#if you've seen my coding struggles

[glambots]

hello! do you have a masterlist? thank you in advance <3

I do not! I'm working on one, but it's been Very Difficult. Sorry! OTL

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

What if I was insane again about the first thing Alpha Grim Sonic hearing when Nine creates him is his purpose—that he is Nine's friend?

Friendship as a concept in Prime is handled interestingly among its main characters. As Sonic (who thinks he knows a lot about friendship) comes to deepen his understanding of what it means to have a home/be home, I think it's safe to say his definition of friendship develops along with it. Compare this to Nine, who's learned everything he knows about "friendship" and personal relationships in general through his relationship with Sonic (at least, after his childhood of bullying).

So of course I think about Nine, who never wants to be hurt again, yet can no longer bear feeling alone (not after feeling that sense of companionship and belonging with someone else), which results in him creating a warped version of friendship for himself (one where he is surrounded by people, but people who only do whatever he wants, who have no opinions and thoughts of their own, who can't backstab him). And so I think about Alpha Grim Sonic, who is the very first robot Nine creates under this idea of frienship and companionship.

Nine is his master, and Alpha Grim Sonic is his protector, his bodyguard, his weapon

But he's also his friend.

Alpha Grim Sonic doesn’t talk back (can't even if he wanted to), but his purpose has always been clear to him: be Nine's friend. That's what he was created to be.

So I imagine Alpha Grim Sonic performing his purpose to the T at first under Nine's framework. He's Nine's friend, so he does whatever Nine commands, he never talks back or challenges authority, he protects Nine at all cost. And then, perhaps unbeknownst to Nine, he begins to shift ever so gradually. Sure, he's never insubordinate, he never offers up opinions, he still can't speak, but the lines of devotion begin to blur.

Is it in his code? Is out of a real sense of feeling?

Alpha Grim Sonic does not understand friendship, no matter whether it believes it does or not. But it's ironic to me if, despite being created under Nine's warped idea of it, the robot slowly grows their own soul, witnesses other displays of frienship and care, and drifts outside the bounds of that idea (a carefully crafted painting begins to leak out of its frame, expanding the masterpiece). They protect Nine, they do only what he commands, and yet they hate to see Nine in pain, they wish to bring Nine comfort (and so it feels good to him when Nine commands him to do such things that might bring his master comfort).

Does this make any sense? To believe that friendship means to hold one person on a pedestal, to protect them, to only listen to them, to never talk back, to never have opinions, and yet, despite believing what your creator tells you of friendship with them (your very purpose in this existence), to slowly fall further into those feelings that true care and love for another person brings, to wish to comfort someone the way one might describe a true friend would, despite not realizing any of this.

[no1blacksapphirefan]

CRK Self-Aware AU but it's just them being so confused why you constantly tap them in the their cookie profile.

(Can be seen as romantic or platonic, do as you will) ((Reader is unaware that they are aware))

Now I don't know if this is a common thing among CRK players but I love tapping the hell out of my favourite cookies lovingly <33 Imagine the cookies like feeling it and being so confused why, I don't think it'll hurt (At least I hope not) and watching you giggle as they like struggle to say their programmed lines as intended.

Me thinks Burning Spice would kinda like it/enjoy it. I cannot explain why. It's almost like a punch but of course not physically, like an affectionate one. If he ever finds a way out, he'll return the favour and poke you many times to your cheek.

Some cookies like Shadow Milk may take it personally first, he's trying to tell you things!! Who cares if you've heard them all already, what if he decides to say a new one to completely shock you? He eventually grows accustomed to it and learns it's your way to show how much you love him, so he'll let you get away with it for now.

Maybe Black Forest cookie quickly sees it as a loving gesture and gets all giddy knowing that she's one of your favourites out of the array of cookies you have. She's so happy. She may brag to others about it.

Black Sapphire I feel quickly understands it, it makes him more interested in you. His microphone is fixated at you constantly as you do this loving gesture. He finds it almost endearing, even though you believe that they're still some code, unaware of what you're doing and only following programming. The fact you still try to show affection like this is quite entertaining.

Pure Vanilla probably has knows what you're doing as soon as you do it, or finds out quickly as well. He's honoured to be this loved by you he can't help but chuckle as you leave to do other stuff. It's almost like a comfort to him, perhaps you did it when you finished his beast-yeast episode in means to comfort him, he appreciates it a lot.

================

These were just random thoughts based on what I do a lot haha. Feel free to leave your own thoughts in my inbox <33

-#1 Black Sapphire Fan/Listener Out!!

[jsooly]

death in the family (2) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, dad and mom to the rescue. scared for the kids’ safety, they agree to leave… without you?

p.s. i've seen your requests so far and i love every single one! i'm super excited to write them <3

(1) / (2) / (3) / (4*) / (5) / (6*- ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

neytiri had a strong sense of premonition, one that could only develop when dealing with such troublesome children. she knew from the moment jake grounded lo'ak, he would try and do something to regain the freedom he lost.

her youngest son always manages to surprise her with his roguish innocence. not only did he go to a forbidden place, he didn't pull back the moment he laid eyes on the recoms and put his sisters in danger alongside him.

did he think all the rules she and jake gave them were arbitrarily made up?

"neteyam, update your sister on our situation." jake called over the wind. "we might be out late."

behind him, neteyam nodded and pressed his comms.

"lightning bug, this is pathfinder, come in." neteyam was always the best at keeping up code names. lo'ak often slipped in a 'dad,' 'mom," or 'bro' here and there, but as with all things, neteyam takes his father's instructions to the last letter. "hello?"

neytiri cast a confused glance to her husband. it was unlike you to not respond.

"come in, bug, this is devil dog. answer us." jake spoke into his comms urgently.

"did anyone see her before we left?" neytiri asked, pulling her ikran back to match pace with the two boys.

"no, mother."

jake shook his head, running through his memory for a glimpse of you at high camp. he grunted when he came up empty. "m'sure she's just sleeping or something. we got a bigger problem right now."

“i know a quick way!” neteyam yelled over the wind, guiding his ikran to a shortcut.

jake and neytiri dove behind him, hoping it wasn't too late for their children.

. . .

you awoke with a groan, brows creasing as the blur in your vision mellowed out.

"y/n!" tuk squealed softly, thrashing in her captor's grip. “you’re bleeding!”

huh?

your eyes scan the circle you've found yourself in. the recoms got the children on the ground, bound by their queue or neck. faintly, you could hear spider's voice chatting with the commander.

and yes, you were in fact bleeding.

the bullet that grazed the length of your arm left a nasty laceration from your elbow to your shoulder. it burned like hot oil was carefully poured in a line on your skin, and ached like a ten day workout.

you began to sit up when a foot smashed into your chest. the wind was stolen from your lungs and you dropped back to the ground with a choked gasp.

you shot lo’ak a warning look right as he jerked against his captor’s grip. with an unhappy growl, he settled down.

“keep her on the ground.” quaritch snapped.

quaritch. that’s who this guy was—this avatar, rather.

“i hope you realize you almost killed three of my men,” the commander squatted on his hind legs but still managed to tower over you. “thankfully they were saved by that shit aim of yours.”

the three injured were off to the side, grunting in pain as they pulled your deep rooted arrowhead from their flesh. you remembered when you weaved blue and yellow, inspired by neytiri’s signature green and yellow, in the fletching of every single arrow sunken into them. removing them was a slow and painful process, the blade cutting just as much coming out as it did going in.

in a surprising revelation, you found yourself… thoroughly enjoying their struggle.

shit aim or not, they’ll remember the pain when they saw those blue and yellow tufts again.

you scowled, pushing the soldier’s boot off your chest roughly. they must have understood you weren’t much of a threat in your throttled state, because they didn’t move to restrain you further.

lo’ak hissed in na’vi. “(why didn’t you bring the gun?)”

you scoffed at his impertinence. “(i thought the worst you’d come across was a viper wolf, not dad’s greatest enemy. why didn’t you run away when i told you to?)”

a recom nudged your head with the barrel of their rifle. “hey. shut up.”

“(yeah, yeah, i know i was stupid.)” lo’ak cut you off, saving himself from further verbal assault.

“(that's right, and your stupid ass shouldn’t have come back.)” you clicked your tongue.

lo’ak’s face was painted with something between guilt and stubbornness. “(i was trying to help you!)”

“(you had the others to think of!)”

“but—”

"what would it take for you to shut up?!" quaritch whirled, irked from being puled out of his conversation (though it looked more like an argument) with spider. “it’s like a zoo in here, all the yipping and yapping.”

he stalked over to you, eyeing you curiously as he rested his hands on his belt. "matter of fact, why do i even need you?"

the recom behind you pressed the barrel of their gun firmly against your scalp. the distressed whines of tuk wasn't unheard by you, nor was kiri's uncertain promises that everything will be okay.

“hold off, lyle.” quaritch squinted at your face, scanning your features with a laser-like precision.

“don’t tell me… you’re that little brat that was always at his feet, weren’t you? well, wheels is more accurate.” he laughed heartily, looking at his company in condescending awe. “man, that jake sully just keeps getting better and better.”

. . .

night fell and your situation didn’t improve at all. but it didn’t worsen, either.

in the night, pandora grew even more dangerous and the way the recoms were patrolling the area meant they weren’t taking any chances underestimating her.

but then a call rang through. every kid turned their heads towards it. she was easily mistaken for the night noises of pandora’s wildlife, but to her children, neytiri’s voice was instantly recognizable.

you heard a thudding off to the side but saw nothing. before you could even turn your head back around, an arrow flew past your head and into the skull of the man holding kiri.

green and yellow fletching. it was over for them.

the next moments happened in a blur—

quartich pushed spider out the way, letting bullets fly towards the treetops.

lo’ak ripped the pin from a grenade, the burst of gas disabling some soldiers. he sunk his teeth into the recom behind him, tuk following his lead and doing the same.

once he took care of that, lo’ak launched himself onto the man holding you hostage, jumping onto his back and using the momentum to throw him off balance and face-first into the dirt.

“come on,” he grunted, pulling you up and onto his back. you grit your teeth when he squeezed your injured arm, and he murmured apologies when he heard your pained heavy breathing. “tuk, come on!”

he grabbed his baby sister’s hand. running off into the tall bushes and leaves, you caught the glint of neytiri’s arrowhead as she loaded another projectile into her bow.

you didn’t know where kiri or spider were at the moment. still, your brain finally allowed you to pass out from shock and blood loss knowing your parents were there to get everyone to safety.

. . .

“…hunting us. he’s targeting our family.”

“you cannot ask this! the children. everything they’ve ever known—this is our home!”

the words came in one ear, out the other. your head pounded, the thumping echoing in your chest, your ears... the whole world spun around you in a dizzying whirl.

“he had our children. he had ‘em under his knife!” jake's voice sliced through the fog in your mind. you felt him shift beside you, his calloused hand lifting your arm as he rewrapped your gauze.

rewrapped? how long were you out?

“look at this,” jake said, shaking your arm gently, his anger seeping through the tenderness. “he didn’t even hesitate!”

neytiri's voice cut in, louder now as she approached her husband. “my father gave me this bow—” she choked on the words, “as he lay dying. and he said protect the people—”

“honey—”

“you’re toruk makto!” neytiri's hoarse cry electrified the air, pained and anguished. “majake, we must fight.”

“this will protect the people!” jake pushed himself up, his frustration erupting, the words tumbling out in an rush of heat. “they’ve got spider. that kid knows everything. if the people harbour us, they will die.”

in a rush of clarity, your eyes cracked open. still drowsy, the words took a while to finally register in your brain. if they harbor us? where are we going?

“oh, y/n,” neytiri gasped with relief, kneeling beside you and running her slender hand over your head. “you are awake. thank you, eywa.” she whispered.

“are we leaving..? home?” your voice was barely a whisper.

neytiri’s shoulders dropped, her eyes unfocused. jake sat beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders in a silent promise of comfort.

“look, i got nothing.” he whispered gruffly, low and worn, more to her than you. he met her gaze, a silent plea for understanding. “i got no plan. but i can protect this family. that, i can do.”

neytiri blinked tears from her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. jake pulled her in, his grip tightening.

“dad.” you cut through the tension, your voice unsteady as you sat up. with a bewildered look on your face, you recaptured his attention. “are we leaving?”

jake gave neytiri a look drenched with grief. he scooted closer to you, his palm resting on your cheek. his thumb brushed your skin, as if to soothe your doubt.

then, in a picture of irony, a father reassuring his daughter delivered a killing blow—

“we’re leaving, baby. you’re… going to stay.”

—

“what?” the word tore itself from your throat, disbelieving.

the roof of the marui thundered under the feet of your siblings. done with eavesdropping, their protests rang through the air.

"you're leaving me behind?" you shot up, your feelings about the breach of faith plastered all over your face.

"jake?" neytiri's voice was sharp, a note of surprise in her words as she glanced at him, eyes narrowing.

"it's bad enough that we're not prepared for other environments." jake reasoned. "bringing a human there would make chances for uturu even slimmer."

"'a human?'" you recoiled, the sting of his words cutting deeper than expected. you, his daughter, reduced to just a human?

jake sighed, gazing at you helplessly. "you know i didn't mean it like that, baby."

“you wanna 'protect the family' and you’re abandoning me?” you said bitterly, the disbelief palpable in your voice. “suddenly i’m not a part of it anymore?”

jake’s eyes narrowed, irked by your insinuation. “of course you are part of the family.”

you rolled your eyes. didn’t feel like it.

“why were you even out there in the first place?” jake shifted closer, his eyes sharp as a blade as they bore into you.

“looking for another reason to ground me?” you shot back, voice wavered as the hurt in your chest spread.

“watch it, kid.” jake snapped, tilting his head dangerously. the command in his tone made you want to shrink, but you fought it down.

you massaged your temples, pain flaring up your arm as you were reminded of your body's current limits. jake reached out to you with concern, but you stepped back slightly, avoiding his touch. you couldn't face how pitiful he must look, not when the anger and hurt were still too fresh.

"dad, you're not serious." lo'ak came storming in. "you can't—"

"not now, boy." jake's words were clipped, unable to look his family's in their eyes.

"but sir—"

"lo'ak." neytiri cut in firmly. do not push any further.

"y/n, you will stay with norm and max. that's final." jake said, his tone resolute but tired.

you meet jake's eyes and for a moment you wonder if this was all a bad dream and you’re still passed out on the floor from the gash in your arm. you wonder, did he make the decision lightly, or did he truly have no other options? you wonder if he thought you were old enough to be on your own.

did he realize you had no purpose outside of this family he welcomed you into? if you couldn’t follow them, where else did you have to go?

“dad, i…” you faltered, unsure of what you were trying to say. out of the corner of your eye, you saw neytiri clutching her head in frustration, her gaze fixed on you with silent pain.

“i can adapt. i promise. if that’s what you’re worried about…” you continued, the words spilling out before you knew what you were saying. you weren't above begging, not if it meant staying with the only home and family you've ever known.

jake clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, anxiety and desperation flooding his every movement. “not like this, y/n. the ocean na’vi, they… they are more wary of sky people. even more than our own clan.”

your eyebrows furrowed. “i’ll keep to myself.” you whispered, hope trying its hardest to cling to your promises.

he sighed, turning away. a weight seemed to settle on you both. “no, y/n.”

“yes, i’ll keep to myself. like i always have!" you voice was rising, and your voice croaked as you pleaded with your father. "i won’t get in anyone's way. i won’t talk to anyone. i'll pull my weight too, i’ll cook and—”

"no." jake's voice cracked, anger bubbling over. “i said no! you will stay with norm and max.”

“i don’t want to stay with them.” you were reduced to childish retorts. the only thing you wanted to communicate was how much you needed them and it was flying over his head.

jake grabbed your wrist, lifting your arm slightly. he immediately dropped it when he saw your face contort in pain. “that. that is the best outcome for a run in with this guy. i’m not risking any of you getting hurt, or worse!”

“and your solution is to leave me alone with him around?” you were jake's prideful daughter, something that was only ever a problem when you got into fights. neither of you were willing to back down. so you returned his screaming match with one of your own. “no one else here would care if i was captured, and you know it.”

jake frowned. “that’s not true.”

"yes, it is. and you'd leave me here anyway!" your body couldn't decide which to choose: fight or flight? teetering between anger and distress, your hands trembled. “i don’t have a clan or an avatar to fall back on!”

“it’s final. i’ve decided.” jake's expression was unreadable, his resolve set. he cast a sideways glance at neytiri, who looked onward with silent disagreement. he ignored the churning feeling in his chest.

you laughed humourlessly. “i don’t—what’s so different about adapting to the water than the forest? it’s a learning curve i’m familiar with, i can—”

“you think it was easy bringing you in?” jake's voice dropped to a growl, and he caught your gaze with a searing glare. “you think it was easy raising you, here? i’m not doing that again.”

—

silence fell over the marui, the weight of his words pressing down on everyone. tuk held onto kiri’s hand, both girls’ gazes stuck to the ground. it was a miracle lo’ak hadn’t shoved himself into the argument. instead he was channeling that energy into pacing back and forth. neteyam was the only one strong enough to hold his head high, but a big sister’s eye could catch the way he blinked too fast and his drooping posture.

anyone would see jake was protecting his family, but all you could see was your father abandoning you. was... raising you so much of a burden as he made it out to be?

“jake.” neytiri’s call was soft, a tinge of disappointment filtering through. she rest her hands on your shoulders, as if trying to ease you into something you couldn't understand.

you shrugged her off. a burning ball of emotion was stuck in your throat, and with every shaky breath, the dam was threatening to break.

“it’s… he made himself clear. i’m going.” you muttered, gulping the heartache back down to burn up in your stomach.

jake tensed up when you finally complied. he reached out to you instinctively, but his hand paused midair. “baby, wait. please. you don’t have to go now.”

“stay, y/n? don’t go.” tuk whispered when she clung to you, her request a tether you couldn't bring yourself to break.

you felt claustrophobic. suffocated. like the universe itself was collapsing inside your chest.

"dinner?” neteyam offered a compromise, his voice tentative. ever the dutiful son.

when you looked at neteyam, all you could picture was that little kid who looked up to you as if you hung the stars in the sky. you remembered—you were still the oldest.

you glanced around the room at your siblings’ quiet dejection. in the moment, you didn't want them to go but you didn't want to stay either—in any case, you didn’t want to leave on this note.

“dinner.” you agreed, your response barely audible, snatching your effects from where they lay on the ground and storming out.

jake, stretched between guilt and uncertainty, began to start off in your direction. neytiri pulled him back, her grip tight on her husband's wrist.

“give her time.” she said simply, the three words heavy with unspoken sentiments. she barely met her husband’s eyes before stalking off.

the silence persisted long after you left.

. . .

thanks for reading <3

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce @strawbaerriesvt @avatar-lover @ryiana @lxon-kxnnedy @zukki33 @chalahyung01 @ssc7514 @shmaptainbonky

© jsooly ‘25

[thatguywrites]

Hii

I hope you've had a nice day so far

I would like to request a f1 drivers (with George)x !adhd male reader please

I've read ur stories with disabled readers and i find it so cool that u don't just use the stereotypical stuff but actually think of the struggles that come with it

Especially cause most adhd! readers are just written to be quirky and all the stuff like getting distracted easily is portrayed as funny but yk i for example struggle with stuff like that every day

So thanks for being so thorough

Im yapping again sorry haha

Please take ur time and don't feel pressured to write this

Thank youu

Drivers with Adhd Reader

I'm sorry, I tried to write for George so hard but I just couldn't 😭 I wrote for Alex instead, I hope you enjoy anyway!

This is all based on my friend's experiences, and my own research, the symptoms portrayed here are not universal, but I tried to have as large of a range as possible :)

Alex Albon

Alex fits into your ADHD beautifully

The second he notices that you are forgetful, and scatterbrained, he adapts

He puts a mini fridge in the place that he notices you always end up 'stuck' so you can still eat

Executive disfunction is a bitch :/

He WILL NOT let you forget things

Sticky notes galore

They're color coded, there's a key, it's a whole thing

He sets reminders too

Especially for meds

Your tendency to forget to take your meds worrys him

No matter what time zone he's in he'll try his best to call you to make sure you've taken your meds

Oscar Piastri

Oscar only found out when you moved in together and he saw your ADHD meds

You honestly thought you told him

Oops

Since he didn't know beforehand, he doesn't really know what is a you thing, and what is an ADHD thing

He slowly figures everything out, things that are harmless, and things that hurt you, intentional or not

Whenever he catches you forgetting to take care of yourself, he just picks you up and brings you into the bathroom

If you are too deep in executive disfunction to take care of yourself, he can just take care of you

Besides, he can show off his arms that he knows you live so much by weight lifting you

🤤🤤🤤

Yuki Tsunoda

When you first told Yuki you had Adhd, he expected all the well known symptoms

The hyperactivity, absentmindedness, everything he had seen on social media

But when he saw you forgetting to eat, and not taking care of your hygiene, he realized it was a bit different

Eventually he saw you working on school into the night, going a whole day without eating, and letting your hair get greasy by accident

At first he thought that you were just a workaholic, and you ended up bickering a bit about it

When you explained it was your Adhd, and that it wasn't intentional, he realized he didn't really understand Adhd, and threw himself into research

He starts bringing you food that he has cooked, pouting if you don't eat it

Yeah he's kinda guilt tripping you, it's for your own good!

He'll set up automatic texts to remind you to drink water and shower each night

Taglist: (Comment or DM to be added)

@koalapastries @justaf1girl @spoonfulofmilo @lokisen @op-81-lvr-reblogs

[uno-san]

Bill Cipher Vs. Self-Hatred

Howdy y'all! Today I just wanted to go over some thoughts I had over everybody's favorite triangle that may or may not have occurred to some of you already. Naturally this will contain Book of Bill Spoilers.

To start off our little essay I thought it would be important to first sum up my thoughts on one of Bill's more complicated relationships: Stanford

Now we've all seen his dynamic with Stanford plenty of times in the show but with recent information coming from both the Book of Bill and thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com more light has been shed on the subject from both Bill's perspective and Ford's.

There's more than meets the eye when it comes to dissecting Bill's interactions and thoughts on Stanford, with the ever enlightening "EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES" making theorists scratch their heads. Within the Book of Bill are these codes and their meanings: hbh grfwru ri d gliihuhqw nlqg/ zkr zdqw wr pdnh klv sdwlhqw eolqg

eye doctor of a different kind/ who wants to make his patient blind

Qeb alzqlo pxvp/ qeobb pfmp x axv/ tfii jxhb qeb sfpflkp/ dl xtxv

The doctor says/ three sips a day/ will make the visions/ go away

Ixvvb hdwhu/ edeb eloob/ zrxogq'w gulqn/ xqohvv lwv vloob

Fussy eater/ baby billy/ wouldn't drink/ unless its silly

As well as:

Finding out that both Stanford and Bill have a genetic mutation that made them Black Sheep suggests the possibility that Bill saw a kinship within Stanford. After all, he did make the offer for Stanford to join him. No doubt being able to sympathize with Stanford's situation yet misreading his motivations, causing the rift in their once savable relationship once Bill's lies were uncovered.

Now I'll admit it was others who came up with this theory in particular, especially when drawing comparisons of how Stanford was treated and how Bill allegedly was for having a strange eye. Stanford, in some form of other, might represent how Bill was before he saw the destruction of his world by his hands. A mere outcast looking for his place in the world. To be believed rather than ridiculed or "fixed".

Self-Hatred

And now we get to the Bill we all know today:

The chaos loving and nightmare inducing three-sided maniac, who may be hiding more insecurities than he ever let on in the show, thanks to the Theraprism.

Someone far more traumatized

Who's had to convince himself to fully be the bastard he is today

But if the theory that Bill had a type of kinship with Stanford thanks to their mutations was true, then wouldn't it be possible that his relationship with someone else might represent the inner struggle with himself?

For you see, the original title of this post was...

Bill Cipher Vs. Stanley Pines

As my own theory is that Stanley Pines is what Bill decided to project his self-hatred on. Nobody can doubt that the two have similar qualities, yet as I read the Book of Bill and thisisnotawebsitedotcom I couldn't help but notice the absolute malice that Bill has for Stanley whenever he's mentioned.

There have been many opponents before that have strived to take Bill down. Whether that was the Shaman, the Anti-Cipher Society, or Time Baby, none of his interactions with them have appeared as vitriol as compared to Stanley.

Not even Stanford has this same reaction, who, by really no contest, was the closest to ever defeating Cipher by himself. Both with the gun that he near successfully killed Bill with and the secret of the barrier of Gravity Falls he refused to give up. Bill didn't even have a real interaction with Stanley until the last episode.

Yet it isn't Stanford that causes Bill to break while he's in the Theraprism. It's Stanley.

"-A resume-inflating, cheap trick loving, past-denying overgrown child protected from failure only by a force field of DENIAL AND shamelessness!"

"Self-pitying"

"Stupid"

"Smug"

"Hack Jokes"

"UNWORTHY"

Now it could be just me, but those are a lot of specific insults to fling somebody's way that you've barely interacted with. Especially if Bill credits the Twin Swap to Stanford entirely as opposed to allowing Stanley the credit.

"STEP RIGHT UP, it's time to play my FAVORITE GAME!! BOOTLEG SIXER over HERE spent a LIFETIME trying to hide his humiliations, BUT I'VE BEEN INSIDE HIS MIND, so NOW they’re ALL YOURS for the low low price of BEING MY NEW PAL! ITS SHOWTIME FOLKS, AND THE ONLY WAY TO LOSE IS TO BE NAMED STANLEY PINES!"

��SHAME:TM - IT'S THE ONE FRIEND WHO NEVER LEAVES!”

This out-of-character hatred doesn't come from the fact that Bill thought Stanley wasn't worthy, it comes from the fact that Bill sees himself in Stan. Who by all means is a lying and conniving screw up. Somebody who let his family down.

This could possibly be proven by the poem Bill had wrote about Stanley:

The whole poem suits my point but I decided to highlight the sections that caught my eye specifically. That when you put into consideration Bill's clear trauma and regret about the Euclidian Massacre, his own words can clearly be flipped back on him.

That he sees himself as a curse and a mistake. A self-made monster. Someone who's left the past behind when the loss of his home is still on his mind.

And what truly gets under Bill's skin about Stanley Pines?

"He got his life and family back.

His big break, it finally came,

Redemption from a life of shame"

Stanley got back what Bill can't.

[thef1diary]

Congrats on 3k bby! So I saw the prompt “Don’t you want to play with me?” and omg is that Danny coded. Like I can see something during the offseason where he and reader are both at home, and she’s doing laundry or something and just walks in on him jerking off. And of course we all know our cocky mf has no shame and is just like, “what, you were busy?”

Thank you for encouraging my brainrot 💛

Off-Season | D. Ricciardo

a/n: thank you lovely! I will always encourage danny brainrot and I loved writing this one. 18+ content

prompt: “don’t you want to play with me?”

wc: 600+

masterlist 3k celebration

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

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The off-season usually meant some much needed downtime for you and Daniel. Yet, even with Daniel at home during the break, you found yourself busier than ever. You've been sorting out the house, tackling chores that have piled up while you were travelling to accompany Daniel during the hectic racing season. Today, you've decided to finally start doing laundry, the heap of clothes growing until it was impossible to ignore. As you headed to your bedroom to collect the laundry basket, your mind was running through the mental to-do list that never seemed to end. You opened the door to your bedroom and came to an abrupt halt.

Daniel is there, naked, sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand wrapped around his cock. His strokes are slow and deliberate, his eyes immediately locking onto yours as you entered.

You stare at him, momentarily taken aback. Your gaze roams over his body shamelessly, taking in every detail as if it was the first time you've seen him naked. His curls are messy, indicating that he ran his hand through it multiple times. His bottom lip is bitten raw, a sign that he's been holding back his moans, trying to stifle the breathy whispers of your name as he edges closer to an orgasm. Daniel's thighs are spread, giving you a clear view of every inch of his tattoos. His hand is fisted around his cock, precum coating his fingers.

You snap out of your trance when a low groan leaves his lips, still moving his hand up and down his cock in a teasing manner. His eyes meet yours again, a playful glint shining in them.

"Don't you want to play with me?" he asks, his voice a mixture of amusement and desire.

"Seriously, baby?" you asked, a smirk curling at your lips.

"What? you were busy," he spoke casually, as if it was a good explanation.

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "What were you thinking about?" you asked, your tone turning sultry as you take a step closer, the laundry basket you were here for momentarily forgotten.

"You, of course," he replied without hesitation, his eyes darkening with lust as they trace the curve of your body.

"What about me?" you lean closer to him, your voice dripping with seduction.

“How much better it would feel to have your mouth around my cock instead of my hand," he breathed, his gaze locked on your lips.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you let his words sink in. "Is that so?" you whispered, your voice low and teasing. You let your fingers graze the inside of his thighs, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch.

With one hand, you gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail and kneel in front of him, settling between his spread legs. His breath hitches, and you see the anticipation in his eyes, moving his hand away from his cock. He gently pushes a loose strand of hair that slipped away from your grasp away from your face.

Just as he thinks you're about to wrap your lips around him, especially with the way your lips parted, you reach under the bed and grab a couple of dirty socks. His eyes widen in disbelief as you stand up, tossing the socks into the laundry basket.

He calls your name when you pick up the basket, turning to head out the door. You pause, looking at him expectantly. Daniel struggles to string a sentence together, but he manages to ask, "are you kidding me?"

You chuckle, giving him a playful glance. "Maybe you should stick to using your imagination since you couldn't wait for me."

He groans, falling back on the bed as he hears the door click shut, his cock still painfully hard awaiting your warm mouth.

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taglist: @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @gxuh @67-angelofthelordme-67 @kigieri @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @namjoonswaifu @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @mehrmonga @wobblymug @bokutos-babyowl @chilling-seavey

[northern-passage]

what have i been up to?

i decided to do a little check-in type post just to let you all know what i've been working on. i know things have been quiet here, mainly because i'm just not as active on social media as i used to be (but especially here)

i have been working on tnp, though. i've been rewriting chapter 2 (what was previously chapter 1) and i know a lot of people complain about rewrites but the fact was simply that i had written myself into a corner; when it comes to IF, when you have a lot of stats and branching and variations to track, you get to a point where it simply does not make sense to try and force it, and i really needed to go back and fix my coding and cut a lot of variables. which is what i've been doing, and many of you have seen how that's changed the game so far with the rewritten prologue (now chapter 1).

with that in mind, i've also done a lot of worldbuilding. again, you've seen some of this if you saw the pantheon post i made a while ago (though some of that has changed already, too, along with more edits to chapter 1 😅) and i've put a lot more thought into the setting, how the world "works" and the different relationships between countries and cultures, etc.

i will be yapping about all of that under the cut if you're interested, but if not, just know i am still working on the game. i do not have an estimated timeline for an update, but i am trying very hard to get chapter 2 out this year.

anyways, my rambling:

one of the main changes will be how Gael and Adrania function. Gael and Adrania remain similar in essence but the relationship has changed, as has the source of their hostilities. i've also put a lot more thought into the way gender roles would work in this world, something that i've previously been a bit wishy-washy on. reading more fantasy and studying lectures on the craft and understanding the way oppression works in the real world has allowed me to brainstorm a better, more realized world with tnp.

that being said, i still stand by my original goal with this project, which is that i'm not really interested in writing violent/graphic misogyny, transphobia, or homophobia. but i am interested in exploring the way empires hold power, and for tnp, that has always been through money and trade. even in the very first iterations, the major cities like blackwater and king's harbor are designed with very clear and purposeful class divides, i've just put a lot more thought into how this would actually work.

and there is also the influence of the gods; when your major religious figurehead is revered as a "mother," as well as the enforcer of justice, what does that mean for the world and the women in it? when you have gods that are genderless or genderfluid, how does that change societies perception of trans people, and gender as a whole?

i struggled when i started tnp about how to depict gender in this world, and originally i simply chose not to give it much thought, and i used a lot of anachronisms rather than actually trying to explore what transness and gender within the context of tnp would look like (i think this was my biggest mistake with Lea at the start. if you remember that you're a real one lol). and i think that's a cop out and simply not how any society would work. Adrania is an empire; people will be forced to comply to various roles and expectations in order for this empire to retain control.

so this led me to 1. reimplement the tolls, something that was present in my very first draft but got scrapped before publishing for the first time. it's easy to control people when you have papers and tolls to track them (or restrict their movements if they don't have the "correct" papers). 2. expand on the relationship between Gael and Adrania. where did these two countries come from? when did they split? how has Adrania managed to grow in power while Gael has not? and how has the plague exacerbated the hostilities? etc. we'll see a lot of this explained in the next chapter (as well as some edits made to chapter 1 again), with Adrania's trade agreements and how they exclude Gael specifically.

and finally, what gender roles are people expected to play within society? if Adrania's main god is a woman (okay, a wolf, but you get it) and a mother and also known to be a ruthless dispenser of justice, what does this mean for Adranian men and women? if their god of death is genderless and also commonly represented as a god of dreams and transitions (from life to death and wakefulness to dreams and from one gender to another or beyond) how does this impact the trans people in this world? if the god of war and harvest is sometimes a woman and sometimes a man, who benefits from elevating one depiction over the other?

lots of fun questions! which i think has led to some interesting changes in the game which makes the world feel more real. it also gives me a reason (not that i "needed" one but, ya know *gestures vaguely*) for all of the women i have in combat leadership roles: Keres, Hadrien, and Merry, just to name a few, and why someone like Redwine would be disliked and challenged as a political, landowning leader instead (and ultimately replaced by a man). while all the warrior gods are women (Wolfmother, the Moon, Stormbringer), Adrania emphasizes the male depiction of the Sun, which leads to this divide of men seeking landownership and more administrative political roles, versus women who, outside of motherhood, make careers as generals and captains and knights.

with trans people, there are similar expectations, of course, but they are also pushed towards more spiritual roles due to their perceived kinship with the death god as well as the Sun (and this also means that while motherhood is revered in this world, there is a looser definition here than in our world, due to transness being acknowledged, accepted, and an integral part of society. what "motherhood" is and what it means to people will be explored heavily in game, you just have to trust me on this one!) obviously there is a real history of trans people being seen this way, and it's something i've turned over in my head for a while. beyond the spiritual, though, trans people are seen in every other role as well, and we'll see some trans people who have little to no relationship with religion or the death god (like Merry, Lea, Clementine, Rodrick, and Rafe) and others that have an actively hostile relationship with it (Noel. lol) and including the potentially trans mc, we see a diverse depiction of trans people, as hunters and watchers and captains and healers and bards, etc. i'm hoping this still gives a well-rounded, multi-faceted look at how trans people live in this world without pigeonholing them solely as "divine oracles," or othering them from their cis counterparts.

overall, i feel that i've matured as a writer since i started tnp and i want that to reflect in the world as well. rereading the original demo made me cringe and a lot of it just felt very childish and flat, and i feel like i really didn't have a strong enough grasp on the fantasy genre, nor the skills and knowledge required to do proper, intensive worldbuilding at the time. now i think the story and setting and characters have grown a lot and i'm more capable and confident to do the things that past me couldn't. anyways thanks for reading all this, this post was just an excuse for me to talk about everything because i'm dying keeping it all to myself LOL. i look forward to catching back up to chapter 3 and finally sharing it all with you eventually!

[eunandonly]

BOYNEXTDOOR AS KILLERS

in the end, no matter how you run or hide, you're already theirs

( 対 ) boynextdoor + gn. reader 1087WC · thriller? tbh idk what this is contains! language, death, homicide, substances / archive

은 : this idea came into my head during calculus and i had to write it. please keep in mind that this does not reflect the true personality of the idols!! enjoy ~

myung jaehyun 

you’d like myung jaehyun. everyone does. he walks into a room and fits in seamlessly, his presence neither too bold nor too forgettable. people gravitate towards him, drawn to his warm voice, the way he listens just enough to make you feel important. he’s friendly–a little too friendly. he’s the kind of person you’d trust without realising why, and that’s exactly what he wants.

his work is quiet, meticulous. he infiltrates, observes, gathers information piece by piece during seemingly innocent conversations until you’ve handed him everything he needs without ever suspecting a thing. by the time you feel like something’s off, by the time you feel the shift–when his eyes turn cold, when his presence settles in a way that makes your stomach sink–it’s already over.

his kills aren’t messy. there’s no need for amateur dramatics. a swift movement, a blade between the ribs, a whispered apology that means nothing no matter how much you try to pretend it is. 

if it makes you feel better, myung jaehyun doesn’t enjoy killing you.

it’s just that that’s his role, and he’s really damn good at it.

“it’s not personal. but if it makes you feel better, you can pretend it is.”

park sungho

park sungho doesn’t get close. why would he when he doesn’t need to? his work is done from rooftops, from miles away, from places where no one even thinks to look.

clearly, you didn't think to look either.

everything in his world is measured in distances, in calculations, the exact weight of the trigger against his finger. wind speed, bullet drop, breathing patterns–he keeps all those factors in mind without hesitation. killing isn’t personal to him. it’s not some cliche act of vengeance or cruelty or whatever shit you've seen in movies. it’s just science, and he’s perfected it.

you would never never see it coming. one moment, you’re alive and breathing, caught up in whatever meaningless thing you’re doing. the next? your world turns black. no struggle, no warning. just the soft whisper of a bullet finding its mark. and sungho never misses

people talk about luck. they call his skill unnatural, but there’s nothing unnatural about inevitability. a bullet for you will always find its way.

“if you heard the shot, it wasn’t meant for you.”

lee sanghyuk

you don't even realise he's there. but he's watching. always watching.

lee riwoo doesn’t need a weapon. doesn’t need to be in the same room. doesn’t even need to exist.

his world isn’t flesh and blood–he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty like that, no. it’s code, data, systems meant to be impenetrable until he decides otherwise. cctv footage glitches at just the right moment. bank accounts drain in seconds. entire case files vanish from police databases, as if they were never there to begin with.

he exists everywhere and nowhere at the same time. a name whispered in law enforcement circles with no face attached, no records, no proof. they search for him, try to pin him down, but how do you catch something that isn’t real?

he sees more than he speaks. listens more than he moves. he knows everything about you before you even realise he’s watching. passwords, addresses, the embarrassing text you deleted five years ago. he keeps it all tucked away, waiting. and if you become a problem? he erases you from existence, just like he does with those cctv footages and case files.

“funny. you really thought you were off the grid?”

han dongmin

you hear the stories. the ones about a killer too smart to be caught.

you tell yourself it’s just a rumor. that he’s not real. that people like him don’t exist.

but then you meet han taesan. and suddenly, you’re not so sure.

he watches you, studies you, make a game out of it. his kills aren't random–he doesn't just blindly pick a random person on the street as his next victim–and they're never sloppy. han taesan doesn't kill because he has to. he kills because he enjoys it. because it's fun. and he's really fucking good at it.

his murders are carefully orchestrated, a masterpiece. he leaves just enough clues to make you think you're close, just enough hope to make you believe you'll figure it out, only to rip it away at the last second. he's loves watching you scramble, loves knowing you'll never catch him.

han taesan always wins at the game.

“they always think they’re smarter than me. it’s kind of cute, actually.”

kim donghyun 

you don’t even feel it at first. that’s the beauty of it.

it’s not a gunshot, not a stab wound, not something dramatic. no, kim leehan doesn’t do theatrics. his kills are quiet, elegant. a tasteless drop in a glass of wine, a slow-acting toxin hidden in perfume, a lethal dose disguised as medicine. by the time you realize what’s happening, it’s already inside you.

he specialises in making deaths look natural. a heart attack, an allergic reaction, an unfortunate accident. even the most skilled doctors find nothing suspicious.

kim leehan enjoys watching. he watches as you sip your poisoned tea whilst you laugh, unaware that it’ll be your last. he watches as panic sets in, as your body betray you. and then, when you finally realise what’s happening, he simply smiles before giving you a little finger gun at your last gasp of breath.

“i wonder how long it’ll take before you figure it out.”

kim woonhak

you think you’re strong. that you won’t break.

you’re wrong.

kim woonhak enjoys the process. he’s patient. he takes his time. it’s not just about the pain–it’s about control. the way people break at different speeds, how fear changes the way they breathe, how the ones that claim to be the strong and tough are always the ones who beg the loudest in the end.

those type of people pisses woonhak off.

he doesn’t ask questions right away. that’s too easy. instead, he talks. he jokes. he makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’ll make it out of this. he leans in close, tilts his head, smiles like he’s curious about you. and for a second, you think he’s not so bad.

but then the real work begins.

he knows exactly how much to wait before pushing just a little further. it’s not about the information. it’s about watching the moment you break, knowing he's the one who did it.

"you’re shaking. are you scared? or are you finally realising how much fun i’m having?"

[lullabyes22-blog]

Hi lullabyes, would u mind sharing your take on the flashback with young Silco, Vander, and Felicia? :O

It's adorable. It's touching. It's sweet. It's a serene moment of intimacy and family (or polycule) bonding in an otherwise deeply frenetic season.

It's also so surreal it may as well be a fever dream.

I should note, at this stage I've shut off my cognitive reasoning about Arcane and begun approaching this as if it's a series of exquisitely crafted, animated short films that are all about to collide into a beautiful disaster.

Because that's what it is.

S2 has thrown a lot of the intelligent plotting out the window to embrace the chaos.  Whether due to time constraints, intellectual fatigue, or creative indulgence, I feel like we have a show that's now just hurtling breakneck towards the finish line. Previous story threads that once held weight and were the driving force behind character arcs and subplots, have since been abandoned. Nuanced motivations and character growth are being tossed to the wayside for the sake of action, montages, music videos, and a cavalier, anything-goes approach to world-building.

And yet, it's still such an incredible spectacle to behold.

@ravenkinnie delightfully noted that she is now watching this show with her pussy.

I agree 100%. S2 is a full-body experience, and one I find myself wholly consumed by. It's like a one-night stand you weren't expecting to be so fucking good. And when the sun comes up, you know it's going to hurt to say goodbye, and there'll be no follow-up call.

But damn, you enjoyed the shit out of that experience.

So yeah, the flashback was fucking adorable. I love the genuine emotion and closeness between the three characters. I adore the idea of Felicia, Silco and Vander being childhood friends (or, again, a very messy polycule) and both men sort of falling apart without her Manic Pixie Dream Girl presence in their lives. It's a nice little character arc.

However.

I cannot reconcile this scene with the rest of S1. It feels completely disconnected from the reality of the show and the world around them. The flashback has absolutely no impact on the current events, nor does it have any foreshadowing. The flashback exists solely to provide us with a glimpse into the past, with sweet little parallels to serve as bonbons that make us coo and sigh. It completely glosses over Silco's deeply, blackly visceral hatred of Vi in S1, reduces the class struggle culminating in the Day of Ash to "Oh, Silco. If only you've protested for your basic civil rights in a peaceful manner instead of tossing a molotov cocktail, you'd still have your family, a place in the community, not to mention your eye," does not really explain why Benzo reacted to Silco's appearance by calling him an animal, and, most importantly, gives the lie to the entire dynamic between Silco and Jinx.

We were led to believe that Felicia's death was the catalyst for Silco and Vander's falling out.  That if Silco had found Vander's letter in their little Brokeback bunk, they would've worked out their differences and found peace together. That they'd have raised Felicia's anklebiters side-by-side as the Zaundads of the revolution.

Except Silco is also the man selling Evil Anime PCP (Shimmer) as an economic cheat-code to earn respect for his people, and Vander is basically Captain Centrist and traumatized by war, and there is NO WAY they would've seen eye-to-eye on their respective methods. There's no way they would've come to any sort of accord. And there's no way Silco would've forgiven the man who mutilated and left him possibly sheared of half his lifespan, any more than Felicia's children would forgive the man who killed their mother.

It's such an incongruous narrative beat.

Which brings me to the other point:

Silco and Jinx.

imo, while I love the idea of Silco carrying either a secret torch for Felicia, or seeing her as a sister he'll always love, and while I absolutely treasure the idea of Jinx being a daily reminder of what he's fighting for - "I'm doing this for us, Jinx." - it sort of cheapens the key connection between them. In S1, Silco and Jinx's arc is, in my eyes, one of the best things about the series, and so incredibly well-written and executed. Silco is a monster, yes, but his monstrosity is the product of systemic and individual trauma, and the inextricable bleedthrough between the two. Finding this little girl and bringing her up under his wing, he has the chance to be the steadying hand and safe harbor he lost after Vander's betrayal. His monstrousness is not something he inflicts on her; it is something that, rather, grows on JInx like a kudzu vine, as the terrain of her damaged mind is already fertile for his worldview and methods to take root and thrive.

He is, perhaps, the best example of nurture triumphing over nature, even if his nurturing is rather, uh, extreme.

But if their bond is predicated on Felicia, rather than two strangers finding each other in the wilderness of heartbreak and learning to let their black hearts beat, messily entwined, as one family unit, and if Silco's obsession with Jinx is merely a projection of his guilt for killing her mother, and, by extension, a projection of his love for Felicia onto her daughter...

It's just.

Do y'all remember those uncomfortable frames that the showrunners admitted were deliberate, despite the evidence in the written text suggesting a familial bond? The subtext that, all the way into S2, carries the implication of a romantic relationship between a father and his daughter?

Well.

The implications now threaten to melt into explicit text, and the uncomfortable frames have turned into Unfortunate Implications, and I am not sure how I feel about this.

 It's not giving Lily and Snape; it's giving Sansa and Baelish.

It's giving the showrunners a big, fat "YEESH" rating from CPS.

And it's giving us the same, old, tired trope of a monstrous man unable to form an attachment unless it's through the lens of prior attachments, that whole 'You remind me so much of her' and the like.

 (I also admit I am the world's biggest hypocrite as the entire premise of Forward but Never Forget/XOXO is that the core foursome of Vander, Silco, Lika and Sevika knew each other, and that those ghosts haunt the machinery of the present day. But I try my damnedest to make plain there's politics buffeting all these relationships, and despite all their efforts to claw at self-sovereignty, reinvention and a new order, the past is a stubborn bitch that refuses to let go.)

(Also in FnF, Silco is triggered by Lika rather than into her in any affectionate or romantic way, because they're so similar: pragmatic survivors who aren't above rule-bending to get their way, and at their core just want a smoke break, a stiff drink, and a nap. It's a mutual respect rather than an affection, which is why she bestows on him the dubious honor of mercy killing her if she's too wounded on the Day of Ash to continue on.)

(He's the one person who could, and would, do her the service. It's kinship, and Jinx is the bright torch of their shared ambitions and ingenuity given both wing and voice.)

But anyway.

The flashback is a fever-dream. The kind you have when you're high on cold meds and can't think straight, and the world is a blur of sensations and memories that seem vivid in the moment but melt away into madness when you're better. It's a scene meant to be savored rather than interrogated. And I think if the showrunners had the time and inclination, we would've gotten a second episode solely dedicated to the flashback, rather than shoehorning it in. But since they're clearly trying to tie everything up with a neat bow before the finale, I don't blame them for having to skim past it and focus on the vibes/emotional resonance rather than the substance of a meaningfully written scene.

But hey.

Fanfic writers will have a field day with the open-ended dynamic and the fandom will never fucking stop, so that's nice.

Also we got loads of fantastic gifs of Young Silco. Bless.

<3

tl;dr: I've switched my critical brain off and decided to just enjoy the ride. It's so fucking epic. 

Also, Felicia was delightful and I hope her brotherhood/polycule/whatever with Silco and Vander gets its own spinoff, a la Road to El Dorado (or Zaun.)

[ask-codeearasure]

So... About that shitty Cross take that one person made....

If you've been following certain creators, even this account, I'm sure you've spotted a specific idiot going around complaining about Cross being Trans-Coded and using Republican talking points to say that it's "forced" or "doesn't make sense" and whatever other bullshit that shouldn't even be looked at let alone acknowledged. HOWEVER, instead, we are gonna sit down and talk about how the Trans Experience is so versatile and why Cross (and similar characters) being Trans-Coded is actually extremely important.

Gender nonconformity is fucking terrifying to Republicans, this is why it's been one of this generation's favorite punching bags.

If you look at the women who are tied to the Republican Party, you see a lot of hyperfemininity, so much so it's easy to tell that Barbie is considering suing them for stealing all her plastic.

Jokes aside, gender affirming care is gender affirming care and they are using the same gender affirming care that trans people have been using for years. This isn't only about nail products and cosmetic surgery, but also breast reduction or implant surgeries.

Gender affirming care however, is demonized by the right because they don't get it nor do they acknowledge that there is a range to it.

I once read a story about how one person had realized they were trans because a friend of theirs pointed out that when they had the option of choosing the gender of their playable characters in gaming, they always went with the gender they were not assigned at a birth. Example being an AFAB person constantly choosing male characters.

Though I have not finished watching Underverse this is applicable of XFrisk and XChara shoving the name "Cross" onto... Cross. They are pointing out he is not Sans despite being assigned that name since creation. Their true intentions here had cruelty in mind, but Cross made the name his own.

He is in denial about it which is applicable to how a LOT of trans people are in denial about it sometimes. Hell I remember a Right Wing talking head on Twitter who had tried to transition, detransistioned due to pressure from their family and then stayed at their assigned gender because of it and falling for the Republican propaganda.

Denial isn't just a river. It never has been.

Some people are in denial about their gender identities and sexual orientation and with the coming presidency we are going to see a rampant uptick in that statistic. With that coming, characters like Cross are needed far more.

Cross's story, as far as I've seen, is rough and follows a lot of self-acceptance and self-advocating storylines. Even when it comes to the biggest things that anyone from the LGBTQIA+ has to face, one of these struggles being the fear of rejection and/or being rejected by one's peers.

From what I've seen when it comes to spoilers is that Cross does end up being rejected by those he was close to before meeting Ink, and thus has to come full circle and accept himself by saying "I am Cross". He has to deny the name he went by in the past. He has to because if he doesn't, he'd be giving in to living in denial of who he truly is and thus be living a life of suffering for no reason than to keep others comfortable, setting himself on fire to keep people who couldn't give a damn about him warm.

A lot of Trans people have to show their rejection of their past or even the acceptance of that past to come to terms with themselves. Each person is different when it comes down to finding who they are and accepting that. It depends on the individual.

Some treat their past and their deadname as though they're a completely different person or someone who died so they could live. Think of a phoenix rising from the ashes.

Others treat it like their past self was the caterpillar where their new and true self is the butterfly.

Is it perfect?

No.

Is Jakei a perfect writer?

No. Neither are a lot of my favorite writers and franchises (I'm looking at you Riot Games and your shitty centrist takes on the worst of human history's sins).

But some of the things that imperfect writers make are beautiful and Cross is one of them. He is one of the few characters that speaks for the writer when it comes to saying "I see you, I see your pain. I see your suffering. You are not alone. You deserve to live your life the way you want to. You are valid."

But there are a few questions that the more clueless of people are going to ask.

Why bring Politics into this? And why do Republicans like the media made by progressives?

The answers are FASCINATING.

I bring Politics into this because Republicans, specifically Cishet white people, have made everything political since the beginning of time. Everything they don't like, everything different from them, everything they don't understand, and everything that directly rebels against their patriarchal idea of "paradise" is now considered "Political".

I remember a Republican had argued the dumbest thing once, and I was so dumbfounded I had to take a step back because holy shit.

Their argument was that black people enslaved each other which made their enslavement by white people their own fault.

Now if your jaw is on the floor, you already know where the problem is. If you don't get where the problem, is let me ask you something.

If that is the case, who was the one who made it all about skin color?

I'll tell you.

It was the white people (who were Democrats before the massive party switch, which makes them modern day Republicans).

Who were the ones who made having jobs all about gender? It was the Cishet white men (99% of whom are Republicans).

Who constantly demonized the LGBTQIA+ community during the Stonewall Riots? Mostly Cishet White Republicans.

Who are demonizing Trans people right the fuck now? Republicans and Pick-Me Gay people who vote for Republicans and side with Republicans thinking that the Republicans will finally accept them when they know Republicans won't fucking do it.

Being LGBTQIA+, making non-white characters, making a character a woman, it makes that character "Political", and "Political" characters are always the ones put on the spot for accusations of "forced diversity" and "perversion" where anyone with a working sense of conscience will understand this is a talking point butthurt Republicans or those warped by Republicans pulled out of their assholes looking for a problem where there isn't one.

All art, be it animation, digital art, traditional art, singing, writing, is political. They've always been political.

Do you want to know why Republicans are always bitching about coffee orders? It's because the Enlightenment era thus leading to the Romantic Era of literature was started because of coffee shops it was where all the best writers hung out. The moment they met each other and started talking to each other, the Enlightenment and Romantic Eras started taking off in full force.

It is because of the Enlightenment and Romantic Era writers we don't have Child Labor anymore. A lot of their writing brought talks of nature and the horrors of Child Labor into question. You can't talk about the history of Child Labor without talking about William Blake's Chimney Sweeper and Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Cry of the Children. You fucking can't. Without Blake and Browning we'd still have children in mines and on rooftops risking their lives to clean your fucking chimney.

And here is where we get to the why. Why Republicans LOVE progressive media.

Here is a little secret.

All shows and media made by Republicans are shit because it is all Propaganda.

I know. Shocker.

Look around.

Mr. Birchum, New Norm, Leo and Layla, it's all propaganda. It's all the same Republican talking points that they never shut up about and even then they don't know what they're talking about.

Ask a Republican what "intersex" means. Do it, I dare you.

They won't fucking know but they'll tell you that it's Satanic and shouldn't be allowed near children.

They'd never guess that it's a spectrum of natural gender nonconformity and mixed sexual/hormonal characteristics such as having PCOS or being AMAB and still having a functioning uterus. They don't care that their delusions about there only being "male" and "female" for reproductive sex options has led to medical malpractice, social abuse, murder, and erasure of intersex individuals, and the ones that do know about intersexuality diagnose it as a "Differential Sexual Development Disorder" as if just being born intersex makes someone's existence inherently wrong with an inherent need for surgical and hormonal "correcting".

Republicans like progressive media because it knows how to say something and still be well written. This is why Republicans LOVE Star Trek, Star Wars, My Little Pony Friendship is Magic, and Arcane.

It's all progressive media but it all knows how to build a world and say something. Good writers are progressive and know how to write.

Don't get me wrong there is a LOT of fucking garbage that tries to be progressive but that is a small outlier that Republicans LOVE to bring out and bash on to say that we're the ones who ruin media. They make false equivalences to try to make you stop thinking. They need stop-thinking clichés and talking points because it's all they have. But they are so fucking terrified of anything different from what is in their stupid bubble that saying "Oh yeah the champion Taliya is trans" will send them screaming and crying.

Yeah, Riot Games danced around the fact that one of their characters is Trans because they knew she'd scare off the entirety of the Republican player base. They had to hide it and use her magical girl skin to gently hint at it with "Yeah when I'm in this outfit I feel more like myself!" and the entire multi hour long Star Guardian album animation having the Trans Flag being the main pallet on everything.

I honestly wonder how many Republicans ran off when they saw THAT CaitVi scene in Arcane.

Republicans just hate anything that isn't Cis, isn't Hetero, isn't a man, and isn't white. This is why it's not uncommon to find that cishet white men are always found at Klan rallies or the modern Klan rallies which are called "Trump Rallies" these days.

This is why a lot of exhausted Democrats, Liberals, and BIPOC, Feminists, and LGBTQIA+ people have been laughing their asses off at the Pick-Mes who are getting fucked over now that they realize that surprise surprise, Project 2025 was the plan! We fucking told you so, dipshit!

This is what you asked for dumbass! We tried to warn you. You didn't listen. LESSON FUCKIN LEARNT!

Republicans like progressive shit because we make good media.

Republicans HATE anything that isn't CISHET and WHITE.

Now, am I saying all this to claim the person who made that anti-trans Cross post is a Republican, an abuser, or anything else that contributed to this systematic nonsense? Absolutely fucking not. That's an extreme statement to make and they're most likely just a very mislead kid who may or may not have been influenced by a couple of these problems, and them acting out the way they did is perhaps a reflection of how important it is to acknowledge these things even if our community is just fandom and the point is to have fun, to have a distraction from all the bad powers at play.

Either way, their actions pissed me off. Hope they learn.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Get the fuck out.

-- Ouija

[evertidings]

— AUGUST 2024.

accomplishments.

hello helloooooo!! how's everyone doing? i don't know if you've seen my teaser post recently (pspspsspsp) but chapter eleven is on its way!! i know, i know, it's been a hot minute since i've released anything and i'm sure you've heard enough from me about how difficult it's been to get here, but we made it everyone.

hallelujah.

i have a date in mind but i'm going to keep it to myself for a little longer, at least until i'm a little farther along in the editing process. as i'm sure some of you may know, once i finish writing a chapter, my routine is to go through two rounds of edits, code and then send the chapter off to beta-testers. i'm still stuck on round one of edits (someone save me), so i still have some ways to go, but we're a lot closer to release than ever before, so it's very exciting.

i mentioned this in an ask recently, but i'm super nervous for this chapter. i wrote it over a span of several months, with writer's block plaguing me at every step of the way, so some of what i'm editing right now is quite literally from january and february. if any of you are writers, you know how much your style can change in a short time, so reading some of this really has my head spinning. i don't actually know what i was trying to say for some of these scenes, but that's what this is for.

usually, editing and coding are my two least favourite stages (and as a result, the two stages i struggle with the most), so please wish me luck as i power through this!

in the meantime, i will be looking for some new beta-testers for chapter eleven so if you're interested, i've created a little form for you that you can find here. i'll post about this separately in the coming days, but if anyone is curious now, here you go!

alright, back to editing now! as always, thank you for sticking by me and waiting patiently. i truly hope this chapter lives up to your expectations. i'll talk to you very very soon <3

[sherewrytes]

T. A. R (Time, Appreciation, Respect)

(I'll always want you part 2)

Synopsis: Ony was calling Y/N constantly these days, trying to always reach out to talk and say his piece. Y/N wasn't sure if she was ready for it.

C.W. Angst, Black coded reader, Drug use (weed). Song links used as reference.

Fanfic inspired by the following song.

Solange: Cranes in the sky

Link for part one here

Time had passed since your confrontation with Ony on that fateful night. The sting of betrayal still lingered, casting a shadow over your every thought and action. You still find herself unable to shake the memories of everything that took place between you and Ony and the raw emotions it had unleashed.

It's 2:30 AM. You lie awake, replaying the conversation with Ony in your mind. A part of you acknowledges he may be right, yet you find it impossible to converse without being overwhelmed by emotions.

You heard Annie out on her part to play in all this but not Ony. You didn't have class until 2pm today so you had enough time to sleep some more if needed. You got out of bed, stretched, went to your desk to journal to clear your mind.

You lit the candle on your desk, opened your journal and poured your feelings into it. The pen felt heavy in your hand, similar to how your heart felt in your chest. You wrote about the confusion swirling within you, torn between the logic of Ony's words and the ache of betrayal that still lingered deep within your soul. Memories flashed through your mind of happier times, of sad times and every moment in between. You knew you should hear him out but, you couldn't decide if you were ready or not.

You closed the journal and texted Sasha to see if she was awake. You needed someone to talk to. Sasha responded almost immediately saying she's in the area, so she'd be over in a few and she has Connie and Eren with her.

You sighed and responded. You went to your kitchen to make a quick midnight snack for you and your quests. 15 mins later, at your apartment is Sasha, Connie and Eren.

Connie: "Is it okay if I smoke in here. Between Uni, my music shit and other shit. I'm stressed out."

You: "It's cool. I do smoke sometimes, well used to with Ony. Speaking of Ony. He's been calling my phone nonstop.

*Turns to Eren* He said you've been on his ass about me. Eren the fuck you on boy.

Eren sighed "Look I'm just looking out for him. Ony is taking this harder that I've seen him take anything. Him and I go way back. Ony only shows up to class, messages me for some weed well hella weed. He aint even in the studio much either."

You knew Eren, Connie, Mikasa and Ony were music majors at Paradis University which you all attended. Eren was the lowkey producer type that makes beats to rival the greats. Connie is a rising hip hop artist and Ony is a cross between Trap Soul and Rap. Mikasa was the soulful girl with a beautiful voice. You knew Ony never missed studio time for nothing, so you knew he was struggling.

"When last did he show up." Y/N asked Eren with some concern in her tone.

"Probably 2 months ago before that it was 3 months before that. Look you don't have to force yourself to talk to him or bear his wounds or help him heal from the mess he made on his own. It ain't your job to, What I'm asking is if you can hear him out even if its 5 minutes if you can't then Imma tell him to drop it."

You sat in silence for a bit truly wondering what to do, so you turned to Sasha. "Honestly I want to hear him out, I do but I need more time. I know everyone thinks I forgave Annie so easy, but Ony and I had something deeper than Annie and I had even with our years of friendship. Ya we were fighting and at odds that time but..I know I'm being dumb cause Annie is just as responsible as he was. I just need to clear my head some more."

Connie took a toke of his joint and passed it to Eren then Eren to Sasha. Sasha pulled out her phone and connected it to the speakers in your apartment and started playing L.E.S by Childish Gambino. They all passed the joint around the room you took a few hits here and there. Eren was mindlessly scrolling through his IG to see Ony posted a 15 sec video on IG with a link in the caption to his YouTube to his latest track Amphetamine.

Eren blurted out with a bit of shock, "What the fuck, Ony just dropped a new song. It looks like he changed his artist's name from Ony to Soro. I mean he mentioned the change last time he came in the studio. Yo Sasha disconnect real quick lemme listen to this real quick."

Sasha disconnected her phone to allow Eren to pull up the track. " The song is almost 8 mins WTF is Ony on" Eren says.

The beat kicks in with this smooth, laid-back vibe that immediately hooks you in. Everyone's silent giving the track a listen.

" It's like an amphetamine, how it marinate on my mind (stuck on me, yah) Got no doubt I'll be alright, if I just make it through the night."

You can hear, almost feel the range of emotions in the song. You can hear Ony's voice pouring out his feelings. The beat changes around 2:48 seconds in giving a whole different vibe to the song.

"Shawty cold as December, I still fold her, no Manila B-b-b-brr wit me baby, I hibernate, smoke the lettuce."

Everyone was vibing with the song until they heard Mikasa's voice drop on the track around 4:28 Everyone a bit surprised since Mikasa doesn't easily do features even if it's with her friends. Connie laughed a bit "He got Mikasa on this with him. Damn he really went all out. Aye Eren aint this the same beat he said he didn't want around 5 maybe 6 months ago?" Eren laughed thinking back to when he played this beat for Ony, and he said he hated it. Ony owed him big time for this, but he'll circle back to it. As the song finished. You sat with your eyes full of tears. You thought to yourself that you could feel every emotion Ony sang about in the song. The loss of their relationship, his struggles with his mental health and so much more.

Connie was the first the chime in when the song ended "Damn that was.... deep." "Yah it was Ony really flipped the script on this one." Eren chimed in.

Eren got a notification that Ony was live on IG. He clicked on it. He saw he was talking about his just dropped song and other usual shit that's going on in his life.

Ony's eyes were the newfound usual shade of slight bloodshot red from smoking and hardly any sleep. He was reading off a comment asking him who inspired him to write the song. he responded with "Someone but also no one."

Ony's voice flowed through the speakers in your apartment causing Eren to disconnect his phone to watch the live a bit easier.

He commented saying "Fire track man, wish you'd let me know you were droppin a song man."

Ony read the comment out loud and smirked and said "Sorry man. I wanted it to be a personal project, but I owe you one big time for the beat."

Ony and Eren were engaging in their usual banter in the comments of Ony's Instagram live. You were deep in thought when Ony read aloud a comment from someone claiming his song was inspired by his ex-girlfriend. Ony and you had a semi-public relationship, which is due to his rising fame as a Trap Soul/rap artist.

Ony sighed, his mind drifting back to the last time he saw you in person, when you came to return his belongings from your place. He had seen you around campus since then, but it simply wasn't the same. His response was "It was inspired by pain. Pain of loss, loss of love, loss of hopes, loss of dreams. Loss of self. She's part of something I lost in my life."

Ony paused, his gaze drifting off as he recalled the bittersweet memories. He took a deep breath, trying to push away the ache in his chest as he continued, his voice laden with emotion. "So yeah, she's part of what I lost, but 'Amphetamine' is also about finding myself again. It's about reclaiming my voice, my truth, and pouring it all out into my music."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though sadness lingered in his eyes. "Maybe one day she'll hear this song and understand. Understand that she's not just a memory, but a muse who ignited something within me, something I'll carry with me forever."

With that, Ony concluded, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. The live disconnected indicating he ended it abruptly.

As the live session ends abruptly, the room falls into a heavy silence. You, sits with a mix of emotions swirling within yourself. Ony's words echo in your mind, resonating deeply with your own conflicted feelings. You can't shake the sense of nostalgia and longing that his music and words evoke. Sasha breaks the silence, her voice soft yet determined. "Y/N, are you okay?" she asks, her concern evident.

You took a moment to collect your thoughts before responding. "I don't know, Sasha," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sasha nods understandingly, her eyes reflecting empathy. "I get it. It's hard to hear someone express their pain so openly, especially when it's intertwined with your own." Eren chimes in, his tone reflective. "Yeah, but maybe that's what he needs right now. It's better than him bottling it up and tryna smoke it all away."

Connie exhales a puff of smoke, his expression contemplative. "True, but it's also a lot to unpack. Y/N, you don't have to rush into anything. Take your time to process everything, to figure out what you need and want. What Ony did was messed up"

You nod, grateful for your friends' support. "Thanks, guys. I think…I think I need some time alone to sort through my thoughts."

With that que, Eren, Sasha and Connie left your apartment. you walk through your apartment heading to your room, the melody of Ony's song still echoing in your mind. Your emotions even more confusing than when you talked to Ony earlier. You looked at the time. It was almost 5 am. You decided to shower and head back to bed, hoping to get some rest before class.

Your mind was restless, torn between Ony's latest track and his words during the IG live, you were conflicted. On one hand, you acknowledged missing him, but on the other, infidelity was something you could never condone in a relationship. You recognized a desire to listen to his explanation, yet you feared your heart might not endure his version of the events.

The weight of Ony's words hangs heavy in the air, suffocating your mind with intense thoughts. Alone amidst the dim glow of your bedside lamp, the words "Maybe one day she'll hear this song and understand." taunt you with the possibility of reconciliation and closure. You thought to yourself "How could I ever hope to understand the depths of his pain when my own wounds still bleed with the memory of his betrayal?"

Finally entering your room, you sink onto the edge of the bed, burying your face in trembling hands, desperate to silence the cacophony of thoughts threatening to consume you.

"Take your time to process everything, to figure out what you need and want." Connie's words echo faintly in her mind. With a trembling sigh, you rise from the bed, your steps faltering as you make your way to the bathroom. The steady stream of water cascades over your trembling form, washing away the tears that stain your cheeks.

"It's 5 am. I should try to get some rest before class," you think to yourself. Climbing out of the shower, your limbs feel heavy. Wrapping yourself in a towel, the fabric offers a feeble shield against the lingering chill. You dress slowly, abandoning your usual routine for the simple comfort of bed, seeking to calm your mind. Eventually, you drift into sleep, the confusion in your heart, perhaps even greater than before.

*Slight Time Skip*

You finished up her class for the evening, your Textile Science class drained your mind. you run into Eren, Connie, Armin and Pieck in the courtyard chattin it up.

"Yo, Y/N!" Armin hollered, his grin wide as he motioned for her to come over. You gave a small nod, casually strolling over as they kept chattin'. It helped take your mind off things for a sec.

"So, y'all ready for tonight?" Armin asked, his eyes sparklin' with excitement. "Tonight?" you echoed, feeling a bit lost.

Armin leaned in closer, speakin' low like it was a secret. "The party, It's goin' down at my place. everybody's rolling through." You thought about if Ony was gonna be there since going Armin's parties was one of their go to things as a couple.

You shifted uncomfortably, tryna come up with an excuse to bail but before you could say anythin', Sasha and Mikasa slid through, bringin' a burst of energy to the scene. "Hey, y'all!" Sasha greeted; her smile infectious as she pulled you into a hug.

Mikasa gave a nod, her expression serious as she peeped Y/N with concern.

"Y/N, you gotta come through tonight," Pieck chimed in, her voice smooth and persuasive. "You never show up to the parties, and it's gonna be lit." Y/N hesitated, caught between the comfort of being alone and the fear of missing out on the squad's vibe.

Just then, Ony strolled past, casting a shadow over Y/N's mood. She felt a surge of anger bubbling up inside, memories of their messy situation flooding back.

Armin, clueless as ever, turned to Ony with a hopeful grin. "Yo, you coming tonight, Ony?"

Ony glanced at you for a sec before turning back to Armin, his face unreadable. But before he could answer, you spoke up with fire in your voice. "I ain't showing if he's gonna be there," you stated, pointing your finger at Ony with a fierce look.

The air got heavy; the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Y/N's heart raced as she waited for Ony's response. But instead of coming back at you, Ony just nodded quietly, his eyes holding a hint of regret before he dipped out.

You caught the concerned glances of your friends. You knew your emotions were a bit confusing being torn between wanting to hear him out, missing him then not wanting to be around him. Even though almost much time had passed, her emotions still felt raw.

You looked around to your friend group who was gauging your reaction to seeing Ony. Each stare, felt like a trap a push to make a decision you weren't ready for.

"I can't do this," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you took a step back, your eyes darting between your friends and a mental escape route. Sasha's hand on your arm stopped you in your tracks, her grip firm yet gentle. "You can't run from this forever, Y/N, you're gonna have to address this or find the will to move on" she said softly, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding. You stared at Sasha's face trying to gauge her facial expression and reaction "I know, Sash I know." you whispered hoarsely, your voice cracking with emotion. "But I'm not ready to face him, not yet. I don't know if I ever will be."

With that said you turned and left them there, briskly walking back to catch an uber back to your apartment.

----------------------------While you left-----------------------------------

Eren stared at Armin, scoffing with annoyance "Bro, how you gonna forget they ain't together no more? Ony straight up did her dirty with Annie."

Armin sighed and took a step back. "I know but they're both my friends and I want them both to be happy and come out more. guess I messed up by asking them out around each other. It's just that we hardly get to chill with both of them around, you know...it's tough."

Eren shook his head, his frustration evident in his furrowed brow. "I get that, Armin, but you gotta realize it's not just about them being happy. Ony really hurt Y/N, man. And seeing him around just brings back all that pain."

Armin's shoulders slumped in defeat, his expression reflecting the weight of his guilt. "I know, Eren, I know," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I just... I don't know how to fix this mess."

Sasha, who had been listening quietly, spoke up with a sympathetic tone. "Maybe there's no quick fix, Armin. Sometimes all we can do is give them space and time to heal, you know?"

Connie nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "Yeah, sometimes the best thing we can do is just be there for them when they're ready to talk or when they need us."

Armin sighed; his gaze heavy with regret. "You're right," he admitted, a sense of resignation settling over him. "I just hope they both find their way through this, somehow."

Previous Next

[p0orbaby]

mary earps jealous fic please

reader jealous and mary reassures her or mary jealous and opposite

Watch Your Step

warnings: alcohol consumption, just zero lack of girl code, oblivious mary?

a/n: I wrote this in like an hour so don’t judge me if it’s shockingly bad

word count: 981

-

You’re not insecure.

You’re not.

You swear.

But as you watched a leggy blonde make Mary laugh, a twinge of jealousy pricked at you.

You tried to brush off your unease, but being wedged between Mary and the wall you couldn't help but overhear snippets of their conversation.

"Mary, you've got the best sense of humor," the girl exclaimed, her laughter loud over the music of the bar.

You bite your lip, feigning interest in your own surroundings. How the leather of the booth stuck to your skin. The bitter taste of your martini. Deep down, you knew Mary was just being friendly, but the irrational pangs of jealousy lingered.

Mary glanced over her shoulder to find you tracing your finger around the rim of your class. "Hey, love, come join in. We were just talking about the game last night”

Suppressing the knot in your stomach, you turned alight in your seat with a smile. "Yeah, it was intense”

The person, still oblivious to your internal struggle, continued their peacocking with Mary. "You should've seen her saves, absolutely incredible”

You nodded, forcing yourself to engage. "Hard not to miss them when you're part of her back line”

The blonde shoots you a quick glance, seemingly registering your presence for the first time. “Oh, you play too?”

“Yeah, I’m on the team,” you replied, your tone dry and blunt and not unnoticed by your girlfriend.

Mary caught the tension in your response and subtly shifted the conversation, attempting to include you more. “We’ve got quite the dynamic in defense. Keeps the goals at bay, right, love?”

You nodded, managing a tight smile, your eyes briefly locking with Mary’s in silent communication. The blonde, sensing the shift, excused herself to grab another round of drinks, leaving you alone with Mary in the dimly lit booth.

Mary turned towards you, concern etched on her face. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, all good. I just didn’t realise you were sharing your brilliant sense of humor with the whole bar”

“Hey, what’s really going on?”

Mary is far from stupid. And you’d been together far too long to think she’d get caught up in your lie.

You took a deep breath, appreciating Mary’s genuine concern. “Yeah, just… I guess I got all up in my own head for a moment. It’s silly, really”

She eyed you, unconvinced by your answer.

“You do realise she’s flirting with you, right?” You say.

Mary’s expression shifted, a combination of realisation and concern etched across her features. “You think so?”

Edit, Mary was far from stupid, sober.

“I’m going to pretend you’ve not noticed the way she looks at you because it’s dark in here, okay?”

If you had it your way, you’d get up and leave. But you knew better than to try and outmuscle your way past her.

“Baby”

“Don’t, Mary” you say, your throat tight with emotion as you train your gaze back onto your drink.

“Look at me, love” she instructs, a hand coming up to your chin to turn your head to her. Though your eyes don’t meet hers at first. “Y/N”

Your name rolled off her tongue, a soft plea in the dimly lit booth.

You give in and look at her when her thumb strokes the spot just above your cheek.

“I don’t like that people are fighting for your attention,” you admit. “They talk and talk like I’m not even here. It pisses me off”

Mary’s eyebrows raise, and she chuckles softly. “Well, sorry for being so damn popular. Didn’t realize it bothered you that much.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms petulantly. “It does bother me. A lot actually”

“Okay, okay,” Mary concedes, though her smirk tells you she’s still very much amused by the situation. “So, what’s the plan? Stay here and be grumpy, or should we find a place where it’s just us?”

“I don’t know” you sulk.

“No? Shall I decide?”

All you give her is a shrug.

She hums lightly as your lack of cooperation, her eyes sliding from you to her drink, wrapping her hand around the glass, and finishes the rest of it off in one large gulp.

“Home it is then” she says, sliding out of the booth and holding her hand out for you to take.

Though as soon as you’re upright, she doesn’t lead the way to the exit like you expect her to. She pulls your body flush against hers, curls a hand around the back of your neck and guides your lips to hers.

It was a dirty little thing. All tongue and teeth and the lingering taste of her gin martini. It caught you off guard enough that your hands stayed suspended by your sides, whilst hers grabbed at your waist and angled your head to give herself better access to you.

Only when she finally feels you melt against her is when she pulls away, wiping her mouth dry as she does.

“I’m yours. You’ll do well to remember that”

If she didn’t grab a hold of your hand again you’re sure you would’ve collapsed. Her words causing your legs to turn to jelly and your head to spin with something other than alcohol.

Mary doesn’t mess around pulling you towards the exit after that. Either she’d had enough of your tantrum, or she has plans for the two of you at home. Her reasoning didn’t matter in the end, when a figure stood out amongst the blurry bodies you were being dragged past.

It was quite poetic really. How time slowed as you locked eyes with her. The way her face was lit with the blue and red lights from the decorative neon signs littered around the bar, spotlighting the disdain she had for you.

Her scowl was returned with your triumphant smirk.

You weren’t insecure.

You just didn't like people coming after what was yours.

[prettyprincessduh]

Josh teaches reader to make out P2

Omg I didn't expect part ine to get so much love! Here's part 2! Also, I do requests if anyone wants any ideas turned into a story or a oneshot, let me know!

PART 2

Color codes ✨️

Reader

Josh

Beth

Soon enough, night had arrived. Everyone was off doing their own thing. Josh was passed out on the counter, and you were upstairs with almost everyone else. Jess was planning some elaborate prank on Hannah.

You wanted no part in it, so you went off to find Josh.

As you made your way down the stairs, you saw Beth coming inside. You decided to walk over to her, curious about what she was up to.

"Hey, Beth," you said casually, watching her hang her coat up on one of the various hooks around the place.

"Oh, hey!" Beth answered, turning to face you with a smile.

You were about to respond when you heard snoring. You turned to see Josh in the kitchen, passed out while sitting up and leaning against the counter. You couldn’t help but smile slightly as Beth walked over to him.

"Jeez, Josh. Once again, brother, you've outdone us all," Beth said, hooking her arm through one of his to try moving him. She was struggling, so you quickly went to help.

You held Josh the same way Beth did. You weren’t sure why she chose to make him walk backward, considering he was taller and heavier than both of you, but hey, it seemed to work.

You both stumbled slightly as you maneuvered him to the couch in the living room. You let Beth direct the way since you couldn’t see much.

"Okay, watch the—" Beth started, but you had already tripped, causing all three of you to collapse onto the couch. Josh ended up sprawled on top of you, somehow still asleep.

He groaned and lazily shifted, making himself comfortable while unintentionally pinning you down.

Beth laughed, stepping back. "Jeez, you good down there?"

"I'm good, don't worry," you replied, laughing it off, though your voice cracked slightly.

Beth raised a brow but shrugged. "If you’re sure... I’m going to see what the others are up to." And with that, she left.

You stayed under Josh for about five minutes before the discomfort became too much. You couldn’t breathe properly, and his snoring in your ear wasn’t exactly relaxing. You squirmed, trying to wake him.

"Mm... Josh?" you mumbled, poking his face with your only free hand, the other pinned at your side.

He didn’t respond, only making a strange groan before burying his face deeper into your neck and shoulder.

It tickled slightly, making you smile and huff a small laugh. "Josh, seriously. I’d like to be able to feel my legs now," you said, louder this time.

Josh snored even louder, almost as if on purpose. You kept poking his cheek repeatedly until he finally stirred, lifting his head slightly. His goofy smile and half-lidded eyes told you he was still out of it.

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen your eyes so small," you said casually.

Josh’s eyes widened slightly, and he smirked. "Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you under me like this," he shot back smugly.

"Josh!" you exclaimed, your voice a soft gasp.

He gave you a mischievous look—those infamous "fuck me" eyes. You could definitely see it now.

He shifted, propping himself up so you could finally breathe. As his fingers slowly traced up and down your arm absentmindedly, you became hyper-aware of every sensation. His breath lightly grazing your skin, the warmth of his hands swallowing your smaller ones, even the veins on his hands—you noticed everything.

Your mind began to wander to thoughts you didn’t want to admit, and you swallowed dryly. Meeting his gaze, you saw his lazy smile.

Oh my god, what if he’s realizing I’m ugly? you thought, self-conscious. You quickly looked away, focusing on the fireplace.

Josh followed your gaze and chuckled. "Really? The fire’s more interesting than the guy on top of you?" he teased, drawing your eyes back to him.

You gave him a shy smile, struggling to hold eye contact.

Josh leaned closer, seemingly ready to pick up where you’d left off earlier.

"Uh, what time is it?" you asked abruptly, trying to change the subject.

Josh paused, clearly thrown off, then smirked. "Hm... I think it’s time I gave you that lesson I promised you earlier," he said, his tone teasing.

You smiled awkwardly, your body tensing slightly. Josh noticed and shifted, lying on his side beside you.

"What’s up, princess?" he asked softly, watching you expectantly.

You shrugged, unsure of how to express yourself. Communication wasn’t your strong suit.

"Use your words," he prompted gently, his gaze steady.

You sighed, your eyes falling back on the fire. "It’s just... what if I’m bad at it? And then... you hate it," you mumbled, embarrassed.

Josh chuckled, not to mock you but in disbelief. He guided your face to look at him.

"Listen, princess. That’s the whole point of me teaching you. You’re in good hands," he reassured you, stroking your cheek gently.

You smiled slightly, leaning into his warmth. As you both adjusted on the couch, bodies pressed tightly together, you couldn’t help but feel nervous.

"Well... I guess we do have a whole week to learn," you murmured, earning a small chuckle from Josh.

Josh pulled you closer, his hand tangling in your hair. This time, when he leaned in, you didn’t pull away. His lips met yours softly at first, but the kiss quickly deepened.

"You're doing good," he murmured against your lips. "But open your mouth a little more."

Before you could respond, Josh took the opportunity to kiss you again, catching you off guard. It was messy and uncoordinated, but it felt good. His hands slid to your waist, his knee pressing between your thighs.

The sudden pressure against your sensitive spot made you gasp and make some weird noise you never heard yourself make before.

Josh immediately pulled back, alarmed. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, smiling slightly. "No, it just... caught me off guard. I didn’t expect to be that loud. Sorry."

Josh smirked, his tongue darting out to lick your lip gloss off his lips. "Don’t be sorry. That was hot. I didn’t know you sounded like such a whiny pornstar."

You laughed, your cheeks burning as he pressed his knee against you again.

"We need to do more makeout lessons," you said smugly.

Josh nodded but gave you a look that hinted your next "lesson" might involve more than just making out.

~~~~~~~

Yall, I need more ideas. Should I make the stories shorter? Like porn without plot? Or do you guys enjoy the plot?

[soft-girl-musings]

Cry (MK Spring Bingo #1)

Marc Spector x Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: panic/anxiety attacks, possibly inaccurate description of an emergency room visit (i don't remember the exact process i borrowed from my own experience bc i was sick… in the ER…), no use of y/n

wc: 1,356

fic summary: Three times Marc told you it was okay to cry, and one time you returned the favor.

A/N: Finally got around to writing something for someone besides jake lockley, bless. once again this is self-indulgent, but if anything hits home for you i'm glad <3 (based on Adam Melchor's "Cry" , which is the most marc-coded piece of music i've ever heard. in this essay i will)

_____________________

The first time came out of nowhere.

Nothing was wrong per se; no major injury or crisis had come up. All you knew was that you were frozen in the corner of your room, hot tears streaming down your face as your mind raced between a million different things.

“Sweetheart, have you seen my–” Marc’s request stopped the moment he saw you frozen in the darkened room, gripping the sleeves of your shirt as you bit your lip so hard you risked giving yourself another reason to cry.

“I just need a minute,” your voice came out trembling and heavy, as if too many syllables would cause the tears to fall with greater force. Not that you knew how to stop them, or how they even started.

Quick strides across the room brought Marc to your side. His warm hands wrapped around yours, cold and losing color from digging into your arms. 

Words were never his strong suit; Marc’s a man of few, usually letting his presence and actions suffice. So when faced with consoling you against some invisible threat, he could almost hear the sound of his own heart breaking in tandem with your staggered breath.

So he stood there. Until your fingers relaxed and entwined with his, he stood there until he could guide you to the floor. Arms wrapped around your shoulders, he cradled you as you continued to cry.

“This is so stupid,” you groaned as you wiped your face with your sleeve. “So fucking… ugh.”

“Hey,” he shushed you. “Not stupid. You’re feeling what you’re feeling.”

“But I don’t know why,” you choked out. It was hard enough being so distraught; not having a valid reason for it made everything hurt more.

“You don't have to justify it. Don't have to do anything but just… be here.” A hand to your temple eased your head against his chest. “I'm here, as long as you need me to be.”

This was all the permission you needed to let another rush of tears spill down your cheeks, soaking his shirt. He didn't mind.

___________________

The second time was in the emergency room.

You'd never struggled to catch your breath like this before; a common cold turned south and triggered long-dormant childhood asthma, making your lungs betray the rest of your body. Marc drove you to the ER when your hollow coughing didn't let up for the third day in a row. Head spinning and chest aflame, you were rushed to the back as soon as Marc told them you couldn't breathe.

“You've got to breathe steady, honey.”

“I'm trying,” you muttered around the medicated tube in your mouth. It had to be almost 3 in the morning; your body ached like crazy and you didn't catch a word of what the nurse told you to do with your medication. All you knew was that you were cold, exhausted, and grateful to have Marc there to time your breathing.

But even with his hand holding yours, you still felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Every inhalation brought medicine to your airways, but the ragged sensation resonated through your chest and made your body ache more.

“I'm so tired,” you finally said around the device. With that, your tears fell faster than you could swipe at them. Your frown pushed the device from your mouth, but you didn't care.

Marc sprang up, catching the equipment when your grip faltered. He said nothing; instead, he climbed onto the bed with you, leaning your back against his chest and taking your hand in his once more, bringing the medication back to your lips. You let him bear your weight, immediate relief washing over you as he took over keeping the device steady with one hand and gently dabbing a tissue at your cheek with the other. 

“Nothing wrong with a few tears, honey. Means you’re alive.”

When you finally went home, the fire in your lungs extinguished, he held you again until you fell asleep.

_____________________

“.....The movie just started.”

(The third time was on the living room couch.)

You had finally talked Marc into watching La La Land with you (with the promise of his getting to choose the next movie night film, of course). You were barely 30 seconds into the opening number when you'd started crying, eyes glued to the screen as dozens of up-and-comers danced and sang about their dreams to make it in the industry.

“They haven't said anything.”

“They're saying everything.”

“He's dancing on a car.”

“Because he's excited!”

“Why did they stop traffic to dance?”

You didn't hear the rest of his quips, too engrossed in the scene. The colors, the music, and the highly impractical interstate  choreography had a way of getting to you ever since you first saw this movie. Meanwhile, Marc sat with his arms crossed and eyebrows knit together as he tried to follow along.

When you noticed his body language, you reached for the remote and paused the movie. “Do you… want to watch something else?”

Marc's face fell when he realized this new batch of tears wasn’t because of the movie, but because of him. The thought of making your cry hit like a punch to the gut.

He took the remote from you, moving closer to your side. “Nice try, but you're not getting out of it that easily. I need your commentary if I'm gonna keep up.” He hit play and choked down every criticism as he saw your face light up, tears of joy brimming during the remaining 2 hours of the film.

The next morning, while making breakfast, you could have sworn you heard Marc humming Another Day of Sun under his breath.

_____________________

As you'd grown closer, you began to know Marc as your rock, your steady landing place when you had thoughts and feelings too big to deal with on your own. He never had to say much to be there for you. He kept you tethered and together, happy to be of service no matter how ugly your hardships felt. 

It was only a matter of time before you saw a crack in his foundation.

You got home late one night, a thunderstorm hot on your heels. You had shrugged off your coat and shoes, calling out to Marc to see if he was home. No response.

You checked each room diligently, until you found him sitting on the corner of the bed.

“Marc?” You asked softly, walking toward him. You knelt in front of him, and the sight of his face twisted into an unfamiliar expression, a steady stream of tears spilling from his reddened eyes, was more than you could bear.

The first time came out of nowhere.

“Can you give me your hands, Marc?” He complied, his breath short and his eyes fixed on the storm pelting the window with sheet after sheet of rain. His vision darted between drops of water and streaks of lightning. The room shook with the echoes of thunder as the worst of the storm hit.

“Hey,” you urged him. “Just be here. With me.” Your thumb traced his wrist as you tried to stay calm.  “Can you breathe with me, Marc?” You sat up on your knees. He nodded, slowly but surely matching the pace of your breath. 

You didn't know what was on his mind, only that it was racing. You couldn't tell what had him so worked up, only that his breath escaped him even as you counted to ten again, and again, unrelenting in your focus on him. You had no idea what made your rock, your anchor, cry like this.

Maybe he'd tell you later; maybe it'd remain a mystery. None of that mattered in the moment. All that mattered was the rhythm of your breath as the rain let up; the way his tears drenched your sleeves when you dabbed at his flushed cheeks; the steady thrum of his heart as his body relaxed beside yours. All that mattered was how, with your chest pressed to his back as you lay on top of the bedspread, he let you hold him for a change.

_____________________

event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added/taken off this wee tag list)