#Idk if this requires tw but just in case

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

idk sometimes there is a certain absolute horror to be had when you snap out of it for a brief moment to remember how abnormal it all is

[thatoneluckybee]

[rosesradio]

.

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I’m working on an original character project that I want to include a lot of casual representation in (“casual” meaning that the characters don’t need a justification for being disabled/fat/POC/etc, they just are because people can and do exist that way in reality!)

I was wondering if you had any suggestions for finding resources for drawing facial differences(and maybe other visible disabilities), especially in a cartoony style. I’ve looked through the Facial Equality Week tag but would like to see more examples, and since my art is so… goofy, for lack of a better word, I would love any help I can get in integrating differences without being offensive or upsetting.

Sorry if this is a bother, and thank you for all that you do!

Hi!

I'm not aware of any guides for drawing facial differences specifically (or at least, good ones. There's 1 billion tutorials telling you that scars are just a Singular Line, always, but that's not... correct), but perhaps someone in the notes could help out?

For my own advice, you could check out this old post I made. Because you mentioned your art being cartoony, I would specifically urge you to not overexaggerate facial differences the way they often are. Prime example would be how a lot of cartoons portray strabismus;

It's just a funny gag to them rather than, IDK, how some of us look like. Not to mention that one of these is also a mockery of intellectually/developmentally disabled people with "Derp" in the name, but that's beside the point here.

It's the whole "the character is crazy/stupid/wild/whatever and that's why they have it" that's the problem with how it's often shown. You can also see it in how characters who don't even normally have it will be shown with it for a scene where they're saying something nonsensical, etc.

Another example that's nowhere near as rampant is the like... split-face thing with various facial differences being used. Mostly vitiligo but sometimes also facial palsy. I'm talking about this weirdly perfectly halved face that looks extremely different on each side, often used to signal that a character is two-faced or that the author doesn't know how vitiligo looks like.

[note: vitiligo also shows up on lighter skin. I wanted to make sure it's visible here for tutorial clarity purposes.]

This one is just weird because it straight up doesn't look like that? I have no idea where it came from, but it should go back there. Facial palsy doesn't make someone look like the antique comedy/tragedy theater mask.

Unless I'm forgetting some other annoying cartoon trope, these would be the big ones that you should stay away from.

Outside of that, it's really on a case by case basis on how a specific FD should be drawn because they're so different! A birthmark can just be a differently colored patch of skin, but a craniofacial difference would require some more changes to be included. Alopecia is well, lack of hair, and can be done very easily but ectrodactyly can be more complicated to show properly because of the limitations of a cartoony artstyle when it comes to hands. And while I do think it would be great to see more of those facial differences that tend to not be included in art at all, there's nothing wrong with deciding to go for the things you can represent more faithfully, especially if you're just starting.

I will say that if you're making an honest attempt at being respectful and trying to get it right, most of us will still be excited to see your work. Even if it's not perfect or has some inaccuracies. I will take a "'yeah more or less' correct with a happy, human character" over a "Very Technically correct but tagged as #tw burns and with blood splattered on them" any day.

Lastly, I wanted to share some art featuring characters with facial differences (and other visible disabilities) that are done in a cartoony, or at least somewhat simplistic artstyles (I'm using both terms very widely here, but like. Not Realism) - maybe it will give you some ideas!

Man with Treacher Collins syndrome (also one of the first pieces online where I saw a character with an FD portrayed in such a lovely way! A fav of mine) Girl with Pfeiffer syndrome Too many characters to count! Woman with burns Woman with a limb difference Multiple characters again Animation featuring people with Down syndrome [youtube] Multiple characters, including a girl with neurofibromatosis, a burn survivor, a girl with a cleft lip and another with TCS! [twitter]

If you have a more specific art question ("how do I draw a person with XYZ facial difference?") you can send me an ask on @saszor! I prefer to stick to the writing theme on this blog but would still like to help if you need it:-)

Hope this helps!

mod Sasza

Edit: apologies for the lack of alt text on one of the images, it has been fixed!

[thir10th]

hi love! i'd like to req emily smut, maybe a little more on the rough side if you'd be comfortable with that, where she gets jealous over reader and shows that through sex

if you want something less vague, it could be when reader brings emily lunch to her office and morgan keeps flirting with her, leading to some action in emily's office

I'll be doing these two together cause why not. I hope you don't mind! thanks for requesting, and I hope you liked it!!

jealousy - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

summary: see the asks, it's a mix of both, it kind of took a turn, but i hope you still enjoy it! tw: jealousy, a very poor try at dom Emily, fingering, breast play?, idk tws are so hard once you've finished writing🥲, i think that's it lmk if i'm missing smth a/n: no idea if there's a way for me to link both asks here, someone lmk if there is

It's only 8.00 am when you enter the police station, two bodies in the past 12 hours required the early hours, everyone had to be focused, your mind had to be only in one place. However, this wasn't the case for all the people on that room.

The local police officer at the head of the case had some other things in his mind.

He starts by boldly checking you out, looks at you up and down, stopping and staring at the short tank top you were wearing, which makes you uncomfortable enough to cover yourself with your arms as much as you can.

The look your girlfriend sends to him doesn't go unnoticed to you, you start to believe she will set him on fire just with her stare, she places herself covering your body to shake his hand, which she gripes a bit too harder than the usual.

If you didn't know her any better, you would say she is jealous.

But there was just no way, right? Emily Prentiss doesn't get jealous, she's too confident for that, she has you so well wrapped around her finger, she doesn't need to be jealous. Right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"so you think this... unsub like you call him, could be on a killing spree because of his mother?" the agent asks you, staring at the last picture you just sticked to the board with a puzzled look.

"we're positive, we've seen this modus before, it's a clear pattern" you explain

"ugh, so talking about mommy issues" you can't help the little snicker that scapes your lips.

He looks triumphant, fully believes he's got you under his spell. He couldn't be more wrong.

The familiar hand that slides behind you on your lower back makes you jump, Emily comes around you, standing closer than she usually does.

"hey, what were you talking about?" she asks, tilting her head.

"oh, nothing just the case" you say, unbothered.

"just the case huh?" you turn your head to see how she's staring at him, as he walks away from you both.

"Em? what is it?" you ask suspicoisly.

"nothing, i just don't understand, what could be so funny if you were just talking about the case..." she says sarcastically

"oh my god" you try to keep your voice down, but the excitement is still noticeable "oh my god, Emily, you're jealous!"

"what? What do you mean I'm jealous?" her voice a couple octaves higher, making it so obvious to you she's lying.

"that's not even a real answer!" you say.

"ugh..." she lets out one of those little sounds she always makes when she knows she's been caught, you think it's adorable.

"ok, so maybe... maybe I just... don't like the way he looks at my girlfriend, so sue me!" she tries defending herself, but you couldn't take it seriously for your life, you find it adorable, the slight pink tinting her cheeks, her reassuring hand still resting on your lower back.

"Emily, c'mon, you know i love you" you kiss her cheek, she kisses you back but still doesn't look so convinced.

The thing is, you could not be any less attracted to that man, there was no way in the world you would find his flirting any appealing, but the idea of teasing Emily sounds too exciting.

A little fun never hurt anyone, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"...hellooo, earth to Prentiss?"

Morgan waves a hand in front of Emily’s face and she’s brought back to reality.

"what?" she asks.

"i said, could you please put your frown away, you're scaring Reid" Spencer doesn't even hear the comment, too focused on the case file to even pay attention to the conversation that was taking place right beside him.

"my frown is just where it has to be, thank you" she says raising an eyebrow at that.

Derek gives a scoff, and Rossi chuckles at the whole stupidity of the situation. “If y/n can’t feel your stare burning a hole in her back, when she turns and sees you, she’s sure gonna think you're planning a murder.”

"i might just be" she mutters

"I think I know what's going on" Rossi intervenes "she isn't looking at y/n" he explains pointing at you "I think someone might be jealous"

You are only a few feet away, discussing your last findings with the detective, trying to laugh at every little thing he says, making sure Emily is watching.

"I'm not jealous" she defends "she is so clearly not interested, but what if she needs me to step in?" her attempt to make up a good excuse isn't good enough for any of them to buy it

"if that helps you, but all i can hear is jealousy" a big, cocky smile spread on Morgan's face, it's only making her angrier

"c'mon, or we will too have to face the consequences of the territorial monster of jealousy when it explodes" Rossi says, dragging Morgan away

"yeah, mark your territory" Morgan laughs, while Emily gives him the finger "go get her lover!"

It's your loud chuckle that draws the line for her. When you finally get away from the persistent officer, you turn to see Emily isn't there anymore, taking your phone you see 2 new message from her.

From Em💕: you better knock your shit off baby.

From Em💕: That's it. You're so in for it later.

That one makes your heart throb, it shortly makes you wonder if you had taken it too far. This was not gonna end well for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hotch decides to call it for the day, sending you off to start fresh in the morning, when a male voice you had heard enough already, calls your name

"Agent, I was wondering if you would be in for a drink with me?" he asks, eyeing you up and down yet again.

You are so sure you would find it just as disgusting if you weren't so gay, and so in love with your girlfriend.

"oh, sorry but no, actually, I-" a much more familiar female voice interrupts you "she's with me" Emily says.

He can't believe his eyes, Emily wraps her arm around your waist pulling you close to her body "hi babe" she says, kissing your lips, you return the kiss, a bit amused at her jealousy, but loving the possessiveness she was showing.

"Sorry, you were saying?" she asks, the man still open-mouthed, he can't bring himself to even speak.

"nothing... ugh, good night, agents" he dismisses you, and walks away defeated.

Emily and you head out of the bullpen, her arm still securely wrapped around your waist, she slides her hand on your back pocket, grabbing a handful of your ass possessively, making you chuckle.

"wanna talk about it?" you ask her innocently

"oh we are gonna be doing a bit more than talking you and me"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Emily doesn't even leave time for the door to close, and you have a split second to register your thoughts before she closes the door and walks over in one long stride and slams you into the wall.

Her mouth attacks yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, her tongue invading in a fight for dominance, that you just let her win, she is determined to have her way with you, and you aren't going to stop her.

She wasted no time in getting her hands on you, roughly rubbing her hands over your exposed skin. You, however, delicately placed your arms around her neck and when you both pulled apart to breathe.

"what's wrong, Em?" you ask her, breathlessly

"you know what? For starters, I didn't like the way he was looking at you" she starts, her breath warm against your skin, she lowers her head getting your neck, kissing it so sweetly you feel you could melt

she is quick to find your pulse point, mouth-opened kisses all over your skin, she nips all over your spot, which makes you moan

"but then imagine my surprise when i saw you, flirting back" her hand finds her way underneath your shirt, reaching for your breast, she finds no more resistance as you aren't wearing a bra, your other nipple peaking through your shirt in excitement.

She uses her free hand to grip your ass, you jump at the feeling whimpering on her mouth, her closeness only making you more excited.

"but you don't like him, do you, baby?" she asks, teasing you, she leaves a soft kiss on your lips

"he wouldn't stand a chance, we both know men aren't really your type" Emily says lowly, nipping at the tender spot behind your ear. 

She slips her leg between yours, a soft moan escapes your lips.

"so you just wanted to make me jealous" you're too deep in her dominance to even register anything, letting out soft whimpers every time her thumb brushes against the nub and grips the soft skin of your breast

"god... Emily" you let out, as Emily pulls your thighs apart with her hand.

"you know, baby, if you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked" she attacks your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave purple marks you couldn't care any less about now.

Emily presses her fingertips against the crotch of your jeans "your clothes. Take them off or I'll rip them off" she commands, taking a step back from you, leaving too little space to maneuver.

You knew better than to tease her when she was like this. A shiver of excitement runs through your back, and you comply.

You take your jeans off then, your shirt, quickly throwing them somewhere far on the room.

You move to kiss her again, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in for a kiss, but she doesn't let you, instead she grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up.

You wrap your legs around her waist, she carries you to bed, laying you down just harshly enough to make you even more excited for whats to come.

"you are gonna do exactly what i ask you to tonigh, you know why, baby?" you hold your breath, you're not sure if she actually wants you to answer, but you try nonetheless "because I'm yours"

Your answer seems to satisfy her, as she begins kissing her way down your body, taking special care to nip at your collarbone and stomach to leave more marks than the one's on your neck.

The soft cloth of her shirt rubs against your skin and as if just now realising she was still dressed, you grab the hem of her shirt and help her take it off, throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of the room, like you had done with your own clothes.

And not a moment later, she is back to kissing your body, stopping suddenly when she reached the hemline of your underwear.

Her hand navigates down them, she dips low enough to collect your arousal on her fingertips before rubbing your clit forcefully. Your body reacts immediately, curling forward. "Em!" you moan

"what's wrong baby? Cat got your tongue? use your words, if you want me to stop the teasing, just say it"

"fuck...Em, please, I'm yours, please Emily, yours" you confirm, closing your eyes and letting your hips rock against her hand.

“Who are you this wet for?” Emily demands, nipping at your earlobe.

"just you" you whimper, desperation starting to build in your lower stomach

"that's right baby" the cocky smile on her lips makes your eyes roll. You obviously loved slow, romantic love making with your grilfriend, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't love this side of her just as much.

She continued to move her fingers inside of you and you met each thrust but you almost fell apart when she pressed her thumb against your clit and rubbed hard.

She uses her free hand to play with your breast, you let out a gasp when her tongue moves over it spurred you on and she begins to gently suck on it while her hand still caressed your other breast. 

You melt into the mattress at her words. "let go, c'mon baby, I got you" you cum on the spot, as she fucks you through your orgasm, she let's you ride your high.

Emily lays down beside you as you come down from the climax, she kisses your lips softly, lovingly this time, less urgent.

"you know i didn't mean any of it right? I was just playing with you, i love you. He didn't stand a chance" you try to clarify

"yes baby, i know, i love you too, i wasn't so harsh with you right?" she asks concerned. Sometimes you can't believe how Emily's mood changes so fast, from all dominating, incredibly sexy, to concerned, soft girlfriend.

"Em, it was perfect" you say, grabbing her face and pecking her lips "you are perfect" you kiss her again.

"well, good, because we're just getting started, i'm not sure you've learned your lesson yet" she grins.

"Like i said, I'm all yours, agent Prentiss" she sits to straddle you, and you grab her face to pull her in for another kiss.

Emily caresses your neck with her thumb, looking at the purple marks she had previously left "this will be hard to cover tomorrow"

"who says I'm covering them?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sitting on your usual spot on the plane, you lay behind Emily's amr, resting your head on her shoulder as she reads.

You aren't oblivious of the look on Morgan's face, right in front of you.

The shirt you chose had your neck and cleavage all on display, small and big purple marks cover your skin.

He stares bluntly at you, a cheeky smile covering his face "So y/n, looks like you and Prentiss had yourselves a good night. Care to share?"

Emily gives him the finger.

"in your dreams" you say.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

wow! a lot longer than i expected it to be! finishing this one gave me a headache so please like and reblog if you liked it, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! <333 reqs still open as always!

[carmenized-onions]

Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix

synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.

tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.

portion; 3.1k+

possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)

I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.

The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life—                    Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.

You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?

Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.

“…Syd?”

She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”

There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.

“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”

“Syd.”

“Is your dad still a handy-man?”

Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.

You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.

“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”

You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”

You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.

CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.

There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.

Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.

“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”

 You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.

“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”

“Oh nice!”

“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”

“In the way I can fix?”

“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”

“What’s the damage?”

“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”

You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”

“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”

“What was broke about it in the first place?”

“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

“Do you have the outside handle, still?”

“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”

“Clean?”

“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"

“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.

“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”

“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.

“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.

“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”

“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”

Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.

“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”

“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”

And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.

Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.

You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.

Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.

“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.

“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”

You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”

“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.

You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”

“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”

You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”

The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.

Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.

Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.

“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”

You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”

“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”

You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.

“Not gonna hit you, promise.”

“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”

You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”

“…Tony?”

“...Who the fuck is Tony?”

The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”

And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”

“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”

“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”

“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.

“Well, wait—”

You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.

“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”

“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”

And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.

“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.

You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”

“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.

The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.

It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “That’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”

Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.

He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.

“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.

Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.

You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.

He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.

But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.

And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.

And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.

Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.

Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”

“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.

You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”

Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.

Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.

It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.

“You’re not Tony.”

“Terry.”

“You’re Terry?”

“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”

“Terry’s the fridge guy.”

“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”

“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”

“Syd.”

“Should’ve called you earlier.”

“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.

“You know Mikey too?”

Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.

“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”

“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”

“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.

You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.

“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”

“Still not Tony.”

“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—

“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.

But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.

And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.

Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.

Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.

Mikey’s words. Of course.

Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.   

“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.

Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”

Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”

“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”

She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”

Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?

I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!

And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.

Next Part

[chronicbeans]

Puppeteer Wally Darling x (G/N) Puppet Reader

idk if this will be a series or just a one off so LET'S GOOOOOO (if you want a part two, let me know in the comments of this post.

TW: Obsessive and Possessive Behavior, Kidnapping? (Can you kidnap a puppet? IDK but we're putting that warning just in case), Controlling Behavior

Wally Darling grins widely as he puppeteers the star of the show, (Y/N) (L/N), in a scene within their home. As sad as he is that he cannot voice them, as well, just bringing their personality to life through their motions is enough for him. Voicing his beloved (Y/N) is all up to Sam, their voice actor/actress. Sam, who also happens to be out sick, today. Just like yesterday. And the day before that...

"Aaannddd... CUT! Great job, Wally. You did great! If only Sam were here. Have you heard any word from them?" The director sits back in their chair, staring at the puppeteer on set. Everybody has been asking him about Sam, today. Why are they asking him? Is it because they don't get along?

"No. Sorry. I haven't heard a word. They don't tell me anything." "Alright. Well, you can go take a break, Wally. You've been filming for about... Woah! I must've lost track! You've been filming for NINE hours straight! Isn't your arm tired from being upright for so long?" Wally shakes his head, grinning as wide as a Cheshire. "I can't feel my arm at this point... but I can keep going! I'm always happy to keep going! (Y/N) means so much to me-!"

"Take a break, Wally... And put that puppet back in the storage, will you?" The director looks over to one of the camera people, telling them to turn off the camera, before muttering to themself "He's an amazing puppeteer, but Jesus... He treats that thing like it's alive..."

He quickly runs to his little office, taking (Y/N) with him. Placing the puppet on his desk, he gives his arms a rest as he lies back in his seat. Letting out a long sigh, he looks over to the limp puppet on his desk. Sitting it up and leaning it against a pile of books and folders, he smiles. Surely, the director won't mind if he keeps (Y/N) out of that dingy old box for a little while... As long as they get back in there by the time he leaves, it should be fine.

"I wonder why everybody keeps asking me about Sam, (Y/N)? Do they think I did something to them? Sure, we don't get along, and they clearly don't have as much passion for you as I do! I would never hurt them, though! Do you think I would hurt them?" He looks down to the puppet, smiling. Of course, it doesn't answer. It still feels nice to act like (Y/N) answers and understands. "Thank you for the kind words. It really helps! I love working with you, but the others can be so stressful, sometimes!"

Wally looks away for a moment, checking a few papers on his desk. His schedule seems rather empty for the next week. He had already gotten most of the filming for the episode done today! Only two more scenes require (Y/N). He wishes that there were a few more, to be honest. He prefers working to having nothing to do all day. Maybe he-

"Where... WHERE AM I?!"

Wally's eyes widen, hearing the familiar voice. He looks over to (Y/N), seeing that they have now toppled over onto their side. Their arms flail slightly, as they squeak out "Where am I?! Who? What?! This isn't the neighborhood!"

As much as he wants to squeal with excitement, they are being rather loud. That, alongside the fact that they are voiced, and still sound like, Sam... and people are a bit suspicious of Wally for some reason... He quickly grabs them, placing a hand over their mouth as he quickly says "Be quiet! Someone might hear! I'll explain as much as I can! Just be... Quiet. Here, let me help you back upright."

He picks the puppet up, feeling them squirm a bit in his hands, then sits them back where they were. They raise their arms, which shake as they do so. As they look up to him, he feels his heart swell with joy.

He doesn't know how this has happened... And, frankly... He doesn't care. (Y/N) is talking! (Y/N) is moving! (Y/N) is... (Y/N) is alive! Shaken, yes, but still alive! It's his greatest wish come true! All the work he's put in to bring this character that he loves oh so much to life... Did he have something to do with this? Did his wish for (Y/N) to be able to talk back, move, and live a life in his world make it actually happen?

It doesn't matter. All that matters is that his little puppet is here, in front of him, and able to truly interact with him.

"What's going on...?" Their legs shift slightly, but not much. "Why do my legs feel weird? I can barely move my legs?!" Wally pats their head, saying "Shh... It'll be alright. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what is going on, either. I can tell you where you are, though. First thing's first, though... I'm Wally Darling! I already know who you are, (Y/N). Before you ask, I'll let you know how I know your name."

He goes through everything. The studio, the show, how they are a puppet. To his shock, they already knew they were a puppet, just not exactly what it meant... They didn't know somebody was controlling them in their world. The poor little thing seems so confused! It looks like their head is spinning!

He picks up (Y/N), grinning from ear to ear as he says "Don't worry, (Y/N)! I'll keep you safe! This world is large and dangerous for a puppet like you! I, as your kind puppeteer, will make sure you are safe from harm!" To his shock, (Y/N) only flails, saying "I want to go back to my world! My neighborhood!"

Wally's eyes widen. They want to go back? To leave him? He knows that it is the right thing to do, but he simply cannot have it. As much as he wants to make his lovely little puppet happy... they can just learn to be happy with him! There's no reason why they can't, right?

A simple shake of his head was all it took for them to visibly lose hope. "I'm afraid I can't do that. I care about you too much to let you go back! Think about it... I explained how your world is a show, right? It is like... think of it like a little lie. Would you rather go back to your world, cursed with the knowledge that everything you say and do, see and hear, and all your friends, are just a lie? That it isn't real? Or would you rather stay here, where everything is real?"

(Y/N) shakes their head, again. "I could go back and tell them the truth! I could let them know what is going on! I could-" "Not if I don't let you. I control what you do in that world. If I don't let you tell them, then you can't." "I still want to go home. I want to see my friends, again. I want to go back to Home and take a rest." "You can take a rest at my house!" "I WANT TO GO HOME!" "Be quiet! The others might notice! I might be treating this like it is normal, but if others saw you moving about, they would scream! Stay still-!"

Wally quickly places his hand over their mouth, again, as the director walks in. "What is going on in here?!" Wally chuckles, nervous, as he says "I'm just practicing my (Y/N) impression! You know, since Sam has been out for a while. We don't want to get behind on episodes just because they are gone! Who knows when they will be back?"

The director's eyes trail to the limp puppet in the man's hands. "I thought I told you to put that thing away! Why do you still have it out?" Wally flinches, quickly thinking of an excuse. "Well, I needed to practice not only the voice, but also puppeteering while talking. Since I usually only have to puppeteer, I thought it would help to practice doing both?" The director sighs, nodding.

Then, the best words he has ever heard come out of their mouth happen.

"Just take that puppet home with you, if you want. You clearly have something wrong in the head to be so... ungodly attached to it. You'd probably would keep it in better condition than when we leave them in the storage boxes, anyway."

With that, the director slammed the door to Wally's office shut. The puppet in Wally's arms began to move once more, looking up to Wally with fear. They immediately begin to squirm, trying to get out of his grasp, only for him to hold them still with ease. "Come on, (Y/N)! Let me show you just how much you'll love it here! I'll show you how happy your show makes the children of this world, as well as how much fun this world can be! Anything for you to stay, (Y/N)!"

He grabs a small, cardboard box, then places the struggling puppet inside. Quickly stapling it shut, he then pokes a few little holes into the top. Yes, technically, a puppet cannot breathe, but he still feels bad keeping them in a dark box during transport. Picking up the box, he takes it to his car, saying "Don't worry. The ride will be short. I love relatively close to the studio! Just stay calm, alright?"

"LET ME OUT! WALLY! WALLY! LET ME GO!!!" The box shuffles in the car seat, the puppet inside clearly being in distress as he drives down the road. "WALLY!" (Y/N) peeks out of one of the holes in the box. "I don't know what you are doing, but you are clearly not being a nice neighbor! LET ME GO!" "It's too late. Even if I wanted to, we are already at my house! Come on, let me show you around!" "You could just drive me back-" "LET ME SHOW YOU AROUND!"

He quickly swoops the box into his arms, carrying it into his house as the puppet inside throws itself against the cardboard walls, attempting to escape. He rushes inside, closing the door behind him, before placing the box on his couch. Popping open the lid, (Y/N) pokes their head out, frantically looking around the room.

Their face would've grown pale, if it could've, as they survey the room. Their expression twists, as much as their felt face could allow, into a look of anxiety and fear. Looking around, Wally is slightly confused. What could be wrong with his home? There isn't anything that is obscene or dangerous, as far as he is aware. Then, it hits him.

This place is Wally sized, not (Y/N) sized. The small puppet, who is only around 3 feet tall, give or take, will have a bit of trouble navigating his home. Especially with the fact that they don't seem used to their puppet body. Normally, he would feel bad or sorry, then help accommodate his beloved little puppet. Considering the fact that they clearly want to escape him, however...

This is perfect.

Even more so, because felt hands won't have as much traction and grip on things like doorknobs, windowsills, and the likes. It's going to be harder for them to try to get out without his permission. As much as he hates knowing that he is making (Y/N) unhappy, it truly is for the best!

"Aww... (Y/N), this will only be for a week! Then, I have to go back to work! Maybe... Maybe, when I puppeteer you at work, on set, you'll go back to your world? Just wait. If my theory is true, you'll be back in no time!" The puppet nods, folding their arms. They look away from Wally, clearly upset and full of dismay.

Wally picks up (Y/N), holding them in his arms gently, almost like he is cradling the most precious thing in the world. To him, he is. Nothing could compare to (Y/N)! The effect they have had on the children who watch the show brings him such joy. The way they talk about kindness, acceptance, generosity, and creativity is all that he has wanted to see in life. He has always wanted that kindness, that acceptance, and affection for himself! Now, he can. Now, he can have (Y/N).

His co-workers may call him crazy, saying something is wrong with him... having crushes on fictional characters is childish in their eyes- something an adult shouldn't do. They've been on his back for him talking to the puppet like it could talk back, how he never seems to let it go, and how his little obsession is made stranger, considering that he puppeteers the character. They've always told him that (Y/N) isn't real and to let go. Jokes on them, because now Wally's precious, sweet (Y/N) is real! They're real and they're his.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Hi!!! I’m the same guy as the one that asked about the age range and autism :] just having like another question or so idk I forgot tbh.

Again, it’s so okay if you don’t wanna answer any of these!! I completely get it, all is well 🫶🫶

Would Dominic have any reaction to a reader that stims a lot?? Either verbally or physically; maybe his adoration will miau like a cat as a vocal stim frequently or flap their hands or clap as a physical stim as well?? Would he do anything now that he has that knowledge??

If his obsession suffered from OCD, how would he exploit that disorder?? (under the impression that he would exploit it.) Perhaps their ocd revolves around severe obsessions of having something seriously wrong with them, paranoia, or extreme fear of dirt or contamination??

Can he speak another language?? If his adoration was bilingual would he put genuine effort into learning their mother language??

Would he find it disrespectful if his obsession was eye contact adverse?? Actually what things does he find disrespectful like in general?? Does he do anything to correct that behavior??

Would he be okay with them being like incredibly and insanely cuddly and touchy?? I am autistic myself and when I go nonverbal but can still stand touch it’s how I communicate if that makes sense at all??

OKOK I swear that’s it for at least a while 😭😭 he really has me thinking about things jesus christ man. If there’s any spelling mistakes or something you don’t understand, I’m sorry :[[ German is my first language.

Have a great day or night!! I wasn’t expecting to write this much ngl🫶🫶

In case I ever have anything else I’ll put a raccoon at the end!! :]]

-🦝

TW: Discussions of Mental Health, Mentions of OCD, Dominic Being Dominic

Welcome back, my dear 🦝 Anon <3 ! Your English is perfect, thank you for all your wonderful questions ^^ ! To answer your inquiries:

♡ If Reader stims a lot, Dominic will, of course, try to find a way to make your stimming all about him; especially if you have a lot of physical/verbal stims. He'll try to be in close proximity to you so that, when you do stim, you're more likely to either catch/grab him (unintentionally, of course). If you're apologetic - even though it isn't your fault - Dominic will absolutely find a way to guilt you into feeling bad about it, even when his veneer tells you that it's fine, it happens.

♡ Guilt breeds indebtedness - that's what Dominic has discovered. So, fresh off the wave of panic you're feeling, he'll ask you to do something for him that will require you to stay longer, during which time he'll see if you physically stim again or not. If so, he refreshes the process. Just like printing money.

♡ If you verbally stim and, say, make some kind of animal noise, he'll absolutely try and romanticise it. If you meow, he'll call you "Kitty," giving you a warm smile and a good-natured laugh. If/when you become more comfortable around him, he'll start calling you "Mon Minou," - My Kitty. He's one Discord server away from calling you Kitten.

♡ If you suffer with OCD, he'll start manipulating the physical environment to trigger you. Never in his own house, though. You need someplace as your safe space, right?

♡ He'll never verbally trigger you himself, either; nor will he allow any triggers to exist in his house as to try and reduce the likelihood of you having a negative association with his abode if you experience an OCD urge whilst you're there, regardless of how severe it is.

♡ In fact, he'll do things to make it seem like he's the only one that can combat it; he'll check windows to make sure they're locked, he'll sweep up crumbs off the floor to clear the path for you, he'll even call up one of his many doctor 'friends' (acquaintances. People in high places he's fashioned into his elite social circle) to come and informally examine you, to tell you that you're fine.

♡ If it's paranoia you're afflicted with, he'll seize the opportunity to turn himself into the only person you can come to, the only person you don't feel silly or afraid to spill your deepest worries to.

♡ Anything that will make you gaze up at him with nothing less than gratitude.

♡ Dominic can speak two languages fluently - English and French. He can speak other European and Asian languages, too, but to a minimal degree and only enough to discuss business matters. However, if you speak another language aside from the two he already has at his disposal, he'll absolutely make sure to learn it fluently, if only to become one of the few/only people in the neighbourhood with whom you can feel truly connected with.

♡ For peak manipulation, he'll learn everything about your mother tongue after your first meeting and start speaking to you in it - fluently - the next time you meet, pretending to have been able to speak it for many years past.

♡ If you are eye contact adverse, he'll try not to take it personally. But, knowing Dominic, that is a feat in and of itself. He values being able to exert power over others, and one of his main methods of doing so is unwavering eye contact. So, really, you're managing to inadvertently protect yourself from Dominic's Medusa stare.

♡ Behaviours Dominic views as 'disrespectful' would be signs dismissiveness towards him. Dominic is used to being the centre of attention in every environment he's in, so to have you, the object of his every desire, not paying attention to him is...a blow to his ego, to say the least. A metal rod to the backbone of his entire identity.

♡ Dominic will make quick work of ‘correcting’ your behaviour: standing so that it is only him in your direct line of sight; coming in close proximity so you can’t be ignorant to his presence; and, if he's bold enough, taking your chin between his fingers and making you look at up him.

♡ If you're very touchy-feely, Dominic goes absolutely feral; he can't believe he gets to have you touch him without: a.) having to initiate it, and b.) having to hide it. After all, it's a by-product of your mental health - it's beyond your control as much as it is his!

♡ He'll take full advantage of this, too, offering his arm for you to hang onto, his hand to hold, his chest to hide your face in. And all the while, all he's thinking of is how nice it feels not only to have you so close to him, but also how he can use this as an excuse to keep you close in the future.

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

[mysticalsoot]

goodnight, my sweet.

A/N; this is gonna be the shittiest, quickest blurb of my life but I just got out of a long shift at work and I wanted to cry within an hour of being there (also I nearly fainted but tis fine!) I could've been patient and posted this tmw but nah! when inspiration strikes- yeah idk the rest

summary; reader comes home from a long day at work just to get some well deserved kisses and cuddles from wilbur!

tw// mentions of possibly fainting, lots of kissing, all of its wholesome kissing, lowercase intentional, not proofread, reader is autistic coded but when are they not

words; 1.7k

pairings; cc!wilbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none!

masterlist

—★—

you weren't the best at asking for help or speaking up, you couldn't project your voice like you were always asked to and you went nonverbal more than you'd like to admit. all are traits others would deem negative, and honestly? they probably are. but in this moment you could care less, all you want to do is get home.

you've worked at this local coffee shop for a few months now and it's been great. its pretty calm and quiet, barely any bustling days. when it does get busy, it's pretty mild. maybe a few rushes here and there, nothing you can't handle.

yet, for some reason, today was the worst day. you didn't get a moments rest, people were lining up near the door. you blamed it on the new menu item but it could've been the holiday and your town being a tourist spot. it was hands down the busiest shift you'd have worked the entire time, and to top it all off-- you were near fainting most of it, as well as going nonverbal. you work the register. neither are very good things to have at any job but especially one that requires you to speak, process and stand.

regardless, you worked your shift and the moment your boss gave you the okay-- you were up and out of there. luckily your little cafe wasn't far from yours or wil's flat, maybe a fifteen minute walk. you pulled out your phone, scrolling through different notifications; Twitter, Tumblr, a few DMS but nothing you cared to answer or notice right away. the last thing from wil was a simple "have a good day at work, babe!" which wasn't a surprise, he also anticipated a long day at work. the boys working even more on the next EP, trying to make as many songs as they're comfortable with to counteract wilbur's perfectionism.

you pocket your phone, finding comfort in the small breeze in the air and the scent of the beach. the walk back home felt a lot quicker than usual, maybe it was your lack of perception or maybe you were just enough in tune with everything to make time to quicker. whatever it was, you didn't care either way.

you were most likely on autopilot and the way you didn't realize where you were until your hand was on the doorknob of your home, you figured that was the case. you slowly creaked the door open, trying to be minimal with what sounds you made as you shut and locked the door behind you. you undid your boots and took off your jacket, taking a moment to lean against the door before finding your composure and turning into your bedroom.

wilbur was there laying on the bed, phone in hand but the moment he laid eyes on you, his phone was on his nightstand and his arms were open wide for you, "hey, love-- how was work?" he asks softly as you slip into the bed, finding your way to lay on top of him. you slink your arms around him, nuzzling your head under your chin.

you groaned in response to his question and he chuckled, letting his hands fall to rest on your back. he drew soft circles with his fingers before moving to slip his hands under your shirt, resting them there. you sighed in content as you cuddled even closer, humming with a feeling of peace at finally being in his arms.

he let you lay like this for a good while, maybe 30 minutes, but he eventually knew he had to pry. otherwise you'd keep it locked up until the guilt of not telling him ate you alive.

"was work bad?" he placed soft kisses to your forehead, letting you lift your head and watched as you moved to straddle his hips, body still aching--but at least you could see his eyes.

"busy, mostly. tiring and- I just wanna sleep so bad." you groan softly as you move to lay back down, curling into the crook of his arm, your own arm draped across his stomach. you nuzzled your face into his side before muttering, "how was the studio?"

you yawn as you nuzzle closer to him, humming again as his hands rub up and down your back, "it was good. got a lot done.. looking at a release about two months down the line, at least we hope." he whispers softly between each kiss he places on your face and he moves to hover over you.

he smiles softly as your eyes slide shut and he begins to places kisses over your face before drawing down onto your jaw, "what are you doing, bee?" your voice is soft, almost like a purr as he kisses under your jaw and then under your chin.

"loving on my partner," he hums against your neck as he places a few kisses there, drawing back up to nip at your earlobe, earning a giggle from you--it always makes you giggle, and he knows that. he trails back down, kissing over your throat.

"why?" you question with a slight 'mm' following, your fingers finding purchase into the mop of frizzy curls on his head, sifting through them and playing with them.

"because.." he drawls out as he rests his hands on your sides, lips brushing over your collarbone, two kisses placed before he moves up to your shoulders, "you need a distraction. and my kisses are always the answer."

he shines a cocky grin to you before moving to pepper soft kisses on your upper arm, moving down onto your wrist and then your palm and fingertips. he's never skimpy with his kisses and now is no exception. he repeats the same pattern but on your other arm just a moment later.

"are they?" you smirk playfully, it isn't that much of a smirk, it's more like a small quirk of the lips but it's enough to get your point across. he moves to lift your shirt slightly, a line of kisses from your sternum down onto your belly. you feel him smirk against your stomach before he peppers kisses all over it, using his fingers to tickle at your sides. you curl over him, giggling and laughing, breathing out light no's and stop's, all through happy breaths.

"wiiiill!" you giggle through heavy breaths as he keeps kissing and tickling, his own smile wide and giggles of his own matching yours and slipping past his lips.

"what?" he quips, smirk evident as he lifts his head, fingers stopping their attack on your sides and lips no longer pressed on your belly.

"why'd you tickle me?" you ask with a playful pout and he crawls up and over you, pressing his forehead against yours as he rests his hands on either side of your head.

"do you feel better?" he asks softly, a gentle kiss to your nose placed the moment he finishes speaking.

"yes?" your tone is curious as you tilt your head to the side, your hands resting on his waist as he keeps himself above you.

"good." he smiles softly as he gently places his weight on you, his hand under your head in your hair, massaging at your scalp as they sift between strands of your hair.

"you didn't tell me why-" your tone is determined as you speak and your fingers play with his hair. he chuckles at your insistence as he shakes his head lightly, letting it fall to your shoulder.

"I did it to distract you, and it worked, did it not?" he asks almost rhetorically as he turns over onto his back, letting you lay on top of him. you yawn and begin to cuddle closer, nuzzling in the way you always do before you intend to sleep, "let's get you changed and then you can sleep, okay, baby?" he speaks softly, placing a kiss to your temple before helping you to sit up.

"do I have to?" you ask softly, getting up off the bed and walking over to the dresser. you're up before he is and he huffs at how quickly you moved, having wanted to do it for you. so he meets you over at the dresser, stopping your hands from reaching into thr drawers. you let out a dramatic whine as he points back at the bed with a soft glare of 'get back in bed'.

you made your way, begrudgingly, back to bed, settling for sitting on the edge as you watched him grab an old sweatshirt of his and some sleep pants you always found comfort in.

"yes, you have to get dressed," his response was a bit delayed but the sentiment still stood as he walked over to the bedside, and knelt before you.

"may I?" he asks softly as his fingers find purchase at the bottom hem of your shirt and you nod. he lifts the shirt up over your head and puts it aside, helping you put on the sweatshirt in place of it. he rests his hands on your sides for a moment afterward, and he places a soft kiss to your chin before helping you with your pants. the same routine of 'may I?' with a nod from you after.

once you're all changed he scoops you up and throws you both into the bed together, pulling the blankets up over you both as you settle in one another's arms.

wilbur pushes a few strands of hair out of your face before dropping his hand to rest on your cheek, smiling softly as he places a kiss to your forehead.

"sleep?"

"sleep." he answers with a kiss to your lips. its soft, sweet and short but it's nice after a very long day for you both.

"goodnight, bee." you mumble as you cuddle closer to him, humming to yourself as your arms wrap around him.

"goodnight, my sweet."

his hands run over your back as he continues to place kisses all over your face, he's slow and careful with each one as they become far and few between with every second. sleep begins to enrapture you both and before you're out, a final few mumbles of promises are whispered.

taglist; @ella-fella-bo-bella @lillylvjy @sleepyburs @lotusanonymouse @lcvejoy

[mm-275]

MILES MORALES HEADCANNONS 2

Request: yes

tw: none i think?

- Ok so I think that he listens to a little of all genres of music. Like he’s cool with everything but there’s a few songs or artists that he doesn’t fw

- He will make you make him a playlist so he can listen to it when he misses you and he’ll make you a playlist BUTT he’ll be nervous to send it to you, so when your like “bitch where’s my playlist?” he’s like “you actually wanted it”

- This boy BEGGED his parents for Spotify premium and they finally got it for him when there was like 3 months free near his birthday (he cried)

- When you find out he’s spiderman (you’d probably get mad he’s dropping dates and stuff so you confront him and he tells you) you make sure he’s always safe

- He drops by your house sometimes when he gets hurt after a fight or something and you patch him up. Now you keep a first aid kid in your room for him

- When he gets involved with the Spider Society, you get involved. He trusts you with EVERYTHING, so he tells you everything, and eventually you meet all of them.

- You get along with almost all of his friends there. After hearing what Miguel did, you don’t trust him around Miles and Miles doesn’t trust Miguel around you, so he tried to keep you as far away from him as possible.

- Gwen takes awhile to get used to you, but she eventually warms up when she realizes Miles is happy with you.

- Peter B introduces you to Mayday and you hold her and play with her and PB is like “if you don’t keep her I will”

- Hobie appreciates that you make Miles happy and therefore he doesn’t mind you at first. I think he’d be hesitant but he warms up to you (you guys become best friends)

- Pav is so sweet i don’t think anyone couldn’t immediately love him. You and him sit together and gush about eachothers s/o’s all the time and give eachother advice.

- Remember when he was texting his dad and had a bunch of typos because he was fighting a villain? He always responds to you, therefore most of his texts are illegible 😭

- He’s super smart (obviously), but will make you/his mom read over his school essays just in case.

- I think that he wouldn’t use a ton of pet names. Maybe a few sometimes, but would mostly use your name and a few nicknames hes made up (he has one that only he’s allowed to call you)

- Absolutely cannot play an instrument for shit. Gwen and Hobie have tried to teach him, and if you play an instrument you have too, but he gives up.

- He would be decent at most sports, but he’s the type of kid to only do gym for the required credits, and doesn’t go out of the way to play. If friends or you ask to play something with him, he would.

- Once you guys are together for a little, he would bring you to all the family functions. Cousins wedding? you’re there. Fourth of July celebration? He’s dragging you around to all of his family members.

- His mom would make him dress up for all of the holidays (my mom too), like at Christmas he’s in an ugly sweater and his mom is taking 10 photos of all of their matching sweaters (this is a self projection)

- Asks if he can adopt every dog and cat in the alleyways.

- He would know how to do a few origami pieces and does them in class when he’s bored and then gives them to you

- Draws on the corners and in the margins of your papers in class

- Watches CoryxKenshin and either youtube or spotify will be playing in the background of his room at all times.

- Before you guys meet eachothers parents, your screen time would be like 15+ hours from how much you guys would’ve facetimed

- Said this in the last part, but I have to bring this back. He LOVES holding your hand. He’s late to class to hold your hand down the hallways.

- He refuses to split the pole. He’s not even superstitious he just thinks it’s weird 😭

- He’s picky asf. Chicken tenders are his best friend (me too)

—————————

sorry this is so short i ran out of ideas.

im thinking of doing these with another character like e42 miles or hobie? idk lmk

[zellkernchen]

I GENUINELY WANT TO KNOW YOUR IDEAS ON GRIEVOUS REMANING FAMILY

I was having a convo with a friend the other day about it and like?? Do they think of him? Does he think of them? It's stated he probably doesn't miss them because of his transformation, but he still cares about Gor so I believe he could think of them.

Idk all rhetorical questions I do want to hear someone's ideas.

OMGGG THANK YOU AND @alenchikova FOR ASKING! I actually do have lots of stuff on Grievous' remaining family, who they are what roles they'll play in my series and all that but I'll just write down everything that requires the least amount of spoilers for everything. (I might however expand more on them if it's specifically requested and because I love to infodump on anything related to my headcanons and ocs/my fanfic series).

I'll post an introduction to them before answering @nettlebrand's questions and expanding a bit on them.

TW: Death mention

Who is part of Grievous' remaining family?

Out of ten wives and thirty children only 3 wives and 4 children survived. There is however a child of Grievous' who has been missing since around 43 BBY. Their fate remains unknown to the family for a loooong time.

His three surviving wive's names are: Ouhlma kel Pokitstrej (1st wife), Noonaklis san Kvetik (6th wife and Bentilais' sister), Gahnzi pot Braviir (10th wife).

Ouhlma became his wife some months after Ronderu's death, ca. end of 45 to start of 44 BBY and they had their first and only child who was born on the day Ronderu died. Ouhlma's child hasn't been seen on Kalee since around 43 BBY. Ouhlma was born on the year of 64 BBY and is the distant relative of Grievous' Izvorsha Tshoat kel Nejilneski. Ever since the disappearance of her child, Ouhlma isolated herself, refused to bear any more children and now carries her child's favourite doll wherever she goes. She named her child after the woman who raised her.

Noonkalis was given to Grievous' as a way to represent comradeship between Grievous and Bentilais' cousins after half a decade of small conflicts. Noonkalis bore him three children (all of them were born in 39 BBY), however one died at the age of 8 years old. Noonkalis was born on the year of 65 BBY, she and Grievous are the same age. She was part of Grievous' Izvorsha until she unfortunately developed chronic back pain and couldn't fight anymore. Noonkalis sometimes trained her surviving son in sword fighting and was her daughter's biggets supporter whenever it came to her marksman skills, despite not knowing much about guns herself.

Gahnzi's marriage with Grievous was the result of his drunkenness and impulsive decisions, some weeks before he was sent off to work for the IGBC. They didn't have any children together until the year of 24 BBY, the same year the Shuttle crash occurred. She's the youngest of the three, being born in the year 59 BBY. She somehow managed to become Ouhlma's best friend and is always there for her whenever she needs it. The same goes for vice versa. Gahnzi used to be a waitress and dancer at the restaurant- bar she worked in before getting married to Grievous. The children, except her biological child, all know how to dance fluently thanks to her.

Here are their height differences:

(Their colours pretty much represent their skintones)

The four surviving children of Grievous are: Skashnilla jai Namesda, Baldruga jai Sanigbasa, Ziszgo jai Nigdu and the young Qymaen jai Dumu ("Dumu" is the equivalent of "child" which is in this case used to represent a title we would label as "Junior". Basically his name is Qymaen Junior).

Starting off with the two oldest siblings Skashnilla and Baldruga. The two of them were, as mentioned earlier, born on the year of 39 BBY and are super protective of their family. Since they were the ones who got to interact the most with Grievous out of their alive siblings, Skashnilla and Baldruga have learned how to deal with weapons from their father. Skashnilla specialises in the Outland Rifle, meanwhile Baldruga in Lig Swords. However, it wasn't just Grievous and his wives who raised them, Bentilais also played a big role. I mean, he's their uncle afterall. Baldruga and Skashnilla absolutely adore their uncle, though they are a bit upset that he's been rarely able to visit them over the last few years. Skashnilla despises the Yam'rii, Jedi and Republic, even directly blaming her late brother's death on them. Baldruga does hate the Yam'rii but can't bring himself to hate all the Jedi and the whole Republic. He doesn't forgive them for their deeds but still feels as if only the Yam'rii are to fully blame of this. Occaisonally, the two siblings lead out small troops to combat Yam'rii forces who, since the shuttle crash, have immigrated back to Kalee.

Ziszgo is the quiet and "weird" child out of the four and there are several reasons for this; Ziszgo suffers from Hypotropia, is (what we would label as) Autistic and super introverted. As a child she always spoke too much and tried to befriend every child near her, but their discomfort and bullying towards her made her introverted and a bit "nocturnal" (as in she only shows herself at night). Unlike her siblings, Ziszgo's mother isn't alive, she was Grievous' 8th wife who died of puerperal fever. Ziszgo had three other siblings, none of which survived past 2 years of age. As a result, Ziszgo was raised by Gahnzi. Her special interests are anything related to technology, bombs and a specific carnivorous plant on Kalee known as "Poljiaccsi". Her room is full of those plants. Ziszgo aids Baldruga and Skashnilla during all of their campaigns by either helping them convieve battle plans or small bombs. She never attends any of their campaigns because she knows that, physically, she's useless for a battle and will only get herself killed. (I forgot to mention but she was born in the year 30 BBY)

Born some short months after the infamous shuttle crash incident and named to honour his father, Qymaen is only a young pup. He loves being around his mothers and siblings. His favourite activity is eating. The boy learns words rather quickly and loves to shout them at random times. He had two other siblings who were unfortunately stillborn, the factor of Gahnzi being stressed was a major factor in this.

Here are their height differences:

Nowww onto the questions!

Does Grievous' family think about him?

Oh absolutely. It's always a worry at least in the back of their minds. Well... except for Qymaen. He's a literal toddler by the time of the clone wars. All he knows is that his father is somewhere, fighting. But he's sure he'll come back. He does sometimes ask questions about Grievous.

Skashnilla and Gahnzi think the most about Grievous (and are the most worried about him). For one, Skashnilla has always been a massive "Daddy's girl" and he's her idol. Second, Gahnzi hopes that Grievous will return so Qymaen can at least get to know his father. Pictures, Video footage and Holograms can only do so much.

Baldruga, Zizsgo and Noonkalis wonder occaisonally where he is, how he's doing. But they've given up hope on contacting him as their calls always goes unanswered. Almost as if their calls can't even reach Grievous, weird.

Ouhlma does think about Grievous, but she's more worried on her child. It was said that they would be something great, just like the Shaman said for Baldruga, Skashnilla, Ziszgo and Qymaen. There's no way they're dead, no matter how much others think against it.

Does Grievous think about his family?

In my series and AU, yes, he does. His transformation and brain alterations didn't make him completely forget about them. He knows they should exist (surely he would be informed if one of them did die, no?) and does care about them as much as his alterations allow him to, but his brain and priorities have been twisted and manipulated. He'll get his revenge on the Jedi, that's his top priority. Though, on his worst days, he can't help but wonder how they're doing. But according to Dooku; his family hasn't contacted him since they last got to see him in that bacta tank (There's no way he would lie about this, right?). Perhaps it's best if he stays where he is and leaves them alone. However, he would never admit any of that to anybody.

That’s pretty much it for now. If anyone has any more questions please lmk!

[watusay]

TW: Mention of shootings

My school has a back entrance, I think most schools do. All the doors are locked from the outside all day except at the beggining of the day when kids are coming into the building. anyone can be let inside from anyone already in the building. At my old school I mentioned to my mother(who works at the school) how students could easily leave or let someone in. She had explained how it won't and can't happen, I don't remember her reasons but they made since. Today at my school I saw kids letting people in through the back entrance. My school has kids wear lanyerds, I think most school do. After 3 school shootings in a week my school has been making it top priority for students to wear them to make sure people who arnt supposed to arnt in the school. The person who was let in wasnt wearing a lanyerd. They were obviously a student, and I've seen them before, but this brings up the topic of security issues and breeches.

A common question I ask myself is "when it isn't students, how are the shooters getting in?" I feel what I saw could answer the question(in some cases) .

Shootings have been on my mind for several days and I have a few Ideas on how we could prevent shootings and intruders.

Prevention 1: Bullet proof glass

If you look at the chart above you can see, shooters arnt just kids. This leads to the question of how. Schools have protections so people can't get in, but if we think back to 2023 with the Nashville school shooting, Aiden Hale (the shooter) had gotten into the school by shooting at the doors which were mostly glass. The bullets shatterd the glass giving him access to the inside of the building.

A way this could have been prevented is bullet proof glass on the doors, even windows. Only about an estimated 2% of school nationwide have the technology to make this change.

The cost isn't very flexible or feasibility though, with an estimated $50,000-$75,000 per elementary school alone to make this change. With there being 130,930 k-12 school in the US, around 70,000 of that including elementary, It would cost around 3,500,000,000-5,250,000,000 for just elementary schools alone. (I think. I'm bad at math.) This isnt cheep at all but neither at funerals.

Prevention 2: requirements to buy a gun

In a personal opinion I feel we as citizens, should have the right to bear arms, but with a background check, a psyche evaluation, with a permit and proper training, and for anyone over the age of 25.

I know some of this feels unnecessary but it's not. 2 of the things I think would be most controversial are a psyche evaluation and anyone over 25.

A psyche evaluation would be a good way to protect a person and others. If someone's not in the right state of mind and struggling mentally they might buy the gun with an intent to kill themselves and something even others who they might blame for why there struggling as revenge.

And the reason I say a person should be over the age of 25 is for a few reasons.

1: you turn 18 while in high school. This is giving high schoolers across to guns

2: your not even old enough for alcohol, why should you be given access to weapons, especially when you can find them at any Walmart in the South Midwest(idk about other regions)

3: study's show your brain isn't fully developed till around the age of 25. Your still likely to do illogical and dangerous things after your 18 and even after 25, but pushing the time back and giving an extra 7 years to mature should help

In my state, anyone can get a gun as long as there 18. I'm sure this is the case I'm lots of states, but the fact you don't need a permanent in insain to me, cause as I said earlier, 18 is still a high schooler.

There are many other ways to prevent this cough like gun laws cough, and I just don't have the time or patience to go through all the logical stuff right now. I will definitely write more on this topic. This was kinda just a rant but if you read all of this props to you:}

[protector-culture-is]

tw: serial killer talk (I don’t know how to appropriately warn this)

It’s not really so much an ask as it is do you have any advice?

we just recently gained a fictive of a serial killer who says he identifies with his source and because of that, I don’t really trust him. He says he won’t hurt anyone in or out of sys, but I can’t seem to get over the fact that he still relates to his source.

our host/primary fronter doesn’t have any issue with him (because when he said he wouldn’t hurt anyone she was able to just accept it), and now there’s a lot of tension between the three of us, which is hard because I’ve always been really close with our host.

I just want to keep us all safe, and I know I’m going about it the wrong way, but idk how to get past the “yeah I’m a serial killer” thing.

Any advice is welcomed

-🐺

hello! we haven't had an experience like that before, but i hope whatever advice we can give will help a little regardless!!

so. first of all. identifying with source or not isn't reserved for ppl with non-problematic (or whatever u call it) ones. it's ok for him to identify with his source. it means (or, it can mean) that they are like "yeah i did that/would do that", not "yeah i will continue to do that"

just like how it is possible for singlets or non-introjects to do something and then, regardless of feeling remorse or not, can decide to not do that, it's equally possible for introjects too. they're people too after all

as a protector (assuming you are one- in any case, in acting as/like a protector), or, like, in general, it's understandable to be vary. he does identify with his past/in-source actions. it's ok and understandable. you don't have to trust someone- it's not required to. sure, it would help with interactions and stuff, but no one can fault you for your feelings.

if you do want to improve your feelings for him and like your relationship, though, i would recommend just letting him prove himself through his actions. how else to strengthen your trust for him than see himself prove himself and his words yourself?

give him the space and allow him to behave the way he wants to. you can go from there. don't force yourself or him, let things happen slowly, and, if needed, feel free to take a step backwards. sending love and hoping it gets better, or, at least, easier 🫶

[yaspii]

tw for disordered eating stuff under the cut but I've been working with a dietician who specializes in individuals with ADHD and it has been truly life changing

I have had the hardest time stomaching food for the past year or so cause of my meds and sensory things from ADHD and it's only got worse from my doctor telling me to lose weight to the degree that I've lost over 30 pounds since April last year. I have tried so many things to make cooking and eating bearable but each time it's even more work. She initially guided me by trying to find foods I could always stomach that were easy to prepare. This worked for some time but eventually even the act of chewing seemed like a herculean task. At one point I just told myself to drink a glass of milk for breakfast because at least that was something.

When I told her this she immediately latched onto it and said we can work with that let's just make sure if you can't eat anything else that day you can drink 2L of this protein enriched milk and some specific vitamins. This pretty much flies in the face of any sort of nutrition advice I have found. That you need balance, that vitamins from food are better than supplements. But it only occurred to me once she put me on this diet that internalizing those things, while true for many people, did not help me, a person who in most cases can't get those nutrients any other way. I drink my milk, I try my best to eat a carb or two as well and some Chia seeds for fibre. And I feel much better than I did when I was barely eating anything, who knew! And yeah hopefully this isn't a forever thing. But I think I'll be set up for much more success on a balanced diet if I actually have energy and my mental faculties about me to go about it in a sensible way. Idk man novel brains require novel solutions and I've never felt safer with a medical professional in my life. She not only saw my unique needs and took them in without an ounce of judgment but she understood immediately that my losing weight was not a good thing despite being overweight.

[daz4i]

tw for. negativity? man idk

every day is the same. it really feels like the only break i get from the boredom of my everyday life is like, doctor's appointments

and while i do meet friends sometimes or play dnd it's hard to enjoy it and even if i do, as soon as they leave/i go back home that feeling is gone anyway which sometimes makes me feel even worse in the days after that

i try to pick up hobbies or projects but they becomes boring super fast too, or they're hard to keep up bc they require getting materials (in which case it's not even the money that's the issue, it's the going outside to get them from a store/the post office), or just bc it's hard for me to actually do, like, anything at all and when i try to force myself it just feels like a chore esp with stuff i can't put down in the middle of working

getting a job isn't an option. studying is even less of an option. there really isn't much to do

I'm just so existentially bored from everything, and constantly being in pain or having issues with basic functioning in a way that affects my mental health for the worse is definitely not helping

again. no word for it in english. despair doesn't cut it i think. just done with everything. i would like for this *gestures at life as a whole* to be over already

[fictionfixations]

spoiler alert: i get SO off topic talking about other stuff. (if you cant tell i like talking. or well expressing my thoughts. anyway its 2 am i can use the excuse of impulse actions from lack of sleep)

i dont even know why im trying when obviously the next update is going to require even more storage and im going to have to drop it (its like 50 gb in actuality but it needs double to like. open it and do SHIt. i dont know this stuff man)

ahghgusihdfiufh (it was worse. ive. deleted a bunch of stuff that i dont play as much.

only games left are Star Rail (which im not dropping. ive poured so much time genuinely invested in story and characters idk what im gonna do when i run out of space to play. maybe cry.), Roblox (i genuinely dont know how much storage its taken, and I don't play it that much but LISTEn it fills a lot of game cravings that i cant play the source cause holy shit my storage.), Osu (the only game i can play without wifi.)

i wanna play the other games on mobile (i used to play star rail on mobile ngl LMFAO then realized 'hey this is fun' and moved to pc after genshin got too big. or maybe i had both at the same time i cant remember now ghreuigh) but uhm. the farthest i get in wuwa on mobile is like the opening loading screen before we see the rovers (it just stops there. even the music stops i think?? ive left it on and did other stuff but nothing happened and its either it wants me to wait super long, or theres just no hope) i did the tutorial for solo leveling arise on mobile but then trying to do literally anything else (like trying to access the menu) kicks me out of the game so then i had to move to pc. genuinely scary game first time around it shut down my pc, and even at lowest graphics kept warning me that 'for smoother gameplay you should have lower graphics' or something so fan on all the time (i have a fan pointed directly at my laptop.) and honestly. im not even that big of a fan of solo leveling why am i here (meilin fisher that is why. anyway i got her. so. shes not even an actual character outside the game??) ive literally only seen the anime and i forgot most of it😭

zzz on my phone is just black screen. it kicks me out. the farthest ive gotten is it asking if i want notifications but it still kicks me out

identity v i cant even download everything i think, i just have it to log in for pc. but uhm. i guess i cant anymore? but also i cant remember if i can still log in through other methods so uh its staying on mobile (to be fair i only got super into it cause of danganronpa collab so)

oh i found whatever it was that was taking 2 gb on desktop LMFAO

no wonder i was so confused on wtf it was

anyway. um. this is very much a shame. cause. i only get so invested in stories in games because im actually playing them. otherwise i cant guarantee im fully focused cause i get distracted so easily. um.

now about mobile storage and everything

uh. i have an iphone 6 pro. no idea if thats bad or not but uh. probably not that great. ? ? idk man idk how it compares to newer phones i want to get a new phone (at least for all the games i cant play on that phone) but then i got an iphone case cause my former one was actually cracked so... its staying (from the zzz website)

so its probably the phone in all honesty thats the issue (people were talking about who they wanted to play when starting the game and i got myself all hyped over ellen so. d'aww.)

and in the case its actually storage.. uh. tough luck. nu carnival is. a gacha game. and i got the character i wanted there, but its more convenient to go through like daily kinda stuff. ..also confession time if yk the difference uh. listen it was a hassle downloading it im not gonna delete it then have to reteach myself how tf to download it again because oh my god

twisted wonderland (aka disney tw LOL) is my OTHER fixation besides star rail. ive gone through all the story (including JP which i dont have cause i cant read it but fan translations for the win) + most event stories (i havent gone through anniversaries, new year sale 2024 JP, and like i think theres a crewel one rn..? or thats just the new card., tapis rouge, playful land, thats it). i love this game. so much.

if i told you ibis paint x used to take i think like so much more space because it still had the stuff since the VERY beginning... anyway idk what to use it for now but if i ever need to edit something...

kinemaster ^

i kinda already talked about identity v

bang dream. i LOVE rhythm games. and pretty designs. and vocaloid. and japanese songs.

in all honesty i lose interest in things so fast and drop them. then i get interested in other things, etc etc. and then i get back to a fixation on, say, rhythm games and wanting to play them a lot. then i can get bored and get interested in like. idk. life simulation(?) games like sims 4. or minecraft specifically the wynncraft server (which is like a fantasy thing..)

which is kind of why i have a bunch of stuff that i dont play often still because one day im gonna want to play it and then go back.

for laptop i just got rid of the games i wasnt interested in playing at the moment so. yeah

anyway if you cant tell i like talking about stuff. and justifying stuff (well its more like it started because i was worried to be judged. ive never been judged over what i like?? only like. once or twice?? that i can recall? but at one point i just started getting in the habit of justifying beforehand for everything after seeing the internet with their pitchforks directed at so many people so. yee.)

off topic. ive checked in on tiktok sometimes. and i just wanna say. how often is it that y'all get comments on old posts that are just variations of 'reminder' or 'remember this' ?? LISTEn the amount of comments that just say "reminder" and THATS IT (bro someone commented 'reminder' TWO times on the SAME post like DAMN. i mean they commented on someone else's comment on that post too with 'reminder' so probably trying to bother someone else but like wHY)

like. i mean. ive posted cringey shit hasnt everyone but it kinda feels like they're trying to shame people? like 'haha remember your past?'

maybe im sensitive. i mean. if this was past me i wouldve probably taken it to heart since yknow its still a work i created, but honestly now its just kinda funny

but idk if anyone else is being bothered by this (i mean. people generally go through old posts and delete ones they dont like right? i kinda dont do that so i mean. maybe yall are better off for that)

just wondering.