#also I’ve only seen the show once months ago

[tilundsetning]

Ok, so this gif from @gifshistorical came across my dash and as Daphne’s turn of the wrong century-looking bloomers fed into my increasingly frequent thoughts of « wow, some of the underwear technology in Bridgertonland is certainly miles ahead » (Kate was wearing what looked more like 1940’s French knickers in s2, their shirts seem to button all the way down etc) and then it came to me:

Bridgerton is set in someone’s game of civilisation!

Whoever is playing has probably given up on a domination victory, so that’s why , even though this is set in the 1810’s, none of the several younger sons in the family seem to be even considering a military career.

And by not prioritising the military technologies they are moving very quickly forwards in certain areas of fashion technology (side note: I really want some sort of fashion history expansion of Civ now where you can actually choose these), so they have access to zippers and knickers and aniline dyes and plastic sequins. They haven’t got any « hair up or down » or « difference between daywear and eveningwear » civics in play, but they there’s some sort of Victorian sex ed for girls thing instead.

This also explains the « oh, no, we totally used to have racism too, but we solved that like 15-20 years ago » vibe - that’s when they got the totally colourblind society-civic!

[parallelunivrses]

hmmmm kinda wanna rewatch all of spn………… haven’t done a full rewatch since season 10 was airing I think……… is this a terrible idea….. yes. will that stop me though………

[betterbooktitles]

"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.

Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.

Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.

While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.

Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."

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An essay on Claire Dederer's book Monsters and movies made by monsters.

Writing inside a Toyota Service Center.

Writing mistresses.

[alotofpockets]

Regret | Alexia Putellas x Reader & Leah Williamson x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Where Alexia regrets breaking up with you.

A/n: happiest of birthdays to @greynatomy 💗 Also pretend that everything in italics is actually said in spanish :)

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.8k

-----

You checked your phone when you got back to the locker room after practice. The name you were hoping to see wasn’t among your notifications, so you dropped it back in your pocket with a sombre look. Leah noticed the action she had repeatedly seen over the past couple of days, and decided that she had waited long enough to not ask questions. “Movie night at my place tonight.” By the way she didn’t say it in the form of a question, you knew there was no getting out of this. “Fine, but you’re ordering pizza.” Leah smiled, having achieved what she wanted, “You know I would never say no to pizza.” 

That’s how you found yourself in front of the apartment you knew all too well. When you moved from Barcelona to England just six months ago, Leah had taken you in for the first few weeks, until you found a place in London. Your national teammate Laia had offered as well, but as much as you loved her you took the bed offered by Leah over the offer of her couch. Which ended up being a great decision because you and Leah got close right away, and you would call her one of your best friends currently. You check your phone once more, hoping for that one name to show up, but it wasn’t there so you used the spare key to let yourself into Leah’s place.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Leah yelled out from her bedroom. You quickly put a fake smile on your face when you heard her walking towards you. Leah pretended to not notice for now, and greeted you like nothing happened. She hoped that in the comfort of a one on one hang out you would open up to her on your own, but when you were half way through the movie, and you still hadn’t said anything, she decided that she had given you enough time to come to her. So, the next time your phone buzzed, and your face fell without opening the notification, she paused the movie. “Okay, what’s going on?” You look anywhere but at her, “Nothing is going on Lee, let’s just watch the movie.” 

However, Leah wasn’t going to move on so quickly. “You keep checking your phone, and then looking disappointed, and don’t tell me I’m wrong because I’ve been noticing it all week. Please just tell me what’s going on. Is it Ale?” Your eyes snapped up at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. The broken look behind them said enough for Leah to know that it had everything to do with Alexia. “What did she do? Do I need to fly to Barca to knock some sense into her?” You sigh in frustration, “It isn’t exactly what she did, it’s what she hasn’t done.” Leah was ready to listen and nodded for you to continue. “So, she’s barely spoken to me all week. No video calls, or regular calls, just a couple texts here and there. I keep trying to have a normal conversation with her, and I just get short answers. I’ve asked if she’s okay, and she just keeps saying that everything is fine.” Tears well in your eyes. “It’s not fine though. It can’t be fine, if she’s literally shutting me out.” 

Your phone lights up in the middle of your conversation, and both of you stare at the message that popped up on your screen. 

Alexia: Can we talk?

The dreaded message that you were expecting to receive in the back of your mind. Though you didn’t know the extent of the talk she wanted to have, you knew it couldn’t mean something good after this week. “Are you okay?” Leah put her hand on your knee. “No I’m not, but let’s just get this call over with.” She nodded in understanding, with a squeeze of your knee she got up. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Y/n: Sure, call me

In the back of your mind you knew exactly what this conversation was going to result in, Alexia had been pulling away from you, so there was only one logical outcome of this call for you. You picked up the video call, “Hey.” You left out all nicknames, not wanting to put in unnecessary effort, plus it’s not like she said 'hi' before asking you if you could talk. “Hi y/n, oh you’re not home, we can just talk later.” It felt like a stab in your chest, hearing her use your first name. With a shake of your head you say, “It’s fine, let’s just get this over with, Ale.” 

Alexia started shuffling around nervously. “I’m sorry to do this over a call, but I think we need to break up.” There it was, the words you had seen coming, but still hurt more than you could have imagined. You stared blankly at your screen, not really knowing what to say. Alexia understood, and continued talking. “It’s just been hard on me to do this whole distance thing. There’s a lot going on, and I just need you here by my side. I know I can’t ask you to move back, because you deserve to play at your dream club. So, I think that what’s best for me right now is for us to let each other go.” Tears were now rolling down your cheeks. “Why is the first I’m hearing of this while you’re breaking up with me? I thought communication was so important to you. How long have you been feeling this way?” There was an anger to your tone that made Alexia not be able to keep eye contact. “I didn’t come to this decision rashly, if that’s what you’re asking.” You blink away the tears, your sadness making room for anger. “How long, Alexia?” You stared at her angrily until you got an answer. “About a month.” 

“You are unbelievable. How could you just not say anything? You literally didn’t even give us a fighting chance.” The tears were back. “I’m sorry.” Alexia said softly. “Save your sorrys, they’re not going to fix this.” She nodded, “I know.” You close your eyes, “I guess this is it then.” With a defeated sigh you open your eyes again. “I’m really sorry.” You roll your eyes, “Save it. I’m going to hang up now, I need some space.” With a shaking finger you pressed the end call button without giving Alexia a chance to respond. 

After giving yourself a minute you make your way over to Leah’s room, which you enter after a soft knock. You found her sitting with her headphones on, even though she didn’t understand Spanish, she still wanted to give you your space, which you appreciated. Leah didn’t need to hear you say the words, she could read on your face that it was exactly what you had been thinking. “Oh love, come here.” She patted the bed and opened her arms. You laid down without a second thought, and let her hold you tight. In the comfort of her arms, your tears flowed freely. 

You stayed the night at Leah’s, you didn’t have to ask, and she didn’t have to offer, it just was. Leah had fallen asleep a while ago. You were glad that you weren’t ruining her sleep as well, because you had an early wake up call for a match in the morning. Your mind kept running circles. Three years down the drain like it was nothing, how could she just break-up with you without ever voicing her troubles? 

At some point you must’ve fallen asleep though, because Leah gently shook you awake. “Hey, I’ve got breakfast ready.” You send her a questioning look, Leah didn’t cook. “Okay fine, you’ve got me. Lia picked up breakfast on the way over.” With a small smile you get up and follow her to the kitchen. By the way Lia held you just a little longer in the hug, you knew that Leah had told her. “Stop it Wally, you're going to make me cry.” You didn't mind Leah telling her, cause it meant that it would be one less person you would have to tell yourself. “Thank you for the food, but I'm not really hungry.” Lia nodded, “Okay, I'll just pack some of it up for you then, you're gonna have to eat something before the match.” You knew she was right, so you let her pack up some food, and add it to your backpack, while you slumped down on the couch.

Lia and Leah were talking in the kitchen, while you were staring at the living room ceiling. Your phone dings with a new message, and out of habit you check it right away. The name you so desperately wanted to see pop up all week, now made your stomach turn, and your heart clench.

Alexia: I'm really sorry, I never meant to hurt you. 

You threw your phone in frustration, the device landing on the floor with a loud tud, making Leah enter the room right away. “What's wrong?” Leah picks up the phone and checks if it's okay in the process. “Fucking Alexia clearly doesn't understand what needing space means.” Leah rolled her eyes, “She never learned to listen, did she?” In the short time that Leah had known you, she had heard you complain about the little communication things Alexia lacked to improve on many times. 

Lia entered the living room, “Sorry to interrupt, but we need to head out or we're going to miss the bus.” You grab your back and head to the front door, without a care for your phone, so Leah pockets it in case you would want it later. Lia headed to the driver's seat, and you took the back, letting Leah sit in front with Lia. You were down, and did not want to pull either one of them down with you, especially not before a match.

You arrived at London Colney for a final pre-match meeting to go over the tactics. Usually, once you arrived you mingled with your teammates, but now you stuck to Leah's side like a lost puppy. Arsenal had taken you in as a part of their own right from the start, you loved the family vibe the team had, and often found yourself amongst the jokers in the group. Today however when a hyper looking Kyra and Beth made their way over, you didn't budge when they tried to pull you away. “What’s up with you, party pooper?” Beth asks with a furrowed brow. “Ale broke up with me, are you happy now?” You snapped at the striker, loud enough for the rest of the team to hear. With widened eyes you apologise to Beth, before you walk out of the room, not being able to handle all your teammates staring at you with pity. Beth wanted to follow you to apologise, but Leah stopped her. “It’s okay, just let her be for a moment.”

After a few minutes you entered the room again, so the meeting could start. “I’m sorry.” Beth whispers, as you sit down next to her. You lean your head on her shoulder, “No, I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arm around you for the duration of the meeting, hoping to offer some comfort.

On the bus towards the stadium you were playing at today you sat by yourself in the front row, while the rest of the team sat together in the back, still needing a bit of space. Once the bus started driving, Leah walked up to the front. “I’m fine, Lee.” You said before even letting her say anything. “I know you are, just thought you would like these for the drive.” She handed you her headphones and her phone. “Thank you.” You appreciated her and her thoughtfulness, having her phone to play music would mean no messages from Alexia popping up.

Your anger towards Alexia showed in your playing style that match, you were more aggressive, and sliding in any time you could. At one point Leah had to tell you to take it easy, but you managed to get away without any cards, and the team won the match.

The next few weeks you had to get over Alexia. You didn’t want to live in the bubble of sadness that the breakup had created around you. It helped not being in the same country as her, not being able to just walk into her, and also your surroundings not having her written all over them. You spend a lot of your time with your Arsenal teammates, weekly bonding nights with the whole team, and random outings with one group or another. 

When international break was around the corner, you felt confident in saying you were mostly over Alexia. Sure, some things still hurt you, but in your mind you could still be affected by something even though you were over your ex.

Laia was sitting next to you at the airport gate when the rooming schedule was shared in the group, you scanned for your name, and realised they had kept you with Alexia just like last camp. Laia must’ve seen it too, because without having to mention anything, she told you she would get it sorted. She got her roommate to switch with you, so you would room with Laia for this camp.

When you arrived at the Spanish training grounds, you were happy to see your teammates again, but seeing Alexia amongst them was definitely a mood crusher. You tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, and just ignore and avoid her, so you would be able to enjoy the time with your friends. You were mostly able to do that, for about an hour. That is when Alexia came knocking on your door. Laia is the one to open, “Hey, is y/n here?” You didn’t want to put Laia in the middle of your issues with Alexia, so you walked to the door. “What do you want?” Her eyes diverted to the ground, “Can we talk for a moment?” You didn’t want to talk, but knew that it was probably for the best, if you were going to be at the same location for the upcoming two weeks, as well as playing together. So, you close the door behind you and follow her to an empty room in the building. 

It stayed silent for a few minutes, long awkward minutes in your experience, but you weren’t going to start whatever conversation Alexia wanted to have. So, you waited for Alexia to speak up while inspecting every uninteresting thing in the room. “Y/n, I really messed up. I miss you, I should have never broken up with you. I should’ve fought for us, I wish I fought for us. Can I still fight for us?” You couldn’t believe what she was saying. “You really hurt me, Alexia. I don’t think you understand how much pain you’ve caused me.” Alexia steps towards you, “Trust me, I do understand. I’ve been miserable over this.” You take a step back right away, “If you understood, you wouldn’t be asking me for a second chance. I can never trust you the way I did before. You didn’t fight for us when you needed to. We are over Ale, there no longer is an us to fight for.” And with that you left the room. 

The week of training before the two friendlies you would play went by fast. You avoided Alexia as much as possible, but during training exercises you set aside your differences because football was a team effort, and you didn’t want your personal situation to affect the team’s results.

Your first friendly against Italy went down without a hitch, earning a final score of 4-1. You were however looking forward to your second friendly against England more. Not only playing against your Arsenal teammates Leah, Beth, Alessia, and Lotte, but also seeing them again. It hadn’t been that long ago of course, but since you were so close with the team, you were missing them dearly.

After a 2-2 draw you walked around the field shaking hands with the Lionesses, and found Leah on the field who you brought in for a hug. She kissed your cheek before Beth came flying in with a hug, but the moment wasn’t missed by Alexia who had been watching the interaction from the dugout. You had told her the two of you were over, but that interaction finalised it for her. You really weren’t hers anymore.

-----

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[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Kinktober day 3 | Ethan Landry x camgirl!Reader

Kinktober day 3: sextape (?)

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+, fingering (f receiving), cum tasting,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’I’m not shy…okay maybe I am a little, but I just really don’t want anyone to recognize me. What if one of my professors sees me? That would be mortifying. I would have to change college and—’’ 

‘’Why would any of your professors watch my live?’’ you interrupted with disgust. 

There was a high chance that people you’ve crossed in the subway — or even at school — had seen your ass online, but you didn’t like to think about that. 

Ethan shrugged. ‘’A lot of people watch your live. You never know.’’ His eyes widened, another realization hitting him. ‘’Oh god, what if my dad watches? I’m gonna throw up.’’

‘’Make it two.’’ 

The thought of your boyfriend’s dad sitting behind his computer and jerking off to one of your lives was making you sick to your stomach. A few months ago, Ethan’s brother subscribed to your Only Fans and you had been so quick to block him. 

‘’Maybe we can figure out a way to hide your face? I could’ve blurred it if it had been a video, but you can’t do that on live…’’ 

Although you really wanted him to get on the live with you, you respected Ethan’s decision to not show his face on camera. Not everyone was comfortable to be seen that way online, and it was okay. 

‘’I have an idea!’’ 

You fished around your closet to find the Halloween mask you were looking for. You had used it last Halloween for some pictures and never wore it again. It should be somewhere with the bunny ears and matching tail.

‘’How do I look?’’ Ethan asked, his face covered by a Stab mask. 

You wouldn’t say psychopaths and killers were a turn on. You wouldn’t want Michael Myers to stick it in you, but you wouldn’t mind Billy Loomis or J.D. from Heathers railing you with their hand around your neck. 

‘’Fucking hot,’’ you replied bluntly, feeling an ache between your legs. 

Once your set up was angled to see a wider angle, you changed into a cute lingerie set and sat in front of the webcam, ready to start your live. There were already people in the chat waiting for you to log in, impatient to see the ‘surprise’ you told them about. They probably think it’s a new toy or that you’re gonna open up one-on-one videos again. 

The chat greeted you excitedly the moment you appeared on the screen, complimenting you on the baby blue bra and panty. It was Ethan’s favorite, so you wore it to get him more comfortable on camera. There were little frills on the shoulders of the bra and the sides of the panties, giving it a more juvenile and girly look. 

You were sitting cross legged on your bed while Ethan stood in the corner of your room, offscreen. ‘’Hi, everyone.’’ You smiled, waving at the camera. ‘’There’s so many of you today,’’ you said with amazement, seeing the viewers count go up every two seconds. ‘’Which is a good thing because I have a surprise for you.’’ You motionned for Ethan to come and he put on his ghostface mask, hiding his identity, and joined you on the bed, already shirtless. ‘’He’s a bit camera shy, so don’t be mean to him.’’ 

You kissed Ethan’s shoulder and the chat went wild with requests and tips for you and Ethan to do specific things. Some wanted you to choke on his cock or rail you until there’s tears running down your face, and there were also weird ones who were asking Ethan to sucking your toes. You held back a grimace. 

‘’Say ‘hi’ to our viewers, babe,’’ you told Ethan. 

‘’H-hi.’’ He tried his best to maintain composure, but his nervousness was evident in the way his voice trembled as he greeted the viewers.  

‘’My boyfriend said I’ve been bratty today,’’ you said to your viewers, running your hands over your thighs to make the tips increase. 

Ehtan sat still beside you, watching as you continued to interact with your viewers. He read through the requests as they poured in, his eyes widening behind the mask when coming across very explicit demands. 

‘’He said I needed to be punished for it. Do you think he is right?’’ 

On the screen, the chat exploded with enthusiastic responses, emojis, and various explicit comments. It seemed like your viewers were eager to see how this scenario would unfold. 

Big-cock001: Tie her up and don’t let her cum. Naughty girls don’t get to cum😈

cumfordaddy: Destroy her pussy until she cries and begs

‘’I think,’’ Ethan started, his voice, though still shaky, gaining a hint of confidence while he ran his finger along your jawline and down your neck. ‘’That you should get punished.’’ His hand went further down, following an invisible line down your breasts and stopping at the thin band of your panties. ‘’But first, brats don’t get to wear panties. Brats keep their pretty pussies free and open for business.’’ With a swift motion, Ethan pulled your panties down in one smooth tug, exposing your bare mound to the camera. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips as he pushed you down onto the mattress. You weren't entirely sure where he was going with this, but the continuous ‘ding’ of tips flooding in was a clear indication that your viewers were thoroughly enjoying the show.

Ethan finished taking off your panties and tied them around his wrist like a bracelet. ‘’Now, show me that pretty pussy,’’ he instructed, parting your legs gently, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs as he did so. 

You looked up at Ethan, figuring where his eyes were through the mask, and grinned, feeling a wave of excitement wash over you. ‘’Is my pussy pretty enough for you, Mr. Ghostface?’’ you cooed playfully, flashing your best doe eyes.

Blood rushed down Ethan’s dick immediately, turned on by your words. He reached down to palm it through his boxers, barely concealed beneath the gray garment, and groaned as he felt himself throb with need. He wanted to tear the mask off and get his mouth on you, but that would reveal his identity. 

So he settled for spreading your folds with gentle precision, watching you glisten with arousal. ‘’So fucking pretty,’’ Ethan confirmed. He collected some of your arousal on his finger and brought it to your lips, waiting for you to taste yourself. 

The chat was blowing up on your laptop, more tips incoming. 

You hummed explicitly around his finger, making a show. 

Ethan's eyes darkened with desire as he watched you taste your own arousal. If possible, he got even harder. 

You reached between your legs to do the same, to make him taste you, but before you could reach low enough, Ethan grabbed your wrist and held it above your head. ‘’No touching. Just me’’

—

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[wjehfshs]

Hope you are having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request tf 141 boy x male reader who had went missing after recklessly sacrificing themself to make sure the team got out safe either with hostages or information your choice. At the time Ghost and Reader were in a relationship, but with reader going missing getting suck in enemy hands for 3-5 years (your choice) they think he's dead.

What happeneds when they hear about someone killing off enemy forces and possibly having Intel the team needs? What is it turns out to be their missing comrade? Reader's unrecognizable from the scar cover half his face, a missing eye, his vocal cords damaged so his voice sounds different (if you're ok with it maybe a cybernetic arm?) Who would put the dots together first? Maybe reader stayed away knowing they would be hunted and didn't want the people they cared about to get hurt?? Specially Ghost!

Thank you for the request! This is actually a great idea

Reader being reckless and self sacrificial, Ghost X Reader (romantic) reader being kidnapped, reader being tortured, reader having scars and missing limbs (replaced with a prosthetic arm) male reader, mentions of violence. Drug mention once, Ghost being depressed and somewhat having no will to live ☹️

Gore mentions

4 years ago, on a mission, you where being reckless, little care for your own safety, you where trying to get information from the other side about where they had illegal drugs stored, you where killings people left and right, not caring if you where sneaky or not

Unfortunately due to your recklessness you had gotten caught and thrown into a helicopter on the rooftop

Simon saw this and he tried to chase after you but someone attacked him before he could get to you, and everyone else was too far away

They tried tracking the helicopter but it was stolen and they left it in the middle of nowhere and probably took a plane back to base

For months Simon was stressed, they tried so many times to get you back

They just couldn’t find you

After 7 months Soap finally told Ghost it was probably too late

He didn’t wasn’t to believe it but there was nothing else he could do

For the next 9 months he was self isolating, rarely ate, obviously depressed

The others sometimes even heard him crying in his room

They tried to console him but it just didn’t work

They noticed he was also more violent on the battlefield

You where all he had, of course he loves his friends but you where the love of his life, the only one who he felt safe letting hold him

Everyone else he flinched away from but you, he felt warm in your grasp

That’s why he grieved for so long, he lost his only will to live

After more time passed he finally came to accept it, of course he still loved you but he knew he would never see you again

One day, they heard from Laswell that someone had attacked the opposing side, killing them in mass numbers.

Simon immediately knew something was up, he could just feel it in his gut

They had been sent off to the base to see what was going on

When they got there it hit them how many people actually got killed

“Bloody fuckin’ hell” Simon commented

“Out of all my years in the military, this is probably the worst case I’ve seen” Price mentioned

The base that they where at also manufactured high tech material such as guns and… prosthetic limbs. They noticed one of the rooms holding fake, robotic arms had been broken into, one arm being ripped out from its holding spot

They walked around a bit before they heard a crash

“Sh, there could still be someone here” Price whispered before he snuck towards the sound

When he saw a figure rummaging through the canned rations, he raised his gun, seeing that he was unarmed

“Put your hands in the air!” He shouted, the figure turned around, face scarred and torn, the back row of his teeth showing on one side, and, a cyber arm

They knew this was the guy who broke into the room

The room was dark so immediately Gaz turned the lights on to get a better look at the man

As soon as the lights buzzed on and the white light filled the room, Simons heart jumped, he felt like he was going to faint

It was you, the love of his life

The way he knew? The giant scar under your eye on the right (your left) side of your face

He dropped his gun and stepped closer

The others, after some time, came to the realisation that it was their missing teammate from 4 years ago

Simon ran up to you, engulfing you in a suffocating hug

He kept muttering your name over and over again, tears in his eyes as he was rocking you back and fourth

“I miss you so much, you don’t even know, I’ve grieved over you for so long, life has been so empty without you” he kept going on about how much he loves you and missed you

The others also put their weapons away and ran up to you

Simon let you go for a little bit to let the other’s suffocate you in their one big group hug

They had never seen Simon so soft and loving towards someone, it was almost a shock, for the past 4 years, even before you went missing, he was cold and almost empty

Simon cupped your face and traced his fingers over your scars he had never seen before

He was just so overwhelmed he let his tears spill as did you, he took off his mask and pulled you into a loving kiss, he felt like he was dreaming

After he finally pulled away to let you breathe, his eyes trailed down to your robot arm and brought your hand up to his chest

Even if you where missing a nose and had horrible scars, exposing the inside of your mouth, he loved you just as much

He felt like his heart was full again

After they finally got back to base you explained what happened during the past 4 years

After the other side took you to their base, they tortured you everyday, they forced you to work for them in their factory

During a freak accident while you where working, your arm was torn off

Later on after the accident you tried to escape but they set off a grenade close enough to you to do damage, but not kill you, resulting in the tissue of your face coming off

The other scars where from years of torture

You had finally managed to get a hold of some explosives and a gun with some ammo and had gone on a killing spree, grabbing a cyber arm from one of their rooms, and dashing from room to room to hide

You had finally learnt from your lesson all those years ago, you finally learnt to be sneaky and not just go for the kill when you wanted

That night after you said your good nights to everyone else, Simon led you to his room and pulled you to his bed

His grip on you never let up through the whole night

He was so unbelievably happy to have you back in his arms

Even while you where asleep he stared at you lovingly, tracing your face and leaving feather kisses all over

He couldn’t stop himself from crying himself to sleep (from happy tears ofc)

[manofbeskar]

i’m so obsessed with mishanks because they’re so opposite and will fight and divorce, but there’s nobody they know better than each other. they are yin and yang. they share a birthday. shanks is probably the only person who can convince mihawk to party spontaneously because he knows shanks enjoys it. mihawk is probably the only person shanks would set aside his pacifism for to fight because he knows mihawk enjoys it. red hair and black hair, black coats and capes that are red inside.

i’m also obsessed with how mihawk, someone so isolationist and cold, loves shanks. if he sees shanks on the opposite side of a war, he is no longer in that war. in fact, the rest of you should quit, too. i don’t remember the face of every insect i crush, but i remember the name of the little boy he told me about once a decade ago. he’s a pacifist but i make the trip to duel him every single day because i know he’ll humour me. i don’t try to lay a mark on him because i want to come back tomorrow—he doesn’t try to lay a mark on me because he wants me to come back tomorrow. i will cross the grand line with a poster of this kid if it will make him smile. yes, he would have seen this anyway, but i want to see him smile. in fact, i’ll just keep staying out of this kid’s way because that’s what shanks wants. i have been looking for someone who excites me more than him, and i have failed. there is nobody who excites me more than him. i have his vivre card so i always know where to find him; he will welcome me if i arrive; he will invite me to drink horrible ale from his cup and i will accept because he likes ale and it tastes like him; if i am ever without a home, i tear a corner of his vivre card and know that home is there.

don’t even fucking talk to me about the way shanks loves mihawk. openly passionate and unashamedly loving shanks. yes i know mihawk is not that kind of guy and that’s ok. i can be affectionate for the both of us. if he ever decides he doesn’t want to be alone, i will be there with a shitty drink. it’s not red wine but i know he’ll drink it anyway because it’s my cup. i hate fighting but if he enjoys it, then i’ll entertain him. at least i get to spend time with him every day. i think i’ve told him everything about myself by now; he still remembers the name of that kid i saved a decade ago; he remembers which of my hands was my dominant one; he remembers all my favourite spots. i gave him my vivre card because i know he’d never use it to harm me; i know if he arrives that our fight will be fun; i know if he arrives that he is looking for me. if he is looking for me, i will welcome him home. is he a moody guy who could lighten up every once in a while? sure. i’d love to see him smile more; i know he likes seeing me smile—he came all this way to bring me the poster of a boy i mentioned to him once a decade ago. he is cold and i know he loves me, because we’ve been divorced and he crossed the grand line to see me because he saw my hat. he doesn’t need to tell me he loves me because he wouldn’t make all that effort for a poster if he didn’t.

mishanks is so!!! i think you’re the most insufferable person ever but you’re so fucking exciting. you’re nothing like me but there’s nobody i know better. i don’t understand you but i love the way you think. i hate this thing you did a week ago and i’m divorcing you for it, but if you showed up right now, i’d forgive you. it was stupid anyway. even if we’re fighting, please look for me if you need me. i’ll welcome you. it was stupid anyway. we can go a few months, even years, without meeting, but if i see something that reminds me of you, i have to come see you. i haven’t seen you in a year. i think about you on our birthday. there’s nobody i understand and misunderstand more. i wish you told me you loved me more often. i wish you gave me more space. we fought every single day but i had no desire to defeat you. i am happy to be your equal. it was stupid anyway. come home. i’ll be here.

[ao3commentoftheday]

This is my reluctant fandom rivalry story. It’s long. Please bear with me. 

A couple years ago I got into a major (read: very active) fandom. I wrote a few fics, then began what would become my longest WIP to date. That WIP generated a lot of interest, and as the smut escalated, I started getting more engagement with a fic than ever before – especially after posting a scene in which the characters finally hook up, in a very kinky and unexpected way. While working on this story I was following the work of other writers, and at one point a certain author who is pretty prolific and well-established in the fandom posted a finale to a work that they hadn’t updated in a long time. 

Seeing as how this work featured an uncommon ship dynamic for the pairing I write for – which my WIP also featured – I was interested to read this particular work. Then, when I got to their newly-added finale, I was astonished: it featured a scene that very closely paralleled the hook-up smut scene that I had just posted about a week or so prior, to a startling degree of similarity. So here were two characters in a very specific relationship dynamic—ages differing from canon—who were hooking up in the exact same way as my characters (also of this age/dynamic), down to the very same environment and scene context – the same uncommon blocking; same uncommon smut scenario – in a way that I’d thought was highly original when I wrote it (I haven’t seen anything like it before or since), and posted very close behind when mine was posted! The author even went out of their way to say that they’d actually written that scene “months ago,” and were only just getting around to finally posting it… /: *suspicious eyes*

You can see where I’m going with this. 

While not exactly plagiarism per se, that author received a tremendous amount of positive feedback from their many followers, while my chapter received a comparably modest response (though still very positive by my own standards, being so new to the fandom). I also worry that a good number of shared readers had encountered the other [popular] story, first, then caught up with mine after, only to wonder if I had copied the other author (unless they bothered to go into “chapter index” -> “full page index” to confirm publication dates, it would’ve looked like mine came after once I posted the next chapter). 

I decided not to confront them about it, though. There was no way I could prove that it wasn’t “parallel thinking,” even if it would make for a very odd coincidence. The wording was not the same, but it was structured very closely to what I’d written, including certain spicy details. I didn’t want to stir up drama in a new fandom, especially with such a popular author, lest I inadvertently alienate myself. 

But here’s the thing: I decided to just be flattered that my work had "inspired" theirs, and I tried to get past any lingering resentment by befriending them. Left kudos and the occasional nice comment on their work. Followed them on tumblr. Liked/RB’d their posts. But they steadfastly ignored me completely, for reasons I can only guess at. We have many common mutuals and they never like/reblog even my most popular posts (though these must cross their dash), though they will promote similar posts by anyone else. 

Over a year later, I’ve continued to follow this author’s work, keeping an eye out for other “coincidences” (though it’d be very ballsy of them to "borrow" from me again, since my work is more widely read now). Meanwhile, I have risen in popularity, myself, and while still not as popular as that author, I’m very proud of my own contributions to the fandom, and feel that my writing is a lot stronger than theirs. So I really shouldn’t let it get to me, but seeing them around all the time, being praised for their mid-level works and interacting with so many of my mutuals (while giving me the cold shoulder) still rankles me. Recently they even posted something about showing common courtesy by not stealing others' work in fandom, etc. that really rubbed me the wrong way. I stewed over it for way longer than is healthy. 

Any advice on how to navigate this one?

I want to enjoy my time in this fandom, but their ubiquitous, icy presence and my own lingering paranoia casts a pall over my experience.

This is one of those situations where you either need to confront them directly and let the chips fall where they may or you need to block them on every platform you share and pretend they don't exist.

You can't seem to get past what happened in the past, but you're also not talking it out with them. That means that you're stuck where you are until something changes. That thing is either messaging them directly or removing them from view.

Do not write a callout post. From what you've outlined here, you have a suspicion with no solid facts one way or the other. Writing a public post will just create fandom drama and having been tangentially involved in that before, do. not. recommend.

Personally, I think you need to evict them from your mind because they've been living there rent free for too long. But that's just my opinion. What do the rest of you think?

You can also find this ask mirrored over on Dreamwidth.

[111gloomtime]

math class

⭐️: fluff, matt x reader

cw: kissing

a/n: this story is actually based on true events that have happened in my life that i’m still giggling and kicking my feet over 🤭 anyways enjoy

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— hey, wanna come over today?

sure! be there in 10 —

these are the text messages that have lead to me to where i am now. aka, sitting in my car in matt’s driveway, regretting every decision i have ever made.

matt sits in front of me in math class, and ever since about 4 months ago i’ve had a major crush on him. it started off as a small crush, so basically just me discreetly staring at him in class and getting butterflies whenever we made eye contact. but one conversation led to another, phone numbers got exchanged, and now i’m at his house.

most people would be ecstatic to be in my position; sitting in their crush’s driveway, waiting to go in and hang out with them. its not that i don’t like matt, its actually quite the opposite. i like him so much im scared i’ll fuck it up in there. or what if he invited me over to tell me he doesn’t feel the same? i’ve never been over to a boys house, if you can’t tell.

after practically shitting myself i decide i should just go in. i shove my phone in my pocket and get out of my car. i walk up to his door, making sure i don’t step in any puddles. rainy boston weather is hell.

once i reach the door i knock on it 3 times. i hear some faint voices behind the door, then it swings open. but its not matt who answers the door. he told me he had 2 brothers, chris and nick. i had only seen them in pictures, but i think this one is chris. the boy stares at me for a moment.

“MAATTT!! your girlfriends here!” he yells out behind him with a giggle. had matt told them i’m his girlfriend? my cheeks go red and i try to shake the thought. matt suddenly emerges from a separate room and smiles when he sees me.

“ignore chris, hes a dumbass.”

“kid i’m standing right here”

“i know” matt says as we both give each other a look and giggle. he nods his head to indicate i can come inside, so i promptly step in as chris closes the door behind me. suddenly i see a woman come in through the hallway from the kitchen.

“oh you must be y/n! i’m marylou, matt’s mother.” she says as she gives me a hug. i smile and hug her back.

“it’s so nice to finally meet you! matt never shuts up about you, you know.” she says with a sly smile. i don’t know what to say back so i just laugh.

“mom..” matt says as he puts his face in his hands.

“it’s nice to meet you too!” i say cheerfully.

“okay i’ll leave you two alone, but remember matt; keep the door open. i’m not ready for any grandkids yet.” marylou says. my face goes red and so does matt’s.

“oh my god mom we’re not doing that.” matt says, embarrassed.

“alright well just in case.” she says as she turns around and walks away.

“do you wanna go upstairs?” matt says. i nod and he shows me the way to the stairs. as we’re walking through the hallway, i see a room illuminated with pink led lights. i peer inside and see another boy. matt catches up with me and also looks inside.

“that’s nick, my other brother.” matt says to me.

“hey girl!” nick says to me.

“hiii nice to meet you! i’m y/n” i say back.

“oh trust me, i know who you are.” nick says as he gives matt a look.

“i hate this family.” matt says sarcastically, which makes me laugh.

it seems like matt talks about me a lot to his family, which is shocking because he seems like he keeps his love life very private. that could be a good thing or a bad thing. either way, i love the fact he’s close with his family. once we make it to his room i sit down on the side of the bed and he sits down on the other.

“wanna watch a movie?” he says as he picks up the tv remote.

“sure!” i say. matt moves himself so he’s sitting against the headboard of his bed, and i do the same. my heart is beating at a concerning rate. i can practically feel matt’s body heat, i’ve never been this close to him before. he starts scrolling through movies on netflix, but i can’t pay attention to the tv right now.

“is this one good?” he asks. not gonna lie i have no idea what movie he just picked out, but i’m gonna go with it because i won’t be paying attention anyways.

“yeah” i say. i look down and see something poking out from under his pillow. i pull it out and see that it’s a small pug stuffed animal.

“oh my god. is this yours?!” i say with a smile on my face. matt sleeps with stuffed animals?!!! i might pass out from how attracted to him i am right now.

“you weren’t supposed to find that..” he says as he smiles and buries his face into his hands. “his name is mr wrinkleton.”

“that is the cutest thing ever.” i say. he tries to grab the toy back.

“hey!” i say, reaching over him to grab it back. we both start laughing and he holds it over his head, causing me to try and reach up for it. finally, i grab it from him.

“YES! i win!” i say in a teasing voice. we’re both laughing so hard that i don’t even realize the position im in. i’m straddling him. once we both stop laughing and realize what’s happening, we both just stare at each other. my heart starts beating even faster when i realize what’s about to happen. we’re gonna kiss.

i put my hands on his chest, looking down at his lips then up at his eyes again. i can feel his heart racing too, he’s just as nervous as i am.

i put my face down to his and place a soft kiss on his lips. matt puts his hands on the back of my heads and pulls me in for another kiss, this one is deeper. he snakes his hands down to my waist and keeps kissing me. surprisingly, i’m not as nervous as i thought i’d be right now. usually when i kiss a guy i’m scared out of my mind, but this feels… natural. everything about matt feels familiar and comforting to me.

once the kiss breaks i lift my head back up and look down at him. he’s smiling, his lips plump and pink and his hair slightly messy.

“i have something to tell you. i really like you.” i say.

“yeah i caught onto that.” he says with a chuckle, and he pulls me in for another light kiss. after this once i get off his lap and snuggle up beside him, looking at the tv.

“i think we should hang out more often.” i say jokingly.

“me too.” he says. he puts his arm around me and lays his head on mine and i snuggle closer.

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this is low key bad but i got lazy

[leilakisakabiri]

Haunted House (Gavi)

Summary: You’re Gavi’s hometown friend and connect after months apart. One thing leads to another and soon you’re acting a little too friendly in a haunted house. 

Warning(s): None 

A/N: Surprise it’s me! I’ve missed you guys so much. Here’s a draft I had from a while ago. I heard there was a little Gavi drought so I’m here to provide. Also working on new stuff right now. Getting to requests soon!

Word Count: 2k+

Masterlist

“Oh my god, you’ve grown so much!” You exclaimed, hugging Gavi as you got off the train.

“Shut up Y/n. You saw me last summer.”

“No seriously. Last time you were down here.” You retorted, moving your hand down near your shoulder to show how short he once was.

He let out a dry laugh, “Haha. Well, I’m still taller than you.”

“By an inch. And I’m a girl!”

“Wow I thought you were all about feminism Y/n wha-,”

You hit his shoulder in annoyance, cutting him off, “Not like that! I mean I’m on the taller side for girls, and you’re on the..” you trailed off a smile taking over your face as you saw him give you the dirtiest side-eye.

It was October in Barcelona and Autumn was in full swing. The wind wrapped around the both of you as you walked, the leaves falling encompassing the city in shades of orange and brown. The air was crisp, and the smell of hazelnut and toffee wafted through the air from various street vendors.

You finally approached your destination and you let out a squeal seeing how massive it was, “Holy shit I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger haunted house!”

You felt Gavi stiffen beside you, “Yeah it looked a lot smaller in the photos.”

You turned to look at him, eyes gleaming, “Oh c’mon tell me you’re not scared.”

“Pfft. What no way!”

You narrowed your eyes at him but let it slide. 

“Let’s go.” You said grabbing his wrist and pulling him along with you.

Once you had made it through the queue and got your tickets, the reality of the situation began to set it in.

The two of you were at Barcelona’s scariest and most famous haunted house. In years past attendees had fled the property saying they were too shocked and mentally scarred to recall what they saw. People had speculated for years that those customers had been paid off, and you believed it, now, however, standing in front of the gloomy house you were beginning to realize there could have been some truth to the story after all.

You were always a big fan of anything scary – after all Halloween was your favorite holiday for a reason. You were known in your friend group as the only one that would willingly watch horror movies, and play ‘supernatural’ games, always interested in the slightly darker things in life. However, even you, who could handle all of that, were a wee bit scared of the haunted house in front of you.

It was one thing to watch movies where you could predict what was going to happen, and yell at the main character through the screen, but to actually live through it, where someone could jump out at you around every turn was a little unnerving.

Especially since you were going with Gavi, someone who was notoriously known for avoiding those types of things at all costs. The only reason Gavi had agreed to come with you was because he had been asking you to come to Barcelona for weeks and this was the only way you would make the trip up. A compromise you could say. But now even you were wishing you took up Gavi’s offer to go to the aquarium instead.

The worker operating the front of the house called you over, pulling you from your thoughts.

“2?” He asked.

You both nodded, and he opened the door allowing you to enter.

You were greeted with a vast entry room with ceilings extending about 30 feet up and walls covered in cobwebs. The only light source was a barely there candlelight flickering in and out.

The monitor in front of you started playing. It explained the rules of the haunted house, and you felt yourself become more nervous once they started talking about the former customers they had tormented hard enough into leaving.

Suddenly the monitor cut off, leaving only the candlelight as a light source. You both watched as a new door creaked open.

You felt your palms begin to sweat.

You both stood rooted in place.

“Gavi,” You finally spoke, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m kind of scared.”

Gavi whipped his head to look at you, panic already visible in his eyes, “Wait what?! Don’t say that Y/n, I’m already scared! You said you liked haunted houses!” He exclaimed.

You pursed your lips, “I usually do, but I feel on edge.”

The candlelight flickered off, leaving the two of you in complete darkness aside from the green glow of the open door.

“Oh shit Y/n I knew this was a bad idea. Fuck, what do we-?”

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before a man with a chainsaw and a painted clown face jumped at him, sending the boy into overdrive.

He screamed, hands scrambling to grab your body as he rushed forward into the green glow, desperate to escape the killer clown.

Gavi’s scream set you into a fit of laughter, and you let yourself be tugged by him, too weak from laughing to stop him.

“Joder I swear I just went into cardiac arrest.” He said letting go of you and catching his breath.

You contained your laughter, only a few giggles escaping, beginning to feel at ease again now that the haunted house had officially begun.

“At least the first scare out of the way! The first one is always the scariest!” You said brightly walking forward, further into the house.

You felt him mutter something behind you, probably about how you were such a good friend for caring so much about him, but you didn’t give it a second thought too engrossed in the house.

You continued walking as random creatures jumped out of broken windows and walls trying to grab you, but you were quick to sidestep them. You noticed Gavi walking extremely close behind you to the point where you were sure that if you let your foot rest for a second longer on the ground he would step on it.

You finally stopped when you could feel him breathing down your neck, the little puffs of warm air sending tingles down your spine. 

“Y/n don’t make fun of me but I’m kinda scared.”

You just stared at him.

“Ok maybe really scared. This isn’t good for me you know, I have training I can’t be getting my blood pressure up like this.” He persisted.

You groaned, “Oh my god – fine just hold my hand.” You tried to remain annoyed but you couldn’t stop the flutter in your stomach when his warm hand enveloped yours.

You stared at each other and you debated saying something before the moment was cut short by Gavi’s shrill scream, having gotten scared by an actor that jumped out of the wall.

You pulled him along with you as you entered a vortex tunnel with a faulty bridge.

“Nope. No way, I’m going to have an aneurysm.” Gavi spoke once seeing the path, trying to pull his hand away but you held on tighter.

“There’s only one way to go. Just close your eyes and give me your other hand.” You argued.

He groaned but did as he was told, “I hate you.” He muttered as you moved to grab his other hand and put both over your shoulders standing in front of him.

“Oh please you love me.” You smirked, starting to make your way through the tunnel.

He didn’t answer but you felt his grip on your hands tighten and you smiled softly.

You were almost done with the tunnel when you abruptly stopped causing Gavi to run into you.

“Why are we stopping?” He asked.

You bit your lip, not wanting to admit the truth.

“What? Is it that scary?” He questioned opening his eyes.

“I don’t see anything?”

“There’s a bird.” You whispered, eyes never leaving the small bird flying manically around the hallway, seemingly trying to find its way out after getting trapped.

“Y/n Don’t tell me you’re still afraid of birds.” Gavi shook his head smiling.

You sneered, “Of course I am. Those things are demonic.”

He rolled his eyes at your antics.

You had been terrified of birds since the day you were born, anything that could fly, peck, and chase you scared the shit out of you. And now the fact that a bird was flying around frantically, in an enclosed space, that you had to walk through- oh shit, you were going to die here because there was no way you were walking past that bird on your own free will.

“Please keep moving.” An operator’s voice sounded.

You groaned, putting your head in your hands as you decided what to do.

“Y/n we have to go.” Gavi urged, attempting to move you forward but you stood still.

“Just give me a second.”

“Here I’ll hold you, ok? That way the bird can’t get to your eyes. Only mine.” Gavi spoke.

You laughed at his weak excuse for a joke, weighing your options, “Fine but if that thing even touches me I’m shoving you into it and running.”

Gavi smiled down at you as he wrapped an arm around you, “Oh Y/n what a sweetheart you are.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before curling into him, snuggling your face into the side of his sweater, and squeezing your eyes shut so the bird couldn’t claw them out.

He wrapped both arms around you, shielding your head and shoulders from the bird.

You felt the birds squawking get closer and pulled him even closer, “I got you linda relax.”

His voice was soft in your ear, and you focused your attention on him and the beating of his heart rather than the manic bird two inches away.

Once the threat had been cleared you lifted your head in disbelief, “You’re alive! I can’t believe it, I thought for sure the bird would have had one of your eyes at least.”

He gasped at you, his arms loosening around you, as he dropped one, the other sliding to rest on your waist, “Oh please. It wasn’t even bad, poor birdie just couldn’t find the exit.”

“Yeah poor birdie.” You muttered sarcastically.

The rest of the haunted house passed uneventfully, and thankfully there were no more jump scares, saving Gavi from the cardiac arrest he claimed would be happening any day now.

Gavi’s hand stayed around your waist for the remainder of the house and while you could lie and say it was because he was still scared, you knew that the way he was holding you and the way you were leaning into him was a little too friendly to just be because of ‘nerves’.

Once you got to the outside world again you moved away from him, your eyes adjusting to the light.

“Well, thanks for coming with me Gavi.” You said, feeling grateful that your blush had faded when you were still in the dark.

“Woah this again! What’s with Gavi?” He asked you, an irritated look on his face.

Your eyebrows rose in shock, “That’s your name?” You asked confused about why he seemed annoyed.

“No I’m Pablo.” He said referring to the name that nearly no one called him anymore.

“Pretty sure the whole country knows you as Gavi estupido.” You rolled your eyes, hand coming up to hit his head playfully.

Gavi grabbed your hand, squeezing it, “Yeah but to you, I’m Pablo, ok?” His voice was sincere, and his eyes were shiny and bright.

You gave him a puzzled look, but still squeezed back, “Ok.”

You went to drop your hands, but he caught you by surprise again, holding yours firmly, “I think I like this better. My hand’s a little cold. You know it being fall and all.”

You smiled biting the inside of your cheek to not give yourself away, stay cool Y/n! 

You nodded at him, “Oh for sure. Can’t have Barca’s golden boy falling sick.”

[elitadream]

Mario had been contemplating solutions in vain, sitting by himself forlornly after yet another grim and discouraging day of continuous failure when he registered the faint shuffling of timid steps nearby.

It was quite late and the man didn't exactly have the energy to feel surprised, but he curiously lifted his head nonetheless.

"Junior?" He wondered aloud, gazing worriedly at his provisory ally. "What's wrong?"

The young prince was rubbing his eyes, swaying idly on his feet and stubbornly staring at the ground. He didn't respond, but he didn't need to. His distress and need for company was plain to see.

Knowingly, Mario unfolded his legs and rested both hands on his knees, giving him a compassionate look.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

Junior shrugged before joining him and leaning against his side, eyes downcast. There was no trace of mischief or deception to his demeanor. Only a defeated sort of acceptance.

Mario couldn't help but feel a genuine twinge of amazement at the vulnerable gesture.

"I'm... really sorry about your dad," he ventured, not quite daring to move.

Junior blinked wearily, but showed no other sign of acknowledgement. There was a brief moment of silence until Mario felt compelled to look at him once more.

"I don't know how long this might take, but I promise you we will find a way to turn him back to normal. I will not give up on you, or him. You have my word," he assured gently.

Junior merely curled in on himself more tightly as a response, appearing impossibly small compared to the gigantic beast his father had somehow become. His brows were furrowed in an expression the plumber had never seen before. A deep sadness mixed with a touch of remorsefulness, or perhaps resentment.

Mario was about to ask if he had somehow said something he shouldn't when Junior finally spoke.

"My Papa is wrong about you," he muttered, very quietly.

Before Mario could so much as blink, the small Koopa went on, shaking his head with a sniffle.

"You're not a coward and you're not stupid. You work hard and you never complain. You just want to help everyone, all the time. Even us."

His words, albeit said reluctantly, were spoken with uncharacteristic sincerity. Mario couldn't find it in himself to smile, so he carefully wrapped an arm around the prince's shell instead, giving his shoulder a comforting pat.

"I don't mind the insults. Not really," he amended softly, hoping that he somehow sounded more confident than he felt. "I guess that's just the way Bowser perceives me. It's okay."

"No, it's not," the young heir retorted. "He's very unfair towards you. He said some really mean and hurtful things, and-"

Junior stopped himself with a small whine, pawing at his face again. He was still averting his gaze, but the fragile tone of his voice betrayed his guilt.

"...I said mean things, too. I'm sorry."

For a few seconds, Mario could only stare mutely back at him, stunned by the unexpected apology. He then shifted closer, bringing his arm more securely around the Koopa in a side hug.

"Everybody makes mistakes," he murmured. "But everybody can change."

"I wish that was also true for my Papa," Junior mumbled, dejectedly.

At this, Mario hummed wistfully, his answer long believed and thoroughly considered.

"Maybe... all he needs is a bit of help."

-

When I first heard of Bowser's Fury a few months ago, all I knew about the plot was that Junior goes to seek Mario's help in the hopes of stopping his father's rampage. And words couldn't describe how much I LOVED the idea. Although this is an older drawing and my look for Junior has since changed a bit (the same way I eventually altered Bowser's design), this was the concept that later inspired the way I've decided to approach Mario and Junior's relationship in a broader sense - which means that there'll definitely be more with these two. :3

Mario being enduringly kind and winning foes over with nothing but his goodness of heart never fails to give me feels, and I want more of that. 💖

[morganbritton132]

Wait wait wait, in light of the recent update, I gotta ask - has Eddie ever passed out while getting one of his tattoos? I'm kinda obsessed with the idea that he's well known in a few of the local parlors, having new ink done every few months, and he's this badass middle-aged rockstar with jagged scars and covered in demonic imagery but all the artist just know him as Ed The Fainter and always have a cool wet towel and a bottle of water waiting for him. I also like to imagine that those times when Steve's there waiting for him, he and the receptionist or whichever artist is on break at the moment get a bet going about how long it'll take for Eddie to pass out / how long he'll stay out.

If this doesn't line up with what you imagine for the emtts feel free to say so and I'll just grab my headcanon and shove it into a different au, but I wanted to share in case you found it as endearing as I do :D

I love Eddie being Just Some Guy at his local tattoo parlor.

Like, the older guys that would’ve seen him in his heyday are just so used to this dork that it doesn’t even faze them when world famous guitarist Eddie Munson walks in for a tat. The younger ones don’t recognize him even if they do listen to his music.

It’s only after he gets popular on Tiktok that those guys are like ‘wait a minute is The Fainter with the pre-school teacher husband famous?’

Eddie doesn’t faint all the time.

There’s no rhyme or reason to when he does. He doesn’t have a problem with needles or with blood (at least in the quantity that you’d get with a tattoo), but sometimes he’ll just be chilling out getting a tattoo and the whole world will dip out from under him. He’ll wake up a bit later, soaked in sweat and confused.

He thinks it’s a bit embarrassing, but Eddie’s always been able to laugh at himself and make other people laugh too. It’s a bit of a routine for him when he goes. The whole shop makes a big show of getting him some water and something to eat, and they ask if he wants to take a break a lot no matter what tattoo he’s getting or where it’s placed.

The first time Steve goes with him to get a tattoo, it’s specifically to make sure he doesn’t get ‘Steve’ tattooed on his ass after Eddie lost a bet with Lucas. Eddie getting a touch up to an old tattoo and zonks out halfway through. Steve goes into full panic mode so now the shop has protocols for Eddie and Steve.

Once Steve learns that this is just something that happens (“Like at the blood drive, Eddie!” “Don’t remind me of the blood drive.”), him and Eddie’s main tattoo artist, Meg, always make a bet on if he’s going to pass out or not. Steve is scary accurate at this game which is good because Meg says she’s going to get him in her chair when he loses.

Also, Eddie has a series of tally marks tattooed along the top of his worst demo-bat scar. He adds to it every year and when Steve asks about it, Eddie just say, “That’s the number of years that I’ve been the luckiest man alive.”

There are thirty-five tally marks. If you were to calculate how many years that Steve and Eddie have been together, you’d get – “Thirty-six.”

“What?”

“We started dating summer of ’86,” Steve says, “That is thirty-six years ago. Summer of this year will be thirty-seven.”

“Well, ’86 had a lot of ups and down. Wasn’t really my year, was it, Steve?”

[lolitakirstein]

Hey Neighbor Pt 9

Part 8

WC: ~1.5k

AN: I'm so worried about writing longer chapters in case they are too boring. but I hate splitting things up when I'm on a roll. ha

You watched as the man you had run into exited Toji’s house 30 minutes later. Unable to hear what the two were discussing you relied on their body language to give you some hint as to who he was. The men seemed formal towards each other yet relaxed; Toji with his hands in his pocket or across his chest, the other guy casually lighting a cigarette while showing his back to toji. There must be some level of trust between them, then. Before the man leaves, you notice him gesture towards your house. You draw back further from the window, afraid of being seen.

Once the car is out of sight and Toji returns to his house, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Should you ask Toji who he was or was that being too nosy? Not like i’ll get a straight answer, he refuses to tell me anything, you think, settling on being nonchalant about it.

Fortunately, you had work to keep you focused. And most fortunately, your hangover was minimal. Nothing more than a slight throb thanks to the pain meds Toji had offered you. You become robotic as you scan, sort, and shelve books and answer the same boring questions from customers. 

Before you can notice, it’s your lunch break. You sit in the small cafe that the bookstore offers, downing a hot chai latte and checking your phone. One message from the work group chat and one from Toji that was sent a few hours ago

Toji: You ok?

You fight back the urge to send, “I can’t tell you right now, it’s not the right time,” instead, pocketing your phone and playing hard to get. You clock back into work, ready to start the second half of your shift. 

 Wait, am I wanting him to chase me or something? This guy who knows things but won't tell me? Why am I trying to act like this is a dude i’ve swiped on Tindr? This guy has secrets, deep ones. Ones I probably don’t wanna know—

“Excuse me,” a soft voice snaps you out of your internal monologue. You spin around and are met with a man. His dark auburn hair is close-cropped at the sides while the top fashionably brushes just above his deep brown eyes. A soft shadow of stubble peppers his strong jaw. 

“Oh, hello. Can I help you?” you quickly revert to the robotic motions of a customer service provider.

“Yeah, I was looking for your classical section.”

“Are you looking for anything in particular,” you ask after leading him to the designated section of the store. 

“What would you recommend?” 

A question every worker hates. “Well, can never go wrong with Doestrevsky.” 

“Ah, yes, I read Crime and Punishment in school. Incredible prose,” he responds. 

Your heart lifts at finally being able to discuss books with someone. “Indeed, if you like that, you might like The Idiot. Same themes of human nature and society.” You grab a copy off the shelf and hand it to me. 

“Well I’d be an idiot if I didn’t take the advice of such a beautiful, well-read woman,” he says coyly as you walk to the counter.  You internally groan but also can’t help but blush at the compliment, though the joke was indeed awful.

“Let me know how you like it?” you say after ringing him up and bagging his purchase. 

“How about we discuss it over dinner sometime,” he cocks an auburn brown.

“Oh,” you stammer, thrown off by the sudden offer. It’d been so long since you’d been on a date you forgot what it was like to be asked out. “Sure!”

“Great I’ll keep you posted on my progress,” the man who you now know as Connor pockets his phone after you exchange numbers. “I look forward to discussing it with you and hearing your beautiful thoughts.”

Ok, he was laying it on a little thick but you don't mind. The only interaction you had had with a man for the past few months had been with Toji. And those interactions were hardly civil, much less flirty. Though Toji tended to tease, it was mostly to throw you off the topic of his secrets. 

The rest of your shift goes by quickly and you arrive home before the sun goes down. As you get out of your car, you notice Toji sitting on his porch steps. You try to ignore him but ignoring him is like trying to ignore a bear about to devour you. You give a wave, walking fast to your house. 

“You ok?” Toji asks, still sitting on the steps. Damn, he either can’t take a hint or is just stubborn. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you respond fumbling your keys out of your pocket. You drop them. Cursing yourself for being so easily intimidated by him you stoop to pick them up. Toji’s feet appear in your line of vision. You look up at the giant man standing over you. You want to feel afraid, but you can’t deny the absolute feral part of your brain at the sight of him standing over you. 

“Why didn’t you text me back?” the possessive tone didn’t help dampen the submissive part of your psyche. Damn, why do I have to be such a whore for crazy men?

“I was working,” you squeak out, picking your keys up and walking to your front steps. 

“I wanna talk,” Toji says behind you as you march up the steps and unlock your door. 

“It’s fine Toji. Nothing to talk about,” you turn around, Toji is standing at the bottom of your porch steps. 

“There is,” Toji huffs a breath. “A lot, actually.”

You were not in the mood for this. Your day ended on a good note and you intend for it to stay that way. “Look, whatever it is. I don’t care.”

“Yes you do,” Toji takes one step up. 

You shake your head, even though you were screaming yes in your head. You will not let him win. “Nah, I’m good. I really couldn't care less what your little secrets are. I don’t even know you.”

“It’s not that, it’s just—”

The notification on your phone interrupts the moment. You reach into your pocket for it and notice a text from Connor. 

Connor: I hope you had a good rest of your day. I must say, you made mine :) 

Oh, the cringe was off the charts with this guy. But you can’t keep the stupid smile from appearing on your face. Followed by a giggle. Shit I’m giggling over a guy. I need laid 

“Who’s that?” Toji asks sharply.

“No one,” you shake your head.

“No one huh,” Toji takes another step up, finally standing in front of you. “‘No one’ got you smiling like a goof?”

“You have your secrets, I have mine,” you shrug.  

“You don't blush like that for just no one,” Toji teases, he steps so close you can feel the heat off of him. “Now who could possibly be making sweet little y/n blush so much besides me?”

You crane your neck up to look at him, refusing to show he’s affecting you. “I can’t tell you. It’s not the right time.”

Finally, you manage to knock him off his game by throwing his words back at him. He steps back, putting some distance between you. A scowl wrinkles his brow and his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth. You smirk, pleased with yourself. “Good night toji.”

Toji

Toji stares at the door you slammed in his face, stricken dumb by the sass you dished out. He had expected this to be a moment of confession, finally getting it all out in the open. Now standing at your closed door, Toji has no choice but to retreat back home.

After dinner and tucking Megumi into bed, Toji collapses onto his king-size bed. He turns his head to the window, towards your house. The lamp on your bedside table creates a soft glow from your window. He watches as you enter the bedroom. Your eyes on your phone, smiling. 

Toji clenches his jaw. Here he was ready to start having an honest conversation with you, and you were too busy with this mysterious ‘no one.’ He hated being this way, but he couldn’t deny that he felt a sense of protectiveness over you. 

He watches you throw your phone on the bed, the giddy smile still on your lips—perfect lips, soft delicate lips he’s thought about kissing on multiple occasions. With your back to the window, you remove your shirt and toss it to the chair before you begin sliding your pants down. As much as Toji would love nothing more than to watch, he has enough decency to look away, he’s not THAT much of a pervert. 

He reaches into his back pocket, depositing the contents beside him. 

First is his cellphone which he text Shiu–I need to borrow a few of your tech geeks.

The second, is a sealed envelope. No address, no street names or numbers. Just 3 words written in delicate script:

il mio agnellino

[cheeandcha]

RED AS HIS HEART YANG JUNGWON

Summary: Jungwon, the owner of a flower shop, is deeply smitten with a regular customer who shows a profound appreciation for his flowers and stories, you. Over time, Jungwon grows fond of you, often reserving unique blooms for your visits. Just as he plans to confess his feelings, Jungwon discovers the truth.

Pairing: Florist!Jungwon X Female!Reader

Genre: Slight of fluff, angst

Warning: None

Word count: 1.807 words

For Jungwon, you’re not only a regular customer of his flower shop. You were actually his favorite customer. Hell, you’re even his favorite person. Ever since you came to his shop four months ago, he noticed a distinct change in his mood whenever you walked through the door. Your presence brought a warmth and brightness that lingered long after you left the shop. He was captivated by your appreciation for the intangibles of each flower and your genuine curiosity about his stories.

Jungwon began to look forward to your visit, not only as a means of conducting business but also as an opportunity to get closer to you. He started setting aside unique and rare flowers, saving them specifically for when you came in, knowing you would appreciate their beauty and symbolism. An unexpected yet cherished friendship was formed due to your shared passion for flowers.

With each interaction, he discovered your personality that drew him in further—your friendliness, your generosity, your admiration for the simple things in life, and the interest you showed in his work. Jungwon often found himself arranging flowers with you in mind, using his imagination to evoke a range of emotions every time you encountered one of his masterpieces. You were his muse.

Today, he was planning to confess his feelings to you, eagerly waiting for your arrival at his shop. Usually, you would arrive promptly at three o’clock. He was staring at the clock that was hanging on the wall, counting every second by second.

Three, two, one!

The sound of the bell ringing filled his ears as you opened the door. “Jungwon!” You greeted him with your usual smile and radiant energy, which always brightened his day. He waved his hand slightly. “Good afternoon, (Name)!” Jungwon responded, his voice carrying a hint of excitement he couldn’t hide.

You took a moment to breathe in the fragrant air, glancing around to admire the colorful array of blooms. “You always have such a captivating selection. Anything new today?” Jungwon chuckled softly. “I’ve got some new orchids. Thought you might appreciate their intricate patterns. How’s your day been going?” You pondered thoughtfully as you tilted your head. “Busy with college, but seeing these flowers and chatting with you makes it all better! Tell me more about those orchids, please,” you said.

Jungwon guided you to a corner filled with orchids in various hues with a gentle gesture. “These are special; their patterns almost tell a story. I remember you mentioning once how you loved flowers with a history.” Your eyes lit up with curiosity as you leaned in to examine them closer. “You remembered! You have a good memory, Jungwon.” Your compliment made him smile warmly; he felt a rush of warmth at your compliment. “Only because I have customers like you who appreciate the beauty and stories.”

“These orchids do have a certain allure,” you admitted, your fingers lightly grazing the petals. “But I’ve also been curious about those yellow roses by the window. They seem to shimmer differently.” You turned your head where the yellow roses were placed. Jungwon followed your gaze, a knowing smile forming on his lips. “Ah, you have a keen eye, those roses are a variety known for their unique shimmer. It’s said that they capture the sunlight in a way that few other flowers can.”

You were enchanted, stepping closer to get a better look. “It’s as if they hold a piece of the sun within them,” you murmured, hypnotized by their radiant glow. “They’re unlike any roses I’ve ever seen.” Jungwon nodded. He was pleased by your reaction to the flower. Your words, spoken softly in awe, seemed to echo the sentiments he himself felt every time he looked upon them. It was magical to see another person appreciate the intricate details and profound beauty of nature as much as he did.

“The yellow rose,” he paused momentarily, making you look at him. “is often associated with feelings of joy, friendship, and new beginnings. Its radiant coloration not only symbolizes happiness but also represents the warmth and positive energy one can bring into another’s life.” While he explained the meaning of the flower, your eyes were set on him, watching him closely as you slowly smiled.

“Furthermore,” Jungwon added with a soft smile, “yellow roses can also convey a sense of appreciation and platonic love. They’re a beautiful way to express gratitude or to simply brighten someone’s day with a gesture of kindness.” He seemed to speak with such depth and emotion, making the flowers come alive with stories and symbolism. Your eyes met his, a newfound understanding dawning. “It’s fascinating how a flower can hold so much meaning and emotion,” you mused, clearly touched by the sentiment behind the blooms.

“You truly have an exquisite collection.” His cheeks warmed at your praise as he looked away shyly. He scratched the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. “Thank you.” When Jungwon met your appreciative gaze once more, he felt a mixture of emotions swirling within him. Your genuine compliment wasn’t just about the flowers; it touched upon the passion, dedication, and countless hours he had poured into curating the perfect collection for his customers.

The slight warmth in his cheeks intensified, a rosy hue mirroring the petals surrounding you both. Jungwon's heart started to beat more noticeably in contrast to the shop's background noise, which was usually calm, due to the budding connection and depth of your interaction. He felt a wave of vulnerability under his skin as he realized how much he valued your opinion. It wasn’t every day that someone truly recognized and praised the nuances of his work, and coming from you, it held particular significance.

“Oh, by the way, Jungwon. Can I get the usual?” A smile tugged at the corners of Jungwon’s lips, a hint of warmth evident in his eyes. “Coming right up,” he replied, moving gracefully to a familiar section of the shop where he meticulously prepared your preferred arrangement. Tuberose is the flower you often bought, and Jungwon knew that you bought it for your grandmother. As he began gathering the blooms, his hands moved with practiced ease, selecting each flower with care and attention to detail.

“Jungwon,” you called him with your soft voice, walking closer towards the counter and resting your hands above it. “Do you have any red carnations?” A subtle intrigue flashed across Jungwon’s eyes at your request. He observed how your fingers lightly grazed the countertop and sensed a deeper sentiment behind your inquiry. “Yes, I do,” he replied, his tone imbued with curiosity. “Great! I want those red carnations too!” you requested, clapping your hands in delight.

“Of course,” he said, offering a warm yet probing smile. Jungwon carefully gathered a fresh bundle of red carnations, their vibrant petals capturing the essence of passion and emotion. As he placed them gently beside the other item you had selected, he asked, “Red carnations are quite meaningful. Is there a special occasion for these red carnations?” He was trying not to look too curious, but he really wanted to know. What occasion are these carnations for? Who are these red carnations for?

“It’s for a birthday surprise.” You touched the petals of its flower, feeling the soft and delicate texture on your fingers. “Today is my boyfriend's birthday.” He could almost feel his heart stopping. Did he just hear correctly? Jungwon froze in place, the weight of your words settling heavily upon him. A surreal silence seemed to envelop the shop, every sound muted as your statement resonated within him. His heart, which moments ago beat steadily, now echoed a different rhythm, one of disbelief and quiet sorrow.

“He said he loves red carnations, so I want to surprise him with it.” Jungwon forced a smile and met your eyes with a slight change of his expression, his eyes searching for any sign of humor, hoping you were joking. “That’s really thoughtful of you,” he said, but there was a hint of hurt in his voice. Inside, a wave of emotions overwhelmed him, but on the outside, he continued to be the same for all these months. “Red carnations for my loved ones.” You chuckled at your own words.

Jungwon felt his stomach sink as the realization hit him that you were actually being serious. The two of you had been friends for months, but he had always hoped your relationship was more than that. Each memory of shared laughter, every lingering conversation, and the countless moments of mutual understanding played back in his mind. He had often found himself lost in thoughts, imagining scenarios where your friendship blossomed into something deeper, something more meaningful.

So what would he do now? Should he keep confess how he really feels about you? Would it ruin the friendship between the two of you? He couldn't stand the thought of losing you, so what course of action should he take?

“How much is everything?” Jungwon snapped back to reality, cleared his throat, and started counting the prices. “It would be ₩105.” You gave him the precise amount of cash. He took the money from you, quickly placing it in the register.

Taking a deep breath, Jungwon straightened, attempting to push aside the sudden surge of emotions. “I hope he appreciates the gesture,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “Red carnations is a meaningful choice.” You couldn’t help but smile sweetly at him. “Thank you so much, Jungwon,” you said as you took the bouquets in your arms. “I’ll see you on Thursday, bye!”

You were unaware of the whirlwind of emotions you had stirred within him. Jungwon watched you leave the shop, silently grappling with the unspoken emotions that now lingered in the air. As the door’s soft chime faded, leaving behind a long silence, Jungwon felt a weight settle on his chest. The barrage of suppressed emotions, hopes, and regrets finally reached a breaking point. His eyes, once clear and welcoming, now glistened with unshed tears.

The bright array of flowers that surrounded him, usually a source of comfort, now faded into a kaleidoscope of memories. The once-soothing aroma of the flowers now seemed almost suffocating, each scent evoking a different memory or emotion that Jungwon had kept hidden. The delicate petals he always cherished now seemed to hold secrets and silent conversations, whispering stories of missed opportunities and silent wishes.

THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS

Red carnations contain several symbols: love, affection, and adoration.

The most common association with red carnations is love, especially deep love and affection. It can also be given as a romantic sign of love or to express strong feelings towards someone. Apart from romantic love, red carnations are also a symbol of admiration, making them an appropriate choice to pay homage to someone you deeply respect or admire.

© cheeandcha

[cmaidaartworkblog]

Some months ago, I created a series of maps and diagrams for @iguanodont​​‘s Birdbug worldbuilding project, representing the planet inhabited by their original species and its planetological data. This isn’t the first time I mapped out this planet, as I was also commissioned by Ripley back in 2020 back when I didn’t have nearly as much experience and knowledge as I do now. Two years later, I’ve been commissioned once again to revisit this world and its peculiarities.

This first map (in Equirectangular projection and poles-centered perspective) depicts the elevation for this planet, with a color gradient applied to the data.

Here is the same elevation data, presented without the color gradient.

This time, the elevation is presented with bodies of liquid water included, such as rivers, oceans, and lakes.

and in this one, the water is isolated from the other data, against a white background

Next, there are the surface temperatures that occur on this planet, the key to which is shown above. The four maps below show the seasonal temperatures for land and sea, in order of Northern Spring Equinox, Northern Summer Solstice, Northern Autumn Equinox, and Northern Winter Solstice.

Correlating closely to the above data is the snow and ice cover, which is fairly extensive on this planet owing to its high obliquity and distance from its star. Land ice only occurs where the snow falls and is compacted year-round, but snow and sea ice can be much more seasonal.

Seasonal precipitation levels were another important phase of this project, and the below diagram shows those levels for a given latitude (y-axis) on a given date (x-axis), with a key attached.

My reference for creating the above graphic is the figure below, which comes from a 2019 paper by A.H. Lobo and S. Bordoni titled “Atmospheric Dynamics of High Obliquity Planets”, and shows Earth’s precipitation levels compared to those of a planet with an 85° obliquity.

The following maps can now be better understood in light of these diagrams and keys.

-Northern Spring Equinox

-Northern Summer Solstice

-Northern Autumn Equinox

-Northern Winter Solstice

I was also tasked with mapping out the extent and density of this planet’s vegetation (or at least its alien equivalent), and from this you can see how wildly it varies by season, with very few year-round holdings. Precipitation is a major factor in where it is possible for plants to flourish, but snow cover and the extreme temperature swings limit it too. Near either pole, for example, within the space of a year temperatures soar far above Earth’s upper limits and also plummet below freezing; if either extreme were to be the annual norm for a region, some plants might adapt to those conditions, but because of the wild fluctuation any adaptations to one extreme would leave plants especially vulnerable to the other. These regions, then, remain barren regardless of rainfall or brief windows of mild temperatures, while areas with less wide temperature ranges allow for at least brief periods of flourishing.

Determining the surface temperatures for this planet required a lot of background work. The first piece of the puzzle for this was knowing the number of daily hours of sunlight for a given latitude and date, which is exemplified first in this diagram for Earth:

and then for the Birdbug planet, below. Since this planet rotates on an axis of 60 degrees, there are many more latitudes within range of either pole that experience periods of sunlight and darkness lasting longer than a day. The higher the latitude, the longer this period lasts, with the poles themselves experiencing either condition for half a year at a time.

Another important factor is the height to which the sun is seen to rise (more scientifically, the angle at which the sun’s light hits parts of the planet’s surface), seen here first for Earth and then for the Birdbug planet. In these diagrams, white represents the sun reaching the zenith of the sky (meeting the surface at a 90° angle), and black represents the sun failing to appear above the horizon (meeting at an angle of 0° or below), while shades of green and purple stand in for angles between those extremes. For Earth and the Birdbug planet alike, the sun reaches the zenith within the bounds of either planet’s Tropic circles of latitude, and fails to rise at all only within the Polar circles of latitude; the difference in obliquity means that the Birdbug planet’s key circles of latitude are flipped compared to Earth’s.

The duration of sunlight and the angle at which that sunlight is reaches the planet’s surface determine a planet’s Insolation, that is, the amount of solar energy it receives. The first image below is a preexisting diagram of Earth’s Insolation, where it is measured in watts per square meter. The next two images are my own attempts at replicating this data for Earth, and then for the Birdbug planet.

As seen in the diagrams above, Insolation on the Birdbug planet differs from Earth not only in its latitudinal distribution, but also in its sheer intensity at the higher latitudes. Compared to Earth there are twice as many latitudes for which the sun is shining longer than one rotational period, and many of those latitudes see the sun shine at a direct or nearly direct angle, whereas the Polar circles of latitude on Earth see the sun shine much more obliquely. Below, we can see the data that all the above figures were instrumental in finding: that is, surface temperatures. The first image is a preexisting figure that measures Earth’s mean surface temperatures by date and latitude, and below that is my attempt at replicating the data by my own process.

This is done not by just copying the seasonal Insolation data, but by also factoring in the yearly average for each latitude.

Above, we see the temperatures of the land by date and latitude, and below, we see the temperatures at the surface of the sea, which lag behind the land temperatures and remain comparatively mild.

Lastly, here’s an image I created to combine the snow and ice cover as well as the vegetation extent and density, as of the Northern Spring Equinox.  This, along with the elevation map also seen here, is what I uploaded to maptoglobe.com in order to produce the screenshot at the top of this post.

These maps and figures (except for the preexisting ones) were all created in Photopea.  Higher resolution versions of many of these images can be seen in my dedicated Reddit posts, linked below: reddit post one, reddit post two

2022

[dickmedowndc]

To Woo You - J'onn J'onzz x Oblivious!Reader

Word Count: 2,507

Summary: J’onn has taken interest in one of the new Watchtower workers and has been making attempts at “wooing” the reader. But his efforts seem to be in vain when they mistake his attempts as just “being nice.” Running out of options, he turns to advice from his fellow leaguers on how to flirt properly.

Notes: A request from @hyomy Hope you enjoy! I cannot tell you how many times I had to rewrite this one, honestly.

Also gonna tag the others who expressed interest - @winters-doll, @movielover2002, and @lunar-the-monster-fu

Part II here

…★…

This was it. J’onn could take little more of this. If his newest attempt to show you his affections once more fell flat, then he was out of ideas and would need to seek help elsewhere. 

Even his attempt to be straight forward had only been met with miscommunication! Perhaps, he reasoned, he should have clarified then and there that he had meant he had romantic feelings for you – but the way you lit up, so overjoyed that he considered you a friend had the words drying up in his throat. If you happened to not return his romantic affections, well, he hated the idea of seeing your smile fall. 

You had endured a rough day then, he could see it in the way you carried yourself, but his words had seemed to lift you up. So, there was always next time, he had silently assured himself. At least until you continued to miss the meaning behind his regular presence and interest in your life and self. 

It wasn’t intentional, he knew that much. It really was just honest obliviousness. Something he had become aware of upon getting to know you. 

You were a fantastic addition aboard the Watchtower – a dedicated worker and easy going for the most part. Your honesty and willingness to help others had been what had caught his eye in the first place. 

J’onn could do much of the work himself, but you never offered your assistance because you thought he was incapable, you just wanted to be as helpful as you could and make things a little easier. It was something that had not gone unnoticed and had only served to spearhead his affections for you. 

But now, three months of vain attempts later, all concluding with that same endearing smile and assurances that you were so glad to have him in your life, had led him here; a small blue box in his hands as he traversed the corridors, nodding in passing to staff and League members alike. A few, mostly staff who had seen some of his attempts and spotted the box in his hands, shot him encouraging smiles and thumbs up. 

Word traveled fast, that much was clear. 

You had mentioned the other day that you would be spending your shift in the main console room, working to monitor some of the incoming radio frequencies for distress signals. And if he was right, and he knew he was, it was just about time for you to get back from your break. 

With renewed confidence, J’onn stepped round the corner, spotting you just before you could slip through the automatic doors, managing to call out your name and catch your attention. 

You seemed to almost sway in place, eyes darting immediately to the box in his hands before turning your body to face him. 

J’onn would never admit he was nervous at just the harmless way you gave him your full attention, so quickly and so wholly, hardly a glance at anyone or anything else. He shook himself free and focused back on you, “Do you have a moment?” 

“I’ve got a minute or two still, actually.” Seemingly all too happy to have the chance to speak with him again. 

“I remembered you mentioning this a few days ago, so I wanted to get you a gift.” 

Your eyes widen, if only for a moment, as you carefully take the box from his outstretched hand. Wasting no time, you untie the ribbon, neatly done up in a shape that almost reminds you of a heart, before nudging the lid off. You mentally brush it aside as coincidence. 

 Inside lies a pastry you had mentioned, just once, in passing the week prior when you had stopped to talk to J’onn on your break. “You remembered!” 

“It may not be as good as the ones that you normally get, but hopefully it’s still up to your standards.” 

For a moment you can almost swear you see a smile on his lips, but it vanishes in the blink of an eye. 

“Hey, J’onn, have you had the chance to try one of these yet?” 

“No, I haven’t tried it myself.” 

“No time like the present,” you grin, tearing a piece off and handing it to him, tucking the box under your arm as you cradle the other piece in one hand – silently urging for him to try it first. 

Your energy is infectious and J’onn complies easily. Not his favorite, he can admit, but the way you light up when he tells you he likes it makes it all the sweeter. 

Without shame you scarf your own half down, knowing you would be unable to focus with it just inches away from you for the rest of your shift. “I really needed this today – honestly, what did I do to deserve a friend like you!” 

Ah. 

There it is. It takes every bit of self-control that he has not to visibly deflate at your words. 

Another attempt, while vague, he admits to himself, has failed. 

But once again, you’re so happy with the situation, just to be considered, and he can’t bring himself to correct you on his intentions – not if it risks ruining your mood. 

Looking just over your shoulder, he can see a few other tower workers, visibly cringing before hurrying off to wherever they needed to be. It was a surprise enough to him that none of them had just told you themselves. 

Still, for the moment all he can do is assure you that it was well worth the money, tell you that no, you did not need to pay him back for the gift - he had happily bought it for you – before sending you off and back to work. 

The Martian stands in the corridor for a moment, just thinking, before squaring his shoulders and starting on his way to the cafeteria. 

The Flash was supposed to be in the tower for the day, and the first stop on The Martian Manhunter’s search was wherever the food was to be found. 

It was time to admit he needed reinforcements. 

He finds Flash, roughly 27 minutes later, tucked away in the corner of a deserted room, eating a bag of corn-chips. Likely hiding from Batman, whom J’onn had already run into once, also searching for him. The Bat had seemed less than pleased with whatever was on his mind, and J’onn thought better of prying. For the moment. 

There was more pressing business at hand. 

“Flash, I require your assistance with something.” 

This catches the speedster’s attention, though not before he glances around, seeming to double check the shadows. He makes a hushing motion at J’onn, desperate before he seems to coil in tighter on himself. “Alright, but not so loud.” 

It's almost worth asking what he has done. Almost. 

“So, what do you need help with? An extra hand with some of the circuitry?” 

J’onn hesitates for a moment, but it is enough to have the speedster leaning out of the shadows, thoroughly intrigued. 

“Is it about that Watchtower worker?” 

The Martian falters at that. “You know?” 

“Dude, everyone knows. There’s a betting pool on it.” 

He elects to ignore that comment. “My attempt today was once again met with,”  J’onn has to pause, “obliviousness.” he finishes with a resigned sigh. 

“Are you sure it isn’t on purpose?” 

“I’m positive that it isn’t.” 

“So, you want my help or my advice?” 

The face J’onn makes must be amusing because only a moment later the Flash is cracking up. “Advice, I take it?” 

“That would be preferable, yes.” 

“Well, what are some of the things that you’ve tried so far?” 

J’onn actually has to take a moment to think about that. “In the last month alone, I believe I have tried gifting foods or desserts, spending time with them alone in the watchtower, asking them questions about their life, written them notes, and I attempted to tell them directly.” 

He can hear the breath that his colleague sucks in. “I’m sorry, did you say you tried telling them directly?” 

“Correct, but my wording was sub-par, and I could not sully their mood with the correction if those feelings were not returned.” 

“Have you tried just, I don’t know, asking them on a date?” 

“Does admitting my feelings not count?” 

“Usually? Not necessarily, I guess. Maybe not to them? Either way, just ask them on a date, and make sure they understand that you’re asking for - and I cannot stress this enough - a romantic date.” 

“Do you have any suggestions then? On a plan for where to take them?” 

“Not the movies – maybe for a second or third date, but try dinner or something first, and -” 

Flash is cut off by the whirring of a door opening, both himself and the Martian turning to face the looming figure of Batman. There isn’t a word said before the speedster abandons his bag of corn-chips and makes a break for freedom. 

Batman stands still for a moment, nods to John, and turns to stalk off, almost vanishing in an instant. 

J’onn finds himself letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. 

For now, he focuses on planning a romantic dinner date, and the process of asking. 

Two days later J’onn has found that planning the date was the easy part. Planning how we was supposed to ask you, and ensuring that his intentions were crystal clear, proves to be more of an effort. 

The Flash had made quick work to spread the news to whoever was in the betting pool, or some of them, and a few of his colleagues had come forward to offer advice: roses, a card, wording. Some he had considered, like the roses, and others he had scrapped. 

But the day had been decided, and while J’onn was not scheduled to be on the Watchtower that day, you were, and it was nearing the end of your shift. 

It was the perfect time to pull you aside and ask. 

Hopefully the rose in hand will be enough, a full bouquet seemed like far too much of an attention drawer to bring into the Watchtower. 

He finds you leaving in the direction of the transporters, seemingly happy to be in your own company – nodding and saying goodbyes for the day in quick passing. At least until he calls for you, which has you whipping around to face him almost immediately, and he swears you seem to light up even more. 

He hasn’t read your mind, at least he hasn’t prodded it for any hint of feelings you hold for him. And he had promised himself not to until he asked you outright. But the urge is almost overwhelming now, with nerves clawing at his stomach. 

It had been some time since he had tried courting anyone, after all. 

Your eyes flicker to the rose and J’onn swears that you tense for a moment before you’re just as chipper and chatting away, “oh, you have an admirer?” 

“Actually, I brought this for you. I was hoping you had a moment to speak. Alone, perhaps.” 

“Sure, we can step over to the side if that works - I think it’s pretty busy up here today.” 

He won’t say it’s the epitome of seclusion, but the hallways are sufficiently barren, and if he keeps his voice down then it should work well enough. “Of course.” 

When they finally manage to step aside, he realizes that the rose is still in his hands – and in lieu of the words that he finds escaping him – he hands it over, gentle as he can be, only to find you take it just as gingerly, admiring the bloom. 

Finally, because he knows if he doesn’t begin now, he may lose his courage, he speaks. “I was hoping you would accompany me on a romantic date next week. There is a restaurant I found, and I believe you would enjoy it immensely.” 

His request seems to stun you for a moment, and he worries his words might be misinterpreted – somehow. At least until you are parroting back a piece of his sentence. 

“Romantic?” 

“That is correct.” 

“As more than friends?” 

“I would like that,” he assures, but he still cannot be certain of your feelings. Your face seems blank as you process his words. 

It’s only a few seconds more before your eyes widen, and he sees you practically bouncing in place. “Wednesday is my next day off; we can do a different day if that doesn’t work for you.” 

He can finally let his muscles relax. He had been so tense waiting for your answer. Worried of all the negative outcomes, he had hardly imagined a true yes. “Wednesday will work perfectly.” In truth, he had already examined your schedule and switched monitor duty for that day with Hawkwoman. “We can discuss more tomorrow, if you would like.” 

This has you humming, and amused glint in your eyes before fishing a sticky note from your uniform. 

You always kept a few on hand with a good pen, just in case. He remembered that from a few months ago. 

And only a moment later you’re handing over your phone number. “We can also talk about it more tonight, if you’d like.” 

“I would love to.” 

It’s silent for a moment, and admittedly a touch awkward before you step back. “I should probably go soon though, my shift ended. Talk tonight?” 

J’onn nods, clutching the number in one hand and not fully trusting his voice. Still, it seems to put you at ease as you turn and begin to head off. He takes it as his own cue to head back, intending to find Hawkwoman and confirm that their monitor shift switch was still in place. 

You’re struck by one thought though, one that has you pivoting back around and calling loudly out for the Martian - loud enough to catch the attention of some passing staff, who seem to glance at you before hurrying off. You pay little mind to it before realizing you have his attention. “How long have you been trying to tell me?” 

He hesitates to answer before admitting the truth. “2 or 3 months now, I believe.” 

This has you flustered, and admittedly embarrassed recalling many of your interactions in that past time. You really had not noticed? 

His words catch you off guard but do little to quell the heat on your cheeks. All you can do is squeak out an “oh” initially. “Well, at least I know now,” you offer up, unable to meet his eyes for the time being and ready to bolt right back to your home. At least until Wednesday. 

“It was endearing, honestly.” 

You give a little hum, taking note of his amused expression before bidding him a goodnight and hurrying down the hallway, rose clutched in your hands. 

When your coworkers ask about the flower before starting the transporter, you’re too enamored with the gift to notice the range of expressions and people settling up.