#accepting any alternative ideas for who would be who !!!

[chonkymoth]

I'd like to present an idea to the masses...........

[alchemistc]

He's been good. He's been - pretending to be good well enough that no one has been suspicious.

It's just -

That was it. That was The One.

And sure. He can get back out into the world. He can fall in love again. There is a beautiful man somewhere out in the world who will make him laugh, make him cry.

He's just not sure he wants to put the effort in anymore.

For a hot second he'd really thought -

Not that it matters, anymore.

He's pretty sure his leg is pinned. The cockpit is more smoke than air, at this point. He can feel his toes, but honestly that might be more a curse than a blessing.

He's been staring at the phone in his hand for the last five minutes. Ever since he realized he didn't have the leverage to try to move the bracket keeping him from slipping free of the broken, crunched in door frame.

It's selfish. It's the most selfish fucking thing he's considered since he decided to break his own heart instead of letting someone else.

But logistically he's got about seven minutes until there's too much smoke and not enough air in here, and that's only IF the fire doesn't catch somewhere else.

He's got enough bars. And there are two numbers he could call. Two ways this could go.

The phone rings through four times, and on the fifth, someone answers.

"This is a bad time, Tommy," Eddie says, and Tommy feels a little hysterical. The laughter comes in fits, only slows when he gets a nice good whiff of smoke straight up his nose.

"Sure is."

The tone shifts. "Are you okay?"

"It was a bad idea anyway."

He feels woozy. Glances down at his leg and realizes that stain he'd thought was shadow is... definitely blood.

"Listen. I'm - when Evan gets the call, don't let him go alone. It's my fault for not updating my ICE."

The silence on the other line is deafening. "Tommy, where are you? Don't - don't make any decisions you can't come back from." It's a panned line he'd heard at the VA the half dozen times he'd gone.

"Yeah I didn't really make this decision myself. I'm just - I'm losing a lot of blood, here, and there's not a lot of ways for the smoke to get out of this cabin, and -."

High alert has a very specific sound and feel to it.

Eddie's cursing, something is shuffling, he's snapping his fingers in the distance. God, they're probably at work. "Where are you?"

Tommy rattles off his last known coordinates. "I already told dispatch, Eddie. I'm just. They're not gonna make it in time, and I need you to promise me you won't let him be alone when -."

It'd been a trip he would have been riding shotgun for, if Tommy hadn't made sure he wasn't. He's grateful for that, at least.

He's really not expecting much, he thinks. Eddie doesn't have to go far out of his way to support Buck. It'll hurt him, true. But Tommy's gotten pretty used to being the cause of that. And. He'll be dead, anyway, so he won't have to carry that guilt for long.

And then Eddie betrays whatever vestige of friendship they had left, because it's not Eddie's voice that responds.

"Hey asshole. Do you have enough leverage to break the window?"

He's got a good voice. A little gruff, a little heavy.

Tommy doesn't want this.

"No."

"Actually no, or are you just accepting your fate again without even talking about alternatives."

It's not how he thought he'd go. Dramatic final hour phone call, the end of their relationship as a metaphor for the bleakness of his situation. "I'm sorry, Buck."

He's having trouble focusing his eyes. There's a beat behind his ears that keeps slowing down. He thinks he might be hearing sirens but -

"Evan," Tommy says for the first time in six months. "I'm so sorry, Evan."

He says - something. The tone of it is there, even if he can't quite make out the words.

Tommy blinks. Coughs.

There's a phone in his hands.

Why is there a phone in his hands, he's supposed to be flying a -

He'd crashed it, actually.

Well shit.

Damn.

Eddie's gonna be so pissed if he has to find out second hand that Buck's going to get a really fucking shitty call in a few hours.

He should call.

---

When he blinks open his eyes, he finds his fingers first, nearly has a panic attack when they don't move they way he wants them to, except - oh.

There are fingers interlocked with his.

Tommy follows the line of the arm, even though he knows.

"Sorry," Evan says, and there are tears unshed at the corners of his eyes but he looks mad as hell. "You only get one dramatic exit out of my life in a calendar year."

[strangersteddierthings]

Jealousy Looks Different On You

[Part One] ✨ [Part Two] ✨ [Part Three] ✨ [You Are Here]

Steve was a romantic, once upon a time. Twenty-year-old Steve would have swooned at Eddie's words, at the idea that love is enough. However, Steve is not twenty anymore. Steve is thirty-one with a string of failed relationships. He's always been one to fall hard and fall fast and if love truly was enough, Steve would have made it work by now.

Because he loves Eddie, but it's not like he's only loved Eddie. It's not like Steve's been living a celibate life full of longing and pining and sorrow. He'd loved Nancy, back in high school. Candy, his first girlfriend here in Chicago, had his heart for eight months before she moved away; they'd even debated long distance but, in the end, knew it wouldn't work. Sarah, Mary, Savannah; after coming out there was Mark and Dylan. All of whom he loved while still loving Eddie.

What was the point in pining after someone who didn't want him back?

He'd even had a long-term boyfriend, Brian, for two years that Steve thought would be forever, until the breakup he never saw coming. Because Steve never saw them coming. He was in love. Why would he look for signs that his relationship was ending?

"Eddie, I can't. If we don't work out- I can keep going as we are. You're one of my best friends. I know how to manage, it's- we'll be good as we are," Steve says, finally ending his pacing by dropping back onto his spot on the couch.

"I can't," Eddie says, words uncharacteristically soft and quiet.

"What?" Steve asks, voice laced with hurt and confusion, feeling like ice has been poured down his back. What does Eddie mean he can't? Can't what? He braves a look at Eddie to find he looks devastated, eyes wet and his pouty lips downturned.

"I can't," Eddie repeats and it's his turn to stand from the couch, to pace the living room that was once his too. "I- Jesus Christ Steve, you've had fucking, what, years? To accept that- years of thinking we'd never be together. All this time thinking I knew but didn't want you back.

"I didn't get that. I had, fucking hell, I never let myself accept that you might actually want me back. I haven't- I can't learn that we might have a chance and just not take it. How can you ask that of me? You're all I've fucking wanted for-forever, and I can't- I don't- Why didn't you ever ask me if I was interested in you?" Eddie's voice cracks on the last sentence.

And Steve should probably feel bad for Eddie, should understand what he's feeling, but all he feels is angry. It hits quick and fast, and all feelings of ice are gone. "Ask you? Ask you!? Why the fuck would I have done that when you've never, not once since I've known you, hesitated to go after who you want!? You don't hesitate to grab someone and drag them to the dance floor at the bar, you don't hesitate to ask for what you want, don't hesitate to go on and on about all the things you want in a partner; a list, by the way, that I don't fulfill. A list I'll never live up to!"

Steve doesn't remember doing it, but at some point in his rant he's stood again. The coffee table separates them as Steve yells out his frustrations. He doesn't want to be yelling at Eddie, though. The alternative is to cry, and Steve feels his throat grow thick as he finishes in a quieter tone, "You-You throw yourself at everyone who isn't me. Use me to make them jealous so they'll make the first move. How was I supposed to ask you if you'd ever want me when you made it- made it seem like you never would?"

"I- I was trying to make someone jealous enough to make the first move, but it wasn't- fuck, Steve, it wasn't them."

Steve sniffles, trying to will himself to not fully cry, "if that didn't work the first time, why did you think it would work any of the other times?"

"It's not- I wasn't ever expecting it to work. I just- I don't even know what I was thinking, much less expecting. But Steve, please, please believe me. I want to be with you. Please, give me, us, a chance," Eddie begs.

Jesus Christ. How often has Steve daydreamed about this? About Eddie showing up and confessing and begging Steve to give him a chance? A pathetic amount, surely, yet Steve can't bring himself to follow the script of his daydream. In the dream, Steve accepts; pulls Eddie into a kiss that makes them both dizzy.

This isn't a daydream, though. This is his life, real life, and Steve has things he won't compromise on now.

"Eddie, I... I want to. I used to dream that we'd get a chance, but I, I have other dreams, too. Ones I'm not willing to give up. Not even for you."

"I'm in," Eddie jumps to say, "whatever you want, whatever your dreams, they'll be mine, too."

Fuck, Eddie's not making this easy, is he? Steve wishes he could believe him. Steve wants to believe him. "I want to buy a house in a small town, or on the outskirt of a bigger city. With a yard, for a puppy."

Eddie is nodding quickly because these demands are easy to agree to. It's the last bit that Steve's not sure Eddie wants.

"The house has to be at least four bedrooms. Because I want to be a dad. I want kids."

Eddie doesn't nod to that, which Steve was expecting. He shouldn't be disappointed and yet.

"I never... I've never thought I'd be a dad," Eddie says slowly.

"I've always wanted to be one."

Eddie makes the first move, stepping around the coffee table that separates them, to get close to Steve. "I know. Sweetheart, I know," he says, reaching out for Steve, and Steve lets him. Eddie reaches out with his left hand to grasp one of Steve's hands, and the other hand reaches up to Steve's face. Steve closes his eyes, accepting, and Eddie cups his cheek so tenderly it forces a hiccupped sob from Steve, and Eddie swipes away the tear that fell when he closed his eyes.

"I know you'll be an amazing dad. And if you're with me, I think I'll be an okay one."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes snap open to look at Eddie. Both their eyes are wet. Steve searches his face, looking for what, he doesn't even know. A sign that Eddie means what he says, probably, but it's not something Steve will be able to find just from looking.

It's only something Steve can fully accept and believe by Eddie proving it.

"Please, Steve. I'll make every dream you have come true if you let me. I love you."

Steve swallows thickly before saying, "You can't flirt with other people, to try and make me jealous. It's fine if you flirt like you used to, harmless and playful, but not- You can't do that anymore. I won't- I can't watch that again."

"Why would I even want to, if I have you?"

What a fucking charmer. "I- Okay. Okay. We have... we have a lot more to talk about, but if you're serious-"

"As a demobat bite."

"And we'll- we'll have to take it slow. Because I can't- I can't just dive in because if we don't work, I can't-"

"As slow as you need," Eddie promises, and Steve doesn't think he's ever seen Eddie looks this serious.

"Okay. Let's try." Steve can't bring himself to say 'I love you' back, even though Eddie knows. For real, now. It's what got them into this situation but saying it now feels big. Too big, too fast, too much. There are more conversations to be had and things to plan for before Steve will feel like he can say it again.

Steve expects Eddie to kiss him, but he doesn't. Eddie pulls him into a tight hug, clinging to Steve like letting go will kill him.

Steve holds back just as tight.

-

This is where I'll end it! A hopeful ending for the boys <3

@xxbottlecapx @im-sam-fucking-winchester @novacorpsrecruit @thewickedkat @dreamy-jeans137 @everywherenothere @hangingupinthehallway @estrellami-1 @queenie-ofthe-void @dreamsteddie @acowardinmordor @steviesummer @kinryuuki @genderless-spoon @paperbackribs @steddiecameraroll @yesdangerpls @jackiethevampireslayer @skitchskatchbat @sani-86 @exasperatedsighohmy @tinyplanet95 @chaotic-waffle

[loudstan]

You promised

Summary: Jisung unlocked a new fear: you leaving him.

Pairing: Werewolf Jisung X noona female reader

Warnings: smut, insecurities, jealousy, mentions of baby traping, switch Jisung, handcuffs, some angst (you know me)

Note: the first scene takes place during Chenle’s story, so if you haven’t read that one it may be confusing, but you don’t need it. And to my followers: thanks for waiting! This is just a short scenario to get back into writing and grammar/spelling wasn’t checked but oh what the hell, enjoy!

“A WHAT?!”

Jisung's usually deep and quiet voice turned into an uncharacteristic squeal as a response to what his best friend had just confessed. Any other day he would have immediately apologized to the other customers, who jumped and turned around, surprised at his sudden yell, but he was so scandalized that all he cared about right now was for Chenle to tell him he had misheard him.

“A memory loss spell…,” Chenle repeated, his eyes looking empty as he took another sip of beer.

“WHA–,” Jisung caught himself before he could scare everyone in the pub again and proceeded by lowering his voice. “But you two are mated!”

Chenle nodded slowly. “And we are so bad at it that our pack leader himself told us we were better off never seeing each other again. Forgetting the other ever exists.”

Jisung opened and closed his mouth dumbly before trying to come up with an alternative solution. “You guys j-just need some time and–”

“We've been together for months, Jisung. She…,” Chenle sighed and entangled his fingers in his hair with frustration. “She hates me…”

There was a moment of agonizing silence until Jisung's own eyes became watery when he heard a quiet sob coming from Chenle.

“But…” the younger one insisted. “It was so hard for you two to get together…you c-can't just forget everything…”

“Maybe it was hard because we weren't meant to be together,” Chenle said bitterly, still hiding his face behind his palms, like this would keep the other from finding out tears were rolling down his cheeks. “I literally forced her to stay with me and it still didn't work.”

Jisung’s hand hesitantly reached for one of Chenle's to uncover his face and meet his reddened, swollen eyes. “There has to be another way, Chenle.”

Chenle forced a weak smile. “Yeah? What would you do if your mate hated you so much she wanted to forget you and leave you behind?”

Jisung froze. His brain couldn't even phantom the idea of his mate leaving him. He had assumed once a wolf had bitten his partner they were bonded together forever. He had had a really hard time making you understand that he was serious about you and accepting him as a mate. But now he was finding out that not even the mark on your neck could secure you by his side.

“Why? Did she say something to you?” Jisung finally asked, tightening his grasp on Chenle’s wrist.

“No, why would your mate tell me–?” It was Chenle's turn to be confused. “She and I barely interact unless you're around. You know that.”

“Then why would you say that?” The younger wolf insisted, not letting go of the other.

“I was just asking what you would do if she wanted to leave–”

“She won't,” Jisung stated. “She fucking won't.”

“I'm not saying she will!” Chenle insisted, with a frustrated groan and forcing Jisung's fingers to let go of him. “I'm asking for advice! What would you do in this kind of situation?”

Jisung sat back and exhaled shakily, trying to get a grip. Right, you weren't actually leaving him. It was all hypothetical, because you would never ever do that to him. It was impossible, considering the way you looked at him with so much attention and adoration that he often forgot what he wanted to say and blushed like an idiot. Or the way you played with his hair when you cuddled. Or the way you stuttered whenever you paid close attention to his hands. Or the way your body arched when he touched you…

No, he was sure you would never do that to him. But if he ever found out you had such thoughts he would–

“Take her far away,” he murmured, still lost in his thoughts, and not even aware he was saying it out loud. “Somewhere no one else could find us. Just the two of us. And keep her there for as long as I have until she changes her mind. Make sure she needs me the way I need her. Baby trap her if I have to–”

“You're terrified of children,” Chenle pointed out, taking Jisung out of his trance.

JIsung blinked quickly and looked at Chenle with wide eyes. “Huh?”

“Being a dad scares you,” Chenle reminded him, arching his eyebrows inquisitively. “Yet you said you would… baby trap your mate?”

“B-baby–,” Jisung stuttered, blushing. “I didn't…I– did I?”

Chenle squinted at him, momentaneously forgetting about his own problem because something was clearly wrong with Jisung as well. “Are you having your rut anytime soon?”

“Yeah, I–this weekend probably, uh…yeah…”

“That's why you're saying weird things…” Chenle sighed. “You have the most possessive instinct I've ever seen in a werewolf.”

Jisung laughed awkwardly.

Chenle analyzed the younger man as he fidgeted on his chair. For a while now, he had been wondering if they were losing Jisung to his animal side because sometimes he did and said things that his introvert best friend would never.

Should he alert the others? Just in case?

His thoughts were interrupted by Jisung spilling beer all over his clothes and clumsily trying to clean up after himself. Chenle snorted and grabbed some tissues to help him.

What was he even thinking?

Jisung wasn't dangerous.

So Chenle pushed those thoughts away to focus on his own problems with his partner.

Jisung, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about that stupid hypothetical scenario. He kept telling himself that things were fine, that you had shown no sign of wanting to end things and that he had nothing to worry about.

Until the moment his rut was due.

You both had planned to spend it together in your apartment, because he was too shy to do it at his place, with the rest of the pack around. He showed up with a backpack with clothes and some essentials, trembling hands, and a light blush on his cheeks. The implications of what he was here to do made him feel dirty, but at the same time he had been anticipating this all week. His rut hadn’t started yet, but he was already feeling a little feverish and weak, so you made sure to take good care of him by drying his hair after a shower, feeding him something light, and cuddling him to sleep.

You caressed his face gently as he inhaled and exhaled peacefully. He was adorable. It was hard to believe he had presented as an alpha.

You pressed your thighs together at the memories flooding your head. You were feeling a bit needy since the moment he had shown up at your door, but you knew it was better to let him rest during pre-rut, so you pulled away and got up, walking out of the room quietly.

Grabbing your phone and your wallet, you decided to go to a store nearby before it was too late, so you could buy some extra snacks. Last time Jisung had devoured everything he could find in your kitchen once he wasn’t feeling horny anymore, so it was better to be prepared. But as soon as you opened the front door, it was slammed closed by Jisung, who was towering over you from behind.

“Where are you going?” his raspy deep voice asked, panting next to your ear.

“I–,” You tried to turn around to face him but he growled, so you stayed still. “I was g-gonna buy us some snacks–”

“We have plenty,” he said curtly. “You checked earlier.”

“We could get some more, you know, just in case?”

“In case of what?”

“In case you need more food? You’re a big boy and–”

“Man.”

Right, he hated you calling him that. “You’re a grown man,” you rephrased, stressing the word that seemed to be so important to him. “And you may get hungry.”

“Hungry?” he echoed, taking a step back to give you some space to turn around and look into your eyes. He didn’t seem to fully believe you.

“Yes. So don’t worry about it, and go back to bed, okay?” you said, pushing him lightly to guide him back to the bedroom.

But suddenly he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the room with him, locking the door behind him and leaning on it as if he was guarding it.

“You can’t,” he said, barely audibly.

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“You can’t leave me,” he clarified, speaking up slightly. “You s-said– you said you would spend my rut with me.”

“I–, it’s just the store…”

Lies.

“Lies,” Jisung repeated what the voice in his head told him.

“Wha– why would I lie about that?” you asked, cupping his face.

“You can’t forget me,” he pleaded.

“Forget you?”

“You regret this,” he rambles incoherently. “You regret us.”

“No!” you quickly reassured him, pressing your palm more firmly against his fevered cheeks. “Of course not! I love you.”

His gaze softened and he nosed your palm. “Promise?”

“I promise,” you whispered.

Jisung fought the voice in his head telling him that you’re deceiving him. That you’re waiting for him to lower his guard to sneak out and disappear forever.

With a pained groan he pulled you closer by your waist and kissed you urgently, hoping this would shut his wolf up. And it worked, for a moment, because he was very distracted by your tiny gasp and your fingertips grazing his nape.

But it came back quickly. As he walked you back to the bed and pushed you gently on it, his wolf insisted.

She’s playing dumb.

Jisung glared at you, but he didn’t see any malice in your flustered, confused, pretty face. He shook his head, as a way to tell his wolf that he was being stupid and got on top of you occupying himself by placing wet kisses on your neck and collarbone.

You’re a poor excuse of an alpha.

He growled, giving you goosebumps and wondering what had him so worked up.

You think she’ll stay with you, when you’ve barely presented?

She doesn’t actually see you as a man. You have to remind her all the time.

He sucked on your neck and dug his fingers into your waist.

“Jisungie…”

She’s leaving as soon as she finds out about the memory spell.

“Fuck,” he growled, and his fingertips were pressed a little bit too hard on your soft skin.

“Ji, hold on–” you winced, grabbing his hands and trying to soften his grip.

If you don’t do something, she’ll disappear.

“FUCK! I KNOW!” he exclaimed, grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head, catching you by surprise.

You look up at him with wide eyes, wondering what you have done to upset him. His furious expression switches to a remorseful one.

“I–uh…I wasn’t yelling at you, noona…”

“...Then who?” you barely whispered.

“Me…I mean, not me, but…that side of me,” he mumbled.

You gulp and try to free your hands, but his grip tightens. “What is that side of you saying?”

He shook his head. “Nothing, it’s dumb,” he said quickly.

“It’s not dumb if it makes you react like this,” you insist.

He keeps quiet, biting his lip. “Just…don’t go, kay?” he finally says.

You nod. “If we need more food I’ll just order some.”

“No, I don’t mean–,” he sighed. “Not just the store. I mean…in general.”

“Ji, I’m your girlfriend,” you rolled your eyes. “And I literally have your mark on my neck. Where would I go?”

“What if there was a way to leave me, even after being marked?”

“Like what?” you asked, genuinely curious, but he mistook your curiosity for eagerness.

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asked with an accusatory tone.

“Oh my god, Jisung,” you laughed incredulously. “You are the one who brought it up! I just asked a question!”

“Don’t laugh at me, noona,” he warned you, but his voice broke.

At that moment you understood that his pre-rut was probably messing with his head and that he really thought you wanted to leave him.

“How can I prove it to you?” you asked him seriously. “What can I do?”

He licked his lips and his reddened eyes traveled from your face to your captive hands. “I don’t know if it would prove anything, but… it would make me feel…better.”

“Anything,” you encouraged him. “Just tell me what it is.”

“Okay, uh…I’m gonna– c-can you close your eyes?” he asked nervously. “And don’t move,” he added when he freed your hands.

You nodded and closed your eyes, trying to comply with his simple requests, knowing that he was in a very vulnerable state and needed as much reassurance as possible. You felt his presence gone when he got up, his hurried steps, the zipper of his backpack, and what sounded like him looking for something. Then, he hurried back, and you felt the warmth emanating from his body on top of yours, while something tickled your wrists and then, a sudden click sound made you snap your eyes open.

“Jisung?” you opened your eyes to see his hungry gaze fixated on your wrists, which you couldn’t move. You looked up to see both of your hands handcuffed to the bed frame, with a pink fluffy pair of cuffs adorning your wrists like bracelets. “Ji, what–”

“Haechan hyung gave these to me,” he said, sitting back to appreciate the view. “I know he was just trying to mess with me when he packed them in my bag, but…they ended up being useful…”

You laughed nervously. You had never had your movements restricted in this type of context, and Jisung being the one to do it was unexpected. “Ji, there’s no need for this. I told you I won’t go anywhere.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, touching the cuffs and grazing your forearm delicately. “Now you won’t.”

“Then how am I going to touch you?” you pouted, trying to reason with him.

He halted and frowned. He hadn’t considered that. He really liked you touching him, but was it safe to uncuff you now?

Absolutely not.

“Later,” he declared.

“Later when?”

He bit his lip. For him, later meant when your legs were trembling so much you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. “Later,” he repeated.

“Can I at least get a kiss, then?” you asked.

“...You want that?”

“Do I want to kiss my handsome boyfriend? Duh, of course, Ji!”

A timid smile formed on his lips. For a moment he forgot all the negative thoughts that had plagued his mind and all he saw was you, pliant under him, wanting him, loving him.

He leaned closer and placed a soft kiss on your lips, delighted at the way you immediately whined when he pulled away.

“Want more?”

You nodded and he kissed you again, licking your bottom lip suggestively only to pull away again when you parted your lips.

“Ji…”

“Hm?”

“More…”

He complied, kissing you slowly and sensually, occasionally pulling away only to hear you whine and press his lips on yours more urgently than before.

But of course his wolf wasn’t done tormenting him.

She’s trying to free herself.

His hands flew to your wrists to check that the cuffs hadn’t magically opened during your makeout session.

“What are you doing?” he asked agitatedly, as the insecurities started coming back.

“Kissing you?” you breathed out confusedly.

Distracting you.

“You keep pulling at the cuffs,” he said, looking at you like you with wide eyes, like you had betrayed him.

“I didn’t– I didn’t even notice, I–..I just wanted to feel you closer…”

You could tell by his conflicted expression that he didn’t believe it.

“Ji, don’t you trust me?”

His eyes widened and he withdrew his hands. “I…I trust you but…”

He stared at you, opening and closing his mouth dumbly. He trusted you. He loved you. But his stupid rut was making him dumb and his wolf kept telling him that you were still trying to distract him. Maybe it would shut up if he was the one distracting you instead.

Before you could ask him to explain what was wrong, he repositioned himself between your legs and took off your shorts swiftly.

You gasped and tried to close your legs out of reflex, but he held them open effortlessly by grabbing your knees, his eyes fixated on the wet patch on your panties.

“Ji?”

He let out a sound between a moan and a relieved sigh. You were turned on because of him. You weren’t lying when you said you wanted him. He caressed your mound with his fingertips, barely grazing the fabric, but it was enough to have your legs flinching.

Taste her.

Fuck yes, they finally agreed on something. He nodded quickly (to what, you didn’t know) and removed the tiny piece of clothing from you before diving in. He made out with your folds gently, adding his tongue to the formula encouraged by your moans.

“You’re so good at this, Jisungie…” you praised, lost in pleasure.

He moaned and humped the bed, sucking a bit harder.

“Ah!” you gasped, opening your legs wider for him. “Can tell you ate out a lot of girls…”

He shook his head absentmindedly, unconsciously creating a new pattern with his tongue that made you see stars.

“No?” you insisted. “Are you sure?”

His eyebrows furrowed, and he detached his lips from your center to look up at you, confused. Why were you talking about other girls? “What?”

“Just a thought…” you murmured, looking away, a little embarrassed. This was something that had bugged you since your first time with him, but you hadn’t been dating for long and there had been no chance to bring it up. He knew about your past with Jaehyun, but he never mentioned anything about his previous partners. It shouldn’t matter, but you were so curious…and maybe a bit insecure. Now you felt silly. “It’s nothing–”

“Tell me,” he commanded. His voice was soft, but firm.

You sighed. “Remember our first time together?”

He hummed and kissed your inner thigh. How could he forget?

“Well…you uh…acted like you knew exactly what to do…”

He blushed. “Oh…”

“Yep…” you nodded, waiting for him to admit to his promiscuous past.

“I just–I read online what girls like…” he hesitated. “I watched some videos too…I wasn’t too sure about what you would be into, so I just did whatever that felt right…”

“There’s no way that was the first time you gave someone head,” you said incredulously.

“It was…”

“You even made me sit on your face!”

He groaned, pressing his hips harder on the mattress at the memory. “Did you like it?”

“Y-yes, but…”

“It was so good…” he whispered, going back to flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh…” you arched your back and tried to remember what you were talking about.

“T-then…to the other girls, the ones before me–”

“There’s no one before you,” he said between licks.

“R-right, like a guy like you doesn’t–ah! d-doesn’t have girls lining up to suck you off…”

He paused and looked up at you again. “Noona, are you…jealous?”

You could feel your ears getting hot at the accusation and looked away.

“You are!” he exclaimed. He sounded relieved. Happy even.

She’s possessive of you too.

The sound of his laugh angered you a little, but you couldn’t think of a comeback with the way he suddenly sucked your clit into his mouth and moaned loudly.

“AH! F-fuck!” you moaned, fighting the cuffs uselessly.

He circled your clit with his tongue a few times before going down a little to circle your entrance. You squealed when his tongue entered you, drinking all you had to offer. His eyes rolled back when he felt you contracting around the slippery muscle, and he went deeper, rubbing his nose on your clit just enough to make you come with a gasp, releasing directly in his mouth.

He licked you clean softly until your legs were shaking, landing one last kiss on your hip and resting his head on your stomach before he spoke again. “You’re the only one I’ve done this with, noona.”

You breathed out shakily. “What about o-other things?”

“Went on a few dates when I was a teen. Nothing serious,” he admitted. “And there was this girl…she gave me a handjob a couple of years ago…”

You felt your stomach drop. Jealousy really was an ugly feeling. But you tried not to sound too disappointed. “Oh, that’s…nice…”

“I moaned your name,” he confessed.

“You WHAT?!”

“I had already imprinted on you,” he mumbled, drawing figures with his finger on your belly. “I was really horny but you wouldn’t even look at me. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to try…maybe gain some experience…but it didn’t feel good and I uh– couldn’t cum until I thought about you and then–yeah…”

“...That’s it?”

“Well, she told everyone I was small down there after that incident, so not many girls tried to approach me. I didn’t want anyone else so it worked out great, I guess…” he murmured, kissing his way back to your center. “And then I finally got to make you mine…”was the last thing he said before he started eating you out again.

“Jisung! Hold on, w-wait–” you squirmed under him, because there was no way he was planning to keep going when you were still sensitive from the previous orgasm.

“Don’t move,” he groaned.

“I think one w-was enough–ah!”

“But you said I was good,” he reasoned, giving you a long lick.

“Y-you are, Ji, you’re s’ good b-but– Oh, my g-god!” you moaned when he gave your clit little kitten licks that added to the painful pleasure. “Jisung, Jisungie, please–”

He circled your thighs with his arms and sucked hard, chuckling when you screamed his name.

She’s perfect like this.

“Ji, p-please, please,” you mumbled, shaking like a leaf at the new orgasm approaching too fast, too strong, too much–”JISUNG! F–...Aaah!”

He hummed, approving of the embarrassing sound that escaped your lips as you came in record time because of him. He rutted the bed and his dick twitched at the thought of doing it again and again–

“Jisungie, no m-more…” you begged, tugging at the cuffs desperately.

He sighed and climbed up to grab your wrists. “Stop that,” he warned you. “I told you already: you can’t leave.”

“I’m not trying to leave,” you whined.

“Then stop squirming and let me make you feel good,” he said, trying to go down on you again only for you to quickly close your legs and turn to your side. “Noona!”

You shook your head and he growled, easily manhandling your legs open for him to fit between them once again.

“Enough,” he said, his voice sounding deeper, dangerous. His red eyes and his body temperature made it clear that his rut was about to start, and his alpha instinct was not happy with your behavior. “You’re my mate,” he reminded you, like you could ever forget that.

You nodded.

She’s yours.

“You’re mine,” he said, pinching the soft skin of your thigh.

“Y-yes…,” you whimpered.

You can–

“--Taste you as many times as I want,” he declared, starting to lower his head again.

“BUT–But I want to taste you too,” you said quickly.

Jisung visually malfunctioned, halting his movement and looking at you with wide eyes, then frowning like he thought you may be deceiving him.

“Please, Ji, don’t you want my mouth?”

He could feel the precum staining his pajama pants. “Noona’s mouth?”

Instead of replying, you parted your lips, opening wide and sticking your tongue out slightly, all while maintaining eye contact with him and being cuffed to the bed. No video online had prepared Jisung for such a view.

He had never moved so fast in his life, straddling your chest and pulling the elastic of his pants down just enough for his erection to pop out.

“Want it,” he panted, placing his hips closer to your face. When he felt the first lick on the tip he moaned loudly, grabbing onto the very same bed frame you were cuffed to for support. “Yes, noona, please– Oh!”

You circled the head with your tongue playfully before bobbing your head slightly, loving the way his abdomen contracted and his head fell back in pleasure.

“I love your mouth so much, noona–” he rambled, trying his best (and failing miserably) not to thrust his hips into the delicious warmth.”C-can you take some more?? Just a little–Ooohh yes, yes–Ah!”

You felt a little bad for all those girls who blindly believed he had a small dick and avoided him in the past, because they clearly missed out, but at the same time you were thankful that only you could see him like this. You had never been too possessive but for him… you obviously were.

He lowered his hips even more, caging you under him and starting to fuck into your mouth. “I’m gonna—just ah…just like this– you don’t mind, yeah, noona?”

You moaned, making his legs tremble due to the pleasurable vibrations. “Fuuuck,” he groaned, grabbing your hair with one of his hands to keep you in place as he went faster, deeper. “Yeah, noona, like t-that ah, ah, haa…” he let out a whimper when you gagged.

It felt so good he just had to use his other hand too, now grabbing your head with both of them to bring you impossibly closer. You choked and teared up when your nose touched his navel, and nothing could describe the bliss that took over him, finally cumming down your throat with a deep groan.

“Oh–Ooohhh, f-fuck…”

You coughed and whined when he finally let go of your head, trying to calm down the burning sensation in your throat. Once the tears subsided and you were able to focus again, you noticed that your boyfriend’s hard cock was still on your face, as he jerked off furiously.

“Haa, haa…” he panted heavily, getting off at the beautiful sight under him.

“Jisung–” you were interrupted by your own gasp at the drops landing on your face.

“Aaah!” he moaned, forcing himself to keep his eyes open to watch his cum paint your face. “Pretty, s-so pretty…” he sighed, finally slowing down to a stop and climbing off you…and going straight back to eating you out.

“NO!” You shrieked, squirming and kicking.

“You’re wet again,” he pointed out, not bothered by your aimless kicks, still licking your folds.

“Of course I’m wet! I’m with you,” you tried to defend yourself.

He let out a soft moan. “You can’t say something like that and not expect me to pleasure you until you go numb.”

“I want you to fuck me!” you whined, making him malfunction for the second time in a day.

“Yeah?” he breathed out, boring his eyes into you.

“Please, alpha,fuck me–”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Actually, you couldn’t even finish the sentence before he was sitting up and sliding into you, causing you to let out a broken moan. It had been a couple of weeks since you last had him inside of you like this. Not because you weren’t horny, but because he insisted on letting you rest as much as possible before his rut to avoid hurting you. But what he achieved instead was to make both of you lose your minds as soon as he entered you.

“Haa…” he let out a shaky breath, pulling out and pushing back in weakly, fighting the dizziness that took over his body.

You tugged again, desperately wanting to touch him. “Ji, take these off,” you begged.

He shook his head. “I like you like this,” he admitted, fucking into you again.

You whined. “I want them off!” you insisted.

“And I want to keep you tied to the bed forever,” he whispered, drunk in pleasure and lust, accelerating the movement of his hips to have you moaning weakly. “Pumping you full again, a-and again–Mmh…waking you up with m-my tongue that y-you like aah…you like s’much…”

You curled your legs around his waist, bringing your bodies closer together and he sobbed.

“N-noona…Close–” he admitted, embarrassed. There was something so arousing about having you so vulnerable under him, with no choice but to take everything he gave you.

Pups.

He gasped and stilled his hips, much to your dismay. You tried to move under him, tried to make him hit that spot again, but he quickly grabbed your hips too and kept them in place.

“One s-second, noona…” he said with a pained tone.

“It’s okay, Ji, I’m close too,” you assured him, not knowing what the real problem was.

“That’s not–”

Give her your pups.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered, looking at your belly.

Now, before she tries to leave again.

He quickly looked at your wrists which already had some marks due to the chaffing of the cuffs, and then back at your stomach.

“Jisung?” you asked nervously. Something was off with him since he arrived. He looked like he was constantly fighting something, but what?

He finally looked into your eyes, and his were clouded with tears.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Do your wrists hurt?” he asked back, his voice barely audible.

“Oh,” you had forgotten about it for a minute. “Just a little,” you admitted. “But if it makes you feel more at ease…”

As soon as you said you felt pain, even if it was just a little, he reached for the key on the nightstand and unlocked the handcuffs. He waited anxiously for your next move, but you immediately grabbed onto him, pulling his upper body towards you and hugging him tightly.

You felt him sigh on your neck and pepper it with kisses. “You’re staying?”

“Of course I am,” you said. “Do you trust me?” you asked once again.

He nodded.

“Then I want you to relax and let me do something, okay?”

He nodded again, but he tensed when he felt you push against his chest.

“It’s okay,” you assured him.

He slowly relaxed and let you move, and in a few seconds you had him on his back with you on top, his hard cock still pulsating inside of you. With wild eyes, he moaned softly at the sight. Having you under him was hot, but you on top was crazy. He didn’t think he could choose. His hands immediately held onto your waist as you started bouncing on his cock hard and fast. If he was close before, he was going to explode now.

Cum inside.

He whined, but he didn’t have the strength nor the will to stop you. Instead, he thrust up into you, trying to ignore his wolf’s words. He looked up at you, eyes full of doubt.

“Wanna cum inside, baby boy?” you purred, feeling your climax approach again.

Yesyesyesyes…

His mouth opened into a silent moan, and he nodded.

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss, moaning as he held you in place to take his thrusts.

Fuck her until it takes.

He shook his head. “Noona’s on the pill,” he mumbled against your lips, licking your lips and swallowing your moans while saying (what you thought were) incoherent words. “‘s okay, it;s okay it’s…It’s s-safe…”

“That’s what’s been bothering you?” you laughed softly, kissing his cheek lovingly. “It’s not the first t-time we do this, y-you know it’s safe–AH!”

It wasn’t the first time you slept together, but it was the first time his wolf asked asked for pups and Jisung was freaking out because now was a terrible moment to be a dad but —

“Noona, noona, noona–oh, oh, oh–OOOHH!”

He let go, and his knot finally started forming, keeping you both in place while he filled you with his seed, and his wolf purred with delight. You rutted against his pelvis a couple of times until your own body trembled with pleasure, collapsing on top of him and into his arms. He held you tightly and let you rest for a bit. After all, this had just been his pre-rut. You both needed to rest before the actual rut started.

Pups…

He nodded, smiling dumbly and allowing himself to enjoy this fantasy only this time.

[f1shart]

thinking about buzz beating up the curious brothers again. like what do you mean

but buzz is older than them?? time to dissect this (and by that i mean overly complicate it!!)

Making Sense of Buzz Grunt Beating the Shit Out of the Curious Brothers (and Loki)

I went into this assuming that, considering how old Buzz is, him beating up the Curious brothers + Loki as a teenager was statistically impossible, especially considering their age in actual human years—but was I wrong? Is it actually possible that Buzz did fight them within the time he spent as a teenager?

First, some supporting information.

Age Conversions Based on Adult Lifestage

Buzz: Day 14 or 43 years old Pascal: Day 10 or 38 years old Loki: Day 9 or 36 years old Vidcund: Day 6 or 32 years old Lazlo: Day 1 or 25 years old

These aren't even my own age headcanons for them (except Buzz's which is surprisingly accurate), just calculations. If you want to know how I got them then feel free to ask 😇

Evidence Provided by Memories

As seen in the picture, Buzz fought everyone "as soon as he aged up." However, it's possible he just has no memories of early teenhood.

Pascal similarly gained the memory as soon as he aged up. This idea is more plausible with him because he was accepted into private high school after the fact. Sure, in gameplay, this can happen as late as the last day as a teenager, but I doubt this is what Maxis was trying to convey since they literally handpicked these memories. Meaning: Buzz beat him up in middle school…?

Loki's only teen memory is losing the fight.

According to the Sims Wiki, Vidcund has no memory of Buzz beating him up (how hard did he hit him?)

Similar to Loki and Pascal, Lazlo's first memory as a teenager is getting beat up by Buzz.

Is This Possible In Normal Gameplay?

Disregarding any other family memories that arose around the time (I do NOT want to try to decipher the entire Curious timeline), the fight memories are in fact possible with their Sim ages.

The teen lifespan in The Sims 2 is 15 days long. Buzz is 4 days older than Pascal, 5 days older than Loki, 8 days older than Vidcund, and 13 days older than Lazlo.

Ensuring that everyone still falls within the teen lifestage, I made a table of the earliest and latest possible ages everyone could have been when Buzz attacked:

Converting their teen days into human years, Buzz either beat them all up as an 18 year old OR slowly picked them off until age 17 which is right before he kissed Lyla. None of this, however, is possible based on the initial age calculations.

Buzz's Attacks Based On the Adult Age Conversions

Buzz is 5 years older than Pascal, 7 years older than Loki, 11 years older than Vidcund, and 18 years older than Lazlo. There are two ways we can interpret their memories: either the Curious brothers + Loki were teenagers when Buzz attacked, or Buzz was a teenager when he started attacking them.

On the basis that Buzz is still a teenager, and assuming each fight happened in close proximity to one another, he specifically had to have been 18 years old when each one happened. This makes Pascal a 13 year old, Loki an 11 year old, Vidcund a 7 year old, and Lazlo…a newborn. ☠️ Alternatively, Buzz may have started younger and continued fighting until 18, the only teen year he could have possibly encountered Lazlo in.

If that seems implausible, then maybe Buzz wasn't a teenager and instead beat the boys up as soon as they turned thirteen. This would make him 18 for Pascal, 20 for Loki, 24 for Vidcund, and 31 for Lazlo. (Side note: Tank and Ripp would have been born by then.)

Conclusion

Regardless of whether you base it on Buzz been a teen or the victims being teens, him beating up Lazlo looks pretty bad. And if you go by gameplay rules, everything flows surprisingly well. According to normal gameplay AND real-life age conversions, Buzz is a big meanie who beat up at least one kid as a legal adult, at least with the age conversion system I used…

Me personally, I think he was college-aged when he started bullying them. (Or maybe they attacked him? Plot twist.) Of course, what I discussed weren't the only possibilities, but they should give a good idea of how things actually went… and maybe they can inspire your own headcanons! ^_^

this is such a useless pseudo-essay LMFAOO

[torchwood-99]

Eowyn and Romance

Something I truly appreciate about Eowyn is that she, from the start, a romantic being, and (although not explicitly so) a sexual one, as in she obviously feels both romantic and sexual desires.

Often the rebellious female lead will chafe at the prospect of marriage, only to change her mind when the "right man" comes along. I tire of this narrative, not because I begrudge female characters who dislike the idea of romance and marriage and sees hem as the antithesis to freedom, but because I loathe the narrative of them "learning a lesson" and "mending their ways".

Marriage and romance, when both are unwanted, are a denial of freedom and autonomy, and in patriarchal societies where wife is subservient to husband, particularly so.

Eowyn however associates romantic love and marriage not to a lack of freedom, but an escape to it. And this makes sense when we consider the cage that Eowyn is kept in.

Eowyn already takes on the "domestic" burden of the wife, running her uncle's household and acting as his nurse. As his niece, his adopted daughter and his subject, Eowyn is in a position of utter subservience to him. Yet as his nurse, he is dependant upon her.

This does not balance out their relationship and result in some sort of equality, it means that Eowyn has to endure all the submission of being a dependant, without the relief from obligations or duties, and all the labours and responsibilities of being a provider, without any of the authority or power.

Although Eowyn is mistress of the hall, she is not mistress of her own hall. She is not a queen, and if Theodred, later Eomer, were to wed, her rank as leading lady would be supplanted.

As Theoden's nurse, she is also carrying the burden of being the family caretaker in the family, tending to Theoden's needs, and also stifling her own unhappiness before her family in order to fulfil her duty. Emotionally she is trapped, stuck by tending to the feelings of others, as much as she is physically.

All of this has resulted in Meduseld becoming a cage for Eowyn.

To be married would be to take her away from Meduseld. To be married would be to lift her from an estate she finds demeaning. To be married would be to be mistress of her own home.

And when we look at the men she is attracted to, and the qualities that attract her, we see how different the sort of love and relationship she hopes to have are to the one she has with Theoden.

Aragorn and Faramir are strong, and powerful in a way that Theoden has not been. Eowyn's sense of identity has been tied up in Theoden, so Theoden's infirmity and, by her understanding, his "shame" has become her own, helped along by Grima's manipulation. On a more practical level, Theoden's dependency on her is extremely limiting to her own freedom and opportunities.

Eowyn is immediately attracted to Aragorn because of his power, and Faramir's strength of a warrior is one of the first things she notices about him. To be joined in a union with them would be to be associated with their power. To be married to them would be to have a function and existence beyond that off dry nurse.

While Aragorn and Faramir are noted to be fierce warriors, they're gentle too, Faramir in particular is defined more by gentleness than he is warrior prowess. He is a warrior by necessity, a nurturer by nature. As the assigned caretaker of her family, to be married to someone who would take equal (if not outright greater) responsibility for both of their physical and emotional welfare is pivotal for Eowyn to gain her freedom.

Whereas marriage is often seen as the alternative to ambition, romance an alternative to fighting, when Eowyn offers her love to Aragorn, acceptance would not have taken the form of marriage, but of joining him on his ride to the Paths of the Dead. For Eowyn, to be a warrior is to be free, and her vision of life with Aragorn is that of two warriors, side by side. That is how she envisions marriage.

Although post war Eowyn turns towards healing as opposed to slaying, Faramir acknowledges Eowyn as a warrior, and celebrates her for her deeds and her valour. And while Eowyn no longer wishes to be a shieldmaiden, taking joy "only" in the songs of slaying (that "only" suggesting that she will still take joy in them, and will maintain a part of her shieldmaiden identity), the desire to heal, to grow things, is a wish shared with Faramir, and when they embark on that journey, it's one they do as equals.

Eowyn has been pigeonholed into the role of family caretaker, and her family sees her entirely through that lens. As a result, they not only fail to see her true desires and ambitions, they not only fail to acknowledge her as a warrior, but they also fail to fully appreciate that she needs care, emotional care, in turn.

It is Eowyn's duty to give care, not receive it. It is Eowyn's duty to facilitate their deeds, not achieve her own. It is Eowyn's duty to celebrate their feats, not be celebrated in turn.

And Eowyn performs this role, she allows them to maintain this view of herself by internalising her unhappiness, her frustration and despair, because she sees it as a her duty to do so.

She finally drops the performance in front of Aragorn, and reveals to him just how as despairing she is. Aragorn does not fail to see beyond Eowyn's mask, and in his speech in the Houses of Healing shows he acknowledges both her suffering and her courage, but he does not free her.

He instructs her to resume the performance, and to try to content herself with one more doing all the labours that no one remembers, the valour that goes without renown.

Faramir meets Eowyn, and he sees she is wounded, she is sorrowful, he sees she is proud, he sees she is beautiful, he sees she is a maiden, "young and sad".

When Faramir is falling in love with Eowyn, he notices she looks "queenly", suitable for one whose deeds have put her, in Aragorn's words, on an even standing with the queens of old.

When Faramir asks Eowyn to marry him, he tells her he does not pity her, because she is a "lady high and valiant" and has performed deeds that will not be forgotten.

When Eowyn says she wishes to become a healer, and love all things that grow, Faramir eagerly agrees, and says, if she wills it, they will go to Ithilien and grow a garden there, and all things will grow with joy in Eowyn's presence.

Faramir sees all aspects of Eowyn. Eowyn the sorrowful. Eowyn the beautiful. Eowyn the queen. Eowyn the valiant. Eowyn the legend. Eowyn the healer. Eowyn the gardener.

Faramir sees all these parts of Eowyn, and one is not diminished by the other. Her valour isn't compromised by her vulnerability. Her need for care isn't compromised by her ability to lead.

This is reciprocated on Eowyn's part. Beregond bemoans that people fail to appreciate Faramir's capabilities as a warrior, because he is b nature more of a scholar and a nurturer. Eowyn immediately notices Faramir's strength and his gentleness, she is able to see the multitudes in him that she wishes to have seen in her.

It is notable she meets Faramir at a time when both of them are injured. Faramir is in a place of vulnerability as Theoden was, but Faramir is under the care of the healers. Eowyn's company helps to heal him, he wishes her to walk with him because he thinks it will be a comfort to be with her, but the bulk of his care is shared out by trained healers, for whom treating the sick is a profession, a calling perhaps, but not a familial duty that defines every facet of their existence.

Eowyn does not choose to be with Faramir in the place of choosing freedom. She chooses Faramir because the love he offers, the understanding he offers, the capabilities he possesses, will free her, in a way that Eowyn has been desiring and longing for.

[cherriies-snake]

But I like it!! ⋆˚꩜｡

PAIRING : Sam Monroe x Curly/Wayvy!reader

WORDS : 1.1 k.

WARNINGS : Reader insecure about her hair.

“Sunshine, do you believe in love at first curl? cause I’m hooked. Now, Sam truly believes that angels have curly hair."

Sam Monroe is your best friend, so it was no surprise that he was always at your house. Clearly, today wasn't the exception. You both had developed a strong bond since you had been friends since preschool.

Who would have thought that sharing half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the kid who forgot his lunch would be a great way to start a wonderful and unbreakable friendship?

Obviously, if you ask Sam, he wouldn't have any problem with breaking the friendship, you know, in that way.

You had just gotten out of the shower, so you were sitting at the vanity in your room, about to struggle to make your hair look decent for once in your life, without looking like one of those clowns that wear a giant rainbow wig.

All the products you always used to define your hair were scattered across the surface of the vanity, brushes, creams, mousse, gel, and even serum. All the products were open and kind of spilling from use since everything always ended up in a sticky mess, and you were too lazy to clean it up.

"Why do you have so much stuff for your hair? Looks like you're scared of going bald."

Sam asked with a smug smile from the comfort of your bed, which was something adorable to watch from your perspective because his black clothes made a huge contrast with your pastel colored sheets, not to mention your army of stuffed animals.

(Where there was also a cute Rilakkuma plushie that Sam had given you for your birthday.)

"You're also at a good age to avoid the receding hairline you might inherit."

You replied with the same sarcasm he always used with you, and you could see how his smug expression turned into a look of pure horror and panic as he dramatically ran his hands through his hair, looking for any possible bald spot.

"Don't ever mention that shit again, I don't want to have nightmares about bald patches on my head."

Hearing his comment, you couldn't help but laugh out loud. Oh, you would definitely remind him about it for the rest of his life.

"There are other alternatives, don't worry, you can always wear a wig, Sammy!"

He immediately rolled his eyes in response as he sat on the edge of your bed to watch better what you were doing.

"But seriously, what’s all that crap for? I never see you using all that."

He asked curiously from his new position.

He was right, you almost never defined your hair unless it was for an important occasion or something like that because you found your curls very annoying to manage.

This time was no different because Sam had told you that tomorrow both of you were going to take a walk on the beach and eat an ice cream, so you wanted your hair to look nice and not like you had just woken up.

Usually, you always styled your hair somehow without leaving it loose, that’s why you always ended up with a messy bun on your head and some loose strands, because you had the idea that when you wore your hair down, you looked like a walking bird’s nest.

"They're to define my curls."

You explained in simple words so he could understand, but you failed because Sam had a completely confused face.

"I mean, all these things help my hair look nice."

He simply nodded when he understood your point.

You started to divide your hair into small sections with clips, then you applied cream and gel and used the brush in a way that your curls formed naturally.

"Why do you almost never wear your hair down? Your messy buns don't look bad, but your loose curls are prettier."

Sam broke the silence with that comment, and he could feel how his ears and entire face turned red and heated instantly.

"Thanks Sam, that was something sweet to hear. The truth is, I don’t think I’ve fully accepted my hair yet, you know?"

Your relationship with your hair had always been complicated because you were coming out of a curl transition after years of chemical straightening in a desperate attempt to boost your self-esteem, but that just destroyed your hair.

However, now you were at an intermediate point about how you felt about your curls. It was more of a love-hate relationship.

It didn't help either that during those years, you had dated a boy that, under your spell of being in love, you thought was the one.

But Sam had never liked him for various reasons, but you always thought he was just being dramatic and jealous because you were spending less time with him.

But when your curls started showing again, that boy began to grow distant little by little and finally stopped talking to you, but not before saying a hurtful comment that stayed burned in your memory:

"You looked cleaner and prettier with straight hair, now it's like I'm dating a damn bird's nest."

When you told Sam what he said, it was like a pressure cooker exploded, his blood boiled completely. How could someone dare say such a thing to HIS GIRL? Okay, you weren't his yet, but you would be.

You literally had to stop him and beg him not to go and punch that guy.

"If you ask me, I like your hair the way it is. I mean, you basically look like an angel fallen from heaven."

Hearing his words, your cheeks instantly turned a deep crimson pink. Whenever Sam gave you a compliment, you could feel little butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You always tried to convince yourself it was because you weren't used to the compliments he gave you.

But deep down, you knew it was because feelings for him had bloomed inside your heart.

You just gave him a warm, submissive look because, as always, words seemed to get stuck in your throat.

You both stayed in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, looking at each other. Words weren't necessary at that moment, your gazes were more than enough to speak for both.

You slightly lowered your gaze to his lips they looked fluffy like a freshly sponge cake and pink like melting cotton candy, so fucking kissable. You thought.

And as if Sam could read your desires, finally leaving his fears behind, he lunged at you, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours in a soft and warm kiss.

The kiss was full of passion, but without becoming sexual, it was simply your souls melting together in a kiss you both had been waiting for a long time.

After slowly pulling apart, gasping slightly for air, your foreheads rested together, and you both laughed warmly.

"I'm crazy about you, dumbass."

Sam finally said with a slightly nervous laugh.

"Me too, Sammy."

Who would have thought, after ignoring and bottling up the feelings you had developed for each other over the years, you finally confessed, starting a new stage together.

OMG, I FINALLY REACHED THE 1000 WORDS!!! CONGRATS TO ME 🥹🫶🏻

All of u are invited to a party 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

I love Sam with all my fucking heart man <3

TAGLIST: @anakinstwinklebunny @bxbyysstuff @sinisterminist3r

[utilitycaster]

I follow someone who peaced out of C3 like a month ago, and while she still throws out the occasional post about it, despite mostly running on ✨vibes✨ since pre-Predathos fight. one of her latest takes caught my attention. The wording was a little messy, but the core argument seemed like it might have a point. She’s saying the biggest issue with the story is a lack of internal logic, which makes the characters feel kind of disconnected from their own world and setting. Her main example was the Schism, like, the general idea that the Titans were bad news for mortals should be widely accepted, and they’re dead so they’re not coming back even if the gods leave. She also argues that the idea that the gods would always choose each other over mortals isn’t really backed up by history. Basically, she thinks Bells Hells ignore some of the fundamental structures of modern religion in Exandria, which in turn makes a lot of their arguments about the gods fall apart.

So I guess I’m wondering does it seem like there’s a lack of internal logic to you? C3 is my first campaign, so I’ve been piecing together older lore as I go, and I can’t tell if this is a niche take or if there’s some bigger context I’m missing.

Yes. Or rather, I have a couple of different guesses as to what happened. In short: I think that either Matt wanted to set up a big dilemma and failed to do the worldbuilding to really support it textually; he didn't have a clear vision of what this would be at all (HUGE fucking mistake, like, actually concerning me re: the potential of a 4th campaign level of mistake and I hope it's not that); or, alternately, and honestly right now my guess is that this was the case, he straight up did not think the characters would be such selfish dickbags and thought going in that this would be a clear "we have to stop Predathos" and intended the familial connections within the Vanguard and the scene in Hearthdell to be added nuance to provide some understanding of the Vanguard not as simply mindless evil monsters but people who have genuine grievances that have been exploited by predatory cult leaders, and was not prepared for a campaign where the party immediately took the Vanguard's side.

Religion in Exandria has never been super formalized or organized. Some of this is, of course, that you don't have to like, convert or even attend services if you have a relationship with a god. But as a result, it means that any exploration of religion as hegemonic falls apart. I am not saying religion needs to fit the regular daily or weekly practices many people irl have (depending on one's levels of observance), and those characters whose powers canonically involve a deity often do observe either restrictions (Caduceus's vegetarianism) or have some form of meditative personal worship, but we never see like, a system of worship outside of Vasselheim, and Vasselheim lacks the powers that the real-world pope has (let alone the medieval era pope). Tuldus was forced by his family to pray, but it's never depicted as part of How All Worshipers of That God are expected to behave. This is really the crux of a lot of problems with this campaign - people keep taking very individualized issues - which are real, but individual - and treating them as a sign of widespread oppression that simply isn't backed up by the text. In fact, the biggest case of widespread religiously-involved oppression is the Empire going after worshipers of illegal Prime Deities (as we see with the Schuesters - the parents are arrested, leaving their young children to fend for themselves) - and the biggest case of widespread proselytizing and missionary work is from the canonically theocratic (and ruled by one person for over a millennium) Kryn Dynasty, which, hilariously, might end up even more powerful given that the Luxon - the source of their religion, their philosophy and cultural practices, and their arcane prowess - has been brought up as relevant to the gods-become-mortal plan by the Raven Queen and seems to not be under any threat from Predathos, and might even get more powerful. Vasselheim's colonial efforts, while certainly not defensible, are small potatoes.

The player character's grievances against the gods all boil down to "I prayed to the gods and they didn't make my life better" while failing to consider that a combination of genuinely wild specific personal circumstances (being Ruidusborn; being the child of an elemental-worship cult with terrible instincts and later running a heist on a Vanguard collaborator; being a shadow sorcerer who caught the eye of an evil Vecna-worshipping wizard in need of a host body) are the root cause. It's like. If your parents kick you out for being gay, that's homophobia, but if your parents are part of a cult that blows itself up and you are orphaned as a result that is not systemic oppression, that is a very specific cult and shitty parents. So that fails to really ground them in the setting. Compare to campaign 2, where Caleb wants to ensure the Volstrucker program is brought to light and eliminated - as he says, no more children on the pyre - vs. here, where arguably Laudna and Ashton are opening the door to far more unregulated cult/evil necromancy shenanigans now entirely unmitigated by the gods. At least Imogen will probably end the Ruidusborn I guess, as a side effect completely unrelated to her actual goals (which are, frankly, unclear) In a campaign that talks about tethers, the characters seem untethered to anything - institution, place, even for the most part family, and only loosely to each other, and it shows in their lack of care.

The other part is that yeah, a lot of things that were given to the Mighty Nein and Vox Machina as "things people would know" aren't given to Bells Hells. Now this could have a mechanical basis, namely, no one has much of a formal education and most of them are also not terribly intelligent on their own. However, it does feel baffling that they can't recognize holy symbols, or don't know the story of the titans at the time of the Schism (which...setting aside the many issues with the concept of "history is written by the victors" which is both inconsistently true in the first place and is frequently used in an anti-intellectual manner to undermine historical study that points out such things as historical racism; just because history might be inaccurate that does not mean that wild speculation otherwise is necessarily true, especially since we do know from EXU Calamity that titans did, indeed, intend to side with the Betrayers against mortals at the start of the Calamity). It furthers this feeling, after Vox Machina being relatively educated even in a story that was not as worldbuilding-focused, and the Mighty Nein having multiple research-oriented characters and a party deeply rooted in a rich world, that Bells Hells feel off and adrift and ignorant, especially since they don't even seem to remember history they lived through such as the Apex War.

Honestly, what I think is most interesting actually is that we don't ever get anyone express a motivation based on structural oppression in-game. Ludinus never got over his parents dying in a war where the options for the Prime Deities were leave mortals to die or fight the Betrayers, knowing there will be devastating casualties, but in setting up his elaborate plot he murdered countless people, destroyed through his communing with Predathos the first rebuilt elven society in Western Wildemount, and participated in actual structural oppression within the Dwendalian empire for literal centuries; he cared not for any widespread liberation and would remain on top, as an archmage, after this imagined revolution, which makes it not much of a revolution worth having. Liliana's problems were caused by Predathos, and many of the Vanguard we see are Ruidusborn. The only other Vanguard we really get to talk to are Bor'Dor, who was oppressed on the basis of his religion and preyed upon by the cult; Tuldus, who see above; and various Paragon's Call members who are mostly just following orders and getting paid. And Bells Hells, when they have the audience of Vasselheim and the rest of the world - a golden opportunity to call out the colonialism - fail to bring up Hearthdell.

In the end, the motivations are all personal pain - in many cases, inflicted, in fact, by Predathos and not the gods - or vengeance. I honestly don't know if the narrative is trying to claim there is something deeper, or if it's simply some of the characters and a chunk of the least knowledgeable fans, but yes, the worldbuilding fails to support a morally complex narrative. It fails to debunk that which was established earlier (and indeed makes the fall of Aeor far more sympathetic than when it was introduced during Campaign 2) and fails to establish any widespread harm the gods did that wasn't the result of someone threatening to kill them. I do not think one can meaningfully debate with someone who puts a boot on your throat, presses down, and claims you're the oppressor when you fight back, nor with someone who argues along those lines, and that's all that fans and Bells Hells have ever done. And yeah we might actually make a world with a formalized hegemonic religion as a result of Bells Hells' actions; it just will be a different god, underscoring that this is either motivated by people who don't know what the fuck is going on; or by vengeance rather than justice.

[assassin-artist]

okay, I'll post what I've got for Sindra now. Plus an alternate version for if she were a Viltrumite herself (: lore rambling below the cut

Calling her species 'Vottan'. They're a healer-based society of people with hollow bones, it makes them very fast but also very fragile. Big culture based around worshipping life and birth, which is why being a healer is such a high position of authority. Most Vottan become healers, but only a rare percentage of the people are born with healing magic. Sindra, having been born with the gift, was raised in something like a monastery to become a healer from a young age. They take a vow of silence when they reach adulthood, which is the same time they get their markings that deign them a full-fledged healer (the diamond on Sindra's forehead).

Their healer culture is very judgment free, i think. They believe that it's not their place to judge whether an individual 'deserves' to live or die for what they've done, only that if they are capable of healing, then they will heal. Their fragile physiology combined with their willingness to medically aid anyone who comes their way made it very easy for Viltrum to take their home planet and subjugate the people. Most healers are left to their own devices, but the rare few that are born with the gift of magic in their veins are taken to be personal Viltrumite healers on the Viltrum warships. Vottan lifespans on average are longer than humans, roughly expecting to live to ~150 years before dying of complications due to old age. However, those born with magic have a significantly increased life expectancy, expected to live somewhere around ~2,000 years before old age.

Taking inspiration from hummingbirds here when I say that I don't think they sleep at all - instead they go into a state of dormancy every few hours where their heart rate and metabolism is slowed significantly to conserve energy for a while.

hm.... that's all the lore for her species i've thought up at this point. Let me know if you have any questions (: Now I talk a little bit about her personal story..

I made her mainly to be a Conquest ship, because I like the idea of the big scary strong man having a fragile partner. Her people being subjugated by Viltrum was just the convenient excuse so I could say Sindra and Conquest have known each other for years before the events of Invincible even happen. I don't have a set age for her but I'm thinking at least over a century by now, so they've been buddies for around 50 years or so. Maybe. I'll do the math some other time, I'm just vibing rn. Conquest still doesn't get someone to talk to because his companion is silent, but, despite her inherent fragility and Conquest's inherent overwhelming strength, she has never been all that afraid of him. I think a species that worships life would have a more accepting view of death as well - it's to be avoided if possible, but not something you should fear and dread. Plus, I've talked before on my blog about how I don't think Conquest would actually struggle to be gentle, so I think it wouldn't be that difficult for them to become close. In fact, I dare say I think Conquest would be gentler with her than any of the other Viltrumites would be... i rotate them in my head. my silly aliens

I like the idea that she eventually finds her way to Earth before season 1 begins, but I don't really have a reason for why she left the Viltrumites just yet. Maaaaybe someone lost their cool and attacked her for whatever reason and she just flew away, never looking back? I'm not sure, I'll have to think more on that. I just like imagining her on Earth trying to learn how to get along with humans and interacting with the main cast of the show.. She really just goes where she's told to go and heals anyone she comes across, so she would be a great find for the GDA. I think she would really like Damien Darkblood (:

I think she would eventually break her vow of silence and begin speaking again, but I'm just not sure if it's while with the Viltrumites (her first words would be to Conquest for sure) or while she's on Earth...

that's all the rambling i have off the top of my head. im sure i'll have more soon enough o7

[atley01]

Tips for all of my alternative & Chronically ill/ disabled friends!

A big thing that's helped me feel more comfortable accommodating my disability is finding accessibility tools that reflect my personality / interests.

I should put a disclaimer that making disability "aesthetic" should not be the most important thing about your health! I do this where I can to help me accept my disability.

Here are some alt accessibility tools I've found / made & utilized for myself!

1. If you're prone to nausea:

Anti-nausea meds work, but I also find that peppermints work just as well! I always have mints on me. At home, I've stored them in this coffin container!

I do keep a few of these mints in my bag, as well as ginger hard candies (they taste very strong, but are VERY efficient). I got the peppermints at Dollar tree, and they've genuinely been a life saver.

Alternatively, I've found this adorable ouija board altoids container that has mints in it!

The mints are even fun-shaped! I also saw other horror-movie themed altoid containers in-store as well. Since they're tiny, they dont work well for severe nausea, but they are still helpful!

2. If you struggle with temperature-regulation:

For me, my hands and feet are always FREEZING, but my core will be super warm. What has helped me a lot has been gloves and fuzzy socks!

I have a lot of spooky gloves like this, but I prefer the fingerless ones because I can still use my phone and be warm at the same time! I've also heard my friends who are wheelchair users say gloves can help protect your hands if you use a manual wheelchair. Another added bonus is that certain gloves can help limit mobility for those of you who struggle with hypermobility in your hands.

3. Do you have noise-canceling headphones? Decorate them!

I decorated my N/C headphones in shark stickers because sharks are my special interest!

These are Soundcore Life Q30's. I have gotten compliments on the stickers many times! You could put halloween stickers on yours or decorate your headphones in other ways! I've seen people crochet horns onto the headband portion of their headphones.

4. I would recommend any chronically ill person carry a cup around to stay hydrated:

ESPECIALLY If you need electrolytes. You can either have a drink like propel or powerade in your cup (or any drink of your choice, and you could put electrolyte packets in there).

This specific cup isn't the best at keeping my drink cold, but it holds a decent amount of liquid! And it's spooky. If you're someone who struggles to drink enough water, I've found that getting a fun cup helps me a lot!

5. Make communication bracelets!

If I'm having a difficult time voicing my needs, or I'm in a verbal shutdown, these bracelets can come in handy for me.

I'll either wear them on my wrist when needed or present them to my friends so they can read the bracelet and understand what I need. I keep them on a keychain that way I dont lose them and can transport them easily. An example of some of the phrases I've turned into bracelets is; "No spoons," "spoon debt," "verbal shutdown," and "flashbacks," (for when I'm having a PTSD episode.) You could make a bracelet with the medical condition you have as a DIY medical-alert bracelet. I added tiny spoon charms to some of my bracelets because I thought it was funny.

5. Mobility aids!

Decorate your mobility aids with things like stickers, kandi, lights, etc! Pinterest, instagram, and tiktok have a lot of good ideas. You can easily customize your mobility aids to look spooky or look however you want them to!

6. Bags!

I know that for me, I NEED to carry a bag around whenever I go out because it has important medical items that I need, but it also keeps all my important items like keys, id, ect, in one spot so that I dont forget / lose them. SOME spooky bags are expensive, but you could find a plain black bag at a thrift store or walmart and accessorize it with patches, keychains, and pins! I've seen people paint designs onto their bags before as well.

• You dont have to spend a lot of money on your accessibility tools!

Find ways to DIY them, or get them secondhand! You could even try working with household items you already have! A lot of these items, or items very similar to it, can be found at the dollar tree - even the materials needed to make the beaded bracelets! (Outside of the spoon charms)

Thats all!

If I think of more, you'll see me again! Be spooky, and be kind to yourself!

[middlingmay]

Alright so what if it was Gale who was losing it in the Stalag and not Bucky?

Bucky who's always been more untethered finds his snarling and snapping is more common, more accepted in the Stalag so long as it's not aimed at the guards. He doesn't have the pressure of trying to keep all of the worst bits of himself so contained, only blowing off steam at the bar or between the sheets. He still hates it, is still angry and furious and impotent, but in the Stalag he can express that more.

And he helps the others express it, too. Gives everyone one pass a day to curse him out as badly as they can, and he screams right back. Organises secret fights for morale - a chance to get the hurt and frustration out, a chance to exert themselves, a chance to bet with the meagre things they had and something to look forward to. The first person on their back was the loser - no first blood bullshit. This place was already taking too much life from them.

But Gale? Gale who's been angry his whole life but had to keep it on lock down. Gale who found the war and the air force as an outlet for his wilder impulses. Gale who needed to be in control of everyone and everything and pretend like he wasn't. He can't do any of that in the Stalag. He's always been afraid to let his emotions loose and lashing like Bucky. He didn't do well being so powerless, and didn't know how to be him in a place like this.

He can't do missions or rally the men. The crystal radio helps but that's only an hour here or there when it works. He creates chores and rotas and organises classes. But it all feels so useless.

He doesn't realise that between Bucky and Gale, the 100th stuck in the Stalag are managing to tolerate life there pretty well. Their hungry and constantly in danger, but they have both structure and an outlet when it got too much. Gale just sees himself as an utter failure if a soldier, a pilot, a major, a friend and a man. And ihe alternates between days where he's sick with rage from it, and days where he can't muster the will to rise from his shitty bunk. And Marge’s letters go unanswered.

He's not the self destructive kind to veer near the fence or pick a fight with a guard, but he takes minimal care of himself, giving away rations and leaving the warmest clothes for the others and not taking medicine when he gets sick in case someone needs it more later.

It drives Bucky crazy. And after exhausting every other idea he has he decides there's only one way to get a spark of life back into Gale. So the next fight he slates is Bucky v Buck.

Gale doesn't find out until he follows John who wants to show him something. It takes shockingly little persuasion, and Bucky things he's been waiting for something like this but would have never let himself take the plunge without being thrown straight in.

Lookout duty is a punishment that night, because no one wants to miss the fight of the two Majors of the 100th.

They knock the Holy hell out of each other. Gale's lip busts open easy, but he hits like a hammer. And John's nose is a prime target and his moustache is sodden with blood pretty quickly. Bruises blossom everywhere, and in the end, they fall down together. John sinks a boot into Gale's ribs and he.socks John's jaw so hard his ears ring.

They lie gasping on the floor and the match is declared a jaw and the boys are losing it as much as they can without getting caught.

But John sees it, lying there. A sparkle of life and feeling in Gale's eyes again.

That night in their bunks when they're somewhat patched up, Gale reaches out for the first time since they got there.

"I didn't get you too bad?" He asks as he trails his finger so ermsome of the more prominent bruises he can see even in the dark.

"Oh, I can feel it," John tells him through a genuine grin. It only tempers when he takes Gale's hand in his and thumbs over the too bony protrudence of his wrist. "You with me?"

Gale licks the crusting concealing blood off his lip, setting its healing back some. "Till there's no more pilots left in the sky, John."

[junipernight]

I redesigned Yangchen's outfit!

... I actually designed a lot of outfits for her, because I am Extremely Normal about these books, and also I like costume design and learning about historical clothing.

Short disclaimer: These fantasy clothes aren't culturally or historically accurate, just historically and culturally influenced. I don't have any expertise in East or Central Asian culture or clothing, I've just been clicking around on the internet a lot the last two weeks learning things because that's my idea of fun lol. If you wanted to talk to people who actually know things you should check out @atlaculture or like @ziseviolet, both of whom's blogs I referenced while drawing.

I only designed two alternates for the outer robes. The first is based loosely off the robes Buddhist monks wear (loosely, because drawing draped fabric is hard ^^') especially the Tibetan zhen robe. This garment is just a long wide rectangle of cloth which can be draped across the body in lots of ways (versatility ftw!).

The other garment I drew is a Chuba, a traditional garment from Tibet and the Himalayas. It's a robe, but it highkey reminds me of kilts and hoodies, in that it a) can be worn over one or both shoulders or just as a skirt and b) it makes a giant pocket over the stomach. The long sleeves can be folded up or tied back btw.

I spent the most time on the middle layer, because I was thinking it has to be something she could comfortably fight in while also being suitable for diplomatic meetings, meditating, espionage, and possibly sleeping.

And like. You can fight and hike and whatnot in loose skirts, but it's annoying how twisted up they can get while sleeping. ALSO, YC does a lot of flying and leaping, so my girl needs pants. My faves are definitely the Xiaolin monk pants and the yellow wrap pants Aang wears. I tried dhoti (Indian wrap pants) because that kind of looks like what the giant statue of Yangchen meditating might be wearing, but I think it looks odd paired with a highwaisted shirt instead of a long tunic. Maybe I'll do some more drawings with her in a tunic and dhoti or a monk's dhonka and shemdap later, idk.

As any good historical fashion nerd knows, foundational garments are everything (◡‿◡✿).

But also, there's a scene where Yangchen and Kavik pretend to be lovers, and are "discovered" by a maid sleeping in the same room, with Yangchen in a state of partial undress (gasp!)

I am living for this fake drama; I need to know how scandalized the maid was lmao.

When the maid walks in, Yangchen immediately wraps herself in a bedsheet before ushering the maid back out the door. Maybe all she did was take off her outer robe... but why would she need to wrap herself in a sheet if she was wearing a long-sleeved high-necked gown? I got the sense from both the book and cursory research about buddhist monks that walking around without your outer robes was socially acceptable, at least in casual settings. I think it more likely she was in her underclothes, which historically (in the west anyway) would also double as sleeping clothes.

"The Aang" is censored because this is Tumblr-dot-com. Its mostly a joke, but also, I know other countries are less uptight about bººbies, so like, maybe it's a valid option ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The ~Water Tribe~ look is based off Sokka's swimwear and not Katara's, mostly because chest binding seems antithetical to airbending.

All the other undergarment designs are based on hanfu neiyi, because that's what I could find reference photos and romanized names for.

I'm tired of typing now. Lemme know if you have questions about something, or want me to post a larger version of a specific outfit. I am open to feedback and tentatively open to requests.

[plaidos]

I have no particular dog in this fight as I'm not a GF superfan or anything, but I would like to question a bit of your analysis.

I think you're right that the version of GF where Dipper is transmasc makes Mabel's canonical actions transphobic.

I would like to question the insinuation that those same actions would've been "normal sibling rivalry" (?!) were Dipper closeted transfem or even cismasc, as opposed to "worst sister ever" (!?) behavior. Especially if we're going with transfem Dipper, those incidents of bullying remind me much more of patterns of bullying against transfeminine people, and intersex people CAMAB (such as myself) that I've personally witnessed/experienced.

Also, to the idea that Mabel being transphobic fundamentally changes her character in some way. Like, sometimes characters we're supposed to like hold a bigoted attitude which they will unlearn over the course of the story. Sokka from Avatar and Weiss from RWBY come to mind. Mabel being one of those characters doesn't fundamentally change her storyline or arc.

you’re right, Mabel’s actions and teasings are still mean with a transphobic undercurrent — even if Dipper is a dyadic cis boy, to be honest. but she’s also a twelve year old born in 1999. i too have received the kind of bullying associated with the way Mabel acts towards Dipper about his gender, but i’ve also had similarly “jokes” from loved ones who didn’t realise how shitty they were being because they didn’t have the political framework to analyse what is fucked up about it.

but if we’re reading Dipper as transmasc, it’s like… everybody he knows is accepting enough of his identity to gender him correctly, but they’re still totally willing to say things to him that you would categorically know are bigoted even at that age. like a twelve year old cisgender girl who knows about trans people and respects their existence might not realise how needlessly callous she is being when she teases her (seemingly) cisgender brother for having “girly” interests, but that same cisgender girl would probably be able to identify that her openly transgender brother wouldn’t want to wear makeup and that it would be incredibly fucked up to make him. i’m not saying it’s “right” but Mabel needs to actively Be A Transphobe (rather than just having some twelve year old cis girl ideas about gender & masculinity) to treat Dipper the way she treats him if he is openly transmasculine, but I feel like there’s more of a plausible deniability. i feel like the Mabel we see in the show is a couple years away from being like “wow, that was spectacularly mean of me, i hope that didn’t have an effect on Dipper’s self worth”

i feel like if (in the crazy alternate universe where this is possible) there were an episode where Dipper came out as transfem after feeling hurt by Mabel’s jokes she would be really torn up about it. she’d say something like “i’m really sorry, i didn’t know you felt so strongly about gender… i thought we were just joking around but i should be paying more attention to how you feel, Dipper…. wait, maybe you don’t want to be called Dipper any more. Oh no I AM a bigot!!!” and then Soos would come in and be like “heheh. total hatecrime dude” and then we’d cut to Bill being like “i don’t care what gender you are pine tree… i’m gonna get that GIRL if it’s the last thing I do” except girl would be obviously ADR’d over in Alex Hirsch’s normal voice with his live action mouth over Bill’s animated mouth

also transfeminine Dipper has just always made more sense. the big argument was that he uses a nickname instead of his birth name which he keeps a secret. and that would make sense if Dipper had a girl��s name, but Dipper’s birth name is “Mason”. so he actually is choosing to not use a male name and instead use something gender neutral, even though he really loves matching with his twin sister & having matching names is a family tradition — so he probably has a pretty big reason to not use it, considering he still doesn’t even with all the reasons he has to.

[copperbadge]

As someone who's very conscious of individual fundraising, between my job and my work with Radio Free Monday, I'm seeing an uptick lately in something that I want to talk about. But it's sensitive, so I'm asking you all to read this in the spirit of help, and understand that any negative tone you take away from this is not my intention.

We live in communities: neighborhood, friends groups, workplaces, fandoms. Part of the point of community is that we help others in that community. But there's an aversion to the idea of non-reciprocal aid, of accepting financial help that won't be repaid. And on the one hand I understand; nobody wants to be perceived as a freeloader. But I don't think we can move past the idea of transactive relationships, an ultimately capitalist idea of how we relate to others, until we stop stigmatizing it, even when we're the beneficiaries of it.

I see a lot of "normally I would never ask for help" and "I hate to ask for money" and "I'd rather die than accept charity but" and I'm sure that's true. But...you don't need to say it.

If someone is inclined to give, it doesn't matter. If someone isn't inclined to give, it doesn't help. Charitable giving on the individual level is not a sales situation. There is no magic combination of words that will induce someone to give if they weren't going to. And the more we protest that normally we wouldn't accept, the more we loudly imply that there is shame in asking, the longer it will take us to achieve a compassionate and supportive society.

And also, frankly, you're making other people feel like shit for asking too. Which I know is not something anyone wants.

If you need to ask for money that sucks and I'm sorry. I've been there and it's a real bind to be in. But I also know that in those situations energy is short, and this is one less thing to expend energy on -- instead of protesting your aversion to asking, put that energy into doing one thing to make it easier for folks to give -- make your payment app username a hyperlink or a QR code, or make a carrd with your giving options and link that.

Instead of "I would never ask for money normally" say "I know there are many kind people out there who will see this." Instead of "I hate to make this post" say "You all understand how difficult life can get." The nonprofit world has done a lot of studying of what makes people give, and positivity is a huge aspect of it. Opening with a negative, particularly a negative that people see constantly in other solicitations, is more likely to hurt your chances than to help.

Don't follow a script that continues to debase and abuse you. Mainly because it's not actually helping; there's no upside to prostrating yourself before an imaginary combative donor. Talk to the people who are actually likely to give, who recognize themselves in your words when you talk about kindness and compassion and who don't need you to shame yourself in order to be worthy of support. This is not to scold or shame anyone further, but to offer an alternative that is kinder to you and more helpful to the people who want to help.

Do yourselves and your fellow sufferers the kindness of dignity; lord knows you've had enough unkindness already.

[signanothername]

How do you see Nm's and Ccino's relationship? Is it different from canon?

Ngl didn’t expect people to be this interested dhdhhdhdh

Kay so, ngl, i’m still kinda refining how I interpret Ccino and his Au as a whole, so what imma say is just a few paragraphs of the gist of how i think of it so far dhxghxhxh

Nightmare found out about fluffytale and by extension Ccino through doing research of different AUs, as Nightmare has a tendency to study AUs to understand how they work and how he can apply it in his own plans/take advantage of them

The reason Fluffytale even caught Nightmare’s attention at all, was for 2 reasons:

1- the Au no longer has any Alternative timelines as there only seems to be one single timeline left, meaning, it’s the one singular unique Au, single main Au with no copies that illustrate different events, and the code of the Au seems completely corrupted, meaning the very concept of new timelines being created is impossible

Nightmare isn’t completely sure why every other timeline seems to have been erased out of existence and why the code is corrupted, but he guesses it’s Error’s work

2- the Au has a cafe which is open to host whoever in the multiverse, regardless of who they are, whether infamous for violence or known for their kindness, whether they are a person who’s part of another Au, or an outcode, it welcomes everyone, including his twin, and by extension himself

Not only did Nightmare see potential in having another set of eyes on the outside world and a great source of info, but even as a source of negativity considering the misery in that universe in general

Nightmare eventually visits the Au himself and watches the cafe from afar for a few weeks before actually visiting the cafe himself

Obviously, with the intent to make a “deal” with the owner of the cafe (Ccino)

Ccino is completely unaware of the state of his Au, thinking that other timelines do exist, and by extension, having a bit of courage to refuse Nightmare’s “offer” at first

Nightmare being the bitch who never takes “no” for an answer, threatens Ccino that he will destroy his Au, and kill his family, and let him watch it happen, which again, Ccino is fine with (lie) as long as he knows there are other timelines in which they live peacefully (he’s not actually fine with it, he’s terrified of Nightmare and his threats, but the idea of other timelines existing gives Ccino a little bit of hope that even if he dies, another version of himself and his brother are out there happy and safe)

And that’s when Nightmare tells him about the state of his Au, and even proving that there’s only this one timeline, and that crushes any sort of hope and confidence in Ccino, and well, Nightmare takes that as a chance to manipulate Ccino into a deal

The deal Nightmare’s trying to entrap Ccino into is for Ccino to be an outside source of info on the multiverse and what happens within it, considering his cafe is open to anyone out there, and an active info source at that, so if Dream were to visit the cafe, Ccino is to report that to him immediately, if anything happens within the cafe that could be good info that might benefit Nightmare, Ccino is to report that to him, if Nightmare were to visit himself, he expects a full report of what’s been happening out there when Nightmare’s been busy with his own nuisances, however Ccino isn’t allowed to provide info about Nightmare or his gang to anyone else

Ccino however, wouldn’t just accept Nightmare’s deal without his own terms, so he tells Nightmare that if he were to provide info, Nightmare’s forbidden from harming his Au or anyone in it (including people who visit his universe from other universes, no matter who it is, even if it’s Dream) which Nightmare (reluctantly) agrees to, and so the deal is made

So now, Ccino acts like an outsource spy to Nightmare without anyone’s knowledge, so an innocent Dream who thinks he can tell Ccino whatever thinking Ccino’s a good confidant would have the shock of his life if he ever found out anything Ccino was told went to Nightmare

Ccino obviously, finds no joy in this, and he even tries to keep somethings from Nightmare, it’s just hard to do that when your soul starts beating fast and fear grips his nonexistent throat and Nightmare catches his fear and starts questioning him :)

Ccino carries a lot of guilt for it, but just like any victim under Nightmare, Ccino is forced to do shit he isn’t proud of or want to do, it eats away at him and is just making his mental health worse than it already is

Ccino hears from Dream about how much Nightmare means to him, and so, since his job is to “provide info” he also relays those sweet conversations to Nightmare, hoping it might stirr something inside his cold soul, Nightmare barely twitches at such comments tho (further crushing whatever false hope he may have)

I plan for Presso (Fluffytale Paps) to also have a big role in the story and how it all connects to Nightmare, but I’m still working on that part so uhh nothing to say about that for now zhxhhdhdhhs, all I know is that I want Persso to also fall into making a deal with Nightmare shshhs

Ngl been working on a comic with Nightmare’s and Ccino’s “deal” but i’m far from done dbbdbxbx here’s a lil snippet tho

[forcedagere]

I personally really like the idea of Bill x Reader x Ford. This one kinda ties into my previous post, but it’s not required reading. I suppose this would be an AU where Ford accepted Bill’s offer during Weirdmaggedon, or something else went wrong resulting in Bill staying in power :)

Contents: forced age regression, yandere, implied mental manipulation

Whereas Bill is far from the best caretaker (though he tries, in his own way), Ford takes care to create a semblance of structure in your life. He doesn’t have tons of practical experience with children or little ones such as you, but he makes up for it with dedication. He takes to caring for you as if it were a newly discovered, fascinating field of study. In other words… He reads many, many books, and tries all kinds of things to figure out what you like best.

Ford is not entirely fond of the kind of dynamic you have with Bill. It's not because he doesn't want to be referred to with parental terms, that's simply a matter of preference, but that he insists on you being friends above anything else. Considering the dynamics at play here, Ford cannot help but view it…

"As simply pedagogically irresponsible, Bill." The triangle in question rolls his eye. "Oh, boohoo! Fancy McFancypants over here knows what’s up!” Bill glances at you from the corner of his eye. Seeing you crack a smile while you’re sketching away with your crayons, he’s encouraged. “You read one book on how to raise a kid, and now you wanna tell me what to do? Get lost. Kid, c'mon, prove him wrong-- I'm your favourite, right?" You look up from your latest piece of art. You are drawing all three of you, in fact. You're usually deaf to their arguments, it's such a constant that you've grown used to the noise and stopped viewing it as a threat. (Your daddy calls it 'bickering'; Billy, when daddy isn't listening, calls it 'flirting'. That makes you giggle.) But you don't like getting involved in it yourself! So you firmly shake your head, and drop the pacifier attached to your necklace to speak. "No favourites… I love you both," you say with the confidence only someone as little as you could have. Billy's eyelid flutters, and your daddy smiles.

To put it simply, Bill is the ‘fun, rule-breaking parent’ and Ford is… A little less that. One should not take Bill Cipher as the benchmark of taking good care of a human, though.

Ford will make sure your meals are more varied than the endless stream of candy that Bill feeds you, and get you tucked in for sleep at regular times, too. Compared to Bill, who enjoys playing games with you and ‘roughhousing’, Ford prefers calmer activities. He’s definitely up for the occasional board game, but, most of the time, he’ll read to you, make drawings upon requests (or give you lessons!), or toy around with science experiments safe for someone who gets the urge to put anything that looks interesting inside their mouth.

He might’ve taken you for an adventure or two outside, but… The world hasn’t been the same since Bill got his hands all over it. He may be technically immortal now. You decidedly are not, as far as he knows. Either way, he doubts that Bill would let you out of this room to begin with. He doesn’t have to ask to be able to know that. If there is any reason he would keep someone locked up the way he does with you, it must be because you have some form of special connection to him. Ford does not believe he would risk that.

Really, Ford isn’t stupid or blind. It’s not that he’s going along with all of this because he is ignorant of Bill’s manipulation of your mental state. Bill can call it a ‘nudge in the right direction’ all he wants. He’s keeping you regressed. But everything has changed. He has changed, and Ford doesn’t know if he made the right decision. He fears he hasn’t. (Somewhere out there, in an alternate universe, a Stanford must live who made a difference decision. Ford hopes he’s happy.)

Spending time in this little contained room, with something dependent on him and eager to be looked after by him, who doesn’t know better and never will… It’s not good, it’s the very definition of selfish, but it’s comforting to him. Grounding, in a sense. With an eternity of time left ahead of him and the foundations of his previous life all but crumbled, he has something steady to return to. It doesn’t matter how much he rationalizes it. It’s twisted and fucked up, plain and simple.

…He supposes he can understand why Bill finds him so amusing, even now.

A little whimper snaps him from the spiral of his thoughts. Your bottle is empty. He should get youa refill, then pull you back on his lap.