#believe them when they talk about their experiences

[grvait]

old art again!! this time a rough animation of sawyer and yarnaby 😎 (looks better if u click to view 😭)

im working on a short ppt animation rn. im thinking i should post it to my youtube channel, though im not sure if people here would see it. i think i can link videos on here?? idk

okay I'm gonna talk abt more chapter 4 stuff.. this time about prototype's previous identity.. ch4 spoilers and also a theory below..

hiding the solo yarnaby under here LOL

people theorized 1006 was elliot, which was recently disproven in the chapter 4 tape where poppy refers to elliot as her dad and wishes he were there. in the same tape she addresses prototype as a completely different person. also recall that elliot died in the 90s, meanwhile prototype met theo in 1989. so yeah, they aren't the same person

I've also seen people say rich is prototype, which cannot be true either. in a ch4 tape he speaks to one of the boys who eventually got turned into doey. the kid mentions his coworkers joking about him going missing. before the bbi, it would not make sense for this to be a common rumor at the company, which means this tape had to happen after harley was hired in 1990; at a time when the company would have a reason to silence people

prototype existed in 1989 at the minimum, but considering he says "it's always been about you and me" to poppy, he's likely the prototype of HER. she's elliots daughter, she died in the 60s, meaning prototype was probably created around that time as well.

this means that rich can't be the prototype because he was human long after prototype was made

if you want my take on who prototype truly is, i'd say his identity doesn't necessarily matter. i don't mean to say his origins aren't important, just that his name and specific role in the past probably doesn't mean anything in the long run. i've never believed he was elliot or rich, and maybe in the future i'll be proven wrong but for now i'll tell you the theory i've had since june of last year

elliot's daughter dies in the 60s. he divorced his wife in 1930, so his daughter is probably in her 30s when she dies. she gets sick or injured, maybe she's actively dying or already dead by the time elliot begins his research. he looks for ways to bring her back, but it doesn't work on the rats (as he mentioned a note in the 2nd chapter)

so what does he do? he tries it on something bigger as he said he would: a human. of course he's not going to try this experimental method on his own daughter, even if she's already dead, so he finds someone else to use it on. we know that elliot wasn't evil or anything, so it's unlikely he killed anybody to use for the experiment. considering the orphanage isn't open yet (it opened in the 70s, not the 60s), prototype probably wasn't an orphan child either. if i run with my simple version of the theory, elliot may have dug up a body in a graveyard and used that. maybe a fresh one, who knows. he tried it, it worked, then he revived his daughter with the same method.

this is likely what harley wanted to know about in the chapter 3 tape (the "i learn something new about you every day" one), and also what prototype is asking harley to figure out in the ch4 tape they're both in. in that case, sawyer never actually figured out how to revive people with the poppy substance. sure, he can transfer people into the toys, but he can't bring anybody back to life

more reason to believe prototype and poppy are of the same "batch" is because it seems they are the only two who don't need food. it's outright stated about him in the ch1 trailer, and insinuated with her saying the "toys will starve otherwise" when she's talking about how nasty them eating humans is. she refers to them, not herself. her and prototype are probably the only 2 who were ever brought back from the dead, which circles back around to his monologue and gives meaning to the "it's always been about you and me, poppy. what we are". when i heard him say that i felt like my theory was lowk confirmed 😭😭

no guarantee this is right, but it's been my guess for a long time

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC x DP Fanfic: Family bonding.

The Waynes, for all of their proclamation of being some of the best detectives in the world, missed the signs that one of their own was dating. Usually, that wouldn't have been so shocking, except that the person who dating made a point to tell the group he was dating.

He also somehow always stayed friends with his exes. Which was a superpower of its own, if they are honest, because not a single one of them was bitter about the relationship ending with Dick.

Another thing unusual about Dick having a lover was that he never brought them around or was seen in public with them. If anything, it felt like Dick was trying to keep the relationship a secret.

Which went against everything he cared about when dating someone.

That's why Bruce fully believed that the secret was being enforced by his partner. So it was up to the Waynes to find out who this mysterious lover was and evaluate if they were good enough for Dick.

So on a Friday night, when Dick was allegedly tutoring underprivileged kids but was actually meeting up with his lover, the Waynes piled into a shabby-looking minivan and followed.

It was cramped. It was dented, and it had tinted windows. Most importantly, the minivan belonged to John Constantine, who hadn't used it in over twenty years after learning to portal from one place to another.

Dick would never realize it was them.

"I think this is a terrible idea," Jason grunts from the back seat. He crosses his arms, refusing to pick up the binoculars Tim had passed around earlier. "Dick is a fully grown man. He knows how to properly talk to his partner about what he wants in a relationship."

"Shut up, virgin," Damian hisses from the passenger seat. He won the right to sit there after breaking Steph's skin with his teeth. Bruce had allowed them to brawl for a few minutes until Damian emerged victorious. He also let her use his phone to schedule a rabies shot, keeping eye contact with Damian in the rearview mirror. "Just because you never had a girlfriend-"

"-or a boyfriend. You fail to seducing both." Cass cut in from around her binoculars. She fist-bumped Tim as Jason threw her an offended look.

"Thank you, Cassandra. Ultimately, you have no experience and thus can not comment on what to do in relationships." Damian concluded.

"Neither do you!"

"Yes, but I am a child." Damian waves his hand in Jason's general direction. "It's expected of me to not have any romantic experience. You, on the other hand, are a loser."

"Unless you are Asexual or Aromantic," Bruce pipes in, leaning a little against the steering wheel, attempting to get a better view of the apartment building that Dick had walked into. He wasn't going up to any of the actual units; he remained in the lobby. "Then you are the are not a loser. But rather the closest thing to godhood."

"B, we know gods."

"That's why I said closest."

Thankfully, the lobby had huge windows. Dick was speaking to the receptionist, leaning on the counter with a little smile, and the man was grinning back.

However, Dick hasn't touched his hair even once. This was not the secret lover. This was a fool falling for Dick's charms, probably someone involved with a crime.

Ugh, so dull.

Jason crossed his arms stubbornly "I can get a date. I'm just busy."

"Doing what? Reading romance novels?" Steph laughs. Jason opens his mouth to yell at her, but the receptionist hands Dick a golden key that the eldest Wayne pockets. He strides out of the apartment complex, hands in his pocket and whistling joyfully.

The Wayns put away their binoculars, and Bruce carefully peels out of their parking spot. They keep a nice distance away from Dick as he scrolls around the stores, stopping every once in a while to admire a display before he sits on a bench, hand still inside the pocket with the key.

A person wearing a trench coat and thick sunglasses approaches the bench, sitting on the far end of it and not looking in Dick's direction. The van collectively gasps.

Despite the disguise, they can tell just who it is.

"Tatior," Jason hisses between clenched teeth as Duke slides a sealed brown package across the bench towards Dick. In return, the eldest places the key on the bench, back top, and strives away from the bench. Duke waits a few minutes before he stands, walking in the opposite direction of Dick, hand sliding out to grab the key nearly undetectable.

"Why does Duke need an apartment key? And one that was snuck to him," Tim asks, watching the two siblings walk away from each other as though they were strangers. "What's he up to?"

" We only have time for one family mystery today," Bruce answers, turning the wheel to the left and continuing to follow Dick. "I have dinner plans with Selina later."

Duke pulls out a red wig and slides off his coat. Underneath is a punk rock outfit, complete with spikes, the coat he throws into the trash and clicks his boots. Four-inch heels pop out from his shoes, and Duke struts out of sight.

Tim leans against the windows, face and palms against the glass, eyes wide. "Wait. Wait. I have so many questions. B, turn around!"

"Dinner plans, Tim!"

"But B!"

Damian points. "Look! Richard is twirling his hair! The harlot draws near."

Steph laughs, patting Tim's back, who is straining hard to open the door. Thankfully, Bruce was quick enough to press the child lock. "I love the way you talk, Dames. It's like a period piece villain escaped the TV."

"Thank you, Brown. I enjoy your existence as well." Damian smiles, pressing the binoculars against his face. "Oh."

Bruce's grip on the wheel tightens. He had chosen to stay really far behind Dick once the man had walked into a narrow street, making it harder to blend into the traffic. "What is Damian?"

"You will not like it, Father," Damian says lowly. Behind him, Steph and Tim also reach for their spying gear. Jason and Cass were grimacing from the back seat, one taking pictures and the other working on getting the listening device's antenna out the crack of the window to aim at Dick.

Bruce's knuckles turn white as he steeled his resolve. "Go on. I can take it. What do you see?"

"It's Danny Fenton." Tim, Steph, and Damian all say at the same time. "The person he is dating in secret is Danny Fenton."

Bruce felt his heart stop. "The man who makes bread in the shape of hero logos?"

"Yeah. Otherwise known as "The Happy Baker," Steph says gravely. "The only Gothamite who is unreasonably happy without drugs or Joker venom."

"I once saw him making up songs while setting out a display of animal-shaped bread. He rhymed Gotham with awesome." Tim practically spits. "I should have known. All those animals were circus-themed. The elephants were incredibly tasty."

"You bought some!?"

"Excuse me for being hungry B!"

Damian slaps Bruce's arm aggressively. "Father! Father! Richard is getting on one knee."

"WHAT?!"

Jason pressed one hand over his headphones and attempted to listen closer before his eyes widened. "Wait! It's not a real marriage. Dick's investigating a possible trafficking ring, who been using Gotham baking supplies as a cover. He wants Danny to help him infiltrate the front by pretending to be baking husbands!"

"He just asked him to get married," Jason reported, much to the horror of the general van. Cass' camera starts clicking aggressively, either to capture the moment or have something to hang over Dick's head and force him to call off his marriage.

It's hard to tell with her perfectly impassive expression.

"Oh, thank the gods." Bruce breathes, only to have Steph ruin the moment.

"They're frenching right now."

"Oh, come on!"

"This is fun," Cass says over Bruce, swearing under his breath. "We should spy on each other as a group more often."

"Can we find out what Duke is up to next? The heels will haunt me until I know everything." Tim pipes up.

Damian, Tim, and Steph do not lower their binoculars even though they are close enough that they become a nuisance rather than helpful. He hasn't seen them so engaged in a family outing in a long time. "Yeah, we can spy on Duke next."

There is a moment of silence as Bruce considers the request before he merges lanes. In doing so, they drive by the kissing couple, too caught up in each other to notice the people staring at them through spying gear.

"You're the best adoptive dad ever!" Tim cheers as the rest of the kids let out whoops. Fenton's ears twitch, breaking the kiss with Dick to look right at them over their eldest shoulder.

Bruce slams a foot on the pedal the second Cass starts yelling, "Go go go! He saw us!". They peel away, screaming while Dick throws them a finger, and Fenton laughs silently.

The happy little freak.

[andhumanslovedstories]

Something I've been thinking about in regards to the difficulty of writing about my job in the healthcare profession is that there's very different conversations happening at the same time. The first is that this is a job that gives us a lot of power over vulnerable people that is easy to abuse and easier to be passive about. The second is that people will never not bitch about their jobs.

What if a customer service job was high-stakes? That's nursing. It's not the only part of nursing, but cmon, anyone who has worked a public-facing job knows how some people can be. Hospitals are full of people having the worst days of their lives while also being tired, hungry, lonely, and bored.

Plus, it's not just the general population you're dealing with. Hospitals have a disproportionate amount of very difficult people. To draw some examples from my own direct experience: the dementia patient had become too violent to stay at home (unfortunately common), infected chronic wound guy who is so racist that his facility will not take him back, confused patient who screams unceasingly 24 hours a day until she passes out, sexually inappropriate guy who needs two caregivers at all time, another racist patient but this time they're also sexist, banned from multiple shelters for assaulting the staff, etc. Or what might be the most common: person who is too sick to go home alone but no one they know will agree to take care of them. Like, have any of you cut off horrible relatives or abusive partners? People who were in whatever way unacceptable to be around? Would you like to take care of them? And you KNOW they're also not doing any of the stuff that would help them heal so it seems like they will never leave.

I think the gap between healthcare as a Duty versus as a Job contributes to hostile conversations. When you're complaining about your Job ("that moment when you let a call light ring for a while in the hopes someone else answers this time because that patient is annoying as hell"), it's frustrating to get a response that solely looks at the situation through the lens of a Duty ("all patients deserve the same level of care and shouldn’t be ignored.") And it's also frustrating to have these legitimate criticisms ignored or disputed because people are like "it's not that serious, calm down, let nurses vent." And it’s also frustrating to feel so intensely monitored in your free time because of your job. And it’s also frustrating to see people in their free time display qualities that seem like they would have big, negative impacts on their job.

Thinking on this topic, I keep coming back to this one memory. There was a time when I responded to a Code Blue (cardiac arrest, guy’s heart has fully stopped) and was the fifteenth or so person to arrive. The room's full of critical care nurses, I'm not the direct care nurse, the rest of the floor is quiet. So basically, I'm useless to the emergency situation. I ran into a coworker who also responded to the code. I hadn't seen her in a minute, so we caught up. She showed me the new stickers on her water bottle. I don’t remember the exact sticker, but I believe it was a nacho-based pun. It was a pleasant chat.

Meanwhile during this entire conversation, within eyesight of where we are because we’re waiting around to see if we’re needed, people are trying to bring a patient back from the dead. What was happening in that room is life-or-death--to the patient. For me, it was an interlude during a forgettable shift. I only remember that code because the discrepancy between what I was experiencing and what the patient was experiencing was so stark. I don't even remember if the patient survived or not.

None of the patient’s family was there. If they had been, we would have removed ourselves further or not talked so casually. Probably. But if the spouse was there, it would be so insanely insensitive if we tried to include the patient's spouse in our chat about fun stickers. If me and that nurse had been casually in a different hallway chatting, it would be very abrupt for the patient's spouse to walk into our conversation and explain how the patient's death would be so hard on the kids. One of these examples is way more sympathetic and understandable than the other. And I want that spouse to feel comfortable coming up to me and discussing that! That’s part of my job! But also, you can get why that would be a distressing interruption to a moment of downtime.

In both cases, the people in the conversation couldn't be further apart in tone and investment. Neither of us are being bad people. We just should not be talking to each other. And the nature of the Internet and public posting is sometimes talking about my job feels like it's me, my coworker, the spouse, and the revived but severely affected patient in single group chat.

[hischierjustscored]

accidentally yours.・゜・quinn hughes

summary: you barely remembered putting quinn as your emergency contact until he showed up like the universe's idea of a bad joke

a/n: this is my contribution for the winter fic exchange 2k25 by @wyattjohnston for @hanaaishi 🧡 i still owe you forever for being patient and bearing with me on this!! seriously i mean it!! thank you both for making me a part of another amazing exchange which was my first one ever but i'm so happy that i was!! it was such an experience for me diving into all this and hope i was able to do some justice on my part 🧡 i got too carried away smoothing the final edges, hence the delay again 🥺 i also changed the idea we talked about a little but i hope it's all good in the end 🧡

warnings: mentions of injuries (light concussion, ankle sprain), hospital, parents pressure, overthinking, scratchin on the surface???, and i trusted myself to do a reader insert so bear with me once more

word count: 5.5k

You remember when you were 8 and took your brother’s bike to try out his self-made wood ramps in the garden, only to fall 6ft from the side and drop straight onto your left hip. That day you found out that grass wasn’t nearly as cushy as it looked but it was your mother’s “told you so” you never forget, lingering in your ears from where you sat in the backseat on the way to the hospital.

You also remember your best friend Lia leaving you in charge of booking an Airbnb for your first trip to Austria together, and you were proud of that cozy little place you found nestled in a mountain valley. But the "cozy" and "European" charms you both imagined left you searching desperately for a hotel in the middle of the holiday season instead, and Lia didn't have to say the words. You could hear the "I told you so" for really trusting someone with the username wanderlustgirl98.

And you remember moving to Vancouver a year ago after your studies, taking up your former professor's advice to follow one of its renowned urban development programs and put your "big-picture" skills to work. He didn’t have to try hard to convince you. You’d already been thinking about it for a long time until it felt like your chance to finally prove yourself. Perhaps even more to your parents. A naive part in you hoped you'd fit into their expectations for once. But if you really did, you'd reach out more than just on birthdays and festivities, maybe even give in to that other more vulnerable part in you and tell them how over your head you've been lately or that, deep down, they were probably right about all of this being a huge leap you still weren't ready for.

And you can only imagine…

Told you so.

It long replaced the loud ringing and the whole new level of woozines you felt an hour ago on the bus, as you watched the nurse adjust the brace on your right ankle, all black and chunky.

You sighed heavily for the 5th time in under 2 minutes, because what did you do to deserve all this?

Oh right, maybe being a chronic people pleaser, staying late at work to set other people's shit right. Fixing last-minute deadlines, cleaning up mistakes that weren’t yours, saying yes when you wanted to say no.

But you couldn't help it.

"It shouldn't take more than 3-6 weeks to heal completly, your lucky it's just a moderate strain. Nothing that can't be fixed."

She looked up at you over the rim of her glasses, still perched hideously, before she slowly swiveled back to her desk.

"Can I still work in that thing?", you tried testing out the waters, bending your feet just a little, then more until you sucked in a sharp breath when the pain hit.

"Honey, what do you think this is?", she drawled follwed by a low chuckle as if she couldn't quiet believe this being your first question.

“It’s meant for the healing, you have to keep it still completely and not put any weight on it. And that includes not working."

The last straw keeping you grounded right now is that this could have been much worse.

From the moment the bus driver hit the brakes like in that one Harry Potter scene, your new plateau sneakers giving out on you and your head bracing the inevitable fall on some window. Your initial hope bubble of no one noticing quickly busted as people came to your side, but you brushed them off mumbling that you were fine through the worst cringe of unwanted attention. Until you tried to balance yourself, only to realize you couldn't, and straightening up nearly made you sick.

You shifted, bracing your palms against the mattress to find a more comfortable position, minus flaring your ankle up again. You’d been in this bed for too long, it was driving you crazy.

"But how am I supposed to do that? Other than floating maybe..."

The mocking arch of her brows made the wrinkles on her forehood stand out more, but you couldn't care less, it was the pure frustration blurting out of you at this point you weren't even kidding about the last part. The last thing you needed on your mind was your boss' face to your sick call tomorrow morning. Not with the mayor visiting your office in 2 days, waiting to hear your thoughts on improving Vancouver's climate neutrality through sustainable architecture. And what you’ve worked tirelessly on, perfecting every detail from start to finish.

And you thought if all of this is some sort of reverse karma. Only for being hardworking. Is that a thing?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice the shuffling in the room until she came back with something that, if any shred of humor was left inside you, you would've laughed at. But instead, you just slumped back against the headrest, the wave of déjà vu taking you back to when you were 8 looking between the crutches in her hand.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

"I think you will be good with these", she offered, leaning them against your bed within reach, "maybe if you try hard enough you will actually float."

Her chumy tone you still couldn't quite feel yet, had your eyes roll back in an instant before closing them, grumbling to yourself, "Just great, really, really, great", but it was a mistake once you did as you fought off the urge to drift off completly.

A piece of mind for the first time in hours. Maybe for the first time in forever even.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

After the biggest "told you so" that was bound to happen eventually. 2 months from now or more, or perhaps between his work, your work, balancing on a life that went past deadlines and demands, between 2 people who have their own reasons to prove themselves to everything around them, you slipped out of each other’s reach.

But it’s not like there was ever an official you two.

It was just the version of the story you always liked best.

“Here you go, I was able to find one in the random stash we keep in our break room, but it should work though," a voice light and sweet snapped your attention back faster or not fast enough, you didn't know, blinking against the lights now.

For a second, you felt like you were back on the bus with the dizziness and nausea creeping in again.

But no. Just him. It was just the thought of Quinn.

Your weighted gaze shifted to the bubbly blonde next to you, then down to your forearm where she lightly nudged a charger against it, and you suddenly remembered how determined she was to get it for you when you realized your phone powered down.

You couldn’t even text Lia back in time, knowing you were already too late for the rare occassions of missing your daily Facetime calls, with her still being back home in Seattle. Not in a trillion years you expected to feel this way about her, but right now you're glad she is.

Because if she she'd see you like this, she'd already know the answers without you giving it to her, that you take on more than your chronic people pleasing heart could handle sometimes.

And he'd always know too. When to snap you out of it, when to just exist beside you with no words. He'd never have to ask.

"Oh yeah, thank you", you forced out in the most put-together tone you could pull off right now, hoping our smile was convincing enough to distract her from the way your clammy palms were rubbing against the mattress, or the rapid thumping of your heart that you’d see too on your chest if you dared to look down again.

"Just enough to call a Uber and you can take it back."

She gave you a simple half-shrug, taking your phone from your outstretched hand, "It's stuff patients leave behind soo..", and plugged it in for you. But before you could brush her answer off again, the low calling of your last name made you snap to a tall man in the doorway, and his two long strides toward you could either mean more bad or good news.

You held your breath as you listened to him in silence going over your completly normal labs and scans which only told you everyone was making a bigger deal out of this anyway. You were fine, biting the inside of your cheeks reluctantly when he added they'd be filling out a sick report too.

"-though we would like to monitor you here for a night just in case you develop more symptoms that can’t be ruled out from the hit, and given that you already experienced dizziness and nausea-"

No person or force on this earth could make you stay here for one minute longer.

You released your cheeks with a click of your tongue, cutting him off quickly, "Uhhh that's not necessary, I mean I feel way better now and you just said it too didn't you?", which finally made him look up from whatever, clearly taken aback, his suprise mirrowing your own for a different reason.

Plus, you knew your rights. They couldn't keep you hostage here, you were ready to remind him of their own policy.

"I'm glad you do, we just want to make sure that-"

But you barely registered his next words, lost beneath the familiar sound of your phone finally wrapping up in your hands, and you were as happy as a little kid seconds away from unwrapping the biggest gift under the Christmas as tree, just, it didn't ask you to press your thumb down to unlock it as it normally would but...

"Damn it."

The one time your phone decides to ask for your SIM card code, and you’re completely blank.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

Yes, you really believed now, you did everything wrong tonight and this was the real karma of it all.

Your thumbs brushed the screen, trying to remember 4 digits like your life depended on it with the only 3 attempts you had.

The day you bought it you scribbled it down, along with the backup code (of course), and put it on your fridge because your memory rivaled that of a goldfish sometimes.

Was it 5678 or 5679?, and you heart dropped as deep as the Marianna Trench when it said only 1 attempt left.

"...and with how things are right now, we wouldn't encourage you to leave on your own. Do you have someone you can call right now to pick you up? Someone safe?"

Was he still talking to you?

"Huh? What?", the phone nearly slid from your grip, your palms starting to clam up again, and he lowered his clipboard studying you with an expression you weren't sure you had the energy to fully read, but it felt too damn close to pity.

"Or anyone we could call...?"

Quinn knew now that he could only trust Jack when it comes to discussing goodreads.com reader's favorites, ideas for lake house interior, and shooting pucks.

Not with anything close to dating. Or helping him out with that.

He was doing just fine. Thank you very much, but he knew Jack. Too much for his own good sometimes.

"Why do you act like you don't want it when you actually do. You need this. Get out of your head.

Sitting in this Italian restaurant that was a little too crowded for it being a secret "gem" as Jack said suggesting it to him, and he didn't even live here, listening to his date "soul-searching" trip to Bali was far from want and need.

He checked her Instagram highlights before, clicking on her profile Jack DM'd him. A friend of a friend. If overpriced veggie bowls and infinity pool thirst traps were anything soul-searching she's deluding both of them, and so was his thinking that maybe he should give this a shot. Getting out his head like Jack said with the season already hitting him with flashbacks he wanted to forget fot the sake of his sanity, and keeping away from anything that kept him running on autopilot.

"It just put everything into perspective", she said, her voice pulling him back just enough to realize he had no idea what she was talking about.

And he knew the moment he looked up from stirring the ice in his water with his straw for the past 5 minutes, there wouldn't be damn thing he'd remember about her either. She was beautiful, that much was obvious. The kind she knew and had probably been told her whole life, she didn't have to try too hard.

He preffered not trying at all. It was his favorite.

Probably ever since you took his drink at the coffee shop one day, the place too crowded for names to be called, just cups sliding across the counter and you didn't even look down at his name scribbled on the side in Sharpie when you slipped past him on the way out, not bothered to notice him eiter. The moment he should've said something, tap your shoulder, say anything when he just kept watching you move outside, tilting your head at street signs like they weren’t second nature yet, checking your phone every few seconds like you had somewhere important to be. Grabbing the wrong coffee without a second glance wasn’t his only hunch that you weren’t from here. Then, the sip. Too strong. Wholebean. Definitely not yours.

You turned back, ready to go back inside, but he already had yours in his hands on his way out to you when they started calling out names again, and no one responded to except for him.

A moment, A pause, your cold fingers brushing against his warm ones, or when you laughed at your mistake all crinkly around your eyes, perharps for the first time in a while that day, that should have been it, but wasn't, because between all of it you just became a part of his routine.

“…And then, on the third day, we did this sunrise meditation hike just me and a few people from the retreat, barefoot, totally disconnected, away from everything."

She kept going, oblivious to the way his focus had disconnected, his mind already elsewhere, lost in the memory of the last time he wanted to get away from everything, and the cushion underneath him slid akwardly when he shifted in his seat.

I wasn't about overpriced veggie bowls or infinity pools. But his favorite place in Michigan. Always.

And he wanted to take you there.

It had been a vague idea, one that had come up in the quiet moments in betweeen road trips and late-night talks at his place that were too deep and glances that lingered too long to mean anything less than what he had already convinced himself was true about you. The same feeling hit him when you gave him that slight curve of your lips, the one that always told him you had him figured out when when he told you about the days being slow and the nights nothing but still stars at the lake house.

"Hmm, that's not true stars are moving constantly, we just don't see it."

He laughed, quiet but warm,"Can you at least pretend to fall for it?" just to get stuck in his throat.

"It never is with you."

"What?"

"Pretending."

It never was with you either.

But it never became anything more than vague. Because there was always something else. Texts left on read for too long, you and your own world to keep up with just as much as he did with travel schedules that blurred weeks into months, not leaving room for things he didn't know how to hold onto. Or someone who didn't know either.

A low buzz from behind, easy to miss if it hadn’t lingered just long enough to jolt him back before he knows. He shifted again, and even though this was only ever one-sided, a genuine "Really sorry, I will turn it off" left his lips as he gawkly reached for his jacket over the backrest.

He hadn’t meant to look, a habit more than anything. But then his thumb hesitated mid-air, double-taking the number.

Unknown. Vancouver area code. Probably nothing. Probably something.

But always a red flag, especially for someone in his industry.

"Thought you were turning it off?", she mused, tipping her wine glasss to her lips, watching him over the rim and he forced a quick exhale, "Yeah, I-", but he didn't have a real answer with the buzzing still alive in his hand.

And he should've turned it off, ignore it, and sit through the night rest of the night pretending like he hadn't already made up his mind about this whole thing.

You need this.

But Jack was wrong.

He wasn't even sure what "this" was even supposed to be. Whatever, it never felt right since the start.

His phone buzzed again with the same caller, but now he thought about it being a perfect timing.

"I gotta take this...", he mumbled, barely shooting her a glance, and he swiped right before his mind could really caught up with it.

"Hello?"

A breath, a pause, nothing good he thinks already but he used it to press his index finger to his ear to drown out the noise, shifing again.

"Uhm, yeah, hello it's Vancouver General Hospital am I speaking to Quinn H?"

Well this was new.

"Depends, who is this?", ignoring the "H" making it sound like a witness protection program name. Not that he planned on correcting them. Or rather, a nurse as she introduced herself, surprisingly professional, enough to raise his interest and, slowly, his concerns too.

"Sir, we have your sister here, she was brought in with a mild concussion and a sprained ankle some hours ago. But don't worry, she is totally fine, she just needs someone to pick her up which is why we're calling."

His brows snapped together, head jerking back to the slightest bit like his brain needed an extra second to process.

"My what? Excuse me?"

Last time he checked it was Jack and Luke. Their parents would never screw them over like that, no way the would forget an entire human being for twenty-something years. Right? Not even back when they first sat him down to tell him he’d be a big brother, and his two-year-old self, without hesitation, decided he wanted a sister. But by the time Luke came, he was bound to live with brothers. He wouldn't change that for the world now.

So when the nurse repeated the words that his sister listed him as her emergency contact Quinn could only stare blankly ahead, "Yeah, I still think you've got the wrong number..."

She is wasting her time on a call when this girl was really waiting to be picked up, and he was just about to put it in terms she’d finally grasp, until-

You.

The noise around him, muffled laughter and the hum of conversation, the restless tapping of manicured nails against the table cloth across him, faded into nothing. And if with his thoughts already going from 0 to 100, this is his breaking point.

Your name.

He cleared his throat, but his voice came out strained, throat too dry, "Come again?"

Of all the names, hitting his ears after all these months but thought more of than he'd ever admit. The name he'd seen on his screen too many times, resisting the urge to check, to ask, to do something.

Everything dropped, turned over, a slow ache pressing against his ribs, too overwhelming and far too familiar.

But his body moved before his mind could catch up, momentum taking over. Someone said his name. Maybe, he couldn't care less. Something about a drink next, about sitting back down, but he ignored it again.

Because you were still ringing in his head, louder than it had in months.

And he wasn’t about to ignore it now.

"He said he's already on his way, shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes"

It made your brows furrow in confusion, "He's in the area?", but you said it more to yourself than to her, not that she heard it either in the crowded waiting room you were sitting in now, your ankle on a cushioned chair they'd given you.

Turns out you had listed an emergency contact the last time you were here, one you didn’t even remember leaving behind. Apparently, hospital policy included holding onto records long enough to make you wait nearly an hour, because the name they had on file was your brother. And, of course, he was on a business trip in Abbotsford, 1 hour away. The only reasonable choice to put down when they’d asked back then. Then again, you barely remembered.

Except for the fact that it was your first public unveiling of a project you led. You had invited your parents, that small, hopeful part of you giving in, calling them, telling them you’d be happy if they came. You were almost surprised by their promising tone, as if, finally, they’d understand this wasn’t just about concepts and sketches but about your dream.

But they didn’t come, texting out of everything, with an excuse that felt too made up. And hours ago, when your stomach had already sunk from scanning the crowd for them every time a new group arrived, it sank further. This time with the mix of one bad shrimp and something stronger you’d used to numb the disappointment.

How could you forget when you really really wanted to.

"Is you brother like...famous or something, because your records were pretty mysterious."

You looked up to the same bubbly blonde nurse, still standing in front of you with her lips pressed together,

"I think we're close enough he'd care to tell me or I would've found out sooner or later, but no, sorry to dissapoint you or anything", you corrected, hoping that was enough while you were already done processing the absurdity of it all. You slumped against the rigid backrest, sighinh as the exhaustion crept in again, but rest was the last thing anyone was willing to grant you right now.

“Your record,” she rambled on, not getting the memo, "it was… kinda mysterious.”

One eye popped open, then another when you saw her crossing her arms now. This conversation slowly glided out of your hands, you just leaned forward, jerking your head to the side, silently urging her to make sense of whatever this was.

"Your record just said Quinn H. and nothing more. I had to call him Mr. H. the whole time, but I figured he prefers this kind of privacy and that's what you want for him too. He didn't tell me his last name though, so like I said, all mysterious."

Your fingers now hoved near the cushioned stool, reaching for your calf to lift it off with more force than you should've and the sting was instant. But it was nothing compared to the irritation climbing its way up your throat where your heart already pounded in it.

Because not your brother was about to walk through that door. The person who should've been here.

No.

It will be Quinn Hughes.

And suddenly you were mid-fall again, right there on the bus, every last bit of control slipping past your grip. Nothing you could do.

Because drunk you put him down as your emergency contact that time. The one you barely remember.

"Wait, no", a breath left you, unsteady, "Call him again and tell him it's a big fucking mistake", your hands twitched in flight mode as you darted between her and the sliding doors open-mouthed, cause you remembered her saying he was only 10 minutes away. 5 even, if you're unlucky.

The same Quinn you stopped talking too, who if you looked into his eyes again, the same on that always made you wonder, if they could get any darker, any greener, would he notice?

That you mever meant for things to be this way? That it wasn't him, not really but your own mind, the way this new life kept pulling at you, and how you wanted to reach out when things calmed down. When you had space. When you could be the version of yourself that he deserved.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Maybe he thought you didn't care. It was only fair, but it didn't loosen the knot in your chest, nor how you blinked away the sting in your eyes that you told yourself was from the stuffy air with too many people breathing in here.

Because you did. You always did.

"Hey sis."

And in that instant, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, how else could you explain the way your lungs refused to function, as if they’d forgotten how, when you snapped your head to where he stood now inches away. How long?

His navy blue shirt was barely visible under his coat, his hair grown out just enough for the ends to curl, for it to peek out from the beanie he held in his hand, looking too good even with his hair tousled still like he'd always did asking you if he looks okay, what you could see him doing in whatever thing you interruped him in before he got here,

It pressed in too heavy, you had to cut through it.

"Why are you here?"

"What happ-"

You barely felt the ache in your ankle over the blood rushing in your ears when you shifted your weight standing now, his gaze dropping to the crutches you stood up without, your brace, the subtle wince you thought you hid. And it was fucking with your heart that he wasn't just looking at you, but like he was piecing something back together.

He parted his lips, but his eyes flicked past yours first, toward the nurse behind you, when his fingers around his beanie, "You were brought in here", he hesistated, "Needed someone to pick you up."

That was the objective, something everyone would've done perhaps if they received such call, being a good or person, or the simple fact that he was your emergency contact.

You needed the subjective.

You huffed, shaking your head, "This is not what I meant. You could have said no."

"I didn't."

"You should have."

The words sounded sharper on your tongue than you wanted them to be, and you didn't know what hurt more, the way his expression barely shifted like he'd expected to be shut down again, because you were getting so good at it, or how your insides churned 360 degrees of how much you already regretted them.

"What do you want me to say? You're the one who put my name down I didn't even knew until now or let you bolt out of here with an concussion like they told me?"

Bolted. Floated. Whatever to get out of here finally.

"Well, neither was I, and I'm fine", you muttered fixing you gaze on the sterile floor instead, on anything but the way how he was fixing you, "but let's just drop it to the part where you go back to whatever you had going on before coming here I guess and me saying sorry for it."

The bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Only when the dull ache flared up in your good ankle did you realize you’d been standing without your crutches all this time. and before you even thought to reach for your crutches, he was already moving. Anticipating. The moment your balance gave out on you, he was already there, steady hands at your elbow and bicep, grounding you before gravity could do worse, and your pulse skipped how easy it was to sink into it.

His breath hitched, and so did yours, the warmth of his touch pooling through your fabric like you swallowed an ember, and his eyes, god his eyes, the darkest green, you don't even have to look up to be convinced about it again, all on you, as he murmured, barely a whisper.

"Don't be sorry, because it didn't mean anything."

Sitting in his car with the seat warmer already on like he remembered how easily cold you can get, watching as he pulled up your adress from his "saved", it fucked with your heart all over again.

You should have protested, insisting you were fine enough to make it out on your own, scoffing when the nurse told Quinn, not you, that you needed monitoring, just in case.

But exhaustion had already settled too deep in your bones, that you were almost thankful for the silence settling between you since he helped walking you out and insisted to drive you home at least.

Almost.

You would’ve been the biggest fool alive if you let this slip again, like you always did, like you always regretted.

"I am sorry though."

"And I told you not to be."

The darkness in his eyes gave way to the streetlights flickering through them as you turned to face him, "You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be sorry for, Hughes", you jested and Quinn huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking his head lightly. The soft glow from outside looked too good on him when you stopped at a right light, you swallowed hard, "What kind of brother would I be too?"

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, stop. I didn’t even mean to put you down as my contact."

"Keep it, I don't mind."

"You say that like you wouldn’t have blocked my number by now if you had the chance."

Quinn smirked, tilting his head against the headrest, his eyes flickering toward you. "Would’ve done it already if I wanted to."

Then, before either of you could think too much about it, his hand reached out, his pinky brushing against yours on the center console, like testing the waters, like answering more questions without words. It was enough.

He squeezed your hand once.

You squeezed back. An answer.

[startheskelaton]

Hello, it me again. If it okay, can I make up for random character in Skybound Transformers I talk about? I know Sparkplug is died but I’m like “Let give them something nice for once” because- MY GOD! Elita-one and Optimus relationship is sure hanging on a edge because the whole “You choose earth over us” stuff (Would it be fun if they decided to divorce. Maybe not in canon because I do not want that to be canon even if it be fun)

So this is Lucky. She’s the only and last sparkling on earth (Listen, I pretty sure Cyberton earth is not even stable enough, and even the Cyberton is stable, I don’t believe that bullsh*t as you see how f*cking weak the state of its like come on and if you’re confuse what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the whole sparkling hatched from ground? And sorry about the lack of body, I can’t draw body very well) Lucky was little accident baby after Sparkplug and Bumblebee died. She manage to survive 3 time from near death experience in the womb during when Starscream shoot Megatron, Cobra-La attack and IN MIDDLE OF COLD WINTER. Her carrier able to give birth safety, although she was born mute because of the damaged cause from Starscream shot but she’s alive so that count.

How you rate some of the bots reaction? Sure, Lucky isn’t Sparkplug but close enough for everyone to finally have something positive for once or you know… just make everyone grief even worse (RIP Sparkplug and Bumblebee, and sorry if you’re not fully comfortable of this)

Oh my fucking god…… ooouuughhhhh

[khorneschosen]

I knew that you're opening argument was far too generous. I don't think you realized what you are offering me because you don't actually know a lot about leftism and I know a great deal out of 10 years of patient study and direct experience. Like leftists don't give you a free hand of how to criticize it because they know that there's a lot of areas that you can be very critical of and they will not have a response to.

Like you see very many arguments about how efficient collectivism is anymore because we very single-handedly proved that leftism of any variety is not more efficient than the free market.

Like collectivism is a very big part of leftism. It's not individual choice in fact you'll find that that is a rarity amongst leftist and that's why my theory is right now the left is pretending to be for personal choices but they actually plan to get rid of those changes after the revolution. They don't even believe that the self or the individual is a unit of society conceptually. The class is the unit of society according to leftism. So if you as a worker and individual are getting shafted under leftism that's okay because your class is technically in a far better position collectively.

It's why when they discuss workers they don't mean individual workers they mean workers as a class.

I'm being very sincere about my point of discussion metaphysics and epistemology. Metaphysics means the philosophy of what is epistemology is how do we know. Most of the time I argue it's to try and bring it to this point because this is usually where the fundamental disagreement comes from.

If you don't understand what epistemology is then you really can't debate philosophy with me because you don't understand what your own epistemology is which is dialectic materialism.

Did you know that that system is why they're sure that they're right that system I described is something did they need to be true in order for every other theory to count that came after to be right.

Also wrong implies that there is an error of knowledge invalid implies there was a failure of logic.

I really want you to understand this but everyone in politics everyone in philosophy every philosophy out there wants people to be happy successful and prosperous in their own way. The point is whether they're capable of producing that.

Like I want you to understand that argument you're giving is very much what feudalist gave back in the day as a justification for their own belief system and social structure. Because if we were to judge political or philosophical systems by their intentions then everything would be valid but we don't judge them by intention we judge them by results because that is the actual thing that should be measured.

It's like trying to say Well I intended to show this with my hypothesis but my experiment doesn't show it. You wouldn't accept it as valid You understand? Because the intention is not the experiment it is not the scientific process it's not the philosophical process and it's not the moral process. It's just an intention.

Yet you remember what I was saying about leftist try to avoid arguments they know aren't very good none of them talk about metaphysics anymore or the very least they typically only do it when you've been in with them for a very long time most leftists have never heard of how dialectic materialism works It's what they call reading theory.

Which just means studying their own philosophy. Which I have done.

Oh no dude it is not a Soviet thing It's a full-on thing with leftism it didn't start with the Soviet Union it started with Karl Marx and Engels. It's why you see it with every branch of leftism and it's philosophical community.

Again leftist don't like talking about it very much because they don't want people understanding. This is the fundamental of their entire philosophy It's foundational They need it to be true in order for every other theory to be true and it's really bad.

And partially one of the reasons why they don't discuss it as much anymore is because most of leftism now has been defined by now and Mal's whole thing was revolutionary change through one method being sloganering which is to dumb down the information to basically one line. You notice this right A lot of leftist points are just slogans.

It's really not my guy if anything it's very simple in my opinion.

Also reject private property means private ownership of the means of production please understand your own philosophy.

Looking more like a checklist these days. I want off this ride. 😭

[fandoms-x-reader]

Replaced

Requested Anonymously

Oneshot

Summary: When R/N comes to the Devildom as the new human exchange student, everyone wants to get to know them, disregarding MC to do so. But things backfire when R/N and MC get together instead. Word Count: 2,269 Replaced!MC AU

You never thought about the possibility of another human exchange student coming to the Devildom. It was something that made sense after it happened. After all, Diavolo’s goal was always to have the Devildom integrated with the other two realms. And, it was hard to do that with only two students from the human world and the Celestial Realm attending RAD.

Still, you never imagined it happening so soon.

Everything was going great for you down in the Devildom. You had friends - genuine friends - who loved you and wanted to spend time with you. And more than that, you had the potential to find love.

You were happy.

And it was because of how happy you were with your friends that you would do anything you could to help them. And the biggest thing you could do to help, according to Diavolo, was to help the new exchange student settle into the Devildom.

You didn’t think anything of it at first. Everyone was excited to meet them, maybe a little too excited. But, it was a new human, so who could blame them? It’s not like humans came to the Devildom in groups or anything.

You knew that everyone was being a bit overbearing, asking the new exchange student as many questions as they could. They wanted to know everything about them.

It was strange for you to see how everyone acted around the new student. When you came to the Devildom, everyone acted cold to you. No one wanted anything to do with the new human. You had to fight to prove to them that you could belong there whereas they were welcoming the new student with welcome arms.

You tried to push your slight jealousy of that aside. Ultimately, it was your influence and good experiences with them that probably allowed them to be so open-minded with the new student.

And you had to admit, the new student was something special. They were kind and caring - and way more attractive than you expected them to be.

They were always kind to you and treated you with respect and you found yourself becoming fast friends with them. You believed they would be a welcome addition to your friend group.

It wasn’t until a month later that things started taking a turn for the worse. 

It started with small things.

The demon brothers would forget their plans with you because they had made plans with R/N. They stopped calling you the endearing nicknames they had bestowed upon you, referring to R/N in that way now. And when it came to outings, they all fought for R/N’s attention over yours.

Diavolo and Barbatos were no better, favoring R/N when it came to studies or events at RAD. And Simeon and Luke were expressive in their preference on who they would rather hang out with.

Even Solomon, a fellow human, was completely under R/N’s spell. You had asked Solomon multiple times to help you with your magic but he was somehow always too busy for you now.

It was frustrating to see people who you loved so much, and who had once claimed to love you, cast you aside like you were nothing - like you hadn’t been the one they were the closest to just a month before.

But the most frustrating part about it all was that you had no one to blame. R/N was still someone you considered your friend and even after they had earned the affections of everyone else, they never changed the way they acted toward you.

R/N was living in the House of Lamentation and because of that, the two of you had an opportunity to begin to grow close. 

You had spent a lot of time in their room and they had also spent time in yours as well. Something was comforting about their presence - a sense of home that you didn’t even know you needed until the two of you started talking.

As time continued the love that the others once held for you turned into disdain. You were left out of conversations, uninvited to outings, and overall ignored.

R/N would see the way they would treat you - your so-called friends - and they would always be upset about it.

They didn’t fully understand why everyone had begun treating you so poorly, and to be honest, you weren’t even entirely sure either.

You hadn’t done anything to deserve the swap in attitude towards you, yet they all did it so effortlessly. As if they had been planning to do it all along but were just waiting for the right moment.

R/N was your only source of comfort during this time. They were always there to lend a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. And, because of that, the two of you continued to grow closer to each other.

Their kindness never faltered towards you and the way they could always bring a smile to your face or relieve your pain with just one look or statement didn’t go unnoticed by you.

Before you knew it, you were catching feelings and just praying that they might feel the same way.

You planned to confess your feelings to R/N, but before you got the chance to, you got into a huge fight with the brothers.

They claimed that you were taking too much of R/N’s time. That you were being selfish by wanting to spend time with them when everyone else wanted to as well.

It wasn’t a good conversation to begin with, but by the end of it, you were all practically in a screaming match and it ended with you leaving the House of Lamentation.

But, you didn’t have the ability to just go back to the human world and you weren’t in the mood to ask anyone for help in doing that.

So, you continued to attend RAD, avoiding the brothers at all costs and subsequently also avoiding R/N. You hated living like this, but you weren’t sure what you could do to change things.

R/N hated seeing you like this - in pain. They had also developed feelings for you and they wanted to do everything they could to fix it for you.

They attempted to talk to everyone, to try and get them to see how they had been treating you. But, their message fell upon deaf ears.

R/N tried to get others to spend time with you, hoping some quality time would help the situation. And the brothers agreed to try and spend time with you - because it would make R/N happy.

Whenever one of them approached you to “apologize” or “ask to spend time with you” you would always reject the offers because you could see how forced it was.

They weren’t doing it because they wanted to. They were doing it to gain R/N’s favor and that hurt worse than them avoiding you all together.

When R/N realized their plan had completely backfired they approached you to apologize. They explained that they just wanted to help you because they hated seeing you upset. 

You were teetering on a very fine line when you asked why they cared about you. But it was a question that you needed answered. And when they answered you were relieved to hear that it was because they had feelings for you.

R/N was embarrassed to admit the secret they had been holding back this entire time but when you told them that you had feelings for them as well, it was as if everything clicked into place.

The two of you started spending a lot more time together. Whenever one of the others would ask to spend time with R/N, they would be rejected without a moment of thought.

They noticed how much time the two of you were spending together and it sent them into a wave of emotions. Anger. Jealousy. Confusion. There were almost too many emotions that they were feeling.

But the most prominent one they began to feel was loneliness.

Not only did they not have the human they had been fawning so hard over but they were slowly waking up and realizing they had lost you too.

It wasn’t something they meant to happen. It wasn’t even something they realized they were doing. They had just been so focused on getting R/N to like them that they couldn’t care less about anything else that wasn’t R/N.

There was no doubt as to why their treatment towards you pushed you and R/N both away from them. But, they were desperate to try and find a fix because they couldn’t handle how things were now.

You and R/N had decided not to say anything about the two of you dating yet. After all, the demons tended to overreact a lot of times.

But, their lack of knowledge on the topic didn’t stop your relationship from growing strong. The two of you were finally fully happy, always talking and laughing.

And it drove everyone else absolutely crazy that they weren’t invited to join in with the two of you. It drove them crazy that you didn’t need them.

When they were fed up with sitting on the sidelines, they decided to approach you first - their original human.

They apologized for the way they had behaved and explained everything they had been feeling lately. The loneliness and the regret of not having you in their life.

They were desperate to find a way to get you to come back to them. They were desperate for you to forgive them.

It was a lot to hear and take in. You didn’t like seeing them like this. You didn’t like seeing them so sad. But, still, a part of you couldn’t help but feel like they did it to themselves.

They were only about halfway through their spiel of professing their love and apologies to you when R/N approached you.

They stopped speaking when R/N smiled at you, asking if everything was alright. Their biggest fear was you being cornered by the others and them ripping into you with their words while you had no backup.

You gave them a nod, telling them that everything was alright before turning towards everyone else. They looked between you and R/N and they could tell something was different about the two of you.

There was a certain tension, a certain air, that surrounded the two of you and it was way louder than the words any of you had yet to speak.

You were the one who decided to talk first, figuring at the very least, you could give them an explanation.

“Thank you for your apologies, but things can’t just go back to the way they were,” you began, taking a breath. They immediately tried to argue so you continued, cutting them off before they even got the chance to by saying, “And I wouldn’t want them to.”

Those last words made all of them fall silent as they waited to hear the rest of what you had to say.

You glanced at R/N to silently ask if it was okay to reveal your secret and when you saw nothing but support in their expression, you decided to continue.

“R/N are dating and we’re happy. So, thank you for telling me how you feel, but I’m perfectly content with how things are right now,” you replied. 

“We both are,” R/N chimed in, wanting to make an additional point.

Your friends had put you through so much pain when they cast you aside. You shouldn’t feel guilty for being happy and for moving on.

But as you watched their faces fall with despair at the news, you couldn’t help but feel a little bad. You weren’t sure if there was anything they could do to fix things with you, or R/N for that matter. You weren’t even sure if you wanted things to be fixed.

But, right now, all you wanted was to grow in your relationship with R/N. Someone who wouldn’t turn their back on you and someone who made you feel loved no matter what.

“Come on,” R/N told you softly, gently coaxing you away from the scene and leaving everyone else to process the news on their own.

And as the two of you left, they all realized just how badly they had messed up. They didn’t know how they ended up here but they knew that they had thoroughly pushed you away and they weren’t sure if they could ever get you back.

Knowing for a fact that they had lost you hurt a lot worse than just watching you be happy without them. Because knowing for a fact meant that they knew that they would never be able to do anything they used to do with you again.

They wouldn’t be able to make any more of the memories they cherished so deeply. They wouldn’t be able to compliment you and admire the blush you would get whenever you received one. They wouldn’t be able to hold you in their arms whenever they felt like hugging you or feeling the warmth of your comforting embrace.

They lost all of that and more and it was all their own fault. And that last thought alone was enough to drive them all mad. Because they could have done something to prevent this, at the very least stop it from getting this far. 

But they didn’t and now you were gone.

[cosmiclily]

when she sees me

★ vi x f!reader

wc: 5.4k

cw: reader goes on a date with one (1) guy for exactly 27 minutes; pure tooth rooting fluff.

notes: this was @entraptasimp request but tumblr was being a bitch and i lost the ask 😭. this got my brain juices working, it started off with nothing to do with what you requested but i worked my way through it, i had so much fun writing it, hope you like it !!

I was born a fundamentally anxious person. I like things a certain way—I’ve never liked guessing games or the feeling of not knowing how things would unfold. That’s why I’ve never been a fan of dating apps, meet-cutes, or anything that required me to dive into the unknown. Even my reading choices reflected that. I always gravitated toward romances where the main characters were destined to be together, the kind where they had known each other forever and love was inevitable.

So when it came to my own life, I was completely lost. Imagine spending almost 21 years never having a boyfriend, a girlfriend, or anything remotely romantic. It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried—I’d had experiences, but they were all terrible. The kind of stuff you look back on and cringe so hard you want to erase the memory altogether.

"Can you believe I’ll be 21 soon, and I’ve never dated anyone?" I groaned, tossing a handful of popcorn into my mouth. Vi, my best friend, was sprawled next to me on my bed, equally engrossed in our snacks but pretending to care about whatever show was playing in the background. "Even you had girlfriends. What is wrong with me?"

Vi turned to me with a dramatic gasp, her mouth still half-full of popcorn. "What do you mean, even me? I’m a greatcatch! Good looking, great muscles, and super smart. You can’t beat that."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, super humble too, I see."

She smirked, flexing her arm like she was some kind of bodybuilder. "Exactly. You’re just jealous."

I sighed, staring at the ceiling. "No, I’m just… I don’t know. It feels like I missed some crucial lesson everyone else got. Like, how do people just meet someone and start dating them? How does it happen so easily for everyone else?"

Vi was quiet for a moment before she nudged me with her foot. "It’s not easy for everyone. And maybe it’s not supposed to be easy for you. Maybe you’re just waiting for the right kind of difficult."

I frowned. “What does that even mean?”

Vi shrugged. “I don’t know, it just sounded poetic. But seriously, maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet. Or maybe you’re meant for a slow-burn romance—like the ones in those books you love so much.”

I groaned, rolling onto my side. “But I’m tired, Vi,” I whined. “I hate relying on fate, or destiny, or whatever. I need to do something!”

She stared at me for a moment, her eyes narrowing like she was deep in thought. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, and that was never a good sign.

“Okay, hmm.” She tapped her fingers against her chin. “I know you don’t like dating apps, and you hate talking to strangers, but unless you want to date me, or Mel, or—I don’t know—Jayce…”

I made a face so disgusted she burst out laughing.

“Right, so unless you want to date your friends,” she continued, still grinning, “you’re going to have to get to know someone new.”

I groaned dramatically, burying my face in my pillow. “But I don’t like meeting people.”

Vi let out an exaggerated sigh. “God, you’re insufferable.” She poked my shoulder until I looked at her again. “Again! Unless you’re planning to date your friends, you have to meet new people. So! My idea is… I choose your suitors based on what I think you’d like. You go on a date with them, and if you don’t like them, we move on to someone else. We keep going until we find you a partner.”

I stared at her. “You make it sound like a game show.”

She grinned. “Oh, it absolutely is a game show now.”

──────────────────────

“So, to start off—download every dating app you can find. We’re setting up your profile and swiping away!” Vi announced, a sinister grin on her face and a bag of chips perched on her lap. It was honestly kind of terrifying.

I hesitated, staring at her like she had just suggested I walk barefoot across hot coals. “Okay, I just don’t see how forcing me to do something I hate is the solution here.” Still, I begrudgingly opened the app store and started scrolling through the endless sea of dating apps.

“Exposure therapy, Y/N!” Vi declared, stuffing a handful of chips into her mouth. “Besides, I’ve known you my whole life. If I don’t make you do this, you’re going to end up single well into your sixties, whining in my ears about your wasted youth and how you never got the love story you deserved.” She pitched her voice higher, dramatically placing a hand on her chest. “‘Oh, Vi, why didn’t you force me to date when I had the chance?’”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Hey! I don’t sound like that.”

Vi snorted. “You absolutely do.”

I sighed, already regretting this. “Fine. But if this turns into a disaster, you owe me—big time.”

She grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. This is going to be legendary.”

As soon as the apps finished downloading, Vi snatched my phone right out of my hands. “Nope! You are not sabotaging your own chances at finding love,” she declared, her eyes gleaming with determination.

I sighed, letting her take control because, honestly, fighting her on this would be pointless. Vi had always been like this—stubborn, overenthusiastic, and convinced she knew what was best for me. And, to be fair, she usually did.

Vi had been my best friend since birth. Literally. Our moms had been best friends in college and ended up pregnant around the same time, so we grew up side by side. Sure, she could be very annoying at times, but she was also the person I trusted most in the world. We had been through every high and low together, and despite her occasional chaos, I knew she always had my back.

“There! Your profile is complete,” Vi announced, handing me my phone with a triumphant smile. “Now, we can start hunting for our prey.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I really don’t like that you’re calling them ‘prey.’”

She shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s the circle of life, Y/N. We swipe, we match, we conquer.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this.”

Vi ignored me, already swiping through potential matches like she was picking out groceries. “Ooooh, this one’s cute. She looks like she reads books and goes to the gym. A rare breed.”

I groaned. This was going to be a nightmare.

──────────────────────

During the weekend that Vi stayed over at my house, we matched with a handful of people—well, she matched with them while I mostly watched in horror. By Sunday night, she had already set up a few dates for me. The first one was with a girl named Ashley. She had dark green hair, loved musicals, and was apparently obsessed with Lana Del Rey.

“You’re coming with me, right?” I asked the second Vi dropped the news.

She blinked at me, unimpressed. “How exactly do you expect me to do that?”

“I don’t know! Put on a fake mustache, wear sunglasses, sit at a different table—something!” I waved my hands dramatically. “What if the date is a disaster? What if she’s weird, or hates me, or—what if I need to escape?!”

Vi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was already regretting signing up for this. “Y/N, you’re a grown adult. You can sit through one date without me holding your hand.”

“You say that, but you’re also the one who forced me into this,” I pointed out.

“Okay, fair.” She crossed her arms, thinking for a moment. “How about this—I’ll sit nearby but not like, right there. If you need an out, text me a code word, and I’ll call you with a fake emergency.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s the code word?”

Vi smirked. “Summertime sadness.”

I groaned. “You’re the worst.”

She grinned, tossing a pillow at me. “And yet, you’d be lost without me.”

The date was scheduled for Friday, and there I was, sitting at a window table in the local diner, nervously tapping my fingers against the menu. Vi sat three tables away, pretending to be interested in her milkshake but very obviously keeping an eye on me.

I had no idea what to expect. I barely knew anything about Ashley—we had exchanged a few texts, but nothing meaningful. She was essentially a stranger I was about to have dinner with, and the thought alone made my stomach twist.

Vi caught my eye and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up, trying to send some reassurance my way. It didn’t really help, but I appreciated the effort.

Then, I saw her. Or rather, I saw her hair first. Ashley’s dark green hair stood out even from a distance, but what really sealed the deal was the bright pink jacket she wore over an all-black outfit, complete with chunky black boots. She was hard to miss.

As she approached the table, she smiled wide. “Hii, you must be Y/N!” she greeted, sliding into the seat across from me with an excited energy.

I straightened up. “Yes! Nice to meet you!”

And honestly? It was nice to meet her—at least, at first. The conversation flowed smoothly. She asked about my life, I asked about hers, and everything seemed to be going well. That is… until she brought up her cat.

Lana.

Named, of course, after Lana Del Rey.

Which was cute at first—until Ashley did not stop talking about her.

Not joking, for thirty minutes straight, she went on about Lana’s favorite toys, her special diet, the way she sensed when Ashley was sad and comforted her like a “little furry angel.” Every time I thought she was done, she’d whip out her phone and scroll through an endless gallery of Lana’s pictures.

My face was cramping from forcing a smile. I snuck a glance at Vi, who was clearly enjoying my suffering way too much.

I subtly reached for my phone and typed a single text.

Summertime sadness.

That’s when Vi stood up, striding toward our table with intent. At first, I was confused—she looked… angry?

For a brief second, panic flared in my chest. Had I texted the wrong code word? Was something actually wrong?

Then, she stopped in front of us, dramatically placing a hand over her heart like she was in a soap opera.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” she gasped, sounding exasperated. “I cannot believe what my eyes are showing me! You—cheating on me! And in our favorite diner, of all places?!”

It took me a second, but then I caught on to the theatrics.

I shot up from my seat, clutching my chest as if I had just been caught in the act. “No, Vi, my love! This is not what it looks like!” I turned to Ashley, gesturing dramatically. “I don’t even know this girl! We were just making friendly conversation, you have to believe me!”

Ashley blinked between us, looking both confused and mildly alarmed. “…Wait, what?”

Vi let out a loud, exaggerated sob and turned away. “I trusted you! And this is how you repay me?”

I reached for her hand, playing along. “Baby, please! Let me explain!”

Ashley slowly leaned back in her chair, gripping her drink. “Uh. I—should I leave, or…?”

Vi sniffled, dabbing at her dry eyes like she was wiping away imaginary tears. “No, no. I’ll leave. I just can’t bear to look at you right now, Y/N. I hope you and your little fling are very happy together.” She turned on her heel, storming out with all the grace of a drama queen.

I turned back to Ashley with an apologetic smile. “I should… probably go after her.”

Ashley just nodded, still looking completely lost. “Uh. Yeah. You should… go do that.”

I grabbed my jacket, muttering a quick, “It was nice meeting you,” before practically running out of the diner after Vi.

The second we were outside, we both burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, that was so unhinged,” Vi wheezed, wiping at her eyes.

I groaned, shaking my head. “I cannot believe you just did that.”

She shrugged. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

I sighed, but I couldn’t help but laugh again. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for saving me.”

Vi smirked. “Anytime, cheater.”

──────────────���───────

And I would love to say the other dates went even remotely better—but I’d be lying.

The second date was with a guy named Chad—which, honestly, should’ve been the first red flag. He was a full-on gym bro, the kind who talked about nothing but his gains and his macros. He was so obsessed with hitting his daily protein intake that he actually pulled out a shaker bottle mid-conversation and started chugging a protein shake like we were at a post-workout hangout instead of a date.

I lasted exactly 27 minutes before sending Vi our secret code word: creatine.

Within seconds, my phone rang, and Vi’s panicked voice echoed through the speaker. “Oh my god, Y/N! Grandma’s been in a car accident—the car’s on fire! You need to leave IMMEDIATELY!”

I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying to look convincingly horrified. “Oh no! Not grandma! I—I’m so sorry, Chad, I have to go!”

He barely looked up from flexing his bicep in the reflection of his water glass. “Yeah, cool, family first or whatever. Just don’t forget to hit the gym tomorrow—you’ll feel better.”

I practically sprinted out of there.

The third date? Even worse.

This girl—her name was Marissa—decided to bring her lizard to our date. Yes. A lizard. She texted me to meet her at the park, and I figured, “Oh, cool, a casual outdoor date.” But the second I spotted her on the bench with a giant reptiledraped over her shoulder like it was an accessory, I just… stopped in my tracks.

I didn’t even bother texting Vi. I turned right back around and walked away like I’d never seen that park in my life.

Later, as Vi drove us away from the disaster zone, I was still fuming.

“She brought her lizard, Vi! Her LIZARD!” I complained, slumping in the passenger seat like the sheer memory drained me.

Vi snorted, barely holding back her laughter. “You wouldn’t be having this reaction if it was a dog. Just saying.”

“Because dogs are normal! Lizards are not a third-wheel you bring on a date!”

She grinned, giving me a playful nudge. “Maybe the lizard was her emotional support animal.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “I’m never doing this again.”

Vi just laughed. “Oh, yes you are. We’ve only just begun.”

The fourth date was… surprisingly normal.

Her name was Ellie, and she was hot as fuck. Like, the moment she walked in, I felt my soul leave my body. She had this effortless, cool-girl vibe—tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of her denim jacket, a lazy smile that could probably stop traffic, and this way of looking at you like she was reading your mind.

And the best part? She was actually fun to talk to. She played guitar, had this dry, witty sense of humor, and we clicked in that easy, natural way I didn’t even know was possible. For the first time since Vi threw me into this dating nightmare, I thought, Hey, maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

But, of course, the universe wasn’t about to let me have that.

As the date was winding down, Ellie gave me this soft, apologetic look. I knew something was coming, but I wasn’t prepared for that.

“Hey, so…” she started, fiddling with the ring on her finger. “You’re a really nice girl, like, seriously. But I’m not, uh… I’m not over my ex. And talking to you tonight made me realize how much I miss her. I hope you find what you’re looking for, though. Truly.”

She was so sweet about letting me down, which almost made it worse. Like, why did the only nice, amazing, tattooed goddess have to be the one who didn’t want anything to do with me?

By the time I got home, I was ready to burn Vi’s whole dating plan to the ground. I flopped onto my bed and immediately called her.

“This isn’t working, Vi. Seriously,” I groaned the moment she answered. “Where are you even finding these people? I just had one of the best dates of my life, and suddenly she’s not over her ex?”

Vi snorted on the other end. “Oof. That’s rough.”

“I’m not joking!” I whined, dramatically kicking my feet like I was five. “This is your fault. You roped me into this mess, and now I’m emotionally attached to a girl who doesn’t even want me!”

Vi burst into laughter. “Wow, you’re really going through all five stages of grief, huh?”

“I’m stuck at betrayal, thanks.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s just one date. You’ll bounce back.”

“I don’t want to bounce back, Vi. I want Ellie,” I grumbled, burying my face in my pillow.

There was a pause, then Vi said, “Well… maybe the next date will be even better.”

I groaned louder. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are, still letting me pick your dates.”

Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong.

──────────────────────

After all the disasters I’d been through, I was done with dating. Completely over it. No more awkward small talk, no more weird code words, and definitely no more dates with people who brought lizards as emotional support. Vi, however, refused to let it go. She’d still ramble on about people she’d matched with, her excitement bubbling over like I wasn’t emotionally scarred from the last lineup of dating catastrophes. I didn’t want to hear about it anymore—I knew this wasn’t going to work.

“Okay,” Vi started one afternoon, plopping dramatically onto my bed like she was about to deliver some life-altering news. “I know you’re fed up with the dating apps. And with me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Especially with you.”

She ignored me. “But there’s one more person I’d like you to give a chance to.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed with the same energy as a dying Victorian woman. “Vi—”

She cut me off with a look. That hopeful, annoyingly earnest look that always managed to crack through my walls, no matter how stubborn I was. Despite being mad at her—or at least pretending to be—I could never actually say no to her. It was like some unspoken rule of our friendship.

“Ugh, fine!” I threw my hands up, as if surrendering to the universe itself. “But this is the last time.” I sat up, pointing a finger at her like I was laying down the law. “I’m serious, Vi. After this, I’m done. If anyone wants to date me, they’ll have to show up at my door, kidnap me, and force me into a relationship.”

She burst out laughing, but there was something off about it—like it was a little too forced, a little too high-pitched. Her usual chaotic confidence was still there, but underneath it, I noticed a flicker of something…nervous?

“Yeah, well…” She cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. “About that. There’s just one small catch.”

I squinted at her, already suspicious. “What kind of catch?”

She grinned, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “The date is a secret until you get there.”

I blinked. “A secret?”

“Yup.” She popped the ‘p’ with exaggerated cheer. “No name, no details—just show up and let the magic happen.”

I stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “Vi. Do you hear yourself? This sounds like the start of a true crimedocumentary.”

She waved me off. “Oh, please. If anyone tried to kidnap you, you’d be the one they regretted it instantly.”

Fair point.

Still, something about her expression stuck with me—this weird mix of excitement and nerves. But, like the fool I was, I agreed. Again.

──────────────────────

On the day of my mystery date, I spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to figure out what to wear. Which was ridiculous because, technically, I didn’t even know who I was meeting. But somehow, the not-knowing made it worse. Was I supposed to go casual? Dressy? Prepare for another lizard-wrangling situation?

When I finally arrived at the little café Vi had texted me the address to, my stomach was doing Olympic-level flips. I scanned the room, half-expecting to see another “Chad” flexing in a corner or someone waiting with their tarantula perched on the table.

But there was no Chad. No lizard. No tarantula.

Just Vi.

Sitting at a small table by the window, nervously fiddling with her rings, her usual cocky grin nowhere in sight. She looked up, and when our eyes met, she gave me this small, almost shy smile.

I froze.

“This…is a joke, right?” I blurted, laughing nervously as I approached her table.

She stood up, shoving her hands in the pockets of her red jacket—the same one she always wore, but somehow it felt… different now.

“No joke,” she said quietly, her voice lacking its usual smugness. “I’m the date.”

I blinked. “You’re the date.”

She nodded, her lips twitching like she couldn’t decide whether to smile or run. “Yeah. Surprise?”

I didn’t know what to say. My brain short-circuited, replaying every moment we’d shared—the teasing, the late-night calls, the way my heart always felt lighter around her. How had I not seen it before?

“…Are you kidding me?” I finally managed, shaking my head with a breathless laugh. “You put me through all of that—Chad, the lizard girl, the Lana Del Rey monologue—just to end up here with you?”

She grinned, her confidence slipping back into place like muscle memory. “Well, technically, I needed you to realize everyone else sucks compared to me.”

I rolled my eyes, but my heart was racing for an entirely different reason now.

“You’re insufferable,” I muttered, sliding into the seat across from her.

Her grin softened into something more sincere. “Yeah, but… you’re still here.”

I didn’t have a comeback for that.

Because she was right.

I was still there.

We ordered our coffees—or rather, Vi ordered them. She didn’t even need to ask. She knew exactly what I wanted: an iced caramel latte and a chocolate muffin. It was such a small thing, but it hit me harder than I expected. She knew my order by heart, like it was second nature. And somehow, that simple gesture left me sitting there in awe, my heart doing this ridiculous flutter thing that I refused to acknowledge.

I watched her as she thanked the barista, her fingers tapping against the counter in that restless way she always did when she was nervous—or pretending not to be. When she finally sat back down across from me, her knee bumped against mine under the table. She didn’t move it.

The question slipped out before I could stop it, soft and almost hesitant.

“Since when?”

Vi tilted her head slightly, squinting like she wasn’t sure what I meant. “Since when what?” She scratched the side of her neck, her fingers brushing over the edge of her tattoo like it was a nervous habit.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.

“Since when did you… want to go on a date with me?”

Her expression shifted. Just for a second. A flicker of something vulnerable slipped through the cracks of her usual confidence. But then she let out a short, breathy laugh, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe I’d even asked.

“Being one hundred percent honest?” she said, leaning back in her chair, her arms crossed like she needed a shield. “Since I became conscious about anything in my life.”

I blinked. “What?”

She laughed again, a little softer this time. “I mean it. You’ve always been there, you know? But you were so busy with your face buried in those books, rambling about epic love stories and grand, sweeping gestures. And there I was, just… me.” She cleared her throat as the waitress brought our order, the clink of ceramic cups filling the brief silence.

She picked up her coffee, but didn’t take a sip. Instead, she stared at it like it held the answers she was too afraid to say out loud. “I guess I got a little self-conscious. Like, how was I supposed to compete with all those ‘great loves’ you read about? And you never really seemed to care much about dating, so I figured… if I said something, you’d just let me down.”

Her words hit me like a freight train—because how had I not seen it? How had I been so blind?

“I… I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended. I stared at her, really looked at her, like I was seeing her for the first time. “I never thought that what I was looking for was quite literally right in front of me.”

Vi didn’t respond immediately. She just smiled—small, a little shy, but undeniably real. The kind of smile that makes your chest ache in the best way.

And that’s when it hit me.

I’d spent my whole life waiting for a cliché love story.

The kind with grand declarations, epic twists, and movie-worthy moments.

But what could be more cliché than this?

A slow burn, friends-to-lovers situation, sitting right across from me with a smug grin and a coffee order she knew by heart.

Maybe the love story I’d been searching for wasn’t in the books after all.

Maybe it was in the girl who’d been there all along.

I reached for my latte, mostly just to have something to do with my hands because my heart was practically sprinting. The ice clinked against the sides of the cup, loud in the quiet between us. Vi was still watching me, her gaze steady, like she wasn’t afraid of what I’d say next. Like she already knew.

But I didn’t know. I didn’t know how to string words together when everything inside me felt tangled—like someone had taken all the pages of my life, ripped them out, and shuffled them around until nothing made sense except her.

So I blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Vi chuckled, shaking her head. “Because I’m an idiot?” She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “Or maybe I was just scared. Scared that if I said something, I’d lose you. And losing you… would’ve been worse than keeping it to myself.”

The honesty in her voice settled over me like a weighted blanket—comforting and overwhelming all at once. I thought about every late-night conversation, every casual touch that lingered just a second too long, every time she looked at me like I was her whole world, and I’d been too oblivious to notice.

Maybe I had noticed.

Maybe I was just too scared to admit it.

I glanced down at my muffin, untouched, then back at her. “You’re kind of dumb, you know that?”

She snorted. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

I smiled, feeling it stretch wider than it had in a long time. “But so am I.”

The words weren’t grand or poetic. There was no sweeping background music, no dramatic lighting. Just the faint hum of the coffee shop, the cold of my drink between my hands, and Vi’s knee still pressed against mine like it belonged there.

And maybe that was enough.

No—it was enough.

I reached across the table, my fingers brushing over hers. She froze for a second, her breath hitching, then slowly turned her hand over so our palms touched. The warmth of her skin sent a quiet thrill through me, something soft and electric all at once.

“I think,” I whispered, “I’ve been on this date with you for years. I just didn’t know it.”

Vi’s smile was different this time—brighter, softer, filled with something that made my chest ache in the best way.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Me too.”

──────────────────────

We finished eating between bursts of conversation and laughter, and somehow, everything had changed while staying exactly the same. The comfort was still there, woven into the fabric of who we were, but now it carried something electric beneath the surface. The glances were different—the way her eyes drifted to my mouth when I spoke, the way our intertwined hands never strayed, like we’d forgotten how to exist without that connection.

The walk back to my house felt surreal, our fingers laced tightly together, neither of us willing to let go. Every step felt heavier with anticipation, like the world had tilted slightly, and gravity was pulling us toward something inevitable.

And then, standing at my doorstep, she kissed me.

It wasn’t tentative or shy—it was certain, like she’d been waiting her whole life to do it and wasn’t going to waste another second. It felt like being woken up, like every nerve ending had been dormant until that exact moment. My heart raced, but everything else stilled, like the world had gone quiet just for us.

It was the kind of kiss that rewrites everything you thought you knew about love.

Pieces of a puzzle perfectly aligned.

Vi’s hands found my waist, pulling me closer, and she kissed me like her life depended on it—like I was the air she’d been searching for. My fingers threaded through her hair instinctively, and she let out a quiet sigh against my lips that sent shivers down my spine.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, she rested her forehead against mine, her thumb brushing soft circles against my cheeks.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” she whispered, her voice low and rough around the edges.

I smiled, my heart still racing, my hands still trembling slightly from the intensity of it all. “Then do it again.”

And she did.

Over and over, like she was making up for all the years we’d been too afraid to cross the line.

But we weren’t afraid anymore.

We stayed there for what felt like forever, just standing in front of my house, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace. It was like time had paused, giving us this perfect moment where nothing else mattered but the two of us. The city sounds faded into the background, and all I could hear was the soft rhythm of her breath mingling with mine.

Eventually, she pulled back, just enough to look at me. Her eyes were full of something I couldn’t quite name, but it made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t want to let go of.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice softer now, like a fragile question hanging in the air.

I laughed, breathless, my fingers still tracing the edge of her jaw. “Are you kidding? I’ve been sure for longer than I care to admit.”

She smiled, a quiet, content smile that made me want to hold onto it forever. “Good,” she murmured, her lips brushing against mine again, this time slower, like she was savoring the moment, taking her time.

We didn’t need to rush anymore. Not tonight.

We stayed close as we stepped inside, neither of us wanting to break the connection, like if we did, everything we’d built might shatter. Her hand never left mine as we walked through the door, and when we finally reached the couch, we sat side by side, still tangled up in each other, unable to fully separate.

The night stretched out before us, full of possibilities, full of all the unspoken words between us that no longer needed to be said. Every moment felt like a revelation, like we were discovering each other all over again, but in the most intimate way possible.

Vi’s head rested on my shoulder, her breath even and steady now, and I realized, as I looked at the way she fit against me, that this was it. This was the start of something new, something I hadn’t known I was waiting for but had needed all along.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” she whispered, her voice light with amusement but also a touch of something deeper.

I smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Yeah, we are.”

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t scared of what was coming next. Because it wasn’t about the destination anymore—it was about the journey we were going to take together, step by step, kiss by kiss.

And I was ready for all of it.

──────────────────────

masterlist

[nortism]

I wanted to talk about @pilferingapples ‘s autistic Fantine headcanon that has been brought up in the Les Mis Letters server because it has rewired my brain and the more I think about it the more I can see my own experiences as an autistic woman reflected in Fantine’s story.

Fantine is introduced as being an outsider amongst the other grisettes. I think Hugo’s intention here was to paint her as innocent and virtuous in comparison to them but the way it reads to me is that she is someone who just can’t quite connect with her peers. She is described as being dreamy and “always having a queer look about her” in the words of Favourite.

The way Fantine is treated by the other girls rings very true to me as an autistic woman in my experience with friendship. She does consider the other grisettes her friends yet they speak cruelly about her behind her back (Favourite saying she puts on airs) and to her face (Dahlia mocking her for crying over a dead horse). Yet she offers no resistance, in fact she barely seems to acknowledge these things as offensive, because that’s just what being friends is.

The friendship between the four grisettes is shown to be truly shallow when after Tholomyes’ “prank”, they all go their separate ways, with Hugo saying it was like they’d never been friends in the first place. Realistically, one of the few examples of female friendship in the brick being portrayed as shallow and catty is most likely down to some lingering misogyny on Hugo’s part but it is something I find relatable as someone who has allowed myself to be treated poorly by others because I thought that’s how friendship was supposed to be. I’m sure a lot of other autistic people can relate to this as well.

Additionally, I think it’s interesting how the other grisettes criticisms of Fantine come down to her not acting in the expected way and fitting in with group. Favourite accuses her of putting on airs because she won’t swing like the other girls (therefore let the men look up her skirt). Dahlia laughs at her for getting emotional over the dead horse because her emotions are tainting the happy outing they’re all having. Fantine being empathetic towards animals isn’t an inherently autistic trait by itself but her inability to suppress her emotions or just go along with what everyone else is doing is something I think a lot of neurodivergent people can relate to.

Her relationship with Tholomyes is probably the biggest example of Fantine not understanding unspoken social rules. I’m no history expert and people have definitely written more in depth posts on the relationships between upper class men and working class women in France in this period but from what I’ve gathered it was understood that these relationships were purely transactional. The men got sex and attention and the women got gifts and nice days out to places they couldn’t afford by themselves. There’s more nuance than that I’m sure but that’s the gist.

We know the other three grisettes are aware of this aspect of the relationship. They are eager to receive a “surprise”, an expensive gift they could later sell on. Favourite flatters her lover to his face and says all the things he expects of her but confesses to the other girls that she doesn’t like him because he isn’t playing his role of spending money on her.

Fantine is seemingly oblivious to all of this. Maybe it’s her ostracisation from the other girls that is keeping her ignorant or maybe she knows how it is for them but genuinely believes she and Tholomyes are different. Either way it’s clear to me that her and Tholomyes have very different ideas about their relationship and that subtext has not been picked up by Fantine. For the record, this is completely on Tholomyes, even if he’s supposed to be playing the expected role, leaving his mistress without any financial aid for their child together is bad even by the standards of the time. However Fantine is definitely naïve.

Also if you read Fantine as autistic, her reasons for being in love with Tholomyes make a lot more sense. From Hugo’s description, it doesn’t seem like Tholomyes has many redeeming features: he’s balding and missing teeth, he’s a student in his thirties and he is in poor health. Yet he pays attention to Fantine, he flatters her and spends money to keep her in a nice apartment.

If we assume that Fantine is autistic and has spent her life being an outsider, this onslaught of affection would lead her to let her guard down and believe that this is what love should look like. Even without the autism, Fantine was an orphan, she didn’t have any examples of what a marriage was supposed to look like growing up so how could she possibly resist a man who seems to be doing and saying all the right things?

I think my conclusion is it doesn’t really matter if you want to read Fantine as being autistic or not. I think all the factors I’ve outlined in this post can be explained by her upbringing and her still being very young during her relationship with Tholomyes rather than having to be neurodivergence. However, I think looking at Fantine through an autistic lense has given me a new appreciation for the character and being an outsider in society, a big theme in Les Mis, is generally a relatable sentiment for neurodivergent people and I think it’s interesting to explore that in the context of Fantine.

[sos717]

Hey again,

First I want to preface by saying, I am amazed at the response from my last post. I’m so happy to see so many messages that say it helped them understand it better, butttt…

Since the last post had gained allot of attention, so did my inbox lol, and the asks. I’m going to try and go over the main points I saw allot of you guys asking me and hopefully we can move on from there and clear things up.

A really big question I got funny enough was,

“okay I understand but how do I manifest”

lol you guyssss, I’m not gonna bash anyone because I really do understand the drastic change from dropping the reliance we have on the way things APPEAR to be, and swapping it to relying on ourself for trust, but I will say, what I write is what I’ve already lived through, I wouldn’t give anyone this information if it hadn’t worked for me, and that’s means I’ve shown myself the way this all works, HUNDREDS of times, with an insane variety of topics and aspects of my life, so when I say, please please try to READ the content and truly recognize what it means, I mean it in a way that is with complete certainty, because I’m not just telling you a practice that you pick up at one point of life and either get it or don’t get it.

I’m showing you reality

(oooo I’m already getting excited)

So, how can manifestation be explained?

Let’s take a look at all the aspects of experience when we talk about manifestation, because after all, we are here to choose our experience, but this is actually where our first point starts, you are always choosing the experience. Let’s look at this section first.

We all know, whether we come from LOA (Both kinds) or just have the general idea of manifestation/energy, etc, there is always at some point the topic of source.

And what you’ll notice is, every practice, method, technique, ritual, ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS puts YOU as the focal point. Do you truly think this is coincidence? Is it a coincidence that a vision board is something that you look at? Is it a coincidence that affirming or visualizing is something YOU do? Is it a coincidence that scripting, writing a note, whispering in the air, everything you could possibly think of always has to be something you initiate? No absolutely not.

What I just described is incredibly important for you to understand, and yes I will get to the aspect of feelings how to move forward in life while activating new stories and ideas, but when I say I regret not taking the time to truly understand how IT WAS ABOUT ME BEING SOURCE, I really mean it.

We get so caught up in experiencing and needing and feel overwhelmed by the shit everyone has programmed us to believe which always ends up being limiting.

But one thing that is so badly flawed is that there is never and in depth look at what it means to be source.

I mean this should be the main focus of manifestation, the fact that you are source, but because we become so focused on the world, we turn away from the most important aspect of experience. What I’m about to explain actually goes far beyond right now, it goes ALLLLL the way back…

There is only one source, going back to the beginning of the entire universe, can you try to imagine what’s there? You’d probably come up with just a vast nothingness, but at the same time, you’d be able to recognize that there had to have been something to introduce all of experience right?

Well let’s do this together, let’s imagine the moments before the universe was initiated, in this formless, void, yet no dimensions, no description, no sign of anything actually, but definitely something, some type of thing that has to be here, from which reality takes course.

I think you can see where we’re going, all that is there, is this presence, no identity or sign of personality, but absolutely there. This is source. “Wait then how am I source” you might askkkk, well okay let’s find out how you ARE this source.

When I ask “are you aware” and you of course say yes, I need you to go ahead and find out where the answer yes came from. And not just, “it came from me”, yes we know, but find it, trace the idea back to its origin.

Your going to come up with what you can’t describe

The answer of you being aware of your own existence comes from, a formless nondimensional space, it has no identity, it has no name, it has no appearance, no attributes at all, you could almost mistake it for a void, but as you sit there, coming “face to face” with this empty space that all of your claims, all of your ideas, all aspects of your identity come from, there’s something that is present. It is a presence. It is not a thing, but from this comes absolutely anything and everything that you claim to be true about the world, about experience, about your identity, etc.

That silent presence is source, but more importantly it’s your true identity, the real you.

So what is all of this then? How do we explain the experience part of this?

Let’s speed this up a bit

Now, this part might get a little complicated if you don’t take some time to understand it, like pleaseeee take your time and re-read it a hundred times if you have to.

So, there are a few aspects that stem from source, one of these being perception, and another being sensations, we don’t need to get into the details too hard for these to so I just want you to understand it as “Sense-Perception”. This is just a fancy way to describe the WAY we experience reality, NOT REALITY ITSELF, VERY IMPORTANT.

Feeling, Tasting, Touching, Seeing, Hearing, Smelling, and whatever else you can think of (I think that’s all) ARE FILTERS. It is through the limitations of this filter that you experience your own being, conciousness.

I need you to imagine source, there is no perceiving no attributes, just a vast nothingness, it is full of life and energy which is the starting point for all of existence, but it is not a singular thing.

This is knowing. The very simple effortless thing that you are. From knowing comes absolutely everything and anything.

Let’s take white teeth as an example. So you now know, “white teeth”. However, this is just that, just knowing it, not perceiving it, not touching, not hearing, none of that. But I need you to know that this is infinitely more above any sense or really just anything to ever exist for that matter because it’s source, it’s you.

Now here comes the magic

What would be the result if we added Sense-Perception into/onto knowing? If you not only knew “white teeth” but also saw it? Also heard it? Also could smell, taste, touch, it? Could feel it?

You get what we call the world, no?

You see, the ways we perceive source/ourself is like a VR headset, or glass, or a sheet, and once it’s added to the equation, whatever it is that source is activating/manifesting as, is then experience by source THROUGH/WITH perception.

The part that can be confusing is addressing what currently is perceived. Well, it’s incredibly simple.

We’ve been conditioned into thinking that the senses activating knowing, this is literally just false to begin with because we don’t require senses to know.

For example, you opening your bank account and seeing a balance IS NOT THE REASON to activate the idea “I don’t have enough money” or “I’m can’t overspend”, don’t believe me? then explain why your able to think the same things without looking at your bank account?

If it truly was seeing your bank account that validated the idea, then why are you capable of even knowing anything related to your money story without looking at your bank statements?? It should not be possible without the validation of the senses right?

You shouldn’t be able to think about how poor you are when you’re in the shower, at work, before you sleep.

But it’s possible because what you know is in no way associated or reliant with what is seen. And having the information about what source is should make you hesitant to ever activate a story that doesn’t please you again. You are too comfortable in the cycle your in. I’m sorry if that’s a little harsh.

If we go back to perception being the filter that source experiences its own activity with, you realize that the only thing that ever changes is what’s known. The world is a SIDE EFFECT of VIEWING whats known, LET ME SAY THAT AGAIN.

YOU ARE SOURCE, YOU CREATE, THE WORLD IS WHAT HAPPENS AS A SIDE AFFECT OF PERCIEVING WHAT YOU ARE.

This has absolutely nothing to do with making or forcing things to change, the only thing that changes is you! This is about the way reality works. Not a how to guide on “getting it all”.

Now for the next part, THIS DOES NOT TURN OFF.

When I say that the senses do not create but, YOU DO, that means always!!! So looking in the mirror and complaining about your skin or eye color or nose is not going to ever activate any idea, BECAUSE YOU ARE DOING THE ACTIVATING. Don’t you see?? ITS COMING FROM YOU.

The senses CANT create, they SENSE, they perceive what reality is being! They perceive what IS KNOWN.

They can never ever ever be the cause for what is known. Looking at your teeth cannot create the knowing “my teeth are so yellow” BECAUSE YOU DO. YOU CAN DO THE SAME WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED YOU CAN DO THE SAME UNDERWATER, IN THE SHOWER, IN BED, IN THE E.R, WHATEVER IT IS YOU KNOW IS WHAT REALITY IS, AND THIS IS WHATS PERCEIVED, The side affect of percieving “my teeth are yellow”?? Well you tell me what that would be? EXACTLY.

Understand it like this, if the story or idea I’m about to activate right now could be seen, heard, touched, or just perceived in any way, what would it look/sound like? Do you see what this is now?

When you realize that you are source, allot of things start making more sense, the teachers and videos saying it’s all about you, start making sense, but they make it sound like the world is something you CHANGE as if it exists on its own, NO!

The world is the result of what KNOWING is, when it’s perceived.

At no point does this stop being true, so when you go “my teeth are white” this is reality, this is what will be perceived, but if you decide to go into habit and activate “my teeth are yellow”, there is no different process, this is what will be perceived. There is no bias to reality.

The starting point will always and can only be what’s known, the rest is automatic, as it’s always been, the only difference is, you have been activating things that you don’t like, and because this is source, all that will be perceived is what you know, so if it’s about money, or love, business, school, understand, THE MOMENT, you know something, IT IS REALITY!!!! IM NOT EXAGGERATING.

Don’t confuse the world as if it is its own entity or source, no, it’s a side effect or perceiving, NOT something you’re trying to control.

I want you see it for yourself, this information will not be of any use if you don’t see for yourself.

Please please remember. What’s perceived is not a story, it is not an idea, it’s not telling you what reality is, it’s only that, perception, it’s the same thing as looking at a brick wall for information, it cannot and will never be source, notice where the stories activate when you react to the world, and recognize that it’s something that you know, a feeling cannot stop knowing, NOTHING CAN, ITS SOURCE!

Okay, I’m sorry if this is a bit confusing at first, this is a very alternate view of the way we’ve been taught what reality is, and I know you might have allot more questions, I’m more than willing to answer them, but till then, please read this post or my past post again

(Yes im rambling, im very sleep deprived rn)

[misctf]

I love your VR drone tf so much. Being transformed and controled by the hive mind is just so hot!

A sequel to Careful with VR (hypnosis, muscle growth). Glad you liked it! I have a few asks to still get through, but slowly working on them!

“I ain’t gay.” Joey whispers to himself, “Jus’ curious.” He continues, staring closely at the VR headset, “Fuckin’ Derek.” He grumbles, his words garnished with his typical southern accent, “Nobody’ll find out.” He reassures himself.

He was taken aback when Derek came out as gay. In hindsight, there were signs. Even Joey couldn’t help but admit that his buddy was attractive- he should’ve had no issues hooking up with some sorority bimbo at all the frat mixers. But he always brushed them off, never really trying with women.

“You better not be pullin’ my leg.” He thinks, placing the wrist and ankle cuffs on, “Gosh darn, this feels gay already.” Joey holds up what looks like a waist-trainer and chuckles, “Paid all this for Hive X and this is the best they got.”

It was only a few days prior when his buddy came out and Joey couldn’t seem to comprehend it. He berated him with questions, “are you sure?” and “why would you fuck around with men? Haven’t you ever squeezed a pair of tits?” And they kept coming. Derek was never the type to get angry, but Joey could tell his questioning was bothering him.

“Trust me,” Derek finally said, “men are 1000 times better at sucking dick than chicks. And don’t even get me started on the male G spot.”

Joey couldn’t believe that- the very thought of letting some guy wrap his mouth around his dick... it felt wrong. He didn’t even want to get started on anal. But as he sat in his room, thinking more on Derek’s words, he grew more curious. Derek wasn’t gonna suck him off, and the idea of letting some actual guy in real life do it felt wrong. But it kept nagging at him.

“Can’t believe they got it here so quick.” Joey picked up the headset, “Only two hours after I ordered it. Talk about efficiency.”

If he felt put off by the real deal, he figured a VR experience would suffice. Besides, once he proved it to himself, he’d know Derek was full of shit. And with a smirk, he entered the world of Hive X. It was strange- Joey realized that the cold air of his apartment no longer bothered him. Instead, he was greeted by the warmth of a fireplace.  

“Oh god.” He quickly went to cover his junk, realizing he was naked, “Seriously?” He looked around and sighed, “Guess ain’t nobody around, besides...” He let his arms rest at his sides, “Sure they’ll appreciate the show.”

He wandered down a lengthy hallway, walking past various numbered rooms. There was no indication of anything that went on behind those doors- he was just glad he hadn’t bumped into anyone yet.

“Welcome to Hive X.” Joey jumped and turned to see a normal looking, fully dressed man standing behind him, “You appear lost. I am NPC 202. I am programmed to assist guests find their desired location.”

“I ain’t lookin’ for anything special.” Joey replied, “Just gotta prove to my gay friend that men don’t know how to treat another man right.” NPC 202 cocked his head, “Jesus, I’m sayin’ gays...”

“On assessment of user preferences and subconscious, I’ve determined your ideal experience and NPC.” NPC 202 replied, “Please follow me to room 506.”

“Subconscious?” Joey raised an eyebrow, “And what...” But the NPC was already walking off, “Ain’t nothin’ in my subconscious” He reassured himself, before following behind his guide.

“Please enjoy.” NPC 202 says, standing outside room 506.  

Joey nods, his heart pounding in his chest. Was he really about to do this? Was he really going to let some guy suck him off? He could feel his dick getting hard at the thought, part of him feeling ashamed at his response. But with a heavy sigh, he entered the room. He nearly jumped when the door closed behind him, but he tried to keep his cool. The room was nothing special- it looked like a typical hotel room. But then he heard it- the lumbering footsteps.

“So you’re the guy.” Joey’s eyes widened when the NPC made its appearance, “I’m NPC 719.”

Its voice was gruff and commanding. It was taller than Joey, and far bulkier. A mat of body hair covered its chest and abdomen- its beard framing its face. Its eyes were dull, drinking in the sight of the leaner, toned man in front of it.

“You don’t think a man can make another man cum, right?” It approached Joey, and Joey could only stare, “You wanted to prove that to your friend, right?”

“Yessir.” Joey whispered as NPC 719 pressed him against the door, its musk invading Joey’s nostrils, his dick now stirring even more, growing harder.

“You’re in the right place.”

It happened quickly- the man picked Joey up and threw him onto the bed. Joey’s eyes widened as the NPC’s mouth wrapped around his cock. It was aggressive, and Joey couldn’t help but moan as his dick throbbed with pleasure. Joey’s mind was in shambles- he never... he never felt this good. There was no comparison. The sensation around his dick was so intense, his eyes rolling back in his head. And this went on and on... and on some more.

“Pl-please...” Joey gasped, his balls aching, “I need to...”

“This NPC and room are designed for edging only.” NPC 719’s voice was monotone now, “This was determined to meet your needs.”

“But I....” Joey couldn’t finish- another moan escaped his lips as NPC 719 continued to suck him off.

And in the intensity of his pleasure, Joey could feel his legs being pushed up over his head. His eyes widened as he watched NPC 719 line its massive cock up with his virgin hole. Part of him wanted to say no. To resist. But another part of him... another part of him wanted this. He wanted to feel what Derek meant by the male G spot...

“Oh fuck....” He gasped as NPC 719 entered him, its hips rhythmically moving, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through him, “Oh god... fuck... please...” He never felt this way- this stimulated. Yet he couldn’t cum. His balls ached bad now, his cock throbbing desperately.

“Conclude experience or initiate NPC trial period.” NPC 719 said, while still pounding Joey’s ass, “This will allow user to experience climax and additional unlimited NPC sessions.”   

Joey could barely process the words or understand what they meant. But he did know that it sounded like whatever this trial period was would let him finally release. He needed this. He needed to feel release. Fuck it- didn’t matter if Derek was right...

“Trial period.... oh god please....” He moaned.

NPC 719 stopped and Joey looked up at it with needy, desperate eyes. Before he could ask why it stopped, he felt a searing pain in his arms and legs. He grabbed at them to no avail, writhing as his body was slowly digitized. But what scared him even more was the apparent changes. As the digitization process moved along his arms, he watched as they lost their muscle- becoming slender and more feminine. His abs becoming smooth, his pecs deflating.

“No please... I didn’t!” He grabbed at his neck- his voice. Gone was his south twang- his voice higher, desperate, and slutty, “Oh god I don’t....”

He moaned again as pain exploded from his backside as his ass expanded- inflating into an irresistible bubble butt- perfect for squeezing and fucking. NPC 719 grabbed a fistful of his new ass and grins, watching as his body hair and facial hair vanish- Joey’s face and lips shifting into that of a pouty, desperate slut.

“Initiating directives.”

Joey’s jaw goes slack and eyes dim as the mainframe connects to his mind. Memories are sifted through and repressed. His repressed homosexual desires unleashed. His pleasure receptors enhanced to mind numbing degrees. Joey can feel his name vanish from his mind, replaced with his new designation- NPC 904. His directives clear. His ass was to be used by visitors to Hive X. He would serve them obediently and in doing so would be allowed to cum. Any sense of resistance or fear being overcome by devout obedience and pride in his servitude.

“I am NPC 904.” It said, “Serving is pleasure. Being used is pleasure. I am loyal to the Hive.” It continued.

NPC 719 watched as NPC 904 was led away, a wave of pleasure from the Hive rewarding NPC 719 for a successful acquisition. Meanwhile, NPC 904 was led into its new room, the warm water from the shower caressing its sensitive body. It grew familiar with itself, squeezing its juicy ass, teasing a sensitive nipple. It couldn’t want to meet the first guy who entered. And luckily for NPC 904, it wouldn’t be waiting too long.

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Ch. 111: Anya's Mama

So many things for such a little chapter, don't you think?

We saw baby Anya and we finally caught a glimpse of Anya's biological mother.

Something to notice is that they're both wearing hospital gowns, which makes me think they were in the lab and, because of that, we can solidify the theory about Anya being born there. It could be that her mom was pregnant when captured or that they experimented on her and she got pregnant while in that lab. A secret third option is that Anya's mom actually volunteered for the experiments (maybe she was a scientist herself or a family member coaxed her into doing it), although I find this unlikely due to her comment about the butterfly. Either way, I have a feeling we won't know for a very long time.

Mindreading or no mindreading?

Endo chose not to let us know about that explicitly. However, look at this panel:

I don't think Anya's mom is talking here. I think she's thinking this. Because of that, I do suspect Anya can read her mama's mind. She doesn't fully understand it but those words are inside her memory.

However, as you can see in the panel below, we don't see her classic mindreading sparkles. So, it' could also be that she saw her mom getting sad or nostalgic and she wanted to hug her. Kids are very perceptive of their parent's emotions.

If you ask me, I think she was born with that ability. Either her mom was also a telepath who was being studied during her pregnancy or she was experimented while pregnant and gained and passed her abilities to her daughter.

All this makes me consider that maybe Anya wasn't experimented on like many of us believed for a long time. Maybe those scientists were just studying her/observing her in order to understand and try to replicate her abilities. I'm really hoping Endo will go this route, it's less cruel. In any case, keeping someone so young as a case study is still wrong and I don't think Twilight and Yor will like this.

Anya's Mama

I'm talking about Yor, of course.

First of all, I think Endo summed up what motherhood is about in this panel:

It's not exactly that a mom can read their kid's mind, but it's something close. As a mom you get to know your child inside and out. When you take care of them, see them grow and love them with all your heart, you simply learn to "read every part of them."

That's how we know that Yor loves Anya and that she is her mom.

I don't know what happened to Anya's biological mom; she could be gone or still be alive. I'm sure we'll find out eventually. However, no matter what happens, I think Anya will always have that unconditional love from Yor.

There's a prevalent theme about motherhood in sxf: a mother as a safe place. Yor has mentioned it several times; she knows her job is to protect Anya and Anya feels safe when her mama is around (even Twilight notices this.)

I think the bond between them will get stronger as the story moves forward. Come on, it's pretty obvious Anya is Yor's baby, she's already head over heels and she decided she wanted to be a good mother since day 1. Also, a big theme in the story are bonds that are forged, and chosen family. In the story, blood ties sometimes are complicated (look at the Desmonds, for example.)

I'm not fluent in Japanese, but I am aware that Anya calls Yor and Twilight, Haha and Chichi, which is an English equivalent of "my mom and my dad", instead of just "mom and dad." In case you are wondering, Anya did call her biological mom, the right way: "mama."

At some point in the story, I think we will see Anya call Yor and Twilight, mama and papa the right way. I suspect this will be the moment when they will realize they're no longer a pretend family, but a real one. And it'll be simply beautiful 💖

A Few Questions

Whenever we learn something about one of the Forger's past, we are usually left with even more questions like:

Where's Anya's mom now?: I think either she's still a prisoner somewhere or she's dead. And if she's alive, does she know Anya lives?

How did Anya escape? She was so little! She must have had help from someone.

Who is Anya's dad? Maybe a scientist? A prisoner of war? Or was artificial insemination possible back then?

Is Anya her real name? I'm wondering if her mom called her differently. Here are some theories about her name. I suspect this will be important and I wouldn't be surprised if Anya is not her real name, almost as a foil of Twilight's name and story.

And also, there's a gap between that scene/memory and when Anya gets adopted by Twilight. We know thanks to Franky that in the year before Twilight adopted her, she was previously adopted by four different families, however, there's still a chunk of time missing.

I estimate she's probably 2 years old in that memory, she was 4 when she was adopted by those other families, and 5 years old when Twilight became her dad. That leaves 2 full years blank. Where was she during that time?

[milder-manners]

So this is my Hunter!Dream. He is not a good person, nor is he doing good.

He's been working for the Hunters Organization since he could remember (that is what he tells people). It's basically a cult that raises child soldiers for the Crown. The royalty of the kingdom is blessed with the Enderdragon's magic, anyone who dares defy Her word are harshly punished. The Hunters are basically her not-so-secret-police who are also inscribed with the Enderdragon's magic, giving them super healing and endurance.

Dream knows everything is fucked with the place. Training wasn't kind to him, and he never really held the Organization and their Crown in high regard. But he didn't care. As long as he survived, he was fine being their hound, and he did terrible things in the name of survival. But that all changed when he was sent after George and Sapnap for the suspicion of treason when he was around 21.

The trio basically went on a hell of an adventure. Think extenuating circumstances that force them to work together and slowly get to know one another. Im thinking they fell in a giant ass ravine and had to survive the Deep Dark, Mineshafts, and other things. Dream's humanity actually gets reignited by those two, experiencing true fun and joy for the first time. Along with that, his long buried empathy.

Eventually Bad and Techno gets thrown into the mix (they're here to save Sapnap and George) where the odds are no longer in Dream's favor and people actually talk. Bad, especially, is key to getting Dream to actually consider giving a shit about other people. Dream knows they're all part of the rebellion, he can put two and two together. But Bad doesn't try to convince him to join them, actually he just wants Dream to quit Hunting for his own sake, his own life.

Dream tells Bad that there's no point to saving him, that Dream's a piece of shit who's done terrible things for the Crown. There is nothing better for him anymore. Bad doesn't believe that. That shakes Dream to his core.

I'm thinking Techno and Bad eventually gets captured by another Hunting party (who was sent after Dream). George and Sapnap only barely manage to escape. Dream is on the precipice of something, a choice. He chooses hope, a chance for possible redemption, and he rescues Techno and Bad. Together, the five go to the rebellion. Dream wants to help people, he wants to start caring again. It was a genuinely beautiful feeling he had forgotten.

The rebellion kind of threw it all away from him.

Dream was held under a cell for a long while, he had no idea what the fuck was going on, no came to speak with him. But he held onto that hope that Bad gave him.

Until he was experimented on. The rebellion studied him to understand how the Enderdragon's magic is imbued in him, and it was an agonizing process that nearly killed him. Eventually, he was rescued and found by another Hunting party. They asked him what happened, he told them he was kidnapped.

The experimentation broke Dream's abilities, that along with his injuries made Dream useless to the Hunters after they were done questioning him. Dream felt an itch in the back of his brain: he was drawn to the enchanting runes the Crown uses.

Half crazed from the experimentation and desperation to not be thrown away, Dream threw himself into studying the runes while traveling back to the capitol. He eventually cracked teleportation. He was useful again.

Dream grabs onto that like nothing else and uses it to leverage Anger and Mania out of him to bury the crushing Despair and Hurt that's close to drowning him.

There Is No Redemption. There is Nothing Better for Him.

Dream's put in charge of hunting down members of the rebellion, particularly the leaders Bad and Techno. He gets a double barrel shotgun and gets to work.

[thesirencult]

PAC : Your SP's Thoughts Right Now

Pile 1

This person is kind of conflicted about you and your current relationship. They really want to approach you and offer you something tangible. At the same time, they see you as The Empress, The Star and The Queen Of Wands, while they look at themselves like they are a Page Of Pentacles trying to reach the King Of Pentacles energy.

In the near future, they will finally embody the energy of the King Of Pentacles. I want you to know that they are NOT confused about their feelings for you but about the way they should approach you.

The Hermit card jumped out of the deck, which tells me that you are quite withdrawn right now, at least energetically. This person has a hard time reading your energy and this makes them sad and that's why they are delaying approaching you.

With the 3 Of Pentacles here, this individual sees a clear future with you. They've reached a state of clarity about their emotions towards you. They are very hardworking and serious when it comes to commitment. You are a wish that came true for them and this scares them.

You are, or seem to be, confident, balanced in your feminine and masculine energy, able to command the energy of a room and the focal point EVERYWHERE you go. He feels as if though he isn't enough for you right now (I'm channeling and "He" came out.)

Give him some hints you are interested in him and let him know he can approach you by soulful looks and smiles. He kind of sees the warmth you excude, but at the same time, he is scared to get burned.

Intuitively, I'm getting the vision of a hot spring, her steamy surface and warm waters. I believe that this is symbolic of how that person views you. Healing, rejuvenating, pure, like a warm hug and a hot cup of tea on a cold night. This can also talk about their feelings for you, which are boiling under the surface and they are full of passion. On a more spicy note, that person would love to be with you in one of those steams, lol! I'm seeing a woman, her beautiful back turned to them/me, her hair wet and long, sticking to her back. They see you as beautiful and ethereal, like a nymph. They want to talk now, but let's leave this for another reading!

Pile 2

Your SP is someone lovely. Their energy is light and ethereal. They remind me of a warm breeze on a summer night. They've had to go through a period of intense transformation and healing and they are still processing stuff. Your person is trying to manifest a stable partnership in their life right now. This person can be your soulmate/divine counterpart. They are dreaming of having childrenand they are trying not to lose their hope, as their past experiences have tainted their pure heart.

I'm seeing a complex relationship with their father that has turned them "colder" and a bit skeptical with people. They feel as if though they don't have choices in love right now but they can intuitively feel a connection with you, they just aren't sure if you would be able to provide them with a stable environment. I'm seeing some confusion about your feelings towards them.

This person is hopeful that something will change in the near future. They hope that fate will bring them a bit of luck in their love life. I wish them the best as they are pure hearted and innocent when it comes to love. Their feelings are more airy and not grounded in reality. They might be a Pisces Sun/Venus. They struggle with daydreaming and planning things out.

They could be quite anxious and on edge at times. They have a good heart and they just need someone who will not hurt them.

[oddrobyn]

Hey, now that I’ve officially decided to make a return to my socials I figured I should say my final piece on this so we can all hopefully move on from this awful experience and also because I’m sure some people will try to argue that I “started this” with my initial request asking to be left alone. Although I originally wanted to try and approach this once again without naming the person directly, I’m afraid I will have to due to the fact that they escalated it to the current point that we are. I don’t plan on repeating anything that was presented in the document, people are welcome to find everything there themselves and come to their own conclusions.

I never asked to be pulled into this. When I originally messaged Sno4wy I had done so because I was saddened to see that a member of the community that I only knew in passing was being harassed and knew that there were others who had received the same treatment. I never imagined that wanting to reach out to a fellow member of the community would result in me becoming one of his targets after cutting communication off with him due to someone reaching out to me and letting me know that the story he gave me was not entirely truthful because they were concerned about my safety; and to this day I will thank them for having reached out to warn me before things got worse.

However. Despite me making requests to be left out of a situation that I now knew to be at best exaggerated and at worse falsified, I received concerning screenshots of Sno4wy and associates like Harlot and others talking about me with the intent of dragging my name through the mud because i did not want to get involved, I had “chosen the side of his abusers” in his eyes and shifted from becoming someone “vulnerable and manipulated” to a person who he was now focusing his attention on to try and spread untrue claims about me, which resulted in attempted sabotages against me and my works which in turn unfairly dragged others into this mess solely because they associated with me.

I kept quiet about this for a very long time because I believed, and still believe that a lot of the individuals who were defending or sympathizing with Sno4wy just didn’t know the full story. I naively believed all the way up until my recent request to be left alone that he would one day realize what he was doing was wrong and stop. I would have even been fine with him never apologizing or telling the truth so long as he simply stopped discussing me both publicly and privately in defamatory ways and went his own way. But after more and more people whom I had never spoken to as well as previous friends of Sno4wy reached out to me to warn me about concerning messages they received from him about me, I could no longer ignore what was happening and tried to address it, which is what led to me making my recent post requesting that he stop lying about me and dragging uninvolved parties into all of this.

Although I was disappointed to see that my request resulted in his friend immediately jumping to respond in a way that would make me look like I was “DARVO” Ing as they have often accused me of, I was unfortunately not surprised. The creators of the document had my full permission to use my screenshots and chat logs with him and I logged off so I wouldn’t have to risk seeing more people on Snowy’s side of things attacking me for finally speaking out.

Since the release of the document, I was made aware that evidence against me was fabricated (which was thankfully quickly discovered and called out), that alt accounts were created trying to “debunk” the document and try to minimize what was happening or discredit it by saying it was full of “nonsense ramblings” despite the fact it was primarily made of of screenshots from Sno4wy. These blogs have preemptively blocked me with what I believe to be the specific intent to make sure I am unable to directly respond to it properly. I became aware that a private medical diagnosis I had shared with him was outed and I do not know how many people now have this information. They have now started to argue that for some reason, 471 whole pages of evidence has been faked. But I know this claim will also be debunked and I am confident that people will see what’s going on.

My participation as a moderator in the Memories of My Time Zine on Tumblr was weaponized and I now understand that there was a one sided competition between us and the other MTaS zine, an imaginary feud that was likely created by him. I never worked on it with the intention to create some sort of contest, and I fully believe that he has acted out on his own accord and that the owner of the other zine was not aware of what he was doing, which is why I please ask that you understand I absolutely do not believe that the owner of the zine should be punished for the actions of someone who was trusted with power who had gone rogue and sent out anonymous asks. The Jewel of the Eufala has my entire support as a fellow creative project and it would be unjust to pin any blame on anyone for Sno4wy’s actions but himself.

I am grateful to the people who have read the document and realized what was going on, and to all the people who sent me kind messages and their support. Some of you were friends, some were complete strangers, and some were people who were previously friends of Sno4wy but recognized the danger that I was in and chose to notify me despite the risks. This situation had made me so stressed out to the point I was nearly hospitalized because I could not eat and the fact that a person could make me feel so weak was scary and shameful.

For the longest time I had been afraid with interacting with people outside my immediate circle, and the fear that Snowy may one day try to doxx me the same way he doxxed others is what resulted in me leaving servers I once loved and felt safe in. I had closed down commissions due to being afraid of how PayPal hands out your name with it. I was afraid of talking to new people constantly because I had to wonder if snowy had already gone out of his way to spread lies about me to them, but still chose to never discuss him despite his claims of me reaching out to artists with the intent of trying to rally against him. All I wanted was a community where I could feel safe and befriend people and for a very long time I allowed snowy to take that away from me. But not anymore.

Sno4wy, I am now asking you directly one last time. Please stop. Please leave me alone. Please stop doubling down. I hope you don’t take what I am about to say with offense, as this is something I mean with only the best intention. Please get help. I still believe that with the right help you can heal and become better, just as I have suggested to you privately. Do it not just for those around you, but also for yourself. What you have done has hurt people much more than you may realize. If you truly had the evidence you claimed you had against my friends and I, you would not be hiding behind new alt accounts the way you are now and would have shown your evidence now instead of promising it again and again and again and then never providing or becoming offended when it is requested.

I want this to be the final time I ever have to address this. All I asked was to be left alone, that was all I ever asked. This has been one long nightmare that I just want to end but one that I will not allow to taint my love for this game series or community. It is because of everyone who reached out to me to keep me safe that I want to remain and why I believe that the good outweighs everything. I refuse to let this experience ruin my excitement for future projects and my passion to create and express my love for a game series that I love.

I once again want to express that as a Queer POC I will ALWAYS advocate for spaces where queer, POC, neurodiverse and other marginalized people can safely exist and express their love. I ask that this whole event does not turn people away from the fandom and that they know there are those of us who will support them all the way through.

Please Leave me Alone

Hi, I’ve been sort of attempting to avoid making a post about this but due to numerous concerned individuals reaching out to me and the amount of receipts that I’ve been given regarding this I have to make one last attempt to address the person who has been doing this to me for the past few months.

I know what you’re doing, and you know it’s dishonest and wrong. This needs to stop. Targeting others and involving them in your personal drama just for interacting with me is unacceptable, and the misinformation and harassment have to end.

I’m giving you the chance to take accountability and tell the truth. If I continue to hear that this behavior is still happening, I’ll have no choice but to address it directly.

I’m not interested in some self-made competition for attention and the drama - I just want to share my love for this game and community together with my friends. Please leave me alone.

For the record: I have never, and will never, send anonymous hate to anyone - especially not over being queer or creating gay art. As a queer minority myself, I stand for marginalized communities and will always support safe, inclusive spaces for everyone.

It’s incredibly unfair to your friends as well, who you have most likely been feeding false versions of the story. It’s also unfair to pull completely uninvolved individuals trying to enjoy their time in this space into this especially when you know that this is untrue- then hide behind alt accounts and your friends, which will unfairly put them in a position where they have been defending someone who has been dishonest to them.

I wanted to believe that you were going through a rough spot and that it led you to doing this in a bad state of mind, but this is becoming excessive and I want you to please use this opportunity to reflect on this because you know what you have been doing is wrong and hurts everyone.

[dragqueenstarscream]

hey, its me again, back with more Starscream thoughts, so you just know things are about to get uncomfortably real and introspective! Again, prefacing by saying that a lot of my analysis is based on my own eerily similar experiences to Starscream, so I'm not 100% sure how much of this actually rings true and what is just me projecting.

I have entirely fallen down the StarOp rabbit hole thanks to you, at a speed I never could have expected. When I first finished TFP and started browsing the tags, I'd see the occasional StarOp post and at best be like "alright, sure" and at worst a little confused on where it was coming from, given the infrequency of interactions between the two after like, early season 1. But since I sent that first ask in it just clicked and like.

Before, I was always of the opinion that Starscream joining the autobots was something that could never really work from a character perspective, not just because of his dependency on Megatron like I talked about last time, but like, even if Megatron was completely out of the picture I never felt like the full on redemption and becoming a functioning member of post-war society that becoming an Autobot would entail would particularly be desirable to Starscream (if even possible for reasons both in and out of his control.)

I sorta felt like any good ending for Starscream would have to entail him moreso escaping the narrative than anything else, given the extent to which he's stuck in this cycle almost on a cosmic level, with how he's unable to escape it in any universe, any continuity, which of course ties into wider thoughts on how this franchise seems uninterested in letting Starscream ever escape that cycle. A sort of El Camino style ending, where leaving behind everything you know and running away to Alaska is considered a good ending, all things considered. That naturally led to me shipping him with Knockout, given their chemistry and the fact that they were this close to running away together, it just felt like the most compelling option, narratively speaking.

But now that I've caught onto the StarOp agenda, I've sorta cracked the code and realized that you can make a compelling and believable path to Starscream becoming an Autobot by having him getting together with Optimus initially be on a subconscious level an outlet to recreate the cycle he was in with Megatron purely because he's used to it and doesn't know how to live without it.

Outside of the obvious ideological and moral differences, Optimus and Megatron have a lot in common, especially from the perspective of Starscream. They're both big, strong, masculine figures, and natural-born leaders that effortlessly compel those around them to fight for their respective causes. They both radiate power in a way that I imagine you can almost feel when around them (and in a way I know it, because that's often how it felt being around my personal Megatron, it's why it was so easy to fall back into his arms over and over.)

All this to say, when Starscream gets with Optimus, he's not escaping the cycle, he's changing his target. If he became an autobot he would instantly become the most dedicated autobot, not out of any ideological reasoning or particular desire to be good, but out of an intense loyalty he effortlessly placed in Optimus. But of course, the loyalty phase is only half of this cycle.

This next part I'm heavily basing on what I've realized about my own experiences, so bear with me for a second, (I also doesn't think it exactly applies to TFP as much as it does some other continuities, G1 maybe but I haven't seen much of G1 so idk for sure) but I feel like sometimes Starscream almost tests Megatron in a way when he feels like Megatron's priorities are drifting away from him, (since remember, he needs to be the most important bot in his life, Starscream is desperate for Megatron to be as obsessed with him as he is with Megatron.) so Starscream will sort of do something stupid, maybe he comes up with some harebrained scheme that's probably not gonna work, or he makes some tactical or administrative decision entirely based on what he's feeling on an emotional level, to see "will Megatron back me on this?"

because Megatron does stuff like that all the time, he's far from being a better tactician than Starscream, (notice how the moment Starscream leaves in season 1, the decepticons stop winning like, at all until he comes back?) and he makes rash decisions out of anger all the time, and Starscream goes along with all of it, every single time, so it's only fair that Megatron lets him get away with doing something kinda stupid this once. and when Megatron inevitably doesn't, either because it would work against the Decepticons own goals, or purely because he doesn't want Starscream to think he has power over him, (and despite how good he is at hiding it, Starscream does have power over him in a lot of ways, I might talk about that some other time.) Starscream lashes out, betrays Megatron, and leaves, because once again all the loyalty he gave to Megatron got him nothing in return.

and let's be clear, Starscream doing this is toxic as fuck, but at the same time of course it is, it's almost impossible not to become toxic in an environment like this. And that really comes back to bite you when you get out of that environment, but on a base level still have these habits and base level impulses that might have helped you survive back then but are terrible for the actually decent people you've surrounded yourself with now.

With that, we cut to today, where Starscream is an autobot and he tries to pull one of these "tests" on Optimus because the honeymoon phase is over and Starscream is instinctually ready for things to start getting worse, maybe they had like, one minor argument and Starscream instantly assumed the worst. and I imagine Optimus "fails" the test, says "no, I'm not backing you on this, I'm not gonna let you do that", but unlike Megatron who does so while prioritizing his own ends and his control over Starscream, Optimus is saying no for moral reasons. And I imagine he tries to explain that to Starscream, but that answer isn't hitting him properly because again, Starscream's only thinking in loyalty.

Everything Optimus thought was progress on Starscream's part in living up to autobot ideals was really just newfound intense loyalty to Optimus, his growth was really just him doing what he thinks Optimus would want him to do and what he thinks would gain him Optimus's loyalty in return. and, from Starscream's perspective, it didn't work, so he's thinking "obviously Optimus doesn't care about me at all, fuck him, I'm out of here." so he makes this big display of betraying the autobots and running away.

and from there, it's the question of if Optimus sees through what this is really about. The other autobots are probably no help in that regard, they all probably fall into one of two groups, the "At no point in time was I not 100% sure that this inevitably was going to happen" group, and the "I mean, I had hope for him, and it seemed like he was doing good, but I'm still not that surprised" group.

But of course, Optimus isn't Megatron, he does care about Starscream and wants him to know that, so I imagine he actually tries tracking down Starscream to have an actual conversation with him to try and figure out where his mind has really been at these past few months, and if he catches on to even a little bit of the subtext of what I've been saying here, he's gonna be like "oh shit, there is a lot more we need to work on than I thought."

and yeah, Megatron fucked up Starscream in ways that its gonna take years to properly unpack, so Starscream is lucky to have found quite possibly the best person to help him through it in Optimus. It's gonna be a rocky road, but Optimus is in for the ride.

and I do think this relationship could eventually become healthy, and I like reading fics where they've managed to make it healthy, but I do think at first it really wouldn't be, and as someone with the autism that makes you obsessed with themes and motifs and subtext, the process of seeing it become better, of seeing Starscream have to unlearn these old harmful defense mechanisms, THAT is really what makes my brain vibrate, especially because I've had to go through that same process myself after finally getting away from my personal Megatron for what I'm thankfully certain now is the final time.

also kinda realizing a lot of this kinda sounds like borderline personality disorder, which. that might be something I have to look into in regards to myself, damn. anyways, yeah, thanks for letting me kill the vibe again, appreciate it! I'll probably try and keep these shorter in the future, I imagine it's kind of a lot to suddenly have 1500 words of deep character analysis with hints of traumadumping suddenly thrown in your askbox lol. If this actually was a bit too much then I'm sorry, you can tell me to dial it down a little if you want.

and this, right here, is why starop is my favorite transformers ship.

you really hit the nail on the head with this one. when done well, it's not only cute and fun to explore, but it's also a deep dive into starscream as a character and what could possibly lead to a redemption arc. sure, you don't need starscream to fall in love with optimus to redeem him, but how that would actually play out is so fascinating.

sure, i love aus where starscream is an autobot spy the whole time. yes, i love aus where they were in love in the past and got separated. but the idea of starscream replacing megatron with optimus in his mind fits him so well, because, as an abuse victim myself, it's easy to find yourself drawn to people who remind you of your abuser.

and that's where optimus' kindness sets him apart, because when starscream pushes back on him, optimus doesn't do what starscream expects. he doesn't lash out or hit him or verbally berate him. he responds with honest concern, trying to figure out what's wrong.

and that kindness, that sincerity, is something starscream doesn't even realize he's been missing the entire time.

i do believe they have the potential to be healthy, but the fight towards them actually becoming healthy and helping starscream get out of his toxic mindset is part of what makes these two so damn compelling.

always happy to have another starop fan.

(also you don't have to worry about toning it down lmao, gods know i ramble like a maniac about my favorite things. i'm not gonna be the one to judge)