#i THINK thats everything major... it must be

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

big question. i'm cis (afab) and my gf is trans (amab) and i'm sorta having a hard time reconciling something. i've been a hard line feminist since i was about 8, by 12 i was a practical library on everything and anything womens lib. i'm spending a lot more time around trans people especially my gf now and i'm sorta struggling to reconcile the trans experience with my feminism. like- i'll see trans women being like "i hate my body :(" "my voice is awful" "i need [x thing to try to pass] ugh" and like my first thought is always "NO! THATS HOW THEY FUCKING GET YOU!!! THE PATRIARCHY WANTS YOU TO HATE YOURSELF SO YOU ENSLAVE YOURSELF TO CAPITALISM AND LIVE IN A CONSTANT STATE OF NEED FOR NEW PRODUCTS TO WARD OFF THE EVER PRESENT SELF HATRED BROUGHT ON YOU BY SOCIETY" and they go "well then how do i pass/transition?" and i honestly don't know and i also don't know how far it goes before its no longer dysphoria but instead the intentional subjugation of women by patriarchy for profit. i wanna help my fellow ladies but i honestly don't know how to like- apply the feminism i was taught as a child to trans women and i want to learn as soon as possible so that i can start doing it like yesterday

hi there,

I'll be honest: if it feels hard to apply the feminism you learned as a kid to your trans friends, that's probably because the feminism you were taught didn't have trans woman in mind.

luckily, the answer to this is something that I consider to be feminism 101: what a woman does with her body is, ultimately, her fucking business.

listen: I agree with you that the beauty industry(TM) is evil. it's misogynistic, it's exploitative, it thrives by making women feel bad enough about themselves to make them spend money on shit they don't need, etc. we all know this.

now, having said that: women who like makeup or wear heels or get laser hair removal or whatever other asinine thing are not my oppressor, nor are they my enemy. dare I say, we have bigger problems.

we also need to consider that many trans women are coming to these choices from a VERY different place than many cis women are. while I think my fellow cis women really benefit from reminders that they're allowed to stop shaving or wearing eyeliner or dieting or whatever, that's because most of us have had those actions forced on us from very young ages and may genuinely need a hand to feel secure breaking out of those behaviors.

the majority of trans women are not coming from a background where they were encouraged to partake in the same personal grooming habits and modes of presentation as cis women; many of them have, in fact, been ostracized, bullied, threatened, and otherwise hurt because of forays into forms of presentation that are considered feminine. no matter how good your intentions may be, approaching your advice indelicately can, unfortunately, make you come across as no different than any transphobe on the street trying to enforce cisnormative societal expectations. it also must be said that, for many trans women, the ability to "pass" is a matter of security - for having their status as women recognized at all, and to avoid harassment and abuse in public spaces. if you live in America, like I do, politicians in power currently have an extremely explicit anti-trans agenda that can make it harrowing to be visible as a trans person, and trans women in particular are frequently targeted for violence.

there are absolutely critiques to be made the way the many trans women are expected to perform hyperfemininity. the notion that someone is duty bound to drastically change their appearance in order to transition at all is itself extremely rooted in cisnormativity, and "passing" is often contingent on being young, thin, able-bodied, reasonably wealthy, and hewing as closely to Eurocentric standards of beauty as possible. that's not awesome! but that's also not the fault of any individual; no trans person asked to be born into a world where gender norms are so narrow and failing to pass can come with a very real risk of physical danger.

also, if I can circle back to this: again, women who participate in aspects of the beauty industry are not our enemies. there are always going to be some number of women who enjoy doing their makeup or like spending time fussing over their little outfits or want breast implants or whatever. some of those women are going to be trans. my official feminist stance on this is that I don't give a shit, because I believe in bodily autonomy even when it involves things I would not do personally and the choices that individual women make about how they want to style their little meat body don't even crack the top 100 things that I'm worried about right now. it's actually kind of vitally important, politically, that trans people be able to safely pursue their preferred gender expression; while it's not particularly revolutionary for a cis woman to go outside all dolled up, whether a trans woman can do that safely is a pretty basic litmus test for how safe a given space is for queer people. it's a ridiculously low bar, and many places will still fail to clear it.

so, yeah, I don't know, dude. be there to talk to your trans girlies if they want to start unpacking some of the pressure they feel to conform to a very rigid idea of womanhood, but whether or not they can walk down the street in your neighborhood safely is a WAY bigger issue than whether they decide to do voice training or not.

if you really want to cut to the root of the insecurity and vulnerability that the beauty industry thrives on exploiting, your time is much better spent working to ensure the trans women in your life feel safe and supported and have a community where they can find support regardless of how they look.

necessary disclaimer I'm a cis girl, any transfemme folks please share your voice here and feel free to clap my ass if I've said something out of line.

[robbyykeene]

@laniidae-passerine responding to you ask here bc I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone. Serious spoilers for part 3 discussed below. You’ve been warned, read at your own risk:

got curious and checked out the CK Reddit (again, devil couldn’t get to me so had to invent new and terrible means) to see what the leaks and spoilers were for pt.3 and I swear if they’re true, I’m going to blow myself up. idk if you know them/want to hear them (will send in another ask if you do) but I think CK might be going toe to toe with HIMYM for the worst ‘pulled it out our ass’ ending ever

@gaffney sent me the spoilers and yeah lol they’re so fucking stupid. But tbh it’s everything i expected to happen after they let robby win the captain spot, and especially after part 2. Idk if these writers just really fucking hate robby or if they ultimately dont give a fuck about any of them so long as the red-pilled mra side of the fanbase is satisfied, but either way it is just such bad writing. they spend literally the entire show depicting how awful cobra kai is, culminating in a child literally dying, but theyre going to have EVERYONE rejoin cobra kai because the show is called that so obviously it must mean it has to end with it 🙄 even ignoring the robby of it all it is genuinely insane that daniel is going to willingly let johnny “wrap cobra kai gis around his children” when thats exactly what silver threatened to do and it made daniel (rightfully) lose his mind. If they want johnny back in ck fine, if they want miguel to be captain and win for ck fine, but they could have had Daniel and Robby decide that Mr. Miyagi was right. Competitions are meaningless and after Kwon’s death they’re not going to fight anymore. Daniel quits karate, Robby takes over Miyagi-Do to teach self-defense and balance but not competition, and Johnny and Miguel get the tournament win. And they all live happily ever after or fucking whatever. At least that would somewhat make sense character wise, even if it ultimately marks these entire 6 seasons meaningless. But nope! Robby’s getting his knee shattered because he’s cursed forever to pay for the sins of his father (who never has to pay for his own sins), and Daniel and family willingly joining Cobra Kai. It’s such a joke and just dogshit writing it’s almost funny. And the worst part is, the vast majority of the fanbase will be thrilled and critics will have nothing but praise and blow smoke up these writers asses even more than they already have.

[vigilskeep]

hi! ive seen you talk about your surana a bunch but i dont know if ive seen her full story. what were some of the pivotal decisions she made? i love hearing you talk about your ocs, theyre always so in depth and thought out!

oh thank you!! :) my surana is my Eldest Daughter from my very first full playthrough of a dragon age game, so i think a lot of people newer to the blog (like... from less than a year and a half ago probably lmao) have less of the context in complete form. so i will attempt to summarise!! it may be... long...

minerva surana is a manipulative, driven elven circle mage, heart-breakingly willing to sacrifice whatever she believes is necessary for her Grand Goals, who is often so busy playing 5d chess she forgets she’s a twenty-one year old with no experience of the world outside the tower

okay it did turn out fucking long the rest is under the cut its like 9 bulky paragraphs enjoy

her family were tevinter liberati, elven slaves who had devoted themselves to buying their way out and very recently succeeded. her parents were desperate to see her and her elder sibling grow up knowing only freedom, and sent their children south with another part of the family while they remained to pay off the last of their debts. the journey was long and difficult, and they had little left when they ended up in the denerim alienage. in a twist of bitter irony, magic that might have made minerva someone of value in the imperium saw her freedom once more revoked in the south. minerva remembers nothing of tevinter, and only a few fragments of what came next: of light through the vhenadahl’s branches glinting on a templar’s blade, of her sibling fighting them and being knocked to the ground, terribly still, with blood in their hair, and of her grandmother saying what she might have said many times on that long journey south: we can survive anything, as long as we never look back. ironically, minerva often took that to heart by denying all memory prior to the circle.

young apprentice minerva was a sullen child, with few friends; karl thekla took an elder brother’s interest, and jowan clung to her talent. she only really flourished when, after her terror of her natural gift for spirit magic saw her self-hatred turn dangerous in her early teens, first enchanter irving took an interest. he was a father figure to her, and he showed her how to channel her power into control, and her distress into ambition. newfound devotion to elemental magic saw her hailed as a prodigy, and surely a future first enchanter with irving’s tutelage. (only irving considered her too headstrong for the role. he never told her, fostering the drive he had cultivated, both fearful for the state she might return to if he didn’t, and curious as to what else she might become.) she grew up arrogant and beautiful and deeply loyal to the circle, learning that it was only the weak and the defiant who would fail to thrive there, and convinced she was neither. many of her peers wanted to be her, and few of them wanted to spend much time in her company. except jowan, still the little brother hiding in her shadow, and halliserre amell, a rebellious rival with a winning smile, who made up for their lack of her discipline and raw power with sheer brilliance, and whose heated arguments eventually developed into... ah, something else heated.

not long before the start of the game, amell told her they were going to accept tranquillity. it didn’t matter how clever they were; with their weak magic, they would die in the harrowing. they’d only been so defiant of the circle before because, having accepted their fate, the risks were nothing to them. furious and unable to admit it was because she was in love, the last thing minerva ever said to them when they were whole was that they were a coward not to try. when jowan told her he feared he too would be made tranquil, minerva was still recovering from the loss, not to mention flushed with even more arrogance than normal from her own successful harrowing. she had been the perfect circle mage all her life, twice as good as everyone else to make up for every rumour about where she was from. surely she had earned one defiance. surely she could save this one thing, her oldest friend. and she is a loyal person, in her way, emotion powering her fierce drive, incapable of abandoning what she has set her heart on. irving, from whom she had learned everything, was ahead of her every step of the way. he arranged for her to be taken in by the grey wardens. she had proved herself as headstrong and unsuitable as he had feared—and she was shocked and bitterly betrayed to finally see that—but he also believed this might bring her to where she would truly belong.

as a grey warden, minerva’s highest concern is perception. when the stakes of the game are revealed, she has enough hubris to see it as a chance to not just save but change the world. defeating the archdemon isn’t enough. she needs to be seen defeating the archdemon, at the forefront, as an elven mage; she has enough idealism to believe it will really matter for her and people like her, and enough shrewd cynicism to consider what she may have to sacrifice to achieve it. mostly she approaches problems with the skill for diplomacy and management that irving taught her, with that good good Master Coercion skill. she gets many of the “better” and certainly more peaceful quest outcomes, not always motivated by altruism, but determined to be remembered well when she leaves each faction behind. her one great sacrifice of this goal to be seen as the perfect mage is when she takes up blood magic, determined after she sees its power that she alone can handle it, to get the job done and keep what’s hers alive fight after fight. but that only makes her more dedicated to her actions elsewhere

the real test and most pivotal moment of her arc is at the landsmeet. she has arranged anora’s marriage to an alistair hardened for the role (once more following irving’s example, learning to teach ambition as he had taught hers. is there love in that, or just selfishness? she doesn’t know). all that matters is that the joint rule neatly fulfils her desire for compromise to please all parties. but then she struggles between two aspects of her goal: she wants to be seen, personally, as the victor; she does not want every noble in ferelden to see her kill the hero of river dane with magic. she knows how that scene will be remembered, in the end. when riordan suggests recruiting him instead, it seems the perfect solution to everything, the salvation of the day. and then she realises she’s broken alistair’s heart, just when he’s breaking hers. she is incapable of backing down in front of them all (it’s only to alistair, her alistair, but she can’t do it—not to a human, and not to someone part of her will always see as a templar—not when everything she wants was so close.) he abandons her for the throne she taught him to want. she goes on with loghain in the party, and eventually—unable to let loghain snatch the final sacrifice from her grasp, and realising she does want to win and live, after it all—convinces him to do the dark ritual.

in terms of her most important relationships with companions: minerva traditionally romances zevran, who is in many ways uniquely her match having learned the same bitter lessons with the crows that she learned from the circle, and who is so dear to her and capable of lightening her heart when no-one else can. i’ve also experimented with the idea of her romancing alistair, to really dramatise the Landsmeet Divorce and capitalise on future political shenanigans where she could one day be his mistress, but more traditionally they are simply an extremely closely trauma-bonded pair of people who are incapable, at least that year, of really understanding each other deep down. it falls into a pattern where she loves someone with all that fierce drive, enough to die for them, but she will always prioritise what she thinks they need over what they are saying and what they want, often with misjudgements and terrible consequences for them both. it was true with amell, it’s true for many others

she has something very intense and homoerotic going on with morrigan, she has a strained relationship with leliana and wynne, and she has respect and comradeship and a fair bit of fundamental disagreement with sten and loghain. the awakening squad are the people she will consider family for life, most notably nathaniel who she started out not liking at all and is now her work wife, her right hand, can finish her sentences, etc.; anders, who remembers her as karl’s annoying teacher’s pet telltale little sister and is still sometimes baffled by who she’s become; velanna, who makes minerva her most genuine self by having regular screaming matches with her as a sign of affection; and oghren who tried to quit drinking at the same time she tried to quit blood magic, leading to many conversations that deeply baffled everyone around them.

the “current” minerva surana is a sharp-tongued leader who was born for the role of warden-commander, who loves her work and that it matters, who has a truer confidence that is less blindly arrogant and more willing to admit to mistakes, who has worked her breathless way up to h*lding h*ands in public with someone she loves, who has finally learned the hard lesson that the world needs more than an heroic example who followed all the rules to truly be bettered... and who, as rebellion brews, has never been one to sit back and watch while others changed the world

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent game related things .. hrmm...

[kohakhearts]

cons of going to a “good schoolTM”: insane workload, unbearable classmates, next to no support when you have any kind of extenuating circumstances Including literal hospitalization, etc

pros of going to a “good schoolTM”: the 9-5 lifestyle is genuinely a major improvement

[yuridovewing]

hollyleaf is a character that i still really love but also makes me go "oh cmon you couldnt have made a better ending for her?

[dokjaism]

.

[honeytonedhottie]

ways to look after ur mental well being⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧋

mental health is definitely the most important thing that u should work on and prioritize in everyday life so here r some ways that u can look after urself ✨🗒️💕

PEN AND PAPER ;

pen and paper is ur best friend, being able to articulate ur thoughts and get them down on paper is a great way to practice self awareness and is a good skill to have in general.

its best not to keep things harbored or bottled up in ur mind and if ur looking to get into therapy a great place to start getting comfy with ur emotions and thoughts is journalling.

this includes things like keeping a diary, doing shadow work, or prompted journalling. just being able to get comfortable and aware of whats going on in ur head is rly good for you.

CHECK-UPS ;

make a habit of checking up on yourself to make sure that ur doing everything that u need to be doing to function at ur best, to make sure that ur feeling okay and making adequate time for you.

some rly good ways to have little check-ups is just preparing some questions to ask urself sometimes (how do i feel?) is the most basic one but asking urself that does help put ur feelings into perspective.

METICULOUS ;

oftentimes, when we neglect our physical care, we can start to feel the effects of that in our mental health and our mood which is why i think that self care is such a major aspect in mental health.

sometimes when we hit rock bottom in our mental health/healing journey, doing self care can seem tedious and like a daunting task. its important to prepare an alternate routine for times like this when u absolutely MUST do a little something.

to find a good place to start i recommend my posts : the feel better formula. 🍰💗

KEEP A BOOKLET OF REMEDIES ;

sometimes it makes me feel better if i have a little booklet that tells me how to treat symptoms that i might feel, whether thats physical or mental. doing so makes me feel like i have a plan. some notes from my little booklet of remedies include

cuz sometimes, all your missing in ur mental health equation is one thing and its important to know urself and what u need, bcuz you are your own best doctor sometimes.

ASK THE HARD QUESTIONS ;

sometimes we need to be uncomfortable to be comfortable. some questions or some things that i wanna come to terms with/when i need to call myself out on something. THATS LOWKEY UNCOMFORTABLE.

when im doing shadow work and digging deep, THATS UNCOMFORTABLE. but its what needs to be done in order for me to move forward on my journey as a person.

with all this being said its important to never lose sight of urself and to be ur biggest protector, look out for yourself, do what u need to do to heal, HAPPY HEALING JOURNEY GIRLIES ✨

[jam3sacaster]

hello darling!

absolutely adore your writing and your rupert specifically. If I may, and if you arent too busy, J was hoping to request something rather self indulgent for him. I am a major sucker for some domestic rupert and especially hurt/comfort is quite lovely with him. Is possible, maybe something about reader (being a bit older - around 25 or so) cooking dinner for them after work and maybe she cuts her finger or something and he takes her to an urgent care and the two of them have that moment of panic but, also knowing it would be okay bc their together.

WHEW THATS LONG LOL SRY! Hopefully that works w you lol

💫🪽 - salem, she/hers, from america

Hello Salem,, thank you for stopping by!! I’m so happy you enjoy my work 🥰🥰 Funnily enough, I’ve actually done something really similar to this with reader cutting her finger but I can do something with the same kind of topic but just a lil different ! 🥹

“You must be careful, angel.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Short Work

Suggestion by this sweet anon 🫶🏽 / You hurt yourself whilst coming a romantic meal, Nurse Rupert comes to your aid…

18+ FANFIC / Soft 🥹 Rupert 🥹 Reader character aged at 25. As always, my ask box is open for any requests for any character 💋 or even just to have a chat lol.

Today was yours and Rupert’s sixth month anniversary. You wouldn’t typically celebrate something so unsubstantial but the way he has treated you throughout these six months — supplying you with lavish jewellery, your own purebred Appaloosa, endless meals provided by private chefs — was something that deserved to be celebrated. His closest friend, Lizzie Vereker, had praised you for being the first and only person to transform his Lothario lifestyle.

“What’s on the menu?” Your lover asked, snaking his hands around your waist as you piled chopped onions into a pot. Your response was haltered by sloppy kisses being planted up the length of your neck. “Well, it’s French onion soup for start. And I was thinking to do truffle risotto for main.” You inform him, keeping a close eye on the kettle you had begun to boil, anxious to get a start on making the perfect meal. “Mmm, my favourite.” Rupert purred, taking a seat at the dining table behind you and poured you both a large glass of cherry-red wine.

“Just don’t disturb me,” You warn, “Everything has to be perfect.” The muscular man breathlessly sighed — intoxicated on copious amounts of wine and lighting up what must be his 10th cigarette of the hour. “Yes chef.” He remarked, coughing through his first drag. As the kettle had sufficiently boiled enough, you raised it with an unsteady hand, already stirring your onions with the other. Lifting it high enough to pour, you splashed the hot water over the now-simmering onions but subsequently caught yourself in the process. Hand seething and swelling instantaneously, you let out an excruciating yelp and dropped the kettle onto the counter top. Like a flash, Rupert was raised to his feet, stubbing out his cigarette. “My word, what have you done?” Bouncing on his heels in a frantic panic.

Floods of tears expelled themselves from your eyes as you held your limp wrist, blowing air onto the burn in a futile effort to eliminate the pain. “Burning, burning…” Were the only words you could push out through your thickening tears. Taking a firm grip of your wrist, Rupert pushed open the cold tap and held your hand underneath it, the instant cool providing a blessed relief. He settled a tender kiss on your forehead, his own mouth pouting in empathetic gloom. “You must be careful, angel.” He scalded in absolute disbelief at your self-inflicted injury.

Snatching his car keys from the counter top, and instructed you to get an ice pack from the freezer. Doing as you were told, you wrapped the ice pack in a tea towel and kept it pressed firmly on your scalded hand. “Where are we going?” You ask, watching your boyfriend pull on his coat, following him as he stomped towards the front door. “A&E. Sit down.” His firm voice instructed again, finger pointing towards the stairs. He grabbed your slippers and placed them gently over your feet.

Just over an hour later, you were both sat in the eerily melancholic A&E waiting room. You tried your best not to look at the people sat around you, already taking heed of someone clasping a blood-soaked towel to their head. “Rupert, I’m scared. I really don’t feel this is necessary.” You whisper, eyes firmly affixed on the floor. “There’s nothing to be scared of, angel. When I’m with you, you needn’t be scared of anything. We just need to get your hand checked.” He whispered back in response, rubbing his hand softly across your thigh. Taking a deep exhale, you rested your head on his shoulder, wrapped up tightly in Rupert’s jacket. He just made everything okay.

[campbyler]

our chapters average at 27,000 words, the total fic length is already 3x the average novel length, and we lost one of the authors working on this fic. it must be so nice to only have to endure the wait for a chapter to be uploaded so that you can interact with it rather than being the one to actually write it.

im going to be cruel (no pun intended) to be kind: this is such an intense externalisation of blame. you are the ones in control of the fic length; the chapters could handle some heavy editing and it wouldnt make them any less wonderful (such as regarding the descriptions of mike and will's internal thoughts, not the action between the characters themselves). fic is free and its a gift to be able to read works that inspire our hearts and minds while we wait for the show, but then again, when at the stern of a juggernaut work such as this, one that will inevitably have many followers chomping at the bit on tumblr as well as ao3 (as you designed it to have!), you surely must be aware of something that only usually exists in professional marketing spaces involving customers + brand IP: the relationship between consumer and creator, and what they can give each other.

not 'owe each other' - nothing is owed, except perhaps basic human kindness. fans want your work, and its free, so we should be grateful; likewise, you want readers, feedback and clicks, and that should be free, too. but in order for this to work smoothly, there has to be fair give and take. i mean, if you wanted to monetize the fic i'm sure many people would pay to read it, but thats beside the point here.

what fans of this fic simply want is the same honesty and self-awareness from you that they might expect from any artist who has embarked on such am ambitious project. and this doesnt just mean transparency about potential uploading dates (which is already much appreciated by the majority!), or notifications about how hard it is to balance work and life (something most people on the planet struggle with). it means total honesty and hard answers. people like to know where they stand. plenty of writers (both professional and fan alike) abandon works for months, years at a time, and if the work is THAT good, people will always be thrilled to see a return. it's the mucking people about that is what destroys relationships - no matter how good your reasons are.

your fic is wonderful and very, very memorable. you could take a big, undefined hiatus and people would, im sure, return, including me. seeing you admit that you have been prioritizing this fic over your mental health does not inspire confidence either, or even comfort - do i want to read something that has caused the creator such harm?

i think everything about this process would be happier for everyone if you set boundaries that work for you and didn't place blame elsewhere. after all, as you said, it's just a fanfic. it doesnt matter if you don't finish it. it doesnt matter if it takes all the way to s5 for 10.2 to release. everyone would, though, appreciate you taking a stance and being consistent (and therefore fair) to both yourselves and the readers.

please feel free to not post this publicly or do as you wish with it.

hello! thank you for your feedback and for sharing it in a way that is both kind and respectful. you make many valid points that i agree with -- we are in control of the word counts and could stand to edit down more, and we do recognize where being transparent about the reasons behind the chapter delays might not inspire confidence or comfort. i do, however, think that isolating one response/chain of responses to a particular ask is a little unfair, so i'd like to provide additional context.

i do not think that it's fair to say that we haven't been honest, self-aware, or fair, because we have been incredibly transparent throughout the entire run of the fic (over a year) about our writing process. just last month suni said she hadn't been working on 10.2 at all because abby had been visiting her house, and readily took ownership of that fact. there was a 4-month wait between chapters 9.1 and 9.2, and i was very open about the fact that i simply needed a break for at least the first of those months because i didn't want to write it. we have continued to maintain several times that we are not abandoning the fic, even if it takes longer between chapters, and have tried to stay as active as possible on the blog because we know that seeing us interact with asks Does inspire confidence. if you just scroll down and see how we have answered other asks inquiring about the upload, we responded kindly and respectfully.

what you interpreted as externalization of blame in that one (1!) ask response was me trying to provide perspective to someone who clearly lacked it. we understand that people will be frustrated about chapter delays, especially if we keep pushing them back, and this is also something that we have received feedback about before and tried to implement; however, it is also a double-edged sword where if we don't give an estimated upload, people get upset, or we give an estimated upload that we think is completely reasonable for us to achieve and then hurdles get in the way, whether it's writer's block or work or time with friends. i absolutely get the frustration on the receiving end, but something i have learned from being in this fandom for two years is that a pretty big majority of those who are interacting with fanworks are not creating it themselves, hence why my response -- while snippy and annoyed, because i was matching the energy, and will not apologize for that -- was contextualizing the whys behind the chapter delay: the chapters are long, the fic is long, we are down one entire body from where we started. the intention was not to shuck blame off of ourselves, but i get that intentions don't always translate into effect, so it's understandable that it was received differently.

we don't always respond to things perfectly. when we have a million and one asks inquiring about the next upload, one stray one that comes off the wrong way is likely going to set us off, because we are people, and this is not a job. we have set a boundary by disabling anon, and again, i cannot stress enough how much i appreciate that you've come to us with this feedback off-anon and with respect and decency. i get where you are coming from and again, agree with a lot of your points.

the only other thing i want to make clear is that this fic, no matter how much attention its garnered, should not be treated as a creator/consumer relationship that mirrors anything where the exchange of money is involved. not only is it unfair to apply this standard to fanworks, where it is illegal to monetize such content, but the entire purpose of fanworks is to celebrate what you are a fan of together. when you apply expectations on either end -- i am a fan of this work, therefore, people should create timely content for it; i am creating this fanwork, therefore, people should interact with it -- defeats the entire nature of fan-created work as a whole. while we have continued to be vocally grateful for the love and support our fic has been shown, we both maintain that we would continue writing and continue uploading even if we were getting less than half of the amount of interaction that we do. it's nice to have interaction, but not necessary, because we what write and post is done because we love it, and it's shared so that we can look back on it, so our friends can enjoy it, and anyone else who might want to. we are, of course, excited to share that world with anyone who cares -- we created the blog and the promo because we wanted to share it -- but that does not mean that the relationship between us and our readers should have expectations. we are all creating and enjoying this work for free for the sake of love for the characters, as the star trek obsessed housewives of the 60s (and the law) have intended.

i feel like this response is a bit jumbled so i apologize if anything isn't clear or hard to understand. thank you again for your time!

[say-hi-intrepid-heroes]

alright let’s go over the junior year clues we got in the rick perry documentary thing (disclaimer: i’ve definitely missed stuff, but i think i got the big things, feel free to reblog and add with stuff that i missed though)

[at the bottom of this post I've typed out the decipherable words that plan out some combats and NPCs from Rick's screen. it's the most interesting thing but it's super long so it's at the bottom under a cut]

We get a blurry look at some minis. I’m seeing at least the PC’s minis, as well as what looks like Baxter the Gryphon.

There’s some major shots of this battle. Includes a Baby mini, the Hangvan with some kind of laser canon on top, a stingray-esque monster that is likely Night Yorb (see below), something that looks like maybe an ice elemental or the crystal (see below), and some large bugs and shirtless people. Clearly set in the Red Wastes. Detailed info of the planning for this battle below.

One of the shots had reference boards in the background. One is clearly for the Hangvan (see earlier screencaps), but the other is unclear. It looks like it includes some sort of tennis or tennis-adjacent sport.

Confirmation that Mordred Manor is a set piece.

Finally, one shot showed Rick’s computer screen with some critical info about planning. I’ve put what I’ve been able to decipher below the screencaps. and under a cut, as it’s very long.

EP. 701 DEFEATING NIGHT YORB CHASE (RED WASTES) Hangvan, Night Yorb is giant flying Manta Ray thing? Rainbow road, being chased by night yorb while trying to throw crystal into portal. Crazy gun on rough [roof] that gorgug made, I can’t get a lock on it. Just need one last final thing to defeat night yorb. Red wastes, chasing the night yorb around, flying bats teleporting onto rough [roof] of van, NPC allies, Balthazar, two other cars they are in contact with, tiefling bakers or sidekicks are reveals Stormchaser twister, trying to get a lock onto it, Night Yorb is escaping the world. Maybe night yorb gets away, why didn [didn’t] you get it? And Balthazar died? Murph invented the Night Yorb. Don’t fuck with the Night Yorb. Exploded out of riz’s chest, needs to be dumb as hell. it’s the jabberwocky, it burbled, hugely terrifying, Horrifying cursed thing. Unending night for two months. Dragon sized, bigger than the Hang Van, 30’ wingspan Stars and moon. While the night yorb flies it is night and not day. Not malevolent force, but everything on earth will die Have giant ghost busters canon, Honey I shrunk the kids cannon Driver, mechanic, gunner, navigator (using SW 5e mechanics) Hang Man - Fabian motorcycle Tether is attached to night yorb, either magic or harpoon Night Yorb could out pace them. Could smash van. Cultist of the night yorb appearing on the road, mad max style ”The night yorb is our god” Red Wastes Cultists: Riding skeleton horses, classic fantasy cultists, Manta ray night yorb masks Sword and Sorcery vibes, MUSCELY, oiled, black leather, rings Shadow of Night Yorb Tether must be reeled in over 4 rounds Success Meter - 4 rounds or it escapes Pop up cultists in the middle of the road 4 maps Straight away, gully bridge crossing, rap popping up, giant portal It’s going to another world but if it gets away thats just as bad Ayada [Ayda?] thing built in. Chekov’s gun. Gun has cool helix of energy that is getting cranked in. Gun is on the back and on the hood is a binding circle that Adaine does. Cultists are making the portal. YORBIES if they catch it, it gets bound into the paint of their van Gun is gorgug’s stuff and circle is adaine 6 cultist perusing them, 4 or 5 at the portal, 1 or 2 back up Single person traps, Vulture with cactus MINIS: Night Yorb - Giant shadowy manta ray, inky black dripping, made of liquid, different underbelly, deep indigo or bone white. Made of shadows, dripping aberration, flat plane, long tail, two weird eyes coming off front on stalks. Second set of PCs TERRAIN: Red Wastes! NOTES: favorite crazy dnd monsters, beholder, [unclear word, bu…ette] Fungal Black light portal battle! Dr. Strange battle set, pseudo pods of elder pod night yorb, day glow run fragments, purple stone castle night yorb temple, floor is octopus made of shadows. Starting mid battle. [blank sections] PROJECTION: Counter here of some kind?

POTENTIAL LOCATIONS Basrar’s icecream shop? Mordred Manor Seacaster Manor [crossed out] Strong Tower Luxury Apartments SAT Prep class [screen cuts off]

EP. 704 DENTENTION [detention] STEALTH CHASE SEQUENCE/ QUIET LIBRARY/ Aguefort chase sequence? Combine sets interrupted by having to make it past a hall monitor Underwater? Books suspended floating, everything is affected by water Don’t wake daddy? Start in Library to get to Aguefort’s office Hallway Classroom Bathroom Lockerroom [blank sections] DYNAMIC ELEMENT: Water

CONCEPTS Dicks! SPIRITUAL GUARDIANS - Full service on minis, summons, etc Psycadelic fungal giant, black light, trippy, beautiful Revisiting old set [screen cuts off]

[fyi everything past this point was very blurry, so I could only decipher pieces here and there]

EP. 706 OUTDOOR CONCERT COACHELLA Music feature? Flaming [?], giant [?] [???] Fig and Gorgug on stage [???] Lighting effects, [???] Floating stage or something [???] Demons? PROJECTION: Lasers?

NPCS/ VILLAINS/ MONSTERS/ ETC. PORTER CLIFFBREAKER is secret servant of nightmare king tactical battlefield combat that [?] 2-3 times larger than PCs LED buried inside him [???] Porter was [???] basketball player [screen cuts off]

[the rest was too blurry to make out anything other than a blank section titled ROLE PLAY/ NEUTRAL BOARD and a section that seems to be for EP. 708 and says EXTRA with some blurry words after it]

[froggibus]

omg what abt valorant sova/chamber watching their s/o get killed by their mirror counterparts 🤭🤭

The Wrong Reflection - ft Cypher, Chamber, Sova & Phoenix

Includes: Cypher, Chamber, Sova and Phoenix

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: you encounter your boyfriend's mirror counterpart and realize all too late what's about to happen, and all he can do is watch

CW: violence, major character death, stabbing, shooting, degrading?, lots of angst, major injuries, near death experience, resurrection, hurt/comfort, some fluff at the end?, fainting

so this isn't *quite* what you asked for but i really loved this idea and wanted to make it a little less angsty so here we are lol...also this is my first time writing about Sova, Chamber & Phoenix so if they're a little OOC or there's timeline issues thats why

————

Cypher:

Though everyone at Valorant had been warned about the evil doppelgangers that seemed to look and sound exactly like your closest comrades, hearing about it just wasn’t the same as seeing it. No matter how many times the other agents testified to you that it was the truth and swore up and down that there were “two Phoenix’s”, you just couldn’t wrap your head around it.

Until now, of course. Sent on a mission with Cypher and Jett, separated when a grenade went off and forced to hide in an alleyway until the smoke cleared, you didn’t think the day could get much worse. Then you saw your boyfriend’s hat through the smoke and went to pursue him, only for him to spin around and shove a dagger just below your ribs.

You flinch and lurch forward, just barely able to catch yourself before going toppling over. He yanks the dagger from your side, and just as you’re about to ask ‘why’, blood bubbles over your lips. You blink a few times, head spinning from both the pain and blood loss. 

Why would he…

And then you remember. You remember the warnings from Brimstone and the stories from Phoenix. This wasn’t your boyfriend at all. This must have been the mirror counterpart they told you about. 

Worst yet, your real boyfriend was nowhere to be found and you’re losing blood fast. It’ll be a miracle if you can even crawl, let alone fight. 

Somehow, you manage to get to your knees and pull out the small pistol you had tucked into your waistband. You brandish the weapon threateningly, swinging it around in a warning. The doppelganger doesn’t seem to care, though. 

You squeeze the trigger.

Cypher is frantic. He’s tearing through the streets, desperately searching for you. He didn’t want to be separated, but there was no other choice. The camera he had placed where you had first been was shrouded in smoke, smoke that was clearing way too slowly for his taste.

How long has it been since your comms went dead? Five minutes? Ten? He shakes his head. He can’t worry about that now. You have to be okay. You can’t die on him now.

He checks his camera one more time, leaning his back on a brick wall in a futile attempt to catch his breath. When the familiar screen loads, he’s relieved to see the smoke finally cleared enough to grant him sights on the streets below. 

The relief lasts only a second.

You’re on your knees, blood pooling down your side and forming a dark puddle on the scorched pavement. And standing in front of you is him. His heart sinks. He doesn’t need audio to know what must have happened. You must have mistaken the counterpart for him, and paid the cost.

Not you, he thinks. Anyone but you. Before he knows it, he’s tearing away from the wall, sprinting as fast as his legs can carry him back to where you were. He’s only seconds away, but he doesn’t even know if he’ll make it in time. He turns the corner just in time to hear the gunshot.

He flinches, heels skidding to a halt. You collapse to the ground face first in a pool of your own blood. His doppelganger is nowhere to be seen. His heart is racing so fast it's painful. Everything seems surreal. This can’t be happening, not to him, not again. 

His only solace is the slight twitch of your body, a miniscule sign of life.

He rushes forwards, dropping onto the pavement and sliding to you. He ignores the burning in his knees, the strain on his lungs. All he cares about is your collapsed form on the ground.

He flips you over, examining every inch of your body. He squints. There’s no bullet wounds, no signs of being shot. There’s only a gash just below your ribs, and that's clearly the source of the blood.

But hadn’t he heard a gunshot?

He looks at the small pistol laying on the ground next to you, the barrel still warm. There’s a bullet hole in the wall in front of you, and he almost sobs in relief. You didn’t get shot. You shot back.

He squeezes your body to his, so happy he almost forgets you’re bleeding out. It’s only when he feels your warm blood staining his clothes and hands that he remembers. 

“I’ve got you, little one,” he murmurs, scooping you up into his arms. “I promise.”

You’re not going to die on him today, he thinks. You’re coming back to him, no matter what.

—

You wake up in your own bed. It takes you a while to realize where you are, your eyes barely able to focus and your head pounding. You inch your way towards sitting up, your side burning the whole time.

What happened? You blink, trying to force yourself into remembering. You had been on a mission, right? With Amir.

Oh, you realize, memories coming back. He was there, but so was his mirror counterpart. And he had stabbed you. That’s why your side hurts. 

Still, it doesn’t explain how you got back, or how you’re even alive.

The door bursts open, and Cypher is standing there panting. “Y-you’re awake!” 

You’re beyond asking how he knows, assuming he put a camera in your room the minute you got back. You just nod, taking in his disheveled state.

“I was so worried,” he closes the door softly, coming down to sit in front of you. “You were…you almost—” he sighs “—are you sore? Can I hold you?”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice so hoarse you barely recognize it.

He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his head into your shoulder. “Don’t ever leave me again,” he mumbles into your neck, hot breath fanning over your shoulder, “please. I can’t lose you.”

Chamber:

Chamber had never once been worried about his counterpart. After all, they shared a common goal, and he assumed his counterpart had the same soft spot for you that he did.

He assumed wrong.

It was a month ago when you went on a mission together. A month since you followed the wrong Vincent, and a month since he almost killed you. Had your real boyfriend not been there, you would be toast by now. 

That incident was almost enough to make him reconsider his partnership with his mirror self. Almost. Still, he swore if he ended up in that situation again, he would protect you. That wannabe wouldn’t lay his damn hands on you again.

Now, stepping off the jet with him, you’re not worried. You know better now, and you and Chamber had also come up with a codeword only he would know to distinguish the two.

“Just stay by my side, okay?” He cautions, overprotective as always, “if we stick together, he won’t get the chance.”

You nod, letting him lead you across the abandoned pier. You duck behind storage boxes and abandoned machinery, Vincent trying to find the place where they’re going to plant the bomb. 

There’s a slight clicking behind you, ever so slight, like the scraping of footsteps on gravel. You turn your head for a second, see nothing, and turn back to see your boyfriend staring at you.

“What is it?” You ask, “did you find it?”

He shakes his head, “we already passed it. We have to go back a ways.” You nod in agreement, letting him lead the way. He leads you back the way you came, around a corner and to a deserted place in the docks. The surface is incredibly damp and uneven. You can’t see how they could ever plant a bomb here.

“Are you sure? It looks—”

You’re cut off by him pulling out his pistol and shooting you through the shoulder. The force of the shot is enough to knock you onto your ass, the pressure from the bullet making you scream in pain.

No, you think. This can’t be. You took your eyes off of him for one second, not even. How had he replaced your Chamber? How did your Chamber not notice you missing or—had he done something to him? “How?” You wheeze, applying pressure to your shoulder.

A smirk finds its way to his face.

—

Chamber expects you to be behind him when he runs from the storage box you’re currently behind to another. He’s so sure you’re going to follow him that he doesn’t even turn around. He’s so focused on finding where they’re going to plant that he doesn’t even realize your body heat isn’t behind him. 

To him, nothing seems wrong until he hears the sound of a gun go off. Not just any gun, his pistol. He whips around, expecting you to be there. His heart drops when you’re not. 

How had he tricked you? Did you run off? He shakes his head. You weren’t stupid, he was just too smart for his own good. But if he’s hurt you or worse, Chamber can only imagine the ways he’ll torture his mirror self.

He sprints back to where you were before, desperately looking for any evidence of you or where you could have gone. He tries to think like himself, tries to think of what he would do if he was trying to lure you to an early grave.

But he can’t. He would never hurt you, he would never think to even try. Time is running out, he knows it. If you’re not already dead, you will be in seconds. He slams his fist against the steel of the crate, the pounding echoing throughout the pier. 

He freezes. An echo. That’s right, for the sound to carry where he was, it had to have echoed off the boxes. So, he just has to follow them and find you, right?

He takes off quick as lightning, climbing the crate and leaping across the tops for a better vantage point.  Come on, y/n, he sighs. You can’t die on him like this. You can’t die because of him. 

He’s done a lot of bad things in his life, but he can’t possibly see what he’s done to deserve this. He can’t possibly see what higher power is cruel enough to take you from him.

He’s going fast, faster than he’s gone in his entire life. All he needs is to reach you, to save you, to do his job as your damn boyfriend and protect you. 

He hears a whimper and skids to a halt. There, just below him. You’re laying on the ground, blood pooling around your head. His other self is crouched above you laughing, dragging his pistol across your body.

He’s taunting you, he realizes.

That’s fine. If he wants to play, Chamber will play. His mirror self doesn’t see him coming, doesn’t see his sniper rifle being pulled out. Chamber takes a deep breath, steadying the scope like he’s done a million other times in his life. 

Just as he takes the shot, so does his doppelganger. The bullet rips through your chest, your body seizing once before going limp. The other bullet tears through the skull of his doppelganger and sends him toppling to the ground. 

Chamber hops down, rushing to your side. The blood is pouring out now, and though he’s seen countless people die, it's different when it's the love of his life. Your face and hair are coated in your blood. He hates the way it gets on his hands and covers his sleeves when he tries to apply pressure to the wound.

Your heart is beating, just barely. His mirror self must have missed but…he shakes the thought away. He needs to focus on you now. You can’t die on him, not now. Still, his own hopes don’t change the way your heart rate is slowing down more and more by the second.

He’s out of time.

—

You wake up in a flash of blue light. You have to blink a few times to focus, but the energy coursing through your veins is so intense it's like your senses have been dialed up to 11. Sage is standing in front of you, looking at you in concern. Her eyes are slightly puffy.

Next to her, his head hanging low, is Chamber. Your eyes shoot wide as you remember what happened, and start to register what's going on. He had killed you. Well, not him, but his other self. You died and—and Sage resurrected you.

The energy starts to leave and your strength wanes. You pitch forwards, expecting to hit the floor, but Chamber catches you before that can happen. He’s holding you gently but securely, strong arms unrelenting. 

“Mon chérie,” he sighs into your hair. “I can’t bear to part with you again.”

Sova:

It’s white as far as you can see across the horizon, snow blotting out everything in your path. You’re already nervous—this is a big mission, after all—but the snow just makes you feel even more uneasy. 

Your boyfriend grabs your shoulder reassuringly. “We get in, we get out.” 

You nod at him but your nerves are still on fire. Brim got wind of someone planning on bombing a safe house, and sent you and Sova to go investigate. 

It made sense why your boyfriend would be sent—he practically breathed cold air—but you? You despised the cold. Yet, they were unrelenting in their decision and no matter how many times your boyfriend assured you that you would be fine, you weren’t convinced. 

“Cover your footsteps,” you remind him. “They’re easier to track in the snow.”

He sighs, “angel, there’s nothing out there to hurt you. I’ll protect you.”

It warms your chest slightly to hear him say those words. Only for a second, though, until you make a wrong step into a snowbank and you’re sent tumbling away from him.

You roll to your feet, covered in snow and glaring. You look up to where you were, but your boyfriend is nowhere in sight. 

“Sova?” You call. 

No answer. 

You turn around. Could he have gone a different way? Or did you fall so far that he’s out of sight?

“Sasha!”

You hear a noise behind you and whip around, drawing your weapon. There’s nothing there. “Sasha, please! I—“

“I’m here.”

You turn around, coming face to face with him. He has his head tilted at you curiously, using one hand to push your weapon down. 

You frown. Something seems off. How did he get down here so fast? And if he was here, why wasn’t he answering your calls? 

“Why didn’t you answer me? I was calling you.”

“Sorry,” he shrugs. “I came as fast as I could.”

“Right…let’s get back up, okay, we need to monitor the situation.”

You start hiking through the knee-deep snow, trying to get back to where you were. You pause about halfway up, though, when you realize you don’t hear footsteps behind you. 

You turn around, about to ask why he isn’t coming up with you. You face him, and just as you do, you hear another voice behind you, Sova’s voice, yell: “y/n look out!” 

It’s too late, though. 

The Sova you’re facing let’s an arrow fly loose and you have no time to dodge. It embeds itself into your chest with a seeing pain, and you fall backwards into the snow. Despite the cold, your whole body feels like it’s on fire now. 

Your breaths are shallow and ragged, your chest barely rising and falling with each one. 

Sova stares horrified, looking between you and his doppelgänger. 

As soon as he saw you fall through the snowbank, he was coming up with a plan to come and save you. To get a better look at his surroundings, he uses his Recon bolt. 

That’s when he sees two figures at the bottom of the snowbank. His blood runs cold (or colder than usual), and he’s sprinting towards you. Just when he can see the top of your head, you turn around. 

He gets closer and that’s when he sees someone that looks exactly like him. He tries to warn you, yelling your name, but all he succeeds in doing is distracting you. 

That’s when the other Sova lets an arrow fly at you. You have no time to move before it’s planting itself in your chest. 

Sova nocks an arrow and lets it fly, but all it does is wound his other self. The other Sova gives a half-hearted salute, and runs away. 

Sova runs to your body, the snow beneath you stained red. He checks your pulse, but there’s nothing there. He’s frantic, desperately pressing his head to your chest to hear your heart beating. 

Maybe it’s the cold. 

Hoping is all he can do. Hoping against all odds that the cold has slowed your pulse down enough to save your life, that that’s the reason you’re not breathing. 

He breaks the arrow, hands shaking when he realizes it’s one of his. He tosses the arrowhead to one side and the shaft to another, before lifting you as gently as he can. 

—

You come to in an infirmary bed. Starch white sheets pulled up over your chest. Your eyes adjust to the light and you see that you’re in the Valorant infirmary. 

You try to sit up but your chest burns and you’re left laying down in the bed. You turn your head to the side, just to see Sova laying there. 

His hair dangles in his face, tickling his nose. You smile softly and push it out of the way. He’s frowning in his sleep and dark circles sit under his eyes. 

You wonder how long it’s been since he slept. It was only in his nature to blame himself for something like this. You could only hope it wouldn’t change anything between the two of you. 

You stroke his head gently, flinching when a hand grabs yours. Sova is half awake now, looking at you through tired eyes. His hand is in yours, thumb rubbing circles over the back of your hand. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you say softly. 

“No, no. I’m just—I’m glad you’re alright.”

“How long has it been?” You ask. 

He grabs your other hand in his, his need for contact practically insatiable. “A few days,” he admits. “I was worried you would never wake up…”

“Hey, I’m here,” you give a weak smile, “and I’m alright. But you, you look like hell.”

You slide over in bed as much as you can and pat the spot next to you. “Come rest with me.”

He reluctantly climbs in bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you carefully. He nuzzled his head into your shoulder and kisses it softly. 

The two of you stay like that until he falls asleep. 

Phoenix:

Phoenix was the first to see his doppelgänger—and he would not shut up about it. Night in and night out, he would talk non stop about it. 

“He’s just as cool and as sexy as me—it’s like me, but evil!”

And you would roll your eyes at your boyfriend. “Sure he is, Jamie.”

You never pictured you would come face to face with him, so you never cared too much about your boyfriend’s words. 

Now, on a mission chasing your boyfriend's doppelgänger, you wish you had paid more attention. He really was identical to your Phoenix, and it only made it harder on you. 

You’re pushing yourself hard, harder than ever before, trying your best to catch him. He was faster than you and stronger, and way more agile. It made you wonder just how much he had been holding back on you in training. 

Your Phoenix is nowhere to be seen, too. You split up at the start of the mission and now he wasn’t answering his radio and you had no possible clue where he had gone. 

The Phoenix ahead of you disappears into a building, and despite your unease, you duck through the doorway and follow him. You follow him up the stairs and into a tiny, half-finished room. 

He smirks at you, eyes flickering with flames. “Wow, you really are almost as pretty as my y/n.” 

“It sucks you’re not nearly as hot as my Phoenix.” 

He rolls his eyes at that. You wonder what he’s doing, why he hasn’t attacked yet. Is he waiting for something? You can’t tell. 

You had no time to react when he raises his hands and the whole room erupts into flames. They’re scorching and they take the wood easily. The mirror Phoenix only gives you a half-hearted salute before leaving you to burn. 

You rip off your shirt, using it to cover your face from the smoke. You can’t possibly escape—the windows are barred and the door is blocked by the flames. You’re going to burn to death, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. 

— 

Phoenix only realizes something is wrong when he sees a building up in flames. His comms broke as soon as he left and he had been searching for you ever since. 

When he sees the building, he just knows what must be going on. It only takes a matter of seconds to get inside the building and tear his way up the stairs to where the flames are beginning to spread. 

He sees you, limp in the corner with a shirt pressed over your face. He runs through the flames, the heat barely tickling his skin, and scoops you up into his arms. You’re alive—barely—but he knows running through the flames with you in his arms might do more damage than good. 

He can’t lose you, and staying here he’ll lose you for sure. He has to take the risk, but for the first time in his life, he hesitates. He would rather burn here with you than lose you. 

You start to come to while Phoenix carries you, coughing up blood and wheezing more than breathing. He rubs your back and tries to reassure you that everything will be okay, but he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. 

You’re awake, and that’s a good sign, but you need more medical attention than he can possibly give you in the field. He already called HQ but he has no idea when they’ll be here. 

He settles down on the ground near where the jet will pick you guys up, holding you firmly on his lap. He kisses your forehead, rubs your back and tries to keep you as calm as possible. 

You slump into him, arms lazily wrapped around his shoulders. His touch is reassuring but your skin still feels like it’s on fire and your lungs still ache from the smoke. 

You silently hope you make it through this because you know if you don’t, it’ll tear him apart. 

[kitkat-2204]

Guys I highkey wanted to make a story about her friend at a sleepover and kink indulgence during it so im gonna help my brain and make it:

Olivia was very shy. She didn’t show her true nature to anyone and kept to her thoughts to herself. That was the biggest reason maya invited her to sleepover. Maya was outgoing, open, and yet decided to invite Olivia specifically to a one on one sleepover. Olivia was more than confused on the reasoning, but decided to say yes anyway. “I just want to get her contact for college assignment help and move on.” Olivia thought, nervously waiting at Maya’s front door. Maya opens the door with sheer excitement on her face, smiling ear to ear saying hello to Olivia. “Hi olivia! Please come inside, I made tacos for dinner!” Maya introduces enthusiastically. “So… what do you do for work? How is ur first semester going?” Maya asks, about to take a bite into a taco. “Im doing okay. Right now I do freelance work for a small animation company that works on YouTube animations, and I am taking some light classes that just focus on my major right now.” Olivia relents, looking down at her unfinished plate of tacos while speaking. “Sorry if im being too forward Olivia, I just really want to get to know you. Ive seen some of your work and I must say I am, rather impressed… I was quite embarrassed to admit so however.” Maya responds bashfully. “Wow… she… actually likes my work…? Im glad.” Olivia thinks, feeling a little bit better with meeting Maya, feeling glad that her art is being appreciated. After dinner, the two of them drink some light drinks of wine together while relaxing in Maya’s room, feeling a little more comfortable with each other now that the ice is broken. Later on in the night, with them both feeling slightly tipsy, Maya jokingly says “Oh dear..I think those tacos are getting to me… I hope you don’t mind..” and proceeds to let a small sigh, indicating she passed gas. “Sorry.. I have gastrointestinal issues sometimes, and it’s quite disabling. My doctor recommends that I am open about my need to pass gas. Is…that okay?” Maya asks bashfully. Olivia however, is quite red by the thought, having a secret thing for farts in private. She does everything she can to keep this private however, ever since middle school where she was caught, and relentlessly teased until she exchanged schools. “Thats okay, no worries.” Olivia responds, as nonchalant seeming as possible. The rest of the night became much more intense for Olivia, with Maya getting more and more gassy overall. Each fart becoming more and more obvious, with a more intense and distracting sound from Mayas voice being heard from each release. “Ahh… sorry my stomach really hurts… this is feeling better, again I apologize… I hope it’s not too gross..” Maya repeats. “It’s not gross, its normal, no worries.” Olivia responds, working even harder to hide her intense feelings of desire more than before. Her palms were sweating, her head filled with tantalizing thoughts that just melted her even more, and yet she would not allow anyone to see. She only slightly looked at Maya when she sees her lifting her left leg up just enough to allow another release to bubble out, but quickly averted her gaze, becoming self conscious. Maya felt her gas bubbling out of her until she felt something wet release, becoming increasingly embarrassed and bashful, only to burst out laughing. “Oh dear, I think I pushed a little too hard… I CANNOT keep doing this!!” Maya says, with laughter in between her bashful expression. “Oh dear, don’t worry, you don’t need to be embarrassed, I bet it felt better for your stomach ache right..?” Olivia said carefully, trying to hide her desire behind her words will all the effort in the world. It was at that moment however, that Maya began to notice how Olivia was acting, before she even realized she was caught. Maya noticed the flushed look on her face, her nervous clenched palms, her eyes darting back and forth with fear, and her biggest give away, what she said. Olivia said just a little too much, gave her desire away just slightly enough for Maya to notice, just with the prospect of Maya describing the relief she feels from releasing.

“She’s into this huh… oh dear. Thats so unbelievably cute. I can’t believe she working so hard to hide herself. I want to make her comfortable.” Maya thought. She then proceeds to lift her left leg again, noticing the slight shift in Olivias eyes as she does so. “I can’t let anyone know. I need to calm down..” Olivia thinks, trying to cool herself down. She then glimpses at Maya rubbing her stomach and announcing herself, “I… can’t hold it.. I am going to just do it..” At this point, Olivia can’t help it. Her eyes flutter with desire and sees Maya looking at her, immediately covering her face in embarrassment. “I am so sorry…. I know that I am weird.. please don’t hate me..” Olivia sputters in-between sobs. Maya pulls Olivias hands away from her face, bringing her face right next to Olivia’s ears. “There is nothing weird about you… express your needs how you please… I don’t mind.” Maya whispers reassuringly. Olivias entire body shakes with desire, never having the opportunity to indulge in her interests before today. Maya proceeds to push her stomach, looking at Olivia closely while releasing the pressure and pain all into her pants. “Oh yes… this helps so much…” Maya says in-between breaths of relief. “Oh yes…this is just… so lovely..” Olivia whispers while finally getting the courage to touch herself, feeling safe enough around Maya in a way she has never felt safe before. After this sleepover, Olivia and Maya became close in a way that she could have never imagined. Going on dates, talking about art, and remembering the day they trusted each-other, being at a simple college sleepover.

I wanted to make this story not just for sexual purposes, but also to talk about the way kink shaming and sexual shame in general affects people through the lense of storytelling. I hope you guys enjoy :)

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Okay so. Jennifer Check x Male! reader. She asks them out so she can eat him, tries to seduce them on the date. But. Starts to fall for him/catch feelings. She's never felt this way before, especially with a guy who's supposed to be her prey. Angst upon angst, miscommunications. Ends with fluff. Thank you 😌

honestly I feel as though thats pretty much the only way a real relationship between her and a guy who she has feelings for would actually end up working out after the demon possession-

hope you like what I came up with! ✨

Not Like the Others (Jennifer Check x reader)

Warnings: mentions of murder/cannibalism, swearing/vulgar language, angst, Jen's kind of a bitch (but what else is new), Jen purposely hurts reader's feelings but she ends up apologizing, brief bullying, fluffy ending

Jennifer hated you. You were absolutely infuriating to her in so many different ways, but the biggest one was the fact that you made it damn near impossible not to love.

It started when she asked you out as a means to get a quick fuck with an even quicker meal afterwards. Of course you agreed, just like she knew you would. After all, who could say no to her?

She invited you to the park at night, which should've been a major red flag right from the start- except you were much too caught up in trying to not make yourself look stupid and hopefully impress her to worry about it too much.

Wow, cute and stupid, is what she thought when you actually showed up, fifteen minutes before you were supposed to at that. Too bad she planned on eating you, otherwise you might've been nice to keep around, like a pet of sorts.

Before she could tempt you into having sex with her by using one of her vulgar openings, you presented her with a bouquet of black roses. "I would've gotten you red, but this seemed to be more your style," you explained shyly, a nervous look on your face.

That stopped her short, and even made her rethink what she was doing. None of her past dates had ever brought anything to the table other than cheap smelling cologne and even cheaper condoms. And yet here you were, going out of your way to make her feel important. To make her feel appreciated. To make her feel wanted.

Jennifer eyed you suspiciously as she took the bouquet, seeing if she could figure out what kind of angle you were trying to work here. You simply smiled in turn, your eyes holding nothing but generosity and care. It almost made her feel bad for having to rip your throat out later. Almost.

"Oh, um... thanks. No one's ever gotten me flowers before." She flashed you an over the top smile as a form of flattery, but you were much too focused on her words to notice.

"What? Never?" Once again, she was taken back by just how concerned you seemed to be. "A pretty girl like you, I would've thought you must get things like this all the time."

"Um, yeah, no. But thanks." At this point she was starting to get a bit irritated. The more you spoke, the more she was starting to feel a bit guilty for luring you here to eat you.

"Oh. Well, I was a bit surprised when you asked me out, to be quite honest," you said with a nervous laugh. "I didn't think you'd ever notice a guy like me, y'know? I mean, it's not like I stand out or anything." If you kept talking, she was just going to have to kill you right then and there, sexual gratification be damned.

"I thought you were cute, from what I'd seen of you," Jennifer seductively purred, dropping the bouquet on the ground so she could use both of her hands to feel up your chest in an attempt to turn the conversation over to something less PG.

You frowned slightly, leaning down to pick up the flowers for her. "You dropped these," you said in a somewhat shy tone, holding them out to her again.

It took everything in her to suppress an eye roll. "I know I dropped them. I did it on purpose." She spoke through gritted teeth, trying to ignore just how much you were starting to get on her nerves.

The frown on your face deepened. "But... why? Don't you like them?" The expression on your face mirrored the confusion and hurt in your voice. You looked like a kicked puppy who didn't understand what just happened.

She let out a loud sigh of exasperation, now visibly annoyed. "Yes, obviously I like them, but I didn't ask you out just to stand around and talk all night. I asked you out because of how... tasty you look." Technically it wasn't a lie, although you didn't have to know she meant it in both a figurative and literal way.

"So you don't actually like me?" You asked in a pitiful manner, and if Jennifer's heart still worked properly there was a good chance it would've broken from that alone. Why couldn't you have just been another misogynistic asshole? It would've made it so much easier for her to kill you.

"Look-" she began, trying to think of the best way to get this night back on track. Dealing with a guy's fear was one thing, but it was entirely different having to deal with their heartache.

"I really only asked you out because I thought you'd only be interested in sex and nothing more, okay? If I'd have known you were going to get all emotional on me, I wouldn't have even bothered wasting my time on you in the first place."

Perhaps her words were a bit harsh, but she was hoping she'd said something along the way that would make you pissed off at her. At least then she could finally kill you without feeling guilty about it. Imagine her surprise when the next thing she heard coming from you was the sound of quiet sobs.

"I- I thought you liked me-" You choked out through your tears as you went to cover your face with your hands. The bouquet fell back on the ground, but this time you didn't even bother to pick it up again. "All my- my friends told me that you didn't really care, but I didn't want to believe them-"

This was her chance. It would be so easy just to kill and eat you right then and there, when you were distracted with your pathetic human emotions. No one would ever know she was involved. The police would probably chalk it up to another random bear attack. So why couldn't she do it?

The still human part of her almost wanted to comfort you, but even before the possession, fragility and sympathizing with others wasn't exactly her strong suit. Torn between eating you to get you to shut up and reassuring you that you'd done nothing wrong, she chose the secret third option: she left.

Despite everything that she'd been through regarding men screwing her over, and as much as she wished she could just kill you and be done with it, she couldn't. Something about you was different from all the other guys she'd encountered before.

You weren't like the others, and that both delighted and frustrated her to no end. Especially when it meant she wouldn't be getting any sort of meal for the night.

When Jennifer saw you at school the next day, your eyes were just as red and puffy as they'd been on the so called date, almost as if you'd spent the whole night crying. Figures.

Obviously you'd finally realized what a little cunt you were being and the once in a lifetime opportunity you'd missed to screw her. Those were the thoughts going through her mind as she passed by you in the hallway.

She fully expected you to chase after her, begging and pleading on your hands and knees for her to take you back. But you didn't. In fact, the moment you saw her your bottom lip began to tremble and you turned away, presumably to hide a fresh onslaught of tears.

Now that really started to tug at her heartstrings. Here was this cute guy who genuinely liked her and was actually really excited to spend some time getting to know her rather than just use her for sex, and she'd fucked up her chance with you by being her usual bitchy self.

She kept making her way down the hall until she heard the loud taunts of a group of jocks just within earshot. Her blood began to boil as she turned around and saw you backed up against a set of lockers, surrounded by overgrown douchebags on all sides. If you hadn't been crying before, you certainly were now.

Growling, she threw down her books and stormed over, getting in between you and them. You were so overwhelmed by the situation you couldn't remember all that was said, but there were certainly a large slew of profanities thrown their way from her end.

Once they were gone, she turned to face you, trying to ignore the guilt she felt at the way you flinched. "Just leave me alone. I know you don't really care," you mumbled sadly, looking down.

Jennifer sighed, knowing it was her fault for the way you were acting. "Look, I'm sorry for the way I treated you last night, okay? I'm not used to people actually caring about getting to know me, for something other than just my body." She sounded a bit stiff when apologizing, but this wasn't something she did, ever, so it was no wonder it sounded so rehearsed.

"You are?" You asked quietly in disbelief, sniffling some. "I- I had hoped you would know that I actually liked you. I would never want you to think I only care about your- your physical attributes."

She rolled her eyes playfully at the way you referred to her body and good looks. "Well, now I know." She hesitantly reached out and took your hand before speaking again. "I'd love to go on another date with you. A real one this time, as a take two of sorts. I promise not to pressure you into anything."

Her cold heart warmed at the sight of a smile on your face. "R- Really? I- I'd love that," you happily agreed as you gripped tightly onto her hand with your own.

"I'm glad to hear it," she purred in a low voice, smirking at the visible shiver it caused in you. "Come on, I'll walk you to class." She laced her fingers through yours and started with you back down the hall.

Maybe she didn't hate you as much as she tried to make it out to be. After all, you were both sensitive and sweet, nothing like what she'd initially thought. You really weren't all that bad. For a guy, anyway.

She fully planned on upholding her end of the bargain; she wouldn't try to have sex with you until you were ready. But once you were? Oh, she was going to have the time of her life absolutely wrecking you.

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[themoodyestj]

Ok, I think I have something to say about the current hot topic

Have you ever felt like you were dropped into a weird wicked dimension when all laws and science and logic and pretty much everything that makes sense flies out the window? I have to say I go through it all the time, and sometimes with major whisplash. But it's AA world for you guys, nothing makes much sense, and pretty much everything is twisted. I read recently that the Kween herself had deemed her clearly inferior husband worthy by professing the following words... "You'll do." And I already know what the AAs are going to say, it's playful banter, these guys don't know anything about relationships, they dont understand love, yada yada. It's not, and it's very dangerous to consider this playful banter. For the following reasons. 1 - I would consider this playful if there was a balance of negative and positive. However, Im yet to see Duhneel say anything positive (let alone sweet) about her husband.

2 - If this is playful banter, then she's oblivious to how she must behave. She goes to cons, tv segments, putting the finger on all the things J does wrong. The man works in television, he's a public figure and he depends on his image. This is pretty much the equivalent of having your significant other's boss for dinner and then ranting about how much of an unreliable idiot they are. It's stupid to spit on your breadwinner, really. And of course, it's classless, but we can all expect that from her in this point in time. I don't know for a fact that abuse is happening here, because I'm not there, but this is First Grade Moronic Nastiness if i ever seen it. And honestly, I wouldnt put it past her to verbally abuse her husband, because if she has the nerve to do it in public, where she must keep an image, imagine what she does in private. And come on, just like the SPN easter eggs he plants on the shows he works on, he also drops a few in cons about their marriage. "We work better apart", calling her Scary Spice, the vague non committal compliments he makes about her to save face... It's all there. Wales Con was an eye opener if anything, so much so that it divided the AA community. The guy was so tense he was about to snap his jaw! The body language was so telling that you really have to have your head in the sand while covering your ears singing lalalalalalala (or like i read in a comment about me CAN THEY SHUT UP, JENSEN HAS GROWN, WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT) not to notice. In fact, I hate comparisons, but this illustrates my point, so... Check this:

And compare to this:

The look on his face... He is literally turning away from her, except he can't because he's in public. And she's giving this mean girl vibe, vapid woman, "look at me, im a hotshot, i can diss your fave and you idiots still love me" vibe. In fact, can I mention her clothes? She's trying so hard to play the part of strong independent woman and failing so hard at it (I can guarantee you that's a comunity that won't claim her) that I'm pretty sure she wouldn't know what is like to be a strong independent woman even if it hit her in the face. But I digress and thats for another post altogether. In a nutshell, I don't know how people can defend these types of behaviours and consider them normal. Just a testament of their own lunacy, I guess, where everything is fair as square as long as they get to self insert. Where rules of compassion and respect do not apply because youre a celebrity (and its quite the stretch calling D a celebrity) and people can be bashed for shits and giggles. Im not the Jensen hater here.

[jennywritesz]

1.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

au where tsukishima is a scientist at college and you're his apprentice

740 words

warnings: none + slow burn

chap 1/ ??

Kei Tsukishima, a senior at college– a biologist with an aura of mystery, stepped into the laboratory with dread. Today marked the first encounter with his new apprentice, a moment he awaited with equal parts curiosity and annoyance. The thought of him having someone watch his every move made his skin crawl. As he adjusted his glasses, his eyes had a hint of mischief, already concocting a string of remarks to test the limits of his so-called apprentice. 

In the corner of the lab, amidst humming machinery and arrays of equipment, stood the young apprentice, (y/n). She obviously had determination, her eyes gleaming in an intellectual frenzy. Your presence was a stark contrast to Dr. Tsukishima's sternness, yet there was a hint of shared intellect that was possibly the start of a great partnership. 

“You must be Miss (y/n) I presume?” His voice cutting through the quiet laboratory hum. 

You nodded, offering a wide grin. “Yes, Tsukishima, it’s such an honor to work for you.” 

He turned around and went back to work, motioning for you to come observe. You stood on your tippy toes trying to get the best possible angle, he took notice of this. You sighed in annoyance.

“Too short to see the table?” He grinned to himself. You felt your face heating up with embarrassment. You slightly nodded, feeling all your pride leave your body. In this instance you didnt think height would be such an important factor, but considering he was doing a presicion experiment and he had to have the table basically up to his chest– height was a major factor.

He would never admit this out loud but, he thought it was kind of cute. Maybe this apprenticeship would work out. You had heard plenty of stories from past colleauges about how mean and rude he was, but you didnt think it to be true.

“That must suck.” He snickered. 

You thought wrong.

“I see why people call you so salty.” you remarked back.

They dont call him salty, you just felt the need to say that.

“Salty?” He glared down at you, you forgot how scary he was.

You said nothing in response, just stared at him in defiance. 

“Cat mustve gotten your tongue.” He looked away and continued his experiment, lowering the table so you could see. Maybe he wasnt so bad after all. 

You never really had gotten to know him. You had just heard stories and seen him in pass you in the hallway. Even then he didnt seem so bad. He always had this mysterious allure that made him sort of attractive, your friends never even bothered to hear you out; they wouldnt get it. You always watched him from afar, and now youre working for him, it feels kind of weird to be working for someone thats only a year older than you– he was good at what he does though.

“Are you even listening to me?” he scoffed in disbelief. This snapped you out of your trance.

“Of course im listening! Why wouldnt I be.” you rolled your eyes. You werent listening, but you cant let him know that.

“Oh really..” he paused. “Well then, I want an essay on how beneficial each finger is to the body. Turned in tomorrow.” 

Your jaw dropped. Who does he think he is? Some teacher?!

“Err.. of course.” your voice had an underlying tone of disapproval.

He took his goggles off and lowered the table completely.

“Help me clean this up.” he ordered.

You didnt realize you had spaced out that entire procedure. What kind of apprentice are you. Clearly a lousy one. 

As you finished cleaning everything up, you noticed Tsukishima struggling to wrap a bandage around his hand. You wondered what happened to him. You didnt realize it, but you were staring at him pretty intensely. 

“I cut my hand on the door handle yesterday, they finally fixed it after that.” He said with a straight face, that almost convinced you to hold his face.

“Do you need help with the bandage?” Your eyes widened at your own response. What came over you?

“Ill be fine.” he said back with a monotone voice.

Your face flushed with embarrassment, again. How many times can one embarras themself? 

“You can go now.” That was his way of saying leave now.

You took off your lab coat and grabbed your regular jacket and headed out for the night.