#maybe not the same exact thing but it is some ridiculous shit. it’s one of those ‘debates’ i’m just sick of seeing

[ixzotica]

NOT-SO-SMALL RANT ABOUT THE SHIFTING COMMUNITY this has been pissing me off for some time now so i'm going to yap about it and if you don't agree w/ me, feel free to block me! also please note that this is just a general rant and isn't targeted at any specific individual(s) because i've been seeing this on here and in other shifting communities.

this is going to be the laaaast time i talk about this because i don't want to be know for complaining all the time anymore LMAOAO! anyways allow me to start by saying this. if what someone's doing in regards to shifting isn't harmful, bigoted, racially insensitive, or truly problematic and it doesn't affect you, stop being an annoying piece of shit and judging people for what they do with the realities they shift to ESPECIALLY if you can't handle/don't like it being done to you. you do not get to judge and dictate what people do in their lives, who they shift for, why they shift, what wording they use in terms of shifting, nothing.

YOU DON'T GET A SAY IN THE HARMLESS SHIT SOMEONE ELSE DOES IN THEIR LIFE JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T LIKE IT.

and yes i get that there's certain stuff that's just based off of morality and culture and history, i'm not talking about that because i too am personally very sensitive about that stuff for reasons of my own. i'm talking about some of you who judge shifters for wanting to shift to have consensual sex with legal adults as a legal adult in that reality. or some of you who judge people for having multiple partners because you just can't seem to wrap your head around it or simply choose to be ignorant. or some of you who even judge people because they script that they get attention and that they're smart and pretty. because think about it.

what does any of that have to do with you?

you act like YOU'RE gonna be the one living their life when you're not. many of you judge people for shit and you don't even know how they perceive it yet you're too close-minded to even think outside of your own head and consider their thought process. many of you seem to forget that you are shaming someone's entire lives for miniscule shit. like these are their LIVES. and not to mention, many of you claim that "don't mean to judge" but just because you say that you're not judging doesn't mean that you're not being judgmental. the shit you say can still be offensive or demotivating or just straight up bigoted/prejudice to the people you're talking about when you could've just kept it to yourself.

imagine if a straight person came online and said that they didn't like when queer people spoke about their queer experiences/partners/whatever because it made them uncomfortable and they couldn't relate but "they aren't judging, they just don't agree with it?" you see how fucked that sounds? well you probably don't because you're doing the exact same thing just in a different community about different shit, all of which ain't got nothing to do with you.

how would you feel if someone on this app started bashing you for who you shift for and saying that shifting for this person was so stupid and going into detail about how fucking lame you are? you wouldn't like it right? because that's your partner and you love them, right? so why the fuck do you think you can do that to other people? seriously, it's starting to get very fucking ridiculous.

please just think before you start judging people for harmless shit because they might turn around and do the same shit to you or call you out for not minding your own business and now you're all offended and getting flamed for being an asshole. and if you truly just need to talk shit about someone's life, maybe get some friends who share your values and talk privately instead of putting everything on the internet. now go shift! <3

SINCERELY, A Serial Yapper with A Lot To Say

[meanbossart]

do you have any thoughts on cazador as a character? personally i really loved the parallels between him and astarion & the way that the master/spawn relationship is used as an allegory for cyclical abuse. the scene with cazador’s master’s skull where you find out that he was once victimized in the exact same way that he later victimized astarion was really a lightbulb moment for me re: what vampirism represents in this game.

BOY DO I, i don't think much of it hasn't already been said, though. He's a tragic character in his own right of course, not that that takes away from the awful man he is.

Me and my boyfriend make fun of him a lot, we call him "the best BG3 character" as a little inside joke between us and come up with ridiculous scenarios of things that might have occurred throughout those 200 miserable years the spawn had under his command lol. Maybe he had a month where he was really specific about the shoes everyone wore, maybe once every other decade he had a weird week where he tried to be "nice" only to become frustrated when his efforts weren't immediately met in kind by the rightfully-terrified spawn, maybe between all the torture and horrific-ness he just did some plain weird shit like making someone crouch by in his fainting couch and wait by open-handed for grapes that he dramatically chewed on and then spat right out since he can't actually eat them lmao

And that's hysterical but I think we also started doing that because when you meet Cazador, when you first hear his voice and see his demeanor in person your immediate reaction is probably somewhere along the lines of "THIS is the clown you were so scared of, Astarion?"

And the answer is, of course, yes. This embarrassing little man stuck in a cage of his making instills fear beyond comprehension in Astarion and all his siblings. This man who undoubtedly showed all these spawn, inadvertently, the strangest, most arguably "human" aspects of himself at some point or another during these two centuries they had together is also an absolute monster. And i really like that! I think its far more effective and fitting for his story than if he was, lets say, a Ketheric type.

(this got very long so, more under the cut)

Look at Ascended Astarion in the epilogue now, for example. Everyone agrees that he's an absolute fucking dork - and I think we all also agree that he will go on to destroy the lives of many people beyond repair, especially his own, until the day he is killed.

In the topic of vampirism as an allegory for abuse, I both agree and also don't, at least not exactly - i just think it's deeper than that. I've spoken about this in another post but i find it incredibly refreshing how, to me, it seems like Baldur's Gate 3 has no interest in painting vampirism as sexy or fun past a surface level. It's a curse that nobody asks for unless put in a situation where they feel as if they have no other way out, and it shapes and haunts you for the rest of your undead existence.

Even if you enjoy its benefits at first, that has a time limit. You will see your family and loved ones die, you will see culture evolve while you stay perpetually the same. You will experience so much hurt and pain because the only thing that makes life truly sweet is knowing that it is finite, and eventually it will wear down all of your humanity. And since you can't die unless you are scorched by the sun, staked, or dismembered, you must live with the knowledge that you will never have a peaceful death - and since you won't have a peaceful death, you better not die - and if you don't want to die, you better not be weak - and if you don't want to be weak, you must seek out power at all cost and slash things like love and friendship out of your life.

And what is funny, is that in his attempt to be more like a mortal - to eat, drink, walk the sun, such incredibly simple desires - Cazador (and Astarion, if he ascends) is accidentally only drawing further away from the person he supposedly once was, because that fear of weakness has already utterly corrupted his soul.

That's quite a grim way to look at it, of course. But I genuinely think that it is the natural conclusion of something like immortality.

That's why I quite like that, even after Astarion has found happiness, even after he finds his peace, he still doesn't exactly embrace being a vampire - because It's not something he should be expected to embrace. I think it's a very unique take on the trope.

I also want to leave here this message written by his character writer, which really got me thinking about him on a deeper level since i saw it months ago. It is specifically about the sexual aspect, but I think it branches beyond it too, when you think about it.

[max1461]

Honestly as much as I'm like "I appreciate media that is unabashedly horny", which is true, anime fan service is often a bit too much for me just on the level of like, my own taste. Uh it just comes across as crass and tacky a lot, it makes the work more difficult for me to enjoy.

I also think the argument that it's like, often problematic objectification is not wrong. Maybe that's obvious. But like, well, there's something subtle (or sometimes, not so subtle) which makes the difference for me between "media that feels horny in a 'fair' way" and "media which feels horny in 'gross' or 'gawking' way". Those are both poor terms but like, sexualized in a way that feels...

Well there's no easy line for me to draw here. There's nothing specifically that you can't do in work, IMO, there's basically no line that I'm like "categorically you can't cross that". But I do think you should be at least somewhat aware of the ideas your work is conveying about sexuality and society and so on.

Uh maybe what I mean is just "have tact". Like I don't mean "never try to titillate the audience", and I don't mean "all your titillation must sufficiently be subversive of social norms to be allowed", or whatever. Lots of people who say the thing I said in the last paragraph mean one of those things. But I don't. I just mean don't be a dumbass, maybe? I mean something. I mean be aware that like, while I don't a priori object to a work in which every female character's boobs flap around simply because the creator finds it hot, there are certain works where you really should not do that. You see? Things have to be... contextually appropriate, and I mean both the work's internal context but also its context in society as a whole. Right, because of social conditions, and you know, the way that women are treated, and shit, well you're all smart you all know, there's certain contexts in which it is not appropriate to have all the female characters have their boobs flop around. And many more contexts where it's sort of fine it just makes the work a bit worse.

Idk.

Cause like. There's some anime, actually a lot of it, that's just ridiculously straight-guy-horny and I'm just like "you know what, this is fine actually, this is great. I have zero problem with this." And then there's a lot that has all the same shit in it and I'm like "oof, that feels really inappropriate. That feels like a shitty portrayal, an insensitive thing to include, that's bad."

And the different is not the nature of the panty shots themselves it's everything around the panty shots, right. Does that make sense?

I feel like the is kind of the sensible synthesis of recent (and IMO correct) trends around like, idk, pro-horniness? Like sex positivity already means a specific thing but like, pro-horniness, you know, pro-desire (many people on this website are talking about such thing, and again I think correctly), with the IMO also true and important fact that like, objectification of women and so on is a real thing in media and it is actually problematic (I mean "problematic" in the naive sense, not as SJ jargon). Like maybe it's not problematic in the exact set of ways 2014 pop-feminism or anti-porn radfems or whatever say it is, but it's like. There are contexts in which I think you really probably should not be zooming in on the boobs and so on. Like, you feel me?

[mustainegf]

hi! I was wondering if you could do an angst/smut with mop Era james? Like reader and james are friends and she gets upset with him being with groupies and she finally tells him how she feels one night during an argument and then it leads to them having rough sex?

First of all, I love the non-anonymous confidence

And when I tell you I screamed when I read this, how do you come up with something this good…

I was in a particularly bad mood today.

James was off being an asshole rockstar, yet I still came to his shows, showed him all the support in the world. It was getting on my nerves.

Why did I do it? Maybe because I was stubborn, told myself it would be fine. Or maybe it was the feeling I got deep in my stomach whenever he looked at me. It was all stupid, I mean, my best friend? Really?

And that's what happened when I arrived in his dressing room tonight. I walked in, and there he was, kissing some sleazy chick on the cheek and shooing her away and out the same door I had just walked through. I hated groupies.

James watched me with a dumb smile for a second, but mine was stone cold serious. "You're pathetic, James," I shook my head as I stared back.

He shrugged and kept smiling like he wasn't the one who had been kissing some random girl.

"What do you want me to do about it huh? I ain't gonna turn down sex," he grinned. How did he not fully understand that these ladies were crazy?

"This is what I mean, James," I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms.

"They are groupies, they don't care, their only mission is to get into your pants." He shook his head like this was some sort of game. "Whatever, I'm tired of you sleeping around," I snapped, a bit louder than before.

"Oh please, get the fuck over it. I don't see why it's your problem anyways." James' tone had switched to sharp and lethal, now stabbing back at me.

He stood up, looking more frustrated now. "It's my problem because you make it my problem! All I ever hear about is these sluts!" I retorted.

I knew it sounded ridiculous. It was him I didn't want in the hands of another woman, but the more he went around doing that, the more jealousy started to bubble up inside me. I hated it.

"Well, grow the fuck up, then," he snarled, throwing his hands in the air. "God, do you know how many women try to come after me?" He stopped pacing and turned to me. "And you expect me to just say no?"

His voice cracked and I could tell he was angry.

Angry at me. "All you ever do is fuck around with these whores! It's gross." I shot him a disgusted look.

"Why the fuck are you so pissed about this?" James shook his head, he had daggers for eyes and they were carving into my skull.

"That sex doesn't mean shit to me, it's meaningless. So I don't get why you have your panties in a knot," he added.

Without thinking about my words, they had already been thrown back at him. "Because I like you, James!" I shouted. And I did. "And all you do it fuck these groupies and toss me to the side!"

The veins on his neck popped out, and his jaw clenched. James was turning red. This was a mistake. "You what?" He asked, now taken aback.

I didn't respond, I was too embarrassed of what I had admitted. I'd sworn to never tell him.

"And you're jealous of the groupies?" He smirked down at me. Well shit, I hadn't made things much better.

My lack of an answer prompted his next movements. James reached past me, swiftly shutting the door and locking it.

"Ja-" before I could finish, he motioned to the opposite side of the room. "On the couch. Now." He demanded.

I was shocked, and slightly turned on by the tone of his voice. "What'd I tell you?" He said darkly.

I complied, stepping over to the couch. I looked back at him, waiting for his response. I had followed close behind, watching me like a hawk.

"Don't act stupid. Turn around," he smirked.

That word alone should have put me on edge, but it did the exact opposite. For whatever reason, it did something to me. I slowly turned around, planting my hands against the back of the couch.

"Jealous of the groupies huh? You think I give them good sex? No. I'll show you what I don't give 'em." His dominant words made the warmth between my legs flutter.

"Keep your hands there." He ordered. As if I would have moved them anyway. His heavy footsteps approached. My heart skipped a beat.

I knew he was going to touch me. I wanted him to.

The way he was standing there, his chest heaving, told me how wound up he was. A shudder ran through me. Before I knew it, his hand cupped my ass and he squeezed.

God, his large hand was so perfect. It felt amazing.

I let out a small moan. "So sensitive, huh?" He teased. "You think I didn't want to do this? Of course you've gotta tease me with these tight fuckin jeans all the time.."

He chuckled lowly, both his hands grazing down my waist. "You know I pretend to fuck you whenever I'm with a groupie?" He ran a hand down my back.

I shivered at his touch. "You think I haven't wanted to make you mine since I met you?" His words were only arousing me more.

James reached around my hips, unbuttoning my jeans.

He hastily pulled them down, exposing my white laced panties.

I wiggled when he got them off, kicking my feet free from them. "Fuck, you're sexy," James growled.

He wasted no time, pulling my shirt up my torso. I let him have his way. I couldn't help it. If he wanted to undress me, I wouldn't fight it. I needed this.

Hell, I needed everything from him.

He stood back up, taking in every inch of me. The look in his eyes... he wanted to devour me. He wasn't done yet either. Next came my bra. He easily peeled it off, letting it drop to the floor, along with my jeans.

I was completely bare, except for my sneakers and socks, which I was already kicking off. I Looked back at him as he took in the sight of my body. He had this look on his face. Like he was starving.

Before I knew it, his hand came down on my ass, leaving a red sting. "All for me," James snarled.

"James.." I let out a breathy moan.

I felt so exposed, James was still completely dressed.

I Loved that he was in control. At least for now.

When I heard the sound of the zipper, my breath caught. "I'll make you regret ever yelling at me. I bet you'd like that huh? Good you're such a dirty girl..." he scoffed.

But his words sent shivers down my spine. Just the thought of James doing all these things to me was enough to send me spiraling.

"Put that mouth to use, say something. Maybe then I'll think about giving you what you want," he panted. Just as he spoke I could feel him slap his cock over my ass. My legs were already a trembling mess.

"You want it, don't you? Admit it," he bit out. "Yes. Yes please," I blurted. "That's it, say it again." He demanded. "Please, I want it."

"Louder, who do you want?" he growled. "I want you!"

James laughed softly. "I bet you say that shit when you touch yourself yeah?" He teased my opening with his tip, running it through my soaking folds, making me flinch.

"You think I talk to those other sluts like this?" He pushed just the tip into me, forcing a throaty moan out of me. "No... because you're mine, my slut."

He growled. He pushed into me again, this time going deeper. I couldn't contain my cry anymore. I threw my head back, letting my emotions run wild.

I needed this. Needed him. I needed James to fill me.

"Deeper James.." I begged him softly, my face smushed into the back of the couch.

"Like this?" he murmured, as he started to thrust. "Yes! Please." I cried.

"God, you're tight," he groaned, bottoming out.

I whimpered. This was so much better than my fingers. So much better than anything. I never would have imagined I would enjoy being taken like this. "Holy fuck, you feel good," he moaned.

His fingers found my clit, and he began rubbing in small circles. "Oh, God yes!" He pounded mercilessly. It hurt, but it was a good kind of pain.

His Rough and calloused hands squeezed hard on the flesh of my ass. "That's it baby.."

he cooed. His voice alone sent shivers down my spine. "Come on, I can feel you getting wetter," he rasped.

"Let me hear those pretty noises. How about that, hmm?" he taunted me. "Scream for me. Make everyone in this building know you're mine."

I could hardly form a thought, all I could focus on was the feeling of his veiny length stretching me to my limit. "James!" I screamed. It almost sounded pornographic.

In that moment, I became someone else. Someone reckless, daring, and desperate for more. The only thing that mattered was how he made me feel. It was that simple.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he grunted. "Yeah, scream for me. Let go of all those pent-up feelings. Come on, show me what a good little slut you are." I let out a low guttural moan.

"Harder James... I'm gonna cum!" I pleaded, my mind fraying.

"That's it, cum for me, let go." He groaned. "Cum for me." I was at his mercy, he had me at his will.

"James!" I screamed, my entire body tensing.

I came undone at the seams. My walls pulsated around him, milking his shaft. "Fuck!" he yelled.

"Yes!" He shouted as he buried himself deep inside of me. I collapsed at the feeling, but James caught me, holding me to his bare chest as he finished.

I could feel him painting my insides, claiming every inch of me as his own. "James.." I whispered, laying my head back on his shoulder. I buried my hand in his long blonde hair, a few strands sticking to the sweat on his face.

We sat there breathing heavily, I could feel his seed drip out of me as he pulled out. "You know I love you right?" James smiled awkwardly at me.

"I do now," I said in a breathy tone. "And I love you too." A Dark pink crept to his cheeks as he looked at me.

"You promise not to sleep with groupies anymore?" I chuckled softly.

"Why would I fuck a groupie when I have you baby?"

[harrywavycurly]

Sarah I could use some fluff please😕

Hiii babes!! I hope you enjoy these super fluffy conversations with Eddie💖

*when I say these are super fluffy I’m not exaggerating these are disgustingly sweet*

“You think we’re good for each other?” “No.” “Eddie! What the hell?” “Sorry I meant no we aren’t good for each other…we are great for each other.” “Oh really? What makes you think that?” “Because…the kinda love we have can’t be anything but great.” “Yeah?” “Yeah…this is that once in a lifetime type shit…or at least it is for me.” “You’re going to love me the rest of your life?” “Oh yeah…you’re stuck with me baby.” “I like the sound of that.”

“You make me nervous.” “Eddie be serious I’m trying to see where your mind is at with…us.” “I’m being fucking serious you…you make me nervous because what…what if there’s a day you wake up and realize you can do so much better than me? I don’t know what I’d do if you…if you decided to leave..I mean I wouldn’t blame you but I just…I really fucking love you and it’s terrifying.” “You love me?” “Yeah…yeah I do..I love you sweetheart.” “I love you too…and there’s never going to be a day when I wake up and want to be anywhere else but wrapped up in your arms because that’s where I feel the most at home.” “You’re it for me you know that right?” “Glad we are on the same page.” “God listen to us we sound like a hallmark commercial for one of their cheesy Christmas romance movies…” “oh you know you love their Christmas movies.”

“If I dropped to one knee right now and asked you to marry me what would you say?” “What took you so fucking long.” “Wait…what? Really? You wouldn’t run away screaming at the idea of me being your husband?” “No you dummy I’ve thought about you being my husband for a while now…I mean we live together and have a cat so it’s like the only thing missing is a ring on my finger and my last name being Munson.” “Oh…uhm well then in that case….will you marry me?” “Holy shit you’re actually doing it? Right now? I didn’t mean to pressure you I’m so-” “baby you’re making me really fucking nervous can you just say yes already?” “Oh shit I’m sorry! Yes yes of course I’ll marry you Eddie.”

“You know what I think?” “Honestly baby there’s no telling…” “don’t be mean Eddie.” “Sorry Princess…what’s on your mind?” “I think that you and I were meant to meet at the exact time that we did all those years ago because the universe knew exactly what I needed and who I needed to be loved by…so they sent you to me.” “I think you’re right baby…I had no intention of going to family video that night but all of a sudden I was pulling into the parking lot and not even five minutes later I run into you in the horror section.” “And look at us now…sitting in a bubble bath in our house on a Friday night because we are an old boring married couple.” “Boring? We aren’t boring…but yeah…crazy how time flies when you’re having fun with the one you’re meant to be having it with.”

“How much do you love me?” “I hate these conversations sweetheart they always end with me doing some ridiculous favor…” “so you don’t love me then?” “Now that’s…not what I said…you know I love you.” “How much?” “So much there’s not even a word for it.” “Oh that���s a lot…does that mean you love me so much that you’d come help me plant some new flowers in the garden?” “I knew this was going to end me with me on my knees somehow.” “Maybe I’ll return the favor later tonight if you don’t moan and groan while planting my petunias.” “I make no promises…you know how much I love moaning and groaning.”

“Can I tell you something?” “Is it going to make me cry? You know how I feel about crying Eddie…” “I don’t know? It might?” “Lay it on me.” “I think we’ve been in love before.” “Oh yeah? Like…in another life?” “I think we’ve always been in love and…will always be in love…in every life we live…I sound crazy don’t I?” “No Eddie you don’t sound crazy…I know what you’re talking about…what we have just feels too…special to only be for such a small amount of time.” “Exactly….I love you.” “I love you too…in this life and all the ones that come next.”

[rincewinds-hat]

here's the thing

When i was a kid, i ADORED watching LDShadowlady (still love her, although i generally don't watch mcyts anymore), and she's like an idol to me.

When i grew up a little, i was watching the dsmp (yes, hate me all you want for my likes idc, i wasn't one of the crazys) and I really liked Technoblade, Tommyinnit and Ranboo. I still follow them, though as i said, don't watch as frequently.

Yesterday, my mom and aunt were discussing how ridiculous it is to watch people play video games, saying 'just play the games yourself' or 'where's the satisfaction? It's someone else's accomplishment' and other things like that

And then i realised - it was never about the game. It was about the story.

Shadowcraft 1 and 2.0 were absolutely wonderful to watch. I loved it because of her charisma mostly, but you can't deny that it had interesting lore and such.

Empires, 'insert number/word' Life series, Hermicraft, Dream freaking SMP, and for the sake of nostalgia series like Stampy's Lovely World, Stayceplayz and Squaishy (i think that's their names, i haven't watched them in years) and their Cake Island in space (or whatever it was, those who know will know)... They all have LORE.

In it's core, all these people playing Minecraft are telling a story. And it's not some shit story, no it's meaningful and fun and interesting. These are people born to create, born to tell stories, but maybe don't have the gift of being amazing writers or directors or never got the chance they should've. YouTube and Minecraft were ways to express yourself, share a piece of yourself and your work with the masses without needing to be published or hired to write.

You wouldn't shame directors or actors or writers for doing the same exact thing. So why shame these people? What have they done that's wrong?

Just like a director, you choose how it'll all look. You produce your own sets, and costumes and have actors. In it's core, it's all an indie movie/series.

The older generations don't realise that what some people you don't consider artists do almost the same thing as people you shame and call 'attention seekers' (yes, mom, I'm looking at you)

Im sorry im yapping so much, but i feel like it's important to say this

[nobody-for-sure]

Two Peas in a Pod

Two assholes with feelings are bound to have struggles. Can a relationship built on nothing but rude words really last?

(Gender-neutral reader, sfw, ~1.8k words; cross-posted on AO3)

Everyone says that you and Scaramouche are two peas in a pod.

By which, of course, they mean that you're both assholes. Petty, diabolical little shits that are completely, unquestionably intolerable... except, for some reason, to each other.

The two of you work. You shouldn't, but you do.

It's a wonder that you get along, really. No one's ever heard either of you say a kind word to the other. Quite the opposite, in the fact: there seems to be some sort of ongoing competition to see which of you can make the best jab at the other and live to tell the tale. (He's winning - for now - only because you haven't found a good way to work mommy issues naturally into a conversation yet.)

Really, you don't seem like a couple at all. At best, maybe like rivals who have hate sex. But the truth is, you're a great match. It might be difficult for others to understand, but you're both supportive... in your own way. A little more so in private, when there's no one else to see: that's when vulnerabilities sometimes slip through the cracks. But who better to reassure you of your worth than someone who's seen the filth of the world as you have, rather than someone pure and benevolent enough to spout that sort of crap to anyone? That's not to say you're overly soft on each other, though... far from it. Still, given how you appear to the public, no one else would even dream of expecting so much as a backhanded compliment from you two.

So yes, though some would be hard-pressed to believe it, you are a couple. Why else would you both be able to get away with saying everything you do? It's unspoken knowledge between the two of you. Neither of you are good at expressing your feelings, so trading insults and arguments is the best you can do. But isn't that the best kind of relationship, where you can feel comfortable arguing, knowing that things will still be the same afterwards?

Words are just words, after all. They are... until they aren't.

All it takes is one day. Too many things go wrong for you to count, and you’re pushing breaking point, one minor mishap away from a total meltdown. Impressively, he's involved in none of those things... he's simply the last straw this time.

"Hah- pathetic," he scoffs when he hears about your day. "Getting worked up over something like that? Ridiculous."

Normally, you wouldn’t even be phased. Deep down, you know what he means by it. 'Don't worry about what they think, they're nobody. Don't let it get to you. Losers like that should mean nothing to you.'

You know that's what he means. But sometimes - at times like this - it would be nice to hear him say it for once.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes against your will, and he stiffens. In retrospect, it's another indication of how much he cares for you: were it anyone else, he would've left the room already. It's a little-known fact that Scaramouche hates when people cry... or at least, when someone he cares about does. He doesn't know what to do, how to deal with it. So as fat salty tears run down your cheeks, he sits rigidly in place, staring uncomfortably at you.

In truth, you can't blame him, because his response was no different than it normally would have been. Yours is. But what right do you have to get offended, suddenly, when your relationship is built off of the teasing remarks and petty jabs you've traded? How can you complain that he doesn't say stuff like that when he never has, and you've never expected him to? You knew from the start that he wasn't the type. And how can you complain when you're the exact same way? What a hypocrite.

You swallow. Maybe the two of you aren't such a great match after all.

You're both assholes, but you both have feelings, too, even if you both pretend you don’t. Is being in love really enough, if no one ever expresses it verbally? Maybe he deserves better, and so do you. Someone who knows the right words to say, and isn't too proud to say them. Someone who will cradle you in their arms and whisper reassurances when you need them the most.

...Even after being in a relationship for so long, you don't think you'll ever get that from him. It’s not the sort of relationship you have, and... you don't think that's going to change anytime soon. Both of you are too stubborn. He's too stubborn. At first you didn't care, but now...

...now you're not sure you want that.

He'll call it the fourth betrayal, you know. But he'll get over it - get over you. He's stronger than he thinks. You know him well enough.

No matter how many times his heart is crushed, he always returns to seeking love. He's misguided, and he's not always good at it. But love is, and has always been, what he desires more than anything. He hasn't realized it yet, but it’s the part of himself he’ll never be able to cut out and discard. The love he yearns for will be what grounds him to this world, so he needs someone who will support him through thick and thin, encouraging him on when he starts to doubt himself, to doubt whether someone like him even deserves love-

-and you need someone like that, too.

You take a deep breath, eyes watery. "Scaramouche," you say thickly, "I think maybe we should br-"

He flicks you hard on the forehead before folding his arms. "Shut up."

You gape.

He glares harshly in response. "If you finish that sentence, I'll kill you."

You narrow your eyes in defiance. Pointless words. He knows you’re not the type to stay silent. If he's going to be like this now, of all times, then you have no doubt. "I think we should-"

This time, he lunges forward and claps his hand over your mouth, tugging you toward him abruptly and twisting your body so that your back falls against his chest.

"I said, shut up," he seethes in your ear. "If you think I'm going to just let you do whatever you please, you're mistaken."

A muffled sob escapes your lips, and a shudder rolls through your body. You feel him tense slightly behind you as fresh tears land on his fingers. Scaramouche really doesn't like when people cry. Nevertheless, instead of releasing you in disgust, he pulls you tighter to his chest.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" he asks tersely.

You're not sure what that has to do with anything, but his grip loosens enough for you to shake your head no.

"Then you should already know. I'm not dumb enough to let the one person who's accepted all my flaws and stayed with me all this time even though I'm... like this... go." The hand that's not covering your mouth curls further around your waist, pinning you to him. “No one else is dumb enough to talk back to me, and I wouldn’t want to be bored.”

He's misguided, and he's not always good at love.

"And we've already agreed that I'm not an idiot. I know exactly what you’re going to say the moment I take my hand off your mouth. So..." To your surprise, he falters for a moment, swallows.

But he’s stronger than he thinks. You know him well enough.

"...So tell me what I have to do, damn it!" His voice cracks slightly, and you suck in your breath.

Perhaps he's stronger than you gave him credit for, too. Strong enough to change.

"Tell me what to do, so that you don't leave me too! Do you think I'm so weak that I can't even make one person happy? I fucking can, and I fucking will! Do you want to bet- OW! What the fuck?!" He jerks his hand away from your mouth, inspecting the teeth marks on his fingers as you wriggle yourself around in his grip to face him. "You-"

"That's for flicking me, dumbass." Your tone doesn't match your actions, desperately searching his face for some sort of confirmation. Visible frustration lines his features, but he sets his mouth in a determined line when you meet his eyes.

He means every word.

"...it will... be hard," you say, barely a ghost of a whisper. 'For both of us' goes unspoken.

"No fucking shit," he responds immediately. "What's the matter? Too much of a coward?" Your eyes narrow and he bites his lip, seemingly realizing that was not the best way to phrase it. "Wait-"

"...Maybe," you admit, and he shuts his mouth. Maybe you are a coward, giving up so easily. You thought you were thinking of him, too, but it seems he has different priorities. (You're a priority. The thought warms you.) There's a definitive irony to presuming to know so much about him while simultaneously acknowledging that neither of you are honest about your feelings. "...I'm sorry."

"You should be." There's no bite in his voice as he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss. You stiffen briefly, before reciprocating.

We'll be okay.

The two of you work. You shouldn't, but you do.

If Scaramouche can change, if he's willing to try... well, then you definitely can. Maybe not a lot (because archons forbid you become one of those cute, sappy couples), but a little goes a long way. For now, just knowing that he really does care - that he doesn't want to lose you - is enough. You’re both a couple of assholes, it's true. But even worse, you’d be a couple of morons if you couldn’t make this love work.

...And he's right, too: neither of you would have as much fun in a relationship with someone 'nicer', where you couldn't engage in 'friendly' banter that makes everyone around you sweat and question if you're both psychopaths. Truly, thank goodness you get to have the best of both worlds.

Because later, when Scaramouche is confident you’re in a better mood and things are more or less back to normal, he turns to you with a smirk. "Looks like I win."

"Win what?"

"The competition, obviously. Of which one of us can say something to make the other snap first." He looks so supremely proud of himself that you just can't resist the opportunity to wipe the grin off his face. It's a good chance to get even, anyway.

"Ah... of course," you say slowly. "It looks like I'm just too nice after all."

Sure enough, his face drops to one of disdain and disbelief. "...Excuse me?"

Your gaze slides to the side as a smile creeps up your face. "Yeah, you know, since I’ve resisted the temptation to bring up mommy issues-"

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU."

You cackle. Looks like it’s a tie.

[cacoetheswriting]

pearl: august 1984

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2k chapter summary: goodbyes are always hard. and as eddie comes to learn, they're especially hard when they happen with a person you love.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, angsty, hard goodbyes, self-doubt / insecurities, mentions of recreational drug use, use of pet names - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

The day Eddie had been dreading for months has finally arrived.

His best friend was leaving to start an adventure in college and she was doing so… without him. 

He really shouldn’t be this upset, after all, he’d been anticipating this moment ever since the two of you found out he wouldn’t get passable grades. But as he watched you pack the rest of the boxes into your parents car, his heart ached. It was suddenly all too real.

The two of you spent the entire summer trying to knock off as many items as you possibly could off a spontaneous bucket list you once came up with while high. From camping in the woods, then watching the sunset and sunrise together, randomly putting up Christmas decorations in July (the trailer looked like something out of a holiday special, for which Wayne almost killed you both), to even getting small matching tattoos — your initials on the inside of your right pinkies. The two of you completed every ridiculous thing on that list and honestly had the time of your lives while doing so. 

“We should come up with a new list for next summer,” you muse, sitting with your legs dangling off the edge of the roof of your parents house.

Eddie smirks. He’s next to you, laying down and looking up at the cotton-candy clouds above as he gently rubs his hand on the bare skin of your lower back in a circular motion. The two of you had been in this position for the last twenty minutes, talking about nothing and everything all at once. And Eddie’s not a religious person by any means, but he thinks this is what heaven must feel like. He’s sure of it, actually.

“Maybe we could go on a mini road trip? Hm?” You continue, glancing back at your best friend's relaxed frame. “Celebrate you graduating in style, in New Orleans, as opposed to the stupid Hideout. What do you think?”

He smiles at the thought. He smiles at the fact you’re actually planning to still be in his life next year, never mind going on a trip together, despite your clear ability to make friends anywhere you go. Then, because of the same exact reason, his smile falters and he sits up slightly, propping himself up on his forearms before tilting his head as he looks at you.

“What if you meet someone new?” Eddie ponders and although the tone of his voice is teasing, the expression on his face is filled with worry. “You’re not gonna want to celebrate my delayed High School graduation when you could be goin’ on some fancy trip with your fancy college friends.”

You roll your eyes then lay backwards, leaning against his side. “Why would I want to make new friends when the one I have now provides me with enough dramatics?”

The tease earns you a melodic chuckle and a poke to your ribcage. 

“Ha!” Eddie mocks, “You’re hilarious.”

“And you’re being stupid, so just agree to the New Orleans plan and shut up ‘cause all I’m tryin’ to do is have another perfect summer.”

Eddie huffs lightheartedly before laying back down, one arm now around your shoulder, holding you close. The giggles die down slowly and he lets out a content sigh.

“Shit, princess. I gotta be honest, I don’t think we’ll be able to create anything nearly as perfect as this.”

And for Eddie, it really was the perfect summer with the perfect girl. His girl.

Unfortunately for him, his girl was playing tetris with her belongings, making sure it all fit in the boot of the car, as he watched with a sullen look on his face because you weren't really his and this would be the last time you two saw each other at least until Thanksgiving.

Eddie realised his feelings for you developed into something he wasn’t used to after that afternoon in the back of his van, back in March, when he sang Me and Bobby McGee to you. Ever since then, he had tried to navigate around this unforeseen situation and later, the last few weeks to be exact, he even tried to tell you how he felt on numerous different occasions. Well, actually, tried is a strong word. 

The correct expression would be he thought about telling you, but every time the moment felt somewhat right, he chickened out. His insecurities got the better of him because what if he didn’t really like you in a romantic way, just made himself believe that he did since you were leaving and his mind was selfishly trying to convince him professing his feelings would get you to stay. Or worse. He was scared to be honest ‘cause what if you didn’t feel the same way and he just flushed years of friendship down the drain.

But right this second, despite all perceived consequences and scenarios he replayed in his head on loop, Eddie was full of regret. He should have been honest with you since, at the end of the day, it didn’t matter if you liked him back ‘cause he’d remain your friend regardless. You, your friendship, meant more to him than any potential relationship.

“Eds,” you hail him back to reality, “Can you be a gentleman and help me with my last suitcases? They’re all that’s left in my room.”

He nods, plastering a fake smile on his face, and follows you inside. 

The once colourfully decorated bedroom, your safe space as well as his, was now pretty much empty. Everything was gone, aside from permanent pieces of furniture, random posters, awards for different high school accomplishments, and knick knacks you thought were too childish for college.

You point to the suitcases you would like for him to take, but Eddie's distracted. His eyes are darting around the space. He's remembering where things used to be and all the memories associated with them, and he seriously thinks there’s nothing left to do but break down.

“Eddie,” you say in a soft tone, standing in front of him, “Are you okay?”

All he can do is shake his head. The action, albeit small, was enough for you to drop the bag you were holding and wrap your arms around him.

The hug is intense yet gentle all at the same time. You rest the palms of your hands on his back as he lifts his own arms to hold you in place by your waist, grip tightening with every passing second. And he’s a complete goner. Head over heels. I think I like you as more than just my best friend, he thinks to himself and it really takes everything he’s got not to say those words out loud.

Instead, Eddie gets lost in the scent of your perfume and the comfort of your delicate breathing into his frame. He’s memorising how your touch feels, how peaceful it is to simply be hugged by you. He wants to remember this forever and be able to think about it when you’re a thousand miles away.

He's not exactly sure how long the two of you stand like this for. Not like he cares, though. He wishes you could remain in this position forever. Reality unfortunately strikes when he hears you sniffling into his raggedy t-shirt. You proceed to reluctantly pull away and wipe your nose along with any lone tears that may have escaped while the two of you hugged, before offering him a warm smile.

“I-I actually have something for you,” you say and retrieves a cassette tape from the back pocket of your jeans. “I was going to give this to you when we said our final goodbyes, but I guess it doesn’t have to wait. Here.”

Eddie reaches for the gift and for the first time all morning, the smile on his face is genuine. It’s a copy of Janis Joplin’s Pearl.

“It’s my tape. The same one we listened to in your van that time,” you explain as his fingers graze across the cracked case. “I wanted to get you a new one but I figured the sentimental value of this one is priceless. After all, one of my favourite memories with you is associated with this specific tape.”

That’s when the metalhead looks up to catch your eye. 

“I can’t accept this.”

“No, no, no,” you protest, “It would really mean a lot to me if you took it, Eddie. I kinda like the thought of you listening to it when I’m a thousand miles away.” There’s a brief pause as you hesitate, “Maybe you’ll even think of your best friend when Me and Bobby McGee plays.”

There’s a glimmer in your eyes that Eddie can’t quite decipher, though, it’s a look that makes him want to reach out for you and wrap his arms around you once again.

So that’s exactly what he does.

He slides the tape into one of the pockets of his denim jacket before pulling you into another embrace. You slam gently into his chest, smiling wide, and let out content hum as Eddie places a kiss on your crown. 

This was your last moment together for months. Months. That terrified you both equally. Since the two of you first started hanging out, you’ve only ever been apart for maybe a day or two at a time — usually when either of you was sick, but even then you’d find a way to see each other, if only through a bedroom window.

Eddie was also fortunate enough that your parents really liked him. They never judged him by his appearance or thought of him any less because of the way he was brought up. Even with your dad being a police officer, bailing the curly-haired teen out of trouble on more than one occasion, your parents were always supportive of your friendship.

He’s gonna miss the Thursday dinners at your house. The family trips he was always invited to join. Learning how to fix up cars with your dad while you sat on a broken chair in the corner of the garage and did your homework. And even though Eddie knows that even with you away at college, he always has support in your parents, the thought of doing any mundane task without you, makes him sorrowful.

“I’ll never not be thinking of you, princess.” Eddie announces honestly. “Even when you’re making new friends and are busy forgetting all about me,” he tries to joke, but it just pains him more, “You are always, always, going to be on my mind.” 

He thinks then that his feelings are indeed genuine. He’s convinced mainly because this feels right. Him and you, holding each other like this. It feels… right. And his heart grows fonder as you squeeze him tighter, plus he swears there’s an aura around the two of you, glowing a bright fucking pink like in the comics he’s always telling you to read. Jesus Christ. Screw “liking” you. He may actually even be deeply fucking in love with you.

Which is exactly why he cannot tell you. Especially now.

You deserve to say goodbye to Hawkins, even if it’s just temporary, and get the education you’ve been dreaming of ever since he’s known you, meet new and interesting people, and make memories that he’ll gladly listen to detailed retellings of. Eddie knows if he told you right now, whether you felt the same way or not, you would feel guilty for leaving. You wouldn’t enjoy yourself as much as a college experience is supposed to be enjoyed ‘cause you’d be constantly thinking of him.

Eddie couldn’t do that to you. Not now. Maybe one day he would admit it to you: “Princess, I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen.”. Honestly, he doesn’t mind that at all. Just depends on where your life takes you, which he selfishly hopes isn’t too far away from him.

“Shit, I am really gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Eddie.”

pearl masterlist | main masterlist

thank you for reading <3

& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella

[boxblondiecoops]

You should totally write a small thing bout the Band AU stuff, justice for the rockstar ( especially) trey and matt fr 🙏🏼 I would love to see you give your own opinions about it

-Saphari ★

As someone who literally listens to DVDA (I listen to maybe two songs) I- I'm so gay for the band AU shit. Like knowing Matt and Trey literally can sing and play shit makes me shake.

Mostly because of this. It's- you can see the energy and I need that. The neck, the hands? All it. All him.

I can not control myself, is what I'm learning. This is kinda smutty like it- it's just me being slutty for them tbh. Ok anyway idea times.

Gender neutral, mentions of slutty behavior.

✴✶✴✶

Let's see. Imma break this up the I can organize my thoughts.

If you're a fan...

So if you're just a fan, they (Matt and Trey) would both, likely, call you out if you're a "regular" at they're concert's.

And probably give you like a big hug over the railing at the like meet and greet sign bullshit after word SOULY to see you turn red and stammer.

They love you tho, I mean come on. You're adorable. Like a puppy.

If you don't understand some of the lyrics to the songs and like.. what they mean? Trey is ALL over you. Because he has that dumb stupid fucking kink.

If you have the same music taste as Matt, like Primus and shit? He's so down for anything you have to say. You could say the sky is purple and he'd look up and go "damn you right babe"

They LOVE knowing the fact they could probably tour anywhere and someone as adorable and innocent as you would just follow them and it's the exact OPPOSITE of what they're ego needs.

They give you a nickname since they don't really.... Know your name, just your face. Probably referencing the outfit you wore or your hair color or something dumb, I donno.

If you happen to bump into them just before the-the band starts? And like get blushy and explain yourself they just kinda smirk at each other and ask if you wanna hang out

It's fueling they're egos so damn much. Collectively.

Like Matt probably puts his arm around your shoulders and is like "backstage tour, just for you" and guides you back there.

And Trey's just watching you and shakes his head, tongue against cheek, because he knows it would be just so fucking easy to get you to do whatever they wanted.

But they sooooo offer to sign your chest. Or your hip. Or your thigh. Whatever, wherever.

They love it because it's like they claimed you.

Oh my god. You asking someone to take a pic of you three and it ends up being that one pic of like that lucky girl being kissed by both of them on the cheek.

Hangin out in the van with them before songs becomes a usual thing.

They also don't know your name still- anything they sign for you is made out to your nickname.

Like maybe Trey asked for it when he was drunk after a concert but he does NOT remember but he remembers moaning it as he uh relieved some stress....

And Matt definitely heard it come from your friends but he doesn't care about your name, no, he wants to hear HIS name leave your lips.

They do learn your name after a few repeats of they're concerts, they aren't total assholes.

But both are ridiculously talented. Trey's got that breath control and Matt's got those big bass hands. And Trey has the tongue technique and Matt has the ambidextrous talent. And that's all I'm saying about anything ever.

At the end of the day tho, they do find it admirable that you genuinely like them and the shit they make.

Trey can be a lil.............. self destructive when it comes to specific stuff he's not proud of, but knowing you'll give him genuinely helpful critiques makes him feel a bit more relaxed about it.

And with Matt's temper? He tried his best to keep it under control but you're like the one person he genuinely can't get mad at. Like he's tried. It doesn't work. You just make him soft.

If you're their manager...

Oh, they LOVE making it hard for you.

Like they do the most questionable shit on stage and then you have to explain it to like so many people and it basically just goes

"Who actually controls them?" "Who fucking knows. It ain't me." ".... Huh."

Example: the red carpet + dress + acid shit.

Good luck explaining that to the press....

They did try to get you to match with them that day... Maybe not the acid but they both thought you would've looked lovely in a dress like theirs.

And then you gotta yell at Trey to button up his shirt because he's being slutty for the paparazzi again and tell Matt to chill because he's about to verbally destroy a poor journalist for pronouncing a word wrong.

Also they shout out to you ALL. THE TIME.

On stage, during interviews, anywhere, everywhere.

Literally with out you, this shit can not be done. God knows they won't do it.... Maybe they will, they do kinda have control things, don't they?

Speaking of, you three bud heads a lot. Mostly because Trey writes absurd and inappropriate lyrics and Matt does his damn hardest defending him.

They get away with it tho.

Every single time.

Because they out number you so Matt will distract you while Trey cues up some puppy dog eyes because he knows he has them and they work so well on you

Also they flirt with you constantly. As a joke or for real, who knows, but they love seeing you blush and threaten to quit.

Especially Trey. He loves pushing buttons. And you're his favorite play thing. Like he loves to write dirty, fucking awful songs just to see you blush. Like he shows you one and he just goes

"Good ain't it? I was thinking about you when I wrote it."

And it's obviously about like 69ing or some shit and he has no shame in this at ALL.

And Matt loves like trying to calm you down because he knows he just has that nice soothing voice and sometimes to fuck with you he pulls you into a hug and pets you like a dog and is like

"Sshh, it's ok, baby, it's a joke. I know, he's so mean, isn't he?"

And he's all like pouty and mocking you and shit but you can't get free because the dudes fucking huge.

..... I might wanna be between them. This is such a journey for me, wow.

If something bad genuinely does come from they're teasing, they apologize so out right, serious as fuck and try to fix it the best they can.

Like they don't want you to get hurt or think they just want your body or to tease you- they do genuinely like you and find you funny as hell.

So if they fuck up and shit goes south during a concert or something, they take responsibility.

Although, with the way they can talk they're way out of shit? Psh, it rarely happens.

They do try to keep your name clean tho. They make like to fuck around and do stupid shit but they know you take your job seriously and you deserve respect for that and refuse to let you get roped into they're media fuck ups.

Also they throw you the best thank you partiest at the end of each tour concert. Like whatever you wanna do? Done. It's for you.

You planned the whole thing (the tour), had a budget, set up venues, you deserve more than a shitty lil party but fuck man. It's what they know sometimes. But it's with your best interest in mind.

They fucking LOVE you. They're just so fucking greatful for you not only helping them, but genuinely supporting them.

Speaking of- you are the one person they DO NOT prank.

If they do, it's dumb harmless shit like spraying you with silly string while you piss.

If someone does prank you or takes something too far??

Gone. Matt and Trey no longer know that person. They over stepped and gotta deal with the shit storm that's abouta knock the person's career dead.

If you're a band member...

You're fucked, bro.

The teasing from the other two scenarios gets worse because you just- you're stuck with them. All the time.

In the hotel rooms, on the bus, going to eat, sleeping, showering for fucks sake.

Privacy? Gone.

Well, not entirely. They still get you piss with out them, but they love being by you so they're glued to your hip.

You are their favorite lil band member and it shows.

They give you the best spot on the bus (the seat that doesn't hurt your ass after four minutes), you get first dibs on food during rehearsal breaks, you just-

You get the special treatment, ok?

You guys can "fit in the hotel shower and save the whales with the water you don't waste by taking three sperate showers"

Says Matt as he giggles and strips his clothes off and Trey just nods and smirks and is probably just gonna treat it like it's a casual thing friends do all the time because y'all are all adults anyway.

"It's fun." "Relax a lil." "I'll give you a shoulder massage." "I got the shampoo covered."

I think I'm just going through a lot while typing this out.

If you play the guitar and one of the strings snaps and cuts your hand, you have no idea how fast Matt while drop his bass guitar to help you out.

Trey'll make sure it doesn't happen again. And if it was the result of another band member pranking you?............. That dicks out the band. Doesn't matter. You got hurt, this isn't a joke. No one's laughing.

If it scars, the boys make a habit of kissing it as an apology. They're sweethearts when they want to be.

Trey probably lays awake at night thinking about how often you get hurt now and wants to wrap you up in bubble wrap. He thought you needed stitches.

Matt just double- triple checks the strings of any instrument you play before your allowed to touch it. He hated seeing you like that, it scared him.

If you play the drums, Matt and Trey will show you videos all the time of cool stick tricks and has if you can do them.

Also one of them makes a joke about you doing that to his dick but IDK who. You decide.

It you sit down with Trey and help him write a song he just gives you like heart eyes the entire time and he genuinely can't stop looking at you.

God forbid you have a cute mannerism when you write tho, he'll giggle and think about it for days. Literally.

And he always goes to Matt and is like "did you know they fucking do *insert thing* when they focus?" And he just sighs like "yes dipshit. This is the seventh time you've told me."

But Matt also hits him with the "dude I said my finger hurt and they kissed it for me" and sticks his tongue out at him.

Trey was pouty for the rest of the day.

They turn into idiots. Like puppies fighting for attention.

The way they CONSTANTLY make sure credit is given where it's deserved.

If you write a set of song lyrics to go into Trey's song? Guess who's singing it~ You are. Because you deserve the spot light.

Oh you wrote a riff for Matt? Shit, baby, it's yours now. Play it at the next concert and tear that shit up.

They also constantly talk about you during interviews and how greatful they are to have you and how you help make the creative process so much easier.

Don't imagine laying between them on the hotel bed and just whispering and giggling and kicking your feet at 3 am while the others are asleep and eventually you guys fall asleep all snuggled up.

These boys get handsy tho watch oouuuttt.

If you wear something revealing they just- they can't help it.

Someone's gonna call you pretty while the other just nods and bites his lip.

Compliments THROWN at you from across the room, dude. Literally.

They work really well off of each other so they rarely like fight for you.

Oh!! Oh they always go to you for help with naming songs and albums and album pics and shit.

-

Lowkey ashamed of myself because I feel like I could write more- I'm just blanking. Anyway @saphiari here ya go!! My shitty lil thoughts~

[mrs-monaghan]

Jikook also have the same exact pots & exact brand confirmed. So now what? The dishes TK have ARE NOT the same set. Same brand, but Tae's set is Fondaco & JK's set is Incanto. Both sets have been identified. The odds of ALL OF BTS members having the same brands in their house is high cause all the stuff they get sent for free. JK's has had his dishes since early 2022.

JK can't be stirring shit with Tkk when he actively debunks TK. That hickey was about as loud as you can get, cause that represents him cheating on Tae with Jimin and then he rubbed it in Tae's face, who was smiling the whole time. Me, I'm kicking one, while actively tearing the others hair out. I'm not smiling if you show up after a night of drunken gay shenanigans just the two of you alone and you get a sus hickey on your neck. I'm throat punching the hell out of you both. JK's thirst trap for JM's bday. Also not okay if JK is dating Tae. The 2 hour JM live watching old Jimin and Jikook clips, while talking about JM 2 hours straight, with his big in love heart eyes on full display, is ALSO NOT OKAY if JK is dating Tae. JK spending a couple holiday with JM confirmed and not Tae is not okay if JK is dating Tae. JK attending a premiere with his friend of 13 years & having drinks after and going home separately CONFIRMED. Is VERY OKAY AND NORMAL. Understand what counts as line crossing and what doesn't. Then the answer to who is really real becomes very evident and clear. No matter what Jikook define their relationship as, they fucking & been fucking for years. Sorry not sorry.

Anon, well put. Well fucking put 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾

Guys I woke up this morning and I honestly did not think we would be discussing utensils in order to determine what ship is real. Honestly, this shit is ludicrous. But if the vermin wanna say Tkk is real because they have the same plate then, well... 2 can play at that game. Ig

Jimin's pot

JK's pot

So can we all just conclude that this topic is ridiculous and just put this to bed? Because if we really wanna get into it, there is a million reasons as to why Tkk could have matching bowls.

Option 1) V doesn't cook so for all we know all this could be catering. Or his friends could have brought the food and the dishes

Option 2) V's table 👆🏽 has alot of RANDOM plates but V only has that one bowl.

Meanwhile Jk has a matching set. So,

How do we know during one of ot7 visits, JK didn't cook everyone food and V took away some in one of JK's matching bowls?

Option 3) When they all moved out from the dorm, someone may have gifted all members bowls. Like anon mentioned above, they get shit for free all the time. Or, a member could have gifted others these bowls

Option 4) Tannies went to see JK, brought food with them and JK kept their plates. All their plates. Not just V's.

Option 5) JK visited V and stole his plates. Or took some food with him in V's plate.

Or option 6) Like an anon earlier mentioned, almost everything in JK's house is from Hybe. Who's to say that doesn't include utensils??

Option 7) According to anon, Isn't even the same damn plate. Something about Fodaco Vs Incanto 🤷🏽‍♀️

I bring up all the above reasons because it's preposterous how much weight is being put on a single plate. I'm not saying Jkkrs don't look at pans and bowls, that would be hypocritical. I'm just saying when we found out Jikook have the pan we didn't fuss about it this damn much. We have bigger things to fuss about. So maybe y'all should be asking yourselves why one single plate means so damn much.

In conclusion:

That hickey was about as loud as you can get, cause that represents him cheating on Tae with Jimin, and then he rubbed it in Tae's face, who was smiling the whole time.

[oh-surprise-its-me]

So one day, Jamie wakes up next to Roy and he notices Roy is shivering.

Turns out he's sick and apparently is ridiculous stubborn when he is. Wants to do all the things himself but Jamie refuses to let that happen.

Maybe he has a remedy from Georgie and Simon or he looks something up.

How does it go? 😁

Badly knowing that idiot.

-

When Jamie woke up and Roy was still in bed he knew something was odd. The man is almost always up before him on weekdays. And it’s a Tuesday. He’s shaking slightly.

Jamie brushes a hand over Roy’s hair. It comes away wet. Jamie flicks on the lamp and looks at Roy. Shit. He’s pale. “Oi? Roy? Wake up.” Roy mumbles and then sits up. “I’m awake. Ready to run?”

Jamie can only stare. “Uh? No? You’re sick old man. Back to bed and cold meds time.” Roy shakes his head and slides out of the bedding.

As soon as he tries to stand his knee buckles. He catches himself on the bed and slowly lays back down. “Alright. A bit more sleep. But grab my laptop. Call Beard yeah?” Jamie smiles at Roy. Must be bad for him to not want to go in today. “No laptop. Sleep”

Roy growls at him but is cut off by a cough. “Laptop Jamie.” Jamie sighs. He grabs the kindle instead. “Read babe. No work. Read or sleep.” Roy glares up at Jamie. “Lucky I love you.” Jamie kisses his cheek quickly “love you too!” He jumps out of bed to Roy’s protest and takes the stairs two at a time.

Food. Soup. Mums recipe. He can do this. Get the groceries delivered. Start cutting onion. Chicken. All the potatoes. He can do it.

-

Jesus why is soup so hard. But he’s finished. Success soup and everything. He dishes some out and takes it up for Roy.

Roy who is curled around a pillow with bachelor in paradise on in the background. “That crazy Kat girl still there?” Roy slowly nods. “She is latched into him like a barnacle, she’d show up in his closet with his toenail clippings.”

Jamie let’s out a laugh. That’s at least a sign that Roy is feeling a little better. He takes Roy’s temperature again. Still warm but better then early in the day.

“Soup baby. My mum make this every time I was sick. Fixed everything.”

Roy blinks at the soup. “Thank you Jamie. Truly. Never had someone cook me real soup before just because I’m sick. Ate a lot of canned soup.”

Jamie clicks his tongue, “shame. Scoot I’m holding you.” Roy gives him a smile and slides forward.

Jamie sits behind Roy so he can lay on his chest. “Comfy. Should use you as a pillow more often.” Jamie presses another kiss to Roy’s head. “Always welcome babe.”

He leans and kisses Roy right on the mouth next. “Oi! Idiot! You’ll get sick!” Jamie laughs. “No I won’t old man I’m fine.”

-

Four days later Jamie is sick with the exact same thing. But at least they can kiss this time around.

[cr4zyoosh]

Creepypasta Oc Story! Tell me your thoughts about it & if I should also do some art for it too!

Note: this takes place in the AU of the slender man Manson but it’s sort of my take on it & with myself insert!

Chapter One:

I needed to escape… escape from something.

Why? Why specifically me?

It started with these… dreams. Dreams that no other ever dreamt about, more or so never experience something like this before. It was like, an omen of some sort, telling me something is going to happen. The dreams consisted of things/events that will happen to something or someone in the near future, very near future; as in a week or even a day the event will happen. It consisted of someone finding something like a dollar on the ground, then I wake up & if I’m out I see that exact thing happen.

It was nice at first, it made me happy to know that I can have that type of power & be good to people about it. I started writing down every single dream. But suddenly, they started to… slowly become more specific, specific as in grim & slightly dark.

One consisted of someone falling & getting badly hurt. As this went on, more & more became more gruesome, it got so bad I had a dream of someone getting hit by a car; next day it happened.

Then one day, they finally stopped. Thank god they stopped, I was actually feeling myself slowly go insane from having the dreams. Until only a couple weeks later, it happens again. But this time, it’s different.

These dreams are good, but it’s now consisting of my loved ones, such as friends & family. Oddly enough even people I hate to my core start showing up. My friends & family keep having the good dreams, thank god.

But my foes, not so good. I enjoyed them, until I realized I seen on the news, one of them died. Jesus Christ I didn’t want that to happen! What if now it will be my love ones next? I can’t take it anymore I need to stay up & research.

I begin my research on evening one day & haven’t slept since then. I kept myself awake with coffee & meds. I stayed inside my room fearing I will fall asleep somewhere & something bad happens to my love ones. During this time, I was a very hateful person to be around, I wish I wasn’t. One night I couldn’t take it, I went to sleep. I fell asleep. Before I fully did, my mom came into my room & wished me goodnight & I love you, I did as well mumbling, then I even said tell everyone I’ve hurt for a while now, that I’m deeply sorry.

I’m sorry to you too mom. She said it was okay & that she will. Then I finally went to sleep. This time, it was different. Too different. I was in the woods, dark & foggy. Pine trees everywhere. I was running, like something was chasing me. I felt it in my bones something not human was chasing me. I needed to find somewhere, I needed to escape. I ran & ran until I didn’t feel my legs anymore & until I didn’t feel that feeling anymore. Finally after what it felt like forever, I stopped.

I stopped running & sat down at a tree. The tree, it felt real. Too real. I didn’t care, I was too busy catching my breath, as I was I checked my bag I had with me; oddly enough I had things I needed to almost run away. My phone, headphones, charger, some clothes, some stuff for hair & hygiene, sketch book, pencil case, notebook, & a book to read. I thought that was odd but I dozed off before I even started to question it.

When I woke up, I was still there. Same spot, same tree, same position. Okay, odd. I checked the time, 4:44am. Huh, alright. Angel numbers. This shit is ridiculously fucking weird. Then I heard something towards me, I couldn’t get up in time so I scrambled in my bag for some type of protection maybe? I found a pocket knife, not sure where it came from but didn’t matter, that fucking THING is back! Why does it want me?

What is it? What did I do to deserve this? No time, I gotta act fast. Once this thing was close to me & about to grab me- *STAB* *thumb* I pulled out my phone for a flashlight, I needed to see what the fuck this thing was that was chasing me & potentially making me have this odd dream shit happen. But instead I was met with- with- OH MY GOD! SHIT SHIT SHIT. I KILLED SOMEONE!

Suddenly I seen police lights, I turned my flashlight off, put my pocket knife in my pocket that I took out of the victims neck, & grabbed my bag, then I was off. I was off running again, I couldn’t go back now not after what I did. My mom, my poor mom would be so disappointed in me. Damnit I should have known it was someone trying to look for me.

Damnit.

I look back as I was running but wasn’t paying attention & ran into something. Something tall, like a tree almost. But it wasn’t a tree. I met eyes with a very tall man, a tall man with no face but has long tentacles, suddenly my ears started ringing & eventually I blacked out.

Chapter Two:

I woke up, dazed & confused. I was on a couch? Who’s & where am I? I look around, I’m in some sort of Manson, it’s pretty nice. I notice that, I’m in the woods still but inside the Manson, how come I never found this while I was out there? I was or so I thought- suddenly the tall man came around the corner with a cup of tea. He spoke to me. “Hello child, do not be afraid.”

I literally almost shit myself. I said to him in a stutter what are you, who are you, why am I here? All the questions I had. He answers with, “You wandered into the woods, the woods exactly where I have been lurking & watching you. I guess you could say I’m a man, a slender man. That is what everyone calls me; they have ridiculous nicknames for me too when they are comfortable. You are also here because I saved you, my child.”

I asked another, saved me from what exactly? What exactly happened? I can’t remember. He replies with “You were running, you killed someone & you had to run. You ran into me, then I brought you back here. Come, come join me.”

He gently gestures for me to come sit with him at the little table. I slowly got up & go over to the table & sit down. He gave me the tea that was in his hand for a good bit. I take a sip since I was really thirsty.

Honestly up until this point I thought this was a dream; until I burnt the shit out of my tongue. I yelp ouch & he chuckles a bit saying “be careful, it is hot.” I started to slowly get… comfortable with him? Oddly enough. I go & ask him, I can’t remember what happened before I was in the woods & if he could tell me or if he knew.

He tells me everything. I am so absolutely shocked & I start to remember. I slightly start to cry, he asks “what is wrong my child?” I answer him with I was so awful to my loved ones before I left because I was trying to do research on what is wrong with me. I never got to say bye to my mom. I feel so guilty. She’s probably so worried about me. He replies with “dear child, it will be okay. I will take care of it.”

I say how, how will he do that? He answers with, “I have very strong powers, I can surely enough to make sure your mother will be alright about you being gone.” He began to tell me about so called “proxy’s” & how he took in a lot of kids himself that were troubled & needed to flee. Now they work for him & have a safe place. I ask, “what do you mean like me? A murderer with weird shit happening to them?” He responds with “precisely, yes, but not exactly weird things happen but more of trauma that turned them into something, something that made them crack.”

I wasn’t even scared, I was relieved that there are others like me. He goes on to tell me about how I will also become a proxy through these, changes. Changes that are sort of like a sickness but it makes someone immune this so called “magic.” Magic that helps you heal from what you may do on missions, help you have an ability, & overall fit in here. He said it will start happening sooner or later. Then it will end on the next full moon. He did mention it is sort of like sick symptoms but slightly worse. More like worse as in paranormal, inhumanly sickness.

I respond with that sounds so “great”, but how does he make me have this happen to me? I asked, he responds with, “I make this special tea that injects someone with the proxy-ness” I nearly choke. I asked him, “so you basically just… poisoned me but then told me?” He responds with a “Yes I did my child.” Then suddenly the door flings open, a group of guys come in.

The one who flew the door open had black longish hair with a white hoodie, another one had a blue mask with no eyes but black blood like coming down the sockets, then the other- wait where- suddenly the other guy literally TELEPORTS to me.

I of course fell out of my chair, I yelled “DAMNIT YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME HOW DID YOU DO THAT.” The guy chuckles & says “I must be that scary, that’s good to know.” The one with the blue mask asks the tall man, “who is this?” The tall man begins to tell him about me. “She is going to be a new member of the gang here. Her name is, Taylor aka Tay or T.” “Taylor, meet some of the proxy’s, the one with the white hoodie is Jeff, the one that scared you is Ben, & the blue masked is Jack.“

Wait a minute, how did he kno- suddenly the white hoodie man asks me “So, how did you get here & what’s your story.” I told him, “I was running, trying to escape from… something, first it was an entity or something, I could feel it but then it disappeared & I fell asleep by a tree.

I woke up at 4:44am & something was near me again, I stabbed it in the neck but it was a person. I had to run, then I ran into Slender & he took me here.” He literally gave the face of shocked/surprised. He responds with, “Heh, Woah, now I got to know from the beginning. I’ll tell ya mine if you tell me your story as well.”

He said this as he sat on the back of the couch. I then begin to tell him everything. After that, he says “wow, that’s really, that’s really fucked up. Minus your enemies, pffft probably deserved it.” I chuckled, I replied with, “Not going to lie, they did; they were really bad people that did me so wrong.” Jeff gave a smile of that’s the spirit, they did deserve it.

He begins to tell me about his story. After that I replied with something of the sort of “I’m sorry that happened to you. You didn’t deserve that.” It must had perked up the ears of Ben & Jack because they too gave me their stories briefly. I replied with saying they also didn’t deserve what happened to them. Jeff tells Jack (by calling him Ej) that the others should be here soon. Ej replies with “good, fucking Toby owes me for the kidney he made me leave behind the one day because he “swore” he heard something & that we needed to leave.

I chucked at that. Suddenly, I felt dazed again, I was blacking in & out, I could feel myself getting sick or something.

My body was hurting so badly. I ended up collapsing.

That’s what I got for now! I do have more ideas but I want to see if this gets a lot of attention! My friends said I should post it somewhere so I figured I put it here!!

Tell me your thoughts!

[frostbite-the-bat]

no but genuinely. i love shadow filbo dearly. he means a lot to me.

he marks a time for me where i began embracing what i like just... for the sake of it!

he embodies the things that inspired me to draw online in the first place. hell, sparklecat characters with bangs have made me stop cutting my hair. i haven't cut my hair properly since. just because i wanted the same bangs, not knowing how hair works. now i have what is best described as messy fluttershy hair. to many people just how long my hair is, is what defines me when they see me and my hair is in a way special to me.

and again - he was what inspired me to draw. in class i'd be drawing my own sparklecats at the age of like 8, with bangs and wings and little companions that sit on clouds that rain hearts. (and bolts and skulls when ANGRY!)

i put rainbows on everything. i thought nyan cat was the embodiment of everything good in the world. i listened to nightcore versions of songs only. i say, as i am listening to nightcore, right now.

because of all these old classic animation memes and sparklefurs and silly scene and emo song flash animations i'd find... i'd pick up ms paint and draw. i imagined just how i'd animate, finding even the simplest methods absolutely mesmerising. there is something to be said about me being this young with internet access - because it very much so had it's negative effects. not me watching fetish videos at the age of 8 just because it had pokemon in it. yea that did not have any lasting effects.

but despite all this shit - it raised me! and even just a few years later... like.. 2015 when i began posting online on deviantart for the first time, not being just a lurker... learning how The Computer works better - not only drawing on paper anymore and gaining more and more interest towards digital art... i was already nostalgic towards these earlier days. but still living IN it, y'know?

just having fun, doing my own thing! isn't that what art is all about?

well. then the cringe culture nation attacked. severe bullying at school. and in general, just shame - which i am still fighting in certain aspects. but it's a bit more complicated than just "shame". (more so fear of Things.)

i'd look back at things with either genuine "cringe" or a distaste. how DARE these people have fun? because deep down, i was simply jealous.

if i was going to reference anything old like this, like classic animation memes, it was framed as "JOKE" "NOT SERIOUS" because i feared i would be harassed, made fun of, or people would thing THAT is the best of my artistic abilities. but... it's not like that.

and now, more and more people are embracing this. and it makes me so happy. and shadow filbo helped me fight off these fears a lot and just let me love what i love and be myself.

maybe it's not an ""aesthetic"" that completely defines me, maybe it IS a tik tok trend to do nowadays - but i don't care. without any of this i wouldn't be here. those were my first inspirations. silly colorful cats animated to crunchy mp3s of songs using movie maker and 3 (three!) frames drawn in ms paint. it had so much charm. it had so much genuinity. and i could feel it even back then.

without it i might've not been here as i am now. there are so many things that go into this, of course. but i simply would not be the exact way i am. and i dunno. that's something to think about.

thank you so much, shadow filbo. one "mistake" with you i've had was thinking i should be a good creator of something and respond to every fan and fanart, which only stressed me out. i have... opinions! about being recognized in various places and, as some dub, a "NICHE INTERNET MICROCELEBRITY" (nothing against you fox </3).... yeah! not a fan.

another mistake was dubbing him as a "joke" always. and... he is! he is humorous! i am a jokey person! i like crunchy shitposts! i like being the reason people laugh! i will go to certain levels to even ridicule myself just for the bit, and i don't mind it. i'm hyper(active) and i am just a jokey person, that's that. but... him being called a joke was honestly just a shield from people taking him too seriously.

if people were to mock me for being nostalgic for nightcore, and rainbows, and edgy amvs, sparkledogs, scene culture and clothes, rave songs... all this!

but... no! people loved it! people loved it so much, it moved THEM to create art!

me, referencing things that made ME inspired to draw all those years ago - then inspired OTHERS to draw other things. to embrace themselves. to have fun. to connect.

it means so much to me. it's a bit odd to comprehend, too.

but it means the world to me. sorry if i am ever annoying about shadow filbo, and is often the first thing i bring up when bugsnax is brought up - but he is the highlight of my experience with bugsnax.

thank you so much, shadow filbo. and me and my wretched little claws, of course. for making them. and those that inspired me. those old friends i lost along the way, too. and those, that inspired those that inspired me. and so forth.

thank you.

[black-nirvanna]

JJK 261

I'm just gonna write a rant about the most recent chapter because I have some thoughts that I wanted to get off my chest. So, there's going to be some spoilers below. And if your heart can't handle it right now, you can just keep scrolling.

I wrote down all my thoughts in my notes app so I didn't miss anything because this is all I could think about driving to work this morning (they were written down at stop lights by the way there wasn't any texting and driving) and so I could organize them in here. I feel the exact same that I did after 236 which is such an odd feeling it feels like Groundhog Day or something.

The general consensus seems to be that everyone is pretty much upset about it, which yeah because what the fuck just happened. However, every time there is a critique of Gege's writing I noticed there's always this loud quarter of the fandom of contrarian, toxic, anime bros that tell anyone that critiques Gege or the story that they just doing understand his 'genius' and are just upset that their fav is dead. Which is partially true but the choices that gege has made so far, this one in particular, have been ridiculous. They also bring up how people want new and original stories but are upset when they get it with jjk. But just because its different doesn't mean it's good.

And they're like this with everyone but it's much more egregious when they interact with any Gojo fans. Any critique is just 'cope'. I can't help but feel like this is a symptom of, of course, misogyny and things that are loved primarily by women are usually shit on. Like if Gojo's fanbase was mostly men, I don't think they would be talking to them like they're incapable of understand Gege's writing or that they are being over-dramatic or 'cope'

The people who are praising this as Gege's 'genius' were also the same people who wanted Gojo written out of the story to further the plot and let other characters shine. But somehow him being used as basically as a human mecha is different and okay. Like we've literally come full circle back to the original Gojo/Sukuna fight basically. And for what? For Gojo's body to be mutilated (again) and for Yuta to maybe die in the next two chapters. This whole chapter just had me sick to my stomach. And it definitely put a poor taste in my mouth the way Gojo's potential comeback was used to bait and switch a significant portion of the fans like this.

I'm also, like lots of people I've seen, will be taking a break from the manga for now (I could also very much be lying lol). There's just nothing really motivating if we’re getting the 'everyone dies and Yuji's left alone' ending. And also the manga is very emotionally taxing so I think it’s good to pull back a little.

Anyways this was long and rambly. Thanks, if you made it this far and to my fellow Gojo girlies I hope you're doing alright and taking some time to yourself. It'll be okay💕

Also, this is totally not me writing this at my desk rn:

[skarlette1]

Pop-a-licious

--A prequel of sorts to Trojan Teddy.

There wasn’t a lot of income potential in being an ex-supervillainess. All the lucrative gigs I would have taken as the badass mercenary Kylie Kannar, or the profitable mayhem I’d have wreaked as the cybernetic supervillainess Razorgirl were now off-limits. My superheroine girlfriend Lodestone would never forgive me if I pulled that kind of shit anymore. She actually believed all that stuff about “justice” and “private property” and “not breaking people’s legs to make a buck.” Most days I found her sunny disposition both deeply annoying and completely adorable, so I tried to to be a better badass.

But a girl’s got bills to pay. My marketable skills that did not involve beating the crap out of people were minimal at best.

Luckily, there was one gig that skirted the line: Capturing other supervillains. As long as I didn’t actually murder them, Lodestone could hardly get mad at me for doing the exact same thing she did, right? Some of the creeps that I’d worked with in my bad ol’ days had bounties on their heads that were completely ridiculous.

Take this idiot called Plaything, for example. I could live for over a year on the reward for his capture, and the only superpower he had was to control fucking toys. We’d worked together once. The moron had tried to take down Mnemonica—the telepath who can literally read your mind—by flying toy airplanes at her! He used to call his need for showmanship ostent-awesome. We was always making up stupid, silly words like that. He tried to get me to use them; I’d rather slit my own throat.

I’ll admit that he got the better of Mnemonica for a minute. But when Captain Alpha showed up to rescue her and Plaything defended himself with a squirt gun, I could barely cut my losses and run fast enough.

But I did remember where Plaything’s hideout was. A smart supervillain wouldn’t have gone back to a place that other people knew. But would you use the word “smart” to describe someone who attacked superheroes with teddy bears?

When I got to the abandoned hula hoop factory on the outskirts of Skarlette City, I found a trail of trading card wrappers leading to Plaything’s secret entrance. Those things would have blown away in a light breeze, so he couldn’t have dropped them too long before. Charging up the taser implanted in my left hand, I headed inside.

The narrow hallway under the factory was damp and very, very dark. Rather than alert Plaything of my presence with a flashlight, I switched my cybernetic eyes to night-vision mode. After a few twists and turns, I came to a large room filled with shelves of dusty, old toys. Ahead, the faint sound of a wind-up music box echoed off the concrete walls. The music box was likely a decoy, so I made a wide circle around it, picking my way among stacks of dusty dolls.

Peeking around the corner of the shelf, I was stunned to see a bright shape just a few inches in front of my nose. I nearly grabbed it with my taser-hand before I realized it was just a soap bubble. A few of them floated between the rows of toy shelves, their reflective surface registering unnaturally bright to my cybernetic vision. Blowing bubbles was probably Plaything’s idea of a security system. What a moron!

I stepped around the big bubble and continued to make my way through the room. Every turn seemed to have more bubbles floating lazily through the air. That probably meant I was getting close, but it also limited my line of sight. I didn’t want to stumble blind across Plaything. I snikt out one of the ceramic blades implanted into my right hand and popped a few bubbles. They vanished with a sound that even my cybernetic ears could barely detect. The thinnest sheen of soap residue coated my fingers.

I continued on my way, popping bubbles as necessary. I passed a row of dolls that actually looked kinda cute. They reminded me of Lodestone, with their generous curves and delicate outfits of lace and ribbons. Maybe I’d take one to give her as a gift. She loved this kind of girly shit.

Picking up the doll, the lace tickled my fingertips. More bubbles popped against my arms. I giggled.

What the fuck? I don’t fucking giggle. Particularly not while on a mission. Something was wrong. I needed to withdraw and regroup.

Dropping the doll, I turned and—Fuck!

I tried to drop the doll, but my fist only trembled around her. Trying to turn and walk away, I only rocked on my toes. My whole body had tensed up, every muscle clenching tight.

More bubbles drifted by, bursting as they touched my skin, my clothes, my hair. Each one that coated my body strengthened the bizarre paralysis gripping me. Before long, I was completely frozen in place, my only movement the rise and fall of my chest and the occasional blink. Fucking Plaything must have laced his soap bubbles with a contact paralytic chemical!

“My, my, my!” came Plaything’s reedy voice. “It’s been so long since we’ve had fun together, Razorgirl.”

I tried to tell him that the only fun I wanted was to slice his guts open with my finger-blades. But, with my jaw and lips unable to move, my words came out as inarticulate grunts.

“Good, I’m glad you see the irony. The last time you were here, Razorgirl, you ran away from me. This time, you came looking for me. Now you can’t move a single muscle. I’d call that turnabout-tastic!”

I spit out exactly which of his holes Plaything could jam his stupid, fake words up, but all that came out of my mouth was a stream of drool.

“Oh dear, Razorgirl. Having your stubborn, active mind trapped inside your helpless body must be positively maddening. Let me help.”

Plaything placed a pair of plastic glasses on the face of the doll in my paralyzed hands. They were too big for her head, but it didn’t matter. Since I couldn’t look away, they dominated my field of vision. The glasses had thick, black plastic frames with the word “Hypno Specs” painted on the nose piece. Instead of lenses, they held bits of white cardboard with black spirals printed on them.

“Your problem, Razorgirl, is that your body is ready to be my newest toy, but your mind is just the same serious, grumpy, double-crossing bitch you’ve always been. These glasses are going to help your mind be more like your body. I ordered from the back of a magazine. Just look at them. Just watch the spirals go around and around.”

I knew the spirals were just cardboard. I knew they weren’t actually moving. That didn’t change the fact that I saw them spinning before me. My locked gaze just kept getting pulled deeper and deeper down the spiral, always moving closer to the center, never reaching it. Over and over and—

Fuck! Those bubbles probably had a drug that increased suggestibility, too. I’d had enough supervillains mess with my mind that I knew a hypnotic induction when I was subjected to one. It would be so easy to slide down that spiral and just fall deep, deep, deep into its inky depths...

Not today, fuckhead! Even paralyzed, I had ways to hold onto my mind. I’d learned counter-brainwashing techniques from my former employers at Event Horizon. I just needed to detach myself from the sensations of my body.

“Oh, Razorgirl! Your breath is speeding up. That means you’re playing the escape game. It’s a thrilling game, but one you can’t win.” Plaything held a bubble wand up to my lips, its textured hoop loaded with shimmering liquid. “Tell me your next move in the escape game, Razorgirl.”

Beneath frozen lips, I grunted out Event Horizon Resistance Training. The little puff of breath I exhaled inflated a soap bubble. It floated up before my face.

“What a pretty bubble, Razorgirl. Thank you for breathing your escape plan into it. Watch it float gently away.”

The bubble drifted toward the doll I held. I drew in a breath, desperate to reclaim all my skill in resisting brainwashing. The bubble quivered, but burst against the doll’s silky hair. The soft pop brought my attention back to those ridiculous hypno specs and their endless spiral. I had no idea how to fight against its gravity. My talent for resistance was oozing through the doll’s hair. It soaked down through those long, dark curls the same way the spiral was soaking down, down, down into my soft, open brain. My brain was ready to—

Fuck no! I may not have any special skills, but I was still the meanest, toughest, most badass bitch on the planet. He might have been getting his jollies by stripping off my tactical vest while I couldn’t move a muscle, but there was no way some flabby, pasty-faced nerd boy was going to get the better of me. I growled deep in my throat.

“What a scary roar, Razorgirl! Maybe I’ll let you play at being my personal lioness later. Or maybe my sex kitten. But right now, you’re still playing the escape game. You’ve lost some pieces, but you keep on playing.” Plaything put the bubble wand back to my mouth. “Tell me what you’re using to resist me now, Razorgirl.”

If I just didn’t breathe, he couldn’t take anything more from me. I held my breath. Maybe I could even make myself pass out and collapse on the creepy little fucker!

A pudgy hand slid under my T-shirt and pawed at my breasts. The shock of sensation caused me to gasp out Anger and Pride. The shimmering surface of the bubble seemed to roil with a wrathful red. Every wiggle in its shape showed my fury inside, lunging to return to me.

The bubble popped on the doll’s face. She didn’t flinch as my white-hot rage trickled over her plastic lips. What had anger ever earned me besides trouble? What did I have to be proud of, when I’d been captured so easily by Plaything?

The swirling spirals drew me in. The deeper I went, the deeper there was to go. Around and around and around, my eyes always falling into the spirals. My mind always falling under Plaything’s control. The more I heard his voice, the more his words became my thoughts. The more his hands roamed my body, the more he was able to shape my mind. The more he told me what to think, the more I thought with his voice. The more he rubbed my needy little twat, the more pleasure I felt about obeying him. Soon, I would cum for him and the last of my mind would pop like a bubble. Afterward, Plaything would be the only person who mattered to me in any—

“Nooooooo,”I whined around my paralyzed lips. I couldn’t lose Lodestone. Being with her showed me what else I could be, what else I could hope for—

“Poor Razorgirl wants to cum and submit so badly, but something’s holding you back. What’s your last, losing move in the escape game?” Plaything wheezed in my ear as his fingers roamed my body.

I was so close to cumming that my breath came in ragged pants. Gasping Love Lodestone between stiff-jawed moans, I formed a tiny soap bubble. Short and sexy just like my superheroine girlfriend. The one I would always—

It popped in midair. I popped in his hands. I couldn’t moan or writhe or roll my eyes or arch my back or scream. The climax burst within me like a firecraker inside tiny room. Sharp and hot and deafening.

Plaything opened a little plastic egg from a vending machine. Inside was pink toy slime that he rubbed over my naked skin. As flexibility returned to my muscles, I sagged into him. He gentle lowered me to the floor, my legs weak and quivering from the powerful orgasm.

“The best part of the escape game is that it feels so much better to lose than to win. I loved watching you lose your thoughts through the popping bubbles. And watching you cum when you lost the game looked positively pop-a-licious.” He leaned close to study my expression, his breath sickly-sweet on my face. “What do you think of losing the escape game, Razorgirl?”

Plaything’s eyes were dark and deep, deep, deep. I said the only word in my head. “Pop-a-licious.”

---

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[nu-fin]

Okay, so, Tim would absolutely wear Hawaiian shirts but not like, just everyday showing up to work like ppl usually imagine him doing no way. He’d save them for like, a special occasion like some holiday party or something. Or maybe one day just hide a cheeky one under a jumper and stare at everyone all day waiting for them to notice and make a comment (they do notice, no one mentions it, it drives him CRAZY he’s like “hey hey hey Sasha Sasha you notice anything?? Anything different??? abt me??? Today???” “...did you.. um.. style your hair different?” “Uh, no, no, not that” “hmm... did your... contact lenses get thicker?” She absolutely noticed, she actually thinks he looks pretty good in it, but she’s never going to admit that. He has no idea she’s winding him up. It’s infuriating, but hilarious. She keeps coming up with increasingly ridiculous tiny little things that might’ve changed, soon Martin catches on and joins in, Tim is practically ripping his hair out about it. He dyes his hair at some point and the same exact thing happens except even Jon joined in that time, it was wild, they had to stop when got so infuriated he nearly threw a chair across the room, which triggered a barrage of panicked compliments about how much the colour suited him. They laughed it off but Sasha filmed most of it and put him throwing shit about it around on vine, he still held a grudge against her until not-Sasha was revealed. He finds the vine in a compilation years later during his season three “you can’t fire me (I can’t quit” era and leaves even earlier than he usually would to cry about it)