#THIS ONE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE QUICK AND EASY

[the-offside-rule]

Franco Colapinto (Williams) - Dulce

Requested: no it just reminds me of the time i tried mate on my exchange year in spain😭

Warnings: nope

Y/n set up her phone on the counter, the familiar red light blinking as she began recording her TikTok. Today's video? Making mate for the first time. Well, at least pretending to. She had watched her boyfriend Franco make it countless times, taking it very seriously, as any true Argentine would. Today, though, she decided to throw in a little twist; a joke that would surely catch him off guard.

The kitchen was warm, and she could feel Franco's presence nearby, lounging in the living room, trying to act uninterested. He always grew curious whenever she pulled out the mate gourd, even though he pretended not to care. Y/n started the video with a playful tone, smiling at the camera. “Alright, guys! Today I’m going to make mate. Argentine style. My boyfriend is the expert, but I’ve picked up a few things.” She threw a glance over her shoulder, catching Franco's eyebrow rising slightly, though he remained focused on his phone.

She handled the yerba with an impressive level of confidence, pouring it into the gourd just as Franco had shown her. So far, so good. She leaned toward the camera, whispering with a mischievous smile, “I’m going to show you how to make it the right way… with a little twist.” Reaching for a small jar of sugar from the counter, Y/n kept it hidden from Franco’s line of sight. The moment the jar clinked, she felt Franco shift on the couch, his attention now fully on her. His head popped up, eyes narrowing slightly. "Che, amor! What are you doing?" Suppressing a grin, she maintained her TikTok persona. “Adding a little sweetness, babe! I’ve read that sugar makes it taste better!”

Franco's eyes widened in shock, and within seconds, he was off the couch, hurrying toward her. "No, no, no, no!" He exclaimed, voice panicked. “Y/n, no podés ponerle azúcar al mate!” He stared at the gourd like she had just broken an ancient law. Y/n could barely keep a straight face as she continued to sprinkle the sugar onto the yerba. "But it makes it sweeter! People put sugar in their tea all the time, why not mate?" Franco, clearly distressed, snatched the jar of sugar from her hand, holding it up as if it were some forbidden artifact. “Because this is not tea! Es mate, entendés? You’re supposed to taste the bitterness, the soul of it!” He gestured wildly, his accent thickening with the urgency of his words. “It’s tradition! No se toca con azúcar!"

That was it; Y/n couldn’t hold it in any longer. Laughter spilled out of her, causing Franco to blink in confusion. "Oh my god, you’re so cute when you get all worked up! Franco, relax. It’s a joke. I’m not actually putting sugar in the mate." For a moment, he just stood there, staring at her, trying to process what she said. He glanced back at the gourd, realizing she hadn’t actually added any sugar, she just pretending for the camera. His tense shoulders finally relaxed, and a sheepish smile crept onto his face.

"Dios mío, Y/n." He muttered, relief lining his voice. "You almost gave me a heart attack. You don’t mess with mate like that. It's sacred." Y/n laughed again, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. “I know, I know. But it was too easy to mess with you.” Franco grumbled something under his breath in Spanish, but his smile was already tugging at his lips. Y/n turned back to her phone, giving the camera a playful wink. “That’s it for today’s video! Franco’s mate-lover approval is very serious, but we got him good!” Franco leaned over her shoulder, eyeing the camera with mock suspicion. “Next time, I’m making sure you’re doing it right.”

Y/n smiled, leaning back against him. "Deal. But maybe next time, you should be the one making it on camera." She giggled, poking his cheek. “Claro.” He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “As long as you promise no more sugar jokes.” She smirked, turning off the recording. “No promises.”

[lovettery]

Haikyuu x F!Reader Headcannons ! ♡

Includes : Tobio Kageyama , Kei Tsukishima & Tadashi Yamaguchi

Tobio Kageyama

I headcannon that before you he's like barely ever even looked at a girl nevermind dated one so he's very inexperienced with everything !

He would be super shy to kiss or anything so everytime you would try and kiss him he'd swerve away and just stare into the distance in shame of himself.

Soon he got the hang of it and now you can't get him to stop kissing you. Before practice? He needs a kiss to prepare. After practice? Needs a kiss to unwind. Lunch? How is he supposed to focus without a kiss? He just doesn't stop!! (but it's okay because he's cute ♡)

When you guys have been together for a while he loves to just lay down in bed with you all snuggled up and whine about his day whether it's him whining about Hinata's shitty receives or how much he missed you whilst you stroke his hair and rub your hand soothingly across his back.

He always tries getting you involved in volleyball so he'll randomly just come up to you with a ball in hand ready to practice with you despite your constant reminders that you barely know the basics nevermind his level of playing. (He doesn't go easy on you though and will tell you if you were shit. But will come back to practice with you again either way ♡)

I imagine he doesn't tend to use a lot of petnames mainly because he's worried he'll call you it infront of his teammates and they'll never let it go but when you're alone together he'll slip out a "baby" and "angel" here and there and it never fails to leave butterflies in your stomach.

Kei Tsukishima

Same as Kageyama I don't think he's very experienced with relationships but he's read a few romance books here and there and has some natural charm that helps him get by.

He's not a fan of PDA at all and thinks it's just embarassing but sometimes he'll connect your hands together and place them in his coat pocket or he'll connect your pinkies together when walking home. And the only kisses you'll get out in public is a quick peck to the forehead if he's scoped out the area to be sure no one he knows is there.

He LOVES to rest his head against you whether it's your back, chest or neck he really doesn't care he'll just plonk his head down and snuggle into you. He loves the feeling of having you against him like that, it calms him down.

Whenever you're gonna meet up to hang out, sleepover or just school he'll bring your favourite drink or snack and just shove it at you and not say a word (you know better than to say anything either ♡)

He really cherishes the moments where you two just lay down in his bed all cuddled up, you resting against his chest and his hand in your hair just enjoying the feeling of eachother and the comfortable silence you can only get when together.

Whenever you steal his glasses and put them on yourself he may act annoyed but deep down he loves it so much (And in those moments he really curses his bad vision because he literally cannot see you but can sense that you look adorable)

I don't see him as the type of guy who's big on petnames. If anything, he thinks they're stupid. Butttt, If you're shorter than him he'll call you petnames like "Shorty" and "Pipsqueak" and if you're a big fan of petnames he'll let a few "love" and "darling" slip by just for you ♡

Tadashi Yamaguchi

My passenger princess oh how much I love him

I imagine he's a very big fan of Romantic movies so he knows how to flirt a little but he doesn't actually have any experience with dating, maybe he had a wedding on his schools playground when he was like 6 if that counts!

He obviously overthinks here and there so whenever he needs to ground himself you'll just feel his hand on your lower back, pinching the tip of your sleeve or in your hair.

He's not against PDA but he's also not for it. Like he's not afraid of a few pecks here and there and a hand around your waist but he won't be the type of guy to wear a shirt with your face on it, that's far too embarassing for him.

He hates it when people underestimate him for things which makes him work himself harder to prove his worth. This causes him to burn himself out quickly but no matter how much you yell at him he won't change cause at the end of the day you always hold him and rub circles into his back whilst playing his favourite show.

He loves to call you petnames, but only in private. He loves to call you his "angel" and "honey" mostly but calls you "baby" from time to time. If you two are joking around he'll say really stupid names like "my boo boo bear" or "my pookie schnookie" with a stupid dopey grin on his face ♡

He's happy to play whatever you want whenever. Especially roblox! He loves to play 2 player tycoons and 2 player obbies with you the most but also plays Dress to Impress and Flicker with you.

Your first kiss together was embarassing to say the least. When kissing he accidently bumped your head really hard with his own, leaving a bump. He would not stop apologising for the next week until the bump on your head finally went down. (To this day he cringes when thinking about it but can't help but smile)

Thank you so so much for reading and I hope you liked them. I still have like a million other headcannons for these boys but I can't fit them all here ♡ This was my first time properly posting so I hope it looks okay !! This was super fun so I'll definitely be posting more characters soon. If you have any requests please let me know and I'll do them. Thank you!

[destinationtrekk]

young wesker who gets drunk and giggly with reader. at first he had been so... cold, so expressionless and absolutely cluelessly bone-dry on how to go about doing anything but a daylight two-step move-his-arms-a-little to the dance music blaring from somewhere, but that's okay, reader can show him.

and he enjoys it... and he's laughing, and his face is flushed, and the scent of vodka is deep on his tongue, and he has severely miscalculated his drink, but that's okay, because reader keeps him safe and happy and distracted the entire time.

at the end, as he begins to sober up, they can't seem to get out of him where he's supposed to go to now (perhaps he is trying to revel in it, this one normalcy, just one event he took on to learn how to behave like everyone else and got taught more about himself and his own interests than he'd ever planned, a snapshot of a life he could have lived if only--) so they take him back to their house and snuggle him up in a blanket burrito on the couch, making him drink water, take an advil, a tylenol.

and as he gets back to himself and they smoke a cig, talking about life as he gets rather quiet and inward again (for he cannot share, he has nothing positive or appropriate to), they do something unexpected and yet wholly welcome, a gift to close out the night: they give him a quick, brief and fleeting shotgun kiss, hand warm on his cheek, before they send him off for a nap, telling him to stay the night so he'll be well and sober the next day to depart. free breakfast if he's still around by then, otherwise, they take no offense.

he has no way of telling them the truth of this fragile matter. he has no way of divulging his life, which would undoubtedly ruin whatever scrapbook memory he is currently creating, and certainly no way to hold onto this awfully pleasant being who he can, apparently, trust in his total ineptitude with heavy inebriance. and he can't keep seeing them again after this. and his view on how ruthless and manipulative human beings are when faced with vulnerability has been shaken to its' core, and he can't say it, and he wants to, but...

instead he asks them to stay a little while he falls asleep (just one final, little test, he muses to himself), and they oblige. he's laid on the couch, head in their lap, his (admittedly not quite so soft after all the gel has hardened) hair being carded through by soft, ever-eager, sleepy fingers. he will never get a moment like this again and he pushes himself to take it in, revel in every second that passes, commit to absolute memory (no matter what he had earlier in the day) every detail of this sightly, sweetly saint's face.

he ends up falling asleep feeling cherished. he will remember this day forever. years to come he will still have tabs on this person, and their life will still be unexpectedly, oddly lucky.

maybe one day he'll find it in him to thank them properly, face-to-face...

nshtn can i say i love you? because i love you and every time you come in my inbox i get so excited

first and foremost i don't think he even would dance at a party. he very much is the kind of guy to find a spot and linger there with a group he's only half listening to. once he meets you though his night gets much much more interesting

he's never really had chances to drink, except maybe whiskey or something expensive with Spencer during their talks about Umbrella and the future, so when you start handing him all kinds of seltzers and mixed drinks and straight shots of vodka, he is very overwhelmed

he can't show it though! so he dutifully takes most of what you hand him, a few drinks are two sweet for him, and he is very quickly wasted tbh. you're so nice though, and you drag him in the middle of everyone dancing and show him a few easy things and soon enough he's bouncing around with everyone else

every time he starts to think about what's going to happen tomorrow you're immediately there to distract him. it's almost like you can read his mind - you know just the right things to say and how to push people out of the way and he just thinks you're perfect under the flashing lights

finally when it's time to go home, he knows for a fact he can't show up at his place looking messed up as he is - what if Spencer or Birkin or some nameless Umbrella employee saw him and ratted him out? so he takes your offer to go to your house gracefully as he can this drunk

he knows now that you're a party expert, you immediately make him drink water and wash his face and take preemptive tylenol for the hangover. your fleeting kiss and warm hands on his sweaty skin are so sweet he can't bear to think about it longer than he has to. he knows he should leave before you wake up tomorrow and forget this wonderful night ever happened (he'll never forget you, not even on his deathbed)

you give him every courtesy and kindness you can offer and he decides to take just one more, one last sweet touch to take with him into the night. you smile sleepily and open your arms for him to fall into - the blanket covering his shoulders is a little too hot and you both smell like beer and liquor and sweat but your lap is so soft, it makes the ache in his back and shoulders from carrying the world lessen a bit, and your fingers in his hair send him into a beautiful and silent sleep

the next morning it physically pains him to untangle from your body on the couch. he stands and watches you for a moment, his heart clenching and pounding in his chest, until he forces himself out the door before you can feel his absence.

when he meets you again, what feels like a thousand years later, his heart pounds just the same. you recognize him, his twisted dark smirk and deep eyes, and when you smile and say his name he's suddenly twenty-something all over again and dizzy and drunk in your arms - he never wants to leave you again

[cindersnows]

i think as viewers we find it easy to sit back and judge each character until their motivations are explained to us in detail like with purple and king and chosen. even with victim its fairly easy to guess a portion of why she is doing this. and that's partially because avam is just made to be like that so all audiences can understand it and why the characters do what they do, and also partially because it's a little difficult to do more subtle storytelling when you can only express character feelings through their body language (and the body language has to be fairly exaggerated so that everyone can understand how the character is feeling).

so then as a result when we see green falling deep into the hole of social media it's easy to scoff and judge and say come on green, do better. we see it as him just getting too cocky again- look at green with his ego and his need to seem cool, he's sucking up to people again so he can get validation. and people understand that, they're even comparing his arc to purple, but they're forgetting to actually see things from his point of view.

like yeah. green was mean to yellow! and that was a kind of assholey thing to do, agreeing with people when they say yellow didn't do much. but like people do stupid shit all the time, especially to get approval. green hearting mean comments wasn't him on his villain arc, he probably barely thought about it. haven't you ever done anything without thinking or made a joke in bad taste. honestly it's a little ironic how quick people were to jump on him when he did something kind of mean, it reminded me of actual cancel culture! fascinating shit. we really are a part of the story.

anyways green started off as the weakest. he tries his best to be good at other things, first building, then music, but for some reason whenever he does well in something his friends get jealous or upset. (he pours himself into that thing and unintentionally ignore s or snaps at his friends--- its a repeating pattern at this point). it's mostly because their competitive spirit, something which is seen in a lighthearted manner but has gotten them killed or hurt on multiple occasions and i feel like they're going to have to address that at some point. whenever green sets boundaries, they're ignored, even if cg think they're just acting in the greater good.

hell, even purple, we've barely seen them interact after s3- who's to say purple wouldn't just scoff at him as well? she's already not very experienced with actual friendships (based on the way they just expected green to brush the betrayal off in parkour, they acted more like it was a small disagreement than a full on issue), so he may just assume this is how friends are.

basically the point of this is to say, no one ever celebrates his success. obviously he's competitive with his friends too, but having been at the bottom of the group from the start, he's visibly very insecure about this stuff, and having people attempt to kick him down during every success he gets (which he works very hard for) will lead to him needing validation from elsewhere. clearly, social media is supposed to give him this.

but like someone in the community pointed out, now he's appealing to hundreds of thousands of people instead of just 5 or 6. the praise is awesome, but seeing that people still have criticism of him just makes him throw himself into his work even more. it also probably functions as a form of escapism for him; he's so busy working, editing, writing, he barely even notices that his friends are avoiding him. it's possible he's purposely using youtube as a way to ignore his gut. anyways, blue's still willing to hang out and record with him, so what's the issue? (it's not as if blue is the least confrontational of the cg lol)

i have. been in this exact position. the moment you make anything, you're looking straight at the numbers. it becomes what you think of in the morning and during the creation process. you're skimming comments for keywords--- good, bad, more, less, etc. you listen even when you don't mean to. yeah maybe the guy was a little mean about one of my friends but ultimately it's just constructive criticism! it's not like she'll see this anyway. it's fine.

and yeah green needs to stop being so obsessive but i think he deserves to break down first. like what ash said--- he expresses his negative emotions the least out of everyone, he barely takes breaks, it's going to come crashing down. and i think when cg confront him about his behaviour he deserves to yell at them for the way he gets treated. it really hurts when all you are is the butt of the joke even when they mean it in a lighthearted way. if the arc just ends with green being knocked down a peg as usual, i will be very fucking upset because he's literally already at the bottom of the ladder, what more do you want?

[thatwritterbeach]

One messed up bat .3

Dc masterlist

Batfam x reader x Jason Todd eventually

Summary: the batfam's approach to Y/n self harming. She makes a run for it, doens't get far of course

Warnings: self harm, self hate, innuendos, 18+ talk, Jason making passes at Y/n

A/n: I do not own dc wah

"I'll be out in a second." At least she'd cleaned up quick. Her eyes were bloodshot from puking but that was easy to pass off for just tears, she's already brushed her teeth and the bathroom was free of evidence. With a deep breath she opened the door to Jason leaning against the frame.

"I punched him for ya, Dick wouldn't let me get in more than one but I'll try again later," he tried to joke but she knew from the blood on his knuckles it was true.

"You didn't have to, I'm sorry I put a back slide in your healing-"

"You didn't do shit, pretty, it was all him, sure we'd been slowly makin' amends but I don't need him. I need you happy and safe, and he can't do either."

"I'm fine, or I'll be fine, or whatever it is you wanna hear, thank you for sticking up for me-"

"I can't let ya hurt yourself, sweets. Dick and I have decided on a plan," he said grabbing one of her hands to pull her over to her bed. She sat on the edge ready to bolt if she needed.

"You two making plans is never a good sign..."

"We're gonna move in here-"

"Oh hell no, we'll all kill each other!"

"We'll manage, for you. We'll take out old rooms, I promise not to smother Bruce with a pillow in his sleep and we can take turns sitting with you-"

"I'm not a child-" He stopped her with a pointed look, his eyes dropping just for a second to her chest.

"I know that-"

"Don't look at my boobs when you say that you weirdo."

"Stop interrupting. When should I look at your boobs then," he said then cringed at himself.

"Uh, um, I don't know? Not -I mean, this isn't a porno bro, so unless you wanna help me get unstuck from the dryer-"

"Ha, you saw that one too," he cut her off with a panicked laugh. His hand working through his hair.

"Just the memes, I don't watch-you know what never mind. Don't look at my tits-"

"Why is he looking at your...um," Dick accused in that 'I'm her older brother I will kill you with a spoon voice'.

"Can we just back to my self harm," she begged burying her face in her hands in embarrassment.

"Yes please," Jason said with relief. Dick was glaring at him, then used a finger to slash across his throat in the universal I'll kill you gesture.

"Anyway, Tim is laying out the ground rules for Bruce. Which is he's not allowed to be in any room alone with you, he doesn't get any shifts as your emotional support buddy-"

"Babysitter."

"-and he's grounded from the cave until we track down the joker and cut him into tiny pieces," Dick continued like she said nothing.

"Damian agreed to drug him if we had to, to avoid the no kill rule," Jason clarified.

"You guys are the best, none-legal, half-step-adopted-but-not-really-sibling-friends a girl could ask for. But you don't need to hunt for him, I know just where he is. I was gonna deliver his head to Jason for his birthday."

"You were gonna give me head-shit I mean a head for my birthday," Jason stuttered. The others blinked at him then Dick smacked him upside the head and Y/n started laughing.

"What is it with you? Do you need to get laid that badly? I'm nothing to look at you dork," she said with disturbing ease, shaking her head like she was scolding a puppy.

"Don't say that," Dick chided sitting on the bed and pulling her sideways into his lap. She flopped over onto him awkwardly with her arms pinned to her sides by him so she couldn't wiggle free.

"I think you're gorgeous, sweets." She snorted in disbelief.

"Yeah, right my family says I'm not ugly and I'm just supposed to take their word for it, nice try. The only person in this house that doesn't lie is Damian."

"I'd prove it to you if buzz kill wasn't here."

"Dude!"

"Oh my God, enough with the sex talk! Tim might hear-"

"Hear what?"

"Ok, seriously does the robin training include popping up at bad times did I miss that lesson?"

"Why are you just now getting the sex talk," Tim asked with a shit eating grin, little fucker knew something. She narrowed her eyes at him but his grin stayed.

"No, Jason keeps making passes like a damn player," Dick explained.

"Bout time," Tim said flopping himself down on her bed on his stomach.

"hardly a time for jokes, Tim-"

"No really, he loves you, you love him just kiss already-"

"You are so dead," Dick shouted rolling her off to the side to make a grab for Jason, who's instincts kicked in and had him out the door in a blink. Their footsteps could be heard pounding down the hall followed by a few crashes.

"Alfred's gonna be pissed," Tim said like he didn't just start it.

"Dude what the hell, why would you lie about something like that," she whispered shouted at him.

"I know you love him-"

"But he doesn't love me you little shit, it's horrible for you to start trouble."

"Speaking of trouble just how much damage did you cause before Jason got up here?"

"A little."

"Let me see."

"No."

"Then I'll just have the others hold you down-"

"Fine fine, when did you get so mean. I swear just last week you weren't saying more than two words to me," she grumbled rolling her shorts up to show him the bandages. They were shallow so no blood had soaked through but he pulled a knife from his pocket to cut them away and check any how.

"I'm sorry I've-we've all been distant with you, but you just seemed so...okay. I mean before Dick pissed you off your voice echoed down the halls as you sang. Every time I passed you you were dancing. You baked cookies with Alfred every other day- I just... I'm sorry I couldn't read between the lines," he said wadding up the gauze and letting her wounds get some air.

"Tim, the singing and dancing and the fake smiles were meant to throw you off, there was no between the lines," she explained softly.

He didn't respond just continues to look at her cuts, the burn scars and what he was really hoping wasn't words carved into her skin, they were so faded they blended with the stretch mark but he was sure he could make out a few letters. Dick came back into the room alone, looking smug but his smile dropped when he saw her.

"Tim! You were supposed to watch her," he whisper shouted crossing the room and dropping to his knees on the bed.

"I did this before any of you got in here, one last hurrah," she laughed. Dick wasn't laughing, he'd found the letters too.

"What did these say?"

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb, you have letters scared, what did they say?"

She yanked her shorts down and became invested in her cuticles turning her body away and getting ready to run. Dick sat down on the bed about a foot from her trying to give her a bit of space but all he did was give her an opening. She was up and out of reach with a quickness only a past robin could have but she'd underestimated them Dick was in her path and Tim was to her side blocking the bathroom door just as quick. With little to no deliberation she bolted for her balcony. Slamming the doors behind herself she all but leapt from the guard rail and scaled the vine covered lattice with ease. They were close behind and she had to really kick it into gear to run, zigzagging to avoid them.

"Hey, what the hell guys," Jason voice said from only a few feet from her.

"Shit," she said to herself, her shorter legs going as fast as they could, just a little further and she'd be off the property. Of course she was in slippers and her feet were getting soaked from the damp grass, she was just thankful she hadn't-shit she jinxed it, she fucking slipped, right before the damn gate too. Three annoyed vigilantes were dog piled on her before she could even begin to stand back up and fell flat on her stomach in defeat.

"Thanks for the workout," Jason groaned at her his body draped over her legs.

"I forgot how fast you were itty bitty bat," Dick said from his position on his knees next to her, one hand on her back to hold her down.

"Just where did you think you were gonna go," Tim asked, he was just straight up sitting on her like an annoying little brother showing off that he'd grown taller.

"Can I get up now?" They all eased up but before she could get her to her feet Jason tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman carry. His ass looked great in his sweatpants damnit.

"Hey," she shouted smacking his hip, he smacked the back of her thigh in response and she was disturbed to find she'd liked it.

"So what did we learn," Dick asked bending down to be eye level with her.

"That I need to spend more time on the treadmill."

(this entire time I keep picturing Tim off to the side sipping an iced coffee like he's watching a 3d movie)

The walk back to the manner took a little while and Jason was sure to give her a bumpy ride. Unfortunately he'd discovered after he'd tossed her on his shoulder she was in fact not wearing a bra. He could feet her nipples, which had hardened from the cold, against his back as she tried to cling to him for a less rough ride. if Dick was going to kill him before, he was going to make him dig his own grave now. Of course, he felt disgusted for the thoughts he had about his technically adopted sister, even more so with what he'd said to her. If Tim was right, and she loved him back he would die happy. Now though, he had to focus on making her happy.

9-26-24

taglist

@stormz369

[froggy-demon]

Ford x College Age!Reader (gender neutral)

Please accept this offering Ford lovers, I plan on doing some pre portal ford writing so pleaseee send requests for pre portal ford/stan, also open to (almost) any other asks !! <3

You’re in college for either business or a STEM program, in fact it’s the summer before your senior year of your program

You had been looking for internships to take on over the summer when one of your aunts insisted upon reaching out to a friend of hers from college

“Smart man that Pines, told me he owed me a favor one time and I’m sure he has something for you to work on!”

You were not so sure about shipping out to the middle of Oregon to work for some old college buddy of your Aunt’s, but off you went anyway, it was better for your resume than nothing.

So you had been working at the Mystery Shack

Upon arriving you found that there was in fact two ‘Stan’s, there was the one who actually went by Stan as well as Ford, your Aunt’s actual former classmate.

Stan was very laid back, and he loved having an extra set of cheap hands around the shop even if it meant you were taking up the (formerly wax statue) spare room and drinking all their coffee. You grew on him pretty quickly and you had a very friendly and sarcastic sort of dynamic, it was easy to joke around with him and the two of you were absolutely encourageable

Ford was not so quick to warm up to you it seemed. He was certainly the more serious of the two and always had some experiment to work on or thing to engineer, meaning you also just didn’t spend as much time with him off the bat.

“It’s too easy to get hurt. I can’t exactly send you back home with a broken arm, or worse, I fear your Aunt will trek all the way up here just to wack me on the head!”

That said he did sometimes let you come down to the lab, especially if you played it off by bringing a coffee for him and offered to organize or clean something up (Ford had no motivation in cleaning his horribly chaotic labs, but he did very much enjoy a clean lab when it was possible) and you found yourself sitting at the cash register upstairs just trying to think of excuses to go downstairs more than you’d like to admit.

One afternoon at the shack you were stocking inventory onto the floor while Ford uncharacteristically had been chatting with Stan for quite a while in the gift shop. you’d been stealing glances their way, but Ford’s back was to you anyway, his six fingered hands clasped behind his back as they often were. After the third of fourth time Stan caught you he winked at you, “like what you see?” He teased. Your ears burned when Ford turned to follow where his twin was looking, you turned back to the merchandise in front of you replying sarcastically “yeah these Bigfoot snow globes are pretty cool.” Earning a laugh from Stan and from the corner of your eye you could see Ford smiling at you curiously before going back to their conversation.

Eventually Ford had gone back downstairs and two tour groups later you were still thinking about the way he had look at you. It was ridiculous though, he was supposed to be your mentor this summer and you’d been brought up to date on all the freaky goings ons of last summer when he walked out of a different dimension, not to mention he had a few decades on you. He wasn’t the first older man to have caught your eye, but he was the first you fell so hard for. Given this, while you pretended to read all you could think about was what excuse to give Stan. The sound of the “employees only” entrance into the house caught your attention, you were ready to ask for a coffee break and of course you would be polite and bring one to Ford who always appreciated more coffee. Stan didn’t even give you the chance, “I don’t wanna hear it, you are actually going to work the job you have here today.” He chided, inspecting your stock job. “I have rights you know, you still need to give me breaks, I’ve yet to have one today.” You’d defend. “This is not how you get a glowing letter of recommendation.” He grumbled checking shelves for dust that wasn’t there. “Isn’t Ford supposed to write that?” You quirked an eyebrow at his assessment of the store, he is not normally so picky. “Fucking- Fine I guess so, is that why you want to go kiss his ass right now?” The older man asked walking back over to you at the cash register, evidently satisfied with the store. His arms were crossed over his chest, now he was assessing you, clearly he could tell you were working an angle, but couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was. You took the excuse, hopping out of your seat. “Yup! Thank you Stan!” You said walking past him. “For what?” He asked. “For the rest of the day off!” And you disappeared through the door he had just come through before he could argue. Quickly you went to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee and before long had poured two cups just the way you each liked them. You quietly walked down the staircase carefully not to disturb the scientist prematurely, a knot building in your stomach, some mix of anxiety and excitement. Ford always mumbled to himself while working, something you honestly found kinda charming, but it also made it easy to know which room he was in if you just listened for his low voice. “Dr. Ford?” You called out as you approached the open door. You had called him ‘Dr. Ford’ the first time you met him and he had lit up at the title ‘Dr. Ford, I like that’ he had said with a smile, it always pulled a small smile to his lips to hear you call him like that.

Three doctorates and only one person he knows uses his proper title! He certainly wasn’t going to stop you, especially when you always said it so sweetly, it almost sounded like a compliment the way you said it and it definitely boosted his ego like one. He liked that about you, you may have seemed friendlier with Stan, but never sweet like you are with him. “Come in, come in” he called, glancing quickly towards you before continuing writing. “I was making myself fresh coffee and thought you might like one as well?” You offered holding one mug out to him. He placed his pen on his page closing the journal to take the mug from you as you walked in. Taking a sip his smile widened, “two sugars, perfect, thank you.” He said. Your coffee always tasted better than his, sometimes he’s even put off getting himself a fresh one in hope you would offer instead.

He watched you walk over to the seat on the opposite side of the table and sit down with your own mug, his eyes clung to the curve of your silhouette for longer than they should. Internally he chastised himself for even wanting to look at you that way, some your age—it wasn’t appropriate, but the guilt still never stopped him. “Is there anything else I can help with?” You asked, looking around the room. Ford forced him mind to push out the thought of something you could help him with. “Well,” he paused to clear his throat, “I’m not sure if there is much to be done today. Just boring data entry.” Your mouth formed a small frown at his words, still not looking back at him as you anxious tapped your mug. “What about your glassware, I’d be happy to clean and sanitize them, I know it can be a pain.” You offered, acutely aware that you didn’t actually see any dirty lab equipment, maybe he was hiding it all in one room like a kid after being told to clean up. Ford had already done that though, he seemed easily distracted today so his focus had been on tasks that didn’t necessarily require full mental effort like cleaning the glassware and simple data entry. His eyes dwelled on your mouth when you bit your lip at this news, all your usual tasks had been done already, “Well, is it okay if I just read down here then? I like the quiet.” You asked softly trying to ignore the light blush you could feel dusting your face. He nodded, unsure of why you wanted to, but happy to accommodate, especially if it meant his got to observe you more.

After that Ford found himself watching you more often whenever you were around, even going out of his way to go up to the gift shop when you knew he was there to hang around or talk to Stan. He also liked when you’d ask for his help: “Dr. Ford? Could you reach that box?” “Dr. Ford, can you help me move the display?” He loved feeling needed by you.

His thoughts about you were loudest at night though, when the store was closed and you’d just be hanging around the shack in your pjs. He would try to work late, especially once Stan caught him looking at you as your reached for the top of a cabinet on your tiptoes, the hem of your shirt and shorts each riding up exposing even more skin. Stan had walked in and promptly clocked his brother, silently hitting him on the back of the head, ‘Need me to reach that for ya?’

Yeah he didn’t trust himself to be subtle enough around you in that state, even if he craved it.

You on the other hand were worried you’d done something wrong seeing his withdrawal. Still, he never turned away your coffee, he’d get this soft tired look in his eyes every time you handed it to him, you knew this was a weak point for him. One you didn’t mind exploiting.

You and Stan have just finished a watch of one of those cheesy and overly generic horror movies that played nonstop on channel 13, he was off to bed for the night, but you hadn’t seen Ford come up since before dinner. The man kept odd sleeping hours, but you brewed a decaf pot just to be safe. The summer heat and barely working ac unit of the mystery shack meant you were only ever able to wear your little sleep shorts and a tank top or maybe an oversized tshirt overnight and this was no exception. Totallyyyy no other reason…

You crept down the staircase with his coffee in hand, thinking of your excuse, readying a reason to stick around. “Dr. Ford? It’s pretty late you know, you should be getting to bed soon.” You called out, keeping your voice light. When you got to the bottom of the stairs you saw he was in the main room sitting at the first table with one hand propping up his chin as tired eyes examined the journal he was writing in. “You’re one to talk.” He retorted with a weary smile before looking up towards you. Ford could feel his face warm at the sight of you, what a sight you were, your pjs hugged the shape of you revealing the tops of your thighs, the curve of your hips, even a section of your waist exposed. His eyes raked over you slowly as you approached him, you were very pleased to have caught his attention. “I couldn’t sleep,” you said, holding out his mug, leaning one hip against the table next to where his hands rested. Ford hesitated before taking the mug. “It’s decaf, coffee is not a replacement for sleep.” You said and he finally took it. His eyes were fighting to focus on yours, your hands overlapping on the mug as you transferred it. You could feel the callouses that had formed on his hands over time rake across your softer skin and it nearly sent a shiver down your spine as the little voice in the back of your head begged to know what they would feel like against more of your skin. “I know.” Was all he said flatly, closing his journal and eliciting a frown out of you. He pushed his glasses up, pinching his eyes closed as he rubbed them from a mix of tiredness and trying to focus his guilty mind. “Dr. Ford?” You asked, adding to the knot forming in his gut. “Do I bother you?” You asked, pulling yourself onto the table so that your legs dangled over the side, trying to read him. Truly it was impossible for you to tell if he had decided you were the most annoying person in town or if he possibly returned the interest you held in him. Ford leaned back in his seat, looking back at you, feeling ashamed that he wanted to do nothing more than to spread your soft thighs in front of him and show you just how highly he thought of you, ‘does this feel like you bother me?’ He’d coo, but he couldn’t. “Why do you ask?” He managed to say, his voice coming out lower than usual. You’re soft lips pressed together as you searched for the right words, “Stan said I’d been bugging you too much and you just seemed withdrawn when I tried to help down here, I’m sorry.” Your voice was soft and your thumb was subconsciously busy digging into your other nail beds one at a time, a nervous tick. Ford parted his lips, pausing, choosing his words very carefully, “Of course not, in fact I’ve been very grateful to have you here, it’s just-“ his eyes were transfixed on your hands, resting in your lap, he placed his larger hand on top, stilling your anxious movement. “-I’ve been having a hard time concentrating on my work when you’re around.” His choice of words made your heart pound in your chest. “I’m not used to be observed.” He added, deflating you once more. You had no idea what to do with him, all you could think about was that his skin was touching yours, fixating on the way his thumb was gently rubbing your hand. At one point you knew you would have to just say it because this second he was driving you absolutely crazy. He so rarely touched you and here, so alone, so late, so exposed, you desperately needed a conclusion.

“Ford?” You started, the sound rang in his ears. He was always ‘Dr. Ford’ to you, always, as much as he loved hearing you use his title the lack of it here was even more arousing. You felt your face burning as you built up the courage to continue, “I’d like it if you kissed me.” You wanted to say something more, but it all was caught in your throat. His thumb stopped, neither of you said a word as you sat perfectly still, you wanted to run up the stairs and never look at him again and probably die of embarrassment at some point along the way from the silence. Finally, he moved his hand off of yours, you closed your eyes unwilling to take in the sight of him, even when you felt him cup your cheek and gently turn your face towards him. “You shouldn’t want to.” Was all he said, but when you raised your eyes to look at him his face was so soft, you leaned into his touch, placing a hand on the arm reached out to you. A small “Please” was the only encouragement he needed before he buckled, shoving aside what he think should be and focusing on what he desperately wanted, he slid his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a gentle kiss. His guilt and worry washed away, this was perfect you were perfect. Finally, what you had been daydreaming of for weeks happened, your fingers quickly found themselves in his hair and his free hand moved to your thigh, squeezing the soft exposed skin. You reveled in the taste of him, coffee mixing with the scent of leather filled your senses as you leaned further into him. His hand on your thigh began to explore you, squeezing your hips, tracing around your waist, threatening the hem of your shirt, you encouraged him by parting your lips gently and allowing him to deepen the kiss. Ford was eager to, eliciting a small groan to escape you and only turning him on more, such a sweet sound, he wanted more of them. His grip on you tightened bringing more sweet moans to his ears yet just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. He pulled away resting his forehead on yours letting you both process and catch your breath. Ford wanted to do everything he’d been envisioning of the last few weeks, but he also didn’t want to rush things with you, it wasn’t just lust for him. He had grown incredibly attached to you, the way you smiled and laughed and were sweet to him and smart, he wanted more of all of you. He moved both of his hands down to your waist, tracing tiny circles there with his thumbs keeping you captivated, afraid to break the tension. “That was a good idea.” He practically panted, rolling his head down to your neck where he planted gentle, barely there, kisses up towards your jaw. On one hand he wanted to taste more of you, but on the other he was embarrassed for you to see the desperation for you that he couldn’t keep off of his face. “We should both get some rest.” He asserted against your skin. You melted at his touch and you didn’t want to leave this moment, but you couldn’t produce a whole sentence fast enough. “Before you get to working tomorrow,” he planted one more kiss on your cheek, “come back down here okay?” You breathily agreed, Ford hummed and released you, his eyes tracing over you again, using all the composure he had left to restrain himself in front of you as you hopped down and left for your room for the night. Admittedly you both had a very difficult time falling asleep.

The first few days after that you didn’t say much on the matter. You had done as asked and found him back in the lab looking better rested than normal the next day, fully dressed, he was less confident, but you were eager for his touch and his lips on your skin again. It repeated like that for the next couple nights, until you worked up the courage to ask him, while sitting on his lap and acutely aware of a hickey forming just below the collar of your tshirt, “Ford,” you caught his attention seeing his eyes flick their focus back to your face, “I absolutely enjoy this, but-“ crimson washed over your features, unsure the right way to proceed. You didn’t want to scare him off, nor for your late nights to end, but you also had to tell him your feelings for him. “I like you as more than this I-“ Ford you kept one arm around your back to keep you steady as he moved the other to take one of your hands, bringing in front of his lips. “I’d like more than this.” He finished for you, kissing your knuckles gently, he fumbled for his words a moment before stopping and taking a deep breath, “I treasure you far too much to not want more.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night on the roof after that, talking mostly, kissing some, Ford had a wonderfully awful trait of wandering hands while he spoke. Whenever he was listening to you though his mind was too occupied to wander so much, instead he busied himself by playing with your hair or holding your face. Whenever you’d point out his handsiness he’d become flustered and turn pink, even under the moonlight you could tell that he was flushed as he stuttered out an explanation.

While you didn’t immediately say anything to Stan, he caught on fairly quickly that something had shifted with the two of you, especially since he had picked up on Ford’s attraction in the past. ‘How the hell did that happen?’ Stan asked on a particularly slow day when it was just the two of you in the gift shop, you didn’t need to hear his train of thought to know what he meant. ‘You don’t seriously think I liked brewing that much coffee just for fun do you?’ Which was enough for him seeing how much his brother had been smiling and even sleeping more regularly. (Something was tiring him out for once)

[hayanwulf]

Painful Flowers

Tony stared down at the scene in abject horror.

Flowers and petals pooled the entire floor of the room. The large four-poster bed had literally turned into a flower bed, comprising of flora unlike anything on Earth. Their shapes and colors were otherworldly, some colors unrecognizable even, each one of them possessing an unfathomable beauty.

And amidst it, covered in thorny vines and soft flowers, lay the cold, motionless body of Stephen Strange.

Tony had never hated flowers more in his life than he did right at that moment.

He slowly stepped in, his gut twisting into knots, senses repelled by the sweet, floral scent in the air, trying to ignore the way the petals felt squashy under his boots.

This had to be a nightmare. This had to be. Maybe if he punched himself now, he’d find himself back in his workshop, neck lying on his desk in an appalling angle that would pain him for the rest of the day; back in a world where, with just a quick call, the wizard would instantly show up at his workshop, walking out of a sparking portal with a haughty remark on his lips, his cloak fluttering on non-existent wind.

It was exactly a week ago that he had done just that.

Exactly a week ago when he had seemed fine. Or the week before that, during Tony and Pepper’s wedding. Or the week before that, when they had met up for their usual lunch date.

He had been completely fine.

There had been no outward signs. No coughing or concerning shortage of breath. No indications of a sad or downhearted mood. No traces of anything being wrong. No, he had simply been his usual self. Snarky, throwing playful banters around with Tony that they both found easy to engage in, sharp as a pencil with his comebacks, a trace of content satisfaction always wrapped around his aura whenever he was around Tony.

He could still recall the brightened expression in the sorcerer’s face when they had met last week, that small, genuine smile he had given Tony, his eyes sparkling with a special kind of attention which they didn’t seem to hold for many people in this world.

“Are you happy?” He had asked Tony, at the end of the day. “With you marriage?”

“Couldn’t imagine being happier,” Tony had replied, letting all of his contentment pour into his words.

“I’m happy for you, Tony.”

They hadn’t met after that day. Tony had sent a couple of texts, especially one about their missed lunch date on Wednesday, and had never gotten a reply. But that hadn’t raised any concerns or suspicions. Why would it have? They were superheroes, their lives were busy and unpredictable.

And now, a week later, Stephen lay lifelessly in his own bed, succumbed to Hanahaki.

Unpredicted in the most unpredictable way.

Tony dared to look down at the man’s face.

There was some scabbed blood at a corner of his lips, red-bathed flowers lying next to his head and on his neck from where he had obviously coughed them out of his lungs. Even in his frozen state, his eyebrows were a little tense, scrunched-up as though in pain.

It was very slow and very painful, Tony realized.

The thought made something squeeze painfully tight in his chest.

A blue butterfly sat on his nose, its wings opening and closing slowly. Tony had no way of knowing if it was supposed to be one of his magic butterflies, or if it had simply found its way in through some crack on the windows, allured by the fragrant flowers.

Sickening flowers.

There was a disturbing-looking thin, green vine coming out of the side of his eye. Thorns dotted the length of the vine, needle-thin and menacing.

He had wept thorny vines, not normal tears.

And it looked excruciating.

Tony hadn’t even known that was something possible in Hanahaki. Probably shouldn’t be. Probably had to do something with magic, the same magic that had resulted in all of these unrecognizable flowers Tony was staring down at, instead of normal, Earthly flowers.

“How..?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Wong sighed softly from somewhere at his right. Tony didn’t care to look as the other sorcerer spoke, his eyes unable to leave the impossibly pale, lifeless man lying in front of him.

“According to the apprentices, he locked himself in a week ago. I was gone to another dimension the entire week. When I came back it was to learn that he hadn’t been seen around the entire time. It took me hours to break the spells he put up to ward his room.” A pause, then a tentative, “He left us sometime last night.”

Tony’s eyes stung as he took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief. This couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. Nothing made sense here. “He visited me a week ago. He was fine.” His words quivered.

“Don’t forget that he.. was, a powerful sorcerer. He’s been hiding his condition for a while.”

Tony snapped his head over to Wong, glaring at him through tears. “Not powerful enough to overcome fucking petal disease?”

He vibrated with anger. Whether that was towards Wong or the unmoving man on the bed or that fucked up disease, he didn’t know.

It didn’t make sense. You didn’t just die from Hanahaki, not in 21st century where you had effective solutions for symptom management and high-tech life support, where you had access to therapy and support communities and what-fucking-not. Very, very rarely did Hanahaki progress into a terminal stage in the modern world, and those were almost always cases where the person’s unrequited love or significant other had passed away, leaving them with no way of having a closure.

Wong’s own gaze was stuck on Stephen, eyes stricken with grief and what seemed like guilt. “Then maybe his love was more powerful than his magic.”

The comment made him recoil, his stomach twisting with a complicated mix of emotions he didn’t understand, his eyes moving back to the bed of flowers.

Stephen had never told him anything. He.. they had been friends. At least.. at least Tony had thought so.

Clearly, Stephen hadn’t shared the sentiment. Because Tony had never been told about this.. this soul-crushing love Stephen had held for someone in this world. He had sat next to Tony through tedious meetings about the Accords, had shared lunch with Tony every Wednesday, had taught Tony the endless wonders of magic, had made him love magic rather than fear it, had listened to Tony rant late at night about his latest inventions..

He had fought alongside Tony on Titan, had stayed with him through pain and hopelessness and victory. He had stood by Tony’s side as the government had welcomed Rogers back to the states and he had never left.

And yet.. yet he’d never trusted Tony enough to confide in him, to tell him that he held someone so close to his heart.

No, instead he had chosen to lock himself up in his room for the final days of his life, withering away as more and more tragically beautiful flowers sprouted out of his misery.

It stung.

It stung so bad, it constricted around Tony’s heart and lungs like a python’s death grip, dug its disgusting blackened claws deep into the crevices of his soul, made it hard to breathe as he attempted to suck in a ragged breath.

Suddenly the pain morphed, and a vengeful kind of anger rose, higher and higher until it was boiling just beneath his skin. He turned his eyes to Wong.

“Who?”

Wong closed his eyes in a pained movement, shaking his head. “It is not my place to tell.”

Between one moment and another, Tony had crossed over to the sorcerer, holding the neck of his tunic in a vicious grip, eyes fiercely glaring down at the other man. “Don’t fucking bullshit me, Wong,” he spat, voice almost a growl from the ferocious anger roaring inside of him. “He’s.. he’s gone and it doesn’t matter anymore whose place it is to tell! Who did he love?”

Wong did not wither under his gaze in the least. “And what will you do, once you learn their name?”

“I will give them a piece of my fucking mind,” he snarled. “I will tell them how despicable a person they are, for not accepting his love.” For rejecting the person who would have given them an endless repertoire of affection, who would have treated them with nothing less than utmost respect, who was possibly, quite literally, capable of plucking the moon and stars out of the sky on their command.

How fucking dare they not even give him a chance?

Tony would not forgive them. He would tell them exactly what they had done, what they had turned down.

To be entirely honest, he was currently in a state of mind where he would probably just uproot their entire life and personally make sure that they would never be able to experience love again.

Wong didn’t need to know that, however.

“And what if they didn’t know?”

Tony’s grip wavered a little. “What?”

“What if Stephen had never confessed his love, as you seem to assume.”

He looked at the sorcerer from one eye to the other, feeling his own eyebrows crease progressively. “He would.”

Wong shook his head. “He didn’t.”

Tony abruptly released the sorcerer, stepping back as frustration boiled in his chest. “He would. Why wouldn’t he? If he loved them so much..” If he loved them enough to reach the terminal stage of Hanahaki, to not seek treatment in time.. surely, that meant that he had confessed his love to them?

Nobody died of Hanahaki. Nobody wanted to die — well, except suicidal people, but they didn’t necessarily go seeking out Hanahaki for that particularly. Nobody would.

Hanahaki was cruel. It was torture, the worst kind of body horror. It slowly turned your insides into flowers, pretty and fragrant and absolutely sardonic with the way it birthed beauty out of your despair, making you feel every bit of agony as you lost parts of yourself bit by bit, quite literally.

So no, there was no way Stephen would’ve wanted that. Surely, he’d have tried to court his love first before giving up so hopelessly, right?

“He had his reasons, Stark,” Wong said, and Tony couldn’t believe this. No. He couldn’t take this anymore.

What fucking reason warranted preferring to die over never getting over, nor confessing his love?

Why?

Why?

He wanted to walk over to Stephen, grab his shoulders by force and shake him, maybe slap him a few until he expelled all the answers. God, he wished he could do that right now.

‘I’m happy for you, Tony.’

He wished he had asked Stephen at that moment, if he was happy.

He wished he could rewind time. Wished he could go back to the previous week and ask exactly that. And then pin the sorcerer down in his workshop, not let him leave, plug him to a life support right then and there and bully him into accepting treatment.

He wished he could just.. talk to him.

About all the damn questions and mysteries swirling in Tony’s mind. About everything that Tony should have talked about, sooner. About why Stephen thought that his love for this person was important enough to give up his life for.

Why.

Why..

Damn it, Stephen.

His legs gave out and he crumpled to the floor, thick, hot tears streaming down his face. His hand touched the floor, and caught the silken texture of petals. He clamped his fist over them until it hurt, feeling the sickening velvet getting crushed in his grip.

The blue butterfly that had been giving Stephen company, fluttered down to Tony and settled on his thigh, almost as though trying to provide him a soothing touch with its weightless wings. One last piece of Stephen, trying to tell him, it’s okay.

It was the only semblance of comfort.

And an absolute joke of a closure.

Because he knew nothing. He had no answers, and now, he would never have the chance to obtain them.

[ohplasticheart]

I guess, somehow, we made it back and with a few dreams of ours still intact

[glacier-shrimp]

I can't believe I haven't drawn my boy yet!! esp with these whiskers haha (reference pic below to prove that I'm not exaggerating, they really get that poofy)

Bonus pic that I thought of using but it was too blurry:

Bonus bonus pic just because I like sharing my boy:

[titaniumions]

🥀

[dream-sans-mogai]

This will probably get looks from performative and ultimately harmful non-transfems despite my being transfem but-

Some y'alls only interaction with feminist history and theories, radical feminism regardless of its intersectionality and really any feminism deeper and louder and meaner than blatant choice feminism like the barbie movie and whatever TF taylor swift thinks shes got going on is through your occasional and short interactions with terfs and it shows. You call vagina art terfy and it fucking isnt. Its feminist art. Your brainrot is making you a fucking mra. The fact y'all think talking about the man vs bear situation is about/started/ran by terfs (and encouraged some really questionable other transfems shitting on it despite it clearly just being about women's safety and yes all men, not transphobia.), everything from questioning wether certain groups belong in our community to thinking a word is a slur or having a lesbian icon (I have sources don't test me) or not to not liking a certain band has been called "terf rhetoric". I'm all for us Transmascs talking about how terfs affect us cause they absolutely do and their harm to the transmasc community can not be understated but like.... Y'all are not allowed to call Jack shit terf rhetoric anymore. Like nothing. You don't know what it means, you litterally call transmedicalism and sysmedicalism terf rhetoric. Do you mean exclusionist? Say exclusionist. Terfs are not the end all be all hate group. They have a very specific complex mindset that affects so many people in specific ways. Someone hating Neopronouns is not fucking terf rhetoric. It's nbphobia. Holy fuck. Learn what words mean.

(intersectional trans radfems exist, radical feminism isn't terfs and swerfs and historical radfems would laugh in their faces for their idiocy)

[toytulini]

god my executive dysfunction is so fucking Bad lately

[sysig]

She’s only a little thing! (Patreon)

[flamedork]

s1 penelope’s hair has it out for me

[unproduciblesmackdown]

yo what the fuck lmfao not the tiny little actor kid playing eddie in the it movies voicing alberto a la luca. zero recognition like kind of could deepfake it in my head litchrelly i mean like those actor children being quite small & then even recording something a few years later like alright yeah voice just dropped a ways already but i definitely had to stare intently at the [looking that up] textual confirmation. absolutely zero resonance at the time a whole like month ago lol go figure. congrats on the bisexuality too he/they king

[victorluvsalice]

-->Before deciding she absolutely had to indulge her romantic side with Victor and went over to give him a massage by the cowshed. Fortunately, she'd licked herself clean before doing this; unfortunately, the timing meant that Victor ended up standing in the trash he'd just cleaned out of the cowshed while this happened. XD The things we do for romance... Alice then changed back to normal as Smiler -- fresh off harvesting all their plasma fruit and herbalism stuff out of the greenhouse -- joined them in the paddock to hang out. They ended up entertaining Shadow, who'd also followed everyone in there, while Alice chatted with Moory and gave her a good milking, and Victor sorted through the trash for upgrade parts before cleaning himself off with some Scruberoo. You know, just a typical day on the farm. :p

-->With most of the chores beyond completing the daily greenhouse harvest (which Victor got sent to do once he was clean) now done, and New Year’s Eve officially started as a holiday, it was time to turn my attention to holiday traditions – namely, resolutions! I started with Alice and checked what was available for her – completing an aspiration milestone, getting fit, losing weight, etc, etc. Doing an aspiration milestone sounded interesting, so I decided to check to see what milestones she might be close to completing. And just for fun, I started with the Fabulously Wealthy aspiration –

And immediately completed the entire aspiration, since she’d already fulfilled all the goals. XD She now has the "Shrewd” reward trait, which means that she now gets a payment of 5% of the household funds added to the total pot every week. I checked Mansion Baron after that, just to see if she’d completed that too – nope, but she’s ALMOST done with it. Just need to make sure the house is worth a bit more – and get a bunch of columns. XD That is more of an aspiration for me to complete, though (and I am actually planning on doing a playsession that revolves around remodeling the house a bit at some point), so I decided the aspiration milestone she was going to complete would be in Renaissance Sim instead – she just has to get two more skills up to level 8 and she’s golden!

So that settled her resolution – but what about Smiler and Victor? Well, I decided they could complete aspiration milestones too – Smiler is just one party away from completing another level of the Party Animal aspiration after all, and Victor three duels away from completing one in the Spellcraft & Sorcery aspiration! I also decided they could auto-complete Fabulously Wealthy as well, so now we have three Shrewd Sims living in the same household. I suspect the money is going to start piling up VERY RAPIDLY. XD

-->Okay, enough about resolutions – time to finish up things around the house! Smiler took on decorating duty as per usual, putting up some fun bunting and banners outside, while Alice gave Shadow a good brushing and played some laser pointer with Kelly. Shadow then went outside and whined at Victor that she wanted a walk, so once Victor had finished his harvest and officially made his resolution, he took her on a short stroll down to the riverside to do her business. Which for some reason ended with her getting spooked by something, lying down, and covering her eyes with her paw and Victor having to unleash her and scratch her special spot to make her happy again. *shrug* I guess she is a very nervous doggo... Smiler, meanwhile, spotted that Toothy needed a feed and gave the cowplant some meat and a bit of playtime to stop it chomping down on any passing Sims and making this the world's most awkward New Year's Eve. :p They then moved onto checking the latest SimsTube trends and answering comments on their videos, before being sent downstairs to fix MORE broken wind turbines in the wind farm. *heavy sigh* Seriously, it is SO RARE for all of them to be working... Alice, for her part, ended up double-checking the chicken coop, cleaning it out, and gathering the latest batch of eggs (four normal ones – I guess the one plus of having no rooster is having no hatchable eggs cluttering up the inventory), before going to clean out the spoiled food from the fridge. And Victor finally arrived home from his walk and took the opportunity to license out his song “Wonderland Smiles,” because sure, we need more money. Why not. XD