#I will talk about the blorbos and nobody can stop me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

olderthannetfic · 11 months ago

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Nearly 75% of fic on AO3 has less than 5 reader comments. Can we please acknowledge that lack of engagement in a positive fashion is the norm in fandom and that writers are expected to work for nothing in return yet readers are allowed to be entitled?

The source of my number

https://www.tumblr.com/transholmes/738776926733336576/and-even-those-numbers-on-the-lower-end-are

Hahahahaha.

Oh, anon.

Okay, first of all, I just posted a bunch of graphs showing exactly this, so not only am I well aware of it, but you also clearly don't read my tumblr much and are just here because some friend of yours is upset that I responded negatively to them about their dumb bookmarking opinions.

Second and more importantly...

No, no one is expected to do anything.

That's crazypants influencer talk where you think your hobbies are jobs that you have no choice about doing.

I suppose I do expect fans to have something at least marginally worthwhile to say—or else I'll block them for being whiny little bitches who make my day dumber as well as less amusing.

But mostly, what I expect is that people will do hobbies because they are fun. If I ever decide that writing fic is too boring, I will stop.

I write because it's fun.

I write original work for money too, and if you want to read that, you're going to have to pay Amazon your cold, hard cash. But I still do it because I enjoy the actual act of writing... at least a lot of the time.

What I see in the bookmark boo-hooing is a bunch of people who haven't noticed the last eighty thousand rounds of this same dumb wank and who not only expect to get the last word but expect that somehow I'm going to signal boost it on my tumblr as that... a tumblr known for contentious debates and nobody ever getting the last word till everyone's exhausted and never wants to hear about paper plates or beans again.

I also see that some of the thinnest-skinned people have fic patreons.

Now, I chose not to bring this up before because it sounds a bit below the belt in that "And thus you're morally impure and thus I can ignore your argument" way... But it's a consistent pattern in these conversations over time, and I do think it's relevant. The biggest sensitive babies are always the ones most afraid of bad reviews but also low engagement, and I think it's because they're caught in some half-pro, half-not limbo where they want the best of both worlds but keep getting the worst of both.

If you behave like a professional who is owed compensation, you can expect a more professional style of response to your work.

And what does the pro world look like? Radio silence. The occasional harsh review. Nobody caring why you wanted to write X or why you couldn't finish Y on time.

If you're here to socialize, you should look for a beta or a couple of good friends who like your blorbos and your style of fic, and then you can squee together about what you've written. It may not come in the form of visible AO3 comments. It may be in private chat.

In some cases, it may just be friends you can talk to about your writing but who aren't actually going to read it. I have plenty of friends who read different things than what I write.

That's what socializing and hobbies look like, dude.

It's fine to point out that many writers do get discouraged by low comment counts and then stop, so if I, as a reader in a fandom, want more, it behooves me to befriend writers and make them feel good.

But at the same time, writers get discouraged or move on to the next fandom all the time for all kinds of reasons. If the critical mass and the zeitgeist aren't there, then they aren't.

Do your hobbies for reasons internal to you.

If the main point is external validation, get into BDSM and find someone excited to indulge your praise kink. It will work a lot better than chasing fame via art.

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gremlinmodetweeker · 4 months ago

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omg i didn't expect a fic??? and it's so cute???? and getting to witness firsthand his social awkwardness complete with security being called....bby...

i could also see him texting you throughout the day if he does want to say something....or if he's having trouble sleeping he'll write you a little email, telling you his favorite part of the day, or something your rambling made him think of

i didn't mean omegaverse!konig (though he seems very omega to me???) i meant that one of the things i would talk to him about would be that omegaverse as we know it started in the Supernatural fandom. he's not going to tell me to stop talking!

you also posted something about him loving reading...so he's also going to get the Fifty Shades is Twilight Fanfiction speech.

now i'm thinking about him writing you or sending you stuff when he wants to get more physical in your relationship...he'll write about your blorbos cuddling before he works up the nerve to ask you for a snuggle. he's on deployment and he's writing you smut. write him some hurt/comfort with a blorbo that is clearly him and he's a goner

(no pressure to do anything with this! just wanted to share the brainworms and got a little rambly :)))

tw: some allusions to sexual content, NSFW MDNI 18+

Okay I’m finally getting to this, and I (mostly) agree! I have many thoughts on this. Like, wouldn’t he be the type to write little notes for you to find around the house? I totally think he would. He is absolutely that type. Like, imagine finding little sticky notes in your lunches and reading them at work? Finding little sheets tacked to a shelf telling you that he used up the last of the cereal so he’s gone to get more. Or or or imagine that he’s angry about something and he just texts you paragraphs going on about how his soldiers are idiots and nobody understands him and he wants to strangle someone but he can’t so he just stands there angrily and it scares everyone. He keeps texting you that everyone seems scared of him and he doesn’t know why so you have to tell him to take a deep breath and relax, and not five minutes later he texts you saying that things are better but he doesn’t know why people are nicer now. You still can’t really explain how scary he is, so you just have to play it off.

On another note, I see König as a total literature snob, so I think you’d unleash a monster if you talk to him about Twlight and 50 Shades. That’s the Pandora’s box of König. He doesn’t talk, but then that one thing comes up and he goes off. Like sure, he’s quiet, but he has these moments where he is the best conversation partner ever. He’ll talk as much as you let him, and he’ll listen to your every word. He is a very active participant in that conversation. He has many words about Stephanie Meyers, too. He is very passionate about the subject. Is it slightly incredible to see such a reserved man become so passionate about teen literature’s affects on how young men and women form relationships in adulthood? Yes absolutely. He also has very good points. It’s kinda wild until you realize that when he’s deployed, his ‘downtime’ (a laughable concept when deployed but we’ll work with it) he’s reading whatever he can get his hands on. He’s a reading monster. But also this makes him a snob so be weary of that.

Oh, and in terms of omegaverse, it would be so awkward to explain it at first. He just would not get it in the beginning. He would sit and watch you silently, squinting until he eventually wraps his head around it. After that he will very happily listen. Hell, if you need ideas and help for your fanfic, he’ll be right there as your editor. Like, he’ll be right there for you. All the time. Sometimes he’ll urge you to write more just so he can read more. He’s that interested. It’s nice, and also very helpful.

Discussions of smut under the cut

Finally, yes he would write smut. It’s so funny because when he writes, it’s passionate and intense. It’s all encompassing and overwhelming and they get you so excited for him to return only for him to be kinda… Soft. He’s not great at dirty talk. Really bad, actually. Like, he can talk a big game, but when it comes down to it? Not so great. He tries though. He’s getting better! But he keeps trying to wax poetic when you just want him to call you his little whore? Like, I don’t want to be compared to a mourning dove in may, I want to be called your cum slut, thank you. That’s how bad he is. But he is getting better. He’s so confused though. He doesn’t understand why you actually want him to call you that. Sure he can write those letters that get you all riled up, but in person? Wouldn’t you want him to be soft and sweet? No? Well, he can accommodate.

He’s a big sweety all in all. Like, he’s a military man. He’s not an uwu soft boy, but he knows how to write and he’s romantic in how he leaves little notes. He’s a stoic man who will nod along when you speak and give an occasional affirmative nod or polite question. When you get onto his topics of interest, he’ll be quite animated but still controlled, ever the good colonel. However, get him on the subject of Teen Lit and he turns into a monster because he thinks it’s damaging young readers. Not the porn part, but writing really bad love interests. He does have a point. Dark fiction is very important, but teaching young girls that Edward was the correct love interest was a mistake. And then it led to 50 Shades? Ugh it got even worse.

Anyways, thank you so much for the ask, and I hope you take care! Please remember my asks are always open!

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sonyshock · 3 months ago

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From the first mlp Anon:

I saw ya said it was for cons. Any tips for an artist wanting to get into a con? I wanna try to sell my stuff and maybe youd have some ideas or something?

My dear anon, let me tell you a story...

A long time ago it was that Spain started holding cons that had Artist Alleys. I got into multiple of them for free and with some priority. I absolutely loved the experience. The responsibility of talking to customers and selling gave me enough energy to be 2 days without eating and I was so happy. ... Then I moved to USA and I did not have the needed papers or geographic location to participate in any for... way too long. I only got to attend cons as a customer again in recent years. My plan is to try getting in artist alleys again starting next year.

I REALLY want to get into Artist Alleys again. It's been in my mind for so long, you have no idea. Please.

So... To my big shame and with a bit of grief: not much advice. It's also one of these things where I ask people for advice and I generally always get vague, if just a bit helpful, answers I'll still try to say something from my memories back in Spain:

Have bags and envelopes for people to carry their things, have things to write on, and plenty of business cards. Don't underestimate that!

Oh, and do NOT count on Wi-fi on a con, ever. Always save portfolio-worthy art offline, either printed or on your phone's gallery. You will talk about your art and you will want to show it.

For production, I use Vograce.

My tip for that: If you ask for 50 pieces of anything, you can make them as diverse as you want, and you can use it to print obscure characters, for example. Nothing is stopping you from purchasing 47 Sonic the hedgehogs and 3 [your very own personal blorbos nobody knows about] and it'll cost the same

#artist alleys #cons #text #ask #tiny bit of angst #im still not sure if I know all I need to get in an american artist alley but damn if I am going to learn...#I was invited to one but timing and place is too far... Although if it was not so close to my trip in Spain I would have considered it more

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stuffforthestash · 8 months ago

Text

Modern Academic AU pt3

All this because I couldn't stop thinking about what kinds of classes Professor Raphael would teach... He's laughing up at me from hell, I just know it.

part 1 and part 2

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Kagha (by request!) - Environmental Science. Will only teach courses about political lobbying and activism. She's also a militant vegan and active member of PETA, and won't shut up about it.

Dammon - College of Engineering. Teaches "Advanced Manufacturing Processes" and "Finite Element Analysis", and runs the machining shop. Also teaches a metal sculpture class when there's room in the Art School's budget. He's one of the faculty liaisons for several LGBTQA+ orgs on campus as well, and is completely oblivious to the fact he has a fan club (which is for the best, really)

Zevlor - Campus Security. A retired Green Beret who refuses to talk about his time in the service, he's well liked by most faculty and known to be a bit of an old school charmer. LOTS of rumors and speculation about what kind of injury got him discharged, and how he got it.

Barcus - College of Engineering. He teaches classes on Thermodynamics and Process Design & Safety. Has no idea how popular and well-liked he is by both students and staff.

Wulbren - Chemical Engineering Dep't Chair. He's brilliant, but also an asshole, and is constantly trying to weasel more grant money for his research into ethically questionable chemical compound modifications. Also makes his TAs teach all his classes for him.

Lorroakan - English Dep't Chair. Thinks he's hot shit for it but really no one else wanted the job. He makes his TAs teach all his classes AND do all his admin work, so he can spend all his time (and the department's money) on schmoozing with alumni and donors.

Blurg - Environmental Science. Isn't that great of a teacher but it's required for keeping the research grants coming in. Thankfully his passion and enthusiasm for topics like Sustainability in Agriculture make up for his shortcomings.

Omeluum - They're actually Bluurg's research partner and not technically a member of faculty, though they also act as his unofficial TA because otherwise Bluurg's course work interferes with their research timelines.

Nine-Fingers Keene (by request) - School of Business. Her classes are all advanced level and titled things like "Gaining The Competitive Edge". She also runs an entrepreneurial outreach program for young women seeking to start their own businesses.

Dame Aylin - VP of Diversity and Inclusion. She's very passionate about her job and a VERY vocal advocate for social justice issues like inclusivity, diversity, and accessibility. Completely incapable of keeping her personal life separate from her professional one, as she's a devout believer in leading by example.

Isobel - School RN. Is fiercely protective of students right to medical privacy and access to judgment free care, but is much better known on campus for being Dame Aylin's wife.

The Emperor - Board of Trustees. Outwardly just an ordinary Trustee, generally pleasant to interact with and actually rather good at rubbing elbows with students, faculty, and admin alike. There's just something off about them, enough that they've had multiple audits and inquests over the years despite nobody ever being able to find any actual signs of misconduct.

------------------------------

Sorry this set took a bit longer to figure out. A bunch of these characters were a real challenge to fit into roles that actually exist in reality, and I had to do a bit of research to find out wtf kinds of classes or departments certain fields of study even have. Ah, the things we do for the blorbos, amirite?

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 the emperor #bg3 isobel #dame aylin #nine fingers keene #omeluum #bg3 blurg #lorroakan #wulbren bongle #barcus wroot #zevlor #dammon #kagha

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just-antithings · 11 months ago

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I'm just really annoyed

If two characters are best friends I can't ship them because they don't have to be more than friend and I can't see the value in friendship and platonic relationships

If two characters are enemies I can't ship them because it's abusive and I shouldn't see abusive behavior as romantic

If both of them never met I shouldn't ship them because it doesn't make sense for them to fall in love

If they it's a gay ship I should value male friendships

If they it's a lesbian ship I'm fetishazing

If it's a straight ship I'm homophobic

If it's a biracial ship I'm racist

You can't win

Can antis just say they dislike shipping and stop interacting with fandom please ? It's ok fandom is not a moral duty you don't have to participate

Most people ship a ship because they like it not because some moral duty people didn't ship gay ships because they wanted represention (correct me if I'm wrong) they did because they liked the thought of these to specific characters together (again I may be wrong but I met alot of homophobic shippers who are 100% ok with taking the rights of queer people but are ok with shipping as long as it's fiction) the reason for being more x ship in fandom is not because people hate y ship it is because more people wrote about x ship nothing more fanfiction is not a corporation it's not about wich ship is more liked it's about how much people want to write (I'm side eyeing some gen fic lovers who love to pretend the world is an unpure place where people like *gasp* evil sex sex it normal coming from an asexual girl never touching that thing but it's normal)

If you dislike a trope or ship avoid if you want more content that you like make it a random fanfic writer doesn't owe you shit Antis !!!

And I'm also talking about the ones who complain about changing characters personalities and watering them down , nobody is forcing you to read fanfic if you think all the writers are doing a bad job at portraying (most fanfic writers are doing it for fun I'm not gonna make everything 100% accurate like it or not I'm coming home from a 9 to 5 I just want my blorbos to kiss in my coffee shop au I don't care for them to be an accurate representation of cannon) the characters and tropes then Don't read or write a fanfic with your superior portrayal of characters (but they won't all the rare pair fanfic writers ive met are sweet people and make themselves more content and not act like entitled Alogthrem babies)

Listen up fanfic writers if it isn't fun it isn't worth it that's the only rule of fanfiction out their other than that it's free game and for the love of god remember that your doing this shit for free so other people's opinions are not in any way important

👆👆👆👆

#mod erin #ask #just anti things #abuse mention

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sicknessbysalem · 5 months ago

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meet new blorbos from my offsite writing that i decided needed to Have A Moment(tm) {i would give him many}

tw emeto, fever, panic attack, religious trauma, mentions of conversion therapy

if you have any requests, comments, concerns, etc., send me an ask!!

The sun blazed mercilessly over the dirt track, transforming the once solid ground into a shimmering, heat-soaked track. It rained that morning, the track was still able to be raced on. But fuck, Maverick was sure the air was trying to kill him.

The air was thick and heavy, muggy and disgusting and hot, making every breath a struggle as the oppressive heat pressed down on everything. Maverick Sterling in particular.

Maverick sat on his motocross bike, his helmet resting precariously on the handlebars. His normally vibrant complexion was now pallid, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, leaning forward that he was practically laying his head on the handlebars, trying to control the nausea that churned in his stomach.

Walker crouched beside him, his eyes filled with concern.

“This heat’s not your friend is it…” Walker said softly.

Maverick shook his head. Heat always did this. Heat made him feel like shit. Heat made him have flare ups. And he just so happened to take part in one of the only outdoor sports that took place outdoors in the heat of summer.

The roar of engines and the buzz of the crowd seemed distant. Walker placed a steady hand on Maverick's back. Maverick was just trying to keep his lunch in his stomach a little bit longer.

“You hanging in there?” Walker asked. Sure, his sister was the nurse. But, he could help Maverick. At least for now.

Maverick nodded weakly, swallowing hard. "Yeah, just... the heat. It's really getting to me." He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the feeling of Walker's hand, grounding him.

Walker glanced around, ensuring no one else was paying too much attention. "Remember what Willow told you to do? Deep breaths. Focus on something else, even if it's just for a minute… do you have your medicine?”

“No… no I don’t,” Maverick said. Walker didn’t miss the way Maverick seemingly gagged trying to talk.

“Alright, alright” Walker said, rubbing Maverick’s back through his jersey. “Just breathe.”

Maverick took a shaky breath, the air hot and thick. "I know, I know. It's just... hard right now."

Walker tightened his grip slightly, "You're tougher than this heat, Maverick. But if you really need to, I can pull you out. Nobody’s going to get mad about it.”

“No, I’m good,” Maverick mumbled, taking deep breaths and closing his eyes. Anything to stop feeling so shitty.

“Farthest thing from it, dude,” Walker chuckled, “But I’ve got you.”

Maverick forced a smile, though it came out as more of a grimace. "Thanks, man. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Walker chuckled softly. "Probably puke all over your bike."

Despite the queasiness, Maverick let out a short laugh, the sound almost foreign in the midst of his discomfort. "Yeah, probably."

Walker straightened up, giving Maverick's back one last reassuring pat. "We'll get through this. And when you cross that finish line, it'll be worth every second of this hell."

Maverick nodded, his resolve hardening. He wiped the sweat from his brow, taking another deep breath. "Alright. Let's do this."

Walker stepped back, giving him space. "Remember, I'm right here. Just focus on the race, and let me worry about the rest. Gate time."

Maverick gripped the handlebars, feeling the familiar weight of the bike beneath him. The nausea still lingered, but the last thing Maverick wanted was to drop out. He looked up, put on his helmet and goggles, and went to the gate. He got first pick of spot, so he positioned himself dead center of the lineup. It felt safer there.

As the starting signal loomed closer, Maverick squared his shoulders, clenched his jaw, and forced himself to think of literally anything else that wasn’t throwing up on the spot.

The roar of the engines filled the air as the starting gate dropped. Maverick surged forward, the powerful machine beneath him responding to his every command. He was used to racing like this, and currently he tried using it to his advantage.

The track, a maze of jumps, turns, and rough terrain, stretched out before him. Despite the oppressive heat, Maverick's focus was razor-sharp. Racing was everything to him, he refused to let it go.

Each lap felt like an eternity. The vibrations of the bike reverberated through his body, amplifying the nausea that gnawed at his insides.

Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging and blurring his vision. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay present, to keep his mind on the race and not the relentless churning of his stomach.

Halfway through, the heat became unbearable. His skin felt like it was on fire under his gear, the air he breathed scorching his lungs.

The nausea came in waves, each wave more intense than the last. He could feel his strength waning, his muscles aching with the effort of maintaining control. Motocross was brutal, sure. But motocross while feeling like one wrong breath would send your lunch, breakfast, and possibly dinner out of your body before you could react was a new level of exhaustion.

As the race neared its end, Maverick's vision started to tunnel. He could barely see the riders ahead of him, focusing solely on the track, the jumps, the turns. His stomach clenched violently, threatening to empty its contents right there on the bike.

He had to finish this. He had to. He punched the gas, shifted gears, and did everything he could to get across that finish line as soon as possible.

When the checkered flag finally waved, Maverick crossed it with a final burst of speed.

His heart pounded in his chest, he could feel a sort of throbbing in his gut, knowing it was only a matter of time.

He rolled to a stop, the world spinning around him, already trying to undo his helmet and take it off. Walker was already there, guiding him off the bike with a steady hand.

"Maverick, you did it!" Walker's voice was filled with pride and relief. But Maverick could barely hear him over the pounding in his head. He fumbled with his helmet, desperate to get it off.

As soon as it was free, he staggered to the side, something hot and acidic alrwady starting to pour out of his mouth, forcing him to collapse onto the grass.

His stomach convulsed violently, and he vomited, the contents of his stomach splattering onto the ground. The retching was harsh and unrelenting, leaving him gasping for breath between bouts.

Maverick felt his stomach pull in, felt the chunky substance force itself up and out into the grass, every round leaving him coughing after, which just sent up more sludge into the grass. As he heaved up a sickeningly sweet round of pure liquid, Maverick wondered if maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t the smartest idea in the world to substitute two and a half energy drinks for breakfast.

Walker knelt beside him, shielding him from the prying eyes and cameras that had started to gather.

"Give him some space!" Walker barked at the encroaching crowd, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He kept a firm hand on Maverick's back. Maverick braced himself forward with his hand, spitting, trying not to throw up again now that he knew people were watching.

“It's okay, Mav. Just let it out." Walker said.

Maverick heaved again, his body shuddering with the effort. The heat, the exertion, the sickness, the caffeine—it all came crashing down on him, overwhelming his senses. He wondered how much more he was going to throw up, he felt like it had been forever that it just kept coming.

After what felt like an eternity, the vomiting subsided. Maverick’s body trembling with exhaustio. Walker helped him sit back, handing a bottle of water, which he sipped gratefully, rinsing his mouth and taking small sip, trying to catch his breath while the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.

“How shitty did I do this time?” Maverick asked softly. “I kind of… lost it at the end. Couldn’t see anyone, nothing.”

"Shitty? No… Mav, you did amazing," Walker said quietly, "One of your fastest races yet. You held second and third for a while but then you did something at the end, took off and you won, Maverick."

Despite the lingering sickness, a weak smile tugged at Maverick's lips. He had done it. It took four years in all, but Maverick wondered if maybe, just maybe, he’s start climbing the ranks again like he did years ago.

“So I just have to get super sick at every race then, ritually,” Maverick chuckled.

“I would prefer if you didn’t,” Walker said, “My sister is a nurse, not me.”

The sun had long set by the time Walker and Maverick arrived at their shared house, the oppressive heat of the day giving way to a cooler evening.

The race was over, the crowds dispersed, but the remnants of the day's ordeal clung to Maverick like a stubborn shadow.

After a cold shower and changing out of his gear, Maverick still felt nauseous and generally unwell.

The cool water had done little to alleviate the turmoil in his stomach, and the soreness from racing was beginning to set in, a dull ache in his muscles.

He had sat in the living room for a little bit, watching tv with Walker, dozing off every once in a while. Each time he apologized.

“You need to rest,” Walker chuckled, “Besides, what else are we doing tonight? Racing is exhausting.”

“I never asked…” Maverick asked, “How did your race go?”

“Good, third place. Gotta hold down that low spot on the podium.” Walker chuckled.

They settled on the couch, the soft cushions a welcome relief to Maverick’s aching body. Walker turned on the TV, the low murmur of a documentary filling the room.

Maverick tried to focus on the screen, but his eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion pulling him under. He dozed off, the rhythmic sound of Walker’s breathing a comforting backdrop.

When he woke, the scent of dinner wafted through the air, rich and savory. His stomach clenched in protest, the nausea returning with a vengeance. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the bile down, but it was no use.

He got up, planning to just go lay down in his room to take this feeling away.

“Hey, you’re up,” Walker said, “I made extra in case you-“

“No… no…” Maverick swallowed thickly, the saliva pooling in his mouth threatening to betray him. He forced it down, his voice strained. “I… I’m going to lay down.”

Walker watched him with a furrowed brow, concern etched into his features. "You still aren’t feeling so hot?”

Maverick shook his head, the motion making his dizziness worse. “Medicine… not kicking in…”

The room seemed to tilt slightly, his vision blurring at the edges. His stomach churned violently, and he knew he had to get to the bathroom before he could lay down. He took a few unsteady steps, his body protesting with each movement. The nausea surged, an unstoppable wave crashing over him.

He barely made it to the bathroom, stumbling to his knees in front of the toilet. His body heaved, expelling the remnants of his stomach's contents with brutal force. The retching was harsh and unrelenting, each spasm leaving him more drained than the last.

All he had at the moment was water, and maybe some left over from earlier. Whatever was in his stomach was determined to come out, and Maverick’s body was too happy to oblige.

Walker appeared in the doorway. He moved to Maverick's side, crouching down but giving him space. "Just breathe, Mav. You’re okay. I’m right here."

Maverick's breaths came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with the effort. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on Walker's calm presence, grounding himself in the here and now. The nausea eventually subsided, leaving him weak and exhausted.

“Do you want me to call Willow and see if she can get you something stronger?” Walker asked, “Or can you try and take another dose of your-“

“No, to both,” Maverick panted, heaving and spitting one more time, “Too late… I’ll just vomit it back up.”

Walker handed him a damp washcloth, which Maverick used to wipe his face, the coolness soothing against his flushed skin.

“You need anything?" Walker asked softly, his hand resting lightly on Maverick's shoulder.

Maverick shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. "Just… need to lie down."

Walker helped him up, supporting his weight as they made their way back to Maverick's room. The journey felt endless, every step a struggle against his body's weakness. Finally, they reached the bed, and Maverick collapsed onto it, his body sinking into the mattress with a weary sigh.

The hours ticked by slowly. Walker busied himself with small tasks around the house, his mind never straying far from his friend.

As the night grew later, he decided to check on Maverick again before he went to bed. He knocked softly on the door before entering, finding Maverick still lying in bed, his face drawn with discomfort.

"Hey," Walker said quietly, moving to sit beside him. "How're you feeling?"

Maverick turned his head slightly, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Still pretty nauseous," he admitted. "And just... gross."

Walker sighed, reaching out to ruffle Maverick's hair gently. "You still running warm?" he asked as his hand felt warmth beneath it.

Maverick nodded slightly, his anxiety evident in his eyes. "Yeah. Can’t shake the heat."

Walker knew all too well how much fevers heightened Maverick's anxiety. He shifted closer, his presence a silent reassurance. "It's okay," he said softly. "I'm here."

The room was quiet, the only sounds the faint hum of the air conditioner and their steady breaths. Walker continued to mess with Maverick's hair, the repetitive motion calming for both of them. He could feel the heat radiating off Maverick's skin.

Maverick didn't say much, but he didn't need to. The silent understanding between them spoke volumes. Walker's presence, his quiet support, was all Maverick needed in that moment. They didn't need to talk about the race, the sickness, or anything else. If this was a fever and not retained overheating, Walker knew what might happen. They both did. They both knew what Maverick had gone through, what might resurface given the stress of it all, and that was enough.

Walker stayed with him, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand a constant, soothing presence in Maverick's hair. It effectively knocked Maverick out pretty quickly, the twenty four year old finally falling properly asleep.

The minutes stretched into hours, the night deepening around them. Maverick's breathing gradually evened out, the tension slowly leaving his body.

Walker stayed with him, watching over his friend as he slept. He wanted to stay, he should stay. So, he would. Willow would probably slap him if she found out he didn’t. Or get Vanessa to break him in half. Or both.

The house was still and quiet as the night deepened, the only sound the gentle hum of the air conditioner. Walker remained at Maverick's bedside, his own eyes growing heavy with fatigue. He glanced at his friend, noticing how Maverick's seemed uncomfortable, even when he was sleeping. Walker knew what that probably meant.

Maverick's feverish state brought on restless dreams, his subconscious mind dredging up memories he had long tried to bury.

He was back in the cold, sterile rooms of the conversion therapy center, the harsh fluorescent lights blinding him as he was subjected to endless sessions meant to break him down, to reshape him into something he wasn't. To convince him that he was an abomination. To convince him he was some horrible human being just for being in love with his best friend.

The dream became more vivid, the voices of the counselors echoing in his mind, their cruel words blending with the nausea that still churned in his stomach.

Maverick's heart raced, his breathing quickening as the dream tightened its grip. The feeling of suffocation, the relentless pressure to conform, overwhelmed him. He tossed and turned, his body drenched in sweat.

Suddenly, Maverick jolted awake, his eyes wide with panic. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as he struggled to free himself from the lingering grip of the nightmare. The room felt too small, too hot, too stifling. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the terror that had seized him.

Walker was instantly alert, his hand moving to Maverick's shoulder. Walker knew this, he did. This happened more than either of them wanted it to.

“Mav, hey, it's okay. You're safe. You're here with me," he said, his voice calm and steady.

Maverick's eyes darted around the room, struggling to focus. The remnants of the nightmare clung to him, feeding his anxiety. He tried to take a deep breath, but the nausea surged again, forcing him to double over. Walker was quick to react, grabbing a nearby wastebasket and holding it for Maverick.

"It's alright, just breathe," Walker murmured, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Maverick's back.

Maverick heaved, the retching violent and painful. The panic attack and nausea fed off each other, creating a vicious cycle that left him gasping for air. Tears streamed down his face, the combined physical and emotional strain too much to bear.

Walker remained a constant, steady presence, his own heart aching for his friend. "I'm right here, Mav. Just let it out. You're not alone," he repeated, his voice a lifeline in the storm.

Minutes felt like hours as Maverick's body finally began to calm. The nausea slowly subsided, leaving him weak and shaky. He leaned back against the headboard, his eyes closing as he tried to regain his breath.

Walker placed the wastebasket aside, wiping Maverick's face with a cool cloth.

"You're okay," he said softly. "It was just a dream. You're safe now."

Maverick nodded weakly, his eyes still closed. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I just... I couldn't stop it."

Walker shook his head, his expression filled with compassion. "You don't have to apologize. You've been through so much. It's no wonder your mind is trying to process it all. This always happens, Mav… it’s okay.”

Maverick opened his eyes, meeting Walker's gaze. "It just... it felt so real. Like I was back there. I can’t go back there.

Walker nodded, " Well, you aren’y there. You're here, with me. At my place. Your parents and the nuns can’t get you here. You’re rebuilding your motocross life and you’re going to be fine. You’re safe, I promise."

Maverick took a shuddering breath, the fear and nausea still lingering but less overwhelming with Walker by his side.

"Thank you," he said, his voice hoarse but sincere. “I’m sorry…”

Walker smiled gently. "Always, Mav. I'm not going anywhere. You don’t need to apologize… do you want me to call Willow and see if she can get you something stronger?”

“Maybe in the morning…” Maverick said, “I.. I think I’ll be okay.”

Walker nodded, “trust me, you will be.”

#emeto #sickfic #emeto fic #emeto cw #emeto tw #emetophilia #fever cw #fever tw #emeto writer #religious trauma tw #trauma cw

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teaveetamer · 7 months ago

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It really sucks that you're getting harassed, but u should look back at the harassment you never really stopped to support and the harassment you avoid talking about too. Everyone sucks here, you're incapable of decrying the harassment coming from your "side" because you care more about blorbo discourse... Do you actually stand up against harassment if you don't say anything when it's from your "side" or at least people who enjoy your blorbo? If you only do so when coming from fans of the character you don't like?

I sincerely hope the harassment you receive stop, to be clear you absolutely do not deserve the shit you're dealing with, nobody does. But I hope you'll genuine look at yourself and the people surrounding you too.

Anon, I'm going to take this in the best possible faith, but holy shit this is so fucking terminally online. Like, you are aware that I'm an adult? I'm slaving away at an unpaid internship, I'm in graduate school, and I've got 20k words worth of academic papers to write and exams to study for. I'm spending time with my dying grandpa and I'm finding new and inventive ways to give a semi-feral cat heart medicine without getting my thumb bitten off. I'm not "intentionally ignoring" things going on, I'm just not an omniscent god who can keep track of 472 million Tumblr users at every given moment of the day and also have a job and a life. So if you've got beef and you think I'm not properly calling someone out then I'm going to need you to send me a link. I get maybe and hour of Tumblr time a day, and I don't actually follow 3H discourse because, shocker, I don't actually find getting into the exact same tired fights we were getting into 5 years ago all that fun or enjoyable. Isn't it wild though? It's been half a decade since 3H launch and I've spent like half of that with people stalking me and sending me death threats for no fucking reason!

Anyway, I could not give two tenths of a fuck whether or not you like my blorbo. I'm primarily concerned by the people sending death threats, actively defending genocidal rhetoric, stalking people, making false pedophilia accusations, et-fucking-cetera. I've done literally everything in my power to try and come to an understanding with the people inflicting the harassment and they're stiiiiiiill just doing it, years later, cuz I guess they don't have anything better to do. The only remotely comparable thing I've witnessed from "my side" in recent days, which frankly doesn't even come close to the level of vitriol and harassment of death threats, was that one of my mutuals called the genocidal freak (who intentionally tried to trigger me in the past) a mean name. And I only found out about that because a friend of mine saw it and talked to me about it. And wow look at that, if you actually go to the post you can literally see me telling that mutual to knock it off! And I spoke to them privately about it too! Which is something, frankly, I think I had every reason to not do given the way that person being insulted has treated me (And the lack of apology I've received from them for that). So like, not sure which kidney you want me to sacrifice to prove that I'm not actually cool with people stalking others and sending death threats.

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cookii-moon · 2 years ago

Text

This is my excuse to gush over Dragon form because yes.

Basically headcanon and redesign galore yayy

More under the cutoff since this is LONG. You have been warned.

The first part is an introduction, and then the second is actually talking about my designs and ideas and stuff, plus some thoughts/snippets/headcanons... help me.

SO apparently I am far more stupid than I thought, and the reason I say that is because for WHATEVER REASON, it took me ONE. YEAR. For the thought "Hey Cookie the ninja became dragons that one time" to even properly cross my mind, let alone set in. Which is surprising, because I historically freak out over dragons. You'd think that my favorite blorbos having dragon forms would make me instantly go crazy, but no, it took an entire year for my brain to even realize it was... you know... dragon related... even.though I knew they were dragon related... I just didn't... does that make sense? Probably not.

ANYWAYS

As it stands the dragon forms are forgettable because they're literally just reskins but with different element colors (which makes sense, cause yknow... Lego molds...) and then they vanish which obviously yeah. Who knows maybe they'll come back in dragons rising now that the ninja have their powers again.

BUT THAT DOESN'T STOP ME FROM GUSHING OVER THEM ONE YEAR AFTER THEY WERE RELEVANT.

Hyperfixation transcends the measly concept of time (actually that's probably not true I wouldn't know since I don't think about the very fabric of reality that often) so good luck stopping me.

ANYWAY, so uh... I might or might not have on a whim made messy concept sketches for each dragon form, made up a ton of headcanons, and chosen color scheme... no... no I didn't do that.

Okay yeah I did that.

...I was supposed to do two at a time.

How did I get here. The power of autistic brain.

Time to actually talk about the designs!!

Uhhh I'm gonna go in true potential order... because yes.

First... Zaneee!!!

Without color in case it's confusing

Also you're gonna notice a trend with this being that the drawings are not high quality or rendered or anything and are sloppily colored and that's because they're just concepts. I only did the actual "big" draconic traits because I wanted to get it finished quickly so i had an excuse to talk about it. If I ever do use them for an actual art piece then I'll fully render them n stuff obviously this is just to get across the concept.

So since Zane is a robot it.. would be kinda hard for him to suddenly get like.. organic dragon wings... or whatever...

So instead- he gets cybernetic dragon wings and a tail. Yes i know that still requires cartoon logic. The power of creation just magicked them into existence OK? It makes more sense than randomly growing scales.

The mechanic parts are mostly held together/afloat by the ice energy flowing through them (which is what the crystal-like fragments that make up most of his wings are!)

Also his horns are like a little crown... because... I dunno I thought it'd fit with his haircut and such but also ice Emperor (even though he didn't really wear a crown) look this was drawn at like 2 am I don't know what I was thinking with it or why I didn't actually draw the haircuts as well..

I imagine that he'd be very cold to the touch, especially his wings (which are pretty much sheets of ice) both Jay and Kai have ways of circumventing it, but when Cole has to deal with it (like sitting next to him or such) he gets sluggish pretty quickly. Zane is still trying to figure out a way to ease it a bit.

He also tends to make clanging noise by tapping his tail against the ground when he's upset, or make mechanical whirring noises when irritated. Nobody quite knows why since yknow robot, it's just a quirk.

His ice energy does mean he's gotten a power boost. Just like literally everyone else.

Also this is going to involve me assuming they kept these features because if Lloyd can be part dragon then so can the ninja I dare you to fight me /lighthearted

Jay!! He bird. Feather scrunchie.

"But Cookie that's not a dragon-"

Shhhh If a dinosaur can have feathers so can a dragon they're both giant reptiles OK. Feather dragon. It's a thing.

I'm going to be honest the only thing going through my mind while drawing this was vague wing shapes I can't even put a name to (they were probably from monster hunter... I think... Uh... ) and silkie chickens. Not quite sure why I thought of silkie chickens, but I did. So here we are.

So anyways I love him. HIM!! FEATHER MAN!!!

Also I just realized while writing this he can finally be fugi dove's proper equal and arch nemesis. Amazing.

So while drawing I was like "it'd be neat if he could produce static n such with his wings/feathers" so I took off to the internet and after trying a ton of different "CAN BIRDS MAKE STATIC" "ARE BIRD FEATHERS STATIC" and such search queries I finally came up with that ostrich feathers can have static and chicken feathers were used in computer components and hummingbirds can produce static from how fast they flap their wings. Is that trustworthy whatsoever? Probably not. (Surprisingly the most trustworthy one seems to be that chicken feathers were used for computer components which is funny) But rule of cool. I get to break the laws of physics and reality for my story as long as it's cool. Yay.

He's very fluffy and enjoys using his wings to snuggle up in bed :) Cole also tries to steal him as a blanket during winter. Nya and Lloyd can't because of the static but Cole can't be shocked so Jay just has to begrudgingly accept it with his hollow bones and consequentially low weight. He's also known to let sparks off when he's excited/happy, which is f u n.

Also I used the blue/yellow color palette because they seem to be leaning towards using more yellow in Jay's color themes (like how they started using orange in Cole's or blue in Zane's) and I thought it worked really well here so yeah!! It also helps differentiate him even more.

He sheds like crazy. Especially during winter where he gets EVEN FLUFFIER. (no one knows how it's even possible) Feathers everywhere. Cole and Kai also shed, but they shed skin all in one go (usually..), whereas Jay just leaves a pillows worth of feathers everywhere he inhabits, and it drives them insane.

The type of dragon he is is mostly a flight based species. They hunt in the air, live in the air for most of their lives, and such. Because of that not only does he rarely sit down, but he is FILLED with excess energy. He's also the most natural and second fastest flier, and fastest consistent flier.

Because the type of dragon he takes after is so focused on flight, they also roost up in really high places, so you'll probably find him on the top bunk, up in rafters, on the Monastery roof, etc. He loves that they're on a mountain because it means he can take a flight whenever he wants to. That doesn't stop him from being horrible at evading actual birds, though.

He also regularly makes "chirp" and clicking noises. (By chirp I mean the type a cat will do while looking at a window or such. Look up cats chirping or smthn for an example if u haven't heard it before.)

Could I have just made him a dragon with lightning bolt patterns?

Yes but that would be very boring and uncreative (in my opinion and standards I hold myself to ofc-) SO.

Jay is chicken. Jay uses wings to shoot lightning. Thank you for your time.

Cole. He crystal dragon. He's probably also gonna be a pain to draw (but also very fun) because of that. Yay.

I could of just done magma but I loved the idea of like a crystal dragon. So I made a ninjago related crystal dragon...

... again. Don't ask about the first one.

so uh I chose the colors bc like light blues/purples/white are pretty stereotypical crystal colors (plus I think they're pretty) and then orange... because. Cole. He has little crystal patches all over him and his scales also have like.. small crystals dotted all over.

I feel like whatever species of dragon he is is probably adapted to like.. mostly living in caves? Like cave bats kinda where it goes outside at night to hunt but sleeps and lives in caves, and probably goes deeper in the cave to hibernate. So because of that he can be sensitive to artificial light and doesn't really have any like adaptations for the winter, so he just tries to snuggle up with Jay or Kai to keep warm and gets really tired/sluggish when he's cold because reptile. On the other end he can sense vibrations since his species wouldn't be relying on sight as much, which is very handy.

Unlike Zane, Jay, or Kai, he can't really "fly" exactly. His wings are much smaller because the species kinda adapted to being able to use them as a sort of speed boost thing where they'd use them to get quick bursts of flight to catch prey, but since they mostly hunted on the ground and lived in caves they didn't need full on flight. However it's sorta a peregrine falcon situation where technically he is the fastest of all the ninja in flight, but only during a short burst.

He is also very well adapted to climbing vertical surfaces. His claws are REALLY good at gripping onto things since they were adapted to cling onto things such as stalactites, rock walls, etc. to traverse up ledges and deeper parts of caves, and he can also use his wings (and more specifically their claws) as a third pair of limbs to grip onto walls.

Cole tends to make more subtle noises, he growls when agitated and purrs when content or in pain (yes that's a thing, purring soothes and encourages healing, so cats will also purr when they're hurt or scared to comfort themselves) but it isn't very loud, so it's not easily noticeable.

Kai!!

Again

Could I have done magma for Cole and just given Kai flame wings?

Yes. But I'm not going to, because I find this approach more interesting.

... I joke that it's magma but not REALLy, it's still just.. fire... but his scales are brown cause I thought it fit. So. A lot of people like to draw Lloyd with the kinda dragon ears so I thought it'd be cute if Kai, as his guardian, also had them since, again, a lot of people like to see them as brothers. And I just gave him generic dragon horns. Because dragon.

It's hard to simplify it because... fire... so this is probably the worst sketch..

Look OK he gets to breathe fire. Like that's one of the most iconic medieval red dragon things, he's the fire ninja, he gets to breathe fire and blow smoke out of his nostrils when mad I don't make the rules.

I also kinda went all in on generic dragon tropes (i mean ig they're not as generic anymore because of stuff like HTTYD) because... Kai.

So like hot temper, fire breath, that type of thing.

He also has a hoarding habit, as in instead of cleaning or anything when he uses something and just tosses it aside, he puts it all in an ever growing pile of stuff that he just let's stay there until somebody else cleans it up because they were sick of it. Compared to Jay's feathers it's not the WORST thing in the world.

He's slower than Zane and Jay, but can fly for longer periods of time than Zane. His species is kind of adapted to flying closer to the land. So that they can eat some well cooked cow. Yknow generic dragon stuff.

I also think it'd be funny, since dragons are fiercely protective, if these dragons had a dragapult situation where if they didn't have a kid they'd just "adopt" (in their eyes, in reality it's abducting. Usually.) a random animal and pretend it's their child. Because. Kai.

He's also fireproof, to an extent. He can withstand intense heat (unlike Cole or Jay) and can withstand intense cold (Unlike Cole... poor guy) because fire. He can't dive bomb into a volcano though since it would eventually get through and burn him to a crisp, but in small amounts he'll be FINEEEE...

Im not quite sure if he'd make any sort of draconic noises or anything. I feel like maybe he'd growl when upset, but it'd be louder than Cole? Whereas Cole does it more frequently (probably to be passive aggressive) but it's much more silent. He also has a tendency to involuntarily raise his voice a lot.

Yeah that's about it. Also if you consider lloyd to be a dragon, or think of Nya as having dragon features from when she just became h2o that one time, then the entire group might as well be renamed to Dragon ninja. Even Wu!!

..I feel like Lloyd would be jealous- Like "Oh why do THEY get to go full dragon and have wings when I don’t?!" But he'd never say anything because Lloyd.. but everybody knows something is up and is trying to make him feel better... but it's making him feel worse because it just makes him feel more singled out... oh boy that's uh I'm gonna shut that depressing thought train down right there.

Poor pixal though... she's left out because she's too cool already.

ALSO if you ever use this or want to expand upon it/take inspiration from it PLEASE DO AND TELL/SEND IT TO ME I WANT TO SEE AND HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS PLEASE DHRJGJDJDJ I LOVE WHEN MY STUFF PROMPTS IDEAS

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gingerbreadmonsters · 2 years ago

Text

stupid cupid

or: stop picking on me!

gn!reader, no content warnings, fun dumb fluff for the soul. sam collins, you’re a real mean guy! takes place inside the wonderful lexi’s prissy au, where alexis and christian are together - @autisticempathydaemon i hope i do your blorbos justice! as always, i owe everything to the discord girlies - i get the sudden feeling that @zozo-01 might want to hear about this... oh, and all my love to my lovely dialect coach, the incomparable @sri-rachaa - without whom, you would all be subject to the most unholy combination of accents imaginable. be very very grateful! 💕💕 heavily inspired by stupid cupid by connie francis, which i demand you listen to while you read. spot the 五二零 reference! sam being absolutely, thoroughly to blame in just over 2200 words.

“Well. Fancy seeing you here, hmm?”

Sam Collins is an idiot.

Yeah, you’re not afraid to say it.

Sam Collins is an idiot, and you’ll tell anyone who listens, swear up and down it’s the honest truth. A bleeding-heart birdbrain who couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag. An empty-headed vamp with a talent for healing and an even bigger talent for sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. Nobody else alive can put their foot in their mouth quite so quickly or obviously, and - despite Asher’s continued existence - he actually holds the state record for most dumb things said in a single minute. He’s a moron and a fool and the stupidest goddamn loser you’ve ever met in your life, and the worst part about it is that you’re absolutely, ridiculously, so so so in love with him.

It’s not fair!

What even is there to like about him? His stupid face and his awful smile and that horrible way he says there’s my darlin’, all relieved and deep and easy, when you come traipsing back through his door like a drowned rat because you hadn’t checked the forecast and it had started raining about twenty minutes after you left. His old-fashioned, ugly haircut that’s the perfect length to run your fingers through, all messy and falling across his face when he’s asleep in your arms, unfairly soft and pretty even though he barely takes care of it at all. That god-awful scruff around his jaw that you can’t help but kiss as he fills the kettle up with water, those strong hands that gently find their way around your waist as you’re listening to Milo’s tale of whatever bullshit he and his mate got up to last week, the way he likes to prop you up against his chest whenever you’re watching TV together…

…Sorry, what were we talking about?

Oh, Sam, right. Yeah, yeah. He’s an idiot. Have you mentioned that yet?

He gets back and finds you perched on the kitchen counter, elbow deep in the bag of crisps you said you didn’t like but he knows you do, because he pays too much attention to stupid shit like that for his own good. He lets you play your music in the car way more than the 50/50 you’d agreed on, which you know is true because you’ve started counting, because he’s a lying liar who lies. He always opens doors for you and pulls out your chair at the table and brings you flowers, but never lets you do the same for him, because he’s an enemy of goodness who hates things being fair.

He’s just so - he’s - the - he - aargh!

Stupid, stupid Sam Collins. It should be illegal to be so - so like that, you know? Who even let him get like this, anyway? Kissing your hand as he says hello with that damned smile, like some dashing hero out of one of those gushy romance novels Vincent’s always carting around - you know the ones, the cringy airport-duty-free types with the big cursive letters and a stock photo of some windswept white guy plastered across the cover. Your real life white knight, stepped right off the page and into your arms like it’s where he’s meant to be.

(It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud, but sometimes you really do have to wonder. He gives Vincent shit for reading all those cheesy romance novels, but you’re starting to think it’s Sam who takes them to heart. He does know that those aren’t instruction manuals… right?)

He’s something else, that man. Unfortunately, you can’t say you don’t like it.

At first, you’d thought he was just playing it up - trying to be courteous, trying to be nice, and accidentally laying it on just a bit too thick. It seemed like the sort of thing he’d do, from what you could tell. He’s just so good - the kind of guy that you can’t help but admire in a sort of ‘oh, he’ll make someone really happy, one day’ kind of way. Does that make sense? Charming, really charming, even if he thinks he isn’t - and thoroughly, utterly, absolutely meant for someone a lot better than you.

You don’t say it. Never have, never will. It’s obvious. Larger than life, moonlight on the silver screen. He’s always been meant for more than this, more than you, and you won’t insult his intelligence by pretending you don’t know. He could do so much better, couldn’t he? To start with, you’d thought he must be more of an idiot than he’d seemed, to want you the way he says he does.

You know a little better now, but it doesn’t stop surprising you - he doesn’t stop surprising you.

Credit where it’s due, he’s stuck around, even when you thought he wouldn’t. The truth isn’t hard to see, but he does his best to persuade you otherwise, in as many words - and sometimes not so many clothes. More often than not, you tend to believe him. He’s very convincing, when he wants to be - that or he’s just stubborn, and you never learnt the difference. Whatever it is, it sounds so nice when he says it. If that’s what his version of persuasion feels like, you’re more than happy to, uh… to be convinced, if you will.

You don’t have to say. He knows. He already knows, and he stays anyway.

“...Darlin’?”

Oh, fuck, he - um-

“Uh - yeah, I - oh - yeah, I, um…” Startled out of your daydreaming, you’re caught off-guard by that foaming, fizzing feeling that bubbles up in your chest as he catches your eye, leaning down to prop himself up on the side of the sofa right next to where you’re sitting. “I was just, you know… sitting here��”

He laughs low and easy at your smooth comeback, shifting his weight to rest on one arm so he can reach out and take your hand gently in his. “Gettin’ comfy, are we?”

“Mm-hmm,” you mumble, trying desperately not to look as flustered as you feel. Fuck, does everyone feel like this when they see their mates? Or is it just the effect Sam has on you? You’d better start cutting Milo some more slack for that dumb face he makes whenever his mate walks into the room. “Got back early from David’s.”

“He alrigh’?”

“Seems it.” It’s always a bit awkward, going over to hang out at David’s house, but it’s generally a good time when you can pluck up the courage to actually go. “Ash spent half the time giving him shit for losing at Mario Kart, and the other half was mostly David beating him into the ground at Gang Beasts, so… yeah?”

The afternoon had been pretty good, all things considered - barring one minor mishap with a deck of UNO cards, a saucepan full of rice and some god-awful rhythm action game - and it had been nice to spend some time just relaxing with the others again. Everyone’s been so busy that it’s been hard to find a day you could all do, so it was a good change of pace.

Sam nods, thumb idly stroking over the back of your hand. “Seems like the pair of ‘em are settlin’ right in with this whole engaged business, then.”

“Business as usual, more like. They’re all lovey with their mates anyway, so it’s no different.” It’s not like it’s anyone’s fault - it’s just the way the bond works, you know? Not a compulsion, it’s not forcing you close or making you want to be all soft and touchy all the time. It just… it feels nice, is all. Like it’s good, like it’s true, like it’s right. You’d like to say you’re not as PDA-heavy as the really ooey-gooey ones like Milo and his mate, but… Well. Maybe most of the time.

“Mm, ‘spose you’re right on that front,” he muses, regretfully letting go of your hand as he stands up and starts walking off towards the kitchen. “‘Sides, ain’t David the one who proposed to his mate on solstice day? Guess he’s just the romantic type.”

“I…” When you think of romantic people, David Shaw isn’t top of the list, but maybe he’s right. When it comes to all that cheesy, cutesy stuff? Angel isn’t exactly the most subtle pet name, after all. “Yeah, I guess.”

You make to get up and follow him, but he holds out a hand to stop you before you can even properly stand.

“Nope - you stay right there, darlin’,” he says, grabbing the remote off the side table and tossing it lightly into your lap as he disappears out into the corridor. “Won’t be more’n a minute.”

“Everything alright?”

“Left my phone on the counter, ‘s all,” he replies, voice echoing slightly in the hall as you turn the TV on, idly flicking through the channels. “Vincent wanted me to take a look at some website or other - last I heard, he’s been makin’ plans for some Valentine’s Day thing?”

“He’ll be disappointed, then,” you snicker, readjusting yourself slightly to make room for Sam as he comes to sit next to you on the sofa. “He has realised that Valentine’s Day was, like, two weeks ago, right?”

A long-suffering sigh - which, to be honest, is most of the clan’s reaction when Vincent starts waxing lyrical about his partner again. There’s been a meeting at William’s all evening, something about making preparations for an event at one of the properties in a few months’ time, so Vincent must have got a hold of him there.

“Well, whatever it is, he’s got all sorts of ideas floatin’ around. He normally asks Alexis about this kinda thing, but she wasn’t there tonight so he came to me.”

“Huh.” That’s unusual. Alexis is normally really on top of these sorts of things - say what you will about her, she’s always on time and she never misses anything business-related if she can help it. “Maybe she’s just feeling a bit under the weather today.”

“Vincent said she had some ‘prior arrangement’ in town she couldn’t miss.” Sam shrugs, settling in next to you as you switch over to Netflix. “Guess she must’ve been double-booked tonight.”

Hmm. Why is that familiar? Playing truant, ‘double-booked’... You haven’t heard anything about Alexis being busy tonight before, so why does ‘prior arrangement’ ring a bell?

...Wait.

Oh, so that’s why Christian left early! You’d thought he was looking unusually dressed up. Their date night is normally Wednesdays, so it hadn’t even crossed your mind, but now that you think about it you remember Chrissy bitching about being on an out-of-town job all this week and having to miss it.

Oh, fair enough then. If someone had tried to send you out on some boring security gig for a week and you couldn’t see Sam until you got back, you’d probably be pretty pissed off too.

The conversation trails off a bit as you finally find a show you want to watch, and you’re just reaching for the blanket behind you when he - oh, when - um, when, ahhh…

“This alrigh’?” Curse his vampire speed! Before you really know what’s happening, he’s got you pressed right up against him, legs draped over his lap and curled in close under his arm, blanket over both of you. Not that you need it, anymore - your face feels like lava with the way he’s looking at you, impossibly gentle and kind.

“Yeah, yeah…” The spotlight of his attention, turned fully on you, and you’re practically blinded every time. “Good, yeah, it’s uh… yeah, ‘s fine…”

“Good,” he says, smiling softly like he has no idea of the effect he has on you. “Wouldn’t want my mate gettin’ cold on my watch.”

Fuck, does he always have to say it like that? Doesn’t he know what it does to you? Mate, mate, mate. Rattling around in your head, that firecracker-fizzing in your chest that runs through you at just the thought. He’ll end up giving you a heart attack one of these days, the way he’s going. And if it means he’ll heal you, hands all over you, holding you close as his aura cracks and sparks with healing magic? Maybe it’s overkill - but you can’t say the thought isn’t very appealing.

You hide your smile against his shoulder, burying your face in his chest in a vain attempt to play it cool - unfortunately his ridiculously-affectionate little laugh as you twist your fingers in his shirt tells you that it hasn't quite worked.

“Y’know, you seem a bit distracted, if I’m bein’ honest.”

The TV is long-forgotten as he gently tips your chin up, that idiot, idiot Sam Collins - dumb silver eyes and horrible smile and stupidly-handsome face just inches away. Is it just you, or is it a bit warm in here? In the arms of an evil, awful, wicked man whose favourite thing to do is make your stupid brain stop working, who sets your face and your heart and your soul on fire without a second thought, without even knowing he’s doing it. Honestly. What’s become of you? A house and a life and a mate that’s yours, it’s yours, he’s yours.

“Penny for your thoughts, darlin’?” A soft kiss, pressed lightly to your cheek, and all of a sudden the inside of your brain lights up a familiar shade of bright, bright blue.

He - you - oh, that’s - he just - aargh!

masterlist

this is an original work by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fluff #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted fic #ginger writes #gingerbreadmonsters

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likeastars · 2 years ago

Text

Yandere!AU and Ada's no good, very bad day.

For @incorrect-nevermore that told me that otherwise she would take the band!AU in the divorce >:(

Warning: this gets fucked up. Pretty bloody and horny because they are my blorbos and they have every disease 💝💖💕💕💗💝💖💘

~~~

Annabel has an horrendous bite etched onto the skin.

That's not the first thing she notices, obviously. That's reserved for Lenore, slouching on the other woman's shoulder, her face cut by a tiny grin and her brows a bit scrunched, as she whispers and giggles in her hear.

But then the bite becomes visible and. Wow. (It's a bad wow. It's a very bad wow and she feels sick)

She can see it from a distance, ugly and red, sprouting from Annabel's unbuttoned blouse and hastily thrown on jacket. There are still droplets of blood slowly making their way from her pulse point down her shoulder.

And Montresor knew it, and even if Montresor was the worst of the worst he knew it and he said it, that between them they had something absolutely and truly and incomparably

Fucked.

But Montresor has been gone for a long time now, and nobody knows how or where or why.

(Students say that if you go near the ex-magazine on the first floor you can still hear his screams. She thinks they should stop talking about it because otherwise Annabel will make them)

Ada tries to make peace with the situation as quickly as she can: she just has to make her way down the corridor, enter her room (good God she doesn't want to know the state her room is in) and act like she hasn't witnessed the most unholy thing in her life.

Then she locks eyes with Annabel.

And she feels like swearing for the second time that evening.

The blonde gets a bit of a crease on her forehead, but she leisurely makes her way towards her, like it's alright. Like it's normal.

She laughs with Lenore, and the dark-haired outcast throws a "hey Ada!" In her direction. Her tone is kind (she is always kind, even with cowards like her) but she looks... weird. She's still leaning heavily on Annabel and she feels like her hears are there only to capture her every word and every breath and her eyes to track and drink and worship every movement of her body.

She looks drunk.

Drunk on her.

"You're just the woman I wanted to see, love! I wanted to discuss a little... situation with you." Lenore snorts and Annabel stops breathing for a second just to bask in the sound.

Ew.

"Can't you wait until tomorrow?" A glare. "I-I know that if you sought me out you must have something important to discuss but..." she forces out a yawn as one last desperate attempt to just go to sleep and forget this nightmare of an evening. "I'm pretty tired and I'm afraid I wouldn't give it the attention it deserves." She cracks out an apologetic smile, for good measure.

The crease in Annabel's forehead is more evident now.

Ada is not keeping count of the swears anymore.

"Bu- but, obviously, what you have to say comes first!" It doesn't. It really doesn't and she has to bite down her lip to not let the tears spill.

Annabel, luckily, smiles. Ada hopes.

"Good!" She says, then she claps her hands like Ms. Poppet before she gives merits. "You see, my darling pet here," she pops a bit the p and Lenore nuzzles into her a bit more, "was telling me all about your recent attempts at... befriending her. She even mentioned a striking collaboration between the two of you in the "Mistery Manor" and..."

Her expression crumples.

"I don't like it."

Fuck fuck fuck FUCK they have sorrounded her. While spouting sugar coated words they have sorrounded her and she feels her breath become heavy heavy heavy and there is no

goddamned

way out of their grasp.

She dies tonight. Of that, she is sure.

(And has been sure of for a while).

"Calm down love!" Annabel's hand on her shoulder feels like poison seeping under her skin. Her smile is so fake she feels like puking.

"You see, my pet is really attached to her little group of friends." Annabel caresses Lenore's cheekbone as she talks, "and as much as that irritates me," she's fucking scratching it now and Ada feels herself go paler, because Lenore is loving it.

"I would do anything, anything, to keep my pet happy." They are looking in each other's eyes now.

Annabel takes a drop of blood from Lenore's cheek and looks at it like it's a treasure.

Then she licks. It. Off.

"So," she keeps going why does she keep going "say it."

It isn't an order. It's divine judgement.

Lenore talks for the first time in this insane conversation, asking: "are you my friend, Ada?"

And Ada thinks and thinks and thinks of Montresor's growls as he said to stay away from Lenore, of laughter, of Morella's worried eyes and of Annabel's freezing glare but she also doesn't.

This life, or death.

She begs, between the tears and the sobs, blurting out: "yes! Yes- sure, without doubt, I care for you so much Lenore I-"

BANG!

The bullet crushes her skull and bludgeons her brain and Ada falls on the floor cracking what was left of her head in a disgusting, apocalyptic, and final

CRUNCH.

It was the wrong answer.

Ada is no more.

The other orbs it the forest tell her what happened next, because they are eyes and they are ears and they are all.

They tell her that Annabel worriedly cupped Lenore's face, with tender hands still dirty of blood, and she asked: "but wasn't she one of your little playthings, Lenore?" And that Lenore threw her gun away and gently took those killer hands in hers, correcting her, "Friends, my darling." then curing the thunder of anger the correction caused with a kiss on the sweet skin of her wrist. "I love my friends a lot, and you know that." A peck on the forearm, "I would die for them," on the shoulder, "kill for them." on the neck. "But for you, Annabel Lee,"

She nibbled on the soft soft skin of her ear. "I would burn the world down."

Annabel ended up backed against the wall of the corridor, her boots on Ada's cold fingers and her breath ragged.

Their mouths were so close they were burning while their eyes were already tasting what was to come, when Lenore whispered:

"She, was neither. She wasn't worth a single crinkle of your brows."

And Ada has been mocked many times, but that was maybe the one that cut the most.

They kissed, voraciously. Like animals, touching and biting and scratching, hands getting hungrier and hungrier, and bodies rowdy and loud in a tango of damning love.

Then the orbs, that were all, that saw all, that witnessed wild monsters and an even more monstrous academy, start shivering, and hesitating.

They tell her, in what feels like a whisper, that while the women were undressing, the spirits saw their backs, in that hall.

Haunted backs, they say.

They were full of red from cuts, and blue from bruises, and a sickly, rotten orange from badly healed burns. Words were scarred onto their skin, and they looked like wedding vows.

Then Lenore and Annabel retreated into her room, and the spirits refuse to tell her more.

#*bites them like a chew toy* I made the insaner. hell yeah.#nevermore webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #lenore nevermore #white raven #ada nevermore #nev #my writing

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growling · 4 months ago

Note

Tribe Nine vs Last Defense Academy

What are your thoughts

I already kinda spoken about these at length a while back in this post but since new info came out on Tribe Nine (still radio silence concerning THL:LDA) here are my thoughts:

Last Defense Academy:

I don't get the hype. I mean I get it because Danganronpa man make another game that you can pretend is basically Danganronpa 4 if you squint but. Wish we could go back to the days where Kodaka merely alluding to wanting make another Danganronpa game resulted in him getting ratio'd on twitter

From what we know about the gameplay I'll confidently say its not my thing. I don't like strategy games. It looks like Forge of Empires mobile ad

I have a feeling (rare occurence) that it is actually a barely disguised gacha game

It's basically just Danganronpa with extra steps. It's literally Danganronpa but less good. They gotta do something REAL spectacular here in order to convince me they aren't just pandering to all the danganronpa fans left here.

I was wrong about the radio silence bit there actually was a twt post that revealed that there are basically THREE mascot characters. There's a THIRD one. And they all look hideous. Get cum shinigami away from my fucking eyes I hope they die in the prologue after giving the tutorial and we never hear from them again

Moving on to the art. Why are they white. I don't mean the race I mean why the fuck are they #FFFFFF. And I thought raincoders were unnaturally pale it doesn't even look good. All the character design suck except maybe for main boy I think he's fine. Especially the eyesore blue hair girl who approved this she doesn't look official my 10 year old self could make an oc with more aesthetically pleasing colors than whoever created this wretch

Takumi is fine. I could kidnap him. Still not over how he's just walmart Yomi but if he chose peace. Truly, a son, and brother -- I'm an extremely abusive father,

I have irrational levels of hatred towards The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy

Tribe Nine:

This one is actually confirmed to be a gacha game from the start but I can forgive them

As mentioned in the above linked post I just find its premise too funny not to respect. No I'm not gonna play it. However,

The only thing I care about is the superior glory of the character known as Zero. Holy fucking shit words cannot express how much I want him I mean how much he interests me as a character

Look at him. Gorgeos. He looks so much like Makoto. He looks and acts like a makoyomi baby which is crazy that I got like 2 whole ass kids that look like they'd be plausibly mine, and brother, I am an

He's even got a mask. This is fucked. Everything about whatever the fuck he's got going on has been life ruining for me. He's like a honorary blorbo at this point. I hope he's a cyborg of some sorts

I support him in every atrocity he wants to commit. Let baby do a little bit of dictatorship stop stifling his creativity

#1/Kazuma, while he's not Zero, which knocks down his position by a LOT, can take second place. He can have it. Not just because he's affiliated with <3 Zero <3 but because I love these kinda evil henchman type of guys. Loyal deeply cringe manservant lickspittle who's fucking obsessed and borderline gay about it. All my hopes for Kazuma is that he has to say any variation of "on it boss. you got it boss. right away boss. you need to talk to the boss. got a problem with the boss? well if boss says its alright then its alright" pleaaseeeee its not everyday that we get a guy who both thinks that he's the shit and is actually some more powerful guy's lapdog and doesn't mind it. I want him to be gay about it, like, Darkstripe and Fake Zilch levels of gay. I can make him so fucked up. I wanted to include another sentence but my life flashed before my eyes as I typed this I think I shall keep that shit to myself if I value my following

Why is the SHSL impostor here why did nobody tell him that he can stop impersonating Togami already

I don't give a fuck about any of the other guys aside from Zero & Kazuma. I will only ever check out Tribe Nine (on youtube) in order to look at every single scene with Zero and Kazuma and then be done I don't care for the other guys and especially the gameplay

If I had to pick a main character to care about aside from the aforementioned honorary blorbos, like, if I had a gun to my head, I'll pick dollar store Shinigami

#mine #ask #yomipost #ashpost #<- blurring. with our powers combined #thl tag

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