#just gotta code those bitches

[leviiackrman]

Margot's story has officially come to a close. Read her full bio here!

tag list (ask to be added or removed): @risingsh0t @sstewyhosseini @chuckhansen @statichvm @roofgeese @unholymilf @florbelles @confidentandgood @arklay @captmactavish @shellibisshe @simonxriley @queennymeria @marivenah @nokstella @mrdekarios @thedeadthree @jacobseed @jackiesarch @heroofpenamstan @dameayliins @jillvalentinesday @shadowglens @fenharel @alexxmason @yurgir @malefiicarum

[cryptotheism]

How many languages do you speak?

You are always talking about alchemist that lived all around the world in very differente time periods. And you have mentioned several times that there's a ton of numerology hidden in their texts, counting syllables and letters of certain words and paragraphs. So one would assume you need to read them in the original language it was written, right?

That's a really good question! As with most really good questions, the answer is "kinda, it depends!"

So! Most alchemical texts are written in some form of coded language, but the nature of that code depends on the era and culture the text is being written in. Depending on how its written, modern scholars have a lot of different tools for cracking open alchemical esoterica.

Most ancient Greek/Byzantine texts are written in postclassical Greek. But, they're often written in dense philosophical prose. The reader needs to be familiar with the likes of Plato, Aristotle, and the early Neoplatonists, to make sense of them. Luckily for us, people have been studying postclassical Greek for nearly 2000 years. There are many excellent translations into English.

Late Egyptian alchemists wrote almost entirely in pictograph code. Not as in hieroglyphics, mind you. Egyptian alchemical recipes often made use of custom character sets and symbols that represented alchemical concepts. (One famous example, the Formula of the Crab, uses a complex diagram that looks like a centipede to represent a particular gold compound.) These are damn near impossible to read without expert help.

At the same time, Jewish and Syriac writers of the era could get by on the fact that not everyone could read Hebrew and Syriac lol. The language barrier itself acted as a sort of copyright system for protecting their ideas. Luckily for us, many of these texts were preserved and translated by medieval Arab scholars!

Speaking of Arabic, once you hit the Islamic Golden Age, the amount of alchemical literature increases by a factor of ten. Thing is, the Islamic Polymaths weren't all that interested in obscuring their work. The Islamic Golden Age was all about copying and translating older works, and compiling them into big textbook/dictionaries. They're not intentionally encoded, they're comparatively easy to read once you get a good translation. Thing is, you gotta know your Neoplatonism. Medieval Islamicate scholars love Neoplatonism.

Then we get the reintroduction of alchemy to Europe around the 10th century. What you get is about 400 years of monks painstakingly translating medieval Arabic into Latin. A lot of these texts are very well preserved, and have good translations into English.

Then, around the late 14th century, European entrepreneurial alchemy kicks into high gear, and THIS is where we get all those fancy numerology encoded alchemical texts. Renaissance alchemists loved themselves some puzzles. This would be fine if they were all just writing in Latin, but the printing press meant they could write in any damn language they please. You get a lot of French, German, Dutch, Italian, and antiquated English alchemical texts, and they can be a bitch to read without help.

BUT the introduction of the printing press also gave us something useful: cheap picture books! Late renaissance alchemists loved writing in word games and coded metaphor, but they also loved including esoteric diagrams. And the thing about esoteric diagrams is --if you know your stuff-- you don't need to speak 15th century french to read a picture. Which isn't a replacement for reading the original translation, not even close, but the explicit purpose of these images was to prove to other alchemists that the author knows what they're talking about. So if you can read them, you can get a damn good sense as to what the text is about.

This was fun to write so I'm gonna plug my patreon if you wanna see me write more about alchemy.

[penisbutterjellytime]

Got to the end. Behold... the Rook I finished with

The pouty elf...

more elf screeshots

Okay after 7 hours Veilgaurd has finally downloaded

[worldlxvlys]

texts with fwb! nate (part 8)

fwb nate x sturniolo reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex

a/n: hehehee

when i walked into nick’s room, he was sat with his legs crossed on his bed.

upon hearing me, his head shot up in my direction.

“hey” he spoke softly, flashing a small smile.

“hey” i whispered as i closed his door before joining him on his bed.

“ok, so. start from the beginning” he said.

i explained the entire situation to him, leaving out the explicit details.

when i finished, his eyes were wide and mouth hung open.

“you mean to tell me you two have been sneaking around for months ?” he looked distraught.

“i know, i get it, you’re disgusted in me. i couldn’t keep my legs closed-“ he cut me off.

“hey, don’t talk about yourself like that. i’m not mad that you kept it from me, i’m upset that you felt like you had to keep it from me”

my face scrunched up in confusion.

“listen, i don’t love the idea of you being with one of my best friends, but if he makes you happy then i’m not opposed to it” he said.

“and i get you keeping it from matt and chris, but why me? i always thought that we were close enough to tell each other anything” i never considered the fact that he might be more hurt about me not telling him than he was about me being with nate.

i let out a sigh, “i don’t know, nick. i always just assumed you would tell them. you never keep things from them, isn’t that breaking triplet code, or whatever ?”

he placed his hand on my arm gently.

“yes they are my triplet brothers, but you’re my sister. when have i ever told them about your business ? it’s not mine to tell. i’ve told you a million times before and i’ll tell you again, i have your back. of course i won’t tell them”

“thank you, nick. i really appreciate it”

“always. but you do know you can’t keep this from them forever, right ? you’re gonna have to tell them eventually”

“yeah, i know. i just gotta figure out how”

“hey, we’ll figure it out together. that’s what i’m here for” i pulled him in for a hug, squeezing his shoulders.

“ok, so, give me all the details” my eyes widened.

“you want the details ?” he immediately caught onto what i meant.

“wha- NO! NO! not the sexual details, jesus”

i raised my hands in defense, “alright, well, how was i supposed to know what type of details you were talking about !?”

“i meant, the stuff you were talking about in the texts”

i felt my face begin to heat up and i looked down. “oh, those details”

he tilted his head, dropping it slightly to meet my eyes “you have feelings for him” he asked in a softer voice.

i squeezed my eyes shut as i fought the smile that was growing on my face.

“OHHHH! you’re getting all bashfullll !” he teased.

“nick, stoppp” i said as i covered my face with my hands.

“don’t hide now girl, you weren’t shy when your bed was banging against the wall last night”

my eyes widened in horror, jaw hanging open.

“yeah, bitch, you forgot we share a wall, huh ?”

“y- you heard that ?” i asked, eyes still as wide as ever.

“ girl. you’re not quiet, sorry. i knew you were fucking someone, just never thought it was nate of all people. that man has you screaming and moa-“ i slapped his chest quickly, trying to shut him up.

“oh my gosh, nick. please stop”

“ok, ok” he said. we both looked at each other before breaking out into fits of laughter.

tears streamed down our faces and we held our stomachs as we continued to laugh at each other’s laughter.

when we finally calmed down, we wiped out tears away.

“ok, but i’m actually really glad that you found out. i need to talk about my feelings”

“that’s what i’m here for”

we talked for a while, staying up until the early hours of the next day.

eventually, we fell into a peaceful slumber.

we were blissfully unaware of what chaos we were going to wake up to. 

 ———————

yayyyy supportive nickkk

fwb! nate masterlist

main masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnsdior @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @freshloveforthefit @creamoncreamoncream2 @whos-avi @imwetforyourmom @rootbeerworshiper

[anystalker707]

don't let me go

Pairing: Sam Monroe x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: he confesses his feelings to you, but he's a lot softer than you thought Tags: comfort / he's puppy coded (normal) / he's also whiny (normal) / giving him a piercing, but it's brief / he cries a lot a/n: self-indulgent fic, and @sw33tsuccubus wanted to read it <3

MASTER LIST

The tips of my fingers felt something between numbness and a stinging pain while I pressed the ice cube wrapped up in a gauze over Sam’s eyebrow until he sighed, staring at me.

“It’s enough,” he said with that bad humor of always.

“If you keep being annoying like that, I’ll never do you another favor,” I sighed as well, putting the ice cube inside an empty glass on the nightstand, but he didn’t seem unsatisfied, snickering.

“You know very well that you will, independent of how ‘annoying’ I am,” Sam continued, following the needle with his eyes.

I shook my head. “Wanna test?” And he didn’t have time to answer, his words being replaced by a hiss the moment the needle pierced his skin, going in under his eyebrow and reappearing a few millimeters above it. “Done,” I said, carefully putting the barbell in the needle’s place and cleaning the area around the new perforation with a humid piece of cotton.

It sounded like Sam had been holding his breath for a while, exhaling heavily while letting his head hang, forehead pressed to my shoulder, while I discarded the needle and the cotton in the glass, with the ice. It wasn’t safe or anything, but it was what we could do when Sam had no money on him.

“Let me see.” I pulled away a little, just enough to look at his face, watching his cheeks, normally pale, now slightly flushed.

Sam tried to arch an eyebrow but suppressed the movement whilst grabbing a small mirror from the bedside table and taking a brief look at his new piercing. “It’s good.” He looked at me again, moving to sit on my lap, straddling it, and kissed me on the forehead. Curious. I rolled my eyes. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, it’s good,” I said, nodding, giving him a light tap on the thigh. He had a few tears in his eyes. I wiped one away before it fell from his eye and ruined his eyeliner.

The new piercing suited him very well, overall. Something that had been missing. Silver was a color that really complemented him—it was on the chains that hung from his neck and over the worn-out band shirts, and also on the ones that fell from his belts that were practically useless on the large pants that were always low enough to show the hem of his boxers and the circumference of his hips. The silver of his earrings and the labret under his plump lip contrasted fantastically with the black eyeliner, same color as his short air, save for the blue strand.

“It hurt like a bitch,” he muttered with a sigh.

“Well, I told you that I’m not exactly a professional or something,” I chuckled. “But it’s not crooked or bad. You just gotta care for it now. I’d give it a little kiss to make it better, but I don’t want it to get infected,” I chuckled again.

Sam clearly wanted to laugh, but he masked the laughter with a scoff and gave my shoulder a light pat. “Stop being stupid,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes, and he was so beautiful like that. I would’ve kissed those plump lips if I could. I didn’t remember the last time I’d seen someone that beautiful. He adjusted his position on my lap to make it more comfortable for us, almost resting his head on my shoulder again before he looked me in the eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

The question was useless, really. Sam already knew a lot of personal things and could practically ask about anything, but I only nodded, muttering in agreement. My hand hovered over his thigh, tracing the logo of a band patch he’d sewn there. Very poorly.

The silence made me look at his face again, and Sam poked his labret with the tip of his tongue, his cheeks still flushed. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally exhaling and speaking up, his voice trembling slightly. “What do you think of me?”

It was hard to tell, even harder to act as if I weren’t a deer caught in headlights—a situation that only existed inside my mind, worst of all. I sighed, shaking my head. Sam was so many things. Why did he need to know that?

“Ah, dunno. You’re one of the coolest people I know.” I paused to think. “You have a great style. Smart. Cute, too. I didn’t think I’d have the patience to be friends with you, but we hit it off pretty well.” We had different backgrounds, obstacles, but it never seemed to be much of an issue. “I like you a lot, as a person, y’know.”

A crease appeared between Sam’s eyebrows until he slowly averted his gaze and pressed his lips together. “Cute? Really?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re like a puppy, sometimes. In a good sense, of course.” I shrugged lightly and leaned back against the headboard.

Sam bit his bottom lip, playing with his labret again, a loose thread of his jeans between his fingers. It wasn’t really possible to identify the expression on his face, but there was an air of annoyance. Maybe. “A puppy? I think you already called me something like that when we first met.”

I smiled. “Yeah, of course.” I hooked my finger around the ring of the black collar that involved his neck and tugged lightly, noticing the light hitch in his breath.

“For fuck’s sake, if you keep doing that all the time, I’ll go insane!” Sam’s eyes widened while he took my wrist and lowered my hand, but he still held it, between us.

“Poor thing,” I chuckled, shaking my head. Sam’s hand was warm and kinda soft. His rings were pretty silver bands, darkened through time, around bony fingers, suiting him well.

Despite grumbling, Sam didn’t say anything. His attention was in tracing my knuckles with his thumb. I didn’t like the silence hovering between us. I wanted to hear his voice more.

“Why did you want to know what I think of you? Afraid that I secretly hate you or something?” I smiled, observing our hands. “If that’s really the reason, I’m just kidding. I also feel like people secretly hate me, sometimes, so I’m not judging.”

Sam chuckled in disbelief and shook his head. “No,” he said, gulping. “It’s not that. It’s just… Dunno, I like knowing what you think about me.”

My heart fluttered in my chest. “Fair.” I sighed. “Does your piercing hurt?”

Without looking up, Sam squeezed my hand lightly, taking a while to answer. “Uh?” His blue eyes finally met mine. “Ah, it’s not that bad, only sore.” He moved his eyebrow lightly and clearly regretted it. It was a little swollen already.

I only nodded. Of course, he knew how to deal with that, with all the piercings he already had. His hand squeezed mine lightly again while he adjusted his position on my lap.

“Another question.”

“Shoot,” I said.

“Hypothetically,” Sam started, “if a person has been secretly in love with someone else. For years. Should they confess?”

I sighed. It was a difficult topic. I leaned back against the headboard once more, leaning my head back against it, and shrugged. “Is it better to speak or to die?” I had heard that somewhere.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like a threat,” he chuckled, playing with his rings, transferring one from his hand to mine. “So, what you’re saying is that it’s better to speak?”

I breathed a chuckle. “Ah, yeah. Totally a threat. If you don’t confess, someone will show up and stab you. And it counts for everyone.”

And Sam chuckled, too, seeming calmer now. He rolled his eyes, smirking. “No need to threaten like that. I don’t have a deathwish,” he joked and paused. “You’re avoiding the question.”

I sighed again, avoiding his gaze for a moment, drumming my fingers against his thigh. “I know. Like, it’s just that I don’t know. I’m one to suffer in silence. I don’t want to tell someone to confess and be hypocritical.”

Sam took a moment to answer, seeming to ponder what I said, pouting. “Hypocritical,” he accused in a whisper, squeezing my hand.

I chuckled, nodding. “I am.”

“A coward,” he insisted, with a smirk.

“I am,” I agreed again. “I’d rather die.”

Sam asked me if I really loved someone intensely enough to prefer dying with my feelings to confessing and having them rejected, but how could I not? People are infatuating, and I had an aching heart. I had a whole universe inside me. I felt too much, saw too much, heard too much, and everything just for because I was breathing and being alive. Anyhow, I could and wanted to love that intensely.

His next doubt was about why I wouldn’t confess if I loved people that much, but feeling too much is a double-edged sword. Too much love also meant too much sadness, and letting the love fade away seemed easier than reconstructing myself again and again after every wreckage.

Sam seemed angsty, brows furrowed, and lips pressed together while he held my hand tightly, as if afraid of something. “You say pretty things.”

I chuckled. “They’re just messy words.”

“Don’t talk like that. It’s not messy…” Sam said, seeming like he was going to add to it, but nothing ever came, so I just kept in silence for a moment, looking into those beautiful blue eyes, playing with his fingers between mine.

“Well,” I broke the silence, my shoulders dropping while I smiled, “if you say so…”

A hint of despair flickered in Sam’s eyes, but I didn’t really know what to do with that. What kind of despair was that? What if I scared him? His hand shifted against mine, still holding it.

“You can’t just sit there, being poetic and holding my hand, and expect me to answer so eloquently,” Sam murmured with a pout.

I shook my head. “I only expect you to be yourself.” I squeezed his hand.

A lot of things seemed to be going on inside his head, and I asked myself why. I liked making someone like Sam—all sulky and tough—turn into a mess with me, even if that occasionally gave me a sense of guilt.

Sam gulped. “You’re making this hard for me.”

I raised my eyebrows in curiosity and a bit of surprise. “Huh? Hard? What for? Why?” I tilted my head to look at him in the eyes as his gaze fell again.

“You keep saying that poetic and romantic stuff,” Sam said sharply. “And I’m just sitting here, wanting to tell you something, but I’m afraid you’ll rip my heart out.”

I widened my eyes a little and chuckled but in disbelief. “Rip your heart out?” I scoffed. “Why would you expect that from me?”

Sam contained himself, grumbling. A faint pain spread through my hand, given the way his nails sank into my skin. “I’m being serious, and this is not funny,” he said, trying to keep his voice firm and steady. “So stop mocking me.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “I’m not mocking you,” I tried to keep my voice soft, in contrast. “I’m trying to understand you.”

His face got redder each time. Was he that angry or annoyed? His eyes scanned my face, looking for something that I didn’t know what to be. He was panting a little. “Promise not to laugh?”

The question was childish, but I wouldn’t make things even more complicated now. “I’d never laugh at something that’s serious for you,” I said, trying to seem casual, shrugging, however, my heart hammered in my chest as I gently caressed his hand.

Nodding short and fast, Sam exhaled, humming. “Okay. You can’t laugh, alright… I’m being serious,” he said, straightening his posture and taking a deep breath.

I nodded. I had to keep calm. Be patient. “I won’t laugh. I won’t get angry. I won’t distance myself,” I reassured, holding his hand between mine.

“You won’t hate me?’

“I’d never hate you.” I smiled. “The sooner you say it, the easier it’ll be. It gets harder the more you overthink.”

Sam huffed. “You’ll say something mean after this. Gonna tell me off.”

“No, Sam, it’s clearly a sensitive topic,” I said and paused, taking a deep breath. Keep calm. “Of course, I won’t say or do anything mean. I want to know what’s going on and help you. If you want it, that is. Maybe just listen. I’ll continue here, anyway.” I made an effort to look at him in the eyes the whole time.

Sam seemed a little more desperate, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down. For a moment, I thought he would faint, but he kept sitting there, on my lap, holding my hand, breathing shakily. “I’m in love. With you.” He whimpered, eyes glassy.

My heart skipped a beat. Everything stopped. I looked at him in disbelief. Did I hear it wrong? “Huh, in love with me?” I repeated, like a fool. “You don’t have to cry about it,” I whispered, wiping a tear away before it ran down his face and ruined his eyeliner. He almost trembled in stress.

For some reason, Sam furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. “Stop with that! Stop being so patient!”

My mind blanked for a moment. Why wouldn’t I be patient with him? What else did he expect? I wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling Sam closer. “What’s it, Sam? What’s wrong?” I wiped a few tears away from his face but didn’t stop him from crying his feelings out. It was a rare occurrence, and it seemed to be exactly what he needed, practically melting into my arms.

Sam clung to me as if he depended on it, hiding his face in my shoulder. His shoulders started to shudder, and he sobbed. “Why are you acting like that?” He sounded angry.

“Like what?” I almost scoffed. I don’t know how he wanted me to act. Maybe say something mean, laugh, reject him, or distance myself, as he feared, but as he was used to. Not a lot of people genuinely liked him. “I’m taking care of you. Am I supposed to stop?” I rubbed his back in an attempt to comfort him.

He whined and sobbed again, arms tightening around me. “No. Don’t stop,” Sam said quietly, voice muffled against my shoulder, and I exhaled in relief, despite not understanding everything.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” I whispered.

Sam seemed to be falling apart while crying and sobbing, clinging, and squeezing me. His face was hot against my neck, making it humid with the tears and heavy breathing, but it was irrelevant. I held him close and squeezed him back, letting him cry out all he needed to and enjoying his presence. I pressed my nose against his hair and closed my eyes momentarily.

Slowly, his sobs were replaced by light whimpering and shallow breathing, and his face wasn’t so close to my neck anymore, though he still held me strongly. The tears were drying, the silence growing louder. “Please,” Sam whispered. His breath tickled my neck. “Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t.” I kissed his temple, letting my lips linger against his damp skin. He closed his eyes. Made a quiet, needy sound.

“I can’t handle you being that caring with me. Fuck.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “Why, my love?”

Sam tensed up again, his eyes filling with tears once more, as he held me tighter. He took a while to answer. “Makes me want to kiss you.”

A chuckle escaped my lips easily. “Then let’s kiss. What’s stopping us?”

A look of disbelief took over his face as he pulled away, just enough to look me in the eyes properly, with his eyeliner all smudged. He seemed smaller like that. Fragile. “Kiss me.”

And it didn’t take me a lot to do that. It was like a dream becoming true, making my body tingle when I felt his lips against mine, and I cupped his cheek, caressing it lightly. His skin was still hot. I finally felt the sensation of kissing those plump lips. The kiss seemed to last for an eternity, and I wanted it to last for another, but our lungs objected.

The cold air substituted Sam’s hot breathing against my face when we pulled away. I tried to clean away a little of the smudged eyeliner with my thumb while he looked at me with a mix of emotions, with passion, disbelief, anxiety. It was like he was in a daze.

“Everything alright?” I looked at him in the eyes, watching him glance at my lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam mumbled. His hands were closed tightly around my shirt.

I smiled. “My boy,” I mumbled with a peck against his lips, and it seemed like Sam would fall apart in my arms at any moment. It was hard to see him like that, all needy and shy, but I liked it. So lovely.

Sam wrapped his arms around my neck, holding firmly, taking deep breaths to slowly calm himself down. “Don’t let me go, okay?”

“Of course not,” I chuckled and pecked his lips again. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. Is that okay?” I kept giving him little pecks, trying to find out how much I could make him melt just with that, rubbing his sides.

His lips curled up in a shy smile while he nodded. “Say it again.”

“I am yours,” I repeated and kissed him, letting it last a little longer, “and you’re mine.”

Sam almost whimpered. We couldn't possibly get closer to each other, but it didn’t keep him from trying, wrapping his legs around my waist. “Hold me tighter.”

If I held him as tightly as I wanted, maybe I’d break Sam, so I held back, nuzzling his nose before kissing him again and again. “Mine, all mine,” I whispered. I had waited for too much time to say that.

⋆°｡⋆🎧🎸★ 𝖇𝖆𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 ★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

[ciwzing]

༉ 𝗚𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗽 𝗕𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀

🎀 incld: satoru, sukuna, choso, & geto

🎀 gn! reader

🎀 ‟there's no better quality time than gossiping with your boyfriend ”

𝗚𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂

biggest gossiper

literally has a time of your guys day specifically for where you guys just sit on your guys bed cozy, wrapped in each other's arms to talk shit or spill some tea about other people.

has a code name on everyone he and you guys don't like

“ain't that dora over there”

“yeah that's them, that wack ass haircut really stands out from the crowd"

will always make an eye contact with you whenever you guys hear or see something ridiculous, trying to hide his snickers with a cough

“baby, did i see that correctly”

“definitely, saw that shit clear as day”

AND you know you're gonna hear about it once you guys are home.

if he ever enter your home with a loud thud and a call of your name always followed with a giddy giggle YK THAT HE BOUTTA SPIT SOME SHIT🤭

“Baby!! you never guessed what just happened!”

ALWAYS gives you the best reaction to your gossip, never failing to let out the most exaggerated gasp ever

prob has those senses if you have gossip to spill, if Spiderman has spider sense, he has a bitch’s sense and it never fails him.

𝗞𝗮𝗺𝗼 𝗖𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗼

didn't really grasp how gossiping works the first time tbh ╥﹏╥

“didn't we hate this person? why did you just talk to them then?”

baby it's called playing nice

type of bf that if you hate someone, he gotta be their hater too

GIVES THE MOST FUNNIEST YET CUTEST REACTION EVER

“Baby guess what, remember the girl that I told you about yesterday that's been soft launching her man?”

“Yeah?”

“Her man is actually her COUSIN!”

“∑(; °Д°)”

every time you keep dropping bomb after bomb his expression just became more concerning

“oh my god, baby are they okay? (;° ロ°)”

“its fine, we hate this person”

“oh, fuck them then”

“yeah fuck them!”

(｀∀´) (⋋‿⋌ )

learns some of the most juiciest gossips BUT ALWAYS FAILS TO ASK FOR DETAILS

“That one clingy couple in our class just broke up suddenly, and they look they hated each other's guts”

“WHAT, WHY?!”

“I don't know I never asked”

𝗦𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗥𝘆𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻

you don't how he does it, but whenever you have some anger or tea to spill, he's ready every fucking time.

“who we gonna hate today, pretty?”

LOVES gossiping, not because he cares about other people, but because he loves talking shit about them

has the most creative insults tbh

you sometimes have to pause to take in what he had just said

doesn't remember all the ppl you shit talk about, you have to remind him with the stupid names he calls them

“Remember the guy that I told you about last week?”

“Baby, you have to be more specific about that”

“Omfg, the one you compared with megamind!”

“oh that motherfucker, yeah i remember him, all that forehead and can't think for shit, that's crazy”

probably the type of person that purposely points at the person you just talked about to tease you.

𝗚𝗲𝘁𝗼 𝗦𝘂𝗴𝘂𝗿𝘂

a secret gossiper tbh

ALWAYS has something interesting going on with his gossips, you could never guess just what shit he's about to say next

drops the most gasping bombshell like it's your random Tuesday

“oh yeah, one of our professors just got fired since he allegedly had an affair with one of his students”

the type of person that's quiet but he knows all of the shits about so many people, like How'd you get this information sir? (°△°|||)

ppl trust him too much that they spill so many things in front of this man, but they don't know you're the first person he goes running back to talk about it.

“they said I can't tell this to anyone…but you know that girl-”

gives the biggest stank eye when the person y'all hate walks past him AND HE AIN'T TRYNNA HIDE IT

Can and will shit talk about the person right in front their fcking face.

"Heard you talking shit about me?"

"Want me to tell you again? you might missed some details"

likes and reblogs are appreciated<33

[jessource]

TRAP (2024) SENTENCE STARTERS.

we're not gonna break any laws.

you caught me. i admit it.

it is important that my hand stays on your shoulder at all times.

this is literally the best day of my life!

he was a man who had a scarring relationship with his mother.

don’t feel like you have to stay here to be polite.

can i visit your home?

i'm gonna be right back. i'm gonna try to get you help.

i used to be brave like the storm on a sea.

sorry. i didn't mean to upset you.

[name], listen to me. your husband is the butcher.

maybe you thought i was having an affair.

i'm not following you.

i specifically said i wanted honeysuckle sour kombucha, bitch.

must be something to be that loved, right?

what a mess we made.

what's the code?

i saw you make up a lie once.

what was it about it that didn’t feel right, [name]?

she could start a cult.

a bird belongs Anywhere but caged.

…i think you’re looking for me.

i'm not great at a lot of things [name], but keeping my two lives separate is not one of them.

can i talk to you alone for a moment?

i didn’t know what would happen.

i feel such rage towards you, [name].

maybe the trap wasn't set there at the concert. maybe it was set here.

i have a dark side. you don’t want to see it.

have you lost your mind?

let me see you one last time.

that's why it can be so very lethal in small spaces.

i wonder what's down there?

no, i'm not making it up. i'm not making it up.

you’re gonna sit in your seat or you’re gonna be punished.

you are not responsible for hurting me.

when i had a second to think about it, it kinda dawned on me how this might have happened.

she looks like someone that i used to know.

that frickin’ nutjob that goes around just chopping people up?

we should have come earlier.

my father left when i was seven.

you lied so convincingly…

tell me anything you remember to help me find you.

well… the reason i wanted to talk to you… is…

there's a ghost in my house.

i held that anger for a long time.

so, what does "crispy" mean?

i’ve never felt this before.

he’s here and he’s trying to figure out a way out.

they set up a trap for him.

i'm not someone to be provoked.

[name] was really hurt by all of this.

i'm sure they've made a mistake, [name].

that would be like the worst idea.

just in case we get separated, meet me at the orange drink stand right outside the tunnel.

who were you talking to?

you’re not squeamish, are you?

[name], you keep leaving.

we can talk about it later.

"hamilton".

don’t move! hands behind your head!

hey, maybe if we all scream his name, he might hear us.

maybe i'll be a singer.

it’s funny how we knew each other so well.

you want me to come? i feel bad.

i'm sure it's a misunderstanding.

it's not too late to take up the offer.

the hell are you doing out here?

don't mess with me, [name].

i'm really glad i saw you again. i can tell that you’re upset.

the reason i wanted to talk to you... is... i think you're looking for me.

this individual is not a projection of our fears.

we'll get there when you wanted to get there.

stop telling stories! monsters aren't real.

i guess we know things without knowing them.

it was who i was.

that could never be true, everyone's in pieces.

there’s no way to get out of here, except backstage, i guess.

i want you to try to forgive them.

what's going on with those girls at school?

[name], you wanna come dance with me?

um, so, i'm sure you know how this works, right?

what’s your code? i mean… if you can say. idon’t want you to get into trouble.

this whole concert, it's a trap.

here. let me help you with that.

did i tell you, you could talk back to me, [name]?

after this, i won't leave you.

i don't want to be around people.

what would i hear at one of your lectures?

hey. why don’t we go outside for a second?

remember what the profiler said.

they’re watching all the exits. they’re checking everyone that leaves.

just come see me in like… ten minutes. all right?

i'm not supposed to tell. don’t rat me out.

wait. wait, wait, wait, wait. i gotta tie my shoe.

they gave us a code to say in each section of the arena in case we got stopped by the police. real undercover stuff.

that's unfair, i'm twelve.

wait, isn’t this one of the songs you always play?

hey, what's with all the police trucks outside and the cameras everywhere, jamie?

if we get into a confrontation with our unsub, our job is to get him alone, away from civilians as quickly as possible.

pass it forward, as they say.

they wouldn’t be real, honey. don’t let people fool you.

hey, we should climb down and see where it leads.

no dad jokes, this is serious.

we're late, this is frustrating.

i am upset. my daughter was hurt.

bro! you're strong.

let’s keep it clear who we’re dealing with.

you know, i'm kind of obsessed with him.

i don't really wanna talk about it.

she waved at me.

put me down.

you're acting strange.

i think i got a good photo.

here, you can use my stash.

[ronearoundblindly]

ooo how would ce characters react if you started decorating for autumn in august? 🤭

Ya know, right off the bat, I can't think of anyone who's downright against it, but some of them would help and some would just leave you to it. One--take a wild guess--would throw an incredible bitch-fit if he tripped over one gd thing in his way, but otherwise...

Um, there's some language but nothing adult-specific.

Most Into Autumn Decor--Curtis Everett

Okay, there's a reason I worded it that way, but I was a bit surprised, too. I would not be able to tell you if this somehow wasn't influenced by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork's "Life Is Short So Make It Sweet" series, but I truly believe Curtis would be equally into decorating for fall/autumn with you. He'd be the most active in finding decor, too, whether he's shopping with you there or just finding stuff randomly. He'd take the time to plan out and execute a whole thing in the house, and he would get the most joy out of sitting in the warm glow.

Honorable Mentions to James Mace, Johnny Storm, and Ransom Drysdale.

Mace will get into it but not as much as Curtis and for a shorter period of time. You best believe Johnny digs the campfire-and-s'mores vibes but is wary of shit hanging from the ceiling or dry stuff piled on the floor. Ransom is obviously into dressing for the season but also likes to find the most expensive version of all decor, so those beautiful, blown-glass pumpkins are a staple. Ran is perfectly fine if you want to repaint the damn walls every couple months to match the mood; he's fine with it, but he doesn't expend much effort.

Most Indifferent--Jimmy Dobyne

He doesn't hate the season by any means. He's fine with the colors. He likes when you're happy, so if the house needs to be packed with pumpkins and fairylights and shit, okay. Don't expect him to really participate in it, and don't bring rotting leaves into the house. Real pumpkins are for eating or outside.

The other reason he doesn't really care is that Jimmy spends most days outdoors for work and whatnot. He sorta just...sees autumn the whole time it's autumn, and that is enough for him.

*Most Into Halloween Decor--Jake Jensen

If you were wondering why I didn't mention Jake earlier it's because he is miles above Curtis's enthusiasm for one specific thing: spooky shit.

Jake isn't afraid to go all-out. He will make the entire house, the yard, the gd neighborhood if they let him, into a haunted experience. This is, unfortunately, to the point where you have slipped on fake blood before and bruised your tailbone. Jake is now limited to the week of Halloween itself for the more dangerous accoutrements like liquids and sharp blades. Knives and weapons stay in shadowboxes or cabinets otherwise.

No, he will not be taking questions about why they aren't the fake, safe kinds. Just let him have this.

**I don't have a name for the superlative that Lloyd Hansen wins but he is the most obsessed with curating *his look* seasonally.

Yes, I even mean more so than our sweater boi Ransom...

Lloyd is also the man who flips the fuck out if a room or the yard is littered with stuff to decorate. If it's a mess (even for a little while) he thinks it all looks trashy and can't stand that, so you gotta be kinda stealth or methodical about doing it.

Most Into DIY Decor--Ari Levinson

Project? Did someone say project???? Ari's there, tools ready, let's go.

Ari's the man who has a shed or garage full of stuff for all occasions. Sure, there are a lot of power tools and mechanic things, but he's also kept track of all the art supplies, cleaned up that hot-glue gun and twist-tied the cord nicely, and sorted everything into bins or some of the drawers in his shelves. Nails and screws for all sorts. Wall anchors if necessary. He keeps a stash of those papertowel rolls for kids projects. Tissue paper and bags for gift wrapping. He doesn't go so far as to color-code it or anything, but it's grouped together and neatly stowed away. He is always willing to participate in building something new, even if it's silly little paper things.

Most Into Autumn Activities--Steve Rogers

I don't think Steve has any issue with early sprucing for the season, but he is definitely planning where the apple-picking and pumpkin patches are and when to go. There may be fourteen different hay rides and corn mazes to get through, but don't worry, he's got a schedule! He's rewashed the thermoses for hot cocoa at the ready. He bought another stack of pie tins just in case. He printed off several new recipes to try this year, and the ones from last year have hand-written notes in the margins of what to adjust this time. So, yup, hang onto your butts because it's gonna get real busy in a few weeks...

Thank you for asking!

Damnit, these are so amazingly fun. Keep 'em coming!!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would...Asks; Ko-Fi]

[mjonthetrack]

Before anyone could take another breath, she spun around and shoved her oversized designer purse into Roman’s broad chest with a thud that made him grunt.

“Aight, Fabio, go get my shit out the trunk,” she said, barely looking at him. “And don’t be nosey ‘bout that gas can and them ropes—I brought that in case this shit was twisted. Gotta stay ready.”

Roman looked down at the bag like it had just bit him. “Who the hell is Fabio?”

She was already stomping toward Josh, ignoring him.

Josh, still holding the baby, raised a brow but said nothing as the little girl reached her arms out—clearly vibing with her auntie’s chaos like it was a lullaby.

“There go my fat-necked princess,” she cooed, snatching the baby from his arms like she’d been waiting her whole life for that moment. “Yeah, you love this crazy ass auntie energy, huh? Imani been tryna make you soft.”

Baby girl let out a wild, wheezy laugh and clapped her hands, one chubby fist smacking her auntie in the cheek.

Josh stood there blinking, caught between being offended and impressed.

That’s when the boys all reacted at once.

Solo leaned in to Jimmy, whispering low but loud enough, “Yo, who the hell is that?”

Jimmy just whistled and said, “I don’t know, but she scares me.”

Jacob was doubled over already, laughing like it was the funniest thing he’d seen since cable went out. “She said gas and ropes. Bro. What kind of welcome home package is that?!”

Roman still hadn’t moved. He just stood there, purse in hand, muttering under his breath, “What in the hell just walked into my house?”

Tasha came out the screen door, spotted her homegirl, and lit up. “Ayyyye—bitch, you made it!”

“Damn right I did,” she hollered back, bouncing the baby on her hip, completely in her element. “I had to. My baby cousin out here in the damn woods raising a family like she ain’t from Memphis. She talkin’ ‘bout she found love—I said lemme make sure he still breathin’.”

Josh smirked, arms crossed now, watching her hold his daughter like she’d been there since day one.

Imani sighed, rubbing her temples with one hand and pointing at the house with the other. “Y’all go get her room ready. This gon’ be a long-ass week.”

——

Ebony was leaned back at the kitchen table like she paid rent and set rules. Long acrylics tapping against a cold glass of sweet tea, a baby on her lap chewing on one of her knuckles, unbothered by the chaos of introductions that had come before. She had her hair in those glossy, razor-sharp finger waves, and her lashes were damn near brushing her cheekbones every time she blinked.

Tasha sat across from her, peeled fruit in a bowl between them, peeling back the years like they hadn’t missed a beat.

“So how’s Compton been?” Tasha asked, cocking her head while passing the baby a banana slice. “And how’s life been since you got out, you know… the vacation?”

Ebony cracked up. “Girl, lemme tell you. Compton still Compton, but it’s watered down. These lil’ ones don’t got no code no more. Running they mouths online and dry snitching in music videos. That ain’t how we used to do it.”

Tasha laughed, “Right! Back in the day, you had to earn a name, now they just get beat up on live.”

“And don’t get me started.” Ebony kissed the baby’s temple before casually letting it drop: “Life since I got out? Quiet, for the most part. After that five bid for manslaughter and aggravated assault, I been chillin’. On parole. Still got the ankle monitor tan line.”

Tasha choked on her water. “Girl—not the tan line!”

Meanwhile, in the living room, the guys sat on couches and armrests, beers in hand, trying not to make eye contact as the words five bid, manslaughter, and parole drifted through the house like secondhand smoke.

Imani was pacing with her hands up like she was trying to ward off spirits.

“Okay—before y’all say anything—yes, she’s… a lot.”

“A lot?!” Roman said with wide eyes, arms stretched across the back of the couch. “She came in like a deleted scene from Menace II Society. Told me to get her purse and warned me about rope and gas cans.”

“She said she brought it just in case,” Solo added, serious. “Just in case what?! The apocalypse?!”

Jacob shook his head, snickering. “Nah, I like her. She thuggin’. And baby girl love her already.”

Josh hadn’t said a word, just sitting in the armchair, arms folded tight. His jaw twitched.

Imani finally exhaled and sat next to him. “That’s my older cousin, y’all. Mama’s side. Her name Ebony. She raised hell so I ain’t have to.”

Josh squinted at her. “That’s the cousin who flipped a table at a funeral?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Yes, it is.”

They all turned their heads when Ebony’s voice rang out from the kitchen, loud and clear:

“AND I’D DO IT AGAIN! Don’t speak on nobody while they in the damn casket if you wasn’t sayin’ it while they was alive!”

Tasha: “And that’s on everything.”

———

Solo was leaned low in his seat, beer halfway to his mouth, brows scrunched in quiet confusion as Ebony’s voice carried from the kitchen—sharp, unfiltered, and full of lived experience.

He muttered under his breath, just loud enough for the room, “She don’t even look like the prison type…”

Imani, sitting on the edge of the armrest beside Josh, gave him a quick side-eye and tried to quietly explain before her cousin caught wind. “She wasn’t raised with me in Memphis, that’s Mama’s side. Ebony grew up in Compton. Like... real Compton. Her life was different. Had to be different.”

But it was too late.

Ebony’s laugh rang out from the kitchen, a sharp “Ha!” that cut through the house like a knife dipped in hot sauce. Her acrylics clicked against the glass as she stood up with baby girl still in her arms.

“Don’t look like the prison type? Boy, lemme help you understand,” she said, stepping into the archway between the kitchen and the living room, hips swinging, baby on her hip like a prop in a hood goddess origin story.

“I caught them charges ‘cause I did exactly what I said I was gon’ do. Didn’t stutter in court, neither. Somebody put hands on my best friend—a man, mind you—so I put him through three walls and a windshield. Self-defense didn’t stick ‘cause I meant it.”

She kissed baby girl’s cheek and smiled like she’d just shared a casserole recipe.

“Aggravated assault, manslaughter. Five years. Ain’t no shame in my time—just know, I did what needed doing.”

The room went dead silent. Roman blinked like he had to reboot. Jacob mouthed damn to himself. Josh… tried to keep a straight face but failed, a smirk creeping in.

Imani groaned and dragged a hand over her face. “Ebony, can you—not lead with trauma today?”

Ebony smirked. “Ain’t trauma if I’m at peace with it, sugar. Now where y’all keep the tequila? Mama needs a pour before she puts this one down for a nap.”

Josh finally let out a laugh, standing to follow her to the kitchen. “You tryna drink before 3PM?”

Ebony smirked without missing a beat. “Boy I just met you and you already asking the right questions.”

———

The sliding glass door creaked open just enough for Ebony’s voice to slip through like smoke before she even lit up.

“Imani. Outside. Now. And bring ya damn self, not that church-lady smile you keep puttin’ on for these boys.”

The whole living room turned their heads as Imani sighed, knowing exactly what time it was. She muttered under her breath, “Lord, here she go…” but she didn’t hesitate. Tasha grabbed her own glass and followed, grinning like she already knew the vibe.

They stepped onto the front porch just as the late afternoon light settled over the compound like a slow blessing. Ebony was already posted in one of the worn rocking chairs, one thigh propped up, lighter flicked, and that good good curling up in the air before Imani even got the door fully closed.

The scent hit the inside like a wave—not what the house was used to—and back in the living room you could hear Jacob chuckling, “Ain’t no way she brought Cali air with her.”

Josh peeked out the blinds but thought better of stepping into that conversation. Solo whispered, “Somebody better go get the baby before she get a contact high,” and Roman just shook his head with a grin, “Nah, let ‘em talk. That’s kin workin’ out history.”

On the porch, Ebony exhaled slow and leaned back, her gaze sharp but soft around the edges as she looked at Imani.

“Alright. Talk to me. What’s really good, baby girl?”

Imani tried to front—arms folded, eyes on the horizon—but Ebony saw through it.

“You pregnant, engaged, living out here in damn near Wakanda woods, and I still ain’t heard how you been really. Don’t play with me.”

Tasha sipped slow, staying quiet but present.

Imani finally exhaled. “I been… tryna figure it out. Been holding it down out here. Shit wasn’t always easy, you know that. But I got my feet under me now. Got somebody who see me for real. Got family.”

Ebony nodded slow, puffing again. “Mmhmm. And you happy?”

Imani looked at her, eyes glinting with something that was both soft and steel. “I’m finally learning how to be.”

Ebony leaned forward, tapped ash off the porch rail, and looked her dead in the eye. “Then I’m proud of you, Imani Love. You made it out of what we came from, and you didn’t fold. That’s more than most. Don’t let nobody make you feel like you gotta apologize for finding peace.”

Imani didn’t say anything, but her eyes shimmered. Tasha quietly reached out and squeezed her hand.

Ebony leaned back, smirking as she took another drag. “Now go back in there and tell them boys they better treat you like royalty or they gon’ have a real Compton problem on they hands.”

————

The porch was slow-swaying, low-talking, and thick with the scent of Ebony’s rolled-up “West Coast wellness”, as she called it. Freddie Gibbs played low from her phone sitting in the cupholder of her chair—grimy, soul-sample looped, pure Compton grit. The kind of music that made the truth easier to say out loud.

She passed the blunt to Tasha without even looking, knowing full well the nurse would take it like she always did when the kids were in bed and the stars came out. They sat there like old heads in young bodies, legs crossed and comfortable, shoulders loose from the weight they both usually carried tight.

“Yo, Tash,” Ebony said, dragging slow, “real talk… this what peace feel like? 'Cause I done forgot.”

Tasha took her hit and let it out with a laugh that curled up with the smoke. “Might be. Or maybe it’s just the trees and the breeze and your baby-ass cousin finally having a man who don’t need directions to love her right.”

Ebony smirked, tapping her long nails on the arm of her chair. “Mmhmm. ‘Bout time, too. I was gon’ start sending applications out on her behalf.”

Tasha cackled, shaking her head. “You would.”

Inside the house, Imani held her daughter close, peeking out the window for a second before heading toward the kitchen. Jacob was half-listening to the porch convo through the screen, laughing under his breath.

“Yo,” he whispered to Roman, “Ebony really out there turning the porch into the set of Friday.”

Roman grinned, “Let her cook. That’s family healing.”

Out front, Ebony kicked her feet up on the rail, letting her body sink into the old wood like she belonged there.

“Y’all got somethin’ good here,” she said more quietly. “Don’t let it rot from the inside out. Keep the love loud. Keep the loyalty louder.”

Tasha looked over, surprised at the softness in Ebony’s tone. “You alright, girl?”

Ebony took one last hit before stubbing out what was left in a little glass jar. “I’m better than I been in years.”

And from the door, Josh stepped out, holding a plate stacked with late-night snacks—fruit, leftover mac, and two juice boxes on the side.

“Figured y’all might want somethin’ to hold you over,” he said, lifting the tray.

Ebony grinned wide, “Look at fiancé over here tryna keep his future aunt-in-law from burning down his porch. I see you, Playa.”

Josh chuckled, placing the plate down and easing into the porch swing.

“Long as you see I love her for real,” he said, soft but firm.

Ebony looked him dead in the eye. “I do. Now keep it that way.”

And for the first time since she’d pulled up on full Compton timing, there was silence—peaceful, earned.

[respectthepetty]

Season two of Chaser Game W was just as wacky as the first, but I'm going to go on record and state I believe season two was better because Fuyu really got to evolve and kept me entertain with all her hilarious facial expressions.

The finale began with the Red Devil back and back to her old habits, but instead of Fuyu immediately caving, she figured out this was her father's doing.

And when Itsuki was spiraling after Fuyu's mother visited, Fuyu was like, "You told my mother to eat poison, right?"

Because this is a color-coded family and her mother would not abide by the assigned color-coding. She also made their sweet daughter beg to not be sent away, so grandmama gotta GO!

Everything comes back to those gay penguins! I'm not even slightly upset that Fuyu's ex suggested she not tell people about her relationship with Itsuki. Not everybody can be out in all aspects of their lives, so it's reasonable to protect their child, they must rethink how not everyone can be trusted with the truth.

Our mama penguins decide that is solid advice and encourage their daughter to call Itsuki her aunt in public, so the bigots aren't mean to a five-year-old child.

But the bigots are doing the most to teach their children to hate others at a young age.

And even though my babygirl was thrown off by their decision, she also understood the reasoning behind the decision because it's clear they are in love (the color exchanges say so), and they love their child. Not telling others doesn't make that love any less valid.

But after all of that, these two show up in almost-matching outfits to tell the entire PTA that they have big old lesbian crushes on each other, so suck on that, ay yay yah!

As wild as that school scene was, I liked that it ended with the child repeating the question of "What is normal?" because two color-coded parents in love seems pretty normal to me!

Then Fuyu actually told the entire world they were in love as if the colors didn't already do that!

This is how peacefully everyone should sleep after they come out on international platforms and ruin bigoted bitches' day.

Especially this Red Devil's day since she threatened them so many times!

Even though the show went left in the last minutes by making the father be the one to say China needs to change,

And having the Red Devil take the credit for Fuyu's bravery,

I don't care because in fictional works, I want my happy endings however I get them, and this IS a happy ending.

Instead of being a poly series *sad face*, we got more of the story about two women in love!

We have Itsuki being the most adorable Heavenly Human wife to Fuyu.

And Fuyu still being the cringe corporate Black Brooder wife!

Then we have other color-coded girls in love who have witnessed the journey of our protagonists.

We have Itsuki finding other parent friends who aren't homophobic asshats.

We have grandma sending her lesbian granddaughters and cute great-grandchild gifts!

Because grandmas in QLs are really proving the Boomers didn't protest wars and fight for our rights to be wrongfully considered the bad guys now.

We have the ex-husband finally getting to live his best life too with someone who gets him.

And I got COLOR-CODED GIRLS IN LOVE.

And a babygirl.

[featheryminx]

hate post under the cut! this is so petty and purely a form of stress relief bc it’s finals season and i need some unserious venting. do not engage if ur a fan of buckt*mmy :) thanks

truly i have no words for this one. Girl what do you mean That Ship brought you so much joy you started watching 911 for them, and then stopped when they broke up? this isn’t like that egregious by their standards it just. it just boggles the brain.

why the fuck would chris meddle in this? these are grown ass men and he is a teenager who has a whole world of other problems, be serious. I also love how Those Shippers are so adamant that buck isn’t like that important or intertwined with Chris, up until they can use Chris as a plot point for their (bad) ship

okay so first of all—the 118 were never his friends. Like we gotta get that straight. He (can’t even say That Man bc that’s too ace attorney coded LOL) literally made chim & hens professional lives like, miserable? He was an active proponent of discomfort and harm and you think that the 118 is supposed to be on his side ever? no.

also like between Buck and Him, the 118 would never ever choose him. Like what the fuck does OP mean “the breakup has proven they aren’t his friends” as if there was something to disprove? There was no evidence suggesting that the 118 were his friends for that guy to even feel betrayed by. They just did not give a fuck about him.

you’re just making him italian to give him a cute plot point italian grandma? Talk about making him more and more eddie coded… like we already have Abuela we don’t need another grandma who speaks a diff language and has cute little names for buck. like this is literally just ripping off of eddies character bc you have nothing better to give this cardboard man who is Eddie Lite in every other way as well. (sorry to OP not a dig on your actual writing, it’s just the eddie-ification of your blorbo that bothers me)

WHAT IS YOU BITCHES OBSESSION WITH SAL? IF IM REMEMBERING CORRECTLY SAL WAS ALSO A WEIRD RACIST FREAK! are you weird and racist? is that why you’re obsessed with weird racists? grow up.

GET BUCKS NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH how dare you suggest that a song could apply to buck & temu and also sal/temu? gross. ALSO see above for my criticism of sal & temu obsessed weirdos.

so you think a racist, disrespectful clown is easier to stomach than someone having safe, sane, consensual sex? Like let me remind you—Temu was ridiculously paternalistic towards Buck all the time, and never respected him (first date, the way he talked about him to hen and karen) and is also canonically racist and misogynistic and also apparently has no remorse over the way he treated his beard or no respect for her as a human… and you think THAT is easier to stomach than a guy having casual sex? shows where your priorities lie.

GET MY GIRLS OUT OF YOUR MOUTH. he was so dismissive of their concerns in that deleted scene and u want more of those interactions? no baby. absolutely not.

el em ef ay oh. that’s all.

why the FUCK would he be involved, bffr. like practically, we know this is an athena plot. and also. DING DONG THE WITCH IS FUCKING DEAD and he’s not coming back. cope. seethe.

ugh i can’t add more images? okay i’ll just transcribe the post it’s short. basically it’s a snippet of a scene where Temu says “I’ve got your back”, because of course they have nothing better to do than steal from the buddie dynamic. like. that’s just embarassing.

[versegm]

Coming out of my self-imposed tumblr ban cuz this is the third post I see along the lines of "man we gotta jump ship" so here are some other ways to be social/do fandom/ect. I'm not gonna call them "tumblr alternatives" because I won't lie to you these are gonna be very different experiences from tumblr. But if you use tumblr as a way to meet new people/post your thoughts/do fandom/keep up with folks, then maybe one of these is worth looking into.

COHOST

I don't use Cohost so idk if it's good or not, but all the people who use it tell me it's A Whole Lot Like Tumblr. Got pretty mixed reviews on this one, people seem to either love it or hate it, either way you could check it out it's free.

PILLOWFORT

My main bitch, so I can actually talk about it.

Pros:

Lots of cool privacy features

Porn is allowed

Website has been consistently getting updates and listening to the userbase

No ads because it's user-funded

Cons:

Being user-funded means the website is frequently struggling with money

NEOCITIES

This one isn't really a social media, it's a host for websites.

Pros:

You can do whatever the fuck you want here

Cons:

You have to code it all yourself

If you didn't immediately skip this rolling your eyes, here are some ressources to get a blog running with minimum efforts, and a cool zine to figure out what to put on your blog.

FANLISTING

Ye Old internet way to find new peeps in your fandom. It's a list of fans. I'm listing thefanlisting.org here because it's the biggest hub of fanlistings out there, but there are plenty that aren't listed so if you've got a topic dear to your heart it might be worth googling up "[fandom/ship/character] fanlisting" and see what turns up.

Pros:

It's literally just adding your name to a list of fans. Low spoon effort.

Cons:

If you want to talk to any of the people on the fanlisting you have to actually manually contact them via email or website or whatever they provided for contact. High social anxiety effort.

Anyways that's all I got chief. You probably already heard of half of those and the other half might have made you go "hey wtf that's not at all what I use tumblr for why would I need these" and the answer is it's not my problem. I discovered these when looking for ways for me personally to do social media so if you do social media differently sorry I can't help ya. But hey maybe you'll discover something new who knows.

Preemptive answers to things I am sure will clog my notifications for years to come:

None of these are like tumblr! Look bestie this is like the fifth time people consider abandoning tumblr at this point you have to make your peace with the fact that there is no other website like this one.

The websites you mentioned are nearly empty there's no one in my community here! Bro if you want a website with lots of people you don't need me listing off where you can go you already know where people are going (aka: Bluesky) If you're so scared to be alone then invite your buddies to move there together so you can chat together idk. Be the change you want to be in the world.

I'm not gonna use these. Then you've got my blessing to not use these. I assure you you don't need to reblog this post just to tell me you won't use these. I don't care.

Anyways. Peace. Dunno how many people this is gonna be useful to, but if you wanted to branch out of the usual reddit/bluesky/twitter, hopefully this will help.

Bunch of pillowfort invite codes under the cut since I got a bunch. Sorry I got no cohost as I said I don't use that one.

[letsgobarbs]

I'm the greediest bitch when it comes to WIPs so....

First things first do tell me more about the next Chapter of Homecoming because I'm actually missing Maryam and Dave so much and I need to know how he gets those cameras in her house!

Also...

Sari In A Bar... This is the Javier Peña one yes? Yes? With the bathroom fucking? If so, more information at your earliest convenience please and thank you and I'm being absolutely normal about this one I swear, this is not at all my reaction rn:

LOVE YOU ❤️💕❤️💕

O-EM-GEE how did you know i was writing the scene where he gets the cameras in her house??? lemme give you just a teeny tiny snippet:

It was far too easy. The lock didn't put up a struggle, he hadn't expected it to. The chain on the door wasn't attached because neither of them were home. He frowned at the security alarm, the steady beeping completely stopped under his fingers. The code was her birth year— probably chosen because it would be easy enough for them both to remember. He'd need to teach her more about how to secure her house. So it wouldn't let people like him in.

...

He was always careful with his work. But he knew this was different— this place was sacred, somewhere he had only looked in from outside.

Dave should have approached this with the precision of a soldier completing a mission. Because that's what this was— recon, a way to gather information on how to best lure Maryam right where he wanted her. Feelings were never good for the outcome of any mission but they lingered anyway, simmering under his skin— thrill, joy, and some stupid semblance of hope. He needed to get rid of that last one.

He placed every camera and audio device like someone might decorate a temple— a devout worshipper in pursuit of some higher power.

Of course, this isn't the final draft, might need him to linger a little over her things.

But you know me, I need my plans and plots charted out!! And you won't believe it but I discovered the most outrageous plot hole in my own initial planning 😭😭😭 so now i gotta rework that final, main conflict of theirs.

Sari in a Bar is def the Javier Peña one based on that moodboard 🤭 but I haven't added anything to it since I shared the snippet. Howerever 👀 I've got ideas... and it's gonna be longer because she takes him home after too.

He's like we're gonna do this here? And she's like I don't follow strange men to their home... I'd take you to my place, but what if it's not worth all that fuss. And he proves to her that it's worth all that fuss and then some 😏

BUT YOU KNOW I'M GONNA BE SHARING MORE DETAILS IN YOUR MESSAGES HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

LOVE YOU BABY 💞💞💞💞

[sunnydalelibrarian]

Buffy Rewatch: Episodes 5-8

Episode 5: "Never Kill a Boy on The First Date"

Giles' little "you are not funny" look when Buffy says "Oh great I kill them, you fence their stuff!"

The Master's such a dick, but why is he actually hilarious? Orlock meets the Joker fr

Ah this is the first bit we properly see that he's in a sunken church! That's so cool, I forgot all about that

I also forgot how funny Giles is, if I wrote down all of his hilarious one-liners we'd be here all week

Emily Dickinson is actually so Buffy-coded in general

I love how for a second Buffy genuinely thinks Giles is about to be sexist about poetry but no, he's just bitching about Americans again!

Xander Angel and Owen in the one room, this girl cannot catch a break

Giles in the cold storage 😂

Aw, that was a very dad speech

Ah, the Anointed One and the age old creepy kid trope. Gotta love it!

Episode 6: "The Pack"

Hyena Xander was a total dick

The piggy 🥺 Oh god the little piggy

Oh high school dodgeball, I remember those days, they were the absolute worst

Love how Buffy was so ready to throw hands for Willow even against her other best friend

Look I know he's possessed but if Buffy doesn't hit Xander soon I'm gonna

The soundtrack of this episode is on point though

The fact that Giles is fully ready to believe that Xander's being an asshole because teenage boys just are

Oh this scene (you know the one) was unnecessary. It is definitely giving "written by a man in the 90s"

Principal Flutie really set the stakes, huh?

Malleus Maleficarum mention!

The jolt of sheer horror that went through me when we saw that woman had a baby on her back

Willow's little smirk when Xander gives himself away, that's my girl!

The first thing Xander does upon being unpossessed is run to help Willow though <3

I love how this episode really cements that Buffy and Willow are Giles' kids, Xander is that weird pet his kids brought home and he didn't want but is begrudgingly fond of

Episode 7: "Angel"

Ah yes, the episode where Angel gets a personality beyond "hot and broody"

Poor Giles, does this man ever sleep?

I'm remembering why I actually liked Buffy and Angel together at the start

"No, no, no. No speaking up. That way leads to madness and sweaty palms." Willow is so me fr

I fully forgot this entire plot line even happened

I fucking lost it when Darla pulled out the pistols oh my god

Oh shit I forgot he fucking killed her here

Oh the cross! I remember this shot vividly

Episode 8: "I, Robot, You, Jane"

Listen, I know people talk a lot of shit about this episode but it's one of my favourites

Not the CGI demon dissolving, I can't!!

"I'll be back in the Middle Ages" "Did you ever leave?" Oh I love Jenny so much, she's such an icon

Also, this episode introduced such a cool concept in terms of how medieval methods of magic intersect and/or clash with emerging technology and that's fascinating

Willow has a picture of her and Giles in her locker, that's too cute, I can't believe I never noticed that! That's her dad fr

Not Jenny rocking up to class visibly hungover 😂 have I mentioned I love her?

I love how Willow and Buffy are both dressed like teenage girls, not like they're trying to be in their late twenties already

Not Buffy's birthday being different across two shots and wrong both times 😂

The demon changing that kid's report to say "Nazi Germany was a model of a well-ordered society" - if Moloch the Corrupter thinks it's good, that speaks for itself! Take notes 2025 America!

"Those boys aren't sparklingly normal as it is!"

"Your spider sense?" "Pop-culture reference. Sorry."

Let's be honest, Jenny Calendar had my heart from the minute she pointed out the racism and misogyny underpinning the intellectual elitism of academic institutions

Wait is Jenny the first person to say Giles' first name aloud? Because I'm binge-watching and I don't think we've heard it before

The way he pulls out her chair for her. A gentleman even in the face of trying to stop a demon.

"Remember me? Your girlfriend? I think it's time we break up! But maybe we can still be friends!" Oh Willow I love you so much

"Let's face it: none of us is ever going to have a happy, normal relationship"... yeah

[lologoinsolo]

How did I come around to an idea like the Minds Us All Psychic Reader??? IM GLAD YOU ASKED!!!

Sit down so I can yap to you about this, or don’t lol. Basically I was at work, bored out my damn mind when I was listening to my music. Music is a big, big, BIG inspiration to me cause I tend to daydream a lot. I had been listening to Headlock on repeat at the time when I started thinking about Her.

To be honest, she’s a big ball of anxiety, doubt, fear, longing and worry, kinda like me but at a max level. I like her mind, very breakable. We’ll get to see more of her upbringing later and her reasonings for being on the run. She’s also heavily inspired by Jinx and Helaena, Jinx for the visions that she sees and how it fractures her reality and Helaena for how those visions don’t always make sense and no one believes her until it’s too late. Note! Those two ladies are not meant to describe how She looks, I’m trying to keep her as vague as possible. (If she does look like anyone it’s YOU)

The way I write out what she sees is I guess a play on the Boots by Rudyard Kipling poem. Boots. Boots. Boots. Men. Men. Men go mad with watching them! (Paraphrasing the poem but definitely read it! I like it, makes me uneasy and I know She would feel uneasy about it too.) it’s fun to write out what she ‘sees’ and more times than not I have to sound out the words, may not always sound correct though. Make her off = Makarov. I like her little codes.

Let’s see… what else, what else, oh!

I try to make use of radio adjectives— static buzzing, whirling, wiring. I like to imagine her as an old radio with a large antenna to ‘tune’ into the moments or ‘pockets’ of time. Kaleidoscopes are one of the best examples that I can give when it comes to ‘seeing’ those moments, they’re not always clear to her and then sometimes it’s like she’s seeing an actual movie. Doesn’t always frame perfectly in her head. It can go slow to fast like the flick of a switch.

Moments are typically just that. Moments in time, in seconds, in the past, present, or future. Sometimes she’ll see it so well she can smell what scents where there or feel the heat of the day. What she did with Ghost was the first time because there’s never been another person to ‘see’ with her. Fear and the threat of death has a fun way of making that adrenaline pump, yeah? Gotta fight to stay alive. Speaking of fighting, she’s also very weak in my opinion, never a fighter always a runner. Plus, she couldn’t fight against the 141, they’re trained to handle much stronger opponents. Shes like a “little bird”, I think she’s more of a messenger pigeon because she comes bringing messages. And then discarded when deemed no longer useful.

Anyways!! Sorry for the spouts of nonsense, I’m suffering from my sinuses being an absolute bitch and I might be possibly running a fever tomorrow because I feel a little warm. John needs to make me soup, ya know what I’m saying? Goodnight everyone!!! I greatly appreciate all the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, and overall support from you all!!!!

Thank you, Lolo❤️

[stevie-petey]

could we perchance get a lil blurb about why/how reader and dustin started their code blues, or maybe just one of their code blues before all the upside down stuff started ? love seeing their sibling relationship always and i think seeing them talking and sharing emotions with each other would be really sweet <3

dustin n reader <333 babies <333

enjoy !

"just because dad left it doesnt mean you can be a bitch."

dustins words cut through you like knives.

"okay, first off, never use that word towards a girl ever again." he rolls his eyes at you and you flick his nose, which he scoffs at. "secondly, i have no idea what youre talking about."

dustin again rolls his eyes. "yeah, you do. youve been a real b- i mean, a real jerk lately."

you want to argue with him, but the words dont seem to come. all you seem to do lately is argue with everyone. and now, confronted with your little brother calling you bitch, you find that youre exhausted.

"i have, havent i?" you finally admit.

dustin nods. "yeah."

you forget sometimes how smart the kid can be. hes only nine and yet here he is, calling you out for actions you shouldve noticed yourself. hes too young to be worrying about this.

"im sorry,"

"its okay. i get it. he sucks, doesnt he?"

"he does, but im still sorry for being such a bitch."

"i thought we couldnt use that word."

you ruffle dustins hair. "nope, youre not allowed to. i am, though."

he sighs, as if expecting that response, and starts to walk out your room. the conversation doesnt feel finished yet, however, and you call after him. "wait!'

"i gotta pee."

"okay, and i told you to wait."

he groans but sits back down on your bed. "do you wanna... talk?"

"ew!"

"i know, but... im serious, buddy. we havent really talked since dad left and i realize i kinda suck as a big sister right now." you feel guilt crawling up your throat, one of the few emotions youve felt these last few days. your dad left a few weeks ago, but sometimes it feels like its been a lifetime.

"you dont suck," dustin reassures you. "youre just... scary right now."

you snort. "yeah, like thats any better."

its quiet now, and dustin sits stiffly against your bed. he seems scared being so close to you, as if you could erupt any second, and you feel horrible for it. youre not sure what you can do, though. theres still so much anger within you, resentment and betrayal, and you dont know how to express so much without hurting those around you.

then, an idea comes to you.

"what about this. we'll call it a code blue."

dustin looks up at you, curious. "whats a code blue?"

"well, my dear brother, its something we'll do when we cant express how we feel or when we think the other sibling needs to have a talk. whenever one of us calls a code blue, the other has to answer honestly and listen as best as they can. once its over, we never bring it up again and we conclude with a hug. hows that sound?"

he thinks for a moment. "honest about anything?"

"mhm,"

"alright. i think that could work. seems less emotional."

you laugh. "i figured youd like that part."

"so... code blue?" dustin asks hesitantly.

"code blue."

you tell dustin everything, explaining why youve been so destructive and bitter and mean. he listens as best as any nine year old can, and as you tell him everything, the weight that had been pressing against your chest these last few weeks begins to lessen. slowly, during the code blue, it becomes easier to breathe.

when youre finally done, right as the last words leave your lips, dustin throws his arms around you. "i love you."

you bring a hand to his hair and kiss the top of his head. "i love you, too. dont let me get all mean again, yeah?"

"i wont."

"good."

“COME HOME” BLURB MASTERLIST

if you’d like to buy me a coffee ☕︎