#trying to limit the scope of these lmao

[soupsandstars]

Request: Hulk/Green Scar and Caiera giving Skaar and Hiro-kala a hug. Maybe as a better end for them?

[diejager]

bro make a fanfic about the reader and the ghost/konig WHEN THE READER WAS SHOT IN THE BUN ON THE MISSION AHAHAHHHAH LMAO (in the military helicopter when they were supposed to return, the reader was holding her butt, moaning, writhing in pain and trying to hide the pain)

That is a funny thought…

Shots Cw: gun violence, bb shots, tell me if I missed any.

You yelped when you were hit is the ass, flinching forward and raising your arm just as you turned to glare at whoever landed the shot. Your right cheek exploded in soreness, tingling from the sharp pain of a BB shot.

“Hit!” You called it, letting your rifle hang from your shoulder as you rubbed your right cheek, grumbling about the bastard, “On my fucking ass of all places.”

You walk towards the respawn with your arm up, still cussing out whoever shot you in the ass. You had a hunch about the shooter: Soap, who else had enough courage to shoot you in the ass. You doubted Gaz did it, he might’ve been tempted, but he preferred other type of pranks, more mischievous ones like tampering with the washer or drinks, harmless but hilarious. Soap, however, rarely knew the limit, going as far as stealing and hiding your stuff, tapping you in the ass or messing up your head while he cackled away, speeding off to Ghost or Price to escape your wrath.

You reasoned that this was a staged scenario, a small group activity Laswell came up with that landed your Task Force somewhere in France for game of airsoft, a Free for all in the reserved location. No one had complained, thinking it a good activity mixing fun, training and awareness —everyone agreed to it enthusiastically once Ghost had voiced his grumpy acceptance, seeing this as a moment to be able to training without the prying eyes of others or the presence of strangers. Once you reached the spawn point, your jump back in to land a few shots at Soap to see whether or not he liked getting his ass bruised by a BB. You walked off determined, mind narrowed down to a single goal, your retaliation—

Until you yipped a second time, a pellet bouncing off your second cheek. You whipped around, yelling as your eyes scoured the tree line and the openings in the buildings behind you, the windows, the roof and behind pillars. You couldn’t find Soap anywhere, he wasn’t hiding behind the trees or in the buildings, but you did catch the glint of a scope —a familiar sniper scope.

“Ghost, you son of a bitch!” You screamed in outrage, feeling how both cheeks throbbed with pain. You bared your teeth, hissing at your Lieutenant who seemed smug and comfortable in his high perch on the roof of the building, “Why’d you do that?! I was already out!”

”Big target, luv,” his amused voice cracked in your comm, the low rumble of sadistic pleasure ringing out in your headgear. He cocked his scope, his white mask standing starkly in his dark gear and broad figure, “Impossible to miss. Quit moaning.”

“Big target? Are you-!” Huffing at his continued laughter, you glared his way before you turned to hurry back to the respawn, “Let’s see who’s laughing later, you ass.”

“Fuck- Hit!”

Your shoulders shook with restrained laughter, admiring the way Ghost jumped from your perch, hidden in the darkness given by the cement wall. You listened to him hiss and swear, massaging the place you aimed for: the pronounced curve of his ass, his jeans rarely doing him the pleasure of hiding what he had.

“Quit moaning, Ghost,” you cackled as you parroted his words, telling him the same thing as he told you, but you had more to add, more to taunt and tease him as revenge, “Couldn’t miss it, Lt, it was a big fucking target.”

You watched him stomp off, retreating to the tree line for his spawn point. It filled with a sense of elation and ugly smugness, and all that was left now, was to find Soap.

“Steamin’ Jesus!” Johnny’s yelp felt more exciting than Ghost, something you could devour over and ove without regret.

“Not so fun, is it, Johnny?” You smirked, replying with a gleeful tone.

He looked red-faced, the tip of his ears turning a bright shade of red from the way you spoke to him, utilising his known weakness and playing him to watch him stutter and flush brightly.

“Awa’ a bile yer heid! That hurt, lass!” His voice had taken a whinier tone, face screwed in embarrassment and something that you couldn’t put your finger on at this distance.

“I know, shouldn’t have shot me in the ass then.”

Gaz tapped you on the shoulder, a smile threatening to break into chuckles. He’d known what happened to you and knew what you did in retaliation, finding amusement after siding with you, sitting beside you and peering at two frowning and mumbling men.

“Heard you had a lot of fun.”

“Not enough.”

You thought you heard Price sigh tiredly.

taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx

[webslingingslasher]

taylor swift song request lesgooo!!! end game from reputation where y/n has a really big reputation as a 'bad girl' and peter (good boy loml) ends up tutoring her, and sees she isn't all bad...

first off, i am so sorry this took so long, you may not even be on my page anymore, but this struck something in me & i couldn't stop.

second, i switched up the request a little because if you listen to the song, (in a non snooty way lmao) taylor is the one expressing she wants to be with this person but she has a bad repuation and everyone's heard about it, and it's a lot to commit to because of the talk surrounding her.

---------

Everyone had it wrong. 

You were good. And kind. And smart. And talented. And confused. And lost. And just like every other kid in the school. You were good. You stayed to yourself. You didn’t gossip. You didn’t judge. You didn’t tattle. You were good. 

So why did everyone hate you so much? 

It was your brother’s fault. His reputation preceded yours and it ruined everything for you. 

He was the one that picked fights. 

He was the one that pushed teachers to the limits. 

He’s the one that sold dope from his locker. 

He’s the one that hooked up with a girl in the teacher's lounge. 

And the third floor bathroom. 

And the girls locker room.

And underneath the bleachers.

He’s the one that made everyone think you were just alike. 

It ruined everything about high school so far. 

Jokes, rumors, lost friendships, people refusing to date you. 

It was childish and unfair. You wanted one person on your side, the one person you watched in class, the one person that was nice to you in a school of jekyll’s. And you couldn’t have him. 

“Hey, still coming later?” 

Peter Parker had a smile that could make the devil buckle. He was sugar, spice and everything nice. Long time crush, but the part where you’ve been smeared into a good for nothing whore, made nothing possible. 

“You sure you still wanna do this? I don’t mind asking Mrs. Stu-” 

Peter called your name like you were telling a joke, “it’s my honor to tutor you! Don’t blow me off.” 

You want to protect him. You like him too much. He hangs around you long enough and accusations with his name start flying around with yours. 

“If you’re so desperate,” grinning brightly, “I’ll see you later.” 

Peter was so kind to tutor you. Your teacher asked on your behalf, she said she thought you’d be a good pair and you couldn’t deny the extra help, too bad Peter had to be the one on the chopping block. He was being a good samaritan and you knew what it would cause for him, even with the alone time you’ve been craving, you’d keep him pushed away at all costs. 

You didn’t want the fallout to burn him, you’re used to the sting and he’s someone that shouldn’t feel anything but a loving touch. 

Even if it would kill you, you’d have to pretend to be disinterested in Peter Parker and watch him walk away. 

Oh, the things you do for love.

—------------

You’ve never felt so paranoid in your life. You swore everyone was looking at you, or maybe they were looking at Peter. Telling themselves it seemed fit that a nerd would be trying his shot with the school whore, because it’s not like you’d say no. 

“Hi, can I sit?” Peter pointed at the patch of grass next to you, your eyes squinted as you looked up at him, it was hard reading his expression. You were the shade but he was standing under the sun, everything was washed out and too bright. 

“Um, here?” you pointed at the same spot, taking a chance to look around, you felt eyes all over you. “Yeah, I mean, unless you want me here?” He pointed at a patch on the other side of you, “or here,” gesturing next to your feet, “you know what? You choose, I’m the guest.” 

He’s so nice. Gentle, even. You hadn’t experienced someone so kind, so golden hearted, in a minute. His kindness shouldn’t be his weakness or his downfall. With one last scope of the scene you assume he could stay for a moment, at least you could figure out where to meet later. 

You give Peter a smile and pat the first spot he pointed out, “you can sit,” answering his original question. His backpack hit the ground first, jimming himself closer to the tree behind you to rest his back on. Peter’s fingers picked pieces of grass, you assume in boredom. 

“So,” you both speak at the same time, a soft exhaling laugh at the symmetry. You wave Peter along, the sooner he gets it out the sooner he can leave, the quicker he is with you the less he’ll be attacked. 

“Wanna meet at the library?” 

And have everyone see? Have his reputation smeared like your own? There’s a reason you don’t have many people around you, you can’t believe he doesn’t see it.

“No,” he’s taken a bit back by your blunt tone. Peter hums low, “your place?” 

You scoff, “absolutely not.” 

There’s no other option then, “alright, my place it is. Wanna come with me after school? We could take the bus, unless you prefer the subway.” 

God, there’s nothing in the world you want more. It was too dangerous, if you got close enough it’d be too hard to rip it away. If you were seen leaving school with him, going to his house with him, it’d be over for him. You would give him the mark of cain. 

It hurts more than you’d like to admit, you take your turn at plucking small weeds, avoiding his face. He’s hard to say no to. 

“I can’t. But, I’ll come over tonight.” 

You hate how happy he sounded when he answered, it was so unfair. You were a good kid, your brother was the bad one, but you dealt with all the repercussions. Your heart felt so weighed down, you wanted nothing more to reach out and hold Peter’s hand. 

You wanted a boyfriend. 

You wanted a friend. 

You wanted love. 

You wanted to feel accepted and heard and validated and supported by one person. 

But you couldn’t have him. 

“Cool. Wanna give me your number?” It’d be better than talking in person, easier to keep him away from you unless absolutely necessary. You nod, finally looking at him when you hand over your phone, he’s got a giant smile and you have to look back down at a patch of weeds with a single dandelion poking from it. 

“Yours?” 

Peter’s fingers brush yours when he hands his over, a warm jolt spreads down your wrist and into your elbow. It makes you feel alive, it’s a welcomed feeling. You try to forget it immediately. 

His screen is cracked and scratchy as you type your number in, feeling him watch over your face you scan the crowd of people. You swear you see someone pointing, you shove his phone back in his hand, scrambling to stand. 

“I’ll text you when I’m on my way, I have to go.” 

He’s not allowed to care this much. It’s unfair. 

“You don’t want to have lunch with me? I have half a sandwich if you want it, I know we only have like, ten minutes left but if you want it, it’s yours.” 

‘If you want it, it’s yours.’

Does he mean it? Is there a limit to what could be yours? 

Too bad you’ll never know. 

“Thank you, but I can’t.” He almost looks disappointed, you have to stop making things up. 

“You sure? I don’t mind sharing with you.” 

You do. He can’t suffer the same consequences you do, it’s too isolating. Lonely. You were lonely. He doesn’t deserve it. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll see you later, Peter.” 

Peter takes his time unwrapping his homemade sandwich from cellophane, he takes a bite from half and moans, outstretching his hand with the other half, still wrapped up. “Here, take it to go. My aunt made it, if you try hard enough you can taste the love.” 

He’s god damn irresistible. 

You take his gift, slowly backing away, “thanks, I’ll search for it.” 

Peter’s smile hurts your eyes, “good, it isn’t hard to find.” He’s adorable, even when he’s wrong. 

It must be his superpower. 

—-------------------

Peter’s aunt was two things. 

A lot, and very kind. 

You can see where Peter gets his aggressive pleasantry from, the moment she opened the door she was eager to please you. May wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, her voice cheery in your ear.

“Oh my goodness, it is so nice to put a face to the name.” 

Politely patting her back you swallow thickly, she’s heard all about you and your make believe history. She’s kind but you know in the back of her mind she’s hoping you’d leave her nephew alone, get what you need from him and leave. 

“Nice meeting you too, you make a killer sandwich, by the way.” 

She gasps, pushing you away by your shoulders, moving her head to catch her eyes. An unfamiliar smile crosses her face, you don’t know what it means but it feels as welcoming and radiant as Peter’s. 

“Oh, good! He shared.” 

May said it like it was planned, like she could tell you were confused she broke your attention away. “I made cookies, because everyone knows you need sugar to help you focus.” A wink, she was so gentle, it’s something about those Parker’s. 

You play along, it’s nice to be welcomed for once. Even if it’s until you’re gone, the moment she tells Peter she knows all about you and to keep his distance. 

“I think I read a story on that once, nine out of ten dentists agree, right?” 

And just for a moment you let yourself dream, floating on your imaginary high of Peter Parker when his aunt laughs at your joke, her smile slowly dimming while she looks at your face, deep in thought. A confident head nod. 

“Peter was right about you.” 

You should take it negatively, but you don’t. There’s something about her that tells you she only means well. It must mean she hasn’t heard the bad things, but once she does, she’d be eating her words. 

But damn, if you aren’t curious about what Peter said. Was he nice, did he hint at a crush, did he make his aunt believe you were someone you’re not? 

“Peter was right about what?” 

The devil himself appeared from nowhere, his body standing next to yours, so closely you can feel hints of his cotton zip up hoodie brushing your arms. You closed your eyes to breathe slowly, the sight of him with his hands flat on the kitchen counter, leaning his weight into the laminate, his hoodie strings dangling in a tempting way. 

In a way you want to pull him closer by them, curling the fabric around your fingers and tugging him until his mouth is on yours. 

You’re easy to read, you can see it on May’s face the second you open your eyes. You know in an instant she knows that you like her nephew. Even more surprisingly, she looks excited with the knowledge. 

Her eyes flicker back to her nephew, “how lovely you said our guest was, what else did you say?” 

You can see Peter freeze, “May,” it’s a warning tone. His aunt bulldozes, “wasn’t it something about how pr-” You don’t know what she says, Peter speaks over her. “May!” Jumping in your spot, caught off guard by his sudden tone and volume change, Peter moves a hand to your arm, “sorry,” it was delicate, it was him saying he was only sorry towards you, sorry for catching you off guard. 

Fighting past his numbing touch, you smile, “it’s okay, I didn’t know you could be so stern.” 

You need to see a therapist, because you swear you shared a moment. “Only when it’s something I’m passionate about.” 

He’s talking about you, he has to be. You want him to be. 

You have no idea how you’ll keep yourself from tying to him. But you’ll give it a fighting chance. 

“You know what I’m passionate about?” Peter shakes his head, it’s hard to look away from his eyes, you never knew brown eyes could be so pretty. But you do, attention directed to fresh made chocolate chip cookies. 

“Cookies.” 

Peter won’t let you off that easy, “what kind?” 

You bounce different flavors over in your head, “you’re opening pandora's box, parker. I mean, are we talking grocery store, homemade, or bakery?” 

His arms crossed over his chest, “well, now I need to know every answer.” 

You blow out a breath like you’re about to compete in the olympics, “alright, off the shelf grocery, you can’t go wrong with double stuffed oreos. But, personally, those keebler elves, with the fudge? I love em, my mom stopped buying them cause I’d eat half the pack in one sitting, so now my dad sneaks them to me. But, I mean, you can’t go wrong with those little bakery sugar cookies, you know, the ones that stick to the roof of your mouth?” 

Peter bites back a grin, you weren’t lying, you really were passionate. 

“I know what ones you’re talking about, they’re gross.” It’s the most offensive thing he could say to you. “You’re wrong, but okay.” He laughs, “opinions can’t be wrong,” you pull your head back, “they absolutely can, yours is proof.” 

You look for support from his aunt but she’s long gone, you didn’t even see her back away. 

Peter rolls his hand, amping you on, “homemade?” 

You spit the answer quickly, “butterscotch oatmeal.” He’s never heard of them, or tasted them, but if you love them, he thinks he would too. “You’ll have to bring me some to try, they sound tempting.” Agreeing with him, “you’d never go back.” 

“Bakery?” 

“That’s the tricky one, it’s a rare find, not every place has them. But it’s my all time favorite flavor of anything ever made, s’mores.” 

Peter loves it, your favorite treat was s’mores and it fit you. 

His personal mission was tracking one down and bringing it to you. 

“S’mores? Really?” 

You nod, “really, really. If you find one you’ll have to try it, unless you have another wrong opinion and don’t like s’mores.” 

“Nah, I love s’mores.” 

Peter Parker was too good of a person to bring down. You need to shut down your admiration, because his alienation would hurt the most. 

—---------------------

This wasn’t good. No, this was bad. This was really bad. 

Peter Parker just called open season on himself and it was all your fault. 

You should’ve refused for him to be your tutor, that was the mistake. The moment it was agreed upon it was over. You should’ve never gone over to his house, if you hadn't then you would’ve never told him about your favorite cookie, and he wouldn’t have gotten you one. 

It happened in third period, he approached your seat and set a small white box in front of you. Your eyes flickered from the box to him several times before you asked, “what’s this?” A gift, you knew that much, he’s given you a gift and Jeffery Stewart was watching it go down. Peter would have an hour until he was tied to you. 

“Open it,” slowly opening the cardboard your heart skips three beats, once for each cookie. You’ve never felt so seen, dare you even say loved? He listened, that’s what it was. He listened to you and he tracked them down and presented them to you, he was proud. 

Peter Parker has made everything about your current life harder. 

“Oh my god, where did you find these?” 

He shakes his head, like it doesn’t matter where he sourced them, what matters is that he did. 

“You were right, they’re hard to track down, it took me three days. Surprisingly, they’re mostly seasonal.” 

You tsk, contemplating tearing one in half right now. “It’s so wrong, isn’t it? I mean, you can buy s’mores stuff all year long, so it doesn’t make sense.” Fuck it, it’s selfish, but he went above and beyond. 

Splitting a cookie, you hand half over, cheersing yours with his. You throw your head back and hum the second you bite down, they’re the best ones you’ve ever had. You weren’t sure if it was because they were that good, or because it felt like they were purchased with care. 

“Holy shit, Peter. These are unearthly.”

He’s in the same boat, he can understand why they’re your favorite now. 

Nodding excessively, “my world has changed for the better.” 

“Yeah, mine too.” It was a slip, you didn’t mean to say it. It came out without thinking, you said it sincerely, and he knows it. Peter finished the rest of his cookie and licked his thumb, “good, I’m glad to hear it.” 

This was bad. This was very bad. 

Because Peter Parker lays his hand on your desk and leans in, really closely, it makes you stop functioning all together. He needs to leave, he needs to back away, he needs to leave you alone. He doesn’t know what he's doing to himself, but you’re too selfish to stop it. 

Even with Jeffery Stewart staring you down like a dog in heat, a wicked grin spreads while he ropes over the many rumors he’s about to flood the halls with. 

“Wanna come over tonight?” 

Lost in a world of a million thoughts, all of them being about the distance from his lips to yours. Blinking back to attention you groan, “I don’t really feel like studying tonight, my brain is mush.” 

Peter nods, then moves in, just an inch closer, you feel like you’re about to die. 

“Not what I asked.” 

“I don’t-” 

“I asked if you wanted to come over, not if you wanted to study.” 

The room is spinning, everything is a blur. He’s flirting, Peter Parker is flirting with you in front of an audience. He’s fearless, it’s impressive. There’s no way he doesn’t know about your reputation, the things people say about you, the things you do. 

Suddenly, a chill creeps up your spine. What if he knows exactly what people say, what if that’s why he’s being sweet, what if that’s why he’s acting like he cares? Fuck it, you’ll call him out on his bullshit, but privately, you don’t need any extra attention. 

“Sure. Same time?” 

“Same time,” it’s set in stone when the bell rings, Peter knocks his knuckles on your desk before he walks away. It’s unfair how much you hate to see him pull away from you.

—------------------

The upside to being cynical is that when things don’t work out, like you plan, you’re not that hurt, because you called it the whole time. 

Just like Peter, you knew the second it circled back to him he’d be gone. It proved to be true when you heard mumbles by your locker, eyes flicking to you and back, quicker whispers shared. 

From what you’ve gathered, either Peter has seen your nipple piercings or he’s given you nipple piercings. Not that you had them, but that didn’t matter. What now mattered was that Peter was directly tied to you and your boobs were involved, that’s enough alone for him to get a clap on the back while you’re being shamed for even acknowledging your body autonomy. 

What a lame rumor, Jeffery Stewart could’ve gone to the moon with theories but this was the one he settled on? Usually he was a bit more creative, his last one ended up with you and the guidance counselor in the principal's office informing you that it was a safe space, and that if the school’s janitor came onto you it wasn’t your fault. 

It took three weeks for people to totally forget it, but those few weeks you’d hear claps and wolf whistles when you passed by the janitor's closet made you feel like you were on the constant verge of vomiting. 

Usually it wouldn’t bother you, but once they involved Peter’s name you felt sick. Everything you feared itching to life, and right when you heard a third possibility you couldn’t stay silent, slamming your locker door shut and giving wild eyes to the girl talking to her friend on your right. 

“Which one is it, Lindsey? Was he holding my hand while I got them done, did he see them, or did he do them? I don’t know about you, but if I heard three totally different versions of a story I’d question the authenticity of the claim.” 

It didn’t matter who was watching, you couldn’t hold it in.

You felt like you were on fire, you could see her sputter, like she didn’t expect you to call her out. You felt like the walls were closing in on you, she didn’t start the rumor but she was helping it spread and she was the closest person you could explode on. 

“C’mon, Lindsey. Which one? I want to hear your side, unless you think it went down a totally different way. What? Scared to talk?” 

Your throat’s closing, you can’t stop, you step closer, you shout at her. 

“Which one, Lindsey!” The hall was dead silent, for the first time you had no cares about who was looking. 

Her shoes squeak as she backs up, her eyes wide and blinking, a flash of terror, it makes you want to squeeze her and shake her, try to get her to understand this was what it felt like to be you.

“Fucking answer me!” Your voice cracked, she whimpered, fat tears falling. 

“None! I don’t believe any of them!” 

She doesn’t. You can see it written all over her face, she was just talking to talk, knowing you could hear every word she produced. It just made you feel sad. 

“You can hunt other women as much as you want, Lindsey. But the collusion doesn’t save you from the same hunt.” 

Lindsey nods, like she understands. But you know she doesn’t, you know she’ll keep being the same, until they turn on her, and then she’ll wonder why no one stands up for her and how anyone could believe the jargon they say about her. And on that day, you’d be nodding with the crowd. 

—-------------

If Peter told his aunt about today she had an excellent poker face. Because she was more than happy seeing you when she opened the door, hugging you close before she could even shut it.

“Hi, sweetheart! How are you doing?” Politely hugging back, you talk back in her ear. “Hi, Ms. Parker, I’m good, how are you?” A squeeze before you’re released, her hands warm on your shoulders. 

“Oh, please, just call me May. Did Peter give you the cookies?” 

You nod while biting back a grin, she might have a clue for how you feel about her nephew but you’re not announcing it either. “Good,” she’s got something in her that makes you feel like she’s more of a wingwoman than aunt. 

“Peter’s in his room, I won’t be back until late, are you sleeping over?” 

You feel off balance for a second. May’s leaving you and Peter alone, for several hours, and then suggests you’ll be spending the night. She really is a wingwoman. It makes you second guess everything Peter might have told her, it’s clear she can see your mental gymnastics when she pats your arm. 

“He said you guys are gonna hang out, maybe watch some movies. I just meant, will I be surprised if I come home to you two cuddled up somewhere.” 

Is she saying not to fuck in the common areas?

“Are you saying-” 

“Keep it in his room.” 

Mortified. She must assume the worst out of you, you’ve only met her twice and her thought was that the second you were alone you’d be fuck bunnies. To be fair, Peter is really attractive. She can tell how embarrassed she’d made you and she’s quick to jump over it. 

“No accusations and no shaming. I’d just rather be clear to both of you. Peter had a worse conversation, be glad.” 

You take that as her permission, and that she likes you. She has to, she just implied she’d be cool if you and Peter hooked up. Even if the world hated you, having her approval made you feel like you had someone to impress again. 

“Okay, I understand and accept the rules and boundaries of your home.” 

May laughs, hooking her purse over her shoulder she pats your arm again. “You’re a good kid, don’t forget that.” 

And that made you want to curl up and cry, you haven’t had unprompted support like that in years. It worked, because you’d never, not once, cross any boundary of her’s. In fact, after that? You’d die protecting hers. 

“Thanks, May. See you later.” 

A wink, “See you later, honey.” 

You took a second to breathe, and look over yourself in the mirror before approaching Peter’s door. Knocking for a second and opening it when he answered, he spun one eighty in his desk chair, a blur of blue plaid until he settled. 

Before he had a chance to speak you did, “did your aunt give us permission to have sex, or am I tripping?” 

Peter’s grin dimmed, he looked to his closet doors while his cheeks tinged pink. “I promise you, whatever she said to you, is nowhere near as bad as my talk.” 

“She mentioned that, was it all about the ins and outs of pleasuring a woman?” 

Peter’s avoiding eye contact, you came here to tell him he should keep his space but watching him shrink under your questions made you feel powerful. Each blush he gives makes you want to dig in further. 

He more or less shrugs, it’s a damn bold line, you don’t even know what you're saying until it comes out in full. 

“Tell me, Parker, could you please me?” 

Seconds tick, you can hear it on his clock, finally he looks at your face. Any trace of a blush fallen, it makes you feel choked. 

“I’m not sure, but I’d love to find out.” 

Panic. He’s not supposed to say that, he’s supposed to back down. You’re supposed to back him down.

Peter can’t go down this road and it’s your job to block his path, but you can’t stop yourself from moving out of his way. 

“I mean, since you already know about the nipple piercings…” you trail your words, expecting a sneer. Instead he laughs, a full on body laugh, it makes you smile, just the pure happiness radiating from him. 

For once a rumor is just something you can laugh about. 

“Psh, of course I knew about them. I mean, isn’t that the third time you’ve had them?” 

It was. You didn’t realize it but that was the third time the rumor was reused. You didn’t notice but he did, did he notice all the other ones too? All the ones that stated how bad you were? Did it even matter if he believed them, you didn’t think so, at least not at this point, you just didn’t want him to suffer the same fate. 

Peter pats the top of his bed, “take a seat,” your stomach lurches, the thought of being in his bed enough to ignite you in flames. His aunt said keep it in his room and he’s luring you right in, your palms feel like they’re sweating. If he heard all the rumors about you sleeping around and thought you were like that, he was about to be disappointed. 

Holding your eyes shut and squeezing fists you rush the words out, the quicker said the quicker this would be over. 

“I’m a virgin!” 

Instead, he looked utterly confused, looking around his room like he was trying to figure out where the explosion came from. Settling on a low release of words, his eyebrows furrowed in, “so am I?” 

Just to be clear, “I’m not looking to change that tonight, so if that’s why you wanted-” 

“No!” Peter almost slips on the floor he stands so quick, “that’s not at all why I wanted, I just thought…” He doesn’t know how to say it, he almost said he thought you needed a friend, but that could be offensive, or worse, he’d be friendzoning himself for you. 

“Thought what, I’d be an easy piece? Cause I know you’ve hea-” 

“I asked Mrs. Sturgis if I could tutor you!” 

You stop talking, his words looping in your brain. That doesn’t make sense, because if he did ask then that means he wanted to tutor you, that means there was a deeper meaning, that means when his aunt said he talked about you it went further than what was said at school. 

“Please,” he pleaded your name, “come sit? Just for a second.” 

You follow his command and sit on the edge of his bed, watching Peter pace as he combs his hands through his hair. He’s nervous. 

“I don’t know how to talk to you, my brain is just… you make me really nervous.” 

“Why did you ask to tutor me?” 

Peter stops moving to look at you, it was easier to answer when you asked. 

“So I could talk to you.” 

It’s a start, “why?” 

“I just wanted you to trust me. I hear what everyone says, and I don’t believe a word of it, but I didn’t want you to think I was asking for the wrong reasons, or making a joke out of you.” 

Your face scrunches, “you thought, I’d think, that you asking to tutor me, directly, would be a joke?” 

Peter shakes his head, sitting back in his chair and taking a second to answer you. 

“No, I think if I asked you out on a date you’d think it was a joke.” 

You laugh, “well, yeah… It’s not like you…” 

Except he does, and you can see it all over his face. He really, really does. With the new knowledge you don’t know how to act, suddenly aware Peter Parker sees you in a different light. He doesn’t see you as his student, he sees you as a potential mate. 

You only know fight or flight, and your flight option was crawling further up his bed, backing away until your back hit the wall, a dull thump produced. You give a barely audible, “ow,” your brain racing with thoughts, trying to catch up with his admittance. 

“You okay?” 

You’re thankful he can’t see you, the top bunk perfectly cutting your head from his viewpoint. 

“Peachy,” you can barely speak. 

“Cool, cause it seemed like you kinda freaked when I implied I wanted to ask you out.” 

You nibble on your thumbnail, “implied or asking?” 

“I’d rather ask when I can see you.” 

How is he so calm, he was the one that was just pacing the floor talking about how nervous he was. Now he’s a smooth talker.

“Is that why you asked to tutor me? So you could ask me out?” 

“Maybe, but you also need a tutor.” 

Rude. Fair, but rude. 

“So, you like me?” 

You wish you could see the smile he has, you know he has one, you can hear it in his laugh. 

“What would give you that impression?” 

You shrug, but he can’t see. “I don’t know, you’re not nervous anymore.” 

“I don’t have to be, the girl I like likes me too.” 

You gasp, you’ve said no such thing! There was absolutely nothing to base his accusation off of. You mock his words. 

“What would give you that impression?” 

Another laugh, you wish you could see that laugh. But once you emerge it’s over, it means he’s signed his life away to be with you. An act of selflessness you didn’t know was possible. 

“Look at yourself, you’re hiding cause you’re petrified to be asked out.” 

“No, I’m not. I’m protecting you, cause if you don’t ask, you won’t be ridiculed.” 

You imagine he looks offended, because he sounds it. 

“Do you think I give a shit what anyone thinks?”

“It’s isolating, Peter. I’d feel like I’d bring you down, and you don’t deserve that.” You take a breath, “you’re very kind, and I really like that.” 

“You’re kind too, and smart, and really, very, pretty. And I think once you have a boyfriend and a friend group, things won’t be so bad and everyone will forget why they teased you.” 

You hum, playing with your nails and chewing at your bottom lip, silence took over. It was a rush of a lot of emotions, you’re shocked and excited. You’re also panicked and jittery. It was everything you feared and wished for at once. 

Peter Parker is asking to be in your life, no matter the cost. 

That’s the bravest thing you’ve ever witnessed. 

Clearing your throat, “who would be my boyfriend?” 

Peter pretended to think about it, “you could have whoever you want.” 

“Anything you want, it’s yours.” An immediate flashback to the first day he sat with you, you mumbled out the words and scooted, just an inch, from the wall. 

“What was that?” 

You announce it, moving forward another inch, “anything you want, it’s yours. You said that at lunch the first day you sat with me, do you still mean it?” 

There’s just something you’ve been dying to do, something you’ve been wanting to do. And he said whatever you wanted. 

“Whatever you want, I mean it.” He sounds sincere too, you move forward a few inches. 

“Have you kissed anyone before?” 

Peter doesn’t understand the correlation but he’ll entertain it. “Yes?” 

You offer up more information, hoping he’d catch the hint. “I haven’t.” 

He doesn’t. “That’s no biggie, I think over half the school-” 

You speak over him, “but, I want to.” 

It takes Peter a second to register it, and when he does he almost collapses. 

“Oh. I see. Um, want me to come in there, or you come out here?” 

Your heart races, he’s so willing to do whatever with no qualms, you just asked and he’s delivering. You were about to have your first kiss with your number one crush, and he liked you too. 

“Wait, you’re gonna do it?” You’ve never been so excited. Or anxious. Were these the butterflies people talk about? 

“I’m sorry, did I read that wrong?” 

“No, you’re just… right now?” You think you’ll puke all over him, that’s why you’re stalling. 

You can see Peter drum his fingers over his pants, “do you wanna hold off for a second? I’ll do it whenever you want.” 

Your heart clenches, “Peter,” you groan out his name, “stop being so nice, it hurts.” Waiting a moment before continuing, “I’m gonna suck, and you won’t like me anymore.” 

God, you wish you could see the cocky grin smear, you can hear it, but you want to face him more than anything. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. He knows you can’t stay hidden forever. 

“Wanna bet?” 

Why not? If you really think about the last year and change of high school, what else would you really have to lose? 

Plus, he was really cute. 

Overwhelmed with the knowledge of knowing you were about to have your first kiss, you slowly shimmied to the edge of the bed, right where you were before you hightailed it backwards. 

Peter looks even better than you’ve pictured, his hair fluffy from where he ran his hands through it. A greeting smile rested on him, and his bright brown eyes warmed. “Well, hello there, I was afraid you got lost.” 

Sucking the life force from your bravery, “I was told there would be kisses out here.” 

A surprised look crossed Peter before he fell back into neutral, pushing off his desk to glide over in front of you, his knees knocking yours, suddenly you feel panicky again. “There absolutely can be.” 

Peter catches your nerves and figures it’d be easier to actually get it over with, because the second he would pull away all panic would hit near bottom ground. Using what little skill he has, he rests his right hand on your thigh while his left cups your face. 

You suck in a breath, following his guide when he brings your face up to his. Peter swipes his thumb across your cheekbone and you feel everything in you be set ablaze with desire. 

You wonder if he can feel how warm your cheek is under his touch, if he does, he doesn’t comment. When you give him no disagreement he leans in, he can hear your breath hitch, it brings him a little pleasure to be the ‘cool’ one in the situation. 

When he’s closer than you would’ve ever imagined he gives you a grin, “hi.” It was a hushed whisper, you give him one back, “hi.” Your eyes flash from his gaze to his mouth, you were caught, it makes you look down at your hands. 

Your mind spirals, why hasn’t he kissed you yet, and also, what do you do with your hands? Giving it a shot you press them against Peter’s chest, but it feels like you’re pushing him off, so you move to his shoulders but it doesn’t feel quite right. 

“Want some help?” Peter caught on to your struggle, of course he did, he just notices the little things with you. He doesn’t even pull away, just bringing his hand that was on your thigh to bring your left hand around his neck. Your right hand outstretched to rest on his ribcage, when you look back he seems much closer, this time he’s looking at your mouth. 

“Do-” 

Peter cuts you off, a hushed whisper, “I’m gonna kiss you now,” you breathe in sharply, “oh, okay.” Peter can’t fight the smile, “is it?”

You don’t get a chance to answer, his mouth is on yours, and it’s heaven. You feel like you’re floating, his lips velvety smooth, the only way you know how to show your shock and appreciation is by gripping his shirt. Peter’s bottom lip favored your top lip, moving into his kisses awkwardly. He was much more experienced, but he didn’t make you feel overwhelmed, it felt like he was guiding you. 

You didn’t feel like you were doing much, but it felt like everything you imagined. It made you dream of a day where you could do this with him whenever you wanted. It felt like he was pulling away, you refused to part and followed him, holding tight to his flannel. It failed when he was able to push you away with ease. 

Peter sounded slightly winded, you were blinking with stars in your eyes, your heartbeat in your throat, and just a little shy to look at him. “Funny thing about kissing, you gotta breathe to keep doing it.” 

You're new to it, gulps of fresh air weren’t as refreshing as him. You wanted to kiss him again, but you didn’t want to put him out, and you still weren’t sure how to initiate or ask for it. 

Peter tapped on your knee, “wanna take me out for another test drive or are you happy with your purchase?” 

He wanted to do it again. 

That’s a good thing. 

“If I buy it, does that mean the test drives stop?” 

“Of course not. That just means you don’t need to ask to drive it.” 

You lean in this time, “but I have to ask now?” 

Peter speaks against your lips, “it would be the customary thing to do.” 

“Well then,” you speak softly and look at him, “would you kiss me again?” 

Your eyes close when he brushes against your mouth, a kiss is pressed to the corner of your cheek, “depends, are you planning on purchasing?” 

Boldly, you give him a chaste kiss, “everyone at school is gonna hate my new car.” 

Peter kisses your cheek, “best in show, baby. Best in show.” 

You take a deep breath, it wasn’t a bad thing to need someone. And it wouldn’t be bad to let yourself have them. 

Peter Parker heard everything everyone said but he wasn’t even listening, it felt dizzying, for the first time someone saw the real you, the good you and wanted you. He wanted nothing and everything at the same time. You liked him, maybe a bit too much, and the risk of losing him was enough to send you flying. But the chance of love, and hope and trust was even bigger. 

Someone wasn’t scared to have a big reputation with you. Peter Parker was proud to have the same big enemies as you. 

And for that reason, 

“Sold.” 

[biggaybunny]

Thinking again about the original Spyro games and 3D space in games.

The move to 3D was a tough one for platformers. I think we can all agree on that. Even fondly remembered titles from the era of the N64 and the PS1 were known for having tough or clunky platforming controls. Camera problems, awkward character control, issues with depth marking, difficult gaps; there were all sorts of problems. Hell, the platformer genre shrank to near-nonexistence in the coming generations of games; Mario Sunshine for the gamecube, the first 3D mario after 64, is considered one of the weaker entries, despite having gone to extreme lengths to try and compensate for the difficulty of platforming in 3D (they gave you the ability to hover in air and correct missed jumps, this wasn't by accident).

But back to when platformers were first breaking out into 3D, you can see that a lot of different strategies were used to try and compensate for the difficulty introduced by the new dimension. Crash Bandicoot is well-known for its tactic of restricting the player to two dimensions at a time, giving you obstacle courses of various types to run through, but mixing them up between and even within levels so you still felt like you were playing a 3D game. Other games would give you a double jump to help correct yourself, though the examples I can think of were games that came out a little later (like ratchet and clank for the ps2), so they had the benefit of seeing what worked and what didn't for the first wave. Mario 64, interestingly, simply toned down the difficulty of the platforming challenge, as well as the punishment for failure in all but a few areas (mario had never had a life meter in the 2D games, and certainly wouldn't survive falling in lava in those). You might expect me to say "and that's why Mario 64 was more successful" or something, but that's not my point, and honestly, I think discussing that would be beyond the scope of what I'm trying to get at.

So what I'm trying to get at is that the move to 3D required anyone who wanted to make a platformer to think about space. How they wanted to handle space, how they wanted the player to interact with space. For the platformer, space itself, the geometry of the game, is crucial. Now, obviously, every game is affected by its geometry. A shooter is drastically different if enemies can only come at you from a corridor or from any direction. I'm not saying it's not important for other genres, I'm saying it took even greater importance for platformers. Because it's not enough to say, okay, the player can move in any direction. You have to go a step further. How can they move through every direction? What limits them? What details are there to the geometry that aid or impede that? How many directions can they move at any given moment? In a lot of platformers of the day, a lot of the actual challenging platforming sections tended to happen against walls, or in areas where the player had only to move forward and back, or side to side, at one time, neither both at once (you see this in basically everything Rareware made for the n64).

Spyro (remember what I originally said this post was about? lmao) embraced the possibilities of 3D like no other early platformer did, in my opinion. While Crash put up guide rails and Mario slowballed the challenges for you, Spyro was about using the depth and breadth of the 3D world. Other platformers jump vertically, but Spyro went horizontally. Your challenges weren't above you, they were over there. Yes, way over there. In the distance. Yes, all the way over there. You can't translate Spyro back in to 2D because it actually used all 3 dimensions. What you could see, you could get to, and not by walking over there, but by using your skills. For me personally, as a child, I never even saw the draw distance limitations as a downside. Gliding over a vast chasm and watching treasure and enemies "come into view" as I got close was exciting! It was exploration! Seeing a place and figuring out how to get over to it was a challenge. Trying to eyeball a trajectory and see if I'd make it was exciting. It was all made possible by using the distance and depth of the world, and the relative height of regions of the land. The entire 3D landscape was there, for you to traverse in fun and interesting ways.

There were some drawbacks, yes. Missing a jump in a traditional platformer is often something you find out quickly, and you can quickly learn and iterate on your mistakes. Missing a glide in Spyro often wouldn't be apparently until the 14th second of a 15 second glide, and by the time you got back to where you jumped from you couldn't be sure where, exactly, you had jumped from and if you just needed to try again. The level design was also often hit or miss with clueing you in to the existence of hidden jumps. And by necessity, levels had to full of large open gaps most of the time, which often make the world feel empty and kind of eerie. But I think these are all things that could've been solved with a little bit of iterating on them and some cleverness. Just take a look at how well Crash 4 works after the first 3 Crashes kind of hit a wall with their formula.

I really think that even modern entries in the 3d platforming genre struggle to take advantage of the potential of their world as well as the original Spyro did, at least conceptually. It's a shame the series has been mismanaged as badly as it has for as long as it has, but then again, even the original trilogy was getting pretty bad by the 3rd one. It's just a really hard formula to get right, it was probably a lot easier to copy what everyone else at the time was doing and add more gimmicks and minigames and side characters. So instead of getting to explore rich magical landscapes with a unique moveset as a cool little purple dragon, we got to go skateboarding with Hunter.

I fucking hate Hunter.

[cosmica-galaxy]

For Fellow and Comrade... Are those two permanent party or they kinda come and go compared to the main Mimic Trio? The Clock Mimic strikes me as way more aloof, especially given the fact they feed on life-force and might wanna spare the human from having their vitality drained

I would say they are permanent, but situational. Fellow is sensitive to light, not in a vampire way but more in a photosensitive way, and lives primarily underground. Being underground since birth, Fellow prefers darkness and will start to feel pain if exposed to sunlight for too long, usually 30 minutes to within 2 hours depending on weather. However, he can walk above ground while it's very overcast, raining, or if it's dusk or night. So he'll be seen less often because of those restrictions. But don't worry, he pays attention and may even follow the human's pack underground for added unexpected backup if things go wrong. He appears just often enough to make the human happy and Pal ecstatic to see his childhood friend above ground. He'll even appear to help on missions that involve counterattacks, digging, and underground spying/scoping. He tries to help the alliance and the human's pack, despite his limitations and inability to communicate effectively. It won't stop him from trying, though! Comrade is even more elusive and aloof than Fiend. The human doesn't even know where he lives or what he does in his spare time. He speaks like an educated scholar, but with a bit of attitude/dissociation. The human only ever runs into him when they are usually alone and away from the alliance, whom he tries to avoid. He also changes feeding grounds a lot, so the human can only surmise that he may be nomadic...then again...his incredible speed may make those trips absolutely trivial. He also puts his hands into his "pockets" to avoid touching the human, as his claws are his feeding apparatus and accidental touching can drain some of the human's vitality, but not as nearly as much as if he was actively hunting. So he keeps to himself. Easily the most difficult to get close to and he refuses to live within the bases of the alliance. Preferring to keep his own personal dwelling a secret. He's pretty tight-lipped about his species and doesn't mention his family or if he has a pack of his own. He just ignores the question when asked. However, the human is determined to get him to be friendlier...and maybe that's why he likes them so much. (So when peeps say "mimics", I usually only assume the main trio of mimics. As one will have to ask about the multiverse variants for them to be included. They'll also have to be seperate for length reasons, lmao.)

[lunar-years]

New 1989 outfit is fugly (I’m so sorry Taylor) but very reminiscent of 1989 tour (when many of the costumes were indeed also fugly 🫡)

The acoustic set outfit is also worse :(

Combining folklore and evermore is meh tbh like I don’t love that at all but I also completely see why it had to be done

I stared at the “this is not Taylor’s Version” t shirt for an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to figure out what on earth she was trying to say and I still think it’s not something that makes much sense out of context/accompanied by a side explanation and it was a weird choice for the shirt lmao.

ttpd set goes incredibly hard 100/10 NO NOTES.

her coming out in that same freaking reputation jumpsuit after changing every other outfit in the show was peak comedy (she’s so funny and we can never talk about that enough)

the entire shape of the show has changed imho so I think it’s fair for fans to be sad about missing last years half or missing this years half or about not getting to see certain songs or about not getting tickets at all to a show that was incredibly difficult and expensive to get tickets to in the first place. It feels like two separate shows. And we are allowed to express sadness or fomo without being dubbed immediately ungrateful/bad fans (obviously there’s a limit and legitimately complaining/getting mad at Taylor for doing her own show how she wants to do it/threatening to no longer go [lol, plenty of fans are in line to take your tickets] is goofy deadass, but)

I do wish she’d just done a separate ttpd tour (even if we had to wait several years and the tour was combined between ttpd and the next potential album) but I can also recognize that I’m mostly saying that because of how desperately I want to hear ttpd songs live and the knowledge I won’t be able to

I also think her deciding to add it now, combined with the general length and scope of eras tour, is evidence that she is planning to take a long break from touring once it’s over (NOT in the weird ‘she’s going to retire to have babies’ way!!! Just in an ‘I think she’s planning to take a touring break’ straightforward way)

I’ve seen some people already taking the transition from but daddy I love him into so high school as confirmation that their theory that the last verse is actually about Travis is correct. But as someone with song literacy, I merely take it as confirmation that Taylor saw the theory, thought it worked fabulously, and enjoys retconning her own songs to aid her own whims and happiness (which is so beyond real of her and also incredibly funny)

Playing so high school as the only anthology song for kicks and giggles was so cute of her she’s down soooo bad for that man

Midnights body suit is hotter than ever and she herself is also hotter than ever

Loml as the surprise song at THAT show after I’d made that post….you have to laugh LOL 🙃

If anyone has near face value tickets for sale for USA or Canada shows later this year I will genuinely offer you my firstborn child plus the money in exchange god bless

[artemissoteira]

something I love about watching Aabria play ttrpgs is her absolute delight in character conflict and specifically characters who insist upon sitting in conflicts of deeply held convictions that don't have an easy resolution.

I feel like in Failed Save alone there are multiple times where both Fess and Chi have interrupted someone (PC and NPC!) who is trying to move past or minimize or make light of a conflict in order to make things easier or more comfortable (spitting over Dew, Amelia, everything about the contract in s6). it's such a cool way to interrupt the assumed 'yes and' / narrative flow of a ttrpg by forcing not just continued focus on a scene, but refocus in the framework of - no, you don't get to be comfortable, the camera isn't going to turn away, we're going to sit with the implications of this conflict and take it seriously even if it's hard because there's something here for us to dig in to, if you'll trust me to do it together and go there together.

I just think it's such a fun approach to this medium of fantasy and creative freedom and shared storytelling, especially in a game like Failed Save that is so over the top and lackadaisical with reality - until it's not, until the characters face something very, very real. and of course the GM has a lot of tools to manipulate that contrast and set up those emotionally intense scenes, which vince does very well, but it's very cool to see a player* using their more limited scope of tools to do the same thing.

I imagine it's a style that not everyone is comfortable with, given the way it challenges cultural expectations around conflict and specifically conflict in improv / ttrpg settings (and coming from a Black woman especially). I think it's not something a player can pull off well without a) an excellent sense of narrative pacing to know when it's appropriate and b) more importantly, a ton of trust at the table, with both other players and the GM. and naturally it's harder for the audience to be certain of the latter when we're watching through a screen and don't have the same context, so I don't think it's an uncomplicated thing by any means.

but god is it marvelous to watch when it lands.

*everyone in the Failed Save cast does this in really interesting ways, actually, but I think Aabria's style is the most overtly challenging to common ttrpg sensibilities and so the most stark. Gina's emotional sneak attacks with Murray and Saige's decidedly unheroic choices for Dasle are also always on my mind but. that's another post entirely lmao.

obligatory plug to go check out Failed Save (and other shows) @PixelCircus on twitch/youtube for high-octane high-chaos ttrpg fun

[homestuckexamination]

classpect the vending machine SCP. Also, if you know Rain world, would it be too much to ask you what classpects you think Five Pebbles and Looks To The Moon would have? Without, uh, too much spoilers.

I was about to say 'it's literally just a Vending Machine' but I remembered it's actually sapient and snarky. Still I don't think there's like. ENOUGH of anything there to really Classpect... X3

RAIN WORLD THOUGH I LOVE RAIN WORLD.

Without going into much detail or spoilers, first of all there's a very real potential that Five Pebbles and Looks To The Moon could be, narratively within the framework of the game's story, be considered a Lord and a Muse, but I also do think this reading breaks down if you're considering the sheer scope of Rain World's Worldbuilding beyond what you're directly experiencing in the games. Basically if you just take the Slugcat's Journey into consideration, they COULD count, but I think beyond that you'd be hard-pressed to really give them that much importance (And in that Sense, there's definitely another Iterator that much better fits the role of a Muse for the entire overarching story).

But I digress. In my reckoning, Five Pebbles is most definitely Doombound. Not only because of his Actions and the results of Those Actions, but even his Goal. Once again, not to go too in-detail, but he's someone who's very obsessively trying to overcome certain limitations, who pushed things way too far. Class is more difficult. I am leaning Active for him just like I am Passive for Looks to the Moon, but... Maid could work. Attempting to be a Healer, a Creator of Doom, and some of his actions, could fit within this framework. There's also a 'Made of' pun that you could make him with his situation but, as mentioned, I'm trying to be as vague as possible here. X3

Looks to the Moon though. There's ways it could go... I want to say maybe Hope? It's very difficult but I think I may be pushing Hope a little bit, specially with her interactions with 5P and her own situation... And how things progress through the campaigns? Unsure, unsure. Class is even more difficult. She feels like a Very Passive figure to me, one more oriented to the things that Happen to her than the things that she Does. Maybe in that sense Void would work better than Hope. That doesn't answer the Class, though... Knight feels too proactive, Heir... Heir? Heir could be one, actually, specially with the idea of 'things happening to her', her current state could very much be a Bad 'Consumed by her Aspect' state... Familiar Rivulet... I think I like that. Heir of... Void? Heir of Hope? Heir of Breath or Blood perhaps even. Difficult but, I think the answer lies around there.

Can you tell I was writing this stuff as it popped to mind? Lmao. But yeah. Rainworld good- Pet a scug today.

[beevean]

I’ve had a lot of problems with Netflix’s Castlevania but I’ve never played the games so all my complaints about it were never from it being a poor adaptation. So reading your posts about just how much it differs has been super interesting and kinda makes me wanna check out the games because the lore and themes just seem so much more unique? Like all the stuff with the Belmont Family and Dracula’s destinies being so intertwined and how that effects the descendants (like Richter) and Dracula being less of a vampire and more like some satan figure in service of Chaos, sounds so much more original than Netflix’s version which just seems like a really generic dark fantasy, but like worse, with all the swearing and sex and just general dismal tone. I feel a bit robbed now because a good adaptation actually sounds like it would really stand out from all the other fantasy shows I see on Netflix and HBO.

Oh 🥰 first of all, it's always nice to hear when people have issues with NFCV without having played the games, because it proves that complaints go far beyond "it's too different :<" (implying everyone who dislikes the show is nothing more than a grumpy old purist, which is not the case). Trust me, as a Berserk fan, NFCV doesn't do anything groundbreaking, and somehow it manages to be more outdated and offensive than a manga started in 1990. Second, I'm very glad you are interested in trying the games! They're a lot of fun :D

I wrote a list of my first picks to play here. However, I skipped on the Classic games on the asker's request: if you're interested, I'd start with Rondo of Blood (appropriate, as it's the game Nocturne allegedly adapts) or Super Castlevania IV. Nocturne also takes a lot of cues from Bloodlines, which is fun but a bit harder, and ofc the original NFCV started off as an adaptation of Dracula's Curse - a good game with quite a bit of replay value, but hard in the Japanese version and outright sadistic in the American version lmao. So I'd save it for later.

Now, if you're playing from the plot, I must say that the games as a standalone tend to be somewhat light in story, and even the most elaborated ones are usually limited by scope or budget and/or feel a little cliché. A good chunk of the lore that connects the whole timeline is tied to manuals (mostly the Japanese ones, because sometimes the English translations made a mess, as it was custom in the '80s), outside materials like mangas, or even character bios in the games' official websites that have long shut down. But it's worth doing some research!

Personally I love this website, for example:

In any case, have fun! 💖

[leafcabbage]

i hate editing i hate proof reading so i DIDNT

3.5k words LMAO oops

here is something for the drdi hgau!! rescue mission <3

tws for injuries and mentions of needles and blood. nothing graphic

Going into the Capitol was probably a death trap, but Sneeg didn’t even entertain the idea of leaving Ranboo to be retrieved by strangers. The state they had been in during the last day of the 75th games had been bad enough, he could only imagine how much worse it had gotten in the weeks since they had been captured. 

If he wasn’t there, he was afraid Ranboo would just think they were being kidnapped, which, well, they kind of were, but it was by the right people this time. Ranboo thinking they were being kidnapped would probably lead to a struggle, which wouldn’t be helpful for anyone. 

Getting into the building had been nearly impossible without tripping any alarms, but they had made it to the floor that held the cells with Niki, Techno, and Ranboo. Now they would be on a strict time limit. They would cut the power to the floor, and have about two minutes before the emergency power kicked in. Any delays were likely a death sentence. It was a great way to get an adrenaline rush, really. 

They had scoped out the cells earlier, knew where to find everyone, and now it was a matter of finally putting the plan into action. Luckily, 13 had plenty of night vision glasses, or this would be nearly impossible. 

The power went out, and there was no more thinking about what to do, only doing it. 

Sneeg stuck to the wall as he made his way down the hall to Ranboo’s cell, figuring it was better to pretend there were guards everywhere, just in case one did make an appearance. He was pretty sure there had been guards, but he hadn’t been part of the group dealing with all that. 

He reached the door and forced it open with some specialized tool he’d been given. The engineers at 13 really had something for everything. Definitely not complaining about that. 

Ranboo was curled up on a cot just inside. There wasn’t much room for it to be anywhere else. Sneeg ignored the rush of relief at just seeing them there, alive and… well, pretty much just alive. They were absolutely not okay, bruised and skinnier than before, though he didn’t know how they had anything left to lose. He knew he couldn’t even see the extent of it, even with the night vision glasses. They also seemed to be asleep, which meant he was about to give them an unfortunate wake-up scare. 

He knelt beside their bed, trying to move quickly without being careless. Wincing slightly at how much he knew he was about to scare them, he pressed his hand over their mouth to keep them from making any noise. He didn’t even have to shake them awake, that was enough to startle them awake, eyes wide and searching the dark, trying to figure out what was happening.

They tried to shove his hand away but he caught their wrist, easily stopping them.

“It’s me,” he whispered. “It’s me, Ranboo, you’re okay. It’s Sneeg.” 

They froze, confusion mixing with the fear in their expression. 

“I need you to trust me right now.”

He could see them trying to make sense of what he was saying, of his presence there, of everything. 

Then they nodded. 

Thank god.

“I need you to stay quiet. I’m going to pick you up, and I’m going to run. You need to hold on. That’s all you need to do, hold on and stay quiet. Can you do that?” 

They nodded again. 

He took his hand from their mouth and didn’t hesitate to hoist them up into his arms. Ranboo did their part, wrapping their arms and legs around him and holding on as best they could. It was a little awkward, they were a tall kid, but it was easier with them holding on. They were light, too. Lighter than they should be. He ignored it. They would get help back at 13. His job was to get them there. 

Exiting the cell, he nearly ran into Techno, who was being kept upright by another one of the guys who had come along, his name was… not coming to mind. 

“Watch where you’re going,” Sneeg whispered, knowing his relief at seeing another one of their own alive and breathing was clear in his voice.

“What, didn’t expect me to be standing?” Techno asked, voice rough.

“Can you really call that standing?” Sneeg replied. “Come on.”

As much as he’d like to see where Niki was, they had been told to only worry about themselves and the person they were trying to get out, and trust that everyone knew what they were doing. Sneeg had been lucky to run into Techno, but now it was time to move. 

They had barely made it into the stairwell when the generator kicked in, lights flooding the floor and a delayed alarm started to sound, only now registering the forced open doors. Ranboo flinched at the sound, clinging to Sneeg even tighter. 

“It’s okay,” he said quietly, though he really didn’t know if it was. 

He really hoped he wasn’t about to get both of them killed. 

No time to think about that. He needed to focus on getting to the roof and getting out of there. He also needed to pretend that things were going to plan, because he could already feel Ranboo’s breathing and heart rate picking up. He couldn’t blame them. The whole thing was probably—no, definitely—terrifying. 

Despite being used to physical exertion, running up several flights of stairs while carrying a teenager was exhausting. He just had to keep pushing forward, though. He would be out soon enough, and then he could get Ranboo home, and they would get the care they needed, and maybe it would feel like everything might eventually be okay. 

The relief of getting to the roof and seeing their hovercraft waiting was cut short when the gunfire started. Shit. Luck had been on their side for too long, and it had run out. He only had to make it from the stairs to the hovercraft. That was it. He was so close, so close to getting them both out of there. 

The gunfire was coming from behind them, which was good because Sneeg had a bulletproof vest, and all Ranboo had to shield them was him. If the bullets were coming from the other side, they would have nothing. 

A bullet found its target in one of the guys who had been next to Sneeg, and Ranboo made a choked sound, probably having seen it happen far better than Sneeg was able to. 

He was about to tell Ranboo to close their eyes and keep their head down when a bullet caught him in the leg, sending a wave of white-hot pain through him. He stumbled, losing his footing and his hold on Ranboo, and they both hit the ground hard. 

Ranboo was at his side in a second, pulling on his arm frantically. 

“Come on, Sneeg, please.” It was the first time they’d spoken, and their voice was raspy and weak. “Get up, please.”

“Can you run?” he asked hurriedly, trying to ignore the blood he could feel seeping out of the wound. The guards would be closing in. 

Ranboo shook their head, and he wasn’t sure if it was an actual no, or if they just wouldn’t leave him.

“You need to go,” he stressed. “You need to leave.”

“Not without—”

Ranboo was cut off by the guy who had been helping Techno picking them up. They shrieked Sneeg’s name, trying to free themself from his hold, but they were too weak to put up any real fight.

At least he knew Ranboo was going to make it out. He was dead weight at this point, though. He’d known there was a chance he would die here. At least he was going to die knowing Ranboo would be okay.

“No being a martyr for you.” A familiar voice broke through his somewhat dramatic thoughts, and then Phil was pulling him to his feet. 

Phil was meant to stay back in the hovercraft, he had been part of the group keeping an eye on what was happening, but he had apparently abandoned his post for Sneeg’s sake. 

“You’ve run on worse than that,” he added, half-supporting, half-dragging Sneeg along with him.

He was right. Sneeg gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move through the pain, unable to come up with a witty retort with the pain clouding his mind. 

It was a miracle that the two of them made it. They must have been the last ones, too, because the craft was moving nearly before they were on it.

The doors closed and Phil lowered Sneeg to the ground, back against the wall, both of them breathing heavily. 

Before he could even start to ask about Ranboo, they were back at his side, arms thrown around him and face pressed into his shoulder. It couldn’t be very comfortable, what with the bulletproof vest, but he doubted they would be letting go any time soon. He put an arm around them, giving them a squeeze.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly. “We’re okay.”

“Well, unless they shoot us out of the sky,” Jack said, sounding all too happy for having said something so grim.

Of course, the reason he was happy was clear enough, seeing as Niki was laying with her head on his lap, looking much worse for wear, but awake and alive. 

“Thanks, I needed to hear that,” Sneeg replied dryly. 

“Let me look at that leg,” Phil interrupted, stopping Jack from coming up with a defense. 

“But it’s gonna hurt,” Sneeg complained.

“It’ll hurt more if you bleed out.” 

“Let him look at it,” Ranboo said, muffled by his shoulder and… oh. He hadn’t realized they were crying. “I don’t want you to die.”

Usually, he would point out that he had been joking, that obviously he wasn’t going to just sit there and bleed out. But he doubted Ranboo was in a good enough state to pick up on that, and it was better to just comfort them than backtrack and explain that he didn’t mean it in the first place.

“I won’t die,” he told them, gentler than usual. “And of course I’ll let him look at it.”

They nodded but didn’t reply, apparently satisfied with his assurance. Or too tired to keep protesting. 

He made a point not to look at what Phil was doing, because it would probably be a little nauseating if he did. Sneeg didn’t like watching himself lose blood. The pain was enough without the visual. 

“You’re going to need stitches,” Phil informed him.

“Yeah, duh.” He’d thought that was a given. “Can it wait until I can get something for the pain?” 

“You can get something for the pain right now,” Phil reminded him. “We’re fully stocked.”

They were, too. They had a medic and everything, prepared for the worst case scenario when it came to the conditions everyone would be in when they were rescued. 

“I’ll get the medic,” Phil continued, standing. “Don’t die before I’m back.” 

“I’d never.” 

With Phil off to find someone to give Sneeg stitches, he turned his attention to Ranboo, who hadn’t moved since they first got to him. 

“They’re gonna need to give me stitches, but I’m going to be okay,” he told them gently. “You’re probably going to have to let go for that, though.” 

They held on tighter in response, which wasn’t exactly promising. 

“It’ll be okay, you can—” Well… they probably shouldn’t be in the room. That didn’t seem like a good idea. “You’ll be with—” 

He had been going to say Techno, because Ranboo and Techno were fairly close, but he suddenly realized that Techno wasn’t in the main holding area with them. He must be okay, seeing as Phil hadn’t been deeply distraught. Probably being treated for his own injuries. 

“You can stay with Phil and Niki and Jack.” 

“We can have a party,” Jack interjected, obviously trying to keep the mood light.

Ranboo shook their head, more frantic this time.

“It won’t take long, I promise. They’re not gonna waste drugs on knocking me out, just gonna numb my leg and do some stitches, then I’ll be back.”

He supposed he didn’t actually know that, but he was going to make some assumptions for the sake of getting Ranboo to calm down. Not that it was working. If anything, they were getting more agitated, their breath was starting to quicken again and they were trembling worse than before. 

“I’ll ask someone to keep giving you updates, how about that?” 

He was really lost on what would help at this point. Ranboo might be a little emotional, but they were usually logical enough. Even when they were terrified, most of the time they could force themself to do what needed to be done, but no amount of logic or convincing seemed to be helping now. Not that he blamed them. He didn’t know what they’d just gone through, but he was pretty sure that if he was in their shoes, he would also be clinging on to whatever comfort he could find. 

“They’re ready for you,” Phil said, rejoining them.

“You a receptionist now?” Sneeg asked.

Phil rolled his eyes. “Do you want stitches or not?”

“No one really wants stitches, do they?” he replied, a little distracted trying to figure out how he was going to get Ranboo to let go. “Ran, you gotta let go.”

“No!” Ranboo cried, grabbing onto the fabric of his jacket like that might be enough to keep him there.

“I need to get my leg dealt with,” he said, a little firmer this time. 

“I’ll stay with you.”

“You’ll stay out here,” he replied. “I’ll be back as fast as I can—”

“No, you won’t!” they cut him off, voice desperate. “You’ll die! You’ll die! They told me you died! They showed me you died, you’re going to die, I saw your body, I saw it—” their words dissolved into sobs, their whole body shaking.

He didn’t bother asking what they meant by that. It wouldn’t be hard for the Capitol to convince them that he was dead. They had plenty of ways to alter people’s perception of reality, and considering how sick and starving Ranboo must have been, it would be easy to play with their idea of what was real. 

He’d like to just sit there and comfort them, try to convince them that it was all okay now, but he was starting to feel woozy from the blood he was losing and he didn’t think they would be feeling better any time soon. 

“I won’t die,” he said softly, though it was useless and he knew it. “I’ll actually be less likely to die.” 

It didn’t seem like they were hearing him anymore, too lost in whatever they were certain was going to happen.

Phil knelt beside Sneeg. “We really need to get you stitched up,” he said apologetically.

“Trust me, I know.” 

He gently tried to loosen Ranboo’s hold on him, knowing he could easily shove them off but not wanting to be too forceful. 

“No!” they shrieked. “No! I’m not going!”

“Ranboo—”

“No!” 

He should really be relieved they had enough energy in them to be doing this, but he doubted that they actually did. They were probably running on adrenaline and nothing else. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself if—”

“You’re gonna die!” 

The guy who had helped Techno, and then carried Ranboo to the hovercraft, joined the three of them, giving Sneeg a nod before helping pull Ranboo off of him.

As was expected, they didn’t react well, crying out at the sudden presence of another person. They fought against him, unsuccessfully, trying to grab onto Sneeg again before they were too far.

“It’s okay, bud,” Sneeg tried to reassure, but he doubted Ranboo could hear him very well over their own sobbing. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

He hated this. Hated seeing them like this. Hated that they were so scared and there was nothing he could do. Usually, he had at least some ability to make them feel better, but now he was useless. He couldn’t help but feel like it was his own fault for not making sure 13 got them out of the Arena with everyone else. None of this would be happening if he’d just done right by them the first time around. 

Ranboo responded by biting the arm of the guy who was holding them. He swore loudly, and Sneeg really didn’t blame him, it looked painful, but it clearly scared Ranboo, who started struggling even more, yanking and scratching at the guy’s arms. To his credit, he didn’t let go. Sneeg wasn’t entirely sure what Ranboo would do if they weren’t being restrained at this point, but he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be good. 

One of the medical staff emerged from the other part of the hovercraft, a syringe in hand. It was pretty easy to guess what was in it, especially when she made a beeline for Ranboo. They were aware enough to see her, and they made one last attempt to escape, managing to kick Sneeg in the side as they did. It wasn’t particularly painful, especially compared to his leg, but it was enough to make him look down, and by the time he looked up again, whatever was in the syringe had been administered. 

The sedative acted quickly, thank god, because Sneeg didn’t think he could sit and watch Ranboo struggle any longer, but he also couldn’t just leave them there. He just wished they hadn’t looked so scared as they lost consciousness. 

Phil wordlessly helped Sneeg up, the medic joining them to support him on the other side, and they brought him over to the other half of the craft, which was set up like a makeshift hospital. 

Sneeg shoved aside the guilt that built with the distance between him and Ranboo. There was no other choice, no other outcome that would have worked, but he still felt awful about it. For now, he needed to just focus on getting stitches, though. He could be there for Ranboo again when he wasn’t in danger of slowly and painfully bleeding out. 

***

The full day passed before Ranboo woke up again, and at a certain point the sedative had definitely worn off, meaning most of this was just what their body needed. It was good, Sneeg knew it was good, but he also wanted to see them awake again. He supposed he hoped it would be a little better this time.

They had been back in 13 for a good part of the day, now. His leg was stitched up, there were no expected complications, he just had to not exert himself too much for a bit and then he would be good as new. It had only been within the hour, though, that he was allowed to join Ranboo. 

He was lucky. Tommy and Tubbo had argued, then begged to be let in to stay the night, but had ultimately been sent to their bunks for the night and told they could visit in the morning. It probably wouldn’t go well if Ranboo woke up alone, though, so it was a relief to all of them that someone could be there. 

They looked a little better. Cleaner, at least, which meant someone must have washed them up. They were in 13’s hospital wear, too, and hooked up to an IV, probably for nutrition and dehydration. He hadn’t gotten much of an update on their health in general yet, and probably wouldn’t until the next morning, but comforted himself with the fact that he probably would’ve been told if something was horribly wrong. 

Ranboo shifted slightly and he sat up, watching for other signs that they were waking up. It seemed that they might be, their breathing was slightly faster, too. 

“Hey,” he said, voice quiet. If they weren’t waking up, he didn’t want to be the one to wake them, but if they were, he wanted them to know they were safe before they could freak out. “You’re not in the Capitol anymore. You’re safe, now.” 

Ranboo opened their eyes, glancing around the room without a hint of recognition. 

“You’re with me,” he added, patting their arm, then leaving his hand to rest there. 

“Sneeg?” they asked, voice quiet. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He smiled reassuringly. “We’re in District 13. There’s… there’s a lot to explain. All you need to know right now is you’re safe, got it? You’re safe, I’m alive, and we’re gonna be okay.”

Ranboo put their hand over his, holding it weakly. “Got it,” they mumbled, closing their eyes again.

“Get some more rest,” he said, like they could do anything else.

“You’ll stay?” Ranboo asked, voice almost too quiet to hear.

“Always,” he promised. “Now sleep.”

“Rule one,” they started, and he really wasn’t sure how they hadn’t passed out again yet. “Always listen to Sneeg.

“And when do you ever follow that rule?” 

Ranboo didn’t reply, having lost the battle against sleep.

“Never,” Sneeg replied for them. “You never do.” 

And yet he still put up with them, for some reason. 

He sighed and leaned forward, resting his head on his arm on the edge of the bed. If he was going to keep his promise to Ranboo, he had to get comfortable somehow. 

[dreamweaved]

haha tee hee we all joke and laugh about it but i'm so serious rn

briar's abilities as a halovian are kind of terrifying? i always thought that any kind of ability or power that manipulates the mind, was scary. and briar in particular is able to manipulate emotions to an extreme degree. generally speaking, he has morals, and doesn't like doing it if he feels he doesn't need to. but, for anyone who has seen the character mantis from GoTG... specifically the MCU. his abilities effect emotion, but with the addition of suggestion, he can sort of twist it to further his benefit in the long run. just like mantis can.

IE... he can change someone's emotion, similar to the way we can in hsr with the help of clockie. but, he has a much wider scope; and instead of just joy, he can turn it into a specific kind of joy. he can make a suggestion. he can specify whatever it is maybe that's causing it, or it causes. " you feel like dancing " ect ect.

it's not permanent, he can't really make up any kind of timeframe, and again- briar falls into chaotic good. he has a moral compass that prevents him from abusing it too much. as well as a threshold i feel... where too much, too often, can cause strain. but, if he is pushed hard enough, or genuinely believes he has no other choice... he will use this ability to it's fullest extent. and for some that can be quite scary, literally. inducing crippling fear, among other types of negative emotions that will incapacitate people so he can dip out. or gain some kind of advantage in a fight.

people with strong enough wills can of course push back against this. limiting the time his abilities have hold of them less and less depending on how hard they try to fight it. and he cannot really effect anything that's non organic, or doesn't at least have a semi organic consciousness? but i feel that's going to be a given.

having telepathy goes without needing to be said. which is why this post isn't really about that lmao. but briar can project messages or thoughts to people he's within a certain distance of. the distance isn't very far tbh. it's not his strongest skill and only comes into play when he's gotta talk to sb more secretively.

[mangonatural]

Rules: Make a 24 hour poll with the names of your WIPs, let it run, then work for 10 minutes for every vote the winner receives.

Thank you for the tag, @angelcasendgame!!!!! I am not sure I will be able to work on anything very soon just because life came after me again, and turns out I'm gonna be moving over the next month or so, but I really do hope I can find time!!

None of these have names yet lol. I put the SPN ones first, but technically I've been trying to break my writer's block by returning to The Great Gatsby (It's all Nick/Gatsby btw, just realized that might not be immediately evident) with limited success. It's always come easier for me. But all of this is stuff I do actively want to work on.

Ohh I don't know who to tag. I'm sure everyone in this circle has been tagged already, and most of the people I talk to regularly enough to know about their projects have more or less left Tumblr... I do absolutely want to pass this your way though, @antique-ro-man!! (It's Wes, btw!) I also wanna tag @heyfagbutt! And then anyone else who sees this and wants to participate, I also encourage it!! This is such a cool idea :D !!

Long, rambling explanations down here ⬇⬇

I think the name is pretty explanatory? The gist of it is they go after the same guy and become pseudo-enemies but they keep bumping into each other like this and decide to work together after a while 👍 this is a really bad hook LMAO. Anyway, I'm trying to build on the idea that they work REALLY well together when they do it intentionally but fail comically when they don't.

Pretty much what it says on the tin as well. No Supernatural AU. Dean goes to a community college to get a certification to help with his work elsewhere, but Cas, a figure drawing model, catches him drawing (which Dean's been doing on and off as a hobby) and tries to get him to sign up for the arts program.

I technically only have a summary of this, and I'm not entirely sure if I will write it all out, but I do want to at least put more time into the development before I dedicate to giving up on it bc of scope lol. I just have SUCH a soft spot for fake relationship AUs. Also, I just found out that while I have FINALLY aged into independent FAFSA eligibility, I am once again tax bracketed out. Anyway, financial abuse is real and I want to project my suffering onto Dean. Also immigrant Cas, but I haven't decided where I want him to be from yet. I think this has a lot of potential for some pretty hefty character redesigns too so it's also compelling to me from that angle. I guess I could also write it for TGG, but I did initially think of it for Destiel, so.

I don't know how to explain this one very well except that I had unhelpfully written "poolboy au" in my notes and then proceeded to forget what the hell I meant. This fic was an attempt to resurrect that but ended up being a funky modern West Coast re-imagining where Gatsby can't even "make it" as much as he wants to, and Nick can't find a place to live except for a less-than-legally rented pool house. It's not meant to be a full rewrite or anything though.

Uhhh yeah, I'm keeping the details private for this one ahaha but that's just because it wasn't supposed to be a big deal and I told a friend she would see what it was when it was done...like oh god probably a month ago at this point... My original scope for this was quite small, but research for it, indecision, and a nasty case of writer's block that I've had for nearly a year now have kept development a bit slow. Hopefully, I'll finish it before the year comes to a close.

I also don't know how to explain this one well other than "after being rejected by Daisy (Canon Divergent), Gatsby attempts to buy his way into a bewildered Nick's heart. Though the fic is from Nick's POV, Gatsby's just had his worldview shattered and is in a bit of denial, but instead of pursuing Daisy harder, he channels all of that energy into Nick (though he's not really sure why he's doing it at first). I wasn't sure what to put up at the top because I absolutely don't want my code name for this public at least until it's done LMAO.

[velkyr]

🎈, 🤍, & 🪄 for the writer ask meme!

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

I think it's fairly fixed - that's not to say it hasn't evolved over time, I've definitely noticed it... developing, for lack of a better word, now that I'm knee deep in a longfic for the first time. e.g. I enjoy messing around with dialogue a lot more than I used to :> the fundamentals remain the same though:

tons of description of the current setting and how characters are feeling about/reacting to a given situation

focusing on the sensory experience (mostly sight/sound but there's a fair amount of touch in there too these days lol)

usually a third person limited perspective where I try my hardest to narrow it down to only what that character can perceive, think and conceptualise, unless there's something mega specific I want to highlight from outside that scope. sometimes the characters are flat out wrong and we love that for them here <3

🤍 what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

hmm I guess it's not so much that people didn't "get" it per se, but at the time I wrote a season that never ends I remember being pretty happy for once about the level of introspection it had in it + being able to work with what was, for me, a kind of cathartic supportive sibling interaction that got as much of the spotlight as the ship itself did. it didn't really get the traction that the other two fics in that mini-series did, which I was mildly bummed out about at the time; I think it's partially down to the fact that the shipping isn't stemming from direct in-person interaction for them, so hey, what can you do!

🪄 what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

I do less than I perhaps should 💀 but yeah typically I just. take a flat out break from anything creative or adjacent for at least a day or two for my own sanity. especially atm when I'm trying to churn out chapters every 2-3 weeks, and those chapters in and of themselves are taking maybe 30-40+ hours of my time each. having a buffer is necessary aftercare lmao. I try not to think too much about writing at all in that gap (though it is inevitable I will, I have fixation brain (terminal)) and just focus on playing video games and, god forbid, do something to put a dent in the deathtrap pile of books I need to read sat on my dresser <3

[teslacoils-and-hubris]

long time no update on the torture labyrinth huh? I finally made it up to ground level! thats 27 completed floors out of 77! I haven't been working on it for a while so this amount of progress isn't surprising but its nice to have a notable landmark to show my progress like the entrance lol

context: I'm making something from one of my worldbuilding projects in minecraft, the Obelisk. It's a 50 block diameter tower spanning from bedrock to build limit, filled with 77 floors each with a randomly created maze leading to stairs to other floors. I've even thrown in a few trick stair cases that lead to dead end floors :3c Still bingeing the Magnus Archives while I build this thing, and since I only listen to tma while working on this its a good measure of the time i've poured into this progect. I just finished MAG 57, and its more or less an hour an episode so lets say 57 hours of my life so far? definatly more since I only started listening after i cleared out the hole to bedrock and set up the outline of the circle lmao but I'm not going to bother trying to calculate how long that took

It is basically impossible to see the full scope of how huge this thing is because you literally can't see all of it without adjusting render distance something massive lmao, maybe ill play around and see if i can get a decent screenshot showing more of the tower

[crvvys]

after this phone fiasco with my mom and grandma I do need to just speak up more bc I understand both of them better than each other and themselves and I predicted this whole scenario lol. if it were me, I would’ve given my grandma the illusion of autonomy when choosing her next phone.

bc she has the emotional intelligence of a small child and a lot of dignity and when these people hit like 85, you can’t just let them do whatever they want bc they do not understand the kind of world they’re navigating. they will not always know what’s best for themselves when it involves technology and especially when they let their spouse handle all of that up until their spouse dies. and I’d think my mom would understand this but she has poor social awareness lmao so now she’s irritated and my grandma is irritated and I am mediating a situation I predicted simply bc I didn’t want to be bothered with being called bossy by my grandma even though all of the decisions I make for her and to help her always benefit her and she’s so thankful later.

an 89 year old woman with memory issues, emotional intelligence issues and a strong aversion to handling difficult paperwork situations should not be in charge of picking her own phone bc when you let her do that, she will inevitably pick the wrong phone and then be upset and expect you to just know how to fix the situation bc she thinks androids and iPhones are the same phone when they are not and not understand why you can’t easily figure out how to help her with her new phone that you have very little understanding of bc you have not had an android in like 15 years lmao. my mom should have stepped in and warned her that if she gets an android and not an iPhone she will face more issues learning how to navigate that phone bc it’s very different and will not be easy to learn. lead her to the decision that will be the choice that makes her happy long term lol. and that means understanding that later she will be happy that she followed your advice bc she didn’t understand the full scope of her situation and was picking based on extremely limited knowledge. bc now that she’s unhappy with her choice she tells you “well I didn’t understand this would happen!” and make it your responsibility to fix it bc nothing is ever her fault and block out the parts where you have consistently tried helping her over the past few days.

if I’m having issues navigating the android I know my grandma will if I leave her with it so I would’ve had her pick another iPhone. or warned her about getting a Samsung but since they’ve gone through two phones trying to figure this out, my grandma is determined to stick with the phone she has. I think she’s stubborn enough to do it but I don’t want to hear the incessant complaining. so for next time, I will once again have to give her the illusion of choices. this seems so small but shit like this happens all the time here.

[gabunomigrlhasfeelings]

disclaimer: includes my deadname lmao

he makes me want to be a boy. ugh.

it's not his fault, not at all. but. sometimes it just breaks me a bit and makes me wish i were anything but who i am right now. if only i weren't trans, maybe i could be within arm's reach.

sure, it wouldn't be a guarantee. but it wouldn't be the soulcrushing sword of damocles lingering over my head as i sit in his car, or as i admire from a few feet away.

all i know is that he only likes boys. i'm never going to be one, but right now in this very *very* limited scope, in this frenzied tunnel vision that i'll be stuck in for a while, i hate that about me.

fuck. i might try it. as bitter of a taste as it leaves in my mouth, if it means he'll see me, then i'd let him call me by the names i let nobody call me anymore. not even myself.

if he might like dan in a way that he could never like me, i'll be dan for him.

and part of me screams out in pain with that, but another, louder part yearns. that part of minty? she's desperate.

so ive been telling myself to be more okay with "boy" terms despite the ick. trying to stop myself from wincing because if that's part of what it takes to be wanted — not even that, it that's the bare minimum to even be considered — then i will gladly go back to that hell for half a second of heaven.

and of course he responds in the sweetest way possible; he cares about my dysphoria over his own comfort. but for a moment i just wish he were a bit more selfish. i don't know why.

he makes me wish i could be the kind of boy that has slightly problematic beliefs and is kind of a dick but is hot. he makes me wish i were a hunk.

and right now, without outside pressure, honestly, the closest i can force myself to be is "trying to be a boy but in the studio ghibli character way."

this is weird. normally with an fp, i copy their personality, and honestly that's literally what i've been doing for the past few months, slowly but surely letting the version of him i see take over. but for some reason, i don't just want to be close to him, i want to be something he wants. im not entirely sure if this is just an fp anymore.

i still don't want to be dan again. i killed that motherfucker years ago. but if he's what he wants, i can bring him back from the dead. i don't know anymore and it's scary.

…why am i like this.