#but i needed to rant about them for a bit

[ashwhowrites]

Hi there! I love your work, I was wondering if I could request a virgin Eddie who’s a lil bit of a perv who is in love with his best friend (the reader) and when she tells him she likes him and they eventually have sex Eddie’s all nervous. Maybe starting off a lil angsty and then fluff?? Thank you!!

I LOVE perv eddie.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting ❤️

⚠️Smut!

His first time

Eddie was a basic man who had basic needs. He enjoyed adult magazines, he wouldn't deny it. He saved up to buy the newest issues, pleasuring himself to all the different women and their breasts.

He enjoyed checking the girls out, loved watching the cheerleaders perform and sex scenes in movies. But he got bored of the same things.

He blasted music through his speakers as he tried to focus on making himself cum. But he was getting frustrated as nothing seemed to get him there. He tossed the magazine on the floor, closing his eyes as he tried to picture the cheerleaders from before.

His hand moved fast on his cock as he clenched his eyes. His body was covered in sweat and his body was cramping from how hard he was trying to cum. He tried to imagine the scene like he was there again.

He sat next to his best friend, Y/N, as the cheerleaders warmed up. Their long legs stretched out as they bent over. Eddie noticeably checked them out, along with every boy in the crowd.

The bleachers were uncomfortable as Y/N tried to shift. The popcorn in her hand spilled as she did, landed right at Eddie's feet.

"Oh fuck!" She groaned. It caught Eddie's attention, before he could ask, she was reaching down to grab the pieces. Her body was right between his legs. He felt his breath get caught in his throat as her hand rested on his knee to balance herself. Her head between his thighs.

Eddie moaned as he felt his body melting into the mattress. Finally relaxing enough for him to feel true pleasure as he jerked himself off.

He looked down, enjoying the way her shirt dipped and he could see the top of her breasts.

Eddie sighed in pleasure as cum shot out of his cock, painting his hand as he worked himself through it. His hair sticking to his sweaty body as he thanked God he was finally cumming.

Then he realized what made him cum.

His best friend.

~~~

Eddie felt a little bit ashamed about masturbating to his best friend, but not ashamed enough to stop doing it. She was behind the greatest orgasms he's ever felt and he couldn't give that up.

It had been months since he first did it, and now he didn't see any worthy of girl compared to her. He was captivated by her. He began falling for her.

Suddenly her smile made his stomach flutter. The way she laughed made him smile. He wanted to feel her skin against his. He was curious to know how her lips felt.

He wasn't the best with feelings so he didn't bother to tell her how he felt. Plus, there was no way she'd be into him. She was out of his league even as friends. He kept his feelings to himself, torturing himself every second he spent with her.

She was ranting about a teacher. Her mouth moved but Eddie heard silence. Her hands were waving around as she cussed but he was focused on the deep cut of her T-shirt.

He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but he couldn't help but look down at the small part of her bra that was showing. He tried not to whine when she crossed her arms, squishing her delicious breasts against each other.

Fuck he craved to stick his head right between them. Or his cock. He felt himself twitch at the thought. Oh, he definitely wanted to push his cock between her tits.

~

"Wanna play a game or chicken?" Steve asked Eddie as they swam around the neighborhood pool.

"Depends, who's on you and who's on me," Eddie said.

"I'll take Dustin," Steve said as Dustin jumped in. "YO, KID! GET ON MY SHOULDERS!"

Eddie looked around for a partner, a smile on his face as he swam to the edge. He propped his arms up on the concrete, whistling to gain her attention.

Y/N opened her eyes under her sunglasses, looking towards the pool from her spot on the chairs. Eddie was looking at her with a suggestive smile.

"Oh God, what?" She sighed. She pushed her glasses up on her head and sat up. Her day of tanning seemed to be cancelled.

"Be my partner and beat Steve's ass?" He asked, he had one eye scrunched as he looked up at her. The sun beamed right on him.

She knew she could never say no to Eddie. And truthfully, sitting on Eddie's broad shoulders sounded like a wet dream. She stood up and discarded her sunglasses. She quickly took off her shorts and Eddie clapped as she walked towards him.

He whistled as she began to walk into the water. She flicked him off as her body felt the cold water.

"Damn, always looking good in a swimsuit," he winked. She rolled her eyes, hoping the sun was the reason her skin heated up.

Eddie plunged under the water, letting her sit on his shoulders as he stood up. She loved the feeling of his arms holding down her legs. The way they were wrapped around her.

He loved every second of her legs wrapped around him. The feeling of her cunt on the back of his neck. He wanted more than anything to lay her on the concrete and turn around, dive his face in her cunt as he ate her out in front of everyone. He hoped the splashing of the water hid the growing erection in his swim shorts.

~

It was a Friday night and Eddie was getting ready for a party that Y/N was dragging him to. It wasn't something he wanted to do but he had a hard time looking at her and saying no. Plus, if he didn't go she'd still go and he wasn't in the mood to hear about how she got hit on all night.

She's had boyfriends before and they never had Eddie's approval. Which made much more sense now that he knew he was in love with her.

He shoved a few pre rolls in his pocket and ran out the door.

~

About an hour into the party, he lost her. They were outside where he could smoke freely, she went in to get a drink and hadn't come back out. He was getting slightly worried so he stood up from the grass and began walking towards the house.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned. He thought maybe it was her but another girl stood in front of him.

"Hi sorry, but I was wondering if you had any of what you were smoking left? Or even a cigarette?" The girl asked

Eddie wasn't sure who she was, digging into his pocket as he grabbed his cigarettes. "Can't share the good stuff, but I can offer this." He smiled as he passed one over.

She smiled and took it, "lighter?" She put the cigarette between her lips, Eddie flicked his lighter the flame coming to life as he lit the end of the cigarette. She inhaled the smoke. She sighed from the taste. "Thank you. I needed this."

"Not a problem," he smiled. He prepared to turn around and leave but she spoke up again.

"Are you here alone?" She asked

Eddie was a little confused. It felt like she was hitting on him. "Uh no, my friend is inside getting drinks. Which is where I'm heading because it's been like an hour," he said as he checked his watch.

"Well if you don't find your friend, come find me," she winked as she turned around and walked off. The cigarette smoke following her. Eddie was stunned, he barely got hit on.

"Sorry!" Y/N said as she appeared in front of him. "You can't imagine how busy that kitchen is," she noticed the weird look on his face as she handed his drink over.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just think that girl over there was flirting with me," he said as he nodded his head in her direction. Y/N felt her stomach turn as she followed his head. She didn't like knowing someone was showing interest in him. She felt jealous as she spotted the girl smoking a few feet away.

"Oh! Well...she's cute, I guess," Y/N shrugged as she looked back at him. She didn't like how his eyes were still on the girl. "Did you, um, want to talk to her?" She cursed herself for asking. For giving him the option because she didn't want him to.

"Should I? I'm not sure how to talk to girls," Eddie said nervously. He took a swig from his red cup as the alcohol burned down his throat.

"You talk to me," Y/N said, once again not sure why she was trying to help.

"Yeah but that's different. You aren't into me and looking for like... something," he coughed, feeling uncomfortable at the idea.

Y/N figured this was the chance to say something. She could correct him, tell him she was into him and she wanted something with him. She opened her mouth, weight on her chest.

"Eddie, loo-"

"I'm going to do it. Hold this for me," he said as he handed her the cup. He wiped his hands on his jeans and took a few deep breaths. She frowned as he walked away, heading to the pretty girl.

So much for telling him how she felt, she thought. She carried their drinks towards the small bench in the backyard. She wasn't sure if she should watch or stare off into space. She tried to drink away the lump in her throat. Hoping the alcohol would kill all the shit she felt inside.

She finished off her drink, her eyes flicking to where he was. He was smiling as the girl laughed, shoving his arm. She quickly looked away, the sight alone hurt her more than she would like to admit. She chugged his drink, getting up as she went to fill the cups again. Fuck, she needed many drinks to survive this.

She debated going back outside, but figured inside was safer. The air was thick as there wasn't much room to walk around. She escaped to the front yard, letting herself sit on the grass.

She knew she should have said something sooner. Now he was probably going to come ask to bring the girl home. And Y/N wanted to cry at the thought.

She wasn't sure how long she was out there, but she knew it had to be over an hour. At this point she was sad and alone. She was ready to go home and cry herself to sleep. She stood up and dusted off her clothes. She prep talked herself as she walked to the backyard.

She tried to blink away tears as he was still with the girl, much closer than before. Maybe she was jealous, or maybe she was tired, but she didn't find a problem with walking right up to them.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I want to go home," she said. Her tone was serious and it worried Eddie as he looked at her.

"Are you okay?" He asked

"Yeah, just not feeling well," she wasn't fully lying. She did feel like she could puke right at their feet as their fingers were inches away from each other.

"Yeah, here are the keys. I'll be there in like a minute?"

She nodded as she grabbed the keys. Completely ignoring the girl as she began her walk to the van. She made it down the street when Eddie ran after her, throwing his arm over her shoulder as he panted.

"Sure you're okay? Need to get water or something?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Eddie," she softly smiled. She handed him the keys as they arrived where he parked. They climbed in but Eddie wasn't making any moves to drive off.

"What's going on?" He asked as he looked over at her. She looked straight ahead.

"I said I'm fine, can we please go home?"

Eddie sighed and started up the van, driving off.

The ride was silent. Y/N spent the whole drive forcing her tears to stay in her eyes. And Eddie kept glancing her way.

~

They entered his empty trailer, still silent as she worked her way into his bedroom. He took off his jacket and threw it somewhere on the floor. He walked to his room, freezing as she had her back to him as she unclipped her bra. He gazed at the naked skin, wanting her so badly to turn around. But one of his T-shirts was tossed on. She collected her clothes and put them in a small pile. Turning around, jumping as Eddie stood here.

"Jesus. You move like a mouse," she laughed. But Eddie's face was hard to read as he looked at her. She didn't say anything, just threw herself on his bed. She sighed in relaxation as she cuddled into his pillows.

Eddie removed his shirt, unaware of her watching eyes as he moved into the bathroom.

She tried to calm down her racing heart as he changed. She hoped she could avoid talking but she had a feeling he still didn't believe her.

A few seconds later he walked out, only in boxers. She chewed on her bottom lip as he joined her in bed. The small lamp beside him was the only form of light.

They stared at each other, both softly memorizing each other's faces. "You sure you're okay?" He whispered, his hand moving to softly rub her hip. She melted into his touch.

"Did you like her?" She whispered. Her voice horse as she tried not to cry.

"Not really," he admitted honestly. He continued to rub her hip as he shifted closer. His face right in front of her as he frowned. "Is that what this is about?"

She closed her eyes as she had to face it. She opened her eyes, Eddie was quick to wipe away the tears that began to fall. "Oh baby," he whispered as he pulled her into him.

Her nose was pressed against his.

"You know how you said I wasn't into you so talking to me was different?"

He nodded, thumb rubbing her cheek.

"I do like you," she whispered. She hoped he didn't hear it, but that was impossible as there wasn't any space between them. "I wanted to tell you but you know," she sniffled.

"You do know that if I knew, no way in hell I would have bothered with her," he admitted. She felt herself smile.

"Yeah?"

"You don't know how long I've been thinking about you," he whispered. His heart raced as she smiled. He couldn't believe it after all this time, she liked him.

Her smile slowly fell as she looked at his lips. She didn't say anything as she leaned in and pressed her lips against his. He gladly kissed her back, rolling on his back as she rolled on top of him. He moved his hands on her back as her tongue slipped in his mouth.

He whined at how incredible her lips and tongue felt. The feeling of her hands moving into his hair made him clench. His mind already raced with dirty images of them, his cock growing under her as he couldn't fight them off.

She could feel his cock growing hard underneath her, pride in her chest as her kiss seemed to do enough to drive him insane. It did the same to her, she didn't want to wait for anything. She wanted him to fuck her and kill the tension she always felt with him.

She rolled her hips against him, moaning into his mouth as his cock rubbed against her thin panties.

She pulled away for air, moving her lips to his neck. He shivered as she sucked on his skin. He didn't know what any of this felt like, but damn it felt good coming from her. He didn't care how noticeable her marks would be, he wanted to be covered.

His mind was clouded with pleasure as she kept rocking against his cock. Barely noticing her hands moving to strip off her shirt.

Wait, was this happening? Right now? He thought. His cock twitched seeing her bare tits. He stared in awe as his hands dropped to her hips.

She patiently waited for him to touch her, but he quite literally looked like a deer in headlights.

"Eds?" She asked

He looked into her eyes and she could see the nerves in his eyes.

"Shit! I'm sorry," she said as she climbed off his lap. Her face burned with embarrassment as she covered herself with his blanket. She closed her eyes as she wished to disappear.

"No, it's okay!" He reassured her. He sat up.

"We don't have to do any of that. I got way too caught up" she uncomfortably laughed. She felt like an idiot.

"I want to. Fuck, I want to so bad. I just have no idea what I'm doing," he admitted. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Have you ever done it before?" She asked, no judgement in her eyes.

"No," he said quickly, "but I promise I know I want to. And I'm ready right now," he rushed out. He was so desperate as his cock throbbed under the sheets. He was far too gone to ignore it and move on.

"Are you sure? I'm fine with just going to bed," she offered.

"I want you," he confirmed, leaning in as he pressed his lips against hers. She gladly accepted the kiss, climbing back on his lap.

She pulled away. "I'll go slow, okay?"

He nodded, just wishing she'd sink down on him already.

"Do you have a condom?" She asked. He quickly turned to his nightstand, yanking it open. She eyed the amount of condoms scattered around and a pair of handcuffs. "I hope you weren't planning on using all of those immediately."

Eddie blushed as he handed her the wrapper, and shut the drawer. "I wanted to be prepared."

"And the handcuffs?" She teased as she tore the package open. He watched as she moved down his body, hands seconds away from touching him.

"To experiment," he said in a heavy breath. His eyes locked on her hands as she began to put the condom on him. He shivered as she rolled it on, the single touch was better than anything he felt by himself.

She climbed up his body and put her face up against his. "Don't think you'll ever do this with someone else, got it?"

He moaned at her possessive words, loving the heat behind her eyes. He gladly would submit to her anytime she wanted him.

She smiled at his reaction, moving her body to hover over his cock. His submissive eyes were staring, becoming glossy as he whined for her to do something.

She softly gripped his cock, slowly sinking herself down on him. He let out a loud long moan as he gripped her hips. She was so warm. She gave herself a second to adjust to his size, planting her hands on his chest as she began to roll her hips.

His head smacked his headboard with a thunk as he threw his head back. Her wrapped around him easily became the best thing he ever felt.

He pried his eyes open so he could watch her. She looked angelic on top of him. The way her tits moved, her hair, her scrunched eyes and mouth open with moans. He wanted to feel more of her, sitting up straight as his unrehearsed hands moved to her chest.

He froze before he touched her. His eyes look up to her for answers. She opened her eyes when she felt him moving. She looked down at his puppy eyes. She tried not to speak on how fucking adorable he looked.

She slowed down her hips as she pressed her forehead against his. With her lips being that close, he didn't second think of his movements as he kissed her. She moved her hands to wrap around his neck, deepening this kiss. She waited until he wanted to pull away, sitting still on him.

He pulled back, his hands still on her chest. "May I?"

She nodded, going back to moving on his cock. "Yeah, baby. Touch me."

He growled at her words. His eager hands massaged her breasts, making her arch into him. He moaned at how they felt in his hands, so warm, and full. He hated how close he was, wanting this to never stop.

Y/N changed her pace as she went faster. He felt incredible inside of her. He was a perfect fit and she loved the way he kissed and touched her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he moaned. His brain only focused on how amazing the build up was, and how he never felt anything like it. He wrapped his arms around her and flipped them over. He didn't know how but he fucked himself into her, doing something right as she moaned out.

He fucked her, head dropping into her sweaty neck as he felt his final thrusts shake. He panted into her neck, she greedily wrapped her legs around his waist to shove him deeper inside her.

"That's it, Eddie," she praised. He gave his final thrusts as he came inside the condom. His orgasm ran through his whole body, he felt it everywhere.

He pulled out of her, body feeling like jelly. "Holy fuck," he chuckled out of breath. "That was the best thing I've ever felt."

Y/N squirmed as he shifted, his cock still inside of her. He wanted to continue but the more he moved, it began to hurt.

"Pull out, Eddie. It's okay," she smiled. He nodded and pulled out, already missing how she felt around him.

"But you didn't cum," he frowned.

"That's okay! This was about you," she said as she rubbed his cheek. But he wasn't having it. No way he was leaving her with nothing.

He wasn't sure what to do, but he's seen enough movies to have a slight idea. His hand skimmed down her body, sliding two fingers inside of her.

She gasped as his long fingers moved inside of her. She moved her hand down to her clit but Eddie slapped it away. He was determined to do it all on his own.

He added a third finger as he used his other hand to circle her clit. She softly put her hand over his to show him how. He enjoyed the way her breathing increased and she began to moan more. He kept a steady pace with his fingers on her clit, and fucking her as fast as his fingers would allow.

"Fuck that's it, don't change anything," she said, throwing her head back as she moved herself on his fingers to feel him deeper.

"Yes ma'am,"

Her eyes rolled in the back of her head from the name, feeling loved by the way his eyes watched her. And how badly he wanted to make her cum.

She focused on her orgasm as it began building. Her hands stretched out to grip his shoulders as she began to shake.

"Gonna cum," she warned, immediately soaking his fingers as she came.

Eddie continued, loving the sounds of her wet cunt, until she pushed his hands away.

He cleaned them both up before he crawled to lay next to her.

"I love you," he whispered as he cupped her cheek. He left a small kiss to her lips.

"I love you, too"

[chacusha]

Yes, this.

I was going to post a rant here about how Dreamwidth autocompresses uploaded JPGs, but I checked and I think I was mistaken and it doesn't actually autocompress JPGs, at least not in the image albums.

But in any case, let me make a more general rant/note that image hosting sites that autocompress JPGs are bad, actually, because this discourages artists and graphic makers from using the very space-efficient JPG format in favor of using space-inefficient lossless formats that will guard against the website compressing their images to shit. (Saving and uploading as jpg IS my compression -- no further compression needed!) A site autocompressing JPGs is an unhappy medium between economy and wastefulness that only winds up increasing hosting costs overall. Leave them be!

Instead, sites should give people a fairly low total storage space quota (preferably one that increases modestly year on year) and leave people to manage their own compression and space allocation accordingly. This minimizes overall bandwidth usage, and it's good for people to be aware of how big their files are and if they need to be that big to convey what people want to convey. (Giving the user tools to mass-compress/size down images on command is good too -- it can be a bit annoying to have two versions of files on my computer (the original I want to keep for myself and the smaller size I want to publish to the internet), especially for things like photos where I don't really care for sharing the full size photo.)

"Haha I want the feel of tumblr in another community but I want them to be user-funded. Bleebus.shart seems like the answer but they won't let me upload files above 8 megs so..."

I am saying this so gently and with no condescension: no website with two braincells to rub together will allow you to upload 8 meg+ files without the cash outlay being offset by VC or data brokering. Nobody. If they say they are doing it, they are lying to you about how the website is funded or they have the budgeting skills of a 10-year-old.

[freshbakedbreadstick]

Advantages and Disadvantages - Smoke x F! POC Coded! Reader x Stack BLURB - SINNERS (2025)

Smoke & Stack x F! POC coded! Reader

Summary: Thank goodness you got stuck with those two.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is described to have a vagina. Reader's appearance is not mentioned, HOWEVER, I wrote this with women of color in mind!! NO SPOILERS! Mentions of vaginal fingering, dirty talk, probably out of character because I haven't seen the movie yet, dirty talk, reader is referenced to be a childhood friend of the twins, THREESOME, no incest between twins just sharing.

Word Count: 914 words (only a blurb sorryyy)

A/N: Wrote this while waiting for my delayed ass bus 😭 anyways it's unedited so I hope it's not so bad ! ! ! Anyways I need to watch this movie BADLY but I'm swamped in work rn 🙃 need the lord to throw me a bone and let me watch this movie ASAP I need it ! Enjoy !

Being childhood best friends to twins had its advantages and disadvantages, as all things do. But lately it seems like it's advantages were outweighing it's disadvantages...

It's disadvantages included always having two people teasing you whenever you knocked something over or fumbled your words when ranting about your day. It included being scared not once but twice in a day, the same familiar face yelling out "BOO!" as you rounded the corner, making your heart fall down to your toes. It also included having not one but two people to constantly worry for, including both in your nightly prayers and under your breath curses.

It's advantages included having four hands, two mouths, two dicks, and two very beautiful sights.

You don't know who to thank or praise for sending you these two, for borderline attaching them to you since you were a child, making you the three musketeers in every situation. Their names were synonymous with your own, constantly being seen as Smoke and Stack and You.

You were never alone, no, not since those two came into your life. It was hard to ignore them, you definitely tried in your teen years after vicious hormone infused arguments. It only ended with brown eyed gazes, soft touches, and gentle cooes being uttered, buttering you up until you couldn't ignore them any longer.

It was unbearable.

It was like, at this point, they knew everything about you and exactly what buttons to press to get you to do what they wanted. Like how to sweet talk you into giving them another dessert after helping make dinner with their mama, how to get you to avoid lecturing them after they came clean about something stupid they did, and how to make you cum the hardest.

You made a mental note to come back to this thought, whether them knowing you so well was an advantage or disadvantage, you could care less right now. All you could think about was how good it felt to have a large hand gripping both your wrists behind your back, the other hooked under your right leg, holding you up with firm arms. Another pair of hands was on you too, one hook under your left leg, holding you firmly against his body, as his other hand worked your pussy just right.

"Ohhhh fuckkkk," you garbled, eyes screwed shut and skin shiny under the light of the candles in the room. The feel of his thumb pressing right up against your clit, rubbing messy circles as his middle and index fingers plunged into your drooling cunt made your mind start to go blank.

"There she goes," Smoke cooed, voice rough with need as his hand worked you.

Stack groaned from behind you, rutting his hips gently into you, "I want a turn..."

Smoke bit his bottom lip, eyes moving from watching the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head down to where his hand moved between your shaking thighs.

"Not yet, brother," he purred, "Gotta make her cum at least one more time, then you can play with her all that you want..."

Stack chuckled, lips pressed against your ear, his hot breath making you shiver.

"Shit..." you hissed when Smoke's fingers curled at just the right spot.

"Ohhh," They said in unison, eyes widening, sporting matching grins.

Your hips bucked, chest heaving as you let your head fall back against Stack's shoulder. He cooed, pressing his lips against your skin. He bit you gently, sucking before pulling back to kitten lick an apology onto the growing mark.

"Shit baby," Smoke murmured, admiring your cunt, "This pussy squeezes my fingers so well..."

Forget replying, the words couldn't even find your tongue with how foggy your head was. The only thing keeping you grounded was the slick, wet noises echoing the room as Smoke's fingers worked you closer and closer to coming.

"Oh babydoll, you close?" Stack whispered into your ear, eye gazing down to where your cunt drooled over his twin's fingers.

"Mmm look good enough to eat..."

You couldn't even tell who said that at this point, too lost in the feeling of the swelling in your belly, the pleasure climbing to its peak.

"Wanna cum," you managed to slur out between gasps, sweet sweet oxygen barely making it into your lungs with every quick breath.

"Oh she wants to cum...?" Stack chuckled, "You hear that? She wants it so bad..."

His teasing tone made you buck your hips, feeling his hand splayed against your thigh grip a little harder. Smoke was quiet, focused as his brother whispered teases into your ear, your head lolling to the side.

"Need it bad, baby? Can't handle a couple more minutes? Wanna cum all over my brother's fingers? Gonna let me lick that pussy up after?" you hated how smug he sounded.

Your bleary eyes managed to open to see Smoke in front of you, brows furrowed and lips parted as his hand moved. His gaze slowly swept up over you, locking with your own. It made you gasp the way you saw his pupils blown so large, eyes dark as his own chest rose and fell quickly.

"Let go for me baby," he muttered, "Need to feel you cum for me, need to see you..."

Stack continued his whispers between chuckles and bites of your neck, taking the sensitive skin between his teeth to mark his spot.

Okay so there definitely was more advantages than disadvantages to this "friendship".

[luvvcharxo]

FAVOURITE THING ABOUT YOU.

pairing ─ ⋆ mohawk mark, sinister mark, vitrumite mark, lensless mark, full masked mark x fem!reader.

warnings ─ ⋆ MDNI! smut, suggestive content.

summary ─ ⋆ what do the mark variants find the most attractive about you?

notes ─ ⋆ im changing up my post designs a bit, tell me if u like it! also ive never written for the variants before but i hope this is good!! thank u to the user who requested this. this is pretty short sorry

MOHAWK MARK.

─ one thing this freak loves is boobs. whether your boobs are big or small, he loves them. he loves burying his head between them after a long day, pressing kisses to them when the two of you are cuddling, and he especially loves seeing them bounce when the two of you are having sex. ─ when you wear lower-cut tops that show your cleavage, it turns mark on immediately, but he also gets really protective when he sees another guy eyeing you up. because what the fuck is that dude thinking? you're obviously his, and since that guy doesn't seem to understand, he'll teach him. mark just hopes you won't question why he turns up at your home covered in blood. oops.

SINISTER MARK.

─ if you're submissive and treat him like a god, that's what he wants. what do you expect from him? he doesn't want you to be one of those people that does whatever they want, are you crazy? you're his, and that means he owns you. you should be grateful that he's even kept you alive this long. mark could kill you faster than you could blink. why hasn't he yet? don't ask.

VILTRUMITE MARK.

─ his favourite thing is someone who's breedable (what? he needs to repopulate viltrum) and someone who's kind enough to teach him the ways of earth. also, he secretly likes it when you stand your ground and stand up for yourself. it turns him on, honestly, knowing that you're strong too, even if it's not in a physical way. ─ chubbiness is attractive for him, too. it makes you feel more breedable in a way (freak) and he likes it. mark loves picking you up.

LENSLESS MARK.

─ call him a masochist, but he LOVES if you're a bit bitchy and tough. if you degrade him in bed, even better! that man loves being dominated, so if you enjoy doing it, he'll never leave. never. ─ mark loves when you put him in his place. knowing that he's way stronger than you and could easily kill you, yet you're the one seemingingly in charge, it just turns him on. ─ appearance-wise, he loves muscles. if you're strong (for a human, at least) it gives him a boner. back muscles are hot as fuck for him, too. he loves seeing them ripple when he hits it from the back.

FULL MASKED MARK.

─ he just wants someone to hug, to cuddle. someone he can talk to and who will talk to him. he's not picky, mark just wants someone to love him for him and will show him undying affection, no matter what happens. ─ if you're soft, sweet, and caring, he loves you even more. he'll visit you after a rough day and find refuge in your lap, enjoying the sensation of your nails in his hair, and he'll talk. about everything. afterwards, he feels guilty about ranting too much, but you reassure him that it's fine, that you like listening to him.

notes ─ ⋆ ahhh i hope this was okay. i kinda alternated a bit from the request but yeah. also if u guys cant tell i LOVE mohawk mark, that freak is mine 👅👅 i wanted to include omni-mark bc hes so fine but i dont understand his character enough :(

taglist ─ ⋆ ask to join!

⋆ MASTERLIST

[revelboo]

I am absolutely delighted with how you make es soundwave. He's so scary dog. But at the same time, I feel like he'd be like "no this is My human to torment. You're not allowed to torment them." Kind of vibes.

Humans like "Oh that's the most tsundere blue dorito ive ever seen"

...lol. maybe cool ranch dorito will be his new nickname from me. It fits

xD when me and my friends do Universal, we all scream “angry dorito” on the Transformers ride when we see Screamer. But yeah, this Soundwave would be ferocious if anyone else messed with the human but him.

Son of a Gun Pt 10

ES Soundwave x Reader

• You’re not sure if his cassettes guilted him into giving you a break or if he just doesn’t need you now, but he’d shut himself away in the back leaving you with Lazerbeak, Frenzy, and Ravage. The latter of which has apparently decided you’re a pillow, the heavy, alien panther’s head in your lap as Frenzy and Lazerbeak fill you in on Cybertronian politics. Which seems to mostly be alien gossip about who hates who.

• Servos flexing as he works on the tiny parts, he can’t seem to get his temper under control. That lick of hunger he’d felt at dominating you keeps creeping in at the edge of his processor. And it’s humiliating. Scandalous. Makes him resent you even more. Dropping a part again, he snarls and almost rakes everything off the work table. Almost sets himself back. Hands trembling, he stares at the ruin that’s Rumble. Because Rumble’s more important than his own frustrations or embarrassment.

• Soundwave’s hatred is starting to make sense as Frenzy curls her lip. “I mean, Megatron betrayed us all. For what? Some little squishy alien?” She growls, throwing up her hands. “No offense,” she adds when Lazerbeak makes a noise at her and you shrug. Cause yeah, if your leader just flipped you the proverbial bird to go ally himself with a bunch of aliens? You’d be a bit angry, too. “And then, he was the audacity to join the-” Frenzy’s rant trails off as Soundwave slams open the door to the back room and stalks over.

• “Hey, boss,” Lazerbeak says as Soundwave bends and grabs you by an arm, tugging you out from under Ravage and you cry out, shoving at his servos. Like he’d hurt you. Sees all the cassettes tense even if they stay silent. Watching and judging. Letting go of your arm to send you stumbling, he curls his servos around you, standing and carrying you into the back. Angry at those censoring looks. That his cassettes care if you’re hurt.

• Gritting your teeth as you flex your fingers, you resist the urge to snap at him that he’d nearly pulled your arm out of socket. Because you doubt he’d actually care. And he’s dropping you from a bit too high onto the workable, ignoring when you stumble and your knees hit the surface. Apparently in a worse mood than usual and taking it out on you. Shoulders hunching, you refuse to cry in front of him or give him the satisfaction of complaining. Pushing yourself up, you walk over to the mess of parts and wires and wait for instructions. Because this isn’t for him, let him hate you, but you’re going to try your hardest to save Rumble for his siblings. Not for Soundwave.

Previous

[wosospacegirl]

loved the latest alexia fic haha

i had an idea for us stem girlies (not wanting to study virology btw, so fkn real)

i was thinking a kika fic where readers a bio/stem student & is trying to teach kika something & likewise kika (and the rest of the younger barça girls) tries to teach r football

Summary: Y/N’s been buried in virus replication pathways for hours. Kika’s had enough.

A/N: for the STEM girls who haven’t seen the sun in 3 business days and need a footballer girlfriend to drag them outside - Everything written here was taken from my own notes...I hope they are right, or else it means I failed my own exam.

..

Y/n had been studying for what felt like seven years straight. 

Realistically, it had only been four hours, but time blurred somewhere between drawing replication cycles and muttering the difference between RNA-dependent RNA polymerase and reverse transcriptase.

Kika had been patient. She really had. She brought her water, kissed her temple, and even sat silently nearby, scrolling through TikTok while Y/n ranted about capsids and envelope proteins. 

But now it was too much.

“...and that’s why enveloped viruses are more susceptible to disinfectants,” Y/n concluded, still scribbling away. “You would’ve thought that the envelope would make them more resistant, right?”

There was a beat of silence.

“You realise we were just talking about lunch?” Kika said.

Y/n blinked. “Were we?”

“You brought up protein bars, and then somehow transitioned into protein coats. Again. That’s like the third time.”

“Okay, but it’s actually a really–”

“No.”

Kika stood up with the kind of quiet menace only a very tired girlfriend could summon.

“You need to get out of this apartment.”

“I’m busy! I have an exam, Francisca.”

“You need to touch some grass.”

Y/n gasped, clutching her notes to her chest. 

“You sound like my mom.. Are you okay? Did a neurodegenerative virus get to your brain?” Y/n  squinted her eyes, talking in a very mysterious and suspicious voice. “It could be rabies.”

Kika raised an eyebrow. “Por favor, put on some gym clothes.”

“No.”

“You’re coming with me to the training ground.”

“I’m not playing football.”

“You are, just a bit. You’re going to run, breathe some fresh air. Maybe learn how to use your legs again.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “I feel like you want to sabotage my academic life.”

Kika deadpanned, “I just want to have a normal conversation with my girlfriend again.”

Half an hour later, Y/n was in mismatched gym clothes, standing awkwardly on the sidelines of the Barça training pitch while Kika passed her a ball.

“Okay,” Kika said. “Basics. Pass it back.”

Y/n kicked it directly into Kika’s shin.

Kika didn’t even flinch. “Right. That was bad.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/n muttered. “I use my brain, not my feet.”

“You used your foot just now,” Kika deadpanned. “You’re just not good at keeping control of it.”

Before Y/n could come up with a scathing reply involving cortical motor neurons, a trio of voices interrupted from behind her.

“Hi amiga,” Jana grinned, jogged up with Pina and Vicky flanking her. “That pass was criminal.”

“Terrible,” Vicky added.

Pina nodded solemnly. “You’re bad, bad.”

Y/n crossed her arms. “Wow, thank you. So much support.”

Kika smirked from the sidelines.

“She made me come here,” Y/n gestured vaguely toward her girlfriend, “because apparently I’m ‘studying too much’ and need to ‘go outside like a normal person.’”

The girls blinked.

“What are you studying?” Jana asked.

Y/n brightened instantly, like a switch flipped. 

“Oh! I'm doing an exam on virus replication pathways, and it’s super interesting because…wait–okay, so you know HIV, right?”

All three nodded slowly, unsure where this was going.

“Well, it’s a retrovirus, which means it uses reverse transcriptase to turn its RNA into DNA inside the host cell. And that DNA actually integrates into the host’s genome and–wait, let me draw it.”

Somehow, within ten minutes, they’d migrated off the pitch and into the tactical analysis centre. 

A whiteboard was pulled over. Y/n commandeered a marker, drawing the double-stranded DNA meticulously.

“This is the viral envelope, this is the capsid, oh, and DpRd-RT is like–the main enzyme you have to remember, alright? So now we have a full DNA–”

Pina was blinking rapidly.

Vicky was furrowing her brows like she was trying to understand it, really trying.

Jana had started taking notes on her phone.

Kika walked in fifteen minutes later, looking for her girlfriend.

“Amor,” Kika said slowly, “why is my team being held hostage by you and– ai meu Deus��is that a virus?”

Y/n turned around, completely unfazed. “I’m teaching them how HIV uses the host's RNA polymerase II to transcribe proviral DNA.”

Kika stared. “...This started with a bad pass.”

“And now it’s a public health seminar!” Y/n grinned. “Honestly? You're welcome.”

[no1blacksapphirefan]

Hi 👁👅👁! So other than crk I also play other games like hsr and stuff like that so can I please get self aware hcs where the cookies hear us gushing on and on about characters from other games?

Fellow HSR player? Me too haha, fun fact actually. My main blog/account is actually a HSR based one, themed after my fav character from the game as well. A sundae for anyone who can figure it out/j

Shadow Milk Huh!? His ears perk up and he's quick to try and listen in, it's not that he's jealous, he already knows he's your favourite in this game but you play other games? Who is it, he's curious. Is it someone like him? Or a character with a different personality.

Hmm, Gallagher? After hearing you talk about him more, he's become more interested. Tarot card symbolism, he's a fictional character...within a game? And he's invited other characters to all tie in together to save a place? Now he wants to meet this Gallagher, he doubts they'd really see eye to eye but meeting someone who played a part in a bigger plan? That'll be interesting.

Though with how much you talk about him, he doubts a meeting will matter, he's getting all the information he needs from your voice. A much better way to learn about someone in his opinion (he's bias)

Pure Vanilla He's interested to hear about this other game you play, listening intently as you rant about it, well more specifically a character. He'd love to meet this character that has also peaked your interest.

What's his name? Luocha? Oh he seems like a nice ma-...what do you mean he has a God in his coffin? Well...he isn't gonna judge you at all for characters you like but he did not expect that bit of information to be true. He's a bit more intrigued by the game though, he wants to know of the other characters you seem to favour.

Hearing you talk on and on about your favourite characters makes him want to listen, he already knows most in his "game" and if he doesn't. He can easily meet them. But hearing about other games and their characters? How interesting...

Black Sapphire It takes him a moment before realising you're talking about a different game rather than theirs. He doesn't exactly mind though, now he can take what you say and talk about said character too as if they're a cookie as well. He's not technically lying, the character is real...just...not in their world.

Besides, who wouldn't want to know about a "cookie" trying to recreate a, what was it? Emanator? Ruan Mei is her name right? Her story seems fascinating and perfect to tell all cookie kind, he's sure it'll get some cookies scared and others excited and he's gonna love to see the two of them argue.

He'd listen to you talk about whichever character peaks your interest any day, he won't get jealous that quickly. Besides, he's probably heard you rant about him to your friends before anyways. As long as he still knows he's one of your favourites. It's all good.

Fire Spirit What's that? Gotta speak up, oh a new game? He wants to know all about. If it's peaked his beloved "God" interest to the point of you gushing about it. It must be amazing. And he's interested in hearing about the characters as well.

Oh that Kafka girl seems quite interesting. A woman who can't feel fear? He'd love to test how far that lack of fear goes, you said she wanted to experience it right? He'd love to show of his flames and see how much of it she can handle. Besides, he's sure you'd love to have 2 of your favourites on the same screen. You probably talk about him when you're playing that other game anyways.

He'll love to hear you talk about more characters, especially ones that seem like they'd enjoy the heat! Haha, he may not be able to meet them. Perhaps they're not self-aware like himself but oh does he want too.

Frost Queen she doesn't care at first. Not that she doesn't enjoy hearing your rambles but she doesn't exactly have any feelings towards who you talk about and the game you're now talking about. What matters to her is that you still play "her" game and favour her.

She can't help but listen to you speak of various characters backstory though, especially when it seems like the characters past has put you in distraught. Jingliu being one of them. She'll admit, her backstory is quite interesting, and she's strong. While she hasn't seen how she fights, your description shall be enough for now. She's especially interested in the Mara struck bit of her.

While, unlike most of the others, she wouldn't be actively listening to your rants, certain characters can and will make her ears perk up as she'll quickly come and see what the news is about.

[dazedantics]

Meeting the Graysons

(Ha I don't remember where I was going with this but it's been sitting in my drafts for a while)

There isn't much to see working behind the register at your local grocery store. Mostly you just sit there picking at your nails till a customer comes up and you have to print that friendly smile on your face. But there are days where you get to see some interesting people.

Like the family of eight that comes in all rowdy and shrieking as their tired mother pushes the cart. Or the quiet old man with his pampered ol' bulldog who never says a word and has a look in his eye that you just know means he's committed something long ago and would hunt you down if you ever found out. Or the entitled old ladies who point their sharp maroon nails at you while they drone on about why they should be given some big discount that you don't particularly hear word for word. Or that clean cut older gentleman who smiles under his thick mustache and says something so out of date but his voice is just so deep and dreamy that can't even remember what your name even is anymore.

Your bubble pops abruptly as you notice his ocean blue eyes watching you for longer than necessary. I mean, really, what ever will you do if he's to keep his attention so dashingly on you like that? Oh, wait- he's handing you money.

Oops.

Let's just check what exactly it costs again on the screen. That shirt looks very tight around his chest. Did he buy a lot? Around his arms too. You didn't even notice you'd been scanning and bagging his items the whole time. He's very muscular isn't he? What did he buy? Not that you'd mind finding out just how strong he was. Was he the fresh only, organic, let's save the planet type of guy? That's a very nice ring on his left hand's finger. Or was he- wait. OH MY GOD HE'S MARRIED?!

Nooo! How are you supposed to get that fairy tale ending now? He's supposed to be that hot corporate type who'd fall in love with you and whisk you away from your job to live the posh life with him! Cause he'd say "you're much to gorgeous to be working in a place like this!" And honestly, who could argue with that logic? Then he'd- oh, wait he's leaving. Out the door annnnd ... gone.

Dang it.

Well, there go your chances of living your dreams. Back to the same old creepsters tweakin' out in the back of the store. You didn't even catch the guy's name.

Oh well.

At least you'd have some fantasy fuel to live on for a week.

And so, you sit there again. Sighing and dissociating as the days go on, customers coming and going, paying as much attention to you as you do to them. Counting the minutes till you can ditch this place once and for all. And ... oh look, some nerd is stammering trying to buy something.

He's ... actually kinda cute. In a "couldn't exactly sweep you off your feet but could still make you swoon" typa way.

You gave him the store's default greeting. Definitely nice to look at, boyish charm exuded from his button up/sweatshirt combo. You scanned his items steadily. Yeah ... you could see a sweet future with this guy. You smiled as he started going on about something you hoped you wouldn't need to give an answer to. A few small picnics in the park, bookstore and museum dates, listening to him rant about stuff you don't understand. You nodded politely as he kept going on, digging into his pockets. Ooh, or maybe you'd have to be the one whisking him away from from his mundane life, flustering him with those smooth lines you've heard and making him be the one to imagine all the scenarios that you'd do, staring into his chocolaty brown eyes all day. And also- wait. Oops ... there he goes too.

And without a name either.

Maybe you should start to introduce yourself first, so whatever dreamboat you meet next feels inclined to give theirs.

You end up doing that for a bit, but a few of the customers remind you why you're always hiding your name tag under your work vest. I mean, couldn't the weirdos who stalk you from beyond the sliding doors be good-looking? At least then it would be easier for you to develop stockholm syndrome if they decide to ever knock you out behind the dumpsters at night.

Oh, another customer.

You scan her items and ... dang it! Why have so many of your customers been much more charming than you lately? This woman was all sleek business on the outside but sweet and considerate as she speaks to you. She sifts through her purse, rambling on about her family. Figures. Of course she'd have a family. Oh, but that means she probably prides herself on being wise, so maybe she'd be willing to give you life advice? You smile and nod, not sure what exactly you could say to relate to her story. Yeah, cause then she'd invite you to her house so she could be thorough with her explanations. She laughs softly, coffee brown eyes accompanied by tired bags under them. Ooh, and then you could offer to help her out with her kids and stuff! Then she'd be all grateful for you and thennnn- there she goes too.

Aw man, you thought with all her chatting she'd be those types to stick around long after getting her things bagged.

And no name again too.

Are you always destined to drop the ball before you ever even picked it up?

Alas, till one of those three romancers of yours decided to visit this store again, you had to make due with the delicately memory of them, carefully preserved in your head.

And hey, maybe you'd go out one day and run into them again.

And you wouldn't be silenced by your corporate hospitality. No, this time, you'd get their names.

And then you'd be able further lay out the plot of your heavily detailed imagined future with them.

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 with high maintenance s/o

A/N: Lost that ask in the void probably but this was requested by an anon 😭

Seungcheol: He’s high-key into it. He’ll really buy you five perfumes for one outfit because he knows how you love to have options. Carries your bag, memorizes your skincare steps, and pre-orders your faves before you even ask. The man lives to spoil you.

Jeonghan: Master manipulator meets diva energy; a match made in heaven. You want all the attention? He’ll give it, but he expects it back. He’s playful about it, teasing, “You’re so high-maintenance, how do I even keep up?” But he still loves being your only person. Lovesssss to buy you random things and loves how you take care of yourself.

Joshua: Smiles through it but definitely needs a manual at first lol. He adjusts quickly though. You want to look fancy for brunch? He’s coordinating his outfit. You’re picky about your drinks? He’ll memorize your order. If it makes you happy, he’s down, becaussseeeeeee, you’re his priority. He loves it that you know what you deserve and don't settle for anything less.

Jun: He actually finds you fascinating and loves you for iy. You take two hours to get ready, you'll find him watching you get ready. He’s supportive, maybe even starts copying you lmao. You want to look like royalty? Let me help you pick your crown; prime example of this behaviour.

Hoshi: In the beginning of the relationship, he was very confused but committed. “Wait… we’re late because your lashes weren’t symmetrical?” He’s learning on the job but he tries so hard. Gets overly proud when he finally gets your coffee right. Always enthusiastic: “You look like a queen!!” his queen.

Wonwoo: Ykw? Chill king with the drama [slaying] queen 💅🏻 Your energy overwhelms him a bit, but he secretly likes that you bring noise and color into his monotonous world. He’ll listen patiently to you rant about hair serum vs oil like it’s life-or-death. Buys you gifts with zero complaint [and he actually wants to buy you things you like].

Woozi: Internal screaming intensifies. You’re the opposite of his minimalist lifestyle, but he adapts because he cares. “Why do you need thirty throw pillows?” But he’ll fluff them anyway. He’ll get grumpy sometimes, but his love language is lowkey acts of service. Expect him to custom-make you a personalized closet system just because he can 🤷🏻‍♀️

Dokyeom: Thinks it’s adorable, will hype you up so much. “You’re so picky about everything… that’s so cute!!” He loves and so into pampering you and making you happy. Carries your shopping bags, takes outfit pics from every angle, and sings to you while you do your 10-step routine.

Mingyu: He’ll do your skincare with you. He’s got the patience for your outfits, the taste for your aesthetic, and he lives to treat you like royalty. “You want another lip gloss? Cool, let’s get six.” He’s your chauffeur, chef, stylist, and biggest fan. He's a loser for you fr, mark my words.

Minghao: Absolutely supports it—as long as it’s within lines. He doesn’t mind your preferences, but if it’s for show or insecurity, he’ll call it out. “If this makes you happy, I’ll support it. But don’t feel like you have to be perfect for anyone, not even me.” Will treat you with respect and spoil you in his refined, minimalist way.

Seungkwan: Overwhelmed, but will do it all anyway. You want to go to three stores for the right nail polish shade? “I—okay, let me grab my bag.” Complains like a sitcom husband, but deep down he loves being needed. Will absolutely turn into your glam team. “You want curls or waves today, baby??”

Vernon: Baffled, blinks a lot, He’s like, “You need four lip oils? What do they even do?” But he’s chill. He won’t always understand the need, but he’ll support you. Might even help you compare filters for selfies. “You like the third one? Cool, post it.”

Dino: You confuse the hell out of him at first, but he adapts. This man is willing to learn. You want luxury, so he’s reading reviews. You like constant attention? He’s there. High-maintenance doesn’t scare him, instead, it motivates him. If that’s what you need, he'll figure it out.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

we need to talk more about Killer and Papyrus relationship and Killer wants.

So when he tells Color what he truly wants he mentions wanting his brother back first, then his friends, then his old life, and then about being "Sans" again. I just want to know why is it that Killer is never written as going back to his timelime the life he wants so badly.

I find it interesting that most drawing or comics with Killer and Papyrus. Killer is either turned slightly or the comic breaks stop before his soul. You rarely see his soul when he interacts with Papyrus and I can't help bit wonder if that's because of Stage 1 and Stage 2 and being unsure of which stage he would be on during those moments.

Almost anytime he is shown with Papyrus it shows us how much he cares about him. The comic where he kills him is a bit of an outlier he seems to release all his pent up frustrations and feeling like its something he must do or he wants to do but the moment he does so he breaks down even vomits. He doesn't like Chara wearing his scarf no matter how many times he's killed. Sees his brother in every Papyrus he meets. Often seems to make him unstable like with the comic on stage 4 and during the fight with swap Papyrus he even cries. Drawings always show him pushing Papyrus away or just turned away with a sad face. He considers Papyrus his best friend even in Stage 2. When, he left Papyrus it seemed he had tears in his eyes, his hands were shaking as they went to wrap around Papyrus and return the hug before suddenly deciding to push him away instead and run away. The Killer captured by Nightmare reset just so his brother could have a happy ending then was going to erase himself either because he doesn't think he matters which he does think Papyrus doesn't need him anymore or because he just doesn't trust himself or because he knows Papyrus wouldn't be happy in a world where Sans just died no he had to delete himself so Papyrus wouldn't have to mourn someone whose never coming back. Its just so akdjaoykdhf. Let him see his brothers, his friends the world he knew. He doesn't even seem to like other au's. Why must he always live in the omega timeline if he's rescued or in Nightmare castle if they make him good can't he have his world and his brother for once. He cares about Papyrus the most, Alphys the second best I would say and probably Grillby third. Toriel somewhere between Alphys and Grillby wether at the front, the middle or back. I say Alphys because she's in two comics. When he pushes everyone away to protect himself its Alphys and Papyrus. She's the only one he even took a moment to really talk to with Grillby and Papyrus it was to vent his frustration and just kill them almost immediately while with Alphys he had a bit of a breakdown then killed her.

Why does no one focus on the people in his world, the relations he had there. Like we get so many hints and people just brush them away and only want Killer to ever be happy with the Bad Sanses or with Color in the Omega Timeline why can't he be happy with his old friends and family one of the only things he admitted to even wanting. Sorry for the rant.

~Musical Anon

Because he refuses to actually go back. Notice how in the comics with Nightmare and the cats, Killer talks about how he thinks the others are in their own timelines living their lives, Nightmare asks him why he isn’t back home at his, and Killer doesn’t answer?

He can’t go back home, he feels. He wants to, but he can’t. And it’s not just guilt and shame, it’s that profound distrust in himself. So long as his SOUL is the way it is, where anyone can do what Nightmare does and use him for their plans and desires, he believes no one will ever be safe around him.

That they couldn’t even begin to trust him—why do you think he’s so insistent that Color not trust him when he’s in Stage 2–when he’s “like that”—or that Color kill him if he ever goes into Stage 3?

Not to mention how he hides and keeps Stage 4 a secret—and it’s shown very clearly that, when Killer is in Stage 4, he has absolutely no qualms about who or what he kills.

We all saw how brutal and violent Stage 4 can be, and that’s without mentioning Stage 3 being described as “crazy” and the examples we’re shown of Killer being violent towards others while in Stage 2.

He will kill Papyrus if he’s triggered into Stage 4—Stage 4 has done it many times before.

It’s because he loves his brother so much that tries to remove himself from his life—thinking he’s somehow protecting him or keeping him safe by making these choices for Papyrus.

Assuming Papyrus doesn’t need him anymore, wouldn’t want him and shouldn’t trust him—but these are all assumptions he makes without talking to Papyrus even once. I have to wonder if he even actually remembers how to talk to Papyrus anymore.

I think Killer in Stage 1 needs to rebuild that trust in himself and the people around him, including Papyrus, before he’d even begin to feel that he’s anything anyone could trust— let alone love or want.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s hesitant to even touch or hug Color and almost excessively gentle with it, withdrawing quickly and likely has a tendency to keep his hands to himself — given how he couldn’t even bring himself to touch Dream while in Stage 1, even when he couldn’t tell if Dream was even real or not.

All in all—i don’t think immediately running back to Papyrus or his timeline would help Killer at all. Because he’d spend his entire time there living in fear of himself, walking on eggshells, trying to avoid triggers all while dealing with nightmares, dreams, and memories of all the times he’s hurt everyone in the Underground. All the times they’ve hurt him.

And he’d be alone with those memories, that pain and guilt, that shame and confusion. No one else remembers Killer—they remember Sans.

And feeling alone with all of it, the “only one” being hurt, the “only one” who remembers, is what started his resentment and jealousy of Papyrus way back then in the first place.

More than being afraid of killing or hurting anyone again, especially his brother, I do believe Stage 1 would be plagued by the fears that—if he goes back to that place, where it all started—that he’d start believing he wants to kill them again.

If that’s actually true or not doesn’t really matter—because Killer in Stage 1 believes it is, and could potentially remember the beginning of everything.

The anger, the jealousy, betrayal and hurt. But more importantly—the confusion. How none of it really felt real, how his mind didn’t feel under his control, how he thoughts didn’t feel like his. How his emotions didn’t feel like they belonged to him.

He thinks he can only go back to Papyrus if he’s “fixed.” If he’s Sans again. If he’s the same old person he was, as if everything that happened never did.

But what if that’s not possible? What if he can never go back to being that person? Does that mean he cannot have his brother or even his old friends back at all, because they are not his, if he is not Sans?

No, of course not. Because his brother and his old friends are their own people, who can and should be given the chance to make their own informed decisions on if they want him back in their lives or not.

And that’s why I like to think Color definitely encourages Killer to reach how to home, to Papyrus, even if it’s not an in person meeting yet—such as a letter or a phone call. Even if only to just let the poor man know his missing brother is alive, even if not quite okay. Even if not quite the brother he remembers.

Color definitely wouldn’t force Killer into this, but I do think Killer’s opportunity to reach out to his loved ones who remember and want him back is something Color has wanted for himself for what feels like longer than he’s even really been alive.

His family doesn’t know who he even is, and at this point it looks unlikely they ever will. He will always be a stranger to them—he’d never wish that on or want that for his friend, especially if they also want Killer back.

Even if the moment is bittersweet and brings up fears of being abandoned or forgotten again in Color, I think he’d also be both proud of Killer, and happy that he finally managed to help at least one Killer get here. Writing letters to his brother, making puns and laughing with Toriel over the phone, sharing information about soul research with Alphys.

Not every Killer was able to live long enough to experience this for themselves.

Also, a little off topic but it’s something I’ve wanted to talk about for a bit, but I do believe that Papyrus is the only person Killer in Stage 2 has ever felt anything like resembling guilt, regret, or remorse for the pain he’s caused him or for what he did to him.

Of course, it’s described as Killer “feeling sick” when he remembers what he did to Papyrus, so i doubt he recognizes what this emotion is or what it means when in Stage 2.

In contrast, when it comes to Color, I think Killer in Stage 2 feels frustrated or uncomfortable when he recognizes that he’s hurt or caused Color pain, knows he should feel bad about that, but he just doesn’t or can’t.

It’s those exact feelings of frustration and discomfort, as well as the fact that he doesn’t like being the reason why Color is hurt/upset and doesn’t want to hurt Color, that he puts in effort to either make it up to him or to try and figure out what caused the pain in order to try and not do it again.

He doesn’t feel guilty about it, maybe doesn’t even fully understand the extent of Color’s emotions, but he can see that something he did caused Color pain. So he tries to put in the effort to care and make it up to him.

[random-thot-generator]

Love Thy Frenemy + Ch. 12

TWELVE: Easily Torn, Not Easily Mended

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM READER

Summary: What is it they say about best laid plans? Well, your plan goes horribly wrong and just keeps getting worse. And worse... Ah, but chin up, dear reader. It's always darkest before the dawn.

Tags/Warnings: profanity, hints of spice but nothing explicit, angst... so much angst, hurt/no comfort

(Notes: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.)

mdni banner & divider: @saradika-graphics

CHAPTER TWELVE

“From this new and intimate perspective, she learned a simple, obvious thing she had always known, and everyone knew; that a person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn, not easily mended.”

― Ian McEwan, Atonement

-

Ollie's been casting worried looks your way all day.

He can tell that something has gone terribly wrong, but you don't have it in you to tell him. Reliving all that had happened that morning by speaking of it would break you, and you're barely holding it together as it is.

Tears keep welling up out of nowhere, and you have to rush off to the loo or the kitchen or the supply closet to hide until you get yourself sorted out. You try to avoid Ollie as best you can.

While restocking the bar, the memory of how Peach wrapped herself around Simon suddenly pops into your mind. It leads to you imagining what the two of them must be doing at that very moment, and just the thought of it has your gorge rising. You end up in the loo on your knees, retching up your morning coffee and toast into the toilet.

By noon, Ollie has retreated to his office, and you take your lunch break. The idea of eating makes your stomach churn, so you grab a water and your phone and go out the back entrance.

The humidity hits you like a wall as soon as you step outside, and you immediately start to sweat. Flipping over an empty bucket, you drag it into the meager shade of the building and plop down with a tired sigh.

Pretending to be alright while your world is falling apart is exhausting. At this point, you're struggling to keep your head straight, your thoughts a jumbled mess. The feeling only gets worse when you open your phone and see that you've got a voicemail from Simon.

Your hands are shaking as your thumb hovers over the screen, debating whether or not to listen to his voicemail. In the end, you chicken out and call Fiona, instead. You tell yourself you're calling her for a distraction, a bit of idle chat to take your mind off of things. Yet as soon as you hear her voice, the floodgates open and the whole wretched story comes spilling out.

Needless to say, she's furious on your behalf. She rants for a solid five minutes, threatening to bring doom and destruction down on the heads of Simon and Peach, which does make you feel somewhat better. It's enough to stop your tears, at least.

"I can't believe he stood there an' let that manky tart call ya his bleedin' housekeeper! Swear it, love. Say the word an' I'll geld the fucker!"

You want to get angry about it, like Fiona, to rage and rant and throw things, but all you feel is heartbroken, a sadness that settles deep in the bones and aches like a wound. It hurts; it hurts so much, and it makes you feel sick.

Sick down to your very soul.

>>>>>>>>>>

-

You're still a mess by the time Ollie opens the door for business, but at least you've stopped spontaneously bursting into tears. You're so emotionally drained that you feel numb, working behind the bar like a robotic automaton. It's only when Ollie asks if 'Riley' is coming to pick you up after your shift that you show true signs of life.

In a dead panic, you grab your phone and dart into the kitchen, muttering, "shitshitshit..." as you open your texts. Typing out a quick message with trembling hands, you send it off to Simon and pray it reaches him in time.

[YOU]: No need to pick me up. Already have a ride. TTYL

You fret as you wait, half-expecting the phone to ring at any moment. That text is vague enough to set him off, to have him calling or charging down here to demand more intel. He's protective and suspicious of everyone and...

He's not answering back.

You wait for a minute, then two, then five, both dreading and hoping for a response, but it never comes. Your text sits there in its little speech bubble, unanswered and unread. It's like a knife to the gut, eviscerates you and hollows you out.

After ten minutes, you give up. You guess he's too busy to be bothered with you right now and, oh! Does that cut deep.

A nasty thought suddenly occurs to you. There was probably no need for you to text Simon at all. He must still be so wrapped up in Peach that he's completely forgotten about you. Hell, he forgot about you the moment he saw her standing in his doorway. You never had a chance.

Feeling more despondent than ever, you put away your phone and return to the bar.

>>>>>>>>>>

Fiona arrives a bit early for her shift, coming behind the bar where you're filling a pint for old Ned. You slide it across the bar to him and then shift your gaze to Fi.

"Christ, luv, ya look like hell."

You shrug, because you know this already. You're hurt because Simon hasn't called or texted back. Being forgotten is so much worse than simply being ignored. When you purposefully ignore someone, you're still acknowledging them, in a sense. You're still thinking about them, even if you choose not to engage with them. But being forgotten?

That means you haven't crossed their mind at all. Not once.

Fiona purses her lips, narrowing her eyes at you in assessment. She's gauging your pain, sussing out your mental state. She already knows that emotionally you're a wreck, but she still needs to determine how you're holding up. She doesn't seem very encouraged by what she sees.

"Have ya heard from the blighter?"

Your heart sinks at the question. "No, I..." You shake your head, then pause, remembering his voicemail. "Wait. Actually, he did call me earlier today and left a message. I've not listened to it yet. I was too chicken," you admit.

You take out your phone, feeling nervous, uncertain. "Should I listen to it?"

"It'll drive ya mad 'til ya do," she says with a sigh. "All I can say is, it better be a feckin' apology."

With Fi standing beside you, you finally gather the courage to listen to what Simon had to say. Pulling up the voicemail, you hit the PLAY arrow and tilt the phone so Fiona can listen in.

The first thing you hear is Simon's rumbling chuckle, along with a husky female giggle in the background.

(Simon speaking away from the phone) "Get off me, ya muppet. 'M try'na leave Dee a message."

(Peach giggling in the background but close) "Tell her I wore ya out this morning, so I'm takin' ya out to feed ya. Gotta rebuild your strength for round two later."

(Simon huffing a laugh) "Shuddup..."

...(rustling sounds)...

"Oi, Dee. 'Me an' Peach 'r goin' out f'lunch in Blackheath. She's wantin' t'check out some uh the shops, too, so we'll prob'ly be there all bloody afternoon. Should be back in time tuh pick ya up after work, though. Oh, an' Peach is gonna spend the night. Thought I'd warn ya. Later."

(click)

It feels like an invisible hand has reached into your chest and is squeezing your heart. It thuds hard and erratic, the sound loud in your ears. Your phone slips out of your numb fingers and hits the floor, breaking apart. You don't bother picking up the pieces.

Fiona has moved down to the end of the bar, whispering at Ollie's ear with a seething expression on her face. Ned and the other old geezers look on with keen interest, muttering their speculations back and forth. All the voices sound garbled, like your head's under water.

Your throat constricts, your next exhale wheezing out. You can't breathe in here. You feel like you're suffocating. You need to get out, go outside where there's more space, more air.

The quickest route is through the kitchen, so you slam through the swinging door and rush for the back exit. Stumbling out into the alley, you manage to get out just in time, before you heave up the water you drank earlier. You gag and spit and sob, bracing your arms against the wall. You drop your head, panting, and try to count your breaths.

Eventually, you hear the exit door creak open, but don't bother to see who's come out. Footsteps crunch on bits of broken glass, grinding them into sandy grit. A pair of red Converse appear. Fiona.

"Christ, Dee..."

You straighten, arms wrapping around your torso, as your eyes raise to meet hers. She blanches, hurting because you're hurt, and her bottom lip trembles before she wills it to stop.

"C'mere," she whispers, and wraps her arms around you. "I'm so sorry, luv. I can't believe Riley would just—" She bites off her words, shaking her head. "Never mind. Him an' tha' homewreckin' slag can both feck off."

Sniffling, you pull away to look at her, panic dawning on your face.

"What am I going to do, Fi? I can't go home. I can't be around them. If I see them together, I'll..."

The rest of your words dissolve into tears.

"I know, luv," she murmurs, rubbing your back to soothe you. "Ya come stay with me an' mum t'night. Hell, stay fer as long as ya want. We'll make do."

You sniff, clinging to her, beyond grateful for her offer. "Are you sure?"

Fi scoffs. "Like ya hafta ask." She keeps on hugging you, tight and fierce. "We'll get this sorted out, luv. Don't ya worry."

Heaving a sigh, you draw away to look at her, still hurting but resigned to it now.

"This sucks," you sniffle, your breath hitching. "I don't even have a change of clothes or my toothbrush."

"Then we'll go by Riley's an' get it."

You rear back, shaking your head. "No! I can't, Fi! I don't want to see—"

"Shh... Easy, now," she croons, trying to calm you. "I know ya don't want to see him, but just listen fer a second. Riley said him an' Peach were goin' t'Blackheath, so they may still be there. I can drive ya by his place t'see if they're still gone. If they are, we'll go in, grab ya some clothes and get out."

You bite your lip, considering it. "But what if they're back?"

She thinks about it for a moment, then smirks. "If they are, I'll have Ollie give Riley a call. He can talk 'em into comin' down to the Dog fer a pint. We'll wait fer 'em t'show up, then go back to Riley's and grab yer stuff."

You give her a worried frown, uncertain. "Do you think Ollie will do it, though? He might not want to get involved, and I don't want to drag him into the middle of it."

"Pfft!" Fi scoffs. "He saw how upset ya were, an' he's none too pleased with Riley right now. If I ask him, he'll do it."

Steeling your nerves, you take in a deep breath and blow it out. "Alright then. Let's go."

>>>>>>>>>>

It's just past six when Fiona turns down Simon's street and cruises past the line of row houses. A few dim lights glow in the windows of neighboring houses, but Simon's windows are dark.

"I don't see any lights on inside his flat, but his truck's here," Fi mutters, head turning as she drives past it.

You peer out at the line of cars parked at the curb. "I don't see Peach's rental car, though. She'd be parked behind his truck if she was here."

Fiona speeds up, does a U-turn, and goes back for another look. "Check all the cars, t'be sure," she says. "Riley said he was goin' with her to Blackheath. That makes me think they took her car."

After another drive-by, you still don't spot her rental. "Her car's not here."

"Let's do this, then."

Fiona parks up the street and shuts off the motor. Taking your hand, she looks you in the eye. "Are ya ready?"

You blow out a shaky breath and nod. "I'm ready. Let's hurry and get this over with."

You feel like a thief, slipping through the gate and creeping up Simon's walk. You've got your door keys already in hand, casting around furtive glances. You know you're being ridiculous—you live here, you're not breaking and entering—but the thought of Simon and Peach catching you here and confronting you is your current, worst nightmare.

Fi stands as lookout while you unlock the door and turn off the alarm, then she hurries inside after you and closes the door. She grins at you in the gloom of the foyer, her eyes glinting.

"See? Nothin' tuh worry about."

You open your mouth to reply, then nearly swallow your tongue when a voice at the top of the stairs calls out softly, "Who's there? Is that you, Deedee?"

No. Fucking. Way.

You both gawk as Peach comes padding down the stairs, dressed in a short, red kimono with her long, black hair hanging damp around her shoulders. She stops on the bottom step, propping a hand on her hip as she looks you both over.

"Simon was wonderin' where ya were. He tried callin', but ya didn't answer, so he tried the pub. His friend told him you were out with Fiona. I'm guessin' that's you?" she asks Fi.

You feel Fi tense up beside you and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. Side-eyeing you, she huffs out an irritated breath but maintains her cool.

"Yeah," she mutters and crosses her arms.

Peach smiles as she takes the last step down and saunters past you like she owns the place. Heading towards the kitchen, she calls over her shoulder, "Gettin' a drink. You guys want one?"

"Where's your rental car?" you blurt out, following her. "I didn't see it parked out front."

She giggles, flapping her hand. "Ah, we had to leave it in Blackheath and take an Uber home. After me an' Si went shopping, we stopped at a pub for a drink and ended up having too good of a time."

"Who the feck is Si?" Fi whispers to you as you trail Peach into the kitchen.

"Later," you mouth back.

Peach opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of water. "Sure ya don't want one?" she asks, standing in the bright vee of its light.

The sash of her robe has come undone, the kimono parted to reveal what she's wearing underneath. You nearly choke at the sight.

She's wearing a sheer, red, see-through nightie with a matching G-string that does little to hide her lithe body. Her pert breasts are pushed out proudly, hard nipples plain to see through the gauzy material.

She sees you both staring and laughs at the look on your faces. "You like?" she teases, her grin lewd. "Pretty hot, right? Si helped me pick it out. Man's got good taste."

Fiona makes a gurgling, choked sound in the back of her throat, her eyes bugging as she turns to glare at you.

You feel sick and avert your eyes. "We should go," you croak.

"Where's Riley?" Fi grits out between her clenched teeth.

"Fi, no," you hiss, shaking your head.

Peach cracks open her water and takes a slow sip, then tilts her head, giving you a sly little grin. "In bed, asleep. He needs the rest, so be quiet if ya go upstairs. Don't want to wake him."

You're shaking, wanting nothing more than to launch yourself over the island and rip out her silky, black hair. Fiona grips your elbow and pulls you back towards the kitchen door.

"C'mon, Dee," she mutters lowly, disgust plain on her face. "Let's get yer stuff and get the hell outta here."

Leading you up the stairs, Fiona practically drags you down the hall to your room, muttering a steady stream of curses under her breath the whole way. You come up short in front of Simon's bedroom door, tempted to barge in and just scream at him. You feel like you could scream until your throat is bloody and raw, and then you would scream some more. Instead your tongue stays glued to the roof of your mouth.

Fiona sees you staring and gives your arm a sharp tug, drawing your attention. "He's not worth it, Dee. He's not worth another second of yer time. Now, c'mon an' pack yer things. We need t'get outta here before I do somethin' that'll get me arrested."

The two of you manage to pack two large duffels plus a carry-on bag with all your toiletries in record time. You're just coming out of the loo into the hall when Peach appears at the top of the stairs. She sashays towards you with a smug smile, pausing at Simon's door as you approach.

"Are ya leavin' now?"

"Yeah," you rasp, choking on your own impotent fury. "Just need to get my bags from my room."

"Okay. See ya around, I guess." She twiddles her fingers in a mock wave before she opens Simon's door. "Be sure an' lock up on your way out, will ya, Deedee?" she says, then shuts the door with a soft click, not waiting for a response.

"Feckin' cunt!" Fiona hisses, taking a step towards Simon's door, before you yank her back and pull her into your room.

"Just leave it alone, Fi," you warble out, fighting tears. "They can both rot, for all I care."

Hitching a duffel up on your shoulder, you follow Fiona out of your room, but then freeze mid-step when you hear Simon grunt, followed by Peach's husky giggle.

"Ungh... Peach? Whaddya want? Why'd ya wake me up?" Simon slurs, his voice gravelly with sleep.

"Mmm, c'mon Si," she moans. "You know exactly what I want, baby..."

You can't get down the stairs fast enough, and when you run from the row house, you leave the front door standing wide open behind you.

-

prev. << | >> next

[unknownlesbianartist]

I have so many things to do but I’m going to rant instead of doing them.

Can we talk about how Percy treated Nico? It’s been acknowledged but let’s actually look at this shit.

First of all, when Nico took Percy to the underworld to get Achilles’ curse and yes, scammed him a little bit by taking him to Hades first. Then Nico went and saved Percy only to be slammed into a rock wall with a sword on his throat. And how old was he? Thirteen. How old was Percy? SIXTEEN! And I know Percy fucking Jackson had been through a lot more at the age of thirteen but did he do it after loosing his sister? Did he do it at ten years old after loosing the only family member he has left to a mission she had half abandoned him to go on? No. No he did not.

(Side note, just the way Nico got zero recognition after literally carrying the end of the battle of manhattan with his undead army makes me just a little bit FUCKING FURIOUS)

Second, in the Mark of Athena, when Hazel is holding Nico’s weight just for this 14yo to stand up with how weak he is after rotting in a jar without food, air, water, nothing to satisfy his basic human needs (mind you, this happened after an incredibly traumatic experience aka Tartarus) the first thing Percy or says to him is not offering some kind of help, not asking him if he can do the talking later, not showing him empathy but instead asking why he left a few important details out of an earlier conversation. I know Percy felt bad for Nico’s trauma but he didn’t mention it in any way. Pisses the shit off of me.

Then just the vibe Percy gave me whenever he interacted with Nico that gave me the same feeling as someone awkwardly saying ‘alright broski’ to someone who’s opening up about their horrid generational trauma. That made me so mad and I genuinely hated Percy for so long. (I read the books in my native language so the vibe may have gotten mixed up in the translation but that’s what I felt like)

Thank you.

[sirsealery]

mentioned this a bit at the bottom of some comment thread in one of my hunger games fics and figured i might expand on it a bit here? to see what other people have to say, i think. sotr spoilers !!

fyi im wearing a homemade lorax costume right now as im typing this. happy world book day!

so, anyways, i wanna talk about the careers. i wouldnt call myself a career fan or lover, and frankly i dont have much love for any of the careers in the series, especially in the first book and sotr. the only exceptions are finnick and annie (and i suppose mags? is she a career?) because theyre written as actual people. which leads me to my first point, which is that so often, theyre just so cartoonishly evil. they remind me so much of those disney channel bullies but take it up a notch. they kill people instead of shoving them into lockers or flushing their face in the toilet. but like with the same energy and the annoying jock voice you know what i mean?? lmao

and i mean i get it. in the first book theyre like the main antagonists and we're not spending more than a couple of pages with them, so they dont need to be all that fleshed out. which is totally fine, i dont care, but in some of the other books? in sunrise, where silka is actively trying to be humanized? to me, it fell very, very flat. i felt absolutely nothing reading about her eat chocolate and cry at the foot of the tree. and panache being a cato 2.0 kind of annoyed me. i get it! dumb brutes exist, but how are there so many of them? i dont think ive ever met a single person like this. ever. i dont know though, maybe my experience isnt universal. maybe in other parts of the world there are plenty of laughably stupid hunks. basically all of the careers are complete idiots, just running around and stabbing babies.

okay now what i really wanted to talk about after ranting a bit. sorry gang. i wanna talk about how sad the career existence is. i mean, theyre needlessly brutal and mean. but they were also raised this way? id love for someone more articulate than me to talk about this too. i had a thought a while ago kinda comparing the careers to like .. the people who peaked in high school? id love to have an exploration of the career experience, either an essay or fanfiction (lmk if theres any youve found !!) cuz like .. of course youre bringing honor and glory not only to yourself but also your whole district, patriotism and all that. but i wonder if its still the same once you start killing kids? i mean its basically a given that theyre pretty desensitized to violence, gore and death at the point where they volunteer for the games, but i dont think its quite the same when youre actually like .. doing it??

and when you go home, youre celebrated and praised, but only like until someone new wins, which is next year. and theres gonna be the trauma of the games and potentially life altering injuries and while in the other districts theres some kind of sympathy for victors, but since in the career districts they idolize it, theres not really any/as much i think?? i imagine itd be really weird to work your whole life, achieve your goals, and then come to the realization that you basically have no purpose now but to watch kids under your care die and hope that at least one of them will survive. i wonder if thats why some of the careers in catching fire were so eager to rejoin the games? since its all theyre known for and theyve had nothing for the last like 10-20 years and they want a shot to do what theyre best at again? relive their glory days or whatever? im honestly not sure, but i think its worth thinking about. thanks gang 🙏

[comradesummers]

adoring all of your takes on The Pitt. (And BTVS ofc) but wondering if you have any thoughts on Samira and Collins dynamic? Or Samira and Trinity?

thank you for asking! as you can see i'm definitely developing an obsession with the pitt. there are so many beautiful women and so many wonderful dynamics between them to dig into and explore. so thank you for giving me the opportunity to do so!

i find samira and collins' dynamic really interesting, because you get the impression that collins may have been a little judgemental of mohan pre-canon. i mean collins actually apologizes for calling her slo-mo, or at least for not intervening when her colleagues did. and mohan seems surprised when collins steps in with the influencer patient and advocates for her. so it seems like we're actually seeing a turning point in their relationship in real time, which is awesome! i really hope that next season, they've settled into a nice mentor/mentee relationship. collins may only be a year ahead of mohan, but, based on actor ages (which idk how accurate that is to the characters, but it's what we've got to go on rn), collins is over a decade older than mohan, and definitely more confident about where she is in life (another reason why i think she and mckay probably have a good relationship, they're of a similar age, meaning they both decided to become doctors later in life than a lot of their peers, but that's beside the point). and since mohan's relationship with robby can be a little rocky, i think she definitely appreciates having collins in her corner. meanwhile, i think collins maybe learns to be a bit more flexible through mohan. maybe she sees the value of making the kind of connection mohan makes with her patients and tries to implement that a little bit more into her interactions with patients, even as she maintains her own style (which is very effective and empathetic, she has great bedside manner, don't get me wrong! but samira is doing something different, and like robby says, teachers can learn too).

as for mohan and santos, i'm really looking forward to seeing their relationship develop next season as well! evidently, mohan is a far more effective mentor to santos than langdon is. she criticizes trinity for her bedside manner early on, and although santos is defensive at first, she later apologizes to samira and admits she still has a lot to learn. so that suggests to me that mohan is able to get through to santos effectively, and that santos respects that and is willing to take criticism from her. also, mohan is actually the only person to tell santos that the way langdon berated her was unacceptable. robby calls out langdon for this, but he doesn't check in with trinity until langdon actively tries poisoning the water against her, and even then, that conversation is never really about how trinity is feeling about it all. whereas, as much as trinity pretends to not be affected by langdon's rant, i think she really needs to hear it when mohan tells her that she didn't deserve any of it and that she does deserve to be there and is a good doctor. and i think that earlier in the day, mohan may have come to the not entirely unfounded conclusion that santos was overconfident and a bit of a pain in the ass, but that whole situation gave her a newfound respect for santos, and i get the feeling she'll be looking out for her in the future. also, based on actor ages at least, mohan and santos are basically the same age. and like mohan, i get the impression that santos doesn't really have much of a life outside of the hospital (at least she has her newfound wet cat bestie whitaker now!). so i'm really looking forward to them being loser best friends who kind of enable each other's worst habits. or possibly girlfriends who enable each other's worst habits! (i'm still on my mel/santos and mohan/mckay bullshit, but i could easily be sold on mohan/santos. that's what's so beautiful about this show! so many wonderful yuri combinations to be found and explored!)

[liminalarchivist]

So... I'm not going to lie, I don't care if I didn't finish the drawings, I want to talk about this.

Part 1/?

...

Okay, Jon, Sasha, Georgie, Martin, Tim, and Danny went to the pizzeria when they were kids. But our dear man behind the slaughter (AKA Jonah Magnus) was, as always, searching for a way to achieve immortality. Killing kids and taking their lifespan (and remnant) seemed like the best alternative, apparently.

So, Jonah finds a rich man (AKA Peter Lukas) who could help him with his evil plans (without knowing about the evil plans, of course) One day, Jonah lures Georgie and Danny backstage for a little *stab stab*, and Jon, being the curious one, follows them, sees everything, and tries to tell someone. But no one believes him (except for Tim). Even though, the kids were still missing, so people knew something had happened. They just thought Jon’s version was how his mind tried to cope with the trauma. Everyone’s devastated. Then five more kids go missing: Melanie, Basira, Daisy, Michael (Shelley), and Julia.

So they take little Jon to a therapist in hopes of uncovering the truth and finding the missing kids. Guess who the therapist is? Annabelle Cain. For unknown reasons, she gaslights Jon into believing what he saw wasn’t real. (She knew it was real, and Jonah knew she was “on his side.”)

Eventually, Michael’s body is found outside the pizzeria, and the place gets shut down as a crime scene. It never regains its popularity. At first, they arrest Jonah for neglect, but then they pin everything on Gertrude, since Jonah seems squeaky clean (which he is very much not).

Years later, Sasha, Tim, and Jon share a flat. Jon’s unemployed (living rent-free), Sasha’s getting her master’s degree, and Tim is the marketing manager of some company. One day they get a newsletter, and Tim sees the pizzeria is hiring again. He rants about it to Jon, still convinced the guy in the bunny suit took his brother (secretly hoping Danny’s still alive)

Jon, being sensitive about it, decides to get the job to prove Tim wrong. How would he do that? Who knows. He was a bit drunk when he made that decision. Later, he tells Annabelle about it (she's still his therapist), and she says it might be good exposure therapy, plus, Jon still needs a job.

I know this has been done before, but I have my own TMA FNAF AU and no one is going to stop me.

[robynator]

obsessed with how daud canonically chooses to forgive billie when she gives him the choice between killing her and showing her mercy after she betrays him

obsessed with how just a few months later, daud does the same, placing his life in the hands of a man whose life he completely ruined, asking to be spared and, against all odds, walking away from that encounter alive

obsessed with the alternatives you're given to those options as well

how, if you choose to kill billie in low chaos she helps you guide the blade. how she looks up at you and smiles as you stab her. how you hold her hand as she dies and don't let go even after she's gone

how, in high chaos, you just don't get that choice. her death is brutal, just like all the other deaths at your hand. like she said, what's one more body? but she's not just one more body. she's your second in command, your confidant, the closest thing you have to a daughter. you don't kill her with the same detachment you do for everyone else. you don't simply pull her onto your blade, you grab her by the throat as you stab her. it's brutal and it's personal, and that makes it so much worse

how, if you end brigmore witches with high chaos, corvo will kill you because you are not true to your word. you say that you feel remorse over jessamine's murder and yet your actions speak otherwise. you are not sincere in your words and while corvo may not know that, the game does. and it's telling you that that's the only way it could end. that if daud goes down that path he will not ever better his ways, nor will he be given the chance to. the only way daud can live is if he is actually committed to change

but despite all those options, in canon, daud gives billie the chance to leave and make a new life for herself. and corvo does the same for daud. and that is a parallel i think a lot about