#this concept might come up again later but it was too funny to not answer

[llamagoddessofficial]

not sure if its only a one way kinda thing, but would siren!skull accept a rock/pebble in return, like how he got one for reader? i have a rock that looks like megaminds head stashed away somewhere /hj btu yeah i?? spare pretty (cleaned and disinfected just to be safe nshit, cuz of his tank and all) river rock for big skeleton??

[Mc's Siren Development Log. Incident report.]

So. Good news, and bad news.

Good news- today, I discovered something new about deep sea cephalopod sirens, which is exciting! I'm now 99% certain that this specific type of siren (Sirenus Hadocephalopoda Tenebri) uses gift exchange to establish important bonds. Skull always gets so cute and happy when I accept his rock gifts, and I can tell he goes through a lot of effort to find the 'right' rock because he clearly gets deeply conflicted about which rock to give me. There's some kind of rigorous selection process I'm yet unaware of... this morning, he spent five minutes floating in the tank, glaring at two (almost identical) rocks before making his choice as to which he was going to give me.

I saw how much he likes rocks and stones, and I thought I'd get him some new, interesting rocks to examine. I thought he'd like that.

So. The bad news. Apparently, it's one thing to accept HIS rock gifts. It's another thing entirely to be the one offering rocks to him. I gave Skull some cleaned river stones. And... when I did, the way he looked at me...

... I think... I accidentally proposed to Skull?

I think I accidentally just married a siren?

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 46: FAMILY

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Extreme Smut

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

When you arrived at home later that day, you asked Emma to give you some space and, as luck would have it, Nina was Danielle, giving you and Cillian some time alone. 

"Hey babe, how did you go?" he asked as soon as you walked through the door of his apartment, his face etched with concern.

Cillian placed his arms around you gently, pulling you close to his chest. His embrace was warm and inviting, but something inside you hesitated. Even though you longed for affection and solace, this situation required a candid discussion – and one that you desperately wished to avoid.

"Well, I know why I have been getting sick recently," you finally admitted with reluctance, taking a seat on the couch with him.

Cillian furrowed his brow, his blue eyes searching yours for answers. 

"And? Tell me," he said, his voice filled with concern as he noticed your reluctance and, just as he did, you steeled yourself against the wave of pain that threatened to engulf you.

"It turns out that I am pregnant," you uttered these words, knowing they would undoubtedly affect everything in your world, including your future together.

Silence fell upon the room like a dense fog, filling the void where air used to flow freely.

For what felt like hours, neither of you spoke, neither of you moved, your hearts throbbing loudly within your respective chests. The weight of the revelation hung heavily in the air, thickening until it became almost suffocating.

Then, you saw it. Flickering uncertainty shimmered in Cillian's eyes, betraying the fact that he hadn't seen this coming either. It dawned on you that despite all the passionate nights shared between the sheets, he too must be feeling as dumbfounded as you.

"Are you sure?" Cillian questioned you softly, a tremor lacing his tone.

Slowly, you nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the truth and the implications that came along with it. Both of you sat motionless, caught in the vortex of uncertainty swirling around you both.

Finally, breaking the silence, Cillian cleared his throat before speaking again. "But you said that you couldn't fall pregnant after your surgery earlier this year," he pointed out, his voice conveying confusion mixed with disappointment.

You bit your lip, the guilt welling up inside you. There was no use denying it anymore, and besides, you owed him honesty, especially in such matters. Taking a deep breath, you explained the entire incident leading to the conception.

"Before my operation, the doctor assured us that there was very little chance of falling pregnant. I lost one of my fallopian tubes and have a substantial amount of scar tissue on my uterus. The chances were near zero," you recounted, watching as Cillian digested the information, but chuckling slightly, nonetheless.

"Cillian, I don't think that's funny," you snapped, irritated at his cavalier attitude toward something that could fundamentally alter both of your lives.

He quickly looked away, shame evident on his features. "No, sorry. It's just… your choice of words amused me. You said that the chances were 'near zero'..." he explained before taking your hands into his and then there was an awkward pause before you decided to delve deeper into the matter at hand. 

"I made an appointment for a termination procedure," you told him bluntly, hoping that stating it plainly might ease the tension building between you. However, you noticed that instead of reacting negatively or showing anger towards your statement, Cillian remained silent for several moments, contemplating the gravity of your words. Eventually, he spoke.

"What if we kept it?" he proposed, surprising you with his unexpected suggestion. 

Your mouth opened to protest, but he raised his index finger and stopped you mid-sentence.

"Don't say anything yet," he commanded gently. "Just hear me out," he begged and you nooded.

"I know that I said that I do not want any more children and I know that you said that, having a child of your own, was not on your radar, but what are the odds Y/N? Maybe it was fate?" Cillian reasoned earnestly, gazing deeply into your eyes, seeking confirmation of his argument.

"I know you would be amazing as a mother and I can see myself starting a family with you," he then finally said, and his proposal left you speechless because you weren't expecting him to take this turn.

You felt like a rollercoaster ride of conflicting emotions was running wild through your body - shock, happiness, excitement, and dread all melded together. And while you could feel your heart bursting open with love for Cillian, the fear of raising a child amidst his hectic work schedule also loomed large. Yet, his sincerity touched you deeply, making it hard to resist his request.

"You really want me to keep the baby?" you asked tentatively, wanting to ensure that you understood correctly. Cillian smiled reassuringly, a mix of pride and joy spread across his visage.

"Yes Y/N. I know that, realistically, it happened too soon, but I already turned 47 and the chances of you conceiving again when we are ready are far too low, so let's start our family together now," he cupped your face tenderly, looking at you with adoration. "This could be a blessing in disguise," he insisted, adding further conviction to his proposition.

Intrigued, you mulled over his proposal.

Despite your initial resistance due to practical concerns, your feelings began to shift. Deep down, you knew that, if you were to terminate, you might be regretting it later on and, perhaps, this unexpected gift could be an opportunity for growth and a step forward in your relationship. 

The thought resonated strongly with you, and suddenly, it seemed less daunting to consider becoming parents together.

"Fuck, okay. Let's start a family," you agreed to Cillian's plea with resignation, your heart sinking into your belly as you tried to wrap your head around this sudden change of events. The two of you sat silently once more, processing this significant pivot in your lives.

After spending a few minutes in quiet reflection, Cillian pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms securely around your waist. Sensing your turmoil, he whispered softly into your ear, offering words of assurance. "I promise, we will figure this out together," he vowed.

"Tomorrow, I will get in contact with my real estate agent and find us a house, something with a yard, near the beach," he continued, his plan already forming in his mind. Your heart swelled with appreciation for his determination and willingness to adapt. He truly meant what he said about starting a family with you.

There was still a lot to discuss and prepare for, but somehow, in spite of all challenges ahead, a sense of optimism settled comfortably within you. Perhaps this unplanned pregnancy could indeed bring you even closer together. After all, love knows no bounds and obstacles often serve as catalysts for personal growth.

With renewed hope, anticipation blooming within you, you allowed yourself to envision a new path, one where parenthood awaited at the end of it while Cillian nuzzled your hair, sending a surge of affection coursing through your veins.

"You are going to look incredible with my child growing inside you," he murmured, pressing his lips against your neck again more aggressively this time. 

"Really? This actually turns you on?" you chuckled in response to his growing arousal over the fact that you would soon be huge with child. Cillian grinned widely, his lust apparent.

"I suppose it does," he answered sheepishly, a blend of desire and protectiveness flickering behind his deep blue eyes.

You giggled, feeling a familiar heat igniting within your core. Glancing at the clock, you noted how late it had become. Despite your lingering anxiety regarding this major turning point in your life, a twinge of eagerness took hold as you considered indulging in something you knew would become rather rare once you became parents. 

As if reading your thoughts, Cillian rose from the sofa, pulling you up alongside him.

"Come," he said he led you briskly toward the bedroom, his steps measured and confident and, once you were inside, he pulled you into his embrace once more. 

"I love you so much," Cillian whispered into your ear, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. His touch was gentle, caresses light enough to leave only traces of his presence upon your skin, teasing you without fully satisfying the aching need pulsing beneath your surface now. 

"And I love you too," you replied, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw, marveling at the warmth radiating off his skin. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, evoking a memory of the night you met.

After not too long, you felt his erection pressed firmly against your stomach, and you smirked playfully. Cillian's desire for you was undeniable, despite everything else happening in his life.

He kissed you passionately, hungrily, as though trying to convey volumes with just his lips alone. Your hands found their way underneath his clothes, exploring every dip and curve of his physique. Each caress sent electric currents shooting throughout your body, creating sensual tension between the two of you.

The chemistry between you seemed stronger than ever, as if destiny herself had intervened, conspiring to make sure that these two souls would always remain intertwined.

Moving swiftly and gracefully, you slid off your clothes and made your way onto the mattress, allowing Cillian to follow suit. Your bodies meshed perfectly together, fitting seamlessly like pieces of a puzzle. As you lay side by side, Cillian’s palm rested lovingly on your abdomen, gently stroking the sensitive area, eliciting involuntary moans from your lips.

"How far along are you?" Cillian asked curiously, gliding his hands expertly across your body, mapping out every contour with his gentle fingertips. His movements brought forth waves of pleasure, drawing you closer still.

"Eight weeks," you responded truthfully, closing your eyes briefly, savoring the sensation of his deft touch. Inhaling sharply, you breathed out, letting it pass through your entire being.

"God, I can't wait for you to start showing," Cillian uttered breathlessly, his voice hoarse from passionate fervor.

His words stirred another wave of anticipation within you, heightening your awareness of the changes your body was undergoing.

"Really?" you mused, genuinely surprised at his remark. 

"Yes. I reckon you will look incredibly sexy being pregnant," Cillian stated with confidence, his fingers moving rhythmically against your stomach, sparking electrical charges along your exposed flesh. You couldn't help but laugh in agreement, the idea both titillating and flattering.

Cillian leaned in close to whisper seductively, his breath tickling your ears, causing shivers to run down your spine.

"I don't know why, but knowing that you carry my child turns me on," he confessed huskily, his arm tightening possessively around your shoulder, claiming ownership over your womb.

You laughed, amused by his raw honesty but understanding completely.

"Well, you did a good job knocking me up, against all odds," you retorted, giving him a cheeky smile before you reached below his hips to grasp his member, which was beginning to throb intensely. 

"I suppose you can't keep a good man down," Cillian chuckled before a moan escaped his lips, as your hand encircled his length, skillfully manipulating the shape and size of his cock, driving him mad. His groans grew louder, urging you onward, encouraging your ministrations.

"Let me ride you, while I still can," you demanded, biting your lip, a hint of mischief danced in your eyes.

"Please," Cillian simply begged in response as his gaze locked with yours, a mixture of surprise and admiration etched across his features before he rolled onto his back, presenting himself to you.

Your legs straddled him, sitting high above him, leaving no doubt about who was in control. Lowering yourself onto his waiting length, you let out a satisfied sigh, grateful for this brief respite.

Cillian grabbed your hips, holding them steady as you rode him slowly, enjoying the delicious friction of his hardened cock sliding in and out of your wet folds. With each thrust, a sound of satisfaction echoed between the two of you, amplifying the intimacy shared during this fleeting moment.

Cillian watched you closely, drinking in the sight of your passion-filled face and the way your body moved in sync with his own. It seemed almost surreal to him – the reality of making love to you while you were carrying his child.

As if drawn by some invisible force, Cillian wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you closer to him until your skin touched everywhere possible. This simple act drew gasps from both of you, acknowledging the intense connection formed in that single gesture.

"I think your breasts might feel differently soon… they'll grow heavier," Cillian observed, trailing his finger down your bare torso, stopping just short of your full bosom.

"Yes, at which point they will be reserved for our child to use, not you," you mocked playfully, rolling your eyes comically as you bounced up and down on his lap. His grin broadened as his gaze followed your movement, the thrilling spectacle consuming him whole.

"I think that, teaching our child how to share, is a valuable life lesson," Cillian teased, running his fingers through your hair as you continued to ride him.

"I suppose you've got a point there," you conceded playfully, lowering your head to kiss Cillian passionately. 

He returned the favor enthusiastically, devouring your mouth with the same intensity you craved. His tongue danced provocatively against yours, matching your rhythmic pace. Your mutual want for each other escalated rapidly, becoming insatiable, fueling your desire further. 

"I am close," you panted softly, arching your back slightly, desperately seeking release. 

Feeling the powerful tremors coursing through your body, you dug your fingers deeper into Cillian's shoulders, anchoring yourself amidst the unstoppable pull of your climax. 

A mere second later, your orgasm crashed down upon you like a tidal wave, bringing you to your knees, overwhelmed by ecstatic joy.

The world outside ceased to exist as you clung to Cillian, his name escaping your lips in a cry of triumph. His strong arms held you securely, shielding you from the storm raging within.

Slowly, your breath began to even out, the adrenaline subsiding gradually from your system as his speed picked up.

"Fill me with your cum, Cill. Fuck, I want it. Please," you purred, your voice heavy with desire, urging him onward. He obliged, pushing forward one last time, filling you with his essence as your orgasm finally crested. You could hear him calling your name in a low voice as you climbed higher towards the peak, feeling yourself losing control.

It was then, in those moments suspended in time, that you realized just how profoundly you loved him - despite everything that happened. The bond between you transcended mere physical connections, reaching deep into the heart and soul and, just maybe, starting a family with this man was not too bad after all. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter

[charlescoded]

It's been a little while since I last posted some snippets, so here's a few lestappen concepts that might never get finished:

1.) photography

The camera practically launches up into the air and as the guy he just bumped into leaps up to catch it, he practically jumps into Max’s arms on the way down. He lets out an oomph, stumbles back, but manages to steady the two of them before they tumble down to the ground. “Fuck,” He’s going to be black and blue where the guy hit him in the chest with his elbow. “Shit, are you okay?”

The guy lets out a laugh that sounds equal parts stressed and relieved, and nods his head. “Yeah, yeah, totally fine. That was too close…”

Max chuckles, a nervous little sound. “The camera’s fine?”

“It is,” He confirms after inspecting the camera closely. “It still works,” Then he pauses. “You can let me go, also.”

“Oh! Right, sorry.” Max lets go of the guy’s waist, not having realised he was still holding him, and takes a step back. “Wait, Charles?”

The man looks up at him, startled by the sudden exclamation, and seems to realise who he had just collided with. “Max Verstappen?” He almost drops his camera again, and Max can see a flush rise from his chest up his neck and to his face. “Wait, no,” Green eyes look at him in disbelief. “You remember me?”

It’s Max’s turn to blush. “Uhm… Yes?”

Charles stares at him with open mouth. “That was 4 years ago!” 

He clears his throat awkwardly. “I remember, yeah.”

“That is…” He trails off, still unable to believe that Max remembers him. And that’s fair. It’s embarrassing that Max still knows his name, even years later. They’d slept together exactly once, and Max can’t say he remembers the names of every single person he’s gone home with, but… Charles was the only guy he’d ever taken home.

“I guess you left an impression.” He says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. Because he doesn’t know how to explain himself. It’s true, of course, Charles certainly left an impression on him that night, maybe more than Max is willing to share. Is willing to admit.

...

2.) instagram

“I want you to go and follow Charles on instagram.”

Max pauses. “What?”

“You heard me,” Lando pats the hand that’s holding onto his phone. “Well?”

“But why?”

Lando stays silent, expectant, like he thinks Max is just going to do that without a proper explanation. The answer is no, he’s not going to do that without a proper explanation. He has no clue what’s going through Lando’s mind right now.

His shoulders slumps. “Okay, fine,” It didn’t take long for him to break. “People would freak out of if you followed him.” He explains.

“They’d freak out?” Max frowns, before clarifying, “Because I’d follow Charles on instagram?”

“Yes!” His eyes are bright and Max shakes his head at his best friend’s antics. “Come on, mate! It would be really funny, they’d start screaming about how Charles now has to follow you back.”

Max allows himself to smile slightly, both indulgent and amused. “I didn’t even know Charles didn’t follow me.” He says honestly.

Lando sputters, flails as he tries to grab hold of Max’s phone, before landing halfway his lap. Max sighs, shifts so Lando’s in a more comfortable position, and drops his phone into Lando’s greedy hands. The grin he sends Max’s way is worth it. “He unfollowed you,” Lando starts, already opening the app. “After Austria.” He adds.

That… stings a little. He’s not sure what he did to get Charles to unfollow him, but that’s fine, he doesn’t normally care about who follows who on social media anyway. “Of course you would know that.” Max says, focusing back on Lando, fond and exasperation all at once.

“Can I?” Lando asks, thumb hovering over Charles’ page.

Max lets out a questioning hmm?

“Can I click follow.” He clarifies, looking back up at Max. 

From his upside down position, Lando’s eyes look wide and pleading, and Max can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, go for it, mate.” He really doesn’t care. His PR team’s who keeps track of his instagram most of the time anyway.

Lando’s grin is blinding—bordering on mischievous—as he presses his thumb down on the follow button. “Great!” Then, Lando’s stomach growls and just like that, his focus is on something else entirely. “Can we order food? I’m getting kind of hungry.”

Max plucks his phone from Lando’s hands, who makes a noise of protest, but doesn’t actually try to get it back. “Sure, what do you want to get?”

“Can we try that donor place? With the nice sauce?”

He makes a face. “The döner kebab, you mean? With the garlic sauce.”

“Yeah, that one!”

Max sighs. “Yeah, sure, I’ll just have to go run an extra lap tomorrow.”

Lando shrugs. “Sucks to be you.”

He rolls his eyes. Yeah, he definitely indulges Lando too much.

...

3.) collar (toxic lestappen)

“Predestined, don’t make me laugh. Predestined for what? To bring glory to Ferrari?” Max’s fingers slide over his neck, tracing strong muscles as he closes the leather strap. It feels possessive, it feels forbidden. His cheeks go red as blood rushes south. “The only way you can bring glory to anyone is on your knees.”

“I’m not— this isn’t—“ He struggles to put his protest into words.

Max tuts softly, his finger sliding into the metal loop of his collar. “Didn’t I tell you?” His voice is gentle, but Charles can feel the tension of the leather against his skin. “You are, this is.” Max smiles, sharp and remorseless. Mocking. With intent. Charles’ skin heats up in anticipation.

Slowly, Max pulls, and Charles goes down with him. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, his hands trembling as he sinks onto the floor. It’s like his body is moving on its own, following Max’s lead, obeying him. Like Max is his master, and all Charles can do is submit.

His mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton. He knows he doesn’t want this, he knows this isn’t what his future is supposed to be, but… Charles looks away, shame burning in his veins. If this is wrong, why does it feel so right?

...

4.) vampire!charles (tw for blood)

Max’s breath halts in his throat as Charles’ hand cradles his cheek. His touch is cold, his teeth—fangs—flash as he smiles, and there’s blood smeared everywhere. On his lips, dripping down his chin. On his clothing, drenching the fabric. On his skin, now staining Max’s jaw in red. 

His thumb swipes over Max’s lips and paints them red, too. There’s an eager, hungry look in Charles’ eyes. Max knows it’s not for his blood, not when his eyes go dark with the promise of pleasure, rather than the swirl of madness he’s grown accustomed to.

“No longer hungry?” Max asks. It’s a wonder that he can keep his voice steady. He’s not afraid of Charles, he knows he doesn’t have to fear him, but that doesn’t mean he’s comfortable with this, with blood, and death, and the massacres he has to witness.

Yet. He still accepts it. Maybe that makes him a bad person—he knows it does—, but love is a flaw, and Max is willing to bear the punishment if that means loving Charles. He already does.

Charles’ grin widens and he slings his arm around Max’s neck, his bloodied hand leaving a trail down to his chest. To his heart. He’s listening to the beat of it, feeling it, because his hearing is good enough to tell him when Max’s heart is freaking out. “I’m never full, chéri,” He murmurs, darting his tongue over the red of Max’s skin. “You know I want more of you, always.”

[blizzardsuplex]

“like watching art in motion” (an essay on ZSJ and wrestling)

CW: discussions of gatekeeping

I didn’t have internet for over three days, and so in my total boredom I opened up my Microsoft Word and began tinkering with a “casual essay” on my favorite wrestler, Zack Sabre Jr. But I can’t talk about Zack without talking about how I feel about and my experiences with pro wrestling as a whole, so over 3.2k words later, here we are.

(I didn’t mean it to get so long...nor, in truth, get so personal. I’ve been carrying this with me for a long time, though, so I guess it had to come out eventually. Things like that always do.)

Title from a comment I saw on Reddit about Zack in 2016. Content under the cut. Special thanks to @heartsinablender/Izzy, who encouraged me to write and eventually post this in semi-public. :)

~~~~

My absolute earliest memories of professional wrestling are of reading next to my favorite uncle while he watched early to mid-2000s era Smackdown on one of those old, boxy TVs, but my first formative memory related to it is talking to one of my classmates, an enthusiastic prowres fan in the way children can be, on the stands by the soccer field during P.E. I don’t remember how the conversation started, but eventually (as it usually did) it landed on the object of his interest.

“I watch wrestling, sometimes,” I threw out, having at that point probably paid attention to a grand total of less than an hour of WWE. His eyes grew wide, then narrowed.

“Yeah?” he said. “Name ten wrestlers.”

He’d said it in a way that felt final, like he was sure that I wouldn’t be able to answer his challenge. It lit a fire under me, and I said “The Undertaker” as quick as a slap. He was unfazed, however, and all too soon I faltered: “The Great Khali, John Cena, Triple H, Booker T…uh. The Great Khali—“

“You said him twice,” my classmate said smugly. He turned away from me, back to the soccer game.

I don’t remember what I replied to the side of his face or what I did immediately after; it didn’t matter. I’d already failed the test, and no matter how biased its giver was, the fact I’d proven him right sucked.

~~~~

This is an essay about how I feel about the professional wrestler Zack Sabre Jr. This is also, if the above hasn’t clued you in, an essay about my personal history and relationship with professional wrestling. These ideas are not only closely related but intertwined, two vines. As with anything alive, both have their periods of growth and withering, fecundity and barrenness, somewhat independent of each other but in the end—as with any ecosystem—affecting the very same, sometimes in dramatic ways.

But even the strongest vines need something to wrap around if they ever hope to reach the sun. Where did these find their base?—my very body, frail as it is compared to the kinds of people who take up the path of the wrestler. That’s the funny thing about entertainment, I’ve found: the people you watch, whether on stage or in ring or on a screen, seem like invincible titans…as long as you’re watching them. The minute you turn your eyes away, they start to wilt; when you turn your back, they wither. With enough lack of care (in every sense), anyone could tear off the leaves and stems and just leave.

I could leave. I’ve almost left. Certainly I’ve drifted away from it on occasion. But so far I’ve always come back, or maybe more precisely I’ve let those vines wind and wind and wind ‘round me again, and more often than not ZSJ—what he represents to my conception of wrestling—is to blame.

~~~~

After I had tried and failed at the task of naming ten wrestlers, I remember feeling embarrassed. Now—though for a completely different reason—I feel outright ashamed. Now, I know too intimately what eight-year-old me could only barely comprehend: why he had issued that challenge in the first place. I was a girl, and I was an unathletic twig, and I was the most bookish of nerds, and while one or even two of those traits might have been acceptable in a “real fan”…all three of those things? Never. A classic example of gatekeeping—and for a while mentally that one interaction was successful at keeping me out.

But at the time it was “just” embarrassment, and as much as I hate to admit it that feeling followed me even after I began actually watching WWE with my uncle and cousin. Dipping your toes into any new activity or hobby, especially one with the amount of layers pro wrestling does, is daunting enough without the constant fear of somehow being discovered and kicked out of that space before my time, though of course my family wouldn’t do that—or, worse, laughed at, which they might’ve. The fact that my cousin was a year younger than me but, at least at first, knew more than I did didn’t really help: she never gatekept, but how she took every chair shot and dick kick we watched in stride (it was during Christian’s feud with Randy Orton) while I was left scratching my head a bit made me feel, as with my classmate, like a poser.

Well, I didn’t want to be a poser anymore, so I went to that great well of information: the internet. Specifically, I went on TV Tropes (yeah, I know) and read the pages on professional wrestling and WWE; while I was aware that there were other promotions, especially after reading the former—I remember the promotion name Ring of Honor getting a cool! from me—I wasn’t interested in anything but the “basics” at that point. What was a heel, a face, a tweener? What did it mean when someone did a shoot on another? What even was the Attitude Era, and why did people like it so much (a question that to this day I’m not sure I can answer)?

I got those down in a reasonable amount of time. Then, something interesting began to happen: I felt compelled to keep reading more about it. I honestly don’t remember the specifics—which names, memes, and tragedies (always in a WWF/WWE context) my brain absorbed like a sponge. All I know is that, after a couple of months, I ended up quite a bit like a smark. So I did get what I wanted: no longer did I feel like a fake fan, even if it came at the cost of somewhat alienating my cousin (who was beginning to lose interest in wrestling) and my uncle.

That wasn’t the most interesting thing I got out of my wiki walking days, though. Because of my (in truth middling-depth) dive into (a very narrow slice of) the prowres ocean, 12 to 13-year-old me thought I had figured this whole professional wrestling thing out: it was bright, it was flashy, it was written like a soap opera. It was entertaining, sometimes off of sheer cringe-inducing antics and sometimes out of sheer spectacle. What counted as spectacle, meanwhile?—the flippiest of flips, dramatic kickouts, muscled people billed at two whole feet taller than me hollering at each other in the ring. It was violent (but not too much, for the sponsors’ sake) and it was slickly produced and it had the best kind of nonsensical internal logic.

Of course, that is what wrestling is…sometimes. There’s nothing wrong with that, or anything wrong with watching wrestling like that, either. My mistake as a child was putting it in a box, thinking that everything I just said was everything it could and can be. I was lukewarm on the idea of prowres presented more sport-like, didn’t know how it could be entertaining without a writer’s room’s worth of storylines. As for pro wrestling being art, or even just beautiful—those two concepts seemed so far apart that to use the word never even crossed my mind.

~~~~

So stayed my thoughts on it until, when I was maybe 13 or 14, I fell head-first into hipsterdom (in the “wanting to like things before they were cool” sense). It happened with music, it happened with video games, and it happened with wrestling. Though I still watched WWE, I began to look beyond its borders—which is to say I began paying attention to trope examples by wrestlers I wasn’t familiar with. Those entries, along with a few well-placed links to 240p YouTube videos, were how I found my first favorite wrestler…who was, of all people, Chuck Taylor (who I still love, don’t get me wrong).

But wrestling news moves fast—even faster than the editors at early 2010s TV Tropes, and especially those editors who cared about keeping an independent wrestler’s page up to date. I knew that, if I wanted to know more about Chuckie T and his Gentleman’s Club, I would have to look elsewhere.

I found two places: a wrestling forum literally just called Wrestling Forum, and a newish subreddit called /r/squaredcircle. I proceeded to lurk on both, but it was on Reddit a year or so later that I found the post that ended up being the catalyst for my wrestling fandom from that point forward—a mention that Chuck Taylor wrestled at this supposedly really cool promotion called Pro Wrestling Guerrilla during their yearly Battle of Los Angeles, and that the footage of that show was finally out.

I don’t know when I found the time to look for it. When I think back to that Saturday afternoon, navigating with no adblock to a sketchy wrestling stream archive on a desktop already considered ancient, all I remember is how curious I was when—after giving it a couple of minutes to buffer—I finally pressed play.

~~~~

The match, if you want to find it yourself, is the Friends of Low Moral Fiber (Kenny Omega, Chuck Taylor, and Zack Sabre Jr.) versus the Young Bucks and Adam Cole from BOLA 2014 Night 1. Back then, every single one of those names were established or rising players in the independent scene; now, of course, they’ve all been in multiple top-level promotions around the world. For this and several other reasons, I haven’t been able to watch that contest back before, just last year, I found it in its entirety on YouTube. The channel quickly got taken down, but not before I snagged a copy for myself; in fact, I made the effort to get it as soon as I saw it was the real deal. As someone once told me, pro wrestling is one of the most ephemeral of entertainment forms—and also I don’t have the money for both a DVD player and to ship from the US to watch it legitimately.

But I wasn’t thinking about that when I was 14 or 15 years old. At the time, the only person I really knew or cared about in that match was Chuck, and so as the introductions happened I eagerly awaited his time in the ring (even back then, I held the opinion that he was an underrated worker). Instead, his team first fielded the skinny man with the Union Jack jacket, the one who’d gotten right into the other side’s faces. Zack Sabre Jr., I recalled as everyone got into their corners. A cool name, if a little overwrought.

The bell rang. Twenty-four minutes later, I paused the video and spent hours searching that “overwrought” name everywhere, looking for more clips of him, more discussion on him—more of his wrestling.

~~~~

What can I say about Zack Sabre Jr. in the context of wrestling that probably hasn’t already been said a million times? He has an atypical build for a wrestler, especially before his recent bulk up: tall but very lean—or outright skinny if you’re feeling uncharitable. His promo style is one I have seen called “extremely British” and “hilariously unhinged” (which, considering everything happening in the UK, maybe mean the same thing). He has some pretty sick taste in indie entrance themes. And, of course, he is considered one of the best technical wrestlers in the world—maybe of all time, and certainly in this generation.

To me, though, he is (simply, encompassingly) my favorite wrestler, and upon watching that BOLA match back it isn’t necessarily because I was wowed by the smoothness of his technique (though I was) or impressed by his underrated speed (though I was) or even in awe of his flexibility (though I definitely was—and here I shout out Adam Cole for helping make Zack’s first in-ring impression such a memorable one). No; it was because, for the very first time, I realized professional wrestling wasn’t cut and dry, contained within the box I had tried to place it in.

Read what I described my younger self’s conception of prowres to be…or, if you prefer, think back to the height of PG era WWE. To my mind, wrestling was supposed to almost overwhelm, saturate the senses. Wrestling was bright, flashy, melodramatic, violent—loud.

The footage I watched that day was loud, too; even through the shitty speakers and video quality, it was clear that the Reseda faithful knew how to have a good fucking time. But whenever Zack was in the ring, it was quiet—sometimes literally, but I more mean in movement, in intent. He convinced me from the first lock up that he was absolutely focused on how he could twist his body and how he could turn his opponent’s, that he aware of and could manipulate every single joint and muscle and ligament offered to him. He convinced me that it was, at that moment, all he cared about. It was still violence, of course; all his graceful movements were in service of hurting another. But it was an elegant violence, a quiet violence.

Pro wrestling, the profession of machismo and posturing, could be quiet. Who knew? Before I saw Zack wrestle, I didn’t, and nor did I ever consider the logical question to ask after: if it could be quiet—the complete opposite of what I thought it was—what else was it? What else might it become?

Beautiful, maybe?

I didn’t know then and I don’t know now. Whether wrestling is art is a discussion I leave to people with far more time and far more knowledge of aesthetics than I do. What I do know is this: I not only put it in the wrong box, I was wrong to put it in a box. Professional wrestling is no dead thing, no solved problem—it was, and is, alive, and at its best exists as a creative medium with so many possibilities. Sure, we all have our preferences, and prowres has space for loudness, almost deafening; but it has space for the quiet as well.

~~~~

It would be one thing if ZSJ was a flash in the pan, someone who rose in the business just far enough to get a handful of PWG bookings before fizzling out. If that were the case, I suppose I could expound on the point about prowres being ephemeral, say something that would amount to “the world may have moved on from him, but I’ll never forget how he opened my eyes all those years ago”. But that would be both extremely disingenuous and, to be honest, make a worse narrative. That one match made me understand wrestling more; following Zack’s career afterwards made me love it.

A not insignificant part to this is the fact I hitched my cart to a damn good horse—if Zack was good in 2014, he got even better as the years went by. While he was always a joy to see work, once he improved at selling in particular (which I never thought he was horrible at, mind, but watching early tapes back you can tell the difference), his matches went from baseline good to great; who doesn’t enjoy watching ZSJ crumple and ragdoll around the ring these days? Yet another big reason I am genuinely grateful for his wrestling is far beyond him: ZSJ was my passport to the rest of the wrestling world. Through him, I discovered so many promotions, so many other amazing wrestlers. There was PWG, of course—tying Mike Bailey into knots in the finals of a BOLA, making Chris Hero’s finger bleed, going to war with Roderick Strong over the belt. There was him countering Will Ospreay’s top rope move into a triangle choke that one Wrestlemania weekend. It was him who put me on to European wrestling, with WxW and RevPro and everyone else. His fight with Negro Casas was the first time I’d seen a mat-based lucha match. And, of course, without him I wouldn’t have started watching New Japan, and without New Japan I would’ve never seen any of the amazing people that make up the puro and/or joshi scene.

I always, always come back to Zack himself, though, it’s true. And maybe, some might suggest, it’s at least partly out of a mix of nostalgia and novelty—he was the first wrestler I paid attention to that looked different and wrestled different from what I considered the norm. When I’m put in a hyperfocused trance by the quiet of his matches, past and present, perhaps it’s just my subconscious, somehow, paying respect to how he made that young teen feel.

My answer to that is…well, maybe a little. But ZSJ doesn’t coast by on that alone—he is continually improving, continually striving to improve, and I couldn’t be happier that he’s getting his due. And, like with professional wrestling itself, I find happiness in that match from 2014 (almost a decade ago, now!) not only out of a sense of nostalgia, or even its own sake, but because it’s proof of what Zack Sabre Jr. was and has now become.

~~~~

A trio of ZSJ-related anecdotes to round things off:

1.) When I was in late high school, I did a school project on professional wrestling. The local guy I interviewed was honestly pretty gracious, but something he said nagged at me. “Pro wrestling,” he tried to explain to me, even before I said anything about what I watched, “isn’t just like WWE.” I know, I wanted to reply. My favorite wrestler is Zack Sabre Jr. I watch mostly American indies. Why are you assuming that I don’t know that?—but it would have come across indignant, and so I held my tongue.

2.) A few months later, I wrote a post on Facebook on why I liked pro wrestling, inspired by my discovery of Barthes’ essay on it in his Mythologies. My old classmate, the one who gatekept me when we were both eight, saw it—and he not only liked it, not only commented positively on it, but even DMed me. “Who’s your favorite wrestler?” he asked me. “Zack Sabre Jr.,” I said. He then proceeded to approve, saying that he was great in the Cruiserweight Classic; he was then surprised when I said I’d been following his career for a while even before that.

3.) When my older sister and I were in the women’s section of the Tokyo Dome during Wrestle Kingdom 14 Night 1, we ended up sitting next to and chatting with an Australian lady who got into NJPW because of her boyfriend (they both really liked Ospreay). When ZSJ came down to the ring, I heard her say encouragingly to me “that’s your Zack”. I’m not sure if I’d ever say he’s mine, but that was the night, maybe even the moment, that the very beginnings of this essay were born: when I realized how much he’d influenced at least this part of my life. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to jump down fifteen rows of seats and shake his hand, tell him even a little what his performances meant to me.

But that was not the time for that; three years later I still haven’t found the time for it, living where I do. Instead, I ended up, and end up, just sitting in my chair, screaming wordlessly at the top of my lungs, and watching him wrestle.

[masterjacobofficialblog]

Dear fans of Unikitty and subscribers of my blog. The author of the blog is in touch with you and I have big news for you, since it depends on the plot in my AU, and I will also tell you about a couple of works for the near future.

1) I've been dragging my feet with this statement for a long time, but I decided to express it right now – I'm getting rid of the character of Cornelia in my AU.

More than a year has passed since I created her, and earlier I didn't regret that I created her.

Initially, she was conceived as a child of Unikitty and one canon character (that is, yes, I literally "aged" Unikitty for this idea) so that she also had a child from the company of 7 main characters. And it was my mistake: the fact is that no one had ever thought of complaining or writing to me directly before that it was better to change everything and "return the old age" to the princess, which at first was not easy because of Cornie. But later I still noticed that I completely stopped developing the Unikitty × the canon character relationship, and therefore I finally got rid of this peering, but I will clean everything and rewrite chapter 1 of "Santa Frown" by the end of this fall, if not later.

It would seem that the problem was solved, but it was not there: since Cornie was previously the daughter of Unikirty, I had to do something so that I would not be accused of anything, and I decided to turn Cornelia into the third (adopted) sibling of Unikitty and Puppycorn, and it was written well in the end. But over time, realization came to me.

The realization that I seem to be "deliberately ignoring" Unikitty, passing everything to Cornelia, as if I am thereby "killing" Unikitty and just not touching her.

And because of this realization, I made two decisions for myself, one of which I'll choose and completely change everything – either I A) literally kill Unikitty and Cornelia will be "her face", or B) I get rid of Cornelia for the good of my AU. The answer didn't take long to wait for myself and I chose plan B. That's right, I decided to "erase" Cornelia from AU so that she would not overshadow Unikitty and take an active part in various trials and funny stories.

I consider the creation of Princess Cornelia in AU to be my BIGGEST mistake that I did and I'm terribly ashamed that you saw everything I did with her and I want to "clear" my conscience by deleting/editing ALL posts related to Cornie/her relationship with Uni n' Pup.

But, if it weren't for this deliberate innovation, I might never have created my own mascot for my creativity. In other words, she is dead in MJ AU, but I resurrect her as part of her becoming my mascot for my creativity. After all, the design doesn't disappear, does it?

it WAS IMPORTANT for me and for my brainchild, and I do not regret that I made such a difficult choice.

2) On works for the near future – COMICS! Yes, I really want to draw comics and I have a spoiler for you with the participation of Jacob's company!

Also REDESIGNS and stories of Old concepts of both existing characters and wasps for AU. And also the Unikingdom citizens will be affected and only some will have children. I won't spoil it too much, as I have a lot more to tell you.

I hope that after this post my conscience is clear and I will come up with something with all my posts here before I delete them. Thank you for your attention and see you again!

[nimata-beroya]

For the emoji ask game!

🌧️

💧

☔️

🌦️

(PS if you feel like it, can we hear more about Betrothal? 👀)

🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.

Since you ask, @lost-in-derry, (thank you so much for that, btw) let me tell you about the angsty part of The Betrothal. I don't want to spoil too much, but besides being an Order 66 didn't happen AU, this also is an Arranged Marriage AU. Both Kallus' and Zeb's fathers are Senators and arranged their sons' marriage as part of a deal. Kallus is just resigned to it, his father doesn't care if he wants or not, but Zeb hates the idea as soon as he hears it. He warms up to it after spending some time with Kallus. Kallus has reasons not to like or trust Garazeb, and yet, he can't resist his charm.

That's when everything goes south, and I'm not telling you how or why, but they both end up at the hands of slavers (I haven't decided if Zygerrians or some other). Zeb is taken as a slave immediately to be a fighter, but *for reasons*, Kallus is confused as a slave trader. He plays the part until he can figure out how to get Zeb out there. But as if that wasn't enough, Kallus is a veteran of war (and Onderon happened, not for the same reasons, but with the same people and same result), so guess who also happens to be among the fighters (the champion to be defeated)? If you thought Gerrera's Lasat mercenary, you'd be correct.

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure if you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

I already answered it here, but I have so many ideas, that you're in luck. Let me tell you about another fic.

I want to write a fic with Cal Kestis and Merrin after Jedi Survivor where Cal struggles with the Dark Side. The idea is that one day he loses control again like he did in Nova Garon and Katra is present. After he regains control, he senses fear coming from her, so he thinks she's afraid of him. In reality, she's afraid FOR him. She already lived something similar with her dad and that didn't end well, so...

Anyway, it's an excuse to write a moment between Cal and Katra, plus Merrin and Cal being adorable together 😆

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

I've said before, and I'll say it again. I don't write funny, comedy, or crack. I'm bad at it. So this snippet might not be as funny as I think it is. But whatever… It's from The One to Survive.

The high-pitched, mechanical voices of a pair of B1 droids come from the end of the hallway, “Did you hear about Vee-Tee Seven-Six-Four?” one asks.  “Yes, his operative system got corrupted. Started thinking he could use the Force.” Dropper, Clawbird, and Onix share a look. Even when hidden behind his helmet, Onix senses Dropper’s wide eyes. Clawbird’s shoulders shake at the rhythm of their silent laugh. Onix tries to ignore the absurdness of that statement. He has heard nothing more ridiculous in his life. A second later, he’s proved wrong. “Is he going to be a Jedi now? How’s that work?” “It doesn’t. The commander shot him.”

💧Share something romantic/hot from your WIP, or just something sweet if it's gen.

Well, this for Crosshair and my OC Katkris, and it goes under the cut because it's HOT and kinky 😏🔥🥵

TW: anal fingering, praise kink, D/s dynamic

Kat is kneeling on the bed between Crosshair's thighs. He looks so beautiful to her lying in bed, naked. His skin glistens with beads of sweat, and his cock lies on his stomach, hard and flushed. He's the perfect picture of decadence. He has his eyes closed, and his face is pinched with concentration when Kat slowly pushes two fingers into his greedy ass. His body swallows them, offering just a slight resistance as she slides them deeper.  “You’re doing so good, baby. That’s it. Open up for me like the good boy that you are.” The praise provokes a familiar reaction: Crosshair’s ass muscles clench slightly, and he turns his face away into his arm, trying to hide the growing flush in his cheeks. She knows what praises do to him. They are a double-edged blade, eliciting both satisfaction and embarrassment at the same time. It satisfies him because her praises fulfill his great need to feel valued. It’s something that he got satisfied with in the past in the most toxic ways, and it has taken time and effort to unlearn unhealthy behaviors. The embarrassment comes with the difficulty of accepting a compliment, even when deserved. Also, he sees it as a weakness, knowing that he’d do almost anything to get simple praise from her.

[caffeine-and-computers]

The Turing test.

Waverly was mad at the world.

Why? 'Cause she was going to end up alone. It was the only outcome that she could actually see happening.

'Cause she faked every interaction she had outside of her immediate family. She went to classes and ran into people she knew, and waved, 'cause that's what you're supposed to do, and if they started a conversation, she smiled and her voice rose a couple' notes and she answered the pre-recorded, correct answers, provided information when they asked for it, smiled and nodded and pretended to listen when they talked when really she wasn't even there. She fell into the part without even realizing it, just started acting. Acting and dissociating. Sometimes, she played it a little more "real", a little closer to the truth, but really she was just playing a slightly different part, the part of the shy, awkward girl. Because people find shy, awkward girls cute, then leave them alone. She went on Tinder and swiped on people based on looks and a few basic criteria and occasionally remarked on how her mother would think this was shallow. It's OK, depth will come later, right? She waited for them to message her first. She Googled "what to respond to [their message]", or copied and pasted it into ChatGPT. She agreed to meet them for coffee and fell into the part once more. The fake smile. The slightly higher voice. She'd noticed her head tilts slightly to the left when she fakes a laugh. You're so funny. Oh, that's so interesting. It was nice meeting you. We should totally do this again.

They do it again. She fakes it again. She pretends that she likes spending time with him, maybe even convinces herself that she does. It takes about a month, maybe two, before she realizes that she thinks of his name and no feeling comes to mind. She wears his hoodie to the homecoming street party because that's what she's supposed to do. It looks so big on her, isn't that adorable? She holds his hand, they share a drink, she plays the part.

Tell me, what do you feel when I let you kiss me? When I let you touch me? If I gently run my fingertips along your skin and breathe your name while your lips graze my neck, will you believe that I am into this too? Is this what I'm supposed to do?

Sometimes she tried to romanticize it, pretend that she was some kind of badass Femme Fatale and this was all part of her ingenious plan, but she wasn't sexy or seductive, and the best she could get them to believe was that she was normal.

In movies on TV and in books, people have so many feelings. The more Waverly read, the more she came to believe that she had three. She could feel angry, she could feel down, and she could feel energized. She supposed stressed, too, if that counted as an emotion. If she was lucky, she might feel two at the same time. But all those colourful little subtleties, she seemed to be missing. Affection was something she'd heard of, but couldn't remember the last time she'd felt. Grief made sense on paper, but she couldn't give you one personal example. And horror, revulsion, heartbreak, anguish, passion, enchantment, love -- she didn't know if she even had the capacity to understand the concepts. She felt as though she saw the world in greyscale, while everyone around her spoke of a near-infinite spectrum of bright jewel tones and deep, mixed and layered and contrasting hues.

The issue, the more she thought about it, wasn't actually that she couldn't feel emotions. No, that didn't sound right. Upon further consideration, she came to the conclusion that she just couldn't feel them for other people. No one could make her care. She would end up alone because no relationship she built ever had the potential to be real. If she tried very, very hard, she could make you like her, and you would project your humanity onto her and convince yourself that your feelings were returned.

As she sipped her tea in the living room of the apartment she shared with roommates she barely spoke to, she pondered her recent discovery that AI detectors would often flag her writing as AI generated. She tested it once on a section of a report she wrote for school because she was curious. Wasn't that interesting? Apparently, she was indistinguishable from a robot.

She wondered if she would pass the Turing test.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:

A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.

The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.

He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.

One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:

“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”

Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:

“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”

Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:

“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”

Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:

“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.” 

He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”

Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:

“The stables?”

The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.

When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.

~

The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.

This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing. 

The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man. 

Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:

“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”

The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:

“That’s treason, Merlin.”

“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”

Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-

“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:

“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”

Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:

“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”

Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-

“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”

Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?

Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:

“Fuck off.”

Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:

“You love me really, you prat.”

With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.

Huh.

~

The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding. 

He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:

“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”

Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:

“...What?”

Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:

“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”

She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.

The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.

Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:

“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”

Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:

“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”

Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:

“What do you want?”

Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:

“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”

Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:

“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”

Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:

“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”

Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:

“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”

Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:

“Fuck off.”

Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.

~

The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.

He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner. 

He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.

The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:

“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”

Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.

He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.

It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.

~

He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.

In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.

And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.

So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.

He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip. 

He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.

He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.

He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.

Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.

Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.

~

THE END

I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

[freakadr0id]

what do you think about donnie and shelldon? i cant seem to make up my mind if the whole "parent and trouble child" thing is just a gag or something more than that dkndjd was wondering if you have any thoughts on it!

To be honest, I love the dynamic they create with Donnie and Shelldon. Not only do I find the concept to be rather funny, but the writers made it surprisingly wholesome and I appreciate that.

Shelldon is one of my favorite reoccurring side characters in the show. He doesn't show up too much, but enough to definitely make him memorable, even without 'Breaking Purple'. I just find something about a little purple drone with a surfer dude voice (genius decision to keep that btw) following around a very articulate Donatello who both have a bit of a violent streak to be very entertaining. I don't know what made the writers decide to have him, of all things, stick around but I am very glad they did.

Of all the things I expected them to do with Shelldon's character, a look at a potential parent-child relationship between Donnie and Shelldon certainly wasn't one of them. It was a really interesting direction for them to take their character dynamic and I think they pulled it off really well.

I love how we see the connection between Donnie and Splinter and how Donnie's actions were influenced by his Dad. It creates such an interesting parallel between them that I don't want to get into too much here (but know that I fully intend to in the future). We also get to see more of Donnie's nurturing side, or as nurturing as he can get, which adds on another layer to the way Donnie shows affection to those he cares about. When push comes to shove, Donnie will do anything to make sure those he cares about are safe and even put himself at risk to do so. He really, really loves his family (two reallys) and he would do anything for them; the same clearly applies to Shelldon.

Now, do I think it was just a one-time gag? No. Kind of? In a way.

I doubt the writers planned on going much deeper into the father-son relationship between Donnie and Shelldon (at least not explicitly) but I don't think they were going to completely forget it either. I think that, originally, 'Breaking Purple' was meant to be a continuity episode. By "continuity episode" I mean an episode that could technically be seen as "filler" (I DESPISE that term) but still has some impact on the show as the characters and show might occasionally reference back to it. It isn't necessarily key to the plot, but it does add substance to the overarching lore of the show.

If season 2 had gone on as planned, I believe we would have seen many of the things in 'Breaking Purple' referenced again later in the show. The whole father-son thing would probably have been made into a side-gag with some background interactions that would only make sense with the context of the episode. This is also the first time we see Dr. Feelings (not Dr. Positive) and the comparison between Donnie and Splinter was made so obvious I find it hard to believe that the writers didn't want to do more with that in the future.

I know we didn't see Shelldon in the movie and that we saw his deactivated head briefly, but I don't think the writers would have kept Shelldon in the show as much as they did only for them to forget him by the movie. With the development hell that movie went through, I imagine there were a number of reasons as to why they didn't/couldn't put him in the movie.

I hope they bring back Shelldon in season 3 and that they at least reference their father-son dynamic, even if it isn't fully explored again. The relationship between the two is simultaneously wholesome and hilarious and the amount of snarky dialogue that could come from the two of them is just too good to pass up.

I...did not expect this answer to get as long as it did. Guess I had more to say than I thought I did. Thank you for the ask, Anon!

[ashesandhackles]

Deconstructing Harry: The boy we meet in Philosopher's Stone to the man in Deathly Hallows

I have often seen fans talk about how nebulous Harry is as a character, especially in the earlier books. They can't make sense of who he is as a character and other more colourful, more actualized personalities take over our attention from any traits Harry might display. Harry becomes more defined for a lot of people OOTP onwards where he displays traits that sometimes make him unbearable or unlikable.

Harry, as we are introduced in PS, has a very little sense of self. He is narratively self deprecating or plays down his presence or skills, not that he is aware he has any. He grew up without any presence of him displayed in the house - no photos, no idea about his parents or what they look like or what really happened to them and discouraged from asking questions. Harry as we meet him is neglected, rootless about his identity and longs for escape. For him, every day is a battle against Dudley, who bullies him or Vernon, thus setting a worldview that never truly goes away: him vs adults. But just because Harry doesn't attach traits or values to self, does not mean he does not have it.

It's an effective narrative tool though - for Harry to be our eyes of the world. Only in later re-readings can we get a grasp of the traits that become more pronounced as books go on. Also, it's not surprising that Harry develops a better sense of self when he is removed from an abusive home.

Let me begin with this:

1. Harry is a fighter

One of the things that struck me in later re-readings is that how much of a fighter Harry is, from the very beginning. He will not lie down and take abuse. The narrative presents it as no big deal, because Harry doesn't assign any importance to it - it's every day life for him.

-Verbal standing up-

See his reaction to Uncle Vernon and the letter fiasco. He stands up for himself, even if it falls on deaf ears. "I want my letter - as it is mine!". Later on, in the same book, a completely befuddled 11 year old Harry stands up to Snape too, but in a politer way: "I think Hermione knows the answer. Why don't you try her?". He gets less polite with Snape as books go on. Harry's humor is something he employs liberally with Dudley when standing up to him - "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick" and we see this trait manifest into the sass we all know and love.

- Fight or flight-

He is remarkably good at "fighting himself out of tight corners" as Snape put it. And although Snape attributes it to luck and more talented friends, he is onto something about Harry's ability to worm out of tight corners. He lives moment to moment in a dangerous situation - relying on his nerve, very fast reflexes and athleticism. He is also able to notice things in an environment that will get him out of a quick pinch. You see this clearly in Department of Mysteries in Book 5 where he comes up with the idea to smash shelves, the mad idea to escape on a dragon, the ministry escape where he manipulates Runcorn's image (as he noticed how people were reacting to him) to create chaos and get the Muggleborns and the trio out, Chamber of Secrets when he instinctively understood the diary is the source of power and stabbed it.

Where does the athleticism and ability to spot dangerous situation come from? This boy has spent a decade cheeking Dudley and running away from his gang, spotting when he needs to get out of the way as "long experience had told him to be out of Uncle Vernon's arms reach" or "ducking when Aunt Petunia aimed a frying pan at his head". The instinct to see a dangerous situation develops over the course of the books in his adventures - to the point Harry unconsciously brings out his wand in Tottenham road without thinking too much about it. He is almost always wary and less quick to lower his wand.

When hiding/ escaping is not an option, Harry is not above physical fighting - despite how small and skinny he is in Book 1. Both he and Dudley fight for a chance to listen at the door when letter first arrives for Harry. Dudley wins the fight. Later on, Harry jumps Uncle Vernon from behind and hangs on to his neck to get his letter. He even does the same thing to the troll in the same book. ( Then over the course of series, we see him beat up Sirius in Book 3, Malfoy in Book 5, strangle Mundungus in Book 6 - all of these are related to his fury over the dead, so different context. But still).

- Manipulation/ Cunning-

11 year old Harry even tries sneakily - waking up early to get his letter (unfortunately didn't work). The other sneaky methods he has employed throughout the series is - not telling Dursleys at end of PS that he is not allowed magic at home, threatens Dudley with it in COS, not telling them Sirius is innocent to play up the threat of a murderous godfather to keep them accountable, and also the smooth way he negotiates with Uncle Vernon for Hogsmeade letter. ("Well it will be hard work, pretending to aunt Marge that I go to St Whatsits" ,"Knocking the stuffing out of me won't make Aunt Marge forget what I could tell her"). He similarly displays his negotiation and playing to what he knows about people with Slughorn in Book 6, Pettigrew in Book 7.

The scene with Slughorn is disturbing, with Harry coercing a drunk Slughorn to give up his memory. You can argue that this is the influence of Felix Felicis, but I think the potion acted more as facilitation. The disturbing way Harry brings up his mother's murder to unnerve Slughorn is his own doing. ("Voldemort stepped over my father's body towards mum" "I forgot - you liked her, didn't you?"). Again, in a life threatening situation, Harry plays to Pettigrew's latent guilt: "You are going to kill me? After I saved your life? You owe me Wormtail!"

2. Relational justice over abstract justice

Harry's concept of justice is relational and based on his high empathy for the underdog. He notices power dynamic in a situation and empathises with the victim. This is in contrast to Hermione, who has more abstract, bigger picture view of justice. It's no wonder that Hermione is the one who is the most political of the three.

His high empathy for the underdog and needing to stand up for them is because he feels responsiblility that no one should go through what he went through. He stands up for Neville in PS and encourages him to stand up for himself. When he sees his father bullying Snape, it is not about an abstract "this is wrong behavior". Harry goes further: "Harry knew what it felt like to be taunted among a circle of onlookers" , Harry focuses on young Snape's mismatched clothes because he himself knows what it's like to wear clothes that are not yours or ones that make you look ridiculous. His empathy extends to Voldemort too - understanding why he may not want to go back to his orphanage and desire to be in Hogwarts, wondering why Merope wouldn't stay alive for her son, his fixation with Voldemort's maimed soul in King's Cross chapter and later asking Voldemort to feel remorse (" I have seen what you will become otherwise"). Even his reaction to Dobby in COS - "Can't anyone help you? Can't I?" when Dobby talks about his slavery. Hermione is usually seeing the bigger picture, Harry sees the individual.

3. Pathological mistrust of adults

He is less likely of the trio to take an adult at their words or be assured by them when they say they are taking care of things. He has learnt, from a very young age, that he is always expected to take care of himself. And the times he does take things to adult, they consistently disappoint him - by patronising him or acting like he is a child, neither of which he has tolerance for or appreciates. This is why he takes to Sirius and Lupin, who exhibit neither of these communication patterns. In some ways, Mr Weasley too.

Umbridge's abuse of him for him is framed as a battle of wills between her and him, as if he is an equal. And he loses if he complains - "not giving her a satisfaction of knowing she got to me". Harry's worldview has always been - adult vs him.

His inability to trust adults even extends to the ability of adults he likes to look after themselves. While Sirius is understandably a wreck in OOTP, he has by and large followed Dumbledore's orders. This doesn't register with Harry (Ron points it out: "Sirius listens to Dumbledore even though he doesn't like what he hears") and Harry's fears about Sirius, excaberated by Sirius's tendency for recklessness, comes to play.

He even showed similar distrust in Lupin's judgement in taking a potion from Snape in POA ("Harry felt the urge to knock the goblet out of Lupin's hands" and tries to hint at Lupin that Snape will "do anything" for DADA job). And he shows this once again with the most magically powerful wizard he knows - Dumbledore. ("if I tell you to abandon me and save yourself, you must do so". Dumbledore has to insist on this before Harry nods reluctantly. It's also Dumbledore's wording, but this is a wizard Harry feels safe with almost entirely because of his power - and yet Harry cannot obey an order like this without reluctance). It's not about Harry's own ability to take care of them - he just innately cannot leave people to it.

4. Humor as a value and coping mechanism

Harry has an established coping mechanism by the time we are introduced to him - quip in the face of danger/ dark humor. There are repeated instances of Harry amusing himself with snarky comments in his head when things are really bad for him. Like in PS, when they are in the hut, Harry wonders if the roof will fall in and then thought that if it did fall in, he might be warmer. In the earlier books (before his growth), he seems to value Ron over Hermione simply because he is more "fun". Harry enjoys being around funny people like Ron, Weasley twins, later Ginny simply because there is some dark stuff happening with him and he needs "fun" people for semblance of normalcy, escape. In fact, this desire is so strong, he attaches it to his romantic relationships: Ginny is a "blissful oblivion" and times with her are "something out of someone else's life". His relationship with Cho failed because her coping mechanism is discussing her trauma and Harry's is escaping it.

-dealing with conflict with people he likes, small digression-

A part of his growing up in later books includes valuing Hermione as much he values Ron and we see it in display in HBP, where he is more willing to stand up for her to Ron (something he kind of did more quietly before in POA - "can't you give her a break?" ) and also get confrontational with her instead of using Ron as a buffer between them to fend off her more boisterous/ bossy tendencies. ("let him make up his mind" "skip the lecture" "don't nag" - Ron took the heat in earlier books. In HBP, Harry is more willing to be irritable with her in a day-to-day interaction - "I hope you enjoy yourself" he tells Hermione when she states her intention to investigate Half Blood Prince. Or when she tests the book - "Finished? Or do you want to see if it does backflips?" "Do you have rub it in Hermione, how do you think I feel now?" at the end of HBP. ) In OOTP, his best method to deal with her when she bothers him was lying, avoiding her nagging and if that doesn't work, explode and treat her to display of his temper. There is more to explore here, of course - even with regard to how he deals with Mrs Weasley in Book 4, 5 and the difference of him hugging her in Book 7.

5. Fascination with the dead/ a passive death wish

Harry feels remarkably little sense of betrayal knowing that he was set up to die by Dumbledore. His self sacrificing streak is rooted in his love, yes, but I also think Harry is a little bit too fascinated by death, not surprising considering most people he loved are dead. Him wanting the resurrection stone in DH, him obsessively spending time at Mirror of Erised (to the point he feels feverish and Ron thinking he looks strange) until Dumbledore stops him, him almost wanting to fail to learn a Patronus because he wants to hear his parents voice, the hearing of whispering voices in the Veil in OOTP which only Luna could hear apart from him, the scene at the grave where he almost wishes he was "lying under the snow" with his parents, the possession scene in the book of OOTP has him wishing to die so he can be with Sirius. You can almost argue the Harry has, in many moments, shown raw desire of death. In fact, him choosing to let go of the stone and not go looking for it is a big character decision for him.

I also want to address Harry's temper and how that develops over course of series, the implications of understanding the people he loved and put on pedestal are flawed - but I am afraid this post is already way too long. So I will leave that for some time later.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Hey Daddy - Bucky Barnes

a/n: so this one is a little more... lighthearted? idk but it was based on THIS request!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: You join Peter and his friends for a game of Truth Or Dare but you wish you stayed in your room when MJ challenges you to do a task that will definitely out your secret relationship with Bucky.

masterlist

You totally forgot Peter would have his friends over for the night, so you’re slightly surprised when you find him with Ned and MJ in the kitchen, but it’s a pleasant one. You’ve been spending a lot of time with him, being the youngest of the adults in the tower, you developed a great friendship with the youngster and his friends.

“Oh, hello guys! Good to see you again!” you beam at the three of them, Ned greeting you with a little wave and a stunned smile on his face. Peter has recently revealed that Ned might have a tiny crush on you, which you find cute. Though you’re more than a decade older than him, you find it endearing he is crushing on you out of all the amazing women on the team.

MJ nods in your way as she munches on her sandwich, if you didn’t know her better you’d think she is annoyed by you judging by the look on her face, but you’ve learned by now that this is her default expression, almost a happy one.

“Hi Y/N!” Peter greets you smiling. “How was your day?” he asks lightly. He is such a good kid, knows his manners and cares so much for others. The men in the tower like to tease him about his soft behavior, but you think it’s such a great trait.

“A little tiring. Training kicked my ass today, but it was fine. What are you guys up to?” you ask, grabbing yourself a canned soda from the fridge.

“MJ wants to play truth or dare, but only because she wants to make us do embarrassing stuff,” Peter huffs looking at the girl who just smiles with a shrug.

“Oh, I love that game! Used to play it a lot at parties too!” you smirk, remembering the times you played with your friends in the basement of your mom’s house.

“You want to play with us?” MJ offers.

“If you don’t mind…”

“Not at all!” Peter smiles, happy to have another person join their little group. Glancing at Ned you see that he is now blushing, the tip of his ears turning red as he keeps his eyes fixed on the screen of his phone. Poor kid will have to learn how to function around women sooner or later.

The game starts out quite innocent, it’s not even the wild version where you’re drinking, though it popped into your head to pour yourself some wine. But then you decided to keep it PG rated for the kids’ sake.

But as more and more rounds go down, the tasks and questions are getting a little… spicy. When MJ turns to you and asks you the question of the game and you answer before you could even think about it, you know you are in trouble.

“Dare,” you answer and want to take it back right away, but you don’t want to look like such a pussy. But then MJ smirks at you devilishly and you consider just walking out before she ruins your whole life.

“Alright, text all the other Avengers ‘Hey Daddy’ and read the responses out loud.”

The boys gasp as you press your lips into a thin line, knowing well it won’t end good on your side. Especially because there is one person whose response you would rather not read out loud.

You’ve been close to Bucky since day one and though you both were a little ignorant towards your feelings, a few months ago you finally moved your relationship a little further than just being friends. However you both agreed it’s better kept as a secret, at least until you figure out where you really want to head together as a couple.

Now, if you text that message to Bucky there’s no way he won’t write back something that would bust your asses right away, but you can’t back out now, you can only hope he is busy doing something else and won’t pay attention to his phone.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket you lean onto the kitchen island as the kids start cheering for you being a badass and accepting the task.

“Just hey daddy, that’s all?” you ask as you open your contacts.

“Maybe add a winking face,” Ned suggests and you shoot him a glare that immediately turns his face red as he shuts his mouth.

“The winking face is a good idea,” MJ nods.

“Thanks, Ned,” you mumble under your breath as you start opening the text threads, sending them all the same message. Tony, Nat, Steve, Banner, Clint, Sam, Strange, even Rhodey and at the end of the list… Bucky.

“And what, now we wait?” Peter asks.

“Place the phone here so we see when you get a reply and you’ll read them, we can move on until then,” MJ tells you, bossing you around like you’re not even a highly trained special agent who could take her out in a blink of an eye.

The first reply comes from Nat who just asks if you’re drunk. Then comes Banner, who sounds offended that you think he could be your father, totally missing the point of the text. Tony teases you about always knowing you had a thing for him, Steve kindly tells you he only sees you as a sister, Clint just reads the text and doesn’t reply. Sam just sends a simple “control yourself” message back while Strange threatens you to block you if you send another text like this again. Rhodey doesn’t even reads it.

You start to feel relieved when about twenty minutes pass by and no reply comes from Bucky. The game moves on and you almost start to forget about the whole task when your phone lights up again and your breathing hitches when you see Bucky’s name appear on the screen.

“Oh, another reply!” MJ beams as she urges you to unlock the phone and read the reply. When you do so and see his text, you almost just hop off the stool and run out of the kitchen. You consider saying something else, pretending like he didn’t write what he did, but MJ doesn’t take the bullshit and her patience runs short so she simply snatches your phone out of your hand and reads the text herself.

“I specifically remember you saying you’re not into that stuff. What else are you keeping from me about our sex life?”

You let out a long and tired sigh as the room falls silent and they all just stare at you in confusion before MJ slowly slides the phone back to you.

“Our sex life? There’s… there’s a you and Bucky?” Peter asks quietly, not sure what to do with the new information. An anxious chuckle slips from between your lips as you try to find a way to get yourself out of this massive trouble, but nothing comes to your mind. You’ve fought aliens, assassins, you were captured, tortured, went on a hundred mission in your life, yet now three kids defeated you with a game of Truth or Dare.

“Well, um… It’s a funny story, you know—I don’t… fuck,” you mumble, scratching the back of your neck.

“Are you like… together or is it just a friends with benefits thing?” MJ question, shooting you a curious look.

You don’t get to answer, because just as you are about to open your mouth, the man in talk walks in, a puzzled look on his face, phone in his hand, probably still dwelling on your latest message. His eyes spot you first, but then he realizes that you’re not alone and he freezes. It’s not that Bucky doesn’t like Peter or his friends, he just feels so far away from people these days, let alone teenagers who are about a century younger than him.

“Oh,” he breathes out, slowly walking closer to you. “Hello guys,” he murmurs shyly, trying to put the picture together as his eyes fall back to you and he sees how uncomfortable you are. Before he could get another word out, MJ speaks up and just as always, her raw style doesn’t disappoint any of you.

“Don’t worry, your girlfriend is not really into the Daddy stuff.”

You almost choke on your own breath as you turn to shoot her a glare, your hand moving to grab Bucky’s arm gently, sensing him growing more and more anxious with each second.

“MJ, I don’t think Sergeant Barnes is the right person to joke around with,” Ned mumbles, avoiding to even look at Bucky as you let out an airy chuckle.

“G-Girlfriend? We are not—“ Bucky starts, but you cut him off.

“No use to deny, Buck. They know it.”

Bucky huffs, closing his eyes for a moment before he moves closer to you, his hand coming to rest on your lower back. Despite the absurdity of the situation, this small little gesture makes your heart pitter-patter in your chest.

“Is there any chance this could stay between us, kids?” you ask with a charming smile, turning to the three troublemakers.

“I don’t know, what do we get out of keeping it a secret?” Peter purses his lips, pretending to have the higher ground, but you already know what’s about to come.

Bucky’s vibranium arm snaps to the counter top as he shoots a death glare over to the poor kid and though he definitely looks like he is ready to kill any moment, you know that it’s all just an act.

“How about I don’t rip your guts out, kid? That enough?” Bucky growls and while all three of them take a step back with wide eyes and dry throats, you just shake your head chuckling, placing a hand to his hard chest.

“Buck, no need to go all winter soldier on them. They’ll keep our secret, right?” you ask with an innocent smile and all three of them start nodding wildly, as if they just saw a ghost.

Seeing their reaction you realize it’s better if the game ends here and you let them be on their own. You thank for the fun time before grabbing Bucky’s arm and pull him out of the kitchen, heading up to your rooms.

“You shouldn’t have scared them that badly, Buck,” you scold him, but you still actually find it kind of funny, seeing their pale faces and fearful eyes at your boyfriend’s tough guy act.

“Well, they scare me too sometimes,” he mumbles shrugging. “Especially that MJ girl… she is just… weird.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words, a six feet tall super soldier with a metal arm being scared of a teenage girl with a big mouth, that’s quite an interesting concept.

“Hey,” you stop him before the two of you would part in the hallway. He turns back and his blue eyes soften on you. “Do you want to… sneak into my room?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip as you smirk up at him, sliding a hand up his chest, cupping his cheek in your palm. “We could have some fun… Daddy.”

“Wait, are you really into the daddy stuff?” he asks with wide eyes, making you cackle with your head falling back.

“Just shut up and come to my room,” you chuckle, pressing your lips against his as you pull him into your bedroom, shutting the door closed behind you.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Office Hours Part 2

Part 1 here

Thanks @shieldmaiden-of-gondor and @im-a-wonderling for making sure my fluff makes sense 😊

————————————

“Utterly hopeless. You are completely and utterly hopeless.”

Villain punctuated each word by banging his head on the table. When he finished his lament, he rested his head on the wood, dark hair falling haphazardly across his forehead.

Hero, sitting opposite him at the table in the private study room, also wanted to bang her head against the wood.

It was late. They’d been at this for hours. She wanted to scream in frustration.

Instead, she threw her pencil at Villain’s head.

His hand flew up, plucking the pencil from the air, and sending it back at her in one swift motion.

It nailed her in the shoulder, and she frowned at Villain as she rubbed the spot. He hadn’t even bothered to look up.

“You’re supposed to be helping me.”

He groaned. “Some things just can’t be helped.”

The metal pen on the table flew into the air with surprising speed, smacking into Villain’s shoulder before clattering to the floor.

He looked up then, raking his hair back off his forehead.

“You know, if you spent as much time studying as you did practicing your metallokinesis, you might actually pass this test.”

“I’m trying.” she snapped, eager to escape the dark-eyed scrutiny.

She frowned. Again. Trying to smother her embarrassment that Villain, of all people, knew how horribly inept she was.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t trying. It was just that Supervillain had been launching increasingly elaborate attacks each night. Then every time she studied, the concepts and numbers blurred together in her mind and she inevitably found herself waking up hours later with her face stuck to the pages of her textbook.

Villain was still looking at her, waiting for a response.

She swiped a hand across her bleary eyes and pink cheeks, wincing as her fingers brushed the large scrape on her left cheek.

A lucky blow from one of Supervillain’s droids had sent her careening into a brick wall last night, roughing up her face and arm in the process.

“What happened?”

It wasn’t the first time she’d caught him looking at her injuries through narrowed eyes.

Her stomach fluttered, despite the fact that the concern in his voice was obviously manufactured to get her to let her guard down.

“Where do you think, genius?” Squashing the wretched butterflies dancing around her insides, she shot him a glare and stood to retrieve her pencil and pen.

She had to go around the table to get her pen, and as she crouched to retrieve it, Villain chuckled.

“You could just use your powers, you know.”

Her face heated and she jolted back up, pen flying into her hand with a bit too much force. Her heart pounded in her chest, intensifying the color in her cheeks.

As she turned to return to her seat, a cool hand closed loosely around her wrist.

Villain gently tugged her towards where he sat, grip loose enough she could have pulled away if she wanted to.

She didn’t want to.

Considering the fact his boss wanted her dead, that was probably a bad thing.

Villain didn’t seem to notice her internal dilemma as he brought her closer.

When she was standing right in front of him, he let go, long slender fingers moving from her wrist to the angry red scrapes that marked her arm from wrist to shoulder. His touch was light, barely a flutter against her skin.

“I’ve been wondering all night what happened.”

His voice was quiet. Soft.

Hero raised her eyebrows. Then why hadn’t he asked earlier?

She shrugged. “Just a droid, you know. Like always.”

Her breath caught as his fingers wrapped around her upper arm, slowly turning it to get a better view of an angry red line that was deeper than the others.

“This isn’t from a droid.”

He was right. A droid would have ripped her arm off.

“Well, the droid may have had help from a brick wall.”

He winced in sympathy before looking up at her face, eyebrows scrunched together in concern as his fingers reached up towards her cheek.

He suddenly whirled to face the wall, hand falling away and his eyes narrowing as though he could see straight through it. Which, in a way, she guessed he could.

“Supervillain is coming. You should sit down.”

“He’s coming? Here? You told—”

Villain shook his head as he shooed her back to her seat. “I can sense him coming. He probably just has a question for me.”

Hero finally heeded Villain’s words and scrambled back around the table. Halfway there, she froze, pen slipping from her grasp.

Oh no.

Her heart leapt into her throat. “He’ll know it’s me! I have to go...” She reached to gather all the textbooks and papers spread across the table, but Villain appeared between her and the table.

“Calm down, Hero. He’s never seen your face without the mask.”

“It’s not about my face, Villain!” She gestured to the raw skin on her arm and cheek that had been too sensitive to bandage. “He saw me get thrown against the wall.”

Villain stiffened at her words, at the implication that these particular injuries labeled her as Hero just as effectively as her supersuit.

She tried to push past him.

“Wait. There’s no time.”

He grabbed the hem of his black hoodie and yanked it off in one swift motion.

Before she could comprehend his action, he was pulling the soft material down over her head.

“Arms in.”

She numbly obeyed, goosebumps springing up at his closeness, despite the warmth of the fleece.

“We can’t put the hood up, it would be too suspicious.” His words were muttered under his breath, and she wasn’t sure if she was meant to respond. She froze as his hands came around her, pulling the elastic from her hair.

He quickly ran his fingers through the blonde strands, pulling them forward to frame her face. She shivered as his knuckles brushed against her skin, and he pulled back.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

She hadn’t even realized it had been her injured cheek.

“It’s fine!” She said quickly, pulling at the strands herself. “Is this good?”

His lips were a tight line as he shook his head. “It’s still too obvious...”

His eyes shuttered closed for a moment, then flew open. “He’s almost here!”

Hero started, eyes leaping around the small room. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

Supervillain was known as the ‘friendly professor’ for a reason. He could chat the ear off an elephant. There was no way she could keep her head turned away the entire time he—

Villain was suddenly standing right there, and there was something wild in his eyes.

“I have an idea. You’re not going to like it.”

His head was tilted down towards hers, inches away.

His eyes were green.

She’d thought them black but...

Strong hands were suddenly at her waist, spinning her around and lifting her up onto the edge of the table, her back to the door.

She gasped, eyes going wide.

Villain raised an eyebrow in question.

She knew what he was asking; would be lying if she said she hadn’t imagined what it would feel like to...

Her eyes darted to his lips, which had quirked up into a smirk at the expression on her face as if to say, ‘I guess that answers that question.’

The doorknob jangled, and his hand slid around her back, pulling her against him as his lips crashed into hers.

Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck as he leaned forward, the fingers splayed across her back sending warm shivers across her skin.

Her leg wrapped around him and she heard his breath hitch as his warm lips moved against hers.

His other hand slid under her hair, coming to rest softly against her injured cheek, hiding it from view as the door swung open.

Hero’s arms fell away at the low chuckle behind her, but Villain simply pulled her more tightly against him. He pressed a final, slow kiss to her lips before straightening, slightly breathless.

His hands stayed though, subtly pushing her towards him as he smiled nonchalantly over her shoulder at the open door.

“Good evening, Professor.”

“Mr. Hammond.”

The voice sent fear snaking down Hero’s spine, and she buried her face in Villain’s green T-shirt, her trembling fingers grasping the fabric.

“I assume you are clocked in and getting paid for the work you do in office hours.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hero braced herself for a tirade from Supervillain, but instead she could hear the smile in his voice as he responded.

“Good.”

A long pause.

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?”

His voice was calm but Hero could feel the tension running through him.

“I had a question about our latest project, but seeing as you are... otherwise occupied... it can wait until morning.”

Her face, still buried in the dark green fabric, burned at the implication, but she felt Villain release a tiny sigh of relief.

“I’ll be at your office at 8am.”

“Good, good. I’ll just leave you to it then…”

Hero breathed a silent sigh of relief as she heard Supervillain’s hand grasp the doorknob. But she didn’t hear it close.

“Say, you look familiar, young lady…” Panic surged through her veins as his non-question hung in the air, and Hero’s hands clutched Villain’s shirt so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Villain chuckled softly. “She’s in your class, so you’ll have to forgive her for being embarrassed about the way you found out about our... relationship.”

How did he sound so calm??

Also—Relationship???

Villain’s fingers slid back to her cheek, encouraging her to lift her head while covering her injury.

“It’s alright, love,” Her heart skipped at the endearment, and she had to remind herself it was an act. “He doesn’t bite.”

No, but he would gladly murder her if he knew who she was.

She slowly lifted her head, turning her good cheek towards Supervillain and his knowing grin.

“And what’s your name, lucky one?”

“Addie.” Her voice came out a strangled whisper, but Supervillain seemed to find it funny rather than suspicious.

“Well, Miss Addie, I guess if you do poorly on this midterm, I’ll know who to blame.”

And with a small wink at Villain, he slipped out, closing the door firmly behind him.

[machinegunbun]

Ok I have only written you for MGK but I can definitely get into Pete (I wrote you a few minutes ago to tell me if you get too much stuff then i will dial it back 🙈)

So.. Pete is living in a house with his mom and sister in the basement as far as I know. So probably thats not a problem but lets just imagine that at least when somebody is in front if his door you can hear stuff.

And he fucks you or eats you out or something and repeatedly tells you to be quiet but at the same time does everything he can so you cant be quiet? Idk teasing kind meanish in a fun way Pete is something I can definitely imagine

Don’t be ridiculous, it’s never too much. I love having stuff to do.

 I also love this concept.

I might come back to change the ending later but I have to go do something so hmmm tell me if i should or if yall are ok with it.

Okay, so.

You’re on his couch, laid out across it with your head on his lap. One of his hands is lazily stroking your hair and the other is rubbing your thigh. He mentioned recently in an interview that he got in to watching pawn stars so I bet that’s what’s on the tv. Mmh, ripping people off, so sexy.

Your eyes are closed and you’re not really dozing off, just relaxing. You look up at him, completely enamored by his lame scripted reality tv show. Flipping from your side onto your back, you continued to stare up at him, waiting patiently for him to notice you. 

You would’ve thought he’d learnt his lesson after the zoom call.

Eventually he acknowledges your eyes on him, glancing down at you and raising his eyebrows.

“Hello beautiful.” He almost whispers, his former smoothing motions on your hair turning into somewhat of a scratch, the action causing you to close your eyes to enjoy the feeling. You let out a small sigh, tugging on his shirt when his eyes returns to the tv. He looks back to you after the second tug, leaning down to give you a kiss. You have to sit up a bit to accept it, and you gladly do so. He looks back to the tv assuming that’s all you wanted, until he feels another tug on his shirt.

“Another.” you whine, he leans down and place another small kiss to your lips, barely sitting back up before you’re tugging on his shirt again.

“Another.”

“Little DJ Khalid.” He says, leaning down once again, placing multiple kisses on your lips and all over your face. He remains there for a moment, quirking his eyebrow, giving you a moment to provide him with any kisses of your own. After a couple seconds of nothing, he sits back up and watches his show.

You remain like that for a bit, your needs momentarily satiated.  Eventually, the peace is disrupted as Pete gets up to get himself a water from the kitchen. He returns, cold water in hand, and sits back down with your head in his lap. You steal his water, drinking most of it, and he has to get back up to get himself more.

In faux anger, he sits at your feet, keeping his water far away from you.

“I wanna make out.” You say as he places his water on the table

“No, I don’t wanna kiss you. You stole my water.” He jokes, looking over at you giving him grabby hands.

“Fine. Only cause you’re so cute.” He says, sighing in defeat, leaning over, lips outstretched in preparation to give you your kiss. His eyebrows furrow as he’s momentarily halted by your hand.

“Wrong lips.” You smirk. Pete smiles back, pushing your forehead and sitting up to continue watching his show. You let him continue watching his show in peace, taking a nap instead.

Nah, i’m just fuckin joshin, when have you ever done that.

“You’re hot.” You say, staring at him, receiving only a glance in response as he knows exactly what you’re doing 

“Really hot.” You add, Pete humming in response. 

“You know what I love about you?” you didn’t wait for a response “Your tattoos. They’re sexy.” 

His eyes remain glued to the tv, softly rubbing your leg as you continue to compliment him.

“I love the ones on your hands. They turn me on so fucking much.” You continue, sucking one of his fingers into your mouth.

“Baby, I’m trying to watch my show.”

“So watch it.” You shrug.

“I can’t hear when you keep talking.” He says, his eyes remaining on the screen, his hand eventually coming to a stop on your calf. You sigh, taking the hand that you had taken the liberty of sucking each finger, sliding it down your body and placing it where you need him most. 

You assume he’ll continue to ignore you, so you shift your own attention back to the screen, watching as they try to undercut a guy for his boat, when you feel his thumb rubbing against your clit. You look back to him, and to his hand, watching as he slowly plays with your needy pussy, relieving at least some of the tension.

You can’t help the soft moan that floats past your lips as he rubs harsh, small circles around your clit. Pete looks at you when you do, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Be quiet.”

You take a small breath, closing your mouth and trying to remain quiet. You do pretty good too, but then he’s pulling your shorts down your legs and fingering you while he rubs your clit and you can’t help the squeaks the sneak past your lips.

“Shh.” he hushes

“Please, I need you.” You whimper, he shoots you a look that seems to be a warning glare, but leans down so his head is between your legs and licks and sucks at your clit. Obviously it felt good, his tongue and his fingers working you so well, so deep, so fucking good. Before you even really process what you’re doing you’re moaning out to tell him how good he’s doing, how hot he is, how you love his tongue, how you’re

“So fucking close, baby! Fuck, don’t stop.” You whine, you can feel your orgasm slowly approaching as you grip hard onto the couch, your hips jutting up in hopes you can somehow get his tongue flatter against your clit. 

He pulls away just before you can get your release, sitting up straight and working to pull his own pants down, boner evident even through the material of his joggers. 

“Oh my god, yes, fuck me.” You say, spreading your legs in anticipation for him.

“Are you gonna shut the fuck up?” He asks, eyebrow raised angrily.

You stare up at him, caught in the enigma of whether to answer with yes or not answer at all.

“Good.” he says, giving himself a few languid strokes before slipping himself inside, a groan falling past his lips as he feels your wet warmth wrap around his sensitive prick.

“Be quiet.” You retort, catching a glare.

“Haha, very funny.” he says, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat, his hips pounding away at your own.

Seeing as you’d already had your orgasm denied you can feel yourself unraveling around him within minutes, Pete following close behind. It’s safe to say that neither of you managed to be that quiet, and as you were laying there ontop of each other there was a knock at the door that obviously meant,

“Shut up, i’m trying to watch tv.”

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: August 8th

Well, doing big posts all together worked for a while but lately I’ve been putting it off because it takes a long time to get them done. I think I’m gonna try switching back to answering asks whenever I can fit it in and posting them one at a time instead of waiting until I’ve filled out one of these major collections.

But for now, here’s more ask answers! Thank you for the questions and for all the kind words along with them ^^.

Hello!! I'm here to ask if its possible to get  the game and its dlcs on steam and play it on android?

I’m afraid not. Steam doesn’t have Android builds on their own site and Steam is not cool with keys for other sites being given out for Steam purchases, so you don’t get the Itch version from buying on Steam.

Hello! Sorry to bother you but, I had a question, if we buy the Game on itchio do we get steam keys or would we need to purchase it twice? 

You would have to buy it twice if you want it in both places, I’m sorry. To repeat myself a little, Steam doesn’t like the key trading thing. Itch may support giving keys for another site, but the reverse isn’t doable with Steam and Steam doesn’t even really want you to get a Steam key for buying somewhere else either. So we just don’t mess around with that.

hey, sorry if this is frequently asked, but is step 4 free dlc or paid for? some of your sources are contradicting each other. 

It’s free! There’s a paid wedding DLC, but Step 4 itself is entirely unpaid.

Hello! I just had a quick question, for the Baxter and Derek DLC's will we be able to confess our feelings to them or let them confess to MC? or will it only be one way? (they confess to MC)

Both type of options will be available!

Hey there! I wanted to ask whether or not the Derek DLC is still on track to be released in August since on the steam discussion board it says it will be released mid 2021. I totally understand if it isn't, I'm just really looking forward to it! If you answer then ty! And keep up the amazing work :D 

It’s not, aha. Unfortunately, 2021 wasn’t easier than 2020 as we hoped so things are still slower than planned. It’ll come out late 2021 or early 2022.

Hi! Firstly I just want to say that I LOVE Our Life. I have played a bit of similar games but this one instantly wins for the best one! Everything about it is amazing! I just wanted to ask if Derek would ever lose feelings for MC, like if they make the deal and then MC gets with Cove would he move on? and even if you don't, after "losing contact" would his feeling fade or would he still like MC? 

If you don’t really keep in touch with him and clearly move on with your life, Derek will too and he’ll be over it. But if you are still close as best as you can be, he’ll still think the MC is special. Though, he’ll always support your relationship with someone else if that’s what’ll make you happy.

Hello! Sorry if you've answered this before but: 'How's Lee related to us? Though which momma? And does she share our player-chosen last names? Also, do you know if Noelani took Pam's last name or did it happen the other way round? 

She’s related to Pamela and Pamela’s last name is the one they use, so the MC has the same last name as Lee.

Will we be able to choose which (they or he) we tend to call Qiu by more often, or will it randomly change depending on the moment? 

Qiu knows which pronoun they’re comfortable with at a time and you’ll call them what they’re happy with. And it doesn’t change between lines, it takes multiple scenes or even full Steps for it to switch. So for extended periods Qiu will be totally a guy or fully agender.

Will Step 4 of OL2 have moments?

It’ll be an epilogue like it is in OL1, so it won’t have a bunch of different Moments.

Hello! Just a quick question, is Sunset bird from OL1 based on a real location? If so what's it called? I wanna visit it +_+

ps i love your games so much <3

It isn’t based on one specific town you can go to, but there are a lot of little coastal towns in Cali that have a similar vibe!

Heyaaa ( I hope you're all well ), umm… it might seem kinda stupid to ask but did Patreon members can have a key for the dlc's ( all the steps-released dlc ) even if they became a member this month or later ? (me? saying this cuz it's my case? maybe ;-;), and once again thanks for absolutely all the amazing works on all the games ! u-u 

You wouldn’t get the DLCs for backing there. The Patreon is for extra bonus content/early access, rather than being a storefront to purchase the normal DLCs. Rarely we give them out as a side gift, but it hardly happens and if what you want is the DLCs it’s best to ignore the Patreon and  buy keys for those directly from Itch or Steam. I’m sorry for the confusion.

Hey y'all, love what youre doing w/Terry. Trans rep outside of player customization is so rare and important to see more of so thank you so much. I do have a question and its that does he have a canon sexuality? I know Miranda was said to be straight ace but I dont believe anything was stated for Terry probably because he wasnt revealed to be a guy which changes things. Im also curious if well get answers on how long hes liked Miranda since he may have liked her in step 3 before she liked him 

Terry likes women and Randy likes men! And he did like Miranda back in Step 3.

Will the Wedding Dlc release at the same time as Step 4? 

They’ll come out separately with Step 4 releasing first.

I really love Our Life so much! I've spent over 20hours playing it even though I only got it a week ago! I was wondering if I could make a fangame for Our Life with a different love interest but same plot. Next-door neighbors romance, multiple steps, etc? I'll probably make it on Google Slides though- 

Sure! I hope you have fun with it and I’m glad you love the game.

How does Cove feel about poly relationships? 

He’s got nothing against them for the people they work for, but he’s 100% monogamous and would only be comfortable with a partner who was willing to be monogamous with him.

Idk if this has been answered before but will Step 4 include the option to advance your feelings towards Cove? 

Yep, you’ll be able to determine your feelings and what your relationship is.

In step 4 will there be a chosen to say we live with Cove even as just friends? 

Yeah, you can choose to live with Cove and that can be done when you’re friends.

I just played the game with the MC and Cove being best friends and omg it’s still so damn cute like the wholesomeness of it all is too much for my heart I swear ^.^  Now with that all said I was wondering can we still marry Cove? if we only love him as a friend like let’s say we’ve made deal with him similar to the one we can make with Derek because let’s real no one could compete with what the MC and Cove have even if they aren’t in love. 

It’s great to hear you enjoyed the friendship story! You can live with Cove, but you can’t marry him platonically. Cove has familial affection for the MC if they’re best-est friends. He wouldn’t think to marry someone he loves like family and even grew up with as though they truly were siblings.

Are you still going to be making a DLC for XOBD? :] 

Yes! We’re slowing adding voiced lines and fixing errors.

It makes me laugh that Shiloh's last name is Fields because that's what I put as my last name! So in Our Life when he talked about "Ms. Fields" picking him up I was extremely confused, lol. That dude mimics personalities so much that he stole my surname!

Oh, wow, that’s a very funny coincidence, haha.

hi !! i cant seem to be able to get the scene where mc is able to propose to cove despite being at the 'love' stage and telling him i'd want to get married, are there any other details that im missing out on? the options just dont appear at the end... 

Maybe you missed telling Cove you were in love with him even if you mentioned wanting to get married or you might’ve accidentally said earlier in the game that you don’t want to progress your relationship further with Cove. We haven’t removed them, so you can get the scene again. It’s just kind of easy to miss since there’s multiple requirements. You can read a little guide in the FAQ.

wait what di you need to do to be able to propose to cove? I've been trying but haven't had much luck 

You can check out the FAQ linked above!

does cove only develop a crush on the mc if the mc is also at crush/in love with him? 

Technically, yes. We treat the non-romantic relationship options as truly non-romantic since we don’t want to bait and switch people. But there’s nothing wrong with headcanoning that Cove does have feelings developing for the MC even before the MC has.

Is there a way to make/allow Lee and Baxter to date?

No, they just don’t have enough time together.

We also got a group of asks related to Tamarack in OL2, but I’m afraid the way they talked about people with larger bodies made me not want to post their words, even if the person didn’t say they’re trying to be hurtful. I will separate out the core question and answer it though, so people can know that info.

Does Tamarack lose weight in later Steps?

No, she doesn’t. As for the other questions included, to be honest, I don’t have to explain/defend having romance options of different sizes. I’m sorry if you’re dealing with unhappiness that’s connected to body image, if that’s where the negative emotions are coming from, but even so I can’t meet you on that level and pretend it’s a problem that needs an answer. A girl who simply isn’t thin being a main love interest is just not an unreasonable concept. Also, Tamarack isn’t a lesbian. Yes, she can date a female MC, but that doesn’t undo her actual sexuality, so I’m not sure where that one part at the end was coming from.

I wonder... can we "fight" with Qiu over leader status? 👀

Not really, haha. No matter how cool your MC is, they’re never gonna replace Qiu for the other kids around. So you can either partner up with him, follow him too, or not be a part of all that group politics stuff.

So when I play the game, sometimes I mentally call Cove “Covie/Covey” and that made me wonder, how does Cove feel about being nicknamed? Not like Romeo/Space Cadet/etc. but like pet names relating to his actual name

It’d depend on his age, personality, and your relationship with him! When he’s younger he’d probably be embarrassed, when he was grown he’d probably be more casual or happy about it.

will you be able to date baxter in step 3 while at crush with cove (but not dating him ofc) sorry if this has been asked already. i really love baxters step 4 design btw!! 

Yeah, you can be crushing on Cove and date Baxter if you weren’t already dating Cove. You just can’t be truly in love with Cove and then switch to Baxter.

I just got my friend into our life, and they adore shiloh and derek sooo will there be more of them in the second game? 

I’m afraid not. But you can see plenty more of Shiloh in XOXO Droplets/XOXO Blood Droplets, haha.

I see you haven't gotten any xoxo droplets asks recently but I'm still obsessed with these boys!! I was just wondering if Nate would curse under any circumstance? 

Yeah, Nate does use certain swear words (damn, hell, bastard) on very rare occasions.

Hi there! I have a question about the wedding dlc. Will we be able to plan a honeymoon during the planning stages of it or would it be something that Cove and the mc would rather plan later on? Thank you! Absolutly love the game by the way, definitely one of my favorite games! 

The focus will be on the wedding day itself. The topic of the honeymoon might come up a bit, but there won’t be any choosing of the exact location and such.

Hi! I have two questions and it's completely understandable if you only answer one/neither and I'm sorry if you've already answered either before! First, is there a set year in which OL:B&A takes place (ex: Step 1 being set in 2010 & Step 2 being set in 2016, etc.) or is it simply up to interpretation? Second, have you guys thought about doing a coming-of-age game where the MC has a tough home life or upbringing? (like one of their parents is an addict, a parent being transphobic whilst the player has the option to be trans, or having friends that are influencing them to do drugs, etc.) That's all! Thanks for making beautiful games. <3 

There is a set timeline!

Step 1: 2006 Step 2: 2011 Step 3: 2016 Step 4: 2021 

And we don’t currently plan on making a game like that. The Our Life series exists to be a safer environment for people to play around in and if we did do a brand new series that was harsher edged it’d be something more fantastical and/or plot-driven instead of a different type of modern day slice-of-life growing up story. I’m sorry.

i don’t know if you’ve already answered this, but do you have a guess on when phase 4 will come out? as well as ol2? i’m so excited for both of them, the inclusivity in this game is amazing, you guys should be really proud of it! 

Step 4 will be coming out very soon! OL2 is gonna take until 2023 to be anywhere near completion. But we might episodically release the Steps one at a time as they get done instead of waiting for three to be finished before launch like we did with the first game.

Hello, I was curious if there was an official or unofficial discord server for the game? 

We do have a discord! You can join by clicking this link HERE.

how long do you plan to keep ol's patreon running? 

Hopefully for at least a few more years.

Are you considering ever making merch? 

Yeah, but I don’t know when it’ll happen or what exactly we’ll make, aha. It’s something we want do, just nothing is set.

hi! i just found out about your game a couple of days ago on tiktok (so sorry if you’ve already answered this question) and i was wondering if y’all are ever planning to release it on iOS? 

I have no idea. It’s hard for a small group to get Apple approval and I honestly can’t say if it’ll ever happen or not. Maybe someday, though!

Hi, I love the art style of Our life and I would like to know if the artist has a Twitter? Also, could it be possible to fund more CGs for the game from him/her? So many times, I wish there was one like when the cutscene of the sunshower. 

That’s nice of you to offer. He doesn’t have a Twitter, at least not one that’s public enough to be shared with me. And I’m afraid not. The issue is that the CGs take huge amounts of time rather than there not being a budget for it. He’s gotta make CGs for Step 4, the DLCs, and new character sprites, too. There isn’t space in the schedule for even more. Sorry for that.

Hi, how are you?!

Are you planning on accepting new writers or is it always the same people who write your stories??

Thanks!!

Our Life: Beginnings & Always won’t be getting new writers, but we will be hiring a new team of writers for Our Life: Now & Forever eventually!

perhaps this counts as nsfw and I'm sure it has been answered before but what does Cove prefer, chests/boobs or butts? or perhaps both :3c thank you for this wonderful game (and the patreon bonus moment, it was worth all the waiting and more ♥) 

He’s a “chests of all shapes and sizes” kind of guy, haha.

i was wondering- did any of the writers actually grow up by the beach? as someone who's lived in a beach town all their life it really did feel nostalgic to play through our life 1 

I was born and raised in Cali! Though, not right by the beach. We still had to make trips out, but the setting is based on my own childhood memories of small beach towns we went through.

In Derek’s upcoming DLC, will we be able to reference the pact we made as teens? (love olba and xod/xobd so much btw you’re literally amazing) 

Yep, you will be able to talk about that!

Oh, sorry about the Cole being secretly L ask, then!

If you wanted context: Death Note is about this one guy who finds a notebook that kills anyone who you write the name of in there. The guy eventually develops a God Complex and starts mass killing criminals and stuff. L is the one trying to find out who is killing all these people.

Me and my sister first joked about it because I couldn't remember how to translate a word about the way Cove was sitting, so I just did the pose, and it looked a lot like how L himself sits! Then we just snowballed from there, with more and more nonsense connections.

That’s okay! Thanks for explaining. I’m sorry I didn’t know what you meant.

[cacoetheswriting]

little riddle

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: gossip / rumours, talk of tattoos, a lil mutual pining, mainly fluff word count: 1.9k summary: crude workplace gossip brings you and spencer even closer. 

a/n: this is a follow up to little mystery. you don’t necessarily need to read the first part, but it will give you some context/background if you do.

-

News of the friendly little tattoo bet spread through the office like wildfire. And the news of who won was like adding gasoline to the heavily burning flame considering the risqué nature of your secret ink.

The thing about rumours is they don’t always start out that way.

Half the time it is simply an overheard conversation between friends, in this case also colleagues. The snippet is usually taken out of context. Passed from person to person to person until it spirals out of control and transforms into an unverified information statement. A believable one at that.

You were no stranger to workplace gossip, and truthfully it never bothered you. People will say what they want to say. Think what they want to think. It was a useless affair to try and stop them, or change their mind. Therefore, you never batted an eye.

Until now.

The current story going around didn't just involve you. It also focused on a certain young doctor who took things extremely literally, and often to heart.

Watching people walk through the bullpen whispering to one another, pointing fingers, and giggling. That sort of behaviour made you really angry. Primarily because you knew how to protect yourself and your feelings, but Spencer didn't quite grasp the concept of a rumour.

He currently sat slouching at his desk thinking he did something wrong.

With a soft sigh, you swiftly got to your feet and ambled towards him. Gently, you placed one hand on his shoulder causing him to glance up and meet your gaze. His lips pursed into an awkward half-smile.

“What do you say we get out of here? Maybe grab a quick bite to eat?” you suggested, raising a brow.

Spencer briefly glanced between the couple of agents currently looking at the two of you, whispering to one another. He nervously cleared his throat, and proceeded to slowly nod his head.

Once he stood up, you linked your arms together, unafraid of the judgemental stares.

Spencer on the other hand tensed under your touch, under your sudden closeness, under the lingering gaze of the gossiping agents. You noticed it instantly, and leaned in slightly so that your lips were at his ear.

“Don’t pay attention to them. They’re just jealous.” you whispered with a small smile.

The young doctor huffed quietly, clearly confused. “I don’t understand. Why would they be jealous?”

“Because you’ve seen what no other person in this sad joint has seen.” you teased, hoping it would lighten the mood just a little. It didn’t.

Spencer furrowed his brows together. “You mean the tattoo? If I knew it would cause this much drama I would have kept my mouth shut.”

“Don’t talk like that, doc. I’m glad you won the bet, I’m glad you got to see the tattoo, and I’m glad it’s you and me they’re talking about.” you reassured him as best you could, waiting for the elevator.

The metal machine appears momentarily and the two of you stepped inside. It was then you let go of his arm and leaned against the wall. Spencer slid his hands into the pockets of his pants, confusion still visible on his features.

“Why are you glad they're talking about us, Y/N?”

You shrugged. “Gotta make the best out of every situation, right? Plus, doc, I’m quite flattered they think I have a chance with someone like you.” you smiled, as his eyes widened.

Nervously, Spencer twitched his nose. “I-I... You-u think ehm, you think I’m out of your league?”

You nodded. “Of course! You’re incredibly smart, unknowingly funny, and not to mention really handsome. I’d be very lucky if you even considered being with someone like me.”

The young doctor wasn't entirely sure whether you meant what you said, or if perhaps you were just trying to cheer him up. Either way, it was the confidence boost he needed. His whole body instantly relaxed and his lips twirled upwards.

“I’d be the lucky one, Y/N.” he stated, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

Blood rushed to your face at the comment. You bit down on your bottom lip and simply stared at the man ahead, getting completely lost in his golden-eyes.

-

“Do I have something on my face?” you asked while bringing one hand up to your cheek, ready to wipe any crumbs away.

The young doctor quickly shook his head. “N-no... I-I ehm, I was just thinking.”

“About what?” you pried.

Spencer swallowed his breath. “Why don’t you want to know how I found out about your secret tattoo?” he asked in a low tone, and as soon as the question escaped his lips, he looked down at his empty plate, suddenly afraid of what your answer might be.

You observed him for a moment. The honest answer was you liked the mystery of not knowing. Spencer was always full of surprises, which is one of the many things you adored about him. To you, it didn’t matter how he found out.

The young doctor however, always liked to have all of the answers and you knew the topic would continue to bother him.

Dropping your fork, you placed your elbows on the edge of the table and rested your head in the palms of your hands. “Tell you what, doctor...” you began, grabbing his attention. He looked back up at you. “How about I guess how you knew? It’s only fair, don’t you think?”

The idea seemed to interest Spencer because his ears perked up and a timid smile circled his lips.

“But I’m gonna need some sort of clue because I am nowhere near as smart as you.” you added with a smirk, and he nodded.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, just smiling at one another. An unfamiliar, yet unmistakably happy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach as his eyes searched yours with such amity you thought you would melt into your chair at any given second.

“So,” you cleared your throat, “What’s my clue?”

Spencer pursed his lips.

You could see the wheels turning, as he took his time to think of something that wouldn’t be too hard for you to guess. He would never underestimate your intelligence, and in all honesty Spencer had a feeling you probably already had the answer, you were just giving him the benefit of the doubt. Always putting him first. He couldn’t help but chew on the inside of his cheek, containing the goofy smile the thought brought.

“It is the beginning of eternity, the end of time and space, the beginning of the end and the end of every space. What is it?” Spencer asked, and you furrowed your brows.

“Are you seriously giving me a riddle right now?” you gawked, “That’s my clue?”

“You said not to make it easy on you,” he pointed out, and you were slightly taken aback by his sudden confidence. It was a good look on him, confidence. You took a mental note to point it out to him later.

“Touché.”

-

The riddle played on your mind the rest of the afternoon. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t interfere with your work just a little.

Leaning back in your chair, fiddling with the pen in your hand, you silently mouthed the words to yourself over and over again - trying to make sense of what the answer was.

The first to notice the contemplation spread across your features was Morgan. He approached your desk, propping himself against the item and crossing his arms. Your eyes snapped up and you immediately took note of the grin circling his lips.

“What’s on your mind, pretty lady?”

“A riddle.” you answered honestly.

Derek furrowed his brows. “A riddle?”

You nodded.

“Well, care to share? Maybe I can be of some assistance.” Morgan offered, leaning down towards you for a brief second.

“No,” you hummed, “I think I got this.”

Derek rolled his eyes, scoffing. “You and your secrets.”

The comment made you chuckle, but before you got to say anything back, Morgan continued, “I thought the mysteries ended when Elle left. The two of you always giggling and whispering to one another.”

Your eyes widened a little and you hopped on your feet. The action seemingly insignificant, but enough to alarm the man leaning against your desk.

“What?” he asked, “Did I say something wrong?”

You shook your head, a wide smile appearing on your face. “No. You said something exactly right.” And with that you were rushing out of the bullpen, in search for the young doctor.

You found him about five minutes later in the file room, too deep in thought to even hear you approach, so he just about jumped out of his skin when you walked up behind him and exclaimed: “The letter E!”

Spencer turned on his heel to face you. Palms of his hands instantly began to sweat when he registered how close you were standing to him.

“W-what?” he managed to breathe.

“It is the beginning of eternity, the end of time and space, the beginning of the end and the end of every space,” you repeated the riddle before adding, “The answer is the letter E and the E is for Elle! Elle told you, didn’t she?!”

Spencer gaped at you for a moment, taking note of the giddy look in your eyes and the proud smile. He then proceeded to inhale a whiff of your perfume which was now overpowering all of his senses.

“Spencer, did Elle tell you?” you enquired, poking his arm, and in turn dragging him back to earth.

The young doctor quickly nodded his head. “Y-yes. She did.”

“Why? I mean… How does that even come up in conversation?” you weren’t angry, no. As far as Spencer could tell you were just curious.

“Because, uhm... She said if I-I knew something... intimate... about you...” he paused and swallowed his breath, “... I would have an easier time asking you out.”

As soon as the confession escaped his lips, he inhaled a sharp breath and waited. Waited for you to tell him you don’t want to go out with him before apologising and walking out, leaving him all alone to wallow. But that never happened.

Instead, your hand was now grasping his, your thumb gently rubbing circles into his burning skin. Spencer’s knees buckled at your touch, and he hoped you didn’t see the slight shake.

“Why didn’t you? Ask me, I mean.” you wondered, breaking the silence.

“B-because I didn’t think you liked me like that.” Spencer replied, exhaling the breath he was holding.

You licked your lips and smiled at the brunette doctor. “Well, I think you should ask me now.”

“Uhm...” he swore if his heart was beating any faster it would explode, which was not entirely impossible, “Y/N, would you- do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

Smiling at him, you leaned upwards and placed your lips to his cheek. You kissed it gently before once again meeting his gaze, “I would love to.”

-

masterlist

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner, @wowitsel, @elldell1204, @hey-there-angels, @reidabookforonce, @willowrose99, @blameitonthenight21

[nightswithkookmin]

A quick lesson on ships

Because why not??😌

No but seriously, bare with me, I'm trying to answer your questions. Sit if you have to. Hehe

Uban Dictionary defines shipping as this:

A term used to describe fan fictions that take previously created characters and put them as a pair. It usually refers to romantic relationships, but it can refer platonic [sic] ones as well. (Just think of “shipping” as short for “relationSHIP”.) 9 Apr 2015

Ships can be platonic or romantic or both.

There's fictional ships and non fictional ships too. You ship two people you want to be in a relationship or who already are in a relationship or who you suspect to be in a relationship- perhaps due to queer baiting, ship baiting, romance baiting etc.

In the shipping fandom, there are two sects of people. Those who are Proships those who are Antiships- antis are ironically considered part of the shipping community because for some reason they are always in shippers business💀

Antishippers are those who oppose a particular ship or shipping in general (more on that later.)

Proshippers are well- Pro ships.

Pro-Ship

A term mostly used in fandoms, but can stretch outside of this to include original characters. The core belief is that shipping two fictional characters, no matter if they are family, share ages gaps, considered to be unhealthy, or show blatant signs of being abusive or other generally unsavory behaviours, are valid in a fictional setting.

Pro-Shippers or "anti-antis" are also known as "rainbow meaties" and will use 🌈 + 🍖 emojis together often in their bio on twitter or other social media platforms- usually within fictional settings.

These shippers reinforce the idea fiction is separate from reality and shouldn't be confused with the other.

‘Anti’ is short for ‘anti-shipper’ or ‘anti-[ship]’.

Kindly read through this thread to get the gist of it.

III

IV

Shipping non-fictional individuals is a subset of Proshipping, in my opinion, known also as alternative shipping- as far as my knowledge on it goes.

As with fictional shipping, alt ships have their antis too. People who disagree with shipping real couples in a romantic way for whatever arbitrary moral reasons they have and who feel entitled to go out of their way to correct, stop, police and punish such shippers.

Then there are those who although may be pro real people shipping think they have the right to tell others how they should ship and to what extent they can ship.

Others too prefer to ship real people platonically because they view romantic shipping of real people as problematic.

So to answer your question on Anon's post- there is no such thing as a Proshipper who is also Anti shipping. Thats oxymoronic. Perhaps they might be platonic shippers who are anti romantic ships but not necessarily romantic shippers themselves.

I don't think there's anything wrong with preferring to ship platonically. It is when they assume by virtue of their false sense of moderacy that they are better than others that shit starts to get funny.

Those shippers are delusionally confused beings with a supremacist imperialist complex rooted in ignorance and absurdities.

I usually walk by those quietly. keep it pushing. Gotta mind my business somehow even though most times I just want to pull their hair and bite them and shit😭

I try to keep it classy.

Lord knows I try.

You are either pro ship or anti ship. There's no in between. Those shippers who are shippers but claim they are not are nothing but fraudulent, fake us, simps trying to bamboozle their way through life- pardon my Swahili.

There are a lot of anti shippers moonlighting as shippers in this fandom. It's fascinating.

Personally I think those people are either confused or their desires to appeal to other Anti shippers must have morphed their brains into ass dick hybrids.

Anti shippers in general are notorious gatekeepers, gaslighters, bigots, high key sanctimonious and often have a cis white westernized sense of morality and ethics through which they fliter others and expect everyone and everything to conform to.

They impose their values on others, their ethics on others, resort to manipulation, policing, intimidation and bullying to impose their will etc.

Within shipping, there are those who are Proshipping yet anti certain ships. Most Tuktukkers are anti Jikook. And assume anyone who isn't a tuktukker is equally anti Tae Kook and so go ahead and exhibit anti behaviours towards them.

Think of such groups of shippers as Proshippers with a preference for particular ships if you will.

There are Pro shippers who also feel some kind of way about Shipping real life people or alt shipping.

Here's further resource to help you understand what proshipping is

If you are intolerant with other shippers choice of ships or style of shipping and you traumatize them for it that's Anti shipping. Especially if you feel entitled and justified to traumatize others because you take a higher moral status over them.

You can be proship and not like how certain people, how they go about

Simply walk away, click off, mind your business. You are not the only adult in these streets and leave people to do what interests them.

I think for as long as I can remember, I've always been a proshipper and I ship both platonically and romantically, fictionally and alternatively💀

Some themes in fiction are a hard limit for me such as the R word, pedophilia, incest, child abuse- I just can never find the entertainment in those topics and will struggle through such themes.

But others believe it's just FICTION and those fictional characters aren't really dealing with the imaginary struggles we read about.

Yall do you sis.

I don't really know why people make a big deal of it or try to demonize the concept of shipping as if it were something strange or mysterious- just keep your moral values to yourself. I am not your mother's daughter. we were not raised in the same households.

Then again I think it all depends on the different cultures and social backgrounds we all come from and how entitled, supremacist or imperialist they are.

For Yoonmin, I shipped them romantically but didn't think they were a real couple at all. I just romanticized their interactions and found humor in it. At the back of my head I was expecting them each to one day find husbands or wives and go their merry ways and even harbored the thought they each could very much be in serious romantic relationships with others.

In similar ways, I shipped Minimoni and Vmin.

You can ship a pair romantically and not think at all that they are actually REAL.

A lot of jokers ship Jikook romantically and don't assume they are real. Just as a lot of people shipped say Elena and Stefan romantically even though Paul was married.

Some shipped Elena and Damon too due to their unscreen chemistry and even felt they could be a thing- that was before later it was revealed they had started dating in real life. Even that I was holding on to my Bonnie x Damon fantasies because Bonnie was my bias and I shipped her with everyone romantically- of course I didn't expect any of those ships to manifest into something because it was the character I was shipping not Kat herself. To this day I still love her onscreen chemistry and friendship with Damon and don't see how people could wish for it to be more than that😭

It was beautiful as is. Not everything should climax into sexual intercourse.

But if I felt at some point any of her ships had crossed into alternative ships I would have jumped on those and supported it whole heartedly.

If you assume a pair are a real couple and dating in real life that's alt shipping- a lot of alt shippers suspect a ship is real and that's why they ship them.

There is no such thing as platonic alt shipping.

And for me personally, because I believe Jikook are a real couple and have made that cross over I don't ship any of that pair romantically with other members anymore.

It's bizzare to me to ship someone I know has a partner romantically with anybody else- I make exceptions for Vmin of course💀

I know JK is side eyeing me but I don't care.

I want Tae to be happy too😭😭😭

Tae just wants his bestfriend and soulmate😭

It's too much😭😭😭😭😭😭

He stays shooting his shots🤣

Jimin Harem is real🤭

I must admit, I catch myself slipping on Vmin and Minimoni every now and then- old habits die hard and they don't make it easy 😫

But that don't mean I think Vmin is dating. THAT WOULD BE WILD.

Summary

Proshippers can be Platonic or Romantic shippers and you can ship a pair romantically and not assume they are real at all.

Anti shippers are just assholes trying to beat their values down people's throats.

Alt shippers don't ship their OTP with other players romantically.

I don't know what you mean by Jinkooker...

Do you ship Jinkook romantically or think they are real?? Sis...

Maybe you just ship them platonically or casually.

I ship all the ships platonically.

Especially all Jimin"s Tae's ships. I'd let my self flirt with the idea of romance every now and then.

JK's ships don't make sense to me as ships.

As nonplatonic ships I mean.

I'm fascinated each time I see a hardcore JK x any member ship besides Jikook swearing up and down JK is screwing Namjoon🤣🤣

I hope this helps??

GOLDY