#i want more content of them so bad PLEASE

[nondelphic]

creatives, please use alt text

one of the first things i learned in journalism school was how to write alt image descriptions.

at first, it felt tedious. every single photo or graphic required a description, and if we skipped it—or wrote a lazy one—our professors didn’t hesitate to fail us. at the time, i didn’t fully understand why it mattered. but now, i’m so grateful they drilled it into us. if i’d never gone to journalism school, i might have never known how vital alt text is.

for those unfamiliar, alt text (short for “alternative text”) is a written description of an image. it allows people who use screen readers to know what’s in an image, making content accessible to those who are blind, visually impaired, or have other disabilities that prevent them from viewing images. you're basically translating visual content into words.

as creatives, whether we’re writers, artists, photographers, or meme page admins, we have a responsibility to make our work accessible. after all, what’s the point of creating something if a huge portion of your audience can’t engage with it?

why alt text matters

it ensures accessibility - a visually impaired person using a screen reader should be able to understand the context of an image just as easily as a sighted person.

it’s inclusive - adding alt text isn’t just for people with disabilities. sometimes, images don’t load due to bad internet, and alt text helps everyone understand what’s missing.

it’s good practice - if your work exists online, you want it to be as widely understood as possible. accessibility makes your content stronger.

okay, but how do i write alt text?

writing alt text isn’t as hard as it might seem! here are some tips:

be concise but descriptive - describe the essential elements of the image. what would someone need to know to get the gist of it?

include context - if the image is part of a larger story, explain its relevance. for example, “a black cat sitting on a pumpkin, used to illustrate a halloween-themed story.”

don’t overthink it - you don’t need to describe every pixel. just focus on the most important details.

alt text and ai tools

in the era of chatgpt and microsoft copilot, we’ve got a major advantage: ai tools can now generate alt text for you!

while these tools aren’t perfect and often need a bit of tweaking, they’re a great starting point. platforms like adobe, microsoft, and even some social media apps have built-in options for generating descriptions. if you’re overwhelmed by the idea of writing alt text from scratch, let ai do the heavy lifting, and then refine it.

a creative responsibility

alt text isn’t just for journalists or big companies, it’s for all of us.

as creatives, we have the power to make the internet a more inclusive place. whether you’re posting a masterpiece, a meme, or a picture of your cat, take a moment to add alt text.

adding alt image description is SO EASY and quick and we all need to get better at adding it to our posts. i, myself, am not perfect. on here, for example, i've been really bad about writing alt image descriptions, and it's something i'm very disappointed in myself for. (i hereby pledge to do better, and please call me out for lacking in the future!)

writing alt text is not only about respecting your audience, but it's also about recognizing disabled people's right to engage with your work.

accessibility isn’t optional !!

[cheshireliam]

"Wrapped in Wicked Romance" Story Event: Chapter 2

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

(Now… I wonder what I should talk to Ring about.)

(... Huh?) 

While I was trying to think of a conversation starter, I realised that Ring was already way ahead of me. 

Kate: Ring! Wait up! 

Ring: !? Why are you so far behind…? 

I hurriedly chased after him and he rushed back toward me.

We met halfway and started walking side by side again.

Kate: Perhaps my strides aren’t as long as yours. I’ll try to keep up. 

Ring: No, I should’ve slowed down to match your pace. … My bad. 

Ring: A-anyway, you can hold onto my arm.

Kate: Thank you. 

Ring: Actually… I wanted to have you hold my arm back at the meeting point. 

Kate: Was that during your sudden warm-up session just now?

Ring: Yeah. … I should've let you hold my arm earlier if I knew you were going to be left behind.

Ring: I’m not good at acting like a lover at all. Even if it's Dari’s orders…

Kate: Neither of us are acting the part right now, so don’t let it bother you. 

Kate: Is there anything else you wanted to say but couldn't?

Ring: There is. It’s about… your outfit. 

Ring: “I love your outfit today. It suits the little robin very well”.

Ring: “Where did you get that bracelet? I want to get a matching one”. 

Kate: Huh…? 

Ring: “The design around the collar is fun. It really looks like your kind of thing. Also—”... 

Kate: Um��� are those your own words? 

I couldn't help but interrupt when Ring, who had been acting awkward the whole time, suddenly started complimenting me so smoothly that it felt unnatural.

Ring: … Y-you’re sharp. As expected from a member of Crown… you’re dangerous. 

(It’s not that I’m sharp, it’s that Ring’s behaviour is so obviously unnatural…)

Ring: Actually… I had Nica teach me some words to compliment you, so that I can do a better job at pretending to be your lover.

Kate: So that’s what happened…! I’m happy you prepared yourself in advance, but…

Ring: “But”? 

Kate: I’d much rather hear you use your own words, Ring.

Kate: Do you usually compliment your lover using words someone else said?

Ring: N-no, I don't… I-I think. 

Ring: A-anyway, give me a moment while I think of the words to compliment you. 

Kate: … You don't have to force yourself to compliment me if nothing comes to mine, okay?

Ring: No, I really do think your outfit looks nice, it's just… umm… 

He took my comment about wanting to hear him use his own words seriously and struggled to respond. 

I couldn't help but find it endearing that he was trying so hard…

(You can do it…!) 

I silently cheered him on in my heart.

Ring: Your outfit today looks… frilly and soft… I-I think it’s c-cute.

Ring: It reminds me of a purple Hardenbergia flower… the subdued color is comforting to look at. 

The words he finally managed to string together sounded hesitant and awkward, but they struck me deeper than any borrowed praises could ever.

Kate: I never would've thought of comparing the colour of my clothes to Hardenbergia flowers! It makes me so happy to hear that.

Ring: …! I-I see… that's good to know.

Kate: You must know a lot about flowers, don’t you?

Ring: Y-yeah… I probably know more about flowers than most other things. 

Kate: There are some flower beds on the way to The Scala.

Kate: If you don't mind, could you tell me what flowers they are?

Ring: … If I can identify them. 

…

And so, on our way to The Scala, Ring taught me about the flowers blooming along the road… 

Thanks to that, his nervousness seemed to have eased significantly by the time we reached Piccadilly. 

Ring: … It’s about time for the play to start. We made it just in time.

Kate: You’re right! The Scala is right up ahead. Let’s go. 

(... He’s still a little awkward, but I feel that he’s conversing more naturally now as compared to this morning.)

Even Ring was wary of me and said some disturbing things earlier on… 

He was an honest, upright person who was willing to listen to what I had to say. 

That honestly was likely the reason why I could freely interact with him without feeling on edge myself. 

(I’m looking forward to watching the play. I wonder what kind of reactions Ring will have.)

(... Huh?)

Ring: … Why did you suddenly stop? Is something wrong?

Kate: P-pardon me. There’s something I want to verify… you come too, Ring! 

I grabbed Ring’s arm and led him toward an alley in the opposite direction of The Scala. 

…

Ring: … What business do you have in an alley like this?

Kate: There’s been a rise in child abduction cases in the area lately, and I thought I saw someone resembling the suspect on the run… 

Kate: Ah… it’s him! 

I lowered my voice and pointed at a man lurking in the shadows of the alley. 

Kate: There’s a chance I got the wrong person, so I’m going to act casual and try to get information out of him— 

While I was explaining the situation to Ring, a young girl wandered into the alley, perhaps by accident.

At that moment, the man made a move. 

(Ah…!) 

He crept up behind the girl and covered her mouth with a piece of cloth he had in his hand. It seemed to have been laced with some sort of drug. 

The girl fell unconscious, and the man skillfully stuffed her into a bag before attempting to flee the scene.

Kate: Ring, let’s go after him! 

Ring: … No, we need to report this to Dari and have him make a decision first. 

Kate: What…? B-but there's a kidnapping happening right in front of our faces! We must act now! 

Ring: I was ordered to only ensure you return to the castle safely today. Any actions taken beyond that are prohibited.

Ring: Getting involved in strange situations would be going against Dari’s orders.

Ring: I understand that you want to help, but we should only act after reporting to Dari. 

(How can he say such things when a serious crime is being committed right under our noses…?)

Just a couple of minutes ago, I concluded that Ring was an honest and upright person that would never tell a lie.

But it was precisely because of that, I instantly knew that his words right now weren’t lies. 

In other words… Ring had no intention of stopping the crime from happening at all. 

Ring Schwartz, the person I thought I was starting to understand, became a complete stranger to me once more.

Kate: … F-fine. Then I’ll go after that criminal MYSELF!

Ring: H-hey…! 

[ihfmseatsoch]

hi erm do you take requests. and if so can I pretty please get a masc reader raping Jimmy after finding out what happened to Anya fic (I want to tear this disgusting man’s ass up so bad it makes me look stupid)

OHH my gosh anon i understand you so deeply. rape that mans ass to shreds!!!!!!! i hope this is alright :3

–

Jimmy Zare x masc!reader

reader refers to themself as a guy and has a dick

genre: smut, dark fic

word count: 2.8k

warnings/content: rape, you shot jimmy in the legs lol, several mentions of anyas sexual assault, no prep, loss of virginity, (on jimmys end) (literally) hate sex, rough sex, jimmys a little crybaby, death threats

–

"Are you scared, Jim?"

You crouch to ground level with the man– no, calling him a man would imply that he has some sort of humanity left in him. The monster in front of you, both of his kneecaps wounded by the bullets you shot with your own hands, glares at you with pure vitriol.

You've actually tried pretty hard to stay in your new captains good graces these past couple months. Of course, it was only for the sake of self preservation. Who would willingly befriend such an arrogant, self-centered, pessimistic asshole like Jimmy? Besides Curly, for whatever reason.

But it wasn't until Anya, at her wits end and on the verge of yet another mental break, confided in you about her pregnancy, and her assailant; none other than Jimmy fucking Zare.

You couldn't say you were surprised that he lacked basic morality. Maybe morality can no longer apply to the situation you're all stuck in, all of you just trying to survive at whatever cost. Every man for himself, right?

Even so, monsters deserve to be punished. And luckily, Jimmy is still alive to feel whatever you force him to take. Whether it be the insults you hurl at him, or physical torture; like the bullets embedded deep in his muscles, immobilizing him, his autonomy ripped away.

"It doesn't feel good, does it? Not having the option to worm your way out of the mess you've made."

Jimmy gives you he most contemptuous, disgusted look, like you're the evil one here. He let out a frustrated growl, his voice was low and venomous. "You think you're so fuckin', righteous, huh? Acting like you're any better than me." His lips curl downwards in a sneer.

You may not be any more of a good person than he is. You've stooped to his level, after all, resorting to violence. But as the saying goes, you reap what you sow, and Jimmy has yet to pay for anything he's done. All the pain and trauma he's caused, not just to Anya, but dozens of poor women back on Earth. Men like him always get what's coming to them.

"This isn't a morality competition, Jim. We're all only human here. But you..."

Leaning in, you grip his boney jaw, forcing him to look at you, your eyes boring into his. He's terrified, you can tell.

"Honestly, you're less than dog shit."

It was clearly infuriating to him that he didn't have the ability to physically intimidate or overpower you. For once in his life, Jimmy's bravado had been shattered. He was unable to move away, to spit back his usual insults, as he was forced to stare into your cols eyes. You had the upper hand, and he hated it.

He hated being in the same position as the many others he's forced into.

His body tensed with anger as he tried to wrench his jaw out of your grasp, but your fingers dug too harshly into his skin. "Get... Get your goddamn hands off me, you... you–"

"You didn't listen to Anya when she begged you for the same thing. Isn't it ironic, the way karma works?"

The mention of Anya seemed to hit a nerve within him, his blood running cold, frigid through his veins. "I told her to keep her stupid mouth shu– fuck!–" A stabbing pain shot through his legs, causing his face to contort in agony.

Despite the pain and the fear welling up within him, he forced himself to speak through clenched teeth. "Shut... Shut the fuck up. Stop talking like you– like you know anything."

"I know enough. So does Swansea. Curly too, for what it's worth. Even if the useless fucker didn't do anything to reprimand you." You shove Jimmy onto his back, his head hitting the cold steel floor with a dull thud, hard enough to make him woozy for a moment. You can't find any empathy inside of you to care. As far as you're concerned, the creature in front of you isn't a person.

Clicking your tongue at the sight of him, you crawl over to his pathetic, writhing body, hovering above him. "Guess it's up to me to give you what's been comin' to you for a long fucking time, huh?"

Jimmy hissed in pain and tried, in vain, to scoot himself away, but his wounded legs refused to move, and he found himself trapped between you and the floor. For the first time in his life, he was in the position of a powerless victim.

His voice comes out embarrassingly strained and weak, "What're you gonna do, then? Kill me? You think that's the worst thing you could do to me? I've been ready to die. You'd be doin' me a fuckin' favor."

You dig your knee into his groin, putting a painful amount of weight onto him, a sharp cry escaping his lungs. "No. You don't deserve to die, that'd just give you a way out." Your hand reaches up to his neck, squeezing his windpipe just enough to make him struggle to breathe.

"I'm keeping you alive so you can feel every single thing I do to you."

Jimmy clawed uselessly at your hand, frantically trying to pry it away from his throat, the only thing he could manage to do with his legs unable to kick or thrash. "S– Stop–! Ghhkk– Don't–"

"You still think you deserve mercy? That's cute, Jim."

You roughly yank the buttons of his coveralls out of their loops, tearing away the first layer of protection he had between you and him. Not that the uniforms Pony Express gave you acted as a safeguard in the first place.

Jimmy feels exposed, vulnerable in a way he's never experienced before. Suddenly, he's very aware of the fact that he's at your mercy, and he can't do anything to stop you. Fear began to creep in, and he started to hyperventilate, panicked and desperate as he choked out a reply,

"I– I said s– stop, you fucking– I swear, when I can walk again, I'll–" He sputters, his sentence coming out broken and raspy from the pressure on his neck. You let go, only so you can focus on getting him undressed. He intakes a large gasp of air, coughing hoarsely.

"You'll what? What're you gonna do, Jimmy?" You mock him, keeping your tone extra condescending just to rub the humiliation in even more. "I'll tell you how this is gonna go; you're not walking for a good, long while. That's just reality, so get used to it."

You tug at his clothes until, albeit with a lot of struggle and fighting against Jimmy's flailing, his uniform is bunched around his ankles, leaving him in his grey long sleeve and underwear.

"And, while you're incapacitated– You grunt as you tug his boots off, throwing them carelessly aside to make it easier to slip the garment completely off his body.

"I think you can guess what's gonna happen to you."

Jimmy's face pales as the realization of what you plan on doing fully dawns on him. His heart drops to the pit of his stomach, dread sinking into his gut. He can't escape this. "Wait, h– hold on, you can't– We... We can talk this through, just– get off of me–"

"I'm guessing you've never been with a guy before, huh? Nah, you're too... 'macho' for that." You flip him over, a sharp, throbbing pain rushing through his knees as he's forced to put pressure on his wounds to prop himself up. "Might as well give you your first experience before we all die here, yeah?"

Jimmy tries to scramble away from you, but his wounded legs barely move an inch. He cries out in agony, his eyes welling up with tears from the excruciating pain in his joints. He looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes wide, filled with fear.

"No, Wait, stop–! Don't– You can't do this, please, I–" He tried to keep his voice hard and defiant, but terror had seeped into it, causing his words to quiver and falter.

"Oh, I can't, but you can?" You scoff at his ability to still be a raging hypocrite, even in the position he's in. "You think the world bends to your fuckin' will, don't you? Curly sure did. Maybe that's what makes you feel so entitled. You were enabled."

With a swift tug, his fabric is pulled down just enough to expose his ass to you. "Not anymore. Never again."

Jimmy's pride, the only thing he had left, had begun to crumble beneath him.

He's scared.

He prayed for someone, anyone, to intervene in the situation. But the cargo hold was empty, devoid of any soul besides you two. Jimmy choked back a sob, his vision growing blurry with tears. His voice was strained as he pleaded, "P– Please, d– don't do this. I'm... I'm sorry–"

Completely ignoring his incessant pleas at this point, you carelessly fondle his ass, roughly handling what little amount of fat his had on his bones. "Oh, I'm sure." You mumble, your sarcasm audible.

Spreading his cheeks apart, you make a 'tsk' sound at the sight of his tight, untouched virgin asshole. "Sheesh, that's gonna be a tight fit." You speak your thoughts aloud, just to make his face burn redder with utter humiliation. He could vomit right now.

"I swear, I'm gonna fucking kill you." He snarls, voice breaking with the emphasis he put on the word 'kill', his teary eyed glare full of unadulterated disdain and loathing for you. "I'll find a way. I'll find a way to blow your fucking brains out."

He can't even move, and yet he's still trying to get the upper hand, as if he's some kind of cornered dog, snarling and snapping at your heels in defiance to the very end.

"Mhm." You don't take him seriously, knowing that without serious medical attention, which Anya obviously won't be providing, he's essentially screwed, for a lack of a proper description of his situation. You palm your semi-hard dick, stroking the outline of your length through the fabric. You hate this man, you really do, but you can't deny the excitement you feel from giving someone like him a taste of his own medicine.

You can't tell yourself it won't be satisfying to make him feel everything Anya felt, because it will. It will be the most gratifying thing you ever do.

You gather up a wad of spit in your mouth before spitting on his hole, saliva being only available lubricant. It may not be the best, but he doesn't deserve the comfort a proper lube would give him anyway. He physically cringes at the feeling.

"I'm not gonna bother prepping you. That'd be too nice." You considered not even warning him of this, but you liked seeing him scared. You liked seeing the way his breathing picked up in panic, his heart rate bordering on tachycardia.

"Fuck you," he spat with the hostility of a rabid dog. "You're gonna regret this. I won't let you–"

Jimmy's empty threats are interrupted when he feels the head of your dick prodding at his hole, and you chuckle lowly at his shudder. "Shhh. All you've gotta worry about from now on is getting me off."

Before he can even think, you're already pushing yourself inside him. The sting is unlike any kind of pain he's ever felt, even compared to his current wounds, which have actually gone half numb from the sheer amount of pain they're in. Jimmy cries out a broken wail, gritting his teeth, his tears pooling onto the floor as he squeezes his eyes shut.

You groan as you struggle to fit inside him even halfway, spitting on his hole again for good measure. "Hah– holy shit, Jim. I can already tell you won't be a half bad fleshlight for me."

Jimmy trembles from the utter discomfort he feels from the unwelcome penetration. He wants to scream, but all that comes out is pathetic, choked sobs, his cheek laying in a puddle of his own tears. "Fuck you, fuck you..." He snivels, blubbering.

You hardly even acknowledge him as he weeps, managing to jam yourself halfway inside him, his walls clenching like a vice around your shaft. "God, you're probably tighter than a girl." You laugh, your palm coming down harshly on his ass, just so you can watch him jolt. You snake a hand around his torso to grab his cock, noticing it's flaccidity. "Damn, you're not even hard," You comment without much sympathy, simply verbalizing your observation, "Not that I care, but it'd be funny if you got off on this too."

Jimmy, unable to recoil out of your grasp, can only cringe harder than he ever has. "You're sick," he hissed, "I'll tell everyone, you can't get away with–"

"You really think any of them will feel bad for you?" You roll your eyes in annoyance, growing tired of how irksome he is. "Jeez, I wish I could gag you with something. You're the most concieted egomaniac–" You grunt as you snap your hips against his, your dick shoved to the hilt inside him, "–That I have ever met."

Jimmy ceases his griping for once, laying there like a defenseless ragdoll. What else can he do? He's short of options, a plan, support... he has nothing. Nothing and no one will save him this time. The inside of his hole aches excruciatingly, agony washing over his entire body, his neck is cricked to the side, irritating the muscle which is sure to be unbearably tender later. A lasting reminder of how weak he really is.

His hole loosens to take your cock as you thrust with an impetuous rhythm, hearing him whine at every brutish snap of your hips. The way his slick walls drag along your shaft makes you feel a fervid sense of carnality, knowing you've reduced him to a mere object. A receptacle. "Fuck, I didn't think you'd feel this good. That's something you've got going for you." You utter throatily, groping his hips to pull him back and forth on your dick.

He wants to die. He wishes you would've just killed him and threw his bloated corpse out of the airlock, never to be seen again in the vast outskirts of space. Shit, he would've been fine with you just abandoning him to rot in here alone. But he hasn't earned your mercy, or anyone's. Jimmy feels every inch of your cock violating and slamming carelessly deep inside him

"I hope this hurts." You confirm scornfully that yes, you're aware he's in pain, and you're very pleased with yourself. "This is exactly what she felt, and this is exactly what you deserve."

Jimmy silently prays to a god he's never believed in to make you stop, or just cum already and be done with him. "Ple–ease...–" he finds himself mewling miserably, running out of both the tears, and strength to cry. He finds himself completely detaching from reality, clinging onto the hope that this will be over soon. If he can live through this, he'll be okay. His dissociative, quiet state makes it all the more easy for you to ignore his humanity.

You feel the familiar buildup of warmth stirring in your gut, balls tightening annoyingly soon. You wanted to prolong his suffering, but you've been just as pent up as anyone else would be during an 8+ month long haul. The difference between you and Jimmy was that you could hold back and not give into your own selfish desires.

Another difference between you two is that you can get away with this, not suffering from any ramifications. But him? If you're all miraculously saved from this hell you're trapped in, he won't be exempt from the consequences of his actions. The other, less favourable outcome being the ship runs out of oxygen and food, and you're all forced to die slowly, but the one positive aspect is that Jimmy still wouldn't be getting out scott free. In every way, he lost.

With a drawn out growl, you fill him to the brim with warm, thick ropes of cum. When you catch your breath and pull out, you watch the sticky, white substance seep from his gaping hole. It drips down his shaking thighs, which collapse under him, and he falls to his side, curled up in a piteous ball, hugging himself tightly and hiding his face as he tries to ignore the throbbing pain in his ass and imagine himself somewhere else. Though, he doesn't exactly know where to escape to. He's never had a 'happy place', so to speak.

Picking yourself up off the ground and brushing yourself off, you tut at the comical display of cowardice in front of you. You kick his quivering body in the ribcage for good measure as you tuck yourself back into your uniform.

"See you next time, Captain." You sneer, speaking to him with shocking casualness, leaving the cargo hold without a second glance back at him.

The words "next time" replay tauntingly in his head as he lay there, paralyzed with terror.

–

[thecoffeelorian]

Fandom Friday, 12/27: Fanfiction!

Hello again, everyone…and welcome to another installment of Fandom Friday, the two-post series where I go off to find new and interesting fanworks that might need a bit more visibility.

Before we begin, I have to admit something real quick: I almost forgot to make this list at all, because I was first working to get through retail hell at my job, followed by regaining all of my energy (and spoons) on Christmas Day.

However, since I think I managed to gather at least seven links for you all, even if it was at the last minute, I certainly hope that this is satisfactory at such short notice.

Anyways, before I get too distracted or lost...here, now, are my picks of the week.

THE PREQUELS

The Prequels Fanfiction--By @beauiestars:

THE CLONE WARS

The Clone Wars Fanfiction--By @testingforgravity:

The Clone Wars Fanfiction--By @justaparsec94:

THE BAD BATCH

The Bad Batch Fanfiction--By @star-farer:

The Bad Batch Fanfiction--By @indigofyrebird:

THE MANDALORIAN

The Mandalorian Fanfiction--By @dindjarindiaries:

The Mandalorian Fanfiction--By @annwrites24:

SKELETON CREW

Skeleton Crew Fanfiction--By @writing-girlie:

In conclusion, as part of my mission to poke around the Star Wars fandom and highlight those writers who might otherwise go unnoticed…I hope you will check out the links I have included for yourselves and like, comment on, and reblog them, as well as also giving the writers a few more followers to their Tumblr pages.

Please also like and reblog this latest installment so that these links can be spread around to as many other fans as possible, just in case not all of them can tune in at the same time.

An additional thank you goes to @djarrex for making the divider I used earlier in this post, but still want to give credit for.

And finally, so that I do not forget…thank you to my friends, thank you to this fandom, and above all else, please stay safe out there.

No Pressure Tags: @melymigo @algo-o-nada @the-osborn-way @everybirdfellsilent @skellymom

@leos-multifandom-corner @maggie-dylan @leenathegreengirl @gun-roswell @tazmbc1

@bluedeedeedoop @its-time-to-rise-above @tlmtwelve @snoowply @apocalyp-tech-a and anybody else who might be on the lookout for new SW fanfiction.

[neptunescore]

Please elaborate on carlandoscar.. I would love to hear your thoughts and I want to be convinced

Hello nonnie<3

God I have so much to say, like their dynamics just make so much sense??

First of all, just the absolute poetry that is their current stages of life. I don't know if that's the sentence you'd use to explain it, but. just listen:

Oscar- what might be

Lando- what is / what could be

Carlos- what could've been

Bc isn't that what they are.

We all know Oscar is championship material; he's got the mentality, and his racecraft and understanding of the car just gets better, especially considering the fact that it's literally his second year in F1.

Lando is the one who is, right now. He very nearly got his first championship this year, and he's just getting better. I've also written 'could be' mostly bc of the fact he still isn't a champion yet, but even with all my mclaren haterism, I do know it's a very realistic possibility.

Carlos, on the other hand, is all spent potential. Not necessarily wasted potential, bc I do feel he made a name for himself, but he's spent all his potential in teams that never gave him a proper chance to compete. Like with Renault and Mclaren it was the car, and with Ferrari it was the car AND the team's clear show of favour (not said in like a bad way, more so in a sad way). And obv torro rosso was smthng else.

So, just. The combination of these 3 different stages is so compelling to me.

Next, we have their relationships with each other.

With Lando and Carlos and all their history, as well as them still being so close with each other, while Oscar and Carlos are always making snide remarks about one another. Except. Then you have Carlos calling them 'magnets' and Oscar only speaking up when Carlos does smthng small on track, and suddenly. They're giving each other fist bumps. They're smiling at each other when their eyes lock. They're following each other on instagram. And they're talking.

And ofc, you also just have Lando and Oscar. Lando, who will take any chance he has to tease Oscar. And Oscar, who will keel over and die with laughter at anything remotely funny, Lando says. Lando, who gave oscar his Sprint win without even being asked. Oscar, who's followed team orders with no complaints to make sure Lando stayed in championship contention.

They're just so perfectly intertwined.

Now, on to my more rpf thoughts.

I honestly fully believe that while Lando and Carlos have been friends for much longer, Oscar and Carlos would get together first. I can totally see both of them being forcefully/coincidentally put into situations where there is no choice but for them to talk. Over time, I think they just start to enjoy it. Like first, they feel genuine irritation with each other over their stupid arguments. Now, they're having fun. They like getting on to each others nerves. It becomes a sort of game.

This just keeps happening until one day they take it too far, stumble into uncharted territory, then stumble into each other, and then just stumble into bed together. Come morning, Oscar is waking up to the smell of freshly made pancakes, and him and Carlos are arguing about toppings and, well. It just feels natural. It clicks. They're together now, and neither of them even has to say it bc the other one just knows.

Lando is much more complicated. Honestly, I think he'd have a whole crisis about it. First, he'd go thru the 'wait, am I G-A-Y???' breakdown during his F2 years. Then, he'd go thru the 'ohmygod I LIKE CARLOS?!?' breakdown midway thru their second year together in Mclaren. And I can totally imagine him having his, 'wait why do I think Oscar is cute and why am I still not over Carlos why is this happening to me.' breakdown during the summer break after Oscar's first year.

Honestly, I've already written way too much now😭 if yall are still interested and wanna know how I think Lando gets with them just leave me an ask and I'll respond to that bc this is WAY to long. And if you're interested in their relationship/bedroom dynamics, then feel free to ask abt that too bc I have put MUCH thought behind it😭😭😭

Anyway, I hope this convinced you at least a little bit nonnie<3

[therealplaguedoctor]

Incantato?

Kimi antonelli x fem!reader

Summary/prolong (idek anymore)- Where kimi was so star struck that he could only talk in Italian...you know Italian.

Warnings/content- fem reader, 2nd person (you/your), tried to not use y/n used maybe once or twice, lmk if I missed anything

Non serious warnings: the time line might be a little fucked but uhhh idc, reader isn't described as any nationality but is hinted at being American (not explicitly mentioned), author is a dumbass and pretends she knows shit(she doesnt), American spelling, I never spell check, Idk what a kilometer is,

A/n- sooo I've been wanting to write a kimi A. fic FOREVERRRR as hes definitely one of if not my favorite driver, so ye! Also thanks again to anon for giving me the fic name and giving me the context it is used in I'm also apologizing for my Google translated Italian.... and another side note Ik I didn't use 'incantato' in it's technically correct context it still wanted to do my original dialog so oops?

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You've known ollie for a long time. So long in fact you can't even remember when. You've two whenever you've been together had been inseparable which made it all the harder when you couldn't see eachother due to his Karting but alas your friend ship survived and you two, not having talked in person for a very long time, are still really good friends.

"Please come on we haven't seen eachother in forever it would be nice to hang out!" Ollie partially begged on the phone. He was trying to get you to come to the Great Britain Grand Prix more commonly referred to as Silverstone.

"I don't know Ollie..." You said I mean with travel expenses you really didn't want to..

"Pleaseeeee? I'll cover all the travel" he said trying his hardest to get you to agree

Welp there goes your only excuse "fine.." you said giving in

"Thank you you're the best" you could hear the smile in his voice as he talked. The conversation continued touching random topics before you declared it to late and said your good byes.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You finally touched down in the UK. You grabbed your bags and made your way to the exit. Ollie while wanting to pick you up from the airport was pulled into a meeting to go over his times so he was super apologetic. You of course told him it was fine and that you can just get an Uber to your hotel. That of course is what you did.

Arriving at your hotel you checked in and threw all your stuffs in your room. Jet lagged from the flight you decide just to take a shower and head to bed as it was late anyways due to flight delays.

You peeled the airport clothes off of you throwing them on the bathroom floor before stepping into the warm water falling from the shower head. The hotel actually had decent water pressure.

Stepping out of the shower you wrapped yourself in the towel smoothly applying your hair products. You pat your hair dry opting to let it air dry the rest of the way. You quickly got dressed in some comfortable pj's. Sitting in the hotel chair as you grabbed your phone to text Ollie,

You: just letting you know I'm in the hotel and gonna head to bed

Ollie: okay

Ollie: ill pick you up tomorrow

Ollie: sorry again about not bing able to pick you up :(((

You: Ollie it's fine!!!

You: you were busy it's okay!!!

Ollie: okay

Ollie: I still feel bad :((

You: don't.

You: problem solved

Ollie: :D

You: good night Ollie

Ollie: night!

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Your alarm blared again in your ear. Annoyed you shut it off glancing at the time. Begrudgingly you got up and slowly got dressed and got ready looking in the mirror you fixed your hair. As you finished your phone rang, picking it up you looked at the caller ID: Ollie, you answered

"Hey what's up?" You asked

"Hey goodmorning" he said "I'm pulling up to your hotel now if your ready?"

You grabbed your bag and stuffed your wallet in it "yeah I'm ready I'm heading down now" you said "just got finished"

"Alright see you soon" he said happily as he hung up.

You shut the door to your hotel room behind you it clicking shut and checked to make sure it's locked. Satisfied you went over and took the hotel down.

Exiting the elevator you immediately spotted the tall brit.

"Ollie!" You called

He looked your direction looking for the voice. Almost instantly spotting you a smile spread crossed his face. "Ahh there you are" he said.

"Hey ollie" you smiled walking up to him

"Hey" he said "let's go before we get swarmed" he said with his poor disguise: sunglasses

"You mean you get swarmed" you said as you made your way to the exit "Mr hot shot formula one driver" you joked

He chuckled "well how does it feel to be the best friend of the hotshot f1 driver" He asked pretending to be an interviewer.

You smiled letting out a small laugh as he opened the door to the car

"Ever so the gentleman Mr bear" you smiled

"If my mom found out I didn't behave like this she would kill me" Ollie joked before he got in the car shutting the door and starting it up "I swear youre her favorite child" he joked

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Arriving at the paddock you both got out of the car smoothing out our clothes after shutting the door Ollie handed you a pass.

"There you are" he smiled "it's a ferrari pass cause you know me being reserve and all" he said "I wish you would come to one of my prema races though" he pouted

"Firstly: thanks" you said "and secondly you know my classes over lap with your races plus I wouldn't be able to properly hang out with you if it was an actual race weekend"

"Okay good point" he smiled as you both made your way to the entrance, "oh I know you know but there gonna be a bunch of cameras just ignore them and there'll be a bunch of fans so I'm gonna stop and sign some things"

You nodded as he scanned his pass letting him inside you quickly did the same.

Ollie quickly went to the side taking some pictures with fans and signing some items you stood off to the side waiting for him to finish as he waved good bye to the fans he walked towards the wall of camerasbefore following the path and flow of people, you were quick to follow him.

"Hey man slow down I'm not as tall as you" you complained

"Sorry mate" he chuckled "i just want to introduce you to my friend he's probably in the Mercedes hospitality..." Ollie trailed off as he looked around. As he looked around he took off in a direction. At his sudden take off you followed him quickly weaving through the people.

Finally you caught up to him, he was talking to another guy, a cute guy, dressed in Mercedes gear with curly Brown hair.

"Ah there you are" Ollie smiled wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "Kimi this is my friend, y/n I've told you about her" Ollie smiled looking over at Kimi.

He stood there almost speechless for a moment before shaking his you could only assume to organize his thoughts, he then turned partially to ollie talking in a hushed tone that you could still hear "Ollie, non mi avevi detto che era bellissima, (Ollie you didn't tell me she was beautiful)"

Ollie chuckled, he picked up on a bit of Italian he wasn't to keen on speaking but he knew what was being said, "dude chill she's like a sister"

"Lo so, lo so, ma sono solo...(I know I know but I'm just...)" he trailed off as he looked up at you, you wouldn't describe it as staring more like enamored

"..incantato? (..enchanted?)" You asked as you watched kimi's face heat up he became so red in just a few seconds

"Io uhhh- umm scusa- cioè dovrei scusarmi- Uhh non voglio sembrare inquietante- (I uhhh- umm sorry- I mean i should apologize- Uhh I don't want to come off as creepy-)" Kimi stumbled over word after word trying to apologize to you.

You just smiled "non preoccuparti, penso che sia stato carino, proprio come te (don't worry I think it was cute, just like you)"

Smooth real smooth.

His face became somehow every more red. Ollie spoke up "I feel like I'm interrupting something..." he said looking between you two

"No don't worry Ollie not interrupting anything" you smiled "right Kimi?" You asked the Italian who is still trying to gather his thoughts

"Oh sí, non interrompo nulla...(oh yeah, not interrupting anything...)" kimi said

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You were just sitting in a semi secluded area in the paddock. Ollie had disappeared long ago probably chatting with kimi. Or that's what you thought before the Italian appeared in front of you.

"Hey um Maverick" he said shyly avoiding eye contact at seemingly all costs.

"What's up kimi?" You asked

"I just wanted to apologize for earlier, I didn't know you knew Italian and that's not an excuse I just shouldn't have said that and-" kimi started rambling

"Kimi" you said snapping him out of his own thoughts

He finally looked at you "yeah..?" He asked

"Have a seat" you said motioning to the seat across from you. He obliged sitting down quietly.

"I wanna say again-" kimi started again

"Kimi" you cut him off "it's fine" you smiled "I never said I was uncomfortable with it in fact I said that it was cute" his face started to heat up again

"I uhh umm" he cleared his throat embarrassed and blushing

"So wanna go for a date?" You asked nonchalantly

Kimi nearly falls out of his chair "I uh what!?" He asked

"Oh sorry did I read the room wrong-" you started

"No no, no!" He said quickly trying to recompose himself "I meant, yes i would love to go on a date with you" he smiled

"Great give me your phone" you said, he quickly handed it over you punched in your number creating the contact and handing it back to him.

"Okay there you are" you smiled as you got up "well it was great meeting you kimi but I do have to go give me a call or text me so we can schedule our date" you smiled before leaving.

Kimi was kinda stunned, frozen he didn't know what to do or say. Before he heard a familiar voice behind him:

"Oh she's gonna eat you alive" Ollie teased

Kimi almost jumped out of his skin "FUC- wha- how long have you been standing there?!" He asked

"Long enough." Ollie chuckled "yeah you probably won't last the date with her" he joked making kimi huff in annoyance, Ollie just smiled before resting a hand on kimis shoulder leaning to his ear "but if you hurt her I will not hesitate to shunt you into the wall next race."

"Noted...." kimi nodded

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A/N- So I have an idea for a part 2 (I've already started writing it) but idk if I'll finish it or post it but if you want to see it lmk!! But this fic has been in the works for a while and it kinda skipped ahead of 3 other fics which one of them is for a driver I've probably have writen too much for (Logan sargeant) but are we surprised? No the answer is no. But yeah so potential part 2 coming but it'll be more funny also side note i don't like this rn I might want to redo it later or I'll read it later and be like oh this was actually good or smthing idk anyways have a good day :)

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[t1red-twilight]

through the ages

part 3

content/warnings: gn!reader, spencer’s pov, season 4, angsty, past!spencelle, guilt, jealousy, crashout lol

notes: bring back men who yearn

word count: 3.1k

masterlist series masterlist s. r. masterlist

prev. part

the office was quiet. spencer showed up early, just as he always did. this was the only time he could hear the buzz of the electricity, and the soft thrum of the heating and cooling system. after setting his things down, spencer headed into the kitchenette to make a coffee.

he knew that pretty soon you’d be in, so he fashioned one for you as well. best case scenario, you’d be in when it had cooled down a little. you took your coffee sweet, but nowhere near as sweet as his was. “diabetes inducing,” you’d called it. he’d told you that type 2 diabetes would have to be triggered by many more habits than just his coffee consumption. you’d laughed, despite him not joking.

your desk was conjoined with his, a pane of glass separated them. he walked to your desk and set the coffee cup down and sat in his office chair. your mugs were part of a set: yours had a star pattern and his had moons. he had still taken the care to label both of them with your corresponding names.

by the time you had come in, it was a quarter to eight. you usually showed up at about this time, only ever held back if you missed your train or the traffic got bad on the off chance you took your car.

“spencer!” you exclaimed when you got to your desk. “thank you for the coffee! how are you doing this morning?” it was as if your voice physically brightened the room, alleviating the harsh led lights.

your voice was melodic, it rung in a way that scratched every itch in his brain. “it was no problem. it should be relatively warm by now.” he smiled, hoping his cheeks weren’t too red. he lifted his mug to his lips and sipped a mouthful of coffee.

oh, you had asked his how he was. he thumbed the corner of his mouth where a droplet remained, and answered your question. he gazed over the glass pane dividing you where you had sat. “i’m doing okay,” he stated.

“just okay?” you followed. one of your eyebrows quirked up, you smiled crookedly. the glint in your eye; ah, you were teasing him.

he took another sip of his coffee and set down his mug. “well, not enough has happened today to say whether today has been good or bad,“ he answered. you leaned back in your chair and smiled at his response. “also, are you free tonight? there’s a film screening that I wanted to go to. it’s in korean, and there isn’t a translation yet, but i can whisper a translation to you like i did last time. did you want to go with me?”

an apologetic look blossomed on your face. before you even spoke, spencer knew what your answer would be. “sorry, i have plans.” you paused, almost as if you were contemplating on if you should say the next part. “i have a date.” his heart dropped to his stomach. a date? of all things that could occupy your time it had to be a date?

spencer swallowed down the sinking feeling that grew inside him. he nodded before he spoke, trying desperately to hold onto his composure; you could not, under any circumstances find out about anything. “oh, okay. i’ll let you know how it goes, though.” he stretched his lips into a smile as casually as he could. “it should be a good one.“

you took a sip of the coffee he had made for you. “please do! next time i’ll definitely come with you,” you stated. your eyebrows were slightly pulled together, and your smile had dropped but not disappeared. it would’ve been much more desirable to melt into his office chair than look at the expression of remorse that you showed.

the paperwork that he was normally completed speedily glared up at him. typical office days usually droned on and on, but something about his earlier interaction with you set him off.

suddenly, the taking of the clock pounded in his ears. he couldn’t focus, and he was always good at focusing. what about your plans was setting him off?

the times new roman print stared at him, waiting for him to do something. the contrast of the black lettering on white background burned his eyes the longer he looked at it. the bustling sound of the office grated his ears.

he felt selfish for the feeling of surprise that swelled in him when you had stated that you had a date. he felt even worse when he had the brief hope that you wouldn’t have another date any time soon. there was a piece of him that wanted to spend every waking moment with you and another very real piece that just wanted you to be happy. perhaps he was merely biding his time until he wasn’t the most important relationship you had.

it was just a date, just one. two dates was not guaranteed, and a lifelong romantic relationship was definitely not guaranteed. memorized statistics assured him of that. this was fine, you’d go on your date and go to work and it’d be perfectly fine. but why did he even care that you had a date? It shouldn’t matter to him.

how dare he think he could have any opinion over your love life? your friendship meant a lot to him, and he knew that it meant a lot to you as well. slipping into a jealous insecure mindset would only hurt his friendship with you.

he looked again at his file. he had already completed one or two, and was midway through another. he could just go home and watch way too much doctor who and pass out on his couch once he finished his paperwork.

by lunchtime he had pushed down his downtrodden feelings in exchange for attempted apathy. it did not help that every time he looked up over the glass pane he saw you, dutifully accomplishing your paperwork.

your forehead crinkled and your lips pursed. you’d comment or ask questions regarding the case you were filling out every now and then and it didn’t seem you noticed his minor distress. as far as you were concerned you were just friends, best friends maybe.

liking you the way he did felt like betrayal, or even like he was lying. you saw him as a friend, he saw you as something else: the difference in this perception felt almost gross to him. he’d known you for a couple of years at this point and felt this way for most of it and everything had gone fine until now. so, hopefully he couple continue to shove his insecurity everything down until you were just his friend again.

-

spencer had decided not to go to the film festival at all. later, he met up with morgan, and derek had dragged him to a bar that wasn’t too far from the office.

he figured that it wasn’t worth it to go to the film festival if you couldn’t participate in his ideal activity, which was spending time with you. it didn’t take long for derek to realize that something was definitely up.

the two of them were sitting at the bar top, derek had an alcoholic drink in front of him, spencer was drinking a water. “all right. pretty boy, what’s up?” derek asked outright. this caught spencer off guard, as he was trying desperately to seem like everything was going perfectly okay.

“what do you mean?” spencer replied, his voice lowered. he avoided eye contact, but tried to keep his face as deadpan as possible. given their profession, obviously this wasn’t working. derek took note of his slump of his shoulders, and the pattern he was repeatedly tapping on the countertop.

derek rolled his eyes. in no way did spencer think derek was stupid, he just thought that he could maybe get away with facing the confrontation of how he was acting. realistically, it was only a matter of time before derek called him out.

derek leaned his head down, trying to catch spencer’s eye line. when he was unsuccessful, he returned to his laid-back position on the barstool, and rolled his eyes.

given that it was a six pm on a random wednesday, the bar filled or crowded. there was another man sitting at the bar for down, but he seemed to be minding his own business. there were a few other people, but no one worthy of note.

spencer picked up his glass and swallowed his water around. seeing as he wasn’t going to elaborate on how he was acting or how he was feeling, derek moved on. he had some clue as to why spencer was behaving the way he was, so he attempted to test the waters. “i heard that someone had a date today,” he stated. he raised his eyebrows slightly, trying to gauge spencer’s reaction.

spencer slumped further over the countertop. one hand raised to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, but he dropped his hand as quickly as it had risen. jackpot.

“yeah. what about it?” spencer’s tone was stiff and standoffish. he said he set his cup down on the counter more harshly than he would’ve liked to. it was just a date. why did he even care? “i hope it goes well.”

derek worked an eyebrow up and denial, but spencer could not see it. he was still avoiding eye contact as best he could. few people knew him as well as you did, and derek was one of these people. it was clear to anyone viewing the interaction that spencer was upset, but it was especially clear to derek that spencer was especially downtrodden.

following elle leaving the bau, spencer had opened up to derek about his feelings, and the things that had happened between the two of them. spencer had firmly planted himself in the position that he would never feel that way about another person again. derek confirmed that he would surely find another person, and spencer vehemently rejected the idea.

spencer hadn’t been, well spencer, derek would have patted his back or rubbed his shoulders in sympathy. but, all he could do was provide comfort in the only way spencer excepted it. and, this was through quiet emotional support. they sat in silence for a couple more moments before derek spoke up again.

“are you sure about that?” any teasing down that he might’ve held had completely dissipated. maybe spencer wasn’t willing to admit to himself how he felt, but derek could see through him clearly like a freshly cleaned window.

if spencer was alone he might have cried. but the admission of tears would in some part be an admission of guilt for how he felt. it wasn’t right the way he felt, you were his friend. and he intended to keep it that way. spencer pondered over what he might say next.

“they deserve it. after everything they’ve been through i think they deserve to at least go on one good date,” he muttered. “or two, or three-“ he trailed off. his voice lowered as he uttered the next phrase. “and if they end up with a long-term partner, that’s all the better.” there was a slight flavor of sarcasm derek felt between the lines of with spencer was actually saying. and he would be lying too, if he said that it didn’t catch him a little bit off guard.

derek didn’t respond for a moment after that. If he was being honest, he didn’t really know how to. usually spencer was pleasant, if not relatively soft spoken. well, soft spoken when he wasn’t dumping copious amounts of information on a random topic. over the past few years your habit of insisting on listening to exactly what spencer had to say rubbed off on the rest of the team. this had approved, extremely beneficial and high intensity situations. though, some team members refused to admit it.

silent glances amongst team members were exchanged when spencer had started making your coffee for you. or, when he brought in little trinkets and doodads when he went on paid leave to visit his mother. that wasn’t something anyone was really quite used to. there was a rhetorical acknowledgment of something that might be going on between the two of you.

spencer opened his mouth and closed it a few times. derek noticed this, and was shocked that spencer didn’t know what to say for once. “what if,” spencer mumbled. “there’s a part of me, a very small part of me,” he clarified, “that doesn’t…want their day to go exactly according to plan?”

he finally looked up at derek; and his expression was difficult to read. it was a mix of confusion, deep thought, and something hard to read. corner of derek’s mouth pulled up, but he wasn’t smiling nor adjusting. this was an expression that spencer was all too used to, but he deeply disliked. pity; something that seemed all too familiar to him.

“i think that’s all right.“ spencer took another step of his water, though it still remained quite untouched. “that’s how you feel. and I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with that.“

spencer looked up at him in puzzlement. this was not the answer that he had been expecting. he had been expecting to be chastised, for he should be happy for how his friend’s life was going. “they’re my best friend. i want them to be happy,” he finished, and he unmistakably meant it.

-

as soon as spencer had gotten home, he had knocked out like a light. the next morning at the office, he was later than he usually was. he didn’t like to be late, but the morning dragged on and on.

the train was a minute and thirty-seven seconds late, the people walking in front of him were way too slow, and most of all he just really did not want to come into work. coming into work meant he had to face you, and pretend like everything was fine.

he still made your coffee. just the way you liked it, like he did every morning. he set it on your desk next to your computer and got right to work. he had so much paperwork left over from the day previous that he had to get done. he saw you out of his periphery, and looked up and gave you as genuine a smile as he could.

“how are you doing this morning, spencer?” your inquiry was not similar to the ones you asked him every single morning. and just like every single morning, he responded with a similar answer.

he sat down his pen, took a sip of his coffee, and met your gaze. “i’m doing fine,” his voice easier to keep steady than it had been yesterday. he pulled a smile tautly across his lips. “i didn’t sleep very well last night, but that’s no big deal.”

you shot him a sympathetic gaze, before setting your things down and sitting down at your desk. “i’m sorry,” your replied.

the clear sheet in between you too provided relief; he could perhaps hide behind it and avoid looking at you.

the silence that was momentarily held was broken when you asked him a question. “how was that movie festival?” spencer instinctually fiddled with the wrist of his sweater. it was his favorite sweater, he hoped that it would help him relax more easily today.

he rested his hands atop one another on his desk, and looked at the space above your eyebrows. maybe you wouldn’t be able to tell that he wasn’t looking into your eyes, not exactly. “it was good!”he had waddled back and forth between the decision of telling you if he had gone or not. obviously, he settled on the latter.

it seemed like you were much too tired to catch on the small tells that he was lying, seeing as his voice had risen in tone and he was fiddling with his sweater sleeves. he knew when you knew that he was lying, your face held itself a certain way. in some ways, you were quite easy to read.

just the look of you made spencer’s stomach sink. he didn’t entirely know why, but he knew that it felt awful. “how was your date?” he said offhandedly as he could. he figured that that was something that he should ask.

your face lit up at the mention, and his stomach sunk even further. it was practically at his toes at this point. “it was good!” you chimed. He could tell that you were being honest, there was nothing in your face or your body that hinted that you were lying to say face. and anyway, you wouldn’t have done that. you wouldn’t lie to him.

be smiled a small smile. “that’s great! do you think you’ll go on another one?”

you thought briefly for a moment, before responding. “i think i will, we have a lot of common interest. he also has an affinity for science fiction. i think you might like him.” spencer was lost on how he should reply to this remark, surely he did not like science fiction as much as spencer did.

eventually, he settled on agreeing that science fiction was a great genre. he and your mystery man most definitely like the genre for separate reasons, but in this moment, he guessed that that didn’t matter. unfortunately, they had something in common.

the awkward nature of the conversation might’ve been lost to you, but it was not lost to spencer. he couldn’t help but feel sick at the small talk that he was being forced to endure in the moment.

finally, he felt what he had been wanting. relief. your date had gone well. you really, truly were deserving of good moments and good people. if, on the contrary, it had gone horribly awry he might’ve felt near violent.

spencer picked up his pen and continued to work on his files. he paused for a moment, and looked back up at you. he opened his mouth and closed it a couple times before deciding not to add anything else.

quickly he was drawn into his paperwork. the pencil scratched away against the paper at moore quick and paste than yesterday, and he was relieved that his mind had finally calmed.

before he could forget that this interaction ever happened, you handedly remarked some thing that he knew would stick with him, even though it was completely insignificant. “i might need help finding movies to watch with him. if we even get that far.”

if he agreed, he would have to learn more about this guy that he already had a distaste for. on the contrary, he would also spend more time with you. and there was no mistaking that he valued his time with you greatly.

“that’s what friends are for, right?”

next part

[allieslittlewritings]

Homemade Ornaments

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: How the Reids spend the Christmas season

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: None that I know of :)

A/n: Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate <3

Christmas in the Reid household was always a little bit extra. Spencer could count how many actually enjoyable Christmases he had growing up on one hand. Even as an adult, before having you, it was a time when he more often than not just felt the sickening feeling of loneliness eat him up. He once bought himself a Christmas tree and decorated it with ornaments he bought. For a second it was nice. Until it wasn't. It didn't feel the same as when he was five and him and his parents would dedicate hours to decorating their tree. It felt lonely and desperate. He didn't have the heart to put that tree up again.

Until you were born. For you, he would make Christmas fun and lively for as long as he physically could.

Your first Christmas was one of Spencer's favorite days of his life. Though you couldn't actually participate in decorating the Christmas tree or baking the cookies you couldn't eat, it no longer felt lonely.

Even if all you did was wordlessly stare at the pretty lights on the tree, it filled Spencer's heart with joy. You were going to love Christmas, he made sure of that.

The older you got, and the more things you were able to do, Spencer happily made up new family traditions for the two of you.

You always decorated the tree together. There wasn't a set date you did it, given his unpredictable work schedule. Sometimes it was as early as November 29th, and sometimes as late as Christmas Eve.

Spencer was busy attempting to plug the Christmas lights in while you made cups of hot chocolate. The same playlist of Christmas songs you listened to every year was quietly playing in the background.

You stood in wait, hot drinks in hand, and watched Spencer struggle far more than he should have knowing he'd done that every year for over a decade.

"Can I please just help you?" you asked.

"Nope, you could get electrocuted."

"So could you."

"True, but that's different," he insisted. "It would be irresponsible of me to knowingly put you in harm's way."

Finally, after what felt like a very long seventeen minutes and nineteen seconds, Spencer happily emerged from behind the tree. He adjusted his ugly Christmas sweater and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and then turned the lights on.

You lovingly admired the lights and handed your dad his mug.

"Ah, thank you, sweetheart."

You sat down in front of the tree and quietly sipped your drinks for a minute before you started hanging ornaments.

You cringed a little when you picked up the very misshapen ornament you made when you were a toddler. "Do we really have to hang this one up?"

Spencer gasped in hurt and took the ornament from your hand. "Yes. The tree would be incomplete without it. It was the first one you made without my help." You couldn't help but notice the absent-minded smile on his face as he admired the ornament in his hand.

Few words were spoken as you contently sat and continued decorating and sipping hot chocolate for the next hour or two. Every now and then you would reminisce on another old ornament. By the time you were done, Spencer could only count two that were store-bought.

Despite very year's activities being more or less the same, the tree, decorations, hot chocolate, music, and Christmas sweaters (Spencer bought you one slightly bigger than your size so you wouldn't grow out of it), it never got less enjoyable for either of you.

Baking cookies used to be a lot more chaotic. Spencer wasn't necessarily bad at baking, he just happened to burn or overbake cookies sometimes in fear of them not being baked enough and leading to you getting salmonella.

When you were old enough to help bake, the cookies turned out a lot better, they were (usually) edible.

This year you wanted to try baking gingerbread men. You gathered all the ingredients, your mixing bowl, and measuring cups.

While you made icing, Spencer measured out the ingredients. He liked to tell you about the exact ingredients and their chemical reactions when mixed together. It made baking twice as fun.

On the dining table you laid out things you could use to decorate your cookies. Frosting, chocolate chips, crushed pieces of candy. You removed a bowl of melted chocolate from the microwave and added that, too.

For no real reason, you and Spencer were excessively precise with your first ones, making sure your little gingerbread men looked like they were from a decorating cookbook. Admittedly, his looked a little better than yours.

Your second ones you did were far more messy. They all tasted the same any way, and the two of you devoured every bite.

Building snowmen was one of your personal favorite winter activities. Spencer always insisted you wear warm enough clothes, almost in excess when you were little.

Your snowman was almost complete, but it needed one last thing. And only then did you realize you failed to bring it with you.

"Dad, please tell me you remembered a carrot for his nose," you said, a dramatic amount of worry in your voice.

Spencer laughed quietly, "I was hoping you would remember but since you didn't..." He reached into your snowman making bag (something you thought of when you were four) and pulled out a carrot.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." You excitedly added the carrot to your snowman's face and stepped back to admire you and your dad's work.

"I think he looks gorgeous," you gushed.

"I have to agree," Spencer said. "Now, let's build him a daughter."

Christmas movies were a staple for the Reids during the holiday season. Most films you watched throughout the month were rewatches, but you would occasionally watch something new.

Spencer settled comfortably on the couch and and sipped his eggnog. You were busy putting your favorite Christmas movie in the DVD player. When you once suggested watching it on a streaming service, Spencer was horrified and told you to never say that again.

"How many times have we watched this movie?" you curiously asked your dad as the film started.

Spencer swallowed a gulp of soup. "Thirty-one and a half. If we continue at that rate, we'll be at a hundred-and-four when you're my age."

Not every Christmas was celebrated on actual Christmas Day. Spencer tried his best to be there every year but sometimes it simply wasn't possible. This year he was lucky enough to have the whole day off.

You woke up bright and early, so as to extend Christmas as far as possible, and sneaked to your dad's room.

Spencer snored quietly as he slept. You softly walked over to him and poked his arm repeatedly. "Dad."

Spencer hummed in response without actually opening his eyes. "It's Christmas, wake the fuck up."

Tiredly blinking his eyes open, Spencer started to groggily sit up. "Language." He wiped sleep out of his eyes and looked at the alarm clock next to his bed. "Sweetie, it's barely 6 AM."

"And?" You fiddled with the strings on your hoodie.

"And, your dad needs sleep." He lay back down with a groan but he could tell you weren't going anywhere.

He sighed and sat up again. "Fine, go get our hats."

You squealed happily and ran to get your mandatory Santa hats from the living room.

You already had yours on when you got back to his room.

"Running on socks is a bad idea." He yawned.

"Will coffee make you less of a Grinch?" you put his hat on his head, making sure to adjust his hair accordingly so it wouldn't feel off to him.

Spencer smiled tiredly. "Yes. Yes, it will."

The two of you made your way to the kitchen and you started making your coffee while Spencer put waffles in the toaster for breakfast.

He added whipped cream and chocolate chips to your waffles and crafted an almost snowman shaped clump.

You sat down in the living room — you opted for sitting on the floor in front of the couch — and ate your waffle.

You and Spencer were by no means chefs, but you still managed to make a decently good Christmas-esque meal. Some of the food was admittedly store-bought but you still tried to make a couple of things yourselves. The next few hours were spent cooking, baking, and talking with soft music playing.

Regardless of how well a dish actually turned out, you loved cooking with your dad. If it were anyone else you'd likely bump into them every other minute but you and Spencer worked well together. It was frankly quite surprising given your shared knack for clumsiness.

Spencer handed you a cherry and ate one himself. That was a mistake. You both thought the cherries were exceptionally good and thus the dessert you made ended up severely lacking in them.

"Two is probably enough, right?" You placed two cherries on top of the cake.

Spencer nodded in agreement as he popped another one in his mouth. "Definitely."

Once all the food was done, you took all of it to the dining table and set it out nicely.

"Bone apple teeth," you said with a bad attempt at a southern accent.

Spencer cringed. "Y/n..."

You cleared your throat. "Да ти е сладко." You smiled.

"Velbekommen," Spencer said back.

You continued to say the same phrase in every language the two of you knew. You stopped when you got bored, Spencer could say it in at least three more languages.

You took your emptied plates to the kitchen, though you delayed washing them until much later, and then joined your dad by the Christmas tree holding two slices of cake.

Every year, you challenged yourself to find Spencer a book you thought he would like, but hadn't read yet. This year you finally found one of the books you knew he'd been looking for for a long time. An old book from the early 19th century written by a not-so-famous mathematician.

Along with the book, which he greatly appreciated, you also got him a T-shirt and an oversized hoodie, one red and one purple. Ninety-nine percent of his outfits were made up of button-up shirts and ties, you wanted to get him something comfortable.

"Are these-"

"The exact hexcodes of your favorite shades of your favorite colors? Yes."

Spencer laughed. "Thank you, I love it."

"Did you know that in my entire lifetime, I've only ever seen you in an outfit without a button-up shirt two hundred and seventy-four times?" You asked.

"Okay, well, I happen to like all my button-up shirts," Spencer mused, looking down at his pajamas. "But I was not aware it was that little, no."

"Open your present." He took another bite of cake.

You reached forward and picked up your present. You opened it softly and carefully, in an attempt to not tear the pretty wrapping paper Spencer used.

Once you finally saw what it was a soft smile graced your face.

A Lego set related to your current favorite subject, with over a thousand pieces.

He'd also handwritten you a loving card.

You stood up and walked over to your dad and tightly hugged him from behind. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, sweetheart." He turned around to hug you back.

After you finished eating your cake, Spencer suggested watching that other movie a thirty-third time and you readily agreed.

You paused the movie twenty-nine minutes and twenty-four seconds in and looked over at your dad, getting unnecessarily close to him. "Do you want to go make hot chocolate?" you whispered.

He rested his forehead against yours and whispered, "Yes."

You followed him to the kitchen and sat on the kitchen counter, going on a random tangent about a topic very vaguely mentioned in the movie you were watching.

Spencer added mini candy canes and marshmallows as well as whipped cream to your drinks.

You cozily continued your movie and rested your head on Spencer's shoulder.

"You make Christmas fun," you mumbled.

"Thank you," Spencer said genuinely, pulling you into a hug. "You make Christmas even more fun."

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Hey, dude.

I understand wanting to use ChatGPT to instantly generate any fantasy you might have, that it seems so easy and convenient. But please...don't. I can't tell you just how bad it is for everyone involved with Arcane.

I appreciate that you at least acknowledged it in your first post, although not in the second. But this is still incredibly hurtful and disrespectful to the artists and writers who made Arcane, especially since many of them have explicitly said they do not wish for their work to be used in Al training and content. They have poured hours and hours of work into creating something unique. The reason Arcane is such a good show and so visually stunning is because of the human work behind it. It's really, really essential to respect that if we want more shows like this in the future.

This is also very disheartening and off-putting to all artists and writers in the fandom. ChatGPT writes these "stories" by using OUR works, on Ao3, Tumblr, Wattpad... Works we spend so much time and care crafting for everyone. We get very little to absolutely no control to prevent our fics from being put into Al systems. Some of the best Arcane fanfiction writers on here have either privated all their work or deleted their entire accounts out of the fear of their work being taken for this exact purpose. I don't want that to be the future of our craft and fandom.

As a T.A. in university, I've seen many students use Al to write their works in their stead. They usually fall into two categories. Some are doing it simply out of a lack of awareness of how detrimental Al is to art and academic research, and how it's even hurting them in their studies and passions. Others are aware of this, and simply refuse to care, because they want to take the easiest way through life no matter how many people it screws over. I really want to believe you're part of that first category.

I'm not writing this for people to go on a witch hunt after you, especially if it is a genuine mistake. But it's something that needs to be addressed directly, because as a fandom, we need to stand together in being respectful of the original product and each other. I really hope you understand this a bit better now, and that you stop doing this in the future.

Thank you 🩷.

First kiss – Viktor x Reader (POV)

This is a fanfic I asked Chatgpt to write for me with a soft and kind Viktor, it was cute so I am sharing :)

---

The lab was quiet, the hum of machinery a soft backdrop as you and Viktor worked side by side. It was late—far later than you’d intended to stay—but neither of you seemed ready to leave.

Viktor leaned over his notes, muttering to himself in Zaunite as his pen scratched across the page. His concentration was magnetic, and you found yourself watching the way his fingers moved, the faint furrow in his brow.

“Staring won’t solve the equation,” he said suddenly, his tone laced with that dry humor that always made you smile.

You flushed, snapping your gaze back to the schematics in front of you. “Maybe not, but it’s entertaining.”

He glanced at you, a flicker of amusement softening his tired features. “Entertaining, hm? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You grinned. “You should.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on you longer than usual. There was a nervous energy in the air, a tension that neither of you had acknowledged out loud but that had been building for weeks.

When Viktor finally spoke, his voice was quieter, almost tentative. “You… You make this easier, you know. The work, the late nights. Everything.”

Your heart fluttered at the admission. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. I’m just here to make sure you don’t burn out.”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” he murmured, his golden eyes locking onto yours.

You didn’t know who moved first—maybe it was you, maybe it was him. But suddenly the space between you was gone, and his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow, hesitant at first, as if he was afraid you might pull away. His lips were soft, his touch cautious but steady. When his hand brushed your cheek, you leaned into him, letting him know it was okay.

It deepened naturally, his other hand resting lightly on your waist. He was careful, almost too careful, as though he thought you might break.

“Viktor,” you whispered against his lips, your hands moving to his shoulders. “You don’t have to hold back.”

He pulled away just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with something raw and vulnerable. “I don’t want to hurt you. Or disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” you said firmly, your fingers brushing along his jawline. “Not like this.”

His breath hitched, and for the first time, you saw a crack in his usual composure. “You are… so much kinder than I deserve.”

You silenced him with another kiss, this one more confident, more certain. His hands tightened slightly on your waist, drawing you closer. The world outside the lab ceased to exist; it was just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of something that had been building for so long.

When you finally broke apart, his forehead rested against yours, his breaths uneven. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted softly, his voice trembling.

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” you replied, your hand slipping into his.

And in that moment, you felt the first stirrings of something even deeper, something that neither of you had words for yet—but that didn’t need them.

——————-

Part II « First time » is out, link down bellow

[octoagentmiles]

[spaciebabie]

springtrap but he has claws and he slowwwwwly sinks them into youi while holdoing you close purring softly hes not eveb truing ta hurt you on ourpose justtrying ta keep you as close as possible and get you ta stay put for just a few more seconds oohohohhh ohhh hospital hostpital hospital. emergency room hospital

[ewwww-what]

I like to think that Gorgug hangs out with the seven the way Zelda hangs out with the bad kids. You know that horrible awkward feeling where you only know one person at a party? It’s like that but everyone else at the party is inseparable and they keep teasing you (in a good-natured way) with jokes you don’t understand, and all you can do is smile and nod and try so hard not to embarrass yourself in front of these people you perceive as way too cool for you.

[lizzybeeee]

Friendly reminder the Dragon Age Devs AMA is happening later today for all you Americans out there! Consider me very impressed that a majority of the questions with the greatest upvotes are quite critical of the game!

I linked it below!

[ihfmseatsoch]

ok ok ok so if i may be so bold as to request something, ive been enamored wiht the idea of an older, controlling, borderline abuse boyfriend jimmy, like he and reader live together on earth, and reader goes to college, while jimmy works physical jobs trying to support them both. he's a SHITTY person though, so hes jealous of any man the reader talks to, reads through their phone, makes sinde comments about their weight and appearance, and (im totally not projecting here) eventually pressures them into dropping out, for like his perfect little live in partner/gf fantasy sjdhasd feel free to do whatever with this, but this specific scenario has not left my head for days

WHEEE this was fun to write ^w^ i rushed this a bit but i just didnt want you to have to wait any longer... :p

—

Jimmy Zare x fem!reader

reader uses fem terms (girl, girlfriend)

genre: how do i categorize this.... fic that makes you feel bad or horny depending on how you handle verbal abuse lol

word count: 1.8k

warnings/content: age gap, domestic abuse, manipulation, arguing, fat shaming, several references to the readers body/appearance, jimmy being the biggest asshole oh my god i hate him (i want him so bad it makes me look stupid)

(is it bad that writing about jimmy yelling at me turns me on... WOAHHH who said that .....😰 also dont kill me for the weight shaming part IM A FAT GIRL !!!!!! i like when evil men are mean to me !!!!!! RAAAH)

—

"He's a good guy, he can actually be really sweet!"

That's a sentence you find yourself saying out of complete muscle memory at this point whenever someone questions why your boyfriend–... well, they question an awful lot about your boyfriend.

For example, why he's over twenty years your senior whilst you're still going to class on the weekdays. Why he doesn't allow you to see your friends, wear certain clothes, leave your apartment without him, and why he takes up so much space in your brain, completely distracting you from your own life and goals.

You've missed at least four assignments this semester alone. It's stupid, really. You thought you'd be done with obsessing and crying over boys after you graduated highschool. It's completely immature for a so-called adult like yourself, but then again, you're hardly into adulthood at all.

Jimmy, on the other hand, has a lot more life experience, many of those experiences negative. That might be why you've taken some form of pity on him, going so far as to move into his apartment so you can take care of him when you're not busy. He needs someone to make sure he doesn't fall off the deep end.

The thing is, it's become hard to fit him in your schedule, but whenever you're unable to make time for him after he comes home from work, that familiar scowl on his face indicating it was another shitty day, he throws a fit.

He'll accuse you of everything under the sun; Infidelity being the primary thing.

"You don't love me. There's someone else, isn't there? It's that one kid that asked you to help him 'study' last week, isn't it? No? Give me your fucking phone, then."

This is what you come home to everyday, so it's nothing new. In fact, you're pretty used to it by now. Though today, Jimmy seems particularly pissed.

"Where have you been?" He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, eyeing you up and down like he always does when he's about to grill you on something.

"Sorry..." You mutter, way too tired to deal with one of his moods again. "Traffic." You answer simply, not having enough energy to overexplain yourself like you normally do.

"Uh huh. Traffic." He mimics you in a way that already tells you he's not buying it. Great.

"...It's the truth." You shrink into yourself at the way he's looking at you. Contemptuous as always. You're in for another argument, it seems. A million, desperate pleas run through your mind;

'Please don't give me another lecture about how you're my only financial support, and how grateful I should be. Please don't ask to see my phone. Please don't tell me to drop out.'

But, of course, you can't actually change the outcome of this. You're gonna get yelled at. Belittled. Degraded.

"You're two hours late, and you're gonna tell me you were just stuck in traffic?" He pushes himself off the wall and walks towards you.

"You're never home when you're supposed to be, and when you are home, you're all tired and upset.” He pokes a finger into your shoulder, hard. "What do you think that looks like from my point of view?"

"I'm sorry." You rub your face, exasperated. God, you wish he would shut up sometimes. Sure, he can be amicable, but lately... he's been a raging dick. Yet, you can't help but cling to the memory of his good moments. "I'll try to make it back on time tomorrow."

"Yeah? And how many times have I heard that before?" He sneers, "You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"

The way he accuses you so confidently, so sure of himself... it's insulting. Does he really think that little of you? "College has been kicking my ass, Jim. You know that. I'm not hiding anything from you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, college this, college that. Always complaining about fuckin' college," He scoffs, his eyes stay narrowed, still glaring. "How about what I'm going through? You think I'm having a great time every day at work, hm?"

"No, I–" You stammer, hating the way he's turning this around to make himself the victim. Oh, woe is him, having to provide for himself and his girlfriend. How tortured he is. "I know, alright? I'm sorry. I just– what else do you expect me to do?"

"Be here. Like you're supposed to be. And I expect you to stop acting like I'm the bad guy for asking you to be a decent girlfriend."

Jimmy's voice raises slightly as he takes a step closer, towering over your sheepish figure. He nudges your shoulder again, even rougher this time.

"I'm busting my ass every day to put food on the table, and you can't even have the decency to show up on time, let alone look happy to see me?"

"I– I am happy to see you! I am, I'm just– you don't get it. I want to be here, but... I'm not even halfway through this semester, and–" You stumble over your words as you attempt, in vain, to defend yourself. It's not like he'll ever feel sympathy for you. It's always about what he wants. What makes him happy.

Jimmy rolls his eyes at your attempt to reason with him. It's as if he doesn't even register a word you say. "But what? What's more important to you, huh? Some stupid classes, or the guy who keeps a fuckin' roof over your head and feeds you? Be grateful, goddamn it." He snaps, grabbing your arms and giving them a forceful shake.

You flinch from being handled like you're not even a human being, much less one with feelings. "Stop, please, I'm– I am grateful, I really am..." You're not lying, either. To be honest, his guilt tripping works wonders on you. Are you really acting unappreciative? He wouldn't be this upset if you were in the right...

He seems unfazed by your frightened demeanor and continues to hold a firm grip on your arms. He looks you up and down, not even having to say anything for you to know he's judging you, as a girlfriend and person in general.

"Oh, you're grateful? Then maybe you should act like it for once." Jimmy gives your arms another firm shake, a harsh reminder of who's in charge here.

"I'm not asking much of you. I just want you to be here, and you can't even do that. Do you think I'm just gonna sit back and accept that bullshit?"

"No..." You shake your head, looking down at the ground in shame. Were you really that awful? You didn't want to be a bad partner, it's the last thing you ever wanted. If you could make eye contact without feeling guilty, you'd see Jimmy's face light up with satisfaction as he finally notices you're not even bothering to put up a fight anymore.

There's a condescending lilt to his tone as he speaks, "No one will ever love you like I do. You know that?"

You nod, knowing there has to be some truth to his claim. He takes care of you, doesn't he? He keeps a roof over your head, gives you money for groceries, and he's not always that unpleasant to be around...

He's a good boyfriend. You're the problem. You always are.

"Exactly."

The grip on your arms eases, moving them to place a hand on each of your shoulders, contrastingly gentle compared to his behavior only moments ago.

"You oughta thank your lucky stars you have a man like me who puts up with all your bullshit. You get that, right? How lucky you are to be with me?"

You know he's right. You were blessed with someone who still loves you, despite your many shortcomings. You're too fat, the acne on your face and body is repulsive, the way you do your makeup is weird... all of this being things Jimmy has told you directly. At least you have an honest boyfriend, isn't that what every girl wants?

He gives your shoulder a pat, like he's treating you like a small, petulant child. "You realize I could have literally any girl I want, right? Pretty, skinny, smart ones, even. But I chose you. Because I care about you."

He pauses, letting that sink in.

"But it would help if you'd actually put the effort in to look decent." He adds as an afterthought.

You've internalized every single snide remark he's thrown your way, reminded of them every single time you look in the mirror. Yet he still loves someone like you. Someone so difficult and embarrassing to be with.

"Jim, I don't... I don't know how I'm even gonna be able to free my schedule at all with school and stuff..." You mumble guiltily. You know he wants you to drop out, he's suggested it more times than you can count.

"That right there, that's why I'm frustrated, goddamn it," He says with an exacerbated sigh. He moves one hand from your shoulder to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Why don't you get it? Dropping out isn't the end of the world. Just quit and stay home. Done. Easy."

"It's not that easy... I want to get a good job and help out too, you know..."

It's true that you want to pull your weight around your shared home. With your combined income, it'd make everything easier. But... with how shitty college makes you feel, leaving you beaten down and tired by the end of the day...

You find yourself listening to Jimmy on this for once.

He can tell you're seriously contemplating it this time, which makes him feel... more in control. He's got you thinking and believing exactly what he wants you to. Soon, he'll be able to get you to obey him without another word from you.

The thought of having you as his subservient, stay at home girlfriend is more than appealing. It's his goal to mold you into what he wants you to be.

"Yeah, yeah, I get that, I know. But you're stressing yourself half to death, and for what? Some stupid degree? Listen to me, I'm not gonna ask you again. You're just creating problems that don't need to exist. Just quit. You'll have plenty of free time that you can spend with me."

You can't deny how tempting the idea is. Hesitantly, after several moments of pondering the hypotheticals and what-ifs, you speak up,

"...I guess... dropping out wouldn't hurt too much."

He perks up at that, barely being able to contain a delighted grin. You're actually putting him and his wants first, and acknowledging that he's right. You're doing as he says, without any of the usual arguing or excuses. He'll finally have his dream complaisant, docile girlfriend to come home to every night.

It only took a month or two to finally get you to cave. You'll be easier to control from now on. Hell, maybe you'll lose some weight with some free time on your hands, stop wearing that shitty makeup...

"Good girl," He says in a patronizing tone, like he's addressing a child, "That's what wanna hear."

God, you really hope this isn't a bad idea. Jimmy looks pleased for once, so...

This decision can't possibly ruin your future too badly, right?

—

[rawbin-hsr]

How life feels after I block the people who are obviously using AI to create their content

[myfandomhalf]

The amount of Dazai mischaracterization in this fandom is CRAZY

I’m not tagging this with a thing because I don’t feel like getting jumped today but whew I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of people finally realizing that Dazai doesn’t actually give a shit about Sigma past “this is a person -> this person became involved in a dangerous situation -> the right thing to do is my best to try to keep them alive” NOT “I must keep this person alive because they matter a lot to me personally and I would be very sad if they died or got hurt” 🥴 plus also the fact that Sigma is useful to him for information, I do think he would’ve tried to keep him alive even if he wasn’t useful, but NOT because he cares about him or has some sort of personal interest in his well being 💀 (he also would probably not have tried as hard if sigma wasn’t useful)

Like that’s so crazy to me do y’all even know who Dazai is 😭😭

Anyway like I was saying I was pleasantly surprised and then those people started showing up with their pitchforks and now I’m back to having very little faith