#{ doc we all know that isn't true }

[thewinchestah]

"PREY" - Alastor x reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, begging, overstimulation, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink,

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: i lost count. it's big.

  | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A/N: Helloooooo!!! I write a lot but i never publish it! My lovely friend and also biggest inspiration for this fic @smallershorteranduncut ordered me to post this and i'm nothing but her loyal servent! I hope you guys enjoy the fruits of me writing 10 google docs pages today while i was enraged. Also english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here yadayayfayada! enjoy <;3 (UPDATE!) Part 2 is now up!

-

Everything about the Radio Demon seemed to be designed to make you desire him, want him. Many times in ways you weren’t even ready to admit to yourself. You haven’t been in Hell long, that’s true. But ever since you manifested here you felt like someone had picked your brain open to make Alastor the perfect bait to lure you into even more sinful, sinister paths. 

He had an inexplicable magnetism around him, a piercing presence that made your eyes stuck on him when he worked a room. He had you bewitched and you hadn’t share more than polite pleasantries with each other since you became a guest at the hotel.

Today, again, you were transfixed in his gaze. Sitting in the corner of the hotel lobby, trying to make your embarrassing attraction to him go unnoticed while Alastor waltzed across the room explaining more of his wicked plans to Charlie. God, how you wish he had his wicked way with you. 

He seemed more… on edge today. His red eyes  glowed a little brighter, his nostrils flared a bit more, static filling the room more often, he was smiling with almost barred teeth, and everyone seemed to be avoiding him. Even Charlie was trying to politely dismiss him, the general feeling of uneasiness inside the hotel  just growing larger when Angel stationed himself near your little corner of the room. 

“Don’t go near that creepy motherfucker today, he’s about to lose it.”  Angel alerted, almost whispering, a pair of his hands making the “crazy sign” near his head 

“Isn’t he always creepy and about to lose it?” Husk added, staring at the exchange between the radio demon and Charlie.

“I’m telling you toots, I know that guy definitely isn't normal, but today he is borderline a mass extinction event. I swear, he’s just waiting for someone to give him the excuse” Angel replied, confirming your suspicions. Something was off.

“Uh. Well, about that, I think it’s time we rescue Charlie” 

As if on cue Charlie turned to the corner of the room, gesticulating really hard to be taken away from the small commotion her conversation with Alastor was becoming. 

“Hey Charlie, do you remember that thing with the hotel’s… personalized stationery you asked me to help you today? Let’s do it!” Said angel gently guiding Charlie away from the Radio Demon.

“Guess that’s my cue Alastor! Greaaaaat chat! As always! Have a nice day!! Byeee!” Charlie’s overly chirpy tone giving away her uneasiness. 

Suddenly it felt like all the air was taken out of the room. Alastor’s neck turned into an ungodly angle, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Static grew around the group, almost suffocating. As your vision went blurry from the sheer power that was being evoked, you contemplated if there was another afterlife. Preferably one where you didn’t inherit a death wish from your previous ones.

And as quick as it started, it was over. 

Alastor just said a creepy “hm” turned on his hell, and walked away. 

It almost felt like it was all in your head, but your friends standing perfectly still and dead silent next to you gave the reality of the situation away: everyone just had a near death-death experience. Maybe it would be a good topic for Charlie’s bonding exercises, who knows with this place. 

“I told ya’ll. Mass. Extinction. Event. Stay out the psycho’s way”

Angel’s voice became background noise in your head, your eyes focusing on the spot where Alastor just threatened everybody’s life without saying a word. As the voices dissipated around you and normalcy slowly returned to the hotel, your mind sank deeper and deeper into the mystery that was the Radio Demon. 

-

They were so oblivious, so naive. Thinking he wasn’t listening what they said about him behind his back. Thinking he was unaware of him being the topic of the discussion when he wasn’t looking. He could bathe in the smell of their fear, and he was relishing it. 

Alastor stared at the new pretty little thing that arrived at the hotel. Oh how pathetically sweet and innocent she was, thinking she was being subtle about her infatuation with him. Thinking she could hide her interest in him, when she was nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes. Oh, she was just the perfect prey for him, wrapped in this lovely red bow she wore on her hair. 

Angel was right, he was just waiting for an excuse, and she just offered him one on a silver platter. And alastor was everything but a coward. 

-

You cursed a little bit louder than you intended when you saw the blood dripping from your finger. “Stop. making. a. spectacle. of. yourself” you mentally screamed. You still could not figure Charlie’s “special stationary stapler” out, so stapling your finger was bound to happen. 

Even though it was not much, the silly little cut was stinging like a bitch, and your best efforts to stop the bleeding were futile, considering the mess on the hem of your skirt. Still high on the adrenaline from earlier, your shaking hands searched for something, anything to put on your finger so you could continue your work without anyone noticing. Everyone already had enough for one day, it was fine. 

“My dear, did you just hurt yourself?” Alastor’s voice invaded your ears. Oh, fuck. That’s it, he was going to murder you for being so incompetent with the damned stapler.

Turning to face him, you meet his piercing gaze, not sure if you should run and scream for help. “Oh no worries alastor, it’s just a small cut, i can manage!” you give him your most confident smile. 

Alastor’s head tilts, eyes burning red as he watches the small droplets of your blood make their way down your index finger.  

“Nonsense, I can't have my staff running around with injuries and bloodied clothes. We are in hell, but we are not savages, dear” He seems transfixed by the blood, and you are too scared to move, too scared to anything other than hold the weight of his gaze and hope for the best. Your lizard brain is screaming for you to run, ask for help. Maybe Charlie isn’t too far away, could you make a run for it? Somehow your survival instincts override your brain, maybe all those hours watching true crime back on earth weren’t in vain, and you decide against running. Let him initiate first. 

He catches your wrist, trapping it inside his deadly claws. His face, towering over you, comes all the way down to inspect the offending finger. You can feel his breathing on your skin. 

Your breathing stops. You swallow an imaginary lump. He’s gonna bite off your fing-

“Would you be a doll and let me take care of it? Blood being unnecessary wasted truly abhors me” 

You must have said yes at some point, you don’t really remember, now you are holding the red handkerchief he handed  you, answering his request to “please follow him”. Trailing behind the Radio Demon, both of you walk through the large corridors. 

This might be the time to scream for help. the voices inside your head warn. With every step of his feet you hear his microphone going tsk tsk tsk where it touches the ground. You are walking the death row, the paintings on the wall chanting “dead woman walking, dead woman walking”. 

“Keep pressuring the wound darling, we are almost there” he gently commands you, too gently… it feels almost… soft, pleading. The way Alastor goes from 0 to 100 is giving you whiplash. 

He slows down, reaching for the door knob of an unknown room. Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to enter first.

the door locks behind you.

 if i’m being murdered, at least i’m being murdered with class. 

“Don’t be silly, I’m not going to murder you” Alastor says, almost singing the last part of the sentence. 

“Oh fuck, i said that out loud, didn’t I?” you blurted out 

“Yes you did. And yes, I also noticed your lovely doe eyes on me every time i’m in the room” 

Your brain short circuits. That 's it. You are dead. He’s not going to murder you (apparently), but you are going to die of embarrassment. It will feel like murder. He knows, fuck, he knows. He knows about your crush (?) and he’s going to drag you for it. You are going to be so dragged the angels will pity you and bring you to heaven. A creative way to be redeemed, Charlie should know about this. Your thoughts are going downhill as a big snowball, there are too many of them and you can’t follow a single coherent train of thought. You don’t even want to know how you look in the middle of this. You must look pathetic, truly like a doe caught in headlights. And then you hear your name once.

Twice now, in a sing-song voice.

Your eyes fly open towards the sound, breaking from the anxiety induced spell as you realize the Radio Demon had just called you, by name. He knows your name???

“Ah hahah! You’re back.” Alastor says, as he starts to circle you like a predator. Your eyes, as always, follow his across the room.

 “I don’t like to repeat myself, little doe. You heard what I asked?” 

Again, you don’t really remember answering, your brain is going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as you watch him pace around you, eyes burning red, demanding your attention. Teeth slightly barred, voice on the edge of something. Was that “X” on his forehead always there?

“I asked if you know what you are doing to me” static fills the room as he finishes speaking. Alastor’s clawed hand trapped your bloodied finger dangerously close to his grinning lips. Your brain is doing flips as he stares deep into your soul, and when your thoughts land you make the connection. Alastor is horny. Alastor is horny for y-

“You see, little doe, I know what your eyes hide when you desperately lower them everytime I come near you. I know how you feel you can hide in plain sight if you stay quiet enough. But I can taste it. Your fear. Your lust. In the air. In your blood.” He has a white knuckled grip on your wrist now, same with his microphone. You lower your guard, eyes going from startled to lustful. “Good thing right now there’s nothing more i want in this godforsaken pit than your lust, pet”

You want this. There’s no point in lying to yourself. You want Alastor to fuck you. You’ve fantasized about the Radio Demon taking you more times than you can count. More times than you would like to admit to yourself. This feels deeply wrong, but you crave it. 

Fuck it, you are in hell, there’s nothing to lose. Alastor is still watching you, impatiently. For the first time today you realize you actually forgot to say something. He’s waiting. Alastor is waiting for your permission. 

“Take my breath away, Alastor” 

Your permission might have been really loud, it felt like you were screaming the words. But you can’t be sure, it might have been a whisper. Either way he didn’t miss it, what happens next is fast, angry and delicious. 

Alastor pounces and licks the blood on your finger, something clicks inside him as he tastes the red liquid, because he lets go of his microphone instantly and his arms grab your waist aggressively, so forceful you wouldn’t be surprised if it breaks skin. You shouldn’t be so turned on by this, by the sight of a psychopathic demon drinking your blood. But you are, and there’s no going back. 

“Strip” he orders. You want to say to him that you can’t take your clothes off your person with him holding you like this. He must have realized the conundrum: if he wants you naked, he has to let go of you. To Alastor, letting go of you right now is simply unthinkable. So he doesn’t: you feel his claws cut the bodice of your dress open, sending the most delicious shivers down your spine. Another claw rips your skirt apart, and you are almost fully naked in the Radio Demon’s arms, pressing your body hard on his still impeccable dressed body.

It’s humiliating, it’s dangerous, it’s hot, it is delicious, to be at his complete mercy, just how you always wanted.

Somehow both of you made your way close to the enormous bed in the middle of the room. Alastor cornered you, so the only way you could escape was walking backwards towards the bed. The brilliant bastard. 

You feel your calves hitting the edge of the bed, and Alastor breaks away.

 Pity, your mind complains. Get him back to touching you again. right. now,.

“Now now, we should establish some rules for this, pet” Alastor’s hands might have stopped touching you, but his piercing eyes never did. He knocks you on top of the bed, you lay there sprawled open just for him. His hands move up to do a quick work of his bowtie

“Rule one: you will take what I give you. Nothing more, nothing less. What I give you is enough. You might feel like you can’t take anymore, but you can. You will take it, I will make you take it” He takes his tailcoat off, his frame towering over you, even with your body completely flat on the mattress and his in front of it. 

“ Rule two: every ounce of your pleasure is mine and mine only. Mine to give, mine to take. And you will give me everything. I want to hear every sound, to feel every touch, to know every nasty thought that runs inside that pretty little head of yours. You will not suppress anything, I wanna hear your moans when you make a mess of yourself as I take everything I desire from your delicious body. I will relish on your desperate screams of pleasure.Nothing outside these walls matter” He is climbing on the bed now. You hold the weight of his gaze, underneath your demonic lover’s eyes your skin burns.

“Rule three: don’t you dare cum without my permission, good girls earn their orgasms and you will be a good girl. Or else…” static starts to pick up around the room, you are seeing the blackest black that ever was, his shadows enveloping you both. Nothing outside these walls matter. “Understood?” Alastor says as he pins your hands on top of your head, against the fancy headboard. His hand cups one of your boobs and he is worrying your nipple between his sharp claws. finally finally, your mind sings. You feel a surge of magic binding your wrists in green chains, attached to the headboard. It’s overbearing, it’s ridiculous. His magic feels like him, another part of him for you to take.

He pinches your nipple particularly hard and you moan softly, pleasure and pain consuming any other sensation. You forgot to answer him, you realize. You’ve barely started and you are already being bad. “yes alastor, yes.. but please don’t stop” the soft whimper leaves your lips.

“lovely.” he replies, and with that his mouth is on your nipple, sucking it while he administers his wicked ministrations to your other one. His sharp teeth prickling on the edge of breaking skin, and you already feel like you won’t be able to take all of him. 

His hand trails down to aggressively grip your thighs, his tongue sucking the neglected nipple his fingers left. Your moans become frequent and messy, if he’s already making you go insane with the beginnings of foreplay... You might pass out and die when he starts fucking you, but you don’t care. Let him show you the true meaning of la petite mort.

“My my, what do we have here” his hand leaves your thigh to trace the wetness of your panties. A clawed finger rips it apart, the last barrier between you and total consumption by the Radio Demon. He takes the finger between your glistening lips, not entering, just teasing 

“I don’t think i will get enough of this pretty little body of ours anytime soon, pet” he says as his finger finally enters your sex, He moves his digit with an expertise you didn’t really know he had in him,  making you whimper his name, ooohs and aaaahs, your hips start threshing from the pleasure. If you continue at this pace, you will be  begging for permission to cum too soon. Pathetic. you think to yourself. Because you know how hard this building orgasm will be,you don’t know if he will grant you more than one orgasm. And will you murder you yourself if you don’t feel his cock inside you tonight. You take a deep breath in between your moans and will your hips to stay in place, your nerves to calm down. 

Alastor adds another finger, and it takes all of your willpower not to become a puddle of wetness right there. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood. 

“you do make a mess of yourself, don’t you? you just can’t help it” he says as he curls his digits inside you. Your hips start thrashing hard again, and you sink them deeper into the bed. The chains on your wrists shake with the effort to hold back. As if alastor wasn’t going to notice. “no no no what did I say?” he snaps angrily, he’s eyes flash red at you and he takes his fingers out with a wet “pop”, you feel like crying at the emptiness. “please please alastor, don’t stop” you plead. His hands leave you entirely, you are left with just his piercing gaze, the one that makes your skin burn. “did I say you could hold back? don’t pretend like you aren’t a common whore for me, that you love how pathetic it feels that you are creaming yourself and we haven’t even really started” 

his condescending tone just makes everything even more sublime. It’s so wrong how good being told you are nothing more than a common whore by the Radio Demon feels. But you never felt anything close to this. “please Alastor” you beg again, nothing but a small whisper

“I would love to taste this pussy, so red already for me, but since you broke one of the rules… i’m afraid I will make you understand that are nothing but my pretty cockslut the hard way” 

Punishment? His punishment sounds ever better than his praise right now. You moan at his voice. He laughs. 

His knees cage you, as he lifts his upper body from you and starts undoing his zipper. He is taking his cock out. Oh fuck, he’s gonna fuck you without anymore foreplay. And he’s not going to be gentle about it either. You shiver. 

Alastor pumps himself a few times, his cock is big, thick, and an angry red shade, flush red like that, because of you, just for you. He’s gonna make you pay: pay for holding back from him, pay for making him feel like an animal and almost losing his hard constructed control. 

The look on his face says it all, he’s gonna take it out on you and you can’t do nothing about it.

You don’t have much time to think about the repercussions, in one swift motion his tip is already inside you, stretching you deliciously. Your brain short circuits again, the feeling of his cock inside you is everything you imagine and more. Depraved, heavenly, delicious. You struggle in your binds again, you want desperately to touch him. To feel his skin beneath your finger, to scratch him, mark him. But oh well, he’s the Radio Demon, he’s the one in charge and you are his prey.

Alastor starts to slowly enter you, he’s trying his best to hold back. He knows if he does this too fast it will hurt in a way he doesn’t want you to feel. And by the look on his face going slow is as torturous for him as it is for you. tantalizing inch after tantalizing inch he spreads the walls of your cunt apart. You understand now why this is punishment, it hurts in a perfect way, it hurts even more that he is doing it slowly, and not just thrusting like you imagined  he would, if he had more time to work on you. 

You become a mess of moans and incoherent words. His cock is halfway inside you now “HoLY FUCK ALASTOR” you scream. It’s already too much. 

“There’s nothing holy about this my dear. I’m going to breed you. I’m going to break you” and with that he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Now you truly scream in pleasure and pain “you won’t be able to walk straight for days, you will feel me in every step, and you will thank me for it”. His thrusts pick up at breakneck speed, the bed shakes from the sheer force that Alastor is using to fuck you. Every snap of his hips you moan more and more. 

The sound you make when he takes everything out and enters you at once is so obscene that it would make Angel Dust blush. He’s growling now, his antlers growing bigger as he fucks you like his life dependend on it. As he fucks you like he hates you. 

Alastor pushes your hips higher, and suddenly he’s even deeper. His other hand holding your waist in a bruising grip. The strain on your pinned hands will bruise too. His lips graze the skin of your collarbone, he looks so feral you are scared he will maul, the thrill of not knowing adding to your fucked up sense of pleasure. 

He seems to pick up on your fear, and bites down on your collarbone, hauling as he tastes your blood and buries himself inside you again and again. Moans turned into screams, and the only thing coming out of your lips is his name, spoken like a profane prayer. You would give everything you have to Alastor, and he doesn’t even have to ask.

Your orgasm has been building for a while now, the coil on your belly becoming tighter and tighter, like a supernova about to be born. “Alastor, please please let me come” you beg. His unfocused eyes stare down at you, as he takes a moment from feasting on your sweet blood to address your desperate, sweet pleas.

“Don’t. You. Dare” he says, punctuating every word with a sharp thrust. As much as you want, you are not sure you will be able to hold any longer. “I beg you alastor, please let me cum, i will let you do anything you want. but i need it so badly, please please”

You sounded so desperate when you begged, so beautiful.

“Don’t strike deals you don’t know you can fulfill, pet” his voice is low, a warning. You ignore it. “I promise Alastor, anything”. Alastor laughs.

 his finger touches your clit as he finally allows your sweet relief “you may come now, sweet doe” and that’s it, you are off, you are dead. You see stars, you see the entire universe as you scream out and climax. Walls tightening around Alastor’s monster cock, eyes rowling, his name a scream on your lips. You ride out your wave slowly, but Alastor is not slowing down.

Instead he is picking up his pace, maneuvering your hips even higher, your chains are stretched to the limit. You can feel them start piercing your skin. Thrust after thrust the sensation becomes too much, you are too overstimulated to go through all of this again.

“i can’t take it, i can’t take it!”

Alastor doesn’t care. “I told you not to make deals if you can’t hold them, didn’t I?” You don’t answer, you can’t. you can’t to anything but let him fuck you as hard and as much as he want. “but you are such a little cockslut for me that you can’t help it. What a shame” 

He is gripping your hips so hard it breaks skin, tiny trails of blood on his claws. “you will take it. You better take it, or I will make you take it” static picks up as he threatens the last words. You know you are spent, you know how bad it hurts, you know how bad his words sound, but the lines between pleasure and pain are so blurred that you can’t think coherently. Even this  pain of being broken feels good. 

Still, tears fill your eyes and you start crying, from pleasure, from pain, you don’t know anymore. What Alastor is doing to you has no precedent. No one can do this like he does. He knows torture too well, and he is tortouring you in the most decadent, delicious ways possible. “alastor i want to, i want to so bad but i just can’t” the tears sting your eyes and stain your face. 

Alastor sees it. He slows down just a bit, his voice softening “oh my dear doe, but you can. Just this once more, just for me. One more” his voice is so maddening soft it acts like fuel to your tears. Your skin tingles and you feel giddy, somehow your throbbing hot, wet cunt seems to find the right amount of relief, and you can feel only pleasure again.

Alastor continues to fuck you, your moans returning to normal, you are being so loud now, making a mess of yourself, just like he said, and a big hand comes to cover your mouth. 

“Oh we can’t have you being this loud can we?” his voice goes to that delicious mocking tone. His thrusts are slower now, but as deep as they can go. “what would you friends say if they found out that you moan like a common whore for their feared radio demon.. hum,.?”

You start to feel the pit of your belly tightening again, and alastor doesn’t stop humiliating you. The degradation feels just the right amount of perfection. You are exactly what he says you are. A common whore when it comes to him. “weren’t you ashamed just a few moments ago? trying to hold back the sinful sounds you make when I touch you? I already gave you one orgasm. I’ve been way too generous for my liking. I should stop right now since you feel so conscious about this”  Alator’s breathing is becoming erratic, his thrusts sharp, hard, and out of the breakneck rhythm he was torturing you before.You start moaning even louder through his hand. “ungrateful little pet. You are just so greedy for one more orgasm, you don’t even care that everyone downstairs can hear you hm??”

You can’t think straight. you feel on the edge of glory, this orgasm threatening to be harder than your previous one, as if it is possible. “alastor i’m so sorry, i know i don’t deserve it” you muffle behind his hand, he hears you speaking and takes if off “but can you please let me cum? just this once? just for you. Please Al” his thrusts are truly erratic now. He’s close too, even though you are too wrapped up on your own sensations to notice 

“please” you beg, nothing more than a whisper. Already making peace with the fact that you are going to come without his permission and he will probably never fuck you again

“Good girl, you can come now”

instantly as you are granted his permissions your world explodes, blinding hot pleasure takes over your body, the waves of pleasure making your heart beat so fast you feel like it’s going to stop. The petit mort is coming, and her sweet embrace envelops you, specially now that you feel Alastor’s cock twitching and spilling his seed inside you. You scream his name. Maybe you hear him screaming yours too. You don’t know anymore, your nerves are singing from pleasure unheard of back  when you were alive. Pleasure so great it could only be found in hell. The most heavily, depraved way of torture. 

You come down from your high, still dizzy, your body going limp. You are not dead, but you are positively spent. You give in into the warm and fuzziness of sleep. 

The last thing you remember is the softness of a blanket, a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Oh my dear, I knew you had one more on you,spending yourself this way just for me! What a truly precious thing, doe”

You might be dreaming now.

-

You weren’t dreaming. Alastor praises you, knowing his words will be the last thing you hear before a night of peaceful, deep dreamless slumber. He makes sure to put the softest velvet blanket he owns on your body, not to make the damage you gladly allowed your body to take for him an inconvenience. Tomorrow you will wake up to fancy letters of praise and sweet chocolate covered strawberries. And no one will know how Alastor found the perfect doe to breed as he pleases during the height of his mating season.

[luxthestrange]

RoR Y/n's Thoughts#5

Y/n*Starring at your bacon sandwich and...cookies your mama gave you*Dude...why is bacon called bacon?...cand cookies called cookies?...if you COOK bacon....and BAKE cookies...

Raiden*In his bed...with no woman at all given you are a woman repelled after they all got existential crisis...which is a turn off*...Y/N PLEASE NOT NOW, IM TRYING TO SLEEP

Y/n*Looks at tags in your clothes*...do clothes in China...just say "Down the road"?...

Raiden is in bed dramatically looking at Jack...with a psychiatrist gets up with a pen and clipboard, humming listening to Raiden

Raiden:..Doc i...I dont know...the government says we can't leave our house anymore because all the questions they ask... is a threat to society!?!-...JUST LOOK AT LU BU HE IS OFF FOR THE COUNT-

Raiden took you out and dumped you in Qin Shi Huang's lap as he was speaking to Hades

Y/n:...If your shirt isn't tucked into your pants... are your pants tucked into your shirt?...

Raiden*Already leaving*AAAAAAAAAAAH!?

Hades:....

Qin Shi:...

Y/n:...If you are invisible...but close your eyes...*Looks at Hades*...can you see through your eyelids?...

Hades*Hums at the idea, rubbing his chin*Oh you read about my helmet!... You know I never tried that little one...that sounds fascinating to try

Y/n*Eyes widen and looks at Qin Shi...then at Hades, gets off Qin Shi lap and runs to sit at Hades's lap holding his face now*...DUDE A FIRE TRUCK IS ACTUALLY A WATER TRUCK-

Hades*Smilling a tiny bit liking your sudden Gung ho energy directed to him,holding your hips in his hands to keep you steady*Oh my~I suppose that is true~

Qin Shi*Didnt like how you up and chose Hades to lap over his lap*...

Part 5 of:

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel does everything he can to make you feel better after a civilian casualty steals your ‘sunshine’. —a fic featuring reluctantly adoring miguel and his sad spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 4k

cw character death, violence, reactive depression

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Miguel," you say, your voice grained by the communicator in his ear, "this universe is almost the same as mine, right?" 

Miguel stares down at a Doc Ock variant you're staking out, lying in wait for the anomalistic antagonist to make his first move. He's trying desperately to maintain his focus but you have a nice voice, and you ask him with a confidence that betrays your total faith in him. You haven't considered that he might not know. 

Well, Miguel does know. He's not sure he should start this discussion and distract you, but he has trouble saying no to you in any capacity, so he does. 

"I don't know every difference, but yeah, they're the same. Same geography, world leaders, roughly the same fast food chains." He bites his lip. He's at work, more than work —you're attempting to save an entire dimension, here— and he shouldn't feed the conversation anymore. But he knows you'll be interested in this. "Donuts aren't a thing, here."

"What?" 

"They have donuts, but they aren't called donuts, and they're nowhere near as popular." 

"This is a very strange way to flirt," Lyla says, her flickering hazed by a golden aura as she changes rapidly between laying on her front, legs kicking, and her back, as though she's in a therapist's daybed. She floats across his vision lazily.

"That's because I'm not," Miguel says. 

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing. Talking to Lyla." 

"How come Lyla doesn't talk to me?" you ask sweetly.

Miguel can see you in the distance, your simple black suit like an ink splodge against the blue grey glass of the skyscraper you're standing on. Anchored with a web and your body tensed, you're perfectly parallel to the ground below, as though you're standing on the windows. 

"It's not that I don't want to," Lyla promises. "Miggy won't let me." 

"That is not true." 

Projections cover Miguel's vision, powered by his favourite lying intelligence. Movements are mapped in a bright marigold yellow, though the net turns red to signify potential danger, chance percentages bouncing up and down. Doc Ock raises an arm and it turns an eye-straining red. He sits down on a park bench and his body turns yellow again. It's a smart program, but it can't account for everything. 

"Something isn't right." 

You hum appreciatively. "It feels weird, how he's acting. Like he's two separate people." 

Doc Ock glitches hard, the air around him fractured by colours in varying depths, like a tangible, physical screen tone. They've been coming faster. He doesn't have much time before he begins to tear apart, and that tearing will prompt panic. Panic will prompt anger. 

"What should we do?" you ask. 

Miguel doesn't know. He regrets asking you to come with him, not that you aren't capable. When you first joined the Spider Society you'd hadn't been Spider-Girl in your own universe for very long, and you weren't particularly proactive. You were kind-hearted but lackadaisical, and after worming your way into his life, a flower budding between concrete slabs it shouldn't have the power to crack, (he seriously doesn't know how it happened, only that you'd been bringing him things, carefully wrapped foods and trinkets you'd made, your bad conversation, and suddenly you were worrying about him and doting on him in the strange way that you do, suddenly, he was doing the same), you decided you wanted to help. You've trained hard on Spider-led courses at the Society, improving your overall fitness, your stamina, your technique, to become the fighter you are now. You can hold your own well. 

Miguel knows what motivated you. You want to look after him. You'd all but admitted to it. And that's why Miguel wishes he asked someone else to come with him, because you'll put yourself in harm's way as he would for you, to protect. 

"Why did you want to know if this universe was the same?" he asks, the nano of his suit morphing over his hands, claws growing long and minaciously sharp.

"Oh! Because, I used to have these favourite cookies called Butter Leaves, but they stopped making them in my dimension 'cos of the Whey disease. Even when it was better, loads of companies couldn't come back…" 

You give him the entire history. He already knows it. He tries to listen to you with the attention you deserve anyway, only he's weighed the options, and taking down Doc Ock feels much more important than listening to your cravings. 

"They were really thin and they had this sweet coating brushed over the top. You'd like them, I think." Miguel drops the last hundred feet to the ground, ignoring the jarring heat in his ankles at such a landing without having rolled into it. "If they were a little softer and had some sugar they'd taste just like polvorones, Miguel."

"You could say that about lots of things," Miguel argues, tone measured as not to alert bystanders nearby of his presence. 

"This doesn't feel like a good idea," Lyla says. Standing now, alert. 

Miguel toggles the communicator so you can't hear him. 

He wonders if you'd even notice him speaking over the intensity of your excitement, "I know it's not professional but maybe we could go and look? After we beat the bad guy. They're more than worth it, I swear," you say hopefully. 

"It's fine," he says to Lyla, throwing out a hand, shins braced and ready to burst into a tackle. 

"It feels off, you both said it." 

"It always feels off. He's in the wrong dimension, his presence caused a shift. The wrongness is unavoidable, like the body–" 

"Rejecting an organ transplant," Lyla says. "I know. You say it constantly." 

"If you know, why are you asking?" he asks, deadpan. 

"Good to know your girlfriend can ask questions and I can't. You're a trailblazer for equality, O'Hara."

Not my girlfriend, he thinks, but he isn't sure how true that is. Miguel realigns his eyesight, the holographic netting that pinpoints anomalistic stress a menacing red where it maps Doc Ock's limbs. The colours are abrasive against the yellow-green leaves fluttering in the breeze to the grass below, trees like arms stretched toward one another standing behind the simple brown bench where Doc Ock murmurs drunken-sounding ravings. 

Miguel's fangs slice through gum and lock into place. He tries not to salivate. The paralysing agent produced gives him a numb tongue. 

Miguel attempts to work quickly. Approach the target. Lock the target in. Incapacitate. He rears back and takes a deep breath. 

"Wait! Behind! Behind you, Miguel, there's something behind you!" 

He twists backward without hesitation and swings his arm around a cold neck. He squeezes hard, hears a metallic crunch similar to a mortar and pestle, but the person in his chokehold isn't a person, it's a robot. 

"Octobots!" Lyla shouts. 

"HELPFUL!" Miguel shouts back, grunting as a robotic arm curves around his back, and then a second, a third. 

The hills of his muscles strain against white-lacquered steel, a sweat breaking at the back of his neck as he groans, desperate to stop the octobot from crushing his arms to a powder. He can practically hear the creaking of his humerus. 

Around him, civilians scatter, screaming for their lives as a small horde of octobots descends on the park. Doc Ock doesn't react to the chaos. He sits there muttering to himself as people run past him and his octobots play cat and mouse. Miguel finally snaps the arms off the robot holding him with a pissed grunt, punching the carcass of machinery away from him while you tuck and roll from a dive to the ground. In an impressive show of your improvement and coordination, you throw out a web as you roll and hit Doc Ock square in the face, a second binding his chest to the bench. You spring to your feet, shooting at bots one after another. You must take down six by the time he's gathered his bearings. 

"On your left," Lyla says. Miguel smashes a bot at the apex of its white body and she laughs. "Nice. Behind." 

Miguel falls into the fight as though it's a well-practised dance. With the stress maps locked on, quick-thinking, and Lyla's pointed direction, Miguel can decapitate or incapacitate each bot swiftly as long as they don't get a hold on him like the first one managed. 

You're like Lyla in that a good skirmish seems to set you off —you're giggling, cheering, enjoying yourself much more than you should be. "This is just like that video game," you say, leaping onto a moving octobot and shooting webbing at the joints, gumming them up until they can't move. "With the girl and her super powered puppy, you know that one?" 

"Of course I don't know that one." Miguel brings his claws down into the aluminium shell of an octobot as it swipes your legs from under you and tears it in two. It cracks like a halved apple, the gore of its inside sparking and smoking as it hits the ground in tandem with you. Your head whacks hard into the concrete pathing beneath. He doesn't have time to help you. 

The arm of a bot races forward like a stinger. This one must be the head of the hive, the Queen bee so to speak, far more complicated than the others in the plating of her ivory bodice and chain-mail like shielding on her arms.

Miguel swears under his breath and vaults at it. 

He pulls your droid feed up in his display, watches you writhe from one side and the other as your pained moans play in his ear. You clamber onto wobbly footing as Miguel descends, the screeching cry of metal while it's shorn apart beneath his hands not half as loud as your useless gasping —you're winded, likely concussed. 

"Civilian entering range," Lyla says. 

"What? Where?" 

Lyla has your drone's camera spin on the spot to show Miguel the civilian stupid enough to enter an active fight zone. They aren't stupid at all, it figures, but unaware. A man in activewear jogs the beaten path with headphones in, eyes to the ground. He stops for a moment to look at his sports watch, and like the octobot can tell, it shakes Miguel like a bothersome flea and surges for him. 

You're closest. 

"Y/N!" Miguel shouts, knowing it's too late before he so much as closes his mouth. You turn, your head braced in your hand, breathing hard with pain. Miguel would take it back if he could. 

You can't save the civilian, but you can watch him die. 

—

People look at him like he's a ghost, sometimes. Wide-eyed, horrified, they move aside in the halls. They treat him how he feels on his worst days, like someone who should've died a long time ago. Today, things are different. 

No less than three Peter Parker' have stopped to stare at him unabashedly. Nearly all make the same jokes, Late for a date?

He'd honestly prefer feeling like a ghost. He can't deal with their derision and he doesn't want to, ignoring their looks and their judgement as he treks to the elevator that's gonna drop him outside of the medbay. The only person he wouldn't mind poking fun at him is you. 

You aren't in the mood. 

Miguel doesn't acknowledge your prone form at first. He walks to your bedside table to deposit the bouquet he'd chosen, peonies for good health and strength, swapping old for new, changing the water in your small shared sink. He may orchestrate the Spider Society, but Miguel's special privileges can't reduce the extreme turnover rate of the medbay. You have curtains to partition the room for privacy, and you got the bed by the window, and that's as much as he could get you. You deserve better. 

Miguel opens the window to drown out the smell of antiseptic. He stands in front of it, his shadow stretching over your twisted hip. You're not sleeping, you're resting. Doctor's orders.

Miguel wishes you'd deign to rest in your own bed, or his, but you're a little too catatonic for a safe discharge either way. 

He sighs quietly. You likely hear it with your enhanced senses and still you remain an impassive lump under your blue hospital blanket. 

"Good morning," he says, instead of the thousand other things he wants to say, that he's too much of a coward to ask. "Let's get up." 

He doesn't give you any choice about it. Starting slow, Miguel rounds the bed to meet your eyes through your sluggish blinking. Perhaps you'd been more asleep than he thought. 

Gentle, Miguel peels down your blankets enough to push his hands under your armpits. He pulls you up into a sitting position, and it —it breaks his heart. He's a monolith, he's hurting, he has years and years of loss and grief behind him and it doesn't matter, it finds him again. His heart breaks at your limblessness and your willingness to be positioned like a paper doll. 

Miguel arranges the sad pillow behind you and puts the remote for the adjustable bed frame in your hand. The last time you'd been here in the medbay after a training exercise fractured your ulna, you'd spent pretty much the entire time messing around with your bed, even as they crafted your cast. It made for messy work. Miguel must've told you to quit it fifty times. 

Your fingers curl around the remote. 

Miguel perches on the mattress on one knee to fix the protective style your hair is in. Nothing serious, just smoothing the tiniest of stray hairs and making sure it's still comfortable. He strokes your temple absentmindedly, checking you over one feature at a time. Tired eyes, nose tip looking parched, your lips chapped. Frowning, he sits properly, and he pulls your big hospital bag from the bedside table, his hand falling to your wrist to say, Hey, I'm here, and I'm not going far.

He finds your smaller bag of toiletries and necessities and unzips it. He tries not to think about the last time he had to take care of someone like this as he cleans your face with a wet wipe, two fingers wrapped in the wipe and petting at your skin carefully. He notices the life returning to you inchingly, his touch a tether you're pulling on, so he prolongs his actions. He smooths moisturiser over your face extra slowly. If you asked why, he could say it's cold, but you don't ask.

Your face shiny in the sunshine filtering in through the wide windows, you almost look like yourself again. 

"Are you hungry?" 

You shake your head. An almost imperceptible gesture. 

"This is why you don't feel well," he says. "You're not eating enough." 

"That's not why," you say.

He aches to hear your voice. I know, he thinks, but doesn't say. 

"Eat something," he says. 

You shake your head again. He managed to bring you back and squash you back down in less than a minute. He really doesn't like himself, at that moment. Often, but especially now. He's failing you. He failed you with the octobots and he's failing you now. 

Miguel refuses to fail someone he cares about again. 

He takes the remote for your bed and lifts the top section so you can sit back comfortably. He shakes the blankets out over you, and he puts away your things. Hopeful, Miguel places new pyjamas and underwear with your shower caddy at the end of the bed and pulls a strict pose, hands crossed over his chest. 

"I need to go. Shower, eat breakfast when it comes. Please." 

You give him a look that might mean Yes but probably doesn't mean anything, laying down as much as the bed allows and turning your face from him toward the flowers. Miguel leaves, stopping a ways away to look back, and watches through the gap of your curtains as you reach out to touch the flowers he'd brought. Your pinky finger is less than an inch from the petals when your movement stutters, your hand falling back to your chest with a soft thud. You close your eyes. 

When Miguel returns, he's thankful to find you've done as he told you. Showered, changed, a discarded breakfast tray at your feet. You've attempted the oatmeal and left the toast to go cold, congealed butter white against golden yellow. 

Miguel swaps the tray for his bags. He's hoping you might be tempted to look while he's gone. He knows before you would've known the entire contents of the open bag by the time he'd left the room, but he returns having taken your tray to the rack and is sorely disappointed. 

That's fine, he decides. You don't have to look. He doesn't mind laying things out for you. 

First port of call: extra pillows. He pulls the plastic wrapped 'hotel pillows' up onto your sheet and tears the plastic. They pop out. He didn't think for pillow cases, so he slides them behind your hospital pillow and pushes you down by the shoulders, not cruel but not particularly gentle —you actually laugh at his handling. He bites back a smile. 

"What, you got me presents?" you ask as he dumps a blanket onto your lap. It's one of those soft, shiny fleece ones patterned with those characters you love so much, the girl and her super powered puppy. 

You rub your hands over it appreciatively and spread it out over your legs. "What's that mean?" he asks, pointing at the Chinese characters, '超級汪汪!'. 

"Chāojí wāngwāng!" you cheer, an impression missing the majority of your usual pep. "Super woof. It's his level five power up. He yaps and Joyce gets her HP back." 

Miguel pretends to know, like he'd forgotten, and you're reminding him. "Ah."

You're watching now, interested. He puts his back between you and the bag and you whine weakly, "Miguel." 

"What? You think these are for you?" 

"Please, I want to see." 

He gives in like a cheap tent, passing you a packet of pearly beads for your bracelet making, skeins of variegated thread that change colours, a packet of pencils with frogs on the lids, a plushie. You don't know how to react and Miguel doesn't know what to say. He honestly doesn't want to say anything, vulnerability stopped being his thing a while ago, but he clears his throat. "Do you know what I look like in the middle of Miniso? Picture it."

Miniso being a Chinese home goods store lined floor to ceiling with plushies.

You laugh weirdly. Miguel knows it's guilt holding you back. 

"One last thing." He sits down on the bed next to you, hands big enough to cover the box in its entirety. "You were wrong, by the way. Extremely wrong, these don't taste a thing like polvorones." 

He passes you the box. You take it into steady hands, smiling widely, your thumb brushing up against the black cursive font. A box of butter leaves from one of your sister dimensions.

"I don't know if they'll taste like they did. Are they the same ones?" 

You nod, loosing a breath between parted lips. "Same ones." 

"If you don't eat them all, I won't get them for you again." 

"That's so mean," you murmur. Miguel would apologise if he thought you meant it. 

"That's how it is. Eat your cookies. I'll come back later to make sure you actually ate dinner." 

He stands. You immediately grab him, cookies dropped in favour of braceleting his wrist in your warm fingers. 

You look up at him through your lashes, a frown dampening your pretty features. At least, in his eyes. 

"Please don't go," you say. Your eyebrows pinch together. It's even more heartbreaking than your catatonia, this pleading loneliness, like you think he won't stay. 

"You have to talk to me," Miguel says. He softens at your chastised wince, sitting back down again. "Did you want a hug?" he asks. 

It's an apology to offer it, though he should've asked you this morning, or yesterday, even the day before. You'd been inconsolable when it happened. Miguel's never seen you that way. Your sunshine shattered, your shoulders shaking under his hands as he led you away from the scene, he didn't hug you like he wanted to. It wouldn't have made a difference at the time. You couldn't speak. You could barely walk. 

Seeing something like that happen leaves a mark, even if you've seen it before. 

You sweep aside your gifts and twist your legs to climb onto your knees. Miguel hadn't realised how much you wanted to be close to him until you're bordering his lap, your arms sliding over his shoulders, your pyjamas soft and smelling of antiseptic under his nose. A switch flicks at your nearness. He pulls you into his lap and sandwiches you there, chest to chest, thankful for his stature because it means he can encapsulate you effortlessly. He can hide you from the world for a short while. 

You choke him half to death. 

"It's okay," he says, your back curved into the length of his forearm, leaning forward so you can take the weight off. "You're okay." 

"I don't– it's not me. I'm not worried about me." 

"It's over," he says. "What's done is done." Which isn't to say it isn't tragic, or that it didn't leave a permanent mark on the world. But you're punishing yourself for a crime you didn't commit.

"It's all my fault," you whisper, your cheek pressing to his shoulder, face hidden in the juncture of his neck.

He tilts his head toward you. "It's my fault. I jumped in. I wanted it to be quick."

"I let him…" 

"You had a grade ii concussion, you didn't let anyone do anything. I'm lucky you didn't pass out right there. I'm lucky you had the ability to defend yourself, because I left you defenceless." 

"No, you didn't, it–" You rub your cheek against his shoulder. "It happened really fast, you were making sure that bot didn't get me because I was stupid enough to leave myself open–" 

"Stop it."

It's harsh enough to stop you in your tracks. Miguel sighs hard, hair blowing away from his face. 

He lays down backward, skewiff on your bed, and pulls you with him in a secure but gentle hold. You make a quiet 'oof' as you go down. Apologetic yet again, Miguel rubs a line up and down your back, fingertips between your shoulders, palm flattening as he reaches the small of your back, your shirt inching up. He's sure you look foolish to anyone watching, but for once, he's past embarrassment. 

"I don't want to hear you blaming yourself. It's not your fault." 

You've twisted on your side on the mattress rather than crush his pelvis, though your chest remains pressed to his. You twist a strand of his dark hair around your finger. "Why did you bring me all this stuff?" you ask softly. 

"To make you feel better." 

"But why… do you… want that? Why does it matter that much, that you'd waste time going to get me things?" 

"Why do you think?" he asks. 

Your lips ghost the column of his throat. "Mm… 'cos you're nicer than you let on." 

"Wrong." 

You laugh again. He's more grateful than he'd ever say aloud. 

"Because you care about me too much." 

Too much is right. He feels like he's at the stern of the universe's most important ship. The universes, plural. That ship is heading square for an iceberg, for the precipice of a gargantuan whirlpool, and there's nothing Miguel can do but hand out buckets and veer sharply to the left, hoping it will be enough, knowing deep down that it won't be if something doesn't give soon. And he's lived a life, two lives, before he even met you. He's tired. He doesn't want to lose anyone else, and he hoped he could do that by never caring again. 

What a stupid hope. 

"I just want you to feel like yourself again," he admits. 

"I really wanted to save him." 

"You can't save everyone." 

He knows better than most. 

"I know," you say, no tears left to cry, voice impossibly small. 

Miguel wraps his arms around you and doesn't let go for a long, long time. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you so much for reading, I really really hope you enjoyed! please think about reblogging if you liked it, I appreciate it <3

[olderthannetfic]

I know you love scivener, but do you know anything about ellipsus? It's meant to be an aternative to google docs for collaborative writing.

I heard about them when they dropped nanowrimo as a sponsor over their inclusion of AI bullshit, which seemed promising. And digging around on their homepage I saw mentions of beta reading and ao3, and apparently they're trying to promote themselves on Tumblr now.

So it really sounds like we're the target audience, which could be great, but I don't know enough to be able to tell if there's an obvious catch somewhere?

--

This is the first I've heard of them. A quick scroll through their website seems promising.

As usual, the basic questions are:

How much does this product cost to develop?

Do they have a business plan that makes sense with that cost?

This kind of software can, theoretically, be made by a few friends dicking around, not a huge programmer team all of whom have it as their primary job, so it isn't the pile of massive red flags that all attempts at social media are.

From the site:

"Today we are a small, close-knit team of seven, located across the post-capitalist landscapes of Berlin, Bologna, Buenos Aires, and Szczecin. (So much for our alliteration-based hiring strategy.) True to our mission, we're a progressive, remote-friendly company that prioritizes creativity, community, and creative exchange."

Jobs are listed as: Co-founder and CEO, Co-founder and community, Product and marketing, Design, and Engineering x3.

That seems like a reasonable breakdown and a size of team that could possibly be paid for with some non-insane business model.

The types of red flags we're looking for are

"We want to be the next instagram!"

Many idea people with nebulous skills, few programmers

Thinking you can run tumblr with three programmers

Thinking you can pay for 100 programmers with a cheapass subscription model

Programmers are random, cheap contract workers the founders don't know

Venture capital from sources that will want a big payout rather than support from people who share the goals/values of the team

Extremely overcrowded field with tons of products that do exactly this already

Unclear nature of product or a product that doesn't seem to actually have a market

etc.

What they say about money is in the FAQ:

Will Ellipsus have a paid plan? In order to grow the team and fund ongoing feature development, we will need to charge for a version of Ellipsus at some point. A paid version would be targeting users with specific needs related to advanced security, data syncing, and collaboration. But there will always be a free version of Ellipsus, and we want to be as generous as possible in what's included on that free plan (e.g., unlimited docs and drafts, for starters). It takes time to build a great freemium experience (not to mention a premium product people will happily pay for), which is why we won't roll that out in 2024. While the features that will be included in our paid plan aren't final-final, we can share that everything in the product today will be included in our free plan.

This sounds reasonable. It just remains to be seen whether they keep at it or go belly up (taking your data with them). I guess you'd have to know more about the specific people building this to decide whether they'll be reliable.

The biggest potential issues I see are it being difficult to get people to ditch google docs despite its issues, this taking off big time and the owners deciding to sell it for $$$$$$ to someone who will then ruin it, or the team just not being competent.

But since I don't know any of them, I have no idea how good they are at business.

[thewertsearch]

GG: hi kanaya! it is nice to meet you GA: Hi Jade

D’aww. Our two Aspect sisters, face-to-face at last.

I imagine these two will become fast friends - and, oddly enough, I think the same could be true of Rose and Vriska. I think they'd either really like each other, or really hate each other.

AA: kanaya tell us what happened next! GA: There Isnt Much To Say GA: I Repaired The Doll And Made Him A Nice Outfit GA: With A Far More Becoming Palette And Fit Than The Absurd Tatters He Was Found In

Cal's the most dangerous Felt member of all, naturally. He outranks English himself!

This could easily be foreshadowing, honestly. Cal's definitely plot relevant, and he totally could be connected to the...

...

.... the felt?

The Felt? The god damn Felt?

The living puppet might be connected to the FELT?

Fuck me running. This is foreshadowing, isn't it?

Cal is actually connected to the Felt. He's a tool they use, or a manifestation of one of their powers, or something. Of course he's a literal puppet of Doc Scratch's grand plan. Of fucking course.

:(

It makes sense that Tavros would enter the Bubbles through this scene, since he was killed in essentially the same way. Poor guy got mugged on Memory Lane.

GA: I Quickly Began To Find The Doll Unnerving So I Put Him Away

Kanaya, you are the smartest motherfucker in this comic.

AA: this is only a piece of the story AA: the other pieces will fall into place with successive memories and it will all become clear AA: […] i will eliminate some suspense and try to serve as a better guide on this tour through the catacombs of our collective subconscious AA: the separate tunnels we once traveled in the dark as individuals we now retrace together with a torch

I really like how Aradia's wasting absolutely no time. Her first act as a living girl is to gather everyone she can in the Bubbles, and her second act is to start absolutely vomiting information, clearly determined to share everything her ghost held back.

No more allusions, riddles, or dancing around the truth. It’s time to pool our knowledge, and figure. Shit. Out.

AT: i REMEMBER GETTING JUMPED OFF THE CLIFF BY MY LEGS, AT: bUT NOT THE THING i'M DOING NOW, […] AA: our manipulator disguised his tracks well

Scratch – because, come on, why pretend there's any ambiguity - somehow forced Tavros to use his psionics unconsciously. Who knows how he pulled that one off, but that's not what's important.

What's important is the million-Boondollar question.

Namely: what is the most dangerous Alternian animal Doc Scratch could possibly control?

...oh, no.

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

Docm77 as well as MANY other have fallen face first into this media-related ragebait and I'm here to explain why you shouldn't be mad at Doc/be upset but not "wish ill things on your child" upset, which yes. I did see. Shame on you person. Shame.

Ahem.

So upon waking up in the UK/Europe, we didn't necessarily have the build up to the presidential election due to timezone conflictions, so for many people (myself include) 6am to 9am we woke up to Trumps victory speech on the trending tab. I'm not joking, that's how people going out and how I found out

There have been a mixed bag of reaction but Doc is getting hate for saying, and I quote "Lol... Really USA? This is what I wake up to?"

Alot of people say this was insensitive, and excuse my language and I don't mean to upset, it's because they're Americans and (again apologies) Americans have been socialised into to being quite emotional about politics and read into everything that happens regarding it. Which is something that the rest of the world kinda looks down on America for, because it makes you look like 'cultist' (this isn't my viewpoint however we do discuss this alot in certain class and this is how other people see you)

Doc's reaction is not trying being insensitive, because to literally anyone else it's a reaction of speechlessness and confusion. Which the majority of people saw it as.

Because we all woke up to that.

Doc isn't trying to be insensitive, but I do understand why people think he's being insensitive, his confusion and speechlessness is being written off as dismissive.

People are saying the word 'lol' is worth cursing at his family over

1. That's not tolerated here. Don't be sending threats or harassing him.

2. Lol, has cultural differences in meaning.

In the US countries, it means 'haha funny!' or it can be a dismissive reply (in text format)

But in other countries, lol, is also used as a 'your joking right?' or 'pretty funny joke'. An example being 'lol what?' (funny joke, but what does it mean)

Many people think the lol is dismissive but it's not. He, along with many other actually didn't believe Trump had won yet and learnt about it in the worst way possible

Secondily he made a comment about dealing with "another 4 years of insanity" which people also thought was rude.

But sadly, it's actually true to alot of people outside the US. We only see the "funny" or mildly annoying bits of your media (because of filters and blockers) and sadly, I'll admit we don't know the full picture other than the Americans insanity over politics

It's literally what your known for in the UK.

So the '4 years of insanity' is definitely an exaggeration but is definitely true in some way. We get the bud of all the "Americans drama" and it's mostly the insane stuff, heck that's how flordia man and ohio became memes. So it's not unrealistic for us to see the next year's as insanity because it is. Just very dramatised

Also quick point, people are saying that because of this he doesn't support the LGBTQIA+ and to that I say; Rendog + his entire fanbase respectfully

Now the big boy issue. Doc said he won't talk about politics and Palestine yet talked about politics now? Why?

Why didn't Doc talk about Palestine?

And for similar reasons as to why alot of other people didn't talk about it, including myself. Not out of fear or something. It's because of the scams.

Being "late" to new media is frustrating especially when it comes to supporting people, and genuinely by the time I heard about Palestine I saw the scams first.

Doc HAS a younger audience demographic, who are more likely to get scammed because they do look very realistic and they even have fake followers and everything.

Why not get one from a reliable source? Well what is a reliable source? Because if something goes wrong people will blame you because you endorsed them.

Why not go to charities? Sadly their are now currently many scummy charities that do take alot of the donation percentage. (including some gofundme pages)

So to address this, Doc just didn't address it. And YES he admittedly should have explained why, instead of leaving it up to people to infer because as we can see, some people took it the wrong way. And I can see how they took it the wrong way, he didn't communicate it very well.

But to me and many others, the intentions were clear and that's why their were no comments made. However I do believe he shouldn't have used the excuse about not wanting to talk about politics, because that does have consequences long-term. And that why I'm here today

And this brings me to my final point.

People are forcing opinions out of other people and when their opinions don't aline they get mad about it. So to avoid this people either refuse to comment or have their own methods of tackling it or simply blurt it out because of pressure.

A modern example of this would be Kim. K and her son (ik shocking). Her son talked about supporting Trump and she got mad about it, told him to take down the videos and allegedly made him sign a contract saying to never make a video about politics.

Kim. K is actively avoiding being pressured into speaking by not responding and keeping it in.

However, another example of this would be Vivziepop. Due to recent events regarding her shows being leaked and the recent elections that damaged the integrity of women's rights and healthcare, she broke down on twitter.

Letting some of her frustrations spill out. This was encouraged by people personal targeting her, and basically harassing her to the point of breaking down.

These same types of people are trying to do the same to people like Aismey, Doc and even Jimmy Solidaritygaming because of thier social media presence, and when they have a reaction but then change their opinion it's suddenly a "well you didn't say that before!"

So to be clear, the circumstances of Docm77 is brought upon by miscommunication and ragebaiting. Dont go and threaten his family, voice your concerns respectfully in this troubling time (even if you're frustrated, you should project that onto someone else)

IF YOU SEE ANYONE RAGEBAITING REPORT IT

And have a good night ya'll

[beardedmrbean]

Biden supporters are raising Trump's associations with Jeffrey Epstein — again.

Recently-released docs in the Epstein investigation make no mention of Trump.

Democrats have tried deflecting concerns about Biden's age by bringing up Trump's past.

Some Joe Biden supporters are employing a tried-and-true strategy to fend off rampant debate over the President's age and mental acuity: deflection.

On social media — and even in the halls of Congress — certain Biden supporters are using Donald Trump's associations with disgraced financier Jeffrey Epstein as an argument to disqualify him.

Discourse about Trump and Epstein was reignited after documents from Epstein's first Florida investigation in 2006 were released last week.

But the 158-page document — a grand jury transcript showing prosecutors heard testimony that Epstein raped girls as young as 14, then still cut him a sweetheart plea deal — makes no mention of Trump himself.

Still, some seized the news cycle as a way to counteract doubts about Biden's own fitness to run for office in 2024.

Why no one's writing about Trump and Epstein

During a press conference on Tuesday, Rep. Ted Lieu of California urged more media coverage of the "Epstein files," adding that a "highly disturbing" hashtag about Trump and Epstein was trending on X.

Trump had previously been photographed with Epstein, Lieu said, had flown with him on planes with young girls on board, and the two were listed on call logs together.

"It shows that Donald Trump is unfit for office," the congressman said, adding Trump was also convicted of sexual abuse in civil court.

Ben Meiselas, the cofounder of liberal news network Meidas Touch, also posted on X about "the release of new Epstein files with Trump's name on it." Other Biden boosters have suggested a coordinated media cover-up to boost Trump's chances or doom Biden's.

But Trump isn't named in the latest records, a fact reiterated on X by Julie Brown, the Miami Herald investigative journalist who helped break the Epstein story.

Media outlets haven't reported on Trump's connection to the new Epstein files because there isn't one.

What we know about Trump's relationship with Epstein

Trump has appeared in previous unsealed and uncovered documents connected to the Epstein case.

Trump was also connected to 14 different numbers in Epstein's little black book of contacts that surfaced before the financier's arrest on sex trafficking charges in 2019. Among the contacts were Trump's wife, Melania; ex-wife, Ivana; and daughter, Ivanka.

The contact book also included the names of high-profile celebrities like Courtney Love, Alec Baldwin, and Naomi Campbell, as well as politicians and dignitaries like John Kerry, Michael Bloomberg, Henry Kissinger, and Prince Andrew.

Unsealed flight logs in 2019 revealed Trump took a flight on Epstein's private jet in 2017; billionaire couple Glenn and Eva Dubin joined him on the flight from Palm Beach to Newark.

And in January, a Business Insider analysis of then-unsealed court records determined Trump appeared in the documents multiple times under the moniker "Doe 174."

However, the mentions in those documents weren't all damning for the former President, BI's Jacob Shamsian reported at the time.

In one instance, a woman denied in a deposition that she'd massaged Trump. In another, a woman claimed — then recanted — that her friend had had sex with him. And Virginia Roberts Giuffre, one of the key accusers of sexual abuse by Epstein and his associates, said in one document that she didn't think Trump was involved.

Trump had previously faced allegations by an anonymous woman that claimed he had violently raped her at an orgy when she was 13 years old. The woman — who went by the pseudonym "Katie Johnson" — even filed a lawsuit against Trump, twice.

The first was a civil rights suit in April 2016 that was thrown out on a technicality. Vox noted that the original suit listed the woman's apparent address as an abandoned home.

She filed a second lawsuit that removed some of the lurid details. Still, the case was connected to strange characters, including a Jerry Springer producer who tried to sell a video of the purported accuser to news outlets for $1 million and an anti-Trump activist who promoted the lawsuit — and had a history of spreading untrue gossip.

The woman abruptly dropped the lawsuit in November 2016, just days before the election that Donald Trump would win. Her lawyer didn't share a reason for why the lawsuit was dropped at the time.

Trump had publicly praised Epstein before his sexual abuse allegations came to light. He called Epstein a "terrific guy" in 2002, adding, "It is even said that he likes beautiful women as much as I do, and many of them are on the younger side."

But the Washington Post reported the two men had a falling out in 2004 after they both wanted to buy a prime Palm Beach property.

After Epstein's arrest, Trump told reporters, "I was not a fan of his, that I can tell you." Trump has also said he barred Epstein from Mar-A-Lago.

Four Pinocchios from WaPo for congressman Lieu's claims about Trump in the epstein files, that's gotta hurt both wapo and lieu

Guy must think everyone else is a idiot and will take him at his word instead of actually looking,

[amarayys]

EPISODE 13 CHP 2 DRDT SPOILERS.

so. WHAT THE FUCK. Levi has basically no empathy confirmed. He wants to be liked but he doesn't understand what caring about others is like. Ace tells levi to die. Lmao. Also he's so suspicious +He mentions the only person who he ever trusted. WHO NOW??? Eden and Arei doomed yuri. We get Arei and David flashback. Arei's cg looks like sora from sdra2s final cg btw thats just a random thought i had. Arei you can't do this to me. She really said "I'm a piece of shit but so is David so let's fix eachother" AUHSVGDHBJFKL Okay. EDEN. WHAT THE FUCK. EDEN. NOBODY SAW THIS COMING. I WAS SO CONVINCED IT WAS TERUKO BUT IG NOT??? Eden took Xander's eye out. So. Eden's probably a traitor, though it's probably not voluntary - we see her crying as she holds the bloody fork. I'm sorry, but with this, I think Eden culprit and Levi accomplice theory is over. I just don't think it works. Also how in the fuck does Arei know about that. my girl eden getting character development real david lying cause he thinks hes tough shit teruko DEFENDING LEVI??? YALL???? SHES PROJECTING HOW SHE FELT IN CHP 1 ONTO LEVI AND DEFENDING HIM I HATE HER /pos DAVID SNEEZING SPRITE LMAO. okay so all secrets are revealed. Teruko is either lying or mistaken about her secret, cause the look David gives her after it CANNOT be innocent. this does tell us something though - the family one applies to teruko, if shes not lying on purpose. but...what??? Who does family refer to? It cant be her parents, she never knew them. And she barely remembers her brother. Maybe it's the others at the orphanage, or her friends? Also, she feels survivors guilt apparently and wished she died with whoever family is. Somebody give my girl Teruko a break. EVERYONE SMOKES TERUKO FOR NOT KNOWING WTF THE SPINNY THING IS. Fandom cheers as Teruko finally stops getting interrupted and explains the murder method. WHIT AS A DOG HAD ME CACKLING I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING. We see that Teruko's drawing isn't much better than her handwriting (which we get more samples of btw!!!!!!!) Nico's gonna have to explain the murder... maybe the theory that Nico was framed by / helped someone is true, but idk. Teruko's interrogating the shit out of them. So. Culprit? I think realistically, the best options for the culprit are Ace, Rose, and Whit. Maybe Hu, Veronika or Nico if you squint REALLY hard but I doubt it. I think Ace is SUPER suspicious, half because vibes and half because david calling his ass out here

Rose definetly has potential to be the culprit, but idk. im tired leave me alone. WHIT. EVERY SINGLE FUCKING THING YOUVE SAID THIS TRIAL IS SO SUSPICIOUS. YOUVE BEEN THROWING BLAME ONTO LEVI CONSTANTLY. U KNOW ABOUT HANGING SPECIFICS FOR SOME REASON. UR SO SUSPICIOUS UR NOT SUSPICOUS ok thats it unrelated to this post, i made a doc of my live reactions to stuff and here are some things i wrote that i thought were funny

I am tired but this episode was SO good. I'll probably make a more in dept theory/post on it tmr lmao its 1:36 am.

[docholligay]

Doc hi. I know I don’t really participate that much when you do liveblogs and everything, but, with everything that’s happening and most likely going to happen, I wanted to say that I learned from you “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.” I know you didn’t invent that, but I learned of it from you and I think about it a lot. So, thank you.

Good! Thank you!

Basically this is just what I want everyone to take home as a lesson. You do not have to save the world. I would argue you cannot. But you have to try. You have to save A world, you know?

I do the things I do not because I believe I can change the world. I do it so the world does not change me. I do it because I cannot live with myself if I do anything less. I do it so when i die, someone could truly say of me, "She tried. She always tried." That's all I want. Is to be known as a person who tries.

That's all we can do. I know everything is really scary right now. I'm scared too, if we're all being honest. But, I can't give up. We can't give up. Despair is consent, and I won't do it. Every small fight we are willing to take up is an immense act of love for our fellow man. If everyone fought one small fight, where would we be?

It can start with deciding to call your congressman, or volunteering to pack boxes at a food bank, or run a packet pickup for a charity race. These are small things that can have an immense impact. I worked packet pickup for the turkey run. It raised $45,000 dollars for food charities. I yelled at my rep about KOSA (I really should publish my "script for KOSA when your rep is a republican" because this is my gift) and who knows what will come of that, but I tried. I helped with food boxes for Family Service for thanksgiving, and a bunch of families got a full turkey dinner. You can't tell me none of it mattered, just because the world is the way it is.

You don't have to win. You don't have to see the promised land. But we have to fight, and we have to walk. You cannot build a home for yourself without callousing your hands, you know? And maybe worse, but I believe it's worth it. I believe a better world is possible. I believe that, even if a better world isn't possible, there is power and nobility in trying. It matters.

You get knocked down. You stand up. You keep going. You go as far as you can. That's everything. I've been happier failing to be good, than succeeding at a life of ease. I'm the one who has to live with me. I know what's true. And what's true, is that we cannot desist from the work.

[marksbear]

police consultant reader who constantly flirts w spencer reid? things like "the perp must be taking them out to dinner, which i am also going to do if the nerd doesn't stop being cute" and "the doctor stole my heart, arrest the thief!"

just pure fluff with a charming reader —⚰️

It's short BUT not too short y'know. And I made sure this is all pure fluff my love! ⚰ and thanks for requesting!

SPENCER REID X CHARMING POLICEMAN READER

"When are these guys about to arrive?" Morgan says impatiently crossing his arms and taps his foot growing tired of all the waiting.

"Be patient Morgan. These guys are flying all the way here from Georgia just to help us in this case." Hotch says looking over the case once more trying to figure anything out.

The BAU hasn't made any progress trying to figure out who the unsub is and why they're doing this. So Rossi made a few calls and punched a favor in from Georgia's own BAU unit to come help them out with the case.

"How did you even convince them to come out all the way here?" Reid asks looking up from the folders to Rossi. "Well the team leader over there owes me a big favor from a few years back, so why not use it now." Rossi answers with a smirk.

Before Reid could ask another question the room door opens wide as a group of people walk inside. "Agent Rossi?" An older man's voice rings out looking around the room for his old friend. Rossi stands out his chair and welcomes the older man with a small hug.

"Xavier, hello my friend how are you?"

"Good Dave. Boy how I missed you! Please tell me, what has been going on with you?"

Before Rossi could respond back an unknown and younger voice cuts him off. "Great, theres nothing worse than two old men catching up." Earning a few laughs from the group of agents. Xavier rolls his eyes at the younger male before introducing everyone to his team.

"And this is special agent---" "Y/n L/n. And you are? Let me guess. Agent cutie?" Y/n cuts off his boss again looking at Reid with a smirk. Morgan and Penelope giggle among each other looking at the flustered doctor.

"U-uhm... Doctor Spencer Reid." Spencer says with a stutter making him even more embarrassed than before.

"You know doc, I think I maybe have hurt myself on the plane while getting here. Like my whole head and especially lips hurt, but~ theres nothing a little kiss can't fix, isn't that right doc?" Y/n says with a wink and taps his lips. Y/n stalks up closer to Spencer and leans down by him, so he can get a better look. "I bet---" Before Y/n could flirt with Reid more he was pulled away from one of his workers.

"That's enough L/n. You're acting like a predator with its prey." The worker Anne says pulling her friend away. "If that's true he must be the beautiful rabbit and i'm the---" Anne covers Y/n's mouth with her hand shutting him up.

Xavier laughs out and says "Sorry about that. Thats Y/n just being Y/n. Now lets get down to business shall we?"

Both BAU teams work with each other. They imagine the unsubs profile and picture them having a reason why and how the unsub is doing this. But why all have to figure out where the unsub picking up/ taking the women.

"The perp must be taking them out to dinner, which i am also going to do if the nerd doesn't stop being so damn cute."Y/n flirts giving Spencer a wink as well. Anne groans and rolls her eyes. "What? That wasn't good? Cmon y'all know that was good." Y/n says with a laugh.

"Y/n is right. The unsub must be inviting them to dinner or a bar since every victim dressed like they were going somewhere fancy something with romantic intentions." Reid adds also trying to ignore Y/n's last comment, but fails from the obvious blush on his face.

"The case also lists that the victims were already dating someone. So it's most likely the unsub is going for cheaters or something of that sort." Hotch also adds in. Everyone in the room begins to list theories and possible reasons as to why the unsub is doing this. Y/n whispers into his co-workers ears while eyeing Spencer no doubt giving him signals that he's talking about him.

"Guys... After this case is done I have another case involving me. the doctor stole my heart, arrest the thief! And have him sentenced to life with me~" Y/n says causing both teams to aww and tease Spencer. "Awww~ Spence got himself a boyfriend!~" Derek teases causing Penelope to giggle and join in. "Y/n and Spencer kissing in a tree--" Before Penelope could finish Spencer covers his face in embarrassment causing everyone to laugh and giggle.

"You two just get a room already." Hotch adds in with the jokes causing everyone to pitch in their own joke to make the doctor even more embarrassed. "When is the wedding? And where are my grandchildren?" Rossi says with a laugh.

"I'm already planning to get on one knee." Y/n says causing everyone to laugh and giggle.

"Alright alright. Everyone gets back on track, then we can plan me and Spencer's future together. Like how much kids were having, who's moving in with who. When can I kiss him. And so on and so on. I don't my future husband to die from being so cute~ and from blushing." Y/n says wrapping his arm around Spencer's shoulder.

THE END

[rolfedewolfes-uglytoes]

WARNING: HORRIBLE STUFF WILL BE MENTIONED IN HERE

if you are under 18 then I recommend you probably shouldn't look at this post

I'm making this post because I don't want to interact with this person AT ALL and I'm showing you WHY.

(I'm saying sorry here because I genuinely have a hard time making long posts. If I sound weird or I don't make any sense just dm me or comment.)

TO THE PERSON I'M TALKING ABOUT: I don't care if you see this or not. Just don't interact with me.

This will have nsfw art of Mitzi and Beach Bear so yea...

WARNING: I AM SHOWING PICTURES AS PROOF

I don't know if people have made a post like this but I remembered those posts a while ago about how we shouldn't idolize creeps in the fandom just because they have a big collection or they're popular.

I didn't want to put this on my main because I didn't want one of my muts to be triggered by this post.

.

.

.

I don't know how to start this so I'm just going to jump right into it. (WARNING I suck at spelling so there will probably be tons of errors)

Back when I was 17, me and this other person (who was also 17 who I don't wanna mention for privacy) had a conversation about weird people in the RAE fandom on discord. We talked about how there were so many creeps in the community and they brought up CavitySam. (CS) Then they basically showed me what I'm gonna show you. I've only thought about making a post like this today because I've just been thinking about it a lot. So I went on a search for that disgusting picture (it wasn't hard to find) I was 17 when I found out about all of this stuff so I didn't think it was a good idea to say anything. Now I'm 18 so I feel like I should say something.

(I believe CS goes by she/Her because I've seen people refer to her as such so that's what I'm gonna use.)

SO NOW I'M GOING TO SHOW YOU WHAT I'VE FOUND

I was shown this picture of Beach Bear and Mitzi... and as you can see the artstyle of the nsfw art matches with CavitySam's artstyle.

Here is massive evidence: on the page on the nsfw website there was nsfw of Kedamono that was basically an nsfw version of CS's sfw art of him.

It wasn't some horrible edit. The lewd part matched right with the other line art perfectly like it had always been there.

I do have a Google doc I can link to anyone who wants to see the half censored Pic of Kedamono, Mitzi, and Beach Bear for more proof.

I not trying to say that CS is a full blown ped0 (bc I can't say if that's true or not. I know people have said on other platforms that she is but i can't say for certain) but SHE STILL MADE FULL BLOWN NSFW ART OF BEACH BEAR AND MITZI. THAT'S DISGUSTING. I know a lot of people in the rae community on here. I know that you guys don't support this disgusting stuff.

If you wanna defend CS idc. There's no way that this isn't her art. They look so similar. I would be absolutely shocked if it wasn't. And in all honesty I don't want it to be. I really wish people wouldn't make nasty stuff with Mitzi in it. I believe CS made art for Aaron at one point and knowing that just makes me feel nasty.

I don't really know how to end this.

I'm sorry for such a serious post but I feel like it's unfair to people who don't know.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

A Tale of Love, Death and Maggots, part 16-G

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15

I paused, thinking about it. “Sure, why the hell not? I'll bite. What's the plan, Mrin?”

It made her break into a proper smile. This time I could see the cracks in it, where something that horrible and despairing lurked. “Are you alright, Mrin? You look… troubled, my love.” The last word lingered on my tongue. It tasted like the fields in summer.

“It's nothing, Doc. Nothing at all.” Mrin turned away, but I caught the flash of grief. Stronger, it was. Starker against the warmth in my chest.

“No, it's not nothing. Don't brush me off, Mrin. Not after everything we've done,” I said, grabbing her arm and pressing it to my chest. “I swear, Mrin, I'm done trying to accept my fate. I'm done trying to make my own heart freeze over. I'm done refusing to admit that I don't care about you, or Athena, or Brett.” 

I don't know when I decided that. To be honest, I hadn't quite realised it until the words flew out of my mouth. I suppose it must have been when Mrin burst into tears that night. It always did come back to her, after all. Her and that piercing gaze of hers. It revealed things I didn't know about myself.

But it was true. I was done, once and for all, of letting harm coming to the ones I loved. It was time for me to step up and be a man for once. I pressed her calloused hand to my chest. “Come on, Mrin. Tell me what's wrong. Let's face it together, no matter how horrible. Isn't that what partners are for?”

She looked down, avoiding my gaze. “I've come to a conclusion of my own, Doc. I think- I think it's time I stopped trying to make the impossible happen. I've been stuck here for what, a decade? And no matter how hard I've tried, I can't find a way to escape this place. I…”

“I don't think there is one.”

The admission made her voice crack, and she yanked her hand from my chest as though I'd stabbed her. “Fuck, that hurts to say aloud. But it's the truth, isn't it? There's just no way out. We're stuck here. Doomed.”

It was the opposite of my decision. “Mrin…”

“No! It's pointless, don't you get it?! It's so… so accursedly unfair of you to say something like ‘I love you', right when I've made my choice! I admired you, Doc. I admired how stoic you were. I tried so, so fucking hard to stay calm in the face of everything. I tried so hard not to care. I tried to be like you, and just as I succeed, you do this?!”

She shook, though with rage or grief, I could not tell. “You stupid bastard. You and Athena and Brett, you've all left me no choice.”

“I've got to save you all. Even if it means killing myself.”

“Mrin, what the hell are you talking about?” I tried to reach out again, and she gave me an infuriated look. 

“Run the numbers, Doc. I'm never going to be happy here. I don't want to spend my life chasing something that will never come to pass. It's all so pointless. Pointless, I tell you.”

“You're repeating yourself again, Mrin.” Even as I said it, I knew it was useless. We really were doomed to repeat our mistakes. This conversation had been the lead-up to Athena's death, and it was gonna be the lead-up to Mrin's too. I felt that mantle of despair settle about my shoulders, unavoidable as ever. 

Yet I had to try anyways, didn't I? Wasn't that what I'd told her just now? Damn, this trying thing was hard. It was hard to get arms to move when they'd stayed still for so long, hard to get the ball rolling when it'd been gathering moss for forever, hard to try when it was so much easier to just not. But I had to. For Athena, who I hadn't reached out to in time. For Brett, who I could have saved if I'd been less of a fool. 

For Mrin, who I still had. Who I would lose. Who I couldn't lose, not when we'd admitted the truth to each other.

“It's not pointless, Mrin. You're a fool if you believe that.”

(Character development!!!)

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[directdogman]

Hello I have some questions about timelines and history

Did the Vietnam war also occur in Dialtown after the Korean war? JFK is mentioned in the matchmaker game but Callum was the 35th president? When was he the president? Is the little voice acted bit of Norm reacting to 9/11 canon?

Funnily enough, i've gotten this question before.

1)Vietnam still happened, albeit slightly later. Basically, global politics was very different for the 4 years Crown was in office, so the 20th century political story we all know basically got put on hold for 4 years.

2)Okay, this is history stuff so I'll preface this by pointing out that none of this is really essential to enjoying Dialtown. That being said:

Crown was elected president in 1960 and served 'til early 1965, which was JFK's inauguration. He served during JFK/Lyndon Johnson's first term in our timeline. JFK was elected next election (1964) and the next few elections after that were basically just the same as ours, but with everything shifted 4 years later due to that 4 year cultural desync caused by Crown's political upset... That is, until the timeline catches back up again during Nixon, with Watergate happening way earlier and thus, resyncing the timeline!

I have a really long ass lore doc about Crown that actually explains the exact situation that arose in 1960. To sum it up briefly, Crown ended up creating enough of a split in the electorate that Kennedy realized his chances of winning were dire, if the two ran at once, as Crown had a clear lead in several key midwestern states Kennedy needed to win. It's true that if the race was close enough, the House could've picked the president (and would've picked Kennedy, no doubt), but Kennedy's people didn't wanna risk it for a multitude of political reasons I won't go into for the sake of brevity. Then, Crown's offer came in: 'I'll only be serving one term, and when I'm out, she's all yours, Kennedy."

So, Kennedy conceded to Crown, bowing out and vowing to run next time instead, with Crown agreeing to endorse him at the end of his term, should Kennedy want it (which he did, of course!) BC JFK was a senator and Nixon was the sitting VP, Kennedy realized he could run as a sitting senator again, while Nixon would have to either run as a *former* VP (and thus, a weaker candidate) or run another race to serve in Congress or as Governor of CA (which would require him to unseat Pat Brown, something that Nixon tried to do in OUR timeline and lost 2 year after the election!) Nixon Vs Kennedy (1964) was, as a result, a far less close election in DT's timeline than in ours, largely thanks to Crown.

This is why JFK was prezzy during the Dialup about 2 years after Crown's term ended!

3)no, that isn't canon. could be, though.

[cowboywritersworld]

May I request a Kyle Fletcher x Reader?

When Kyle attacks Will and costs him his Championship, Reader is shocked. She had thought the two were always close together. She being a wrestler as well, she goes out to check on Will - whom she is a close friend with - leading to an argument backstage between her and Kyle with no cameras around.

This can't be true

General Masterlist | AEW Masterlist | Kyle Fletcher Masterlist

Characters: Kyle Fletcher, Reader, Will Ospreay

Prompt: When Kyle attacks Will and costs him his Championship, Reader is shocked. She had thought the two were always close together. She being a wrestler as well, she goes out to check on Will - whom she is a close friend with - leading to an argument backstage between her and Kyle with no cameras around.

You are watching the triple threat match for the Intercontinental Championship while you are stretching your back. Your match still has to come and you surely can't miss that important match.

It is very good, all three of them are just so good in the ring, but you raise an eyebrow, when someone slides in the ring.

That figure is well known to you, you would recognize Kyle's body anywhere, even between thousand people. His features are unmistakable to you, even though the commentators seem to not understand who it is. You stand up and run to Gorilla, just as Kyle prepares Will for the Tiger Driver 91, gasping loudly when he drops Will on the mat. No, that can't be Kyle, not the Kyle you know.

Don Callis... God, that man will pay for that. You run out to the ring, Takeshita pinning a Will fully in pain. You are Kyle's girlfriend and Will's best friend ever since you all know each other, but you can't believe what you just saw. You slide into the ring, carefully going over to Will, not caring about the others in the ring, especially not Kyle.

"Will, are you okay?" Of course he isn't, Kyle has dropped him so bad on his head...

"Y/N, you shouldn't be here! It's dangerous!" Will smiles though, accepting your help.

"What are you doing here?" Kyle bends towards you, hissing those words.

"I am caring about one of my best friends, you know! Especially after a traitor just dropped him on his head!"

You stand up and push him away, anger and hurt in your eyes. You look yourself around and the crowd seems to believe that your presence is part of the segment, even though it isn't, but thankfully everyone in the ring is playing along as well. You all are professional wrestler and can adapt to changes without problems.

Deep inside you know that you'll have to give Tony Khan some explanations, but it's your last thought at that moment. While The Family stands tall in the ring, you go backstage supporting Will, sighing.

"You shouldn't have done that, Y/N." Will tells you once you are alone, no cameras around.

"I was scared for you. It went well and the crowd was sold on that, so it was still a success." You smile at him. "Let's get you to doc. Sampson though. I am really worried about you."

Will chuckles. "You always care so much about me, Y/N." He lets you help him get to Medical, walking slowly.

"I always did and always will. You can always count on me, Will, like you always could up until now." When you get to the room, you help him on one of the beds. "Take care and let me know what Sampson says... I..." You sigh, looking down at your feet. "I need to go and talk with Kyle."

You walk out after waving at Will, wandering the halls of the Arena, trying to find your boyfriend. You hate what he has done, no matter if it was keyfabe or not. You hope to find him alone, because you are just inches away from killing Don Callis. It feels like ages before you can finally hear him talking to someone, not too far away from where you are. You are not surprised in the slightest when you see Don Callis and Takeshita there as well. To your happiness, they leave you and your boyfriend alone, when you stop in front of him.

"We are alone, no cameras around. Care to explain me what the bloody hell got through your mind?" You cross your arms at your chest, just so disappointed at the whole situation.

"I..." Kyle looks at you, but he seems hurt by your behavior, when - in fact - it is all his fault. "It is complicated to explain, you wouldn't understand."

"What should I understand?" You ask, slightly raising your voice. "You dropped him, your brother, your best friend, on his fucking head, Kyle!" You close your hands to fists. "You could seriously hurt him, maybe even paralize him. I don't recognize you anymore." You shake your head, definitely not happy.

"Why do you even care so much about him? Is there something I need to know about?" Now he is the person who crosses his arm to his chest.

"You already know we are b-" You try to interrupt him, but are shocked by what he is trying to imply. "Is that idiot trying to put you against me in real life too? There is NOTHING more than friendship between me and Will, you know that very well." You are pissed off, even just because you have to remark that, fully convinced he is questioning it only because of Don Callis. "That's it, I don't need to give you any more explanations. I want answers in the next days, I'm going at the hotel."

You need fresh air, you need to calm down and don't really want to go on arguing with him right now.

[magentagalaxies]

"tour of duty" (the filmed version of their 2002 tour) in general is just kind of a bizarre point for kids in the hall that i haven't really talked to any of them about but is hard not to notice when you look at their entire canon. like it's certainly good - there are some tour-original sketches that i highly enjoy and some live versions of filmed sketches that take a fun creative spin on it, but in general things just feel noticeably strange.

buddy cole specifically tells the fur trappers to "fuck off" (buddy very rarely swears and across all the buddy material i've watched for the documentary he's only said "fuck" 3 times across forty years). danny husk wins an award for being a high school vice principal and at&love isn't acknowledged in the bit. the "is he?" sketch has been revised to pack in as many euphemisms for gay as possible, putting the bit on top of another bit. and of course i have my chicken lady thoughts but i don't want to bias anyone else bc i genuinely want to know what your takes are before i share mine.

and again these aren't all bad choices - i think the danny husk vice principal monologue works really well and may not work as well as a different character despite contradicting the Husk Lore™️. but they're all very distinctive choices

idk there's two reasons i personally give for why tour of duty is so strange (to me at least, maybe other people don't notice). the first is that it comes less than 3 years after their other tour-film, the 1999/2000 tour "same guys new dresses" (also available on youtube!) i fucking love SGND and i'll be up front that it's my preferred kith tour video. but part of what makes SGND so special is that it's not just a recording of the live show, it's a full tour documentary following the guys traveling across the country performing together, occasionally showing full sketches but also delving into the stories behind why the sketches played out the way they did. and, sure, sometimes that means cutting out a sketch that i wish i could've seen in full (rip power of the suburbs) but my life is so much better for having seen the "laser eye surgery gossip" or knowing how much drama that goddamn robot-dog-prop caused.

so to then see tour of duty as a straight-up recording of the live show leaves that element of mystery, that we don't get to know why choices were made because we only see the end result. there was a conscious decision not to shoot tour of duty like SGND - the tour doc didn't do well financially, and they also had more of a reason to document that tour since it was their first time working together since the disastrous fallout of "brain candy," and first big national tour since the show ended. the circumstances were just very different

and that's true both personally and politically bc the second suspected reason for tour of duty's weird tone is you can obviously tell 9/11 just happened. two sketches directly reference it - bruce and mark's businessman characters sell scam patriotic products that are all just a rubber band, and buddy cole visits the middle east and ends up having sex with saddam hussein (tho fun fact this concept was written BEFORE 9/11). but the event casts an obvious shadow, especially since both the buddy cole bit and the danny husk monologue were recycled pieces from scott's cancelled one-man-show which was set to debut in new york city on september 19th 2001.

it's also interesting comparing this to SGND. the late 90s are often remembered through rose-tinted glasses due to a generally good economy in the united states and a lot of the social tensions with disenfranchised groups still bubbling under the surface rather than being talked about openly. SGND doesn't reference contemporary events much, but the closure of AT&Love from the KITH finale is undone since the economy has re-entered "rock-on fashion," and buddy cole comments on the Y2K computer bug being underwhelming. (i also went on a super long tangent on how the original show reflected the socioeconomic climate of the 90s but that's a whole other topic i need to go to bed)

i don't know how the KITH feel about "tour of duty." i can't know how much this strangeness was felt for them backstage, and i think in some regards it can only be picked up on as an outsider, albeit an outsider who has watched so much KITH content to know how their work evolved even when not on television. all in all, i'm glad "tour of duty" exists and even the swings that didn't really land for me are still admirable as creative choices.

it's also cool to analyze as someone who has now been to a KITH live show over 2 decades later and got to see those behind-the-scenes conversations play out. the bellini benefit also featured a lot of strangeness, caused by a limited rehearsal schedule and one of the cast members being unable to attend due to illness, but they absolutely exceeded these limitations to put on a very fun show. we did film the performance and rehearsals and that show is going to be released eventually (i'm not in charge of it but the person who is also works on the buddy cole doc so i'm involved). i don't know if it's going to be presented more like SGND or tour of duty or something completely different, but it'll be cool to be part of KITH live show canon

[sorbeau]

hi its me again i feel legally obligated to ask about your thoughts on the new riz design (but also extends to al of the other new art for the bad kids too!!!)

HI SHOKO sorry this took so long to asnwer, it feels a little late to the party now but I have lots of thoughts and this has been in my drafts for a hot minute so I'll break my thoughts down in order <3

Fig

GOD DO I LOVE FIG'S DESIGN. It hasn't changed too drastically in many ways, it's largely the same beats with the plaid skirt, leather jacket, biker gloves, and docs, but there's a lot more detail pertaining to her character now. Ayda's feather earring is abviously a huge win, everyone loves to see it, but I love the small details like the added wallet chain on her skirt, the added ear piercings, and her painted nails. If I had to choose something I didn't like, it'd be the color of her shoelaces, which isn't a huge deal bc you know spyre might have different cultural beats, but it's very reminiscent of punk doc lace codes, which were a way to sort of factionize yourself among punks. Fig wears one purple and one red, and traditionally purple means gay pride(which is great and i would've picked it for her too) but red usually means you allign yourself with neo-nazi's and similar groups which. is definitely Not Fig. It's not a HUGE deal but, maybe some more research could've been put into it.

Gorgug

Gorgug's new design is so. Perfect. Amazing. Spectacular. No notes. It's exactly the changes I wanted to see. The goggles, the dirt-covered face, the ripped jeans, the bags and tools, the gloves, the most disgusting worn pair of convers you've ever seen. It's absolutely amazing and the artist has managed to bring all the beats we loved about his original design(his extremely fashionable purple pants) and mixes them perfectly with all of the new facets of Gorgug's personality that have changed and grown theough their adventures. A little detail I love is how the color of his headphones has changed to match with the rest of his outfit better, creating a more cohesive design with the introduction of more red/maroon tones. This was always a little bit of an issue with the old design for me. The colors sort of didn't go together.

Kristen

She's going through a break up. She's at the most chaotic she's ever been and she's trying to fix it. It is so genius to make her jacked. The bright yellow tracksuit is beautiful and exactly something Kristen would buy and wear every day. Plus the tiedye purple sports bra tying in her old church camp shirt aesthetic is brilliant. I'm mourning the loss of her sandals, but the matching shoes to her tracksuit can't be complained about. Not a whole lot to say, I'm excited about how this design will change and reflect her growth this season! Praise Saint Kristen Applebees!!

Adaine

THE ELVEN ORACLE IS COOL NOW!!! I love her jacket, all the patches and the toned down fur lining is absolutely perfect. I also love the cool strapped bags on her hips and legs, it's just a really cool adventurer addition cementing her as a bad ass practical caster. Her entire face seems more assured and relaxed, which is absolutely amazing for her and reflects how her resting state is no longer as addled with panic and anxiety as it used to be. Her hair also seems a lot more her! Not sure how to describe it, but it seems like she's focusing less on keeping herself perfect, and more on just keeping herself, herself! Not very big design swings or changes, but she doesn't need to change, she just needs to be true to herself. (Also. a huge fan of her cool magic circle shirt.) My only gripe. Give her blue hair. And pronouns. And glasses pretty please.

Fabian

That boy is the future of dance!!!!!!!!!! I love the color palette shift for his design, it's a really great way to show how he's grown out of Bill's shadow and embraced his own passions with the grey tones with red and gold accents. Also a huge fan of the fancy robed pants, tons of great movement lines and something a dancer would totally wear. On the same note however, I feel like it doesn't really go with the rest of his outfit. I love how the changes made are geared towards movement and dance(his shoes changing from sneakers to dance shoes is great) but I feel like the changes are all sort of mismatched? The dance shoes look a lot like tap shoes, but the pants look more big and flowy, better for a more leaping and running style of dance, and his jacket has almost nothing to do with dance. It's delightfully artsy and detailed, which is so chic and Fabian, but the shapes of it don't really match up, and especially without a clear view of the front it makes him look like he's wearing half of a matador outfit. I would've loved to see a more dramatic silhouette without the use of the battle sheet(which is absolutely perfect, no notes) with either lots of flowy parts for movement, or a sharp jacket with skinnier pants for that exaggerated silhouette. Again, I think this is really all due to a lack of research, but the spirit of Fabian is still in the room with us. The colors are great, the bandages on his hands are perfect, and the fanciful element is very on point, just needs some better shape language and cohesiveness.

Riz

There he goes, he's gone from gritty detective to gadget-heavy superspy. I LOVE the character choices that Murph made for Riz, he's become even more of a loser and seems a lot less hard and fast, and more generally passionate. In freshman and sophomore year, he was entirely goal oriented, completely focused on completing his mission and solving the mystery, this time around he's still got a mission, but because he can't do it all himself, he's sort of given the opportunity to branch out and explore himself. This is all to say, i love the insufferable loser hipster kid that he's become. He is truly the trinket goblin of all time, I love all his wild little gadgets and jewelry, and all the extra arcano-tech screens on his glasses are brilliant. I'm also a huge fan of his torso gun-holdster, which is a beautiful homage to his detective nature. The undercut is also obviously perfection. The loser teen-boy urge to cut away your beautiful hair for a nerdy undercut is so painfully lore accurate that it's one of my favorite details. It's probably because he's a dork. but I would love to know why he has rolled up pants and no socks. What is that. Why would he do that. ALSO STOP BEING A COWARD D20. GIVE HIM DIGITIGRADE LEGS AND A TAIL. CAT GOBLIN TRUTHERS UNITE!!!!!!!!!!

anyways that's probably the end of my rant for now. I love the bad kids and overall their designs are great. constantly wishing all of my headcannons were real but understanding that the cannon will never relent.