#i love these two and all i can do is make them suffer

[pressplay-if]

To think I was worried about this IF ending up too short for anyone to be interested.

The hospital section in this Chapter alone is only getting longer and longer. I keep thinking of new important details and little extra scenes to add just to complete the psych ward experience (TM).

Some interesting details about Zima and MC's past mental state below cut (might be important):

Zima has now had their first interview section, mainly determining the details of the nature of their past involvement with MC. There's a total of four options. If you enjoyed the choice of Stevie having a crush on MC, you're gonna love this.

MC can be hospitalized due to either depression or social anxiety, as these are the only conditions that I feel wholly comfortable writing. I considered also offering a combination of the two, but ultimately decided against it, as the MC's oast mental illness will eventually influence the future of the story and I want those paths to be very distinct and different.

Please mind that, while everyone who suffers from mental illness of any kind has their own totally subjective and individual experience with it, I'm writing social phobic and depressive MCs with certain "set" symptoms. Here are some set elements:

Social phobia MCs experience physical symptoms and selective mutism. They are nervous and quiet, so all their interactions, especially in the beginning of their hospitalization (even when picking the antagonistic options) will reflect that. So if you're wondering why MC seems to be acting meek or "submissive", it's bc of their affliction not allowing them to be as outspoken as they might like to be. Social phobia MCs have a general exhaustion of life, given they live in constant stress, but they do not self-harm. They are prone to sleep disturbances.

Depressive MCs experience listlessness, irritation (which can makes them more prone to acting aggressively), feelings of self-loathing and dissatisfaction. They have a heightened need for sleep and will report not wanting to get out of bed. They can, in fact, choose to be currently practicing self-harm, or to have done so in the past. However, even if they choose to have never self-harmed, they will report thoughts of suicide.

Either MC will be medicated during their time in the clinic. It's a small text section and a slight bit vague as my medical knowledge, despite my research efforts, is limited. The MC will get to choose how to feel about the drugs and the potential side effects, though.

Either MC will be able to additionally describe symptoms indicating neurodivergence.

Either MC can choose to be underage smoking, drinking or both during this time. Or neither, of course.

So thanks for reading all that! Small disclaimer: I know very well that the depression and social phobia symptoms I chose to write about are NOT universally representative. This all might sound like the routes are very set, but there's actually a ton of customization going on in this chapter, so don't you worry! (Also it's gonna be rly important for the future of the band)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hii i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but if you areeee

Can you write smth about Ford x reader where they obviously got a crush on each other (but they dont confess they’re shyly dumb) but the crush got bigger bc reader decides to peck Ford on the cheek as a “Thank you” bc he helped them with smth, yanno yanno :33

Ps: I really really love your writing waaa keep up the good work!!

The crush you harbour on Ford and him on you was the least subtle thing ever, everyone could see the way you looked at each other as though the other hung the stars in the sky; you were both smitten kittens but were too scared to admit it for one reason or another.

You didn’t know when exactly you started having a crush on Ford, you merely assumed that was always the case ever since you met the man with the beautiful brown eyes, and you were perfectly content with that but what you weren’t content with was how everyone wanted you to confess.

‘He doesn’t like me like that, I’m not sure he likes anyone within a romantic aspect.’ You’d use as your excuse whenever anyone brings up the fact that you had yet to bear your heart to Ford.

‘Then you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.’ They’d respond and you could only look at them as though they’ve grown a second head. However they spoke the truth as Ford was equally as infatuated with you and would find himself pushing back the work he didn’t think required all his attention, all in favour of spending time with you whether it be star gazing or anomaly hunting.

Ford couldn’t remember the last time he felt light on his feet, head in the clouds and as though he was thirty years younger then he actually was and it was all thanks to you. While he wants to confess he found himself unable to do so when he looked into your eyes and found everything he could ever wish for within them; only to end up speechless as your eyes flickered with multiple emotions at once as he remained stood still as a statue, staring at you with a fondness within his eyes as you spoke random things to fill the silence.

This half attempts to confess -or lack there of an attempt- was enough to annoy the people close to you both as Stanley wants to put his head through a wall, Dipper vowed to himself to never be this bad and Mabel was on the verge of screaming at you both to kiss and get it over with at this point; the slow burn was killing her with how hesitant or chocked up you both become in each others presence.

They just wanted you two to cut the bullshit and start being a couple, solely just to make up for the months they’ve all have to suffer from seeing you both obviously pine for one another.

So currently you and Ford were looking for a so called ‘flying pig that may or may not be waddles parent or ancestor’ as Mabel had said to you both that very morning. So when Ford asked dipper if this was true, you swore you’ve never seen a boy sweat as much as Dipper did when he tried his hardest to convince you both that such a creature exists within the woods; you and Ford shared a look that spoke your unwillingness to believe, before agreeing to go out and look for this flying pig that may or may not be waddles’s ancestor.

‘Even if this flying pig is waddles’s ancestor, wouldn’t waddles also have wings by that logic?’ You asked.

‘Not necessarily my dear as the wings could be a hereditary trait that can skip multiple generations and appear in someone later down the line.’ Ford replied as he pushed up his glasses that were slipping down his nose, ‘however even I have to admit that this flying pig phenomena being real is slim to none despite everything else we’ve encountered here.’ He adds and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Then the billboard should read as this: Gravity falls, we’ve got everything to satisfy a diehard supernatural fanatic, just no flying pigs.’ You said in a goofy voice as you playfully nudge Ford in the side as he smiled softly, looking at you and feeling his heart become full; but before he could say anything a demonic squeal echoed throughout the forest causing you both to stop just as the birds stopped chirping.

Ford instinctively stood in front of you protectively as you tried to deduct where the blood curdling squeal came from. ‘What was that?’ You whispered my resting your chin on Ford’s shoulder as he reached for the gun at his hip upon instinct.

‘No clue dearest but I believe we might’ve found our anomaly.’ Ford replied lowly for only you to hear, only for the sound of wings beating filled your ears as a plump silhouette of a winged creature could be seen from a distance. You couldn’t help stop yourself from commenting ‘that could be a thousand things before it could be a flying pig-‘ just before you could finish the sentence the plump silhouette must’ve spotted you as it started flying towards you both at high speed; it was downright frighting.

‘FLYING PIG!’ You screamed the moment the figure got close enough to identify as both yourself and Ford ran began to run away from it as fast as your legs could carry you. ‘And here I thought Mabel had eating too much of that edible glitter and hallucinated.’ You added as Ford quickly took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulled you with him to hide behind a random tree, pulling you in close to his chest where you could hear his heart against your ear.

The demonic flying pig flew past you and it was them did you notice how massive those wings were for a creature that was of the same size of an average adult pig, but still it was scary to see a pig with teeth as sharp as razors; what was even more scary was the fact that pigs would eat anything and everything. You cuddled up closer to Ford instinctively as he held you close in order to comfort you. ‘It’s okay my dear, it’s gone now.’ He whispered against your head, kissing it as his hands rubbed up and down your back. ‘It must’ve gotten mad that we were within its territory and felt the need to scare us off.’

‘Well consider this officially scared off.’ You muttered against his turtlenecks finding the honest comfort and protection within his scent as you allowed it to invade your senses.

‘We’ll go back home and forget that we were almost flying pig food and watch some movies while drinking hot chocolate. How does that sound my dear?’ Ford asked and before his brain could comprehend what had happened, you had kissed his cheek and Ford felt his cheeks blossom with heat and his eyes widened.

‘That sounds perfect as long as I’m with you to do all of that of course.’ You replied softly as you looked at Ford with a soft, almost pleading expression and Ford felt his resolve crumble to dust as he averts his gaze from you.

‘I would love nothing more my dear.’ He admits and you were quick to clutch his hand in yours and drag him from your hiding place and begin your walk back to the shack, all the while keeping your wits about you in regards to one flying demon pig. ‘Then it’s a date!’ You exclaimed as you could hear Ford choke on nothing behind you, which only made you smile.

You’ll tell Mabel that you didn’t see a flying pig, but got a date out of trying to make up for the disappointment.

[antianakin]

recently i've seen people say that obi-wan emotionally abused and neglected anakin; i've gotten so used to fanon woobifying that this threw me off guard because it's so extreme in the opposite direction. although there was conflict especially in aotc, that seems the product of those specific circumstances (padme and all that she entails for anakin) exacerbating frustration on both ends. in rots obi-wan's last encounter with anakin before the shit went down was him explicitly saying that despite anakin's struggles with the council, he's proud of him.

i was wondering if you have some idea why people might think this: is there something in the novelizations, the clone wars tv series or anything that suggests it? thanks!

I haven't read the novelizations, so I can't speak to that, but there's absolutely never anything in the films or shows that would ever back up this claim.

People just really sympathize with Anakin and will do just about anything to remove any blame from him, so they'll find other people to blame instead of him, which often ends up Obi-Wan or the Council or just the Jedi as a whole. It doesn't help that Jedi criticism has become more popular and keeps popping up in places and now we're starting to get entire shows where the whole point of the story is to criticize the Jedi and blame them for their own genocide (The Acolyte) or to exonerate Anakin of all of his crimes on the basis of "love" and "fate" (Ahsoka).

A lot of the Jedi criticism comes from a lack of understanding of what the Jedi's teachings and practices actually are, which leads to interpretations of the Jedi as a people who forbid showing or even FEELING love towards someone else. Since Obi-Wan is supposed to be a fairly good and consummate Jedi, then if you believe in this interpretation of the Jedi, you can also then assume that Obi-Wan is refusing to show any love or affection to Anakin, which could be considered neglectful and/or abusive. If you're someone who already interprets the Jedi this way, it's easier to watch AOTC and view their dynamic (which IS intended to be a little rocky due to the circumstances) as proof that their relationship has been negative this entire time (which, while it's a bad faith reading of the film, is sort-of understandable given that AOTC is not the most well-written of movies and Obi-Wan and Anakin's dynamic suffers in it).

So, basically, this interpretation of Obi-Wan is a combination of a desire to remove blame from Anakin for all of his crimes, Jedi criticism remaining a really popular fan interpretation, and AOTC having some unfortunate writing choices when it came to these two characters. None of that makes it true, though.

[woncon]

part three: sex on the beach

pairing: poly!stray kids x gn!reader

You only have one fan at home. It's a cruel thing. But the water is for everyone! The lake water is cooling, and you can relax with your boys. You can lay out on the mat, compete in swimming, or even make offers that wouldn't be appropriate for a grandmother swimming nearby to hear. There's a lot going on this day: injuries, bets and a kiss fest. The nine of you brushing the edge of indecency, like waves on the rocks off the shore. It's really wholesome.

genre: mini-series, fluff, suggestive, crack/humor, summer fic, established relationship, polyamory, a day on the beach

warnings: minho finally gets sex on the beach, making out as a problem-solving technique, more kisses, jeongin likes to ask questions today

word count: 5K

a/n: yay! it's done! thanks for @honeytwo for her committed work, and of course, thanks to all of you for reading this summer fic! <3

[part 1] / [part 2]

summer go loco / stray kids mlist

While you were sliding into the water, Hyunjin attacked Chan not far away.

"Ah! Hyunne, no!" spat the older man, gasping. "I'm drowning in your spaghetti hair!"

"Oh, no!" giggled Hyunjin as he swung away with his tines flapping like mops. "If you really want to drown, drown in my love for you!"

Chan made a suffering sound and hid his face in his palms.

"Chan is weak when it comes to compliments," Seungmin stated in a whisper, having been given the humble role of Jeongin's pusher. "He's weak at other times too. Like when I loaded his barbell. He couldn't lift it because he's old."

Jeongin couldn't take it anymore, he asked.

"Do you really have a granddaddy kink?"

"No, I just like to tease Chan. Who told you that?"

“Hyunjin.”

"I'm gonna fuck his gossipy ass."

"You'd have to get him to talk to you first, wouldn't you?"

As if sensing that the conversation was about him - and his butt - Hyunjin glanced towards them. He smiled affectionately at Jeongin, but looked gloomily at Seungmin, and then took his gaze away. 

Jeongin patted Seungmin on the shoulder.

"Shall I throw you in the water?"

Jeongin immediately withdrew his hand. "Why?"

"Maybe that would cheer me up." Seungmin made a thoughtful, questioning face.

"I'd rather climb off the mat willingly then." Jeongin did so. When he felt safe, he added, "Asshole."

"Now I'm an asshole?" asked Seungmin, looking shocked. "I wasn't an asshole this morning. Then you called me a-"

"You didn't want to throw me in the water this morning to make yourself feel better." Jeongin was pushing the Monster can again. "Did you learn nothing from what happened between you and Hyunjin hyung?"

"You're right, Innie-ah. It was a stupid idea." He pushed the mattress in the boy's direction. "You can climb back in."

Jeongin grimaced.

"I don't trust you."

"At least let me make it up to you... with a kiss?"

"Isn't the point of atonement to get me something I want?" Jeongin lazily tossed the Monster can into the air, then caught it.

"You don't want my kiss, huh?" The other didn't answer that. Seungmin crept closer to him. "Am I really such a bad kisser that you'd rather throw yourself on the pebbles?" He made a curious face, showing no other emotion.

"It's not about that. I hate it when you come at me in groups."

"And now?" Seungmin bit his lip and swam even closer to him with the mattress like a cargo merman. "We're on our own. Just you and me. Do you want it now?"

Jeongin looked up at the clear blue sky as if the answer was written there.

"Maybe."

"Maybe? What does it take to get the answer to be yes?"

"Answer a simple question."

Seungmin nodded in agreement.

"Are you quite sure you're not interested in grandfathers?"

Seungmin laughed incredulously. And swimming just a short distance away from them was a grandmother and grandfather duo with two grandchildren.

"I swear to you. I like my own age group... And Chan hyung... Okay, maybe I'm interested. But only in Chan hyung."

"Last night for some reason you didn't mention how old he is... When you bit his abs... Several times. And everything."

Seungmin narrowed his eyes. "You said not to talk about last night."

Jeongin shrugged, a small smile hiding at the corner of his mouth.

"Give me my kiss."

"Did I also say you'd get it now?"

"I should have pushed you into the w-"

Jeongin grabbed the back of Seungmin's head, kissed him hard, then let go.

"Here's your kiss."

Then he swam away. Seungmin watched his receding figure. Two canoeists passed him, and even Chan was asking if he was okay when he regained consciousness. "Fuck," he muttered.

Jeongin was not even within earshot, but you and Felix immediately approached him. For the time being, it looked like he would be safe here. Felix had never kissed his face or cooed at him, and you had never cooed at him as often as Hyunjin or Changbin. He obviously didn't know what interesting things were happening while he was chilling with the others. He probably had no idea that there would be a lot of kissing in the middle of the lake. Nor did it occur to him that you were largely planning how to make it the most super day for him.

Right after you met him halfway, Hyunjin arrived in a breaststroke. With a devilish half-smile on his face, by the way. When he spoke, Jeongin's potential security was shattered.

"Innie-ah? Can I ask you something?" Hyunjin leaned his head on the boy's shoulder. "Please don't take off your shirt. If you do, I'll cum right here."

"Oh, my God." Jeongin massaged the bridge of his nose. "Can we please not talk about sex all the time? Just a little?"

"We're sexually frustrated adults. Most of us are half naked and flirting. What did you expect?" asked Felix.

Jeongin mumbled something under his breath.

"Oh, Innie," you clung to him affectionately. "Your poor innocent soul... and your poor feet."

"Stop that. I'm not a little child."

"But you are a baby. Our baby." You kissed him all over his cheekbone. Maybe all of you took it a little too seriously when you had the opportunity to bathe Jeongin in love.

 "And you need to relax."

"I'm relaxed," he said, as he was like a log in your arms. Or a hot guy in the shape of a blown-up float.

"Come on!" Hyunjin poked his nose. That wasn't the switch on the slackness function, unfortunately. "Last time I saw you smile was when the fan was running."

"And when you groped me," you reported. "If that's what it takes to make you happy, I'm here."

Jeongin's Adam's apple did a wild dance.

"As I just alluded to, I don't want it to be all about sex."

"Sex? Who mentioned sex?" Hyunjin narrowed his eyes, then glanced over at your form. “Was it you?"

"I sure wasn't."

“Felix?”

"I don't even know what the word means."

"Get lost." Jeongin tried to shake you off, but you were like Chan in the morning. A real cuddly koala.

"Come on, Innie. You're living with Minho and you still think groping is exclusively sexual?" Felix ruffled the younger's hair. You were amazed at how eager Jeongin was to indulge in his touch, even while he was droning on and in the middle of a minor argument.

You recalled what you had said to Felix minutes earlier. Maybe there's someone who needs your kiss more than I do. Not exactly your kiss. More like something to cheer him up. When you're with him, he's usually happy.

He didn't need much convincing. He also wanted Jeongin to be happy on this sunny day with his wholesome partners.

"Whatever it is, I don't want to do it. And I don't want to hear about him or Chan's bite marks or Jisung's hip-"

"What was that?" interrupted Hyunjin.

"What was what?"

Your boyfriend grinned. "That's what you were doing with your hand," he pointed out the tiny, grabbing motion, "when you mentioned Sungie's hip."

"I'm sure I didn't," Jeongin denied.

"Three credible witnesses say so."

"Only two," you corrected Hyunjin, still clinging to Jeongin. "I haven't been sane since Lix's mouth touched me."

Felix caressed the back of your neck.

"Two witnesses then. The point is the same. You want all of this. Jisung, Chan, maybe everyone. You want it so bad you're about to explode. All this frustration is not good for you. Not for you, not for us. We're here to have fun, Innie. Why are you resisting?"

"What if he doesn't want to?"

"Who? Sungie? Pff." Hyunjin sneered. "He'd feel like heaven if you got close to him."

"Anyone would feel like that," you added.

"That's stupid."

"No. That's the truth," Felix assured him. He pressed a kiss to Jeongin's temple. "We're starving for you, baby."

"There's a difference between someone saying they want to kiss you and sitting on your lap and actually doing it. They're just words. And you're always messing with me and each other. When can I take it seriously?"

"Naive boy..." mumbled Felix. "We're not messing with you."

"Didn't you know? All offers are deathly serious," Hyunjin continued. "If you say yes, it's yours."

Jeongin really did stiffen in your arms this time. You were thinking of recalling in your mind all the offers he'd received in the last few days, maybe even specifically that day. It must have been quite a lot based on the fact that you had talked a lot about Jeongin, not only in person but virtually, and how much you adored him. You had your private fan club.

"Just think about it, okay?" Hyunjin pressed a soft kiss on the back of Jeongin's head.

You let go, so he could think about what was going on without any extra weight. You didn't expect him not to know the rules of the game. You all thought that he just liked to give you the unattainable, or that he just didn't desire your advances.

All of you swam back to the big mat like a couple of cooling fish, and got caught in the middle of a conversation.

"Your feet hurt, your back hurts," Minho listed to Jisung. "Doesn't your mouth get lonely, jagi? If so, I can help you with that, and I can take your mind off the other two. Just saying."

"Can we do it like they did?" He pointed in your and Felix’s direction.

"Oh, we can do better."

"Wanna bet?" Felix was really sexy as he challenged Minho. And Minho greeted him with a sexy smile. Jisung was sexy too, as he scratched his head and lay on the mattress like he was waiting for his dream make-out session. Everyone was sexy. You saw the world, or more accurately your boyfriends, through overly sexy lenses since Felix's mouth touched yours.

"Let’s bet."

After being flooded with mattress memories, you realized what was happening.

Oh my goodness, how many dishes you've washed and vacuumed dust bunnies for betting with Felix! If you were forced to bet, you'd bet with anyone else, even Hyunjin, who bets in vile values, just not Felix. The guy's a master, and you've learned that the hard way.

"Are you sure, hyung?" asked Hyunjin, putting the pink sunglasses back on, not just resting on the top of his head. "You already lost one today. You want to do two penalties in one day?"

"Don't worry about me, Hyunne. I'm unbeatable at kissing Sungie."

"You're not going to kiss Sungie this time," Felix indicated. "This time you're going to kiss like,” he said your name with an impish smile. “and me. Or so you want to. Can you do that?"

Minho licked his lips.

"What do you give when I do?"

"Okay, okay, stop it." Jeongin stepped between Minho, who was leaning against the mattress, and Felix. "What now? A summer mating battle? I don't know exactly what Felix and they did, but I'm sure it won't be repeated here."

"If you're playing Chan today, what will you give us to stop?" asked Jisung slyly, elbowing up. "Scrambled eggs for breakfast? A cuddle afternoon? Kisses?"

It was pretty clear that Chan was spoiling you.

"I can give kisses. To everyone," Jeongin said. He was tense, judging by the way he was playing with the squashed Monster box. 'First thing you'll do when you get out of here is throw away the metal and replace it with a hand. If you can't use your own, you can use someone else's. "Behind the willow tree on the beach."

Jeongin turned and headed for the stairs.

Silence. Even the seagull raiding the beach fell silent at Jeongin's offer. So did you. You restored Changbin's fallen chin, who then looked at you with sparkling eyes.

"Jeongin offered his mouth. All my dreams have come true."

"Wow," Jisung also acknowledged what had happened. "I need to get to shore as soon as possible. Can you push me out, jagi?"

"Sure," nodded Minho. He quickly forgot about the bet. "As fast as I can, no question."

"Let's go until he changes his mind," Felix nodded as well. "I'll go quickly and tell the others. Will you be alright?"

"Of course," you assured him. "I'll kiss Jeongin so hard that- Hey, Minho! Wait for me! I'm getting on!" The mattress was pushed that day, perhaps never before, with the vehemence that Minho and Changbin were pushing it.

It's a wonder they waited. Or maybe it was just a testament to how much they loved you that they were able to wait for you with the promise of an Innie kiss before them.

The willow tree Jeongin picked was huge. Chan could have fit twice its length behind it. It was shady and hidden from prying eyes. It was a feature that caught the eye of others, because in the grass was a suspicious resemblance to a used condom. Fortunately, when it was your turn to follow Minho and Changbin, you weren't concerned with what was down below.

Jeongin gently pushed you against the trunk of the tree. The rough surface peeked through your towel and pressed against your shoulder, but you didn't give a damn.

"Is that how you want it?" Jeongin hummed at your question. "With ants?"

The boy rested his hand next to your head. This gesture was cringe-worthy in many places. However, this time Jeongin did it. If he was going to do the same to Chan, you hoped the poor guy wouldn't get too dizzy.

"There are none. I just have questions."

"Questions? I thought you had kisses. For me."

"Just take a turn. Questions first, then kisses."

"Fine. What do you want to know?"

"How would you like it? Slow and gentle, like Binnie hyung? Or hard, like Minho hyung? Shall I bite your mouth?"

Oh, fuck.

"Whatever. Just keep your mouth on mine." You traced your fingers over the carotid artery, one of his sensitive spots, and with the same vigor he sucked in air sharply, he leaned in to take your mouth.

It's an established fact that he's got you on the edge. And he kissed you fantastically, just the way you like it. You wouldn't have minded ants dropping on you.

Jeongin gasped out your name in a breathy whimper, eyes clouded with haze. He leaned away from you, when you were in the middle of working to rip off his soaked T-shirt.

"Sorry. I just thought you might catch a cold. Besides, Hyunjin's not here to come in his pants if he sees you half naked."

"Don't bet on it. I think he's always watching." Jeongin grabbed your wrist and untucked it from his shirt. Then he surprised you by reaching back to pull it off himself.

Before you could fall like wow, Innie had just grabbed his shirt off you, his palm sliding down your side and settling on your waist. He gently pulled you to him.

"Happy now?"

You nodded enthusiastically.

You touched his bicep. "May I?"

"You may."

You touched every nook and cranny of his exposed skin. Jeongin watched softly, then nuzzled into your neck.

"You're just like us," you said.

"The most you've ever seen me pinching cheeks is in your dreams," he immediately countered.

"You hunger for intimacy as much as we do. You're just as completely in love. That's what I meant. Am I wrong?"

"You like it when you're right, yes?"

"Who doesn't?"

Jeongin, a confident, grown man, stuck his tongue out at you. You, also an adult, and often recorded as Felix's baby, stuck yours out too and smiled. Of course, when Jeongin wanted to kiss you again, you didn't resist. You pulled him close to you and enjoyed that he wanted you.

Finally, you stumbled out from behind the willow tree with a happy grin. Although it would be more accurate to use the term, dizzy out. You sat down on the blanket opposite the water. Everything about you, even your soul, tingled at Jeongin's nearness. You spread his wet shirt on the grass to dry. Sometimes you tilted your head as if you were looking at a trophy. When someone came close enough to you, you'd show it off.

The next eager volunteer behind the tree was Hyunjin, who spent a few seconds blinking exclusively as Jeongin remained half naked.

"What? Did you cum in your pants?" The younger one leaned against the tree.

"D’you want me to?"

"I want your kiss. Or would you rather have mine?"

"Then I'll kiss you all over." As Hyunjin eagerly stepped closer, Jeongin stepped back.

"That's not a fundamental right, hyung. Especially not today."

"You want me to beg for it?"

"Would you?" Jeongin smiled devilishly. "Would you beg for my kiss?"

"You little demon..." Hyunjin held out his hand in fascination, but the other didn't even let it touch his shoulder.

"Maybe you should beg to touch me first."

Hyunjin licked his lips.

"Please, muse. Let me touch you. That's all I want. Please let me. I promise I'll treat you well, and you'll enjoy it too."

"Close your eyes, hyung, and wait."

Hyunjin obeyed.

From the looks of it, Jeongin had indeed decided to become Chan for a while, taking some of the conflict management upon himself, because while Hyunjin closed his eyes and his full lips were ready to kiss the hell out of Jeongin, Jeongin led Seungmin in on the other side of the willow tree. Then he made him face Hyunjin. Seungmin made a puzzled face, but Jeongin persuaded him with nods and various hand gestures urging him to get closer. Seungmin finally stepped in front of Hyunjin and kissed him. Hyunjin threw himself into his neck and was determined to swallow the boy he thought was Jeongin.

He didn't realize the folly until Seungmin moaned into his mouth. Then he pulled away, blinking round-eyed at Seungmin and at Jeongin, who stood a few steps away, smiling contentedly.

"I'm sorry, Hyunne." Seungmin turned the older man's face towards himself. "I'd be Innie for you, if that's what you want."

"Don't be stupid." Hyunjin frowned.

"But I am your stupid."

"Don't embarrass yourself in public, Minnie." Hyunjin pressed one last kiss to Seungmin's lips and held his cheek in the palm of his hand. "I've already forgiven you. I'll wash my hair again tomorrow."

"I'd be happy to help you."

"Will you also help me get Jeongin's promised kiss?"

Seungmin grinned. "Of course."

As soon as the last of the satisfied men came out from behind the willow tree, Hyunjin and Jeongin went upstairs to buy cocktails. They argued that it was for Minho's betting punishment. They said no more. Jisung and Seungmin badgered Minho to tell them the secret, then gave up and took revenge by laying down on top of him. Chan and Felix played Uno. Changbin lounged beside you, and you watched the swans with their chicks as they swam among the stones. There were no bird feeders in the area, so you could only watch them.

"When you kissed Felix, it was very hot," Changbin noted.

"And you're just saying that out of the blue?"

"I can't think of anything else since."

"You're cute." You took the opportunity to pinch his chubby cheeks. It was a good thing he was so muscular. His body was a great pillow and his face was chubby, really chewy. "Who did you imagine yourself to be?"

"Is that a serious question?" he got embarrassed almost immediately.

"Both, then."

"Of course, both. There is no other answer that is correct."

"Actually... there may be. If you imagine yourself as a third party."

Changbin moaned and leaned back on the grass. "Don't do this to me! The way you torture me is unhealthy."

You smiled and followed his example, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I didn't say think about it."

"It's like the purple elephant. Once you say it, there's nothing to do but think about it."

"I'm sorry." You planned to gently pat his stomach as a sign of regret, then somehow your hand stayed. It stayed there, like the thought in your head of how nice it would be to kiss Changbin.

As usual, you promised yourself that you would change your kissing habits and become more resistant to the stimulus. Like Minho, or even Jeongin. Of course, that was easier said and promised than done. Especially under the circumstances: you have Seo Changbin lying half-naked next to you, and he's practically pouting as he tells you how sexy you were kissing Felix.

You looked around. As time went on, there were fewer and fewer people on the beach. A couple of fishermen farther away, young people were picking their beaching supplies, and you overheard snippets of conversations in which participants planned to stay and watch the sunset. Families with young children had already left, probably for dinner. The youths were lost in their own world, the others were preparing for the sunset, and the fisher uncles were hopefully waiting for the catch, not how long you have to feel Changbin's chest to elicit a groan. Brilliant.

You took the towel off your shoulders, then spread it over your head.

"What are you up to?"

"Well, you don't have to just think about it." You snuggled closer to him on the blanket, one leg draped over his hip. His warm palm immediately found your thigh.

"Uno!" shouted Felix.

"Lix, if you win this round, can you come here?" you asked.

"Sure. I'm not giving Chan a chance to fight back like last time... And I won!"

While Felix carried himself over to your blankets, Changbin showered you with kisses. Slow, sweet kisses. First on the tip of your nose, then on your forehead, temple and cheek.

"You really are sweet," you smiled.

"I'm not sweet, just weak. Weak for and from love."

You stroked his cheek. You didn't exaggerate with your words. He nuzzled into your palm and continued to watch you lovingly. He deserved that kiss.

"Are you holding a secret council?" joined Felix under your towel. Luckily, it was big enough to fit all three of you underneath. He nestled himself next to Changbin, resting his chin on the boy's shoulder. "What is there to talk about?"

"We don't want to talk, do we, Binnie?" you caressed his mouth, and his lips parted instantly.

"Oh. So that's why you've been hiding."

"Poor thing couldn’t get our kiss out of his head."

Changbin nodded. Felix ran his fingers through the other's hair, playing gently with it. "Is that what you want, Binnie? That kiss?"

"Y-yes. I liked it a lot."

"You know we can't say no when you're so desperate," Felix whispered. He kissed the sensitive skin behind the boy's ear, then glanced at you. You understood what he wanted. You didn't hesitate any longer. You cupped Changbin's chin to stop him moving and leaned into his mouth. You didn't kiss him yet, just took his bottom lip between your teeth, like Felix did with you. Then you licked his lips. Changbin moaned and trembled. He threw himself after your mouth, and that was a good thing, because when Felix grabbed his pecs, you were lucky that your mouth absorbed the passionate sound Changbin made.

He probably would have given himself to you right there and then if you'd wanted all he had. He always loved to give.

He grabbed your thigh and refused to let go. You didn't want to go either. Felix covered Changbin's neck with kisses. It was the last thing you noticed before you fell into the act of kissing with one of your boyfriends again that day.

By the time Jeongin and Hyunjin returned with four cocktails, the three of you were hugging and panting with numb mouths. As the ice cubes clinked softly in the glasses and straws danced along the lemon rims as the two boys prepared the ground for punishment, Jisung grinned and leaned over Felix.

"I'll be next, okay?"

"I never thought you'd like it so much when I kiss our lovers."

"There's something special about it." Jisung sat down next to you. "Ultimately, I'm glad Innie didn't let us bet. Don't tell jagi, but I think we would have lost."

"I think he knows," Changbin said, glancing toward Minho. You lifted your head from his chest to take a look for yourself at the aforementioned. He watched your little grouping with a penetrating glance. He was so hot-

No. Pull yourself together. Your lips can't take any more kisses.

Instead, you looked towards Hyunjin and Jeongin, who were fiddling with the glasses and for some reason pulled out Felix's sleeping mask. Whatever they were up to, Seungmin was smiling contentedly beside them like he was having a great time. Chan was unaware that the punishment was happening now because he had fallen asleep after the Uno party. He still had the cards under his head, but no one had the heart to wake him up and you just let him sleep. On the other hand, you couldn't be sure he wouldn't object to what the bet winners were planning to do.

The rest of you were slowly gathering around the events. Hyunjin handed Minho the sleeping mask.

"Are you going to poison me?"

"Just a little."

Minho grimaced in displeasure.

"Let me remind you that you invented this punishment. Take it." Hyunjin patted Minho's cheek, then retreated. As soon as Minho had the mask on properly, Jeongin and Hyunjin began to cavort. Soon the four different cocktails had turned into one glass of disgusting-coloured, mixed-up mess, and another glass of a clearer colour.

"Open your mouth, hyung!" Jeongin approached with the first glass. He did not hand it to him, but carefully poured a sip into his mouth. Minho spat.

"What the fuck is this?"

"Cocktail." The boy ran the juice around the side of the glass. "Bottoms up!"

"I hate my bets," he sighed irritably.

Finally he drank every disgusting drop. You wouldn't have wanted to be in his shoes. The first glass was empty, the second came. Hyunjin held it up to Minho's mouth. After the first sip, the boy grunted and moaned.

"It's-it's delicious. What did you mix?"

"It's just plain sex on the beach. Jeongin told me how much you wanted it. Don't tell us we tortured you the whole time."

Minho drank that in with more enthusiasm. The last sip rolled down to his Adam's apple.

"That's your punishment." Hyunjin lapped up the tiny drop, happily swallowing it. "You have fulfilled it."

You congratulated him. Jeongin collected the glasses, Seungmin put the sleeping mask away. You helped gather Jisung's dry clothes, because he was getting cold, and accompanied him to the dressing rooms. Finally, once you were there, you went in with him. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Anyway... Get ready."

You hung your towel on the rack and turned to the boy with a questioning look. Jisung grinned, and that only made you more curious.

"Huh? What for?"

"I'm going to kiss you so hard you won't want to do anything else for hours."

"Now?"

"I wish, but right now we barely have minutes. Sometime when you're not expecting it." When did Jisung's hand come to your side? "I want to hear the sound you made from Felix's mouth."

"That sounds good." You took the opportunity to touch his hip. "Maybe I can get you to make the sounds you make when you kiss Minho."

"Deal."

Then you quickly got dressed, knowing that Jeongin was in the next stall and would quickly put a stop to any inappropriate action as Chan's responsible deputy.

You yourself shed the slightly damp swimsuit and took a dry seat on a less damp corner of the blanket. Behind you on the air-scoughing mattresses, Changbin issuing instructions. In front of you, the water, bridged orange by the light of the setting sun and the lapping sound of the waves as they crashed against the stones.

Jeongin settled down beside you. He leaned his head on your shoulder.

 "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "It was pretty good after all." He smiled broadly. Cheerfully, sincerely, and before the sunset. Your heart beating feverishly, pride embraced you. "I had a good time today."

"I'm glad." You tilted your own on top of his head, and together you watched the sun go down. A tiny sliver was still visible on the horizon when Minho held out his hand.

"Come on. The day is over. Let's go home."

"Let's go home," you nodded, letting him pull you up off the ground, and then Jeongin. The others competently packed up your stuff so you could be rascally donkeys again on the way back. Chan would have fit right in as a sleeping rascal donkey. Hyunjin assured him that he would drive and Chan should sleep peacefully in the car. Chan smiled gratefully at him. Then he tried to kick Seungmin in the butt, who said something about the need for elderly people to sleep. Seungmin laughed and ran forward, only to suffer a slap on the back of the head from Felix.

You had two bags slung over your shoulders when Minho slapped you on the ass with a snap.

"Hurry up, we're being eaten by mosquitoes!" he smirked.

You laughed in disbelief, then followed him down the path. In revenge, you stuck your hand in his back pocket and didn't take it out until you reached the car.

It was a hot day. Really hot. A real heatwave day, when everyone turns into a walking ice cream cone. But a really exciting, good day to spend with your boyfriends, swimming in your own chaos, and in the water.

stay taglist :: 💕@lemonn015

[otrtbs]

Hi I hope you're doing well 🌷

I had a question. I'm totally asking out of pure curiosity, it's not a criticism or anything of the sort.

In ahb (this masterpiece of yours) Sirius's favorite painting is Degas' Dancers.

I wanted to know if you knew the background of this painting and if making it Sirius' favorite was a deliberate choice or if you had no idea at all.

Because the Ballerinas in Opera Garnier in Paris were all really young and mostly, they were poor. The dancers were often their family's hope to crawl out of misery.

The audience was full of men.

In fact, the sad flip side was that there was a whole prostitution network behind the scene. With these young girls. Men could pay for backstage access to watch ballerinas change and sometimes rape them.

So Degas was a big customer.

That's how he painted the dancers and most of his works.

That's again how he sculpted the ballerina, her tutu was added meaning the 14 year old girl was posing nude.

Degas is also suspected of being Jack the Ripper, there are a certain number of credible leads and potential evidences.

That's why I was wondering if you knew.

Since there is this whole chapter where they insult Picasso (as they should) I found it strange that Degas being a known major p*do did not receive the same treatment.

Ps: I'm french, I don't know if I made any mistakes writing this, if I have please excuse me I tried my best 🙏

Okay hi, hello! I am doing well and I hope you are as well! You have unlocked Art Historian Thesis Nat, so I am going to put an extremely lengthy post under the cut, I'm so sorry (this is literally my area of study,,, i fear i am incapable of being brief about this)

I do want to clarify that right off the bat, I don't necessarily think many of these art historical figures are "good people". Like none of them are the best, most moral, upstanding citizens you should model your life after (but they're also dead sooooo). But I also understand that I did take some time in my fanfiction to make my hatred for Picasso very clear, and so I can also understand the confusion in not extending that same hatred towards Degas. But there are a few reasons for that, that I'll try to explain below!

The direct historical documentation of Pablo Picasso's violence towards the women in his life is vast and damning. If you want particularly good insight into his violence and abuse, then I recommend reading Marina Picasso's (Picasso's granddaughter) memoir titled: Picasso: My Grandfather. I also recommend Françoise Gilot's (romantic partner of Picasso) books, Life with Picasso and Picasso and Matisse. It is through the memories of the people who loved Picasso and who loved him in turn, that we hear of his sadistic nature that drove his lovers to suicide and we get personal letters that he wrote to Gilot in which he says things like "Dora, for me, was always a weeping woman… And it’s important, because women are suffering machines" and "For me there are only two kinds of women: goddesses and doormats." His granddaughter has this to say about him: “He submitted [women] to his animal sexuality, tamed them, bewitched them, ingested them, and crushed them onto his canvas. After he had spent many nights extracting their essence, once they were bled dry, he would dispose of them.” And Gilot says: "I am the only one to not have been sacrificed to the sacred monster(…) and is alive to tell the tale. He was a wonderful person to be with, it was like fireworks, amazingly creative, so intelligent and seductive(…) but he was also very cruel, sadistic and ruthless with others and with himself (…) It was the greatest love of my life, but you have to protect yourself (…) The others did not, they clung to the powerful minotaur and paid a very high price."

Why this matters: The evidence for Degas being so virulently misogynistic and cruel towards women is extremely less substantial and more speculative in nature.

Degas being Jack the Ripper. Degas being Jack the Ripper started off as a tiktok theory posed in early 2024, (though you can find an article as early as 2004 written by The Guardian's art critic here) and while fun to think about and speculate, it isn't true. August and September and November of 1888 is when the Jack the Ripper crimes were committed in London and Degas was in the South of France at that time receiving medical treatment because he was in extremely poor health. (Which you can find in The Letters of Edgar Degas edited by Theodore Reff (I'm sure there's. free PDF version out there somewhere)). Also, self-admittedly speculative, but Degas didn't visit the East-End of London when he did make his excursions to London because he was classist 😭. So, it would be odd for him to know the ins and outs of the streets where the murders took place. And also he had failing eyesight starting at 36, so the odds of him being Jack the Ripper are extremely slim.

The Ballerinas Yes, while it is true that the ballerina's were often subject to horrific conditions and were prostitutes for the "wealthy" patrons of the opera house, this does not mean that Degas partook in that. in fact, most historical documentation surmises he didn't. Degas considered himself a "realist" painter rather than an impressionist painter, wishing to document "real life" in all of its ugliness, beauty and unstylized truth. Therefore his primary concern was documenting the opera house and ballet in all of the moments, not just when the girls were dancing on stage. And in many of his paintings, Degas captures the opera patronsn in his ballerina paintings as lurkers behind the stage curtains as sinister black shadows, or as men predatorily watching in nice suits (e.g. Ballet, 1876 and The Rehearsal of the Ballet Onstage (1874)). But Degas himself, was NEVER a ballerina patron, he is even quoted as saying "People call me the painter of dancing girls. It has never occurred to them that my chief interest in dancers lies in rendering movement...". (now this is not because Degas was morally outraged at what was happening to the ballerina's, but because he viewed the men abusing the girls as committing a sin against God by sleeping with prostitutes). But while Degas had access to backstage, he was never a customer. And in fact, Degas is a notorious, well-documented celibate. This is because Degas believed sleeping with women would make him lose his special painting ability. No lie. Here's a direct quote from Vincent Van Gogh in his a letter to his brother Theo about the artist: "Degas lives like a little lawyer and does not like women, for he knows that if liked them and went to bed with them, he would become intellectually diseased and would no longer be able to paint." Degas was also known to reject ballerina's advances as well (again, fearing women would take away his magic painting power).

Feelings towards women By all accounts, Degas friends describe him as being reclusive towards women to being jovial with them, but always kind to them outside of a working environment. He even developed friendships with his fellow contemporary women painters. In a working environment, Degas was obsessed with perfection, demanding ballerinas contort their bodies in painful positions, and making them hold those positions for hours at a time. By all accounts, this was not because he hated them, but was obsessed with capturing their movements, the limitations of the human body, and he demanded perfection from himself. (x x x) (i.e. his obsession for his work and drive for perfection as a painter made him demanding and harsh towards his subjects, not his pure hatred of women).

Conclusions: So by many accounts, Degas was not particularly fond of women, and had little regard for his dancers. But the claims that he must have slept with the ballerina's and been a patron/customer "because that's what all men did back then" are not backed by any evidence. only evidence to the contrary. I went in on Picasso because those that were close to him have written first-hand accounts of his monstrocity. This is not the case with Degas. So, while I didn't tear him down like I did Picasso, I wasn't lauding him as a saint either. I highly recommend reading the article called Degas's Misogyny by Norma Broude which details the ways in which modern times have run away with this idea of Degas being a sadistic woman-hater and how we've gotten to this point. Anyway, TLDR; I was aware of the dark "underside" of the Paris Ballet at the time in which Degas was painting his works. Do I think he is Jack the Ripper and a man who participated in ballerina prostitution? No, not at all. At the end of the day, I am just an art history girl, telling anyone who will listen that there is not enough documentation on Degas to take these claims as 100% truth, or put that man up there with Picasso. Peace and Love! <3

[sitp-recs]

Between the Power Lines by @tackytigerfic (M, 3k)

For Harry Potter, all roads eventually lead to Draco Malfoy. Or: this is not an AU! It's just Harry and Draco meeting by chance in an imported food shop in Connecticut and going on a road trip together. Featuring motels, cacti, Americana, and a hefty dose of pining.

In New Orleans, they got drunk on Bourbon Street, and Malfoy danced on his own (arms bare, laughing; Harry could have watched him all night) and later on, so late it was almost morning, they let themselves into the St Louis Cemetery—Malfoy unpicking the lock so sweetly—and walked around until the sky was pink-edged with the promise of another day’s heat. Then they sat on the steps of a crypt, watched over by sightless eyes of the statue of an angel. She looked exhausted rather than sad, Harry thought, and that made a lot of sense when he thought about his own longstanding, dull-edged grief.

It’s been ages (or 2 years) since I last wrote a rec for Tacky (I usually write for other readers, except when I’m reccing friends - then I write for them) and their birthday was the perfect excuse to put my reccing muscles back to work. I almost bailed out because I know this is one of T’s own faves and “what if I don’t do it justice?” but that tired angel banner has been sitting in my drafts for 3 long years and it deserves a proper rec!

Where to even begin? Anyone who knows Tacky is aware of their superb prose - rich and nuanced, compassionate, effortlessly funny, with a strong sense of place and a soft spot for suds scenes and filthy m-rated sex I mean devastating romance. Their writing breathes heart and personality, very much like Tacky themself. So knowing that this fic came out exactly as they intended it to should be enough to make you go read this right now, but in case you need further incentive, see below all the reasons why this oneshot is so special to me:

1. The *vibes*: if you thought that 3k is nowhere near enough to build the sexiest, most intriguing Americana atmosphere you’ve seen, think again. The aesthetics are impeccable here, decorating the beautiful and strange landscape - cacti and cheap motels included - into something peaceful and desolate, an overarching melancholy making it even more compelling. The dialogue is brilliant but the silences are just as loud and meaningful, with a quiet intimacy and a dreamlike quality that make you feel as if you're intruding a memory.

2. The romance: at this point everyone and their dog know that pining!Harry is Tacky's jam - they luxuriate in making us all suffer with him until the realization that Draco has been loving him back all along slaps us in the face. Harry is so stupid and desperate and wanton, I love it. And the way Tacky reinvents this delicious trope to make it work in new angsty ways blows my mind. Imo the slow burn is particularly effective here, a feat in any 3k story, because the narrative gives us so much character insight. We learn all the little things that make these two lonely boys tick as we watch their ever-changing perception of each other evolve from a tentative truce to reluctant confidants to a comfortable, easy love that comes naturally and earned. We often get those bits of information from imagery and emotions alone, no dialogue needed, and a road trip is the best way to explore those dynamics in a smooth, unhurried pace.

3. The journey: this is truly an immersive journey, not only physical as we keep jumping from one destination to the next, but also emotional, as we learn more about their vulnerabilities and desires the more they gravitate towards each other. This story shows that being far away from home can be both freeing and grounding, when you’re stuck with your hot enemy someone who knows about your darkest hour. It gives you the chance to heal and visualize a different future without forgetting your past or letting go of that which has shaped who you are. I love their chance encounter and how this poignant 30k love story is told in such impressive economy of words.

TL;DR: if you’re a short form fan and prone to melancholy like me believe me when I say it doesn’t get any better than this. The whole road trip shebang mixing grief, romance and nostalgia wrapped in Tacky’s lush writing is a gift to any reader and an elegant work of art. Enjoy!!!

[yemaomeow]

I’m thinking about the significance of atla showing both sides of every nation once again because it is so fucking important to understand for everyone, but especially youth that want to make change- that war isn’t as simple as good vs bad and evil vs good or black and white. war is such a complex thing and people are such complex beings that thinking about media that deal with these types of topics through only two lenses, is not a good way to try to find understanding. there is “good” and “bad” in everyone- atla stresses that the people who do manage to find peace in themselves are those who can balance these sides of themselves, but to get to that balance, you must accept that you have these qualities and that while people do not change, they can grow and accept.

there are examples of these kinds of people in every nation: the earth king is so naive to a fault that he led his own nation into ruin, but he did not have ill intention: he truly did want to keep his people safe vs long feng who used the king’s naivety and stubbornness to gain power. he did not care about the people.

in the fire nation we have lu ten, jeong jeong and roku. i feel that zuko and sozin and azula are talked about enough, but they are still relevant. anyways. lu ten was a product of his nation, yeah? he was raised to serve and to make the royal family proud. he was not evil. he was just working for the goal instilled in him- he was a soldier, a cousin and a son. this was his job and this is what he wanted to be- but because he had no other choices for what to make of his life, this is what he also had to be. he was a boy. jeong jeong did not find balance and peace in his work as a general so he escaped it- he did not escape it because he saw wrong in being a general, he escaped it because he saw wrong in the way fire was used as a whole. but he did not work to better the nation or to use his teachings for good. he vanished. roku had a similar approach like jeong jeong. he cowered away from confrontation, unlike others of his family and nation, and only pushed back when he (and other’s) were pushed to having no choice. with their inner conflicts about how to use their bending abilities, they made mistakes that concerned others and passed down their issues and solutions. this is incredibly human: learning from your mistakes while leaving others to solve them

in the water tribe: we have hamma, paku and kurkuk. hamma was a deeply scarred POW who craved the stability and freedom and home she was taken from, so all the suffering she endured, she wanted to give back simply because she wanted the people who hurt her to feel that pain and stop inflicting it onto others, but she got carried away. she became consumed by the urge to retaliate with feeling that she became the monster she accused others of being. paku was so focused on conserving tradition that he refused to open eyes to making brief changes because he feared toppling structure and the ideals he had- he feared ruining his home and culture, but he learned and he found a balance. kuruk relied on the world around him to determine his actions. he was a live and let go type of man, who should have acted sooner- he is similar to aang who just wanted to watch the world as it was and help where he was needed, but both of them needed their loved ones to be put in danger to make an ultimate decision. all of these characteristics are what lead to the downfall or upbringing of people who fight wars.

and the air nomads even: gyatso and aang. they spoke too late and acted even later. they were so consumed by the physicality of being good that they didn’t take action until they absolutely had to which just did not serve in their times. being pushed and letting yourself be pushed to extremes is just as bad as being the one to push others because you fail to stop or go at appropriate times.

everyone has faults that play into the destruction of lives. but no single person is at fault. we are all just products of our surroundings, but how we choose to become individuals as time moves and we grow is what makes it better or worse- but all of these characters? What did they do? What do they have in common? They all had significant scenes showing that they accepted this life and they can only grow or not grow in it

[physalian]

Character Types: The “Fixer”

Oh look it’s another chance to bring exposure to casual traumas in real people thinly disguised as writing advice heyyyyy

The “Fixer” is the character who puts everyone else before themselves, but isn’t quite so self-destructive as the jaded loner—this person’s whole schtick is that everyone else’s needs and emotions come first, which will usually end up with them behaving and appearing very extroverted, fun, and kind.

They have no idea they’re doing it, either, and see nothing wrong with their behavior or what logic there is in saving a little slice of the pie for themselves. They’re not self-loathers or angsty abusers and if there are parts of themselves that they don’t like, they probably think of these aspects as “what can you do? Oh well” with zero motivation to exercise their demons, because they don't see them as demons but something they deserve to suffer with.

Or, they know exactly what they’re doing and cannot see the merit at all in themselves deserving a piece of the pie, as if they’re inherently lesser than everyone around them for Reasons they cannot articulate, Reasons that, if their friends or loved ones share the exact same traits, they’d bend over backwards and make excuses for. They have normalized their existence that there’s nothing left to angst over. “I am lesser” is just. A statement of fact.

These characters come in several flavors:

The parental figure (possibly single) or “mature” one in the family who’s always prepared, always has the big backpack with bandaids and wet-naps, probably the first to say “we’re family, all’s forgiven” in effort to keep the peace.  They’re the person who literally eats last or not at all, even when conserving food isn’t necessary, usually with the smallest, now-cold serving. Also can be the parentified sibling.

The person in a romantic relationship doing a whole lot more giving than receiving, whether it’s physically or emotionally, insisting that they’re fine, that their partner need not go out of their way to do XYZ for them, but is incredibly in tune with anything and everything that their partner might need. They’re likely to be in an abusive relationship, either emotionally or physically, or both, because a sensible partner who loves Fixer as much as the Fixer loves them wouldn’t let Fixer get away with an unfair share of back-breaking emotional labor. The abuser takes full advantage of it and laughs when they’re not looking.

The “mom” of the hero team/friend group, similar to the actual parental figure, but in this dynamic, everyone’s about the same age. The Fixer probably isn’t the leader, but second or third in command, as they don’t think themselves capable of making the Big Decisions and prefer running support. They take the most cramped bedroom, the most undesirable odd jobs, and do far more than their share of the chores and other tasks, probably without the rest of the group realizing it until something happens to them. No one asks this of them, they automatically assume this is their burden and don’t even think to suggest equal shares.

Alternate case:

They’re the “leader” because no one else wants to do the job, pretending to be way less stressed than they are and habitually protecting their team from the worst of it with little white lies, to the point where no one has any idea how much they’re suffering in silence until they eventually break. As opposed to a properly communicative leader who regularly delegates important tasks and is very transparent in all their decisions. They might also be the leader because they don’t think anyone else in their team could perform as well under pressure, pressure they’ve been under their whole life.

I actually wrote two of these, the Original, and then the Original Who Went to Therapy, between two different WIPs.

Original was the second in command of a plucky space crew in the sci-fi WIP I always mention, who was very versatile and OP and thus took it upon himself to take the lion’s share of the work around the ship because he could do it quickly and delegating the tasks to the rest of the crew was, to him, objectively pointless. He was also an empath with an ability he couldn’t turn off, literally stuck doing the emotional labor far and above normal human conditions.

He was a firm believer in “if I can, I must” and repeatedly put himself in dangerous situations because he’s the only one who could escape them alive, and to not act would be selfish, and above all else, he feared looking selfish. This all came to a head when Magical Shenanigans ensued and his own powers turned against him, stressing him to the point of his body going “we are taking a Break” and he got bedridden until he learned how to talk about his feelings and let people in.

While he was sick, him Not Being There for when the rest of the plot carried on without him meant that  his team very badly felt his absence because he did so much without them realizing it, and they did not handle it well, picking a different character to shovel all the labor onto, until they too overstrained themselves, and an intervention was necessary.

He was the friendliest character of the team to their newest member, their only cheerleader when the whole rest of his team was skeptical. He was also quite desperate for validation and approval, to the point where he made a bunch of little white lies that quickly caught up with him, pretending to be something he’s not so people would like him.

—

When I ripped the above character out of that WIP and tossed him and another character into Eternal Night, he got an upgrade and a whole bunch of therapy.

Enter Dorian. The main difference between these two is that Dorian can actually stand up for himself and establish boundaries, and got a friend/girlfriend who went “I can fix him” and actually did. He’s still very much a Fixer with a Martyr complex, a vampire who only turned to make sure the people he was stuck with held up their end of a deal and did not expect to keep living after the deal was done…for about three hundred and fifty more years.

This is a character who was a parentified Fixer, sixteen years older than his oopsie little sibling, and did not handle it well when they were separated. He’s very obvious to everyone who knows him, especially when those people have known him for centuries, and know “yeah give that one a little kid to protect and he will predictably fall on his own stake”.

One of his love interests (he’s poly), the “I can fix him” girlfriend, is not at all afraid to call him out on his martyr bullshit, or when he’s bending over backwards trying to save people who don’t want to be saved, or risking his own sanity, health, and reputation for people who insist they don’t want his help.

I specifically designed and introduced Kymiria to look and act like a stereotypically jealous mean girl who doesn’t want to share her man with the protagonist. Except. She’s right. About everything. She knows Dorian extremely well and got him through some awful shit and isn’t about to stand by and watch him break himself again for someone who she thinks doesn’t deserve him (and she’s also right on that point). How she goes about protecting him is totally different.

But for the mortals who live with his coven, he’s the most popular vampire around and the favorite by all the children for a country mile. No one who hasn’t been living with him for decades has any idea that there’s anything traumatic behind his smiles.

—

I like writing Fixer characters because I don’t get to see enough of them. They’re not as popular as the Angsty Sad Boy and certainly not as popular as My Trauma Excuses My Aggression Boy. People who have suffered tend to fall on either end of two extremes: Either they continue the cycle of hate and abuse or they make absolutely certain no one in their life will ever suffer what they did. I like writing and reading the latter, particularly when they're men as most “fixers” we think of emphasize “womanly” traits of kindness and nurturing.

These characters are also their own worst enemies. Their inability to treat themselves as deserving of respect and forgive themselves continuously gets them into sticky situations that they wouldn’t be in if they were just a little bit more willing to put their own needs first.

—

If you're interested in reading my take on Fixers in a bona fide novel, check out Eternal Night of the Northern Sky!

[goatcheesecak3]

Comfort

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x gn!reader

Fic type: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, caregiver reader

Warnings: brief mentions of gun violence, ptsd

Summary: Adam has been suffering from panic attacks since news of another jigsaw attack hits the news, and needs comforting.

A/n: hello! I've been looking forward to writing more about Adam's soft side, so i hope you enjoy! Remember requests are open, and I'd love to hear feedback! Knowing that people enjoy the things I write really helps motivate me to write more <3

Adam had been having a real rough time as of late. Usually, he was quite good at not letting his past trauma get to him, and when the news broke that the jigsaw killer,  John kramer, and his right hand man, Amanda Young, were found dead, he really felt as though his nightmare was over. But news had recently broke that another one of John's sick "games" had taken place. Five people kidnapped and put through torment, only two of whom had lived. Maybe it was another "apprentice" as the police had called them. Or perhaps a copycat? It wasn't so far fetched, jigsaw had accumulated a somewhat cult-like fan base. Most of them were just people with morbid curiosity, they followed the case a little too obsessively but swore they disapproved of John's actions, although a few nutcases had popped up all over the city, thinking of John as some kind of pied piper, cleaning the city of the people they deemed unworthy. One of whom was Adam's ex best friend, Scott Tibbs. In the time that Adam was missing, Scott had completely lost it. He never was the most stable person but this was crazy, he was jealous of the horrific ordeal that Adam went through, he saw it as some kind of rebirth, he thought John was a genius. It made Adam feel sick to know that there were others out there who shared the same views as the evil fuck who ruined his life.

On a good day, Adam could mask his fear with anger, but today was not one of those days.

"Adam, do you want a cup of tea before bed?" You called from the kitchen into the bathroom where Adam was just stepping out of the shower.

"Yeah, that'd be great babe" he called back.

So far, it was a normal night (or about as normal as a night can be when talks of your boyfriend's attempted killer making a return are all over the news). Normalcy was something both of you had strived to keep, it was important not to let Adam slip back into his reclusive ways. He was doing good, but you knew any small thing could set him back, so you kept a close and caring eye on him.

"Here," you smiled, entering the bedroom and handing a mug to a rather tired looking Adam. He looked adorable in his loose tshirt and boxers, his thick black hair still damp and ruffled from a futile attempt at towel drying it.

Adam kissed your cheek and held your waist- a little tighter than he usually did. He was scared. He did a good job of hiding it, but the signs were there, that fear was bubbling up just below the surface.

"You wanna watch a movie tonight? I like the idea of getting all cosy with a movie in bed" you suggested, climbing under the duvet and patting the spot beside you. You wanted to distract Adam from his own thoughts as much as you could, and a movie was a good place to start.

"Sounds good" he smiled softly, knowing your intentions. He gently placed his tea down on the bedside table, and clambered into bed, snuggling up to you.

After flipping through the channels for a little while, the two of you found a channel that played exclusively dogshit, straight to TV romcoms.

Finding, watching and poking fun at the worst movies possible was a particular favourite past time for the two of you, so when your disparaging comment on how cheesy the protagonist was, was only met with a half hearted chuckle, you knew Adam's mind was elsewhere.

That fear was growing, you could practically feel it radiating out of Adam's chest, a palpable sense of anxiety emitted from the poor man, all while he tried his best to seem calm.

That was when a from somewhere outside, a car backfired. That was it for Adam, before you could even process where the two loud bangs had come from, he had burst into floods of tears. He was blubbering, holding his hands over his ears and hunched forward, as though trying to make himself as small as possible. His cries were the most heartwrenching sound you'd ever heard, they weren't that of a grown man, no, in this moment Adam was no more than a frightened little boy. He was so small and helpless, so afraid and so tiny. He hugged his legs to his chest tightly as his eyes rapidly scanned the room before fixating on the bedroom door.

Of course, ever since the bathroom Adam had associated loud bangs with gunshots, with a madman running into the room with the intent to kill. In his head he was back there.

"Sweetheart, deep breaths" you whispered, ever so gently placing a hand on his back and rubbing in slow circular motions.

Adam gasped for air between sobs, gripping onto the duvet so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Shhhhh, that's it honey, just catch your breath"

You spoke softly, not wanting anything else to alarm him.

Adam's breathing had slowed, but the tears still poured down his face and the wails still rung out from his mouth. You pulled him into an embrace and he collapsed into you. You took this opportunity to carefully guide him into a laying down position, so that he was cuddled up to your chest while you wrapped your arms around him. Your poor, sweet baby, you'd do anything to protect him.

"I know honeybun, it's scary isn't it? But you're so brave, who's my brave boy, hm?" You cooed, stroking his hair and letting some much needed praise rain down on him.

"I am.." Adam sniffled, taking in deep gulps of air and feeling immensely safer now that he was starting to remember where he really was.

"That's right, baby! You're the bravest boy in the world" you smiled, hoping your warm and nurturing tone would bring him some sort of comfort.

"Do you want your kitty?" You asked.

'Kitty' was Adam's childhood stuffed animal, he didn't like to sleep with it every night, but you kept it in a box right under the bed in case he ever needed it.

In that box was an array of things that helped Adam with his ptsd, panic attacks and insomnia. Noise cancelling headphones, eye masks, stress balls, snacks, even activity books. But none of them ever held a candle to kitty, a raggedy black toy cat with a big bald patch on it's head from years of nuzzling from Adam.

You felt around under the bed for a few seconds until you found the box and pulled it out, taking off the lid and handing Adam his kitty. Adam took it and held it to his face, burying his nose in it's head and closing his eyes.

"Do you want anything else, sweetpea?" You asked, offering the box to him.

Adam didn't speak, he never did when he got like this, instead he pointed at a packet of animal crackers.

You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, he looked adorable, and the fact that he was hungry was a good sign.

"Alright my love, crackers it is" you said, opening up the packet for him and handing them over.

Adam took one out and began to nibble on it slowly, he liked to chew things when he was anxious. Sometimes it was his shirt sleeves or fingernails that got the brunt of it, so you were trying to help him find alternatives.

You turned to look at Adam, he had stopped crying but his eyes were still wet, and his face tear stained. He sniffled quietly, his eyes vacant and his hands trembling as they clutched onto his teddy. You could tell exactly how he was feeling, still frightened but mostly embarrassed. He hated feeling so pathetic, being reduced to a snivelling wreck, trembling like a lost puppy. Reassurance was imperative to make sure Adam felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable, you didn't want him to start bottling things up again out of shame. You wiped his eyes dry with your thumb, and cradled his chin so that he was looking at you.

"It's alright, baby. You're safe," you whispered.

Adam snuggled up to you, burying his face in your chest and breathing you in, slowly and calmly until he had stopped shaking. He was starting to feel a lot better.

"Y/n?" He said, so softly that you almost didn't hear him.

"What is it, my sweet?"

"Can we put alien on?"

Alien was Adam's favourite film of all time, not your conventional comfort film, but Adam associated it with fond memories of being a young boy. One of his friends had stolen it from their older brother, and Adam and all his boyhood chums had watched it together at a sleepover. To this day, whenever Adam watched that film he could practically smell microwaveable popcorn, taste cans of flat cola, hear raucous laughter and feel the safety of being surrounded by people that loved him. He didn't have the best upbringing, and his family weren't so kind to him, so this particular night with all his buddies in a house far from his own was one of the few comforting memories from his youth.

You'd put the dvd in the player and turned on a few lamps, just so the extra light kept Adam aware of his surroundings, and climbed back under the covers where Adam, having finished his crackers and tea, shuffled over to you and rested his head on your chest.

He clung onto his kitty, and stared at the TV, his eyelids very slowly becoming droopy.

"Y/n?" He mumbled, almost out cold

"Yes, hun?"

"Kitty says thank you for looking after us"

You could hear the smile in his voice

"Well, tell kitty I'm always happy to look after both of you" You chuckled, kissing the top of Adam's head and giving him a squeeze.

He hummed sleepily and began to drift off, dreaming of cats, aliens, and best of all,  you.

[phoenixkaptain]

Everytime I think about Obi-Wan and Anakin it’s like- I don’t ship them so much as I think they should be together at all times. I think tcw had a point, actually, and the two of them should just. Always be together. I think Anakin is Obi-Wan’s hope in an increasingly difficult life and I think Obi-Wan is Anakin’s tie to humanity when he most feels like a monster. They are intrinsically combined, from the very first movie where Obi-Wan dies at Vader’s hands with a peaceful expression.

It’s Obi-Wan begging Luke not to see Anakin in Vader while Vader searches Luke to see some sign of Obi-Wan. It’s Obi-Wan calling Anakin another pathetic lifeform to Obi-Wan being unable to process the idea of Anakin being anything but good. It’s Anakin awkwardly (adorably) shaking Obi-Wan’s hand to Anakin awkwardly (adorably) bringing up Obi-Wan during conversations with the woman he wants to seduce.

It’s Obi-Wan knowing how to fix Artoo and Obi-Wan teasing Anakin about Artoo. It’s Anakin’s first thought on losing his lightsaber being “Obi-Wan’s going to be mad at me again” and Anakin laughing when Obi-Wan tells him to drive better.

The prequel trilogy is so fascinating because my favourite parts are always Anakin and Obi-Wan. The parts I think about the most often are those parts with Anakin and Obi-Wan. The relationship between these two drives the entirety of the plot of the prequels, to the point that the literal birth mother of the main characters of the original trilogy is all but forgotten in the third movie.

It’s. Obi-Wan spending years watching over Luke because Luke reminds him of Anakin, never approaching because what if Luke really does turn out to be like Anakin…?

It’s Vader assuming that Obi-Wan taught Luke to fight, because who else could teach a Skywalker?

It’s Obi-Wan accepting all the blame for the people he knew best, the people who were basically his family, all dying.

It’s Vader keeping Obi-Wan’s lightsaber in a parallel to Obi-Wan keeping Anakin’s.

They are just. Mutually Obsessed. Obi-Wan held up Anakin and said “this is my whole personality now” and Anakin responded with “neato, same.” They bicker like an old married couple. Anakin can’t imagine even thinking about leaving Obi-Wan behind. Obi-Wan tells Anakin point-blank that he’s a good Jedi who deserves to be a Master.

I ship them because like. The universe? Does?? They are destined to be by each other, in life and in death. They support and sustain each other. There was probably eepy Force magic stuff that made Anakin into a Force ghost because Obi-Wan wanted him to be one.

How else can I explain it? They were made for each other. Like. Literally. They should never be separated. Look what happened when they did separate in universe. They are a nuclear bomb. They have to stay together or the galaxy gets the worst of it, and that’s just canon, somehow.

[gunstellations]

a little family

[bubba-draws]

A warm embrace

[buttercup-barf]

Under the cut are mostly self-insert doodles of decreasing quality. Again, not much directly tied to Team Fortress 2. Might as well toss these out while I have no access to my puter. Much yapping under the cut and in the tags incoming.

Another self-insert, this time less of a "here's me as a tenth class" and more of a "here's my game experiences translated into the class I would take the place of". The Cleaner. Although I guess they could still be wearing either suit. It doesn't matter that much.

That one Convict's Case taunt with Backup would be extremely funny, because the man would be on the verge of a breakdown (he does not want to go to jail so bad you have no idea). The second image- I owe no explanation. You know what I am. You see the pattern with my favourites.

The duality of the man. Resting face versus "just heard you express interest in religion/Russian folklore" face. He's not that hard to make friends with, when you pull him away from all the explosions.

Some doodles of trying to figure his face out. Unfortunately, the more I stare at him, the more I worry that he looks like A Certain Guy With The Last Name "Kazarin", and the fear of never being original in my life caught up to me.

Don't look at me, don't perceive me, I refuse to explain any of my actions to you.

[sysig]

I hope you blink before I do (Patreon)

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

I made a meme do you leik it :)

[thorntopieces]

man