#and why im good for the position and why i want it

[cyberhughes]

— 𝓣𝓸𝓸 𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ quinn hughes

🌊 chapter: feeling scandalous

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*:･✧* 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: quinn hughes x fem!oc

*:･✧* 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: swearing, luke and jack are flirty but it’s all platonic, suggestive content(nothing too spicy yet🌚)

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻�� 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: hey guys omfg…i’m so sorry this took so long I’ve been so busy😭😭uni is stressing me out so bad beyond belief but we ball!! this chapter is so shit cause lowkey its a filler just to build up more tension before we start getting *actually* juicy. this was also lowkey not rlly proofread LMAO. ALSO ALSO ALSO… we are almost at 200 followers?? wtf?? i didn’t even realize i had hit 100 im sorry i love you all so much and i appreciate all the love and support you’ve given me <3 perhaps i will plan a little surprise for you all later 😛

series masterlist + character intros

“WAKEY WAKEY!” the curtains were ripped open by jack, causing luke and aurora to shield themselves under the covers from the abrupt sunlight.

“what the fuck! close it!” luke complained, snuggling himself further into the warmth of the bedsheets. meanwhile, jack tiptoed to the foot of their bed, before mischievously yanking their blankets of off them.

“up and at em, let’s not waste a good boat day!” he stood there proudly, hands on his hips with a shit eating grin plastered across his face, not caring that he had just ruined their chance of a peaceful morning.

“later.” luke groaned, moving to pull aurora close to him, seeking at least the warmth from her body. “oh my god get off of me, i’m up.” she wiggled herself out of his arms and he whined.

she pushed past jack, him snorting at her hair being messy as well as her shirt hanging off one shoulder. “good morning to you too sleeping beauty.” he laughed—a bit too hard—at his own joke, while she stuck her tongue out at him before continuing her way the the washroom to freshen up.

as she stood there brushing her teeth, she couldn’t help but think back to her interactions with quinn yesterday. he had told her she didn’t do anything wrong, but she knew something was off with him. she knew that everyone else felt the tension too, she just couldn’t figure out why it was there in the first place.

she didn’t want to let this sour her trip, she was here for her brother after all. she’d just have to find a way for quinn to warm up to her again.

she creeped back into her and luke’s shared room, suppressing a laugh when she found him fast asleep again.

from her suitcase, she grabbed a bathing suit—that she didn’t remember packing? she held up the pieces straight, trying to remember when she had bought it. she dug through her luggage some more, looking for the one she knew she packed but it wasn’t anywhere to be seen. she sat back on her heels, puzzled.

then it clicked. she had remembered her best friend from california—kaylee—peeking through her suitcase a few days before they had left for their trip. she let out a groan, making a mental note to scold her friend later.

she examined the fabric once again and placed it against her body.

this wasn’t going to cover anything.

“wow, that’s tiny.” she heard luke mumble from the bed and her eyes widened, face going red.

“go back to sleep, idiot.”

“i look like a prostitute.” aurora said nodding with her lips pressed into a thin line as she rested her phone on the bathroom counter. she was currently on facetime with kaylee, the one who had put her in this situation.

“no, you look hot. you have to let quinn see that you got hot.” kaylee said with a fat grin on her face as she watched her bestfriend adjust and pull at the fabric of the bikini in a failed attempt to get some more coverage.

“it was so awkward yesterday kaylee.” aurora whined and grabbed her phone to position her face in frame. “he barely talked to me, and the one time he did, it felt like he would’ve rather been anywhere else.”

“then don’t let it be awkward the fuck? just, be flirty or something.” kaylee spoke nonchalantly.

“yeah no, i think he still sees me as a kid.”

“so then show him that you’re a hot woman now, i’m really struggling to see the problem here rory. just flash him your tits or something.” aurora’s cheeks went red at her friends words. “oh my god, stop it.” she mumbled as the girl on the other side of the phone cackled.

“i gotta go now, we’re going on the lake in a bit.” she took one last look in the mirror before throwing on her t-shirt and shorts. “okay bye rory. but seriously just flash a ti—“ aurora hung up before she could finish the sentence.

she couldn’t help but think that maybe kaylee was right, not about needing to flash her boobs, but about trying to make quinn see that she wasn’t a kid anymore. maybe it wasn’t the fact that she still had a crush on him, but rather that she felt the need to prove herself. although yes, she did still have a little big crush on him.

she felt slight twinge of guilt as she thought, it was her brother’s wedding weekend and here she was plotting on his best man. it was wrong.

but that’s what made it kind of exciting.

aurora stepped out onto the patio, breathing in the summer air and taking in the view of lake. the view was stunning, the backyard almost fully set up with decorations for the wedding. to put it shortly, it felt magical. in the distance, she saw everyone, asides from the parents who were out golfing, settling onto the boat.

“hurry up slowpoke!” luke cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling out. aurora rolled her eyes, adjusted the strap of her tote bag which was chronically falling down, and headed towards the boat.

“good morning.” she smiled as she passed quinn who was carrying a cooler of drinks. she paused her stride to notice the veins that popped out of his arms, and wow the way his hands looked as he gripped the handle and—

“morning, rory.” he said with a soft smile and she felt her stomach drop like she was on a rollercoaster, did he notice her checking him out?

“did you sleep okay last night?” he didn’t look up as he stepped into the boat, setting the cooler down and then offering his hand out to help her in.

she felt like she was having whiplash, he was acting normal now? she took his hand and stepped in, “yeah it was great. lukey’s a snorer though.” she laughed and he nodded. she had to hide a frown as he let go of her hand.

“are you shit talking me right now?” luke walked over with his arms crossed, looking down at aurora through his sunglasses. “yeah, we’re shit talking you severely, i hate you so much.” she gave a sarcastic smile and scooted past him to greet melissa.

luke scoffed, “pft, she loves me. couldn’t keep her hands off me last night.” he said jokingly as he rested his hands on the back of his head, not noticing how quinn didn’t laugh, only pressing his lips into an awkward smile.

“oh gross, luke.” ashton smacked the top of his head, luke pouting as he fixed his cap.

“that was you who couldn’t keep your hands off!” aurora protested as melissa giggled beside her. she rolled her eyes then turned to fully face her soon to be sister in law. “so, are you starting to get nervous or anything?” aurora questioned and she shrugged.

“i don’t think i’m really that nervous,” she began, flipping her sunglasses up to rest on the top of her head. “am i nervous that it could rain or i could trip and fall walking? yeah of course, but I’ve never once felt nervous about marrying your brother, i actually can’t wait.” she blushed and aurora could feel her heart melting, she admired their relationship so much. it was something about they way they spoke about each other, like it was always meant to be.

“alright guys, we ready to go?” quinn asked and everyone cheered, excited to spend the day in the sun before the chaos of the wedding began.

“COWABUNGA!” jack launched himself off the edge of the boat, earning complaints from the group as he splashed water everywhere.

“idiot…” aurora chuckled as she stared down at her clothes which were now soaked, it was to be expected, they were having a lake day afterall.

she whipped her head at the sound of stomping coming towards her and melissa, to which she found her brother getting a running start to jump in, luke following not far behind.

“wow so much for curling my hair.” melissa joked, stepping out of her sundress and heading over to the side, letting ashton help her down.

“come on you two!” ashton exclaimed from the water, waiting on aurora and quinn.

aurora bit her lip, here goes nothing. she first took off her shorts, throwing them on top her her tote, then peeled off her shirt, revealing the bikini kaylee had planted. it was honestly a really nice bikini, the lack of coverage was where the problem lied.

from behind her, quinn could be seen with his jaw clenched, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he took in the sight. to most, his expression could be mistaken for annoyance or anger, but that wasn’t quite what was happening here.

she looked back over her shoulder, offering quinn a small smile as her cheeks turned a soft pink, “coming, quinn?”

her smile faltered when she noticed his expression. shit- was he mad? maybe he was mad that she was practically naked, after all they weren’t the only group out on the lake. there were other families boating and swimming around.

she snapped out of her thoughts when she heard jack whistle, “damn, looking good rory!” he cackled, before ashton splashed him in the face. “i’m serious you guys, that’s my baby sister, stop being fucking creeps.” he scoffed.

aurora jumped in and lingered under the water, wanting to hide the way her cheeks burned in embarrassment, not from jack’s comment, but rather at the fact that she had upset quinn.

for the rest of the day, they had spent their time swimming around, wakeboarding, munching on the delicious charcuterie board melissa had prepared, and playing some card games. it had been the perfect way for the soon to be married couple to relax before becoming fully preoccupied with their wedding, not forgetting to express their gratitude to quinn every chance they got.

they were now headed back to the house, in time to meet their parents for a nice dinner. aurora had her head rested on luke’s shoulder as she was being lulled to sleep from the soft rocking of the boat, as well as being exhausted from the day’s activities.

after a rather silent but calm ride, they had made it back to the dock, their parents being seen lounging on the patio enjoying a few drinks.

the group had gathered their things and headed towards the house, not noticing the way aurora stalled to gather her things as she watched quinn bustle around.

“you ready to go?” he asked, expression blank as he stood on the dock, reaching his hand out. the sight reminiscent of the interaction they had shared that morning.

she nodded, placing her hand in his, and it seemed to fit perfectly. she stepped over but didn’t notice the small puddle of water on the step and her eyes went wide as she slipped into him, for the second time in the past two days.

she gulped as they stood chest to chest, her hands rested on his shoulders as his own resting on her arms to stabilize her. she didn’t pull away, instead looking up at him with her mouth slightly agape in shock. her heart thumped in her chest and she was sure he could feel it as she gazed into his eyes, being met with that unrecognizable look she had seen yesterday.

he stared into her eyes, also at a loss for words. his eyes flickered down at the contact between them, the way her chest had been pressed onto him for longer than it should have. abruptly he let go of her arms, letting her stand on her own.

“quinn, i’m sorry-“

“you’re good.” he mumbled before grabbing his things and practically booking it away and back to the house.

she ran her hands through her hair. great, not only did she embarrass him in front of everyone with her bikini, but now she had fallen onto him a second time.

way to seduce him, aurora.

the soft breeze blowing through bedroom curtains was all that could be heard throughout the night, before it was abruptly interrupted by knocking on wood. quinn’s eyes slowly peeled open when he heard the noise at his door. he peeked over at his phone that rested on his bedside table.

2:17 am.

the knocking continued and he sighed, getting up from the warmth of his bed and shuffling over to open the door. assuming it was one of his brothers, he immediately let out a sharp “what do you want?”

but to his surprise, it was aurora standing on the other side of his door.

“‘m sorry.” she whispered softly and he shook his head “no, i thought you were jack or luke. what’s up?” he gazed down at her and his eyebrows furrowed. why the hell she still wearing her bikini?

“couldn’t sleep.” she stepped into his room, closing the door behind her, leaning back on it as she look up at him with hooded eyes. his eyes widened as he stood frozen, watching her begin to creep toward him like a cat getting ready to pounce on a mouse.

“can you help me sleep, quinny?” she whispered, rising onto her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck.

his breath hitched when he felt her lips graze against his ear. “need you to help me, quinny.”

he felt chills run down his spine, what the fuck was happening? this was so wrong. he should have told her to back off, he shouldn’t have let her get that close, but god the way her cold fingers felt as she grazed them back down his shoulders, down to his chest, stomach, the waistband of his shorts—

���WAKE UP, QUINTIN! WE HAVE A LOT TO DO!” ashton’s voice boomed on the other side of his door as he shot up, hairline slightly drenched with sweat, breathing heavy as he looked around his room. he ran a hand over his face and groaned before peeking down at the tent in his shorts.

no fucking way.

[mythalism]

i think what people need to understand is that no amount of essays assuring me of veilguard's strengths, of which i agree there are plenty, is going to change the fact that the emotional experience veilguard prompted within me (and for many others) while i played it was a deeply negative one. discomfort at best, painful at worst. im talking stomach aches. visceral, somatic creeping disappointment and dread that i tried to fight for hours and hours but eventually had no choice but to accept. i stopped wanting to play entirely around 30 hours. i felt vaguely ill. i felt anxious. i could not sleep for a few days. and im not saying i felt sick because it was so bad, but that i felt sick because of the sinking realization that i was about to be terribly, horribly disappointed after so, so long. you could call me dramatic and im sure someone will. idk what to tell you. my emotions manifest physically long before they become decipherable or understandable to me mentally, especially when they're 10 years in the making. probably an autism symptom. regardless, it was genuinely pretty awful, especially because i had immense good faith for this game. i was so hopeful and optimistic and generally thrilled and literally anyone who followed me before october 31 would know that. the emotional whiplash and crash was intense and devastating, and i was reeling for days. you cannot tell me that this experience was "wrong" or "toxic" due to it's negative nature. it was entirely involuntary and outside of my control, as i would expect many people's joy was. emotional reactions are not beholden to fandom discourse.

any post i have made criticizing the game since is attempt to make sense of the emotional roller-coaster of the past 10 years, this summer, and finally this game's release. i do not come on here and write out my criticisms of veilguard because i want YOU to dislike it too. the nature of my essays are not persuasive. if they do persuade you its just because i am a well-trained essayist. sorry. if they dont, great! that wasnt the point. i have no desire to change anyone's mind on the game, in fact i actually would not wish the disappointment i felt on anyone. the fact that i have a lot of followers who agree with what i say and who spread the thoughts i express across tumblr is literally out of my control. when i write out my long-winded criticisms, it is out of a need to express and externalize that sinking, cold feeling i had while playing, in pursuit of understanding exactly why playing that game felt that way to me. identifying, analyzing and verbalizing is the only way i have been able to process my experience. its confessional and therapeutic more than anything. it helps other people understand their own difficult emotional process with the game. its not an attempt to ruin your fun. my negative experience with veilguard does not invalidate anyone else's positive one.

i see so many posts acting like all criticism is an intentional, targeted hate campaign and i dont understand that assumption. to what ends? what would that achieve? why would i bother with such a thing? maybe that is some people's intention in the deep hater corners of this website, and im blissfully unaware. if it is, fuck them. its certainly the intention of annoying grifters, but i feel the distinction between transphobe grifters and devastated fans is pretty clear, so im not sure why the lines are deliberately blurred as if those groups are remotely similar. some of my criticisms come from a more objective place. the writing comes to mind, and it's a consistent criticism from thousands of players. but just because i consider it to be poorly executed, does not make it unlovable. and when i say that i think its poorly done, i am not saying that you cannot or should not love it, or that you are stupid for loving it. maybe someone out there is saying that!!! but i am not. things do not have to be perfect to be enjoyable. they dont even have to be well executed to be enjoyable. "i think x aspect of veilguard is poorly done for yz reasons" is a completely different sentence than "you should not like x aspect of veilguard for yz reasons". these are not the same statements. i see so many posts that are so vitriolic and acting like two experiences of this game cannot coexist, that one has to win and be objectively right, moralizing them on a false axis of positivity = good and negativity = bad, and acting like the existence of one negates the experience of the other. and why? why would that be true? i literally love so many things that other people think are absolute ass. i also love plenty of things that i myself think are actual ass. i love them anyway. this is allowed and really fun. i am not sure who told you that it is not.

however, i have just as much of a right to express my disappointment as you have to express your excitement. i am genuinely happy for everyone who loves the game, i am glad it resonated, or that you saw yourself in its characters, or that it just scratched your hyperfixation itch. but whatever je ne se quoi it had for you, it did not have for me. i have written out so much criticism about so many aspects of the game, but fundamentally what it comes down to and what i cannot express in words is that while i played after waiting 10 years for that moment, it felt wrong. it wasn't that i had specific expectations for game story that were not met, in fact, it exceeded my expectations in a lot of ways. i mean that in terms of how i felt, something was off. it did not resonate. it did not land. it did not hit the right cord with me. i did not have enough moments of joy to outweigh the feeling of emptiness. i did not walk away from it feeling the way that the previous games made me feel. and ive been trying to figure out exactly why that is for three months now by talking about it with people who feel similarly. i am not sure that i will ever be able to analyze my way into figuring it out. it might just have to simply be that it left me bereft.

and so my posts are not anti-veilguard hater propaganda to make you feel like shit for loving the game. rather, they are me verbally processing exactly why i feel like shit so i can hopefully stop feeling like shit. to assume that people who are trying to process these negative feelings are toxic and intentionally malicious is a projection made in bad faith. i love dragon age, and it is because i love it so much that it disappointed me, and it is because disappointed me that i have to verbally process it on tumblr.com so that i dont go absolutely insane. i tag my posts properly. i do not go into tags where i do not belong. i do not rage-bait. i am participating in post-partum dragon age therapy between me and my followers. if it ends up on your dash, sorry. my therapy is popular i guess. so please for the love of god enjoy the game, freely and enthusiastically. i am happy for you. i will sit here and be jealous that it spoke to something in your soul that it unfortunately did not speak to in mine, and nothing i say can take that away from you. please stop interpreting it as an attempt to.

[dfortrafalgar]

Gentle

Law doesn't like his hands, but a little bird on his shoulder says otherwise.

Warnings: None <3 just a short fluffy drabble

A/N: Going through my google drive means uncovering all of the unfinished request fics... and general unposted fics, of which there are many oopsies ;w; Every time I come back to this blog I forget how to format my posts. But im back on my one piece brainrot bullshit so you'll be seeing more from me again!

Law’s hands were littered with deep scars and rough calluses.  The pads of his lean fingers were hardened, barely there fingerprints left on the pages of his books.  His palms were cold, thick skin keeping the warmth out.  His tattoos only seemed to heighten the poor image of his hands, the black-inked word of “DEATH” spread out on his fingers.  The cold man had no positive feelings regarding his hands.  While they could give life, they also took it away.  His hands caused loss more than they granted the privilege of a heart beat.  Cold as ice and hard as stone.

But you nestled your cheek into his hand like a warm, downy blanket.

You entwined your fingers with his, stroking the side of his hand with your thumb, filling his chest with a tachycardia.  You would always laugh at the way blood rushed to his cheeks.

Your hands guided his own to your body, across your neck, shoulders, down to your collarbones, along your breasts, trailing fleeting patterns down your sides like electric shocks.  Your eyes closed in bliss as he embraced you, mouth parted with a content smile.

One day, Law finally thought to ask you.

“Why do you like my hands so much?”

His voice was more stern than he wanted it to be, but you showed no change in your calm demeanor as you turned your head towards him, a smile growing on your lips.  “You’re always so gentle with me.  Your hands feel so nice.”

Your simple response made Law’s brain brownout.  His eyes widened the tiniest amount, and you covered your mouth with the back of your hand to stifle your laugh.

“Is it really so surprising?” you added.

Law shook his head, snapping out of it.  “No, I suppose not.”

The way his eyebrows furrowed in his ever-permanent pouting expression gave you all the answers you needed.  You stood from your seat and paced your way toward the man, putting a tender hand on his shoulder as you leaned forward to peck a sweet kiss to the side of his scruffy cheek.  

“I know you don’t feel the way I do,” you whispered, reaching your other hand downward to ghost your fingers across the tattoo on the back of his hand that rested on an open journal of notes.  “But I really do love your hands.  They bring life.  They’re warm and gentle.”  Your fingers made their way under Law’s palm, encouraging him to flip his hand over so you could trail the pads of your fingers across his calloused distal palmar.  “They’re also rough, like a fortress.  Like a shelter.  And I love that.”

Law couldn’t see your face from behind him, but he could hear the bright smile you adorned through your tone of voice.

“Never heard of them referred to as a ‘fortress,’” he responded to you, voice low and apprehensive as he watched your fingers dance across his own upturned ones.

“They’re my fortress,” you stated.  “I love when you hold me.”

He simply chuckled.  “You’re too cheesy for your own good.”

You retracted your hand from his, instead wrapping both your arms around his shoulders, leaning your head into his plush hat.  “You love it when I’m cheesy.”

A bubbly laugh finally emerged from his lungs.  “I do.”

[elssero]

YOOO CONGRATS ON 1K !!! <333 i’ll totally send in an ask for funsies hehehe (but ofc no pressure to write it!)

sooo how abt a one shot with reader and teenage hawks (like 17 or 18? but definitely before he has his official hero debut) and him and her started as partners at the commission, but they click from the start and are total trauma bonded best friends to lovers

ANYWAYS THEY’RE TRAINING TOGETHER BC THEIR HERO DEBUTS ARE COMING UP SOON AND SO THEY SPAR 🤗 he flirts, she flirts, he get flustered, she pins him and wins the match, they both go quiet and stare at each other longer than “just friends” would—

the age old story that i eat up every time tbh 😪 bonus points if he confesses and lands an actual non-platonic date with her, but i’ll leave it up to youuu <3

impending lovers.

hawks

-from partners in the commission, to friends, and maybe something more.

part of my 1k event! submit your asks!

‘ready to get your ass beat today birdboy?’

keigo stands around 15 paces in front of you, an amused look on his face.

‘i thought i told you to stop calling me that’

the gym is empty other than you two, it gives you the ability to speak freely, act freely, a small sense of freedom. but only when it’s just you and him.

you had originally thought it best to ignore him, all those years ago when he was brought into the commission just a couple of months after you were.

he was.. a distraction.

you think he still is.

but when he smiled at you on the first day you met him you knew it was no use.

‘you finally decided on a hero name?’

‘oh um yeah- i think im going for hawks.’

hawks. it suited him. it felt powerful, matched his huge- beautiful red wings. it’s why you had suggested it in the first place.

‘you went for my suggestion huh?’

he looks away- maybe a little embarrassed. bashful and blushing at your realisation that he picked the only name you suggested.

it’s always been like this. you tease and you laugh, border on flirting until- nothing. nothing ever happens, your beginning to think nothing ever will, although that’s probably for the best.

‘of course i did- come on, we’re wasting good sparing time’

the first part of his sentence is hushed, whispered, as though he doesn’t want you to hear it.

you don’t comment on it, instead you get into position, fists in front of your face to avoid a potential quick attack from him.

you’ll always find yourself here, standing in front of him, a couple feet away, just slightly out of reach.

he doesn’t count down, instead lunging towards you in one quick movement. you watch his hands, he’s not looking to punch, it’s more of a grab, a push maybe.

you move to the left- not quick enough, he trips you up with the side of his wing but the impact sends you both tumbling in the same direction.

neither of you give up, tossing around on the ground- hands reaching to grab the others in an attempt to stop them moving.

you hook his legs on yours, immobilising his lower half before you climb over him, giving yourself the upper hand.

it’s harder for him to fight you from below you, he’s trying to push you off, but your legs have his in a vice and it becomes clear to him that your not going anywhere.

you have his hands now, pinned together above his head, he’s attempts to move his wings, but their trapped under both of your body weights. you have him.

you haven’t really been looking at him- other than predicting where he was going to put his hands, he’s unmoving now, accepting defeat. it gives you a second to look at him, his face.

he’s staring at you, your faces are alot closer than you thought. your nose is inches from his, you can feel his breath on your face, you can feel his chest rise and fall.

your staring at each other now- and he has this look in his eye, you’ve seen it before, for split seconds. it’s admiration- but there’s something more. he looks almost dazed.

you want to move- but you can’t. there’s nothing holding you down but the idea of ruining this moment- so delicate, soft. it breaks your heart.

you can’t indulge, you’ve never let yourself before. you see him, of course you do. you’ve always saw him.

you see him fly, you see him laugh, and cry- your the only one who ever sees him.

it hurts that he’ll never see you too.

it’s better to push him away, don’t let yourself indulge.

in one quick movement your separated from him, you miss the look of panic in his eyes as he jumps up after you.

walking away, going to grab your water or a rag to dry the sweat, just anything to have a little space from him.

you don’t make it far.

‘wait- stop-!’ his voice is a little frantic- whatever he’s about to do is unplanned.

‘how long are we going to pretend?’

it catches you of guard- he’s gripping your hand, spinning you towards him. the look of upset on his face breaks your heart all over again.

‘what are you talking about?’

he shakes his head, even lets out a little laugh, as though he’s saying something obvious that your not understanding.

but there’s something desperate about the way he’s holding your hand in his, about the uneven breaths he’s letting out, about the way he’s looking at you.

he’s desperate- and suddenly it all makes sense.

‘i can’t keep pretending you don’t mean everything to me.’

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Mad Woman"

ok yall im out of school now! this was rushed so don't judge, when i write i just pour out whatever's in my head, that's why it's almost always rushed. i feel like if i don't write it, it'll disappeare! also to everyone hating in my asks, NO ONE IS FORCING YOU TO READ MY WORK!!!! hating does nothing but discourage me and lower my already non-existent confidence in my writing. pls leave me alone, if you don't have anything nice to say; don't say anything. i LOVE all my positive asks and comments, they make my day. don't ruin it for me.

Six months, that's how long it's been since Bruce exiled you to New York and left you alone once again. It's been 387 days since Tiffany Maverick pulled the rug from beneath your feet and ensnared your family in her web of lies and manipulation. For six months, your family ignored you, only Alfred sending you the occasional care package which you promptly threw in the garbage.

You wish Tiffany and Damian were as content with ignoring you as the rest of the family but unfortunately, they went out of their way to rub their closeness in your face by sending you pictures of family movie night, family game night, and the family attending their school events. It made you angry at first, before you saw how funny it was. A family of billionaires, a family of detectives, a family of vigilantes, sitting next to a spy; obliviously feeding her insider information. The Batman, sitting grinning ear to ear next to a girl who could be his downfall.

Surprisingly, boarding school was amazing. The boys were hot, though most arrogant and dumb, they were all loaded and into you. The girls idolized you from the moment you walked in, your word was law around here and the power felt amazing. You decided what was in and out, who was hot and who was not; a huge difference and change of pace from the years of bullying and ridicule at Gotham Prep.

The charm came with your new abilities, most likely. Sure, the first two months were fucking painful and exposed you to pain you didn't think was possible but it was a small price to pay. It was nothing for the power of being able to charm and flirt your way out of just about anything, being able to eject venom with the slightest trace of your fresh set of acrylics, being able to literally bite people with your fangs and have them enjoy it, sensing heat signatures and feeling emotions and eyes on you, having the ability to give literal bone-crushing hugs, and so many things you haven't even discovered.

Not to mention your random overnight makeover! Suddenly, your figure was to die for, perfect in all senses of the word. Your skin gleamed and shimmered in the light, long shed away were all the blemishes and scars. Your hair always shiny and your teeth always pearly white, albeit a bit sharp. You're the image of beauty.

Who cares about the price when the product was this good anyway?

Who needed familial love when everyone here worshipped you? That new view and utter hatred for the family is what convinced you to accept Ariele, your boarding school bff and roomie,'s offer to spend summer break with her family in the south of france. Of course, you wanted to go back to manor for a week before meeting her there. Alfred asked you to come and though you were angry at him, you missed the old man. You swore to yourself that you'd only stay the night, catch up with Alfred, and ignore your 'family' then promptly spend the summer half naked, tanning on a super yacht with your girls.

Little did you know that you'd never make it to france, in fact, you wouldn't even make it out the manor now that Tim discovered the truth and told the rest of the family.

Tim Drake noticed things. Small things. Minute details that other people might overlook. That's how he found the truth.

It started with the cooking. Tiffany had casually mentioned one evening that she’d found some old recipes in the manor’s archives, recipes that you had once written down, hoping to impress Damian with Arabic dinners and desserts. Tiffany had barely glanced at the handwritten notes before she had offered to make dinner that night—a perfect replica of your signature stuffed cabbage leaves, Malfoof, as you called it.

Tim had been there when it happened. He’d recognized it immediately. The dish was one of your favorites, one you had made for family dinners. It was too familiar, too precise for Tiffany, it lacked the usual love and effort.

Then came the awards. It was subtle at first, too. Tiffany casually dropping that she had “entered a local baking competition” and how much fun it had been to win. Tim had known that you had been the one to actually win that competition the year before, he remembered rolling his eyes as you foolishly tried to impress him. But when he checked the award Tiffany had won? It looked eerily similar to the one that you had earned. Tiffany didn’t even bother hiding her gloating as she showed it off, calling it “another step toward making Gotham proud.”

Tim’s stomach churned. It wasn’t a coincidence. Tiffany was stealing your life and he was the only one that saw it. Who knows what else she was stealing.

The pieces clicked into place when he found the old photo albums. Tiffany had been snooping around the library one afternoon, pulling out albums that had been tucked away in the back, ones that hadn’t been touched in years. They were full of memories of your achievements, pictures of family vacations, awards won for charity work and academic excellence. Baby photo's, old camera's, journals, even old clothes.It wasn’t just admiration. It was an obsession.

He saw her dig through and read every one of your old entries, saw her stare at pictures and attempt to manuever her body how you stood, but what really creeped him out was when she started tracing over your handwriting.

Tim couldn’t let it go. This was insane. It was almost as if Tiffany wanted to wear your skin.

It wasn’t that he wanted to make Tiffany an enemy or villainize her, quite the opposite actually, he'd been ignoring her strange behavior and smell for a year now because of how fond he was of her. But this? This was crossing a line. She wasn’t just trying to fit in anymore, this was dangerous.

He now suspected there was more to Tiffany than just her obsession with your life and after putting the pieces together, it was becoming clear: Tiffany was playing a much deeper game. She wasn’t just trying to steal your identity, she was stealing information, too.

Tim’s investigative skills had been honed through years of being the tech guy of the Batfamily, and when something felt off, he didn’t ignore it. Not anymore, he started tracking small anomalies—times when Tiffany’s presence seemed too convenient, moments when crucial data about Gotham’s underworld went missing from the Batcomputer, or when confidential mission details were leaked through channels Tim knew the Batfamily didn’t use. Times when the Joker seemed to know the family's course of action and times when villains knew Duke's plans.

That’s when it clicked.

Tiffany wasn’t just trying to fit in with the family. She was spying. Her affections with the family were a cover for something darker. She had been gathering intelligence for a shadowy organization, feeding them vital information about their operations. This was bigger than him—this was a full-blown infiltration. Tiffany was working for someone else, someone dangerous.

Tiffany’s betrayal ran deep, and her spying wasn’t just about information anymore; it was personal. She had been stealing pieces of your life, your successes, your talents , your family. She had slowly taken everything that you had worked for and twisted it into her own false narrative. It was sickening.

Tim couldn’t stand it anymore. He had dug through encrypted files, tracked hidden transmissions, and pieced together cryptic conversations. Tiffany wasn’t just trying to steal your identity for the sake of becoming the perfect family member. No. She was mimicking your cooking and baking skills, down to the awards she had won for those very talents. She had been trying to erase you and replace you with a manufactured version of herself.

It was almost too much for Tim to handle. But there was something even worse lurking beneath the surface: the deeper he dug, the more it became clear that Tiffany wasn’t just feeding information to criminals. She had been feeding off your spirit, your presence and she had nearly replaced you entirely.

Now he just needed to tell the other.

The tension in the Batcave could be cut with a knife as Tim stood before Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian, Duke, Cass, Steph, Barbara, and Alfred, ready to show them what he had discovered.

“I’ve been tracking Tiffany’s movements for the last few days,” Tim began, his voice low but sharp. “And I found something that’s... unsettling.”

Bruce, who had been scanning a mission report, looked up with interest. Dick turned to Tim, a puzzled expression on his face. Alfred stepped forward, his usual composed demeanor now replaced with a rare concern. Even Damian looked confused.

“What did you find, Master Tim?” Alfred asked, his tone calm, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes.

Tim didn’t hesitate. He clicked a button on the computer, and the large screen behind him flickered to life. A series of encrypted files appeared—mission logs, surveillance footage, and even intercepted communications. The Batcave was suffocating in its silence as Tim presented the evidence to Bruce, Dick, Jason, Alfred, and the others. His fingers flew over the keyboard, and every new image, every new file, felt like a punch in the gut.

There was a long silence as everyone processed the information. Bruce’s usual stoic expression faltered for a moment, and Dick clenched his fists. The weight of the revelation was hitting hard, but it wasn’t just the betrayal that hurt. It was that someone in their midst had been pulling the strings behind their backs for a year.

The data was damning. It was all there, proof that Tiffany had been copying your recipes, your designs, your machines, even stealing the culinary awards that you had earned over the years. And on top of that, she had been siphoning critical Batfamily intel to an unknown organisation. The information was so sensitive, it could have jeopardized every single one of them.

“Do you see it now?” Tim’s voice was quieter, but his anger was unmistakable. He flicked the last file onto the screen. Tiffany’s false accomplishments, stolen directly from you. The stolen recipes. The mission intel sent out from the Batcomputer under her watch. “All of us have been blind to it.”

“About a month ago,” Tim said, “I found an odd encryption pattern in the Batcomputer—something I’ve never seen before. When I decrypted it, I found a set of mission details. Ones that shouldn’t have left the system. I traced the origin back to Tiffany.”

Alfred's face tightened as he took in the footage on the screen. It was a recording of Tiffany accessing classified Batfamily data, tapping into their most sensitive files.

“She’s been stealing information,” Tim continued, his voice gaining intensity. “Every single time she’s interacted with the Batcomputer, she’s been sending that data out to an unknown address. I can't track where it's coming from, it's too advanced; even for me.

“Impossible,” Bruce muttered, but his eyes were narrowing in disbelief. “Why would she—?”

“Because she’s a spy,” Tim interrupted, “and it gets worse. She’s been feeding them everything. Our weaknesses, our next moves, our schedules. She’s not just a mole in the manor. She’s been working against us this whole time. She's why so many missions have failed.Tim’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not just the family’s accomplishments she’s been stealing. She’s been getting close to each of us, using our trust. She knows things, personal things, and she’s been leaking that information. She’s been feeding it to the highest bidder, giving Gotham’s worst players a playbook for taking us down.”

Dick’s face twisted with disbelief. “She was pretending to be (y/n), taking her accomplishments as her own, but—” He trailed off, his voice faltering. “How could we have let this happen? How did we not notice?”

Jason’s voice cut through the heavy silence, rough and sharp, like a crack of thunder. He stepped forward, fists clenched. “I should’ve known. She’s been playing everyone, pretending like she’s all sweet and innocent, but she was using all of us.” Jason’s eyes flicked to the screen, then back at Tim, his face a mask of fury. “She lied to me. She’s been lying to all of us. And she’s been trying to replace her.” His hand slammed onto the table, and the anger in his voice was unmistakable. “She doesn’t belong here. We trusted her. We all trusted her.” Jason’s anger bubbled over. This betrayal, the way Tiffany had wormed her way into their lives, made him see red

He couldn’t keep it in any longer. “I should’ve known,” Jason spat, pacing in circles, his fists clenched tight at his sides. “I let her get close to me. I let her in, we all did! And now look at this. She’s been pretending to be everything she’s not. She’s been trying to take her place, her rightful place in this family!”

Alfred, who had been silent until now, cleared his throat, his voice filled with quiet but growing fury. “I should have seen it,” he muttered, his gaze darkening. “I was too lenient with her. I allowed her to slip through the cracks, to play at being part of this family. I should have known better.” His usually calm demeanor was cracking, and the regret in his voice was palpable.

Bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line as the weight of Tim’s words sank in. His eyes hardened as he stared at the screen, disappointment creeping into his features. Tiffany had been their guest, their supposed family, and this whole time, she had been playing them all. You had tried to warn them.

Duke, who had been standing quietly at the back of the room, spoke up. His voice was low but steady.

“I knew something was off,” Duke said, his eyes fixed on the screen. “I couldn’t put my finger on it, but... she’d been acting weird around me. Always asking questions—asking about the family, the missions, everything. I thought I was paranoid.”

Damian had always been fiercely protective of what he considered his, no one could ever doubt that. He mocked you, saw you as his pathetic bastard older sister, he had wanted to hurt you. But now, as the reality of Tiffany’s betrayal settled in, something darker began to take root inside him. He remember your unconditional love for him, how you took everything he said did to you with grace and compassion. He remembered how good you were to him. He noticed that everything he thought he loved about Tiffany was what she stole from you. His eyes burned with rage as he thought about how Tiffany had wormed her way into the family and his heart, how she’d stolen your accomplishments, and how she’d attempted to erase his sibling from the very fabric of their world.

She was trying to replace her. That thought alone made his fists tighten, nails biting into his palms.

It had been a long time since Damian had felt this kind of protective rage. He was the blood of the Wayne family, the one who deserved to be at the center of it all, but you; his blood sibling, his equal, had always been ignored, undervalued ridiculed and neglected. And now Tiffany, a mere interloper, had dared to manipulate and tear him away from you.

Damian watched the family, his gaze flicking to each of them as they tried to process the betrayal. The anger from his family was palpable, but there was something else there too: possessiveness. Protectiveness. regret. They weren’t just angry at Tiffany for what she had done to you, they were furious at themselves for pushing you away and leaving you alone and unprotected in New York.

You were his responsibility, his blood, and no one; not even Tiffany, was going to steal you away from him. He had always wanted to prove his superiority to the others, but now that wasn’t his focus. His attention was fixed solely on bringing you back to him, where you belonged.

Cass, who had been silently observing, nodded. Her face was unreadable, but the tension in her jaw told Tim that she, too, had been sensing something wrong for weeks.

Steph, ever the sharp observer, had her arms crossed over her chest, her usual sarcasm now tempered with a cold seriousness. “I knew she wasn’t perfect, but this? This is next-level crazy. Are you sure bout this Time?” She leaned forward, her voice suddenly harder.

Barbra was too shocked to say anything. This was not how today was supposed to go.

Alfred glanced toward Bruce. “Master Bruce,” he said softly, “the level of infiltration, this is something I never anticipated. We should have seen the signs.”

Bruce’s expression was steely. “We were too distracted, too willing to accept her presence as part of the family. We let our guard down.”

“That’s not just her fault,” Dick interjected. “We’ve all been too trusting. Especially with everything that happened with (y/n).” His voice hardened as he glanced at the screen again, eyes flicking to Tim. “What now? What do we do about it?”

Tim stepped forward, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I’ve already notified our allies. The information she’s passed is enough to give this organization an upper hand in Gotham, maybe beyond. She hasn't revealed our identities but she might soon. we can’t let her get away with it. She’s been playing us this whole time.”

Steph threw her hands up in exasperation. “So what, we just let her go? She’s been lying to us, manipulating us for months! ?”

Tim’s eyes were cold, calculating. “We’ll have to trap her. Use the information she’s already stolen to set her up. Once we confront her, we’ll make sure she doesn’t get away.”

Bruce’s fists were clenched at his sides, his jaw set in stone. He had failed [Y/N]—he had failed his child. The weight of that was too much for him to bear. “This ends now. We’re going to fix this.”

Ok yall since apparently 8 ppl think my work is absoulte shit and and SURE i knew how they felt this is pretty rushed and i feel like it sucks! anyway!! i hope at least some people enjoy <33 send in nice aks and questions and ideas pls. its so fun answering them. yall are mind readers and are so creative!! lmk if there's any typos bc I copy-pasted half of it from my notes app. yeah i did write half of this when i was supposed to be in class, and??? Next chapter Tiffany gets confronted, reader comes home, Batfam start groveling and regretting their actions, sort of on their way to yandere-ism and make reader move back to gotham to be closer to "family"

[sunshades]

Ok i let the intervallo simmer here's some thoughts:

- it's true this intervallo is comedic and kind of "not that deep" (bear with me a sec) and negative interactions aren't to be taken That seriously like im seeing a lot of people do

- BUT this can also absolutely be a negative thing and i agree theres a lot of bits where it doesnt feel good to read. Sinclair is getting the scaredy little baby writing, Heathcliff is getting the haha delinquent writing, ishmael has this constant "joke about water/ships/whales/whatever"- we kinda know by now the sinners who had their canto already have a noticeable drop in quality (even yi sang whose writing always gets the most care at times falls into a comic relief role)

- at the same time, wondering why the group isn't being That friendly... especially "the sinners are suddenly so mean to heathcliff and treating him like he's stupid" is just. guys. they never stopped. this was how don quixote -the one he's consistently been the kindest towards- was treating him in TKT, barely a couple weeks after canto 6 in universe LOL

- it just... feels disingenuous to say "but they were such good friends in canto 7" when that whole scene came a bit out of the blue? the sinners have never been close friends all the way to canto 7- let's not forget how in MOTWE it was important to see Faust, meursault and ishmael have a couple moments with the other sinners (faust and ishmael with each other, faust with yi sang and dante, meursault with don and heathcliff) because the whole game they barely had any positive interactions. ishmael for example has shot down gregor's attempts at befriending her a couple times in the past, and never really felt indebted towards heathcliff for worrying about her in canto 5 (or at least that never made her want to be nicer to him)- but those aren't writing mistakes when she herself in LCB checkup even jokes about being kinda awful at making/keeping friends. she's just kinda like that. "im not that nice"

- that being said there are a lot of interactions in the checkup that imply they are actually getting closer. hong lu and sinclair are in good terms, meursault apparently now interacts with the others pretty often, ishmael and yi sang watch over don quixote (pretty significant when u consider one of ish's few interactions with don was calling her delusional in canto 5), ryoshu is interested in don, and i think even ishmael and ryoshu's squabble is interesting considering their last interaction was in canto 4 (where they were getting along even less). the intervallo definitely has some writing pitfalls but i think it's absolutely better if you keep in mind what the text has been telling us in all the chapters that lead up to it, not just counting c7's climax as something so completely defining of everyone's characters.

[deepseasmetro]

hi! i’m intersex —sorry abt being on anon btw, i would’ve dm’d if i could’ve since i cant do this publicly (im not out about my intersexuality)— and i wanted to talk to you abt that post you made.

your post i think has very good um bones, but i take issue with you seemingly outright grouping intersex activism with trans activism in a way that sort of takes away our agency in the issue? it sounded less like “under the fight for bodily autonomy we’re all comrades” and more like “intersexuals are essentially just transgenders and therefore intersex activism is redundant” . im intersex and transgender (sort of, im sure you understand how it all gets complicated) and ive personally always seen them as… different in totality.

intersex activism is, if anything, “filed under” disability advocacy to me. and i understand this varies from intersex to intersex, but like. most cis intersex people aren’t facing transphobia (exceptions excepted etc). they’re facing intersexism. the fight is, again, similar, b/c it’s all about bodily autonomy. when im fighting for transgender rights and intersex rights, im doing it as a fight for bodily autonomy.

i see where you were coming from, and i mean that genuinely, i just think calling intersex activism that doesnt idk, share the stage (??) with transgender activism “fake as fuck and garbage” seems… a little intersexist. of course it’s a separate issue with separate literature and theory and history, not every intersex is transgender and not every transgender is intersex. it strikes me as saying that any activism that like, centers mentally disabled individuals rather than all disabled individuals is redundant, you know?

thank you for reading 💙

to be honest im not gonna respond to most of this bc i think youre projecting some things onto me i did not say, but i would like to posit that considering intersexism disability advocacy first and foremost is really intriguing to me. why do you think intersexism is better classified as such? what societal forces may exist that would lead somebody to conceptualize a difference in Sex to be akin to disability? im aware that intersex conditions can lead to a variety of health problems mind you but is *that* the Main Problem of intersexism...? or is it the various ways the medical community abuses intersex children (and adults but less so) to make them Conform to a binary sex?

anyways. i didnt say that lol. i said intersex activism that treats intersexism as a wholly unrelated subject to transphobia and transmisogyny is useless. i think trans intersex people should be leading all conversations on intersexism, frankly! and ideally more transfeminine/TMA intersex people!

idk. i think youre kind of liberal, tbh, if you think transphobia and intersexism are about "bodily autonomy" at their core and not the abolition of sex assignment. but whatevs. ofc intersex followers and mutuals im happy to hear ur input but im much less inclined to listen to a random anon sorry. but youre very mistaken if you think im Remotely saying intersex people should have no voice lmao cmon

[qoldenskies]

shower me with lore

cutely takes excuse to talk about wwww!sunset duo as requested ,,,,

its been really fun to work out mikey's personality because one of the most important things to me was to make it really obvious that raph was not only a role model for him but also his ONLY role model, but mikey's relationship with him is also,,, tumultuous, which is not a recent development (although it DOES get worse once everything starts out). raph's first and only priority is mikey's well-being, and most of the decisions he makes are ones he believes he HAS to make to keep him safe, even if he doesn't like it. he thinks he doesn't have a choice, which is something mikey directly goes against.

like generally in the story mikey is the EMBODIMENT of choice. he is the physical manifestation of it. he provides donnie with the opportunity to choose which side he's on, parallels leo who acts only out of fear due to being harmed and restricted, and very ironically the WORST decision that raph makes in the story, which i cant talk about here lol, is one he makes when mikey is literally locked in a cage. mikey's existence changes everything around him, which is why it's important he makes so many decisions independently from raph, and why he COMPLETELY fucks up donnie and leo's relationship with each other and their father lmfao oopsie. mikey is the wind and raph is as solid as stone, endlessly stubborn in his position. he only sees one way through, while mikey ALWAYS thinks there's another way. there's a way out. they can do this better. there's no such thing as a "necessary sacrifice", and he is INTENSE about proving it. its his already existing optimism taken to an extreme, because he DID get that fire and stubbornness from raph, even if his perspective is much different.

usually this is what they butt heads over. raph doesn't think of himself as a pessimist at all, just a realist. but REALISTICALLY he's a pessimist, and a lot of that comes from the fact that he's anxious and he's had to bare that weight all on his own. mikey wants to spread his wings and raph wants to keep him on the ground (while, in comparison, donnie is trying to swim and leo is desperate to make both of them sink lmfao). having less brothers to take care of did NOT fix his problems, they made it worse actually-- in canon leo is actually a pretty important person in his life that evens him out, and donnie is a provider, and raph doesn't have that here, so he has to do those jobs too. splinter's more involved in their lives, but it's still not as much as he should be. really raph took over and once he hit a certain point splinter was like "okay cool", raph controls mikey's life very authoritatively usually because he's hyper-aware of the potential danger of their lifestyle-- and like, i really do not blame him for that. raph is in the wrong, but that doesn't automatically make mikey in the right, and they are in a position where he is right to worry about this.

the culmination of mikey and raph's dynamic is a "growing to realize your parent is human too" kind of arc. raph would probably need to get this kind of arc with splinter, mikey doesn't really have ANY baggage with his dad because raph did everything his dad didn't, and even though he doesn't always like him, he still does see him as helpful and usually infallible. splinter's always the peacekeeper when things get intense, if april's not around (and even then she is USUALLY more team raph than she is team mikey, she will be a bit of a snitch unfortunately,,, she's probably closer to mikey though, they're pretty good friends here. maybe i'll parallel their dynamic with leo and casey's? that'd be silly EDIT: I GOT THE PERFECT IDEA OF HOW IM GOING TO DO THIS BUT I CANT TALK ABOUT IT HERE FUCKKKK)

[theandersenjournals]

I love you vinnnnneeee....... vinnnyyyyy of everymanhybrid youre awesome.

vinnie fucking awesome. i like him alot. im obsessed with characters trapping themselves in their own tragedy, until it gets pried from their own hands. okay so the thing about vinny is that he's the most outgoing of the three in a more traditioal sense, as in it's him who runs the channel, the main face, hes our protagonist, really, not the MAIN character but the guy we wanna see, and the other two acknolwedge this in the fitness arc like earrlly on. he's a character that deteriorates, he starts strong, the leader, "jeff we have to keep filming or this prankster wins", hes positive and bright and comes up with their ideas

and then "jokes over" hits and we are sent spiralling into the unknown. jeff i love you. the where-is-jessa arc also introduces damsel/steph, i love you , jeff i love you guy who responds poorly to tragedy. but anyways vinnie is like, oh damn, okay, well this fucking blows. and he keeps filming. because thats what vinny does.

cue the long running middle arcs of the series, alex miseries, HABIT, onwards, outside help, you know the drill. and we finally start seeing the slow, cheese-grating has started making a dent on good ol vinn. now, listen, hes a guy who makes a decision and fucking trucks on that path no matter what, so despite it all, despite the hesitation, the misery, he keeps going!!

this is his cycle. he is the voyeur. he will watch. he will drown in the misery of his fate. and its him that dooms them. That's how it's always been! through every iteration! Patrick confirms this in tower on the lake, through Dr. James Corenthal, vinny suffered this fate, The Voyeur will always suffer this fate.

Vinny keeps going. he puts up cameras. he keeps filming. he pressures others into his train-car-off-the-bridge and hes suffocating but he'll see it through. and he's burning out. HABIT ensures this, through the entrapment era, his growing strength being Vinny's doom, until he's less and less of himself, more and more of a pawn, easier to manipulate, easier to hurt. And then. [Three's company.] Vinny drugs, complies. they kill shaun. and Vinny wakes up. The straw, really, not Shaun himself, but the circumstance- Vinnie realizes hes been complicit for far too long.

Vinny: I can`t get used to killing innocent people for no reason. HABIT: Well that's the only way were gonna win! [chuckling under breath] Vinny: Then I don't want to win. HABIT: What? Vinny: I don't want another person to die because of me so I can live. I rather die myself.

good, strong vinny starts to give up. and this begins the worst part. [blue room]. the psychological torture. Vinny is locked in Jeff's room. the gun. you know how it goes guys. and then [christmas]

Vince: Not good. And it's not even because, y'know, I feel bad or I'm scared. I'm not good because I don't feel anything. It's just -- what am I doing? Why am I doing this?

why am i doing this?

Guys, why do we keep filming? they say it in every series. why are we still filming? micheal says we're spreading the virus. Stan says the same. They all say but we can't stop. and it's funny; because; when that camera goes off, alot of them are saved. So many people don't have to die; they just have to stop filming. But Vinn doesnt. He cant. why? why even at his lowest, why does he still edit? film?

Vince: Who knows how many people have died. I've been in control of myself this whole time. I've been in control. I'm still pushing forward. I don't think you're a monster. He's using you, but you're not a monster. I feel like I'm becoming a monster.

instead of stopping filming, he asks us, to stop Watching. and THAT is who vinny is. blame is SHIFTING. theres always a reason. this is HABITs fault, slendermans fault, it the audiences fault, because vinny is afraid of what it means when they arent. "I promise I'm a good person." "I'm starting to feel like a monster." (the finale's rage shifting between evan and vinny on whos worse, who did what.) HABIT knows this. sees this. gives him leeway. youre the guardian. youre good. and hes not. hes not because hes the voyuer, and this is a cycle he can't end, because vinny does Not KNOW when to stop.

evan goes on, this is the FINALE, the beautiful last moment, so we see everythign again. its all recontextualized; what Vinny did, how many he's fed to the Rake, to Slenderman, to HABIT. How long he's been pointing his camera at victims, this puts a whole new spin on everything. and we see it. we see how heavy Vinn's hand has been in his own downfall.

Evan: [chortles] I can forgive you...but I gotta kill you first, okay? At least, through all this shit... Evan: ...I'll kill at least one fucking monster before I go!

and this has to end, and Vinn does what he alwasy does, desperate to protect himself, desperate to protect his own mind and heart;

Vince: I'm the monster? Do you know what you did to me, for years—what you did to our friends? Your own child?

vinn runs from blame , because thats his only defense, and. Then. it breaks. It only breaks- at the end. they killed all their monsters. Sort of.

Vince: Fuck, Evan. Damn it. Vince: I don't know if we're monsters… or just a couple of unlucky bastards. [He closes his eyes.] Vince: I'm sorry…

and this is how it all ends. this is the end of our iteration. vin, side by side with his best friend, blinks away tears, covered in his own blood and the blood of the person he can never leave, and this is the end. and he accepts it. we. we did this.

Just a couple of unlucky bastards. victims of monsters and cycles we could never even begin to understand.

vinny puts the camera down. his happy ending hinged on it. its very human, isnt it?

does ANYONE THINK ABOUT THAT FUCKING CAMERAAAAAA

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I have such an important interview tomorrow and instead of trying to prepare, I'm obsessing over She Kills Monsters. Like a responsible person.

[thesorrowoflizards]

↳ You never know when the good you do may come back around.

[ilynpilled]

jaime turning women down constantly more bc he is very monogamous and in love with someone else right now for the first time and is also kinda scared of actually having sex with someone other than cersei is sm better to me than “i respect the kg vows of chastity so intensely rn actually because i changed into a good and serious person” or whatever lol

[bacchuschucklefuck]

okay unironically I love so much that porter is like this world SUCKS its BAD here and it HURTS you why do you care abt it!!! and literally every single bad kid is like ngl we just hate ur ass it does not matter what ur philosophy is

[blushedfemmes]

… :/

[merry-fagoland]

traveler as a "Witness"

[gale-dekarios]

im not saying all of my posts are bangers, but its hard not to notice that posts i make about other companions easily break 100 notes no sweat, with the upper limit breaching 1k, to outliers of well over 4k, but whenever it's about wyll, it's crickets. i dunno, youre allowed to interact with anything you want to, and this isnt a call to reblog from me, specifically, this is the same for a lot of wyll orientated posts ive seen, but its just odd. and by odd i mean racist.