#but anyways we ball we ball life it never die or something

[shinikamo]

I am alive after all these months happy birthday Kazunari

Saw some guy on the internet draw Polaroid style stuff and convinced myself I could do that too so here's my attempt, I absolutely hate the bg but hey we ball this just means I've gotta do more studies so I can draw backgrounds that don't look like creepypasta settings

[nomairuins]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle

[saym0-0]

grahh i need to remind myself to Not Involve myself in fandom space in this fandom. look at pretty fan creations thats it. im guilty of kinda posting about the fandom (see: this post) but i need to put it somewhere yk. idk everyone is so negative sharing their opinions on other peoples headcanons,, im going back to my complex roseblings/esmp1 centric multiverse that i havent properly posted about even tho its fully how i see the characters. what am i even saying im not tagging this post i dont want people to find it

oh my god guys do NOT open tags i reached character limit on most of them AND got to all 30 tags

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Twenty

Steve gets dressed fast, his brain kind of fixating on the memory of Eddie’s...penis? Wriggling it’s way across his skin. The way the head or...face, had slowly started to open up.

Jesus Christ.

They can just never have sex. Or be naked together. Ever. That’s fine. That’s absolutely the most normal and logical way to play this. Steve stops, one leg in and one leg out of his pants...what if it bites?

“Stee love?” Eddie’s still wrapped in a towel, wearing it kind of toga style, wrapped firmly under his armpits. He already has his hat back on. He’s fidgeting with the edge of the material.

Eddie used to be half fish anyway, so it’s not like Steve was expecting an involved sexual relationship when...when he thought Eddie was going to die. Steve feels like absolute shit for thinking it, but there was never any commitment before, their relationship had a very definite end. Which, yes, okay, had the positive effect of Steve just...completely by passing any kind of sexuality crisis.

Or species crisis.

But now...now he’s in it for the long haul. And Eddie may want intimacy. Hell, Steve would quite like some intimacy. When Eddie just had a...well, a parting, like a girl, Steve hadn’t given it much thought really, Eddie’s only just freshly legged. Eddie only just now has a real life span. Steve just kind of figured they'd...work something out at some point.

They are probably still going to have to do that.

“Stee love?” Eddie asks again, more quietly this time, uncertain. Steve hates that he’s probably the cause of that.

He still wants the defense of pants though, right now, while he...processes things.

“Right, Yeah,” Steve forces his brain back on line; whatever that was, Eddie was fine with it. And it’s a part of Eddie, clearly...so. Steve needs to just get over this real fast, “what do you want to wear? You can choose.”

“Choose,” Eddie goes to the closet, pulling out some draw string sweat pants and the sweater Joyce made for him.

He takes the towel off, leaving it on the bottom of the bed. The slit is clearly closed; Steve can’t see any evidence of anything. He’s so entranced, staring at the space between Eddie’s legs, that Eddie manages to get a leg in before Steve thinks to intervene, “wait, baby, boxers first.”

Steve gets them, Eddie pulling his leg out, turning the pants inside out in the process. He puts the boxers on backwards, but Steve figures it doesn’t matter since he’s got to sit to pee anyway. Eddie’s clearly confused by one leg being inside out, so Steve helps him fix it.

Watching Eddie put on the sweater is a bit of an experience, it starts off going on over his head sideways, one arm hanging from Eddie’s chest, so Eddie twists and sticks an arm in there, forcing it to straighten before he puts the other one in.

“Uhm,” Steve says, staring at the fully six inches of belly buttonless exposed midriff Eddie’s left with, “maybe we should put a tee shirt on underneath.”

“Underneath,” Eddie cocks his head.

Steve gets him a shirt, helping him back out of the sweater, into the tee shirt, then back into the sweater. The shirt is pastel blue, the sweat pants gray, the sweater red and green. It’s a bit of a look, especially with the bobble hat, but Eddie grins big as Steve finishes dressing himself. Eddie watches closely as Steve puts his socks on, and then goes and gets himself a balled up pair from the drawer.

He sits on the edge of the bed, next to Steve, unballing the socks, one immediately falling to the floor, Eddie clearly not expecting what would happen as he unraveled them. He gets them on okay, apart from one being upside down, so the heel is on the top of his foot. He’s pulled both of them up over the top of the ankle cuffs of his pants.

“My boyfriend is a fashion disaster,” Steve comes to terms with it pretty fast; it’s just Eddie being...Eddie.

“Called boyfriend? Called...fashion disaster?” Eddie sounds the words out carefully.

“Oh boy,” Steve sighs, “here, let me at least fix the socks,” Steve kneels, twisting one sock the right way around and then pulling the cuffs of his pants out so they’re over the top. It reminds him of the ring, kneeling in front of Eddie like this; Steve touches it, where Eddie’s hands rest on his thighs. He might not of exactly intentionally put the ring on that finger in the moment, but now that he realizes what he’s done he definitely likes it. “Boyfriends means I love you, and you love me.”

Eddie nods.

“It’s not the same as friend love...so I love Birdie, but it’s different, to how I love you...I won’t kiss anyone, except you, you understand? I love Birdie, and the kids, and Nancy and John and Joyce and...Hopper, I guess. I love them and I care about them, but…”

“Love Eddidie more good.”

“Yeah, yeah baby.”

Eddie nods, “Eddidie love Stee. Perfect love. Kiss Stee. Not kiss not Stee,” Eddie’s so earnest as he looks down at Steve. His eyes are much better, only vague traces of where they were bloodshot, the lids no longer red or swollen.

Steve snorts a laugh, “so you won’t kiss anyone else,” he says slowly, “you won’t kiss other people.”

“People. Stee. Eddidie. Kids. Hopper. El. Joyce…”

“All,” Steve makes a large encompassing gesture with his hands, “all people.”

“Not kiss all people. Kiss Stee,” Eddie tells him, almost desperate, “love Stee.”

“Love you too baby.”

Eddie’s face crumples for a moment, and for that horrible second Steve thinks Eddie’s going to cry, he certainly looks on the verge of it, big brown eyes liquid, when he says, “Eddidie sorry.”

“Sorry for what baby?” Steve rubs at Eddie’s thigh through the material of his sweat pants, trying to comfort him.

“Eddidie different.”

“I...yeah. Yeah but it’s okay, it’s fine-”

“Not. Stee scared.”

Steve sighs, well fuck, he thinks. “I was just…you are different, okay. But it’s fine, okay, it’s good, I was just...surprised. Okay? Not bad. Not bad I promise.”

“Perfect true? Promise? Eddidie not bad?”

“You’re not bad. I promise okay, it’s fine. It’s fine.”

“Touch more? Kiss?” Eddie asks uncertainly, and for the first time ever, Eddie won’t look at Steve when he speaks. He’s staring down at his own knees instead. It guts Steve a little.

“I...yeah. Yeah...later?”

“Today?” Eddie looks up, so earnest still.

He clearly needs reassurance and Steve feels like an absolute shit for making Eddie feel this way. He really didn’t mean to, his response was pure instinct, he really had no control over it, “maybe today...maybe tomorrow? Soon, okay. I promise soon.”

Eddie nods in agreement, but he looks...wilted.

“Come on, you wanted cobbler? And we can watch ‘Splash’?” Steve knows it’s distraction through bribery, but he just needs a little time to process.

Eddie brightens immediately, nodding, “cobbler many good.”

Tom Hanks is under a table, trying to dry Daryl Hannah’s mermaid tail away with his dress tie. Eddie is fascinated. He’s sitting forward in his seat, watching, enraptured.

The phone rings, but Eddie barely registers it, so Steve leaves him to it.

“Hey kid it’s Hopper, you still want a ride to your appointment tomorrow?”

And actually, Steve had more or less forgotten, “uhm...no, I think I’ll be okay,” Steve’s pretty sure he’s up for driving, he can get a shoe on no issue now as long as he’s careful.

“All right, I’m going to need some I.D. photos of Eddie for his documents, think you can manage that?”

“Yeah, yeah Hop, should be able to do that tomorrow. We need groceries anyway.”

“Right, well don’t forget he can’t wear that hat in the photos.”

Shit, Steve thinks, “might have to wait then, I mean his ears are kind of pointy.”

Hopper hums, “what about a wig? Like a fancy dress one that looks like his hair, just for the photos?”

“That...could work, but where-”

Hopper sighs down the phone, and it sounds like it pains him to admit, “I might have something.”

“Again?” Eddie asks, the second the film finishes, “Madison good.”

“Later baby, Joyce is coming over.”

Eddie immediately perks up, “Christmas food?”

Steve laughs, “no, something else, but are you hungry?” Eddie nods, “okay, I can make us something quick.”

“Here honey, sit down,” Joyce indicates a chair for Eddie, “I’m not sure how well this will curl, but if I just spray it down and twist it up, it might be curly tomorrow.”

Eddie sits, letting Joyce fit the wig on his head. It’s obviously false, and nothing like Eddie’s real hair, but the transformation is still immediate. It makes Eddie look healthier, more like himself. Joyce hums to herself as she brushes it out, Eddie fiddling with the ends.

“And why do you have this?”

“I told you kid, no questions.”

“Oh don’t be such a grouch Hop,” Joyce chastises him, smiling, “we went to a costume party for Halloween, we were Sonny and Cher.”

Steve can’t help the shit eating grin he turns on Hopper, “of course you were,” Hopper just rolls his eyes and mooches a beer out of the fridge.

“Eddie I’m going to cut some off this okay? I’ll try and get it about right for you okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, sounding bemused, “thank you Joyce.”

“Such good manners honey, you’re very welcome.”

“Called manners?”

“Oh...well it mean you always remember to say please and thank you.”

“Please and thank you.”

Steve watches them chatting away, vaguely listening to them talk as Joyce asks Eddie which were his favorite parts of Christmas; she seems genuinely thrilled that Eddie is wearing the sweater she made.

Hopper’s leaning against the counter with his beer, “kid we gotta do something about the pool.”

For a moment, the words resurface a truly horrific set of memories that bring Steve up short. Just for a second, he almost can’t breathe, and then it passes, “look Hop, that day, I’m...I shouldn’t have shouted, the way that I did-”

“Kid, I’m old enough to know when I was wrong,” he looks over at where Joyce is snipping bits off Eddie’s ‘hair,’ “and I was wrong.”

Steve looks out the window with Hopper; it’s cold out there, a thin layer of fresh snow decorates the lawn with patchy white splotches. Steve can see what Hopper means though; Steve’s pool chair is nearly black with vines. Hopper moves, clearly intending to head out there; Steve heads into the hall, slipping on his sneakers carefully and grabbing a jacket and some gloves.

He meets Hopper, looking down at the vines and the shitty murky crap in the bottom; Hopper flicks his cigarette end into the muck.

He sighs, “what you got in the shed?”

They had drained the pool as much as they could, but the pump soon started to protest the sludge, so they turned it off and then Steve ran it through with buckets of clean water from the hose. Hopper’s in there, double layers of trash bags taped to his thighs and a bandana mask over his mouth and nose. Joyce and Eddie have a shovel and a fork between them, standing on the pool edge, scraping the vines off the edge and the tiles so they drop into the black muck at the bottom. They’re dead and brittle, snapping and breaking off easily, leaving little puffs of grey dust to float down after the chunks fall.

Steve runs back and forth, sneakers dirty as he goes as far in as he dares, shoveling and moving buckets and then the wheelbarrow to Hopper’s instruction. There’s a clear set of footprints and wheel marks across the lawn and snow, into the trees where Steve’s been dumping all this is in the hopes the melting snow and rain will wash it all away.

They work for a couple of hours before the dark finally drives them back inside, but the pool does look much improved. Steve figures if he can get out there in the day and spend a good few hours on it, he could definitely clear the worst of it. It’s gross, but no where near as deep as Steve feared it would be.

“Once we get near to the end we can put a couple of feet of water in, then just get in and scrub and the pump should do the rest,” Hopper tells him, “you got your appointment tomorrow, but I’ll drop by the day after?”

“Thanks...thanks so much Hopper, I really really appreciate this.”

Hopper shrugs, “I’ll bring Jon, he can help.”

“Thank you Hopper,” Eddie tells him, too.

“Kid, really, it’s fine. No pine cones necessary.”

Part TwentyTwo

[demonsword586]

Leviathan Attacker part 5

(Out of context,I am a bit afraid of getting taken down. Since I'm pretty sure we all heard what happened to whb wiki and the person in charge of it. As of now there is ln't too much info but apperantly someone reported them and they had to take down all the pics and audios and their blog is also down?! I dunno,I'm just a bit nervous for everyone who is posting a lot of PB's work in case we also get reported and all of this would go to hell.I really hope the person who arcvhived everything for the public isn't in a lot of trouble. It hurts seeing someone who worked so hard for this fandom get ghosted out of existence. Anyway enjoy your horny deer boy)

Leviathan: Ku,urgh...

Leviathan stiffened for moment.

Not because he had calmed down,but because he had ejaculated largly inside !ou again.

A great rush of pleasure,washed over you as you felt your stomach fill with his fluids again. At the same time,you began to feel something else fill you.

MC: How....Why...are you getting harder?!

As you screamed,Leviathan began thrusting inside you roughly,as though the tightwned grip on his throat has made him more than pleased.

You tried to calm Leviathan down somehow,placing a hand over your hole to stop his cock but it backfired.

He buckled his hips harder,as if your touch has made him even more excited.

Each time he did so,the rattling balls beneath his cock,slapped against your bottom

Unable to resist the pleasure that had taken over your head,your hand that was holding the curtain ribbon finally let go.

Wheter you passed out or died while having sex with him,it would be a death of luxury that would make the former devils of Hades jealous.

With those thoughts,you began to mark Leviathan's entire body as if in a final act of death.

You pulled yourself up by placing one hand behind your back and with your free hand you frantically grabbed Leviathan's shoulders,forearms and chest,punching and slapping,embracing the pleasure that was driving you.

In the meantime,your soften and swollen hole and Leviathan's fully hardened flesh were rubbing against each other,producing an endless stream of moisture.

You had a feeling that Leviathan was about to ejaculate again.

This time however,you wanted him to call out your name,rather than to come inside you in a daze.

MC: Leviathan...ugh..Levi...ah!..than...Who am I?

Leviathan: Shut up.....

MC: Look properly...mmgh...Who am I?

Leviathan: Urgh...fuck...Mc

Your fingertips and toes twiched and your eyes narrowed as the perfect auditory stimulus was applied.

It was like a bull running downhill after being kicked in the bottom and then being lifted back up in the air.

In a moment that felt very long,you tightened your inner walls with all the strenght your body could mutter, in your almost unconscious state.

Leviathan: Kurgh?!

Leviathan's eyes seem to turn bright red,and then he buckled his hips harder than you expected,spewing a massive load of cum into you.

MC: No...there's...no more space inside my stomach...I think it will come out of my mouth!

You uttered something,you didn't even know you were saying.

At the same time,a large fountain splashed unknowingly between your legs.

You felt giddy,like you had just ejaculated for the first time in your life and your whole body tingled.

You had a lot of expectations and fantasies about love and sex in your life,including a variety of diffrent and somewhat bizzare,if you will,delusions as well.

Like the clinches that weren't used that much these days even in the K-dramas that Minhyeoks family enjoyed watching.

Sex with Leviathan however,went far beyond that and fulfilled your most basic desires.

The feeling of being a female,being completely owned and held by the strongest male in the world.

That was an expwrience you would never felt on Earth.

MC: Ha...ha...ha...

A feeling of exaustion beyond a pleasant langour washed over you.

MC:( Will I...really die like this?...From coition death?!)

That was a death that was very becoming of you in itself. But...

MC: ( I'd feel a little bad for Minhyeok if I died like that...)

The moment the thought struck,Leviathan's eyes which seemed to be locked in a state of perfect pleasure flashed with frightwning intensity.

The half-dazed,half-crazed look he had before was now nowhere to be seen.

Leviathan: Who are you thinking of,when me is infront of you?

Leviathan: When I am filling you to the brim like this!

The aura of jealousy dripping from his eyes rwminded you of cum drippi g from his cock.

MC: Levi..ahtan...are you,ugh..awake,agh?!

For a moment you wondered if Levoathan had come to his senses and was done with this act.

He was rubbing his penis that was dripping wirh cum over your genitals.

You were already feeling lanquid,but as he gently rubbed himself on you,you felt sleep wash over you with a faint sense of pleasure.

The cum he'd ejaculated was dripping down but he coudn't be bothered.

MC: Leviathan...

Leviathan: What?

MC: Are you still cold?

Leviathan: !

Leviathan widened his eyes in slight suprise,before returning to his normal expression.

And then he carefully brushed the wet hair off your cheek with a hot hand.

Leviathan:....It's warm.

MC: That's a relief.

You said and completely fell asleep.

You opened your bleary eyes,feeling the sun gently warm your cheeks.

MC: Leviathan...?

You were laying on Leviathan's bed alone.

Barbatos: Ah,are you awake? MC? I understand that you would suddenly open your eyes because the sun makes you feep good!

Foras: ...But it may have been to keep your eyes closed for longer.

Foras said kindly,seriously approaching the bed.

There was already a blanket someone put on top of you,but Foras pulled it up some more,covering you snugly to the base of your neck.

Foras: His Majesty Leviathan is away on urgent state affairs. And he assured us to take good care of you.

You were dissapointed not to see Leviathan when you opened your eyes,but you were pleased that he assured them to take good care of you.

Glasyal La Bolas: Keke,Foras. I think it was too much for his Majesty Leviathan instead! You really must have intended on squezzing out all of the seeds inside his Majesty Leviathan.

Said Glasyal La Bolas,pointing to the curtain ribbon which still smelled thickly of Leviathan.

MC: Huh? What do you mean?

Glasyal La Bolas: Did you know that when they hang death-row convicts,they place a bucket under them?

MC: No? Why do they do that?

Glasyal La Bolas: Because men ejaculate a massive amount just before they die whrn they're hung. They ejaculate all the remaining cum inside of their bodies.

Glasyal La Bolas: They're trying to plant a seed somehow just before they die.

Foras: It doesn't have to be strangluation,but creatures have an instinctive reaction to death.

Foras: For example,ejaculating when stiching up a severed arm that's incredibly painful or when your throat is slit.

MC: !

You suddenly realized why strangling Leviathan has backfired.

Hanging already made you instinctevly ejaculate and Leviathan was a devil who even had a fetish for strangulation.

MC: ( I was out of my mind! I didn't think of that before...)

You felt embarrassed realizing in hindsight ypu had encouraged Leviathan.

And at the same time Glasyal La Bolas's words felt like a clue.

MC:....Today,Leviathan was strange. He was immensely....

Barbatos: I know.

MC: Why is Leviathan...

Why did Leviathan look sad? Why did he say unintelligible things? Why did he indulge himself so much? They were questions with many answers,but Barbatos's wistful face prevented you from saying more.

Foras began to speak as though he understood the meaning behind your question.

Foras: Rather than being today,but today a long time ago.

Foras: Is the day he escaped the farm in Heaven.

Foras: That day he only had two choices: to live or to die.

MC: Oh..!

Only then did you understand the unintelligible words Leviathan had been muttering.

MC: (Having to avoid cold,dangerous places to somewhere safe and warm...)

Glasyal La Bolas: He would only have one thought "I have to survive because I ran at the price of everyone else's lives".

Barbatos: On the same day every year,survival instincts are expressed as trauma.

Barbatos: He doesn't like to be around a lot of devils at this time of year. Yes,agoraphobia in human terms.

Too many thoughts filled your mind,and you went blank for a moment.

Foras: This time MC,I think we have something to thank you for. The beautiful palace is intact.

Barbatos: True! The palace that doesn't need repairs is the best! The architect devil will be happy

MC: What do you mean by that?

Foras: Normally...Theres no telling what his Majesty Leviathan will do with his overflowing lust and rage for the angels on this day,and it usually results in the destruction of the palace.

MC: He destroys the palace?

Glasyal La Bolas: The main hall is submerged up to the ankles in cum.

Foras: Sometimes a coffin will appear and he summon an apostle,and we have to risk our lives to stop it.

Foras: The grief,fear,anger and responisbility he feels today would be hard for even God to handle.

Barbatos: You're the first one ever to accept it all.

Barbatos spoke proudly,but he had a subtle look on his face.

MC: (He's like Leviathan when he's jelaous...)

You sat up and thought of the many expressions Leviathan pulled a while ago. Just then...

Splash!

When Glasyal La Bolas stomped his feet with a grin,the liquid on the floor of Leviathan's bedroom that was about a finger's lenght high belatedly caught your eyes.

MC: Why is the floor in the bedroom so splashy?..

Glasyal La Bolas: (dark grin) It's the liquid you and his Majesty squirted.

Glasyal La Bolas said flippantly and Foras glared at him fiercly.

Foras: Anyway,its all thanks to you that this beautiful palace wasn't destroyed.

Foras: I'm glad that the landscape is the same now as it was when you came here today.

Barbatos: It's like a sword that's been cutting through everything it touches because it doesn't have a sheat now has a sheat!

At Barbatos's words,you felt your stomach tightened involuntarily as though you could feel Leviathans presence again,filling your insides.

Drip-!

Some of the liquid that still filled your stomach to the brim dribbled out.

Noticing the subtle change in your expression,Foras stepped closer and laid you back down.

Foras: Sleep some more now. We'll clean this up.

Foras's soft voice and warm touch drew on the languor you had forgotten about.

The moment you nodded and lay back down,Leviathan's thick scent on the sheets enveloped you.

When you opened your eyes again,you were in Gehenna.

And that night you had a good dream.

A dream of walking on the beautiful streets of Hell with younger Leviathan,his flesh smooth and unblemished.

There,Leviathan didn't have cold,cramped or dangerous memories.

As you smiled in your sleep,Leviathan also had the same expression as he slept in Hades.

As the two were dreaming the same dream.

[tonberry-yoda]

Interdimensional Hell - Miguel O'Hara

notes - FOR THE POLL!!!! This has been in the works for a while, but here it is! It's a long ass fic with my whole heart and soul packed into it (+ the beautiful addition of not being proofread lolol) and I am so exited to share! I hope my Miguel lovers enjoy this fic!! <3 word count - 4,060 (omfg this is my longest fic on tumblr LMFAOOOO) WARNINGS - lots of angst, not proofread, f!reader, mentions of a near panic attack summary - you were Miguel O'Hara's wife. You were more than happy to be with someone like him, but was unfortunately taken away from your family when your world was torn apart by what looked like a glitching videogame. Now you travel through dimension after dimension looking for your family and will stop at nothing to do so while also having some fun along the way

“Gabriella!” You were close to tears as your daughter ran to you, jumping into your arms.

“Mamma, did you see that?” she said with a bright smile, sweat beading on her forehead. “When I kicked the ball, it was like BAM and then it went FWOOSH and then we won!!”

“I did see that, baby. I am so darn proud of you.” You pinched her nose, giving it a little kiss as your husband walked up holding an ice cream cone.

“Did you see that, papa?” she asked as he handed her the ice cream.

“Of course I did. You are so talented.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. She thanked him for the cone and giggled as he threw her on his back for a piggyback ride.

“You got that on video, didn’t you, Miguel?” you asked, scruffing Gabriella’s hair.

“Yup.” he responded, bouncing Gabriella and telling her how proud he was of her. God, his smile was perfect.

You pulled out the camera from its bag and filmed your husband and daughter. Literally nothing could be better than this.

Gabreiella giggled and made fun of Miguel before slamming the ice cream in his face, the two breaking out in laughter. When he set her on the ground, he gave her a five second head start to run out in the field before he would come after her, telling her to be careful with the ice cream.

He looked up at you and you giggled. “Miguel, you’re face, love.”

“What? What’re you–” he chuckled as he wiped ice cream off of his face. “Did I get it?” he asked.

“Hold on.” You set down the camera and pulled a baby wipe out of your bag, dabbing it on Miguel’s face.

“It’s been five seconds now!” Gabriella shouted from the other side of the field.

Miguel kissed your cheek and dashed after his daughter. You smiled at the camera before turning it off.

Nothing lasts forever.

You heard that from everyone, but you hated that it was true.

Even the happiest month of your life can turn to shit really fast.

When the world started glitching, you thought you were losing your mind. You worked from home and Miguel was out with Gabriella for the day. You looked to the corner of your room and it… glitched. Like something out of a movie. You never told anyone, especially when it kept happening. You thought that no one else saw it, that it was your mind playing tricks.

But when it kept happening, you knew something was wrong.

And when the world ended, you were right, and you knew you would never see your family ever again.

You ran out into the streets and saw people running, the world behind them disappearing, and even some of them faded into nothingness. You wanted to scream, cry, anything. But you froze, watching the colossal whatever it was coming for you. And then you saw something else. It looked different than the giant glitching wall. It was small and no bigger than the gap under a bed. You jumped in without even thinking. You were going to die anyway, so why not be a little reckless?

As you felt like you were falling for days, you thought of your daughter. Why didn’t you go after her? You felt like a terrible mother and curled into a ball, crying. No one was coming to save you and you weren't coming to save anyone. The world wasn’t what it used to be a month ago, a week ago, hell, it wasn’t even this bad a day ago. You cried for your family, knowing that you couldn't do a thing for them and then everything went black.

—

“Is she alive?” you heard a voice say, but couldn't see where it came from.

“I sure hope so. I don't get paid enough for someone to die here.”

“Well check!”

You felt cold hands brush your forehead and you jerked awake, coughing and trying not to scream.

“Woah, woah!” you heard the voice from the start say. “Everything’s fine. We’re not gonna hurt you.” You saw that the voice came from a boy with bright blonde hair and a cybernetic eye.

The other one was a man with brown hair, who looked like he could crush you – tan skin and muscles bigger than you.

You went to say something, but glitched, making the two men jump back.

“Woah there!” the blonde one said. “You’re not from here, are you?”

You just shook your head and could already feel a headache forming.

“I don't have time for this,” the bigger one said. “I have a shop to run.”

“At least give the girl a watch! She looks stressed out enough and I think the last thing we need to do is have her glitching.”

“I think the last thing we need to do is deal with someone that isn't from here. That happens far too often, don't you think, Spike? You have too much sympathy for the outsiders.”

“And what if I do?” Spike asked, crossing his arms. “I don't think you have enough, Wade.”

Spike walked away from you and opened a large cabinet from above Wade’s head, pulling out a bright green watch. He slipped it on your wrist and proceeded to click a few buttons and everything tense inside of you strangely managed to slip away.

You took a deep breath and smiled at Spike. “Thank you,” you said to him. “It’s been a really long day.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled. “First time out of your dimension?”

You nodded and adjusted the watch.

“Well, make sure to keep that bad boy locked in place. Don't want to be outside of your dimension without one or else… well, think bad, but worse.” He sat in a rolly chair and spun to his computer. “Can you do me a favor, missy?”

“Anything.” you said. He had been more than willing to help you, so you were more than willing to do the same.

“Stand on that little circle over there for me.” He pointed to a large purple circle in the middle of the room and you tilted your head, but still walked over to it with no hesitation.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“I'm gonna scan you, but don't be scared. This bad boy will help you get home safe.”

You went to speak up, telling him that you weren’t so sure it was a good idea, but he interrupted you.

“Wade, help me out here! Let’s get her out of here.”

“Finally.” Wade scoffed. He walked over to you and held your arms up, strapping them to two mechanical devices on either side of you that then held your arms to make you in the shape of a Y.

“This won't hurt a bit, doll.” Spike said, clicking a button on his computer. A bright light scanned you up and down and you looked at Spike, who held his chin and tilted his head. “Huh. That’s weird. Let me try again.” He clicked the button again and looked at you with confusion. When the cycle finished, he looked astonished. “Babe, where did you say you were from again?”

“That’s what I’ve been meaning to tell you.” you said, shuffling in your spot. “My world was a big glitching mess. And then I found a little hole and appeared here. I don't know if I have a home anymore.”

Wade sighed and rubbed his hand down his face. “Great,” he whispered. “This can't be good.”

Spike leaned back in his chair and looked at the confusion on your face. “This isn’t your fault, love. But bad news, you can't go home. Because uh… I don't think home exists for you.”

All you remember after that was crying. You sat on the floor after the devices let you go and Spike rubbed your back, reassuring you that everything was going to be okay.

Of course, you knew that everything wasn’t going to be okay.

You were already exhausted and you realized it hadn’t even been a day.

“So, what am I supposed to do?” you asked, playing with the watch you were given.

“I would be more than happy to let you stay here,” Spike said, rubbing your back. “We have an extra room, we just have to clean it out a bit.”

“I don't want to be a burden.”

“It’ll just be for a little while,” he reassured you. “Now, I know this cyberpunk city of ours can seem like a lot once you step out of this little shop, but I think after a little bit of time, you can find a job and even your own home.”

You just nodded. You didn't have a clue what the word “cyberpunk” meant, but it sounded interesting enough. After realizing that you were still on the floor, you finally stood up and looked around the little place you were in. There were light up trinkets and soft beeps coming from either side of the room. It was so overwhelming. At home you were able to just sit on a couch and watch TV and in here, it looked like the only place you could rest was a chair that could roll across the floor.

To get your bearings wherever you were, you opened the front door and were immediately overstimulated. There were loud sirens, people yelling, doors slamming, advertisements that were yelling about various products, etc.

You quickly shut the door behind you and Wade laughed at the expression on your face.

“What’s so funny?” you scoffed.

He just waved you off and Spike walked over to you. “Wade and I know exactly how you feel. We were just as overwhelmed when we ended up here.”

“You’re not from here?”

“Nope! So, don't worry, your reaction and overwhelmingness is completely normal. Do you want something to eat?”

You hadn't even thought about food, but when asked the question, noticed how hungry you really were. “Yes please.” you said softly.

Spike walked down a long hall and you followed, not wanting to be left alone with Wade.

“So what was your home like?” he asked.

“Normal.” you laughed. You really didn't know how to answer that question.

He laughed back. “Not like this at all, I'm guessing.”

“Not at all.”

“See, ours was kind of like this,” Spike said as you got to the kitchen. “It was very techy, so we immediately knew what to do when we started ‘glitching’ if that’s what you wanna call it. We also know how to travel interdimensionally. That's how we ended up here. We traveled outside of our home and never found a way to get back. That machine couldn’t even tell us. I think what happened to your home also happened to ours while we were gone.”

“That sounds awful.”

Spike laughed. “Yeah, definitely awful. We’ve traveled everywhere, it feels like, but we just never found home. This was almost the closest to it. It looks like home in the future.”

“That makes sense.” It didn't, but it did. You didn't know how else to share your sympathy with him, especially considering the whole thing felt like an awful dream that you would never wake up from.

“What are you gonna do?” he asked you as he slid over your plate.

“No clue,” you admitted. “Maybe it’s delusional, but I want to find my family.”

“You found a way out. So maybe they did too.”

Just those few words from Spike’s mouth gave you hope. Perhaps too much.

—

Learning new things is really difficult, but you found yourself learning how to travel through space and time to be a piece of cake, to your surprise.

That hope that Spike had engraved in you when you first met years ago was still stuck in you and would always be until you found your family.

Even if you had to search until the day you died, you would be satisfied.

The craziest part of the whole thing though was that you became someone completely different over the years. You found yourself learning how to make your own tech to make interdimensionally traveling easier and buying clothes that made you look much different than you did back at home.

But you were lonely.

You met so many lovely people on your journey through this new life you created for yourself over the years, but none of them would stay like Miguel did. You even eventually drifted from Spike and Wade, getting your own house and having your own machines.

You would curl up and eat dinner by yourself on the balcony, dreaming to be in Miguel’s arms and listen to him hum a song to you in his deep voice.

—

“Hey, Miguel.” Lyla said, blowing on her nails she recently painted. “Whatcha doin?”

Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed. “Working. What does it look like I'm doing?”

“It looks like you're pouting. Not working. Nice try, but you can't fool me, buddy.” Lyla smirked.

“I'm not pouting! Why would I be pouting, Lyla? Hm? Now could you please leave me alone? You’re ruining my train of thought.”

“Now that’s just mean.” Lyla pouted.

Miguel blew a piece of his hair out of his eye and tried to sweep her away, which ended up making her leave with a giggle.

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before turning back on his monitor to see your face.

“Miguel!” you giggled. “Smile for the camera.” You turned the camera to a happier Miguel. Someone who actually had a smile on his face.

A stranger.

Miguel quickly shut the monitor off before he would let himself be brought to tears. It was his fault you were gone. It was his fault he was in his current position. If he didn't fuck everything up and pretend he was your husband, none of this would’ve happened.

“Lyla, I'm going out.”

“Huh? Where?” She appeared with a digital Slurpee and tilted her head.

“Just out.”

“Bored outta your mind, big boss man.”

“Sure, whatever, just leave me alone.”

Lyla saluted and faded away. He didn't know where to go, but he would just go. With the power of the entire multiverse at his hands, it was hard to just find one place to go, but even so, it was nice to breathe some fresh air in other places.

Plus with the chance of seeing you…

He pulled the thought out of his mind. He watched his daughter fade away in his arms, there was no way that you were okay too. And god, did he hate himself for it. But even so, he repressed the feelings and journeyed to other universes, meeting other Spidermen and even greater foes – eyebags and all.

—

Where the hell am I? you thought as you ended up in a dimension unlike any you had been to before. It was so different from the others that for the first time in years, you actually had to pause.

You placed your hands on your hips and looked at the world around you. It reminded you of playing video games where you would go to other worlds and you yourself would change textures to match the ones around you. Unfortunately, the texture didn't go with you, so you were left as an actual human in a cartoon world.

The life you were living was definitely a dreamlike state and the thought of it made you laugh as you led yourself through the city.

This was the part you actually loved. You got to see what life was like for others through different dimensions and the struggles they had to deal with. Granted, it wasn't much different from your life when you weren’t forced to live like this, but either way, you still found it fun to see how different, yet similar it really was.

Sometimes you would end up in dimensions you had been to a thousand times or sometimes you would end up somewhere new.

Your favorite part though: everywhere had a Spiderman. And every Spiderman was just as unique as the last.

In this world, it seemed to be some pig, which was both hilarious and intriguing. You had seen a lot in your day, but never a pig Spiderman. You loved it though and seeing posters of him around this odd city made you laugh.

But you knew it was time to leave the moment you stepped in. You liked the crazy stuff, but this was a little too crazy for your liking.

Right as you opened a portal though, you heard a loud sound not too far away from you. You figured it was a fight that Spiderpig had gotten himself into, and were ready to leave, but you turned around to see something much crazier.

Not only was Spiderpig fighting, but there was another Spiderman with him. You couldn't help but stand in awe after you closed the portal you made.

He was dressed in dark blue and red and didn't look at all like the other Spidermen you had seen before. Something about him was not only different, but so so intriguing.

The fight didn't last long since the two were working hard to get it done quickly. So when they did finish, the tall Spiderman put Spiderpig on his shoulders and gave him a fistbump.

You had only noticed you were still just standing in the street and staring when the Spiderman froze.

You giggled nervously and muttered out a quick “good job guys” before turning down an alleyway so you could teleport out of there.

But right as you began down the alley, you felt something grab your wrist. When you turned around, it was that tall Spiderman, who tilted his head at you.

“y/n?” he said.

You took a step back. “S-Sorry?”

“Is your name y/n?”

You nodded and he pulled you into his arms before opening a portal very much like your own.

You ended up in a world with complete darkness, minus the bright yellow computers surrounding the walls. You looked at the place with curiosity, but were quickly pulled from your thoughts when you saw the Spiderman pacing the room back and forth and muttering to himself.

“Hey, are you alright?” you chuckled.

“How are you… How did you… Hold on, I need a minute.” He finally sat down and grabbed his chin. “Were you married?”

You laughed, thinking this was some sort of joke. “Yes, I was. To a man named Miguel. Why?”

“What the fuck?” he said under his breath.

“Excuse me?”

“How are you alive?!”

Just then, you recognized that voice. Everything from your past hit you like a semi and you fell to your knees, tears immediately filling your sockets.

“M-Miguel? Miguel, is that you?” you managed to get out.

The mask of his Spider-suit dematerialized and he looked at you with shock.

You looked at him the same and felt like you couldn't breathe. After all those years. After all that searching…

He ran to you and dropped on his knees, pushing your hair out of your face. “How did you…”

“How did you?” you giggled somehow, grabbing Miguel’s face and looking it over. Despite the eyebags and the new muscular features, that man was definitely your husband.

“I…” he started, but you pulled him into your arms. You hugged him until neither of you could breathe.

When you pulled away, you looked at him with so much excitement that it made him regret everything. He had lied to you for years and you were looking at him the same way you looked at your real husband who died.

“I can't believe you made it out alive, Miggy! Where’s Gabriella? I bet she’s all grown up and–”

“G-Gabriella’s gone.” The words felt like another 100 lbs weighed his chest down.

You looked at him with confusion. “She didn't make it?” you asked softly.

“No. She didn't. This is all my fault.” he buried his face in his hands.

“No it's not. How could any of this be your fault?” you rubbed his back.

“No, y/n,” he scooted back, every regret from his life filling him up and making him on the near edge of a panic attack. “This is my fault. I made this happen.”

“Miguel, I–”

“I'm not even your husband!” he cried out. He never felt like this before. He didn't even feel like Miguel. But something cracked in him when he saw you, and it was going to end up killing him if he didn't talk to you about it.

You laughed. “What? Of course you are.”

“Your husband died a very long time ago.”

“I'm so confused.” you admitted.

“I know. And I'm sorry.” he pulled you closer and sat down on the floor next to you. “Look, I was your husband. At least for a while. A couple months maybe. But your real husband… the Miguel O’Hara from your world… he died. I took his place. I wanted to be happy.” Slowly, the feeling of the near panic attack was going away the more he spoke to you. He explained everything. About how much he truly loved you and about how much he regretted destroying everything, including your daughter. He told you that he was selfish for what he did and admitted that if he could go back and never be with you just so you could have a fulfilled life with Gabriella and no Miguel, everything would be fine. He explained canon events and how the world worked for Spidermen like him and the rest of the multiverse.

Everything was so confusing, but based on everything you had been through, you weren't surprised.

You had seemingly loved a stranger for months and didn't even know it. But… he wasn't, that was the most confusing part. That man, Miguel O’Hara. Spiderman 2099. That was the man you fell in love with, even if you weren't a part of his dimension.

The whole situation shocked you to your core, but there was no going back now.

You laughed for some reason when he was done telling you everything. You really couldn't believe it. But again, you weren't surprised.

Miguel didn't mean to spill everything onto you, but it made him feel so much better. Tears were streaming down his face and he was trying to repress them when he saw how confused you looked.

“y/n, I am so sorr–”

You quickly cut him off by pulling him into your arms. Real husband or not, this poor man had to suffer through everything and now has the whole multiverse on his back to take care of because he feels like it’s his responsibility. He blamed himself for everything for years all because of a stupid accident.

But you weren't mad. He didn't know what would happen and all he wanted was to be happy. You didn't want to put more on him, so you just held him for a moment and let him sit there with you in silence.

Even if you didn't know this Miguel as well as you knew your husband, he was still Miguel.

“Don't blame yourself,” you whispered. “It's okay.”

He just pulled back from the hug and wiped his hair out of his face. “I'm sorry you had to live like you have been.” he told you.

“It was kinda fun.” You hugged your knees.

“The multiverse is definitely something, huh?”

You smiled and cupped Miguel’s face in your hands. You had been traveling for years all for this. Granted, you got a story out of it that you weren't expecting, but still. Miguel was in front of you again and you felt strangely at home.

You pressed a kiss to his nose. “I wanna try this again.” you said. “With us.”

“What do you mean?”

“First.” You pulled him by the front of his suit and pressed a long and needed kiss to his lips. He melted to your lips quickly, but the feeling ended quickly when you pulled away.

“What do you mean ‘try again?’ ” he asked.

“I'm y/n.” You stuck out your hand and smiled at him.

“I'm Miguel.” He took your hand and sighed with relief.

“Nice to meet you, Miguel. Maybe we should go on a date sometime.”

~~~~~

into the spiderverse masterlist | pinned post 2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for March 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Why Don’t We Start Writing The Story Of Us by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [T, 6k, Louis/Harry]

Immediately after the words left his mouth, Louis wanted to face palm himself. Nerves always brought out joking as a deflection technique, it was almost an instinct.

Harry only looked up long enough to reply with a flat, “no,” before turning back to his book.

“Alright,” Louis said, rocking forward on the balls of his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll, uh… leave you to it.”

OR Alpha Louis and Omega Harry get off on the wrong foot, Louis has the worst timing, and Harry believes in second chances. Three times Louis asks Harry on a date and the one time Harry accepts

＊ The Room Thief by @2tiedships2 [NR, 12k, Harry/Louis]

Louis: Can I come over? Need your help.

Niall: Did someone die? I don’t need to help you bury a body do I? Wait, did you behead one of your alpha flatmates? I hope it was the one that smells like cherries. That is such a weird scent for an alpha. It’s disturbing. And I can’t even smell it.

Louis: I’ve just been kicked out. Can I crash on your couch?

Niall: Zayn’s in class. I’m here so get over here NOW.

Louis: Thanks mate. Gonna pack a few things and will head over. Be there in about a half hour.

When Louis comes home and is confronted by his knothead alpha flatmates, he knows it won’t result in anything good, but he didn’t expect to be left homeless, effective immediately. He definitely didn’t expect to fall for the specific knothead who stole his room.

＊ Half Agony, Half Hope by asphodelknox / @iamasphodelknox [E, 33k+, wip, Louis/Harry]

Harry had never believed the rumors of the beast at the manor on the hill. They sounded like something from Twilight or an old Hollywood horror film, a beautiful man who turned into a beast once a month and killed anyone who was unlucky enough to be stuck on the manor’s grounds.

Yeah, right. The manor was probably just creepy and old. Besides, it’s not like he had anything else to do.

Harry's had enough of his shit year. Had enough of his shit ex and the fact that he graduated from university with no idea what to do next or what to do with the grief. Ed dares him to spend a month at the crumbling Tomlinson manor, and Harry goes cause what else do you do when your life's fallen apart?

It's not really haunted anyway... is it?

＊ when the time is right by refusethyname / @refusethyname28 [E, 146k, Harry/Louis]

“Do you live in the cabin by yourself?” Louis then decided to ask.

“I do, well sort of, I have a cat.”

“A cat?” Louis then asked and Harry nodded happily.

“She’s a precious thing, but she always leaves me for this one customer who is staying at one of the cabins. His name is Tomlin-something, I can’t really recall,” Harry said, causing Louis to chuckle this time. The singer shook his head at Harry’s comment and smiled brightly at him. Harry was truly something else and Louis’ heart fluttered.

“He sounds like an absolute arse if he steals your cat,” Louis chuckled and Harry shook his head at that.

“On the contrary, he is extremely thoughtful, didn’t even mind it too much when I spilled my hot tea over him, how is your stomach by the way?” Harry then asked.

“If this is your way of trying to get me to undress again,” Louis joked and Harry’s cheeks grew bright red. The younger man started stammering some incoherent things and quickly averted his gaze, which Louis thought was absolutely adorable.

Or the cabin fic where falling in love underneath the northern lights only leads to heartbreak.

＊ I Found the Earth (Not Leaving Now) by mmaree / @zqua1d [M, 34k, Zayn/Liam]

Liam watches the ball of light as it traces the sky then starts to dip below the tree-line. It’s larger than any shooting star he has ever seen before.

He makes a wish.

Alien Zayn + Human Liam | A love story inspired by the song “If I Got You”

＊ Your hand in my hand, so still and discreet by flamboyo / @riverswater [E, 4k, Louis/Harry]

“It was about how cold he was under me. How still. It was knowing that even if he had died, even if he was already dead, he would still be mine.”

Louis thought he knew each one of his boyfriend’s stories, secrets, and kinks. Turns out Harry was keeping a crucial one hidden away.

＊ Scared That My Worst is the Best That I’ve Got by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [M, 5k, Harry/Louis]

So while Louis’ proposition is preposterous, it’s also the only compromise his brain seems willing to make at the moment.

Harry slowly raises his head to look at Louis. He’s standing on the other side of the kitchen, elbow resting casually on the edge of the counter next to the sink. His expression is soft and patient, and there’s delicate morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows behind him, setting his outlined silhouette aglow. He looks like an angel.

An angel in an old oversized adidas jumper with tattoos on his knuckles, but an angel all the same.

Harry’s voice comes out mumbled and much smaller than he’d like, but it is what it is. As Louis always says.

“Just shampoo?”

(Or five times Louis saves Harry from himself, and one time when Louis is the one that needs the saving).

＊ I’ll tell you something (I hope you’ll understand) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [E, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Louis insists that Harry stay off her phone and in the safety of Louis' room rather than risk moping in her own texting her ex-boyfriend. When Harry agrees on one condition, Louis' safe night in could become something else entirely.

＊ sunshine, baby! by staybeautiful / @harruandlou [E, 106k, Harry/Louis]

Louis was the first one down the row for their group. If he hadn’t been they would have never met.

He was turned around, walking backwards and saying to Liam, “No, I’ll get you to a real footie match next,” when he bumped into someone.

“Oops,” Louis laughed, tripping over his own feet. A hand curled around his upper arm as he nearly fell over the seat in front of him. “Sorry about that, mate.”

He turned around, still teetering in his vans, to apologize again, but the words dried in his throat. Another hand gripped his other elbow, steadying him, but all Louis could see were green eyes and dimples.

“Hi,” the man laughed, a bright, bubbling sound. “Are you okay?”

Or Louis is in his first year of law school, Harry is a junior on the swim team dreaming of the Olympics, and they both agree that they don't have time for anything more than friends with benefits... right?

- Podfics -

＊ Truth or Drink by @kingsofeverything read by @podfic-pals [M, 6k, Louis/Harry]

Truth or Drink | Exes

Harry and Louis broke up years ago, and they're seeing each other again for the first time to play Truth or Drink. On camera.

[fellthemarvelous]

Aziraphale my love

Please enjoy my WHOLE ASS OPINION AND META ANALYSIS.

I support Petty Bitch Aziraphale for season 3!! The angels have been talking down to him from the very beginning and mocking him. Every single person in his life has insulted his intelligence (yes, Crowley has done so several times). I want to see him GO OFF!!! (I posted this part as a tweet but Twitter doesn't give me enough room to write it all in one big place like Tumblr).

Like I am ready to GO THE FUCK OFF myself!

All of Heaven has been emotionally, verbally and physically abusive to Aziraphale since the very beginning. They never listen to him, and the only one he ever really wants to talk to anyway is God, but she is nowhere to be found.

Gabriel came to Aziraphale because he experienced something that Aziraphale is very familiar with. He couldn't remember why he was going to Aziraphale, but hiding away his memory in a fly ended up being just as much for Aziraphale's protection as his own. It ended up being the only way he could actually explain to Aziraphale and Crowley what was really going on.

Aziraphale was there to witness Gabriel's open expression of love for a demon and it lit a fire in his heart. He and Crowley could be together.

Aziraphale wanted Crowley to be by his side in Heaven so he could stand in front of all the angels and tell them how much he loves Crowley so they can see that there is more to life than death for humans.

Aziraphale thought taking Crowley with him meant he could continue to protect Crowley from ever going back to Hell. It's not like he's forgotten how Crowley was acting after being dragged down into Hell for saving the life of a human and persuading her to be not just pretend-y good but actually good. Aziraphale giving her the money was the temptation to always be a good person. They saved her soul together, Crowley with the angelic act, and Aziraphale's act was the temptation. They were so used to doing each other's jobs by this point that they switched roles in that scene.

Despite their last fight, Crowley came back and saved him from the Nazis in the church, and Aziraphale had that moment of realization. "Oh my God, I'm in love with my demon." Crowley wasn't interested in the holy water when he saved Aziraphale, and he saved Aziraphale's books. They also killed three Nazis in the process, which is the most romantic part of it all. The Nazis were a source of evil for Hell, so you know Hell told him to keep an eye on the Nazis. Hell was full of Nazis! We saw Furfur complain about processing 52 men called Otto. It's not normal for that to happen in Hell, and it's really starting to piss Furfur off!!

Aziraphale and Crowley working together in 1941 is the first time we see someone in Hell say WE ARE FULL GO AWAY. Hell turned some of the worst of the worst against humanity by turning them into flesh-eating zombies. "The dead shall rise from their graves and roam the Earth once more." Furfur was the first one to set Hell's prisoners free, and in true demon style, his plan backfired against him, but he'd already set the ball rolling on the Second Coming.

The man who owned the magic shop did not want to sell the Bullet Catch to Aziraphale because he could tell right away that Aziraphale was in desperate need of help as he'd just knocked down half the things on the front counter and he would absolutely die just like that Lovely Chinese Fellow (and that seems like a pretty relevant clue). The shopkeeper only sold it to Aziraphale after Crowley handed him money from Aziraphale's wallet (Aziraphale didn't even try to stop him) and used it to tempt the shopkeeper into going against his instincts.

And in true demon fashion, that immediately backfired because it was only then did he realize Aziraphale was going to need a partner, and he was the only one who could do it. I don't think either of them were thinking about what the trick actually entailed. Aziraphale just saw a gun and was like LET'S DO THIS!

They survived the Bullet Catch in a very human way. They couldn't perform miracles and had very human reactions to the situation, but Aziraphale trusted Crowley with that gun pointed at his head.

And when Aziraphale used a human magic trick to save Crowley from being taken back to Hell by Furfur, he proved that he was willing to go to great lengths to keep Crowley safe even though Crowley was a demon.

This entire time he has been trying to give Crowley a place to call home. He painted the walls of the bookshop yellow because they are the same color as Crowley's eyes, which are also the least human thing about him. He has written about him in his journals and he's openly affectionate with Crowley. He always gives Crowley gentle touches and praises him. He loves Crowley and he's showing him in the most human way he knows how.

And when Crowley is losing Aziraphale, he shows Aziraphale his love in the most human way he can think of.

Heaven and Hell have invaded Whickber Street and put the lives of all the humans at risk. The problem is worse than he thought, and he's going back to try and fix it so that Heaven will actually try to be good for once. Not just pretend-y good, but properly good. Everyone is in danger, and I think when the Metatron mentions the Second Coming, Aziraphale completes the puzzle he's been trying to put together since hearing Jim singing a human song. It makes him understand what Gabriel was running away from, and he's the one who gave Gabriel the freedom to run away with Beelzebub.

And the Metatron is not pleased. Aziraphale introduced free will to demons and angels just as Crowley had introduced free will to humanity.

Aziraphale wants to help spread the idea of love and free will around Heaven so it can be better. He's doing something he believes is right with all his heart. He's been on Earth for more than 6,000 years. He remembers the lessons he learned. He knows shades of grey exist and he wants to use this to make Heaven a better place.

But the other archangels have never respected him, and now he's the Supreme Archangel. He has a chance to make things better, and he has done Crowley's job before. He wants to talk to God. He wants to know what it is she wants. He's tired of hearing everyone else speak for God when no one has spoken to God in thousands of years.

And when he told Crowley his idea, Crowley became angry with him and called him an idiot. What he was saying was not what Crowley was hearing because Crowley was trying to confess his love while Aziraphale was trying to tell Crowley his plan to save everyone.

He only wanted to go back to Heaven when he believed he would be able to take Crowley with him, and he thought reinstating Crowley as an angel was the safest way to keep him from ever having to return to Hell.

None of Aziraphale's actions were malicious. None of his actions were to hurt Crowley. He didn't realize how bad his words sounded because he was saying something completely different than what Crowley was hearing.

All of it was a big misunderstanding. If Aziraphale had not taken the coffee from the Metatron, he would have been choosing death. The Metatron is punishing him for going against Heaven by forcing him to go back. Aziraphale only believed it was a choice when he was told he could bring back Crowley.

Aziraphale had the illusion of choice. He knew the Metatron wasn't taking no for an answer, and when Crowley rejected his offer, he still had to go back anyway. When he looked back at Crowley before stepping on that elevator, he knew he was breaking Crowley's heart by not going back to him, but he had no choice. It broke his heart too.

So now he's stuck in Heaven after having the worst fight with Crowley. He probably feels like no one believes in him. Crowley had called him an idiot and then Crowley kissed him. He's confused because he doesn't understand why Crowley is upset with him, but he's probably tired of everyone underestimating him.

Let Aziraphale be done with this shit. Let him be petty about it. He's not holding back anymore. I want him to push back just as hard and stand up for himself. He has earned the right.

[hannahssimblr]

The trains roll along the tracks behind Michelle’s house in succession, one after another, iron wheels on iron tracks. They usually can’t be heard inside the house, but in the garden the sound of them mingles with the rustling of new leaves in the trees, the faint buzz of midges congregating beneath the canopies and catching the light just so, little glowing specs that almost remind me of fireflies.

It’s a day wasted indoors, that’s what Debra said before hauling a basket load of damp washing out onto the lawn, and that’s where she is now, pegging up bed linens as she keeps one paranoid eye upon the barbeque.

Michelle is cooking, prodding and turning the chicken skewers a bit too soon, but it doesn’t matter, because Debra insisted she would take them inside and put them in the oven afterwards anyway. She's got this fear that we’ll all go home with salmonella poisoning and waste precious exam study time being violently ill. 

Jen is nervous. The barbeque was her idea, a way for her to get closer to the girl she wants to ask to the debs without it seeming obvious about her intentions, so she’s hauled Michelle and I along to sit in and make conversation under the strict orders that if things go well then we should make an excuse and then conveniently disappear. 

I don’t know Hazel well from school, we were never in any classes together but I know vaguely that she’s the girl with that lanky skeleton man pattern all over her school bag. She is tiny with hair the colour of straw and eyes, big wide and pale blue, an intense, unblinking gaze about them as though she knows how and when you will die. 

When she appears in the garden twenty minutes late, smiling serenely with a kitten in her hand, we all pause. 

“Hello,” I say. To her or the kitten I’m not completely sure. 

“Hi, am I late?”

“No, not at all, um!” Jen gets up from the patio table and rushes to give her a side hug, being careful not to squash the kitten in the process. She scratches its tiny head with her fingernail and it purrs. “Who is this?”

“Goose,” Hazel explains, “I found him under a car in the housing estate last week and I’ve been nursing him back to health. He was so hungry, gosh.”

“He’s cute,” Jen pets him again and he strokes his downy grey fur against her fingers, his eyes closed in bliss, causing an explosion of protective adoration inside me for this little creature. It’s possible I've never seen something so cute. 

“Do you want to hold him?” Hazel asks me, and I nod, holding out my hands as she deposits the little warm ball into my hands. Such a small, fragile, trembling ball of energy he is, I've never been so keenly aware of my size, my hands are practically the length of him save for his slinky tail, pointed straight out as I nestle him in the crook of my arm. Goose mews at me, mouth clean open, four sharp teeth and dove grey eyes that look in two different directions. He’s got a weird face, like he doesn’t know he exists or where he is.  

“He’s sweet, isn’t he?” says Hazel at my shoulder.

“Yeah he’s a cool little guy. Do you think he was abandoned?”

“I don’t know, perhaps he ran away,” she reaches for him and he clambers up her sleeve, where she grabs him before he can start clawing at her hair, “he’s skittish. He doesn’t like to be alone, yet paradoxically he’s always trying to escape.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, he yearns for life on the streets,” she sighs and says to Jen, “I hope it’s okay that he’s come along, he would just be so unhappy at home.”

“No, of course! Oh my God,” Jen says with a big, dippy smile. “You can bring whatever, like, whoever you want over. We can keep him inside though if that’s better?” She’s touching her hair and smiling a lot, something I make a mental note of so that I can torture her about it later.

“I think if he’s there in the dining room and he can see me through the window he’ll be comfortable,” Hazel agrees, “I think he prefers to feel included.”

I don’t know if Goose has even a remote concept of what he does and does not prefer, but she and Jen head inside to lay some newspapers on the floor and fill a little bowl from the kitchen with water for him anyway, laying them right by the door so that he has the best view of the garden. I’m transfixed by him in there as they set things up, weaving himself between Hazel’s ankles, pushing his fuzzy cheek into the smooth leather of her Dr. Martin boot, and I grin as his claw catches in her lace, which sends him frantically swatting his paw to free it. 

“It’s so cute how much you love cats,” Michelle comments as she slaps a raw burger over the coals, “I would have never thought you were a cat person if I hadn’t witnessed it myself.”

“Well look at him! He’s just cool.”

“It’s not just him, it’s all those cats along your street! I just think it’s so funny whenever you step out of the house and they just emerge from somewhere.”

“They know they’ll get pets from me.”

“Yeah, and food.”

“Occasionally.”

She smiles over her shoulder, “Maybe when we move in together we should look for a flat that accepts pets. Then we can get a cat of our own.”

“Mm. It’s a big commitment, a cat, though, isn’t it?”

“No, we would just feed it and clean out the litter box. It’d be very easy.”

“Yeah, I dunno.”

“What don’t you know?”

“I’d have to think about it.”

“Oh, okay.”

Debra finishes hanging the washing and quickly slips back inside through the conservatory door. 

I listen to the sounds of the garden instead of talking. A lawnmower drones somewhere across the suburban fences and there is the aroma of something sweet, heady and floral under my nose each time the breeze comes. When it’s still it smells like charred meat and smoke, which is welcome because the afternoon is getting on and I haven’t eaten since before dropping Ivy off at her friend’s house at ten. 

“Are you mad at me?” Michelle says. 

“No. I’m just hungry.” 

“Right.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[darkwitchingflower]

ITS BEEN A WHILE but here's things me and my friends have said as pjo character pt 4/5???

Annabeth: That's not very feminism of you (@wraith--2)

Hestia: maybe build like a life size bread bloke (@carpcranium)

Leo: Feels like my toes are bleeding but it's just cause they're defrosting (@wraith--2)

Percy to annabeth: Nooo pookie don't leave ill get her a spider abortion (friend not on tumblr)

Annabeth: I thought I'd die before seeing common sense in this gc (friend not on tumblr)

Jason: It's not boring to want money and to not be even more mentally ill (@indecisivenb)

Leo: Sure bud (me)

Piper: Jesus was not straight (@wraith--2)

Some random camper in the dining pavillion: Hes staring into my soup (@wraith--2)

Leo: Everyone needs a piece of Leo (friend not on gc)

Leo: Me dehydrated: must not drink sex juice (@wraith--2)

Jason: Me and Percy cockfight like 3 times (@chefchennan)

Piper: Harry x hermione

Ron x jesus or smth

Luna x whoever tf she ended with? (Friend not on tumblr)

Mr D to someone being given a quest: You don't have a choice

They don't have a choice

It's equality all around (me)

Piper: Im not a people pleaser, im a woman pleaser (friend not on tumblr)

Jason (idk why but i instantly thought Jason): saggy balls? (@chefchennan)

Thalia: From your local asexual xx (@wraith--2)

Thalia: Homicide on Pinterest is an interest (@wraith--2)

Chiron: oh that's nice to see! A camper with a smile! (My criminology teacher)

Annabeth: ye I made percy smile by telling him I didn't like him in greek! (Friend not on tumblr)

Apollo: Will! Thoughts on be crime do gay?! (@carpcranium)

Thalia about Frank: Me and him are still friends we shoot kids together yesterday (@chefchennan)

Will doing some form of doctor test idk: I'm gonna skedaddle into your scrotum (@wraith--2)

Thalia: I f**king love garlic bread yummers. Its gotten so bad that I eat is everyday. I sweat garlic butter and shit out logs of bread. It's an endless cycle and I remake the garlic break with what I unleash (friend not on tumblr)

Percy to Annabeth (leo helped after frank found them in the stables): Thine eyes are blessed with the sight of her. Her.

Who I wake to every morning and think of

Who I dream of at night

Aphrodite has forsaken me yet she is my light

The waves will roar and crash

And I know, she is always up for a smash (@wraith--2)

Leo to literally any girl with a pulse: When I see her thoughts are gone

And all I can do is simply long

She could never be mine

Yet still I pine (@wraith--2)

Rachel thinking abiut percy: Days will pass and the sun shall set

All the while I'd place a bet

That I'm still there

Twirling my hair

Dreaming of something that was never fair (@wraith--2)

Thalia: is is the most fun I've had in ages, I'm trying to teach the bot aromanticisum (@wraith--2)

Thalia: As a matter of fact I am definitely aromantic but thanks for the suggestion (@wraith--2)

Leo, he meant to say floppy disks: Have you ever seen one of those floppy dicks-...🤏 (friend not in tumblr)

Mr D: Anyways orgies (@wraith--2)

Will to Nico: She's like nah, no love hearts have an onion were like Shrek now (me)

Percy: When I go to sleep I'm going to dream about gay sea creatures aren't I? (@wraith--2)

Annabeth: It's okay I'm a big girl I cry into my pillow (@wraith--2)

Annabeth: ohhh right in the trust issues (@thatonelazyghost)

[kerubimcrepin]

Crepinlore and the 30-50 random games 90% of fandom has never heard about

This post, like everything else about this blog, is very self-indulgent. I discovered many things during its making, and I simply can't not share. So, let's begin with something you likely have literally never heard about, and go to more popular things from there:

KROSMASTER ARENA 3D

Krosmaster arena online was a video game it seems nobody played, and honestly, I am mentioning it here because I fear that if I don't document it, it will disappear, and it will turn out that it was simply a vision I had, as if in a David Lynch movie. Evaporating, like tears in rain.

I don't think anyone ripped/tried to rip/found a way to rip the models from it — and considering the fact they're pretty... mobile ad-core, not much may have been lost.

Anyway, here's Keke beating the shit out of some guy.

Wakfu Les Gardiens

Joris appears in the quest "The Tree of Life" of this game, which, as far as I'm aware, was updated in time with Wakfu episodes.

Even back then, Ankama knew that 1. Joris is very sus and 2. you cannot let him get close to you during a battle, or it's OVER.

It's all very cute.

There is something interesting I wanna say about this sprite, actually:

An alternate version of it exists, made as a concept for the Dofus MMO. I am assuming it was Juien Druant elaborating on the ways Joris might look in the game. The first two designs are: baby Joris (probably not used because he looks too young to be a 200 year old man...) and Welsh & Shedar 60yo Joris. They were combined to make the iconic Dofus MMO-era 200yo Joris design.

I'm quite sure that this sprite references the Les Gardiens one very heavily.

One More Gate: A Wakfu Legend

The first game in this list that actually has implications for real lore, and yet its plot is literally "it was all a dream that Oropo was having while inside the Eliacube"

For this reason, the events of this game are not entirely reliable — but are probably based in some way on the memories Oropo has.

The main contribution this game has to Crepinlore is a third Crepin, who might be an ancient ancestor of the brothers, whom Oropo met and remembered, some sort of cousin, or he might be based entirely on fiction, and inspired by Kerubim (though ehhh I severely doubt Oropo would care so much about him that he'd hallucinate a guy like him within Eliacube's fake world).

I really want to headcanon that the events of the game are based on something he really experienced, waaay before forming the brotherhood. But that's just my brain disaeses.

Here we can see the store itself.

Krosmaga

I saved the best for the last — Krosmaga.

A video of the casts of Dofus and Wakfu beating the shit out of each other

There are characters besides Atcham, Joris, and Kerubim in this game — Julith, Jahash, Lou... But I choose to concentrate on my favorite three ones. Or I will die fr.

If this Ecaflip gives the impression of constantly having a bad hair day, it's precisely because he doesn't have any! Brother of Kerubim Crépin, Atcham is fiercely jealous of the man he considers his worst enemy. And how could he not be, when not only does he occupy the prestigious position of Ecaflip's favorite son, but also displays his dense, silky fur without any modesty or sensitivity?

Here are his three forms:

I'm.,. unwell about the white one. I have to draw Atcham in a Bontarian getup one of these days.

They're really giving a fight to this Joris costume recolor from a Christmas event in one of the MMOs... (Now I want to see Kerubim in red too!)

On topic of Joris,

Adopted son of Kerubim Crépin, Joris is a curious and mischievous little boy. His favorite pastime is listening to the childhood adventures of his beloved "Papycha". And when he's too busy serving customers in his antique store, he's off playing with his best friend Lilotte! An avid boufbowl player and fan of Khan Karkass, Joris also hopes to become a star of the horned ball. While his destiny may already be mapped out on the stadium pitch, his origins are much less clear… But the good thing about not knowing where you come from is that you can imagine anything! For the little boy, there's no doubt: his parents were great boufbowl players, and it doesn't matter if it's true or not!

Here are his alternative forms:

I LOVE THE WAY HIS ADULT SELF IS DRAWN IN THIS GAME... I'm insane.

And now, last but not least: Kerubim.

Judging by his adventures, Kerubim seems to have had more than 9 lives! From small-time opera rat, to Bontarian police officer, to lawyer: the least we can say is that during his youth, the man Joris calls his Papycha never stopped working! So much so that today, the owner of the antique store Aux Trésors de Kerubim takes advantage of his free time to purr quietly in his armchair, or to tell his adopted son about his past adventures. Past? Well, not quite! Because when the terrible witch Julith arrives to retrieve Jahash's Ivory Dofus, and seems intent on attacking Joris, the old tomcat doesn't hesitate to get in her way. With Kerubim, there's no age limit to being a hero!

Once again, it is confirmed that the store's name s literally "Aux Trésors de Kerubim". Sorry, I'm insane about the name of the show being the name of the store.

And his alternative forms:

He's beautiful.

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 56

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Shiro's Skunk Hair Steals Lance's Boyfriend by @bleusarcellewrites

Lance nods, eyes scanning Keith’s face slowly, “I gotta ask, though, do you come here often?” Keith snorts, fondness for this dumbass making his heart to beat faster. “Charming as always, I see.” “I can show you ‘charming’.” Lance says, eyebrows wiggling in a suggestive manner and while the others groan behind them at the line, Keith just smiles. “But before that, I’m a man of honor and I gotta know: are you single?” Keith blinks at the question and suddenly he's laughing. [Or the one where Lance can't hold his alchohol and Keith gives up a Cuddle Night of his boyfriend to be flirted by said boyfriend just for his boyfriend to forget he was already his boyfriend. It's a mess but Keith wouldn't want it any other way.]

yall remember bleusarcelle...remember 2018.....crazy times. anyway. this fic is fun and sweet and dorky, nice to read when you want to forget how bad vld dropped the ball and ruined everything :))

2. Your Love Keeps Me Warm by crystalklances

Keith is giving him a look, contemplating, eyebrows drawn together. Noticing his gaze, Lance looks up, raising an eyebrow. “Are you cold?” Keith asks after a moment of a silent staring contest. “No,” Lance replies. “You should’ve said something.” “I just said I’m not—” But Keith doesn’t listen. Already, he’s shrugging out of his red varsity jacket, and he leans over to drape it around Lance’s shoulders. ---- Or, 4 times Keith is determined to prevent Lance from getting sick, and the time Lance catches a cold after all.

I MISS CRYSTALKLANCES EVERY DAY, BRO. no one got ridiculously soft modern au keith like he did. fuck. but at least most of his works are still on ao3. i like this one in particularly one because its soft and im a weenie but also because its a 4+1 which is my favourite genre of fic ever actually

3. what makes you beautiful by seventies

MMA fighter Keith Kogane is admitted to the hospital and gets KO'd by blue eyes that rival the seas and a crooked grin that knocks the air out of his lungs. It hasn't even been a minute in the ring. It's a world fucking record.

rare blue eyed lance appreciation moment from me (old bookmark lmfao). but jokes aside i do love this fic. i will always always always every day of my life love whipped on sight keith idc. its so so funny to me. its funnier when lance is like oh! this is my rival. we are going to be ENEMIES FUCK YEAH and keith is like oh my god if i dont marry him right now im literally going to die. also this fic has matt just fyi

4. Lance and Keith's guide for how to cure insomnia by crystalklances

Keith has always had trouble sleeping, but never told anyone. When they fall asleep together after a mission by chance, Lance finds out and offers to share his bed to help Keith fall asleep. However, sleeping together every night has unforeseen side-effects for both of them.

from the iconic INVENTOR of the smitten keith tag. soft klance, in canon. touch starved keith. sharing a bed to stop the nightmares. i bought my ticket on the first word of the summary like

5. love you so bad by seyama [EXPLICIT]

Keith and Lance sneak off from a party to go and fuck. That's it, that's the whole story.

this was bantery and silly and fun. and the little argument over who gets to be the little spoon....shockingly tender and so so them ive read this one a fewww times lol

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[herrinarte]

Ok so jumping off what I said about SJM probably never writing a book on Mor and if she did it would be terrible, I actually have a decent idea of what she could do if she had the balls to do it.

Right, so Velaris is the only city under Rhysand’s rule that is actually a safe place for people to live so naturally you’re going to get an uprising. Classic revolution against the rich and prosperous from the poor and tortured. A group of fae are causing a stir and Rhys gets spooked so he sends Mor to ‘sort them out’, but when she gets there she is confronted by the leader of the revolution, a fae woman from the CoN who tells her she has suffered for long enough and so have so many women, women like her and Mor.

It would be a whole book about Mor having to confront the fact that she had escaped the nightmare that so many women have no choice but to spend their whole life living in and eventually die in, and did nothing to help them. Having to face the reality that Mr feminist, it’s your choice, I need a lint roller, Rhysand, might not be a good ruler and only really makes changes that benefit himself and the people close to him.

The romance would be between her and the revolution leader as they fight back and forth, Mor trying to derail the revolution and the leader steam rolling ahead whilst showing Mor how corrupt the system that she works for is. Eventually Mor learns from her and is the first to fall in love and actually tries to make a difference in the world for her people because she genuinely cares about them now and the leader finally allows herself to open up and trust someone who used to be her enemy.

It would involve a lot of gay tension and heated arguments about politics and such but it would also solve the glaring issue of Rhysand being an obviously bad ruler that no one seems to address within the books or acknowledge.

Obviously Sarah would never do this because it would require her to 1) state in black and white that Rhys is a bad ruler and not a super cool, mega genius feminist who would totally rock at being a high king. 2) write like an actual queer story. 3) be political.

It’s kind of disappointing that she doesn’t do stuff like this though. I’m no best selling author, I have no credentials, but I can see a world that she made that she could use to say something. She has loads of characters sat at the sidelines, waiting to be something, and she just goes for what she knows every time. I get it, she writes the same story over and over because it works and sells, but as a writer shouldn’t you make yourself uncomfortable? Try to challenge yourself. She’s made so much money from her books she has the financial stability to take risks that other authors don’t. She could write anything and she’d at least get sales from the die hard fans.

I know some will say she doesn’t want to say anything, her books are escapism, but SJM consistently says she want women at the centre of her books, that she’s a feminist or whatever, and I’m just screaming THEN SAY SOMETHING OF WORTH GIRL.

Women are at the centre yet the lady of the autumn court is still unnamed after all these years, a prominent figure of political importance, the mother of a main character. Still no name. Come on, girl, really?

Anyway, rant 2 over. I really do think her books are fun if you turn off your brain for 6hrs but I can’t help but feel like Sarah is slacking, majorly. In 2024 we can do better.

[loverofpiggies]

Hey guys, I got something I’m ready to talk about under the cut. It’s super long! And it’s pretty serious, so feel free to scroll past. It’s also about some serious subject matter regarding transphobia, so if you’re not in a good place and ready to read about something like that, take care of yourself first and foremost. Okay?

Okay.

Hey guys, I’ve been doing a lot of self discovery these last few…. I guess technically my whole life, but I only got serious about focusing and working on it these last few years, and it has to do with my history of transphobia. I want to talk about my journey of growth, and what I’ve done to grow, and maybe it could help anyone else dealing with similar issues.

I was a pretty…. Hateful kid, to put it lightly. I was very angry, VERY angry, and obsessed over all this anger and hatred I had at everyone, but especially at myself. I’ve been in therapy as far back as I can remember, and more meds than I’d like to admit, trying to figure out what was ‘wrong’ with me. Which was a lot, by the way.

Anyway, around 2016, I got really serious about therapy. As a kid I didn’t take it seriously, but by 2016 I knew I needed help. I realized how my anger was ripping me apart, and how deeply it was rooted in hating myself. So, without therapy, and without the tools of therapy, I’d try to alter thoughts as they’d happen. I’d see someone dressed in a way I didn’t like? My thoughts immediately turned to hatred and judgementality. I taught myself to step back, and go, ‘hold on. You don’t know them. That’s a lot to assume about someone you’ve never talked to.’ and it helped curb a lot of my most angry and judgemental thoughts, at least, I thought so. In truth, all it did, was bury the issue, instead of addressing it.

Going into therapy seriously this time as an adult, I started unburying my own trauma, small bit by small bit. I started journaling a lot of it out, and my therapist put it best. Going to therapy is like trying to untangle a ball of paperclips. You might be like ‘ah, I just want to take this one paperclip out’ but it’s attached to so many other things you wouldn’t have guessed, and eventually you just. End up with the whole ball. You go to therapy for one ‘small’ thing, oops, you’re talking about this huge other thing that you never knew was related.

Also at this point, I was pretty serious about my spirituality. I was sick of being so angry and judgemental, I got deep into meditation and learning about compassion, because… well I lacked so much of it for so long. My favorite quote, that helped me grow the most, is “If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete” by Jack Kornfield. Another one I adore, is, “Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.” attributed to lots of people so I’m not actually sure who the original quoter is. If you watched a lot of my early streams, I was pretty obsessed with kindness and spirituality at that point! Half the time the streams turned into talks about that, lol. Sorry if that was a bit much, I was in a ‘place’ at that time.

After realizing how angry I was, and being so exhausted from it, I swung the opposite way pretty hard. I knew what it felt like to be angry and judgemental, and hurt people because of it. I’ve seen people I was very close to in my life, destroy relationships because of anger. And I was trying so hard to make up for it, to stop being so angry. I didn’t want to hurt people anymore, I didn’t want to hurt myself, and I wanted to be kind and understanding about perspectives I spent so long cutting off. And the therapy helped, a lot! I worked on a lot of deep issues, and my mind, more and more, started being less angry. I also got on meds, because we *finally* figured out what my issue was, and got me on the right medication. At least, once I got over my ‘I don’t need medication’ phase. Which was an absolute blessing.

I thought to myself, ah ha! Look at me, look at all this progress! I’m not angry or judgemental anymore. I’ve opened up so many doors, learned so many new things, I’m okay now, I don’t need any further help.’ With all the progress I had made, I really believed I didn’t need anymore work. The growth I made in just a couple years was astounding, and I wasn’t where I needed to be, but by this point I had the tools I needed to work on things myself. This was what I told myself anyway.

Also around this time, I was making my first close trans friends. And there was this weird, nasty feeling in my head, that I thought I had gotten past. These angry, judgemental thoughts cropped back up again, and they shocked me. I thought I was past this sort of anger, this judgementality. I didn’t want to look at it. I didn’t want to acknowledge it, or look deeper. I didn’t want to think that I could be so mean again, especially after all the work and growth I put in. So, I shoved it away, as hard as I could. I didn’t want to see it, and I didn’t want to think about it.

The problem with trying to shove angry, and judgemental, hateful thoughts away, is they don’t actually go away. They stay, and force themselves out in other ways. They come back as ‘jokes’ or ignorant angry comments. They come out subconsciously, as a defensive reaction. But… I didn’t want to acknowledge that I might be transphobic, or have transphobic thoughts. I didn’t want to be angry. So when I’d ‘joke’, or make a comment, I’d feel ashamed, and try to bury it deeper. And deeper. And it just made it worse. I also used my therapy as a defense mechanism too, without realizing it. “I’m fine now, I’ve gone to therapy, I don’t need any more work, I’m fine!” So. I buried it. I think there’s a pattern here.

After years of therapy, you’d think I’d realize what was going on. I was trying to bury this, the way I tried to bury all my anger for so many years. I knew from experience, that burying the issue does not work, and just makes it so much worse in the long run. But, I didn’t actually realize I was burying it. I was so deep in my own denial, that I couldn’t see it. Because there was a lot of deep shame there, too. I had so many amazing trans friends, and the experiences they had dealt with by this time, JUST for being trans, horrified me. I never, *ever* wanted to be a source of pain for them. But I’d still make comments, or ‘jokes’. Then, I’d feel horrible, crushing guilt, and try to force that bad side of me down even further.

By this point, a good majority of my friend group was either trans, or non binary. I loved them so much, and didn’t want to acknowledge my issues, or the fact that I had thoughts that could hurt them. Eventually, one of my trans friends approached me, and my god, I’m so lucky to have them in my life. But they approached me, telling me “I know you don’t mean to hurt anyone. I think… maybe it’s time to talk to your therapist about this.”

And… they were right. I spent so much time in denial, once they said this to me, it clicked. Yes, I do need to talk to someone. I can’t live like this anymore. If compassion is as important to me as I’ve always said, I need to work on any parts of me that still hold anger. But I was also so terrified, after spending so long trying to avoid it, now I was going to open up to someone? And say whatever my thoughts were out loud? What if I couldn’t be fixed? What if I was destined to be hateful and angry forever, no matter how hard I worked? I didn’t want to hear my own thoughts. I didn’t want to see this awful side of me, after spending so long trying to ‘defeat it’. I didn’t even know how dark it got, and my mind conjured all sorts of nasty ideas of how ‘bad’ of a person I was.

So. I walked into my therapist’s office, and said… out loud. “I think I’m transphobic. And I hate it.” I’ll leave a lot of details out, because it’s pretty personal, but I’ll go over the important things I discovered. After she let me speak for a bit, we turned to my gender identity. She asked me things in detail. I’m a cis woman, so I didn’t think I had any issues with my gender identity, so her questions confused me, but deeper than that, they scared me. There was still something inside of me that wanted to fight back, to protect me from whatever was coming. But I pushed forward.

As we pulled apart the paperclips, and started getting to the root of my true, deeper issue, I started to realize something. See, I’m pretty confident and comfortable in my skin. At least, I believed I was. I told myself, anyway. In a similar vein as I used ‘compassion’ to shove away parts of myself I hated, I used ‘confidence’ to shove away the insecure parts of myself as well. Which, I mean, couldn’t be a more false version of confidence OR compassion if you ask me.

I started to realize that I had a deep insecurity about my own femininity. A deep, crippling insecurity. See, my face and body are pretty androgynous. With long hair, I can look like a girl, but with short hair I can look pretty boyish. I don’t have much of a figure, or a chest, so I can be mistaken for a boy under lots of circumstances. That, combined with the fact that tight clothes are uncomfortable for me, meant overall I looked very unfeminine. And I was bullied a lot for it, growing up. Kids would call me a boy. In highschool, I was made fun of a lot, too. I’d be made fun of for not looking like a ‘girl’. This was only one factor of my bullying at the time, like I mentioned before. I had a lot of pretty severe behavior issues, so it sorta made me a prime target for bullying. I wanted to be viewed as a girl, as a woman. But because my looks didn’t fit enough into their ‘boxes’, I was made fun of. I was laughed at, and I can’t tell you how often people would say things like ‘are you SURE you’re a girl down there?’.

And this was the smoking gun. I finally had the realization I needed. This is hard to write, but. Because I didn’t fit in the mold of what my peers thought a woman was, I felt guilt, and I felt shame. And I shoved it away. And realized… subconsciously, I was doing what was done to me, to my trans friends. To the trans community. And it hurt. It hurt so much, to realize what I was doing. But now it also made so much sense. The guilt, the trying to ‘play it off’, the avoidance, the burying. It was so painful to grow up with those comments, that my mind was trying to shove away and hide me from realizing I was continuing the cycle of pain.

Not only that, but in therapy I learned something else. I’m still working through this, but. I realized as well I have dysphoria, and some mild dysmorphia. The fact that I was perceived so differently then I felt about myself in my adolescence, followed me deeply into adulthood.

I realized that when I would have friends talk about dysmorphia, my defense mechanism would kick in, to avoid me thinking that I might have the same issue. In fact, all my defense mechanisms would kick in, to avoid me from reliving the bullying and the trauma.

And anyone who knows anything about therapy, knows how much this shit hurts. It hurts SO much to open up wounds you’ve tried to hide, to look in and see where the real issue lies. To realize that maybe you haven’t been as kind as you wanted, even if it wasn’t intentional.

But… after the tears, and the pain of reliving this, and ripping open all the doors I was trying to close, to shove away… there was relief. I finally knew what was wrong. And that I knew where to start working. How to start helping myself grow, and be better.

So many things clicked, and my issues with transphobia evaporated. Finally facing it, finally confronting it, and realizing the deeper sides of myself, took away all that power my anger was holding onto. I had to reteach myself that, ‘hey, thanks for trying to protect me, but I’m okay now. You don’t have to protect me anymore.’

I’m still working on my issues with my femininity. After realizing this, I went through my closet and got rid of everything that made me feel ‘unpretty’. I went thrift shopping, and found looser clothes that still made me feel like a girl. I’m slowly growing my hair out, to see if I’m happier with long hair, or happier with short. In truth, I’m rediscovering myself again. It’s easier to look in the mirror.

The defensive reactions went away. The ‘jokes’ disappeared, and I didn’t have to fight to bury anything anymore. And I could be the supportive friend I always deeply wanted to be. To push back at a society that doesn’t like people ever sitting outside specific ‘molds’. To help make a world be safer for anyone who doesn’t align with the mainstream idea of what being a person is. To what being a man, or a woman is. To being whatever a human is.

This has been very long. But. I wanted to go through the entire experience, every step, to show how I worked on myself. And how I grew, from this darker, angrier, unhappy version of myself. And that maybe it could help anyone else who’s had the same experience. I also wanted to go through all of this, to show the steps I’ve made. And to my trans and nonbinary friends? To all the people in the trans community that I may have hurt in the past? I’m sorry. Genuinely, and truly. I never wanted to be another source of pain, especially to trans people, who already experience so much discrimination.

This was a painful experience to go through, but one I definitely needed. I’m still journaling, working on my issues and working on becoming a happier me. I had to take my time to discover myself, and wanted to open up about my journey to yall. I was finally ready to talk about this.

Anyway. I hope you have a beautiful day, and I hope every day is happier than the last. Cheers yall.

[jaehyunsbreadbasket]

Fuck The Rules- Mindy Meeks-Martin

Word Count: 1.2K

Synopsis: It's your last night alive and you only have one mission: fuck Mindy Meeks-Martin.

Consists of: Gender neutral AFAB reader, mentions of death, mentions of murder, brief mention of knives, brief mention of guns, brief mention of drugs and alcohol, reader is so sickeningly in love with Mindy, a little asphyxiation, reader and Mindy make out

Here it is, the long awaited end of the world, or the end of Woodsboro at least. And what's the best way to say goodbye? A giant house party apparently. It's supposedly "For Wes" but I've never seen half these people in the same room as him when he was alive, and we only toasted to him once before people went back to their typical house party nonsense: hooking up, smoking, and smashing shit.

But I'm here too so you'd think that says something about me too, makes me hypocritical for critiquing my peers. But I'm here for one reason, and one reason only. And that reason happens to have curly black hair, a highly eccentric personality, and the most animated reactions ever known to man, Mindy Meeks-Martin.

Now I've never actually talked to Mindy, but there's something about the feeling of the end that pushes you to take chances. Even before the killings, I knew now was the time to get bold, it is senior year after all. Now that my high school career as well as my literal life may be ending, it truly is now or never.

Mindy is sitting in the living room, loudly commentating on the scene in Stab where Randy explains "The Rules." She's so immersed in it, probably a combination of her love for movies and her admiration for her uncle, but maybe because a part of her thinks these rules could truly come in clutch now. Maybe she's prepping for survival. I come over and sit next to her in the most casual way I can. Not too close, but not far away enough for someone else to squeeze in between us, I'd gotten tripped up too many times before, I had to have a fool proof plan this time.

But to my surprise, Mindy speaks to me, "You ready to die tonight?" she asks with a smile completely inappropriate for the question. If it was anyone else, I might even be weirded out. But it was Mindy, and she asked me a question.

"Oh yeah, I have a special request for the killer of how I wanna die," I smile back at her, copying her way of sitting, leaning back against the couch.

"Well do tell!"

"Well, I don't just wanna be stabbed, or shot, or any of that other boring shit. I want something interesting-"

"Like Tatum in the garage door?" she cuts me off.

"Exactly! Just like that. But not exactly that, still something new. If I have to get killed here like tens of people before, I'd definitely like to have something that sets my murder apart from the others."

"Oh so you're one of those people that try to be different," she rolls her eyes playfully, "attention seeker."

"And you're not? Sitting here at the center of the party yelling at the TV. If anything it seems like you're the attention seeker."

"I don't need to seek attention, people look at me anyways. You especially," Mindy scoots closer to me now, resting her head on her arm propped up on the back of the couch. She looks at me intensely.

"I-I don't-" I start, feeling myself getting ready to back out. But then I remember, last chance. I'm never gonna have Mindy Meeks-Martin this close to me ever again, hell we both might be dead by tomorrow. Now or never, "It's hard not to, a pretty girl like you."

"You think I'm pretty?" she bats her eyelashes rapidly and plays with her hair. She knows this. When you look like she does you have to know.

"You're gorgeous," I continue.

She comes even closer, her face inches away from mine, "You are too. I didn't know if you'd ever grow the balls to come talk to me. It made me kinda sad, honestly. I could've fucked you years ago."

"W-what?" and there goes my composure.

"I could've fucked you years ago," she says slower, really wanting me to understand, "But now I can't. So sad," she pouts, shaking her head.

"Why not?"

"Rule number one, darling, "Never have sex" especially not in this spooky ass house, you know this is where the original act three went down."

I, in fact, did not know that. But having knowledge of it now, doesn't make my pussy throb any less for her. If anything it makes everything feel more necessary, more urgent. I urgently needed to see Mindy Meeks-Martin naked.

"Those rules aren't always true though. Sidney had sex. In this "spooky ass house" no less, and she's still standing."

"Yes because Sidney Prescott is a freak of nature, the most special of cases. We're not Sid."

"Speak for yourself."

She lets out a breathy laugh, "If you have sex you could die. You want me so bad that you'd risk it?"

"What if I did?" I challenge her, making the gap between our faces smaller and smaller.

"I'm not gonna let you get me caught up," she puts both her hands up in defense, "You really think you can fight the rules?"

"I think you'd really like to see me try," I lean all the way in, pressing my lips against Mindy's gently, fighting every urge in my body to stick my tongue in her mouth right away. But once again, Mindy beats me to it, her tongue already exploring every corner of my mouth. She grabs my face with both hands, and brings the rest of her body closer, she's almost straddling me. Mindy kisses like she's hungry. As if she's been starving and I'm her first meal in weeks. My body feels hot all over, my skin is burning, every hair on my body is standing straight up. I feel like I'm not even in my own body right now, like I've floated away to what I can only assume to be heaven because Mindy is kissing me right now, and it's better than every dream I've ever had.

I'm not really sure what to do with my hands. I want to touch her of course, but I'm not entirely sure where the best place would be right now. The waist is a given, but Mindy doesn't seem like the kind of girl that'd like that. It'd be awkward to hold her face because she's already holding mine. My thoughts are immediately swiped away as she grabs my hand and places it in her hair. I run my hands through her hair, pulling her deeper and deeper into me. We haven't stopped to breathe once, but I kinda like the dizzy feeling it gives me. I think I have a new request, death by suffocation. I can think of no better way to have my last breath than directly into Mindy Meeks-Martin's mouth.

"God, get a room Mindy!" Mindy and I pull away from each other as a loud male voice shouts in our direction. Mindy's brother Chad, plops down on the couch next to me and chirps a quick "Hi." I awkwardly wave back.

"Must you ruin EVERYTHING??" Mindy shouts at him, reaching behind me to push his head back.

"Ow!"

"You wanna go upstairs?" Mindy looks to me and grabs my hand. I almost faint right then and there. She just had her tongue shoved down my throat but hand holding is when I lose it.

"What about the rules?" I ask her. I'm teasing again, but in the back of my head I'm also saying this to create an escape route for either of us, for me mostly.

"Fuck the rules," she pulls both of us up and after I nod to her she leads me away. Her and Chad flip each other off as we climb up the stairs.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Part 2 coming soon!

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