#and also i dress up as you and pretend to be you at conventions

[mrcrawly]

House MD main cast headcanons

is most of this Wilson and House? yeah. do i feel bad about that? no.

House:

the biggest fucking music snob you have ever met in your entire life

collects CDs, vinyls, cassettes. has a really cool shelf/case for them too

says he hates animals but there is most definitely a stray cat in the alley by the hospital that he's always feeding

i get the feeling he was a kleptomaniac as a teenager

he's a huge asshole but sometimes he isn't actually trying to be one and will just say whatever comes to mind and forget that people can get offended

autistic and probably knows it

definitely makes the grandpa groaning noise every time he gets up from a sitting position

definitely pretends to sword fight with his cane

legitimately cannot stand to be touched 95% of the time. like it viscerally disgusts him or makes him physically uncomfortable like he's in pain (again: autism)

if he ever were to have a child he would be the world's biggest girl dad. im talking playing ponies and dress up with her and showing up to work with little smudges of nail polish on because she wanted to give him a makeover

would also be one of those fathers who is constantly showing off things their child did. his kid made him an ugly clay sculpture of an indeterminate animal? oh it's going on his desk. his kid made him a mug? he drinks out of it every day (or at the very least holding all his pens and pencils). his kid drew him a picture? it's getting framed in his office.

actually not bad with babies and infants. does he like them? no, but they like him. it's just not mutual

likes to sleep on people (Wilson)

his favorite movie is Rocky Horror Picture Show or some cheesy 80s film but definitely lies and pretends to be some fancy snot-nosed film critic

scared of clowns (don't question this one)

was an extremely sickly child but a very healthy and athletic adult which is why he was so adamant not to amputate his leg

got super drunk in his last year of med school and got a stupid tattoo on his ass. only Wilson knows about it

empathy doesn't come very naturally to him clearly but he hates it when Wilson is upset and even if he can't help he'll sit with him until he feels better

sugar fiend

Wilson:

listens mostly to 70s folk and soft rock but will listen to whatever House shows him too

also collects but it's something so stupid and insane and niche that no one understands what he's talking about when he brings it up

would be super ultra dedicated to it too. im talking he would go to conventions about his interests multiple times a year

has had multiple dogs, cats, and one or two reptiles

got the hyper-empathy autism instead of whatever the fuck House has going on

House tries to tell him all the time that he's autistic and he's unfortunately one of those people that's like "but i can't possibly be autistic im perfectly functional!"

is definitely one of those people that's like "my hip hurts...... storm's coming in" and House just stares at him like this 😐

is always the one that House is playing sword fighting

loves to be held as long as it's someone he's close to like im talking fully and entirely consumed with someone else's body

definitely finds relief from deep pressure (again: autism)

would also be a fantastic girl dad. there would be dozens of pictures of him passed out on the sofa with makeup smeared all over his face bc someone gave him a makeover when he was napping

actually very much wanted children and still wishes he had one

HORRIBLE hypochondriac. he understands it's irrational and won't speak about it out of embarrassment but he's especially like that about cancer. working in oncology does that to you unfortunately

loves babies and toddlers. im talking he does the stupid cooing baby voice and bounces and kisses them. babies also very much like Wilson

he has multiple siblings who all have multiple children so family reunions typically have a giant cuddle pile which is him being smothered half to death by his nieces and nephews

scared of heights

was a pretty sick child but spent like 60% of his time in college with a cold or some kind of bug

would love those stupid roadside tourist trap attractions. the biggest rubber band ball in the United States? oh he'd eat that shit up

has probably fished at least once in his life

whenever house tries to show him something on his phone he pulls out a pair of reading glasses and moves his head back and squints at the screen like a middle aged dad

cries about things a lot and gets a little embarrassed over it, usually goes to House if he's upset

would ask House if he would still be his friend if Wilson was a worm and gets very sad and pouty when House says no

Cameron:

dated a few women in college definitely

immune system of steel. has gone multiple years with literally nothing more than a little cough

carries around those little strawberry hard candies and chewy Werther's original caramels in her purse and offers them all the time

definitely kept a lot of her childhood stuffies

hates really bright lights because they give her bad headaches

would definitely fall victim to the "morning shed" trend but to a less extreme extent. like she buy a silk bonnet and mask and starts using a bunch of products before bed

wears rings because she likes to fidget with them

has super dry insanely frizzy hair so she oils it constantly

had super curly hair until she went to med school and it inexplicably became straight

fear of bugs

has a very extensive before-bed routine

has a cat but the cat has some weird stupid name that doesn't make any sense like Faucet or Pantaloons or something insane

has a really great metabolism but eats like a bird for lack of appetite

Chase:

in contrast has the weakest Victorian child immune system. he gets the flu or strep every year without fail and is incapacitated for at least a week

likes old American folk but likes pop and rap artists like Tyler the Creator and Frank Ocean, things like that

really sensitive skin so trying out any new product breaks him out sooooo bad

Mama's boy as a child (if there's something sad and heartbreaking about this in the show that i haven't seen yet REFRAIN!!!!!)

has a really extensive and exhausting hair routine but it gets oily anyway and is sooo pissed that Cameron has better hair than him

i have an inkling that he would be vegetarian or pescatarian (is that how you spell that i don't know) not for any health or environmental reason he just genuinely hates most meat except for fish and chicken

Foreman:

was a really big fat baby and didn't grow out of it until he was like 13

played some kind of sport in school but not like a mainstream one. like he swam or did lacrosse or something

became a neurologist because he's watched multiple aunts and uncles die of neurological conditions or stop functioning from loss of memory and cognition

VERY strict diet and takes lots of supplements that help carefully tracks his intake of

very hairy but was made fun of for it in high school so he shakes his entire body basically bald all the time

smells absolutely fucking fantastic. like coconut and sugar and vanilla and it lasts all day long

loves working with children and sometimes wishes he went into pediatrics

when House isn't in the room sometimes he cheers up the younger patients by doing dumb stuff, like blowing up a latex glove into a balloon or letting them write on his arm or something silly

hated needles as a kid and still has to turn his head away when he gets shots even though they don't make him that nervous anymore

also a sugar fiend so sometimes he bakes for the rest of the staff when there's a get together or some kind of function at the hospital

[brodorokihousuke]

the idea of getting to talk to your main hyperfixation character is great and all until you realize that they would think you've absolutely lost it

[starssbythepocketful]

The Funeral Roast!

Spencer Agnew x Hecox!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k (why do I always write so much for him)

Smosh Masterlist

I'm so sorry that this took literal months! I'm not someone who is good at roasting people whatsoever, but I tried!

This fits in with my Ian's Sister AU! It can also be read as a standalone!

I use y/n a few times in this fic, I know it's not everyone's fave, it's just really difficult to write a funeral roast without using the "deceased's" name. Honestly writing this was just really difficult, but the horrors persist and so do I. I had help from some friends with the roasts.

Y/N Hecox Is Dead! The Funeral Roast!

FRIDAY 2 PM

INT - SMOSH FUNERAL SET

Your hands were already sweating as you held the bouquet of plastic flowers. Courtney had taken it upon herself to get a bunch of your favorite colored roses to hold during the shoot. On a small table next to you was a small heart shaped frame with a photo of Spencer, your boyfriend. Kiana must’ve been the culprit for that. It would probably end up on your desk at the end of the day. Another framed photo, this one of you and your older brother, Ian, at your first Youtube Convention. The photo was usually in your brother’s office–your own copy on your desk–and was definitely Ian’s contribution to the Funeral set. There was also a stack of arcade tokens, your Nintendo Switch, and somewhere around ten or more empty Dr Pepper cans. 

The “In Memory” Photo had made you laugh out loud when you first walked onset, someone had photoshopped a tiara onto you and added a sash that said “Princess of Youtube”. 

Ian, Anthony, Tommy, Spencer, Angela and Chanse sat in the audience. Anthony was dressed as Link from the Legend of Zelda, Angela and Chanse had matching mascara tears and looked like they were dressed for a night out–Angela even had a small purse. 

Angela and Chanse stood together, little cloth handkerchiefs in their hands as they fake sobbed and dabbed their eyes. As they walked past where you were propped up in the casket, Angela pulled a martini glass from the purse and nestled it gently next to you in the coffin. Chanse dramatically pretended to throw himself across you crying and Angela pulled him away. Behind the podium, Angela pulled out two notecards, handing one to Chanse before yeeting the purse offstage and into Alex’s waiting arms.

You snorted. 

“It breaks our hearts, this tragedy.” Chanse began, “This is the saddest day of our life.”

“The funeral of our Martini Buddy, I mean Y/N Hecox.” Angela continued.

You laughed softly to yourself. 

“The passing of our most famous drinking buddy,” Chanse began, “was sudden but not unexpected. Especially considering how she drives. Lead foot, anyone?”

“I’ll say.” Spencer said, grinning at you from the audience. 

A chorus of ‘oooooooooh’ was heard among both cast and crew while you simply continued to laugh quietly. 

“Who else will we have to drink martinis with at Sunday Brunch?” Angela said. “And listen to endless hours of her talking about her boyfriend?” She turned and whispered theatrically to Chanse, “What was his name? I didn’t write it down.”

They both squint off into different directions, pretending to not remember.

“Sp….Sp….Spike?” Angela guessed. 

“No, that’s the hot vampire from Buffy.” Chanse said. “I think it was Spengler.”

“The ghostbuster?” Angela’s eyes went wide. 

The bit went on for a few more guesses before they ‘gave up’. A few more friendly pokes and the pair sat back down. 

You looked down at the martini glass Angela had stuck next to you. “Ang, is this my actual glass from my house? How did you get this?”

You could hear Angela giggling as Tommy booped you on the nose as he passed. “Dead people don’t talk, silly.”

As he took his place behind the podium, he cleared his throat. “I am here before you all today to do what I always do,” he said, pulling the will from his inner jacket with a flourish, “read the will.”

Tommy paused for dramatic effect, making eye purposefully awkward eye contact with the camera. 

“We are gathered here today to read the will of our dearly departed y/n Hecox, the true nepo baby of Smosh.”

You, Angela and Chanse burst into giggles at the reference.

“We all love y/n,” Tommy began. “We loved her even more when she wasn’t the one driving. But, I’m not here to talk about that, so without further ado, the will.” 

“To Ian, she has left her collection of Pokemon cards in the hopes that he can finally catch ‘em all. To Anthony, she leaves a book of dad jokes in the hopes that you’ll be able to make the rest of us laugh eventually.”

“Angela and Chanse, two members of the dynamic trio of questionable decisions. When the three of you are together, who only knows what could happen. To Angela, the deceased has left her a bottle of wine that she bought for ‘funsies’ and then never drank because, let’s be honest, you would drink it anyways.”

Angela barks out a laugh as everyone titters.  

“To Chanse, the deceased has left behind a lifetime solutions of hangover cures as well as her thanks for you trying to counsel both her and Angela when they’re wine drunk on Sunday afternoons.”

“To Spencer, the deceased has left her Legend of Zelda collection, in the sole hope that someone will finally use all those darn cups.”

Ian and Anthony burst into giggles at that, having had been the ones to introduce her to the Legend of Zelda franchise back when she was still a kid. An ongoing joke with fans was trying to guess who loved the game series more, Y/N or Tim, their IT guy. 

“But truly, we will miss her.”

A round of applause followed Tommy back to his seat as Ian stood. 

“Alright. Tommy may have set the bar high with those burns, but don’t worry. I’m only gonna roast the one person who actually deserves it—my sister.” He paused. “Look I’ve been your older brother for your whole life, I’ve babysat you, I’ve protected you from weirdos, then gave you a job and surrounded you with weirdos.” Ian stopped to look at everyone assembled. “Like. Major weirdos. Growing up with her wasn’t easy. She was always trying to one-up me, most of the time successfully. Like, I’d play some Mario and go do something else and then I’d come back and she’d have beaten my high score.”

You laughed. “I did it better!”

Ian smacked a hand on the podium and pointed comically at you with the other, as if he were a character in a Phoenix Wright game. “That’s not the point!” He took a moment to collect himself. “She’s also the type of sister to always be like, ‘I’m so much smarter than you are’—as if that’s even possible. I mean, I was the one who started Smosh. Y/N was just…there for like a decade, just watching. But now we’re down an editor, so if anyone knows anyone, lemme know.”

You scoffed out a laugh as another ‘oooooh’ echoed. 

Ian took his seat and a few others went, Shayne, Courtney, and Anthony—who chose to only make sounds similar to Link’s ‘hyah’ sounds. Eventually it was Spencer’s turn. 

Spencer stood, pulling a paper from his pocket. He stopped in front of the casket, letting out a over-dramatic sigh that made you laugh.

“Alright, we get it, the only girl who’d ever agree to go out with you.” Shayne called from off-set.

Spencer whirled around and pointed his finger at Shayne with faux-aggressiveness. “Shut up and don’t steal my bit, you aren’t even supposed to be here!”

He finished making his way up and Spencer stood behind the podium, grinning. “What’s up, losers?”

The group lost it, with a loud and drawn out, “Okay” from Tommy.

“Yeah, I’m Spencer, I’m the boyfriend.” 

You laughed, the delivery of ‘boyfriend’ was somehow even more over then top than the rest of his words. 

“This is like, totally the worst. The first girl to agree to go out with me and she kicked it like, almost a year in? Yikes, that’s not looking good for me.”

At this point, most of the cast was giggling. 

“I remember when you first joined Smosh,” He continued. “There was this look in your eyes that was bright and excited for the future…then you figured out that that ‘future’ was just making Ian’s bad jokes seem funny. Anyways, let’s be real, the only thing more tragic than your passing is your IMBD page, babe. It’s just Smosh credits and that one Taco Bell ad you were an extra in.” 

He paused for everyone’s reactions, some guffaws and chuckles throughout the room. 

“Our relationship is beautiful, chaotic, and documented on way too many Pit and Games videos. Your legacy will live on, granted, it’ll be in all the clips of you absolutely just wiping out.” 

At this, his cool and aloof demeanor broke and he started laughing to himself. 

“I don’t know what I’ll do now without someone who constantly steals my food, my clothes, and occasionally my cats.”

That was true. The pair had an inside joke that she was only dating him for his cats, so, while the last part was confusing to everyone else, she appreciated the little bit that only the two of them knew. 

“Well, this is it. You’re gone. I’m single. And Ian is free from the nightmare of watching us flirt. Everyone wins… except me.” Spencer gave a dramatic sigh. “At least until I start sharing embarrassing stories about you for clout.”

At that you laughed out loud, Spencer made his way back passed you and tucked one of his note pages into your martini glass. 

The group grew silent before you sat up with a sudden gasp. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some fries around here?” You cleared your throat and pulled out your own notes, catching a glimpse of what your boyfriend had actually stuck in your martini glass. “Is this the Bee Movie script?” 

You looked at him curiously along with everyone else.

“Yeah, was thinking about using the Shrek script, but Bee Movie is easier to find,” Spencer grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

“Alrighty then! Moving on!” You looked down at your sheet of roasts that you had put together, “Angela, Ang, my favorite enabler and best yap-sesh buddy. I never trusted you. Anyone who can act like you can isn’t real. Your ability to go from charming to absolutely unhinged in 0.3 seconds will always amaze me. Angela, you are proof that theater kids don’t age. They just get sent to work here to make the rest of us look boring.”

“Chanse. I want to first say that the true tragedy of all of this is that you’re make a joke about this later, and somehow it’ll still be funnier than anything I did. Secondly, I would like to apologize,” You paused for dramatic effect as your friend squinted at you, trying to figure out where this was going, “I would like to apologize that I had to go and perish like the dinosaurs before Smosh could do something truly revolutionary and put you as a main character for a skit.”

“Ian, my dear, dear brother. You’re my hero,” You paused as a few ‘awwws’ went around the room before smirking.

“Oh no.” Ian sighed. 

“No, no, you are my hero…if a hero is chronically online, has owned waaaaay too many wigs, has something weird going on with donuts, and has absolutely zero control over his own employees. I’ve spent years trying to convince the world that I’m more than ‘the Smosh guy’s little sister’, but with my luck my literal funeral is gonna be called “Ian’s Sister is Dead!’ RIP me, I guess? Like, we get Anthony back, but somehow I’m the one that winds up dead?”

“Anthony. You left Smosh to go make deep and meaningful content and discover yourself…and then came back just in time to watch me fake-die for Youtube views. How’s it going? Is this what you thought was gonna happen oooooooorrrrr?”

Anthony laughed, throwing out a thumbs up. “It’s not what I was expecting, but it’s fun!”

You looked directly at the camera. “Funeral for Anthony, anyone? Tommy Bowe! I am dead and somehow you are still the most unwell person in this room. However, you’ve treated the reading of my will as a such a serious moment. To be honest, you sounded so uncomfortably honest that I was almost concerned, until I realized that you’ve probably been method acting your whole grieving process just for me. And I think that’s beautiful, love that for you, bestie.”

“And last, but not least, Spencer. Hi.” You smiled at him. “Anyways, I’m a little concerned. I’ve set you up a meeting with Ian’s therapist because I’m afraid that you’re gonna take this as an excuse to go full ‘sad victorian widow’ on Twitter and Kiana doesn’t need to deal with that. But, knowing you though, you’ve already got plans for the next Gentleman’s video where you’ve lost the love of your life and has some slow descent into madness.” 

You looked up dramatically, staring off into the distance for a moment as if having an epiphany. “That would’ve done numbers on BAF Legacy.” You continued staring off into nothingness for a moment more before collapsing back into your ‘dead’ position as the video wrapped up. 

=== 

SAME DAY

INT - SMOSH OFFICE 

The games pod was quiet at this time. It was almost time to go home, and you were just waiting for Spencer to finish up a few things before heading out, lounging in a beanbag you had dragged over and scrolling through your phone.

“Ready to go, pretty girl?” he asked a few minutes later. 

“Yeah,” you say, standing. 

Together the two of you make your way out of the building. 

“Well, how’d you think the funeral went?” You asked.

“From the onset side of things, I’d say it went pretty well,” Spencer stated. “Sad Victorian Widow was pretty wild.”

You laughed. “Thank you, I liked that one.”

“I’m also totally stealing your idea for a Gentleman gone mad.” 

You grin. “I knew you would.”

xXx

This was hard to write! Sorry it took so long, I might edit it some more at some point if it keeps bugging me. But anyways, my inbox is open. I can't do like full blown requests rn, but sometimes there's something that makes my brain go ooooh which is why I have so many markiplier fics

[nameless-jamie]

hi babes! i’m obsessed with jamie x pa reader oh my god its amazing! 🩵 would love to read jamie sabotaging pa’s dates like, everytime she says shes going out with someone he comes up with something urgent for her to do just to spend time with her and also him being jealous of them lolll💕 feel free to change anything and thank you🫶🏼

Not on Accident

FINALLY THE CLIMAX

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scenes, kissing

A/N: I hope you like it and thank you for the request, It was such a good idea that I made it into the climax of their tension-filled relationship.

Y/N had been Jamie Tartt’s personal assistant long enough to recognize when he was full of shit.

And right now? He was positively overflowing with it.

The week went by as normal as it gets with Jamie, Y/N was coordinating his schedule, making sure he showed up to sponsorship meetings, and handling his existential crises when he decided his hair wasn’t quite right before the game.

It was Saturday and usually Saturday nights Y/N had her day off. Her Saturday night plans had been set for over a week. She had even mentioned them to Jamie in passing while reviewing his schedule, barely expecting him to register the information. But, to her surprise, he had—oh, he absolutely had.

"—and Friday you have to do this little interview with our new sponsor..."

"Yeah, will do that, love. What are ya up to this weekend?"

"Oh, you know, just the usual. Chilling, cooking and cleaning...oh and Saturday night I actually have a date with this guy."

"Huh. Hmmm...well have fun then."

At the time, he had simply hummed with a short response, not saying much further. She had chalked it up to him not caring. Why would he care? He was Jamie Tartt. He had models in his DMs and a different woman on his arm at every event.

Meanwhile, Y/N was just his PA. Why would she care? Pfff no, she doesn't. They only kissed like once, on accident, and flirted all the time. Oh, and kissed that one time when they pretended to be a couple, also they've slept in one bed...Fuck, ok maybe she does care.

Anyway, she had gone about her week, fully expecting to follow through with her plans. A date. It wasn’t anything serious, just dinner with a guy she had met through a mutual friend. Ryan was nice enough—handsome in a conventional way, good job, well-dressed, not arrogant, and also a little boring.

Most importantly, though, he was not Jamie Tartt.

Because Jamie Tartt was not an option. Jamie Tartt, who made her heart miss a beat every time he touched her or called her love... Jamie Tartt who was also her cocky slightly arrogant boss, was not an option!

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

But then—just as she was putting the finishing touches on her makeup, slipping into a dress that made her feel genuinely attractive for once, and fastening the delicate clasp of her necklace—her phone rang.

She sighed at the sight of Jamie’s name flashing on the screen.

Of course.

Jamie did not respect business hours, nor did he care that it was a Saturday night. Jamie Tartt needed 24/7 care.

Still, she answered. She always did.

“Jamie, if this is about your dry cleaning again, I swear to—”

“Nah, nah, it’s an emergency,” he cut in, his voice decidedly not panicked for someone claiming to have an emergency.

That alone made her suspicious.

She narrowed her eyes. “An emergency, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

"On the day I told you I'm going out—with a man..."

Silence again.

She blinked. “Are you going to elaborate or should I hang up?”

Jamie exhaled sharply. “I’d rather not do it over the phone. Can you come over?”

Y/N checked the time. “Jamie, I told you I have plans.”

A beat of silence. Then—“Yeah, I know. Cancel ‘em. Please, it's urgent. Really.”

She scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“Look, I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t serious, Y/N.”

She hesitated, gnawing on her lip. Jamie was dramatic, but he wasn’t outright cruel. He used her first name too, instead of babe or love, might really be urgent... If he was truly in trouble if something was really wrong—what kind of assistant would she be if she ignored him?

A terrible one, that’s what.

And Ryan probably wouldn't mind rescheduling. He is too nice to mind.

With a sigh, she grabbed her bag. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

She just had to make one awkward phone call with Ryan now...

"Y/N, hi!"

"Hi Ryan, look I have to tell you something..."

"You have to cancel, don't you?"

"Ugh...yeah, actually yes. I'm so sorry Ryan, it's a work thing."

"That's okay, you work for Jamie Tartt, right? Uhm....Do you maybe like think you could get me an autograph, I'm a fan of him and all that."

Ok, that kinda gave Y/N the ick...She couldn't even explain why.

"Huh, yeah I'll ask him. Let's see when we both find the time to meet up again. See ya!"

Jamie had been pacing his living room when he heard the knock.

He swung the door open, the words “took you long enough” ready on his tongue—only to forget how to speak entirely when he saw her.

Fuck. That fucking dress. She was gonna wear that...FOR HER DATE?!

He had expected her to look nice—she always looked nice—but this? This was different.

She was stunning.

Hair done, lips glossy, dress distractingly well-fitted. Black and short.

His stomach twisted. Why the fuck was she trying to look this good for him? Was is something serious?

Y/N gave him a pointed look arms crossed in front of her chest making her boobs more prominent. “Well? What’s the emergency?”

Jamie blinked, very much struggling to remember his own bullshit excuse.

Shit.

“Uh…”

She uncrossed her arms, waiting. “Jamie Tartt.”

“Right. The emergency.” He cleared his throat, stepping aside so she could come in. “Yeah, so—uh—I think my… thermostat’s broken?”

A beat of silence.

Then—

“Are you fucking serious? Do I look like a fucking handyman? You are unbelievable.”

Jamie winced. “Okay, when you say it like that, it sounds—”

“No, Jamie. There is no way you just made me cancel my date because you’re too lazy to Google ‘how to adjust thermostat settings. I'm not your fucking butler.”

Jamie had the decency to at least look guilty.

“I just—I dunno, it’s like, well cold in ‘ere, and I thought—”

“Oh my god.” She turned on her heel. “I’m leaving.”

“Oi, wait—”

“Nope. Absolutely not.” She marched toward the door. “I cannot believe I fell for that again—”

His hand wrapped gently around her wrist before she could reach the doorknob. “C’mon, just—stay for a bit, yeah? You already canceled, might as well help me now.”

She should have walked away. She should have told him to call an actual handyman and gone on her boring date, with average Ryan.

But Jamie was looking at her like she was the only person in the world.

Like maybe—just maybe—he had needed her here tonight.

And that was so fucking unfair.

She sighed. “You’re an absolute idiot. I really fucking hate you.”

His lips quirked up. “An absolute fit idiot, though.”

She rolled her eyes, but her mouth twitched in betrayal.

Yup, Jamie took that as a win.

A bottle of wine later, Y/N was curled up on Jamie’s small couch, the thermostat now warming up the place (it was fucking off, not broken). Y/n had her heels kicked off, her dress still clinging to her in all the right places, riding up her thighs slightly.

And Jamie had not stopped staring at her all night.

She caught him looking more than once, but instead of calling him out, she simply lifted a brow. “Something on my face, Tartt?”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Nah. Just thinkin’.”

“About?”

His gaze flickered over her, lingering. “What a shit date you missed out on. Lucky girl.”

Y/N huffed a laugh. “You arrogant prick! You don’t even know him.”

“Don’t need to.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes locked on her. “Bet he wouldn’t ‘ave made you laugh like I do.”

Her breath hitched.

Jamie noticed.

She scoffed, attempting to regain control. “Bit full of yourself, aren’t you?”

He grinned. “You love it, Y/N.”

Her first name again. She refused to answer.

Instead, she looked down at her glass, swirling the remaining wine before saying—so quietly he barely heard—

“I didn’t think I could have you.”

Jamie’s heart stopped.

For a moment, he wondered if he had imagined it.

He sat up straighter. “What?”

Y/N exhaled, staring at the rim of her glass. “You never seemed like the type to—” She paused. “I just figured you didn’t see me that way. I mean I'm your assistant and—”

Jamie wanted to laugh.

Not at her—but at the sheer fucking absurdity of her words.

Instead, he reached out, his fingers tilting her chin up just enough to make her look at him.

“Babe.” His voice was soft. Rough around the edges. Honest. “I ‘aven’t stopped thinkin’ about you since the day you started workin’ for me. Fuck we've kissed twice already and I've taken both of those kisses seriously. No accidents. I've wanted you since day one.”

She swallowed hard.

Jamie’s gaze flickered to her lips. “Say the word, and I’ll prove it.”

A pause.

Then—

“Prove it.”

And just like that, Jamie Tartt closed the space between them, kissing her like he had been waiting his whole fucking life for this moment.

Y/N melted against him, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer because fuck, this was inevitable, wasn’t it?

Jamie pulled back just enough to smirk against her lips. “Told you that date of yours would’ve been shit.”

Y/N laughed, shoving his shoulder.

"By the way my 'date' asked for your autograph when I stood him up..."

Jamie smirked and caught her wrist—like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

"I'll just send you back to him with my marks all over your neck. Better than a dumb autograph, yeah baby? Bit more of a personal message from Jamie Tartt."

And for once, Y/N let herself go, she grabbed him by his neck and they fell back on the couch, their mouths never letting go of one another...this time not on accident.

[staylovesmiley]

Thoughts on what couples costume you think each of the boys would be into?

Oohhh as a cosplayer this is SO fun omg I know this is probably for Halloween but I’m gonna use it to talk about what couple cosplay I think you would wear with the boys if they went with you to a cosplay convention~

Channie- I think if he had a boyfriend or a girlfriend who was down to cross play he would literally be FLABBERGASTED if they cosplayed Cloud Strife (mans has a huge crush on that dude we know from Chan’s room lol) and I think you could maybe convince him to cosplay Vincent Valentine with you in that case~ or maybe get him to cosplay Wriothesley while you cosplay Xilonen (it’s not really a ship but he also is down bad for Xilonen and this is more him convincing you to dress up as his fictional crushes)

Minho- I think he may put up a little bit of a fight buuuttt I think if you bought the costumes already and put on a lil show for him dressed up as Princess Serenity he would cave so fast and put on the Prince Endymion cosplay for you. He’d pretend to hate it but then when someone would stop the two of you for a photo he would pull the most romantic pose and look into your eyes with so much love you just knew he was eating it all up~

Changbin- Superman and Wonder Woman for sure. You tried to argue that you should be Lois Lane if it was really gonna be a couples cosplay but he insisted you were too strong to not also be a super hero

Hyunjin- with his shaved head and his love for haikyuu?? Tanaka and Kiyoko! and it fits cause he is as down bad for you as Tanaka is for Kiyoko~

Jisung- safe bet is Howl and Sophie from howls moving castle but I also think you could convince him to wear his nana fit from his hold my hand stage and you as hachi~

Felix- we all know he’s cosplayed before and gone to conventions but that was when he was younger but now?? He has the means to go all out and he does. I remember someone asking in a fancall who he’d cosplay today if he could cosplay again and he said Arlecchino who is his genshin main (at least at the time- this man changes his main in genshin waaayyy too often) and I could see him begging you to cosplay Columbina since you are his angel and it’s a popular ship in the fandom~

Seungmin- I think he would actually be so excited if you asked him to cosplay with you?? He would even offer to help you make the costumes~ I think he would love to cosplay Inuyasha and Kagome- (just pls see the vision he would be so cute as Inuyasha~)

Jeongin- I feel like he would either be like Minho and lowkey hate it or like Seungmin and be all for it. Either way I think you would end up cosplaying Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps

[httpiastri]

charles leclerc x sainz!reader, 18+ mentions

charles is waiting for you outside the club once your uber arrives. it's like he knew when you were going to arrive, like he had a tracker on you – or like he was just waiting for the first best person to get his hands on.

"if it isn't my favorite sainz sibling," he says when he opens the car door for you, his handsome grin flashing down at you as you step out. "had a good day in the paddock?"

"probably better than you," you joke, your hand landing on his shoulder to give him an apologetic rub. "my brother was upgraded to the podium, but you were disqualified, so..."

"shit happens." charles shrugs before snaking his arm around your waist, leading you into the club. "my day is about to get a lot better, though."

a chuckle leaves your mouth. his fingers move up and down your side as you make your way to the bar, and charles slows down every once in a while to greet some friends and other acquaintances.

you wonder what this looks like to those who don't know. you attached to his hip, his tight grip on your side, your body leaning against his. but to those who do know, the sight is nothing strange or unusual. despite how much you both try to deny it – not only to others but also to yourselves – you're drawn to each other like magnets.

"buy me a drink, will you?" you ask.

he's facing you now, and his hand still hasn't left your hip. "no, i don't think so." you raise your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side at his words. "i know what it would lead to. and we both made a promise not to go there, didn't we?"

"maybe so. but..." you pull your fingers through your hair, shaking out your locks. "what if i make it up to you?"

"and how would you do that?"

you pretend to think about it for a moment, pursing your lips. "i'll tell you the color of my panties."

charles pauses, his mouth dropping slightly open as his expression grows blank. you can practically see the gears turning in his head, and you have to let out a laugh.

"oh, you're actually considering it?" you ask teasingly, shooting him a wink as he just blinks at you.

his free hand drags across his face and he drags his hand down his face. his voice is low when he speaks. "shit, you can't just say that."

"why?"

he groans and his eyes wander across the room, hoping that looking away will save his cheeks from growing even hotter than they already are. "it makes me think things i shouldn't think about. not when i'm trying to stay away from you."

your hand on his cheek makes him look back down at you. you know what he's thinking, you can see it in his eyes. he wants you – and you want him too. "you hate it, don't you?" you smile up at him. "me being your teammate's sister?"

"so much."

your hand moves from his cheek to his neck, fingers playing with the short strands for a moment. you have to step closer to reach the back of his head, dragging your hand through his digits as his warm breath fans over your face. his adams apple bobs when he gulps, his eyes hazy and gaze weak.

it's so easy for you to get to charles. you always leave him feeling weak in his knees, like the breath has been sucked out of his lungs, like the annual butterfly convention is located in his stomach.

you know he won't be able to refrain. he'll have to give in.

"this would get so messy," he says, voice low as a whisper.

the dress you're wearing is so short that charles doesn't have to reach far down to find the edge of it. his fingers pinch the material, the corners of his lips turning up when it rides up even higher on your thigh. "you know it's worth it, though," you answer simply, trying your best not to lose your cool. you don't want him to see what effect his actions have on you – you are supposed to be the teasing one.

his thumb draws circles into the inside of your thigh, and you squeeze your legs together instinctively. the action reminds him of how he's seen you before, legs clenched around him with your hands in his hair just like now, and the thought causes his brain to short-circuit (and the tent in his pants grow). he shakes his head, unwillingly pulling his hand away from you to grab your hand. "okay. you win," he mutters, intertwining his fingers with yours. he pulls your hand up to his mouth to place a quick kiss on the back of it, as if to show you that he isn't actually as upset as the playful frown on his face tells you, before dragging you with him to the door again.

"i always do, don't i?"

"shut it."

"wait, i wanted you to buy me a drink-"

[jolieblack]

Something finally came to me! (I usually can’t write to prompts to save my life.)

May Prompts 2024 by @calaisreno

May 24th: Imperfect

We've always done things the wrong way round.

We moved in together at a time when we knew no more than four or five facts about each other. Significant facts, granted, such as John being a war veteran and me having no patience with idiots, but neither of us could have claimed to have had anything even close to the full picture at the time. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if either of us had. Only on my really bad days, though.

I don’t have all that many of those any more, luckily. And when I do, I have plenty of good memories to help me pull myself up again. Take the ones of how we confessed our love to each other to a beautifully decorated room full of people in festive dress and in even more festive spirit, to much applause and cheering and well-wishing. Yes, you heard that plural right. Those are two separate memories, years apart and in two different places. I got to go first, and it wasn’t even me who was getting married at the time. That’s another thing that most couples would do differently. Coordinate it a bit better, at least.

The second time around, as a lot of you will remember well, it was John's turn to talk, and I‘d been told in no uncertain terms to keep my mouth shut and say nothing, not even to correct his grammar, till he was done. I can now attest that it is true that the groom never gets to have a say in anything at his own wedding. Someone got his late revenge there. And believe me, that doesn’t depend on whether it’s one groom or two. Yes, and I know there are still people out there even in this day and age who feel that it’s not normal to have two grooms at all. They can all go away and never show their ugly faces again where I can see them, or smell the foul breath of the bigoted filth they’re spouting. That’s not the wrong way around, that couldn’t be more right for both of us.

But we did other things the wrong way around, too. In most romantic stories, killing someone to save the person you love is usually the culmination of long mutual trust and dedication. It‘s supposed to be the crowning glory, the final sealing of a bond that has long been in the making. It’s not supposed to be the starting point. And John is usually the more patient of the two of us, but when it came to this, he could barely contain himself for 36 hours after our very first meeting before he did it. Ever heard of timing and pacing, Doctor, I hear you people wonder? And he’s supposed to be the one with the talent for good storytelling. The timing was good, though. The timing was excellent. There’s another 'what if' for you that is no fun to contemplate at all.

There is killing out of love, and - I have to say it, I can’t not, I‘d be lying by omission if I didn't - there's also dying out of love. I doubt, however, that there’s anyone out there who has ever put a more elaborate effort into pretending to die out of love than I have. As far as I‘m aware, that’s not really a romantic convention, either, and I sincerely hope I haven’t started a trend. I honestly can’t recommend it. Effort is well and good, and I dare say the execution in my case was flawless, but I can’t deny there was a certain lack of forethought as to the emotional impact on both parties concerned. Don‘t try this at home, folks.

People also usually date first, then start cohabiting, then get married, then raise children together. Please don’t ask me to define at what time in our lives exactly John and I were dating and when we weren’t yet. To this day we have never been able to agree on a definition for this mysterious activity that emphatically, according to John, for whatever reason, does not encompass two people who like each other going out together and having fun. But it is an undisputed fact that we had been raising a child together for a good while before we got married. And we have been going out together and having fun for years uncounted now. Crime scenes never fail to work that particular magic on us. Oh wait, no, that was another example I had on my list for what most other couples do differently. Hang on, do I see a certain Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard raise his hand in objection? Raising both hands, actually, showing us… what, seven fingers? Is that the number of couples working for the Metropolitan Police that you know personally who have met at crime scenes? Or are you reminding us of the number of times John and I were actually kicked off a crime scene because we were enjoying ourselves entirely too much, and were told not to come back till we could behave like adults? I could have sworn those were more than seven occasions, but I‘ll take your word for it.

Talking of raising a child together, I‘m sure Rosie will say a word or three about that herself later, but I have never understood why most of you had doubts about the practicability of that particular endeavour. Let me just tell you that a baby carrier is entirely compatible with a cashmere scarf, or didn’t you know cashmere can absorb up to a third of its own dry weight in liquid? And it got only easier from there when Rosie grew older and stopped affectionately drooling on whoever enjoyed the happy privilege of holding her and carrying her around. She hasn’t demanded being carried around in a good while now, and I don’t know what our poor old backs would say to that these days. But we were talking about happy memories, weren’t we, so there’s another. And at least in the metaphorical sense, I hope you know, Rosie, that you’ll be held and carried for as long as you want and need, as long as we both live. You were my daughter even before I was your father’s husband, and that has been one of the greatest honours bestowed on me in my life.

Because this is who we are, isn’t it, our crazy little family, where nothing is as you’d expect it to be. But we still wouldn’t have it any other way, topsy-turvy, weird, flawed and utterly imperfect, but also utterly us, unique, one of a kind. I don’t know if it was fate that threw us together, or if it really was just a whim on the part of the comfortable, corpulent, bespectacled gentleman sitting at this table over here, smirking with his trademark benevolence. But there’s a debt of gratitude to be paid there, and today is a good day to do it. In this at least, we’re doing the conventional thing, but who’s to say we’re not allowed to do that at least once in a quarter-century.

So, ladies and gentlemen, dear friends and family from far and wide, I give you: John Watson, the man of my life, the man at my side for over thirty years, and for exactly twenty-five years in the legal sense on this very day. Please raise your glasses with us to the next twenty-five. And for God’s sake stop snivelling like that, Mycroft. You’re embarrassing the whole room.

[thelargefrye]

MY SECRET CONFESSION … blurb

pairing : karina x idol!f!reader (platonic) ; poly!ateez x idol!f!reader (romantic)

genre : idol au, comedy, fluff, best friends

word count : 2k ... this was suppose to be short

warnings : language

time : december 2021

in which karina finds out about your relationship with the boys.

if you had to pick one idol that was your best friend aside from the boys, you would pick karina. you and her connected and got along well immediately.

however, despite being so close with her, you haven't told her about your relationship with the boys. not because you don't trust, but more so because you were worried about how she react. granted your relationship wasn't the most conventional in the world.

so you decided that you would never tell her.

which seemed to work well for the most part. except for the fact that she was trying to figure out who you liked because you had to like someone.

it was during award show season and karina had beckoned you over to sit with her and the other girls. karina beamed a bright smile as you sat down and she happily shared the blanket she was using to cover her legs with you.

"did you see stray kids perform?" she asked and you had to stop yourself rolling your eyes at her quesiton. oh boy, here we go.

"i did," you answer, suddenly being aware of all the thousand of eyes around you both.

"annnnd?" she asked, nudging you a little bit.

"they were cool."

"ugh, you are literally no fun, unnie," she pouted making you laugh at her expression.

"their not my type," you simply tell and she gives you a rather deadpanned look that once again makes you laugh.

"you say that about everyone."

"right... because they're not my type," right after you say that, you are greeted with the sight of your boyfriends walking up to the seating area. you try your best to not look at them, still aware of the camera; however, you look up and make eye contact with seonghwa and you can't help the little wave you give him. he return your wave with a smile as he walks past you.

unfortunately, you soon regret that as karina had seen the wave and how you immediately got shy and flustered by seonghwa.

"oh. me. gee. you like seonghwa!" she whisper shouts, eye about to pop out of her head.

"hush!" you say looking at her with surprise. "i don't need all of korea to know," you tell her and you see the gears in her head begin to turn.

you were thankfully that you thought quickly in that moment, "pretending" to have a crush on seonghwa so she would leave you alone about your relationship. you mean... it wasn't like you were lying about having a crush on seonghwa, you really did, but what she didn't know is that you were already dating him.

it was fine. she wouldn't drag this out... would she?

you were wrong.

she did drag it out and also managed to get her members involved.

it was probably about a few weeks later when karina stopped by your dressing room, an excited smile on her face.

"do you care if i borrow her for a little bit?" karina asks eunji, your manager, who allows you to go off with your friend.

"just be back before you have to go on stage," she says and you nod your head allowing karina to drag you off towards her group's dressing.

"why does this look like an intervention?" you joke when you see the other aespa girls sitting in their dressing room, waiting for you both. you and karina come in and sit down with them, all four girls looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. as if waiting for you to tell them something. "what?"

"why didn't you tell us you liked seonghwa-sunbaenim?" winter questions you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

oh. this is what this is about. you looked over to karina, faking a betrayed glare before turning back to winter.

"well... it just never really came up," you say with a shrug, unsure of what to say.

"you have to talk to him!" ningning spoke up excitedly. "i just know he feels the same about you," she adds with a beaming smile.

"how do you know?" you ask with a laugh.

"because we've noticed how he sneaks glances at you all. the. time," giselle speaks up, "he thinks no one notices but we do."

"ugh, i was the one that pointed it out to you," karina says, offended. "he looks at you like you are the literally light of his life."

"that's how he always looks," you say and you aren't wrong. that's just how beautiful and bright seonghwa's eyes always are.

"no, no, no– this is different," winter says, waving her hands in front of her as if to get you to understand them. "he looks at you like he's in love with you." well, she's not wrong. "so you definitely need to talk to him."

you let out a sigh knowing that they won't drop this until they physically see you talking with seonghwa. "okay, fine."

the four girls let out a cheer as they stand up from their seats, clapping and high-fiving each other.

"let's go do it right now!" karina says, pulling you from your seat and dragging you out of their waiting room.

you were really starting to regret this, you think as you walk down the hallway by yourself. karina hiding behind a corner, watching as you walked up to seonghwa and hongjoong who were at one of the vending machines.

"hey, guys," you say and you note how nervous you feel. knowing that your friend was watching you try to talk to the two older males.

hongjoong beams at you first, looking up from his drink to you with his bright smile. "hey jagiya," he says. he doesn't try to lean in for a hug, well aware that you all are still in public with prying eyes. you were honestly surprised he called you the endearing name.

"hey, joongie, hwa," you say as you fiddle with the lace of your shorts. your eyes flicker between your two boyfriends and hongjoong immediately notices your nervousness. his hand coming up to massage your shoulder before letting his hand trail down your back.

"you okay, baby?" hongjoong asks softly and you nod your head before licking your chapped lips. that's when seonghwa finally looks up at you, eyes just as concerned as hongjoong's.

"i'm fine," you say as you straighten your outfit out and you note how seonghwa's eye flicker over you before their meeting your own. "just... a little nervous is all."

"ah, baby," seonghwa says with a smile, his hand reaching for yours before he's pulling you into his embrace. you have to stop yourself from fully melting into his hold, remembering that karina is at the other end, watching. "you'll do great during your performance. you've worked so hard."

if only it was your performance that you were nervous about.

"yeah... um, so karina also stopped by my dressing room earlier," you tell them and they both look at you with amused eyes. they knew all about the female idol trying to set you up with other idols. they found it just as funny as you found it affectionately annoying.

"and?" hongjoong prompts you to continue.

"well..." you begin trailing off, "i might have told her that i had a crush on seonghwa at the last award show, and now she's wanting me to talk to you." seonghwa couldn't help but let out a small laugh at the news, "her and her members are convinced that you are in love with me."

"well, they're not wrong," he says giving you a smile. you know this is feeding his ego and he's eating it all up right now. you can't help but roll your eyes a little bit, and for a quick moment you forgot about karina as you got absorbed in your two boyfriends.

"our pretty muse has all the admirers," hongjoong teases as he wraps an arm around your waist. he gives your waist a comfortable squeeze before he's giving you a kiss to your temple.

"joongie," you grumble and seonghwa laughs before he's leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

"you can tell karina that you succeeded in talking with me," he teases and that's when it finally comes back to you. you let out a startled gasps as you back away from hongjoong's hold, both males looking equally as shocked. "what's wrong?"

you don't say anything as you whip your head around to see karina at the end of the hallway. mouth agape and in complete shock like you are your boyfriends are. you had completely forgotten she was there, watching.

"fuck," you mumble under your breath as you take off down the hallway, leaving hongjoong and seonghwa to try and wrap their heads around what just happened.

karina is stuttering in an attempt to speak as you near her, but you don't let her say anything as you pull her away and into the nearest empty room.

"y-y-you and... WHAT!?" you cringe at her loudness before covering her mouth with your hand.

"i will explain, but you need to promise to never tell anyone. that includes the other girls okay?" you say, voice as serious as you can make it. karina only nods, eye wide in shock as you remove your hand.

"the reason i always avoided your questions about who i like is because i've been dating someone... ones for several years now."

"ones? so you're dating both hongjoong and seonghwa?" she asks, eyebrow raised in confusion.

"not... not just hongjoong and seonghwa," you begin and she urges you to continue with a nod of her head. "i'm dating all the members of ateez and they are also dating each other."

you never thought karina could be made speechless, but here you are looking at her as no words come out of her mouth.

"i'm sorry i never told you, but... you have to understand that its not really something i can just tell people," you explain and still she says nothing.

"jimin?" you call her by her real name and that seems to snap her out of her shock.

"that's... not what i was expecting. all eight of them?" she asks.

"all eight."

"wow, i think i need to sit down," she says and you are quick to pull out a chair for her.

the two of you sit in silence for a few moments until its broken by a soft knock on the door. you both turn to see it opening and hongjoong poking his head in, a shy smile on his face as he greets you both. you just see seonghwa standing behind him.

"you guys can come in, i told her," you say as your two boyfriends come in both a lot more sheepishly than they were earlier.

"i guess it makes sense," she comments earning your attention. "i always thought it was odd how they all looked at you the same way seonghwa did. i thought maybe you all were just close friends or something which would have explained why i've seen some of them in your dorm. but now... knowing you're all dating, its like... i don't know."

"jimin, i'm sorry i didn't tell–

"no, i understand why. this is a big secret and sometimes its hard to know who to trust in this industry," she says, cutting you off as she stands up and in front of you. "thank you for telling me." she adds and you feel your heart flutter at her smile.

you can't help but pull her into your arms to hug her. you immediately feel ten times better when she returns the hug, and you have to stop yourself from suddenly wanting to cry.

when the two of you pull away, you turn to look at hongjoong and seonghwa who are smiling softly at you having watched the interaction unfold. you smile at them before pulling the two of them into a hug as well.

when you break away that's when karina speaks up, "listen here, if any of you hurt y/n-unnie, then i will make sure you live the rest of life in eternal hell," she threatens before pulling you to her and then skipping out of the room.

you note how pale your two boyfriends are right as the door closes behind you two and you continue back down the hallway. leaving them alone once again.

tag list : @frankenstein852 @invuwrld @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog @s0obinluvr

network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

[bengisuedotcom]

WHY TERRITORIAL PISSINGS BY NIRVANA IS THE CLOSEST THING TO FEMALE RAGE EVER RECORDED

Nirvana’s “Territorial Pissings” is two minutes and twenty-three seconds of unfiltered noise. It’s also the most accurate sonic representation of girlhood I’ve ever heard. Here’s why:

There’s nothing feminine about Nirvana’s “Territorial Pissings” that meets the naked eye. On the surface, it’s chaotic, loud and violently male. But listen closer and something else emerges: a raw, unfiltered scream that mirrors a kind of pain women are rarely allowed to express. It doesn’t ask to be understood. It doesn’t care if it makes you uncomfortable. That’s what makes it honest. And that’s why it might be the closest sonic approximation of female rage ever produced: not polished in the way we are taught to present, not performatively sexy, just pure survival.

Clocking in at just over two minutes, Territorial Pissings is a mess structurally speaking: the vocals distorted to the edge of collapse, the guitars dissonant and sloppy (very typical for Nirvana) and almost mocking and the tempo pushed past control. There’s no clean chorus, no emotional payoff, no attempt to be palatable. It’s not easily digestible. It begins with a taunting echo of ‘60s idealism, “Come on people now, smile on your brother…”, before transitioning into something feral. It’s not anger for attention. It’s anger as oxygen. It doesn’t build, it explodes. And that’s precisely why it resonates.

Women are conditioned to package their pain. To soften it, intellectualize it, apologize for it. “Territorial Pissings” does none of that. It rips open the quiet rage of being misunderstood, minimized, watched but not seen. Precisely what it feels like to be a woman. It’s not stylized empowerment. It’s not curated rebellion. It's not aesthetically pleasing. It’s the kind of rage you feel when you’ve spent years biting your tongue and finally decide to bite back. It’s not inherently feminine, but it is feminine-coded pain — loud, dismissed, and deeply inconvenient.

That Territorial Pissings resonates so deeply with female rage isn’t accidental — it’s rooted in who Kurt Cobain was. Unlike many of his contemporaries, Cobain rejected the hypermasculine stereotype of rock and roll. He wore dresses and skirts without irony. He spoke openly about feminism, about feeling alienated from traditional male roles, about not fitting in. “When I was an alien, Cultures weren’t opinions” another line of the song referencing the extent to which Kurt Cobain felt misunderstood and alienated. While “gender fluid” might be too modern of a term for him, he clearly refused to be defined by rigid norms. His relationship to androgyny wasn’t aesthetic, it was resistance. That refusal to conform, to be digestible, bleeds into the music. Especially in Territorial Pissings, where the aggression feels less like male bravado and more like a breakdown — not a threat, but a scream for release.

Female rage, when it’s real, is rarely cinematic. It isn’t glamorous or sexy or symbolic. It’s raw. It’s often ugly, inconvenient and hard to control. Reckless even. Just like Territorial Pissings. That’s what makes the song resonate so much, not in spite of its mess, but because of it. Its refusal to soothe mirrors the refusal to be quiet that comes with reaching a breaking point.

You see it in The Bell Jar, when Esther Greenwood stops pretending to be okay and starts unraveling without apology. You see it in Jennifer’s Body, when rage manifests in possession — when the outrage is the only available language for pain. In both cases, the rage isn’t neat or articulate. It’s physical. Primal. Undeniable.

Territorial Pissings taps into that same frequency. It’s not about making a statement. It’s about making noise when no one listens. It’s about taking up sonic space the way female pain rarely gets to. And it’s not empowering in the conventional sense — it’s something deeper. It’s recognition. It sounds like what it feels like to lose your mind, not because you’re this fragile and delicate little thing, but because you’ve had to hold it together for too long. And I think that is a universal experience for women. We have all had that moment, perhaps even more than just once. I think that every woman went through this at least once in her lifetime. And that is why Territorial Pissings is the closest thing to female rage that’s ever been recorded. But to be completely honest the real discomfort isn’t even in the noise. It’s in how familiar it feels.

TEXT: BENGI-SUE DOYURAN

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Our Promise｡⋆.

Jason Todd x plus size reader

There are those in the world who are destined to be- through unimaginable challenges they will find each other, no matter what.

Warnings: tiny hint of star-crossed lovers, I made this long as hell for no reason other than i got really into it, fluff so much goddamn fluff, reader has shitty parents, mentions of convents and being sent away, references to pregnancy and sex, also Jason is totally a girl dad- fight me, some drinking

WC: 2.7k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You could safely categorise your life into three parts- when you met Jason Todd, the day you were reunited and the moment he made your life complete. You found him in the library on the border of Crime Alley when you were both barely 10, the starving little boy and the socialite-in-training. You both reached for the same copy of Jane Eyre but quickly threw yourselves apart the moment your fingers touched. His face blazed deep red under the smudge of dirt on his cheek and nose as you bashfully looked away.

There was a brief moment of silence as he took you in: perfectly clean and pressed pink dress with brand new black Mary Janes before he asked- “wanna share?” You sat side-by-side on one of the large bean bags in a quiet corner of the old building, taking turns reading aloud to each other before being kicked out by the ancient librarian well after closing.

You saw him every chance you could, sneaking away from your tutors just to join him on little adventures through Gotham or just reading together. Jason became your sanctuary, your escape from the cruel jabs of your mother and the cold shoulder from your father. He was the only one to make you smile, and dare you say it but the first boy you fell in love with (not that you could admit it even to yourself). 

Everything was great, for a while but all good things must come to an end. Your father had become suspicious of your continued absence from your vital lessons so he sent one of his many bodyguards to trail you for a while. You were found curled into Jason’s side as he attempted his hand at reading Shakespeare, of course failing horribly. You screamed and cried as the huge brute pulled you away from your only friend, shoving you into a huge black SUV as Jason screamed for you.

The last time you ever saw him was that day as he chased the car down the busy Gotham street before he was left in the dust as you sped off, his voice just barely carried on the wind, “I’ll find you!”. You would never forget the pure heartbreak that his blue eyes held as you were ripped away from him. It haunted you when you were forced onto a plane destined for France and each night you spent in that convent where you would spend all of your teenage years. 

You were shaped into the woman your parents wanted you to be. You were graceful, eloquent and intelligent, smart enough to navigate the intricacies of high society while hiding your true motives. And for that, you were granted a reprieve from the overbearing and downright cruel nuns who had controlled you for so long.

About a week after you turned 21, you were finally allowed to return home, of course under the condition that you were to be presented to the Gothamite society for possible suitors. And what better place to do that than an infamous Wayne gala. Dressed to the nines in a deep red velvet dress that hugged your generous curves like a second skin, you immediately drew everyone’s eyes. But you truly did not care, if it had been up to you, you would’ve been at home with a good book or even in some far off place after having faked your death.

Unfortunately, you were stuck here. So you decided to drink. Saddled up to the open bar, you sipped on the expensive whiskey that was provided by the generous mister Wayne and scanned the crowd. You knew the people your parents wished for you to marry- the uptight men and women who pretended to be good people while actively letting Gotham fall to ruins. 

The thought of being forced to marry anyone at this party made you feel physically ill. You glanced over your shoulder to where well-dressed waiters continuously streamed from a side hall. Maybe you could make a run for it if only someone would create a distraction.

“You know I take great offence when beautiful young women such as yourself aren’t having fun at a party in my home.” A large man slid up to the bar next to you. Dressed in a navy suit with his dark hair slicked back, eyes shining with a mischievous glint, you immediately knew who he was.

“I’m assuming you’re Richard Grayson.” You raised a brow at him and took a sip of your drink. He beamed at you, letting his gaze roam your body before meeting your eyes once again. He slid closer, his muscular body now mere inches from you. 

“Call me Dick. And who would I have the pleasure of spending this evening with?” You allowed him to take your left hand and lay a soft kiss to your knuckles. Your stomach still turned in disgust but less so than when the mayor’s son had attempted the same move a mere 15 minutes ago.

You gave him your name and suddenly Dick stiffened, his face paling. “Y/N Y/L/N? As in the only daughter of the Y/L/N family who’s been missing for the past decade?” 

“The one and only.” You responded with some confusion. Quickly, the eldest Wayne son straightened up, a kinder but somehow sadder smile growing on his face. A strong arm wrapped around your wide hips in a somehow friendly gesture and pulled the drink from your hand. 

“Then I have someone you just have to meet, plus it’ll get you out of this party.” You were wary, of course and evidently it showed on your face because Dick scrambled to ease your nerves. “Just trust me- I wouldn’t do this unless I really meant it. Besides, you can use that knife that’s strapped to your thigh on me if you need. I can see the outline of the hilt through your dress. You need to learn to hide it better.” He chuckled at your wide eyes, using your shock to quickly guide you from the huge ballroom and deeper into the bowels of the mansion.

Your high heels and his black dress shoes clacked against the dark hardwood in sync, the sound quickly drowning out the increasingly soft chattering of the gala attendants until all you could hear were your footsteps. Dick’s hand had now shifted to the small of your back, directing you through the empty halls and up a flight of stairs before reaching the only door with light streaming through the bottom.

He gave you a wink and knocked, opening the door before the occupant could answer. The room was childish, decorated in posters and tacked up photos. An old guitar sat in the far corner, almost entirely hidden by open cardboard boxes, all of which were half-full of trinkets that had only just been taken down from dusty shelves. A giant of a man sat on the double bed in the middle of the room, holding a worn book that had definitely seen better days.

He sighed heavily as Dick opened the door even further, gesturing for you to enter. “What part about ‘I don’t want to see your dumb fugly face until tomorrow’ didn’t you get?” You were ashamed to admit but the deepness and pitch of the mysterious man’s voice sent a flutter of arousal through your belly. Dick just huffed under his breath.

“Well I brought you a present so you’ll have to forgive me.” You sent a furious look his way, missing how the other man raised his head, his eyes settling on your figure. The mattress springs creaked, making your whip your head around.

He easily stood at a massive 6’6, towering over not only you but Dick as well. And with the addition of his whole body being practically made of muscles, he was terrifyingly huge. But you weren’t scared. 

You were frozen in place, stunned by the bright green eyes that started back at you in a way that felt so painfully familiar. “Y/N?”

“Jason?”

——————

It was surprisingly easy for your lives to mesh together again, especially since Jason somehow convinced your parents to let you move into your own apartment (you never wanted to know how exactly he accomplished that). But you never spent any time there- it was abandoned in favour of spending all your time in Wayne Manor, with Jason of course.

Your cheeks constantly ached from smiling and there seemed to be a permanent soreness in your ribs from how hard he made you laugh. Both of you were different, no longer the children you used to be but adults who had been shattered and glued back together so many times that you could no longer tell which parts of you remained unbroken, but you were together and that was more than enough.

You spent days just talking, huddled together on his bed, the large couch in the den and even the roof, although that stopped when Alfred found you one night and almost had a heart attack. And the days you didn’t or couldn’t talk, you would hold each other. Legs tangled and foreheads pressed so tightly together, your noses were squished. It was like you were physically glued together, unable to let go for the fear of losing each other again.

Even the both of you admitted that it was absolutely disgusting (which the rest of the Waynes wholeheartedly agreed with) but you were happy so what did it matter.

Sleep hovered on the edges of your vision as you snuggled further into the heated blanket around your shoulders. Unconsciously, your legs squeezed together as you got comfortable, your soft inner thighs pressing against the sides of Jason’s head. He grunted and assuming you squeezed him too tight, you tried to pull your legs up to fold them underneath you. He grabbed your shin with his right hand, only briefly letting go of the game controller, and forced the soft muscle back against his strong chest where your legs had been dangling. “Stop moving around. You’re supposed to be my pillow.” He mumbled.

You buried your hand in his back hair, scratching his scalp with your nails. “Sorry Jay.” He practically purred as he relaxed back into you, giving a sweet peck to the inside of your knee. The sounds from his video game started up again and your eyes fluttered shut. Just as you were being lulled to sleep by the repetitive sounds of fake gunfire and footsteps, another, much younger voice spoke up.

“I don’t get it.” Damian stood with his arms crossed right on the threshold of the room. His gaze firmly fixed on you and his brother, who sat on the floor in front of you, your legs thrown over his shoulders. “You both are so affectionate to each other and yet you are not a couple.” You just shrugged.

“Friends can be touchy and it’s still considered platonic.” You felt Jason nod against your leg.

“We’re best friends who both had a shitty upbringing. We’re obviously severely codependent so you might as well leave us alone cause it’s only gonna get worse from here.” His deep voice vibrated up the  length of your thigh and you had to make an effort not to squeeze his head once more although this time for a whole other reason.

Damian’s scowl darkened almost comically. “But won’t any partners you have take issue with that?” That made both of you pause. Ever since Jason had come back to you, you hadn’t even thought of anyone else. He consumed your entire being, not leaving space for anyone else. And you were just fine with that but what if Jason didn’t feel the same? Could you deal with another woman in his life?

Your stomach churned at the thought of his arm around someone else’s shoulder, of his lips on their skin, of him sleeping with them. Unbeknownst to you, the man nestled between your legs was having the same thoughts.

His eyes quickly grew dark with a burning fury. Without a word, he threw your legs from his broad shoulders and stood up. He shot Damian a withering look as he strode from the room, leaving you both in confused silence. You glanced at the tween but he held no answers. Before you could get up to follow your friend, he returned.

“Jason?” He grabbed your hands and tugged you violently to your feet. Jason smirked at you with a wink, making your heart skip a beat. 

“Observe demon spawn.” And then suddenly, he was on one knee, holding a ring. It was simple- a gold band with a singular teardrop stone in the centre. The band was scratched and the diamond didn’t shine, worn down with age but none of that mattered because the man you loved more than anything, your soulmate, your best friend was offering it to you with the most gentle smile you had ever seen. The same smile he gave you in that decrepit library so long ago.

He didn’t even have to ask. “Yeah?” He gestured to the ring. You giggled through the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nodded and held out your left hand, allowing him to slip the perfectly sized ring onto your finger. Jason sprung to his feet, immediately taking your face into his large hands. There was a moment where your eyes met and then he kissed you.

Stars exploded around you as the kiss slowly deepened. Jason’s hands moved to your wide hips, tugging you even closer.

“What the hell kind of proposal was that?!” Startled, you jumped apart like caught teens, only to be greeted with the sight of his whole family in absolute hysterics. Tim was obviously the one that yelled given his red face and clearly exacerbated expression. 

The others were stunned into silence save for Bruce who was quietly sniffling into a handkerchief. You and your fiancé glanced at each other, unable to hold back your smiles.

“I had to make sure that she was my best friend forever.”

——————

The last coat of house paint was drying quickly in the hot August sun, giving Jason a chance to sit in the shade of the huge Oak tree in the backyard. The ground vibrated beneath him as he collapsed onto the cool grass, his head falling back against the trunk.

He groaned as he stretched out his long legs in front of him. The renovations to the house were coming along slowly but Jason couldn’t be mad about it considering it was mostly his fault. “Daddy!” A blur of blue slammed into his chest, briefly knocking the wind from his lungs. There was the reason for the delay in renovations.

“Well hello miss Jane! How was your nap?” Eyes identical to his own looked up at him, sparkling with newfound energy. Her dark blue smock dress (the exact colour of uncle Dickie's uniform) floated around her legs as he planted herself on his thighs.

“Was good! Mama let me sleep in the big bed!” Jason smoothed down her black hair which was still mussed from sleep, smiling softly at his 4 year old.

“She was a very good girl, helping me with making her daddy a special drink and feeding the baby.” You practically glided over the lawn, still glowing from pregnancy even though Elizabeth was now three months old. You held a large glass of cold lemonade in your left hand, making your wedding bands glint beautifully in the sun.

Lizzie was dead asleep in the sling across your chest, making Jason’s heart clench with fondness. He took the drink from you, taking a big sip and just barely suppressing a cough. Evidently you had added something a little extra to his as a treat. “Thank you pretty girl.” He managed to get out through the burning in his throat. 

You smirked evilly at him as you pressed a kiss to your baby’s head. “You’re welcome daddy!” She giggled and slid from his lap so she could bolt over to the play structure he had built for her birthday. Jason watched her run off before turning to you.

“You are in for it Mrs Todd.” He growled playfully, his hand curling around your ankle.

“Well then it’s a good thing that the kids are having a sleepover with grandpa B and uncle Dami tonight isn’t it?” You beamed, running your hand through his hair. Your husband nuzzled into your touch, soaking up all the affection you were offering.

Jason Todd was your promise, your life, your everything.

Request: Jason Todd x chubby reader where they’ve been best friend before he was adopted by Bruce but lost contact because he couldn’t find her . One day he came across her again and promised to not let her go so he’s been clinging to her almost all the time, and whenever she hangs out at the manner with his brothers he’s not ashamed to be close to her, putting his head on her lap, or even sitting down in front of her with her legs open as he laid to her front while playing video games with his brothers. His brothers wouldn’t dare to teased him anymore because once they did it, Jason just didn’t care and continued cling to her. One day Damian said something like “they’re acting like a couple but they’re just friends, and it’s absurd” then Jason just casually asked if she would like to be his best friend forever and pulling out a ring which God know how long does he kept it for and everybody in the manor were just too stunned to react as reader teared up and said yes softly. Then Jason kissed her for the first time “Damn, I could do this every day.” “Now we’re best friend forever, you cannot leave me” and started to randomly being cute (as always when he is with her) planning to move to their own house, and telling her how many children does she want and just being cute imagining many little mini me(s). @wittysunflower

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Semblance of Self

Arkham!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 1k commission: urgh ok thank you @necromances-chances for this soft prompt with eddie!! please also note that in my mind, there was 5 months of constant arguing to get him to the point where he considered dressing up nicely lmao commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: stubborn eddie, some angst with eddie's inner turmoil, soft fluff

When you found the source of the noise, and along with it, Eddie, you put on the sternest voice you could muster and flicked on the light switch.

“Shower. Now.”

This morning you had reminded Eddie that he had an event that he had promised to go to. When you placed his lunch down in front of him at his workbench you had reminded him again. And an hour ago, you had told him that he had to stop what he was doing and go take a shower. But when you had walked past the bathroom, there was no sound of rushing water, and the lights were out. And it wasn’t that he had forgotten, because after traipsing around the sewers on the hunt for him, you found him crouched amongst some of his old robotic prototypes, idly tinkering with them. 

“I’m a tad busy.”

“With old parts and machines that weren’t up to your standard? Sounds completely believable.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder, showing your support. It wasn’t easy for him to live as though things were normal. In solitary confinement down here he could be exactly who he was without worrying about social conventions, small talk, and the odd rules he couldn’t quite follow with regards to being polite and modest and human. 

“Come on, I’ll give you a hand.”

“I don’t think we have time for that.”

It was impossible not to smile, or to blush, at the nonchalant comment, but he was right. You couldn’t indulge yourself. He had to get ready, there was no getting out of it. He couldn’t charm his way out of it by charming his way into you.

He stood with a sour face the entire time you tugged at his clothing in the cold air of the bathroom. Not once did he make an effort to lessen the burden. Instead, his awkward, dead limbed stance made everything harder. And he pouted, sighing and grumbling under his breath when you informed him that you wouldn’t be leaving the bathroom until he was finished. Muttering his complaints under his breath, he washed while you stood cross-armed waiting on him. 

When he was finally finished, you marched him to the bedroom where he stood awkwardly, wrapped in a towel and dripping onto the concrete floor. 

“Come sit on the edge of the bed, please. Since you refuse to wear gel, I’m going to brush your hair while it’s wet, that way it might settle nicely.”

Edward did as he was told, but that didn’t at all mean that he was pleased about it.

“I’m not a child. And I am certainly intelligent and capable enough to dress myself.”

“And yet, you couldn’t get showered and ready on time?”

“That has nothing to do with my abilities, and far more to do with my unwillingness to attend this ridiculous party.”

Tutting, you tried to focus on combing his hair, brushing the dark, brown strands into a neater style than you were used to seeing on him.

“It’s not as though it’s some wild party with karaoke and cheap alcohol. It’s Harvey’s birthday. You have to show. It’s in the sort of… ridiculous rogue code, no? You have to pretend to get along. Or something.”

Eddie’s reply was curt, to his usual standard.

“Or something.” 

Sitting down next to him, you placed your hand on his. Sometimes, a simple gesture was all it took for him to open up or to better express himself. You hoped it would prevent an all-out huff if you could get him to talk.

“What is it that’s bothering you about tonight, Eddie?”

“Everything.”

“Because it’s out of your comfort zone? Because you have to speak to people? Because you have to wear that suit I bought you?”

You glanced over to the wall where the suit was hanging by a hanger and a rusted nail. In your peripheral, you could see Eddie was staring at it too. 

“It’s a boring suit.”

“It’ll look very good on you.”

With a sigh, Edward stood up from the bed and began to pace, as he was wont to do when he found himself overwhelmed or emotionally spent. He picked up the white shirt on one of his loops and began to button it up as he walked, clearly trying to keep to the schedule you had set. Even in his determination to express to you how deeply he did not want to go, he was bound by his odd habit of being punctual. 

“Regardless of how it might look when draped over my body, it is not emblematic of the Riddler. Hardly. This isn’t me. That is what I have a problem with. I am stripped of the essence of self. There’s nothing recognisable, nothing truly Edward Nygma about this facade that you-”

His mouth stayed open, lips parted in surprise as he stared at the items in your hands. 

“It’s not you as you are right now. But how many changes have you gone through? How much of you is kept in your appearance, and how much more is in your actions and your words? I know it’s difficult to lose the items that make you feel secure, but hopefully…”

You looped the dark, forest green tie around his neck, letting the ends hang over his shoulders against his chest. The tiny silver cufflinks, which you had custom-made, you fastened onto his sleeves, watching his smile stretch out as he admired the shape of them. Subtle, but still question marks. Still something identifiable. Something that made him feel like himself. 

“I can assure you, Edward Nygma, that the moment you begin monologuing about their various inadequacies, they’ll know it’s you.”

He smiled towards you, ignoring the obvious but playfully intended insult, knowing it was hard to argue with the reasoning. 

“Do you think so?”

“Of course. You’re a very difficult man to forget or ignore. No matter how hard someone might try.”

His lips curled up at the edges, a mischievous grin you were very familiar with. He might not be happy about attending the party, but in true Riddler fashion, he would make sure the party was just as unhappy about that.

[living-animal]

I have some gripes with Film Cooper on YT due to a video he made. If you wanna hear about it, here it is

First off, title- “this man lives in a dog suit” factually incorrect, he does not live in a dog suit, he wears it on occasion

Next, he’s tweaking over the fact that a German tv host is treating the man in a dog costume like a dog- isn’t that how you’re meant to treat all costumes?? Like they’re real?? Isn’t that the whole point of Disney? It’s the same way you treat cosplayers as the character. It’s fun to pretend.

Barely over a minute in, Film Cooper accuses Toco (the man in the suit) of being sexually aroused by the tv host calling him a “good boy” and claims that Toco must have a fetish for being treated like an animal. I feel like I don’t need to explain why that’s bad.

“Theres no way this isn’t a [fetish]. There’s no way that him dressing up as a border collie and walking around being called a good boy isn’t a [fetish].” (He was using a code word as to not get demonetized)

I can easily combat this claim just from he simple fact that this is likely not an often occurrence for Toco. He does not walk around all day in public being called a “good boy” by “hot German women” as Film Cooper puts it.

He then shows the first ever recorded instance of this suit on the internet, posted by a Japanese artist on their Twitter, showing off the suit they had made, and Film Cooper has an audibly and visually disguised reaction. “They made this for a human” yes Cooper, they did. I’m scared to see what would happen if Film Cooper ever accidentally stumbled upon a furry convention. I’m sure he would have a heart attack and die immediately.

He claims that this is “not furry” which is factually incorrect. In fursuit terms, this is just a hyper realistic quad suit. “Furry might be the closest thing” is true for the suit itself, but Toco is not a furry, Toco is likely some form of alterhuman/therian, which, from this video, I can safely assume Film Cooper doesn’t know shit about. “Furry is anthropomorphic” anthropomorphic doesn’t just mean walking on two legs, that’s bipedal. “A furry stands on two legs” a furry can be on four legs. It’s called a quad suit. Anthropomorphic means human-like, whether that be in physical form, intelligence, or emotions.

He also adds that furries “fuck”?? Which to me implies that furries/fursuits are sexual in nature, which is a whole other can of worms.

“He wants to be a border collie that licks his own BB hole” that’s a big claim. Wanting to be an animal doesn’t automatically mean you want to lick yourself?? And it’s frankly disgusting to me that that is what Film Cooper imagines when told that someone wants to be an animal. “In my opinion that’s gross. Haha. I think it’s disgusting. You like to dress up as a dog, walk on all fours all day and lick your BB hole?” When did he say that Cooper. Stop making freaky and perverse assumptions about people you’ve never met.

He then shows a video from Toco’s account of him in the costume outside a window, but edits it, turning it black and white and adding scary music. This was entirely unnecessary, and just feels like fear mongering to me. He proceeds to compare the video to the horror movie Tusk, and more terrified ramblings of there “being a guy in there”. Yes, Cooper, that is how costumes work.

“What is wrong with this man” I don’t know, he has a hobby that makes him happy? Why the fuck do you care so much, Cooper? Because his suit is uncanny? Because you think it’s “weird”? Well I think your constant queerbaiting is weird, and you don’t hear me accusing you of being an animal fetishist. And then he has the audacity to make his motto “what’s up weirdos” and call his audience “weirdo nation” while actively making content harassing and attacking ACTUAL weirdos. Don’t call yourself a weirdo if you have a visceral reaction to someone actually being weird.

“I guess the implication is that he wants to be a dog so bad because he’s in love with dogs?” OH MY FUCKING GOD?? What the actual literal fuck. The fact that Cooper just accused this man of being a literal ZOOPHILE for no other reason than the fact that he dresses up in a realistic dog costume is actually so fucking sick. Shit like this is the reason alterhumans/therians receive so much hatred on a daily basis. This makes me so fucking sick. Cooper has the fucking audacity to accuse a stranger on the internet of being a zoophilic animal fetishist because he wears a costume. It’s so fucking baffling to me. And he says it so casually. “The implication here” WHEN was that EVER implied ANYWHERE in Toco’s content.

(He then proceeds to go on some random unnecessary spiel about sexism ((in a very performative way I might add)) or whatever)

He talked about age regression and pet regression a bit, and said those were fine (although he’s clearly uneducated about those things), but he says that Toco buying an expensive suit to “be a border collie everyday” is different. (Although I would like to add, WHERE TF ARE YOU GETTING THE IMPLICATION THAT HE DOES THIS ALL DAY EVERY DAY.)

“This, it’s safe to say, we can make fun of.” No, Cooper, you can’t. Because if you educated yourself beyond literally just watching this guys videos and having a baseline knowledge of furries, you would know about a little thing called alterhumanity/therianthropy, which it’s safe to say, you can’t make fun of. Asshole.

“I’m defending this against nobody. Nobody is looking at this being like “no, come on, man, he’s just chilling.” It’s like, no, this is fucked.” No, actually, Film Cooper, it’s not, and a lot of people are actually normal, and don’t fucking care about a guy in a dog suit having fun, unlike you, on your little queer-baity white savior complex high horse, who likes to call yourself a weirdo for wearing rings and having long hair, while also bashing ACTUAL weirdos. You’re the only one making up incorrect statements about this guy’s life to cry over as if it were real. No, this man does not LIVE in a dog suit, and no, he is not attracted to animals, you sick fuck.

He then shows the second video Toco ever uploaded on his YT channel, and proceeds to make fun of Toco’s poorly translated attempts at being polite and introducing himself, because Toco is a Japanese man that doesn’t speak any English. He had to translate this, presumably using some sort of translator app. Japanese is a very difficult language to translate into English, and vice versa. He also makes his tone out to be far more aggressive than necessary, and calls his narcissistic (???) for making an intro video (which a think a lot of people who have YouTube channels do) the phrase I’m specifically referring to was “I’m going to start uploading videos at my own pace” which was very clearly translated from Japanese, as the original Japanese text was on top of the English, but FC went on a whole ramble about some “GUYS EVERYONE CALM DOWN IM SO BURNT OUT” my brother that is a whole new sentence. Where are you getting all this from?? Are you seeing something that I’m not??

He then commented on said video, clearly in a cruel and bullying way, asking Toco to “put on the dog suit and twerk” which I would most definitely classify as sexual harassment. Wow Cooper, I love your humor! It’s so funny to sexually harass people on the internet, and it’s definitely not super wrong and disgusting because Toco is a man and has a weird hobby!

Next, there’s a Q&A from Toco. In the beginning of the video, Toco literally has a disclaimer that he may have some translation errors in the video (because he doesn’t speak English and had to translate from Japanese) we know Cooper saw this because he literally read it out loud. Next thing he does, is after Toco answers the first question; “Q: why did you want to become a dog?”

“A: I’ve had a vague dream of becoming an animal since I was a child” and Film Cooper compared this to FELIX CIPHER, the person notorious for believing he is the reincarnation of Adolf Hitler. I don’t think I need to explain why this is absolutely abhorrent behavior. Not only is it making light of some extremely offensive and antisemitic behavior, but also further demonizes furries and alterhumans/therians. And also it’s just incredibly distasteful, and not at all an accurate comparison. Sure he says that Felix Cipher is worse, but he still made the comparison. He also says to Toco “let dreams be dreams. Just don’t do it.” I’m glad to see we’re encouraging people to repress themselves and what makes them happy just because YOU personally don’t like it, Mr. Film.

Film Cooper claims that Toco is “avoiding questions” even after just a second ago he acknowledged the disclaimer about mistranslations and misrepresentations.

“I don’t want to spend 30k on a [dog] suit and walk around as [a dog]” okay, then don’t? Nobody is forcing you to do that. Nobody’s even forcing you to watch this content if it makes you so uncomfortable. If you were to see it and say “I’m uncomfortable with this, I don’t want to watch it” I wouldn’t care. But when I start to care is when you go out of your way to make a video harassing, attacking, and insulting an innocent man on the internet for money and clout.

He calls him “annoying” because of his sentence structure, and because FC felt as though he was avoiding questions, even though we know, and it has been stated three times now, that Toco does not speak any English, and this video is poorly translated. He’s mad at Toco for saying that he doesn’t know why the trigger for wanting to be an animal. But what do you want him to say? If he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know. Things like this are hard to place.

The next question, he once again makes up entirely new sentences from Toco’s answers. He makes Toco out to be angry and “indignant” with the questions he’s receiving, even though Toco has been nothing but polite, friendly, and respectful. And he also continues to misinterpret what Toco is saying, accusing him of “interrogating himself” because he was asking the viewers questions, and Film Cooper interpreted that as Toco asking himself questions?? For some reason. I think Film Cooper just lacks any form of literary comprehension.

Cooper continues to reinstate the fact that Toco is “an adult human man in a dog suit. He has a job, he goes to work..” but I think that just further humanizes Toco, doesn’t it? It makes me dislike him even less. I don’t care that he’s a grown man in a dog suit, I care that he’s a human being with feelings and a life beyond what we see online of him.

He accuses Toco of being defensive again. The question was if the costume was modeled after any specific border collie, and Toco said it wasn’t, though due to poor translation, it came out as “it’s not my collie or my friend’s collie” to which FC goes on another ramble acting out Toco being “defensive” about the origins of his suit design, making him once again appear like a creep.

Film Cooper, again, takes a clip of Toco moving around in his suit, and turns it black and white and adds horror music over it to make it look scarier. I don’t know why he insists on doing this so many times.

He also accuses Toco of not answering questions again, even though he did, and Film Cooper continues to misconstrue what Toco says “Q: are you tired of being human?” “A: sometimes it is reported that I am tired of being human. I never said that. […] Be aware of incorrect information.” Toco says he has never stated to be tired of being human, yet Film Cooper accuses him of not answering questions, AGAIN, due to his misinterpretation of Toco’s answers, not Toco’s own lack of answers.

He accuses Toco of not answering AGAIN; “Q; the topic is getting a lot of attention. How do you feel about it now?” “A; I am very surprised because I didn’t expect this to happen […]” The answer to the question was that Toco was surprised, but Cooper decided to focus on the rest of the answer, where Toco talks about how grateful he is for all the comments people have left, apologizing for not replying, and asking people about how their country is viewing him. Toco answers the questions every time, but Film Cooper chooses to focus on everything but Toco’s answer, just to keep calling him a freak. “You are a real life cosmic horror villain. Lovecraft would write a story about you.”

“A day in his life is him as a dog.” No it’s not, Toco wears the suit to make content, and the content he makes is specific to the dog suit and his desire to be a dog. So it makes no sense why Film Cooper is confused as to why Toco is making content about his dog suit “as if it’s normal”. Because in this context, it is. This is his channel where he posts about his suit, so obviously, the suit is a normal thing on his channel and it’s going to be treated as such.

Toco replied to a comment asking if he tells people he know about his suit, saying that he was too insecure about it, and only tells people he’s close with. Cooper had this to say;“He should be embarrassed to do this at work. Don’t do this at work.” He literally just said he didn’t!! The previous question was literally “have you ever gone outside [in the suit]” and Toco’s response was no. Obviously he’s never done it at work. Goofy.

That’s the end of the video. I have many, MANY smaller things about this video that upset me as well, but this is just the important things. And rewatching this video to make this post has filled me with a violent rage and hatred for Film Cooper like never before. We all clowned on his for the Marsha P. Johnson thing, I thought we all hated him now, why do we all still love him?? Anyways, dear Film Cooper, please do a MODICUM of research before you make tasteless videos like this, literally just look up therianthropy and alterhumanity on tumblr.com and that’ll clear some things up for you. And to Toco, I love your videos, never let jackasses like Film Cooper tell you that you’re a freak for doing what makes you happy. There’s a whole community of people just like you out there, and I hope you’re having fun and still making bigger bucks than Film Cooper ever will 🫶🫶

[sergeantsporks]

Writin Request: Gus & Hunter going to a convention!

“Alright, important things to remember before we go in.” Luz held out her arms to block Hunter and Gus. “Number one: If you see a panel or table labelled as ‘meet the voice of,’ then they are a voice actor. Do not be disappointed when they don’t look like the character, because they just lent their voice. Number two: if you go to a panel or table for a live action actor, please, please, please remember that they are ALSO not the character. They are just someone who was paid to pretend to be the character.”

Hunter rolled his eyes, pushing at her arms. “We know how acting works, Luz.”

“Yeah, I’ve been in school plays before, and I know I wasn’t actually a tree,” Gus scoffed, then side-eyed Hunter. “Wait, how do you know how actors work?”

“Okay, okay,” Luz conceded, “One more rule. This one is the most important one, don’t forget it.” She grabbed the fronts of Hunter and Gus’ costumes, looking them deep in the eyes. “Do not. Do not, do not, do not. Start comparing your cosplay to someone else’s. The saying ‘comparison is the thief of joy’ is never truer than at a con. If you see a nice cosplay, just think to yourself ‘wow that cosplay is so good!’ Do not start thinking ‘my cosplay is terrible compared to theirs.’ It will kill you. Do you understand me.”

“We understand,” Hunter and Gus chorused, and finally, Luz released them.

“Okay! Have fun! Check all the booths before you make any purchase decisions. You will go over budget, just accept this.”

“Are you adding more rules?” Gus asked.

Luz flapped a hand at them. “No, no, no, I’m done. Amity and I will meet you up at the front at noon, okay?”

“Okay,” they chorused, and finally, Luz was gone, disappearing with Amity towards the Azura actress autograph signing.

“Pfft,” Gus said once she was gone, elbowing Hunter, “Like anyone’s cosplay is going to be as good as ours anyway. You are actually a clone! What O’Bailey cosplayer can compare to that?”

“Yeah!” Hunter agreed, “And your headset? I mean, it lights up! Who else is going to have a costume that lights up?”

“Oh, hey—”

A hand closed on Hunter’s shoulder, and he grabbed it, reflexively flipping his unknown assailant over with a thump on her back. A freckled girl dressed in science officer blue frontier cosplay blinked up at the ceiling with a groan.

Hunter dropped her wrist. “Oh, no. No, no, no, I’m sorry, I—”

She wheezed in a laugh. “No—no, that was awesome.” She scrambled back to her feet. “Whew. Surprised me, but honestly? Points for the dedication to character! I should have known better than to sneak up on O’Bailey! He might be an engineer, but—”

“Duplicant battle protocol makes for one hell of a punch,” Hunter and Gus quoted with her. She lapsed into more giggles.

“Exactly.”

Hunter looked her up and down. He recognized the uniform, but she’d affixed a Duplicant communicator to her ear, and wore bracelets engraved with lettering he recognized from a one-off planet. “Who are you? I don’t recognize your character.”

“Oh—well, of course you don’t.” She twirled, revealing that her uniform flared out into a skirt at the end. “I’m my own original character! Shaari, the result of a Duplicant defying protocol and having a child with a Mergarave. I’m a double agent.” She winked. “But I won’t say for who.”

“That’s creative,” Gus told her warmly, “The Mergarave had such a neat design—it was a shame we left their planet so soon.”

Shaari—whatever her real name was—nodded emphatically. “I know, right? Anyway, I just wanted to say that I really like your cosplays. Are you going to enter the costume contest?”

“Costume contest?” Hunter and Gus echoed.

“Yeah, the Cosmic Frontier panel holds one every year, since it’s so difficult to get one of the actors in. On account of, you know. Most of them being either really famous or really dead. Anyway, they have a group category, and first prize is a signed box set of the original Cosmic Frontier trilogy. Mint condition. Original characters aren’t accepted in the group round. We have a separate category. But you two should totally sign up. I think you’ve got a real shot at winning. It was nice meeting you!”

She wandered off, jogging to join a friend wearing a Cosmic Frontier T-shirt, and Gus grabbed Hunter’s arms.

“Hunter. We have to win that box set. Camila will love it.”

“I know.” Hunter started towards the galaxy-themed banner he could see in the distance. “She said to bring her back a sticker or a pin or something—can you imagine if we come home with a mint-condition signed copy of the Cosmic Frontier original trilogy? We are going to win at comic-con.”

“Oh, yeah. Costume contest, here we come, baby!”

A bored-looking con employee waited at the Cosmic Frontier table, sign up sheets in front of him. “Original characters here, solo costumers here, and group costumes here,” he monotoned, gesturing to three different pieces of paper, “The competition is judged on both the quality of your costume and how well you portray your character. We’ve only got about ten more minutes until the morning competition starts, so please hurry.”

Hunter signed he and Gus’ names on the group competition list, and the employee jabbed one thumb at the door behind him. “Wait in there, you’ll be called in order.”

Hunter and Gus found themselves in a long hallway, covered with black tarp dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars. Just ahead of them, a much larger group of young adults laughed, elbowing each other.

“Try again,” one of them in a blue uniform encouraged.

“I’ll get it on stage!” their Captain Avery protested, “I just can’t take it seriously in practice with all you guys making faces at me.”

Hunter stopped, hissing in, and Gus bumped into him. “What? What’s the matter?”

“Maybe… maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

“What?”

“I mean—I just—” Hunter gestured ahead of them. “Look! They’ve got the full bridge.”

“There wasn’t a rule on how many members you needed.”

“I know, but…” Hunter gulped. Even in the low light, he could see the quality of their costumes, and it made him painfully aware of the stitches still showing on his. “I mean… just look at them.”

As if to emphasize his point, their O’Bailey hit a switch on his headset, and the whole thing lit up with a whoosh, the red eye glowing dully in the dark. When he moved his arm, it clicked gently.

“They’ve got better costumes—they’ve got better gear—they’ve got the whole bridge—and they go up before us, Gus. We’re going to look ridiculous after them!”

“Well—hey—no. Remember what Luz said? Comparing costumes is not something you should do at cons.”

“Gus, we’ve just entered a costume contest. The entire point is that people will compare our costumes! We’ve entered a zone outside of Luz’s rules!” Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “I haven’t seen anyone come in after us, either! We’re going to go last, after these guys, and then there will be no one after us to make them forget how mediocre we were!”

Gus’ hand landed on his arm, giving it a squeeze. “Hey—Hunter, deep breaths. Deep breaths. It’s not just about how good your costume looks, remember? We’ll go up there, we’ll do the Astral Oath, and we’ll get it on acting. Piece of cake.” He nudged Hunter’s arm with his own. “For the boxed set, right?”

“For the boxed set,” Hunter repeated, but suddenly, the boxed set didn’t seem so attainable. “Okay. We can do this.”

The line moved slowly. Hunter could hear people ahead of them performing their characters, some strong and confident, and others barely managing to stumble out a “beam us up” before running offstage. But finally, the group ahead of them moved onstage, and Hunter could see out into the auditorium. Everyone who’d already gone had found a seat, adding to the number of people watching. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck.

For the boxed set.

“Cosmic Nerds?” the announcer called.

The full bridge rushed to center stage. Hunter watched, open-mouthed, as they pulled over to their respective bridge spots on the stage. The blue-uniformed one shook their head. “I don’t think the ground team is making it out of this one, Captain,” they sighed, “Logically, our best option is—”

The Captain Avery cosplayer straightened up, arms behind her back. “To leave them behind? No. Have you forgotten? Our crew is family. No matter who we are, or what we are, we love and protect each other.”

“Through supernovas, and solar winds,” the rest of the bridge chorused with them.

“Exactly. Now let’s get our family back.”

They rushed off the stage to thunderous applause from the audience, and Hunter’s stomach dropped. Captain Avery really had done better when on stage. And they’d performed the Astral Oath—if Hunter and Gus did that now, they’d just look like copycats.

There’s no way we win this.

Hunter started to back up, but then he and Gus’ names echoed from the front, and Gus stepped forward, accidentally tromping on the back of his heels, and before Hunter quite knew what he was doing, he was out on stage, with dozens of people staring at him, and a mic in front of him.

“Go on,” Gus whispered encouragingly, “Give me something to start the oath.”

“Um,” Hunter squeaked, and the mike screeched, making everyone in the audience wince. Hunter took a step back, ignoring Gus’ confused glance. His heart pounded in his ears. The stares of the audience bored into him, every single pair of eyes another judgement.

Say something

Say something

Say something

“Hey, everybody.”

Hunter blinked. Gus had taken the mic. He winked at the audience. “I know, breaking the fourth wall isn’t very in-character of me. But, well, maybe I don’t need to be Captain Avery at the moment.”

A murmur rippled through the watchers. Hunter took a deep breath, watching Gus. What was he up to?

“Cosmic Frontier means something special to everyone here,” Gus continued, “For me—and for Hunter—it found us when we needed it most. Avery, O’Bailey, and the rest of the crew showed up when home was uncertain, when who we were was uncertain, and they told us… well, they told us that even if we never found our way back home, that didn’t mean we couldn’t find our way to a family. And that family could be each other.”

Gus set the microphone back in the stand. “It might not be the Astral Oath, but hey…” he turned back to Hunter, holding out his fist. “I think Captain Avery would be okay if we used our own.”

A grin spread over Hunter’s face, and he bumped fists, elbows, and foreheads with Gus, both of them making an explosion noise.

“Captain Avery and Chief Engineer O’Bailey, beaming out,” Gus said into the microphone.

Hunter heard a piercing whistle and cheer as he walked off the stage. Shaari gave the two of them a big thumbs-up from the audience, her cheer setting off a wave of loud—if not as enthusiastic as the last round—applause.

The announcer took the stage again. “Aaaaalright. That was our last group, so. The judges are going to start their decision-making now. After the winners are announced, we’ll be opening up a vote for the crewmen’s choice. Be sure to scan the QR code and vote on your phone!”

Gus tugged Hunter to the back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured in a low voice.

Hunter blinked. “For what? I should be the one apologizing—I choked back there, I forgot Luz’s rule, I—”

“You wanted to back out. I should have listened.” Gus sighed. “Blinded by the box set.”

Hunter chuckled. “It’s a magnificent box set, to be fair. It’s okay, Gus.” He nudged his friend’s shoulder. “And—hey. Thanks. For what you said back there. It was… nice.”

“And now for our winners!”

Hunter and Gus turned back to the stage, listening impatiently through the solo costumes and original character costumes—Shaari won second and a free cosmic frontier keychain—until they reached the group award. Third place went by. So did second.

“And our first prize winner…”

Hunter held his breath, crossing his fingers.

“…Cosmic Nerds!”

The audience burst out cheering again as the group took the stage again, pausing for a photo, and for their prize. Hunter sighed.

“Oh, well.”

“Camila will be happy with a sticker, too,” Gus assured him, “We should go find her one.”

They wandered out of the auditorium, but before they’d gone far, Hunter felt a tap on his shoulder. This time, he managed to restrain his impulse to throw whoever it was over onto their back, and turned around.

Cosmic Nerd’s O’Bailey stood in front of him. The rest of the group cluttered in the auditorium doors, still laughing and elbowing each other.

“Make it quick,” their Avery called.

“Yeah, yeah,” O’Bailey called back. He gave Hunter Gus a warm smile. “Hey.”

Gus spoke up first. “Uh—hey? Congratulations on your win, man.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks. Um. I wanted to ask… is this your first con? I haven’t seen the two of you around, and the Cosmic Frontier Connecticut con scene isn’t exactly packed.”

“Yeah. It is our first.” Hunter squinted at him. What was his angle? “Why?”

“Thought so. No reason, just wondering.” He smiled that warm smile again. “Your costumes are really good—especially for a first con.”

Gus slapped his forehead. “Oh, MAN, I forgot to turn my headset on when we went out there! It lights up,” he explained to O’Bailey.

“Neat! Yeah, I just wanted to say… you know, what you said up there, that was really neat. I think a lot of us… Cosmic Frontier found all of us when we were vulnerable, and gave us something to hold onto. It gave us hope for something better when we were sweaty, awkward teenagers who no one liked.”

“O’Bailey!” the Avery said with exasperated fondness, rolling her eyes, “Come on, they’re announcing the crewmen’s choice winner!”

“One minute!” O’Bailey smiled after her, his expression softening. “Anyway… the people we met through Cosmic Frontier… well, the Cosmic Nerds are my best friends. They’re family.” A grin twitched across his face. “Anyway, all that to say, I’m glad Cosmic Frontier is still reaching teenagers like I was and giving them something to hold onto, the way it did for me.” He gave Hunter a thumbs-up. “I know what it’s like to be an O’Bailey. Seems like you’ve got a great crew already, eh?”

Hunter smiled despite himself. “Yeah. I do.”

Shaari pushed her way out of the auditorium. “Hey! Avery! O’Bailey!”

“Yes?” both sets answered.

Shaari flapped a hand at the Cosmic Nerds. “You guys already won, geeze. You two! Gus and Hunter! Hey! You won crewmen’s choice! Get back in there, they’re doing a picture, and they’ve got your prize.”

“We won?” Hunter asked, bewildered, “But we—we—”

“Spirit of the character’s sometimes more important than the bookline accuracy,” O’Bailey said with a wink, “Sounds like Avery’s speech did a good job rallying the crewmen.”

“Yes!” Gus fist-pumped the air. “Let’s go!” He started towards the door, then stopped. “Uh—well—Hunter—are you feeling up for it?”

“Of course,” Hunter said, and strangely enough, he meant it.

This time on the stage, the stares of the audience didn’t feel quite so piercing. This time, they cheered, and the announcer shook both Hunter and Gus’s hands, directing them to stand for a photo, and presenting them with a bumper sticker of Captain Avery giving a thumbs-up with the speech bubble “Keep Calm, and Don’t Crash the Spaceship.”

A grin split Gus’ face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Hunter nodded. “This is going to look perfect on Camila’s car.”

[eevylynn]

Lunyx: Alpha Code

Steter || G|| Omegaverse || 1688 wc

In a world where Alphas are stigmatized as dangerous and unfit to live peacefully, Stiles Stilinski and Peter Hale hide their true status by pretending to be other designations. They meet at a tech conference.

I don't usually read non traditional omegaverse, so I'll admit that this one was a bit of a challenge. Especially since I've only written one other omegaverse story and one other Steter story.

I hope you guys enjoy! <3

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Stiles stood in front of the hotel bathroom mirror, razor in hand. He dragged the blade over his jaw, ensuring there wasn't a single hint of stubble left behind. Clean-shaven, he could visually pass for an omega if he wanted, especially with what Lydia called his "doe eyes" and his cupid's bow lips. No one would look at that combined with a smooth face and assume he was an alpha on looks alone.

With practiced efficiency, he reached for his bottle of suppressant pills, dry-swallowing one before uncapping the pheromone-reducing lotion. The scent was mild as he spread it over his arms, neck, pits, and carefully around the base of his dick, working it in until his skin absorbed it. The final step: a scent-neutralizing patch, pressed just below the hair of his armpit. By the time he was done, the only thing anyone would smell on him was his cologne—a crisp, neutral blend that had been meticulously tested for the perfect balance of utterly forgettable.

Dressed in a crisp button-down and a blazer, cut in a way that minimized the broadness of his shoulders while still looking sharp, Stiles took one last look in the mirror.

Professional. Polished. Beta.

He exhaled slowly, squared his shoulders, and grabbed his conference badge before stepping out.

_____________________________

The convention floor buzzed with activity. A low hum of conversation filled the space, punctuated by laughter and the occasional enthusiastic pitch. Stiles maneuvered through the crowd, scanning for his team's booth. It didn't take long to spot them—Scott was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, gesturing animatedly while talking to someone about the biological data integration within their app.

"Finally," Lydia said, arching a perfect brow as Stiles approached. "I was about to send a search party."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Had to make sure I look the part of Lead Developer," he said wryly.

No one could know that their team was led by an alpha.

Alphas weren’t trusted in leadership. Too aggressive. Too emotional. Too possessive. If they weren’t trying to dominate, they were acting recklessly. If they weren’t too competitive, they were too unstable. At best, they were considered useful muscle. At worst, a liability. A properly behaved alpha knew their place. Their options were limited—bodyguards, enforcers, security heads, or if they were lucky, a pack alpha who kept their aggression in check under the watchful eyes of beta and omega advisors.

It was one thing for Lydia to be open about being an alpha—she was their mathematician, a genius whose intelligence outweighed any prejudice against her designation. And with Jackson, her omega mate and their lawyer, at her side, she had built-in credibility. She also helped to cover any lingering "alpha scent" on Stiles or any other members of their team who needed to present differently.

Danny, their only actual beta that was present this weekend, barely looked up from his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. "You always do. Now help us look impressive."

Jackson smirked, "Like we don't already."

They quickly settled into a rhythm for the day, answering questions, giving demonstrations, and networking. Stiles ran through his pitch a dozen times, each delivery more polished than the last.

Then, a striking omega in an expensive tailored suit stopped in front of their booth, and Stiles straightened instinctively.

The man was sharp—sharp suit, sharp eyes, sharp scent. His gaze locked onto Stiles with an intensity that sent a flicker of unease down his spine.

"Peter Hale of Hale Industries," he said, grasping Stiles hand in a firm grip.

"Stiles," he responded, shaking his hand. "Stiles Stilinski."

[continue on ao3]

[endless-formsmostbeautiful]

Psycho and Subversion of Hitchcock Conventions

One thing I have noticed about Psycho that I think is less talked about is the way it subverts many of the conventions of Hitchcock's oeuvre.

One of Hitchcock's favourite plot lines was the 'wrong man' story, in which the hero is falsely accused of a crime; this appears in films ranging from The Lodger (1927), Spellbound (1945), I Confess (1953), Dial M for Murder (1954), The Wrong Man (1956), to North by Northwest (1959). If (like Psycho's original audience), a viewer was not already familiar with the film's twists, it seems like Psycho is building up to something like this. We are led to believe that it was Norman's mother who killed Marion and that he merely concealed the crime. Familiarity with Hitchcock's conventions would likely lead the viewer to think that Norman will be falsely accused of committing the crime himself, and will be tasked with proving his innocence.

We talk quite a bit about Hitchcock's female archetype, the icy blonde, but not as frequently about his male one: the tall, lanky, dark haired quirky young man. We see this archetype in Ivor Novello (The Lodger), Gregory Peck (Spellbound), Montgomery Clift (I Confess), Jimmy Stewart (The Man Who Knew Too Much), Henry Fonda (The Wrong Man), and Anthony Perkins seems to fit the type. The character to whom I think Norman bears the most resemblance is Gregory Peck's John Ballantyne in Spellbound. Ballantyne is an amnesia victim who adopts the identity of Dr Anthony Edwardes after witnessing his murder and is then accused of killing him. Here, the Ballantyne/Edwardes duality mirrors that of Norman/Norma. Compare this exchange from Spellbound:

- Being unable to face the truth of who he was, he collapsed. - You think he may have killed Edwardes? - There's no question of it. He killed Dr. Edwardes and took his place in order to conceal his crime by pretending the victim was still alive.

with this one from Psycho:

But in Norman's case, he was simply doing everything possible to keep alive the illusion of his mother being alive. And when reality came too close, when danger or desire threatened that illusion - he dressed up, even to a cheap wig he bought.

Both Norman Bates and John Ballantyne are driven to split identities to maintain an illusion of someone else being alive, the difference being that Ballantyne did not actually kill anyone.

There is also a sequence in both Spellbound and Psycho in which two characters pretend to be married on a honeymoon. Compare Spellbound:

- Alex, I'm so glad to see you. I was going to write to you but it happened so suddenly. I got married. - Who is married? - Why, Alex, my husband, John Brown.

with Psycho:

- We’d better decide what we're gonna say or do when we walk in there. - We're going to register as man and wife. We're going to get shown to a cabin... and then we're going to search every inch of the place, inside and out.

In both instances it is brought up that the characters do not have any luggage. In Spellbound:

- He may be sweet, but he didn't even ask us where our bags were. - Alex is always like that, in a complete dream state socially.

and in Psycho:

- I'll get your bags. - Haven't any. - I'll show you the room, then. - First time I've ever seen it happen. You check in any other place in this country without bags and you have to pay in advance.

[jpt1311summerbnixautumn]

Convention Blog Post

On August 1st, 2021, I went to Tampa Comic Con with my dad. This was the first and only convention I've ever been to, but I'm planning on going again with my dad this year at the end of August. At the time I was 15 and a very anxious teen so i was SO stressed about going and being judged. I had planned to cosplay as Nobara from Jujutsu Kaisen, but I decided last minute not to wear it because I didn't want to be embarrassed if I saw someone I knew while walking into the convention center (for context I lived an hour away from Tampa and there was no way I would see anyone I knew but you know when you're nervous you don't think clearly). I was very into manga and anime back then, and I was going with my dad because he's HUGE on Marvel and DC Comics, which I am also still interested in. I didn't have any big expectations going in, or really any sort of plan. I was hoping to buy some Chainsaw Man merch but that was really all I thought of ahead of time.

The convention was 3 days long: a Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. We decided to go on Sunday, when tickets were reduced and the convention closed earlier than it had the previous days. We also got there as soon as it opened, and I was praying that both of these conditions would make for it to be not nearly as busy as I was anticipating, but I never could've imagined how insanely packed it was. From the short walk to the parking lot to the center, we passed numerous people decked out in cosplays of all kinds. Some just wearing shirts with their favorite characters, others wearing an outfit that they bought from Amazon most likely, and a few people adorned in completely homemade cosplays that they had clearly spent days, if not weeks, completing. I didn't wear a cosplay because I thought I would be one of the only ones, but it turned out that my normal clothes were actually in the minority. After going through the long process of entering, getting our wristbands, and traversing the center to make it to the convention space, I was amazed at how many people I had already passed. And my shock only grew as we stepped inside the large room. The space was like a labyrinth, a maze with walls of tables and booths, filled with all kinds of merchandise. I had thought that fanmade anime merch like keychains and art prints would be the main thing being sold, but I was very wrong. There was a GIANT section right next to the entrance that was just at least 10 long tables of boxes filled with vintage comics. There were multiple woodworking booths that sold beautifully intricate sculptures and wall art that were all well over $300 (which seemed a very appropriate price for the amount of detail that was hand carved). It's easy to say that I was very overwhelmed by all this.

I have always LOVED people watching, and I've never been to a better place to do so than this convention. After walking around for about an hour just taking all of the information in, my dad and I went to a little snack stand and each got a cheeseburger and a drink. The few tables they had were full, so we sat against a wall and surveyed the crowd. People of all ages were cosplaying and interacting. I saw one middle aged man dressed as Batman go up to a kid dressed as the Joker who couldn't have been older than 12 and start pretending to have a rivalry with him. There were so many group costumes for things I couldn't have even imagined cosplaying. Another teenage girl was sat on the floor a few feet away from me with her group of friends, wearing her interpretation of Bill Cipher from the show Gravity Falls. It genuinely filled me with so much joy to be able to watch all of these diverse groups come together to just celebrate what they like. I was so nervous going in, but everyone there seemed so friendly and at ease, I couldn't help but feel a lot less embarrassed.

My dad and I sat on the floor for about an hour and finished our food, and we went to explore the rest of the convention. We stopped at almost every booth, and I had bought 2 things along the way, a Gojo Satoru poster for my friend's birthday, and a Neon Genesis Evangelion shirt for my other friend's birthday (all of our birthdays are within a week from each other so it was nice to be able to get their gifts all in one spot). The event didn't really seem like my dad's cup of tea, and I was getting worried that he wasn't having fun, but he reassured me that he was just enjoying walking around and hanging out. After 3 hours of being under bright fluorescent lights and surrounded by people and bright colors, we were both starting to get a headache and decided it was time for us to head out. I know lots of people stay at conventions from open to close every day that they run, and I have to give MAJOR props to them because I am not nearly strong enough for that. On the way out, my dad and I passed a booth that we missed before that was selling $5 vintage tees. I dragged him over to look and was SO excited because all of the shirts they had were actually really cool. He bought 2 Marvel shirts, and I was very happy that he wan't leaving empty handed. I also got 2 shirts, an oversized graphic tee of the 1987 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles show that my dad made me watch as a kid, and a Def Leppard shirt that I still wear to this day (shown below in a picture way too big for this post but it won't let me make it smaller).

3 years later, as a much more confident college student, I can't wait to return to Tampa Comic Con. I'm planning on wearing a Sailor Moon cosplay that I wore for halloween last year (added below in case anyone wanted to see), and after my previous experience, I'm no longer nervous about being judged. Comic Con is a place where the only requirement to be accepted is to be kind <3

(So so sorry this is over 1k words I just got really into writing about my experience and reminiscing. Please don't dock any points I'm just overly passionate)