#with a dot in the second bracket

[inutaffy]

happy pride from a closeted transmasc 💕🏳️‍⚧️

image descriptions below!

[ID: a collection of 7 panels with a white background drawn messily and mostly in black

panel 1 is a box with text inside that reads "do you remember who you were?" in all caps. the first "you" is blue, and the second "you" is pink.

panel 2 shows a simple silhouette of a person standing, with negative space around them and scribbles on the outside, contained in a box. text above them says "i think…" with blue accents on the dot of the first i and the ellipsis.

panel 3 is an eye and an eyebrow, with a pink star drawn in the eye. text below says "i was bright-eyed."

panel 4 shows the tip of a nose and an open mouth, showing teeth, with a gap between the two front teeth. text below says "i had a gap" with a pink bracket under the word gap.

panel 5 illustrates lungs with pink and black scribbles inside. the text beside reads "and bad lungs." there is a cigarette with pink smoke and an inhaler with the cap and medicine colored in pink below the text.

panel 6 is a young girl with long hair tied up with a pink hair tie and smiling with her gap showing. text to the side says "i was a girl."

panel 7 shows a box scribbled in pink. to the right it shows a different view of the same box, with one side colored pink and the rest outlined in perspective, showing blue scribbles inside. top text says "and now," bottom text says "i'm much more complicated than that." /End ID]

thank u @yearninginblue for helping me :)!

[avonne-writes]

https://www.tumblr.com/avonne-writes/744467914520936448/httpswwwtumblrcomavonne-writes74446459189503

omg i really love this because it’s such a casual and easy thing to do so maybe in the moment bucky just goes for it but immediately he’s noticed how buck has gone stiff and maybe it’s hard to put those dots together so eventually (i always see them having these difficult convos when bucky is cuddling buck late at night and his guard is down) he asks him about it, exactly in the way u said in a very precise and specific way, and buck not only confirms but is relaxed enough to give further details.

i think a part of bucky would def feel bad when he hears it’s about buck’s dad even though he had no way of knowing and buck def does not hold it against him. he definitely would get over it very quickly, i just think in the moment when ur in a vulnerable position and something happens that’s sort of jarring for u it would have a big effect on u

I absolutely agree! I wrote a drabble, although it goes a little bit differently. I think it would be interesting to see them talk about Gale's hard no's when they're cuddling at night and the darkness and each other's closeness make it easier to talk.

Short nsfw drabble below

Bucky is sat up against the headboard, his boxers still on but for little purpose other than decoration because Gale's hand is inside them, feeling him up, pulling at him lazily as they make out in his bed. Gale’s knees bracket Bucky's thighs and his weight traps Bucky with barely any room for left to shift towards Gale's touch. He can still move his arms though, and move he does, running his palms all over Gale’s bare torso, then his thighs, teasing inside the legs of his underwear before sliding them up and to the back to squeeze his ass.

Gale hums into Bucky's mouth. "I'm gonna ride you."

The noise Bucky makes is the most embarrassingly eager sound that has ever left his throat. A shudder of arousal races through his body. He loves it when Gale just tells him like that, without uncertainty. When he lets Bucky anticipate it. With one hand, he cups the back of Gale's head and pulls him into a rough kiss, with the other, he slides Gale's underwear down over the globe of his ass. He runs his hand over the bare skin there in restless excitement, feeling the curve of muscle fit perfectly in his palm, then gives it a firm smack.

Gale goes stiff as a board and stops moving.

His hands withdraw, and he breaks the kiss, pulling his boxers back up and leaning back on his haunches. He holds Bucky's hands away from his body by pushing gently against his wrists.

Bucky’s heart stops for a moment, all his thoughts screaching to a halt. He frowns at Gale and finds him frowning back, confusion mirroring discomfort. Bucky’s cock, so ready to shoot off just a second ago, deflates to half-mast. "What’s wrong?"

Gale’s nostrils flare. His frown doesn’t ease up, but he’s not pulling further away either. Their arms are still frozen stretched out by Gale’s sides, hands brushing each other. "Nothing."

Bucky clicks his tongue. "Don't tell me it's nothing. You went from a hundred to zero in two seconds." He drops his hands to Gale's knees. "You don’t like it when I spank you, do you?"

Gale's face turns red. He averts his gaze to the side. His expression smooths out into careful neutrality. "I don’t."

Bucky moves his hands up to Gale's waist, then wraps his arms around him. He's nervous for a split second, but Gale reacts well. He loops his arms around Bucky's shoulders in turn and leans forward until his face is tucked into Bucky's neck. They're silent for a few minutes. His curiosity is killing Bucky but he tries to resist pushing, because Gale never yields to that.

His patience pays off. Eventually, Gale sits back again and gives him a look. "Thinking about my dad kills the mood."

"Your dad?" Bucky's eyebrows rise. He too, was spanked as a kid a few times. Nothing unusual about that. But that never made him associate the act with his parents.

Gale starts stroking Bucky's chest with his fingertips, drawing his blunt nails over it too, as if trying to distract him, but Bucky's focus has already shifted back to his brain from his groin.

"He expected discipline. And I -" Gale tilts his head back, smiling without any joy in his eyes. "- was a very naughty child."

"I doubt that."

"Dad thought so."

"He also thought feeding you was second to his bets at the pony tracks."

Gale smiles at Bucky sadly, then gives him a kiss. When he pulls back, he presses their foreheads together. "I don’t wanna be punished." He whispers against Bucky's lips with uncharacteristical openness.

Bucky pulls him into a tighter embrace and kisses him back. "Never. Never with me."

His next kiss swallows Gale’s answering sigh of relief.

[butmakeitgayblog]

for the reverse trope writing: divorce of convenience (something new or an au of your choice, both sound fun!)

Her eyes watch as the ink bleeds slowly into the paper. They watch neat, slanted script combine in the fragmented loops and dashes that make up that achingly familiar signature. X marks the spot. On the dotted line. Not a single scribble out of place; right where the lawyer had highlighted it in garish neon yellow.

Forever and ever.

They were eleven, and it's promising to always be best friends. The kind that stick together through thick and thin. Like white on rice, as their teacher  often said. 

Forever and ever.

They were fifteen, and it's smiling with the awkwardness of young love. The kind that sets fire to racing hearts from a first kiss stolen behind their school's abandoned gymnasium. 

Forever and ever.

They were seventeen, and it's shaking hands that still can't believe they get to touch their best friends that way. The kind of way that makes them both let out hungry sounds and pretty moans in the backseat of her dad's station wagon.

Forever and ever.

They were nineteen, and it's stiff-jawed goodbyes through desperate kisses. The kind rotten with promises that this isn't the end. That it's just a ‘see you later’, but never goodbye. Not for them.

Forever and ever.

They were twenty-eight, and it's handwritten vows and white satin gowns with matching bridal bouquets. The kind that they picked out together to remind them that all this was worth it, that it's finally the day they'd been planning for since their junior year in college. The culmination of sleepless nights and teary phone calls from three states away.

Forever and ever.

They were thirty, and it's whispering in the nursery  of their freshly furnished house, standing wrapped in each other's arms at the edge of an adorably small bassinet. The kind decked out in purple frills with sunshine yellow along the trim, because they'd agreed from the first plus sign to not know the sex. It's fingers running through brown curls carefully enough not to wake their baby up, while watching lashes twitch in dreaming that hide those baby blue eyes. The exact shape and shade that'd had them both wrapped around a tiny pinky from the start. 

Forever and ever.

They are fifty-four, and it's an empty nest that's too quiet in the house that sometimes feels too big. The kind they'd joked about missing for years, but now that it's here, they don't entirely know what to do with it. 

It's medical bills, and denied claims for benefits, and meetings with stuffy lawyers who explain the finer points of income brackets. It's physical therapy visits and losing her job at the hospital and endless prescriptions that never seem to be covered by their insurance. It's everything, and all the time, because life refuses to slow down for even one damn second, despite a hip that simply will not work anymore. 

They are fifty-four, and Clarke never thought she'd be here. That they'd make this kind of choice. Never thought she'd feel quite this stuck. Quite this useless. Never thought she'd be in this situation at all.

But it's clean and it's neat, just the way they like it. A mutual agreement for them both. A fresh start after the accident, one that'll let them move on with their lives, instead of trying to hang on to this thing that only leaves them drowning. 

At least that's what they'd agreed. 

She watches her wife— her ex-wife, dot the i's of her name with an overly dramatic flourish. Watches her click the pen with her thumb and toss it aside with a sigh from deep in her bones.

She smiles and feels her chest squeeze with that familiar pang of deep friendship and love.

“Cheers,” Clarke says, holding up her flute of champagne. 

She'd had to hobble through four different specialty liquor stores just to find it, but it'd felt fitting to toast the signing of their divorce papers with the same bubbly they'd shared on their wedding day.

Lexa picks up her glass and clinks it soundly against hers, only managing the barest sip around a smile of her own. “Cheers, single lady.”

“Mm. This is good.”

“Even better than I remember from the first time,” Lexa agrees as her gaze makes a lazy rake over Clarke's body.

It's not lost on Clarke how ridiculous it is to be blushing over the signed stack of her divorce papers, but something about the way Lexa looks at her has always set her on fire. 

“So,” she tries, casually, setting aside her cane and leaning heavier against the kitchen table, “what are you going to do next?”

Lexa takes another sip of her champagne, watching her closely over the rim. She swallows with a flex of that elegant throat and shuffles closer, sets her glass down on Clarke's other side, effectively boxing her in. 

“Go to Disneyland.”

The sound of Clarke's snort rings through the kitchen. “Smartass.”

“What about you?” Lexa asks with a bite to her lips, hands still bracketing the sides of Clarke's waist and eyes twinkling with mischief. “Any big plans for the future, newly divorced Ms. Griffin?”

Clarke scoffs. “Nice try. But it's still ‘Ms. Griffin-Woods’ to you.”

“Oh? Is that right?”

“Uhuh,” Clarke nods and loops her arms around Lexa's shoulders. “Sorry not sorry, but I'm never giving that one back.”

Lexa hums and presses closer. Paints her body to Clarke's curves and breathes her in the same way she has for forty years. 

“Greedy, but I think I can live with that.”

“Such a hardship. I seem to remember you loving that about me.”

“Among so many things.”

Clarke moans when Lexa's lips find the hollow dip of her neck, relaxing into the wet warmth of a plump, suckling kiss. Champagne has always made Lexa brazenly affectionate. She tips head back to grant more room and sucks in a gasp at the nibble of teeth. Tangles her fingers in greying, brunette hair that only serves to make her bombshell of a wife look that much more distinguished. 

Well. Her ex-wife, that is…

Hands trail down Clarke's hips and wrap tight around her thighs and before she can yelp a single word she's lifted onto the table. 

Lexa lets out a half-laughed grunt when she gets Clarke settled in place, looking equally as amused as she does grateful that the little maneuver actually still worked after so many years.

“You good, baby?” Clarke chuckles along with her, mindlessly going to rub the shoulder that had started being a pain around birthday forty-seven. “Didn't pop anything, did you?”

“No, I'm good, I'm good,” Lexa says, smiling and shaking off her ill-coordinated prowess like the champ that she is. “That just used to be easier.”

“Is that a crack about my weight?”

“More like a crack about me being old.”

“Oh. Well then yeah.”

“Rude,” Lexa gasps, taking the hips in her hands and pulling them closer. Pressing Clarke firmly against her stomach. “There's still giddy up in this old girl, I'll have you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“My, my, Ms. Woods—”

“Griffin-Woods,” Lexa's quick to correct. Suddenly serious in how intensely she stares Clarke in the eyes. “You're not getting that back either.”

They share a look because things like this have never required words. Not for them. But with everything and all of it, with the ink still drying on the paper beside them, Clarke gives in to her last bit of worry. 

“You're still my girl,” she whispers. Swallows. Feels a stinging prickle along her eyes at the sudden need to feel this connection with her favorite person in the world. “Even with me, and having to do all this… You know we're still us, right? You're still my girl?”

Clarke melts into the kiss she knows is coming because she knows this woman better than anybody, and it feels more like a promise that nothing could ever break them than any piece of paper ever could. She wraps her good leg around Lexa's hip and deepens it, kisses back with every ounce of love her heart has to offer. Cherishes each massage of tongue and slide of lips that have met thousands of times before. 

Lexa kisses her once, twice more, and pulls back with a soothing smile.

“Always, love… Forever and ever.”

[mail-me-a-snail]

minutes of the meeting a control fic

“Dr. Darling,” Trench murmurs, “appears distracted.” Darling thins his lips. He’s anything but distracted, now; his eyes had held Trench’s the whole time the Director had been speaking. “You forgot a point,” he responds, carefully, at the same volume. “Did I.” “11:15am: Director Trench lights a cigarette.” A pause. “He looks Dr. Darling in the eye as he does it.” Trench considers this. He hums--the sound rumbles in the back of his throat. “So you were paying attention.” “To all the wrong things, maybe.” -- a trench/darling fic about the path that had been laid out for trench, 23 years in the making.

i haven't even finished this game but those two old men are haunting me. there is something deeply wrong with the both of them and i think they can only see that through the eyes of the other.

image descriptions and transcript under the cut

[id: the post contains two images of the same size. the first image has a light gray background. on the left side of the page, the words "federal bureau of control" are printed in bold, black letters. underneath it is "quarterly assessment" in the same style.

on the right side of the page is the logo of the federal bureau of control from the game control.

transcript begins:

10:30am: Meeting begins.

In attendance are Director Zachariah Trench, Dr. Casper Darling, alongside Helen Marshall and Alberto Tommasi. The meeting had been called to assess each department’s quarterly status.

10:45am: Tommasi releases an object of power into Dr. Darling’s care.

10:50am: After careful inspection, Dr. Darling remarks that the (here, the text is obscured by a black rectangle) may have power of its own, or it may be the power in question.

11:00am: Marshall, head of Operations, reports another venture into The Pit. Exact number of casualties is unknown, as the Mold had begun digestion immediately.

11:15; Director Trench lights a cigarette. He looks Dr. Darling in the eye as he does it.

11:20am: Director Trench then questions Dr. Darling about the entity, and the progress his department has made in containing it. 

Dr. Darling does not answer. Dr. Darling appears distracted.

11:30am: Break for lunch.

11:45am: Dr Darling sits in Director Trench’s office. He’s been thoroughly (another black rectangle censors the text).

on the bottom left of the image is the number 1, denoting the page number.

end transcript and id]

[id of page 2: the second image is the same shade of light gray as the first.

transcript begins:

12:00pm: Director Trench puts his cigarette out on Dr. Darling’s neck. Dr. Darling wishes he had done it sooner. 

12:05pm: Director Trench runs his (text is obscured) up the inside of Dr. Darling’s (text is obscured).

Dr. Darling lets him.

Dr. Darling reminds him they have 

the font changes to bigger, bolder text. the page's gray color turns white in a gradient. each sentence that follows is enclosed in angle brackets.

Twenty-five Minutes/Not Enough Time

to Themselves/To Enjoy

12:05pm: Director Trench  

The Push/the Pull

Synapses/Tendons

The Question/(text in red) The Answer

1:00pm:

Dot, Dot, Dot/...

The font returns to its original style.

Meeting adjourned.

end transcript and id]

[mistergandalf]

ULTIMATE TOLKIEN BLORBO MASTERPOST

Who is THE blorbo of the Tolkien fandom here on tumblr dot com? Let's find out!

What are the criteria for voting?

What is a blorbo to you? As Aragorn would say: What does your heart tell you? Therein lies your answer. For me, it's who I'd like the whump the most. Maybe for you it's who is the most shippable. Maybe it's the one that means the most to you for what they represent. Maybe it's your poor little meow meow (looking at you, Angbang lovers). Let your feelings guide you.

Is this only supposed to be about the books, or is it based on any Tolkien-based media?

This is about blorbos. Wherever you found your blorbo, that's fine. If you want to be a book purist about it, you're valid. If you love Thorin Oakenshield simply because Richard Armitage is hot, you are also valid.

***PLEASE ALSO NOTE that my blog is a Rings of Power positive blog! If you don’t like it that’s fine, but if you post negative comments or reblogs on my posts, I will block you! I don’t want negativity in my activity feed, thank you!***

When will polls be posted?

Polls will be posted daily at 12pm EDT (GMT -4), staggered by 5-10 minutes on each poll. There will be a day between final votes as the data will be needed for the next poll!

Schedule is as follows: (Updated because I’m dumb and didn’t realize how many rounds the second chance bracket has)

4/23 - Round One 4/25 - Round Two (Primary Bracket) 4/26 - Round Two (Second Chance Bracket) 4/27 - Round Three (Primary Bracket) 4/28 - Round Three (Second Chance Bracket) 4/30 - Round Four (Second Chance Bracket) 5/2 - Round Five (Second Chance Bracket) 5/4 - Round Six (Second Chance Bracket) 5/5 - Round Four (Primary Bracket) 5/7 - Round Seven (Second Chance Bracket) 5/9 - Round Eight (Second Chance Bracket) 5/10 - Round Five (Primary Bracket) - decides the finalist 5/12 - Round Nine (Second Chance Bracket) - decides the finalist 5/14 - FINAL ROUND - THE ULTIMATE TOLKIEN BLORBO

Check the tag #ultimate tolkien blorbo to see new posts! Feel free to share your thoughts in the tag as well!

I have more questions!

Okay, click the readmore then!

Hey! Why did you pair this character with that character?

Because I spent a whole evening googling how tournament brackets work (I am not a sports person) and then I did a lot of math and sorting.

Okay, but I really want to know!

WELL first I thought: "How can I quantify and rank blorbos?" The answer: AO3. I went into the Tolkien fandom general tag and ranked the first 32 characters by the number of fanfics in which they appear.*

Then I split them by story. I roughly kept Hobbit characters with Hobbit characters, LotR with LotR, and Silmarillion with Silmarillion to keep it as fair as possible and give all corners of the fandom a chance to see their blorbo win. Some characters are in multiple sources, like Elrond or Gandalf, so I tried to keep those characters with someone who is probably just as well-known.**

Then I followed the rules the internet told me about how tournaments work. The highest-ranked character goes with the lowest-ranked character, the second-highest with the second-lowest, etc.

And that's how I did it! It was a fantastic way to waste an afternoon.

*I may have eliminated and/or played with a couple options. Some of these characters had fewer fics than the character "OC," which makes sense. I took off Erestor because literally only Glorfindel stans would choose him, and Glorfindel is on here. I also lumped together Elladan and Elrohir because if you can tell them apart, it's because they're both your blorbos. Tolkien did NOT give them distinct personalities. Also if I didn’t lump them together, I wouldn’t be able to fit Celebrimbor, and that would be a shame.

**Characters who appear in multiple stories had their rankings weighted to account for that fact. I got a C in statistics in college, though, so I frankly have no idea if the way I weighted them is correct, nor do I care, because I'm satisfied with how the rankings turned out.

I don’t like how you did this!

Okay, don’t vote then. Nobody’s making you.

FORTH EORLINGAS! Have fun voting! As Gimli would say... May the best Dwarf win! ;)

Round One [results & analysis]

Thorin vs. Bard | Bilbo vs. Dwalin | Kili vs. Gandalf | Fili vs. Thranduil | Legolas vs. Eomer | Aragorn vs. Eowyn | Elrond vs. Elladan & Elrohir | Frodo vs. Merry | Gimli vs. Pippin | Samwise vs. Boromir | Faramir vs. Galadriel | Maedhros vs. Celebrimbor | Maedhros vs. Celebrimbor (RoP free version bc some of you are whiny babies) | Maglor vs. Finrod | Glorfindel vs. Morgoth | Sauron vs. Celegorm | Fingon vs. Feanor

Round Two [results & analysis]

Thorin vs. Bilbo | Legolas vs. Thranduil | Pippin vs. Éowyn | Maglor vs. Frodo | Gandalf vs. Samwise | Elrond vs. Maedhros | Faramir vs. Glorfindel | Sauron vs. Fëanor

Round Two (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Aragorn vs. Elladan & Elrohir | Gimli vs. Morgoth | Merry vs. Bard | Finrod vs. Celegorm | Boromir vs. Kíli | Fíli vs. Celebrimbor | Éomer vs. Galadriel | Fingon vs. Arwen

Round Three [results & analysis]

Bilbo vs. Legolas |  Éowyn vs. Frodo | Samwise vs. Elrond | Faramir vs. Fëanor

Round Three (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Aragorn vs. Gandalf | Gimli vs. Maedhros | Merry vs. Glorfindel | Finrod vs. Sauron | Boromir vs. Thorin | Celebrimbor vs. Thranduil | Éomer vs. Pippin | Arwen vs. Maglor

Round Four (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Aragorn vs. Gimli | Merry vs. Finrod | Boromir vs. Celebrimbor | Pippin vs. Arwen

Round Five (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Aragorn vs. Bilbo | Éowyn vs. Merry | Boromir vs. Elrond | Pippin vs. Fëanor

Round Six (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Aragorn vs. Éowyn | Boromir vs. Pippin

Round Four [results & analysis]

Legolas vs. Frodo | Samwise vs. Faramir

Round Seven (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Éowyn vs. Faramir | Pippin vs. Legolas

Round Eight (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Éowyn vs. Pippin

Round Five [results & analysis]

Frodo vs. Samwise

Round Nine (Second Chance Bracket) [results & analysis]

Éowyn vs. Frodo

FINAL ROUND

Samwise vs. Frodo

[mareagirls]

Could you do a hurt/comfort Peter x reader where some creep tried to follow her home? Only if you’re comfy! Thx for the fics. I like them already! :)

 here you go, lovely anon! I hope u like it!

cw: someone tries to follows the reader home, they also hit on her but it’s off-page

Peter Parker is studying when his phone begins to ring - loud and abrasive, overlapping the music that had been playing in his headphones seconds prior.

Slowly, he reaches out to grab his phone and turn it off. 

But then he brings it closer to his face and sees the name at the top of the screen and a picture of you smiling widely underneath it

Y/N.

Peter’s brow furrows. He knows you’re supposed to be at lunch with friends, and you told him before leaving that you’d take the subway back to his, even though he would have been more than happy to meet you at the restaurant.

-

"You know I could come meet you when you're done. We can go back to mine." Peter calls out to you from the kitchen. 

You’re still in your bedroom getting changed but Peter knows you hear him

“It’s okay, Peter.” he can hear the smile in your voice. “I know you wanted to revise today. I'll get the subway back.”

When you finally emerge from your room and Peter’s mouth goes dry. 

You’re wearing the sweetest little knee-length sundress - all flowery and light, golden jewellery around your wrists and neck. A vision, if Peter’s ever seen one.  

“What did I do to deserve you, pretty girl?” He says it mostly to himself but you must hear because you laugh and do a little twirl as you walk over to him.

"You’re a sap, Peter Parker.”

Peter bears your teasing no heed and pulls you close, one hand bracketing your waist whilst the other comes up to thumb your jawline - a smooth motion that has you leaning into him indulgently. 

-

He picks up.

“Hey, Y/N. How’s it going?”

“Peter?” 

Something’s wrong. 

The shaky way his name sounds out when you say it. The sharp gasps coming through the receiver. The faint clacking sound of of your heels speeding across pavement. 

Peter sits up properly without really knowing why yet.

“Y/N? Are you still with your friends?”

Your reponse is muffled as the rumble of cars echoes in the background, but Peter catches it anyway.

“Someone’s following me. Shit, Peter - I don’t know what to do, I don’t-” 

He’s out of his chair in seconds.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m coming to get you. Where are you right now?” Peter asks rapid-fire and reminds himself so slow down, because you’re already overwhelmed as it is and he doesn’t want you to panic any more.

“I think I’m near your apartment,” you choke a little as the words pour out of you. “This guy kept trying to hit on me on the subway and so I got off, but I think he got off too- and now he’s behind me, and I keep changing directions but he’s still there, and I-”

You’re close to tears. Peter can tell by the way your breath hitches and your voice shakes. The tell-tale signs of your evident distress make his ribs squeeze painfully around his lungs

You sound utterly distraught when you finish, “I’m scared.”

“Okay, Y/N I need you to you send me your location on your phone. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

You mumble out a “yes” and shortly after, Peter receives a link from your number. When he taps, a page with your location pops up on a map. A little red dot which must be you moves across a map slowly. Relief floods him upon the realisation that you’re not too far away at all.

“Got it,” he reassures you. “Honey, I want you to keep going straight okay, keep walking. I’m gonna come towards you, yeah? I'll be there in no time.”

“Yeah,” you whisper but Peter can tell that you’re not fully there.

Peter shoves his headphones into his ears and tugs his spider-man mask on, forgoing the suit entirely and swinging out of the window. When you go silent, Peter’s heart-rate spikes.

“You still doin’ okay, baby? Still with me?” 

You breathe heavily though the receiver. "Please- please don't hang up."

"Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

Peter stays on the phone the entire time he makes his way to your location, repeating quiet comforts to you, as he swings faster than he’s ever done in his life and scours the streets for your figure. When he gets closer, the boy lands in an alley, tugs the mask off quickly and stepping back out into the street, thankful that no one’s paying him much mind.

You spot each other at the same time and Peter breaks into a jog to reach you. 

“Hey,” he coos gently. “Hey, I’m here.”

Relief floods your tear-stricken gaze as the two of you collide and Peter brings a hand to cradle the back of your head. His eyes keep a vigilant watch over your head for whoever was following you, and sure enough a man who’d been walking a little further behind you narrows his eyes, turns around, and walks away.

You don’t even realise, head still buried into Peter’s chest. Whole body trembling against him.

“M’ sorry, Peter. I know you were studying … but I didn’t- I didn’t know what to else to do-”

The boy just pulls you in tighter, hoping that the compression will ground you. His hands run soothing patters over your arms, and he reassures you tenderly.

“You’re okay. It’s okay. You did so good by calling me.”

You pull away then, just enough to see him, eyes still slightly nervous. Peter pulls up the fallen strap of your sundress absentmindedly and brushes your hair out of your face. 

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Is he gone?”

“Yeah, he’s gone.” 

He can practically see the adrenaline seep out of you, replaced by exhaustion.

“Let’s go home, okay?” he strokes your hair, smoothing it down carefully as you nod your head.

“Thank you for coming for me, Peter. I know you were meant to be busy today.” You whisper featherlight, and it makes Peter very nearly want to cry because he would drop anything and everything to help you out. No questions asked. 

“Always,” he says instead. “I’ve got you, always.”

-

The trip back is near-silent. You; leaning your head on Peter’s shoulder, drained, as he swings from rooftop to rooftop. Peter; trying his hardest not to jostle you too much, looking down every so often to check that you’re still relatively okay.

When you arrive at the apartment, he sets you down easily .

“We’re here, baby.”

You nod, glassy eyes not quite meeting his. When Peter helps you sit on the couch, you curl up, teeth tugging at your bottom lip harshly.

“Sorry I’m such a mess.”

“Sweetheart,” Peter kneels down to take your heels off whilst he speaks. “Some creep tried to hit on you and follow you home. You’re allowed to be upset about it.”

You just shudder and watch him with watery eyes as he loosens the small buckles on your shoes. Peter presses a soft kiss to the place where they rubbed against your ankle as you ran to him, before looking back up at you and then at your trembling hands

“Can I help you with your dress?” he nods at the tremor hurtling through your fingers.

“Please.”

And so he helps you out of the sundress. Unzipping it at the back and helping you step out of it, your hands braced on his shoulders.

He hands you his comfiest t-shirt and sweatpants to wear and once you’re changed, Peter grabs some make up wipes from your bag and cleans your face for you.

On any other day, he thinks, you would push him away teasingly and tell him that you can do it yourself. 

But right now you’re exhausted and so you limit yourself to leaning into his touch and don’t say a word. Eyes shut as you take deep, steadying breaths. Pliant under his ministrations, trusting him completely.

Peter sits you down on the couch, guiding your head onto his lap and running his hands through your hair tenderly. 

You fall asleep pretty quickly and Peter, unwilling to move and risk waking you up, falls asleep there too.

[sophia-codes]

100 days of code - day 17

01.11.23

Objects

Today, I read an article about JS objects, that are associative arrays with key: value, like hash_maps. The key will be basically be treated as a string and the value can be of any type, including another object. They are declared inside { ... } like so:

The values can be accessed in two ways, dot notation and square bracket notation :

The first one is simple but, the second one is more versatile, and can accept variables as input, like so:

Arrays

Also, I studied some Array methods, they were, filter, map, sort, reduce;

All these methods use a feature that I kinda had fear, callback functions, that is passing functions as parameters ☠️. I have used something similar in C, and it looked like dark magic, but in JS it is as simple as passing a normal variable as parameter.

And the syntax with arrow functions can look a little messy in the beginning, but when you get used to it, it kinda looks pretty.

Well, these array methods that take callback functions will iterate through each array index and call the callback function with the value of this index.

I think that the .map method is the simplest to understand, it will call the function on each value as I said and return a new array with the return from all the callback function.

The map can also be called like this, with arrow function:

Output:

That's it 😵‍💫, today I wrote a lot 😅

Again, this was supposed to be posted yesterday, but I was sooo sleepy that I couldn't even think.

Also, I was thinking about trying to write these posts in the morning rather than at night, of course I'll write about what I did in the day before, but maybe I'll continue to use terms like "today I did" instead of "yesterday I did", because I think it fits better.

[luveline]

hi jade! i read you were a bit anxious, so i just wanted to say that we're all here for you and i hope you feel better soon <3

can request something for those little blurbs you're gonna write? if not, you can just ignore this!! but maybe something similar to what you wrote for remus a while ago about him seeing reader's sh scars for the first time, but for sirius? i feel really insecure about mine sometimes and some sirius being a really good and understanding bf would be lovely! <3

thank you and have a great day/night :)

Hi! Thank you, and thank you for your request! This is my favourite Sirius fic I've ever written, I hope you like it!! fem!reader, tw implied/mentioned self-harm

"That was a good time, huh?" you ask. 

Sirius smiles to himself in the mirror, pulling at the knot of his tie. "Anywhere is a good time with you, my love," he says, with an air of drama and yet entirely genuine. 

He peeks out into the adjoining bedroom and watches you cover a smile with the back of your hand, sitting at the end of the hotel bed. Your fingers curl into a fist. 

He really likes having this effect on somebody. To inspire not lust, but a flustered affection in you, is a sacred pleasure. You catch him watching you and your expression screws up. You flop down on your back. 

"Don't be embarrassed," he says lightly. 

You kick a half-hearted foot in his general direction. Which is another thing completely, your thighs all soft now you've sat down, looking really, really squishable. Why hasn't he noticed how lovely your thighs are before? 

Of course he has. But this is his first time seeing you in a dress.

"Have I mentioned how stunning you look today?" he asks, tie peeled from his neck, fingers working the two highest buttons of his shirt open. 

"Only all day." 

He hums and joins you in the bedroom, kneeling on one knee beside your plush thighs. The mattress dips with his weight, and his hands fall to your waist for balance. 

Your dress has risen all the way to the lace edge of your underwear, and usually that would command his attention, but he's stopped short by a surprising discrepancy. Uniform lines, bold and less so, climbing the top of your thigh. He assumes there are more to follow under the thin skirt of your dress. 

He reaches out without thinking, squeezes, and then pulls his hand back. "Sorry," he says, a murmur, unlike himself. He looks up and away from your thigh, meeting your startled gaze. "Sorry, doll, I should've asked." 

You take a second. You smile a small smile. "No, it's okay. I knew you'd see them eventually, and I… I didn't want to always have to be in the dark, with you." 

That's a dot connected. Siri, could we turn the lights off? 

"Do you still–" 

"No." You lift a hand and he lowers his face, your fingers cupping his high cheek. "It's okay. It's not a big deal." 

It feels like a big deal, but Sirius would never make this about him. He doesn't want to make it about your thighs, either, that risen hatching. He wants it to be about you — wants to make up for whatever it was that hurt that badly. 

You tense up momentarily as he settles on top of you, chest to chest, forearms bracketing your head, your lovely hair. He squints at you to try and lighten some of the unspoken tension. 

You turn limp under his weight. "Sorry, I should've told you before, but it's embarrassing." 

"Is it?" he asks, lips skipping over yours, he's that close. 

"I mean– Yeah." You sound like you have more to say, but he waits, and you don't say anything else. 

Your eyes close as he closes the last millimetre. He kisses you softly, then moves to your cheek and kisses there, too. 

"You have…" His nose strokes your skin as he raises his head, finding you wide-eyed and waiting. "Nothing to be embarrassed of." 

Your hands card through his hair. "You don't mind?" 

He shakes his head. Another time, soon, he'll tell you in detail how much it doesn't matter. How it would never change how he feels about you, or how perfect he thinks you are. You're not embarrassing, you're seraphim. You're beautiful. 

But tonight you're happy. The wedding had been perfect, slow dancing and cold drinks; you'd outshined the bride. You're eager to move away from the conversation altogether, and he's eager to help you into your pretty cotton pyjamas, eager to sequester you away from the world for as many hours as you'll let him.

He holds your gaze. "You swear–" 

"I swear to you," you say, "I'm just fine." 

"If you keep interrupting me, you won't be," he threatens. 

He watches your eyes snag on his loving grin. "Promise?"  

"Yes. Now, where's your suitcase, sweet girl? I'm desperate to get you out of that dress." 

[t-0ne25]

(7) the conservatory

-

-

-

You’re hitting two birds with one stone here. The conservatory isn’t only a good hideout in general – granting you lots of space behind the countless enormous plants. It’s also the one area of the cottage you haven’t been able to go to in all these years.

Seungmin is very serious when it’s about his plants. He treats them like his babies. No, correction. They are his babies. That’s why he doesn’t allow anyone to enter it on a normal occasion. But he said it’s fine for this game now, even though you know he would prefer it if no one chooses this as their hiding place.

Hopefully, this will mean no one will be with you and Minho won’t find you here.

Your expectations are falsified, however, when you find none other than the house owner himself hiding behind the same plant you had chosen for yourself.

“Ha! What happened to ‘don’t hide in the conservatory’, huh?”

Seungmin chuckles, feeling caught even though you’re not even the seeker in this game. “Maybe it was my plan so that no one chooses this spot except for me.”

“Well, I’m here now, too, I guess.”

“You can stay, Y/N. Don’t worry.”

You bow, pretending to thank him for his generosity.

“Thanks for not feeding me to the wolves aka Lee Minho.”

Seungmin plays along, placing his hand on his chest, a faux shocked expression on his face.

“I would never. You’re my best companion when it comes to teasing Chan. I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

He is correct with that. Seungmin has grown a habit of teasing the oldest and your neighbour is the secret favourite candidate when it comes to deciding who’s the best comedian of the group.

But he can be serious, too. Actually, he was the first one to know about the breakup with Hyunjin and helped you a lot, especially the first evening after it happened. Seungmin has always made sure to make you feel comfortable and safe at any time given.

You catch yourself ogling him for a second too long and when he notices too, you switch your gaze towards the huge window, finding the sky filled with stars.

“That’s so pretty.”

“Hm, that’s why it’s my favourite part of the house,” Seungmin confesses, scooting a bit closer to you. He can feel his heartbeat increasing, now realising how near he is to you, hiding in a room with only you.

“I could watch the stars for hours.”

Seungmin smiles at you but you’re unable to see it, your eyes glued to the sparkling dots far away from you.

“We can watch them for longer. Later. If you want to.” His sentence leaves his lips in brackets.

“Sure.”

Minho finds you a minute later anyway and after everyone went to their rooms, already fully asleep, Seungmin and you meet up inside the conservatory again.

“You know,” you start once you flaunt into the room, “I feel quite honoured to be allowed in here.”

Seungmin chuckles and offers you some mulled wine he has prepared for the both of you, waiting on a sprawled out blanket on the floor. It looks like a little picnic, especially with the snacks he’s brought with him.

“Of course, Y/N. You’re the only one except for me who’s allowed in here.”

You take a seat right next to him, making yourself comfortable, and start looking at all the stars up high in the sky, their numbers by now increased.

“Thank you, Minnie,” you reply, taking a sip from the hot wine.

That nickname. Seungmin always feels his knees go weak at that fucking nickname.

Your friend answers all your questions regarding the night sky, impressing you with all his knowledge. You’re diving into the depths of astrophysics by now and you soon realise Seungmin is a total nerd about anything space related.

It’s adorable. Well, he already is totally adorable but you can feel your heart melt during this whole scene. The fact he’s prepared all of this as well, staying up late just so he can show you the beauty of the sky it’s as if–

As if he might like you?

No. It can’t be. It’s probably something he’d do with any of his friends. Although friends don’t look at each other like this. But Seungmin does. He’s staring at you as if he’s trying to find stars in your eyes instead of the sky above him.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

“Is that the reason you brought me here, Minnie?” You flirt back.

“No. I wanted to be here with you. But that’s not some strategy I used, please don’t think of me that way.”

You shake your head no, “I don’t. Don’t worry. I feel comfortable in your company.”

Some time filled with silence passes, but on autopilot you both scoot a bit closer to each other, still completely mesmerised by the universe’s artwork above you.

“I’m glad you’re here with me, too,” Seungmin says after what felt like eternity. “I just wasn’t sure– you know, because of him. If it’s too soon or anything.”

Right. Your ex boyfriend. It’s as if you’ve almost forgotten he’s attending the trip as well. Seungmin really seems to be able to let you focus on something else.

“Don’t worry about him, Minnie. Don’t even mention him, yeah?”

He slightly nods, trusting your words. It’s not easy for him – trying to concentrate on the stars in the sky when you’re looking so ethereal next to him. Seungmin could faint at the sight. And he’s still so unsure if he should dare do another step.

He can feel his heartbeat giving up, especially, when you tilt your head towards him, staring right back into his eyes now. You don’t know if a second passes, a minute or an hour but you find yourself even closer to him, letting the distance disappear between the both of you, when you place your lips on his.

You’ve completely lost track of time, once Seungmin has you lying underneath him on the soft blanket, as he’s towering over you. He’s already grinding his hips into your own by now, attempting to deal with the tightening feeling in his pants with the help of some friction.

You let out a small moan, vibrations being sent into his mouth, as you part your legs a little further for him, groping his hardened length through the fabric of his clothing.

“Off with these, Minnie,” you beg and he immediately follows your orders, helping you out of your jeans after.

It’s a bit rushed, maybe, but neither of you are able to wait even a second longer. Seungmin caresses your wet folds with his fingers, coating your little sensitive nub in your own slickness. It feels like heaven, as if you’re close to the stars right above your head.

“Minnie– I can’t wait– need you inside of me.”

Your friend hastily nods, pulling his own remaining clothings down, too. He aligns his length with your heat, stabilising himself on his elbow and forearm. When he finally pushes inside, his whole length filling you up to the brim, you feel close to heaven.

“You feel so good, Y/N. So tight and wet for me, baby.”

His thrusting motions make you lose your mind, clearly. The pretty view on the other side of the window makes the scene even more magical than it already is. It’s as if you’re floating on the clouds, trying to reach those stars.

And you’re sure those stars in the sky will connect with the ones that are threatening to blind your vision, especially when Seungmin sneaks two fingers between your legs, continuing to play with your clit.

A minute later, you come undone underneath him, triggering his own orgasm in the process. Seungmin paints your lower stomach white with his juices, admiring the pretty sight – even prettier than the night sky.

“Thank you for this evening, Minnie.” He places a soft kiss on your lips.

“Everything for you, Y/N.”

-

© j-0ne25 2022 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

[autisticgirliesbracket]

Autistic Girlies Bracket: Preliminaries

My Little Pony

Only your vote can determine which of these autistic girlies will represent My Little Pony in the main bracket.

[Image ID: Image with a purple to pink gradient background with white text in the centre that reads 'THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE'. The text is surrounded by four white boxes that each display official artwork of a My Little Pony character. In the first box is Princess Luna, a navy blue alicorn with a semi-transparent flowing blue mane that is dotted with stars. In the second box is Twilight Sparkle, a lavender alicorn with a dark purple mane that has purple and pink striped highlights. In the third box is Maud Pie, a grey earth pony in a blue dress with a straight purple mane. In the fourth box is Pinkie Pie, a pale pink earth pony with a curly pink mane. End ID.]

[beewithknee]

of death and pain

redactober day 10 !

asher/babe angst

“SAM FUCKING DO SOMETHING!” The Beta screamed, tears streaking down his face.

Sam sighed a truly awful sound, “I’m sorry Asher. There’s nothing I can do. It’s too late.” He sounded dead, eyes wide and unseeing as he surveyed the surroundings.

“No, please. I just need- I need one more minute. Please.” Asher begged, crumpling to the ground. Hysterical sobs were ripped from his chest as he took in the sight of his lover.

White sleeves stained red as he reached forward to pull their body to his.

They were so limp, so cold, so lifeless.

Tears filled Sam’s eyes as he watched the heartbreaking display. Love was something that transcended time and space. It was infinite. It was precious. It was forever.

Some things just weren’t meant for eternity, he supposed.

“Sam…” It was a plea. It fell from his lips without second thought. Asher needed them back. He was fully aware that he wouldn’t cope with this loss; it would be the death of him.

“I’m so sorry.” Sam was restrained, though his voice still cracked. He was the pillar of strength. He never cracked. But there, where he’d so blatantly failed, Sam shattered in every way a person like him was capable.

The thick coppery scent had the vampire almost scrambling to cover his nose. It had leeched into the ground, marking the earth with the evidence of what had transpired.

“Baby please. Don’t do this.” Asher whispered, pressing his forehead to theirs. They were so cold. He shivered, body unable to process what it was seeing. “We’ve gotta go get married, c’mon.”

The gaping wounds in their neck and chest had mutilated their perfect body. His loathed that the last memory he’d ever have of his mate would be their mangled body.

They were so beautiful.

The ring on their left hand was blood-stained. It sent a harsher sob through his body.

“Babe…” He croaked, voice wrecked from a bleeding throat.

Sam stood and moved away. He needed to give the grieving lover some room. He needed to call David. He needed to call Darlin’.

Asher didn’t process anything, not even when Sam’s gravelly voice registered in his ears did he lift his eyes from his mate. His forever. They were gone. He felt untethered from reality; unable to ground himself, unable to look away from the sight he knew would haunt his dreams, unable to wake up from his nightmarish reality.

“Come back.” It was angry. A growl seeping out from between clenched teeth. Asher vaguely recognised that his mouth was salty, whether it was tears or blood though he was unsure. He shook the soft shoulders under his grip, “Babe. Wake up now. This isn’t funny. I’m-“ He cut off, anger sweeping out of his body in foul swoop.

His shoulders shook and chest heaved as he spluttered. Rough palms dug into his eyes, physically trying to carve the horrific view out from behind them.

No words left his lips, too caught between despair and panic to formulate. Asher was drowning and he didn’t know how to save himself.

Warm hands pulled at his wrists. A sturdy chest slid along his back, thighs bracketing either side of him. Asher fell back into the embrace, unable to remain kneeling as he was.

Everything flooded out of him.

The wolf hadn’t registered that it was Sam holding him. Hadn’t connected those dots. It didn’t really matter, Sam supposed. Asher was a tactile creature and any contact would likely aid him at least a small amount.

“Breathe, Asher. David’s on his way. I’ve got you.” Sam soothed, wrapping his arms tightly around his weeping friend. He longed to take the pain away. Longed to draw it out like he did his Darlin’ wounds. Fix the internal injuries.

He couldn’t though. This would likely never heal, not fully.

Months later, Asher would recognise that he was grateful to have had Sam that day. He’d be thankful the vampire hadn’t offered any fake platitudes about everything being okay or how he’d learn to live.

Because in that field, with the smell of his Mate’s blood ingrained in his nose, Asher felt like he was dying all over again

[janiceisbored-blog]

Enchanted

I can't sleep. I had to write this down with Mark Lee in my mind. Kinda inspired by Taylor Swift's Enchanted. I didn't bother on editing anything or checking the grammar. I just wanted to dump it here.

Mark Lee / OC (y/n)

All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you

“Earth to ___!” Mark snapped his finger in front of your face. You were daydreaming again with your headphones on, staring in the distance as you try to hold your pen up, your notebook obviously littered with scribbles and dots. The last thing you want your best friend, Mark Lee, to know is you were zoning out again writing mindless scenarios in your head while listening to sappy love songs.

“AS I WAS SAYING BEFORE, I would like to know what you think about this? I’m not 100% sure about the code, but I did not get the same output. I think I’m using the code wrong.” Mark was tapping his pencil against his laptop, his frustration visible just by the look of his face. You leaned in closer to him, trying to get a better view of his laptop screen, shoulders touching, Mark snaked his arm behind your chair so you could lean in closer. It took almost all your will power to focus on the blob of code in front of you, you don’t want to do anything weird to make it seem awkward.

“You missed a closing bracket right here.” You pointed at the laptop screen and rushed back to your normal seating position and crossed your arms, “Aaand a semicolon here, dumbass.” You pointed once more in the screen as you chuckle at the sight of his frustration. He stared at his laptop for a few seconds before typing the adjustments, a small smile forming in his lips.

“Yo!HowthefuckdidInotseethat?” He was now giggling in his seat, shaking your arms as he victoriously showed his laptop screen to you. “I totally had that one earlier. We can now submit this, I’m so totally done with this subject. Thanks, ___.” He continued to fixate his attention to his laptop, typing feverishly as to not miss the deadline for this assignment. “Good thing I did mine last night and I did not spend the whole night doing god knows what, Mark.” You rolled your eyes at him as you put your things back in your bag, occasionally checking him under your glasses. “Don’t forget to attach it in the email.” You playfully warned him as he scrolls his laptop. He was still smiling from ear to ear, delighted that this requirement is now finished, no more major subject requirements for the both of you for the rest of the week. “Fucking finally.” He folded his laptop and chucked it in his backpack. Both of you left the study hall to walk around the campus and to get something to eat. The weather couldn’t be more perfect, the sun was shining, college students strolling around as if a huge burden has been lifted after the grueling hell weeks of exams, requirements, and reporting. The academic year is finally ending in a few days. But to you, it was bittersweet, it would mean that you would be seeing Mark less and less through the summer, he has been your constant person ever since the 1st year of university and you can still vividly remember the first time you met. You used to be a stuttering mess back then, asking him if the desk next to him during your first class together. Right now, it seems that you two are inseparable. You shared the same circle of friends, same corny taste in humor, bickers like an old couple (according to his other best friend, Haechan) and almost shared the same interests; each conversation between the two of you are just endless. One time at a beach party hosted by one of your friends, he found out that you were drinking alone by the shore and he accompanied you until sunrise, talking about anything and everything. Both of your friends are still scratching their heads on how both of you are still not together. But you have an answer for that, like how you have an answer for almost anything, “We don’t see each other that way!” It’s almost like a default response. You know his type, well, to accurately put it, he told you his type. “Long hair, soft girl, has a cute voice, and a nice smile.” And he did have a couple of “long haired-soft girl” girl friends in the past few years. How could he not? He is a head turner, he’s talented, he’s charming, he’s a gentleman, He IS Mark Lee. He’s had a couple of confessions from a handful of girls in the campus in which he politely rejects. It’s safe to say that everyone is whipped for Mark Lee – and with you being an arms distance from him, is not even exempted. As for you, you had your few fling experiences but nothing seems to stick. A couple of happy crushes here and there, but none of them are long term and you know the reason why, you’re just too scared to accept what it is.

It seems that the walk to the coffee shop was long, but you never complained. Mark was there, you were there. Conversations between the two of you were chaotic, having multiple topics at once but you don’t mind. He opened the door for you being the gentleman that he was and you just snickered at his face, masking the butterflies that you just experienced in your stomach. The coffee shop was a little busy and with students trying to meet deadlines, most of the tables were occupied.

“I’ll go get us food and drinks. What do you want?” He pointed at the menu chalkboard in front. “Oatmilk latte?” and his head tilted sideways.

“You.” As if you could say that in front of him. Your intrusive thoughts are much louder than before. “I-uh uhmmm, can you get me a large one with 2 extra shots of espresso I need to get buzzed and a ham & cheese croissant.” Why on earth were you a stuttering mess?

“I-uhmm.” He made face while he playfully mimics your stutter, you can’t help but playfully slap his arms in his childishness. “2 shots? No you can’t have that, why do you need to get buzzed for? We’re finished in most of our deadlines! You’re going to get palpitations. You’re getting a regular oatmilk latte with the appropriate amount of espresso shots.” He didn��t even blink while lecturing you about excessive amounts of caffeine intake and it was completely obvious that he was concerned.

“All this concern and for what?” Only if he could read your thoughts. “Fine. But you’re paying! I saved your ass during that assignment.” You avoided his gaze and made looking for a table as an excuse. “Here!” you called his attention as you sat in the booth near the window. You popped your earphones on while trying to catch a quick glimpse of Mark as he queues to the barista counter.

Across the room, your silhouette

Starts to make its way to me

The playful conversation starts

Counter all your quick remarks

Like passing notes in secrecy

And it was enchanting to mee you

All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you

As if fate was holding your playlist, of all songs it had to be this. You just slumped your head down to the table. “Not a good time, Taylor.” You mumbled to yourself and continued to scan your playlist for another song as you wait for Mark to return.

“You’re listening to her, again.” Mark settled the tray of food down your table. “Also, that’s disgusting. Don’t sleep on their table you don’t even know if this table is 100% clean.” He was always this playful with you, teasing and bickering all through out the day. He told you about his vacation plans to go to Canada with his parents for a quick vacation to visit some family. You were planning to look up some internships or part time work to earn some money for yourself.

“Ah, such a hard worker! That’s what I like about you. but don’t forget to take some vacation days, dimwit. They’re not going to give you a trophy for over exhausting yourself.” Mark always had a way with compliments, he was so good at it, and you almost caught yourself blushing.

DING!

You guys coming tomorrow? Friday night – 7pm at Chenle’s. Year end party. BRING A DATE!! – Haechan.

You showed him your phone with Haechan’s text message to your circle of friend’s group chat.

“He says bring a date. His ass is not bringing a date.” You took your phone back and started typing frantically as you settled your sandwich down. “You plan to come tomorrow?” You looked over Mark who’s obviously staring at his phone as well, as if waiting for another notification to pop up.

“Uh yeah, you?” He looked up to you and flashed a smile.

Please don’t smile like that at me. You mumbled to yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll go. I miss seeing everyone after hell week and I need a drink.” You can’t deny that the exhaustion from the last few weeks of university has caught up to you. When was the last time you tried to put some effort on how you looked? You almost forgot when the last time was you had a drink.

“I’ll come pick you up at 6:30 PM tomorrow.” It was always you and Mark coming in together in a party. Your friend’s theories about the two of you are almost becoming normal every time you hear about it. You wanted to say that it didn’t bother you, but it did. Because all this time that you and Mark were hearing about their speculations about the two of you, you wished, even prayed, that one of them could be a part of your reality. But you were firm to believe in your mantra, “Mark doesn’t see you that way.”

The lingering question kept me up

2am who do you love?

I wonder ‘til I’m wide awake

What you and Mark had was special, well maybe just for you, and you didn’t want your stupid feelings getting in the way of your friendship. You were content on cheering for him in the sidelines, you were content on driving him back home when he’s hammered at 4am after a night of drinking with friends, you were content on answering his late night text and calls when he couldn’t sleep, you were content on watching each other on video calls to have impromptu study sessions, you were content on doing silly little tasks with him like going to the grocery to stock up on supplies, you were content with having long talks over drinks with him on spontaneous occasions. And it’s not like he’s making you a pushover, he was also the same with you. When you were crying your eyes out on your first serious relationship breakup, your roommate called him to comfort you, when he had to drive the speed limit just so you can go home to your parents during a family emergency, or when the two of you took care of a little cat you found walking around the campus, taking turns on hiding the cat in each other’s dorm room until he got adopted, and when you cried, again, when parting ways with the adopted cat. He has been there, through your highs and lows, through his ups and downs. It seems cheesy, but if you believed in having soulmates, then maybe he is the one for you. But Mark, as honest as he may seem, is still hard to read. He was playful, he jumps from one girl from another. As soon as she no longer sparks joy in his eyes, he would break up with her or find some excuse to let her know that he’s no longer interested. You don’t want to risk it. You don’t want to be dropped and be replaced by the next girl, that’s why you’re settling for comfort. And right now, this setup, is comfort for you.

DING!

It was his phone, a notification pops up but you can’t even read it through your glasses, but he was eager to reply. Probably Jeno and Chenle asking him to join them for a quick basketball game. You don’t even bother on asking anymore. You just refuse to count the days left with him. Today was… comfortable.

You were waiting for Mark to pick you up to go to Chenle’s. What’s taking him so long? You looked at your clock, it was 6:38 PM. You left another text message to his number, all still unread.

Where are you? Drive safe. I’m at home. I’ll wait for you here.

6:45 PM. Still no replies from Mark. Your group chat is now looking for the two of you. It was unusual for him to be this late. He usually texts you if he’s going to be late. Why wasn’t he responding? You started messaging everyone outside the group chat if they know where Mark is, but no one even knows where he is. You were now starting to get worried. He always reminds you how much of an overthinker you are, you could hear him reason something logical on why he was still not picking you up, but you feel like you had all the reasons to get worried.  You were typing even faster on your phone, you even left some missed calls and voice messages to his number. “Call me on the next red light. Be safe.” You were a pacing mess and now starting to tap your nails on the table.

6:58 PM. You heard a car pull up and you immediately say, “MARK!”. But when you opened your door, you were greeted by another face.

“____! Haechan asked me to pick you up. I’m also on my way to the party. Sorry for not letting you know in the chats, I was driving.” It was Jaemin. He was also part of your circle. A quiet boy who usually keeps to himself, but not socially awkward. You had a couple of stories to share with each other before. He’s taking up Medicine and planning to be a doctor after his Pre-Med courses. “Thanks, Jaemin. Do you know why Mark is not picking up his messages? I’m starting to get worried.” You asked him, hoping he knows about Mark’s whereabouts. He’s just confused as you are, he knows Mark wouldn’t ditch her without any good reason. “Maybe he’s just driving. I’m sure we’ll meet him at the party.” Jaemin was just trying to reassure her, he didn’t even initiated any kind of small talk with her since she’s obviously worried.

“___, I can drive you back home if you don’t feel like going.” Jaemin said firmly, his gaze not leaving the road.

I’m on my way to the party. Jaemin picked me up along the way.

Drive safe, Mark.

“No, I-I want to see everyone.” You sank deeper to the passenger’s seat and looked at your phone. Still “0 Notifications”. You can hear Mark’s voice in your head saying that he’s fine and there’s no illogical reason why he’s not replying. You looked  at your watch, it’s now 7:20 PM and you’re almost near Chenle’s house. You were almost close to shedding a tear.

DING!

Mark’s here. His phone battery died. – Haechan

You let out a big sigh of relief, you told Jaemin that Mark is now at the party. You composed yourself as Jaemin parks his car near the curb of Chenle’s house. You looked at yourself at the dashboard mirror and flashed a big smile as if you weren’t anxious just 10 minutes ago.

“Let’s go?” Jaemin opened your door and both of you walked to the front door greeting everyone in sight. You were hugging and smiling at everyone. You missed your circle and right now all you want to do is drink your poor little heart out.

“Can I also get a hug?” You turned around and you saw him. He was grinning sheepishly as if the next thing he’s going to do is apologize. “You didn’t overthink, did you?”

You wanted to get mad. But not here, not around your friends, not right now. You’re not going to nag him about how he should charge his phone before leaving or at least bring a charging cord with him in his car. “You’ll hear from me later.” You smiled at him sarcastically as you pull away from his hug. You know you can’t stay mad at him. His battery died, it’s not entirely his fault, right?

“Hey I tried to text you, you know? See? I’ll be there soon.” He pointed at your phone messages. “At 4:39 PM you dumbass! I was just coming in the shower!” You didn’t want to nag, you didn’t come to this party to nag. You’re obviously in no mood to lecture him about charging cables. Whatever worry you had before is now changing after chugging shots.

“Just… don’t do that again, Mark. I was worried.” You said to him while sipping your drink. You feel like you can’t stay mad at him. You were ready to accept whatever apology he was ready to spew out that night.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I take accountability.” He said as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You looked up to him, his eyes were sparkling than the usual. He met your gaze with a smile and you just chuckled and handed him a drink.

“Why were you out so early? We talked about meeting up at 6:30.” You can’t help but wonder, maybe he had some last minute errands to run?

“I can’t wait to tell you.” He unwrapped his arm around you, his smile still visible, but you can feel your heart racing at a faster pace. You were nervous, multiple scenarios are popping up in your head and you can’t even keep up which ones to entertain. You fixed yourself another drink, maybe this will calm down the nerves. What was Mark talking about? You sat down the sofa next to Haechan and feel immediately at ease when he tries to tell everyone a story about his bald professor. You were now laughing with everyone. Watching them bicker over a story they just heard and you were joining the banter as well. Everyone stopped when Mark walked into the living room, obviously giddy over the announcement he is about to make. Your eyes were fixated to him and you gave him a big smile as you too were looking forward to what he was about to say.

Please don’t be in love with someone else

Please don’t have someone waiting on you

“This is Grace, my girlfriend.” He said as he held the girl’s hand, with his eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room.

[greenhikingboots]

Dance With Me, Jon Snow

Hey there. So I’ve been sweetly tortured by a headcanon ever since I read @cappymightwrite anon meta, and now it’s time for you to be sweetly tortured by it too.

Wait! Last minute addition inserted right here! I’ve just realized I never actually finished Cappy’s meta. Sorry! The thing is, it’s super long and every time I’ve tried to finish it, I’ve gotten way too excited. Seriously. Such jittery energy. And then I have to scurry off to channel that energy into something like writing snippets of one-shots I’ve never posted. But basically, I think Cappy says way more brilliant stuff than I’m about to but doesn’t directly say my headcanon despite coming very, very close at some points.. So, yeah, I just wanted to clarify that distinction before moving ahead. ❤ Okay, let’s review! As Cappy’s meta taught us, “anon” means soon or shortly. That means when Alys uses the word in the passage below, she uses it incorrectly.

When Owen the Oaf began to dance with Patchface the fool, laughter echoed off the vaulted ceiling. The sight made Lady Alys smile. “Do you dance often, here at Castle Black?” “Every time we have a wedding, my lady.” “You could dance with me, you know. It would be only courteous. You danced with me anon.” “Anon?” teased Jon. “When we were children.” She tore off a bit of bread and threw it at him. “As you know well.” “My lady should dance with her husband.” — ADWD, Jon X

Cappy has some great stuff to say about this, though the strikethroughs and bracketed additions are mine. 😜

Jon immediately picks up on this fumble [and thinks of Sansa, as my headcanon will imply], though tellingly perhaps, he does not clarify this mix up to the reader, he simply repeats it quizzically and teasingly back to her. I’d wager that was very intentional on GRRM’s part — an instance where he is encouraging his reader to do a bit of investigative work, instead of offering up a clear explanation right there on the page. [once again hiding Jon’s direct thoughts of Sansa. That’s the headcanon, anyway. Give me a minute to explain it better.] 

So Alys uses “anon” incorrectly, but two Jon POV chapters later, he uses it correctly when thinking to himself. He’s watching the wildlings pass through the Wall. It’s taking all day. When they start to jostle each other, Jon realizes it’s more than impatience. It’s fear. And then there’s a new paragraph with the new anon line. 🆕

A snowflake danced upon the air. Then another. Dance with me, Jon Snow, he thought. You’ll dance with me anon. — ADWD, Jon XII

The line feels out of the blue to me, which got me thinking about another headcanon I’ve shared — the one I already linked in my bracketed additions above. Maybe you’ve read it before? It’s about the scene where Jon sees Val with Ghost, her physical description changes to be more like Sansa’s, and he thinks that it’s been a long time since he’s seen such a lovely sight. Then, two pages later, there’s the willowy creature line.

Val looked the part [of a princess] and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her. — ADWD, Jon XII

Basically, I made the argument that even though it isn’t acknowledged on the page, Jon knew he’d briefly, unwillingly thought of Sansa. I wrote, “Go read it again, and I think you’ll see that when the willowy creature line happens, it actually feels like a weird logic leap. The dots aren’t connecting because one dot is missing!!!!” 🔍 To me, it seems like this second “anon” line is similar (but without Jon’s defensiveness which leads to a judgemental thought). In short, both are seemingly out of the blue because GRRM is hiding something from us. My evidence to support this is limited, but I do have some. As Cappy pointed out, Jon and Sansa both have memories of snowflakes falling on Robb’s hair the day they left Winterfell. Jon thinks about it a few more times than Sansa does, but here are some  examples from both of them, as a reminder. ❄

He remembered the day he had left Winterfell, all the bittersweet farewells; Bran lying broken, Robb with snow in his hair, Arya raining kisses on him after he'd given her Needle. — AGOT, Jon V He remembered Robb as he had last seen him, standing in the yard with snow melting in his auburn hair. — AGOT, Jon IX She had last seen snow the day she'd left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me… — ASOS, Sansa VII

Let me come back to this in a second. I now want to make sure it’s very clear that Jon’s thoughts while the wildlings pass through the Wall — the second “anon” line in the book — are a callback to Alys, sure, but he isn’t quoting her, right? As previously established, she uses anon incorrectly whereas he uses it correctly. Plus she never says, “Dance with me, Jon Snow.” Those are not her words. 🚫 So what is Jon recalling in that moment, if not Aly’s wedding day? Well, I guess it could be argued that he isn’t recalling anything in paticular. It could be a pure daydream, a piece of foreshadowing and nothing else. But that doesn’t sit right with me. I think this line is a direct hint at moments from Jon and Sansa’s shared past. Because, correct me if I’m wrong, but the books have plenty of instances of characters repeating past conversations and quotes to themselves (“You know nothing, Jon Snow,” is one that leaps out at me, of course), but not instances of characters making up fake conversations that could happen in the future. So here’s my headcanon. “Dance with me, Jon Snow.” ← A younger, courteous Sansa who loves to dance tried to help Jon feel involved during some fancy feast where he’s mopping in the corner (to quote the show). Given the next line, he must have obliged. 🆗 “You’ll dance with me anon.” ← What Sansa said to Jon the day she left for King’s Landing and he left for the Wall. It was her way of saying, “This isn’t goodbye forever.” 💃 It’s the way they both think of Robb with snow melting in his hair that really does it for me. It’s so close to a shared memory, almost like they were in the courtyard at the same time. And yet GRRM doesn’t tell us about their final goodbyes to each other!? Yep, put another tally in the column labeled Jon Was Directly Thinking of Sansa In That Moment But We’re Not Supposed to Know That Yet. That’s my headcanon and I’m sticking to it. I’m never going to get around to putting into in a fic, so here’s a Tumblr post instead. 🎉

[yugioh-rare-pair-poll]

Second-Chance Bracket: Poll 8

Which rare pairing is more underrated?

Propaganda under the cut

Pairing 1: Euroshipping(Ryou Bakura/Seto Kaiba)

Propaganda: My FAVE!! Ok so Ryou masks his trauma and pain behind smiles and Seto masks his trauma and pain behind frowns…Seto opening up slowly to Ryou so they can heal together is the most beautiful thing 😭 They’re just lonely, sad boys that think nobody can understand them. Plus they both have obsessive gamer personality, are super smart, and very competitive in their respective games. I love them so much | The fact that Kaiba's type is literally blue eyes / white hair (Kisara + BEWD) and Ryou fits that is so underrated. Also they could be weirdos together. | Wouldn't it be funny if Kaiba fell in love Ryou of all people

Pairing 2: Fillershipping (Rebecca Hawkins/Noah Kaiba)

Propaganda: I fell in love with this ship after reading a fic back on Fanfiction dot net named Lily by Hikari Daeron (link for the curious: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/4100197/1/Lily). That fic has haunted me for years; I absolutely love and adore the idea of Rebecca somehow finding and meeting Noah and the two of them striking up a friendship based on the people they both know, a friendship that could evolve into something more. Also the idea of Noah basically being like Rebecca's Vocaloid type friend is incredibly amusing and charming.

Now, let’s keep things civil. This is a silly poll where we can share why we love our overlooked ships. There’s no need to be nasty to prove your point. Bashers will be banished to the Shadow Realm.

[2manyfandoms2count]

The Spirit of Competition

Me? Back for a second chapter almost a year later? Looks like it! Sorry for the wait, this year has been kicking my ass on a certain number of levels, but I'm finally getting into a decent rythm that fits a bit of writing here and there - hopefully this story will get its end before the end of the month!

Hope you like the new chapter <3

Previous | AO3

---

Chapter 2

“Maman, I’ve got it!” Marinette jumped up and down excitedly with her notebook in her hands, sending a couple of loose pages flying in the process.

Sabine smiled at her daughter’s enthusiasm; she’d spent months brainstorming ideas for this year’s Halloween contest. Her daughter was nothing if not dedicated. 

“I can do this,” Marinette said quietly, as if to convince herself, frowning as she revealed her sketch. 

“I know you can,” Sabine replied, pressing a kiss to Marinette’s forehead. “Did you make a list of what you need to make it?” 

Marinette ripped out a page of her notebook and handed it to her, as if it would answer her question — and it did.

Polka-dotted fabric. Lots and lots of polka-dotted fabric.

—

Marinette strode through the Exposition hall with a proud smile, a few gasps sounding in her wake. Her polka-dotted Victorian dress was definitely a success with the audience; her tachycardic heart hoped it would be with the jury, too. 

She slowed down when she reached the competition stages. She kept an eye out for the 8-12 year old age bracket line, which was far shorter than that for the younger demographic, and suddenly regretted leaving Sabine behind at the welcome desk to deal with signing up. 

She sighed in relief when she finally caught sight of the sign, picking up her pace in its direction… and skidding to a halt when she saw the last person standing in line.

To someone looking quickly, the blond boy’s outfit was a classic Victorian suit, the black jacket cut in a thick, velvet-y fabric, which contrasted nicely with his silk almond-green waistcoat. 

Marinette’s trained eye picked up on the jacket’s silky background below the discrete burnout cat-paw print of the coat, matching the waistcoat’s pattern.

Could it be?...

A disbelieving chuckle escaped her lips as she approached, making the boy turn around, and she got her answer. Him .

She hadn't seen him since her first costume contest, despite her yearly participation in the previous six years' editions of the contest; his face and name had already faded by the following year, although she'd held onto the idea that she had a friend potentially waiting for her at the Halloween exhibition for a couple of years. The boy had soon become a distant memory, and yet she continued to make ladybug-themed costumes so he’d recognise her, in case he'd show up again, hopefully in a cat-themed costume.

And he had. 

His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he scanned her, his features finally brightening when his eyes reached her face.

"You!" He beamed. 

His face had obviously changed with time, but the boy’s kind, green eyes definitely rang a bell. As did the literal bell he wore in lieu of a tie. 

"You're back!" She grinned excitedly.

“Yes, finally!” He mirrored her. “My parents kept planning trips for the Toussaint holidays, but this year I convinced them to stay. I’m so glad you’re here too!”

“I’ve come here every year since the last time, and I’ve won every time,” Marinette announced proudly.

“I’m sure you’ll win again this year, your costume is beautiful.”

The boy solemnly inspected Marinette’s dress, walking around her to look at it from all angles. 

“Thanks, I made it myself,” she replied, bashfully playing with the fabric of her skirt. 

“Seriously?” His eyes met hers, full of wonder. “That’s so cool! You should definitely mention it to the jury!”

“You think?” 

“Yeah! It’s a lot more impressive than having someone else make it for you.” He tugged on his bell. “Even though my dad did work hard on this costume.”

“It shows! Did you work with him?” Marinette asked curiously.

“My mum and I went to pick up the fabric, he worked from that and the theme.”

“I had to look up Victorian in the dictionary,” Marinette admitted conspiratorially. “And then I spent some time at the library to find inspiration.”

“My dad made me study everything related to that era when he received the theme.” He rolled his eyes. “Some of it was cool, but I wish we’d at least done a Victorian seaside retreat to be thematic, it would’ve been more fun than sitting in a dark room to watch slides all summer.”

“That sounds intense.” Marinette grimaced. 

The boy was about to answer when Sabine came to join them in the queue.

“You’re all set, my love,” she said as she pinned her daughter’s number sign  on her. 

“Thanks, Maman!” Marinette stood on her tiptoes to kiss her cheek. “Look who’s here!” 

“Hi, Ma’am.” Adrien shuffled shyly as Sabine turned towards him. “I don’t know if you remember me…”

“Adrien, right?” Sabine smiled warmly. Adrien nodded excitedly, and Marinette silently thanked her mother’s great memory with names. “Look at you, you’ve grown up so much! And that costume looks great, I think you two will be each other’s main competition this year once again.”

“Oh, I don’t know, a contestant-made costume is a lot more impressive.” He blushed.

“It’s true that my Marinette worked very hard on her costume.” Sabine stroked her daughter’s hair affectionately. “Is your mother here this year as well?”

“Yes, she went to sit down already, she was feeling a little tired.” Adrien smiled.

“Well then, I’ll see if I can find her. See you two later! Try and stick together if you can.”

“As if I’d stray away from my only friend here,” Adrien whispered as they watched Sabine walk away.

“No way I’m letting you go, I can’t remember much from last time, but I know it was a lot more fun than the other years!” Marinette laughed.

“Really?” Adrien looked at her with eyes that reminded her of a kitten. 

She nodded, about to expand on the thought, when one of the organisers started calling the contestants to the stage.

“May the best of us win!” they both said at the same time.

—

“In second place, please welcome Adrien Agreste!” the jury’s president called out. 

Marinette turned towards her friend, clapping excitedly. He smiled at her as he got up, and winked, but she didn't notice, too focused on the roaring of her pulse.

Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. If Adrien's costume had only gotten second place, then maybe…

"And the first place goes to… Marinette Dupain-Cheng!" 

The laureate squealed and squeezed Sabine's hand, making her mother wince through her congratulations. 

On stage, Adrien hooted. 

Marinette sprung out of her seat and all but skipped towards the stage.

“I told you you’d win!” Adrien beamed at her from the second step of the podium.

“Thanks for giving me the tip,” Marinette answered. “About telling them I’d made my costume,” she clarified for his confused frown.

“I’m sure you would’ve been fine without it.” He waved her thanks away, before posing for the customary podium picture. 

They didn’t get a chance to talk about it again, as Sabine and Emilie swooped in after they were done receiving their prizes, and they visited the other stalls, like they had six years prior.

“So…” Marinette looked shyly at her feet later, as the four of them stood in front of the exhibition hall, the Agrestes waiting for their car. “That’s one victory for you, and one for me.”

“You said you’d won all those other times, though?” Adrien interrupted her.

“It didn’t really count. You weren’t there.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, we’re tied now, so you better show up again so get a clear winner!” She looked at him with a slight frown. 

“Okay, I promise we’ll meet again.” He held out his little finger, and she held it wit hers.

“I’ll hold you to it!”

[juliette-tango]

How to Make your own 'Neil Banging Out The Tunes' , in Lego

I made this yesterday and posted in the reblogs but it got hard to find so I thought I would put it here as well. I know it's a simple build but I thought someone might like a step by step.

In the first photo are all of the components I used in my build.

It would work with other bricks that add up to the same dimensions. I used what I had because I don't have much purple.

Step One.

Use the quarter circles and the 3x2 and the 3x1 plate to make the base.

Step Two.

Add the first white layer.

I used two 3x3 s and one 1x3 but any combination of plate is fine as long as it doesn't fall apart.

Step Three.

Add the first layer of rainbow tiles. I wanted 8 colours but I couldn't make a good rainbow with 8. I need more dots.

Step Four .

Add the second layer of white plate and the second layer of rainbow tiles on top.

Step Five.

Add the brackets and the long tile on the back.

I know brackets are a bit rare. Plate and tile would work just as well.

Step Six.

Add the jumper plates and wedges . I had more jumper plates than tile and sparkly lilac Stars I got half price so why not use them.

Step Seven.

Add the stars and let Neil inspect your build.

Step Eight.

Build him a seat.

He's eighteen now. He needs a seat

Step Nine.

Invite his friends and let him play.