#how cringe is it to be fighting over the fictional man

[rattlingmycage]

.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for pretending I cheated on my partner when our common friend asked why we fought?

It will sound fake and fictional, but please bear with me because I'm getting crazy over it. And also sorry for any english mistake, we're not from an english speaking country.

To give some context: I am a man. There was this person, B(m), which whom I kind of grew up with. We went through the same schools from our 6 years old to 17 but we never were really friends. Then, around our 13, I got into a clique that fed into all my bad habits and I started to actively bully B because he seemed like an easy target at the time. I enjoyed it and was encouraged to do so (because I was such an asshole and I'm not even cringing thinking about it, it's worse. I regret it so much and I was a stupid and bad teenager). It was so bad that after years of enduring it, B changed school before we graduated and I went on with my life.

It' was's been about 15 years ago that I graduated.

In the meantime, I dealt with some problems that I had with my family and I went through intensive therapy which changed me for the better, and I came to terms with my sexuality as well.

Flashforward to 2019/2020, I meet with someone online through some games and it goes very well. Thanks to the Covid and the lockdowns, we play even more and get closer. At some point, I talk about an event happening close to my city, and he tells me that he knows about it as well and that we're living close to each other. Because we enjoyed our time online (ngl, we had started flirting although I didn't know how sincere it was) we decided to meet at that event.

And there, I find out that my online friend is B. It's extremely awkward but only for me because he cannot recognize me for three reasons: 1. I changed physically with my puberty finally finishing the job after my 18 birthday, and I found some love into dying my hair. 2. I changed in terms of personality thanks to the therapy I went through. 3. My legal name was changed when I said goodbye to this fucking family of mine and left without turning back (but I was getting sick just saying my last name).

I, obviously, didn't tell him anything about who I really was because I just wanted to enjoy that evening with a friend, and we didn't see each other since he left high school because of me. My plan was just to slowly distance myself from him after that evening but it failed because we had a lot of fun and we actually really hit off and I was dying constantly at the idea that he could find out.

We've been in a relationship sicne the beginning of 2021 and I was decided to just never tell him (horrifying idea I know, anyone with a braincell would have told me that it was bound to be found).

A month ago, I met with an old friend from high school (so yeah, he was in the bullying gang but more of a followers, so we stayed in friendly terms when we both agreed that it was bad) and as he recognized B, he decided to excuse himself and hoped that B would forgive him like he "forgave" me (I never got to tell that friend to shut up about that) so yeah, B found out that I was his main bully who had lied to him for almost 4 years now.

We had quite a big talk about it. How bad my bullying ended up for B; why I lied like that and never admitted it. And even if it went alright, B told me that he needed a break to think about things and it's going to be one month that I'm crashing at a common friend of us. At first, I just said that B and I got into a fight and it was good enough, but as it's been already a month, the friend asked more about it. Not wanting to bring up B's trauma to someone else (especially after our conversation), I just told the first lie that came to me and pretended that I cheated on B and he found out.

Now that common friend is calling me an asshole and keeps reminding me how much they are disappointed in me to have done something so horrifying to B. I keep wondering if I did well to lie like that, or if I should have found another way out.

[simp-ly-writes]

Chocolate Chip Cookies

─────── · · A Smosh / Mythical Kitchen Fanfic

Pairing: Trevor Evarts x short!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You are Trevor can't be trusted anywhere with one another, so during one of the few occasions you are allowed to film together- you both decide to make the most of it.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, light swearing, mutual pining, friends/lovers, play fighting, Ian/Anthnoy/Rhett/Link are all "dads". small reference to the comments section

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,477

─ · · A/N: I fully support Trevors IRL relationships, this is fully fictional and meant for entertainment purposes! Man I am craving cookies after writing this. Smosh asks are now open!

─────── · ·

"Hey guys!" you call towards the camera, smiling widely while doing your best to ignore the tall man beside you leaning into your personal space.

"Hey guys!" Trevor mocks your voice before turning around to laugh as you punch his back. The camera cuts to you both standing beside one another, hands purposefully clasped in front as to not touch one another. You both had just been told off by the crew who were growing more annoyed with you two.

Yes, you both pulled many views being on camera together and held the best chemistry of anyone in the cast besides Spencer and his... best friend. But your ability to actually work beside one another was little to none, and your bosses knew this.

"Mine and (name)'s dads have finally allowed them to come over and play in the kitchen with me here at Mythical-" Trevor begins to say before you conclude his sentence.

"Thank you Ian and Anthony and Rhett and Link!" you speak sweetly into the camera, batting your eyelashes for extra effect. "-So as I was saying before being ever so rudely interrupted," Trevor looks down at you, eyes crinkling as you send him a playful glare, leaning into his side. "-we are going up against one another to see who can make the better dish. Josh will be coming in later to blind taste test and determine the winner of todays competition, you ready?"

Trevor asks you, rubbing the side of your arm. "I'm ready to kick you ass!" you declare, breaking away from his touch to move to your side of the kitchen as he does the same. A crew member begins to count off camera as you bounce in your spot, adrenaline pumping through your ears at the sound of one you are darting off. You pray that Trevor does not have the same ideas as you but as he moves to the fridge the same time at you, spreading out his arms to block your view as you slip underneath them and stand proudly in front, reaching in for your chilling dough.

He grabs a very similar looking one, allowing you to sneak back under before moving to his own station and as you both turn to your respective cameras to announce, you are shocked to find your answer echoing. "Today, I will be making my favorite cookies, the best kind of cookies- chocolate chip..."

"Fuck off, you're not," you voice out, pointing your spatula at him with ferociousness. Trevor puts his hands up before smirking and leaning down to look you in the eyes, "Well I am," be begins childishly as you roll eyes towards the camera. "But we will just have to see who makes the better one's now."

You refuse to look back at him as you grab an ice cream scooper from one of the drawers before showing the camera, "tip here: I recommend using this guy to get the perfect serving amount to place on your baking tray. Work smarter not harder-"

"That was cringe," Trevor yells from across the kitchen, you are confused as to how he heard you over the two mixing bowls he has running in the background. "Your bandana is cringe, never had the heart to tell you before," you retort back before smiling at the camera, trying to keep your 'good-child' persona on.

"From what I remember, you said you liked it quite a bit before we starting rolling," he voices, coming around your table and stealing a bit from your dough as you grumble your protest. Smacking his hand away when he goes in for seconds, "you're making your own cookies, remember?"

"But your's taste really good," Trevor says, now emptying his stand mixers as he preps his own trays flowing with memorized precision around the kitchen. You get lost in watching him work, spilling around, towel over his shoulder as he casts you a wink. You blush, flipping him off before sending your tray into the oven. Waving the camera crew over to get a shot of the temperature and times you recommend before going to clean your station.

─────── · ·

You were doing laps around the kitchen and set, trying to find where they kept the serving plates. Growing increasingly frustrated you walked into Trevors side of the kitchen, while grabbing a bite of his leftover dough and asked, "Where do you keep the plates? I can't find them in any of the cupboards..."

"Oh, they are on the top shelf," he moves to show you towards the cabinet. "Why would you guys keep plates on the top shelf?" You question as Trevor keeps his back to you, people behind the camera snicker as your raised eyebrows find the truth in his flushed ears.

"You hid them up there on purpose!" you gasp, hand clutching the false pearls on your chest as he brings the options down for you, leaning against the counter with nonchalance. "Well any excuse for more time filming with you," he hopes to soften your reaction with his comment as you shake your head at him. Holding your lip in from making a reply as you pick your plate and follow Trevor back to the oven as he takes out both of your baked goods.

You look at the two batches side by side curiously. Taking in the added rise in Trevor as yours have spread much wider. Both look mouthwatering as you are tempted to steal one of his and by the growing small smile on his face, he is thinking the same thing.

Reaching over and taking a bite out of one another, you both wave your mouths, dropping the cookies on the counter. "Hot, hot, fuck those are hot!" A staff member comes over, rushing with your water bottles.

After burning your mouths off you both hold each other and laugh, hands gripping aprons before you both move on to plating. You crumble some extra chocolate chunks on the plate with some sea salt chunks before stepping back with a smile, hands raised.

Trevor stands in the same position, "How did you think you did?" Still feeling as completive as ever, you watch both of your plates get carried away to get some close up shots before answering, "I am hopeful to win, but yours did taste incredible. Kinda wished I used the mixture of chocolates that you did instead of the one."

He hums out, nodding along to your reply before you both stand behind Josh as he introduces the judging segment. You grip Trevors hand in waiting, shaking it excitedly as you both score highly.

"It appears you both had fun in the kitchen with one another, in all honesty I was surprised to see the place still standing knowing your history with one another," Josh begins, you imagine the music in the editing later to be getting more dramatic now as the lights in the studio dim.

"Did you really have that little faith in us?" Trevor questions back, Josh twists over the bench to look at you both, returning the mock hurtful look you send him with an equal glare. "Well, this is the first time either of you were allowed in the kitchen without a babysitter and by the mess of your aprons- we should have had another person on the call sheet but nevertheless, we are here for these cookies today. So todays winner is..."

You and Trevor lean down, preparing for the answer and Josh proudly calls out your name, "congratulations!"

You scream, jumping up and down, Trevors hand still in your own as he pulls you into a celebratory hug that you return, giggling happily into his chest as Josh does the outro for you both. The whole studio is clapping, also celebrating the last shooting for the week as you turn to find your office dads waiting. They each send you a pair of thumbs up as the cameras cut and you walk over to them.

"So does this mean me and Trevor can hang out more often?" you ask, looking up at Trevor with hopeful eyes as he nods his head, looking between all four owners. All everyone can do is sigh, exhausted by the seemingly endless energy you and Trevor have when one another are in the room, rolling off each over.

"We will have to check with both of your schedules but... its a yes from our side," Rhett sighs, looking over at Ian who nods his head in a agreement, fixing his glasses. "Yup, but maybe we can double up on some more Mythical Kitchen shoots of you both since you both are still banned from being on Smosh together after breaking that couch..."

"and that lighting panel," Anthony adds before Link steps in to conclude, "You know, I rather like their energy together..."

"-oh god."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: the smosh fics just keep flowing from my brain.

─ · · TAGLIST: @lisiliely

[edgeray]

HI, first of all, i love your write so much 💕💕💕💕💕, you're so creative, please, as long as you feel good writing, write!!! You are very good at it, and you feed Arle stans so weel.

Second, did you by any chance watched bridgerton ? If not, just ignore it, it's more to give a historical context (and dresses in beautiful scenery, for sure). Bridgerton is a period show (and books) that takes place at the beginning of the 19th century (1810-1820) [Although, I think Arlecchino would fit even more within the context of the Victorian age, but I think it might be an idea saved for another request]. Given the context, I believe my request becomes clearer :

Arlecchino who pretends to be a man (dressing and acting like one) to get married to the reader.

It's not news to anyone that Arlecchino is part of a powerful nobility family and it's also not news to anyone that she hates playing the female role given to her (and I can't imagine her wearing the fluffy dress ever!!!!), so seeing her childhood best friend become the diamond of the season (basically the favorite debutant of the season for both the queen and the suitors, in a very short way) She realizes that she needs to enter the marriage market too, in this case to fight for your hand.

Please feel free to change any part of the order, I don't want this to become boring for you to write.

So thank you for share your works and read it, (can i?) 🪷anon.

Courting a Lie

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N- Of course you can be 🪷 anon! Thank you for your kind words. I aim to feed. Arle for everyone!! Sorry that this is super late… I will assume the reader is female for this because a debutant is a woman. Also didn't know how to make it GN! since there's no gender neutral aristocratic titles as far as I know. Sorry GN! readers :(  While I haven't watched Bridgerton, from your description of the era, I've read quite a few manhwas set in a European aristocratic society that sounds just like this. I get the general gist of what you're saying from those manhwas so I drew some inspiration from there.  I've never really written for a historical fiction AU so we shall see how this goes. Apologies in advance if it is cringe. I did change a few things for the plot, but not because it was boring, more because of my own plot/backstory building. I actually had a lot of fun researching random bits for this request, and this request is among my most developed and thoughtful works on Tumblr! Still don't know how to dialogue though… I really liked writing this kind of setting so I would be pretty happy if a part 2 of this was requested... how did I do in terms of writing this? hopefully not too far from bridgerton?   Content warnings / info - arlecchino is referred to as a man and uses masculine pronouns for a little bit, 2.0k words

You don't quite remember what occasion it was when you first met her. Perhaps it was a charity ball or some celebration. Either way, you were at most eight years of age when you met your first friend, a quiet, petite child hiding in the corner of the Snezhevna Estate's garden, ducked nearby a bush. You wandered away from the garden party, as you couldn't find any other children your age that weren't pestering, so you explored the edges, admiring the flowers. 

You stumbled upon a white haired child, with her white dress sullied by her kneeling on the dirt. Similarly, her pale hands were soiled, as if she had dug into the earth with her fingers alone. You nearly gasped at the sight–no lady would ruin their dress so carelessly, especially a dress seemingly adorned as hers. Nevertheless, you were in awe of the courage to do so. Was it possible she wasn't educated well? It'd be damaging to her family's reputation if anyone were to see the condition of her apparel.

You approached her carefully, your voice small in hopes that you wouldn't sound rude. 

“Hello,” you greeted first, and the child turned her head over her shoulder, gazing at you. 

Your breath hitched as you glanced at her eyes, each black pit filled with a red cross in the center that made you suppose she didn't fit into any aristocratic family. You didn't know of any noble family that had such eyes, and it's only been known from noble families to hold particular sets of eyes. Did this girl really belong to nobility? 

“I know I'm not supposed to be in the dirt. Now leave me alone,” she says before turning away, her voice sounding far too monotone and androgynous for you to consider her a young noble lady. Nonetheless, the clear difference between her and the other guests of the function intrigued you. She was educated, or at least it seemed like it, but she had a disregard for creating a good impression. You ignored her request, instead, plopping yourself down beside her to see what it was in the dirt she was so interested in. 

“What are you digging in the dirt for?” You asked. She slumped, as if irritated by your persisted presence. 

“I'm looking for bugs. So go away, unless you want a spider on you,” she warned without looking at you, with the evident expectation her threat would ward you away. 

It did not, in fact, deter you. If anything, you pressed on, your expression contorting to that of fascination. “What kind of bugs?”

That seemed to snatch the young girl's attention as she turned to you, widened eyes as she observed you, searching your face for any lies. She couldn't believe that there was someone else who could be so ‘lady-like.’ Her apathy returns shortly after, and she glances back at the mound of dirt before her. 

“Young ladies aren't supposed to be interested in pests or dirtying their hands,” the white-haired child states, but it seems more like a recital of someone else's words. 

“Maybe. But it's fun, right?” You replied, offering her a small smile.

Although she still didn't face you, you watched her eyes gleam with life. Your grin grew in accordance. 

“So… you like bugs?” She questioned as she cups a worm she managed to uproot. 

“No way. Not touching them,” you shutted her down immediately and she pouted as you shook your head vigorously. 

“But… I thought you were better company than those other kids. So… I hope you don't mind having me too much?” you sheepishly remarked, wincing a bit at your apparent nervousness. In response, the girl huffed, gracing you with a faint smile. The sight sent flutters through your stomach, filling you with a rush of giddiness you never felt before. 

“Just don't scream, okay?” Is all she answered back.

And that was how you befriended the bastard daughter of the Snezhevna family. Since then, the two of you have been exchanging letters, and met each other at every possible social gathering in secret. Although your family discouraged meeting her so often, you ignored them. However, when you had just turned twelve, her letters stopped, as if she disappeared. You asked Marchioness Crucabena about her daughter, and all you received from the matriarch was a cold cut message: Peruere was receiving ‘education’ for indefinitely. 

Your heart sunk as you crinkled the letter in your hands, tears welling in your eyes at the thought of never seeing your dear friend again. Where had Peruere gone? You hastily wrote another letter, inquiring more about the education or if Peruere could write you back, but the Marchioness would not indulge you with additional information, essentially telling you to mind your business and to stop writing to her. 

You remember weeping into your pillows for the entire night until your eyes dried up, red and puffy from rubbing them constantly. You were haunted by memories of star gazing, of laying on the garden grass, of lounging in one another's arms. Your few moments of bliss were gone forever, stripped away with her absence. 

— 

Pureure always wished she wasn't born into a noble family. Aristocratic society was tedious and pretentious. Why her father ever chose to engage with something as disgusting as the Marchioness, it most definitely wasn't out of love–a fabled concept among nobles really. Peruere knew little of what happened to the late Marquess–his death was caused by a carriage accident–but she knew her birth father was with the Marchioness after the death. 

Regardless, between her and her half-sister Clervie, the Marchioness deemed Peruere better fitted as the heir of the family. In Peruere's opinion, Clervie would have made an impressive matriarch. However, when she inquired Clervie about it, her sister vehemently rejected the notion, wanting to remain carefree as she always was. For as heedless as her older sister was, she would be the model of a noblewoman, the favorite debutante had she wanted to take on the aristocratic responsibilities. In any case, Marchioness Crucabena always had a noticeable distaste for the two of them and Peruere suspected it was because she had no sons and marrying once more would mean losing the inheritance of her late husband. 

Peruere soon learned why exactly she was chosen as the next heir. It was easier for her to pose as a male rather than Clervie in order to appease the Marchioness. Added with Peruere's bastard status, few people knew of her existence, or more so, her familial ties with the Marchioness. With the Marchioness’s ‘education’ Peruere, the bastard daughter with a commoner surname, was transformed into Arlecchino Snezhevna, a bastard son with the Snezhevna surname, and so inheritor of the Marquess title. Pereure was erased effectively in the span of six years. 

Because Arlecchino was a bastard son, that label would have made it difficult to impose herself among other noblemen, and most especially, marry another powerful family. In that sense, what she could not make up in legitimacy, she had to make up in other qualities as a noble. Her hours, from dawn to dusk, consisted of history, economy, and art lessons, etiquette and mannerisms classes, 

and learning various skills such as conversational, dancing, equestrian, fencing, and hunting. Obtaining any length of slumber came few and far, and when rest was finally permitted, her body often ached too much for her to drift.

Instead, she laid conscious at night, her head tilted towards the window, the stars winking back at her. Her thoughts returned to you, as they always have during her respites, and she would wonder again and again if you were looking at the same night sky as she was, reminiscing over memories of stargazing. She often raised her hands to her eyes, the only question lingering in her mind would be if you would recognize these hands if she met you again, the same hands that held you. Alone in her chambers, Arlecchino, no Peruere, promised that she would meet you again, and maybe, this time she would never have to leave your side again. 

She only hoped that she would be good enough for you. 

—

Your heart is thumping rapidly against your chest while your clammy and fidgety hands grasp onto the gloved hand of your dance partner, maintaining deep breaths and keeping your composure as best as possible. You match the steps of the bachelor gracefully and diligentfully, feeling many spectators’ gazes on your back. It’s both invigorating and exhausting to realize that you are the diamond of the season. Receiving this many dance requests is a good sign, yes, but it only means that you are creeping closer to having to choose a suitor.

And inevitably lose Peruere forever. 

You quickly snap out of your thoughts in order to further entertain your dance partner with small talk, and finally the dance ends. 

“Thank you, Earl Childe. It was a pleasure dancing with you. You make an excellent dancer,” you offer the young redhead a beaming expression. 

“You're quite one yourself. I quite enjoyed our time. Perhaps we could dance more privately at a later date?” The sauve bachelor replies back, matching your practiced smile with a cocky one. 

“Perhaps,” is all you say, and thankfully the bachelor walks away. 

You let out a sigh of relief, but it seems you thought too soon, as another set of footsteps approach you from behind. Turning around, you’re met with perhaps the most refined and handsome gentleman you've graced your eyes upon. Immediately, you feel your cheeks swell and you feel unnaturally timid. Sincere red-crossed eyes meet yours, and a faint, charming smile stretches on the lips of the nearing bachelor.

“May I have this dance, Lady [F/N]?” He offers his hand gracefully, and you take his. 

“I haven't introduced myself, pardon me. I am, Earl Arlecchino, Earl of Snezhevna,” he introduces himself with a knowing smile, or rather, she introduces herself as your face contort to that of shock at the mention of her family name. You halt as she initiates the dance, her grin growing as fondness spreads over her facial expression.

“Peruere?” You whisper as you reach out, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder, your other gloved hand in hers. Her body warmth bleeds through the contact, and you sense it flow through your entire body. 

“It's Arlecchino, for appearances. I trust you won't expose me?” Peruere says, her eyes scanning over your entire form in awe. “You're… I don't quite have enough words to describe you. You're utterly beautiful.” 

You flush at the compliment before you forcefully tear yourself away from the bubbling giddiness within you, nodding at her first question. Your face attempts to appear stern and angry, but your eyes sabotage that. “I missed you… dearly. Where have you gone? Why didn't you write to me? I kept waiting for you…” 

Peruere's face softens, morphing to one of regret and sympathy. “I haven't stopped thinking of you either. My mother demanded I suddenly take lessons on how to be a nobleman, and with that, I was no longer Peruere, but Arlecchino. During that time, I had to endure everything my mother gave me, and I hardly had time to sleep. I have tried to send you some, but I suspected that the Marchioness meticulously checked what was sent and received. I've kept a pile of letters that I wrote for you, so you would be able to read everything I had to say over the years.” 

You inhale slowly before nodding, understanding her words. “You kept plaguing my dreams, Arlecchino. You don't know how long I've wanted to see you. Please… never leave me again. I don't think I can bear being without you again.” 

It's Arlecchino's turn to be surprised. “You… Are you asking me what you think you're asking me?” She breathlessly inquires, her voice on the edge of exhilaration, and you give her a hopeful smile. 

You nod. “I… I always thought you were the one since we were little. I didn't want to spend my time with anyone else. So… can you be beside me again?” 

Peruere nearly melts at your request. “As long as you'll allow me another dance.” 

[guilty-pleasures21]

Yooooooooouuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!! You SUCK!

ATSV fanfic starring Miguel O'Hara (my weakness!!! 😭)

0. The Slow Burn

Part 1 - the meet cute

Part 2 - the coffee mug

Part 3 - the spicy song

Part 4 - the absence

Part 5 - the watch/the sweet song

Part 6 - the backrub

Warnings: none.

_______________________________________________

     He brought his hand closer to her face, the heat of his flame raging against her, threatening to burn her skin. And then, suddenly, it was gone, and she could breathe again. She looked around, trying to locate her enemy, and found him smashed firmly into the wall, the brick forming a perfect outline around his golden form. What? She definitely hadn’t done that. At least, she didn’t think she had. She turned back and found a new figure standing in front of her. A man, judging by his broad shoulders and heavy build. He was clad in a red and blue outfit, not a single patch of skin in sight. But the material was tight, clinging to his muscles, defining their sharp lines and letting his enemies know exactly what they were up against. He was big and tall and … tall and … big. 

     “Um, please don’t tell me I’m going to have to kill you too,” she only half-joked. She was already barely surviving the fight against the strange new villain that had sprung into existence only moments ago. She definitely couldn’t handle another insane man who thought the world owed him a living right now. The man folded his arms across his chest and let out a small chuckle, almost definitely smirking at her beneath his mask. 

     “I’d like to see you try, arañita.” She frowned at the  easy confidence of his tone, at the smoothness of his voice and the spark of warmth it ignited in her chest. Argh! She hated him already. She averted her gaze, giving herself the space to collect her thoughts and refocus her attention back to the task at hand. She cleared her throat. 

     “Well, thanks for your help, Mr …” she trailed off, leaving him to fill in the blank with a name, something that might help her identify him. He let his hands fall back to his sides and studied her carefully for a moment. 

     “Spiderman,” he supplied. Wait, what? She raised an eyebrow, confused. 

     “Like the character?” Now it was his turn to look puzzled. 

     “Wait, what?” Before she could elaborate, a golden blur shot from the side, slamming straight into the … Spiderman, he’d said? She winced at the impact, cringing on his behalf. It didn’t matter how big and strong he was; being tackled by a man made of literal metal had to hurt. The Spiderman stumbled for a second, dazed, but then he regained his bearings and threw a punch at the other man, forcing him to the ground. 

     “Spiderman?” she repeated, picking up their previous conversation. “The fictional character they created as my love interest because having a woman fight bad guys isn’t good press for the patriarchy?” She vaulted to the balcony on the second floor, her eyes flickering around her surroundings, her brain calculating all the possible ways they might come out victorious. She paused. She’d only known this Spiderman for, what, five minutes? And already she was thinking of them as some sort of team. And that was when she saw the fire extinguisher. Her gaze slid back to the two men below her, both of them continuing to trade punches. It could work. But only if the Spiderman was somehow able to read her mind from all the way over there. She called out to him. 

     “Oh god. Please don’t tell me you’re just a random guy in a costume,” she teased him, flying over his head to get to her new weapon of choice. He hunched his shoulders at that, clearly offended by the very suggestion. 

     “I can assure you, arañita,” he replied, ducking to avoid another punch. “I am very, very real.” And then he looked at her, just for a second. But it was the second she needed. She gestured to the fire extinguisher, hoping he’d know exactly what she was trying to say. And judging by the slight pause he gave, he did. He nodded, then turned back to the golden man, trying to keep him busy, making sure he didn’t catch onto their plan. “Unlike pretty boy over here.” 

     It worked. The man lit up in flames, screaming with anger as he rushed the Spiderman. X ripped the extinguisher out of the wall and threw it to him, the object landing perfectly in his hands. Without a moment’s hesitation, he aimed it at the flaming man and sprayed, disorienting him. When the can was finally empty, he smashed it over the villain’s head, the force of his blow knocking him out. X landed in front of his prone form, then looked up at the Spiderman across from her, gesturing for him to tie the man up with his webs. He tilted his head, considering, but then did as she’d asked, wrapping the man up firmly in his spider silk. At the same time, she began weaving her own web, twisting it into a thick, impenetrable rope. When she’d finished, she swung it into the air, looping it around the railing of the second floor balcony. Then she knelt down and attached the end to the Spiderman’s, suspending the now unconscious metal man in the air when she stood up and pulled on it. Perfect. Now to deal with the next problem at hand. She turned to the Spiderman, standing there, watching her with his arms crossed over his chest. So he really did have powers. But then why had he left her to be the lone hero for so long? 

     “So, uh, thanks for your help but, I could have used it, like, a year ago?” she told him as much. He released his arms, his shoulders sinking slightly in weariness or exasperation, she couldn’t quite tell. 

     “That’s not how this works,” he replied cryptically, turning to the man hanging between them. He swung him over one wide shoulder, then reached up, a finger outstretched. Except that, it wasn’t a finger, not exactly. She looked on in bewilderment at the sharp, elongated tip, which he flicked across the spider silk rope, snapping it in half. Then he tossed something to her, a small, bracelet-like device which she caught easily. She waited for an explanation, but he just waved a hand at her expectantly. “Put it on. We’ve got a lot to get done.”

He'd brought her to his HQ after they'd returned the Molten Man to his home dimension. They'd been in the control room for about half an hour now, her nodding along enthusiastically to his explanations about his missions and the Spider society he'd brought together. He'd originally intended to just give her a brief overview - as he'd started doing when the other Spiders he'd brought back quickly lost interest in the science of it all - but the look on her face: contemplative, interested ... it had kept him rambling on. Until her eyes had narrowed, her eyebrows drawing together as she tried to comprehend his explanation.

     She frowned, her features scrunching up as she thought about how to phrase the question on her mind. “Okay, but isn’t you manipulating space and time to travel to different dimensions also going to contribute to rips in the aforementioned space and time?” 

     He paused, impressed; though he would never admit it. All the questions he’d been asked before had been dumb, brainless. Some of the other spiders hadn’t even bothered to ask any, silently accepting that they’d never be able to understand. But she … she questioned him, challenged his hypotheses, made him wonder if there could be more than just one way to do things.

     “Well, no. Because I’m not actually manipulating space and time,” he explained patiently. “I’m just travelling faster than the speed of light. It’s like taking shortcuts through space.” She nodded slowly, her eyebrows creased together in thought. It made sense. If she didn’t think about it for too long, that is. And there was still the question of the watches and how they managed to stabilise the bonds holding organic matter together outside of their own dimension. But maybe it was best to just leave it here for now. Before her brain started melting in her skull. 

     “Ugh, physics,” she groaned, pulling on her hood in exaggerated annoyance. “I hate physics.” He raised an eyebrow at her dramatics, slightly intrigued, against his better judgement. She claimed to hate it, but she seemed to grasp whatever concepts he threw at her quickly. He knew based on her file that she was a biologist - like him, though that was besides the point - which meant that she must have had to do some outside reading in order to understand at least the basic foundations of astrophysics and quantum mechanics. And she must have been especially smart to have somehow gained an understanding of those subjects all on her own. She gave herself a shake, oblivious to the thoughts running through his mind, and inhaled deeply. 

     “Okay, I’m good,” she decided, ending the discussion. “Can we take a break? My brain hurts.” He didn’t realise until she turned to him with a pleased expression on her face that he’d let out a snicker. His eyes widened, surprised by his own reaction, and he quickly cleared his throat, his features melting back into their usual scowl.  

     “Fine, okay.” He waved her off, dismissing her to go do whatever she wanted. “But be back here by four tomorrow. We’ve still got a lot to do.” He turned back to his computer, forcing himself to not look back at her, to not think about how his watch had lit up green the moment they'd met - an indication of a successful canon event.

     "Adiós, Miguel," she called out to him, her voice echoing through the cavernous room. "See you tomorrow!" He hunched over his desk, his voice just loud enough that she could catch it before she left. 

     "Hasta mañana, arañita.”

[valeriele3]

Fever Dream

Multiple Fandoms x GN!Reader Characters: Mao Isara, Trey Clover, Kaedehara Kazuha, Shikanoin Heizou, Ritsu Sakuma Warnings: Besides cringe and bad grammar, nothing

This is currently incomplete and only contains Mao! I will edit in the other parts when it releases. I’m so sorry for the wrong tags

There you lay on your bed, tired and quite clearly sick.

You felt utterly terrible, but it'll all go away with a bit of sleep, right?

And so, that's what you did. You close your eyes and let the oncoming sleepiness take you to dreamland.

While sleeping, you sense a figure looming over you.

Which you would normally ignore had you been staying at your parents' house, but guess what? You weren't there right now. You were currently staying at your apartment, which you certainly didn't share with anyone.

Quickly stirring awake, you grab the lapel of the intruder's clothes, put your arm near the armpit, and throw them over.

You were about to bash their head in with the nearby book you had, but you paused when you heard them groan in pain.

'That voice sounds familiar..' you thought, and upon looking much closer to the intruder, you see Mao Isara on the ground.

Hold up, MAO ISARA?!?! THAT MAO ISARA?!?

That didn't make any sense; Mao wasn't real; he's a fictional character!

'What if he's a robber in a cosplay!?' The thought was absurd, but hey, the current situation itself was absurd.

You were pulled away from your thoughts by the sudden voice that entered the space.

"Oww..What'd you hit me for..? That hurt" The robber cosplayer mumbled

You observed the man once more and finally noticed how your surroundings were different.

This room wasn't your bedroom; hell, this place wasn't even your apartment!

So that means that this intruder didn't just invade your home but also kidnapped you while you were asleep!

"-ello? Y/N? Are you alright?"

"You aren't sick, are you?" The man puts the back of his palm to your forehead.

"Geez! You're burning up! C'mon, let's get you to your room." The man hurriedly ushers you to what you now presume to be your bedroom.

Why did you just let the man basically drag you to your "bedroom" without putting up a fight? You honestly don't know yourself, but what you do know is that you're feeling ill. Very ill

After laying you down, the man rushed to get some medicine and, apparently, soup.

Hearing the bedroom door shut seemed to shake you out of your stupor.

You then begin to assess the situation.

'Alright, so the last thing I remember doing is falling asleep in bed. Then I suddenly awoke in this mysterious house. apartment? dorm? and, uh, a weird kidnapper who likes to cosplay."

‘I could probably escape through the window, but seeing how high up this place is, I would definitely break my legs, which isn’t ideal if I want to escape. The front door is out of the question too; I don’t even know the layout of this place, and it could be locked, hello neighbor basement door style.”

After realizing that you were basically not figuring anything out, you decide to look around the room.

The bedside table had a lamp, a clock, a picture frame, and a tumbler filled with cold water inside.

The walls were painted in f/c, and the decor was something you had only dreamt of having. Things that you wanted to buy but couldn't because of your budget.

'Let's see... a closet full of clothes that are quite fashionable, if I do say so myself." These clothes were definitely your size and fit your personal tastes. It seems the kidnapper did his research.

'Wait a minute. Did I just see a picture frame earlier? 'You quickly look around the room once more until your eyes land on the frame placed atop the bedside table.

You quickly grab it, and to your surprise, there in the frame was a picture of you with Ritsu Sakuma and Mao Isara. Two of your favorite characters in the game Ensemble Stars

Hooray! It looks like you got isekai’d in an alternate universe where you live in the Enstars world.

A knock on the door catches your attention.

It seems that Mao finished making the soup.

“Ahem..Come in! ”

The door swings open, revealing the maroon-haired man holding a bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a pack of medicine.

“Here. Eat it while it’s still hot.” He places the items on your nightstand.

Still refusing to believe you got isekai’d in the Enstars world..you suspiciously look at the soup.

“Why’re you just staring at it? ”

“C’mere, sit.” He forces you to sit on the bed and grabs your ✨✨epic gamer chair✨✨.

He grabs the spoon and scoops out some soup, then blows on it to cool it down.

He then puts the spoon near your lips, signaling you to open them.

It seems that Mao Isara will be spoon-feeding you today. That’s one thing you never expected to happen.

“I’m not hungry, I—” Like a cliche scene in some drama or anime, your stomach growls, betraying what you had just said.

“Pfft.” He struggles to stop his laughter, but it soon fails, leading him to burst out in laughter.

He scoops some up again, cools it down, and puts it on your lips. This time, you allow yourself to open your mouth and swallow the soup.

He chuckles,

“What? Why’re you laughing?? ”

“It’s just... it really boosts my confidence whenever you eat my cooking, y’know? That sparkle in your eyes tells me that you enjoy it.”

“W-Well, it is delicious..So..ugh..just feed me more, please..I’m hungry.”

Mao chuckles, “Alright~ say ahh~”

You close your eyes and open your mouth

When you reopen them again, instead of “your room” and Mao in front of you you’re greeted with the sight of Trey Clover spoon feeding you

“Hm? What’s wrong? Is it still too hot?” He blows on the soup before attempting to spoon feed it to you again

“T-Trey?!!”

“Yes?”

“You’re Trey, like..Trey Clover!?”

“Uhm, yes, that’s me. Trey Clover” He seems surprised by your sudden change of..Mood? You assume

Part 1 ends here! Other parts will hopefully be released soon <3

.ೃ࿐Reblogs are highly appreciated! ^^

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Outfoxed: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Summary: Derek has had enough and decides now is the time to work bringing you home. The team is working on two cases and stretching their agents thin but they'll do anything to bring you back into Spencer's arms.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I know I'm going to piss some people off with the way I wrote the trial and the gathering of evidence but remember, this is fiction and it's my story. I'm making it easy and convenient. I know this isn't how trials work.

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"This unsub is armed and suffering a major psychological break, and she will not hesitate to kill again. She's white and in her twenties. We believe she came to the US a few years ago. She's likely on foot. She could be Eastern European. She may speak little to no English."

"If you manage to apprehend or corner her, do not underestimate this woman. She will try to fight her way out. The Downeys live less than a mile from the Foresters which means she's somewhere in this area."

"Every media outlet is being informed of the clear and present danger to the public," JJ says.

"Thank you," Rossi concludes the meeting just as Penelope calls. He takes this to the conference room so she can be on speakerphone. "Hey, Garcia."

"Okay, I really might have got something. All of these photos, every one of them, were uploaded to a user website called Photobug. It's an app where people can upload photos and videos, email, and webcam chats. Every one of these families extensively used this site for months, even years."

"All these family photos were printed by Photobug?"

"Yes."

"Isn't it protected?"

"Not from the people who run it. It's a great way for military families to keep in touch and a perfect way to target a family without anybody's knowledge."

"They outsource work to people all over the country. So, I took your profile, hacked into their employee database, and came up with this list of potentials. One of which is a match that screams homicidal bitch. Her name's Miranda Dracar. She was an orphan, born in Sarajevo in 1982. She was adopted by a family in Srebrenica. The address is being sent now."

"Let's go," Rossi says.

Rossi, JJ, and Anne find her apartment easily but luck has it, she's not there. However, pictures of Miranda's victims are posted all over her walls.

"All three families are on here," JJ says.

"Look at this." Anne points out a picture of another military man. "Do you think this is her next victim? His name is Sergeant Eric Young."

"JJ, call your contact."

JJ takes out her phone and calls someone she knows will be able to help in figuring out who this man's family is.

"Hi, this is Jennifer Jareau with the FBI. Sir, I'm gonna need access to every piece of data on US Marine Sergeant Young. It may save his family."

Rossi calls Hotch and Emily to let them know of their progress, and Hotch is more concerned the longer they talk to Karl about the murders.

"I don't think this woman has anything to do with Karl," Hotch says once he gets off the phone.

"I encouraged him. Ohh. I flirted with him," Emily cringes. "I made it personal. Getting intimate with a killer is so different."

"It's what we do."

"Yeah, but there's no fixing how I feel right now, is there?"

"No, but it helped the case. You did what you had to do."

"Agent Hotchner," Karl says from the room knowing he can hear him. "Before you go, there's one final thing I'd like to share with you."

"Let's get this over with," Emily sighs.

Both of them walk back into the room and Karl smirks at them.

"You think you found my admirer? A woman?"

"No, we found the killer," Emily corrects.

"With my help, of course."

"Your admirer is exactly like everyone who contacts you--lost."

"My love, your guy is far from lost."

"Okay, we're done here," Hotch declares.

"So is he." Karl holds up a note he's been keeping secret. "Look at what I have done. It's quite brilliant, you know?"

"We will find whoever sent you that."

"No, Agent Hotchner, I rather think he's already found you."

Hotch can't deny the dread he's feeling from his words. Emily and Hotch's phone rings but only the former grabs her phone to check. They found the unsub. She fought hard to escape but was eventually shot by her own gun. Something snaps in Hotch and he starts going through every file Karl has, anything that will help him get the answers he needs.

"Hotch. Hotch!" Emily urges.

"I can't believe you can't see what he's doing," Karl laughs.

"What is going on?"

"He's torturing him."

"Who?"

"It's great to see you squirm, Agent Hotchner."

Hotch looks at Emily with fear in his eyes. "Foyet."

"He knew you'd come," Karl laughs.

This all comes down to Foyet, and Hotch knows if he is going to get his ass, he's gonna need you to come back. After the incident with Big Sue, Ashley has been left alone. Big Sue hasn't gone after anyone since she was kicked out of her own gang for not being tough enough. One of them tried inducing you but you politely declined.

You and Ashley are in the rec room playing a game of chess. She doesn't know how to play but you've been teaching her.

"I used to know how to play well when I was a kid but got out of it as I grew up. My boyfriend retaught me."

You smile at the memories of you two going against each other.

"He sounds sweet."

"He is. He keeps trying to visit me here. It breaks my heart every time I deny him."

"Why do you?"

"He has this beautiful mind that remembers everything he sees and reads. He can't forget. I don't want him to remember me this way. I can't look in his eyes and see this version of myself. Maybe that makes me selfish."

"No, I get it. I'd hate for my parents to see me like this. They've tried visiting but I told them after the first one I don't want them here. They write every day, though."

"That's nice," you smile.

"Y/N!" You look to your right and see a guard coming for you. "Trial time. We have a spare change of clothes in your cell for you."

"Thank you," you say and get up.

"Give 'em hell," Ashley grins.

"Keep your head up, Ash. Remember what we talked about." She nods. "If I am found innocent and I don't return, just know I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you out of here."

"Go, you have court," she smiles with tears in her eyes.

"I promise, Ashley. I'll get you out of here."

After getting changed into more professional clothing, you're escorted to Arlington General District Court. You're nervous since you've seen the evidence they have on you. It's going to be tough to prove your case but you're going to use everything you've got to persuade the judge. You sit next to your lawyer after the judge has sat down. You look at the jury and quickly read each and every one.

Bored. Scared. Excited. Nervous. If you act right and give them the truth, you believe they will side with you. Most juries are unanimous so it could be a long decision process if not everyone is on your side.

"This is the case of the Commonwealth of Virginia v Y/N. Ms. Y/N, how do you plead?" the judge asks.

"Not guilty, Your Honor."

"Present your case."

The prosecutor stands up since he is allowed to go first. He walks in front of the jury and begins his statement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, do not let looks fool you. What you see as a friendly woman is a stone-cold killer." You fight the urge to roll your eyes. "She murdered seven men in cold blood, and here is the evidence to prove it. On every single victim are her prints and her hair. On every single murder weapon are her prints. I have the results back from the lab here. I have a witness statement made by a man named Frank Livingston that explicitly saw her commit the crimes."

"Is your witness here today?" the judge asks.

The prosecutor becomes clammy and clears his throat nervously.

"No, Your Honor."

"Why not?"

"I was unable to locate Frank to be subpoenaed."

"Objection. That's hearsay, Your Honor," Steve interjects. "How can we accept that statement from the person if that person isn't here?"

"I will allow lab results submitted into evidence but not that witness statement. If your witness isn't able to show up, the statement is voided."

"Yes, Your Honor."

He finishes his opening statement about how you're such a bad person before taking a seat at the desk. Steven stands up and does the talking for you, trying to make it clear to the jury that you're innocent.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I'd like to introduce you to Y/N. She is an FBI profiler for the BAU right here in Virginia. She started in the police force before moving up quickly to where she is now. She's aided hundreds of cases and given justice to those who were seeking it." Your lawyer holds up a file that has pieces of paper sticking out of it. "In here, I have letters from victims and their families thanking her for what she's done for them." You had no idea he did that for you. "The crimes she's accused of just isn't who she is. She helps instead of taking what she vowed to protect. The crimes in question occurred at night, the same nights she was safe in bed with her boyfriend. I have credit card statements that have already been submitted into evidence that show she is nowhere near the crimes when they were occurring." Steve goes on to talk about you in such a high tone, presenting everything he has that is in your favor. "Your Honor, if I may."

"Yes."

Steve walks all the evidence that's in your favor (it's not much) over to the judge who accepts it. Once they get the evidence out of the way, they'll go over the witnesses' statements before getting into their closing arguments. Steve doesn't have much in terms of evidence for you but the prosecuting attorney has plenty to put you away for a very long time.

Before he has a chance to end this part of the trial, the double doors into the courtroom are opened, and you look behind you to see your entire team file in. They all give you encouraging smiles until you see Spencer walk in. You briefly make eye contact with him before turning around to face the judge.

"Your Honor, if I may, I have more evidence to present."

"What is it?"

Steve walks over to Derek who hands him a file of more evidence in your favor. He looks through the file before taking out the ME reports that Derek had rushed. There is a TV in the corner of the room that can be used to show evidence, and he points to it.

"I'd like to request the use of the TV as I have video files to show as evidence."

The judge motions to the bailiff to roll the TV over to Steve so he can use it. You had no idea this was even happening. You knew they were working it but you didn't know they collected all this evidence... whatever it may be. You fight the urge to look back at them. You can feel his eyes on you.

"Your Honor and the jury, may I present to you, a video--CCTV footage of Y/N." He plugs the USB into the TV where the video of you walking into the hotel plays. He then shows the video of you in the gas station. It's grainy but it's clearly you." You get tears when you see the video of you and Spencer walking into the lobby holding hands. You miss that. "I have two of the four autopsies that were released for victims Juan Lopez and John Dimateo. The medical examiner put their deaths on the night that Y/N and her team checked into the hotel. They were dead a week before being found by police. She was on a case a few days prior to them being discovered, and I have the proof submitted by her Unit Chief."

The next video he shows is too dark to make anything out, but it's clear there is a man stabbing another man. You can't see any defining features on the man, but it's clear that the person on the video doesn't have your build. The crime scene photos of Chase Williams are also submitted side by side to show that it's the same alley he got stabbed in.

"Victims four and five, Eric Price and Jeffrey Rideback, as per the medical examiner report, have injuries that are too old to be when they say they died. They were dead long before they were ever found, and according to the ME report, two weeks. Two weeks before they were found, Y/N and her boyfriend Spencer Reid were out of town, and I have credit card statements and videos to prove it. Finally, video footage taken by a neighbor's camera pointed right at Y/N's apartment doors."

He plays the video that shows a man leaving your apartment with your hairbrush and two of the murder weapons in hand. You frown when you see the man's legs. It's a weird thing to think about but you've seen those legs before. You always knew that you knew the person who murdered the seven men because who else would hold a strong enough grudge against you than a person who knows you? Still, you can't put a name to it but if you had to guess, it's Frank Livingston. Why else would he lie about seeing you murder a man?

"This video shows a man leaving her apartment with two of the seven murder weapons and with a hairbrush that is used to leave behind her DNA on the victims. Victims she never knew or never had contact with. Ladies and gentlemen, Your Honor, Y/N is framed for murder and doing time for something she didn't do."

Steven does a good job, you have to admit. They just have a lot to speculate as soon as the day is over, and they come to a decision fairly quickly. That can be good or bad, depending on how you look at it. Either they find you so guilty that they didn't want to debate long or they weren't fooled and decided you were innocent. Either way, you're sitting on the edge of your seat when they return.

"We the jury find Y/N on account of murder innocent of all charges."

You don't care what they say afterward. All you care about is that they find you innocent. You're free to go. You don't have to go back to that hellhole of a prison. You hate leaving Ashley behind but you're going to do good by her and get her out of there as soon as you can. You walk over to your team who is cheering for your release, and the first person you run to is Spencer. He pushes aside the last two months of you not wanting to see him and accepts you into his arms, and you cry from how happy you are.

You're finally home.

x

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[ambrosialdesire]

Congrats on 30 followers! :) Since you’re requests are now officially open I have oneeee.

Canon verse yandere childhood best friend Eren :) Maybe reader starts dating someone and Eren won’t accept having the love of his life be taken away from him.

(I’m not really sure if this is how to write a request btw.)

boundless

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 eren x fem!reader word count: 2k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, one-sided pining, childhood friends, kinda angsty at first ngl, implied non-con at the end, all characters are 18+ synopsis: you start dating and it's not the man that everyone had expected, the one who's been at your side since forever. love is a powerful emotion and eren has too much of it for you to ignore. a/n: thank you sm anon and this is a perfectly fine request! depending on how descriptive a request is somewhat affects the length of the fic :) btw this is pre-rumbling and pre-marley invasion (aka when eren was pretending to be a injured soldier). really bad and unreliable synopsis but hope this is a good read!! double posting today haha (mostly because i haven't posted in a bit lol) note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

The sounds of cutlery hitting the plates and the wooden table caused your cheeks to flush more, a hand rubbing at your nape as you began to avert your gaze from the group. Wide eyes were staring at you, as if you said something that was a complete shocker. God, this had to be worse than actually fighting Titans.

"You're what!?" Sasha was the one that finally broke the silence, hands slamming on the table as she got up from her seat abruptly.

"And to who?!" Connie followed suit, slamming his hands down but instead hitting his dinner, gravy sauce going everywhere. His face cringed at the mess but he still stared at you with seeming horror.

"Guys, it's not that serious."

"Bullshit, it's not serious! You're dating—"

"—And it's not Eren?!"

Your body tensed up immediately, realizing that he was the only one that barely reacted to your confession, still focused on his dinner as his now long brown hair marred the side of his face. A part of you felt nervous not being able to really know what he was thinking, the other part of you felt worried. Jean slapped the back of both Sasha and Connie's heads, a scowl on his face.

"Knock it off you two! Of course she wouldn't date him, we're talking about Eren for God's sake."

They started bickering with each other and you tried to resolve it as always, but every single sound and word started to muddle together like his head was pushed underwater. His fist clenched around his spoon, to the point where he could feel the metal bend to the shape of his hand. You didn’t pick him. He wasn't as nearly surprised as the others, mostly because he had already seen it coming, but witnessing it come true was a pain that was utterly indescribable.

Out of everyone, they had to be some random civilian that caught your eye. Someone who doesn’t know the true horrors of the world out there, someone who never struggled the same way you and he did growing up. Maybe he'd be fine if you ended up with Armin or fuck, even Jean was a viable option but no. You went off and found yourself some guy who didn't come close to understanding you.

It didn't make sense, Eren's been with you since the two of you could walk. He was the one that saved you over and over again by those bullies that taunted you and Armin, never minding the fact that Mikasa had to save everyone at the end of it. He was your shoulder to cry on, especially after everything that happened back when everyone was still young scouts. He was the one who sacrificed everything for you. Everyone in the squadron knew that the two of you were inseparable, like two peas in a pod. No wonder everyone was surprised that you guys didn't end up together but the Paths denied him the end he sought out for years, even if he had only seen the flashing glimpses of the inescapable future.

"Er— Ere... Eren. Hey Eren!" You snapped your fingers in front of his face, his gaze latching onto yours immediately. You always had such a kind look in your eyes, he's glad that it never went away despite what you've gone through.

"Your spoon." He looked down and saw that he completely severed the metal utensil in half, the indentations of his fingers prominent in the silver handle. The others were looking at him, puzzled and confused expressions on their faces. He knew what they were thinking. Why didn't you take a chance?

There was no chance to begin with. Eren was on the losing side of the game no matter what.

"Must've forgot how to hold a spoon. Remember what happened the last time I held one like this?" He mused, placing the broken halves down on the table. The more they quietly stared at him, the more he wanted to run out of the room with his shattered heart pieces. He dismissed himself out of the mess hall, saying that he was exhausted. They knew that he wasn't but none of them mustered a word of any sorrowful condolences, his frame disappearing into the shadows of the hallway.

The pitter-patter of running came up from behind him and he felt the brush of a hand against his, heart pumping back to life as he recognized the familiar texture of your skin. Eren looked beside him and saw you, smiling at him like you had no clue what was running through his mind. Breathlessly, you asked him a simple question.

"Rooftop?"

He nodded, letting you lead the way for him. Rooftop meant that you wanted to talk in the spot that you found for each other back when you two started in the Survey Corps, a flat area at the top of the building where the night sky was all that you could see. The rules were that you weren't allowed to bring anyone else up there besides each other and that you weren't allowed to go there without one another. Eren wouldn't admit it but he did sneak there every once in a while, basking in the memory of you and him being young and slightly naïve.

"You're upset." You finally stated as you settled yourself down on the floor, an old blanket covering the rough ground.

"I'm not."

"I know you are, you get all awkward about it instead of bursting out your feelings." He grimaced, was he really that predictable as a kid? Eren leaned himself back on the edge of the roof barrier, staring up at the sky.

"Are you... happy that I'm dating someone?" He could hear the hesitancy in your question, curiosity and fear intermingling. His hands clenched against the concrete, the texture scraping his skin. If he knew that this is what you wanted to talk about, he would've avoided you like the plague.

He took a slow inhale.

"What do you want to hear, the honest truth or an honest lie?" Eren heard you stand up and walk closer to him, cautious hands grabbing his and pulling him towards you.

"The truth."

You've always looked so pretty under the night sky, the way your eyes reflected the stars and the way the moon shone down on your form. He never told you because he was so scared of ruining what the two of you have. This was nothing like what he felt towards Mikasa or Armin. You were special, you were his. Now that he knew what lies beyond the future, he should've said something before. Would that have changed anything now?

"The truth is, I'm not happy. There's nothing you can say that will change my stance about it." You frowned and squeezed his hands before letting go of him, your warmth escaping him.

"Eren, you can't keep disapproving every man I'm interested in."

"Yes I can and I will. You've always had terrible taste, remember how you liked Bertolt back in training?" You gasped in horror, hitting his arm.

"Stop! I never want that to ever be brought up again and I only liked him because he helped me out that one time with the chores," There was a flush on your cheeks, embarrassed about how you once was ever interested in a traitor. "But I'm serious this time, this relationship is serious."

In all of his years of knowing you, serious was never a word that fit you. Eren rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning towards you.

"How long?"

"How long, what?"

"How long have you been seeing this guy?"

You started fidgeting your hands, your tell-tale sign that it's been a while and you're figuring out how to lie about it. You could never lie to him though, he'd always figure you out.

You finally sighed and relented, giving up on trying to say anything but the truth. "2 years."

"Fuck, so it was right under all of our noses huh?" His hand gripped against his sleeve, his voice almost shaking as he spoke. He thought that you trusted him with everything, whatever you tell him would be confidential. He would never snitch on you, he thought you knew that. Eren had to turn away from you because if he didn't, you would've witnessed the tears roll down his cheeks. He felt your hand against his back, slowly rubbing circles on his back.

He hated you. He hated the way you made him feel like a pile of mush. He hated how you pretended not to know that he loved you, not as the childhood friend but as the man who pined after you the minute he was able to comprehend what he was feeling towards you.

He hated your smile, that annoyingly beaming grin directed at him whenever and for whatever reason.

He hated your affection, how you pretended to truly care about him when you were off loving another man.

He hated your warmth, radiating like an everlasting sun and cheering everyone up as if you were a carbon copy of Historia.

With all the love he had for you, there was the same amount of hatred that came along with it.

Eren looked at you, turning his body towards yours and you looked at him. As if he was under a spell, he felt himself mouthing the words that he longed to tell you for years. Your reaction was unexpected, perhaps even completely expected. His cheek stung from your strike, your eyes big and wide as if a Titan just walked up in front of you.

"Eren, y-you don't mean that do you?" His hand rested on his cheek, his fingers digging into his skin.

"I meant every word," He uttered softly, suddenly grabbing your hands and pulling them close to his chest. "Do you feel it? I love you. I'll love you until my bones are nothing but dust, I'll love you until my lungs stop taking in air, I'll love you until the world falls apart. Please Y/N, I'm already forever yours. Will you be mine?"

There was only silence that came from you after his confession, the pounding reverb of his heart being the only thing he could hear. You pushed him away, a stunned and confused look reflecting in your moonlit eyes. He felt wounded, like you stabbed a blade even deeper into his chest.

"N-No, no. Eren, I'm already dating someone. You can't just say all of this now." Your hands gripped your uniform pants tightly, the fabric scrunching together. "You're too late."

He shakily sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. What he hated most about you was your ability to constantly deny anything that you didn't want to hear.

"I thought you might say that."

He was instantaneous, quick. You never reached the level of ability of being fast on your feet in sparring and you wouldn't ever beat him in it now. He pinned you down onto the old blanket, his hand gripping both of your wrists tightly together above your head as he rested himself in-between your legs. You fought back but he didn't budge, only pressing you harder into the ground. His other hand made quick work in removing your pants and undergarments, shoving your panties in your mouth to keep you silent. No one needs to know about the rooftop after all.

Eren's selfish, you've always known that he was. You just didn't know how deep it went, how his selfishness of what he had deemed was love for you dug in and rotted into his heart. You tried begging through the cloth, muffled and incoherent cries being the only thing that was heard. He clicked his tongue, dragging his thumb across your spit-slicked lips before giving you a light kiss on the side of your face.

"If I can't change your mind with words," Eren pulled back and drank in your partially nude body, admiring you as he watched tears form at the corners of your eyes. He placed his free hand over your mound, fingers barely inserting themselves into your folds, your body reactively shivering from his touch. "I'll fuck you over and over until you can think about nothing but me."

[dearinglovebot]

Answer all of the ship questions for clawen pretty pleaseeeeee

you are the moot who i would save first if tumblr caught on fire one day. god bless

who hogs the duvet?

claire and she has no shame about it. she hogs blanket and mattress. he is resigned to a tiny strip of bed, cold, shivering, completely blanketless...

who texts/rings to check how their day is going?

owen because claire experiences work hyperfocus at such intensity that she will momentarily forget she has a family and someone needs to remind her to eat lunch

who's the most creative when it comes to gifts?

claire online shops on websites so niche the average human cannot comprehend them but owen is better at giving customized handcrafts. that's a man who knows how to whittle.

who gets up first in the morning?

controversially going with owen. "claire is work-brained" yes, but she's so work-brained that it keeps her up later thus requires more time sleeping in. owen has the sleep tendencies of an old lady and wakes up right at dawn.

who suggests new things in bed?

listen... all i'm saying is that when we look at canon... only one of them is implied to be into biting. if anyone is getting freaky... i think we have our answer

who cries at movies?

owen because claire insists they're "just fiction, owen" and "i'm going to cry about real things". he approaches movies as entertainment and she approaches movies like they're puzzles to solve

who gives unprompted massages?

owen. no question.

who fusses over the other when they're sick?

they're going to take care of the other if either is sick. claire fusses in an over-vigilant always keeping her eye on the person way where owen is actively asking "do you need something to eat? do you need something to drink? in another hour you'll need to take more pills". but that said, the fussing would drive claire crazier because she's going to try harder to deny that she's sick at all. no, she doesn't need cough syrup. she is perfectly healthy (said minutes before fainting).

who gets jealous the easiest?

canon makes a very strong case for it being owen. between his dialogue in fallen kingdom and the legends of isla nublar episode dedicated to him jealously seething, that man is fighting for his life.

who has the most embarrassing music taste?

in maisie's perspective, owen. he'd probably be into old country with guys singing over their guitars about beer, farming, trucks, and women. which maisie will think is very cringe because who even likes country these days. meanwhile claire is more acceptable because her taste is more inline with blues/soul and jazz.

who collects something unusual?

owen is way more likely to. claire would collect something like postage stamps or old coins that's kind of lame but pretty unnotable. owen would have go for something that's kind of funny like animal football team mascot bobbleheads for each city they go to.

who takes the longest to get ready?

claire because she considers getting ready a process to complete. owen considers getting ready "putting pants on".

who is the most tidy and organized?

claire is meticulously devoted to keeping things exactly as she wants them. owen isn't messy, but he does think a house should be lived in. claire on the other hand labels every file on her computer with relevant names and uses tags. she approaches everything in life like this. it's fun and comforting to her

who gets most excited about the holidays?

owen is the one who wants to put up decorations and make specific food. claire doesn't particularly have any strong connection to the holidays until she starts reconnecting with karen + the boys and finds her own family. she enjoys holidays because her family enjoys them. owen enjoys them because he is full of whimsy and believes in living life to the fullest

who is the big/little spoon?

controversial opinion: they do not have defined roles. sometimes there isn't a big spoon, sometimes it's owen, sometime's it's claire. owen is more likely to fall into the role because he likes knowing she's close meanwhile claire likes being held because it feels more secure (she would love weighted blankets) BUT every night they just do what feels natural for that night

who gets more competitive when playing games and/or sports?

they both terrify maisie during boardgames because they can't help getting way too competitive with each other specifically, but claire is more likely to threaten to kick him out of the house if he launches another banana peel at her in mario kart. owen is a good sport and she is... working on that.

who starts the most arguments?

one of their favorite bonding activities is bickering. claire probably has more things to nit-pick but he's playing into every argument willingly because he likes to bother her

who suggests that they buy a pet?

they already have two pet velociraptors and they are 100% owen's fault. all future pets will go this same route. claire is always going to act like she doesn't want anything to do with getting one and maisie and owen will talk her into it and she has to pretend that she doesn't also love it after a few days of meeting it

what couple traditions do they have?

board shorts, tequila, date itinerary. they can't go for a night out alone without mentioning one or more. it's always "at least you aren't wearing shorts this time" or "what time is desert on the itinerary?"

what tv shows do they watch together?

shondaland. if it was produced by shondaland, they are tuning in. gray's anatomy, bridgerton, scandal... they're seated. they're discussing it in depth after each episode too.

what other couple do they hang out with?

alan and ellie, duh. but they'd also get along with sarah and ian. they might also go out with barry and who ever he's currently dating. and claire would insist on spending time with whoever zia's seeing, too. in that case, owen is defineltly getting deemed the token straight guy who has to keep grabbing the food and drinks for them because of #feminsim.

how do they spend time together as a couple?

parallel play is how they spend a lot of the day when they're both home. he does his thing, she does hers, but always in the same room. but theres also shondaland time or maisie and owen dragging claire on outdoor adventures or talking before bed.

who made the first move?

i go back and forth on this. on the one hand, owen would have no problem asking her out immediately. on the other, claire is a girlboss who also goes after what she wants. i lean towards owen though because claire is emotionally stunted with a massive ego about any level of vulnerability

who brings flowers home?

owen. he doesn't buy them though. just plucks them and claire doesnt ask if he had to jump a fence to do it .

who is the best cook?

claire cannot cook. at all. owen is the only one in that house actually making anything. maisie learns from owen. she just watches and sits there for moral support

[chanafehs]

looking back years ago, do you regret any of your previous actions or fights on here? i can't help but look back on the DA fandom from 2014-2018 and just cringe. so many sapphics of color fighting each other over which fictional white man they did/didn't like.

I literally don’t even know how to respond to this

[deepestuniversallove]

Hey I literally logged in just to give you support. Don't listen to these idiots telling you that you're gross for loving Mewtwo.

Because if loving Mewtwo is gross then the entire monster-fucking community should also be shamed but they aren't hmmmmmm I wonder why.

The degenerates in this fandom are perfectly fine with Ash fucking Latias, and men fucking Gardevoir, Vaporeon, or whatever slutty monster girl bitch of the week, but nooo you self shipping with Mewtwo is apparently cONcERnING or whatever.

(I love how no one calls the Hatsune Miku guy names lol, do I smell double standards? )

But this doesn't surprise me because the Pokemon community is full of hypocrites and these are the same no - life losers who shit their pants because Ash isn't in the anime anymore, their parents truly failed in raising them.

Lord knows I faced enough trouble for loving Steven and that too, from an Eevee fucker.

Monika, sweetie you are doing nothing wrong, your love for Mewtwo is so innocent, sweet and pure. I think it's beautiful how helped you with depression and escape your narcissistic mother.

People on this site love to preach mental health support but the very minute you do something different yet harmless suddenly it's

"OH NO YOU DARE TO LOVE A "FICTIONAL CHARACTER"

Keep on giving them rectal bleeding and draw more of you and Mewtwo ;) I love to see it.

AHH thank you so much for this message!! 🥹 That is so sweet of you!

Yeah, I dunno why it has always been like this. Even 10 or even 20 years ago, I often got messages chastising me for selfshipping with Mewtwo, calling it "nasty" and "degenerate", when really, i am not doing it to specifically be a degenerate, but because I honestly love Mewtwo. In his story, he too had to fight against a narcissistic "parent" (Giovanni), just like I had to against my own. How can it be seen as a crime to want to believe? Or has it been wrong to say "Mewtwo, please teach me to be brave like you" in my mind during the hard times, especially back when I was a lonely child?

Haha, I doubt anyone could ever shame the monster fucker community out of what they are doing. Or the furry community for that matter. 🤣

There always seems to be some sort of underlying misogyny happening. Women are expected to get an IRL husband/boyfriend to serve as soon as possible, so seeing a woman openly rather selfship with a fictional character is threatening to them, because how dare a woman not be in the kitchen and make sandwiches for a man? How dare a woman prefer to be single when there is a "male crisis of loneliness" happening?

Then again, I don't think I owe society anything. Where was society when I was abused? Where was the help or the community when I needed them most? I was left to my own devices. When a fictional character like Mewtwo brings someone like me more hope than any IRL human, that's how I know we failed as a society. Even sicker is that other more destructive forms of coping mechanisms are more encouraged. Somehow selfshipping is seen as more evil by the "moral police" than dying from a drug overdose on the streets or having alcoholism.

Anyone who ever complains to me about "ruining Mewtwo" or whatever - no, you aren't "concerned", you are just using that word to camouflage that what you really want is control over me and what I put out there. And i can tell you it is futile. I haven't survived so far just for some snotty brats to tell me what i can or cannot do in MY online space. Don't like what I post? Tough titties, use the block button. No one is forcing you to look at my "cringe". My cringy stuff brings me joy and makes me happy, and I feel I deserve some happiness in this shitty world of ours. You do too, so just..go and have some fun yourself. Don't waste your only life on policing others.

So yeah, you are right, dagdasgoddess. I will keep giving people "rectal bleeding". 🤣 No one can stop me from loving Mewtwo, my guardian angel that even visits me in my dreams at night, and loves me even when I absolutely despise myself. He will always be a bastion of love for me, a symbol that life is worth living regardless of hardships.

[skyfall8600]

Sucked In: Chap 23: 1983 and the not so disappearance of Will Byers

Summary: You wake up in the world of Stranger Things before the events of Season 4. Are you able to help in the fight against Vecna, and save the man of your dreams?

Pair: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warning: swearing, Upside Down, blood-mentioned.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Previous: Chapter 22

Next: Chapter 24

[1.2k words]

Note: Tags don’t seem to be working again :( 

Time was a tricky thing. No one really knows how it works; theoretically we see time as a linear process, all the events playing out one after the other. But there are theories that all points in time simultaneously happen, with realities layered on top of others. There was no way to say what was real or fiction; what was yet to come vs what has already happened. Time just worked different. 

It was late a Thursday night. The 6th of November, 1983 to be exact; the boys were gathered around the table and ready for battle. They had been engrossed in hours of D&D. 

“The Demogorgon approaches, what do you do?” Mike said theatrically, looking towards his friends. 

It was Will’s turn. “I– I choose a fireball!” He said, rolling the dice a little too harshly as he rolled off the table and onto the basement floor. 

They should have rushed to see what it landed on; to see how the game would play out and if Will the Wise would be captured or not by the hideous beast. But time seemed to snap in place, because as soon as the dice finished rolling… the young boys around the table fell into silence; their young selves recalling every riveting detail of what had occurred prior to the destruction of the crystal; remembering how the future was supposed to play out. 

Before any of them could say a word, Nancy rushed down stairs. Normally, she would leave the boys to play their game; but she too had a burst of memories. 

“It– we– holy shit it worked.” She said, “The crystal worked! Y/n was right!” They hugged and jumped together, ecstatic that they were finally free and safe. 

Mrs. Wheeler yelled from upstairs, telling them to keep the noise down. 

“I gotta call Steve!” Nancy said, practically tripping over her feet as she rushed to the phone. 

“El– where do you think she’d be?” Mike said, cringing when he heard how squeaky his voice was. “Oh no…. Oh no no no– we’re in middle school again!” 

“I am not going outside tonight.” Will said, eyes wide as he remembered what was out there waiting for him. “What if– what if it didn’t work, and now we just relive everything twice? I can’t handle that… I can’t go through that again.” 

He was on the brink of tears before Lucas draped an arm around him. “Dude– if you do make it home tonight, without the Demogorgon snatching you, then we’ll know for sure that it worked.” 

Will shook his head, trying to distract himself by recollecting the dice that fell. When he saw it landed on 12; this time, he didn’t roll too low. “I– I did it, the Demogorgon didn’t get me. Last time… last time I rolled a 7, too low for me to kill it. I got a 12… I’m safe.” 

He felt relieved, suckling into his friends’ embrace as they celebrated. Well, all besides Mike. 

“We have to find El! What if she’s still at the lab?” He screamed, causing for his mother to make her way down stairs. 

“Boys! Too loud and its late. You boys have school tomorrow.” She said. 

They froze to look at her, expecting for her become emotional with the memories of the cursed events to come. 

“What? Why are you staring at me like that? You know the rules on a school night, off you go.” She said, leaving them be. 

“She doesn’t remember.” Dustin said, “Our parents don’t remember! – oh my god, Suzie doesn’t know who I am yet!” 

Mike rolled his eyes, “Dustin focus… El could still be in danger if she’s at the lab. Tomorrow, straight after school, we have to make sure Hopper finds her.” The boys nodded; Dustin pouting slightly because his girlfriend was aware she was his girlfriend yet. 

And so they rode their bikes home, into the darkness of night. Will arrived home, Jonathan and Joyce hugging him instantly and crying. They too remembered. 

Once Dustin got home, he tested his mother’s remember. She remained oblivious to any of the deaths or destruction that the little town would become known for. Since Nancy called Steve, Dustin didn’t really want to deal with his overly parental concerns… and then his mind drifted to Eddie. 

Eddie Munson who was unaware of the dangers the group faced in the years prior to them meeting in High school. Eddie Munson who would currently be friendless, struggling at home with his new life living with Wayne. Eddie Munson who was terrified that he would lose you…

He had to call Eddie. 

He dialled the number, his heart beating fast with each ring. 

“Ah- hello?” Eddie’s voice croaked on the other end. He had been sleeping, almost entire knocked out and irritated that someone had called so late it woke him up. 

“Eddie?” Dustin spoke softly, unsure if he could handle it if Eddie didn’t remember him. Eddie HAD to remember him. 

“Hender- HENDERSON!” His voice changed from groggy to ecstatic, “Holy shit– Jesus H Christ.” 

“Eddie, do you remember what happened?” Dustin asked, speaking over Eddie as he continued to swear into the phone. “I mean, if you knew it was me and we haven’t exactly met yet.”

Eddie laughed, “The hell are you on about kid? Of course I remember! I can’t believe it worked, she was a fucking genius– wait, what do you mean we haven’t met yet?!” 

Dustin sighed, “Eddie, it’s 1983.”

Eddie dropped the phone, ignoring Dustin’s ‘hellos’ on the other end. Eddie rushed into the bathroom, and sure enough, his hair was shorter and all his tattoos were gone. Well, not gone per-say, he just hadn’t gotten them yet. 

“Shit.” 

“Eddie!” Dustin’s faint voice spoke from the small speaker of the phone. 

Swearing again, Eddie picked up the phone. His hand was shaking. “Yeah– sorry. I just– fuck this is really weird.”

“You don’t say. Look, meet us after school tomorrow and we’ll sort out the damage then. We don’t really know who remembers– I think just the people that were around when the crystal broke might remember….” 

Eddie tried to respond and listen carefully to his friend. “God you sound like a baby– forgot how much younger than me you were Henderson.” 

“Oh shut up old man; see you tomorrow.” He laughed, handing up the phone and ending the call. Leaving Eddie all alone in silence. 

Although his surroundings were dead quiet; Eddie’s mind was anything but quiet. For a moment he was annoyed at the idea that he would repeating most of high school, even though it is technically the first time. But for the rest of the night, all he could do was think about you. 

He had no way of knowing where in the world you were; or if you even were in the same world as him. Your idea of destroying the crystal had worked; but to what extent? 

He was afraid that if he were to never see you again, then he’d forget you. And he wouldn’t allow himself to forget you. He grabbed the closest notebook he could find, ripping out the pages of random song lyrics he knew he’d never use, as started to write down everything he could remember about you. 

He started with the way you laughed, the way you sung to yourself and hummed when you thought no one was around. He wrote how you smiled, the way your rose crinkled to one side slightly more than the other if you were disgusted at something. 

He wrote the lyrics to the song you taught him and how you’d always cling the t-shirt he wore in your fist as he slept; crying slowly to himself as he was afraid he’d never be able to hold you like that again. 

He didn’t want to waste any time writing down every detail. He didn’t want to forget.

________________________________________________________________

@staff​ - please fix the bug for why people aren’t being notified when i tag them! 

Eddie Munson Taglist:

@fentyreligion @littlelunarfox @coconutchumby @eempxth @superflannel @fluffycookies22 @yearwalker96 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @grungegrrrl​@m1rkw00dpr1ncess @dixontardis @buckyslwts @bratckerman @dani-d0rk @musicmoviestv @tomshelbystits @reddisteddie @ungracefularchimedes @santaatemypuppy @cherryrevenger @chipster-21​ @grungegrrrl @azaleaforsure

Series Taglist:

@gobringmemyfood @munchabunch @empty-and-nameless @el1997 @gooblerstan @bigbundabucket @theprettyandthereckless @earthtokace @ifellinlovewithawarsblog @secretsicanthideanymore @blueberryhitosh1 @maryan028 @bakugouswh0r3  @loliakeoghan23 @gamorxa @stardustworlds @bakugouswh0r3 @taeddybearkim @azaleaitsgreen @eddiemunsonslips @awhoreforeddiemunson @strangerthingsstories5255 @queenotaku23 @sweetberry47 @sammararaven @anothermunsonsimp @megumimind @zephyrs-world ​@thegirlwhohides

@whoreforhowl @kaitebugg03 @preciousbabypeter @snapped-chopstick @cutiecusp @sl-tfor-joseph-quinn 

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 3rd September ✨

I think it’s criminal to have to work on a Sunday instead of going on a little walk and listening to little podcasts, but here we are 🫠 It’s been a frankly ridiculous week of listening and there’s still so much more I haven’t had time to catch yet! 

🌲@hellofromthehallowoods (131) Percy! Going to get Diggory! I think it makes it so bittersweet that he was about to apologise off the bat because you just KNOW that when they meet for real it won’t happen that easily. My god, I could listen to.a whole show just about this hastily assembled Friends of Zelda team. It’s so lovely to have Alice back in the narrative and I care for Tattery Stabs so much!! ‘How much do you like your brother?’ Really cracked me up. I love how hfth takes horror tropes (e.g. creepy doll) and they’re immediately someone new to love.  Speaking of someone to love!! Hector is putting in a really good bid for the award of ‘most traumatised man in the Hallowoods’, though the competition remains tough. This experience will no doubt have changed him, I can’t wait to find out how!

🦀 @thesiltverses (31) So many new and familiar voices in this new season and all of them are delightful! The writing and delivery of Val’s monologue in particular was so powerful and I was left cringing in my skin at the callous assertions that she is controllable… did we just hear the same thing? I have no idea what is going to happen this season and it’s thrilling and terrifying in equal measure! 

🦮 @malevolentcast (35) This episode is such a rollercoaster oh my god!! There are so many layers of horror here! Not just the fear of the ‘other’ and of what other humans can do, but also the intrinsic fear of losing the self.  What’s happening with John is so very unsettling, it’s been so long that we’ve almost taken for granted the way that John guides Arthur . . . what will he do when he can’t trust John’s assessment of the situation? 

📻 @monstrousagonies (110) penultimate?! Excuse me??!! Penultimate!!! How am I going to cope without having fictional night folk problems solving my actual real life problems every week?? Panic aside, I really loved this episode. I was so glad to hear the presenter telling the author of the first letter that it actually wouldn’t be unreasonable to kick off just a little. I’ve often thought about just bringing a cat home and seeing what my wife would do . . . (I know this is bad, it’s not going to happen 👀) BUT a CHILD? And aw, yay, what a satisfying end to an unsatisfactory CEO. It was a pleasure to meet station and the MA community was in fine voice! 

🌒 @monkeymanproductions Moonbase Theta Out FINALE!! I’m not going to share too many thoughts today because it may not even be out at the time of posting but IT’S AMAZING GO LISTEN!!!! Seriously, I cried so much at the thought of this show being over. I’ve loved it for such a long time and it’s been amazing to listen to it grow and see all the team’s hard work pay off spectacularly! 

🧛‍♂️ @re-dracula what a busy, busy week for the Dracula characters! Marriages, millions of kisses, casual medical abuse, VAN HELSING. What a week. 

🧬 Regina Prime (7) Damn, Epsilon has both the fire and the fight! Veeerrryyy interesting that Omega needs an assistant with a physical body… what have you got, Omega? I’m imagining a clone that is 1000s of years old, more mush than human. And the slip up with the number of clones . . .  Omega . . . ? Something you want to share with the rest of the class?? 

 💫 Wolf 359 (49 - 50) I am usually not the biggest fan of time loop stories but, of course, if W359 makes it, you know it’s gonna be great. The whole set up of the aliens being unable to communicate clearly because Doug chats absolute shit all the time is just so endearing to me. I can’t believe I’m getting so close to the end! 

🏴‍☠️ Yes, I did listen to the @levianpod pilot again. What of it? Please, please support this show if you can! It must be made. I need it. 

🎧 So lovely to hear from @thestoragepapers in last week’s episode of The First Episode Of! I feel like it’s so brave to ask for people to join in on the writing of your show but we love to see a collaboration thriving!! I need to bump this up my to-listen list! 

🐬 @patterspod (3) Fiona Caruso, the woman, the myth, the legend. Someone needs to check in on the thriller writers because they’re just not okay… Also, Ryan, you idiot. I don’t even know if we can blame the influence of some eldritch force on these bad publishing attempts, but I feel like he’s going to snap like one of twig man’s branches at the slightest supernatural pressure. Which will be fun for us, at least! 

All these amazing episodes, but my ears are bigger than my schedule and I still need to listen to new KILL FM. I’ve been really, really meaning to catch up on Additional Postage Required as well! Here’s hoping for a more chilled week next week! 🤞

[papakhan]

People wanna fuck a character the fandom generally don’t give a fuck about and get so obnoxious about it truly the worst kind of people

I mean like hey man I wanna fuck Regis and I know no one gives a fuck about him, and like I truly don't mind if someone finds a fictional character hot. There's nothing I can do about it beyond rolling my eyes at Another female courier who vulpes is obsessed with and who's the exception to the legions "no girls allowed" rule because she's just sooo badass. It's dumb but what am I gonna do? I'm the king of being cringe and free. And tbh I think Boone fuckers are just as bad sometimes when it comes to being obnoxious about their child murdering fave who they write as getting over the wife he murdered just in time to fuck their fem courier.

All that said, I don't think I've ever seen someone using right wing dogwhistle terms like "woke mob" when talking about shipping or talking about how hot they think fictional men are, which is what makes the blog I mentioned highly suspicious in my mind. Also like tagging ALL these posts with the three main fnv tags as well as popular characters like arcade and just the constant spam as well as plastering all their posts with "don't like? Don't interact!!" even tho like I'm sure the last thing you'd want is reach if you're expecting people to react poorly. They're either an actual right winger who just made a fake account and is trying to get into fights with "woke fnv fans" for kicks or an actual child who's using every Internet term they know from twitter to try and achieve some kind of weird clout? That's just my personal speculation anyway I've already blocked them and have no intention of looking them up again

[livvyofthelake]

now that we’ve been sitting on it for four months i need to rank the tortured poets department for real… it means nothing to rank an album two days after it comes out like that’s pointless fr let’s take this seriously

guilty as sin. this is an insane song. unfortunately i read a book the week this album came out and this song is permanently attached to that book in a small part but as we all know i did my absolute best to remain chill neutral and only weird about tsc at the time of this album drop so it all balanced out in the end and none of the songs are particularly associated with anything cringe. except two. but not this one i only brought up the book because it’s a little bit associated. you understand. the song is a slay of epic proportions on its own of course. i’ve mentally made this one about so many fictional guys it’s crazy… we have fun huh

my boy only breaks his favorite toys. this one was my instant favorite she’s not going anywhereeeee

but daddy i love him. some people don’t understand it but i do… i love her…

the alchemy. honestly? who are we to fight the alchemy…. literally!!!!

the albatross. sort of like who’s afraid of little old me if it was a song i liked more!

so high school. what more is there to say than truth dare spin bottles you know how to ball i know aristotle brand new full throttle touch me while your bros play grand theft auto it’s true swear scouts honor you knew what you wanted and boy you got her brand new full throttle you already know babe…

florida. cunty! florence + the machine!

the black dog. aforementioned two songs. well we knew this would be one. like we knew that the whole time. what could i possibly have done to save this one… genuinely what could i possibly have done. we saved the album in time i know but i mean. we all knew this track was a goner. nothing to be done. it’s a great song though like genuinely let’s be honest… one out of 31 is a great ratio. april 18th me was expecting a much worse percentage tbh

down bad. i just like it :)

who’s afraid of little old me. mildly over saturated. but kinda deserved the hype she slays

fresh out the slammer. one of aforementioned two songs that kinda got ruined. this song is about cbs drama fire country forever there’s nothing to be done. it’s not a huge loss this song is a little mid if i’m being honest. i think it’s too short i don’t fuck with it heavily

fortnight. my husband is cheating!! i wanna kill him!!!!

the prophecy. song that makes you cry…

the smallest man who ever lived. crazy ass bridge. rest of the song. well.

i can fix him (no really i can). i like that this song title is formatted like a fanfiction title that’s a lyric to a taylor swift song…

imgonnagetyouback. like. cute fun song sure yes. cannot get it out of my head that me personally if i had asked for writing credits from olivia rodrigo on a song that sounded nothing like my song, i personally would not have released this. me personally…

how did it end. crazy song that makes you go damn her life suckssss for real… yikes!

i can do it with a broken heart. not even a bad song it’s just the popular one with swifties and i hear it all the time without my consent.

the tortured poets department. can i be honest. sometimes taylor swift writes songs that would be awesome if not for one utterly batshit ridiculous lyric that embarrasses me so bad i can’t even fuck with the song. this has happened many times she’s an embarrassing celebrity to like everyone knows this. it’s not even the “you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate we declared charlie puth should be a bigger artist” that’s actually fine. it’s what comes directly after that. “i scratch your head you fall asleep like a tattooed golden retriever” taylor. 😐 i can’t. i can’t even talk about this actually. also i can’t stand the lucy dacus and jack antonoff name drop lyrics at all like taylor please stop embarrassing me….

i do not actively listen to any of the other ones anymore so i just didn’t include them because why would i rank songs i don’t even listen to let’s take this seriously… they’re fine. the only one i might describe as a song i actively dislike is chloe or sam or sophia or marcus. like i do not care for that one at all

[gib-mir-gift]

making an oc list here cuz i keep forgetting my own fictional people

Julius - manisfestation of depression, anxiety, eating disorders, intrustive thoughts, and just generally everything wrong with me. favourite drawing is of it sitting in a window and waving.

Maximus - julius brother. same routine different font. favourite drawing is of him puppeteering me while singing 'gehenna' by slipknot.

Johannes - the child of krampus. basically krampus jr but a major stoner. favourite drawing is of them smoking while studying a snow globe.

Amsterdam - johannes asshole cat. the soul of their best friend (who was a human named Virgo that died) was moved into his cats body to live on. the cat body got fucked up tho so hes obviously not a normal pet cat. favourite drawing is of his soul moving from his human body to the cat body.

Melodic - think venom meets an alternate from 'the mandela catelogue' (though i created it before i knew what venom was + before tmc came out). way too many teeth, communicates via low hums that sort of mimic human singing. favourite drawing is of it crouching in a door frame.

Brennan Walker - the cringefail loser that melodic loves putting through situations n circumstances n such. think paul matthews from tgwdlm but worse in ways that nmt couldnt even begin to comprehend. favourite drawing is of him lifeless on the floor while melodic looks at him like a kid looking at a bug under a rock.

Flatline - what brennan turns into when melodic finally gets bored. favourite drawing is its existential crisis/joy overload at what its become and the torture from melodic being over.

ZebraSpider - spidersona. deaf trans woman. she can jump over pretty much any building, and her fighting style mimics an aerial silk performance. favourite drawing is of her beating the absolute fuck out of her nemesis.

Mister Formid - zebraspiders nemesis. supernatural ability to control peoples stress levels (can make you feel calm, nervous, euphoric, pure dread, etc etc) just by looking at them. favourite drawing is him getting the absolute fuck beat out of him by zebraspider.

Matthew 'Keys' Köhler - ghostbusters oc. blind in one eye, tattoo sleeve of keys, slut gay autistic enby (they/he) that joined between gb1 and gb2. best friend is winston. faceclaim is ayre gross. favourite drawing is of them sucking face with peter.

Elija Zeddemore - another ghostbusters oc. winstons younger brother, aroace king, plays chess with egon a lot. best friends with janine. faceclaim is corey dorris. favourite drawing is of him unimpressed by winston covered in exploded stay puft marshmallow man.

Umberella - a birman 'cats' oc. best friends with plato and admetus. his human family moved to the area of the junkyard then abandoned him when moving back. he doesnt care cuz he likes the jellicles infinitely more than them. favourite drawing is of him trying to slut it out for skimble during the jellicle ball ('trying' cuz skimble is immune to his flirting).

Nettle - umberellas older sibling. closer to cassandra, alonzo, munkustrap, and demeter but her best friend is bombalurina (who calls him 'nett' which very very conveniently means 'nice'). they spend a lot of time sleeping and sunbathing and literally nothing else

Dugal Jones - pronounced 'doo-gull'. i am cringe but i am free cuz i made this maggotsona to be craigs kid. sampler that also plays bass in their spare time. the most goat/sheep themed lil dude you have ever seen in your life. favourite drawing is of them being taught how to play piano by clown.

Ae'ito - 'avatar' oc. ometicaya hunter. part of tsu'teys close friend group (before tsu'tey died) then became a close friend of mo'at, norm, and max after the clan moved to the mountains. favourite drawing is of her braiding the hair of norms avatar.

Fernweh - my fursona. black, red, yellow, and a very light burgandy coloured sabertooth dog (i have yet to decide the type of dog but their canine features tend to be very german shephard). favourite drawing is of them in a crop top that says "fat men are hot".

i have like 20 other furry ocs that i am entirely too lazy to include here so all youre getting is my fursona lmao