#if you reference something and who youre talking to is like Whatever you say bud :D youre fine

[unraveling-plot]

Okay listen. If you have passionate niche knowledge about a topic and want to talk about it or reference it to a person who is neither passionate nor knowledgeable about that topic, please. Please. explain what you are talking about.

Do not simply drop terms and go aha my bad if the person indicates they aren't following. If they ask a question, it means they are interested and want to understand. Moving on instead of answering will leave the person frustrated and confused.

[snekdood]

anyways if nick fartez and any of his skeevy fans are spying on me online I needja to know this: no one will ever love you or like you or fuck you and its all your fault bc your a nazi. the only way you'll ever get anything is if you rape someone and you and I both know that doesnt mean shit except how desperate you are to stick your dick in someone and how much you're willing to violate people who actively dislike you and would never be around you if it was their choice. it didn't hafta be this way but you decided being a ugly skeevy nazi was more important than anything, which is sad. honestly jump off a cliff, save yourself the time.

[o-sachi]

Record Store - Drabble for WinBre Week!

ᯓ you and kaji working together part-time at a local record store ᯓ character; kaji ren (wind breaker) ᯓ tags; fluff, college au, technically a budding workplace romance, has a 500 days of summer reference, afab reader, no y/n

[🐟]: for day 6 - part-time job prompt! @windbreakerweek

There was this guy you worked with at the local record store. He was pretty quiet and always wore headphones no matter what—which was fitting for a record store employee, you thought.

But that meant it was almost impossible to talk to him. So the register and the customer service were left in your care. He mostly handled the logistics like carrying the boxes containing new records and arranging them on the display shelves.

On his chest he wore the same employee nameplate that you did. It said "Hi I'm, Kaji," in black letters. You assumed he was the one who wrote his name with those asemic strokes. But all that mattered was that the nameplate served its purpose and everyone now knows his name is Kaji.

Unfortunately, that's about everything you know of this guy. Too bad he can't write his life's story or his favorite food on something he can plaster somewhere on his body.

Kaji was intriguing though. You found yourself stealing glances at him while you stood behind the counter and he'd be walking back-and-forth between the shelves and the storage room. The only time he'd talk to you was when he absolutely need to, but would you really consider conversations about work as ACTUAL conversations? No, not really.

It was a rather slow and peaceful day for the record store. To be fair, you've never experienced a busy day here. It was one of the many charms of this place. But you were bored out of your mind doing absolutely nothing at the register while Kaji was busy with rearranging the vinyls.

An idea popped into your head and you found yourself making way to the very same shelf he was at. Scanning his work, you realized he was arranging records by genre, so you started doing the same. He didn't protest—or maybe he really had no words for you—but he silently let you help him.

The music streaming through his headphones were loud enough that even as you stood a few inches away from him—you could hear it clearly.

"I love Deftones."

Kaji lifts one side of the headphones. "What?"

"I said I love Deftones."

He kept it lifted off his ear while he thought of something meaningful to say.

"You have good taste in music," you add, hoping that he could springboard from that.

"You like Deftones?"

"If like, you should stay down beneath~"

"Yeah, I love them."

Holy shit. Kaji was short-circuiting like an idiot. Normally, the news that someone listens to the same music as he does is nothing amazing. But finding out the pretty girl at his part-time job did? It had him feeling some type of way.

Safe to say, you caught his attention. Hook line and sinker. He removed the headphones from his ears completely, setting them slowly around his neck—telling you that he was ready to listen whatever else you had to say.

"That's cool," he stammered out.

For a long while, the only sound between the two of you were the sounds of the records being shuffled on the shelf. The tension was more palpable than ever.

"There's this music festival on Friday evening," you said. In all honesty, you wanted to continue the topic of music and that seemed relevant at the moment, but it was too late once you realized the implication of it.

He cranes his head to look at you, wanting to make sure he wasn't reading into it too much. But it was accidental and he did read into it too much. "Rock music?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Who's playing?"

You decided to double down on it. "Let's go together and see."

The slight shift in his expression was a dead giveaway that your words had an effect on him. "Eh... uh... like as co-workers?"

"Ouch, not even friends? Besides, who goes to events like that as co-workers?"

"So... what? Friends?"

Jeez. You sigh. "If I called it a date, would you mind? And no, not a friendly date."

What date isn't friendly—he thought. Hearing the word d-a-t-e, there was no way he'd misinterpret that. He was hoping your invitation was for something more than friends anyway.

"Sure, it's a date then."

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

just a girl 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible cheating, low self-esteem, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you move in with your sister when your luck turns for the worst.

Characters: Walter Marshall, possible Andy Barber

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Another day, another disappointment. 

You don't know what you’re doing wrong. You have experience, you just lack a few good references. As much as you tell yourself it isn't your fault your past job ended the way it did, you're doubting even that. 

You try to keep out of the way since your last run-in with your brother-in-law. It might be better to consider him your landlord. You go outside as much as you can when he’s home. Sometimes just to walk and forget, but that’s getting harder to do. 

That day, you need to talk to Andy. It’s intimidating like when you used to ask your father to do anything. With Rhiannon, it was one smile and she got her way, but who can ever say no to her? With you, it was always an interrogation. Why do you want to do that? Who with? As if you were lying or up to no good. 

Your trip to the bank helps you sort your nerves, at least a little bit. You have it all rehearsed in your head. And he can’t be unhappy when you’re doing exactly what he told you too. 

A sigh escapes you as you enter the suburban sprawl. Each flawless facade, each primped and preppy housewife, each giggling child reminds you of your displacement. You tuck your hands into your jean pockets, further discomfited by the blazing sun as your Queens of the Stone Age shirt absorbs the heat. 

You have your wired earbuds in, blasting the new album you’ve been anticipating for a year. You pre-ordered when you still had a full-time income. Another reminder of how low you’ve fallen. Money you would gladly take back as you’re not feeling the electric pop flow. 

As you turn a corner, you flinch and dodge out of the way as a black speck approaches from the other side of the street. You assume it’s some kid chasing an errant soccer ball. To your surprise, it’s someone much bigger than any rambunctious fifth grader. 

It’s him. That man with the curly hair. Like you, he’s in jeans. This heat is unforgiving to denim. He wears a dark shirt on top, a hint of chest hair poking out. You look around and turn to continue on your path. He must be running after someone else. 

He calls your name. You only recall his as he falls into step with you. Walter. Your catch your ear buds as they fall out. 

“Hey, you weren’t at the Crayton barbecue,” he comments, “I was lonely.” 

You look at him from the corner of your eye, hands firmly back in your pockets as you push your shoulders up. 

“I’m not much into those things either but my girl is friends with their girl,” he explains, “was thinking you might be into something more lowkey.” 

“Um,” you squint, mourning your lack of sunglasses, “I don’t think so. I’m working on moving out soon...” 

“Yeah, sure, but not tonight,” he insists. “Chicken burgers only, promise.” 

You glance over at him. He’s taunting you. 

“I didn’t... I wasn’t... my sister told me to--” 

“Oh, so should I ask her if you should come over for a beer?” He challenges. 

“What?” You frown, “beer, I don’t drink.” 

“Got it, I have near beers you can have. Or I’ll have a beer and you can have ginger ale,” he suggests as he puts a hand up, “whatever you like.” 

You mull his invitation. You gnaw on your lip as you near the corner by your sister’s house. He doesn’t let up, in lockstep with you until you reach the gate. You stop with your hand on the white picket. He stands beside you. 

“Sorry but... why?” 

He scoffs, “I like your style. We have similar music taste. I don’t know. Like I said, I’m bored. Not a lot of people around here are into grunge. Even dudes my age prefer Seger to Cobain.” 

You were never a Nirvana cultist. You appreciate them but you prefer Grohl in his second era. You tap your fingertips on the wooden slat and face him. 

“I don’t know,” you utter and peek back at the house. It might be good to get out but this man is a stranger. Still, look at this place. This is the very picture of affluence. Not like he’s asking you back to some dingy alleyway. “I’d hate to trouble you.” 

“Hah,” he puts his hands on his hips, “I’m the one asking. You think I would if it was trouble? Besides, I see through the monochrome, you’re anything but trouble.” 

You can’t help the slant in your lips. Yep. That’s you. Boring. Dull. Like wallpaper. 

“Marshall,” a rocky growl greets from the front porch. You glance over as Andy emerges, in a yellow short-sleeved button up and khakis.  

“Barber,” Walter answers in a flat tone. 

“Need something?” Andy strides down the paved walkway, between the tulips and daisies your sister fawns over. 

“Not from you,” Walter retorts with a smirk, “talking to her.” 

“And why’s that?” 

You sense the tension. You glance between the men as they stare each other down. You shrink between them, trapped at the gate. 

“Her business, not yours,” Walter scoffs, “no client privilege here, bud, now we’re having a chat.” 

“Outside my house?” Andy sneers 

The other man shakes his head and ignores him, turning his back to the fence, “anyway, six-thirty? I’ll come by to get you for that beer.” 

You can’t find your voice to disagree as you’re choked by thick air, the heat turning stolid in their obvious spite for each other. Walter glances over his shoulder nods at Andy before he turns to stride off. You cough and watch him go. 

The gate jolts out of your grasp as Andy pulls it open from the other side. You let go and falter before you step through. You shy away as he stands, a hand on one hip, the other on the gate door. He swings it shut with a snap. 

“You’re hanging out with Marshall?” He asks. 

“He... asked,” you face him, bouncing indecisively on the walk, “er, Andy, actually, I wanted to talk--” 

“You should tell him to fuck off,” Andy interrupts. 

“Oh?” 

“Trust me. I work with the jackass.” 

“You do?” You wonder. 

“Sometimes. At the precinct,” he sniffs and turns to you, “stubborn asshole.” 

“Right, well, I didn’t... I don’t...” 

“Guess I shouldn’t complain if it gets you out of my hair,” he snorts. 

“Andy, er,” you grab your satchel and unzip the top, “I got my unemployment so... here.” You hold out the envelope of bills. It’s all you have left after paying for your most basic expenses, “for groceries and whatever.” 

“And whatever?” He takes the envelope with a skeptical look, “sure.” 

You stand in silence. You thought he’d have a different reaction. Maybe not elated but maybe a thanks? You don’t know. He hates you, just like everyone else. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I... I don’t want to be in the way.” 

“You should’ve told her no. Rhiannon... she’s too nice for her own good. Even to her family and you all just walk all over her.” 

You furrow your brow, “I don’t... I wouldn’t--” 

“Save it,” he rolls his eyes and slips the envelope into his pocket, “that’ll do for one month, but you’ve been here two.” 

“Uh, yeah,” you quaver, breathless. Not good enough. Never good enough. 

“You know, acting pathetic, it’s not endearing. Maybe to Rhi, but not me.” 

“I’m sorry--” 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he taunts, “alright, noted. Have fun with Marshall.” He snickers, “bit of advice, don’t put out after one beer, try to make him work for it. Hell, maybe if he does, you could learn a lesson or two about work.” 

Your eyes sting and you swallow tightly. You turn to step past him and he blocks you with his arm. You back up and look him in the face. Unlike Rhiannon, you can do that. She always looks ridiculous next to him. 

“Or maybe, if you can get some money out of it...” he looks you up and down and you hug yourself defensively. “Ah, nah,” his eyes drift past you, towards the street, “I know that bastard. He’s just tryna get to me.” He laughs darkly and shakes his head, “too bad I don’t give a shit.” He turns his glare back on you, “do me a favour, stay a bit later. I’d like some privacy with my wife.” 

You drop your eyes meekly and nod, “yeah, I’ll try. Sorry, again.” 

He inhales and lets it out heavy. He slowly moves out of your way, “it’s weird,” he says as you move past him, “sometimes, you actually do look like her sister,” he comments as your pace picks up, “like her but not pretty.” 

You continue inside without a response. You don’t know why he has to take it there. Why he can’t just take his win and be happy? Or at least content.

You remember before the wedding, when he found you, told you to stay in the back for photos. You apologised then too, even if he was being mean. It doesn’t matter, you’re always wrong. 

[butwhatifidothis]

Thanks for the catch Raxy boy! I have now made sure that the two names I censored were better differentiated!

Since you're looking over my blog anyway and care so much about me talkin' about your buddies, can you finally directly address all the horrible shit Shandale has said?

Like this?

Saying that the entirety of a race should be subjugated and stripped of their rights because of the (MADE UP) actions of some of them? I've talked about this clearly horrible example of Shandale's rhetoric before but you seem to have missed it! So here it is again for you since you're combing through my blog again <3

And here's the entire conversation that the person I'll refer to as White - who you forgot to censor, by the way, you left their name unedited in that second screenshot, fixed that for you in this post but you might wanna go do something about that in yours - had with deathbirby (as much as it can be gleaned from the deleted messages):

See how White is seemingly having a conversation with themselves, especially in the bottom portion of the last screenshot? That'd be because they were talking very cordially with deathbirby about birds - not even talking about 3H!

But then White asks deathbirby why they were in the discord... and they have a cordial - if very strange and telling - response to whatever was said:

How weird! Even though deathbirby has done nothing in the server to warrant any action from mods, White seems pretty convinced that deathbirby is going to be kicked... just because they "are part of [the] group [the discord's] sorta 'beefing' with" and no other reason! Not for any argument they were trying to start up, since again - literally only White was talking to them! And they were literally only talking about birds! At best Shandale dropped two bird pictures! No shit was started at all! But the discord seems to have that bad of a tribalism problem that literally anyone who associates with The Wrong People are automatically deemed undesirables by the people in charge, and White already expects deathbirby to get banned because of it - totally not worrying at all!

Then out of nowhere, here comes another mod and Shandale!

Accusing deathbirby of "bringing tumblr bs" but, hm... they were just talking about birds to White; seems like they just wanted talk to me! At best they wanted to have a discussion about something, and it probably DID relate to something about 3H, but given White's responses deathbirby was far from "starting shit" about anything - wonder where Wonder got that idea from?

Hey, when does it say that post was made? October 29th? What "tumblr bs" was going on at that time that deathbirby had on their blog-

Oh. Ohhhh. The "tumblr bs" was my first post pointing out Shandale's proclivity to use genocide apologetics and upholding genociders as liberators for 3H - and the first reblog I did for that post going further into Shandale's posts, if we wanna go for the exact day. So deathbirby not taking keen to Shandale's racist rhetoric gets dubbed "tumblr bs," and then, oops!

They're "stirring shit up" now, they're "acting like an innocent party" now, they're using "bad faith arguments" and "outright slander" now. Looking at messages said by Shandale and still held by Shandale which Shandale stubbornly defended and Shandale openly deleted messages over is bad faith, and deathbirby gets banned for it. With White still wanting deathbirby to talk despite all that! Despite Wonder and Shandale accusing deathbirby of starting shit! Almost like... White didn't think deathbirby was trying to start shit! Probably because nothing shows deathbirby was trying to start shit!

Almost like you, Raxy, only insist that because you think anyone you dislike - or is around people you dislike - couldn't possibly want to have a cordial conversation with you and your buds! Almost like that's because you and a lot of your buddies would never have a cordial conversation with anyone who disagrees with you! Funny how that all seems to click together!

Oh, and just cuz I'm nice like that: when you say that someone "tried to start shit," that's commonly understood to mean that that person was trying to start an argument of some kind - whether a "debate" argument or a, oh, would you look at that, "trying to start shit" argument! Hope that helps <3

[tolietpaperdreams]

Hysteria Chp 4 (Hartbreak)

Okay fine! Five parts it is, but that’s it, I have too many other ideas I need to write lol. Plus I really like the ending I have planned for this story.

Comments n stuff are always appreciated, hope you enjoy! K here’s your smut byyyyeeee <3

The time passed slowly. It always did whenever Bret needed to keep his mind occupied. He trained for an extra hour every day, he spent more time with his friends. Anything to shut up the noise in his head, but when it came time for him to lie down at night, there was always that empty space.

Granted, it hadn't been very long. Maybe two weeks since the fight with Shawn, but that didn't change how it affected him.

The most he'd seen of the blonde was backstage or in the locker room. He wanted to talk to him, tried to talk to him, but every time there seemed to be a different excuse. Shawn would need to go warm up or he couldn't talk because he had a meeting. The worst was when he approached Shawn in the locker room one day only to have Hunter step in his path and give him an ‘eat shit’ look.

They still had to work together; the pay-per-view was coming up fast and they needed to sort out their match. But that couldn't happen unless Shawn was willing to talk to him.

Bret truly thought about begging. He considered finding Shawn’s hotel room and pleading on his hands and knees for just a second of his time, but that would be ridiculous. He thought about the Orchids and the old lady who said they meant strength and unity, but Bret had never felt more alone.

It all seemed like a load of bullshit now, but Bret wasn't so easily deterred. He resisted the urge to go back to his old ways of sticking his head down and keeping his nose to the grind, but there wasn’t much else he could focus on besides work.

Owen, Jim, and Davey had forgiven him for being so caught up in everything that he’d essentially abandoned them. Bret would make sure he never lost sight of how important they were in his life again. They also encouraged him to win back Shawn’s affection.

The problem was that he had no idea where to start. Approaching Shawn directly hadn’t worked, so now what? Should he wait for the blonde to come to him? Or was there a more discreet option?

“You could give him a note,” Jim offered after training one day.

“We’re not in middle school Jim, a note would be useless,” Bret disregarded that information as he wiped the sweat off his face with a towel.

“He could be onto something,” Davey added, unlacing his boots, “That way Shawn’s dogs won’t get in your way.”

Davey referring to Hunter and the other guys as ‘Shawn’s dogs’ didn't really sit right with Bret, but he let the insult roll off his shoulders.

“What would I even write?” He did his best to keep an open mind.

“Ask him out,” Owen finally chimed in, “You guys never even went on a real date before you dived head-first into whatever it was that you guys were doing.”

That was a good point. He and Shawn had moved so fast that Bret never once thought to take him out. Shawn probably wanted to be wined and dined; he wanted to feel worth something, and Bret had neglected that part of their budding relationship. He didn't even know what kind of restaurant to take him to.

“I don't know, I've never-”

Owen cut him off, “Stop hesitating. Do you want Shawn back or not? You need to show him he’s worth it.”

That was enough encouragement for Bret to start brainstorming.

***

“What if he says no?” Bret adjusted his black button-down shirt in the mirror; he felt like he looked crazy but Owen insisted he dress nice.

“He won’t,” His little brother rolled his eyes as he sat on the hotel bed.

Bret took the advice of his brother and friends and decided to send Shawn a note. Through some networking the night prior, he was able to find what hotel room the other man was staying in and slid the note under the door like a lovesick teenager. It was a simple note, maybe too simple. All it said was, ‘Dinner, tomorrow? -Bret. RM 102.’

There were no flowers or extravagant gifts; it was just Bret in a button-down that hugged his chest a little too tight and a desperate plea for Shawn to open back up.

“I didn't even give him a time,” Bret was so focused on the semantics of everything that he was starting to sweat. What if Shawn just didn't show up or never even noticed the note in the first place? What if Hunter or one of the other guys got to it first and trashed it? The collar around his throat was starting to feel tight.

“Will you relax? He’ll show up,” Owen said nonchalantly as he stood to look Bret over once or twice.

All he wanted was a chance to show Shawn that he wasn't a screw-up. He’d dress nice, wear uncomfortable clothes, and buy all the stupid Orchids in the world if it gave him the opportunity to tell Shawn he wanted the real thing too.

“I should do one of those grand gesture things like they do in the movies,” Bret started to fidget with the shirt collar.

“You definitely should not,” Owen grabbed Bret’s hands and pushed them down to his side, so he’d stop fidgeting, “Relax, dude. It’s just Shawn.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘just’ Shawn,” Bret emphasized to his brother, “He’s- y’know… he's Shawn.”

Owen gave him a look that must have been a mixture of disgust and confusion, “You’re weird.”

Bret couldn't do anything besides laugh at Owen’s remark; he was so grateful for his brother’s help but of course, he’d have to pay the price at the same time.

After making sure Bret looked his best and was as emotionally ready as he could be, Owen left. He told Bret to wait for half an hour and call him if Shawn never showed. He couldn't help but feel like he’d be calling his little brother sooner rather than later.

Again, the time passed slowly. Bret was so wound up he was starting to sweat. He didn't know what he would say to Shawn if he even showed up.

The minutes felt like hours before finally, at the twenty-minute mark, there was a soft knock on the door.

Bret stood and tried to flatten his button-down that got crinkled from him being hunched over on the couch. He was already so uncomfortable, but if this was what it took, he’d do it.

He walked over to the door and took a deep breath before opening it. Shawn stood there with a nervous look on his face. The blonde wore a button-down of his own with nice jeans and boots, a gold necklace laid around his neck, and his hair was styled down.

Bret tried to speak, but he was caught ogling before he could get a word out.

“What?” Shawn crossed his arms and did his best to convey annoyance even though his cheeks were turning pink, “Are you gonna let me in?”

“Yeah, of course,” Bret said, moving out of the way.

He wasn't entirely sure how to greet Shawn. Obviously, he'd have to earn a kiss, but would a hug be too much? He decided at the moment to play it safe and let Shawn take the lead.

“You look nice,” Bret turned, following Shawn into the room.

The jeans Shawn wore hugged his ass perfectly and Bret had to remind himself to breathe.

“I know,” The blonde said curtly and leaned against the nearby table.

If Shawn wanted to have an attitude that was fine, Bret could handle that. If anything, it was a good sign because at least Shawn was talking to him.

“Right,” Bret figured the best thing to do would be to push through the awkwardness, “Thanks for coming.”

Shawn huffed and rolled his eyes, “What is this? An interview? Are you taking me to dinner or what?”

So much for the stoic apology act Bret had planned, “Shawn, I would love to, but you're already making it difficult.”

“You invite me out over a note after we haven't spoken in weeks and you just expect me to be cool about it?” Shawn spat back.

“I want to fix this,” Bret tried as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Then why did it take you so long?”

“Because you wouldn't talk to me!”

“You hardly tried!”

They were suddenly nose to nose, neither man willing to step down.

“I did try,” Bret grabbed the front of Shawn’s shirt, “More than you think.”

“You should have sent that note weeks ago,” Shawn’s voice softened.

Bret could finally feel how close they were. Shawn still leaned against the table, hands clutching the edge. Bret could feel the blonde’s breath against his own and once Shawn’s gaze met his, he knew there would be no fancy dinner tonight.

Their lips met in a frenzy, Shawn essentially throwing himself at Bret. It was hungry and urgent like they needed each other to breathe. Shawn moaned into Bret’s mouth as he pulled the blonde’s hips flush with his own.

The feeling of having Shawn back in his arms again overtook anything he originally planned to say or do. The smell of Shawn’s cologne overwhelmed his senses as he kissed and sucked bruises into his neck and collarbone; he’d never get enough of it.

The distance had been agonizing, and Bret was more than willing to make up for it.

“Fucking jerk,” Shawn grunted as he sunk a hand into Bret’s hair and pulled him back.

Bret winced slightly at the pain before letting out, “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

“God, yes,” Shawn yanked him in for another kiss.

He bit at Bret’s lower lip hard enough to make him whine at the pain before Shawn pushed him back onto the bed. Bret didn't see the more dominant side of Shawn very often, but he couldn't complain. They climbed to the top of the bed, Shawn straddling Bret’s lap.

The kisses they shared were hungry and wet as they both tried to hastily discard their shirts. Shawn ground his hips against Bret’s, both groaning at the feeling of their still-clothed erections against each other.

Bret needed to say something, but Shawn was busy devouring his mouth so he turned his head to the side, “Shawn,” he could barely get out, the blonde having moved down to kiss his chest.

Shawn took a nipple into his mouth causing Bret to cry out. He bit and sucked at both of them until they were pert and swollen then sat back and allowed both of them to catch their breath.

“What is it?” He panted, a smug look plastered on his face.

The way Shawn’s wavy hair laid past his shoulders was a sight to behold - the way his chest heaved and how he looked down at Bret, those gorgeous blue eyes, and the curves of his muscles - Shawn’s body was intoxicating.

“I need to see you,” Bret breathed, hands sliding up Shawn’s thighs to grab his hips.

Shawn didn’t say anything for a moment, a small smile grew on his face as the words sunk in.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Bret added, “I've never felt like this before.”

It was a declaration of his own. Shawn made him feel utterly insane, but in the time their relationship had grown, he’d never been happier. The highs were so high and the lows were so low, but if it was for Shawn, he’d go through hell.

“I was so wrong about everything-”

Shawn shut him up with a kiss, this one softer. They weren't good with words, but they could communicate through their bodies. Bret didn't know if he was entirely forgiven, but it seemed like he was off to a good enough start.

Placing soft kisses along Bret’s jawline, Shawn reached down and began to undo his jeans. Soon they were discarded along with Bret’s and neither was denied full access any longer. Shawn sank down, his tongue tracing from Bret’s neck to his nape as fingers teased his already sensitive nipples.

Bret inhaled sharply, knowing his reaction would only encourage Shawn to continue, but he was saved once Shawn brought his hands down, wrapped one around Bret’s cock, and licked from base to tip. Bret let out a groan as soon as Shawn took him all the way into his mouth and threaded a hand into the blonde’s hair.

“So gorgeous,” He breathed, meeting those icy blue eyes with his own.

It was controlled and slow at first, Shawn bobbing his head in time with the stroke of his hand. The warmth and wetness of his mouth on Bret’s cock was almost too much and he had to use all his self-control in order not to buck his hips into Shawn’s mouth.

Tightening the hand in the blonde’s hair, Bret talked him through it, “That’s it, baby.”

Shawn moaned around Bret’s length and hallowed out his cheeks to create more friction. Bret knew he wouldn't last long with the type of head Shawn gave and he didn't want to end the fun before it even started.

He gave Shawn’s hair a slight tug so he would pull off and the blonde did so without hesitation; a long string of spit still connected the tip to Shawn’s swollen lips.

“Don’t move,” Shawn exhaled and climbed up to straddle Bret’s thighs again, “I wanna ride you.”

Who was he to deny Shawn that right? Bret reached up to pull the blonde down for a searing kiss.

They stayed like that for a moment before Shawn pulled away briefly to ask, “Do you still have everything?”

Bret knew that Shawn was referring to condoms and lube; he shook his head, “I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

He playfully smacked at Bret’s chest, “You’re lucky I'm prepared.”

He quickly hopped off the bed and went searching for his jeans.

“Wait,” Bret furrowed his brow, watching Shawn dig through his pockets, “You brought condoms and lube even though you were pissed at me?”

Shrugging, Shawn climbed back onto the bed and back onto Bret after finding what he was looking for, “I only bought them after I found your note. Knew you’d say all the right things,” He winked.

Bret couldn't help the chuckle that he let out as he ran his hands up Shawn’s toned thighs, “I haven't said much of anything.”

“Will fix that later,” Shawn set aside the condom and handed Bret the lube.

A question wracked his mind, one he wasn't sure Shawn was ready to hear yet, but now was as good as any time, “What if we ditch the condom?”

“That depends,” Shawn watched Bret spread lube on his fingers, “Who else are you fucking?”

The fact that Shawn said ‘who else’ instead of asking if there was ‘anyone else’ struck a chord with Bret. He hadn't made his intentions with Shawn clear enough.

Using his free hand, Bret urged Shawn forward slightly by the hip so he could have easier access. He traced a lubed finger over Shawn’s entrance, making the blonde inhale sharply and dig his fingers into Bret’s chest.

“You know very well,” Bret used his other hand to palm at Shawn’s ass, adding a smack for emphasis, “That I only have eyes for you.” He sunk the first finger in.

Shawn let out a whine and pushed back with his hips, already wanting more, “That- Ah! Doesn't answer the question-”

Bret always loved the way Shawn took his fingers so eagerly, but it did make it increasingly more difficult to restrain himself.

“No one else has even crossed my mind,” He cooed, adding another finger.

“Nnnh- Bret I can't take it,” Shawn whined, his cock hard and dripping pre-cum, “I need it.”

Normally, Bret would use at least three fingers to prep, but Shawn’s eagerness put that concern at ease.

“You sure?” Bret didn't want to hurt him.

“Yes-” Shawn clenched his eyes shut, “Now, Bret. Please-”

With that, Bret removed his fingers and urged Shawn to sit up on his knees higher. He slicked himself up with the leftover lube from his fingers and did his best to line himself up.

Shawn pushed his hips back, taking in the tip of Bret’s cock. As he slowly sank fully onto it, they both groaned at the delicious feeling. It felt even better knowing there was no barrier between them now, Bret could fully experience Shawn.

With his chest heaving as he adjusted to the feeling of being full, Shawn let out, “There hasn't been anyone else,” He paused for a moment, “I don't want anyone else-”

Bret reached up and traced a thumb across Shawn’s jaw, “Me neither.”

He pulled Shawn down into a kiss; it was settled. Bret couldn't even fathom the thought of someone else. Ever since that first kiss at the bar, as rushed and panicked as it was, Shawn had grabbed Bret’s heart and ran with it. Maybe even before then, but he was just too blind to see.

Finally, after sitting back, Shawn started to move his hips.

“God, Shawn…” Bret dug his fingers into the blonde’s hips, holding himself back from thrusting up into him, “You feel so good.”

It felt so different with no condom, physically and emotionally. There was a new trust that hadn’t been there before, one that said ‘I’m yours and you're mine.’

Shawn moved at an agonizing pace, his hips rocking forward and back in order to take Bret fully. It wasn't slow, but it was a more intimate pace.

Shawn grabbed Bret’s wrists and pinned them over his head as he rode him, fully taking control.

“Fuck-” Bret groaned. He wanted nothing more than to flip positions and fuck Shawn into the mattress but it wasn't his turn. Shawn was running things now.

“What is it?” Shawn breathed as he continued his movements, “Tell me what you want.”

It was killing him, he wanted to touch Shawn- wanted to run his hands all over his skin- to feel how the blonde shivered under his touch. He pushed against Shawn’s grip weakly, his brain too foggy to do much about it. Bret wouldn't last much longer.

Shawn continued his onslaught, grinding his hips quicker, “C’mon baby, tell me what you want.”

Bret couldn't help the moan that escaped his throat before he panted, “Please Shawn-”

The moment Shawn let go of his wrists, Bret pulled the blonde down to his level; one hand gripping the back of his neck and the other squeezing a hip so hard it would probably leave bruises. Bret fucked Shawn from underneath at a brutal pace.

Shawn let out a series of cries, each moan in time with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Bret's thrusts were sharp and brutal but quickly became erratic as he felt the heat pooling in his gut.

“Don’t stop- don’t stop-” Shawn whined, his own release building up.

Bret managed to keep Shawn’s request, thrusting a few more times before he couldn't hold back his orgasm. He stalled his hips as he came, pulling Shawn into a hard kiss.

Before he could come down from the moment, Bret flipped Shawn onto his back, the blonde letting out a small yelp as he did so. Bret smoothly pulled out and leaned down to take Shawn into his mouth.

It didn't take long for Shawn to cum, the feeling of Bret’s mouth around him was just enough to bring him over the edge. Shawn bucked his hips as he came and Bret did his best to take him deeper into his mouth before swallowing. He pulled off and licked Shawn’s cock from base to tip, relishing in the sight of him shivering at the overstimulation.

Shawn caught his breath for a moment before speaking, “We should fight more often.”

Bret chuckled and laid his head on Shawn’s thigh, “I think we can have good sex without the fighting.”

It was quiet for a moment, both parties basking in the afterglow of makeup sex. A tension had been lifted between them, but there was still a small air of uncertainty. Bret almost got up to get a towel and help Shawn get cleaned up, but was stopped for the time being.

Shawn reached down and gently cupped Bret’s cheek, “I missed you.”

Such tender words. Something Bret still needed to work on, but it seemed like Shawn was willing to try. He placed a kiss on Shawn’s thigh before climbing to the top of the bed and taking him into his arms.

“I missed you, too,” Bret sighed contentedly and inhaled the scent of Shawn’s hair while he nuzzled into Bret’s chest.

Shawn got comfortable and started playing with the hairs of Bret’s happy trail, “Owen told me you cried,” He said nonchalantly, “A couple weeks ago.”

Bret huffed, a small trigger of annoyance came and went. He was too tired to get upset, albeit a little embarrassed, “Are you always in cahoots with my brother?”

“Him and Hunter are good buddies,” Shawn turned his head to look at Bret, “I’m surprised you hadn't noticed.”

He hadn’t, “Guess I was too caught up,” Bret traced a finger up and down Shawn’s shoulder.

“About Hunter,” Shawn started, pausing briefly to see Bret’s reaction.

He didn't really want to talk about Hunter right after sex, but Bret made a promise to himself that tonight he would fix what he could in his relationship with Shawn.

“Go on,” He tried not to sound on edge.

“You’re not actually jealous of him, are you?” Shawn questioned.

Bret exhaled before answering, “I don't really think so. I think I was just looking for a reason to be mad,” He paused for a moment, making sure there was eye contact, “And I don't want to be with anyone else, Shawn.”

He wanted Shawn to understand that there was no one else for him and that Shawn would never have to worry about anyone else. Bret also knew that he was never truly jealous of Hunter- he was jealous of the bond Shawn had with him- the trust that he put into Hunter. Bret wanted that trust put in himself as well.

“Even though I drive you crazy?” A sly smile crept onto Shawn’s face.

“If you make me crazy, then I don't ever want to be sane.”

***

It was crunch time. There was only a week left before the pay-per-view and Bret needed to ramp up his training. He was glad that he and Shawn had made up, even though there were still some unspoken hiccups they hadn't discussed. Bret hadn't yet apologized for being unwilling to drop the belt to Shawn all those weeks ago.

There was only so much that words could do, though. Bret knew the best way to prove that he thought Shawn would be a great champion, was to put him over. He’d done it before with others, he could do it again. This time, tenfold.

“You’re getting up slower, go again,” Jim coached, diligently.

Bret tried not to wince as he got up and ran the ropes again before throwing himself into a breakfall. It was the most basic of wrestling skills, but it was one that had to be maintained. He was sweaty and his heart rate was through the roof; they’d been at it for over thirty minutes.

The work never stopped. Even though he finally had a few days at home before hitting the road again, he couldn’t lose sight of the end goal. That’s how Bret ended up training on a rest day at his in-home ring in the basement; it was his very own version of The Dungeon.

Shawn offered to come back to Calgary with him, but Bret insisted he go home and rest. They both had time off after the pay-per-view and Bret promised to show Shawn his home after. As excited as he was for that, it felt very far away. Bret’s main focus was making sure he performed well enough to make sure Shawn looked good in their match.

“C’mon Bret, don’t lose focus,” Jim said as he leaned against the turnbuckle, watching Bret run from one end of the ring to the other.

He kept going for what felt like forever, his lungs were burning and his body ached, but it was a feeling he loved. After that, they ran drills and talked through the match. With Shawn, Bret was able to think on the fly, but he didn’t want to do that for such a big match so they agreed on certain big spots to practice while at home.

Jim did his best to fill in for Shawn, but with his big size, there were just some things they couldn’t practice together.

”Tell me how you did it,” Jim nudged Bret in the ribs as he wiped the sweat off his face with a rag.

“Did what?” Bret huffed, rubbing the area where Jim had jabbed him. His brother-in-law never realized his own strength.

”How an ugly mug like you managed to snag someone like the Heartbreak Kid?” Jim teased.

Bret scoffed as he grabbed a nearby water bottle, “Says you, you look like a bulldog.”

Jim shrugged, “It got me your sister.”

Bret didn’t get the chance to jab back because his phone started to ring from upstairs.

”You’re so lucky,” He said, pointing a menacing finger in Jim’s direction as he got out of the ring and ran up the stairs.

He barely made it to the phone in his kitchen before it stopped ringing.

”Hello?”

There was a beautiful raspy voice on the other line, “Hey, Bret.”

His knees could buckle every time he heard Shawn say his name.

“Everything okay?” He wasn’t expecting Shawn to call.

”Yeah everything’s fine, just thinking about the match.”

Bret leaned against the counter, figuring he might be there for a minute.

”Me too, you nervous?” He asked.

Shawn scoffed, “No, I’ve never been nervous a day in my life.”

It was very obvious that Shawn was mortified, but Bret knew now wasn’t the time to tease him, “You’re going to do great, baby.”

“We’re gonna do great,” Shawn corrected.

”Yes, of course,” Bret took a moment to think about his words, “You’re going to be an incredible champion.”

He was met with silence on the other line.

”I mean it,” Bret continued, hoping he hadn’t scared Shawn, “You were meant for this.”

“Bret, can I tell you something?” Shawn’s voice had gotten quieter.

“Of course,” Bret mentally prepared himself for the worst.

There was a longer stretch of silence. Bret could feel his palms starting to sweat at the anticipation. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Shawn spoke, “I think I’m in love with you.”

It was a good thing after all, wasn’t it? Bret felt his mouth go dry, unsure how to respond he immediately began to stumble over his words, “I- um- Shawn that’s-“

”It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know, it’s been eating at me. I’ll see you in a few days, okay?” Shawn sounded like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Before Bret could respond, the line clicked.

[lord-shitbox]

more aisposting [demo spoilers]

while he's VERY open about a lot of things (about the seaspring & himself—things related to the groupmind & Ocudeus, "i was lonely," "people get honest when they're afraid" + "I'll buy you a drink for scaring you") he is very emotionally distant/closed off ("i only have one friend" reports man surrounded by people who are friendly with him & hang out with him + "don't worry, you'll never have to talk about your feelings" uquiz result description).

In regards to him & Vere, he and Vere are close and he likes Vere ("friends with benefits, but got too attached") but doesn't trust him emotionally (see above "only one friend"). In contrast, Ais is "the only person Vere's shown his true face to"— meaning Vere trusts him highly. given this I would love to explore how their relationship could develop, in both good & bad ways.

here's where i devolve into a stream of thoughts:

•"dislikes: isolation" & gets lonely easily -> why he's got so many pets -> also BUDDY IT'S YOUR ATTACHMENT ISSUES

•something about Mr Thing-With-Loneliness being the local Groupmind Guy. "One big happy family all in your head" hmm

•something about Mr Thing with Loneliness and eye imagery. his pact buddy is EyeGod ON PURPOSE...... connection vs perceiving /being perceived... hmm.

•also minor sidenote hes got "only One Friend in his head" (he is not a part of the Big Happy Family groupmind & retains his individuality)..... i think abt his relation to the groupmind itself a lot. They seem to be aware of his location at any given time, but don't know very much about him? ("ais is a gang leader" says groupmind lady on the stairs VS "gang took a walk" quoth mr all alone now....)

•I personally feel that in that situation he's referring to his old gang —the one that is no longer with him— because his expression when he delivers the line is a fake smile. it appears cordial and masks discomfort or discontent, & i think whatever happened in his past is a loaded subject for him

•@ the bar scene he says "he got lonely" so he went to hang out with Vere and Leander specifically.. theyre his (relatively speaking.) best buds

•he enjoys Kuras's company but doesn't go to hang out with him when he's lonely, because he's aware of Kuras's emotional distancing methods (kuras also doesn't drink, which i think could be related to him potentially not needing food or drink / just not liking alcohol / refraining from drunken social activities)

•in my brain he's such a dog boy. relevant character traits i see in him as a result include loyalty (i feel that, whatever happened with his Old Gang, he didn't just up and leave them) and liking biting. thanks

[swollenwithangst]

i have a story to share with everybody (if you'd like to listen).

to begin, my workplace is fairly lax about personal expression so long as its not overtly offensive/religious/political. so that means i can be my full, well... alternative(?) self as i please. this last week, i went to work with dark makeup, a black sweater, black pants, docs. whole shabang. emo. grunge. whatever. definitely not your northwest cowboy though. and for reference, i work at an family entertainment place (essentially you must purchase a ticket for admission, theres a gift shop, and so on). on that day i went to work all dressed up, i had two darling, budding alternative kids compliment me and each time i think about them, i well up with tears.

the first was maybe 14, max. with presumably her family who were all of the oh-so common diesel-truck cowboys that make up the majority of residents in my area. i was checking them all in and this angel turns and says to me as i'm finishing their transaction, "you're beautiful." to which a) i about threw up. she had such a look of adoration in her eyes, i was a bit overwhelmed. it reminded me of when i first stepped into a hot topic and realized that my friends and i weren't the only ones (tbf, i had limited internet access for a long while, i didnt know there was more of us), and b) i in turn complimented her back, telling her i thought she was gorgeous. she beamed so graciously at me, it made me so happy.

the second in that same day was from less of a "yeehaw" family but more of a, well, city? area? they were so painfully average that i forgot most of their details if i'm being honest. their daughter though, who i at first took for being 15-17, was wearing a three cheers shirt, so of course i had to compliment her. she lit up at that and thanked me, and they all went on their way to enjoy the day.

for about an hour, i helped guests and went about my business, before she approached me again (🥹���️) and promptly asked, "is your heart in ohio?" ...now before anyone comes for me, my brain is a taco shell that got abandoned in the oil. it's beyond fried. i blanked on what to say. so i just kinda chuckled and said, "i know i've heard that before, and what it's from, but i can't remember the proper response for it." (YES YES, I KNOW. OHIO IS FOR LOVERS OKAY?)

she told me it was okay and proceeded to drop the biggest bombshell on my heart. this girl said, "i know this is random but i think you're really cool. i used to have the like, scene haircut but i got bullied for it." to which i first was like, 'aww, i've been there' (especially when i tried to cut my own fringe bc my mom wouldnt take me and i wound up with the world's worst cowlick). even more so because not once in my life has anyone ever thought i was cool. then she adds, "i'm 12 but i've been like this since i was 9."

this had my brain going in an entirely new direction. first off, i was 9 years older than her... okay. second, oh my god she's a baby. third, i have new inkling of hope for this generation... maybe the kids are alright. we talked for a little longer, talking about hair dye and where she's from and all. it was such a sweet, genuine interaction.

overall, these were both super wholesome experiences that i'm really cherishing. maybe to some this is an odd thing to have feel so special, but for me, i'm happy i could be even a vague blur in those girls' minds as they go on to form and shape their identities and forms of self-expression. even just giving them a small confidence boost from seeing someone else like themselves. it's something a younger me would have benefited from, and i can only hope i was adequate enough for them.

[rowarn]

sorry i wasn't specific with my ask! if you could just give me some ideas on how you get your inspo and word usage, that's mostly what i'm looking for! anything is appreciated though, thank youu. :))

RIGHT ON! its okay, i would have given random tips but i wasnt sure if there was something specific you were looking for!

my inspo largely comes from other media. tv shows, movies, edits, fucking character ai bots, other fics; literally anything that i enjoy i typically wind up using in my fics. its not for me personally but plenty of people get inspired by music! songs and music videos

other fics are excellent inspo bc u can see how readers respond to tropes that they've done. age gap, dilf, aus, and stuff like that. its also rlly great to see characterization. as long as you're not plagiarizing then emulating and learning from other writers who are doing the same thing you do or want to do is excellent. i love reading fics hehe

ik that sounds like super basic and boring but having a repertoire of existing tropes and stuff is super great!

as for word usage, it's all super subjective bc my tastes and stuff will not match up for everyone. but if u like how i write and want to emulate it then there are a few things i can say! i focus mostly on smut and dialogue.

first, it's important to have a good vocabulary. knowing synonyms to words you want to say is important. u don't want to have a paragraph that uses the same word over and over again, you want to break it up and make it mentally appealing to read. it won't be interesting to readers if you don't expand your vocab!

i am primarily a smut writer so that's where most of my focus is on intentional word usage. all my narration and plot is pretty basic i'd say. nothing incredibly special except for my dialogue which i put a lot of thought into.

i don't use metaphors that much. so, say, for smut u won't catch me using "globes" in reference to tits. i much prefer to just come out and say breasts, tits, chest.

i also don't use like Correct anatomy language. so i don't use penis, testicles, vagina or clitoris. i use.......porn language bc that's what im writing; cock, pussy, cunt, clit. just to keep it......erotic bc i personally (again, subjective) find correct anatomy language to be more off-putting than erotic.

smut is where it becomes difficult to use broad language. there's only so many words you can use for a dick. so don't be afraid to bust out some wattpad words u know? length, member, etc. ik they can sometimes be cringey and u don't like them but use them at the right time and using it sparingly and most ppl won't rlly notice. it breaks up reading the word cock and dick over and over and over again for 2k words.

for some examples,

for dicks u can use; dick, cock, member, shaft, length

for the puth u can do; pussy, cunt, folds, core, sex isn't bad

clit i use clit, bud, and nub mostly...but ppl use pearl or button, i don't but it doesn't bother me when i see it

i also don't use flowery language. i know in creative writing or whatever it's common to use poetic word usage but i find it to be more confusing than anything. i can't read rlly flowery fics bc the meaning of what im reading just genuinely gets lost. it's all lost on me. i'd say im a much more direct writer with my words and scenes? i utilize a fair bit of narration and exposition in my writing.

i find dialogue style to be quite important. if you read my stuff (like the fics, we dont look at my word vomit LMAOOO) you'll usually see i make the characters talk in specific ways.

simon cuts off his words "goin'" instead of "going", "somethin'" instead of "something", like that. i dont use a ton of language to depict his accent other than that, i leave the leg work mostly up to the readers bc they know what he sounds like. but some writers do like british slang, "wanker", "mate", "innit" LMAO i just don't and thats my choice. i choose to just cut his words off and call it a day. he has a more casual way of speaking in Taking What You Need as compared to konig in Experience.

konig, in Experience, has a specific way of talking as well that is opposite to simon. he doesn't use contractions. i did that intentionally bc i wanted him to have a more intimidating, professional, cold kind of way of talking. "do not do it" comes across different than "don't do it"!

i personally would say that a large part of my characterization comes across in dialogue and the style of dialogue i choose. i think that makes it more enjoyable for readers!

all in all, i basically just emulate what i personally like to see in writing. that's how i keep finding it enjoyable. i love giving fics for ppl to read but if i didn't write straight up what I wanted to see then the actual physical task of writing would be a lot worse.

idk how helpful this was since i basically just told u.....what i like to do LMAOOOO but i hope it gives u some kind of idea of what i focus on and how i get my writing to be the way it is?

EDIT: important that i also use inclusive language to the best of my abilities!

instead of saying like "your cheeks turned red" i use "you feel your cheeks heat up" or something along those lines since people with darker skin tones won't have their cheeks turn red when they blush!! but feeling your cheeks BURN is smthn we've all experienced.

i also try not to use any "running your hands through your hair" bc not everyone can do that! i can't even do that i have curly hair hehe. an alternative would be pushing a stray strand out of your face or tucking some behind your ear or something like that.

also, i don't mention nipple color or vagina color or anything !

[insufferable-homestuck]

So very tempted by the thought of being classpected by someone else. Personally, I've pegged myself as a Maid of Heart. I hope youre still accepting little clsspecting requests dhskbshs

I think one of my favorite things ever is creating something that people can really connect with- whether it be myself (or, my system, i suppose) or my friends.

I do a lot of art, a lot of writing. I'm very passionate about it! But in all fairness, it tends to loop back around to doing it for my buds. Most of my art is like, character references.

I also, do a lot of RP, which is what the character references are for, typically. A lot of my characters are just, like, fractals of myself. I realize that like, that might have things to do with being a system but oh well! All of my characters are parts of me. I know ppl put themselves into their characters, but this is different, I feel. But they aren't all like, self inserts, either. Its weird.

I am a trans man, if that means anything. For a very long time, I struggled with Identity and allowed the people around me to tell me who I am and what I'm allowed to like and interact with, all because I wanted their approval or affection. Since transitioning (i guess???) I feel so much better, obviously

What else is important about me fuck im trying to think

As mentioned previously, I'm a system. At least, I'm pretty damn sure. I've known for a couple of months now, Im not far along in the process of communicating well with the others. I've only had like, a couple of experiences that are like, ya know, clearly with system members.

I have, a lot of interests. And I'm very into them. It might be other people in my system having their own interests, but they are also MY interests, too. They're just more crazy about them than me.

I'm bad at communicating at times with people about my needs. I feel needy, emotionally, and I feel guilty about it

I feel like, I am stubborn. I have a hard time recognizing that there's a problem until it becomes unbearable or until someone has to smack sense into me.

I love horror stuff, especially the more psychological horror. I do like a bit o the gorey stuff. Shits classic. But im on that thought provoking shit. Im out here pondering what does it mean to be human and shit. It goes crazy

I have a hard time starting like, shows and games. I'll binge and then forget about it, and then I'll get intimidated by not remembering exactly where i left off and just never finish whatever it was.

This is so hard lmao i cant remember anything else go nuts

hey you heart obsessed fuck

everyone who has messaged me about this has described themselves as forgiving, creative, shy and stubborn but I can't keep spinning around the same aspects right. that's what Homestuck quizzes do and im better than that

so, i assign you the Heir of Blood, you care about your friends and relationships in your life, you have strong *bonds* with various characters, its also pretty funny you like horror movies, "gorey" movies. blood. you get it

not to shit on you specifically (( very much doing that. you talk like a dirk fan. )) but don't tell me your fucking classpect if you want me to assign you one, what are you HERE for? i don't care THAT much any attention is good attention etc but my PREFERRED audience is people who have no classpect or don't know anything about them so I can spit my bullshit and they believe me. You can have a classpect if you so please, just keep it secret in your ask and only tell me what it is if I'm right or close

I had another guess which was Thief of Heart but that'd sound so insulting to say to a system lmao, or extremely comical, you decide

[ageless-aislynn]

Okay, so I have a habit of talking out loud to my Halo game while I play. For example, in Halo 3 ODST, “Uplift Rising” there’s a point where one of the marines asks you (Dutch) to do something about the Wraiths and I inevitably say, “Well, pal, I’ll try but they’re probably going to kill me a few times first.” It’s just my thing. 😁

Then I got to thinking that I tend to call many of the characters by some sort of pet/nickname (except for my ODST team, oddly; I just call them by their names 🤷‍♀️). So here, for your reading pleasure (???) are the off-the-cuff things I call other characters in the Halo games:

*SPOILERS FOR ALL GAMES MENTIONED*

Halo: Combat Evolved

Captain Keyes - Dad (He started it by calling me son when he gave me his Magnum so that’s not on me 😇)

Cortana - Babe (She’ll say something like “Keep your head down, there’s two of us in here now, you know!” and I’ll say something back like, “I’m doing my best here, babe!”)

The Flood Infection forms - Cabbages (“Get away from me, you evil little cabbages!” Must be said with ABSOLUTE BLAZING SCORN as well. 😡😂)

All other Flood forms - Bozos (“Get away from me, you buncha Bozos!” Note: that’s referring to the clown, not the guy who started Amazon, a small but distinct difference in spelling. 🤷‍♀️😇)

Halo 2

Sgt Avery Johnson - Boss (He’ll complain that I made him trade his sniper rifle for whatever “lesser” gun I had and I’ll say, “Sorry, boss. Them’s the breaks.”)

The Elites who show up to help the Arbiter - My Good Dudes (They’ll be all “Look, it’s the Arbiter!” and I’ll say, “Thanks for coming, my good dudes! I appreciate it!”)

The Grunts who show up to help the Arbiter - My Good Little Dudes

Rtas ‘Vadum/Shipmaster - Bud (As in ”Good of you to show up, Bud!” or “Well, I’d rather you’d come down the elevator with me since you’re invincible, Bud, but stay here if that’s what you’ve gotta do.”)

Halo: Reach

Carter - Sir (Apparently the only member of Noble Team I respect??? 🤷‍♀️😇 Except I sometimes get a bit of an attitude about it. He’s all “Hurry up and get that AA gun offline, Six!” and I’ll say “I’m literally TRYING, sir. Like, right this second, I’m trying but they’re shooting at me.”)

Kat - Baby (I spend way too much time trying to coax her into getting into a Warthog with me: “Come on, baby, just get in the Warthog and we’ll go destroy the AA gun. It’ll be fun, I promise!!!”)

Jun - Pal (He’ll tell me I assassinated that Elite really nicely and I’ll give him a chipper, “Thanks, pal, that means a lot to me!”)

Emile - Baby Boy (I have no idea why I call him and only him this but I do it the entire game, lol. “Baby boy, I’m just trying to save your life here, trust me!”)

Jorge - I call him by his name but almost always add “I love you” to it. “Jorge, I love you, thanks for taking out that Skirmisher, he was about to shoot my butt off!” Occasionally might give him a “big man” but always with the ILU. Because I freakin’ love Jorge. 🥰

Halo 3

Cortana - Sweetheart (She has a rough go of things in this one so most of the time it’s a very sympathetic sweetheart, unless she interrupts me with a vision and I nearly die because of it. “Sweetheart, I appreciate that you’re hurting but you’re gonna get me killed if you keep doing that!”)

Sgt Avery Johnson - Bro (If you know this game, you know when I was saying, “No, bro, NOOOOOOO...” 😭😭😭 But previously, when he was up on the hill sniping the Flood for me, I kept saying, “Thanks, bro!”)

The Flood Stalker forms - Evil Spiders (Kinda self-explanatory if you’ve ever seen them skittering around. *shudder*)

The Flood Tank forms - TAAAAAAANK!!! (Very helpful to say out loud in order to warn, um, myself that one of them is coming at me. 😳🤷‍♀️)

Master Chief - Since this is, uh, me in all of the games, I usually just say something like “Chief’s coming, hang on!” but in this game, in the Cortana level where you rescue her and she’s all mentally wrecked and tells you she wants to get out of there, I hand-to-God blurted out, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, Big Daddy’s got you!” 😳😳😳 I have no idea where that came from. I just... Yeah. Whatever. Emotions were running high at the time, what can I say? 😳😳😳😇

Annnd that’s all that I can think of at the moment and I think that’s actually plenty, lol! Oh and as you might’ve noticed, I just finished Halo 3. My feelings were a little mixed as I was playing it, GOOD LAWD some of these levels are LONG, but I appreciate it more now that I’m done. I’m going to go back and explore the levels more, have some fun with them, now that I’m not *game on, face* trying to win, you know? 😣😉

Big Daddy, out.

[petitprincess1]

Sorry for being unspecific, I'm referring to the anon that said it's best to ignore anons specifically coming to you with aggression or starting discourse or whatever, and your response was something like, "They're the ones coming to my inbox, it's not like I wanna start discourse lol"

Like, my point is that you could very easily just ignore those types of asks. You're under no obligation to answer them, but you do so anyways, as well as put them in all the fandom tags. I think that's what that other anon was saying gets tiring to see over and over, and if I'm right in that assumption, I kinda agree with them. It just feels overly petty on both sides. (I'm not sure if the other anon was referencing a specific event or just discourse-causing in general, but I'm speaking more on the in-general side of things, I guess)

I get what you're saying, but I don't view some of the stuff that you may see as discourse. I'm guessing this is based on an anon I got telling me about Striker being OOC/poorly written. I didn't view that as discourse in my eyes, which is why I didn't really understand what that person was talking about. That's someone who was just speaking their mind, even if it was a little passionate.

The second anon that came afterward probs was a troll, but meh. A troll/bait is only successful when you give a shit and I've ran out of that lol. I play it off as a joke or not really caring, which is why I put the "tomfooleryy" tag in there. I don't feel it's discourse, just silliness/foolishness.

Plus, some "discourse" where it's misinformation or rumors or harassment, I want to nip in the bud as quickly as possible. I don't view that as discourse, just people spreading around crap that doesn't need to be. Especially when it comes to leaks going around in both fandoms. Yeah, it's drama, but I think that has more "danger", for lack of a better word, in the fandom versus opinions.

While I cannot promise that none of the discourse will be in the tags, I will say that the ones where they're clearly trying to piss me off won't be. I hope that's understandable. I just wanted to be as honest as possible.

Yeah, I know it can be petty, but I'm okay with forgoing some maturity just to show how obnoxious that troll is being.

[avesomnia-inhoramortis]

[ooc] would you mind especially if i utilized a bit of the ideas around your trina-as-white-king rumination for the express purpose of miquellatrina exploration fic?

Go for it and feel free to tag me when it's done!!!

Admittedly a lot of my attempts to cram Miquella into the alchemical marriage are a little hamfisted, but figuring out what Trina is in relation to Miquella and Malenia is interesting. Because Marika is the White Queen, and Radagon is the relevant Red King. They have kids. The curse of their... how do I phrase this, selfcestuous union? Anyway, they end up with twin children: a White King and a Red Queen. Venus as a boy and Mars as a woman.

So whatever Trina is in relation to Miquella, she is not the same thing as Radagon. She is not a Red Queen. I like experimenting with writing her as such, but she's not- most of the textual references to her involve people chasing her down.

Saint Trina might have some hope or guidance to share, but most of her "activity" I extrapolated from where her lilies are located. The one thing we could solidly say she Does, soothe the merchants, comes from a cut questline. By contrast, it is much easier to read her as a passive figure- she's a princess in a tower, like Marika, Rennala, and Ranni. All of them are absolutely strong queens who take no shit and no prisoners, but you must admit they are characterized by a certain lack of agency that requires a knight-errant. A Lord, a Mars, someone who will kill for them.

But then if we're talking genders and alchemy- what would it even mean to be a White King? I'd need to do more studying to take a proper crack at answering that. I think there's something to be said for Miquella's strange combination of abundance and infertility- he keeps trying to give birth to things, in one way or another, that either never come to fruition or die stillborn. The Haligtree is dead, its womb ripped open, Elphael is covered in cocoons still occupied by the bodies of his followers, arrested in whatever they were becoming. Conversely, even if it's not conventional, Malenia almost can't stop giving birth- she transforms her knights, she explodes into multiple buds, there are numerous pests in Caelid who feel abandoned because she's supposed to be their mother. Miquella wants to be a god and has no children, Malenia does not want to be a god and has unwanted children. There might be something to that, particularly if a god is meant to be feminine. Miquella is, after all, the odd one out in a group of primarily women.

But he rejects that femininity to become a god, and that's interesting. The way it was framed in the trailer, Trina had something to do with his fate. Possibly his fate as an Empyrean, which is supposed to be the living vessel of an outer god like the Elden Beast or the Moon or Rot. What's his god? What was he meant to contain? We might never know, and he's as close as we're going to get to a high fantasy atheist I think. I think, if anything, Miquella is Trina's Radagon, if that makes sense? Miquella doesn't want to be a princess in a tower and just decree his will- he wants to make changes and do things and act, which is the province of a lord.

It's extremely queer of him and I love that.

Trina might be their passivity, their dependence, their childish neediness- she's content with stagnation and oblivion in a way Miquella isn't, I think, considering most of her imagery is mist and swamps and Miquella has his butterflies.

So I decided maybe that's it. She's a flower and he's a butterfly. Both limited, both needing eachother, one still very much passive and the other determined to be active. It's very easy to read this whole Empyrean business as the idea that Miquella should have been a woman and is determined to Not Be. He's just. So queer. Him, Trina, and Malenia are SO queer. The alchemy hyperfixation just gives me the words to explain it.

I did not intend to write this much in response, soooo. If you want more rambling you can always feel free to poke me, I love theorizing So Much.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#254

"Well lookie here. I have my captain kneeling completely naked in front of me, eagerly wanting to submit to me and my hose. You ready to be my cunt? I see you follow orders, shaved from the nose down. I knew just how much you want this when I saw your beard you’ve had for years now was gone this morning. I can tell you want this so fucking bad. I just didn’t know you had wanted me for so many years….

“When I caught you on my hidden camera stealing my jocks from my locker, I thought you did it to all the guys here. I didn’t realize just how much of a stalker you were until I read your e-mail. When I asked you how long this has been going on, I was referring to the jock snatching. I wasn’t expecting a two-thousand-word history of you stalking me for the past twelve years. It’s extra creepy to find out that on my trip to California, that you had your friend follow me around and hit on me at the baths. If you wanted my fat cock that much, you could have just asked. I would have been fucking you two or three times a week. Instead, whenever I would get horned up from being around all these beefy men for too long, I had to go into the toilet and toss one off.

“I bet you want to see it. Don’t you? I mean you’ve seen it before, at the urinals, but never hard. Your friend sure has. So you know I am big I truly am. Fuck, you couldn’t stop talking about it in your write-up. And you are already salivating at my stripping to my skivvies. My briefs show a big ol’ package. I never try to hide it. I’ve been wearing these briefs for five days now, ever since I confronted you about stealing from my locker.

“See all those piss stains? There are a few loads too. I figure that a cunt that’s been lusting after me all these years is going to do whatever the fuck I want. Right now, that includes drinking some of my piss. But first grind your face into my pouch; I want you to feel the monster that is going to be the center of your universe. With the focus on my big dick, you probably didn’t notice I have balls to match. They need to be drained frequently.

“Go ahead and pull down the briefs, slowly. Take a moment to smell the piss, the stale cum, and the sweat. That’s better than any poppers out there. Pull them all the way down, and hand them to me…. Whew! I stink.

“Hands behind your back. Now with just the tip of your tongue, I want you to guide just my dickhead into your mouth. Do not suck. Do not take more of my shaft. You will be doing both later. Right now, I need to take a piss. Close your mouth around the head and start drinking. I have a full bladder, and I know how to control the flow.

“Oh, fuck this feels good. You’ve drank piss before. Nice tongue action too. I will be using that tongue for a nastier place later. I take it from your moan that you eat ass? Good. I will be using your mouth as my urinal from this day forward. I am not passing up a talented mouth.

“Pull off. I said pull off. I have a lot of piss for you, and I will be spreading it out. It’s a good thing that you were able to get the firehouse cleared out for the rest of the night. Being captain will have its advantages.

“Stand up and over to the bench…. Wait! Holy shit! Ha! Oh my fucking god. That is one tiny needle of a dick. Jesus! What the hell do you do with that? You certainly can’t use it to fuck. How long is it? I mean it is rock hard and it can’t be three inches at most!... What was that? Two and a half? No wonder your ex-wife left you last year for Davies over at the 9th. Don’t look surprised, we all knew she did. None of us knew about this.

“Trust me, your little clit will never be needed around me. In fact, I don’t want to think about it; don’t want to see it either. I mean look at the difference between yours and mine. It’s a goddamned laugh riot.

“I may only be about 7 inches long, but between 8 and 9 inches around. I have met many men that are longer, but I have never met one who is thicker. We’ll need to get a pic of yours being dwarfed by mine later.

“But first, my cock has wrecked many throats, and it has destroyed many ass cunts. Yours is next. I have something for you to put on. Here are ankle and wrist cuffs. Cunts like you have big eyes and small twats…. Good! Now on the bench face down…. With a couple of D-clamps, you ain’t going to be using your arms and legs too much. Struggling is good, but nothing is going to stop my tree trunk impaling your cunt.

“Open your mouth. Remember my rank briefs. You can suck on them now. That wad doesn’t come out until I say it does, you got that? You are giving me a sour look, like you’re tasting something foul. My skid marks must be on your tongue. Oh well.

“You are really looking forward to this, aren’t you? Have you been fantasizing about how my cock will feel pushing in and stretching your cunt? Have you been thinking about it for all these years? Shake your head. Good! Thought so. And in a few minutes my load is going to flood your hole.

“Damn, that is one nice ass. Push up and show me your cunt. Damn, it’s so cute. Feel my battering ram thump it. That will get you tingling. My cock is so thick and your hole is so small, it’s like I am taking your virginity from you a second time.

“Ok flat on the bench. I need to lay on top of you. My hairy chest feels nice on your smooth back. I’m a big guy, and I weight a lot; I know. The moment you have been dreaming of for the past decade or so is about to happen.

“Lift your head. I need to put my forearm on the bench. Do you feel my stache on your cheek? Good. Focus on what I am saying. Listen up. I own you. From this point on, I control everything in your life. I control your ass, your dick, and your mouth. I decide when you have sex, and what man gets to fuck you. I control when you cum which will be seldom if ever, when you piss, and when you shit. I control what you eat and what you drink. Hell. I even control when you breathe.

“You know what I learned when I went to California? You know, the one you had your friend try to pick me up? I met up with a bud that is a motorcycle riding California Highway Patrol officer.

“Quit squirming. I know it’s hard to breathe with 240 pounds of a real man on top of you. That Office showed me how to use my bicep and forearm in a way that puts pressure on both sides of your neck, cutting off much needed oxygen. Go ahead try to fight back. It’s pointless you know.

“Your struggling has gotten my dick leaking. Do you feel my pre-cum running down the crack of your ass? Probably not. You’re too busy trying to get your next gasp of oxygen. Your red face is telling me that you don’t care about your ass right now. Just a few seconds more. Shhh shhh shhh shhh. It will be over in a minute….

“Or less it seems. And you are out cold. Now my cock will slide in easily. Oh yes it does! Fuck! Your hole is like silk. It’s not going to take me long. I’ve been wanting to fuck this cunt for years. I would never tell you that while you are awake. I can’t wait until I got your ass trained to take me without having to knock you out first. I plan on going for hours when that happens.

“Oh fuck this isn’t going to take long. I got a big fucking load that’s going to be shot in deep. Here it comes. Take it you fucking cunt. Urg! Fuck! Urg! Uh! Uh! Ahh!

“Fuck I needed that. You are breathing. Let’s get my briefs out. You have a minute or two to come to. I don’t have to tell you to lay still. I got some pissing to do. Oh that feels nice. My piss filling you up good. When you wake up, fuck, you are going to be bursting.

“I know, my briefs will make a good plug,… for now.

“Lookie there! You are waking up. Good. I’ll give you a few moments. Let me get those cuffs off of you. Wake up. You are at the station. Captain, you remember?... Good! Here’s some water…. Are you with me yet? Do you remember being naked in front of me begging for my cock? That brought a smile to your face. You are back! Just look at my cock now. It’s covered in your ass slime.

“Yeah, I fucked you. Sucks for you that you were out cold. But hey! It was great…. You even have a quart of my piss in there too…. Don’t believe me? When you go to take a shit, pull my briefs out of your ass and a torrent of my piss is going to come pouring out. Yup! Let me just say that unconscious holes offer no resistance.

“Stick out your tongue. I said stick out your fucking tongue. You are going to clean up your mess on my dick. Start with sticking my head in. I got to finish peeing. You were getting too full, and I had to stop.

“Oh yeah, there’s that tongue again. You are going to be a good cunt for me. Oh yeah, this is going to happen again. Remember I own you. And not just as some sex object, but I will control you here at the station. You may be captain around here, but I will be calling the shots. First thing is that I think it’s time for you to think about retirement at the same time get me ready for a promotion, don’t ya think?”

[retphienix]

@daemonica

(reset since the post was going wild)

You're too generous but thank ya; I just sound like that's the case, I assure you.

To answer your question though I have to admit you've pretty much nailed a lot of the conversation around both weapons just then and there.

Horn is currently splitting the community between those who love it and those that resent it for not being the same as Iceborne (usually iceborne, some want older).

And GL can often be summed up as something being "too weak" and blast dash lol

I'm one of the people who thinks Rise horn is the best it's ever been; A sentiment roughly half the playerbase would dispute and half of that half would attempt to discredit such an opinion by saying new horn is "dumbed down" and I'm either new to the weapon or bad, as one does when you're upset at change.

I actually really liked old horn, and there are some facets of old horn that I miss in Rise but also can't really argue would "fit" in Rise, I just liked them in oldschool and that's that.

Things like the double note felt nice to utilize in your moveset to better manage what songs you kept up

The flourish specifically is what I'm referring to as the "double note", a simple two hit combo where you could make the second hit whatever note you want which sped up your song playin'.

But I digress and to shorten a long ramble which I DEFINITELY typed out and then deleted because I can apparently talk way too much about Rise horn, old horn is good but not my favorite, but I played a great deal of it. Iceborne horn is supposedly the best and I tried it and thought it was pretty good, but I did all my horn hunts pre-iceborne and can't pretend to have experience there.

And Rise horn is just the perfect "Max aggro, fluid, mobile, just-dumbed-down-enough" weapon for me, personally.

I actually like how the songs have gone from something you micro managed like a hawk to something that just "happens". And Echo feels great, it's my favorite way to play Horn.

I get why some people really dislike it because it is so different, but I also feel like some are a bit too aggro in their disdain for the thing? Like, Rise horn is such a fun weapon to use, even if you LOVED micro managing songs and there's definitely some fun to be had there (it's something *I* liked about old horn) I don't see how you can look at this fun weapon and go "Oh this SUCKS" as much as some of those players do. Ah well, more horn for me.

GL is surprisingly another weapon that I feel shines in Rise and even a lot of GL mains would scoff at that interpretation since it's kinda.... sucked the entire time. Bottom of the charts bad. But ridiculously fun so who cares lol

I... honestly haven't used it since Sunbreak came out. Not for any negative reason, if anything I've seen a lot to make me think it's MORE fun in Sunbreak. I just played a metric ton of it before Sunbreak so I haven't really been interested in diving back in yet. Great weapon though. Undertuned as hell, and they keep trying to tie shelling damage to stats other than raw and it's always funky on how that balances out, and blast dash is a tool I actually hate using but I think it's so fun it's no wonder it's so lauded (I'll stick with charged shelling) and, yeah.

Undertuned weapon. Really fun weapon. It's been months since I used it last so I actually can't remember specifics beyond recalling that "something" about how they adjusted the moveset from World made it feel better to me this time around. Nothing intense, I just remember going "Oh, that's different, this feels better" and then playing like 100 hunts with GL in a row with two buds who also joined the GL squad lol

Oh and to circle back just for a sec, I do think Hammer is having an identity crisis, but it's certainly not FAILING. It went from KO KING to... a weapon. But it's a weapon with a really fun and hefty swing to it, and some neat playstyles with those different charge styles.

And I'll be honest, I found out about that new Sunbreak Spinning Bludgeon Charge where you can change your entire combo into "Level 3, Charge swap, Level 3 spinning charge, Charge swap, Level 3" forever and now I can't not see Rise Hammer as the most chaotic weapon there is, maybe behind an aerial only IG player.

The weapon is sheer madness in Rise and it's a blast to play, but it's also like... a mash chaotic weapon now when it used to just be the KO King etc

It's in transition right now.

[mmmmalo]

For anyone still under the impression that June Egbert is just a product of the Toblerone wishes with no particular relevance to Homestuck proper, here's an argument to the contrary: that June (or whatever you like to call her) was already here, woven into John's relationship with the idea of Dad.

Act 1 has a certain preoccupation with the ideal forms of things, John having multiple instances of saying X isn't a REAL X unless it has this or that characteristic. "A fire BELONGS in a fireplace, categorically." One of those outbursts touches upon masculinity, with John saying a gentleman without a monocle is a piss-poor excuse for such. Along such a paradigm, you might gather that something like John saying the beaglepuss sucks as a disguise or trying (and failing) to integrate Dad's pipe into the façade communicates that John is kind of grasping at this ideal of masculinity exemplified by Dad and getting frustrated that he can't seem to measure up to it (or that masculinity feels "fake" on him).

This sort of dynamic is more blatant with Dave, who talks openly about how he isn't a "hero", not really, measuring himself against the impossible standards set by his Bro. But as much was already implicit in Act 1.

Later it gets established that John has some kind of fear of heights: the first ogres appear after John experiences vertigo from almost falling off the stairs, and again after getting launched by the pogo hammer. (Just as Karkat suspected he was given a planet covered in his own blood as a form of harassment, Sburb placed John's house on that needle plateau because of this fear of heights; the game generally manifests adversaries in response to fear). The phobia becomes relevant to Dad stuff after the ogre fight is over, when John is hesitating to jump down into Dad's room: it isn't just that John's nervous about entering the room for the first time, the descent itself makes John anxious. Furthermore, this juxtaposition serves to establish that the fear of heights and anxieties around Dad are related somehow, if not outright synonymous. The two are associated again at the beginning of Act 5 Act 2, when dream!John tries to jump over a canyon to reach Dad, but awakens mid-leap. The formal reason John awakens is Vriska of course, but if we ignore her we're left with John approaching Dad and immediately experiencing vertigo. (The name "June" comes from Vriska contacting John shortly after this dream, incidentally)

This comes up again when John finds Dad's wallet and gets overwhelmed by the prospect of Manhood and the responsibilities it entails -- next thing you know John is flying around in Dad's car, having fun... and after the scene is interrupted by Seek the Highblood, we return to find John crashing the car (another fall from the sky!) and talking with Vriska about dread surrounding societal expectations, and the possibility of rejecting them to pursue something different for yourself. John came into the scene worried (if quietly) about the expectations surrounding manhood, so the Vriska conversation serves to makes those kind of concerns more vivid.

The car crash is itself kind of a metaphor for that conversation's trajectory... in Act 6 we see something analogous play out among the Dersites who have gotten into dapper-wear: one Dersite sits on a hat, panics about ruining it, and then begins to wonder if perhaps a crumpled hat could have a value of its own, aesthetically. (Dirk expresses this sort of counter-assessment more bombastically: "...the next best thing. By which you mean, the vastly superior thing.") Dad Crocker swoops in to condemn the crumpled hat, but the Dersite's tentative revaluation of an apparent failure mode is something the scene shares with Vriska, who initially regards her ambivalence towards murder as a symptom of personal failure, unbefitting her caste. John enters that conversation with a crumpled car, and from context we can guess John's revaluation concerns "failing" to be a man in the way Dad is, and how maybe that doesn't need to be considered a failure.

As laid out so far, I guess none of this quite necessitates trans-Egbert, since people can come at "anxiety and reservations at the prospect of embodying masculine ideals" from a number of angles... but there are other considerations which make me think wrestling with self-deprecating thoughts like "I'm a failed man" are maybe comorbid with a budding sense of being a girl, in Egbert's case.

Foremost, I think it helps to recognize that Dad's car can function as a symbol of John's body. To sketch a case for that:

1a. Death often means transformation: the trolls die in questcocoons to reach the godtiers, suggesting that death stands between the caterpillar and the butterfly, their too solid flesh dissolved into a goo.

1b. A command in Act 1 implores John to "retrieve arms from MAGIC CHEST". John complies twofold: we see some fake arms retrieved from the toy chest, held up by John's real arms which have been "retrieved" from John's ostensibly armless torso.

2. This dual usage of chest is deployed in part 3 of Openbound, in service of building a dysphoria metaphor (among other things). The segment reintroduces us to Fiduspawn, a game in which one creature hatches from another, a host creature, killing the host in the process (fans of the Alien films may recognize this as derivative of the "chestburster", fans of Homestuck may recognize this as analogous to godtiering). Damara (who Rufioh refers to as "doll") becomes the host plush, who is accused of locking away Rufioh's "happy thought" (Tinkerbull) in her "chest". Rufioh's beef with Damara serves to illustrate an adversarial relationship with one's own body, the ways in which the body itself seems to function as a barrier to some happiness. The carnal imprisonment of euphoria (the "happy thought") represents dysphoria. The conversation between Kanaya and Porrim which follows has analogous content and offers a potential resolution to such a conflict, with Kanaya coming to distinguish her body from the reproductive duties assigned to her body by her caste's place in society, and knowing that she is not "bound" to the Matriorb by any will but her own...

3. But the paradigm of Fiduspawn reminds us that the act of actually ripping the happy thought out of your chest has suicidal overtones, when taken literally. And Aradiabot notwithstanding, the inner ghosts the kids give up are often green: Dirkbot tears out his uranium heart and explodes, Rose peels pink bricks off the green core of an island and wonders aloud if her existence is a mistake, and (returning to our main topic!) John tries to retrieve the green package from Dad's car. The retrieval of the box comes to represents the birth of the self from its shell, the now broken body, a gesture which overlaps with the pursuit of death.

So we can infer that Dad is akin to Damara here, having locked the desired object (the box, the "happy thought") within a container that we can identify with John's own body. Thus Vriska's talk of perhaps rejecting her assigned role in society proceeds naturally from the wreckage of Dad's car: insofar as the car functions as an emblem of the masculine expectations imposed upon John, the car's wreckage suggests the possibility of liberation from those expectations, liberation from your own body. John is "sick to death of cake" -- cake is a Life symbol imposed by Dad, in visceral excess, accumulating as every birthday marches John towards Manhood. The possibility of living as a girl does not seem to have occurred to John yet, life and masculinity seem inextricable and absolute. The first time John sees Dad's car totaled (after Rose drops it), the symbol of self-as-corpse is surrounded by yellow bands of caution tape. The Authority Regulator who placed the tape will later declare himself to be THE LAW, and we should take his word for it: the scene's function is to declare that the crumpled car, the "dead" and therefore feminized body, is forbidden to John. No surprise then that as John marches to her death, in defiance of the Law's prohibition, she-whose-name-does-not-yet-suit-her is met with impressions of several maps that actually align with their territories: troll movies whose titles are their contents in full, a rocket encoded by the sound PCHOOOOO. John wants that for herself, I think. And as @lscholar once pointed out, it’s worth noting that John's pursuit of this unity (this pursuit of "death") is interrupted by Dave, who in saving John's life repeatedly emphasizes their status as "bros" -- masculinity being, again, inextricable from life within John’s symbol system.

...and that's the short of it. A more detailed account might get into the association of Vriska and other blue girls with the feminized corpse, or read into Equius self-consciously roleplaying as a cat girl between John’s joyride and crash, or perhaps try to apply this car-body framework to the appearances of Dad's car in the Epilogues. And I haven’t even touched upon clowns...but I'll call it here for now.