#the disparity is too obvious

[permit-it]

It's that time of year where I wonder why the fuck someone cast Nick Jonas as Marius for the 25th Anniversary

[honeytrap-graham]

do u ever stop and think wow… i’m really autistic

[tiger-moran]

You know something I've never got is why there are people who seem to think I should consider BBC Sherlock 'mormor' the same pairing as Moriarty/Moran when it's been very obvious to me for many years that most of the people who read and like the BBC Sherlock stuff do not consider my or any other Moriarty/Moran content to be the same pairing as the one they like.

[pokemastercalvin]

as someone the same age as u i'm also too pussy to go to a tournament or get on slippi. a fox beat my ass in front of me while i played on my beat to hell macbook the first game i got like Let me not show my face to yall actually... but u should go to one and report on the experience i need to know

AYE AYE CAPTAIN theres no melee scene whatsoever where im at rn but once im home for the summer i will be forcing myself to go to the nearest local. but i have to get over the fear of slippi first bc im never gonna improve if i just keep fighting cpus forever...

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of physical abuse, and prolonged imprisonment.

You learn quickly that Nanami is significantly more bearable with he's playing house.

It should've been more obvious, in retrospect. If you hadn't been so terrified, so desperate not to fall into your captor's domestic delusions, you might've been more able to catch on more quickly, to realize how much softer he was when you treated him like a loving husband, rather than an obsessive stalker who had the nerve to roll his eyes when you asked if he had anything for you to wear that didn't involve bows and frills. You were slow on the uptake, but then again, he wasn't the kind of man who wore his heart on his sleeve.

His reactions weren't exactly more pronounced when your aggression started to fade, when you realized that he could barely take care of himself, let alone another person. You were skittish, eager to get in and out of the kitchen before he came home, and he was stoic, offering little more than a nod of his head and a muttered 'thank you' when he came home to find a bare-bones meal on the table or his constantly neglected apartment just a little cleaner. It took weeks for him to come to you directly; his suit jacket in one hand and spare button in the other. It should've only taken a minute to mend, but your hands shook so badly that it'd ended up taking ten. He watched over your shoulder all the while - smiling so softly, you'd been able to convince yourself that it was just your imagination.

You pretended that you didn't mind being with him, that the idea of being his stay-at-home hostage didn't make your skin crawl, and in exchange, he let you watch an hour of T.V. once a week, told you how your family and friends were dealing with your sudden disappearance. It wasn't a fair trade, but it was a trade - his domestic bliss for a handful of basic privileges, his happiness for the illusion of your freedom. When you can build up the courage, when you've recovered (or, recovered as much as you can, anyway) from the last time he bent you over his knee, you press for more. And sometimes, it works.

"I missed you," he mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His strong arms are wrapped around your waist, his posture hunched to accommodate the disparity between your heights, and you can feel warm breath on your skin, his deep voice reverberating against your throat.

"Welcome home," you say, because he doesn't like it when you lie and 'I missed you too' might've been the most dishonest thing you could've said. "You should sit down. I just started on dinner, and--"

You pause, cursing under your breath. Nanami is tired enough or kind enough to take the bait. "Make me a list." He pulls you that much closer before straightening his back and kissing your cheek. "I'll run to the store. It's the least I could do, for the only person who manages to keep my head on my shoulders."

You let a second of silence lapse between you, then another. "You know," you manage, eventually, just as Nanami starts to detangle himself from you. "Most couples spend as much time together as they can."

You can practically hear his smile. "You want to go shopping with me?"

"...am I allowed to?"

"Of course." He says it like he hadn't kidnapped you. Like he hadn't kept you locked in his sterile apartment for the better part of a year. Like he hadn't taken you by the neck and promised he'd be the only man to ever touch you again every time you questioned his intentions.

There's another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. Just when you think your heart might beat out of your chest, he adds, "As soon as hell freezes over and curses go extinct, I'll take you wherever you want."

You might've cried, if you didn't know how much he loved wiping away your tears.

Sometimes, it works.

Most of the time, though, he chooses to remind you whose game you're playing.

[ervotica]

𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

request; Hello I was wondering if you could do a Liam Mairi x reader where involving the side-effects of having bonded mated dragons pair so they absolutely go feral with eachother while using the prompt "That's it, fuck, that's a good girl."

synopsis; you and liam discover the trouble with mated dragons when you wind up in his bed. hidden feelings threaten to come to light.

pairing; liam mairi x fem!reader

warnings; smut (18+ only), p in v, soft sex w feels

word count; 2.6k

Reaching out blindly until your hand snags against the soft fabric of Liam’s sleep shirt, you take a shuddering breath as a surge of arousal locks you on the spot, every muscle coiling tight when you press your forehead to the wall and tug him closer. His thighs are bare and they flex when he stumbles towards you, bracing himself by means of a hand either side of your head, corded biceps caging you in when a ragged pant rips through you and you grit your teeth.

“Easy,” he murmurs, though his voice is strained, the veins that wrap the lengths of his forearms like vines protruding from the creamy skin. You suppress a pathetic little noise that bubbles from the base of your throat, tipping your head back as Liam’s hand makes contact with the skin there. “Shh, shh.”

“Li-“ you whisper through gritted teeth. “I need you to tell me to go away. I can’t- can’t control myself.”

“No-“ he says, quickly – too quickly, desperation lining his every syllable. You’re all too familiar with the feeling, the panic that seeps into his voice at the prospect of you leaving in search of another man’s bed. He’s not too proud to beg you. “No. Stay, please.”

The thought of you leaving is near unbearable now he’s close enough to touch you — feel you. Close enough to smell the shampoo in the wisps of hair that fall around your flushed face, close enough that the scent of you cloys in his nostrils and throws all inhibitions out the window.

His body presses against yours and the contact sets every nerve ending you possess alight. You tremble when he glides steady fingers - much steadier than you’re feeling right now - over your half-bare shoulder where your t-shirt has slipped downward, coming to a halt over your skittering pulse. His head falls forward into the juncture of your neck.

“Fuck.” His voice is rasping, barely there in your ears as Deigh does something Áine particularly likes and a crusade of need slams through him.

You thread your fingers through the blond tresses that tickle at your skin, pointedly ignoring the obvious disparity of your bodies, how his dwarfs your own, the way it makes your head spin with the need to get closer, to claw your way into his skin and feel every inch of him.

“Liam,” you whine softly, arching into him as those thick arms twine around your waist, pulling your torso flush to his own. He squeezes you, hands slipping beneath the t-shirt you’re clad in, palming and groping at every bump and ridge, every hill and valley of flesh he can reach. He ventures lower; your fingers tense where they still lay in his soft hair, and when his palms flatten and tap firmly at the backs of your thighs, you know what he wants.

You oblige the clear instruction, pushing yourself up from the balls of your feet until you’re in Liam’s arms, legs looped around his waist and ankles crossed at the base of his spine. Your back hits the wall as he surges forward to nose at your jugular. His lips part, tongue flicking forward to lave at your balmy skin. As his head dips, trailing a hot, wet path of half moons in the wake of his lips, you shudder.

“I know, my girl. I know,” he coos, sympathetic. His words slur and jumble, each sound melting into the next as though he’s drunk from the feel - the taste - of you alone.

The pet name would be enough to have you melting with affection under usual circumstances— now, it’s enough to have you whining, craning your head to slant your lips hungrily over his own, uncaring if it’s messy or filthy or downright sinful. Your only mission is to feel him, to get closer, to roam every inch of him with your ravenous tongue and teeth and lips— greedy for his touch.

If anyone were to walk in they’d certainly blanch at the sight; you pinned against the wall closest to the door of Liam’s room, his eager fingers splayed over your ass as you breathe into each other’s mouths. You’re unconsciously grinding down into him in quick, fervent bursts, and he reciprocates the movement appreciatively, letting you slide down the cold wall until the thick length of him presses to your wet cunt— hindered only by the fabric of his boxers and the lace of your panties.

The material is almost translucent, soaked through with your arousal. Liam coos something sympathetic that you can’t quite decipher for the fog that clouds your every nerve ending, for the hand that slips between your bodies until his thumb is rubbing tight circles into your swollen clit through the ruined fabric. Tears burn at the backs of your eyes and you tremble round him, the pleasure everything you need and somehow nowhere near enough, all at once.

“Shh, shh,” he murmurs. “‘ve got you, angel. ‘S okay.”

You gasp wetly against his kiss-bitten lips, the only warning you give as you begin shuddering against him, your climax ripping through you before you even have time to think. Everything is so sensitive, every brush and graze of his skin against your own amplified tenfold— it’s too much but still, you greedily accept everything he’s willing to give you, teary eyes trained to his throat that works around a swallow as he watches you cum with heavy lidded eyes. Babbling around a sob, you part your lips from his in favour of sinking down into the juncture of his neck, your hot cheeks searing against the cooler skin that greets you like a soothing balm.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

“Liam,” you hiccup, grabbing large fistfuls of his t-shirt, the flimsy material the only thing that separates you from miles of toned skin and muscle. That lopsided grin cracks across his face, a dimple cratering onto the centre of his cheek as his teeth flash in an amused smile; his chest heaves, even more so when you slip your hands underneath his tee to palm at bare skin.

Setting you down on shaking legs, his hand encircles one of your wrists and tugs, leading you until you’re perched at the edge of the bed. He turns, elbows flaring wide as he pulls at the neckline of his shirt and drags the material over his head in one fluid motion. The planes of his back are bared to you, each individual muscle rolling and moving with one another as though they’re cogs in a well oiled machine. You want your mouth on every inch of that skin– no corner, no crevice left untouched.

And then he’s on you, prowling with a predatory glint in those cerulean eyes as his pupils swallow the bright hue of his irises; all he sees is you– the way you shrink and tremble at the fervent way he surveys you.

A wide palm slips beneath your own tee and curls around your ribcage, frantically rising and falling with every laboured breath. He shucks the fabric upward to expose your soft breasts to the cool air of the room, and watches with rapt fascination as your nipples harden into peaks under his attention.

You shift until you’re propped up on your elbows to allow him space to discard the item of clothing, complying when he nudges you until you’re flat against the mattress, legs hooked over his hips. Your head turns, face burning at the wolfish way his eyes rake over you, a great contrast to the flattened hands that scrub sweeping lines over the tops of your thighs to soothe your nerves.

“Don’t hide from me, angel,” he murmurs, folding at the waist to smear a kiss against the curve of your jaw. His next words are a rumble against your skin that seep into your pores, into your very bones. “If it gets too much for you, all you have to do is tell me. And we’ll stop. Okay?”

His cadence is low and rasping, and the feel of the bridge of his nose pressed to your cheek sending a wave of affection through you that knocks the breath from your lungs. You nod.

“Words, sweet girl.”

“Okay,” you croak.

“Good girl.”

Your pussy aches with a sharp throb when he reaches down to press his thumb back to your swollen bundle of nerves; you whine, hips canting up into his touch unconsciously as he slips the wet material down your legs and discards them somewhere behind him.

He presses a kiss to your tummy, your knee, your ankle, and then pushes your legs up and back until they’re folded atop your chest. You gasp when his warm breath fans over your bare sex.

“Liam.”

“I know, angel,” he grunts. His voice patters out into breathless silence as you part your thighs, splaying a hand across his thrumming pulse to wrench him upwards and towards you. He doesn’t resist, putty in your hands. Absolutely, wholly yours.

“Please,” you whisper; his nose brushes yours. “Need you.”

He parts your lips with his own, slaking his hunger on you. He revels in every noise he pulls from your slick lips, every whine and gasp and plead for him to give you what you want. He swallows them all greedily and when - and only when - he’s decided you’ve begged him prettily enough, does he free his weeping cock and line up with your entrance.

He sinks in slowly, every thick inch of him splitting you wider than the previous. He’s thick, cock twitching against your cunt as the flushed head practically begs to be buried inside of you. The colour bleeds from your knuckles as you clutch his biceps, leaving crescent moon indents in the wake of your cruel touch; he hisses, and when he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he sweeps down again to press wet, ardent kisses to your face and neck. He hooks your legs up against his hips, pulling back to rock back into the tight clutch of your cunt with slow, rhythmic movements.

He hits every spot inside of you without trying, the spongy head of him rubbing continuously over a particular spot you haven’t discovered yet; it has you keening, sobbing out a broken moan against his balmy cheek as he coos gentle praises against the shell of your ear.

His entire focus is fixated on him desperately trying to not blow his load at the first feel of your cunt clasping him, breathing deeply through his nostrils as he props a forearm either side of your head.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he gasps, picking up his pace as your enthusiasm starts to peak, your shaking fingers tangling in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Your body arches beneath him, head tipping back when a soft whine spills from your swollen lips.

The lewd sound of slapping skin and heavy breathing encases your senses, drives you further to that edge that you’ve been aching for since you entered the room.

He’s so beautiful like this it sets you alight with adoration— and arousal: blond hair mussed and falling over his eyes, face flushed as he dips down to brush his nose with your own, plush, pink lips parted into a gasp when you clench around him.

“‘M so close, Li,” you croak, tightening your fingers where they’re carding through his hair.

“I know, angel. I know.” Deft fingers slide between your bodies as he works over your clit rhythmically— sweeping movements that alternate between tight circles and up and down motions as he places pressure on that bundle of nerves.

A sweet, quiet little gasp spills from your lips, and Liam doesn’t miss the way you tense, clinging to him harder as you shatter.

He coaxes you through it, movements never slowing as you ride out your peak, whining against his lips when he swallows your sounds with his mouth.

He doesn’t stop until you’re squirming and writhing beneath him, kicking your legs feebly to push him away; he shudders at the movement, back bowing in the centre until he’s spilling into you with a groan. He braces himself with his head buried in the juncture of your neck, arms hooking around the base of your spine to hold you flush to him.

You both collapse in a haphazard mound of limbs and you roll onto your side to face Liam, his cheek still pressed to yours. He brushes the bridge of his nose along the length of your cheekbone, his smile imprinted into your skin as you hum and needle your way closer into his chest.

You don’t know what to say— neither does he. This silence is comfortable regardless, the gentle, lulling energy encasing the pair of you in this bubble.

He brushes a stray lock of hair from your sticky forehead, smearing a kiss along the crown of your skull. Your lashes flutter, body soft and lax against his own as you greedily seep up his warmth. You’re weightless, your head pleasantly blank when he pulls the blankets over you, pressing a final kiss to your cheek before he’s pushing himself out of the bed and to the bathroom.

There’s some shuffling and then emerges seconds later, clad in a clean pair of boxers and clutching a t-shirt for you to take. You’re still how he left you, laying on your side and dozing, cheek smushed against the back of your hand.

“C’mon, angel,” he murmurs, hooking an arm beneath your shoulder to hike you upright, handing you the tee; you rub at your heavy eyes with the backs of your fingers, swiping the fog away. He settles himself between your legs to clean you up, swiping a tissue between your thighs.

“You don’t have to do that, Li,” you croak. “‘M okay, I’ve got it.”

You make to loop your fingers around his wrist to halt his movements, but he only tuts and swats your hand away with a smile. Affection rises in your chest, hot and fast and blinding.

“I’ve got you, my girl.”

There’s that name again. My girl. You’re melting, sure you’re nothing but a pile of mush following those two little words; he surveys you with those cerulean eyes, laced with nothing less than adoration.

“Liam,” you whine, protesting.

“Oh, hush.” He presses a kiss to the curve of your kneecap before pushing the blankets back over your legs.

You pull the oversized tee he’s pushed into your hands over your head appreciatively, resisting the urge to bury your face into the fabric and inhale at the scent of him that cloys the room, that swirls around your face in tantalising tendrils.

You love him, you realise. The admission isn’t terrifying as you thought it would be, but rather a calm wave that washes over you and grants you a newfound clarity. You want this all the time with him. You want everything.

The bed dips as he returns to your side, an arm around your waist until you’re both propped against the headboard, your face resting in the dip of his collarbone. You feel his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

Your chest feels as though it might cave in at any moment, the sheer volume of love you hold for this boy too much for your body to hold onto. You brush your lips against his shoulder, blinking slowly in your haze. The rumble of his laugh carries right down to your bones.

“You’re beautiful,” you mumble, already half-asleep.

“You’re more beautiful,” he whispers back as though it’s a secret. Private words shared between the pair of you, for no one else to hear.

You’re asleep before you can respond, draped lazily over his torso. He shucks the blankets up until they’re covering you right up to your shoulders. Your nose scrunches unconsciously.

Fuck, he loves you.

[decojellyfish]

OH MY GOD I just fell in love with the blog and not if you are taking requests but if so I would like to suggest a guard dog!Ghost and Abandoned kitten!reader where price maybe adopt the reader and ghost take care of her??

I am so sorry this took so long! But thank you SO much for being my first request/ask! This idea is really cute, I'm sorry it's a bit short, but I hope you like it! Also, I hope this makes up for the angst fic about Dragon! Price lol

------

Bonbon

Hybrid AU! TF141 (Retired) Guard dog! Ghost x Kitten! Reader x Owner! Price !!No Romance For Obvious Purposes!!

SFW ~ Fluff

Warnings: None!

───♡───────────── Beginning

10:30 AM. That was the time John Price would go grocery shopping every day. Today’s list was a few ingredients for tonight’s dinner, more rawhide for his rescue dog, Ghost, and paper towels. What he didn’t expect to be suddenly added to the list, after he had just bought and paid for his groceries, was a kitten. Today, Price had to take a different route to the grocery store. The usual trail he would take was under heavy construction, much to his dismay. But he still managed to get to the store. About 4 minutes after leaving the store, he passed by a short alleyway. Now, no one ever really pays any mind to alleys. Until a noise comes from said hypothetical alleyway. And that’s just what happened. A little grunt, followed by a small cry, and then the sound of a takeout box crashing onto the ground. It made the retired captain stop in his tracks and turn his head to look into the dark alley. He could only hear tiny little munches now, and he could only make out the tiniest little figure in the void. Price made sure to be careful with his steps, he could tell that this little thing could be easily startled. Then he finally realized what he had come across.

It was a you! A little kitten and a very hungry one at that. You were munching on someone’s thrown-out, moldy, spaghetti, your tiny little fangs doing the best they could at tearing the pasta apart. It didn’t seem like you’d been there for that long, considering how young you looked. You remained in a little cardboard box, that appeared to be your makeshift home. It was filthy and withering away, like the blanket you had too. And your clothes. And you in general. You were a very dirty kitten. It didn’t help that your being hungry all the time caused you to be a messy eater.

By the time you had realized a big thing had snuck up behind you, your face was already coated in marinara. You snapped your head to look at the big creature and quickly folded your ears back and fluffed your little tail up. You hissed with all your might, knowing that you were probably the scariest thing this large figure, well over five times your size, had ever seen. Price only looked at you, taking in your starving appearance. Eating tossed food was unhealthy for a young thing like you. Surely, he had to have something on him that would make you trust him. He set his bags of groceries down and searched his pockets. He was relieved when he found one of those strawberry bonbons in his back pocket. You know, the ones that only grandmas seem to have. He unwrapped it and set it down in front of your hissing form. He would then grab his bags and slowly back away, watching for any kind of movement that came from you. After what felt like ten minutes, you would sneak up to the bonbon. Cautiously, you would reach your little hand out to it and snatch it right into your mouth. Price was almost terrified, thinking you would choke on it with how disparate you were for this little piece of candy. But thankfully, you didn’t. You would sit there and just let the hard candy melt in your mouth. This tasted so much better than moldy pasta. You looked up at the guy who gave you this candy, reaching up and making grabby hands for more. Price was relieved at your reaction, taking it as an okay that you wanted to be picked up. So he scooped you up into his arms and began the journey home.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ghost could already smell his owner through the door, peeved that he was a little later than arriving home on his usual time. But something was off about Price’s smell. There was an additional scent, something he’d never smelled before. It was a rancid smell, especially overwhelming due to his strong nose. Whatever Price was bringing home, it needed to either be cleaned or immediately disposed of. The door opened, and Price would quickly set his bags of groceries down before going into the bathroom. Ghost would pause, processing that he’d just seen his owner with what looked like a tiny human. Had he been seeing a mistress of some sort??? Ghost would’ve known, he would’ve smelled some perfume on his owner by now. He continued to think about it while he took the groceries and began to put them away in the kitchen.

Price had drawn a bath, ensuring the water was warm but not scalding. You were sitting on the bath rug, looking around the bathroom you were in. The large dog man sitting in the doorway wasn’t that subtle, so you looked at him too. You looked at him for a long time, mostly because he’d been staring at you for a while. It was like a staring contest between the two of you. “That should be good.” Price said to himself, turning around to you. He watched the silent stares between you and Ghost, causing him to chuckle before he picked you up and gingerly set you down in the warm, bubbly water. You mewed and squealed in protest like any other cat would. Price would quietly shush you as he began to mush shampoo into your hair and tail.

After your little bath, during which you spent a good chunk of it verbally disapproving until you realized it wasn’t doing anything. Now, you were content. You’d been swaddled up in a large towel, your hair air-drying as you rested on the couch. Price could tell you were happy because you sounded like an active car engine. You were purring, and you were purring loud. You hadn’t felt this warm and cozy since… well, you’ve never been warm or cozy once in your life. You were always cold, hungry, and never comfortable. Now, you had this random guy clean all the dust, dirt, and grime off of you and now he was preparing food for you. And yeah, this big dog who’s constantly trying to figure out why you suddenly appeared in his home. But you were willing to put up with him. Eventually, Price came back with a small plate filled with soft foods. He would spoon-feed you a bit of squishy rice to which you happily ate it up, you were starving. You would loudly purr through your little munches, causing Price to chuckle. “This must be a lot better than the rubbish you were stuck with earlier, yeah?” You wouldn’t respond, but still purred and opened your mouth for another bite, to which Price readily spoon-fed you some more.

Ring ring! The sound surprised all three of you, Price was getting a phone call. “Agh, work…” He grumbled when he checked the caller ID. “Ghost, why don’t you feed the wee one for a bit, hm?” He handed the plate and small spoon to his big scary dog, to which, he begrudgingly agreed as it looked like he had no choice. Ghost looked down at you as Price stepped away to take the call. You looked up at him, both of you resuming your staring contest. Until you meowed, impatiently. Ghost rolled his eyes, hastily feeding you a spoonful of pudding. The sweetness of the dessert surprised you, you’d never had a dessert that was fresh, cold, and not coated in mold or garbage juices. You immediately meowed again, demanding more. This big monster of a dog couldn’t believe he was being bossed around by this little kitten! But alas, he fed you another spoonful of pudding, then rice, until the whole plate was empty.

About 10 minutes later, Price returned to the living room. He was pleasantly surprised by the scene that beheld him. You were curled up on the couch, sleeping soundly while Ghost was curled around you and loudly snoring. Price could only chuckle to himself, shaking his head before he grabbed a blanket. He placed it over you and Ghost and relaxed on the couch as well.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ghost woke up, immediately alert when he couldn’t smell you. He could hear Price in the kitchen, cooking up dinner for that night. The dog-hybrid got up and began his search for you, faintly being able to smell you from down the hall. Peering into Price’s bedroom, he could see that the television was on. It was set to a children’s cartoon channel, and then he saw you. You were swimming in one of Price’s shirts, making biscuits out of his fluffy blankets as you happily watched cartoons. He would walk up to the bed, sitting on the side of it. His weight caused the bed to dip on one side, making you almost roll over if it wasn’t for Ghost panicking and swiftly holding you in place before he moved to the center of the bed, balancing the weight out. It didn’t phase you, you just went back to making biscuits. It made Ghost chuckle, your nonchalant-ness. Price entered the bedroom after about an hour, ready to announce that dinner was ready. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw you and Ghost playing together. He was using one of his old toys that he had held onto since he was a puppy, playing tug of war with you. Obviously, he was going easy on you, his grasp on the toy limp while you were gripping the toy between your teeth like your life depended on winning. But it made him smile when he saw how happy you would get every time you won each round.

But he would definitely make it harder to win when you grew up.

───♡───────────── End

If you have any requests or asks, feel free to submit them! And thank you again, anonymous, for being my first request!

[galedekarios]

seeing a post that basically confirmed the obvious disparity in content made me think more about a scene i would have liked to see with gale and that i've been thinking about for a while now.

i always felt a bit sad that his condition is so often treated as a joke by the fandom and to a lesser extent by the game itself. i always thought that this is partially down to the fact that we don't truly get so see gale actively be in pain due to his condition, other than brief glimpses and hints:

we do hear the urgency in his voice when he explains when and why he needs an artefact and the relief in his voice when the protag chooses to help him.

we see it, too, when he is afflicted by the arcane hunger condition:

we get glimpses of it when he consumes an artefact:

he mentions it, too, in his dialogues, but it's very much downplayed by gale or phrased in such a way that is meant to overplay it with humour, or perhaps even to distance himself from it by using metaphors:

that is until we actually get to see it through his eyes, if only for the briefest of moments:

*Its teeth, its claws, it's unstoppable as it digs through and becomes part of you. And gods, it is ever-hungry...*

gale also has an idle animation where he--quite often--reaches up to touch the orb, perhaps because it flares with pain, like an old wound is wont to do:

(gif by @bladeofavernus)

from the last conversation we have with gale, and after catching all of these little moments of things he says or does with how the orb affects him, we learn that consuming the magic from artefacts no longer has any effect at all. the only solution that tara and he were able to find no longer works:

it would scare him and imbalance him, and it would finally destabilise the orb, make it more volatile.

but what happens in the game after that? the orb becoming volatile enough for the artefacts to no longer have an effect has no consequences at all: you are able to do the tiefling party, all quests in the underdark, the entirety of the grymforge, and, should you choose to do so, the entirety of the mountain pass and rosymorn monastery without an incident at all or any mention of the condition itself/any discomfort or fear it might cause.

there's no urgency here, no follow-up, to what the narrative set up... and then we meet deus ex elminster and the orb is stabilised, and the urgency that came before literally is handwaved out of existence.

what i would have liked instead to happen--or at least to bridge the gap between the artefacts no longer working and elminster stabilising it to be used on mystra's behalf--is the following:

i think it would have been nice to have a scene with gale where we do get to see--on a much smaller scale--him losing control over the orb, have the protag and the companions see what he is trying desperately to keep contained within himself, what gnaws at him, what continues to haunt him.

it could happen perhaps after a particular gruelling and intense fight--and there are enough of that in the underdark and at the mountain pass. it could have been a ! conversation, providing both friendship and romance content.

have the orb act up after expending so much energy to manipulate the weave to the fullest of his abilities, have gale manage to reign it in, but barely, show that it takes a lot of power and effort for him to do so.

that it hurts, with none of gale's metaphors to hide behind or jokes to play it off.

have the audience truly see the gravity of what he is going through.

[shroomdreams]

Since we’re in monsterfucker territory, maybe could I request gn reader that’s shorter than character of your choice that teases reader a lot about being small

Turns out reader is a shapeshifter who just doesn’t want to waste energy being tall but decides to show them whose boss in the bed >:)

Characters off the bat that I think could work: Aventurine, Sampo, Scar, Kafka, blackswan, Boothill, jing yuan, Kaeya, Lisa, tartaglia, venti,

Sorry that it’s super obvious I’m not as far into the other two fandoms lol

Love To See You Come Undone

Various Sub!Characters x Dom!Shapeshifter!Reader

a/n: oh buddy YOU ARE IN FOR A TREAT! Let's make this a multi-fandom post >:3 btw because the reader is a shapeshifter they'll be treated as gender neutral, but I'll specify if they're topping/bottoming THE SIZE KINK IS REAL IN THIS ONE GUYS

Sampo (Top!Reader)

Sampo, Sampo, Sampo... Even though he follows an Aeon known for their unpredictability, he never expected this side from you. He had fun teasing you for your height, assigning you an array of height-related nicknames whenever you two interacted

He was loosely aware that there's something beneath that visage you wore, but he figured that you'd be easy enough to figure out. What kind of noises can he get you to make? What faces will you show him? Too bad he's imagining the wrong end of the spectrum

When he got you in bed, you had him lay back while you slipped into something more comfortable... His eyes widened as your form grew to tower over him, caging his now smaller body beneath him. "H-heh, guess you can teach this old dog new tricks?" He weakly says as you smirked down at him

Sampo finds himself desperately clinging onto a pillow for dear life while you ravaged his behind, hips clapping against his ass as your cock rubs his walls, his eyes rolling up as he let out breathy moans. Sure, he wasn't a virgin, but he'd never been fucked like this before! Sampo arches his back when you slowed down, thrusting deep and slow

"Mmmggpphhh- Oohhhhhaaaaaa- OoooooohhhfffffffffUUUUCK!"

The fool cums the same time you do, panting as your seed fills his ass. You lean over and inspect his fucked out expression, his eyes crossed and tongue out. You take a moment to snap a picture for your own pleasure later on

After that, Sampo doesn't view you the same anymore. He still jokes around with you, but he whimpers when you remind him who's really in charge

Kafka (Top!Reader)

You're as short as Silver Wolf, maybe even shorter by a few inches. It doesn't matter as Kafka often kidnaps you to dress you up in various frilly outfits. "It's cause you're a lil' dolly, sweetie~" She teases, fixing the bow in your hair.

Really, you tolerated it for so long, but it got on your nerves whenever Kafka condescends to you. So one day, she receives a brown, paper bag with her name written on it. Inside was a lingerie set in her signature purple. When she confronts you about it, you tilt your head with a smile. "It wouldn't fit me, silly."

Intrigued, Kafka drags you to the bedroom so she can prove it. But to her shock, you were correct. In fact, it seems that the lingerie is specifically fitted for her. Kafka clicks her tongue. "Hm. I didn't realize you had it in you, sweetcheeks."

Kafka decides to indulge you for today, sensually caressing her body, the lingerie perfecting hugging her curvy body. However, when she joined you in bed, she noticed the size disparity between the two of you had been flipped... To a greater degree. You seem to sink into the mattress, her body nearly falling into your chest.

In the blink of an eye, Kafka finds herself with her eyes clothes and your tongue shoved in her mouth, moans swallowed by you as you slid your fingers in her panties. She rocks her hips back and forth on your much bigger fingers, tainting your digits with her arousal

Kafka sighs as you bounce her up and down on your cock, playing with her nipples while your cock kisses her cervix. "Mmmph, ahhhh~ Fuck, harder, dolly." Harder? You'll give her harder. You suddenly wrap your arms around her waist and pull her down with you. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room as your hips thrust up into her tight cunt with wild abandon. "Oh shit- Ohhhh fuck- Ah! Ah! Ohhhhhh fuuuck!"

You fuck her so hard she squirts, her fluids drenching the sheets as you fuck her through her orgasm. Kafka gasps, twitching as you pull out of her, feeling your cum splatter against her ass.

She still calls you her dolly, but now she knows better than to condescend to you these days

Tartaglia (Bottom!Reader)

Ah yes, the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers. You caught his eye when he spotted you training with the bow. He challenged you to a duel, which he won with much difficulty. From then on you became somewhat of an obsession of his.

He thinks you're absolutely adorable when you fight, using your small stature as advantage against taller targets. He likes to joke that the only way you could beat him is in bed. Unfortunately for Childe, his jokes inspired devious things in mind

You've actually had a few sexual encounters with Childe, though he never ventured to the treasure you kept hidden within your undergarments. He figured you must have wanted to wait before doing the deed... So imagine his surprise and excitement when you told him that you want to do it for real.

What he wasn't expecting is your taller stature and your much bigger proportions. His pants suddenly feel much tighter as you pin him to the wall, engaging him in rough kisses. "Hey comrade, how come you- mmh- kept this from me?" He pants, watching you pull down his pants

Childe gasps and groans, leaning his head on the wall as you rode his cock. Your much bigger size meant that his poor legs were constantly being bruised, but he loved it so much. "Aaaaaagh! Hnnng- Coming-" You slammed down on his length, watching him cry out as his cum painted your walls. But it wasn't enough

The Harbinger whimpers, his hands futilely trying to keep your hips up as you bounced on his dick, his thighs sticky from the many orgasms you wrung out from him

The unfortunate side effect is that he's now obsessed with egging you on for another duel with him, this time in your larger form

Scar (Bottom!Reader)

THIS MAN. Hoo boy he's been pestering you non-stop to join the Fractsidus. He claims to have felt the energy RADIATING from you, the potential you have to bloom in the organization is something he salivates over.

He's very touchy, nipping and biting at your ears in an attempt to rile you up. Handsy fellow too, he's very intrigued that a small body like yours attracted him to you. He wants to know just what you are, since he's extremely certain that you're just what the organization needs

Indeed he finds out what you are when you reveal your taller stature to him. In this one, you're actually a human fused with a tacet discord through ambiguous means, but Scar will focus on that later. Right now he finds you stupidly sexy and if he doesn't bone you right then and there he's burning all of Jhinzhou to the ground

His mouth hangs open as he inches his cock deep in your hole, the heavenly warmth you exude makes him act up. Rutting into you like a lil' bunny, he can barely reach your chest, laying his head on your stomach as he growls through his lust. You laugh and pat his head.

"S-See? I knew- mmmmph- I knew you'd be perfect!" Scar says in between pants, his hair sticking to his forehead while sweat dripped down his face. You coo at him, teasing the tacet mark on his neck. He groans, snapping his hips into your warmth and creaming deep inside.

But it didn't stop there. Scar continued to fuck himself into a stupor, your warmth so inviting- Like he bit into a fruit so sweet he wanted to eat more. You laid back and allowed him to rut into your heat. You were supposed to be the one moaning, and yet here Scar was, his mouth slack open as he came again and again

In the end Scar did manage to get you onboard the Fractsidus. You know that one pic of a bunny being obsessed with his giant gf? Thats you two everytime you're seen together.

[bingoboingobongo]

in his eyes

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty) x Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: Gaz swears that there’s something going on between you and Ghost. Soap refuses to believe it until he sees it for himself.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: explicit language, slight Gaz x Reader, i wrote the first draft w/o my glasses in the dark while listening to airplane sounds so forgive any typos

A/N: nothing is more humbling than hungrily fishing for pickles with chopsticks. also yes i wrote this instead of part three of awuass. anyways, likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated, enjoyyy :)

“Soap! Wait up, man,” Soap heard from behind him. He stopped walking and turned to see Gaz chasing behind him.

“You need something, mate?” Soap asked, confused. It wasn’t that he and Gaz weren’t close or anything — they were — but he had never seen Gaz so desperate to talk to him. He waited for Gaz to arrive, shooting him a concerned look when he had to stop and catch his breath, which Gaz just waved off. “Where were you coming from that’s got you all out of breath like this?” he asked.

“The training room,” Gaz said, taking another deep breath. “I sprinted here just to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?” Soap was confused, he couldn’t think of a situation that was urgent enough for Gaz to come chasing after him, but not urgent enough for Price or one of the higher-ups to find him.

“You know Stick?” Gaz asked, one of his eyebrows cocked upwards. Soap was even more confused, of course he knew. You were Stick. You had gotten the nickname after you kept asking the guys to look for chapstick while they were on missions. Apparently you had lost the one you packed when you first arrived on base, and since then you had always been on the lookout for it. Soap had been the first one to call you it, although he called you Chapstick at first. Somewhere down the line though, it had been shortened to Stick and no one really questioned it.

“Yeah, what about her?” Soap asked.

“I just saw her and the lieutenant down at the training room, they were sparring together.”

“You mean Ghost?

Gaz nodded, which only left Soap more confused. Perhaps it was a little odd for you to be sparring with the lieutenant, given the general height and size disparity, but it wasn’t completely out of the question, and certainly not important enough to warrant such an extreme reaction from Gaz.

“Is that it? They were training together?”

“Of course not,” Gaz said, as if it were obvious, “I’m pretty sure there’s something going on between them. He was acting so weird around her, I’m telling you.”

Soap’s interest was piqued. “You mean you think they’re hooking up?”

“I don’t know about hooking up but there’s definitely something there, you can tell just looking at them.”

Soap hummed. You and Ghost, huh? On the surface, it wasn’t an absurd conclusion for Gaz to come to, the two of you did hang out together a lot, which held a lot of weight considering the kind of man Ghost was. But thinking about Ghost blushing over some school-boy crush on a girl just seemed insane. He was a 6’4 killing machine with more deaths under his belt than Soap could count; Soap just couldn’t see it.

“You’re reading into things, pal,” he said, punching Gaz lightly on the shoulder, “you really think Ghost’s got a crush on Stick?”

Gaz rolled his eyes, “I’m telling you man, there’s something there, for real. He was like a whole different person today while they were sparring. I swear to God he looked at her like she was the bloody Queen of England.”

“You think Ghost’s in love with the Queen of England?” Soap asked, smirking.

“Oh, fuck off,” Gaz said, rolling his eyes. “You know what I mean. There’s something there, I’m pretty sure I saw him smile at her for a moment.”

“He took off his mask?” Soap asked, surprised.

“Of course not, you idiot.”

“Then how could you see if he smiled, genius?”

“I saw his mask shift.”

“You saw his mask— Are you messing with me?”

“Oh fuck you, Soap. You know what I mean. It was in his eyes too, like, he looked at her like he was in love.”

Soap snorted, that idea was even more insane than Ghost blushing. “Alright, good one, Gaz. You got me.”

Gaz sighed, “I’m serious mate, I swear. Tonight, at dinner, I’ll show you. Just watch him, see how he looks at her, there’s no way he doesn’t like her.”

Soap rolled his eyes and began to walk away, “Whatever you say, Gaz,” he said nonchalantly. But despite his incredulous behavior, he couldn’t help but wonder if Gaz had a point. He did see Ghost hanging around you a lot, but he had assumed it was just coincidence until now. That being said, coincidences didn’t just happen over and over and over again.

That night, he decided to take Gaz up on his offer. He went to stop by his room before dinner, but before he could say anything Gaz shushed him. 

“Get in, quick. Ghost’s gonna be coming down the hallway any second now,” Gaz explained in a whisper as he tugged Soap into his room.

“You're stalking the lieutenant now, Gaz?” Soap asked.

“Oh piss off,” he said, “he always stops by her room around seven, and then they walk to dinner together. It’s been happening for about a week now.”

“So why’re you only telling me now?”

“Because I figured he was just reminding her of dinner or something. But after today,” he clicked his tongue, “no, there’s definitely something more there.”

Soap watched as Gaz creaked open the door ever so slightly, positioning himself so that he could just barely see out of it. Low and behold, Gaz was right. He heard Ghost walking down the hall before he saw him, but then he was there, just a few feet diagonal from them, knocking at your door.

He watched as you opened it, and said something he couldn’t hear, before closing it again. Ghost stayed outside of your door, leaning his weight against it as he stared down the hallway.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Soap asked. 

Gaz didn't answer, instead choosing to motion wildly at Soap as a signal for him to be quiet.

A few more minutes passed before you opened the door again. You looked surprised to see him there, but your surprise quickly morphed into a smile and the two of you left Soap’s line of sight. Gaz kept watching for a while longer, before shutting the door.

“See that?” Gaz asked.

“Did you hear what they said?” Soap repeated.

“He said something about dinner, and then she said she had to finish something up. I think it was a TV show or something. And then when she opened up the door she asked what he was doing there and that he didn’t need to wait for her.”

“Did he say anything in response?”

Gaz sighed, “I don’t know. I swear I heard him say he was happy to or something along those lines, but his voice is so damn low and his accent doesn’t help.”

Soap nodded slowly, “So he’s been doing this every day for a week now?”

Gaz nodded, “Usually he doesn’t have to wait for her though. They just go straight to dinner.”

Soap paused, staring at the ground for a moment, “Should we follow them? See if we can catch them doing something else?”

Gaz stared at him for a moment, his face thoughtful. “I’ll do you one better, Soap. How about you go up there and pretend to hit on her, eh? And then see how Ghost looks, I swear he’ll probably beat you up.”

“Why do I have to do it?” Soap asked.

“Because I’m not trying to get on Ghost’s bad side.”

“Well, neither am I,” Soap cried.

Gaz sighed, “Fine, I’ll do it. But you owe me for this. And you have to watch Ghost’s face. I’m not about to put my life in danger for nothing.”

Soap nodded, and the two of them made their way out into the hallway. You and Ghost had already exited, but it wasn’t hard to catch up. Gaz motioned for Soap to be quiet, and he watched as Gaz crept up behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump up in surprise.

He watched Ghost turn and glare at Gaz, and he could swear he could feel Ghost’s glower from a mile away. Soap ran to catch up to the three of you, just in time to hear you jokingly berate Gaz for scaring you.

“I swear to god, Kyle, if you didn’t have such a pretty face I would slap you right now,” you said, jokingly raising your fist at him. Soap immediately turned to look at Ghost, who’s eyes looked like they could probably kill. Soap took the chance to run ahead of you three, facing you guys as you walked down the hall together.

“Woah there, Stick,” Soap said, placing his hands out in front of him in fake concern, “we can’t have you threatening Gaz here, can we? I’d have to snitch on you to Price for that.”

“Oh screw you, Soap,” you said, laughing. Soap didn’t miss the way Gaz had managed to wedge himself in between you and Ghost, and he also didn’t miss the murderous glare Ghost was shooting towards Gaz.

“You guys going to dinner?” Soap asked, eyeing Gaz warily as he not-so-subtly put an arm around your shoulder.

“What is this? What are you doing, Gaz?” you snorted, holding up the hand that was wrapped around your shoulder.

Gaz opened his mouth to answer, but Ghost beat him to the chase. “She’s right, sergeant,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “Get your hands off her, just because we’re off duty doesn’t mean you can just forget about the rules.”

Gaz clicked his tongue and nodded, slowly snaking his hand off of you. Soap didn’t miss the told-you-so look Gaz shot him as they made eye contact. 

You laughed again, “It’s alright, Ghost, he was just playing around. It's all in good fun, right Gaz?”

“You know it, Stick.”

Ghost’s eyes flickered between you and Gaz. Gaz had been right, Ghost was different when you were involved. Before, reading Ghost had been harder than reading a text in a different language, but now he was an open book. Soap could see every emotion behind Ghost’s eyes, anger, annoyance, betrayal?

“Besides,” you said, looking at Ghost, “you’re still my favorite.”

And there it was. The ‘something’ Gaz wouldn’t stop talking about. Love, with an undertone of adoration and maybe a hint of disbelief. Soap was shocked. There really was something between you and the lieutenant.

“Alright, you lovebirds,” Soap said, curious to see how Ghost would respond. He acted how he thought he would, his eyes snapping off of you and onto Soap, and maybe, just maybe Soap could see the slightest hint of blush on the edge of his exposed skin at being caught. “Are you guys going to dinner or not?”

You turned to look at him, a bright smile on your face as you nodded. “You?”

“Of course,” Soap said, “you guys sitting with us still?”

He watched as you turned to look at Ghost, who also turned to look at you. Somehow, the two of you managed to exchange some sort of silent conversation, because when you looked back you gave him a sheepish smile and said, “We’ll see.”

Soap watched you carefully, “Right then," he said, “come on Gaz, let’s go while the food’s still warm.”

He pulled Gaz out from between the two of you and the pair headed towards the dining hall, moving as fast as possible to try and get far enough away that they could talk about what had just happened.

“God, I guess you were right, Gaz,” Soap said, as they entered the hall.

Gaz clicked his tongue, “I told you so. I guess all it took was me risking my life to convince you.”

Soap chuckled, “You were gutsy back there, you know? God, if you saw the way he was looking at you? You better be glad he wasn’t armed or he probably would’ve shot you right then and there.”

Gaz snorted, “Oh I saw how he was looking at me, scared the shit out of me too. You know, they should give me a medal for that level of bravery.”

“I'll say.”

He followed Gaz as they went to go get a plate of food, before finding a table near the center of the room to sit down at. “You think they’ll come eat with us?” Gaz asked.

“Why wouldn’t they? They always eat with us,” Soap said.

Gaz hummed, “Could you see how stiff he got when I was standing in between them?” 

Soap laughed again, “Of course, I did. And when he yelled at you for putting your arm around her?”

Gaz snorted, picking at the food on his plate, “Oh god, you don’t know how fast my heart was racing when I did that. I was preparing my last will and testament and everything.”

Soap doubled over in laughter, but stopped quickly when Gaz tapped his shoulder repeatedly and hurriedly whispered for him to be quiet. He looked up, his eyes swiveling around before they landed on you and Ghost. He watched as you made eye contact with him; he let out a wave which you returned before moving towards the food. As always, Ghost was right behind you, but Soap could’ve sworn he was following a little more closely than usual.

“Is it just me or is he standing really close to her?” he asked Gaz, lowering his voice so they couldn’t be heard over the dining hall chatter.

Gaz shook his head as he pretended to toy with his food, “No, he’s definitely closer. Look at them, they’re practically touching hips.”

Soap watched out of the corner of his eye as you two finished getting your food. He saw you look over at Ghost and then nod your head in their direction, before you rolled your eyes with a smirk and went to follow Ghost to a small table in the opposite corner of the room.

“Did you see that?” Soap asked Gaz, his eyes flicking between him and you.

“I did, now stop staring before you get us all in trouble,” Gaz said, keeping his eyes focused on his plate. 

“Why do you think they’re sitting alone?” Soap asked.

“Why do you think? Ghost probably thinks I actually fancy Stick and now he’s trying to keep her away so she’ll pick him.”

Soap hummed thoughtfully, “I think you’ve actually got a point there, Gaz.”

“Damn right I do.”

“Do you actually though?” Soap asked.

“Do I what? Have a point?”

“No, do you actually fancy Stick?”

Gaz stopped to think as he took a bite of his food, “I mean,” he said, swallowing. “She’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, and I’d probably try and at least ask her out under different circumstances—”

“But?”

“But if there's something going on between her and L.T. I’m not going to be the idiot that tries to get between them.”

“Really?” Soap asked, “what if there’s nothing actually between them?”

Gaz snorted, “Are you serious mate? After all this? I risked my life just to prove it to you and you’re still doubting me?” He shook his head. “There’s definitely something going on between them, get your head out of your ass. And — and maybe this is a controversial opinion — but I would like to return to my family when this is all done. I don’t have a death wish.”

Soap chuckled, tilting his head in agreement.

“Besides,” he said, gesturing for Soap to look at them again. He did, and through the mess of heads he could see Ghost cut off a piece of his food and feed it to you, a strangely domestic scene that went against everything he thought he knew about the cold lieutenant. “They’re kind of made for each other, eh?”

“Who’s made for each other?” asked Price, sitting down next to them with a groan.

“Sir,” Gaz said, stiffening, “didn’t realize you were listening.”

“It’s my job to listen, Garrick. Now answer the question.”

Gaz sighed, nodding his head towards your direction.

Price let out a sigh. “So you guys finally caught on, eh?”

“You knew about this?” Soap asked, turning to face Price.

“It’s not hard to notice.”

“Are they…” Soap paused, nodding his head suggestively.

“What? Dating?” Price asked.

“Sure.”

“Now that, I don’t know. I don’t think so though.”

“Do you think she likes him?” Gaz asked.

Price clicked his tongue, “Most likely.”

“Do you think he likes her?” Gaz asked.

“Most definitely,” Price said, snorting.

“Do you think he knows she likes him?” Soap asked.

Price chuckled, “MacTavish, I don’t think he even knows that he likes her.”

That comment earned a round of laughs from the three of them. But despite Price changing the topic, Soap couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you and Ghost. It was such a strange scene to see, you and him tucked away in a private table in your own little corner. He watched the way your eyes crinkled with laughter as you spoke; the way Ghost would interrupt you every so often with a piece of neatly cut food on his fork for you to eat it.

He could practically see the adoration oozing out of Ghost every time you rolled your eyes and took a bite; the way you practically stared at him with hearts in your eyes whenever he would ever so slightly lift his mask to take a bite of food. And for a moment, just for a moment, he swore he saw the corner of Ghost’s mouth twitch into a smile at something you said before he lowered his mask again. But even with his mouth covered, Soap realized Gaz had been right once more. Soap could see the smile in Ghost’s eyes. Soap could see everything in Ghost’s eyes, every single drop of love and reverence and adoration he had for you.

[bylrlve]

Warning! Spoilers for Stranger Things 5 mentioned,

Rewatching episode 2, and I’m genuinely staggered by how many times Mike peeks at Will. It’s very clear his mind is on Will, in fact. I am also staggered by just how many small byler details are in here.

His whole face drops after no. 4 too, as @starbylers observed here.

I also want to include these @chirpsythismorning gifs from the roller rink scene, as they’re brilliant:

Mike watching Will get out of the van, and seemingly offering a hand to him.

Mike openly watching Will as they take their skates.

(X) (X)

These are very deliberate acting choices from Finn Wolfhard, and he was certainly doing it on instruction.

Some other notes on 402:

The transition from Mike and El being fake -> Murray looking up looking like he’s experiencing his Seeing Clearly -> Robin talking about Vickie laughing ‘and not like a cheap, fake laugh, but a real, genuine laugh’, right after we saw Mike hiding his genuine disgust at burritos for breakfast behind a tone of fake laughter.

Mike’s whole face just drops into an unhappy, spaced-out espression when it zooms in on El - this is after Will ignored his sock joke (video here by @buckybxarnes)

As many have observed, Mike and El look genuinely miserable when viewed from Angela’s perspective, as opposed to the shot of them skating with Will miserable behind them

It’s occurred to me that in s2, 3, and 4, the byler plot really takes off in episode 2. I’m wondering if that’s also the case with s5 - I’ve reconsidered my theory that the Mike + El rooftop scene takes place after the hospital plot in ep 2, as I’ve heard that the paparazzi at the filming site were told it was in episode 1.

The door slam/open transition between Joyce going to the bank to get the 40k random for Hopper, utterly singleminded, and Mike barging into the womens’ bathroom, being kicked out, and subsequently starting an argy-bargy with Will as opposed to continuing to prioritise El… well!

The disparity in time is so interesting. El counts off 185 days since she last saw Mike - which is roughly six months, as is canon within the show (Sept-Oct 1985-March 1986). And here Mike is, saying ‘you knew she was having trouble for, like, a year’ and Will saying ‘it’s been a year, Mike’ and, in 404, Mike saying ‘the last year has been weird.’ It’s pretty obvious the last one is Mike referring to their fight nine months earlier, plus the time prior that Mike had spent pulling away from the rest of the Party to focus on El. The second one is Will potentially referencing the time that elapsed since their fight - even if it’s moreso subtext from the writers. What, then, to make of Mike saying Will knew El was having trouble for, like, a year? What subtext could be meant by this? I’d love to hear your guys’ thoughts because u can’t quite deduce this.

Mike listing off everything Will did is so hilarious given the surveillance he carried out all day on the boy, and given the fact that poor El being humiliated publicly and assaulted with liquid before she skated off bawling did not, apparently, ruin the day. On second thoughts, I understand what Will meant… she’s in trouble having Mike’s gay ass for a boyfriend.

What’s striking me now is that this fight + El’s iconic roller skate moment, are the real emotional climaxes of this episode’s M/E/W plot. It could have been Mike finding El and comforting her before she lashed out at Angela. It could have been him talking to her afterwards. It could have been at the house - him following her up to her room and silently comforting her until she fell asleep. No, no. Mike and Will airing out their grievances (and Mike betraying which of the two truly emotionally affects him more) + El handling her own shit, while Mike thoroughly disapproves.

The way that Will just wants to be Mike’s friend, but it’s Mike making it so deeply weird.

The way, also, that they stick together at the rink even after the fight, and Mike openly is more preoccupied by Will in the van. I’ve seen it observed before: the parallel between El and Will staring out the same window in the van crying: Mike looks at Will in the shot. He does not look at El in the shot.

I think it’s hilarious that Mike ends the fight by feigning concern for El - he offered her no comfort whatsoever, actively stood away from her when she was waiting for Jonathan and Argyle to arrive, ignored her crying in the van, and of course:

She didn’t look fine.

Mike and Will are blocked together, not Mike and El

The sincerity of Mike’s concern over El juxtaposed with the rank falseness of ‘no, that’s…that’s not true, maybe I was a little upset in the moment’ etc really sticks out - the defensiveness is reminiscent of the tone he took with Will during the fight, but even then he was more sincere-sounding because he was more emotionally affected.

Bylers don’t talk enough about the insanity of ‘who… who said that I didn’t?’ In context, thinking logically, Mike is very likely referring to Will here (the bullies were shouting at her, he could hear what they were saying)- and why would his mind immediately go to ‘Will thinks I don’t love El, and has told her his suspicions?’ Why would he take a defensive tone?

Seriously, 402-403 M/W/E may well be the plot that (potentially) spells out byler endgame the most.

[wreckingtickles]

Only Uke Are Ticklish?!

Sasaki and Miyano relax in the former's dorm room, cuddling and reading a manga together... until the manga gives Sasaki a devious idea.

Though I'd write for a series I actually like for once! It's not sexy, but I hope it's cute. Might also write something for Hirano and Kagiura at some point, I already know their top spots (Hirano's thighs being ticklish is canon if it's not a mistranslation).

Characters: switches Sasaki & Miyano (hey, that's the title of the series!"

Words: 1,789

“Hey Miya~”

“Mh?” asked the brunette, feeling Sasaki’s chest vibrate behind him but too engrossed with the manga he was holding up so the both of them could read it to do anything but hum interrogatively.

“Will you read it to me?”

He was lying on his bed with his back resting against the wall, his arms draped around Miyano’s shoulders. The younger boy was lying against him, sprawled between Sasaki’s legs with his nape resting on his boyfriend’s chest.

Sasaki had never felt so quietly content. The small frame in his arms on a lazy Sunday afternoon, the comfortable silence, partaking in the interest that had brought them together. If he wanted to, he could crane his neck a little and kiss the soft black hair. But why would he move at all, when that moment of stillness was perfect?

The only danger was drifting off, and Sasaki soon stopped resisting the sweet pull as he couldn’t imagine a better sleeping arrangement. But as he closed his eyes, he found himself wanting to hear Miyano’s voice, the loss of one sense requiring compensation from another.

“I’m, uh, not a great actor,” objected the brunette, though his dramatic skills were the least of his worries. That was BL they were reading! How was he supposed to read it out loud with a straight face?!

“Who knows more about BL than you? I just want to hear your voooice~”

“…”

“…”

“…Just hold on a little longer. We’re almost out of the woods. ‘I can feel his embrace tighten around my chest. I know every time the hooves hit the ground, his wound pulsates with unbearable pain. I can feel it through him.’ I’ll keep you safe.”

Sasaki hummed contentedly. As shy as Miyano could be at times, he never let that stifle his passion, and his enthusiasm was infectious. While his boyfriend – his boyfriend! – grew more and more confident with the dramatic reading, Sasaki let the corny words lull him to sleep, until…

“S-Stop it!”

The upperclassman resurfaced from the border of unconsciousness. That awkward line read felt exceptionally genuine.

“Please? Fine, just stop it! Oh, is someone ticklish?”

Miyano paused. Was he supposed to read speech balloons that were just laughter? “Sasaki?” he whispered tentatively. Had he dozed off?

And then he felt Sasaki’s fingers flutter against his sides. “Ah!” squeaked Miyano. “S-Sasaki! Dohon’t!”

“Mh, I think I will, Miya~” teased Sasaki, trapping the brunette against his body and happily carrying on with the tickling.

“Ah! S-Sasahaki stahap!” protested Miyano, squirming and trying to propel himself forward and out of his boyfriend’s reach, but the much stronger upperclassman easily pulled him back into his grasp without even needing to stop the tickling, using his legs to pin down the chucklebug’s.

The brunette wasn’t going anywhere. Which allowed Sasaki to slip his hands under his top to get at the bare skin underneath.

“Ha! C-Cohome ohon, d-dohon’t!”

Miyano grabbed at the tormenting hands, but there was nothing he could do to stop them, Sasaki was strong enough to easily slip through his grasp and latch onto his defenseless sides again.

The brunette was flabbergasted. Sasaki rarely made a show of overpowering him, except to pick him up when he was “too cute to walk.” But the physical disparity was being made painfully obvious, and as Miyano fought against the giggling fit that threatened to overtake him, a single thought burned in his mind.

He’s tickling me! Does that… make me the uke?!

Sasaki really didn’t know where that urge to see Miyano in hysterics had come from, but he was going to indulge it. The brunette was too serious for his own good! If anything, the upperclassman was a little disappointed that the reaction he was getting wasn’t more intense. So…

“Brace yourself, Miya~” he cooed as his hands began to roam everywhere under Miyano’s forest green top, hitting his ribs, even his armpits; but the only other spot that produced those adorable squeaking giggles was his belly, prompting Sasaki to spider the fingers of one hand over the soft skin while the other went on squeezing the brunette’s side. Don’t fix it if it’s not broken.

The happy giggles that spilled out of Miyano, a response he couldn’t avoid, only cemented his fate, as Sasaki had not got his fix of adorableness yet – the more he got, the more he wanted. So he got even bolder and lifted himself and Miyano to a sitting position before letting his weight drop on his partner, who’d managed to turn around, trapping him between the mattress and his own body.

Sasaki found himself staring at the brunette’s flushed face, and felt a rush of his own. He’s so cute.

Miyano could only look up, partially straddled by his boyfriend, watching enraptured as gravity pulled the dyed locks down toward him, as if they were channeling his gaze. Did he just… kabedon me? On a bed? Does that mean…

Sasaki’s arms at either side of him were impassable, but not forceful. He couldn’t look away from the upperclassman’s eyes, his lips, his neck, the undone button of his shirt…

Was it about to happen? It felt so sudden! But right… but scary? Exciting…

“S-Sasaki…” he stammered. “I…” He felt the long fingers peel up his shirt, exposing his waistband…

And then Sasaki gripped Miyano’s wrists right before blowing a massive raspberry on his stomach.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKK!!!” screeched the brunette, from shock as much as from ticklishness.

“That’s a cute sound, Miya,” teased Sasaki before blowing a second raspberry right in his bellybutton.

“EEEEeeeeEEEE!!! StaahaHAP!! IHIHIt’s soho embaharASSIHIHIhihng!!!”

“You’re even cuter when you laugh,” said Sasaki before going in for thirds, and fourths, and Miyano realized that he wasn’t going anywhere, not until his boyfriend took pity on him.

“EEEEhehehehehehahahAHAHAHAHahahahaha!!”

But he could feel it again. That sting. That inner provocation.

“HAHAHehehe!! IIIHIHI’mm!!! NohohoHOHOHOTTT!!”

The sweet-tasting lips vibrated into the soft skin of his belly again, unleashing another ticklish shock on his system, but Sasaki had gotten too complacent, having released one of Miyano’s arms to move his top out of the way…

“…thehehe UHUHUHUKEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” screamed the brunette right before jabbing his fingers into Sasaki’s wide-open armpit and wiggling them around for dear life.

Sasaki’s raspberry fizzled into a snort as he reflexively rolled away from the sensation, instantly freeing Miyano.

The two exchanged a surprised glance, the intensity of the upperclassman’s reaction taking both aback; and for once, the brunette’s smaller size gave him the edge as, propelled by sheer survival instinct and embarrassment, he threw himself at his boyfriend, savagely attacking the weak spot he’d found.

“M-Miya whahahahIHIHIHITTT!!”

Surprised by the turning tables, and not hating the weird way in which Miyano’s passionate nature had surfaced, Sasaki made the tactical mistake of lowering his arms, only succeeding at trapping them in his sensitive underarms, instead of pushing the shortcake off.

And Miyano capitalized, seizing Sasaki’s wrists and pushing as hard as he could to lift them over the upperclassman’s head. As luck would have it, the latter bucked just in time to send him tumbling forward, so Miyano found himself sitting on Sasaki’s forearms, and it was finally his turn to look down at his trapped boyfriend.

“Miya…” stuttered Sasaki, an uncertain request that he couldn’t articulate.

“ATTACK!” yelled the brunette before spidering his fingers in both wide-open armpits. He was never going to wrestle Sasaki into submission like that again, he had to make it count!

“MiyahahahahHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Sasaki wasn’t one to hold back his reactions, but as soon as the boisterous laughter spilled out of him, louder and jollier than Miyano’s, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it.

“OHOHO WOHOHOHW!!! THAHAHAHAT REAHAHAHALLY TIHIHICKLEEHEEHHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!”

It was the brunette’s turn to gloat. “You’re more ticklish than I am, senpai,” he said as he picked up the pace, eliciting higher-pitched squawks from his boyfriend.

Sasaki wiggled like a worm on a hook, kicked at empty hair, his red-clad heels slamming on the mattress, but he just couldn’t escape! He wanted to tease the brunette, or just tell him how cute he looked all earnest like that, but that was if he’d been able to float out of his body, because the sensation was a lot harder to handle than he thought!

“OHOHOKAAHAHAHAHY!!! THAHAHAHT’S EHEHEHENOOOHOOOHUHHUGHH!!”

“I don’t think so,” retorted Miyano as he dipped into a pool of deviousness he didn’t think he had, before going for the kill: his fingers crawled up Sasaki’s short sleeves to get at the bare flesh underneath, the final piece of his payoff.

Sasaki snorted as the tickling got even worse, wiggling side to side pointlessly and bucking as the short fingernails wreaked havoc on his vulnerable underarms.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! MIIIYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHA!!!”

“You’re so cute when you laugh, senpai,” teased the brunette without slowing down the assault, even experimenting with digging in with his thumbs and massaging the hollows.

That also worked.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! OHOHOKAHAHAHT OHOHOKAAHAHHAYYY!!!”

Sasaki wasn’t used to being physically overpowered by Miyano, and in any other circumstances, he would have been into it; but he really just needed the tickling to stop.

“I think I’m almost done,” claimed the brunette as he went on alternating the two methods for a few more seconds, before finally, finally slowing to a stop. But his fingertips didn’t leave their position as Sasaki tried to steady his breathing.

“If I let you go, you’re not going to tickle me again, are you?”

The threat was obvious, and even though Sasaki’s mouth was already warped into a smile, the brunette recognized his impish grin in his tone. “Nohot today.”

Miyano pouted and curled his fingers, relishing in the alarm that registered on Sasaki’s features, but after a moment, he shifted to the side and allowed Sasaki to sit up.

“I don’t want you to hurt your arms or shoulders,” he mumbled.

“Much appreciated,” chuckled Sasaki, waving his elbows a bit as he tried to rub away the phantom tickles. “Did I take it too far?”

Miyano blushed. “No. You just… startled me, is all.”

“Yeah. Sorry,” said Sasaki. “I didn’t hate it, but it tickled a lot.”

He didn’t hate it? “I… see.”

“Wanna get back to the manga?”

“No funny business?”

“No funny business,” promised Sasaki. “Unless you ask.”

“Sa-!”

“Kidding, kidding. Come on.”

He resumed his original position, and Miyano glared at him for a moment, trying to divine his intent, before allowing himself to relax into his arms again.

“I’m not readying to you, though.”

“Oh, why?”

“You know what you did.”

Sasaki chuckled, and the brunette’s nervousness melted away as he felt the sound rumble into his boyfriend’s chest behind him.

“I do,” hummed Sasaki before draping his arms around Miyano once more and closing his eyes.

[space-noods]

Childhood Friend Eren x Reader, modern AU

childhood friend Eren who was a rather dull and listless kid.

childhood friend Eren whose only friends are his step-sister and the neighborhood nerd.

childhood friend Eren who had little drive or ambition. While he had some strange attraction to violence when playing with toys, he would find no purpose in playing and move on.

childhood friend Eren whose attention is piqued when he sees the house next door be bought. Armin, Mikasa and him spend the day watching from the window facing the house. There they see an older lady and a very young girl.

childhood friend Eren who is not drawn to you like Armin and Mikasa are. Armin hopes you enjoy reading and the ocean. He also live with his grandparents and feels a kinship to you even before he met you. Mikasa hopes she can finally indulge in her more creative side with you. She hopes having another girl around means someone can empathize with her. Eren doesn’t really care for you. He just hopes you’re not boring.

childhood friend Eren who didn’t meet you until a week later after his mom forced him to bring your grandma a fruit basket. Mikasa was at a martial arts class, so he had to go alone.

childhood friend Eren who is surprised to see his own eyes when you open the door. Not necessarily the color, but rather the jaded apathetic expression you wore. And for the first time, Eren felt a spark.

childhood friend Eren who enters your house with a rather eclectic interior design. Trinkets and crochet projects covering the living room. Through all that, he could see volleyball trophies and awards. You lead him all the way to your backyard and invite him to eat the fruits

“You know three people died here.”

You stared owlishly at him. “Did you kill them or what?”

And a smile forms on his lips. You were just like him.

childhood friend Eren who becomes attached to you immediately. He seeks your attention all the time. Despite your rather apathetic expression, he would drag from location to location. If he wanted to play in the sand pit, he would drag you and force you to play. If he wanted to eat snacks under the slide, he would drag you there too. You two were inseparable. His hand would always gravitate to yours.

childhood friend Eren who grows up glued to your hip. He forces you to be friends with Armin and Mikasa. Though, if he felt you were too close to them, he would drag you away. He would force you into sleepovers for as long as he could. Since your guardian was your grandmother, she wouldn’t monitor you too much. So she had no qualms with you and Eren sleeping in the same bed well into his teens. When Eren’s mom found you two sleeping together, she had told him he had to stop doing that. She essentially banned him from sleeping in the same bed as you. He moved sleepovers to your house instead. Your grandma didn’t mind, and you didn’t mind, so there was no problem right?

childhood friend Eren who does his best to support you in all your games. He would bring you water and often cheer you up.

childhood friend Eren who knew that you were a volleyball prodigy. And while he admired that, it was during your games that he realized that he was missing something. He didn’t know what, but he knew that it had to do something with you.

childhood friend Eren is proven right in his middle school years. This was an important game for you, as it would qualify you for nationals. With the reputation you had, many high schools were scouting you. This could change your future entirely. The more selfish part of Eren hoped that you would fail and follow him to the local high school.

childhood friend Eren who watched as you fight to carry your team. The disparity between your skills and your teammates was obvious. You dedicated so much time and effort into honing your skill. For the other girls, this was a recreational activity. For you, this was your life. So when their lack of training caught up with them in the game, you became frustrated. It was almost painful seeing you thrown your body around trying to reach the ball. If people weren’t wincing everytime you threw yourself, they would have been impressed with how you managed to keep the game going for so long. Eventually, you couldn’t keep up anymore. The ball began to fall more often on your court. You couldn’t reach it fast enough. No one was passing it right. It was all going wrong. Inevitably, you lost. And maybe if you managed to stay calm, you would have still been scouted. If you had taken some deep breathes and smiled away the pain, you probably would have been invited for a campus tour at an elite school. IF. But you didn’t. Instead you lashed out. At the loss of your team, the other team obviously begun to cheer. Your own teammates resigned with their loss and began heading to the benches. Not you. Yo u stayed kneeling on the floor, panting. Your knees bruised and your forearms a bright red. As the cheers died down, the spectators shifted their attention to you, still on the floor. Empathic views shifted to horrified as you started on a loud and angry tirade. You began to yell, pointing each of your teammates out: their flaws, their vices, their weaknesses. It didn’t even stop at them. Littered with curse words, you even insulted your coaches. You were ushered off the court. Eren should have felt angry on your behalf. He should have been embarrassed at your behavior. He should have felt anything other than what he was really feeling. Because what he was feeling was complete. Seeing your passion and anger struck a chord in him. The urge to fight resonated with him. He found his purpose. And it came from you.

childhood friend Eren who ignored Mikasa and Armin as they went to look at you. Instead, he couldn’t take his eyes off from the spot on the floor. The overflowing joy bubbled out of him in a maniacal laughter. He was right. You were just like him

——————————————————————————

Notes:

I know Eren feels a little OOC in this, but it’s largely based on the mini chapters that took place in the modern world. If I remember correctly, Eren was actually a very boring character, almost appearing like a background character. But in one scene, Ymir (the founding) appears to him. And I could go in depth to what it all that means, but to keep it concise I interpreted it as a “Eren isn’t Eren if he doesn’t have the anger he had in the Titan Universe.” Like part of what makes him him is the desire to fight, so when he saw MC ‘fight’ for something, it clicks in him (sorry if this part is kind of confusing. These thoughts have been marinating for a while)

[ceasarslegion]

By the wishes of a few people, here's my advice post about living alone. Keep in mind I'm speaking from the perspective of a canadian urbanite, so this will not apply to absolutely everybody in every kind of culture, economy, living situation, those in rural areas, etc. This also is not assuming wealth disparities are a matter of personal attitude, i KNOW it's complicated. Get back with that shit right now, you know damn well this advice assumes you are able to achieve the financial means to live on your own and is not disparaging anyone who legitimately can't.

Let's cover the basics first.

Source of income:

This seems rather obvious, but your income should be regular and reliably the same or similar on a monthly basis. The most obvious way to achieve this is with a job, and I'm sorry but minimum wage is not going to cut it on your own anymore, which means you're going to have to swallow your pride and accept that you'll likely have to work for some industry or corporation with a dodgy moral record. Get used to it. There is no point in self-flagellation, the world is complicated, just take the 50-60k a year office job, no one actually expects you not to and nobody will hold it against you when the "moral" option is soul-crushing retail. The real world really doesn't give a shit what you have to do to afford a comfortable lifestyle as long as you do what good you can within your abilities, no one in the real world expects you to sacrifice your own wellbeing for a cause.

Salaried positions are your most reliable because you'll always pull the same amount, while hourly pay comes with the ability to pull overtime pay in exchange for more shifts, but if you run out of sick days you'll have to spend the rest of the year taking unpaid time off when you need to call in. Whichever one you choose depends on what's available to you and what's right for you physically and mentally, I can't make that call for you.

You also need a credit card. That is non-negotiable. If you don't have a credit score, you can't sign a lease. Bad credit is better than no credit. We can argue until the cows come home whether or not credit scores are good or bad, but it's just reality that you're going to need one. The good news is it's fairly easy to build credit from no credit: you just have to pay off your credit card in full on time every time. The bad news is it's equally as easy to tank your credit score, you just have to miss one or pay it too late, and it's very hard to build good credit back from bad credit. So don't see it as free money, only spend as much as you can pay back, and if you don't have credit right now, start with small things like lunch and little treats that you immediately pay off.

Looking for a place to live:

Once you have your regular and reliable source of income, you can start looking for your place. There's a few things you should keep in mind:

-Draw up a budget for how much you can spend on rent and bills. That includes all basic living expenses: rent, utilities, food, internet, phone, hygiene. Compare how much you make per month to what you can spend. 1/3 to 1/2 of your salary is a bit more realistic to expect to spend on rent alone nowadays, so work within that range when you apartment hunt. Think of everything when you're budgeting, like how much do you spend on haircuts per month? You probably didn't think of that, because I didn't either at first.

-Apartment buildings with some/all utilities included often have higher base rents. You have to keep in mind that this is so the landlord can balance out the utility bills of the whole building, which are unpredictable expenses and on them to pay every month. If you don't know how to budget yet or don't know how to do so with unpredictable bills, I highly recommend trying to find a place with utilities included so you know EXACTLY how much you'll need to pay every month and can plan in advance

-Older buildings tend to be both cheaper and more likely to have centralized utility systems, which means they have to include it in the price of rent because there's no way to tell who used how much of something. If it's your first place alone, you'll probably be tempted to get the brand new, expensive building down the road, but it won't actually make much of a difference when you move in. You will love it regardless.

-Never ever sign a lease until you've either seen THE unit you're considering, or one of the show units that is exactly the same layout. The last thing you want is to go off online photos only to move in and find out the building has a mold problem. You can arrange personal tours by contacting the building manager or the landlord directly. Phone calls are the best way to do this.

-If you want the unit after seeing it, you know you can afford it, there's nothing funny about the place, apply IMMEDIATELY. Places are usually on the market for a few days before they're snapped up by a new tenant, you have to strike while the iron's hot.

-If you've decided on the place you want and had your application accepted, read the lease carefully before you sign. Many places require tenant insurance that meet specific policy requirements, have registration rules about long-term guests, outline how the parking works, quiet hours, smoking rules, mail, laundry, all the way down to what kind of barbecues are allowed on your deck in the case of mine (I am in a wildfire danger zone, so any types that produce embers are strictly prohibited for fire safety reasons). Ask any question that comes to mind about the lease. Not everything in a lease is some human rights violation just because you don't like landlords, keep in mind you're living in the same building as dozens of other people, so there has to be ground rules established for everyone's sanity.

-Internet is often not considered a utility so you'll have a hard time finding any place that includes it. You can arrange to have your wifi set up in advance of a moving date on a specific time and date, do this right after you sign a lease so you don't forget. They won't charge you until you're actually hooked up to the network.

-If your utilities are NOT included, get those set up in advance too. The main ones are HVAC, water, and electricity. The companies that do this vary depending on where you live and what's available, so shop around online once you've signed your lease and sign up as soon as possible. The last thing you want is to forget this and then move into a dark freezing apartment with no water.

Budgeting:

After your living expenses are covered, you should have a comfortable amount of financial wiggle room leftover. If you wouldn't, the place you're looking at is either too expensive, or you're being overcharged elsewhere. It's completely normal for living expenses to take up most of your budget these days, you're doing just fine in the same boat as everybody else if that's the case, so don't panic yet. If you have absolutely NOTHING leftover though, then you're out of your price range.

You also need to set money aside for fun and saving. Do not forego fun money, your brain will try to kill you with hammers and knives if you never get or do things for yourself. And if you're on your own, you're the only one providing that for yourself now. And a solid building base of savings will only help you in the future, whether you lose your job, have an emergency, or even need a down payment on a house later in life. Don't be a doomer about your circumstances or the socioeconomic and generational cards that were dealt to you, chip away at it a little at a time. And don't fall for social media's insistence that anybody with anything at all is some bourgeois degenerate or that being fortunate enough to be able to have upward mobility makes you some ultra wealthy shithead, working towards a comfortable standard of living for yourself does not make you a rich elite or a bad person. You're working towards the standard we should all live as, not exploiting the poor or being a class traitor. I feel the need to add that last part since we're on the website of "struggling art students in NYC are bourgeois that are just bad with money and having a gaming computer makes you upper middle class." Don't listen to a word any of those people say, I know it comes from a place of very real hurt and pain for them but that doesn't make it grounded in absolute reality for absolutely everybody.

Social needs:

If you're by yourself, there's gonna be a lot more work you have to put in for your social and entertainment needs. I can not stress enough how important it is to give this the time and work it needs, do not neglect this.

Lots of libraries have clubs you can join that will get you out of the house and meeting new people regularly. They're either free or very inexpensive. This is a great place to start.

Take advantage of technology we have now. Hop on discord calls more frequently, make sure you're talking to your friends on the regular and try to make plans as much as you can.

Also, I advise finding lots of things you can do by yourself. You will be spending way more time alone than you ever have before, so find single-person hobbies. Go thrifting, get into knitting, go explore the city, read lots of books, do puzzles, just don't lock yourself inside all day in your free time. Even if you're doing it alone, going out and seeing that the world is bigger than your apartment and your workplace is very good for you.

Misc advice:

You don't need a conventional coffee pot maker. Single serving will suit you just fine.

Cleaning is easier when you have a routine. It doesn't all have to be done on the same day of the week, but having a regular schedule of what gets cleaned when for non-daily chores will help you keep on top of it. And please, god, don't neglect your cleaning and hygiene just because no one lives with you to see it. On that note, spray bottle all purpose cleaners are your best friend for daily spot cleaning and you should deep clean your washroom around every 2 weeks in my experience since that's where you'll be doing most of your personal hygiene. Also make your damn bed, yes you'll just get back into it at the end of the day but having a major part of your space neat and tidy will do wonders for your mental health.

Don't buy the cheap garbage bags. Some things you really do want the expensive shit for.

If you don't have a car, delivery service/rideshare subscriptions ARE worth it and legitimately economical in the long run. I do wanna circle back to square one and say that yes, most of them like prime and uber do have dodgy moral records, but sometimes you just gotta swallow your pride and accept that. Once again, no one in the real world expects you to spend your entire day on public transit looking for toilet paper that isnt 30 dollars a pack or lugging 50 pounds of groceries back on a bus just for a cause. It's not the fault of someone who needs these services for their quality of life that they do the things they do, don't put that responsibility on your or other's shoulders when the fault lies at the top of the corporate ladder.

When you're budgeting for living expenses, expect your income to be at the lowest and your expenses to be at the highest. I expect 2 call ins per month and to need to spend the max amount i have on groceries every time, that way I never fall short and never have to cut into my savings that I've dubbed my "oh shit, I'm broke" money. Your emergency reserve may look tempting to you, but as someone who has been in a position where they had to drain it to nothing in the past because of an unforeseen financial emergency, you REALLY are gonna want that untouched if and when shit hits the fan. Life is unpredictable, prepare to roll with the punches so they don't knock you out.

A few people wanted to be tagged in this, so here you go @lilsnatch and @kisstheashes <3

[carionto]

I like to think the humans ambassador hides black powder weapons around their office instead of Lazer guns or plasma, just walks about with 2 hidden flintlock pistols

You sir or madam or otherwise have given me the biggest grin with that idea, thank you.

(me from after having written it out) I did not know where this idea would take me, stream of consciousness writing will do that.

----------------------

Every delegate of every integrated species aboard a Coalition governing station in their respective segment of the Galaxy receives full accommodations in the form of an isolated embassy structure.

One day, as per a Human custom, the main delegate - Ambassador Glenn York, invited several other delegates on a tour of his embassy. With some hesitation from a few due to their prey-like ancestry and associated cultural background, but ultimately won over by the Human's eager friendliness, they embarked on this little cultural exchange.

It was a little difficult to move about, as each embassy is adapted to suit the environmental preferences of the respective species, and Humans live on a high gravity and dense atmosphere world, so much so in fact, some of the less physically suitable delegates had to put on an exoskeleton, while many others required a breathing apparatus to thin out the poisonous air.

Once we were underway, Glenn showed us that the Humans were diligent in their work - acquiring information from and learning about all the various species within the Coalition, establishing communication lines with the respective counterparts in the disparately varied local government structures, and most importantly continually updating the translation modules.

In addition, we admired their art they had installed along the barren walls. Most, Glenn explained, was done by the delegates and their staff themselves during free time, and it ranged from tiny contraptions painstakingly assembled within a minuscule glass container (we did not realize they could hone their dexterity to such a precise degree!) to large murals covering an entire wall with the most vivid color and shape combinations one could imagine; from the very clear and obvious to impossibly abstract! Though the music they had to turn down - the vibrations of the thick atmosphere were beginning to overload the dampening systems and one of the delegates almost passed out.

Near the end of the tour, Glenn invited us into his office to show off what his "hobby" is:

"The boys and gals I work with are all talented people, but none of them appreciate the kind of craftsmanship I prefer. It's kind of a ancient art form, you see, high maintenance too, very delicate."

He pulls out a pair of ancient looking projectile weapons, at least judging by the shape, but none of us can quite grasp, aside from the trigger, how it operates. We are all silent as he pours some sort of fine grain from a small bag into the upturned tube then drops a small metal ball and proceeds to jam it further in with a cloth and stick.

"I handcrafted these myself. Sure, I could get a printer to do it and it'd be perfect, but perfection just ain't right when it comes to work of the soul, amirite? I find it therapeutic, to mold the shape, heat the iron, cast the shape, smooth the edges, straighten the barrel, carve the grip, roll the bullets, grind the powder... just..."

He lets out a long sigh of relief? satisfaction? euphoria? as he gazes with great affection at the pair of devices in his hands. We feel the urge to end the tour. Like. Right now. But Glenn insists on a demonstration. We hesitantly follow him to a largely empty room below where he sets up a couple of small wooden block on a pedestal. As he points one of the devices and is about to pull the trigger, he stops, looks back at us and says:

"Almost forgot, you'll want to take a few more steps back and turn your dampeners to max."

Heeding his advice, we do so, and after he appears satisfied with our... safety?... he returns his gaze to the wooden block and pulls the trigger.

[cacophony]

We awaken after a short while, the sturdier of our fellow delegates say the rest of us were out for just a few moments, but the ringing reverberation of the shockwave through the Human atmosphere still resonates throughout our bodies. Glenn, worry in his eyes, is apologizing profusely:

"Oh I am so sorry, I didn't think you'd still react so poorly. Is anyone hurt? I even put in less gunpowder than normal, but I guess that's still too potent. I--I'll file an official apology and compensate for any damages I may have caused to any of you. I will take full responsibility for this incident. Please do not think poorly of us as a whole due to the willfulness of one individual, it was never my intention to inflict any injury on anyone."

---Later---

After a thorough medical examination, it was determined that only a few delegates suffered a minor case of shock, which was alleviated rapidly at their respective medical stations. Ambassador Glenn York was reprimanded and sent back to Earth, a replacement will arrive shortly. The one permanent remnant of the incident is the wooden block that was struck by Glenn's pistol - now put on a small display in one of the inner rooms of the Human embassy. The bullet still embedded half-way and the splinters it shot out arranged in a chaotic manner, befitting an explosion, down in front.

[thefourchimes]

the encanto fandom did their due diligence for the warm siblings and gave them mostly nice/good characterization with each other and on their own and i just

don't know what the hell happened when it came to the madrigal sisters i am DYING for good content for them that isn't bashing any of them like pLEASE

heya, sorry for being a bit late answering this, my brain has not been working coherently for the past couple of days

but yes, for real!!! it's really wild how the warm siblings, the ones who unfortunately don't have much content and screen time on them in the movie, are given mostly nice and good characterization, while the cool sisters who have so much screen time and content and backstory to them, are the ones left in the dust and are the ones paying the price that is ooc-ness

like, where is the respect and love for them too?? genuinely want to scream out loud about this (not to say there isn't any respect and love for them, obviously, because there are, but even back then when i wasn't in the fandom and wasn't even familiar with the movie itself, i saw the very obvious attention disparity between the cool family and the warm family, which ofc affected quite a lot of things, like the characterizations for example)

but then again, maybe just as it may seem wild, the fact of screen time could also be the reason as to why the warm siblings have the more or less good characterization in the first place, because the fandom sort of have more freedom to create the characters based on what little is already known from content we have and what they'd personally like about the character

and for the cool sisters, some people either don't like what they saw in the movie (*cough* isa *cough*) or are projected a little too hard on (*cough* mirabel *cough*) or just straight up don't get content in general by the fandom (*cough* luisa *cough*), which led a good portion of the fandom to completely and unfortunately decimate their characters and characterizations

which is. frustrating as hell

AND GOD YES, good content for the madrigal sisters are so hard to find that i am practically on my knees pleading for something that isnt ooc or bashing/hating on them

ngl, im honestly really glad that i joined recently and not during the peak years of the fandom, because i know i wouldn't be surviving back then when the sort of disparity was likely worse 😭

sigh, trying to find good content is so hard and frustrating

i love all of these kids so much, but PLEASE where is the respect for the cool sisters, encanto fandom 😔