#i have many characters in mind with this..

[cybrasigilism]

Cockwarming w/ Squid Game 2 Men (500 Followers Special)

warning: smut, obviously | not proofread | lowercase intended | cockwarming | sub/dom! reader (depending on the character) | mommy kink | degradation | praise | these are my headcanons + interpretations of these characters, please be respectful even if my opinions on the characters differ from your own

characters: nam-gyu (player 124), thanos/choi su-bong (player 230), park min-su (player 125)

(red = sub!reader | blue = dom!reader)

A/N: HOLY MOLY!! thank you all so much for 500! i truly cannot fathom all the support and i am eternally grateful. i figured i should do something special to celebrate this milestone, so here you go! many fans will be pleased to see i am writing for several beloved squid game men from the second season! i hope you all enjoy, as always. and again thank you all SOOO MUCH!!!

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

➤ nam-gyu (player 124)

➛ if you thought you’d have any sort of say in moving while you cockwarm nam-gyu— think again. he’ll hold you in place himself if he senses you getting impatient, but he knows you’re not stupid enough to try to pull a fast one and start moving anyway.

➛ he’ll pretend that you have absolutely no effect on him like this. like it isn’t killing him just as much to keep you from bouncing on his dick the way you know he likes. it’s all apart of the process with him though, being mean and restraining any possible movement. oh and you can bet he will 100% be poking fun at how pathetic you look.

➛ “such a predictable little slut,” he scoffs, his grip on your thighs tighter than usual. “i know it’s killing you that you can’t fuck yourself on my dick, isn’t that right?” you nodded rapidly, earning a somewhat sadistic laugh from nam-gyu. he loved having you at his mercy like this

➛ he’ll be extra mean from time to time and move just an inch, playing it off as adjusting his seating. but you know damn well that it’s his own twisted way of trying to get under your skin, and oh god did it ever work.

═════════════

➤ thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

➛ thanos suggested it at first, he saw it as a fun new way to tease you. little did he know, the tables would be completely turned

➛ he wasn’t expecting to be the one in agony. he wasn’t anticipating that he would be the one to be begging for any semblance of friction as you sat motionless on his dick. you clenched down at his little whines and whimpers, but you remained calm— unrelenting in your stillness.

➛ “please baby, i’ll do anything… just move please, fuck.” his pleading was almost pathetic, you’d not seen him in such a position before. his cocky, obnoxious demeanour was thrown to the wind the moment control was ripped from his grasp.

➛ you don’t know what came over you, but suddenly you felt smug enough to tease him. i mean, if he could dish it out— he should certainly be able to take it. “oh? is this not going how you pictured? how sad.” you pretended the noise that was drawn from his throat didn’t damn near make you reconsider this yourself, his hands quickly finding their place on your hips. “señorita, please just fuck me.”

═════════════

➤ park min-su (player 125)

➛ you almost felt bad. almost. in all fairness how could you not? the way min-su was squirming under you, searching for some sort of satisfaction all while you held him down as still as you could. the tragic little whimpers he would make could have almost changed your mind into giving him the release he so clearly craved. he was gripping onto you, and you could feel him tremble.

➛ “it’s okay.” you assured him, brushing his bangs out of his face as he looked up at you with those trademark puppy dog eyes of his. “you’re doing so good for me.” you could feel his hands squeeze down on your thighs at the praise, a strained exhale leaving his lips. you had to admit, there wasn’t a hotter sight than this— seeing min-su melt in your hands like this.

➛ “ngh, mommy.. i c-can’t do this f’ much longer..” his speech was slurred beyond comprehension from the pleasure, you could feel his cock twitch inside you; desperate for any sort of leverage. “oh but you can,” you cupped his cheek, bringing him in for a kiss. as you leaned into it, you could tell even this slight shift in position was driving him up the wall— as if the way he was now moaning into your mouth wasn’t a telltale sign of his anguish.

➛ if you want to continue to drive him mad, whisper little praises in his ear.

“that’s right, you’re doing so well for mommy.”

“fuck, you feel so good… i could stay on you forever.”

“you’re doing such a good job for me, sweet boy.”

═════════════

oh em GEEEEEE!!! thank you all a million bajillion times over for 500 followers! i’ve been having a bit of a hard time feeling confident in my writing lately, but it’s honestly so relieving to see how many people await my works 🩵 i’m so eternally thankful for all of your support and each of your comments continue to make me smile :’) i promise i’ll keep working hard to contribute my best to this fandom, and of course THANK YOU GUYS FOR GIVING ME AN OPPORTUNITY TO SHARE MY PASSION FOR A SHOW I ADORE

as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my writing is appreciated and requested :) have a spectacular day/night lovelies 💋💋💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @kouzih @agorsnotworld @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga @luvlyfandoms @gabbystinks

[eggzeroni]

I love answering questions 1. You truly are a young prodigy. (I refuse to elaborate.) 2. Sherlock's 3. It's all going on in my head lmao- I kind of love it but I'm still waiting for my AO3 account to be made, I'm very excited. 4. Johnlock 5. John gaped at him. "You just solved a case, a murder, for God's sake, and you're bored?!" 6. Sherlock (not including names, my most used word is 'room'.) 7. Still exploring. STILL. 8. YP (Young Prodigy) 9. Slightly unclear, but the latest dates I have are 24th August 2024 - 2nd February 2025 10. Like... 4 weeks? I think? 11. My Enola Holmes Oneshots- 12. Younger sibling x sibling's best friend (by that I mean platonically and also I don't even know if that exists or if I just made it up lmao) 13. Sherlock (ofc :3)/ HL 14. I get inspiration from other writers cause there are so many amazing ones :3 15. STORMY! 16. My bed :') 17. I usually write a bit, edit a bit, repeat. Which I know is really bad but I can't help it. 18. I don't have the exact sentence but once I made a character speak when they were dead AND PUBLISHED IT- I had to make it so that the character was speaking in someone's mind because I was too lazy to go back and rewrite it- 19. If guns were a thing in the 1800s. Lead me down a rabbit hole. That era is actually really interesting. 20. 2024 :') I did write beforehand I just didn't know where I could publish. 21. isn't this question nine? 2024 though <3 22. I write for myself to look back on, so no, but then again I've never gotten a comment that wasn't from a loved one, so how can I be scared :') 23. Old, poetry, progressive 24. I just take breaks, look at other people's writing and get ideas. 25. I like drawing, reading, painting, digital art, poetry, history, philosophy and if I carried on it would be the length of an entire fic (lmao) 26. I can't concentrate with other people around, I have to kick them out my room. But I can write with music. Funny thing is I can't go back and edit it with music, so where's the sense there? 27. That climax point where your fingers just fly across the keyboard and even you can feel the adrenaline from the scene- 28. editing and planning. Currently the stage I'm at now with my ACTUAL book with my original characters. Bro I wanna write :') 29. Very easy. It takes me a few seconds. 30. here :3

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[ryescapades]

rin itoshi + nsfw + "don't act so shy now" please!!! thank you sm <3

→ EVENT OVERVIEW  

prompt: 11 - “don’t act so shy now,” characters: itoshi rin (bllk) x f!reader contents: nsfw mdni !! overstim, fingering, squirting, implied multiple orgasms, petname (baby), use of y/n once, teasing, lmk if there's more :') wc ~ 1k (not proofread!)

a/n: tysm for participating anon! wrote this as an expansion to this little brainrot i had yesterday

itoshi rin is getting restless.

the heat on the practice field is oddly suffocating, the clothes sticking to his back feels strange and icky, his goals aren’t hitting, his passes are lukewarm at best and impractical at worst, his teammates are more irritating than usual… among other things.

he’s fucking restless, and the aforementioned issues are not even the source of it.

rin slouches on the bench, leg bouncing as he reigns in the urge to literally bite his infuriating teammate's head off who’s sitting beside him and has been prattling on and on about the match. his coach had told him to sit the second half out, considering how much of a joy he had been acting the past almost half an hour.

his phone buzzes again in his duffel bag by his feet, the vibration sending his teeth grinding against each other in agitation. he pulls it out and immediately opens the message app to your contact just as another text from you comes in.

and there it is. the root of all his problems.

‘have i told you i missed you today? no?? i miss you rinnie :))‘ the text reads. and it would’ve sounded completely innocent if not for the image attachment you’d shared along with it.

it’s a selfie of you in the mirror, looking all pretty and absolutely his while wearing one of his jerseys. no pants, no bra, and no underwear. rin found that out from all the other– how many was it again? probably seven or eight pictures you’d sent prior to this one.

a wave of feverishness rushes inside his veins, flowing down south and making his blood boil until he can feel his pants tightening at his groin. his control is persisting on a fine thread, waiting to snap just at the right moment–

his phone vibrates in his hand. one text of ‘i think she misses you too lol’ and another scandalous photo that insinuates the heaven between your ridiculously sinful thighs later, rin thinks his mind has blacked out from that point on. the last of his control splinters and fractures into bits, and he’s already gathering his stuff from the ground before he heads towards the exit with no more than a muttered “i’m going home,” towards his coach.

the drive back feels like a nonexistent event to his brain, and so is the moment he steps through the threshold, teal hues darkening when they connect with your pair of frozen, unblinking eyes as if resembling a deer caught in headlights. “r-rin? you’re back early… how was–”

everything passes by in a blur and the next thing you know, rin has you sat with him on the bed, back against his chest and jersey bunching on your navel as he pulls another earth-shattering orgasm out of you with his fingers. “come on, baby. you can give me one more, can’t you?” he murmurs against your ear.

tears clump your lashes together, and the hitched breath erupts into a broken whine when rin starts another ruthless pace, his middle and ring fingers thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt to make you fall over the edge again.

“rin–” your hips buck in his hold as you barely notice the drenched sheets underneath your ass from how much you’ve been coming. “‘s too much, i can’t–” you whimper, thighs shaking from the overstimulation and threatening to close before rin hooks one of them beneath his and keeps a firm grip on the other, hindering you from hiding away.

“should’ve thought of that before sending those pictures to me,” he tuts against the side of your head and relishes the way you squeeze around his digits, soaking them with your slick and cum even more. his own arousal grows, digging further into your back and pushing against the constraint of his pants as your hand weakly tries to push him off.

wouldn’t be surprising if there’s already a wet patch there but he’ll take care of that later. for now, you need to be taught a lesson first after teasing him like that.

there’s a dirty cacophony of wet squelching sounds, your moans and his grunts that continues to echo in the room. rin pays it no mind, moving his thumb to rub harsh circles on your swollen clit instead. your eyes roll to the back of your head, the constant drag of his deft fingers against your sensitive walls making you delirious and drunk in an unstable cloud of maddening lust.

another broken sound spills from your parted lips as more slick visibly gushes out between his fingers, causing you to turn and hide your reddened face in his neck. “don’t act so shy now. didn’t you say this pussy missed me? i’m just giving her what she wants,” he gruffly says before gripping your chin to make you watch him play with your body as he pleases.

that familiar heat pools in your stomach, burning up your entire body in a flame of carnal desire as your next climax approaches. rin, however, is becoming impatient. he did mentally decide for one last time before he fucks you on his cock, after all.

desperate now more than ever to get on to the latter part of his decision, his fingers keep the relentless pace on your poor cunt as he rests his palm on your lower belly and gently presses down.

there’s a slight pause in your labored pants, the air getting stuck in your throat before you keen, a sharp and dizzying sense of pleasure colliding against your very mind, body and soul like a tidal wave. you’re once again thrown off the cliff, shattering and coming undone with a ruptured cry of his name tearing from your mouth.

“shit, y/n.” he curses, unable to take his eyes off the sight of you squirting on his fingers as his cock throbs even harder, your cum dripping down to his wrist in an obscene trail.

holy fuck, that might’ve been the hottest thing rin has ever experienced in his entire life.

i’m ovulating don’t look at me taglist open !

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[blacktabbygames]

I'm sure you get this a lot, but I just wanted to tell you how deeply touched I was by Slay the Princess. Its themes continue to play on my mind and after so many cycles with the Princess, I feel... Man, I can't even describe it. I feel like I know her. She feels like a person more than a character. Which is paradoxical given her nature, but. Man.

I mean a lot of it is definitely how many different choices we can make and the excellent writing therein, but also...

With how the central theme of the game seems to be that our (TLQ's) perception of the princess changed the truth of her, it is so, so easy to forge a connection with her character that feels so deeply personal.

She is what we make of her, and that means the Princess I know, the one that comes to life in my head, is my Princess. The relationship I have with her is unique, because she. Is me? It's like. God, I can't even articulate it fully. I'm just so blown away. I love this game. I can't believe what a masterpiece you've made. I feel really lucky I got to experience it.

thank you for the beautiful sentiment! :)

[matt0044]

Pokemon Heroes: The Black & White Chapter One

Despite his best efforts, Oshawott felt pins and needles all over when he stepped forward from Professor Aurea Juniper and onto the battlefield. It was the end of a busy Saturday afternoon for the Juniper Research Laboratory when time was found for a last minute match to go over a few basics. Ever since the Sea Otter Pokemon learned a rookie Trainer had selected him as their starter Pokemon, anxious didn't begin to describe his state of mind. Oshawott's body trembled in a deadly emotional cocktail of anticipation and fear. The sight of Snivy didn't help.

On the other side, a sharp-eyed Snivy stepped up on the other side of the indoor battlefield while taking in the sunlight through the clear roof above. She folded her eyes and shot a haughty look of disapproval towards Oshawott. She scoffed when she saw the cringe-worthy stern expression he was putting on. [Who do you believe your trying to con, Water Boy?] the Grass Snake Pokemon asked rhetorically, loathing such a display of posturing. She felt it her duty to remind him of his place.

[Slice her to ribbon, buddy!] Tepig oinked for his best friend from the sidelines, hopping about with energy to spare. His snout exhales steam like a engine bursting a safety value or two. He put on a determined expression like Oshawott's but could see that his friend's confident front was wavering and felt guilty for it. Even if he kept Snivy from hurting physically, her sharp tongue dealt enough damage with her insults alone.

Summary: “Fourteen-year-old Hilda, a girl with the gift to talk to Pokemon, becomes a Trainer and receives her starter Pokemon, an anxiety ridden Oshawott. Both hope to be worthy of each other's partnership and soon learn that battling is only half of their troubles. Can they face their inner demons before darker forces close in on them? Furthermore... who's this boy who shares Hilda's gift?”

This is an adaptation of Pokemon Black & White that I’ve been outlining for... years. It’s something that is based on Pokemon but also pulls inspiration from other media that have stuck with me be it Anime, cartoon or even live action.

While I have a clear vision for the story and how it’ll end, I hope to surprise even myself as I develop my characters. Many of them reflect parts of my life and struggles over the years while making them my own. It’s not just about Pokemon but what it means to have friend and a family you build on your own.

Broadly, it’s the same as the game but with Hilda being an actual character along with her Pokemon, you can expect expansions to the story if not major deviations. It will follow multiple volumes or “Chapters” as I call them with one story arc in each of them. This way I can take breaks between each larger installment.

In any case, dive right in.

Based on actual events

[1296-very-good-year]

The thing that bugs me most about Caitlyn's arc is how obviously she was forced into the position Jayce had been set up to fill.

Jayce was the de facto head of the council that Sheriff Marcus (keep that in mind) reported directly to for city security.

He was the Golden Boy, Man of Progress, beloved by everyone in Piltover for the invention of Hextech! Charismatic! Handsome!

They didn't NEED martial law. After Jayce emerged unscathed from the terrorist attack, most of the council dead, Piltover would have been falling over itself to give him sole authority regardless of him wanting to quit the council right before the attack.

And Jayce should have been beside himself with rage! Jinx turned his invention, his dream, into a weapon that nearly killed him and the two people he loves most! Mel and Viktor, at the same time! She ruined his peace deal! (And killed Silco, but for some reason Cait and Vi never tell anyone about that)

But nope. He's just sad, and tries to talk Caitlyn down from wanting to kill Jinx.... Like wtf!! Where did his passion go?? His recklessness? Caitlyn got it all.

Let's say he's still reeling after killing the kid in his shimmer raid and fearing the consequences of violent intervention. Fine. But then there is the attack at the memorial. Now it's bigger than Jinx, and his entire city is threatened.

Picture the end of episode 1, with the council gathering in the basement after the memorial attack and it is JAYCE marching in to announce the strike team, with Caitlyn and Vi beside him, with their shiny Hextech weapons.

They didn't need to give Caitlyn political power. She could have become Sheriff under Jayce! She would have had nearly the EXACT same scenes. She doesn't get a single moment where she acts like a political leader in Act 2 anyway!

We never see her do anything the sheriff wouldn't do, which tells me this was a late change to cram all the remaining story into one season, to every character's detriment. If Caitlyn had just been following Jayce's orders until running into Vi, her flip would not have felt so jarring.

She loves Jayce as an older brother, she's grieving her mother, she and Jayce could have BOTH been manipulated by Ambessa. Let Caitlyn be at the forefront of all the awful shit she's ORDERED to do, instead of ordering it HERSELF.

By giving her ultimate authority instead, the few clipped scenes of her redemption, her "I know" and letting Jinx go free are nowhere near enough to get the audience back on her side. As evidenced by how many people hated her arc this season.

[thanosspills]

A Night Out With "Team Thanos"

Synopsis: You and your new-found friends survived the games together after X's win the majority vote. Now that your roomies, a typical weekend with the group is cheering Thanos on at his show, getting wasted, and dancing at Nam-gyu's hot-spot club.

This is a continuation of my last team Thanos story! You can read it here (You don't need to read it to read this story, they're mainly just headcannons!)

Characters: Se-mi/player 380, Thanos/player 230, Nam-gyu/player 124, Min-su/player 125, Gyeong-su/player 256

Squid game au outside of the games, very light-hearted :) ...maybe

Reader is dating Thanos!

Warnings: drinking

"Hell no I'm not wearing that." Se-mi immediately shuts down your suggestion as she glares at the short black dress you picked out for her. "But you'd look so hot in it!" you argue. She rolls her eyes and fidgets with her lip ring, her go-to move when contemplating something. "Babe!" You hear Thanos shout from the bathroom. You throw the black dress at Se-mi and rush over to him.

Thanos is standing in front of the mirror looking defeated. "How the fuck do you get these to stick up?" Thanos gestures at his short pieces of hair on the sides of his head cut to look like horns. They sadly droop sideways, sticking out horizontally. You burst out a giggle, "Hey don't laugh! We have to go and I look stupid." He pouts. You compose yourself and grab the hair gel on the counter, "I'm sorry baby I'm sorry" You say, still holding in laughter. You stand on the tips of your toes to get a good angle on his head as he looms over you. You rub the gel into your fingers and run them through his purple strands of hair, pointing them upward and slightly curling them so they stay up just how he likes them. "There you go." You smile at Thanos, admiring how damn good he looks. You set the gel back down on the counter, Thanos's eyes locked on you. He grabs your wrist and pulls you back toward him. He places his other hand on your waist, moving it down to your ass as he pulls you into a deep, prolonged kiss. It was his way of saying thank you, and god you liked that so much more then the words.

"You're gonna be late to your own damn show if you don't hurry." Se-mi interrupts standing at the doorway with Min-su and Gyeong-su next to her. She's wearing the dress you gave her, her arms crossed uncomfortably. "Yo, Thanos looking fly my bro!" Gyeong-su excitedly shouts, doing little finger horns above his head. Thanos grins and dabs Gyeong-su up, before shouting "LET'S GOOO!" as he jumps through the living room toward the front door. You smile at Se-mi, "Look at youuu!" you tease. She chuckles and playfully nudges you, "Shut up." You turn back toward Min-su, asking, "What do you think?" Min-su shyly smiles and looks at the ground. "She looks good.."

Thanos dabs up the bouncer as you and the group walk into the club, his arm draped around your shoulder. Nam-gyu spots you guys and marches over to Thanos, "There you are! Fuck, dude you were almost late again." Thanos grins, "Chill bro, the fans love me they don't mind waiting." Thanos turns to you and dramatically kisses the top of your head, "See you on stage, senõrita!' He skips away and Nam-gyu angrily speeds up to catch up with him.

Thanos's presence takes over the entire club, everyone was chanting and jumping up and down to each song. After the games, Thanos used his money to up the production of his music and found his footing again as a rapper. His success skyrocketed, giving his career a second life. He honestly didn't need to play at a club, but he enjoys the personality of a local crowd and likes bringing attention to Nam-gyu's work. You and Gyeong-su are jumping up and down, rapping Thanos's lyrics at each other. Gyeong-su had been to so many of his concerts before the games he was better at keeping up, which you were slightly jealous of. He always teased you about being a bigger fan. Se-mi swayed and sipped on her drink as Nam-gyu was forcefully gripping Min-su's shoulders from behind and shaking him to the song.

Thanos blew the crowd an animated kiss and ran backstage, immediately swallowing you with a big hug. He peppered your face in kisses, the adrenaline of performing still pumping through his body. He would always say his two favorite drugs were you and the stage. Gyeong-su ran up to you guys, drunkenly bouncing up and down "BRO THAT WAS FUCKING WILD! YOU WERE A BEAST UP THERE!"

"SHOTS FOR THE V.I.PS!" The bartender poured up two shots for each of you, everyone clinked glasses and threw them back. Min-su always coughed and gagged after each one, and Nam-gyu always gave him a hard time for it. Nights like these made everyone forget the games ever existed. You guys weren't drinking to forget, you were all just friends, making memories to help combat the brutality you collectively witnessed. It's what made you guys so close. The tension between the group in the games quickly decimated once you guys made it out and agreed to stick together.

You were feeling the looseness and euphoria the alcohol gave you, Gyeong-su darted toward the dance floor as one of his favorite rap songs started playing. Se-mi, Nam-gyu and Min-su followed. Thanos stood up, "Come on senõrita let's dance!" He shouted. You giggled, "Okay, okay hang on!" You quickly grab what's left of your drink and down it. You turn toward the bar top to set it back down, and your heart drops at the sight of something you swear wasn't there a second ago. A brown paper business card laid flat on the counter. Sharp, agonizing memories flood back to you. It was exactly how you remembered it, despite you trying so hard to forget all of it. You pick it up with shaky hands. A circle, a triangle, and a square decorated the top. How the fuck was this possible? You turn it over, reading the familiar digits. "456-034"

I saw a couple people asking for more so heres a part two :)) Sorry this ones kinda short. I love writing for team Thanos so much let me know what you think!!

[sharky-teeth]

anyone looking for more wincest fic recs?? nobody?? okay here you go anyway. i have a bunch of fics i couldn't fit into the other list, so i needed to make a brand new one with more variety this time around. i organized it by wordcount to make things easier, however i rarely read long fics, so these are mostly pretty short. once again this list got way out of hand...

(for mature or explicit rating, you can assume it's [sometimes implied] bottom sam, or it isn't discussed. for bottom dean or versatile samdean, i made a small separate section of my favorites.)

1k~5k

Remember the Mountain Bed by nigeltde (G, 1k): post canon. sam and dean jr. one of the only fics that have ever made me cry and with only a thousand words! this one is so very dear to my heart, heartbreaking in its details, yet warm and soothing at the same time. just gorgeous.

Are You by lovetincture (G, 1k): one of my favorite gen fics. i adore second person POV and this is a great example of how it can maximize impact.

I Was the Dirty Little Boy (E, 1k): a quick weecest sparring session turning into spanking... you know. the good stuff.

Stealth Run by LaughableLament (E, 1k): late seasons + established relationship + possessive dean + slutty sam. i love this author a lot.

State of Mind by lovetincture (M, 2k): the summary goes "It's legal in the state of Ohio." yes it is as good as suggested. the tension in this fic mwahh

The Euphoria Emporium by Laughable_Lament (E, 2k): sam and dean visit a sex shop and dean gets jealous. quick and nasty.

Be Mine by De_Nugis (T, 2k): first part of a short series. for people who love silly, goofy samdean. this is no plot, pure crack. the kind that actually makes you laugh out loud.

Dating for Dummies by sevenfists (M, 3k): there's not enough first time aftermath fics. this has ruined me because it is the exact level of lighthearted i love, where the brothers continue being brothers first and foremost, even after boning.

We Are Drinking Beer at Noon on Tuesday by whirlpoolsleep (M, 3k): neat outsider POV. always love seeing the brothers through normal people's eyes.

With Mercy for the Greedy by whiskyandoldspice (E, 3k): unmatched weecest pwp. the amount of hits/kudos doesn't always mean quality but for this one it absolutely does. this is pretty much flawless in my eyes.

August 5th, 2001 by coricomile (M, 4k): established weecest! this was cute and tender with the right amount of angst surrounding sam's imminent departure. bittersweet ending.

Run It All Over by runawaydr3amer (E, 4k): first part of a series. the classic "brotherly handjobs" scenario, but it immediately stood out to me. really on point voices and hot amosphere.

Dean's palm would be rougher by FrancesHouseman (M, 4k): hand kink! i think we can all relate to sam here. this has a scene that's hotter than many pwps i've read lol

Know when to walk away and know when to run by deirdre_c (E, 4k): brothers playing strip poker goes too far... set in s3. great sexual tension and a super satisfying first time.

At Least It's Only One Song by ADeedWithoutaName (E, 4k): dean-gifting-sam-a-lap-dance fic. another outsider POV with an instantly likable OC. she can tell there's something off about those guys...

sticks and stones and weed and bones by aeroport_art (M, 5k): sam seeing a therapist at stanford. really great character study and winchester family dynamics. the conclusion to this story is just... crazy. so well done.

Shadows on the Sun by Linden (M, 5k): soft weecest first kiss! the thing i liked most in this story is how protective they both are. nice brotherly feelings.

wretched creation (M, 5k): one of my favorite reads of last year! criminally underrated work with less than a thousand hits. angsty feels and an unsettling atmosphere. dean facing a demon who knows more about his feelings toward his little brother than he'd like.

Forty-One by themegalosaurus (E, 5k): angsty unnegotiated kinky sex with lots of hell trauma. the kind of porn that's so nuanced and well written it doesn't get me horny (that's a compliment!)

Monumentally Stupid by strive2bhappy (5k): dean helps sam shave and it was hotter than i could ever imagine. great banter, tension, and emotional weight.

Double Solitaire by objectlesson (M, 5k): post mystery spot. amazing character study through a very creative concept. this is one of the authors who really knew how to write dysfunctional wincest.

6k~10k

this bullet inside me by missroserose (E, 6k): who's up for angsty first time in a long time? if you enjoy hathfrozen (i'm sure you do), this will definitely hit a similar spot.

Belonging by strive2bhappy (6k): wifey sam. i repeat Wifey Sam!!!

Lucky Streak by merle_p (M, 6k): thirsty pining done so right. incest that gives you butterflies in the stomach, believe it or not.

You Can't Lose What You Never Had by nigeltde (E, 6k): nigeltde is an incredible writer. from beginning to end this fic is insane. angsty, desperate, emotional, shameful, this takes you on a rollercoaster of emotions. top notch characterization.

How it Works by Dyed_Red (M, 6k): this is probably in my top ten fics of all time, peak codependent, obsessive, dysfunctional samdean. this particular fic really nails their dynamic and the most delicious, fucked up aspects of it.

Taking to Give by Dyed_Red (M, 7k): lovely character study. this one is a bit softer than most Dyed_Red works, it offers an emotional view of sam and dean growing up. heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.

Wire Inside Me by merle_p (E, 7k): the sam-is-carrying-lucifer's-baby fic. this story is great for how it deals with the pregnancy pushing dean over the edge. the first time tension here is excellent!

Dean is badass. Sam has always known it. by FrancesHouseman (E, 7k): very interesting dynamic with sam and dean playing mind games to see who gives in first. i like this cocky sam a lot.

Hush Little Baby by hellhoundsprey (E, 7k): CNC weecest. sam and dean go to a haunted house and get up to some nasty freaky shit. it's even better than you can imagine. fyi there's dean in a clown costume.

they said it was the fall of man by jukeboxhound (M, 7k): set in s6, the aftermath of sam getting his soul back through dean's POV. pure angst and overwhelming emotions, beautifully written, it hurt so good.

Man of Steel by glovered (T, 8k): THE lighthearted incest fic for me. along the lines of paxlux's 'Artery', at least to me. this borders on crack, a hilarious, feel-good story that always makes me smile when i think about it.

Disney Princess Hair by Dyed_Red (T, 8k): gencest/weirdcest in its best shape. sam as sleeping beauty! and obviously dean being very very very weird about handling the curse. i loved how this touched on the obsessive aspects of their relationship while keeping the tone light.

Architecture of Choice by Dyed_Red (E, 9k): yes another Dyed_Red work bc they're my favorite author. this one has one of my fave tropes (fuck or die) and it deals with sam's lack of bodily autonomy in a visceral way.

Pull over by jjtaylor (E, 9k): for my piss play enjoyers! this has lots of great tension and it goes way beyond kinky sex.

This Is All Very Meta by road_rhythm (E, 10k): loss of virginity roleplay fic. except it's sooo much more than that. i thought this would be fun and lighthearted, couldn't have been more wrong. the emotional depth delivered here caught me by surprise, but it shouldn't have, given the author. flawless characterization as usual.

God will forgive me but by sammyatstanford (E, 10k): weecest with lots of pining!sam and angsty yearning. brothers who need each other in sick, twisted ways. there was also a great amount of actual brotherly feelings, which is always a plus in my book.

>10k

Acid by Goshen (E, 12k): to this day one of the most insane things ever written. this fic is a classic, it's a surreal experience, a fever dream. dissecting the brotherfuckers, no stone left unturned.

Baby Blue by Edwardina (E, 13k): sam gets hit with a curse that makes him need to suck on a pacifier 24/7. it turned out to be way less sexual than i expected, this is for caretaker!dean lovers.

Learn to say the same thing by glovered (T, 14k): great case fic. sam and dean go to a single's retreat in the mountains for a case and eventually have to confront their incestuous feelings. every glovered fic just fills me with joy.

Supersize Me, Sammy by awabubbles (E, 16k): sadly one of the only size queen sam fics ever written, but it is absolutely perfect so i made my peace with that.

Only Natural (Be My Hands) (E, 17k): sam manages to break both his wrists so dean steps up to take care of his needs. and i mean all of his needs.

Relapse by ani_coolgirl (M, 21k): lebanon AU. i adore this fic, i'm in love with it, i think about it all the time and will think about it forever probably. everything here was done incredibly well, one of those fics that feel specifically made for me lol

Edges by glovered (M, 23k): amazing banter and lots of UST. set in stanford era but it's not really angsty. the tone was just perfect for me, this fic had me GIDDY.

Driving Down the Darkness by Nutkin (M, 39k): one of my faves in terms of Brotherly Feels. extremely well written and thoughtful, super slow burn. outstanding early seasons getting together fic that everyone should read.

Like a Ghost with Two Voices by Dyed_Red (E, 46k): my favorite demon!dean fic. some of the wildest scenes i've ever read. pretty disturbing and incredibly delicious. if you're into fucked up consent stuff, this is a must read. it has a happy ending!

bottom dean and versatile samdean recs:

Take Backs by saltandbyrne (E, 2k): swesson + switching. hands down one of the best PWPs i've ever read, which was to be expected from saltandbyrne. it really doesn't get filthier than this.

How to Wear Polka Dots by homo_pink (M, 6k): swesson. this one is so so weird. and so charming. interesting and refreshing writing style, i had so much fun reading this.

Here's Your Future by autoschediastic (E, 7k): weecest with teasing!dean for a change. loved the power dynamics here, and the intensity throughout the whole fic. desperate, guilty first time, badwrong at its finest.

Enduring Love by oschun (E, 7k): really enjoyed the relationship study here, insightful and well written.

there will be better days by deadlybride (E, 9k): my favorite heaven fic! so warm and peaceful and emotional, full of love and longing and happy reunited soulmates. just thinking about this story makes my heart ache in the best way. really really beautiful.

Yeah, I'm a Back Door Man (E, 22k): established relationship. dean's hell trauma. this was a rollercoaster, great character study, good mix of angst and schmoop as well. probably the best bottom dean i've read so far (along with a couple Goshen works)

Yesterday, minnesota by Goshen: (E, 29k): speaking of applecrumbledore... this fic truly rewired my brain. the queen of "fucking for years without talking about it until one of them snaps". brilliantly executed, one of my favorite deans ever.

yay it's finally over! still i wish i had more long fics to rec lmao do check tags carefully before reading! enjoy the wincest goodness!

[rennerator]

YUP SOOO TRUE, it felt like that indeed... A Tragedy... A crime... Poetic, but still, EMPTY... Empty in the way that it felt, to me, like as the episode was going more and more it was destroying and "taking away" just everything that was built and constructed and developed during all the whole 15 seasons... Because what an AWFUL way to end such a beloved series, that had SO MANY INTERESTING and INCREDIBLE characters and stories... What a way to pay homage to the fans and cast, to the characters and their journeys that were all part of this show... To the "motto" of Found Family / Family Doesn't End With Blood... By making it ONLY about the "Blood Family"... By making it feel like all the interactions and bonds and growth and wins and losses were for nothing... By having Dean and Sam just wear the "same outfit" that they had on during the first episode... For what? To say that it was just the first and last episodes that truly mattered? Anyways, sorry for the additional rant/yap on here! XD Yeah, I don't like the Finale... It was a HORRIBLE experience, for me, to watch it... Thank you SO MUCH for sharing this with us!!! I hope you don't mind me tagging along with your post!!!! You are WONDERFUL! :) <3

don’t get me wrong i am a finale hater at my core but there’s something poetic about how it’s thoroughly established throughout the show that cas was the “malfunction” in the system that caused the story not to go the way chuck wanted it to by developing free will and rebelling from heaven and then the moment he dies the story ends with dean dying and sam living an “regular life” the way it would’ve if the series never happened at all

like the series spends a lot of time saying cas is NOT the way he’s supposed to be. he rebelled the moment he saved dean from hell. he turns the narrative on its head by developing free will and making his own decisions. chuck even tells him that this is the only universe in which cas “didn’t do as he was told”. he ruins chucks plan for the brothers at every turn by caring about them.

then moment cas was gone the story went back to the way it would’ve ended if the show never happened and he had never affected anything. like the “error” was deleted and it reverted to the way it “should be”. dean died tragically and stupidly on a hunt way too young doing a job for his father. sam got out and lived an “apple pie life” and died old. they went to heaven with their family and it’s all The Way It Should Be, not matching up with the message of found family the show developed and instead returning to the blood family vibe of the early seasons pre cas. like he died and the story stopped resisting chucks wishes. idk i’m just yapping but it feels like something

[chimerafeathers]

the concept of intentional boredom/tedium in video games is very much a "your mileage may vary" kind of thing and i go back and forth about it in different situations. where does it work? where does it feel earned/worth the mental toll? why am i gonna play a game that is trying to make me miserable?

i can understand this not being the case for everyone (ymmv, after all) but for ISaT i was so fucking fully on board with the repetitive tedium of it all. rubbing my grubby little hands together and going yesssss, yesssssss, make my immersive gameplay experience directly emulate the exact frustrations and anxieties and mind-numbing breakdowns of the player character. remind me, at every turn, the toll this would take on the person living it. make me live their inner monologue before it's ever verbalized on screen.

how strong you feel, compared to the party you're inevitably leaving behind, how weak they seem now. how annoying it is to cut down these same enemies again and again, always pointlessly getting in your way (oh, how convenient that Siffrin feels the same way so intensely that you can get an item that lets him scare them off by sheer force of will before they attack you!). since when was the King's battle--so terrifying, so impossible before--so easy? can't this go faster? you've heard this all before.

let me skip ahead, loop around, treat my character my body Siffrin as disposable, take the fast and easy way to reach the next goal when you're on the verge of an exciting breakthrough, this loop doesn't matter anyway. but ohh, this next loop might be The One, better do this one right and follow the script to perfection. make all the jokes and say all the right things to get the lovely bonding dialogue so you can carry the Best Version of Everyone through to the end. that'll give you the Good Ending, right? can't hurt to try, right? you don't really believe it but this time will fix everything, right?

how generous and wonderful to have so many shortcuts at hand! dissociating zoning out to skip repetitive dialogue, splitting your head open on a rock slipping on a banana peel in the town to loop right to the floor you need, suuuuurely all of this stuff is purely for the Player's Convenience and won't have any psychological impact on our dear protagonist such that it gets slammed back into the player's face as a stomach-dropping reminder that someone's moment-to-moment experience in this time loop still matters, still carries over, still gets riddled with scars even if they can't be seen!

i've played & watched enough games that trivialize/hand-wave game mechanics that it's pretty easy to detach myself from the minutiae of video game decision-making. "this input gets the Good Response" -> "i will continue doing this input." "this option will be more efficient" -> "might as well save some time then." but this game would not let me stop thinking about consequence.

picking Siffrin's favorite food makes them happy! :) it's also the option that makes Bonnie the happiest! yay! -> i keep picking their favorite food -> Siffrin gradually grows sick of something that once brought him joy -> oh. right. that...makes sense, huh.

okay i asked the King what i needed, mann there won't be any tears after the fight is over so i'll have to do the whole ending scene again and that takes a while and i reeeeally wanna talk to Loop, maybe i'll just lose on purpose this time -> OH. RIGHT. THIS IS MAYBE THE MOST PAINFUL WAY FOR SIFFRIN TO DIE BOTH PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY HUH. -> never gonna do that again actually!!!!! the ending isn't that long!!!!

banana peel time! we've got places to be and mysteries to solve! -> (you're a living comedy sketch.) (you wonder if you'll ever be able to smell bananas again without wanting to vomit.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry

it's always cute to see Isabeau's reactions! pick the options that make him blush :3 -> (disgusting. manipulative. it's no wonder he thinks he likes you, you made him feel that way.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry siffrin NO he liked you before any of this happened please don't think of yourself that way--

maybe it won't hit the same for every player (what game can expect to do that?) but holy fuck it hit for me. the way the mechanics let you fall into familiar gamey rhythms but constantly, constantly remind you that this is Siffrin's life you're playing with. the way you end up perfectly in step in the worst ways. muscle memory and habit built up so well that you both stumble when something changes. devastating and delicious

[strwbrychffoncke]

"you'll feel it deep down whenever you're alone,, 1.1k words synopsis: caleb can't find it in himself to regret this if its something you've always wanted ,too contains: nsfw! (+ angst?) ,lnds caleb x afab!reader ,wouldn't call it 'forbidden love' but just playing w the idea of yearner!caleb (& coming to terms w being able to have u) ,caleb wrestling w guilt over his feelings ,reassurance from reader (u both want this) ,you sit on his lap ,confession ,kissing ,touching ,implied first time (more for caleb than for reader) ,hand holding ,unprotected sex ,piv ,caleb is kinda possessive right at the v end ,i think thats it note: (unedited!) knew this song was perfect for him but had to try had to write smth that would fit too.... this is lowkey a character study disguised as a fic :x also thought ab this + this art while writing which helps convey the feeling i was going for here (go support the artist they mean sm to me)

-

caleb knows he shouldn't feel like this.

he's known since he first realized his feelings back then.

how many years has it been now? he couldn't tell since he's loved you for as long as he could remember.

he's known he shouldn't feel like this, he does, but when you asked him so sweetly, sitting on his lap, testing the waters, pressing yourself against him and finding a shred of boldness to spill what's been on your mind all of these years, what could he do but comply with your desires?

"i'm in love with you, caleb. i always have been. i need you to know. i... i need you, more than anything. you're the only one that i want."

his hands caress the apples of your cheeks and he reminisces about your baby fat from when you were younger, admiring the current softness of them, unable to resist the urge to squish them just slightly.

he watches you nuzzle into his familiar touch, eyes fluttering shut at the comforting warmth of his hands.

his breathing picks up ever so slightly.

how many times have you been in this sort of situation right now? so close in proximity, breaths beginning to intermingle with one another, wondering who will make the next move.

a thumb glides over your lips, caressing the plushy flesh.

how many times has he held you like this, wanting more than anything to close the distance, but unable to find it in himself, hesitating before pulling back altogether?

your eyes crack open, looking directly into his.

'don't....'

"caleb..."

'don't look at me like that.'

you lean forward ever so slightly, eyes locked with his.

'don't....'

he feels your warm breath on his lips, so close that if he leans forward just slightly, he'll meet you.

'don't say it....'

"kiss me."

your words are a whisper against his lips, and his eyes are wide, looking back into yours, so close yet unwilling to make the move if he really isn't willing.

you've never made it easy for him.

his thumbs brush over your cheeks.

"are you sure?"

"i'm sure."

his forehead rests against yours.

"you've really thought about this?"

"more than anything."

he inhales a shaky breath.

"okay."

he closes the distance.

-

the kiss slowly escalates to now, his fingertips traveling slowly down your skin, hands trembling at your sides, torn between holding you in his firm grasp and pulling away completely.

you were the worst kind of drug to him.

but he could never stay away.

noticing his hesitation you gently rested your hands over his, pushing them flat against your abdomen.

"its okay," your voice was soft, too soft, too sweet right now.

don't say it like that.

"you can touch me, caleb."

his breath hitched.

don't say that so easily.

"i want this, too," you breathed out, offering a kind, reassuring smile devoid of the usual teasing you two were used to engaging each other with.

and he felt what little restraint he had left, snap.

don't....

he took a deep breath, planting his hands firmly onto your stomach, feeling the soft material of your shirt under his fingertips before he started dragging his hands up and down.

he looked up at your face.

you nodded. keep going.

his touch moved up, feeling your breasts through your shirt.

you hummed under the kneading of his large hands, and he felt his heart lurch.

he was really touching you like this.

you were so soft, just how he'd imagined you'd be. his heart hammered in his chest, unable to tear his eyes away from you, unable to tear his eyes away from the face that he was the one corrupting you this way.

even so, even if he felt like he was ruining you under the touch of his fingertips...

"caleb, take it off."

when your sweet reassurances were all that continued to spill from your lips, looking up at him pleadingly and longingly, how could this possibly be wrong?

-

caleb is taken aback at the sight of your body in all of its beauty.

sure, he had grown up with you, watching you grow in return, and would often be reminded of just how much you'd grown from back then.

this was a sight he'd only dreamed of.

he realized he'd been staring for too long when you squirmed under his gaze, looking to the side and shielding yourself with your arms.

"dont just stare.... i know i'm—"

"you're beautiful, pipsqueak," he breathes out.

you meet his eyes staring right back into yours, and watch as his hands reach for your wrists, removing your arms from your center and gently pinning them to the mattress.

his eyes rake over your body again, his hands inching up to intertwine his fingers with yours.

"i just.. can't believe i really get to have you like this."

you heart thrums, small smile curling on your lips. you knew exactly what he meant.

"me too," you whisper.

caleb lets out a shaky breath.

he feels you squeeze his hand.

"kiss me, caleb."

he doesn't think twice this time, leaning down to capture your lips with his, the depths of his feelings pouring directly into you, and you can feel it, feel how badly he's wanted this, how badly he wants it, and you're only filled with relief that the sentiment is shared.

when you break away and urge him to keep going, he does so with little hesitation.

each touch of his is spurred on by your pleased sounds and urges of "just like that" and "there" as he explores your body, learning about what exactly makes you feel good, committing it to memory for future reference of this repeated time together.

when you urge him on, whining about how you need him inside, caleb is slipping out of his shorts and boxers and tossing his shirt over his head, wasting no time in pumping himself with one hand and caressing your stomach with the other before lining himself up with your awaiting entrance.

he looks up at you again, another look.

"are you sure?"

and you grab onto his arms, eyes full of determination and desire.

"yes, wanted this for so long, please caleb!"

a relieved sigh.

"me too, pipsqueak."

when he sheathes himself into you for the first time, he can't bring himself to feel guilty anymore, not when this feels so right, not when you feel so good.

and when he begins moving within you, thrusting in and out and setting a steady pace, your sounds of pleasure filling his ears, the sight and feel of you enveloping his sense, he leans down to kiss you again, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you two were always meant to be together like this.

he wouldn't let you go. he would make you his properly, and you would always be together: caleb would make sure of it.

-

a/n: i know i know im behind... working on the other fics as we speak :x

-

[taelophone]

Malevolence ⋆˙⟡ — Academic Rival!Luigi Mangione x Reader CWs: Slight narcissism . Mean Luigi (what did u expect) . He Makes You Cry . Identity Issues . Feelings Denial . Masturbation (Luigi) . Jealousy . Pebbling (literally lol) . Apology Sex . Oral (F receiving) . NOT PROOFREAD!! ⟡ — Reader is hinted Mid-Western cuz I thought it was funny lol. It’s NOT major tho + a cliffhanger cuz for some reason nobody wanted to wait n just wanted to blow my inbox up about this fic. Suffer.

Luigi had always been hailed as a smart boy. From the time he was born to when he opened his mouth, complexities and conundrums rolled off of his tongue that would leave the oldest and wisest of men in a marveled stupor.

He was used to having eyes on him at all times, and admittedly, it almost grew too much to handle at such a young age. However, after a couple of years of balancing paranoia and self-righteousness, Luigi had grown to adore the affections that seemed to shower him from all angles.

He was smart, incredibly talented, had both feet firm on his moral sands, and was at least somewhat attractive. What more could a man ask for?

He carried through his adolescence with the world nestled gently on his shoulders. The threat of faltering or underperforming wasn’t a possibility for him. He was better than that.

So when he got accepted into an Ivy League, he felt like he was on top of the world. No object stood between him and greatness, and if there were, he would conquer it like he had hundreds of times before.

On his first day of college, he wiggled through orientation with a relatively quiet presence. He didn’t speak unless spoken to, letting himself get a feel for his environment and how to acclimate before plunging himself in headfirst.

However, one of the people his eyes seemed to pull to the most was you.

Whispers and remarks whisked around him, flicking drops of color and light over your shadowed character. Valedictorian…pretty…community service warrior…and a STEM major from somewhere in the States that he had been ignorant of in his prior years. 

Love and hate are two sides of the same kind. Both require one to feel so deeply for the other, and it drives them mad and in anguish. For a man as intelligent as Luigi, it seems he wasn’t aware of this common concept.

He had never even properly interacted with the poor young woman, yet the years of evolution sent bells ringing in his mind that categorized you as a threat. The empire he had spent so much time building to better himself as a man— for the sake of other people, threatened to capsize with the introduction of a new apex predator.

You didn’t do anything. He didn’t even know you yet, and he was never one to believe mindless rumors or unconfirmed information. But alas, man is still man when placed in a foreign environment.

Ever since orientation day, he’s kept a close eye on you. He wasn’t ready to relinquish his title of valedictorian, especially not to some random Midwest malevolence that posed a threat to his persona’s integrity.

One thing Luigi loved about the grand and precise creation of man was the mind; what does it take to make it tick and writhe in shame? What can you do to influence the brain to tear itself apart until it reduces itself to its simplest biological form— vulnerable prey.

Well, there are many ways. Depravation, intimidation, ostracization, or simple bullying.

Luigi was never a bully, no, that’s too far. What Luigi really was, however, was wholly mad and half obsessed with the woman who sat two rows in front of him with a pen in her hand and a pink journal next to her arm.

Ostracization it is!

When you first spoke to Luigi, things seemed pretty…interesting. It was the day before midterms, a little later into October, and you were cooped up in the library with a large cup of liquid energy and a near-overheated computer.

Papers surrounded you in a way that would seem near manic to passersby, watching yet another engineer go mad with determination and get high off stress. You were so immersed in your work, the multi-colored highlighters gliding across the dry paper as you recited different codes in your mind and punched them into your computer, that you neglected to hear the footsteps that had stopped at the end of your table.

“Oh…you look…tense,” he smiled, his brows furrowing with mild concern. “You sure you got this, girl?”

You paused, gazing at him with what could only be described as disheveled innocence.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’m Luigi,” He added, giving you a small smile as he sipped the coffee—…no, tea, in his cardboard cup of mystery.

You nodded, giving him your name in response with a half-there smile. You weren’t trying to be rude, but the near weeks of study and lack of sleep were starting to eat away at the back of your brain and left you feeling a little more vulnerable than you’d care to admit in front of a six-foot man.

“Yeah I’m…fine, sorry, just cramming,” you sighed, your hands resting on your head after you dropped your little pen.

“Oooh,” he whistled, sucking in a shallow breath through his clenched teeth. “That’s not good. Are you sure you’re meant to be in computer science?” He chuckled, boyish and unserious.

Crackle…Crack…KSSSHHKH.

You chuckled, breathy and shallow as your brows pinched together a little at the subtle audacity behind his joke. 

“Haha…ha, no, yeah I’m right where I wanna be. It's stressful but I’ve loved it ever since I was in middle school,” you nodded with a polite smile.

Well played, girl!

He nodded, the bone of his jaw locking up a bit more as he fought to keep the smile on his face. 

“Oh…that’s cute, yeah!” He beamed, readjusting his black-and-silver browline glasses that began to slip down the bridge of his nose. “Well…good luck!” He nodded before he slinked away almost as quietly as he had arrived.

Cute…? What’s so cute about my interest? Has he been involved in robotics and computer science longer than me? What does cute even mean…

You sighed, the slight feeling of insecurity and confusion creeping up through your spine and drowning your head in the murky black sludge of inferiority that infiltrated your mind. What a fucking condescending man.

Actually, I was gonna pack up and leave, but now I’m mad.

Pity the disease that plagues the mad scientist. For she has naught the skill or composure to stop the self-made machine that drives her into Abaddon.

Wholly mad and half-obsessed, you were now just as focused on Luigi as he was on you. Eager to prove him wrong— hungry for an outlet to be just as abrasive and patronizing to him as he was to you.

Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe he genuinely thought your life-long interest in engineering and science was cute! Whatever that means.

But his strange and slightly infuriating comments became a habit of his. Every time you had a conversation with him, he made a little vague comment that left you feeling more slighted than before. Hidden under the guise of elderly concern, his viperous venom of hatred poured from his mouth like a child who couldn’t stand the taste of his food.

Everyone seemed to love Luigi, though… Whenever he came up in a conversation, at least one woman in the room proclaimed her platonic—or intimate—love for the nerd. He was so kind and reassuring, the kind of man who can only be born from a lifetime of gentle love and firm parenting to keep him on the right path.

But little old you never got any of that. He was always so surface-level, slightly cold, and maybe even aggravating– but nothing could have prepared you for when you finally began to get grades and mid-terms back.

A ninety-six.

You were ready to jump and shout with joy, do laps around the whole building, or maybe even praise the god that sat upstairs that willed your success into existence. Unbridled joy poured through your eyes as you nearly passed out from relief, much to the dismay of someone nearby.

Something about how your eyes twinkled like stars, the wet salt pooling at your waterline glossing them over like a beautiful orb of light. It made his stomach jump and twitch with…irritance.

Did you think you were better than him? He’s supposed to be the gold standard, not you! But that’s okay, but he got a ninety-eight on his exam and knew just how to knock the wind out of you.

Just as silent as last time, he approached with a slightly confused look on his face.

“What did you get for forty-seven?” He asked, folding over the packet of paper to reveal the only question he got wrong.

“Oh wow, you’re…really good,” you murmured, scanning over the big red number on the back of his paper.

“Oh, thank you! I think the class average was like ninety-eight or ninety-nine. I need to study more, really…” He fibbed, the little white lie falling over his words and casting a spell of superiority over you.

You instantly stopped smiling, the joy you once had flickering away drastically. You had always considered yourself a good student, but why now were you underperforming? 

“Oh, I guess I’ll just have to study more and beat you,” you joked, the weight of your words dying on your tongue as you attempted to placate the rage that ran rampant in your mind. It wasn’t a joke, you were one hundred percent serious, and you hoped deep down that he knew that.

Here you were, performing at below-average levels and celebrating it like some sort of fool with her red nose and fiery hair. Luigi had made as many comments as he could over three months, now all that had burned from the embers and ash of your strained relationship was unspoken rivalry and hatred. 

Rather than trying to find the root of Luigi’s strange animosity toward you, you matched his academic attitude. Sometimes, you even spent full days hunched over your desk in your dorm rapidly correcting and tweaking code in Hello World to organize and understand each command and its result.

Coffee, eyebags, pain, tears, and suffering were poured into your day-to-day life. Many philosophers claim women's strongest motivation is love and determination; In your case, Gandhi had never been more wrong.

No, what propelled you forward in your academic prowess was nothing short of abhorrence and resentment. The bitter citric acid of his words burned the tip of your tongue, the thoughts that had once flowed so easily from off of the wet muscle stumbling and pausing from the sheer weight of his vitriol.

And the worst part of it was, you were all alone in this feeling. There was nobody else who seemed to believe or have witnessed these small moments of malice.

Lashing out and crying was never an option. You were grown now, according to American law, and your days of crying because someone was even slightly mean were over. That wouldn’t do you any good, and why bitch and moan when you can just violently better yourself?

You buried yourself so deep in your work, immersed in the realm of source code and computing. In the rare moments where you managed to break free from your computer, your surroundings morphed into strings of code…you even found yourself trying to type the language into the ATM at Chipotle just off campus.

Your brain was so wrinkled it rivaled a dried grape, your eyes nearly crossing over from how hard you had pushed yourself the entire semester. Academic weapon was a criminal understatement— you were more like a philosophical firearm.

What you felt was your only outlet for coping with your classmates' puzzling animosity towards you wasn’t necessarily hurting you, after all, it was making you smarter! Unbeknownst to you, some eyes began to catch on to the subtle charge between the pair of you.

Both your professors and peers alike had noticed the rising tension. When one outperformed the other, suddenly all the other party could do was study until they threw up. In fact, your roommate had dragged you from your desk about twenty times in the past month so you wouldn’t deprive your body of sunlight and nutrition.

“What’s been going on with you and Luigi?” Ruby asked, attacking her pizza with the gentle bite of an untamed puppy.

“Who? Oh, Luigi?” You murmured, tearing your gaze away from your computer. 

You didn’t look terrible, but you certainly didn’t look put together. Your hair was a frizzy mess, your eyes had grown accustomed to their lack of sleep, and your sweatpants were low enough on your hips that you were sure there would be a problem if they weren’t your size.

“He’s just… passive-aggressive, and it pisses me the fuck off. I feel like he’s just putting me down constantly and being so fucking nitpicky…” you sighed, your arms crossing over your chest as you leaned back in your chair.

“Really?” She murmured, her face fixing into a look of disbelief as she bit into an overly salted French fry. 

“And that’s the fucking problem! Nobody sees it but me and it’s driving me up a fucking WALL!” You groaned, your hands running over your face and pulling down your bottom eyelids and lashes in their trail.

“Well…he’s like, really really nice to literally everyone. I’ve never seen him not being of use to someone,” she explained, a pitying expression on her face as she mirrored your stance, crossing her arms and throwing her ankle over her knee. “Why’s he doing that to you, then?”

“I don’t know! He’s been like…on my dick since orientation,” you sighed. “Is it obvious that we don’t like each other?”

“I mean, dental knows, so…yeah,” she nodded. “It’s actually a very known fact…but everyone’s confused because both of you are like, really nice and you’re literally so alike, so.”

“Oh wow…” you hummed.

“Yeah…well good luck with that, girlie, but stop locking yourself in the dorm that shit is not healthy. Take a break, you need it…like really fucking bad,” She smiled, reaching over to hold your hand with contrastingly gentle affection.

“If I take a break that fucker will catch up to me…I need to stay on his neck until I die,” you rasped, a deep sigh emptying from your lungs before you stood up to leave for your dorm.

It just wasn’t fair. Your entire college experience seemed to be going wrong from the very beginning all because some stupid future frat boy decided he wanted to make your life difficult.

Hate was a strong word, and rivalry was another, but you felt very strongly about Luigi. He did too, but unfortunately for him, not in the way he thinks he does.

He was unsure at first, the hornets and sickness that stung and bruised his stomach when he laid eyes on you served as his first warning. Then, it was the agonizing heart palpitations that came from seeing you pay attention to him.

He wanted your eyes on him and him only; your beady black pupils to burn searing hot holes into his own. He wanted the fiery red embers of the flame he had cast upon you to open up and swallow him whole, condemning him for the plague of madness he had released upon your soul.

You made him so mad, so bitter and disgusted, so hot with envy that he wanted nothing more in the world than to just see you crumble beneath his hands in a fit of…tears. And so what, maybe it does stem from a place of insecurity, but he was grown enough to admit that he was the only perfect specimen!

Fire cannibalized his body from head to toe, burning and blazing the expanse of his skin, rivaling the scorching hot droplets of water that dribbled down his shoulders in the foggy shower. He hated you more than he had ever felt for anything before, but he couldn’t explain for the life of him why.

He had seen you stalk the streets of Penn’s campus in the passing weeks, and you looked more exhausted than you did anything else. Still, he wasn’t able to pull his attention off of you.

He had chalked it up to envy, green and scaled with fanged fury that bit him at the neck and fueled him full of venom, but he wasn’t able to deny the bubbly side effects of the initial bite that kept his heart a little fast. Or maybe he did, and he just refused to acknowledge it.

Regardless, he hated you. Your stupid small hands, your dumb gorgeous hair that you barely even changed anymore, your stupid fashion sense that was oh-so-true to your character…oh god—

Hatred is a strong force, but pleasure is another. He would never speak of what happened in the shower, but he’d bear the burden of his sin as soon as he finished.

When spring rolled around, her trail of warmth melted the icy roads and awakened the creepy crawlers from their deep slumber. Spring was a time for flowers to bloom and praises to be sung— and more importantly, break was just three months around the corner.

As you made your way into the levine hall for what felt like the millionth time this month, you were nowhere near surprised to see your professor absent with instructions displayed on the large projector board. Class project; develop a tool to identify potential vulnerabilities in computer networks. Due in two months. You will split up into the following groups.

Nikoletta Wiley

Hayden Stein

Rico O’Brien…

Luigi Mangione…

You.

Your fight-or-flight senses lurched in alarm, alarms and screams of rage echoing in your head as a deep and slow breath filed out from your lungs like a hasty bullet flying from its chamber. You could be cordial…you could be calm, you could be tame.

Could Luigi? You’d come to learn if that was the case soon enough.

You dispersed from the front of the room to go find each member of your group, starting with Rico and ending with Nikoletta. Finding Luigi was simple, you just didn’t wanna talk to him right now.

“Yeah I’ll make, like, a group chat and then we can talk about everything there,” Nikki beamed, you all standing huddled together with your phones out while quickly punching in each other’s numbers. 

It seemed everyone already had Luigi’s and didn't need to retrieve it from him, but Hayden still beckoned him over so you could fill in all the details and plan as a team. As soon as you felt him join, the energy seemed to shift as three sets of eyes burned searing holes into you and Luigi’s heads.

“How do we wanna do this then? Like, what program are we using? Cuz Billards has been using VS, but we can use Sublime, too, I think…did he say what we had to use, actually?” Hayden asked, peering over at the board once more to double-check the requirements.

“No, I think we should just—“ you began, powering your phone off and slipping it into your back pocket.

“Nah, we should just use VS. I think it’s the easiest, plus it’ll be much easier for some people.” Luigi smiled, completely ignoring the fact that he just spoke over you in favor of observing the nods from everyone else.

“I wasn’t finished, but sure, Luigi, we can use VS. It’ll be much easier for you, don’t worry,” you nodded with a contrastingly kind smile.

“I was thinking that it would definitely help you out more, but thank you for the advice,” he nodded with a smile just as kind as yours.

You chuckled, straining against the will of goddesses to not lash out at him in the middle of the lab. The icy exterior that coated his words disguised as warm concern had hit you just as hard as he intended them to, and it was even worse considering you were in front of all of your partners.

“No, I’m actually extremely talented with VS right now! I’ve been coding apps in my free time. I even have an app that lets you track your finances and predict stock market changes…I think I’m fine. What have you made this month?” You smiled, your eyes intensely focused on his as your chest subconsciously puffed out a little bit more.

For the first time in a little while, Luigi became slightly intimidated by you. He hadn’t done anything this month, and it was a grave error that would follow him to his grave and fatal embarrassment.

“I’m not working on any projects right now, actually…I heard you haven’t stopped working, though. That’s not good, maybe get some rest. You look like you need it…” he hummed, watching as your partners wordlessly exchanged slightly panicked glances.

“Guys, I think we should just use VS…” Nikki interrupted, placing a hand on your shoulder to calm you down.

The rest of the group nodded, adjusting their bags on their shoulders in an effort to self-soothe before Rico spoke up. “Yeah, it’s no problem…we can work on VS, and then we can all code together and fix any bugs we find in the process.”

Everything was over just as quickly as it began following Nikoletta’s excellent timed bucket to the budding forest fire. With that out of the way, you began to file out of the room to carry out your separate strings of life.

You’d reunite later at around seven at night via a discord call that featured nothing but silly side chatter and furious typing in a shared file. It was much too serious to your grades if you decided to start throwing jabs at each other— but whenever you or Luigi made even the smallest mistake, like missing a semicolon or even a typing error, your cursor would immediately fix the problem with the most passive-aggressive speed possible.

“That’s wrong…” Luigi murmured, his brows raising and dropping with haste as he highlighted a whole section of your code.

“No, it’s not…are you sure you’ve been coding recently? This is perfectly fine,” you sighed, glaring at your monitor’s camera briefly just to catch the eyes of a very irritated Mangione.

“Yes, all my life, actually! That’s wrong. When you put this in, it’s not gonna do anything, because you’re missing a bracket, and that’s the wrong function…I think you should drop this course,” he chuckled, shaking his head like you were being ridiculously stupid before rewriting your code for you.

He took immense and almost sickly sadistic pleasure in seeing your face scrunch a little and your brows pinch together. He was right under your skin, nestled between your nerves and kicking his feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum on the ground.

Good. Just like how he wants you to feel.

“I think you should shut the fuck up and stop being a dickhead…” you murmured, your hands now completely off your keyboard.

“I think we should all take a break!” Hayden beamed, immediately leaving the call after waving with a bright smile on his face.

“Yeah, he’s probably right…it’s like, one in the morning, and we have class tomorrow. I’ll see you guys in the morning,” Nikki yawned, exiting the call as well and shortly followed by a very laggy and loud goodbye from Rico, leaving you and Luigi alone in the files.

“No, like, actually, what the fuck is your problem? You’ve been on my dick since before we even met?” You groaned, saving all changes in the file so nothing would mysteriously delete itself later.

“You’re slowing us down! Like, everyone knows you’re not the smartest in this class! Some of us worked hard to be here, and if you’re just gonna fuck around—“ he began, leaning back in his all-black gamer chair and running his hands down his face, the expanse of his neck on full display.

“First of all, we never even had a proper conversation. I am trying my best! If you feel like I’m such a burden, then join another fucking group!” You huffed, throwing your arms out to the side in defense. “You literally gave me shit the first day we met, and all you fucking do, is belittle me, and—…and make me feel like I’m not good enough…”

Your voice wobbled, its usual sturdy and focused tone lacking its regular discipline as you came completely apart in your dorm room. How fucking embarrassing…

“And I’ve felt like shit, and I haven’t been getting proper sleep, and fuck you! You’re so nice to everyone but me! Literally, what did I do to deserve this?” You warbled, rubbing your waterline with the knuckles on your pointer finger.

It was like you couldn’t get it to stop. He had popped the cork, and now all the bottled-up insecurity and sleep deprivation came pouring out like shower water, and he had no idea how the dial worked.

In that moment, the weight of his actions finally hit him. The woman on the other side of the screen was in tears, all because he didn’t know how to cope with the fact that there were other smart people in his environment.

Poor, sweet thing…a lamb too close to the frenzied blade of the executioner, forever stuck with the inner turmoil that stems from unrest. Maybe if he indulged the flames, jostling the hot coal with his bare hands and made amends before your altar he’d no longer be bound to the eternal suffering from the merciless and bloodied hands of Aphrodite.

He didn’t mean for it to get this far. After seeing your tired and shaky form sob and whine on screen, he suddenly didn’t have the same drive to compete anymore.  

Love and hate are two sides of the same coin— and Luigi now understood that he was never really threatened by you in the first place he was heads over tails in love with you. Even though he didn’t want to admit it and wasn’t going to admit it, Luigi understood the consequences of being a jackass after the smoke from the machine cleared.

“I’m not doing this, no,” you sighed, ending the call immediately and ejecting Luigi from the file.

Ouch.

Following the storm of emotions that raged between the both of you, the heavy silence of guilt filled his dorm room.

“Dude, you’re a fuckin’ dick…” Luigi’s roommate, Logan, murmured from his half-conscious slumber in his bed.

“Shut the fuck up,” he groaned, his hands carding through his hair as he took a deep breath.

In with renewal and purity, out with grudge and taint. This was going to be the longest, most shameful two months of his life.

And long was an understatement— the painful stretch from early February to late March was just as terrible as he imagined. Now you wouldn’t talk to him, or even give him a second glance when your group congregated to work on your project.

By now it was well within its development, and the app was able to identify potential security threats and offer solutions to whoever wanted to keep their information within a concentrated network. As much as it pained his ego to say it, the constant studying he had forced you into paid off entirely. 

After he had corrected your code once, he was never able to do it again. There were no more passive-aggressive changes, no silly side conversations, and much less any interaction outside of your group.

You made yourself completely unavailable to him, even going as far as moving farther away from him when it was a lecture day. You had no reason to cross paths, and that’s exactly how you wanted it.

So you can imagine your surprise when you holed yourself up in a corner, typing away like normal before you heard the familiar foot pattern of a certain Italian man approaching. You stilled the anger and hurt bubbling over in the glass pot that certainly wasn’t meant to be on the stove.

“What,” you stated, not tearing your eyes away from your work.

“I just wanted to say that I’m…really sorry for how I treated you earlier. I had a lot going on that I’m still trying to address, and it was really…really wrong of me. If I’m being honest your grades are probably better than mine, and I just felt threatened by your intelligence,” he explained, holding a little blueberry muffin and a baby-blue crystal as a peace offering that he slowly slid toward you.

“My roommate told me girls like crystals…this is untumbled blue topaz…” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact by all means necessary before he pulled out an extremely large chunk of what you recognized as Rose quartz from his little tan canvas bag. “I picked out this one cuz I didn’t know if you liked blue topaz.”

You stared in disbelief, the casual implication of the crystals he gave you was enough to almost make you laugh, considering he gave you the stone that’s symbolic of uncovering lies and the stone of love. How fitting.

“How much was that…?” You asked, sizing up the fat pillar of pink that surpassed the circumference of your hand. “You’ve been carrying that all day?”

He nodded, a light pink dusting his cheeks as he found himself suddenly interested in the window next to you. He felt like you were prying him apart for the first time, and he didn’t like it…it felt like losing his virginity somehow.

“It was a hundred dollars…” he mumbled, his voice barely audible as a hand came to the back of his neck.

“A hundred dollars!?” You repeated, your brows pinching together as you stared at the madman in front of you.

He nodded again, this time a small ghost of a smile pulled at the ends of his lips as the steady red began to creep up to his nose. 

“I didn’t really know what else to get you…I don’t know you that well” He blushed, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“Oh…uhm…thank you?” You murmured, more of a skeptical question than genuine gratitude. After almost six months of torment and competition, you weren’t entirely ready to forgive or forget. “I don’t really know what to say.”

You stared at the cute little offerings, pondering if his apology was genuine…he seemed slightly on edge. After all, he was rocking back and forth on the tips of his toes, his teeth nervously chewed on his bottom lip, and if his face was any redder he’d be competing with many women’s blush routines.

“I accept your apology, but I don't forgive you. That was really cruel, Luigi. Like, we literally could’ve been best friends. But thank you, for the things,” you nodded, watching as he mirrored your nod as well.

“Yeah, I get that, and I’m just really sorry…you don’t have to forgive me, I know that trust comes with time,” he nodded, giving you a rather cute awkward smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow..? I think?” He added, tilting his head to the side in thought.

“Sure…I’ll see you” you nodded.

And just like that, he was off again. 

Now that he wasn’t spitting hatred and torment at you, you were able to conceptualize just how attractive he was…his chiseled nose, sharp jaw, and gorgeously high cheekbones added a blow tint of masculinity to his boyish face. Both adorable and sexy— a rare combination that was scarce these days.

Now that you were prepared to deal with him again, you thought it wouldn’t hurt to talk to him if he spoke to you. Usually, when he did, you’d end up having short conversations about code or crystals, a small spark of a bond being built from the debris of the fire that had scorned the two of you before.

You came to learn that he was a kind man with a special interest in Pokémon, and he had recently rushed into the “virginity rocks” frat of Penn, Phi Kappa Psi. It seemed fitting, besides the fact that he began to grow into somewhat burlier as he spent more time in the gym.

Now you were in the lab after hours, helping Nikki wrap up with a little robot designed to detect and pick up trash in a small environment. Somewhere in the distance, you saw Luigi tinkering with the 3D printer, printing out pieces for his plans and mini Pokémon in between.

“Alright, I’m gonna go home…I’m hungry as shit and my man is probably stuck in his dorm alone right now,” Nikki sighed, packing her bag and reorganizing her station before giving you a tight squeeze and a wave. 

The wind whistled against the windows, rattling every loose pane of glass as the gentle pitter-patter of rain pressed against the casements while you scrolled on your phone absentmindedly. That was until Luigi approached you with a mini-printed figure of Jigglypuff and a stupid smile.

“I made this in like…four hours,” he chuckled, placing the pink figurine on your table for you to inspect.

“Oh, that’s so cute…” you murmured, pinching it between your finger and thumb and running your eyes over the little details printed on its plastic. “Where are you gonna put it? Your shelf?”

“Nah, I was gonna just give it to you. My shelf is literally so full,” he smirked, watching as you rolled the pink Pokemon between your fingers.

“If only you had a desk,” you sighed, a sarcastic but amused smile creeping up on your face against your will.

“If only there were a pretty woman to alleviate me of my creative burden…” he sighed, pretending to be a woman in distress clutching her imaginary pearls with a limp wrist on her forehead.

“Pretty?” You hummed, tucking the cute figure in the shallow back pocket of your high-rise denim.

“Is complimenting you off limits, too?” He challenged, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his hip against the side of the desk you were sitting at.

“No, it’s just unexpected…” you chuckled, pinching your brows together slightly as a smug expression overtook your features, piloting the steady rise of heat that boiled at the apples of your cheeks.

“Why? I’m sure you hear it all the time,” he hummed.

“From men? No, they don’t voice their affections” you shrugged, propping the back of your heel up on the white table.

“Stop it, don’t do that, fuckin’ vandal,” he chuckled, immediately grabbing your ankle and gently moving it off the table, opting to just hold it for you instead.

The silence was heavy, bated breaths and mixed signals mingling with the cold air of the room as you stared up at him with a playfully defiant scowl. He smirked, the right side of his teeth flashing at you briefly as he tilted his head to the side.

“What?” You asked, gazing up at him through his lashes.

He didn't respond, only cutting his eyes at you briefly before chuckling deep in his chest.

“Nothing. C’mon, let me walk you home, it’s pouring,” He offered, dropping your ankle with careful abandon before pulling the drawstrings of his hoodie taut around his neck.

“I can walk perfectly fine on my own,” you shot back, gathering your things regardless of what had spilled from your mouth.

“I know you can, but let me do it with you. It’s raining, you have no umbrella, and it's getting dark. I don’t care what beef we had, you’re not walking home alone,” He murmured, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and guiding you out of the Levine hall.

“Okay, Hero Time…” you scoffed with a light chuckle.

“Is that a Ben Ten reference?” He asked, turning his head to face you after holding the door so you could pass through.

“Maybe.”

“You like Ben Ten?”

“I watch it sometimes.”

“Huh…You’re a lot cooler than I thought. We’ll talk about that later,” he nodded, keeping you firmly against his side as you trekked and trudged through the heavy rainfall together.

“Will we?” You asked, raising a smug brow at him as you began to direct him across the wet pavement.

“Maybe. Who knows if we’ll talk at all later” he mused, the sneaky double entendre rolling off of his tongue like hot water from an overheated kettle, the scorching fire causing it to bubble over with heat.

“Interesting…define talk?” You asked, an innocent chirp in your tone.

He didn’t answer, only chuckled under his breath as he made his way into the college house. The difference between the chilly spring rain and the warm comforting heat was stark, immediately engulfing you in a sudden burst of gentle kisses of comfort.

“What I mean is…” he began, pressing the button for the elevator with his knuckle as he waited in front of the heavy metal doors. “If you let me, I’ll show you how sorry I am versus tell you.”

“Oh, you’re forward,” you chuckled, your right hand gently trailing down the veins that rested just underneath his olive-toned skin. “Don’t tell me you acted an ass because you wanted to fuck me…”

“No, never!” He gasped, placing a hand over his heart in exaggerated scandalization. “I acted an ass because I had identity issues, and didn’t know how to talk to pretty women.”

“Funny, I recall hearing you were everyone’s favorite on campus,” you hummed, your hand sliding down to his and taking two of his larger fingers in a closed fist.

The elevator dinged, the doors opening up to reveal the hospital-esque elevator, illuminated by its bright white fluorescent lights and the gentle glow of the red floor number on the opposite wall.

“Duh, I’m great,” he joked, a sassy little grin on his face as you pressed for floor number four. “I didn’t struggle to talk to anyone cuz nobody’s as pretty as you.”

“Oh wow,” you purred, your fist enclosing around his ring and middle finger a little tighter, giving them an experimental tug that would mimic the motion of a handjob.

“Oh wow indeed…” he mirrored, his eyes slowly trailing down to your half-intertwined hands, watching as you pumped his two fingers.

“I wish you weren’t so mean to me earlier, we could’ve been the best of friends…” you sighed, now leading the way to your dorm room after releasing his fingers from your selfish hold.

“Now we both know that’s a lie,” he murmured, following you over to your dorm room like a lost puppy trailing after their owners' calves.

You slid your little keycard over the keycard entry system attached to your door, waiting for the green light to flash and flicker before pushing the door open by the silver handle.

“Is it? We’re very similar,” you hummed, letting him waltz into your dorm room like he could rip the title from thin air and declare ownership.

“That’s the problem, there's no way we’d just be friends…” he chuckled, watching you place your keys on your desk and shuffle into the bathroom with a new shirt and dry pants in hand.

“That’s a bold statement…” you chuckled, kicking off your shoes and throwing on your dry clothes before emerging from the bathroom. “I don’t know, you’re a dick…I don’t think we would’ve been that close.”

“C’mon, I said I was sorry,” he sighed, his hands in his pockets as you stepped up to him, leaning your chin on his chest and peering through his soul.

“Yeah, but you don’t seem sorry…” you snickered, letting his hands come down to your waist as his brows furrowed together slightly.

“You want me to show you?” He purred, lifting you by your hips.

He let you dangle just above the ground, smirking like a smart Alec at the way he knew how easy it would be to toss you around if it was this easy for him to lift you. Watching you place your hands on his forearms in a slightly panicked attempt to steady yourself was adorable.

“Luigi, please.” You squeaked, unsure of whether you wanted him to put you down or devour you whole in your very own room.

“Nah, that’s not enough,” he hummed, his head tilting to the side with an amused snarl. “What are you asking for? Matter of fact, where’s that attitude?”

You chuckled, immediately tapping into this little power-play dynamic that broiled in front of your very eyes. 

“I’m sure you’re not sorry, actually…I'm sure you do this to all the women you talk to,” you giggled, watching as his brows shot up with a faux-shocked and slightly offended affection.

“Oh wow, okay, so you need that actually…That’s a’ight, I’ll show you how sorry I am,” He purred, tossing you over onto your bed with a boyish chuckle as you bounced off the mattress with the weight of gravity.

Your bed was soft and comforting, the familiar gentle sheets folding and creasing under your elbows as you propped your upper body up to watch the downright predatory glint in Luigi’s eyes as he took his shirt off. The impurities in his normally angelic aura shimmered in the dim lighting of your dorm room, the black iron bits of his soul reflecting the sterling silver desires that shielded yours.

“I’m sorry,” he smiled, wasting no time in climbing over top of you, slotting his leg between your thighs as he peppered your face with kisses and apologies.

You whined, the pressure his kneecap applied to your achy cunt through the restrictive fabric of your sweats, eliciting sinful sounds of seductive shudders underneath Luigi.

“I’m so sorry, pretty,” he breathed, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants and pressing chaste kisses down your neck trailing to your navel.

“That was very wrong of me, I'm sorry,” he pouted, pulling your sweatpants down to your mid-thigh to press his fiery kisses to the hem of your panties.

“I should have never let my emotions and pride get in the way of such a beautiful lady,” he continued, his teeth pulling your panties down your thighs just so his mouth could attach to your glistening cunt.

Your eyes snapped shut, too embarrassed to hold his heated gaze as his tongue explored your folds with hunger. You were lost in the sensations, waves of pleasure blocking your vision as the sounds of sin echoed across the four walls— until a loud pop interrupted, along with a sharp sting on the side of your thigh.

“I’m apologizing to you, it’s rude to not look at me…you wanted this apology and you’re gonna take it like a grown woman,” he ordered, cutting his eyes at you before his hand came to soothe the pain on your skin.

You whined, fluttering your eyes open to meet his as the heat of shame and ecstasy caught up to your face.

“That’s better,” he hummed, his tongue resuming its relentless attack on your folds, his wet and pink tongue working itself near exhaustion as he coaxed you into two shaky orgasms.

“I’m sorry, I hope you can forgive me someday,” he pleaded, his little pout flashing you his apologetic glare as he kissed all over your stomach and womb.

“F—forgive! I forgive you—!” You choked out, your senses feeling all tingly and sensitive as you pushed his head away from your body weakly.

“No, no, I insist…I don’t feel sorry enough, you can take more.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: in the land of delulu.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You excuse yourself for a hot bath. You didn't have the luxury in your apartment. You may as well enjoy what you can as the seconds tick down until your eternal purgatory. 

You breathe in the steam and let it soothe you. As much as it can. You don't think you've truly relaxed since the smoke filled your apartment. Oh, yeah, that's right, this man pulled out army tactics just to get you here. Just when you convince yourself he's not that loony, you remember another twisted facet of this whole ordeal. 

No matter how many times you retrace your steps, how many memories you unravel and search, you can't figure out where he came from, or how you managed to catch his attention. You are unremarkable but he talks like you're some sort of goddess. Not too mention, he seems to believe he knows you somehow. That you are soulmates in some ridiculously serendipitous way. There's nothing meant to be about this. You never meant to be with anyone. 

The water turns lukewarm and you stir. You might as well get out. You're not going to get much out of it aside from the pruned skin. You dry off and wrap yourself in one of the fluffy robes hung in wait. You stop to stare at yourself in the mirror. 

What else can you do to change his mind? You ate like an animal, you vomited like an overfed cat, and you've done everything to make yourself unapproachable to the general public, not just him. It's like this is a game to him but you're not having fun. 

You come out into the hotel room. The smell of lavender and aloe gives you pause. The lights are dimmed. Oh jeez. You cross your arms as the soft Hawaiian sunset glows through the large glass doors. Flickering candlelight pulses all around you and rose petals decorate the floor and bed. 

"Please, I just want to sleep--" 

"Jellybean, good boy Lloyd is gonna help you do just that," he purrs as he appears. "I'm gonna give you a nice massage. I know you don't like strangers touching you and all that so I'm going to do it all on my own--" 

"What? No. No. I'm going to sleep..." you trail off as you see what he's wearing. Next to nothing. Just a tight red thong that barely contains his very obvious excitement. 

"Take off your robe, bean, and let the magic hands do their work," he reaches for you and you dodge him. 

"Lloyd, it's... we're not even married. Shouldn't you wait until tomorrow night-" 

"Tomorrow? The wedding night? Beanie boo, I don't think you realise everything I'm saving for that. The way I'm gonna pamper you," he spreads his hands flat in the air and nuzzles the air lewdly then flicks his tongue slowly up and down. 

"God," you whisper and clutch tight the front of your robe. "I said... you said we'd wait--" 

"It's all above board. I can have a feel of the goods but I'm not gonna untie the ribbon. Promise," he puts his hand to his chest. "Hey, if it makes you feel better, I can take these off-" 

He hooks his thumbs in the sides of the thong and you shake your head furiously, "no, no, don't-- don't do that." 

"I'm not shy, baby." He winks. 

"Lloyd, please. I'm tired. I... I've never flown before--" 

"Will you keep saying my name, bean? You make it sound so nice." 

You blink and hold back your revolt. You keep telling yourself you just need to get through this one thing but why? You're not getting out of this. He's taken you out of your apartment, out of the city, out of state. You're pretty sure there's nowhere left to run and he's shown you what happens if you try to hide. 

"Come on, I'll be gentle. I just want you to feel good. Get nice and loose for the wedding," he steps closer and grabs the belt of your robe. "My little jelly bean--" He pauses and blinks down at you. "Am I talking to much again? Let my hands do the talking, huh?" 

He winks and licks his lips. You want to melt and not in a good way. He tugs loose your belt and you barely keep the robe from falling open completely. He purrs and grabs your hands. You wrestle with him, defeated as he wrenches apart the fabric. 

"Damn, bean, I mean... it just gets sweeter every time I see it," he wiggles excitedly. 

You put your hands on his but he’s much too strong to deter. His eyes flick up from your body and he grins. He licks his lips. 

“I already know you’re just as delicious as you look,” he snarls. “Come on, bean.” He walks you backwards until you’re by the bed. “You get yourself nice and naked and spread eagle.” 

He pushes you, just hard enough that you fall onto the mattress. Your chest jiggles as you land and he purrs again. You plant the heels of your hands on the bed and drag yourself up. He goes to the night stand and grabs the shiny bottle of massage oil. 

You don’t have much of a choice but the easiest one is to go along with this. He says it’s just a massage. You know better than to trust the man who stalked you, who terrified you, then stole you away, but you don’t have much defense against him. Nothing but your submission. 

You slip free of the robe then turn onto your stomach. He tugs away the cotton and lets it heap on the floor. He climbs up on the bed, jostling you as he crosses the mattress on his knees. He oils up his palms and you quickly turn you face down into the pillows. 

He straddles your ass and you tense. He grabs your shoulders and rolls the muscles between his thumb and fingers. He tuts, “baby, you need to chill out. Let your good boy help you out.” 

He pushes his thumbs into your flesh and angles his hands to drag his knuckles down your back. The ridges of his hands drag along either side of your spine and he traces with his thumbs pressed firmly into the muscle. You can’t resist the moan that rises between your lips and catches in the pillow case. 

He pushes back up and once more kneads your shoulders. You quiver and squeeze your eyes shut. It’s overwhelming to be touched. At all. More unnerving that you don’t hate it. 

You avoid people, just as much, you avoid any contact. You like your space, your quiet, and this man has violated both. He runs his touch down your sides and the warmth of him seeps into you. He takes your left arm and begins tedious and tender work of the entire length. Your fingers curl and your hand twitches. 

You groan and he wiggles against you. His crotch is pressed into you without shame. You hardly notice as you fight the rising tide of delight flowing through you. No, why does it feel good? 

He gets to your other arm as the tension slowly uncoils. You never realised how much there was and he’s finding every nook and cranny. He works his way over your back once more. You quiver and moan long and loud. 

“That’s it, jelly bean,” he growls and once more grinds against your ass. “Like putty in my hands. 

He moves down your legs and pushes a knee between them. He parts your thighs and knees on the bed. He brushes his thumbs along the curve of your ass and hums. He bends and you clench your cheeks. He clucks, “now, now, be a good girl. I said I’d behave, bean.” 

He rubs your ass in his large hands. He leans in and kisses each cheek. You squirm but he doesn’t let up. He flutters his fingers along the insides of your thighs. You shiver and he puts more pressure into it. He teases and tends to you. 

You bring your arm up to grip the billow and arch your back. He flicks his finger along your cunt and you pop your head up. He snickers. 

“I said relax. I can’t have my wife tied in knots... I’m supposed to tie her in knots,” he taunts. 

He brings himself to straddle you again. He shifts over you and pushes your thighs closed with his. He grips your hips and massages them tightly. He pulls a hand back as he moves behind you. 

He rests his dick between your cheeks as he pins you down by your waist. You spasm but can’t push yourself up. He has you trapped as he slowly thrusts up and down, gliding along your flesh. 

“Lloyd, you said--” 

“Don’t worry. I won’t go inside,” he grits as he keeps his careful tempo. “Mmm, baby, how can you expect me to resist this ass. Urgh, it’s so nice.” 

He brings his hand down to push your cheeks together as he fucks between them. Mortified, you squeak and hide your face. You reach back with one hand and push on his forearm. There’s no stopping him and this is just a preview of the next night. 

Your hand falls away at the thought. You can’t stop him. You won’t. No matter how you fight. You tried that and he won. The moment he got you out of your apartment, it was over. 

The bed rocks with him. He builds his speed, little by little. His deep voice fills the hotel room as he kneads your ass. He pumps between them and snarls. He squeezes until your eyes water. 

You twist your neck and swat at him, “Lloyd, you’re hurting---” 

He lets go of once side of your rear and shoves your head down. He ruts wildly as he crushes your skull into the pillow and bounces you on the mattress. A sudden warmth spills into the small of your back and spurts further up your spine. He hisses and quakes, losing his rhythm as he leans his weight onto you. 

You grasp his wrist and whine, “ow, Lloyd--” 

He retracts from you and flips to fall beside you. You keep your face down, your eyes stinging with tears. You’re scared. You can’t remember the last time you weren’t, but that’s all the proof you need. Lloyd can say all these sweet things, make all his promises, but you know in the end, you can’t control him. He can barely control himself. 

“Jellybean,” he tickles your hip as his cum cools on your skin. “You’re so amazing--” 

You shimmy away from him without looking back. You can’t lay there any longer. You nearly fall off the bed. You stagger away from the bed. You need to get away from him and more, you need to get that stuff off of you. 

You burst into the bathroom and crank on the sink. You grab a washcloth and wet it. You wipe away the stickiness along your hips but you can’t reach higher.  

Lloyd’s shadow appears in the door frame. You ignore him as you rinse the cloth and try again. He comes to you and takes a clean one. “Let me help--” 

“No, I’m fine,” you snip. 

“Jellybean, I know it’s been a long day--” 

“You know? You don’t know,” you sneer and tear away from him. 

“Baby--” 

“I bathed and you—you--” 

“I made a mess,” he giggles. 

You face him and shake your head. What is wrong with him? This isn’t funny. 

“I couldn’t help myself,” he runs his hand down his naked torso. “It’s just what you do to me. I’m...” he stops and looks down as his dick twitches. “I’m getting hard again just think of it. Au naturel, baby. No enhancers needed.” He growls and drags the washcloth around his shaft. “Little blue pill got nothing on you.” 

He wipes himself then wads up the wet cloth and hurls it in the sink. “Alright, then. Longing makes the heart, and the balls, grow fonder, huh?” He offers his hand and smirks, “let’s go to bed.” 

You stare at him. Unmoving. He shows his palms. 

“Sleeping only. Well, maybe a few snuggles,” he says. “But I promise, I’ll abstain. Just for a little longer.” 

[acexsmhking]

hello!! Can you write a headcanons/oneshot post of (separate) ticci toby, eyeless jack, and/or jane the killer dating a piercing obsessed! Reader? Ppl always say lots of piercings r unattractive :(( but omgg i love ppl with lots of piercings, theyre so lovely! Thank youu:D

𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞

(𝗻.) 𝗔 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗼𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

: ̗̀➛ Piercing!Reader x Shared Headcanons

(Toby, Jack, Jane)

Summary: GN!Reader with love for piercings/having multiple being in a relationship with Toby, Jack and Jane. How would they react?

Warning(s): None! Mostly just fluff, FEM & TRANSF in mind for Jane

・❥・ Toby

First of all, Toby himself is covered in a lot of facial piercings so he is not one to judge! He loves piercings, especially on himself (egotistical asshole knows how sexy he is), so if you love them just as much him, he immediately just yaps with you

Do not trust him to give you one.

Now if you really like piercings but hate needles? He definitely bullies you about it some but understands. Since he can’t feel pain he can feel a lot of the pressures/intrusions that the pain usually covers up and it can weird him out

He plays with your piercings like a lot. Mostly nervous fidgeting type things

OMG DO YOU HAVE TO STAY ONTOP OF HIM IF HE GETS A NEW ONE, he is so bad at taking care of them himself but he’s so good about taking care of yours. Little weirdo

Now, Toby can be mean during fights so sometimes if he’s close enough he’ll twist one. Petty little shit. But he is quick to apologize, he just likes winning arguments

・❥・Jack

Jack like.. literally cannot see. So he genuinely just thinks your piercings are apart of you. Like he really doesn’t remember things of humans and so he completely forgot about minuscule things like piercings

He does like licking them tho, that nice metal taste

Weirdo.

Once you actually explain it he’s a little perplexed. Since he’s an apex predator usually they associate things like anything piercing you as hindrance to hunts

But whatever makes you happy!

Since Jack does live in a lot of holes/caves you probably are gonna wanna let your piercings heal a lot or just clean them a lot more so the dust and dirt doesn’t infect/irritate them

If you wanna give Jack piercings well.. it’s gonna have to be like a really protected spot. He’s running around and climbing lots of trees not to mention how many people actually do try fighting a 6’10 demon..creature…thingy. So you don’t want him getting hurt

That and his healing factor literally is just too good at its job. Damn powers. But hey you can get those little fake ones! He’ll try to keep them on but…

・❥・Jane

Again! She doesn’t judge. She thinks they’re pretty cool, now she can’t have any cause.. well.. she’s a little crispy but! She will wear matching fake ones with you

Definitely best person to get a nice piercing with as she helps you clean and stay on top of them

She bought you a little machine thingy to clean them for you<3

She does actually have her ears pierced but she can’t wear them for long any more :(

She is also stupidly good at finding missing earrings, piercings and jewelry like omg. Like I mean fucking assassin’s creed eagle vision type shit

She’s good in general at findings things really

Omg does she love kissing your piercings <3 she especially likes nose piercings, JANE IS A NOSE KISSER IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS

my romantical wife<3

She will buy rings and necklaces to match your piercings too! She’s pierced with you in spirit ya know

: ̗̀➛ hehe i loved this. I gotta write Jane and the others their own general headcanons soon, I’m just lazy. Also tell me why Chapter 3 is not plotting how I want it too like come on brain work, anyways I loved this little ask! I have got to start writing more of other characters too I have like… 18 drafts of all sorts of shit. Impulsive writing — Ace

[velvetwyrme]

i beg (bug) of thee . .. more borrower au pleaze.

now you might be wanting more of the existing dynamic/s ive mentioned but @dubia-015 asked me about the other character concepts i hd in mind yesterday and then i sat down and went AHHHHHH into the void and it rewarded me with even more thoughts

yapping under the cut

please consider Ratchet thinking that the tiny person he helped out when he was still in medical school was a fever dream (too much coffee, not enough sleep). Only to get blindsided when a different tiny person shows up one day, loud and obnoxious but clearly worried about his friend who is injured, begging for Ratchet's help. And well, Ratchet doesn't know what to with the fact that Drift is REAL, but he DOES know what to do if someones bleeding out.

Or the flipside of that, Drift returning to his old house that he nearly died in, and finding out that the tiny man who helped him during that time is REAL and not a drug induced hallucination. If you want to get extra tasty with it, Drift almost stabs Ratchet, the blade THUNKING down in front of the borrower as Drift glares down at him. He wasn't even been looking, he just knew Ratchet was there. But as soon as Drift sees him his eyes widen and soften, as recognition finds him and he whispers... "Ratch?"

(I imagine he IMMEDIATELY panics and pulls the blade out because OH GOD HE NEARLY KILLED RATCHET) and can you tell i really want to draw this but also i really dont want to draw People.

And some other concepts!!

Borrower Brainstorm trying to one up human Perceptor while also trying to not be caught. He wants to be NOTICED and RECOGNIZED but he's meant to keep hidden but Perceptor is so brilliant he NEEDS to prove himself.

Human Whirl and his two tiny partners who he tries to scare off,,, or alternatively, Tailgate and Cyclonus and the borrower that they're luring into their home like a stray cat.

Borrower Skids pining fruitlessly over human Nautica!! Roommateless Swerve having a little borrower buddy in his walls who listens to him ramble. I can't decide who but my silly rarepair brain immediately went ULTRA MAGNUS because i have a soft spot for Swagnus hdjdhdjfbjd

And of course you can't forget tired veteran OP who has been passing messages with a mysterious stranger in the library who writes the most beautiful poetry and has a fresh new perspective on life, albeit one that is jaded, hardened by a life of being underfoot, downtrodden and struggling to survive day to do,,,,, like. Ghhhrghg.

im gonna fucking explode so you also get more thoughts abt the various versions ft the Constructicons, J/P and SW

Also if you go borrower!Soundwave and Prowl (Human Constructicons+Jazz) then you get the two of them working together somewhat begrudgingly at first- they have a working respect for each other that gives way to mutual appreciation for each other's logical prowess and intelligence, things that are required when trying to navigate a house filled w/ 5 rowdy guys. In that same version you have Rumble, Frenzy and their like. 8 dads. Since they're human, it's easier for the other humans to wrangle them but Soundwave and Prowl are the real powerhouses there who keep everyone in line.

In the one where the Constructicons are menacing J/P, they all slowly befriend Jazz first, who stays well out of the way of Prowl's investigations- he could tell him, but... this is the most fun he's seen Prowl have in a long time and it looks good on him. Also getting doted on by the pack of borrowers is a nice perk.

i literally cannot create fast enough to keep up w this. Also logically if I did anything I'd. probably cut down the amt of characters so I don't have to deak w/ as many interconnecting pieces but IN MY HEART OF HEARTS THIS IS THE DREAM

[herrscherofmagic]

I'd like to add to this, though it's a bit tangential — there's also some pretty fundamental skills that exist in both STEM and humanities, and being able to make the connections between how they exist in these separate fields can really help your comprehension in either or both categories.

I'll have to apologize in advance because this post got way, way longer than I intended, and it's a fair bit messy and all over the place. But I do try and tie it back in to this original post, even if it takes a hot minute to get there >.>

.

I'm no longer in STEM at the moment but I did take a handy amount of both STEM and humanities courses, and ultimately chose the humanities route. Despite focusing on the humanities, there's definitely some STEM ideas that I found really useful in life, and by far the #1 has probably been the idea of abstraction.

For instance, when you say "abstract" there's a lot of things that can come to mind, with a common example being abstract art, right? Everyone knows the "crappy modern art" that's "overvalued" and "nonsensical" and whatnot. The funny-lookin' paint splatters on a canvas, or the giant blocks of solid color. That sort of thing.

Well, the word "abstract" is meant to represent the idea of something which exists separately from the real world. In contrast, the real stuff is described as being "concrete". The thing is that there's a spectrum of this stuff, with some things being more concrete but still a little abstract, and vice-versa.

Turns out that this is a REALLY important idea in computer science. Because computer chips work with 1s and 0s, and our silly primate brains ain't optimized to add a bajillion 1s and 0s. So instead, we use abstraction to describe collections of operations with these 1s and 0s: from the fundamental machine code that's binary operations only, to the "assembly language" that bridges the gap between binary numbers and human-readable characters, then to the higher-level programming languages.

We use highly-abstracted programming languages and write code like "a + b = c" but that has to be translated down into a more concrete code, the assembly language, and then that gets translated even further into the actual *real* operations happening on the transistors, the 1s and 0s.

And within a programming language we also use abstraction, such as in Java, an object-oriented programming language. You might take a block of code that has many different uses and describe it in a simple form as a class, then extend subclasses and give more concrete and specific definitions to that superclass.

A common and easy-to-understand example of this is Minecraft, with it's mobs, programmed in Java. There's a lot of things called "mobs", which are mobile entities that move themselves around and can interact with the player (and which the player can interact with). But some are aggressive, some are netural, some are passive— so how do you code all these different types of mobs?

What you can do is create an "abstract" class (not necessarily a literal "abstract class") for "mobs" in general, defining the most fundamental and simple traits (health bars, movement, dimensions, etc.) and then extend that class into specific examples. You might create a subclass for the "Passive mobs" that defines how they react to being hit by a player, with their frantic running around.

But then the "Hostile mobs" subclass has a separate and unique bit of code to describe how these mobs deal more damage. And then you can extend the "Hostile mobs" subclass into a "Skeleton" subclass to define ranged attacks that other mobs don't have, and so on.

You can work with varying levels of abstraction in your code, in order to meet different needs. By working at high levels of abstract you define wide and simple principles readily understood with less effort, and which can be more widely applied, and then begin to narrow down the code into more detailed sections for specific circumstances.

It turns out... that's EXACTLY how abstraction works in art. All the stuff you see in art exists on a spectrum from "abstract" to "concrete" and artworks are often made at some point on that spectrum to serve a specific purpose.

For example, you might want to visually depict a bird. On the most concrete level you have the human eye's vision of a bird, though even that is subjective: it's based on the physical health of one's eyesight, and the cultural expectations of what a "bird" is.

Then you have the photograph, which is still nearly exact concrete (hence "photorealistic") but still not 100% there. Then you have photorealistic art, and realistic, and then you go more and more abstract. You might move towards impressionistic art and pointillism, and then surreal art, and eventually you might arrive near total abstraction.

For instance, take this lovely photo of a Florida Scrub Jay (a very, very specific type of bird). This would be a rather concrete representation of a bird, and not just any bird but a particular species. Not a robin or raven or raptor, but a Florida Scrub Jay and nothing else!

(Photo from Wikimedia Commons)

Since that is a photo, it's pretty concrete to begin with. So to make it more abstract... I'll draw a quick study of it!

It's dirty and messy but gets the job done, I'm not making a 3-hour painted study for a tumblr post about STEM and humanities (and apparently birds, now). This took like... idk half an hour, 45 minutes? 15 minutes? I forgot to keep count and i've already put in like one and a half hours towards making this post by this point...

The drawing is still quite recognizable as being a Florida Scurb Jay, despite how messy it is, and you can also see the resemblance with the reference photo. It's farm from photorealistic, but it still has a strong level of concrete representation to it. It's far from true abstract art.

We can simplify things further, though, still staying representational but inching just a weeeee bit closer to the abstract:

First we do away with the background, stick with some simply bold lines, and use big broad shapes with solid color. Then we simplify it even more, using only a few lines to indicate major forms, and using just four colors. No tree branch either. You can still recognize it as a Florida Scrub Jay though... right?

BUT WAIT! Another competitor has entered the ring! in the corner with the steel chair, it's...

the Blue Jay?!

(Once more, photo from Wikimedia Commons)

Turns out, we've abstracted far enough away from the original photo reference, that now our bird doodle seems to resemble BOTH the Florida Scrub Jay (Aphelocoma coerulescens) and this lovely Blue Jay (Cyanocitta cristata).

After all, both are birds which are white and blue, and have a roughly similar body proportion. The tails and wing feathers are both blue, and the heads both have blue. Most of the differentiation comes from details, like the rings of black on the Blue Jay's tail, or the white tuft of feathers atop the Florida Scrub Jay's head.

Well, guess what, folks? We can abstract even further!

First, let's do away with all those pesky colors. We only need the one blue, right? After all, both the Florida Scrub Jay and the Blue Jay can be called "blue birds" so why do we need white or gray?

But that's not a very attractive blue, is it? So... maybe we brighten it up a bit?

Aha! Now we're talking. But this pose is a bit... meh. Now that we've abstracted away so much detail, you can hardly tell it's a bird! especially with the wing tucked in and the tail overlapped with the leg.

Maybe we can just flip up the wing and tail? And let's open the beak for good measure, too, just to emphasize that it's a beak and not a sideways ice cream cone!

Hmmm... That's looking better. Say, our original photo was of a bird standing on a branch, but we don't have the branch anymore, and birds fly right? So why not just get rid of the legs entirely?

And for some reason I feel like this would look really, really nice if we flipped it horizontally. Maybe clean up some of the shapes too?

Wait a damn minute...

Fuck, it's Twitter!

Achievement Get: Reinvent Graphic Design

Of course... there's still one last step of abstraction to take.

"Behold, a bird!-" Diogenes, probably

To make this a bit easier to understand, I've compiled it all into a handy-dandy chart (which I made before the aforementioned Minecraft chart, just fyi):

Representation isn't a singular possibility. That is to say that there's no one "true way" to represent a given bird, or in this case the Florida Scrub Jay. There are varying levels of concrete and abstract representation, and these serve different purposes.

Heck, even once we get to the level of abstract, there's different ways to abstract.

For instance, by abstracting to color, we get just a single shade of blue, not a random shade of blue but rather a specific shade that's derived from more concrete representations of blue birds.

But instead of abstracting to color, we can abstract to lines instead, and get a few vague lines that hint at the form of a bird flapping it's wings.

It's that sort of abstraction-to-lines that's useful in things like animation, where using simple linework to emphasize seemingly abstract concepts like "rhythm" and "movement" in a more tangible way can help make the figures feel more alive:

(Image taken from the Barnes & Noble listing of the book Gesture Drawing: Dynamic Movement and Form, by Michael Hampton.)

This is why I've grown to appreciate abstract art, even if it's not the primary thing I draw or my #1 form of consumed art. Because ultimately, abstract art can (though doesn't necessarily have to) serve a purpose: to explore the underlying visual themes throughout countless forms of art.

Explorations of line, color, value, shape, form, etc. have their merit in allowing us to contemplate these ideas in simple abstracted ways that do away with the messy distracting details. And once you get a better understanding of these fundamental art concepts in a more abstract sense, you can use that abstract understanding to reinforce your more concrete representational works. Shapes in underlying compositions, gesture lines in figure drawing, and so on.

Going back to the concrete-abstraction bird chart, you'll notice a little detour on the right-hand side of that chart. That's because I didn't draw my study directly from the photo; instead, I took multiple steps to get there:

A quickly and roughly-traced line sketch, then a value sketch (setting aside the photo instead of drawing over it at this point), and then adding the colors by eye, along with a few crisp lines to help indicate important edges.

THIS is the whole point of this rambling essay.

This is the crux of the matter.

This notion of concrete vs. abstract is one of the most important tools I have as an artist, because it allows me to divide the process of creating art into various stages with different intentions and different tools.

Instead of one continuous process from start to finish, from beginning to end, from concept to realized image... it's a messy back-and-forth between different processes that jump between simplification and complexity, from abstract to concrete.

It's that back-and-forth and decision-making which makes each and every artwork unique, and which helps add a tremendous amount of meaning.

And naturally, this applies to writing as well.

I don't want to drag this on any longer than it already has, so I'll wrap things up by going back to the very original post. To quote:

"I can instantly tell when someone in one of my STEM classes didn’t pay attention in English class in high school because they can’t read scientific articles without feeding them through ChatGPT."

Yeah. This is EXACTLY why I despise ChatGPT and almost every other form of "generative AI".

Even setting aside the environmental aspects,

Even setting aside the blatant stock manipulation and technocratic bullshit,

Even setting aside the plagiarism...

...ultimately, these statistical models cannot truly replicate the human process of creation.

They simply aggregate values associated with keywords, associations which are algorithmically trained via a dataset, and then spit out some randomized combination of these values. Regardless of whether these values are words or pixels or sound waves.

Letting these generative models do your "thinking" for you?? that can only be utterly devastating to one's own critical thinking skills. I'm quite frankly terrified by how desperately these companies push these "tools" because literally nobody on this godforsaken planet truly benefits from these things excepts shareholders.

Note, this isn't a dig at all forms of machine learning; there's an AMAZING wealth of possibility from machine learning as a whole.

This "AI" stuff just ain't it.

And this is why, ultimately, it's so important to study both humanities and STEM to some degree. These are different fields of knowledge that often have similar underlying skills involved, and learning about these different fields and identiying these common skills will strengthen your ability to use these skills in all sorts of scenarios.

To use an analogy with exercise, swimming and running are two very different forms of exercise. Just because a person is good at athletic running doesn't mean they're good at athletic swimming, and vice-versa.

However, both running and swimming require muscle movements, and the action of muscles requires energy. These muscles consume energy we get from nutrients, but importantly, they need *oxygen* to facilitate this process. And we get oxygen by breathing, right?

So folks learning to do exercise often need to learn to breathe well, too. We breathe almost effortlessly in daily life, but breathing purposefully helps you maximize your oxygen intake and CO2 outtake, making sure your body has enough oxygen to keep its muscles running optimally and for longer. Taking deeper and longer breaths while swimming, for example, can help you dive deeper for longer.

But guess what? Exercise ain't the only thing that needs good breathing. It turns out, when playing woodwind instruments like flutes, where you blow air out into or past the instrument to make sound... breathing is a handy thing as well.

So, all else being equal, a good swimmer will probably be better at breathing when they start athletic running than someone else who is also just starting to practice athletic running.

And, all else being equal, a good swimmer will probably have a better lung capacity and thus be better-equipped to play long passages when they begin learning to play the flute, compared to a different novice flautist who hasn't done any sort of exercises to practice their breathing technique.

Ultimately, there are still differences between breathing for swimming, and breathing for running, and breathing for playing music. But they're ALL still forms of breathing.

Likewise, the various critical thinking skills you learn in various STEM and humanities fields are all different and unique in their applications, but still have fundamental similarities.

Nobody needs to master everything, but to overly neglect STEM or humanities in favor of the other? That's going to hold you back, and make you vulnerable to being unable to handle various types of problems in life.

A lack of science knowledge might make you susceptible to misinformation about science, a lack of historical knowledge makes you susceptible to misinformation about history.

A lack of basic math skill makes it more difficult for you to handle logic problems in real life, and a lack of basic artistic ideas makes it more difficult to derive greater meaning and enjoyment from the plethora of arts in our daily lives; and so on and so forth.

The thing is that I think many people already have a greater deal of "basic knowledge" in various fields than they give themselves credit for. Even —or perhaps especially— when they're young!

Unfortunately, however, education systems (at least where I live, in the good 'ole US of A (derogatory) ) often separate these fields, and struggle to put them in the context of each other. To make it worse, once they're separated they're often further diluted to the point of near uselessness. History becomes rote memorization, art becomes algorithmic, math becomes overly formulaic, and so on.

If they can't be engaged with the educational material, they'll try and disengage. Especially if there are external circumstances such as bullying, chaotic or harmful domestic environments, malnutrition, etc.

And when time limits and testing standards are enforced atop all of this, naturally people turn to whatever "tools" they can to try and take back some of their time for their own interests.

Once upon a time these students would do things like write down the formulas for a test on the inside of their socks, or something. Now, of course... we've got ChatGPT.

There's so, so much to be said on the woes of education, but long story short, we're reaping the unfortunate harvest of decades of neglected education systems.

It's a damn shame, ain't it?

I cannot stress the importance of paying attention in language classes in high school. Maybe the reason why your English teacher taught you about unreliable narrators is because a lot of the media around you is written by unreliable narrators posing as reliable. Maybe they gave you assignments on interpreting texts so you could draw your own conclusions about news articles. Some of you clearly thought English classes were useless in high school and now are unable to engage critically with media.