#i already know it's gonna be heavy on the first three options

[coquelicoq]

counting to 5 on your fingers: a poll!

the options were kinda hard to describe within the character limit, so here are some pre-poll questions and examples to help you figure out which option to pick:

do you count by moving the 5 fingers on one hand (options 1-8) or by touching parts of one hand with the other (option 9)?

if you count by moving fingers, do you start with a fist for 0 and end with an open hand for 5 (options 1-5) or start with an open hand and end with a fist (options 6-8)?

if you count by moving fingers, does each number look the same as the previous number except one additional finger has changed position (options 1-4 and 6-7), or for some numbers do three or more fingers change position compared to the previous number (options 5 and 8)?

an example of option 5 would be american sign language, where 3 is index, middle, and thumb extended, but for 4 you extend two new fingers (ring and pinky) and draw the thumb back in.

an example of option 9 would be using your right index finger to touch the fingers on your left hand one at a time; e.g., touching the left thumb is 0, touching the left index is 1, touching the left pinky is 5, etc. the fingers on the left hand don't move.

if you're interested, i got some of the ideas from this bbc article. that link also has a video that demonstrates the options in case my descriptions are confusing!

[cvntluver444]

LOVE your writing. Would it be possible to have dark smut of either:

1) Ellie and reader having an affair as Ellie helps reader leave toxic/abusive relationship with Abby

2) Abby seducing Ellie's gf after they have a fight

better than her abby anderson

༯ summary : #2 of the request!!

༯ warnings : smut minors/men dni, NOT PROOFREAD, cheating, slight angst, slight fluff, dirty talk, oral (reader r!), fingering (reader r!), meow spanking (reader r!), let me know if there anything else please!!

༯ a/n : anon i wanna apologize in advance because i do not think i did your request justice 😭 i chose to go with you second option since im still new to writing (especially dark smut), and i just am not happy with it!! since it took me so long to write this however i wanted to put out something for you!! i have been so stressed with school already so i haven’t been able to write as much but guysss i want to!!! i have some more request to look at eeeek im so excited! i love hearing your guys’ dirty thoughts bc sameeeee

also - first abby fic! i’m an ellie girl but wanted to try something new :p i hope you all enjoy!!

🇵🇸 as always, please continue spreading information and resources on how to help Palestine!!

daily click

𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝒆

"say it" she demands as she stares into your eyes, tongue quickly diving back into your pussy. you cry out, eyes closed tightly and mouth open wide, yelps escaping your mouth. she pulled her mouth away and slapped in between your thighs, causing you to cry out.

"she's not good for me", you cry out, back arching as she starts pumping two fingers inside of you.

“that’s right baby,” she encourages you, smirk on her face. “she doesn’t treat you right.” she pauses, waiting for your response, but grew impatient and grabbed your face. “do you want me to stop?”

no no no no you beg, strings of pleas coming out from your mouth. “she doesn’t treat me right,” you say loudly, breathing heavy from the pleasure. her grip still tight on your chin.

“good girl,” she she says, as she slowly puts a finger in your mouth. her fingers pace start to speed up, and you’re once again a mess, falling back on the bed and moaning out her name.

“because ellie it makes me uncomfortable, and either you’re not seeing it, or you just don’t care!” you yell at your girlfriend.

“you’re so fucking dramatic we’re just partnered up for the project i told you.” ellie groans, head falling back in annoyance.

“you didn’t tell me that this project of yours was gonna keep you busy every day after school for three house, alone.” you sternly told her, tears welling in your eyes. you already knew what had happened, your friends catching her in the act.

“well i don’t know what to tell you, baby” she shrugs and you scoff, telling her to go fuck herself before rushing out the door. you sent a quick text to abby, asking if you could come over. she responded with an of course, and one thing led to another and now she’s in between your legs, eating you out better than ellie ever could.

“am i gonna make you cum baby, hm? gonna cum all over my tongue?” she teases you, her words making you come even closer to your high.

“yes fuck abby, you make me feel so good,” you moan.

“i know i do baby, better than her right?” she challenges, and you just nod your head, unable to answer her. “come on, show me how good i really make you feel.”

the knot in your stomach grows rapidly, and you finally come undone. you feel yourself let go all over abby’s face, while she moans hard into your pussy. you see stars and your breathing stops, as you calm down from one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

you look up from where your sitting and see abby leaving light kisses on your thighs, still lightly moaning as you see her hips slowly rolling against her own hand. you feel your cheeks go red as you realize she came to your own orgasm. your sight then falls in line with her face, drenched with your release.

“oh my- abby i’m so sorry,” but she cuts you off quickly

“don’t apologize baby,” she tells you, “it was so hot,” she smirks as she leans in for a kiss. she falls on top of you and pulls the covers over your naked bodies.

“thank you for taking care of me today, abby,” you politely thank her, innocent look in your eyes that drives her crazy.

“i’ll always take care of you.” she tells you, and hungrily gives you another kiss. you both start making out once more before your phone starts to ring. it takes you a couple seconds to pull away, before turning to see who was calling you.

els missed call x2

els where are you?!?!

els baby please i’m so sorry

els where are you please

els missed call x 3

els okay this isn’t funny why aren’t you answering

before you could have a chance you read the rest, abby takes your phone from your hands and hands it back to you after a couple seconds.

“what did you do?” you ask her, confused.

“i blocked her,” she told you proudly. you weren’t sure how you felt about it. “now she won’t bother you anymore.” a dark look in her eyes. you choose to ignore and lay back down next to her.

before you could think more into the situation that just happened, abby’s hand starts trailing across your thighs, reaching higher and higher until she reached where you needed her the most.

“round 2?”

𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝒆

༯ a/n : i hate this and im sorry. 😕

[girlokwhatever]

Ugh I’ve become obsessed with Paige. I actually showed a friend a video of her trying to explain my crush and the first thing she said was “wow, I didn’t expect her voice to be so deep”. I’m likeeeee SEE 🫠

For a request how about a late night call with Paige while she’s out of town. That voice in your ear, saying all the things she wish she could do and will do when she gets home. 😈

ᯤ༉‧₊˚.*ੈ✩‧₊˚‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ on the phone,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

you were in your bed getting ready to finally lay down after the long day you had. paige’s side of the bed was left empty and cold ever since she left for an away game. it’d only been two days and she’d probably be back tomorrow, but you still miss her an unbelievable amount.

your head hits the pillow when your phone starts ringing, paige’s name spoken loudly in the air by your phone. it startles you a little, not expecting to hear from her again today.

you reach over and answer it, pulling the phone close to your ear. “paige?”

“hey ma, how are youuu?” she drags out the ‘you,’ making it evident she’s happy and in a cheerful mood. you can’t help but smile just by picturing her face.

“i’m good, about to go to bed actually.”

“not yet. i wanna talk to you for a little bit. i’ve missed you.” her tone changes with the last few words, voice lowering in a seductive manner. it already has you turning in bed as the heat creeps up your body, the tone all too familiar to you.

“i’ve missed you too p.”

there’s a pause on paige’s side of the phone, silence filling the line. you hear her labored breath fanning over the microphone and wonder if she’s just as worked up as you are right now, even though she hasn’t actually done anything.

“i’m so excited to come home tomorrow baby. can i tell you something?”

“anything.”

“i wanna fuck you so bad right now.”

“oh-” you have no time to speak because she’s cutting you off immediately to follow up on her statement.

“when i get home, fuck- you have no idea what m’gonna do to you.”

now it’s your turn to pause, carefully thinking about what your next move is. you could just tease her, tell her to go to bed and make good on her promises tomorrow. on the other hand, you could play into whatever she’s trying to do and see where it goes.

you opt for the second option.

“yeah? what’re you gonna do to me paige?”

“you wanna know?”

“yeah.”

your girlfriend squeezes her eyes shut, praying that she doesn’t finish just by hearing the sound of your voice. you’re so intoxicating to her, always knowing what to say and what buttons to press. it’s almost embarrassing the affect you have on her.

“i wanna bend you over the kitchen counter, get you warmed up on my fingers. maybe three fingers, that sound good? i’ll make you feel so good baby i promise. i’ll start off slow if you want, or fast, it’s up to you.”

you’re breathing heavy too, considering dipping a hand down into your pajama shorts because she’s turning you on so much. the wetness between your legs grow, rubbing them together for some relief.

“once you cum two or three times i’ll take you to our bed- are you okay babe? i can hear you moving a lot.”

“m’okay. keep going,” your hand snakes into your underwear, collecting your arousal and using it to rub tight circles on your clit. the simple pleasure is enough to make your head tilt back and hit the headboard. the sound echoes through the phone and paige knows exactly what you’re doing.

“i’ve been wanting to taste you so bad too, gonna have you ride my face until i tell you to stop. want your legs around my head, cum dripping on my face. i want it so bad ma you have no idea.”

“yeah?” it comes out more like a whine, voice high-pitched as the pit in your stomach grows. you haven’t gotten yourself off in so long. the feeling is foreign to you, arm growing tired from the constant strain.

“yeah. won’t stop until your legs are shaking.”

“oh my god paige.”

“gonna fuck you too. nice and slow and deep so i can take my time, i want you to ride me after that. i love it when you ride me- i get to see everything. i’ll fuck you in the shower, on the fucking wall for all i care. i’ve missed your pretty pussy so much it’s all i can think about.”

you moan into the phone, making it blatantly obvious what you’re doing if it wasn’t already. paige feels her chest swell with pride and she’s so turned on she thinks about doing the same thing as you; dipping an eager hand into her pants to relieve the pressure.

“i won’t stop until you beg me to. i don’t want you thinking about anything else but me and how i make you feel, okay? want you chanting my name.”

“yes-fuck! nothing but you p,”

your hand gets tired and sloppy as your orgasm approaches, back bending off the bed to help you grind on yourself. paige is still talking but you can’t even hear her because your ears are ringing and you’re so close-

“you gonna cum baby?”

you hum out, near delirious and probably crying as her words send you over the edge. your whole body shakes at the sensation but it’s nothing like how paige makes you feel.

you can’t wait until she’s here and not just on the phone.

ᯤ༉‧₊˚.*ੈ✩‧₊˚‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

a lil short fic for my paige girlies

part of me fears i made this a bit too freaky……

BUT I LIKE TJE REQUEST SO HERE YOU GO!

partially spell checked idk

[mattzerella-sticks]

if it cannot hatch from its shell, the chick will die without ever truly being born. (ao3 link)

Rated: T

Word count: 2,324

Pairing: Buck/Eddie (pre-relationship)

It's missing-Christopher-Diaz-hours at the Diaz House, party of one. Until Buck crashes his pity party with a little gift to help turn Eddie's night around for the better. Now stoned, Eddie convinces Buck to watch a television show with him that Eddie hasn't seen in years. The show dredges up old feelings for Eddie. He and Buck talk them out.

Eddie’s pushing dinner around when he receives Buck’s text asking to hang out. He answers immediately. No. Without further explanation or any uncertainty. That doesn’t stop Buck from following up, telling Eddie he’s already outside.

               “Dammit, Buck…”

               He throws his fork against the plate. Its clatter overpowers the scrape his chair makes as he stands and stomps towards the front door. Buck waits for him there. Phone in one hand, brown paper bag in the other.

               Buck squints down at Eddie, a sheepish grin creeping across his face. “Hey, Eddie…”

               “I’m not in the mood, Buck.”

               “I know but… give me a minute. And – and if you still aren’t, I’ll leave.”

               Eddie should turn Buck away. Return to his unappetizing, freezer-burned microwaveable meal puddling on his table and wallow, alone, like he had planned for the rest of his evening. But then Buck bat his eyelashes at Eddie. He bats them twice. Three times, and Eddie surrenders.

               “Fine.” Eddie steps aside so Buck can squeeze past. “You have one minute. Starting… now.”

               Buck guides Eddie into the living room wasting his allotted time to set him onto the couch before speaking. He reaches inside the brown paper bag and produces a large, shrink-wrapped, chocolate-chip cookie. Eddie spots the dessert’s label. He recognizes the tiny seven-tipped leaf printed on it.

               “Is that –“?

               “Figured you’d prefer this over a brownie,” he says. “Since the last time I brought brownies over was… not our most pleasant conversation.”

               Eddie’s gaze drifts from the cookie to Buck. He looks all too eager for Eddie to lunge at the opportunity like a fish with bait, though his appearance is also suffused with poorly masked worry that he, perhaps, miscalculated. That Eddie would still deny him, send him away.

               The idea is tempting. So is the cookie. He weighs both options in his mind as the minute he gave Buck runs out into overtime.

               Buck squirms underneath his scrutiny. “So? Are you in?”

               His answer was inevitable in the end. He sighs. Reaches out to Buck and, crooking his fingers, Eddie says, “Hand it over.”    

They split the cookie between them. Each cookie half is about five milligrams. Eddie nibbles on his treat to wade into his high. The warm, tingling numbness starts at his ankles, climbs his shins, his knees, rising higher and higher until it reaches his head and then he’s fully submerged, floating in a gooey, imagined embrace. That happens around the thirty-minute mark.

               Buck, the lightweight, was giddy after his first bite. His only bite.

               “What the hell did we just watch, Eds?” He’s laughing. His fingers lazily ghost the hairs at Eddie’s nape as he speaks. “Seriously? I know we’re stoned but that felt like an acid trip.”

               Eddie rolls his eyes at him. “No it didn’t.”

               “Did too.”

               “Shut up.”

               The credits end and the video skips onto the next in the playlist; the second episode begins despite Buck’s giggled, stilted review of the first drowning it out.

               Eddie pauses the video. “Are you gonna watch the show, or do you want to keep talking over it?”

               Buck’s lips twitch and tremble against his smile while he schools his features into a heavy caricature of seriousness to apologize. Laughter hiccups from him regardless and, though he tries clearing his throat to hide it, Eddie notices. “Sorry, sorry,” he repeats. “I just… I’m still trying to wrap my head around what we saw.”

               “What are you hung up on?”

               “…Everything?”

               “Buck…”

               “Okay, okay – I guess the whole… dueling thing threw me. Where did the arena come from? The upside-down castle?”

               “They’re just there.”

               “And everyone’s cool with fighting there? With swords?”

               “They have to. It’s part of the Contest for the Rose Bride.”

               “That’s another thing! How is everyone so cool with a contest where the winner practically ‘owns’ this poor girl? I mean, even those other kids saw how badly that green-haired douche was treating her, and they let it happen because ‘he won’. What was that?”

               Eddie sighs. “It sucks, but those are the rules. Whoever’s engaged to the Rose Bride can do what they want, and in return – at the right time – the Rose Bride will grant her betrothed the power to revolutionize the world.” Buck almost protests but Eddie cuts him off. “This was only the first episode. If we keep watching, they get into it – deconstruct it a bit, by way of the main character.”

               “Is the sword the power they’re all fighting for?”

               “No, the sword’s just a sword.”

               “That happens to live inside a girl?”

               “Yes.”

               “Then what are they all fighting for?”

               “Buck!”

               Buck pouts at Eddie. It curbs the frustration bubbling beneath his surface, that threatened to kill his buzz. Eddie breathes deep and releases his jittery tension in a long exhale. Finished, he sags deeper into the couch as he casts a dull, half-lidded stare across where Buck had fully sprawled atop its cushions and the nearby coffee table.

               “Do you want me to put something else on?” he asks. “Because if you’re not interested, I can.”

               “No, no. I’m interested. I wouldn’t be asking this many questions if I wasn’t interested.”

               “Promise?”

               He nods. “Yeah, you can start it up again. I’ll stay quiet.”

               “You sure?”

               “Positive.”

               Eddie presses play, the screen unfreezes, and the episode continues.

Eddie has been watching Buck rather than the show for the past few minutes, more interested in how the television’s fuzzy glow softens the edges of Buck’s rapt attraction to the story. He looks younger in its light. Stubble hidden; eyes wider. Eddie could tell him to close his mouth, to keep bugs from flying inside it, but he can’t navigate his thoughts around the roadblock that is Buck’s adorableness to form a coherent sentence let alone gather the strength and shatter the enchanting silence by speaking.

               True to his word, Buck hadn’t made a peep during the entire episode. Why must Eddie?

               Why must Eddie look at Buck and, without meaning to, ask, “You really like it?”

               Buck holds a finger to shush him, his eyes trained on the screen. Eddie fumbles for the remote and stops it midway through the obligatory dueling scene.

               “Eddie!”

               “You like it?”

               Buck meets his gaze and blinks. “Uh,” he runs his tongue over his top lip, his bottom lip, his top lip again. “Yeah. I thought I told you that I was…”

               “Interested? I know,” Eddie shrugs. “You could’ve been saying it to say it, though.”

               “Why would I do that?”

               “You wouldn’t be the first.”

               Eddie realizes it’s the worst thing to have said because now Buck has forgotten the show and misplaced all his attention onto Eddie. Half his face is lost in shadow. The half Eddie can see he doesn’t like. The softness is tinged with sorrow, his parted lips turned down, and Buck’s eye had sharpened to better pierce him. Like it might probe all Eddie’s memories, every moment he shared an interest, let someone in, every attempt which ended in failure as they thought it, thought him, too weird to make an effort, until he stopped sharing those parts of himself, with one, mighty jab.

               Not that it was remotely possible Buck could know all that from a single look...

               …Right?

               “Eddie,” Buck says. “I’d never lie to you about liking something. If I did, you’d still be a lousy cook.”

               “Oh. Right.”

               He’s not sure how to proceed, so Eddie decides his most prudent course of action is to pretend this hadn’t happened and resume watching the show. Except the remote had somehow ended up in Buck’s hands. Dammit.

               “Does this show really mean a lot to you?”

               “A lot?” Eddie doesn’t remember communicating ever being this hard. Was it the weed, or the conversation topic? His tongue sits awkwardly inside his mouth as he talks. “I like it, yeah. Have ever since I was a kid.”

               “You watched this as a kid?”

               “It was one of my favorite shows,” he says. “I… watched a lot of anime growing up.”

               “You like anime? How do I not know this about you?”

               “You like anime?” Eddie parrots Buck’s question back at him instead of answering.

               “I… didn’t watch much television as a kid,” Buck admits. “My folks thought most cartoons airing back then would only make me dumber, so they limited what I watched. But I remember seeing a few episodes of Dragon Ball Z, when I’d hang out at a friend’s house sometimes.”

               “I watched that. I wasn’t as obsessed with it like all the other kids at school were.”

               “Why not?”

               “I don’t know… it just felt long. And there was a lot of fighting.”

               “There’s fighting in this.”

               “Yeah, there is.”

               “What about this show’s different?”

               Eddie looks at the screen, at where Utena is locked in battle with Saionji during their rematch. Utena winces while Saionji bears down on her. As he studies the screen Eddie reflects on why he’s so fond of this anime over so many that he’s seen. When he reaches a conclusion, he glances back at Buck, finds him waiting, and chooses to share.

               “I guess I liked the main girl’s whole deal.”

               “What do you mean?”

               “She’s this girl. And everyone has expectations about how she’s supposed to act, like they’re trying to box her in. Yet she doesn’t stand for any of that crap. She looks the world in the eye and says, ‘this is who I am. I won’t stop being who I am because it makes you uncomfortable’. It’s… it was inspiring, back then.” For a boy who always felt like the shoes he wore were bigger than they were supposed to be. Who was boxed in by the world from the very beginning, but who couldn’t stand as tall as her. Who can’t.

               “I’d say it’s pretty inspiring now, too,” Buck whispers.

               “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”

               Buck taps the remote against his thigh arrhythmically. “So you saw a lot of yourself in Utena?”

               A prickling warmth creeps up Eddie’s face. “I guess.”

               “Cool.”

               He holds the remote out for Eddie to take.

               Eddie grabs it, but he doesn’t press play yet. He’s on the right side of being stoned that this next admission wouldn’t hurt like it should. Eddie can talk about it like he would the weather or how the Lakers played in their last game. He doesn’t waste the opportunity. “I wanted to watch this with Christopher.”

               “You – you did?”

               Buck recognizes the gravity imbued within his speech, even in his inebriated state, and pulls closer to Eddie’s orbit to listen.

               “Yeah.” And Eddie’s glad Buck is here, that he brought the weed-infused cookie. “I wanted to share it with him, show him a part of my childhood.”

               “What were you waiting for?”

               “For him to get older,” Eddie chuckles. “But I guess I waited a little too long, huh?”

               “There’ll still be time, Eds.”

               The most wonderful thing is that Eddie can watch the twinkle in Buck’s eye as he says that, and knows he means it from the very core of his being. Makes Eddie briefly believe it himself.

               “Yeah. Yeah, there will be.”

They resumed the episode. At the end, as the credits began to roll, and a vocalist sang the closing theme in a language neither understood as the dub declined including subtitles for the music, Buck asks Eddie who he thinks Buck is like in this fantastical world, if Eddie is Utena. “Am I the friend? Waka – something?”

               Wakaba? Eddie does not think so. She always reminded him of Shannon.

               But Buck… “You’re more like Anthy.”

               “Anthy?” Buck blinks at him. “You mean the girl everyone’s fighting over?”

               “Yeah.”

               “Why?”

               Eddie cannot parse through the vast number of reasons swirlimg around his fogged mind, so he shrugs and cops out by telling Buck, “If you watched the show, it’d be obvious.”

               “I am! It’s not my fault we’re only on episode two!”

               “Then we need to watch more.”

               Buck groans, but he’s also flashing Eddie that special, private smile he has whenever they’re alone together that leaves him breathless. He blames it, and the resultant oxygen deprivation, on what he does next.

               Eddie lays his hand flat over Buck’s heart. It thump-thump-thumps beneath Eddie’s palm at a slow, deliberate pace.

               “What are you doing?”

               “Trying to pull a sword from your chest.”

               Except that’s not quite true. As his one hand rests there, both men wholly consumed by the comfort in their contact, Eddie’s other hand slithers towards Buck’s neck and scrapes its blunt nails across a patch of skin forcing Buck to yelp, jump, and draw his shoulders high as he could to shield himself from another strike.

               “Did you just tickle me?”

               Eddie’s laughing. He gloats, “Yeah. I did.”

               “Oh. Oh, it’s on.”

               They miss the entirety of the third episode because of their tickle war. Eddie’s body aches worse than after suffering through Gerard’s tortuous drills he forces on them ever since returning to lord over the 118, and while he might have been tossed onto the floor by Buck’s long, flailing legs sweeping him off the couch, Eddie does not care. He feels too much like a kid to care about those sorts of things.

               Not the kid he was. The kid he never got to be.

               Eddie stares up at Buck, his back groaning in protest, chest heaving with every breath, face flushed and sweaty, and thanks him. “For tonight.”

               Buck nods. “Thank you. For this.”

               He must mean the show, for letting Buck view a part of himself Eddie hadn’t revealed in years, trusting him with this knowledge… because any other reason Eddie might suspect has to be imagined, brought on by the drugs roiling inside.

               Buck helps Eddie back onto the couch and once they have made themselves comfortable, pressed against each other, not an inch of space between them, the two boys restart the episode.

[sparxaf]

The Inscrutability of Alex

So I might be working on an S7 Alex fic. I mean, I'm probably not working that. But I could be. Maybe. Anyway, for mysterious reasons, I decided to replay the current episodes because I found myself confused by a couple things with Alex. And a second playthrough left me even more confused. I sent @mrsbsmooth a nearly three minute, babbling voice note, asking her if I was missing something, because I cannot figure out how to write him.

This character is described by multiple others as having "golden retriever" energy. Something he absolutely does not have. I'd say he's not even that playful. It's just bizarre for anyone to say that. Nothing about him is overly energetic. Both Raf and Bryson are much better described like that. Alex has the most whistle-whilst-mowing-the-lawn-in jorts-dad energy ever. Golden retriever he is not.

So okay, his energy doesn't match the description. That's not a huge issue on its own. But like...who is he? He says he's not cocky, just confident.

Hmmm. Never is a strong word, innit?

Now, a less cynical person might say that Fusebox is just writing a realistic depiction of someone who is unaware of his own cockiness, but since I am a cynical asshole, I'm saying that Fusebox is not in the business of nuance. They make the same amount of money whether they spend the extra energy to give it depth or not. So they're never gonna bother with that. This is just inconsistent writing. Now, we all know that Alex's most overtly acknowledged trait is his desire to "Take things slow." He says he's looking for the one, and he's not gonna rush that. He knows things move fast there, but he still wants to take his time. He didn't kiss Estelle on the first night. He was uncomfortable with Summer being so forward before he knew anything about her. So how does a guy who takes things slow answer a question from a virtual stranger about what he does for a living?

A dirty joke. Yes, very much setting the tone for his lack of cockiness and his desire to take things slow 🙄 Though I do enjoy MC responding with "Very presumptive, but good to know." 😆😆😆 Not to mention, when he finds out you can snog during the icebreaker, he's not like, "Um too soon." Instead his eyes light up like he can't wait. It's so baffling. So let's say maybe he's just a slow mover who is also really flirty by nature. That feels like he's sending mixed signals at best and manipulating you at the worst. Now this one really threw me for a loop. There's a gem scene where you can ask the boys to tell you something cute about themselves. Alex tells a story about having a crush on a gym bunny and how it led him to weightlifting in order to ask her out. But he kept putting it off and by the time he finally got the nerve, she was already dating someone. So he learned not to hesitate. He learned to just go for it.

Um... what? That's a strange perspective to have for someone whose entire ethos is "Take it slow." Now, I'm aware that he is very straight forward with MC about where his head is at, so perhaps he just meant that he doesn't waste time letting someone know he's interested, but he still wants to take the relationship slow? I don't know. Last, but not least, on night one, you couldn't even kiss Alex (unless I'm misremembering). You could only snuggle. But on night two, Alex says he still wants to take it slow, but he wants to a little something. So the game gives us some options. And the first choice was to do bits. Now, this might be my fault, but I assumed that "bits" in this case would be some kissing and making out. Heavy petting. Maybe some under the clothes touching. But, to my utter shock, no it's not just a heavy make out sesh. Nope. He finger blasts you. He straight up bypasses the face lips and tiddies, and goes straight to rubbing the bean and shoving a digit inside of your person. It's an awfully intimate act for someone like him who's only been alone with you three times, and beyond challenge smooches (if you chose to even take those), has still never really made out with, nor kissed you privately. I would like to clarify that I'm not judging how fast or slow anyone goes in their personal lives. But I am I'm judging this character's pace in relation to the things he's been saying about his pace.

I wrote most of this before the last batch of episodes so I'll only lightly touch on the fact that Alex seems nearly ready to ask you to marry him the day after bringing you to the villa. So "taking it slow" really went out the window altogether.

Long story long, there are aspects to Alex I like. I mean, I'm writing him right now (OR AM I?) so it's not all bad. But it's really hard to attempt any canon reinterpretation, when I can't even sort out what canon is.

It just doesn't make sense. Is he cocky or not? Is he a slow mover or does he believe in not wasting time? Is he an inner city gym rat bro, or is he a home-on-the-range papa who wants to build you a cottage, and make babies? Is his whole "slow burn" thing some kind of manipulation to hide that he's a fuckboy (which would be hilarious) or he's just very badly written?

I love a good, lively conversation, so go ahead and let me know your thoughts. But for those who are rather... overly invested in Alex, feel free to yell at me about his perfection and how wrong and dumb I am. I look forward to deleting your vitriol.

[sickonthedancefloor]

⭐

Director's Cut - All Hands on Deck!

Hi y'all, I got a star! ⭐ So I wanted to cut in on this series I started 2-3 years ago that is taking me forever and a day to write.

I spent weeks watching compilation videos of BTS and finding old blogs with their management and staff team and their two main managers that definitely were going to cameo the most in the series. The biggest issue is because they’re managers and behind the scenes staff, it’s always tricky trying t find a characterization that doesn’t seem too off-putting or bizarre.

Outside of that, watching the entire gang dissolve into madness with everyone catching some sort of weird plague is fun to write even though it’s quite difficult. I’ve always been in the habit of writing these long af fics, instead of shorter, easier to post/easier to digest stories. Part of what takes forever is trying to write such long af pieces, even if they’re unnecessary to be that long.

I do plan on continuing this, probably after screaming when Jin makes it back home.

So this fic is actually titled in my story folder as ‘3amchicken’–which was the original plan, just uncontrolled undercooked chicken disaster and hungry boys without restraint–but it ended up being, what? As

Here’s the original fic beginning:

Honestly, they should have done their research first. It had started as a craving for fried chicken after a night working at the studio, and a bleary-eyed Sejin dropped Jimin and Taehyung off at their dorms with fried chicken from the new-but-slightly-seedy restaurant down the street from the studio. Ever the foodies, the two night-owls were always down for trying new restaurants, especially ones within walking distance from their home or from the studio. “Don’t eat too much too quickly,” manager Sejin warned them. The poor man had been up far too long with them; Jimin felt bad having to wake him up from where he’d fallen asleep in the hall from the practice room, but they didn’t have much of a means home outside of walking, which wasn’t the best option at three in the morning. Sejin unlocked the doors to the dark SUV. “You don’t have heavy assignments tomorrow but I know you’re not going to sleep well if you eat all of that chicken tonight.” His eyes turned to the two large bags the boys held. “It’s not just for us!” Taehyung argued quickly, boxy grin in full force. “We’re gonna share… Most of it, yeah.” Jimin nodded quickly, although he knew he and Taehyung would probably eat a ton of this on their own. They hadn’t eaten since late lunch, and after dancing for even longer than Hoseok that night, they were positively famished. And given the heavy sigh, both boys knew their manager knew they weren’t going to listen. He bid them goodnight and waited for them to enter the building before driving off. Jimin snickered, bumping his shoulder against Taehyung’s as they hurried to the elevators. “Think anyone else is up?” “Suga-hyung definitely is,” answered Taehyung, already reaching into the bag for a biscuit. “I asked if he wanted anything, he just asked for wings.” Fishing his keys from his pocket, Jimin made a face. “Ugh, you buy wings for Suga-hyung but you won’t buy wings for me? What kind of best friend are you?” “The kind that buys chicken with you in the middle of the night. Jimin-ah, it smells so good, we gotta hurry and eat it.” With a laugh, Jimin unlocked the door and let Taehyung in first, slipping off his shoes as he locked the door. The kitchen light was still on, but only the tv shone from the living room. As they carried the bags into the area, Jungkook’s messy bun popped into view. “Chicken!” Yoongi chuckled and gently shoved Jungkook away as he rose, stretching his back. Jungkook, instead, climbed over the back of the couch to join the two 95-liners in the kitchen, helping them lay out the different packages. “Wow, this stuff is so greasy,” he remarked, staring at his hands after touching a box. “And we’re sure this place is credible?” Taehyung shrugged. “Seemed credible to me. I guess it’s just greasy.” “That’s going to hurt your stomach later if you eat too much.” But even with the warning, Yoongi walked over and pulled a potato wedge from one of the boxes, taking a bite. He nodded approvingly. “Tastes good though.”

[thezombieprostitute]

Photos

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty​ this is my first entry for the Bingo card combining “jealousy” and “bridesmaid”. Tall reader (no other physical descriptors). Possible Triggers/Warnings: mentions of wedding stress, bridezillas, overbearing mothers.

“Jake, you’ve got to stop pouting. You knew you wouldn’t be one of the groomsmen when you agreed to this.”

“I’m not pouting,” Jake replied curtly. “You just look so beautiful in that dress and he’s the one that’s gonna be in all the photos with you.”

“So, you’re jealous that Rogers is going to be in a few photos with me,” you ask incredulously.

He nods as he replies, “I know it’s silly but I like being in photos with you. People will look at photos from the wedding and think you and Steve were together. I have a hard enough time believing someone as wonderful as you is with me, so it just…irks me when I think of other people confirming that.”

“Jake,” you softly intoned, putting your arms around his shoulders. “There are going to be hundreds of photos taken at the wedding and reception. There’ll be maybe three or four where I’m paired with Steve. The rest of the photos that have me, will also have you. I promise.”

Jake smiled back at you, “thanks for not thinking of my jealousy as being needy or something.”

“Not at all,” you smile. “I think it’s sweet. I’ve never had someone jealous over me before. And it’s for such a sweet reason.” You lean in to kiss him and he kisses back with gentle enthusiasm. “Besides, the only reason I got paired with Rogers is because he’s the only groomsman taller than me and the Mother-of-the-Bride is insistent that if any bridesmaid is taller than the groomsman it’ll ‘ruin the photos’ or something like that.”

“Is she really that bad?”

You nod, “yeah, she’s a real bridezilla. So much so Bucky and Nat have contemplated eloping so that they can actually have a happy wedding.”

“Ouch,” Jake cringed. “You know, if they do elope, we don’t have to spend hours with a bunch of people we barely know and I don’t have to worry about the photos…”

You stare into his beautiful blue eyes and scold, “Jake, no. They’ve got enough stress to deal with and they’ve already put a lot of money into this wedding. The best thing we can do for them is to not add to their problems and, maybe, try to keep Nat’s mom from going too ballistic.”

“Okay, okay. They’re your friends, you want to support them, so I want to support them as well.”

“You’re such a great boyfriend,” you say as you give him several small kisses. “Did you know that?”

“So you tell me,” he smiles, eagerly returning the kisses. “We should get some rest, I suppose. Gotta be ready to go first thing in the morning.”

The next morning you’re not woken up by your alarm, but rather your phone continuously buzzing. You shouldn’t be surprised, it’s the day of the wedding so the chat group is likely going to be super active. You’re definitely not surprised that all but a few of the notifications are from Nat’s mom. What does surprise you is the first notification from Nat, a text saying “got married last night. Had a blast! Here’s a link to the photos!” You smile from ear to ear and type out, “congrats! Have a happy honeymoon!” and quickly mute your phone and cuddle up to Jake.

“What was all that about,” he asked, voice heavy with sleep.

“Let’s just say, you and I can now spend all day in bed together. Photos optional.”

[straydogingodshotcar]

CHAPTER 1

the big bang

He stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom. His mostly black hair with the bleached stripe in front where the blue dye faded completely. His eyes looked weirdly brown in this lighting. What was he doing again? Right! Music. Can't forget the music, otherwise he doubted he’d make it to school alive. “We’ll meet again” by.. ahh, who cares. He could never remember the names of musicians.

ılı.lıllılıı.ıllı

↳ currently playing …

We’ll meet again - Vera Lynn

0:56 ———•—————— 3:02

↺ << ll >> ⋮≡

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ————|—

Spencer wasn't the most likable guy in his school, he was considered “too cocky” or “too loud” most of his life. He never understood why, since most of the time he was actually quite off the record. Hell, he had his headphones on 24/7 and didn't even really talk to his friends in class. Maybe it was because when he did he was loud. He didn’t know how to regulate his volume so it was like a bass boosted rave worthy noise when he talked. It didn’t help that he played sports and was extremely competitive. Maybe that's where they got “cocky” from.. eh, who cared, he sure didn’t. He liked being confident and if that ticks them off, even better.

He was halfway to the bus stop when he realized he forgot his wallet. Shit, of course I remember a muffin but not the thing I told myself to remember (he did not in fact remind himself of his wallet earlier). He would either have to beg his friend for money or go hungry. Hah, that rhymed. It wasn’t long before he completely gave up caring about his missing wallet or half-tied shoelaces. They came undone before he even made it to the stop sign, which annoyed him, but he was in a rush this morning. He only got halfway through re-tying them before the bus showed up. He stuffed the rest of his muffin down his throat and climbed the stairs into the shitbox the school called a functioning bus. indigestion is gonna kick my ass later. He wasn’t too fond of the fact that if he ate something too fast it hurt his stomach like hell. He also wasn’t fond of people taking his seat on the bus. Which is what someone did. Again. For the 3rd time this week. Just this week.

That’s been my seat all year, what the hell man?

He sat a row behind his usual seat, thanking whatever created them that at least his second option was open. Last time the entire left side of the bus was filled with obnoxious laughing and screaming, reeking of middle schoolers and hung over seniors. That really ticked him off, mostly because almost no one sat there the entire school year, and then one day decided the right side was too good for them and they had to have his spot. I’m getting distracted, where were we? School

The bus pulled up in a sluggish, sloth like fashion. With the bus going maybe 2 mph creeping to a halt, he threw the heavy bag over his shoulder and scooted to the end of the squeaky seat. He doubted they were even going above 3 mph, 2 was already pushing it. But they eventually made it to the sidewalk, where they all got off in a single file line, like ants. He compared people to ants a lot, not because he was tall or anything or because he thought people were tiny little bugs. It was because they were all so small compared to the universe. Walking through halls, driving in traffic, riding bikes down a dirt trail, they all followed readily made paths like ants in an ant hill. And the ones that made their own paths? Well, they work three times as hard to do it. He liked people like that, instead of the ones that judged people for even just being a little out of the ordinary. The ones that bullied “weird kids” were the real weirdos. He didn’t get the point of it if we’re all just ants on a big floating space rock in the vastness of a universe our minds can’t even properly comprehend the size of. Dark matter, supernovas, black holes, white holes, stop talking about holes.

English class first period. Ugh. He loathed ELA with every fiber of his being, especially this early in the morning. Curse you, Mr.A for making my schedule hell. He loved writing though, don’t get him wrong. It’s just that the teacher made him feel trapped in the confines of a zoo. A barely engaging environment with tricks you have to perform so specifically it feels like you’re punished for a single pitter patter instead of patter pitter difference in your steps. In this class, you might as well copy and paste the words from your screen into a google doc and hit “Share & Export” in the same 4 minutes. He actually did that and got an A once. Still surprised it worked. But it didn’t work the second time, she caught on unfortunately. So he started putting them through google translate 5 times over and then fixing any mistakes. It was annoying when he got a B for those ones, and then got caught again. It was seriously killing his mood in the morning when he checked his grades, and while she didn’t change his earlier grades, she started grading him worse thinking he was plagiarizing every time.

I was.. but only a sentence or two when I couldn't figure out how to word something, okay?

He slept through most of the class today, only bothering to open his eyes when she would clear her throat or the thunderstorm rolling in spooked him awake. They were supposed to be writing an essay on “Romeo and Juliet” and the way it would be interpreted in modern day. He had finished it the day it was assigned, as usual. Maybe he was a little cocky. He never liked the play, it was too.. bitter sweet. He preferred endings where everything either ended happily, or everyone died. Both can be pretty interesting if you string it right. It can be an illusion, a dystopian world where the main character is imagining everythings a-okay, or a story where everyone dies to something like the planet exploding. His dream was mostly just him listening to music on a weird, feverishly blistered and battered meteor looking down at earth. It was speeding towards New York (at least that’s what it looked like) and as he looking down, BOOM, the eagle has landed. Black, nothingness, consumed by the darkness and the small bits of lights that rapidly appeared and disappeared. Before he knew it, the bell rang and he was scrambling up to get his backpack on and get out the door.

He said goodbye to his teacher, I’m bored, not a douche, and sped down the hall. He narrowly avoided knocking people over on his way, and barely noticed when he bumped into the lockers. That's gonna leave a bruise for sure. ouch. He finally sat in his class, about 3 minutes before the bell would actually ring for tardiness. But he liked to be there early so he didn't have to go through 10 desks of people to get to his table. He learned that lesson the hard way when his history teacher, Mr.Harvey, pointed out Spencers was in the middle of the classroom. He hated that first day so much, having to shuffle through 10 filled desks with barely enough room for his ass to fit through. And he does not have that much of an ass.

“If misinformation spreads far enough, it becomes fact. And if it becomes fact, it becomes history.” That was probably his favorite quote from his U.S. history teacher.

He said it every time the class talked about U.S. history, he was very adamant about teaching the real history even if it was technically off the books, which Spencer enjoyed. He liked learning about history as a whole. It was interesting to him. Hell, he once used an entire class period to teach them all about certain illnesses and how long it's been an issue since colonization all up until present day. It didn’t always make the most sense but he wasn't complaining about the lack of homework, personally. The bell rang, the class only felt like 5 minutes, partially because he enjoyed it and partially because he fell asleep at his desk again. He was talking about theories relating to unconfirmable events written about in people's diaries back in 1718. Or was it 1817? Fuck, I'm gonna fail this next quiz. Although he wasn’t expecting to get another theoretical history lesson in physics, who would?, he got one.

“The Big Bang theory is the theory that the universe was originally just a compressed ball of matter that, as the name sort of suggests, implod.. ed..” The teacher's voice trailed off as the announcements came over the school.

“Attention students and staff, apologies for the interruption, this is a formal warning issued by NASA as a result of an upcoming cosmic level event. As of Wednesday, May 22nd at 10:15 am, school is officially out for the rest of the week, as well as the week following. There will be an email issued shortly explaining the events and actions being taken.” The announcer's voice trembled, what the hells going on?

Everyone in the class was just as confused as he was. Some were panicked, some were on their phones not caring. He wasn't sure what to think. They were just talking about the big bang theory, now they were talking about having 2 weeks off of school for something NASA was worried about? How bad could it possibly be? He doubted it was that big of a deal. Maybe a solar flare that’ll cut the power, he joked to the student next to him. He looked terrified. And the news article opened on his phone that read “IS THE WORLD FINALLY COMING TO AN END?” didn’t help that sinking feeling Spencer was now getting. The teacher quickly assured them that it would be okay, and that he’d look to see what the issue was. Okay this might actually be bad. He hoped it was a false alarm, or something. Anything. Literally anything.

“We-.. we’re all gonna die..” the guy next to him spoke up.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Spencer demanded, expecting someone to explain whatever chaos was happening in space. He wasn't excited for the answer. The shaking, now crying person next to him slid the phone in front of Spencer and let him read. No fucking way.. Didn't he just have a dream about this? A meteor hitting earth, destroying it all in one big blast like the dinosaurs? Fuck.

Fucking shit balls.

“The Big Bang” . .

[saetoru]

𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 !! come join the most last minute new year’s party on the planet (lol) and find out who you’re new years kiss will be ;)

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 . . . please only send one ask. i’m begging you please make sure you send everything in one ask sobs i literally hate double asks they clog my inbox and stress me out :,) please only send through ask box too, no dm’s !! and make sure to only join one out of the three options !! you can pick any fandom as long as i’ve written for it (jjk, hq, bnha, tr, genshin, blue lock, demon slayer, obey me, naruto, etc.)

𝐖𝐇𝐎’𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 ??

since you’re so popular and got asked by not one, not two, but three people to join as their date, i’ll be the problem solver and pick for you ;) tell me three of your selfships and a bit about them + your relationship dynamics. i’ll pick out who your date will be with a short drabble (heavy emphasis on short lol)

✧˖*°࿐ SLOTS: FULL

𝐖𝐇𝐎’𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 ??

if you already know who you’re date is for the evening, tell me who you’re kissing at midnight and which of you leans in first, and i’ll write a small drabble about your first kiss of the year

✧˖*°࿐ SLOTS: FULL

𝐖𝐇𝐎’𝐒 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐌𝐒 ??

someone’s staring a little heavily at your instagram post from the evening, who’s it gonna be? send me a picture or picrew of yourself (it won’t be posted don’t worry) and give me a fandom. i’ll match you with someone to slide into your messages ;)

✧˖*°࿐ SLOTS: FULL

please make sure to check how many slots are available before entering and thank you all for the last year on here !! love you all and hope we can all spend another year together mwah 💋

[zer0carrds]

hello! i know you replied to my last message a month ago, so sorry for my delayed response!

i was wondering if you knew how to get the buttons to expand into info? right now i just have section breaks on mine so it doesn’t expand into the info, it just takes me to a new “page”

gotcha gotcha. i hope you don't mind me answering this publicly, i've had this question come up a few times before! bee tee dubs this thing is gonna be image heavy, so you have been warned. also ignore my tabs i was too lazy to crop everything properly. just avert your gaze.

you can do this in a number of ways, but i'm going to use the basic "buttons" option to start!!!

here's my stinky example page. so impossible to navigate. i put my sections, so i have my things. idk i think i'm silly sometimes.

we're going to click the plus sign, and click 'button'.

when you do so, it'll put your standard button on your screen and it'll expand your customization bar (i'm going to assume you're familiar with that already!!!!) where you can first add how many buttons you want.

each button has it's own drop down where you can change your title/label, add your link, change colors and all of that. you can go ahead and change your label to whatever you want. i'll be calling mine "about me" for funsies.

second, when linking your pages in any format, you do NOT have to type the whole url of your carrd site; all you need to do is [hashtag]sectiontitle. so mine will be #page1. if you're linking to other websites, you'll need to use the full https://domain url or else it may not work. but to reiterate, you just need to link the exact section name.

my button options will look something like this!

once that's done, you can continue adding your buttons and changing the labels and URLs. to do that, all you need to do is collapse your button's options, selecting "add", and adding as many buttons as you'd like. rinse and repeat.

ta da!

since i have three pages i want to link to, i'll make two more buttons this way. so my buttons tab is gonna look like this:

so yippee!!!! these will link to their respective pages. if i could do a demo video of it, i would but my quicktime is broken :prayer hands. emoji:

you can make buttons using different features:

but in order to link in text, all you have to do is [link title](link here) in your text box.

you can to that method anywhere you use text, so you can sprinkle it in wherever you want.

IMPORTANT THINGS 2 MEMBER:

you don't have to use the full carrd url to link your pages. just use only your section title, #page1 for example.

have fun with customizing the colors. you can adjust the width of buttons as you feel, resize them, etc. you can make some rlly cute navigation with your different button options! i'll most likely make a guide about customization later on!!!

you can make as many of these as you want. you can stack 'em or keep them in a default row. up 2 u.

lmao i hope this was helpful! sorry it's image heavy i just wanted to make sure i covered as much as i could <33333 if you need clarification, please don't hesitate to let me know (^:

[slutforstabbings-archive]

now i’m super curious, what’s ur hcs for alt!corey?

Alt!Corey Cunningham HC's

prompted by the conversation started here. Sorry this took so long!

tagging @rebel-blue @nachtmahr666 @vanellygal I never know who all to tag so if you want me to tag you specifically every time, please lmk!

Music:

Corey grew up listening to the radio and whatever music Joan put on. His mom is probably in her early 50’s in the movie, and she seems like one of those people who is terrible but likes and uses sweet nice wholesome things to hide behind, so she probably only listened to squeaky clean and boring pop music, and I think that would start Corey on a path towards heavy music, distorted music, music with dark themes, anything other than what Joan liked. He finds a lot of pop music to be insincere and he hates that.

WURG seems like an oddball station from what we hear of it in the movie and what it’s mentioned as playing in the book, so Corey definitely likes some punk and metal and garage just from the radio. But he doesn’t really know that’s what it is, genres and subcultures are kind of lost on him. And he doesn’t really realize he only knows music that’s 35-60 years old.

Personally as someone who grew up listening to a lot of oldies radio specifically, I know they’re really bad about identifying old songs cause they think you know the artist and title already. So I’m gonna go ahead and say for a lot of his life Corey doesn’t know the name or artist of most of the songs he likes, and he probably doesn’t realize he likes multiple songs from the same artist, so he doesn't have a favorite band. He has to learn to dig into a catalog and listen to full albums as an adult because that was never something he was introduced to as a child.

His mom obviously put heavy parental controls on his computer time, looked through his browser history, etc so I don’t think he was really able to explore his music taste probably until he got a smart phone and more privacy in his internet usage, which wouldn’t have been until he was an adult. I think Joan would have wanted him to have a phone so she could call him but would’ve kept him with a non-smart phone with no data until it basically wasn’t an option anymore, so he got his first smart phone when he was probably like 17-19, and that’s when his music exploration could really begin.

Even pre-accident Corey is sad and lonely and angry so he’s drawn to those lyrical themes. He has very angsty taste. But he also likes interesting time signatures and weird textures. He's a math and science guy and he thinks it's really cool when musicians approach their craft in a mathematical or experimental way. Post- Michael I think Corey recedes into the heaviest and most anguished parts of his music taste. Songs that used to make him cry, songs that pump him up, songs that he used to imagine were written for people much more badass than him, whatever that might be. Devastating vocal delivery, heart wrenching lyrics, chugging guitars, all three if he can get them.

BAND LIST (trying to go with the most popular examples so you can get the gist of the aesthetic I’m picturing lol):

From the Radio - Rolling Stones, Doors, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, The Kinks, The Clash, Talking Heads, all the obvious legacy early metal and punk bands. 

Pre-Accident - American Football, Sunny Day Real Estate, Hum, Modest Mouse, Smashing Pumpkins, Descendents, Brand New, New Order, Mazzy Star, The Smiths, Hella

Post-Accident, Pre-Michael - Grunge big 4, but his favorite is Pearl Jam, Pixies, Melvins, Tool, Joy Division, Deftones, Sonic Youth, I Hate Sex, Garbage, Depeche Mode, Nine Inch Nails

Post- Michael - Electric Wizard, Windhand, clipping., Lingua Ignota, Full of Hell

Fashion:

I see a lot of different ages thrown around for how long Corey's mom dressed him, but novelization canon is he started dressing himself at 13. I think it's definitely still the case that his mom buys and picks out most of his clothes for a long time, but I think he slowly wears her down on letting him pick things until his wardrobe is mostly his choices filtered through her. But because of that filter it's still never quite him.

When the other kids started getting into subcultures, Corey watched with envy. He didn't have a particular favorite style, and he wouldn't have known what to call it if he did, he just liked the idea that you could say something to the world with your clothes, and draw people who agreed with you to you and push people who didn't away. The idea that you could form a community around how you dress. All he wants is community.

Corey's never really considered tattoos or piercings because he knows his mother would absolutely lose her mind if he "damaged" himself that way. The only thing he's thought of is that his dad had a tattoo of a duck, so maybe he could get a tattoo of a duck in the same place. I think that if Corey was more interested in tattoos than that , pre-accident he would be a black linework only kind of guy, he wants to be an engineer, he likes the kind of sparse, design-y, almost technical drawing aspect of plain linework tattoos. Post-accident, pre-Michael, he' definitely an American Traditional/Neo-Trad guy. It's straight forward, it's classic, it's low-key. Post-Michael Corey is the kind of guy who gets big blackout stripes or brush strokes for the experience. Because blackouts hurt and because they make people, even other tattooed people, say why the fuck would you get that? Post-Michael Corey would also so get a prince albert sorry.

I can't see him wearing make up, even just eyeliner. Seems too pretty for him I guess, like he's an aesthetically simple guy in a lot of ways, and presents in such a casual masculine way, it just doesn't seem like him. But I can see him painting his nails black every once in a while. Not any other colors but black for sure.

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: Tracy Seaside Orchard and Farm - Part 13 (Chapter 7)

Summary: Alternate Universe. Gordon is a farmer. And he seems to have nothing to do with International Rescue. Now on AO3!   Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Family.

*Warnings have been updated to include phobias and panic attacks* Please be aware for this chapter. The section with the panic attack will be marked for you to skip, but note that this story will continue to explore the aftermath.

I do think this will answer some of those pending questions you all have. :)

New to this fic? Please be aware for this story that parts are posted in sections here on tumblr before I upload the chapter to Ao3. Chapter 6 has been updated on Ao3 and will bring you to caught up. Chapter 7 is long enough on its own, and we will likely continue with this length as this story continues and concludes, now that we are in the heavier material. I should probably tell you, the links below are right. When you get to Ao3, the prologue has thrown off the chapter count. 

Prologue here Chapter 1: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Ao3 Chapter 2: Part 4 | Part 5  | AO3 Chapter 3: Part 6  | Part 7 |  Ao3 Chapter 4: Part 8 | Part 9 | Ao3 Chapter 5: Part 10 | Part 11  | Ao3 Chapter 6 Part 12 | Ao3 Chapter 7: Part 13 | Ao3 [You are Here]

A/N: There’s still so much love.

It’s been awhile since I acknowledged thank yous - so to @gumnut-logic for the Virgil sanity check in this one and @the-original-sineater​ for having to keep this whole concept quiet for so long and providing feedback. 

I’ve put this one on Ao3 directly again because it’s another 3 almost 4K words at once. 

Gonna go hide now, so I hope you like

*****

Chapter 7

Virgil considered himself a rather level-headed guy in most cases, but that was only because he settled himself in his projects. Honestly, anyone would seem level-headed in comparison to Scott. But working had always helped him clear his mind, and he appreciated having a similar mind to talk to during his endeavors. At home his never-ending project was Thunderbird Two with her constant upgrades because she deserved the best. Meanwhile, Brains’ pragmatic focus was a blessing for re-grounding himself when he needed it. Here, Everett wasn’t necessarily an objective bystander, but he promised Virgil he could compartmentalize his loyalty to Gordon if it meant that Virgil could get his feelings off his chest. The radio had taken most of them, the tractor the last quarter (even Scott  would say he was fine to work on the heavy machinery, and it had really needed its steering upgraded), leaving Everett to provide an ear for the last 2% of his frustration while they worked on the final preparations for the party.

Regardless of the tension between them, Virgil would never risk the success of the event when it obviously mattered so much to Gordon and the rest of the people who’d offered him their friendship and hospitality. He was determined to get the stereo working for them and for his own satisfaction, so though he had a plan B, it was not an option. He had his heart set on getting the rustic antique functioning.

How far he’d come.

 And so much had changed. 

He had not known what to make of Scott’s suggestion that he visit Gordon of all people to heal from his injuries. At first, he’d been resistant, happily blissful in his ignorance of the comings and goings in the other man’s life. His brother’s idea was insane and laughable at best. As far as he was concerned, they had the finest of care facilities on Tracy Island and on the mainland if needed, and what could Gordon possibly do for him anyway? And what did Scott know of Gordon? Virgil hadn’t wanted the glimpse beyond the curtain.

“You’ll understand.”

 “No way.” 

“It’s already arranged.”

 “It’s not happening.” 

But it had, and he hadn’t been happy. It took an ultimatum and wrangling by all three of his siblings to just - give it a try. Before he could think about it, the next time on terra firma was stepping onto land he’d never seen, of an estate his father’s son had apparently built in the wake of the quarrel that destroyed them. If you could call it that. It was more that Gordon had ravaged the heart of something that couldn’t be fixed or replaced, then left, like a coward, and never came back. The Gordon he once knew, even the one after the hydrofoil accident, could never be so heartless. 

But the estate was magnificent.

Read More on Ao3

[eternally-anomalous]

𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒.

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies?

📚 BOOKS — what level of education has your oc most recently completed/is currently in (GED, undergraduate, grad school, phd, etc)?

🎻 VIOLIN — does your oc play any instruments? what is their skill level (beginner/intermediate/advanced/virtuoso/etc)?

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐒.

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming?

🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise?

🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄.

🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE — what is your oc's favorite holiday?

🐶 DOG FACE — does your oc have any pets?

🐉 DRAGON — what is your oc's favorite mythical creature?

🌴 PALM TREE — does your oc have a green thumb? do they enjoy gardening?

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒.

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits?

🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits?

💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits?

💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them?

💚 GREEN HEART — does your oc prefer being inside or outside?

🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone's heart and/or broken someone's trust?

𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄.

😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life?

🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

did you just copypaste the whole thing?

🎮- EA enjoys taking care of their leeches, studying and observing their creatures, cyberbullying people. But you already knew this so it's time for the guy I never talk about to finally get talked about. NREs favorite hobbies are watching movies and tv shows made by the ancients, talking to the scavengers and ignoring descent whenever he messages

📚- all iterator have a PhD on everything. I don't think they have any form of formal education for Iterators, considering you can just put that information directly into their memories

🎻- I don't think any of them play an instrument

ADHESIVE BANDAGE (I couldn't find the emoji)- EA has mild chronic pain from detaching his puppet from the arm so violently. And definitely some neurodiveregencies but I'm no expert in that so I'm not gonna give them a specific one

💯- hmmm.. 1.)EAs eyes are naturally white and are only yellow because the activated deathloop is on them 2.) The reason they can modify themselves is because the later added taboo of not making new blueprints caused a conflict in the code and disabled it (I don't know how coding works at all but if mods can do this then so can the limiters) 3.) They also absorb oxygen with the fabricator arms in addition to eating and making things

💤-EA is a pretty light sleeper most of the time, unless they have someone they trust there. They mostly only sleep to wait out cycles, which is a bit of a problem because they don't actually go below the clouds that often and often cant sleep anyway so they stare into space listening to music instead

🔱- Xbox like water(yes)

🔶- EA doesn't know cpr but could still stop you from choking (by sticking their mycelia down your throat). They can fix wounds that would just require some extra tissue or metal easily enough but if it's a damaged organ or something complex to fix they would either need "blueprints" (need better word..) of you or to eat you first (and make the mycelia make blueprints of you that way) (obviously the second option is not desirable)

🚫- EA doesn't drink or smoke but they did inject themselves with karma flower juice once and would do it again if left with nothing else to do for a long time

🌲- they dont really do holidays, as they were all invented by the ancients

🐶- EA has the leeches. Some iterators would consider NREs scav friends pets but they very much arent

🐉- EAs favorite mythical creature is the fog demon. NRE likes unicorns

🌴- EA forgets plants are alive, so no. They would end up killing them even if they tried

❤️- let's see.. EA is very determined when she has a goal, would do almost anything for those they care about and

🤍- has a lot of curiosity especially about creatures, rather willing to take risks(to their puppet) (this can be good or bad I think so neutral), a bit hesitant sometimes I guess

💔- way too eager to resort to murder, likes to cyberbully, even if they don't want to kill you they will still stand back and let you die, even if they could have stopped it (if they don't care about you)

💘- their ecosystem and dew

💚- outside, they spend most of their time outside in their city taking care of the leeches

🖤- EA killed glories (as most of you know) they haven't broken anyone's heart or trust.. yet. NREs fight with descent over what to do to help skywriter is part of what caused descent to work constantly

😊 - honestly neither EA or me really know this one. They want to spend time with dew, get multicolored leeches, continue to observe evolution..

🤔- EA taps on their carapace a lot, uses ellipsis often.. rather rude a lot of the time.. what exactly is this one asking? (Needs clarification)

[vannymetalfamily]

4/16/23

Scream 6 isn't trash!?!? That 's bullshit!!1!1!!1 It CAN'T be!!1!! There's no fucking way in hell that the sixt sequel of ANYTHING can be any good!1!!!1 But there it is, the sixth sequel of Scream being sort of good just to annoy me. My brother was right and I fucking hate it. 

That's basically all I did today. It's sunday what the fuck did you expected. My brother Paolo said it was good, I called him a liar, I forced Dee to come watch it with me. Now, don't come with your stupid bullshit off "If you hate him so much why did you invite him to the movies?" Because let me tell you that he was NOT my first option. Paolo had already seen it, Eugene it's out of town with his stupid ass girlfriend, I would just scare Diana off by inviting her here, Lif it's busy with some…Cemetery shit?!?!? (Don't worry, no one died…that I know of), and I'm not going with Heavy ever again. The little shit talks during the whole movie!!!!1!1!!1!1! Who the fuck does that?!?!1?!? So I had to go with Dee. 

The stupid pretentious asshole. I swear to god one of these days I'm gonna kill him!!1!1! He is a good for nothing smart ass!1!!1!!1! He always thinks he is right about everything and wants everything to go his way or he gets really annoying. I swear to god!!!1!1!!1 Every time one of his plans goes slightly off of what he intended he becomes more off an asshole than what he actually is!!! He tried to play the guitar once and when he realized that it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be he became a wine baby for three days!1!!!1 I HAD to be with him during those days!!! Do you know how difficult it is to cheer him up!?!?!? And I couldn't just leave him in that state!!!!1!1 He is my…affiliated and it would be fucking depressing to leave him like that. That it's NOT to say we are friends. We're not. I only hang up with him because we're business partners. I hate him and hope he dies!!1!1!!!!1!

…

Ok, I don't want him to die. As much as I hate to admit it, he is a good listener. And without him I wouldn't have anyone to hang out with during gym class. He is not that bad if you think about it! He has some good stuff. It's good at video games, helps me when I'm in trouble, sticks with me even when it isn't convenient…for some unknown reason, pretty sure he hates me too.And I would kinda miss our stupid little mlp watch parties. I would kinda miss him.

…

Don't tell him that

I don't even know what's the point I'm trying to make here!1!1! 

Take a picture I took of him today. We ate lunch together before watching the movie. It wasn't really good.

[askthechronoverse]

Chapter Eleven: A Loose End or a Strand

Last Chapter •||• Next Chapter

"NO. STOP."

The fox and royal cat turned to the sound of the desperate voice. Coming down the stairs at a suspicious speed was Richard, followed by a half tired Rex.

"Rick! Where have you two been? I've been looking for you both!" Unikitty stepped forward, but Richard rushed past her and snatched the memory out of Doctor Fox's hand. He stood still for a moment, expressionless, then threw the memory back in the jar. The whole time this occurred, Doctor Fox tried to grab the memory back. Richard held it too tightly in his psychic grip for her to take it.

"Did you see the memory, princess?" The normally monotone voice of her advisor sounded dead and broken. The facade of a calm brick was fully dissolved now, giving way to someone who could barely keep himself together. "Answer me."

"Yes." Unikitty tried to put a paw on one of the studs on top of his head, but he floated back towards Rex.

"Well, RJ‽ What now‽" The brick's breath was heavy with fear. "It's too late!"

"Rick… please tell me what's going on." The cat was also fearful, scared even further by the frantic actions of her advisor. He had already moved to the Memory Machine and started to type something into the touchscreen.

Passcode accepted…

Launching Project Lotus…

Options:

Launch Full Redaction Protocol

Start Lotus Routine

Launch Debrief Sequence

The brick was still, suspended in the air for what felt like a lifetime. A few stray teardrops fell to the floor. An invisible hand pressed “Launch Full Redaction Protocol”. A confirmation screen came up.

"I have to be the only one." He spoke with uncertainty, voice creaking like the floorboards of a long abandoned home. "This is my burden to carry." Before he could confirm the launch of the protocol, a voice stopped him.

"No. You don't. You were gonna let me in, remember?" Rex walked over to the brick and put a hand on the left hand stud. "Let her in, too." The brick sighed, his breath heavy and pained.

"I have seen both of your graves. I have seen every person I have gotten close to fall into holes in the ground. The sky grows dark… It's Armommageddeon all over again." Unikitty’s voice was cracking under the stress. "I've never seen anything like that before that terrible time and I never want to see that again!"

"From what I know of the wedding incident, I regret to inform you that your statement is incorrect." Richard closed his eyes, which showed an age that seemed far older than he let on within the lines of his face.

"How?" Unikitty's voice quivered. Deep down in the part of her brain where she hid negative thoughts, something was stirring, a sleeping dragon that had been awakened.

"Princess… I want to think back. Go before Armommageddeon. Before your friend here staggered onto the scene with some mystery piece glued to his back, begging for praise for being ‘special’. What do you remember?" He furrowed his eyebrows. Why was he doing this?

"The first thing I remember is… waking up in a large white room. There were nurses surrounding me, excited I woke up. They asked if I remembered who I was and told me I was their princess. The princess of Cloud Cuckoo Land." Unikitty frowned sharply. She strained to think back any further, a lightbulb cracking above her horn. Richard shook, but there was relief in his eyes. "I… can't remember anything further back."

"Maybe this is for the best then. Put all this out of your mi-"

"Actually, I… I remember one other thing. I remember… just three words. 'Be the light.' It's why… Why I am the way I am today." Her pupils shrank, the last thing she saw in the lab being the tired face of her advisor holding an expression of shocked flattery.

"No! You need to leave me! The kingdom can only exist if you are still around! Get to the castle! The kingdom can't lose you, Unikitty! I can't lose you!" The ground fell away completely and Richard seemed to lose his ability to float over the hole. A look fell on the brick's face: one of an uneasy acceptance. "Please… be the light in the darkness you have always been, my princess. Don't let the loss of the Unikingdom darken your spirit. That's my last piece of advice for you." He began to fall, tears streaming from his large eyes that slowly closed as his form was overtaken by shadows. Unikitty rushed to grab him, but he fell too fast to be grabbed.

"Richard! I can't reach you! Please reach out to me!" By the time she shouted this, he had been swallowed by the darkness. She backed up toward the castle and started to cry. They were gone: all her friends, her kingdom, her brother… and the brick who had been like a father to her for years. The fear was turning her a ghostly white. She looked around her and saw that the darkness had claimed the rest of the kingdom. She was alone.

The cat was no longer in the lab, but in her bedroom. She was in her bed with an ice pack on her head. Richard floated by her side and Rex sat at the foot of the bed.

"Be the light. Those were your last words to me, weren't they." She asked softly.

"It was all a dre-" Richard paused as he noticed Rex glaring at him. "Yes. I thought I was never going to see you again, princess."

"So the Unikingdom I keep seeing?"

"It's… it's been gone for a long time. Cloud Cuckoo Land was not your first time running a kingdom. You were young when you took the throne of the… oh, let's call it the Old Unikingdom. I was somehow able to prove myself worthy of being your advisor to your parents around the time you were still an infant. I wasn't actually worthy of it then. I am even less worthy of it now, if I'm being honest with myself. I worked with you, taught you what you needed to do to become a good ruler. Then, after you had brought peace to the kingdom… the Old Unikingdom fell. I thought you were dead, princess. I barely held on to hope." He could barely float at this point, choosing to land between Unikitty and Rex.

"You seemed close to losing hope in that vision… memory." Unikitty put her paw on one of his studs. He let her do this this time around.

"Eventually, Doctor Fox's voice fell silent as well. I think our talk made her lose her resolve and panic. Between Hawkodile's rage at the situation and Puppycorn's cries for you and desperate attempts to make everyone happy… I suppose it doesn't matter at this point." The brick sighed heavily. "I can't understand why I'm still here. Why did I survive and get to tell you all of this��"

"Why didn't you want Doctor Fox to see the memory?"

"That's part of my duties for Project Lotus. When the queen told us you didn't remember the Fall, we made a pact to never let you remember. I suppose I failed on that front, since I'm not hiding anything now. However, she rebuilt several devices to help keep the truth from you. The Memory Machine is the main piece to the puzzle. The others sacrificed their memories to keep you happy."

"What about you?" Unikitty's heart broke as her loyal friend began to cry.

"I… wasn't as lucky. I… I knew too much. It would have killed me to take all that away, so I became the only soul in the Unikingdom who knew that we were all starting over. The citizens didn't remember anything to begin with." He sounded exhausted, almost shrinking as he spoke. "Doctor Fox couldn't understand why back then. I just consider it to be good fortune that the citizens that were left from the old days couldn't remember the Fall."

"Why don't I remember anything?"

"That isn't something I can tell you, my princess. You always had an avoidant personality when it came to unpleasantness. You once tried to separate your anger from yourself using some invention of Doctor Fox's design. I assume you made yourself forget somehow. I believe the only reason you remember what you do now is because of a certain man who had attempt to destroy the world in the exact same way the Old Unikingdom fell." He shot a sideways glance over to Rex, who pointed to himself before avoiding Richard's eye contact. Richard floated up slowly, turning away from Unikitty. "Rest for a while. I know you have more questions, but we have a lifetime for me to answer them. I'd rather not see you be stressed any further." He gave Rex a sideways glance and looked to the door. Before the human could get up, Unikitty grabbed his denim vest.

“RJ, stay a sec? I’ve been alone for this whole thing. I just want someone here with me.” The man nodded and sat back down. By this point, Richard had left the room completely. “I was going to ask you about how to handle my visions, but if they aren’t visions… How do you handle the bad memories? The memories of the… really bad time?”

“One day at a time. Ya aren’t gonna make the memories go away. Well, you kinda did, but now that they’re there… ya can’t put the genie back in the bottle. You have one soul who remembers everything you can talk to. I know nothing, but I didn’t make a pact to forget everything either. I can afford to hear ya vent. You have a support system, which is more than I thought I had.” Rex played with a piece of fluff that he found on the bedspread. “Just know the world ain’t ending, alright?”

“I was scared I was going to lose all of you… even you.” Unikitty’s ears went back.

“Really? Guess I made that much of an impact on ya, huh?” Rex laughed softly.

“You became a real friend, RJ. I never thought I’d say that about the guy who caused Armommageddeon, but I’m saying that. You are my friend and I don’t want to lose you.” The cat’s big blue eyes were on the verge of tears.

“Hey now. Let’s not get sappy, okay?” He took the watery eyes as an invitation for a hug and pulled his oldest friend in a soft embrace. “I’m okay. The world isn’t ending and you’re not alone. I’ll be here to remind you of that every single day I still have breath, if you need me to.”

“Please do that. That’s one thing I never want to forget.”

[random2908]

Ok, uninstalled my fucking dishwasher. What a fucking chore.

I got through it by telling myself I do shit like this at my job all the time. Plumbing, electrical, wrenches, screwdrivers, dragging heavy junk across the floor. It’s just work, nothing to be afraid of, just get in there and do it.

Menards said if I could uninstall it, and install the new one, for $90 they’d do delivery of the new one and haul-away of the old one. But they don’t do any installations that involve electrical. (I don’t know if I would have had better luck with Home Depot, but I know like three different people who recently ran into Home Depot dishwashers being on back-order and having to wait many months. Menards had them in stock.)

I’m pretty sure the electrical will be compatible, I’m pretty sure even if your home has a wall plug for the dishwasher (mine does not...) you still have to connect your cable to the dishwasher in the first place. Whatever, I’ll figure it out and it’ll be fine.

The big concern is if I’ll have to replace some of the hoses. Mainly I’m concerned about the input hose, which was like swagelok or some shit. Which is typically single-use, although this is a plastic one and you can sometimes fudge it by tightening really hard. But only if you have the exact matching other end, exact same brand and all. At which point, if you aren’t sure, it’s better to cut your hose and put a new connector on, or just give up on the whole thing. Anyway, it might be fully incompatible, judging by what I was seeing in online tutorials, in which case I just need to wait until I get the new one and then figure it out.

The output hose looked more like the tutorials, but on the other hand I disconnected it at the garbage disposal, not at the dishwasher. (Like both tutorials said to do.) So I might have one more deinstallation step in front of me, assuming the new one doesn’t come with any hoses at all (it probably doesn’t).

Well. I fixed my dryer (I think); I’m more than halfway to fixing this (counting “planning” as the first big step, it’s a three step process and I’ve done two). After this, all that’s left is somehow getting someone to come out and fix the broken circuit breaker. I’m so not doing that myself on a breaker box that doesn’t have a Mains switch. And then cleaning and calling the realtor. Honestly I’m probably gonna call the realtor before I get the circuit breaker fixed because a realtor might have the connections (...as it were) to get it done. It’s mostly impossible to find contractors on my own right now, they all have several-months waiting lists and aren’t taking small jobs with clients they don’t know--and that was already true around here for electricians (specifically) before the pandemic, it’s worse now. Before the pandemic you could at least sometimes find a general contractor who was willing to do some simple electrical; now you can’t even find that.

Oh, and the realtor will 100% make me replace the refrigerator, I’m sure of it. So that’s one more thing. The realtor themself can replace the carpet, and the vinyl flooring in the kitchen, and repaint everything, if they want to (I’m sure they will, I think the vinyl is original and I know the paint and the carpet are also 20-ish years old) but that definitely falls more under their purview than mine. They might even replace the countertops--I would if I were them, 25-year-old laminate is going to be a harder sell than just about any other option, especially since there are stains that I don’t think I can get out.