#this will be a gift to me and you - but only if you choose to accept

[peepeepy]

a lot of people who've watched gravity falls think that stanford is unsympathetic or a bad character, and most of the people who dont think that think stanford is at least selfish and flawed, which i can't really refute, but it always made me feel so awful, and i never realized why until now.

if you look at stanford pines as an allegory for a child with a developmental disability like autism or a "gifted kid", then a lot of the pieces start to fall together.

⚠️spoilers for gravity falls, the website, and maybe a bit of the book of bill⚠️

stanford pines was born with an "extra finger", a symbol for a disability. for a while, everyone thought it was a flaw. he was teased and shunned by his peers,

but then, people began to notice his genius. it even says on thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com, when you enter "sixer" or "stanford", that he has a "hyper-ability", something many people will say about "gifted" autistic people.

as soon as people started to point this out, everything felt like it made sense to ford. as a person who grew up with autism, i can relate to feeling alienated from my peers, and wondering "why? why, in a world made for normal people, was i made wrong?"

that kind of thought can lead to a sort of delusion.. that maybe you were destined for something great. maybe you were different because one day you would use it to change the world. i believe this is the way ford felt when he was approached by bill

bill came to ford and told him everything he'd ever wanted to hear.. that this feeling was real. that he was destined for greatness. that he was better, smarter, more special than the ones who had shunned him.

bill told ford that building the portal would make him a hero, make people finally see him as more than an extra finger. the one problem?

bill was a liar.

he used ford's selfish thoughts to trick him into making a gateway that would end the world. he used the years of mockery, the alienation, the loneliness, and he came to ford when he was alone, trapped, with nowhere to go.

he offered ford the opportunity to get back at a world that was built to knock him down at every turn, a world full of people who would never understand him. he offered to make ford a god.

and ford refused

he refused, even in a world that had done nothing but tear him down, to hurt others just to feel better about himself. he only had a few people who had ever cared for him, and yet, he was willing to destroy his life's work to save everyone who had made him miserable.

remember, he fully intended to stay trapped in the portal for all of eternity. that's why he was so frustrated when stanley brought him back. what we saw as a heroic act from stanley, ford saw as stanley refusing the sacrifice he had made to save him. he didn't thank stanley because nobody thanked him. no one thanked him for his hard work or sacrifice or his years of suffering just to protect stanley.

that, of course, led to this scene, which many people saw as stanford's most frustrating moment.

i think this post sums up really well why stanford, in this dire moment, would choose to insult his brother. because stanley was being selfish, too. stanley refused to help save the world, save his brother, all because ford never said "thank you."

they were both selfish. everyone is. they didn't fight because they were bad people, but because they both saw things from their own perspective. they were each hopelessly lonely without each other, but both too prideful to admit it.

in the end, they make up, and both follow their true dream. not money, not fame, just staying together.

stanford pines is not a bad, unsympathetic character. he is a complex, misdirected, "gifted" child. his only flaw was not seeing that he wasn't alone. his family was right there to support him the whole time.

[felixbit]

i hate to wait so long

pairing: seungmin x gn!reader w. 1.9k genre: fluff summary: your long-distance boyfriend's birthday is coming up but you don't have the funds to visit him this year. surprisingly, seungmin turns up to your door anyways. warnings: reader is a uni student studying abroad a/n: inspired by the lyrics of this song :)

Choosing to study abroad was a good idea in concept. You got to travel and live in another country's culture for a semester as you worked on your degree.

That was, until you got a boyfriend. He lived back at home and you reconnected over old friends when you were first packing to leave. He'd come over to your place and hang out, playing video games and teasing you when you couldn't lift a moving box without help. Not that he could, either.

His name was Seungmin. He asked you out one week before you left for the semester, and it was the best week you'd had in a long time. You spent almost every day together, hanging out and trying new things until you got tired and crashed at each other's places.

When that first week came to a close, you begrudgingly packed up your things. Seungmin drove you to the airport, holding your hand as far into the airport as he could come with you.

It was through a teary-eyed confession from him that revealed he'd never felt closer to someone before than he did with you. He was too scared of saying goodbye and asked to be your boyfriend, even if he was terrified of moving too fast.

When you agreed, he was using his sleeve to rub his eyes and denied ever crying. He told you to have a safe trip and he kissed you for the first time, promising a million more the next time he saw you.

You thought about that moment every day. Sitting at a desk doing work had never felt more dull, especially when you had a perfect boyfriend waiting for you at home. Life abroad wasn't bad, you were loving it, you just missed him more.

Every night, you stayed up to call him and tell him all about your day-to-day. He'd hop on his computer and play video games with you until the sun peeked over the horizon or you resigned to sleep.

When you weren't calling each other, you texted the whole rest of your waking hours. Seungmin would send a plethora of random photos from his day and complain about his band mates while you responded with your own pictures and advice.

It was starting to occur to you how close it was getting to September, which meant Seungmin's birthday was just around the corner. You had already decided on gifts, ready to buy them so they'll be delivered right on time.

But, it dawned on you pretty fast that you didn't have the money to visit. Studying in another country was really expensive and there was only so much time in a day you could work outside of school. Either way, there was no miracle budget to make it possible.

You told him this almost immediately, and he was extremely good about it. He reassured you that it wasn't necessary and he'd make up for all the lost time soon enough when you were done.

The remaining weeks between then had been full of assignments and deadlines coming up, so it snuck up on you. You'd been on a call with Seungmin the night before playing Overwatch when you looked down at the date on your computer.

"What time is it? Lemme- oh, shit." You stopped mid sentence, staring at the date on your computer screen in awe.

Seungmin looked confused, his webcam up on your second screen. "What's wrong? Do I need to back out of the queue?"

"No, no," You shook your head, laughing nervously, "I just saw the date. Your birthday's tomorrow."

"Don't tell me you forgot," Seungmin looked a little dumbfounded.

"I didn't forget, I just.. I've had a lot going on these past few weeks that September kinda went a little too fast."

"It's okay," Seungmin reassured, "I'll forgive you when I get to open the pile of gifts you've been sending me tomorrow morning."

"I wish I could be there to see it," You lamented.

"It's alright. You'll be able to give me them all in person next year, right?"

"Right! Plus, I'll be able to give you Christmas gifts at least."

At that moment, you connected to a game and the topic of conversation switched. The thought of missing his birthday lingered in the back of your mind, but you pushed it away in order to enjoy the night with your boyfriend.

As the night was coming to a close, you made sure to wish him a happy birthday right as the clock rolled over to midnight. It wouldn't be out of the ordinary to stay up another three hours, but Seungmin decided to go to bed early and you followed in his footsteps.

Sleeping was nice. It was one of the times you could see Seungmin. He was almost always there waiting for you with a smile on his face. You could do anything together, just in a fantasy land. Maybe he wasn't really there, but it was enough to keep you going.

That night, you laid with him in bed. Your head was on his chest over a soft sweater as he sung to you. It was the first time in a while you'd dreamed of his room, bringing back all of the fond memories from before you'd left. His posters, guitar sat against his record collection, all his bookshelves. His diary was even on the nightstand beside his bed, true to life.

You almost hated waking up. The world was cruel for taking away the perfect dream it had crafted, but you knew soon enough you'd be in his room again.

Seungmin's birthday fell on a Sunday this year, so you didn't worry too much about waking up early. When you did inevitably get up, you made sure to text him a few more 'happy birthday' messages just in case he forgot about it himself. He was already up, thanking you for the birthday wishes and sending you a photo of his outfit.

It wasn't really his style to be awake and ready this early in the day, but it was his birthday. He has to make the most of his special day, you thought. So, you sent back some compliments and hearts and moved on with your own morning routine.

As you normally would, you kept Seungmin updated through texts on your morning. He wasn't super chatty, but it was to be expected with whatever he had planned. You expected to see a wall of text on what he was up to by the end of the day, but for now it was quiet.

By noon, you had gotten a little concerned, but brushed it off. His family likely had things to do with him, right? Plus, he had to get in some good meals.

It was almost one in the afternoon when you finally heard back from him. Seeing his name on your phone screen gave you an instant feeling of relief.

seungmin: come outside

You heard a knock at your door. The text had you confused, but you followed along. He couldn't be here, right?

Opening the door, there he stood. He was grinning ear-to-ear, shifting around on his feet. "Surprise."

It was on instinct that you threw your arms around him and hugged him with all the weight in your body. His wrapped around you and squeezed you back until you were wincing from the pressure.

"What are you doing here?!" You looked at him dumbfounded, your head spinning.

He looked back at you sheepishly, "I dunno, just thought it'd be cool if I showed up for a birthday surprise?"

"Yeah, but it's your birthday, Seungmin. That's the kind of thing I should be doing on your special day!"

"Well, I knew you didn't have enough to come visit this year, and I made it work! I really didn't want to wait so long to see you again."

You laced your fingers with his and pulled him inside, and that's when the explanation started.

Seungmin had first come up with the idea to come visit on his birthday almost a month prior when he first learned you couldn't come see him. He'd booked a flight out and made sure there wasn't any huge exams around the day.

That morning, he'd gotten up at six just to get ready and look good in time to catch his flight. He'd sent you photos he'd taken earlier when he was sitting in the airport, hoping it didn't look too suspicious.

The absence in texts was his flight over. It wasn't super long, but it was enough that he worried you'd catch onto his plan. From there, he'd gathered his stuff as quickly as he could and grabbed a ride over to your place.

After his story, you made sure to get him some food and snacks, which you happily enjoyed together as he turned on a show. He got a small tour of your student accommodation after the first episode before revealing that he had some plans set up.

Seungmin had made lunch reservations at a place not too far off campus and wanted to take you on a walk there. Of course, you said yes.

The entire way there, Seungmin refused to let go of your hand. He'd swing it along with your steps, chattering on about what was happening and the music he was making. But, no matter what, his fingers were locked with yours.

That was the fun part: Seungmin wasn't usually a big talker. He'd have lots of input to give when you would talk to him, but he wasn't super into initiating his own discussions. Today was different.

So as you walked down the cracked pavement of the sidewalks, your attention was grabbed by your chatty boyfriend. You got to engage with a lot of what he was saying, but it was nice to just walk and listen to him ramble.

Everything seemed more lively. The birds had their own chorus, the grass looked greener, and there were less loud cars blaring their music. By the time you were coming up on the lunch spot, you found your heart contented with the day already, even if you'd only been with Seungmin less than two hours.

"Minnie?" You squeezed his hand softly as you waited at a sidewalk.

Seungmin turned towards you with a smile on his face. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for coming and seeing me," You felt your face flush a little at the thought, "I really don't know how I could've waited any longer without you."

Your boyfriend's big grin couldn't be contained as he let out a quiet laugh. "I don't think I could've waited, either. You've been in my dreams too much lately, and it's been driving me crazy not having you here."

"You see me in your dreams, too?" You asked, recalling the one from the previous night, "It's kind of infuriating, isn't it? It feels so perfect and then it's taken away so quick."

"Yeah, I just couldn't wait another day without having you here with me," Seungmin stopped as you crossed to the other side of the street before pulling you into a hug, "I had to hold you like this for real."

"You're such a dork."

Seungmin snickered as he pulled away from the hug and gave you a quick, yet tender kiss. His lips were soft and tasted sweet, making you miss them the second they were gone. "For you. The rest of the world doesn't matter to me."

"Today really has you in a sentimental mood, huh?" You pulled him in for another kiss, making sure it lasted longer. "Happy birthday."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go get lunch before you make out with me on the street."

[syndrossi]

And now for a continuation of what I'm calling the Rescue AU aka "what if Ser Thoren successfully extracted the boys from the Gates of the Moon?" Part 1 and premise can be found here. It ended pretty abruptly, and so we pick up pretty abruptly! This one has a more proper "end" to it, though it's not finished.

x~x~x

“May we go to the market on River Row?” Rhaegar asked. He seemed to pick up on Daemon’s surprise at the request, adding, “Laenor mentioned it before. He said they have all manner of wares from within the realm, and even from across the Narrow Sea.”

“We may,” Daemon said, warmed by the pleased smile he received in response. “Do you seek anything in particular?”

He had presented them with gifts for three of their name days thus far, but that still left five. And some of his other planned gifts would not be ready for months. Any insight into what his children enjoyed was sorely welcome. They spent so little time at play, too serious about their studies.

“Princess Rhaenyra said that your name day is in less than three moons,” Rhaegar said, smile turning stern. “So you must not look if we choose something for you.”

Daemon had not celebrated his name day in nearly a decade, other than alone with Caraxes and one of the few barrels of good wine that made it on occasion to the Stepstones by way of Driftmark. His last true celebration had been a pleasant supper with Viserys, Aemma, and Rhaenyra, followed by a drunken night of debauchery in Flea Bottom that had earned his brother’s disapproval in the morning upon hearing of it.

It had been only two moons after Viserys had quietly taken him aside and “suggested” that he take Lord Beesbury as an advisor in his yet-new position of master of coin. Daemon had known the true source of the suggestion: Otto Hightower. Daemon had been only three moons in the office and still learning its scope; bringing in the former master of coin to all but do his job for him had been clearly intended to undermine him by implying he could not manage on his own.

That was the one office Daemon had resigned from before his brother could directly dismiss him, as he made a habit of. That had been before he’d realized just how short his leash would be for any office while Otto Hightower whispered in his ear simultaneously of Daemon’s immaturity and ambition.

A hand squeezed his, jolting him from his thoughts. “Father?” It was Rhaegar’s voice, gentle with concern, rather than stilted as it could sometimes be when addressing him.

Daemon smoothed wisps of light hair from his son’s forehead, then rested his hands on either cheek, heart a jumbled mess between the sentiment and the barest trace of wariness that lurked in his eyes whenever Daemon behaved in a way he did not expect. He kissed his brow, vowing that one day Rhaegar would come to expect only love at the hands of family, rather than the cold indifference—or worse—he had suffered under the Royce household.

“You can give me no greater gift than your company that day,” he said, transferring a hand to Jon’s cheek as well.

Jon gave a solemn nod. “But if I wrap Rhaegar to leave outside your door, who will wrap me?”

Daemon nearly choked on his laugh, the humor entirely unexpected. His eldest was quite sneaky in that regard, though both had a similarly clever wit. He feared for whoever might earn their wrath once they reached adolescence.

“Would you like a small purse apiece for the market, then?” he asked. “So that you are spared solving such a riddle?”

“There is no need,” Rhaegar said, revealing a bulging purse beneath his jacket. “Uncle Viserys gave us an allowance for it.”

“That was very generous of him,” Daemon said, smiling to mask a sudden flood of resentment at the reminder that nothing that he had to offer them was his own. It was all through Viserys and the royal treasury. He had no holding of his own to build an income, nor would he.

Curious stares followed them through the streets, news of the strange circumstances of his sons’ birth having traveled beyond the court. Laenor had informed him with great enthusiasm that a troupe of mummers were at work on a new play with a working title of “The Hidden Princes and the Witch of Runestone.”

If his sons were uneasy with the attention, they did not show it, more fascinated by the sights and sounds of the city. I should have taken them out sooner, Daemon thought fondly. There was a minstrel at one corner, playing the lute outside of a tavern to lure travelers in, and Rhaegar’s head tilted a moment, listening, before his eyes brightened. He hurried over, Daemon and Jon a few steps behind, and joined the minstrel in his song, his higher pitch shifting into an effortless harmony.

The minstrel looked startled by the sudden accompaniment, and even perhaps dismayed to find himself outperformed by a small child, but his eyes took in Daemon as he approached, and the princely attire his sons were wearing—as well as the growing crowd, drawn by the unusual spectacle as well as the sweetness of the song—and the man seemed to then accept the situation as one of good fortune.

Daemon smiled as he watched Rhaegar, enjoying his son’s obvious joy at an excuse to sing. The song was familiar to him, one of a wandering hedge knight in search of a maiden he had spied bathing in the moonlight and fallen in love with, but rendered nearly haunting with the addition of Rhaegar’s voice, which made it into a duet of man and maiden.

At the final verse, the minstrel made as though to bow, only for Rhaegar to continue on alone for another four, and the tale went from one of happy reunion to bittersweet loss as the maiden revealed the true reason she had evaded the hedge knight’s pursuit: the waters had told her that when she found love at last, they would have but a year before death claimed them.

There were very few dry eyes in the crowd at the song’s conclusion, and there was a light ache in his own throat, but the ending seemed to upset Jon in particular, so Daemon wrapped him up in his arms. “It is only a song.”

“If he had not gone after her, they both would have lived,” Jon said into his abdomen.

“Perhaps so,” Daemon murmured, stroking fingers through his hair as he pondered why the song had touched him so. Elys and Corwyn had died two years after the twins’ birth, and his sons had thought them their parents most of their lives. Rhea’s death was still fresh for them as well, he supposed. “But the life of a hedge knight is not without peril. Perhaps he would have found death another way.”

Jon frowned, not liking that response, and Daemon sighed, releasing him. “Come, let us collect your brother from his admirers.”

The minstrel was splitting his attention between collecting the shower of coin that had fallen at the song’s conclusion and interrogating his son on where he had heard the additional verses.

“From a harpist who wandered through the Gates of the Moon,” Rhaegar said, beginning to look uncomfortable.

Daemon quickly moved into the man’s view, fixing him with a look that halted further questioning.

“My prince,” the minstrel said, bowing with a flourish. “What an honor to have the privilege of sharing a song with your son.”

“Indeed,” Daemon said, beckoning Rhaegar back to his side. “I suggest you content yourself with your good fortune.”

“I am sorry,” Rhaegar said once they were away from the gathered crowd, flicking anxious glances in Daemon’s direction. “I did not mean to—”

“Nonsense,” Daemon said firmly. “You may sing whenever you like. You upstaged that minstrel and he knew it.”

Rhaegar moved to walk at Jon’s side, whispering something quiet to him—another apology, perhaps? Jon shrugged, the motion stiff, but he summoned a small smile in response. Fortunately, the distraction of River Row seemed to take their minds off the matter. The street stank of fish, and was awash in colorful stalls loudly peddling their goods.

They were not even at the market square yet, and he had to corral them back within reach several times with stern warnings of pickpockets and unsavory characters who grew in number as Aegon’s Hill grew more distant.

The chaos was nigh unmanageable by the time they reached the market. They still drew glances, Daemon’s hair and attire—and Dark Sister at his side—making his identity plain. But the people in the market were here for one of two purposes: to sell or be sold to. They kept their gawking to sideways glances for the most part, aside from one very bold hand that curiously reached for his hair before being swatted aside.

The strong scent of cooked meat and vegetables from the side of the market that served tempting dishes that could be held in one’s hand to eat while walking covered up the worst of the encroaching smell of raw fish and nearby sewage. There were sweeter fares as well, including a stall that spun sugar into elaborate shapes to cool and be sold.

The peddlers’ calls grew particularly loud whenever they were noticed, to the point where Jon was beginning to look overwhelmed. Daemon was not without his own tension. Every voice that carried an accent from the Free Cities, and especially the occasional spoken Valyrian, transported him back to the crush and throng of the Stepstones.

They eventually reached a portion of the market that was less frantic, where he was no longer touching four different bodies at once, and Daemon slowly relaxed. The boys went from stall to stall with Daemon looking on a few steps back, moving with them. Occasionally they would lean in for hushed discussion, dark hair against light, then turn to him in unison with appraising eyes before resuming their conversation.

Daemon had no idea what they would decide upon for gifts, but he was greatly looking forward to finding out what they had deemed worthy. They had found something at the present stall, which seemed to be an assortment of leather goods ranging from cow’s hide to more exotic sources.

Jon looked back toward him. “Turn around,” he ordered. “She has to finish making it and then wrapping it.”

Daemon gamely turned away. “Tell me when it is safe to look.”

He contented himself with scanning the rest of the current extension of the market, occasionally meeting the quickly averted gaze of an onlooker startled to be caught. That was nothing he wasn’t accustomed to when walking about openly, though years ago in Flea Bottom, the denizens had come to view his frequent presence among them as something to be expected. When he truly wished to walk about without fuss, he went cloaked and hooded.

A startled cry rang out back toward the portion of the market they had just left, and Daemon glanced that way to see that one of the food stalls had caught flame. He could make out the shouts for water, and a few nearby peddlers flapped with cloth at the fire, seeking to smother it. It seemed to only inflame it somehow, the fire almost dancing from one stall to another, which then caught.

Daemon recognized in the louder murmurs of the crowd the sound of unease yielding to panic, his own alarm growing with it. Panic was unpredictable, and the crowd would seek whatever outlet they thought offered safety, willing to trample whoever got in their way.

He turned back to the stall, ready to sweep his children up and leave before the chaos reached them, only to find the stall empty and his sons nowhere in view. His mind blanked with incomprehension for a moment, breath catching in his throat, and he closed the distance to the stall in an instant, looking around wildly. His sons were nowhere to be seen, but there was a woman’s body in rapidly pooling blood slumped at the other side of the stall.

No. Daemon’s hand closed around Dark Sister’s hilt, an icy fear flooding his veins. He took a deep breath to call for them, only to freeze at the sudden prick of something sharp and metal against his back.

“Quiet,” a voice said behind him, soft and unaccented. “Do you wish to see your sons?”

“Where are they?” Daemon asked, holding perfectly still. He might be quick enough to move before the man behind him sunk his blade in, but he did not know if there were more. There must be, to have taken his sons away. “What do you want?”

“If you do as I say, I shall take you to them. Fight, and you will never see them again.” The man waited, as though to see if he intended to put up a struggle. “Remove your hand from your blade.”

Daemon stared forward, paralyzed by indecision. He could mean to kill me anyway. This may be intended to buy time so that they may take the boys further out of reach.

But what could he—or they—even want? If it was ransom they sought, then the more captives, the better. If it was revenge, they would have killed his sons, and Daemon after.

“That dragon blood of yours is worth a great deal,” the voice said with a hint of impatience. “But only balanced against the trouble you might cause. Remove your hand.”

Ransom, then. Daemon clutched that hope to his chest and released his grip on Dark Sister. His hand was grabbed and twisted behind his back, firmly but not painfully so, and he was guided between stalls, out of view. Then, something smooth and rounded was pressed into his hand.

“Drink this.”

The shouts in the market square had grown louder, and the wind was beginning to blow smoke in their direction. Daemon had spotted the occasional gold cloak earlier, but there were none to be seen now, the men likely moving to seek control of the fire or the crowd. There were far more pressing things for the people milling about the market to pay attention to than a prince tucked just out of view, a blade to his back.

“What is it?” Daemon asked, though he could guess. If it was not poison, then it was something intended to dull the senses and render him easy to move without struggle.

“Drink,” the man repeated. “Or I spill that royal blood onto the cobblestone, which would be a shameful waste.”

Daemon brought the bottle into view, its milky glass obscuring its contents save for a faintly darker line where the liquid within sloshed. A tiny cork served as a stopper.

I cannot see them again if I am sliced open in River Row.

Ransom could be paid. Daemon knew that Viserys would not hesitate on his behalf or his sons’, whatever objections Otto might raise.

He brought the cork to his teeth, and pulled it loose, then tipped the liquid back. He held it in his mouth for a few seconds, debating whether he could feign swallowing, but a hand closed over his lips and pinched his nostrils shut until he swallowed, at which point it moved to grip his right arm again. The man made no move to lead him anywhere, seeming content to wait for the potion to take its effect.

“You have not hurt them?” Daemon asked, unable to keep the desperation from his voice.

“They are not harmed,” the man said with a hint of amusement. “Though I cannot say the same for some of the others. I did warn them about Jon.”

A dizziness rolled over Daemon, followed by a heaviness that came in waves that settled deeper each time. At last he was prodded forward, and it took all his concentration to put one foot ahead of the other. Then another. Then—

[sagekiosk]

🐍🐙🏹

Jamil, Azul, Rook x Reader — Yandere — Angst — TWST

You guys ; NOOOO SAGE,, ANGST AGAIN!?!?

Me ; you eat whats on your plate >:(( Hope this will feed you guys for the time being while I’m making the other fics, this is just a silly gift for @plumipal !! hope you enjoy plumi.

FOR THOSE WHO ARE CONFUSED ON WHATS THE PROMPT!! Check out Plumipals' yan twst tattoo au. Then this could probably more sense!

Also probably OOC??

TW;; Aww angst :((, pfft no I’m not biased w jamil, DEESSPPERATE BOYS, Jamil crying, Sad Azul, Emotionless(?) Rook, all of them hating on the tattoo, Bad grammar?, Rook watching you sleep, Rook's part is a bit short maybe.

JAMIL VIPER 🐍

That damn tattoo.. that stupid tattoo. He hates it so much, he hates it so so bad. Why? Why did you have to put that stupid thing on you?

And what’s even worse is that it’s because of HIS overblot. It’s because of him that you got that horrible mark on your wrist.

It’s all he can think about, all he can think about is that tattoo. He feels like he’s going crazy, like he’s about to overblot.

again.

He just can’t take it, he can’t! It’s always on his mind. You looked so happy, smiling, when you confirmed that you had that tattoo. You even showed it to him as if it was the greatest decision you made..

He just wishes that oh so beautiful smile was engraved in his brain. And not that horrible tattoo.

Poor Jamil, he can’t sleep at all. His eye bags are so visible under his eyes. He couldn't eat properly either, he couldn't bring himself to stand up and get fresh air. Whats even more annoying is that Kalim has been questioning if he's fine

Jamil just simply scoffed and told him he was fine. But really he wasn’t, you probably hate him don’t you? You probably despise him to the point where you don’t wanna see him.

Well actually, you don’t, he just can’t bear to see you. Whenever he does all he can focus on is the tattoo on your wrist. It pains him so bad for being the reason of it.

Seeing you would just make him cry right on the spot, he feels so worthless and horrible.

He couldn’t take it anymore, so he started to avoid you. Like that was a good idea..

It just only made things worse than they were before, Jamil also came to a realization that he can’t live another day without seeing you.

Yes, he does hate the fact that he’s the reason you got the tattoo. But he also hates the fact of not being able to be with you. He wants to spend every second of his life with you.

Literally like a week later you were met face to face with a Jamil who looked so close to crying. He looked like a wreck, unlike the usual stoic and independent Jamil you’re used to seeing.

"Y/n.." he called out to you his eyes stuck on the ground.

"Jamil.." You answered him. How did it get this bad? You put your hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? I haven't seen you all week.. and now you suddenly appear in front of me looking like a mess.. no offense.”

Jamil balled up his fists, the hand that you put on his shoulder was the same hand where the tattoo was in. He hated it. He shut his eyes tightly wanting the image of that tattoo out of his brain.

"Jamil?" you called out for him once more.

Opening his eyes, now staring at you directly into your eyes. You could see the tears threatening to fall.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry Y/n." he stammered "Please don't hate me."

"Jamil- why would I-"

"That tattoo.. it was because of me, its my fault isn't it? You despise me don't you." sniffling he grabs your other hand gently pushing the other one off of his shoulder.

He pulls your hand up to his face, your palm cupping his cheek. "I need you Y/n, I need you to love me as much as I do. I'm not second to those two right?" he continued tears slowly falling down his cheeks a smile creeping up his face.

It wasn’t because of happiness though.

"I'll be better, I promise, I'll make sure I change- anything you want from me, its yours. Just please.. please choose me."

AZUL ASHENGROTTO 🐙

When he first heard about the tattoo he couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it! You surely haven't marked yourself with those' idiots symbols, right?

You wouldn't.. yeah! Those rumours are just rumours. Theres a big chance they aren't true anyway. He would only believe them if he see's it for himself!

So for the first few days he was fine.. still overthinking. But he's just being paranoid! It's just a thing that.. will simply pass.

That was until he couldn't take it anymore. He needed to silence those thoughts, they were so noisy. He invites you into Mostro Lounge's VIP room.

He asks about the tattoo and you confirm the rumours were true. You even had the audacity to roll up your sleeve and show it off proudly.

Fucking ouch, he felt his heart shatter at that point. He wishes that he just let those voices in his head be.

"I- I see, good to know you have.. such amazing friends." he spoke bitterly with a smile. shit- he stuttered.. hope you didn't notice it..

He clears his throat, are tears forming in his eyes? He has to hold it in.. He can't look like a loser. Not in front of you..

He asks you to leave.. which he rarely does. His excuse being that he has a lot of work to do. But actually, he just wants to lock himself up and never go out again.

When you leave the tears start flowing. His elbow on his desk, while his fingers massage his temple. The papers on his desk were getting soggy, but he doesn’t care.

He could recover those papers but it would probably take so much for you to remove those stupid tattoos. Do you hate him? He thought that you and him already made up from his overblot..

He's been stuck in his office for such a long time. He's put Jade in charge for now. He needs time for himself…

The longer hes stuck in there the more he thinks about that horrid tattoo. It's stuck in his mind, and it’s torturing him. He can't let anyone else see this. He can't allow anyone to see him as a stupid little crybaby.

He just wants to sink back into his octopot..

But then an idea pops in his head.. he should think of ways to maybe, earn your favor and get his own tattoo too. Thats the perfect idea!

He tries to make up a contract but all of his ideas go to the trash. They're all so horrible! No way you'd sign these..

They're just not perfect enough for you! Most of them seem childish.. and probably stupid. If he gave one of these to you then you'd probably see him as an idiot!

"No.. no.. no..! None of these contracts are good enough!" he crumpled up the contract he was holding it and threw it into the pile across the room.

How isn't he enough for you!? Why did you have to choose those two! He's- He's your friend too right? He'll do anything for you!

So why.. why did you just have to get a tattoo of them?

He starts crying again, how many times has he cried? He's not sure. He continues to sob covering his face with his eyes.

"Prefect would never love a stupid octopus like me.."

ROOK HUNT 🏹

He stares down at your sleeping figure, your tattooed wrist exposed right in front of him. What is that, mon amour? A tattoo?

Oh! how beautiful, why hasn't he heard you talking about it though?

Oh well, at least hes the first one to see it. He bends down smiling inspecting the tattoo closer.

It reminds him of something.. no actually, someone- hold on, Deuce and Ace?

..Did you seriously get a tattoo of them? W-well, its beautiful! The beauty of friendship is truly amazing. Your bond between Ace and Deuce is truly something!

But why did you have to mark your skin with those symbols though? Couldn't it be something better? Like his name, or maybe something that reminds you of him..

He's your friend too isn't he? So why didnt you get a tattoo for him too?.. He's done so much to make you happy!

He's always tried to keep you safe too.. And to always give you gifts and appreciate for the things you have done when nobody did.

So why didn't you get a tattoo of him too?

Yes he knows! Ace and Deuce have been there longer than him.. But he could treat you better than they ever could..

...

he isn't sure how to feel about this.

So for that night he leaves early going back to pomefiore.

For the next few weeks you notice that Rook has been really silent. You dont feel like anyone's watching you either.

You haven't heard Rook's praises about love in a while either.. so something must be wrong with him. You invite him to Ramshackle so you could help him cheer up.

Rook is oh so grateful, he would be singing praises about your generosity if he wasn't so down at the moment. Rook needs you. Rook wants you to like him to the point you'd get him a tattoo of him also.

Rook finds himself laying his head on your lap his arms wrapped around your waist while kneeling on the ground. You gently run your fingers through his soft silky blonde hair.

Rook sniffled and looked up at you, and you could see a single tear form in his eye.

"My heart yearns for your favor, mon amour. I wish to be as loved as much as you love Monsieur Heart and Monsieur Spade. But It seems that you haven't noticed that yet." he whispered, his voice hoarse.

You tilted your head to the side slightly. You didn’t hear him clearly and ask him to repeat what he said.

He would’ve, but he just doesn’t feel like answering so he looked away from your eyes. You understood and went back to patting him gently.

He takes a deep breath in burry his head back into your stomach. "You’re so cruel, yet I still love you. The things I do for love." The things he does for you. He would do anything for you.

"I've never let anyone see me in this vulnerable state.” You’re so cruel, but he will still love you. No matter what, he will wait for you to love him back.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

BAM DONE. I had a little fun writing this honestly, silly little break. Thanks for reading up to this point. Sorry for the grammatical errors..

[o-sachi]

─── Sachi's Selfship Event ✦

Heya, here's my event for my 500 followers milestone. It's been fun writing my silly thoughts and sharing it on this blog. Thanks for all the support y'all have given me. But, as I've mentioned in my last post, I'll start writing on a different blog.

✦ The Event ───

Basically, you tell me about your selfship and I give you a set of headcanons based on the SFW alphabet (see content under the cut for the alphabet). For moots and followers that I recognize, I’ll do 10 letters. For everyone else, 8 letters. And for anons, 6 letters.

For fandoms, please keep it within Blue Lock, Wind Breaker, Mashle, and Kaiju no. 8!

✦ Instructions ───

Send me an ask containing the following: your chosen character, your chosen letters, your likes & dislikes, love languages (receiving and giving), hobbies, interests, basic description of your appearance, picrews, random facts, some of your own lore about your selfship, etc. —literally everything that can help me write a more accurate set of headcanons

* Since some people might not be comfortable sharing their info, I’ll keep the asks in my inbox and tag you on your post instead. But if you’re on anon, I have no choice but to answer the ask.

✦ Rules ───

1. Do not rush me with your request. If you’ve sent me an ask, I’ve definitely read it.

2. Only one selfship per person!

3. Do not include any nsfw information in the ask that you will send me.

Note: Depending on the amount of asks I get, I might not be able to fulfill all of them. Of course, moots and followers take priority!

Fulfilled Letters !

✉️: Letter for Lumi ✉️: Letter for Candy ✉️: Letter for Amy ✉️: Letter for Rye

Check under the cut for the letters you can choose from ~

These are just general descriptions for each letter, but based on the info you'll give me, I can delve into it deeper and provide stuff beyond what is written here.

A - Affection How do they show their affection for you? Do they get bouts of cuteness aggression?

B - Best Quality What they think is/are your best quality/ies and why

C - Comfort How do they comfort you when you're sad and down?

D - Dates What kind of dates do you two like to go on? How frequent?

E - Early Relationship How did you two get together? What was it like when you were just first starting out?

F - Fights What do you usually fight over? Do you quarrel often? How do things get resolved? Who says sorry first?

G - Gifts Their favorite gift that they got from you or a gift they've given to you. Do they like receiving gifts? If so, what kinds?

H - Hugs Are they a hugger? What kinds of hugs do they prefer? What about cuddling?

I - Intimacy What makes you feel connected at a deeper level? What kind of romance do you have?

J - Jealousy How jealous are they? How do they deal with it?

K - Kisses How do they kiss you? Do they like kissing?

L - Laughter What are your inside jokes? What do you usually laugh about together? Who's funnier?

M - Memories What is your most cherished memory together?

N - Nicknames Do they like nicknames? If so, what do they like to be called or what do they call you?

O - Other People What do other people think about your relationship? (Family, friends, co-workers, etc.)

P - Patience How patient are they? Who's the more patient one between the two of you? What happens if they lose their patience?

Q - Quirks What are some quirks you adopted from each other? Or what are the quirks that only come out when you're together?

R - Rituals What are some things in your routines that you like to do together? Is it common or unusual? How frequent is it? Is it a daily, weekly, or annual thing?

S - Support How do they show their support for your hobbies and interests? How involved are they?

T - Time Apart How do you spend your time apart? Who caves first? Who handles it better?

U - Uniqueness What sets you apart from other couples?

V - Values What are your shared values?

W - Wildcard Random headcanon about your relationship

X - XOXO What are the little things that they do for you? Do you notice them or maybe they go unnoticed?

Y - Yin & Yang How do you complement each other? How do you make them a better person? Or how do you make them happier? Are you two opposites or are you more similar to each other?

Z - Zrandom (sorry ran out of ideas, forgive me) Pick a theme or any topic and I'll make a headcanon for it :)

Again, for moots and followers that I recognize, I’ll do 10 letters. For everyone else, 8 letters. And for anons, 6 letters.

[thefandomlesbian]

House told Wilson to find one piece of furniture, just one piece, that he actually liked and truly wanted in their new home, the condo they'd gotten together.

Wilson spent all day in a furniture store and couldn't find anything. He paid a decorator to fill their home with furniture that looked decent and was comfortable. But he did buy one piece that wasn't the decorator's choice.

Wilson bought House an organ. He bought a piece of furniture that he, alone, has absolutely no use for, but one that House can use to fill their home with music. One that will not only bring House joy but will allow him to share in it. House challenged Wilson to buy one piece of furniture he truly wanted, and Wilson chose something that literally represents House's presence in their home.

[jamiesfootball]

I wish you would write a fic where..

Jamie becomes the captain - I'd love to see him in that kind of leadership role where he has to be responsible for other people (that's why I'd also like to see him become a coach someday) or

Jamie wins some kind of award so I can see Roy and the rest of his family be proud of him :))

In the hours since you have sent this to me, I have devised a fic that somehow combines both of these things -- but in a way that no one but me has ever asked for.

How do we feel about Jamie winning a Webby?

At age thirty-three, Jamie Tartt takes a bad tackle on his right ankle, slamming the door on a career that’s been nothing less than show stopping. He takes the news that he’ll never play again like a champ--which is to say he takes it better than Roy did—and only spends a week sobbing into Roy’s couch cushion that his life is over. On the eighth day, he clomps and crutches his way into the kitchen. He fires up the live feed on whatever app he’s obsessed with now. With three days worth of stubble and bags under his eyes from crying, he announces to the world at large that he’s about to try, ‘Every damn TikTok recipe that I've missed out on because it's been outside of my meal plan for the past twenty-fucking-years.’ And so his new career as ‘obnoxious wastrel who tries to burn down Roy kitchen’ is born.

[mushroom-for-art]

Hi @bluejay-flies, I hope this isn't weird but I saw about your Aurorus mewtwo fusion fav and struggles and thought well hey I've been drawing a lot of mewtwo designs including fusions, I could draw you a little something and uh then I went hog wild with color options for you, the design is completely yours and you can pick whichever color version you want! (hell mix the colors and such I don't mind!)

Of course if these aren't really the vibe and you're not a fan of the design that's completely okay there's no obligation to accept and I won't take offence I had fun and got to do a fun drawing exercise either way :)

[quantum-chromo-dynamics]

I hate finding the coolest stuff while I'm on vacation because I can't take anything home with me and I rarely bring enough money with me.

Just today I went into some library and they had both art books for into the spiderverse and no way home and a figurine of doc ock.

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Olena's Summit is on September 6 ... 😏

[grapeskeeto]

big fan of aromantic kinitopet as an aro individual. now how do I reconcile that with selfshipping with him

[pepprs]

my mom isn’t letting my dad go back to his office bc him being out of the house stresses her out and makes her have a flare up and it’s like kind of insane. like i understand why the idea of him doing that would make her panicky and angry as someone who also struggles w separation anxiety and abandonment shit / has physical symptoms from that kind of stress (though not to the same degree ofc) but also he is a grown man. he should be allowed to go to his office and not have to shape his entire life around her needs. and she keeps guilt tripping him out of it and it’s impacting his quality of life a lot and the whole thing is kind of… hm

[unopenablebox]

should my next Big Knitting Project be lace shawl 2 or sweater

if sweater: i have a sweater in progress from a thousand years ago that i could pick back up. pro: have and like pattern and yarn. already have a front and a sleeve. con: only about 70% that i made a front and not a back would need to investigate. only about 60% that i definitely wrote down the needle size. would have to reswatch to find out if my tension changed since 2019.

while i still like that sweater i'm really most motivated by the idea of making sweater for 🌸 but it adds a lot of stakes to pattern selection since they don't actually have maximal introspective access to their own clothing taste. and also i have not made a lot of garments in the past and it might require a lot of reknitting to get it to a gift quality im happy with, which unfortunately given my Disability is a really severe setback if my goal is "eventually make finished objects". not that that's my only goal but i do care about it somewhat

lace shawl meanwhile is mostly motivated by the fact that i am super high on the joy of beading and lace rn. which is a very good reason to do it, but i truly truly do not know what i would possibly do with second lace shawl. dont even know if 🌸 will like wearing the first one yet.

[tonictransistor]

I hate when my family involves me in groupchats

I get even more annoyed when I seem to be the only one actually reading all the messages sent to said chat 🤦🏾‍♀️

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[stealchain]

the meaning of life is to love ☺️🫶