#like what video games did you even ever played
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halfwayhearted ¡ 1 day ago
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Sore Eyes — Paige Bueckers.
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Fem!Reader
Summary: After finally acquiring a jersey with your girlfriend’s name on it, you want nothing more than to flaunt it to her.
Word Count: 600+
Disclaimer/s — Hi, this is gay… FLUFF, FLUFF, AND FLUFF!
A/N: Mannnn. Nobody say a WOOOOORD. FUCK 😭😭😭😭
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It first started when you received the box in the mail. Already knowing what was inside, a smile graced your lips while you brought it up to your apartment, the box tucked under your forearm.
You spotted the blonde on the couch, scrolling through her phone, fingers pressed to her mouth as she was deeply engrossed in a video playing.
That’s when you exclaimed. “Paige! Paige, look!”
At the sound of your voice, Paige lifts her head immediately, setting her phone aside and rising to her feet. Her brows knit together when she spots the package. “Hi, I’m looking. What’d you get?”
“You’ll see. Come here, we’ll open it together.”
Already intrigued, she makes her way toward you in the kitchen, her gaze never leaving yours even as you move to sit down. She takes the seat in front of you, ensuring just a smidge of contact.
Setting the box down, you grab a pair of scissors and slide it through the cracks, pulling the cardboard open. That's when both of you spot the bag, and your smile widens. “You got a shirt?”
"Not just a shirt,” you drawl, slipping the bag out and reaching for it. “I got a jersey. Your jersey.”
Her eyebrows raise at that. “You got my jersey?”
“I got your jersey!” You echo excitedly, eyes focused on tenderly taking it out of its packaging.
“You do know I could’ve given you one for free.”
That’s when you look up at her. “Paige—babe, you’re ruining the romantic part of the moment.”
She offers a laugh, placing her hands on the back of your knees and pulling you closer. “Sorry. I’m excited to see you wear it—you’ll look good in it.”
Fighting the blush that threatens to spread across your cheeks, you carefully lay the jersey flat on the table. “So, you have a game tomorrow, right?”
“I do. Did you change your mind? Are you going?” Paige questions, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as her head tilts. You hadn’t been able to attend any of her recent games in person, though you never failed to watch them on television. She’d never catch you missing any of her games.
That meant more to her than you’d ever realize.
Your expression softens and you nod. “If that’s—”
“Are you joking? If that’s what I want? Of course that’s what I want. I’ll save you a seat in the front.”
“Beautiful! Beautiful! I’ll so be there.” You paused, swiftly whipping out a permanent marker. “Can I have your autograph now or what? Let me know.”
Paige narrows her eyes, the smile on her face only broadening as she lets out a quiet huff, teasingly snatching the marker from your hand. Her eyes remain fixed on you; she leans over, then they drift down to the jersey and she signs her name.
“This could actually sell for hundreds, I think.”
Uttering your name, she moves to flick your arm. “Shut up—come on, let’s go to bed. ‘M tired.”
That’s when you stand, holding out a hand which she gratefully takes and uses to stand up herself. Using her free hand to grab your jersey, the roughness of her actions makes you frown. “Hello, Paige, what the hell? Be careful with that. That was over, like, ninety bucks if you even care.”
She nods slowly, trying (and failing) to hold in her chuckle. “I’m terribly sorry.” And with that, your girlfriend delicately hangs it over her wrist, looks over at you for approval, and when you give her just that, she places a loving kiss on your temple.
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Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) — @planetpedri + @lechrts + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ
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thankskenpenders ¡ 2 days ago
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Thoughts on Sonic 3!
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On December 10th, 2018, I was on the last day of a trip to Milwaukee. The night before, I'd attended the wedding of one of my best friends, Jake, who I've known since high school. Even though half of us were sick the whole trip, it was a great time. Derek had asked the wedding DJ to play "One Week" as the first request of the night, and proceeded to lip sync the entire song on the dance floor. On that cold winter morning in a hotel room hundreds of miles from home, Derek and I groggily checked Twitter on our phones and saw the shocking news: Paramount had teased the design for Sonic from their upcoming live action film. Even in silhouette, the shape of his face and the realistic curvature of his limbs made him look like a grotesque little homunculus. This movie was going to suck.
Six years later, I've now seen the third entry in what's become a hugely successful Sonic film franchise. It features Keanu Reeves as the voice of Shadow the Hedgehog in a fairly faithful adaptation of his story from Sonic Adventure 2. At the time of writing, it currently sits at a whopping 86% positive rating on Rotten Tomatoes, vying for the title of the best-reviewed theatrically released video game movie of all time. Critics are saying nice things about the emotional journey of Shadow the Hedgehog. Never in a million years did I think I'd see this day.
I, too, have now seen this movie, and... yeah, it's pretty good.
I'm gonna get deep into spoilers here, so I'll just say up front that I liked the movie. It feels like just about the best possible execution of this version of Sonic. But that's also damning it with faint praise, depending on who you ask.
If you're a fan of the games who didn't like the second movie, you probably won't get much out of this one, either, unless you just really love Shadow so much that nothing else in the movie matters to you. It doesn't reinvent the wheel for this film series. It's still got a heaping helping of broad comedy, cheap pop culture references, bad one-liners, and characterization that diverges greatly from the source material. This is not high art, nor is it a direct adaptation of Sonic Adventure 2. If you're the kind of person who hates this portrayal of Sonic and Eggman, or a lore nerd who'll hate that they let Shadow do Chaos Control without an Emerald, then just don't bother with this.
On the other hand, if you did enjoy the last movie, then you'll probably have a fun time here, too. Shadow is very cool. The action is the best it's ever been. There's a bit more focus on characters from the games, and less on human characters invented for the movies—with the exception of Agent Stone, who's in this a lot because everyone likes him. There's a lot of SA2 fanservice. They even play "Live and Learn." It's a fun time! Be sure to stick around through the end credits.
And now, to dig deeper, let's get into the spoilers! I'm gonna jump around a lot and talk about different aspects of the movie, spoiling everything along the way.
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Shadow and his reams of lore
Here's the main thing you came for: Shadow is great in this! They really did him justice. Keanu Reeves is extremely solid in the role. He can be a bit flat as an actor sometimes, but I think he did well here. He can be tough and menacing, but he can also be earnest and emotionally vulnerable. Good casting call. Excited at the prospect of seeing more of him in the future.
Really, as a Sonic Lore Nerd I'm most interested in discussing the changes they made to Shadow's backstory. I'm sure there will be many fans upset with the changes, but for the sake of streamlining a complicated backstory that was subject to a bunch of retcons and multiple layers of amnesia and fitting it into a 110-minute movie, I think they generally made smart choices.
For one, Gerald didn't create Shadow using Black Arms DNA, because Gerald didn't create Shadow at all! Instead, Shadow arrived on Earth inside a meteor, and Gerald was merely the prominent GUN scientist who studied him after he was captured. (That meteor does have very strong Black Arms vibes, though, so I wouldn't rule out the possibility of them exploring that stuff in the future.) This simplifies things a lot and allows Shadow to be a direct foil for Sonic, kind of a version of our hero who was treated as a lab rat and lost the only human he considered family instead of finding happiness like Sonic has. Then later Shadow hurts Tom and Sonic wants revenge, and it mirrors Shadow's feelings about Maria, and after they fight they can empathize with each other over this, Shadow sees the error of his ways and helps save the world, yada yada yada. You get it. People predicted 95% of this movie's plot from the trailers, but it's effective.
Likewise, all of the stuff about creating Shadow as the ultimate life form who's immune to all disease to cure Maria's illness is completely cut out. Shadow's still called the ultimate life form, but he's treated as more of an energy source than a genetic research project here, playing off of the stuff about Eggman wanting to harness Sonic's natural Chaos Energy in the movies. The original intent behind the ultimate life form project was always hard to explain in the games and doesn't even come up that much, so I don't blame them for cutting it.
Because Gerald isn't doing genetic experiments and creating artificial life, the Biolizard also doesn't exist. It does, however, appear in an old monster movie Shadow and Maria watch in a montage, with Shadow later commenting that he worries he's a monster like the one he saw in the movie. That's a clever way to include it, I think.
The ARK sort of exists. There was no space colony back in the '70s, all of the events of Shadow's flashbacks just took place at a secret GUN base on Earth. Fair enough for a version of the story ostensibly set in the real world. The big space laser in the third act of the film is obviously supposed to evoke the ARK, but it's referred to as simply the Eclipse Cannon. It's still not a full-blown space colony, just a weapon of mass destruction Gerald designed for GUN in exchange for his release (while also secretly planning to use it to blow up the planet in an act of revenge). I am, however, pleased to report that the Eclipse Cannon still has a giant Eggman face on it.
And as for Maria: I like her in this! She's obviously not going to get a ton of screentime, and she's always going to be a very straightforward character, but she's more playful and lively here. She teases Shadow for being grumpy and plays with him a lot. She feels less like this perfect embodiment of everything good and pure in the world and more like an actual kid. She's still not a complex character, but it works.
And the most important question: do they show a child getting shot and killed by the military? The answer is almost. In the flashback, GUN soldiers chase Maria, Shadow, and Gerald and ready their guns, but the young Commander Walters (who's in his 20s rather than being a kid) grabs them and tries to stop them from firing on a child. In the chaos, a soldier fires, missing Maria but hitting a generator that then blows up and kills Maria. So, y'know, close enough I suppose.
So, yes, many of the details change here, but they captured the gist of Shadow's story from SA2. The emotional core is there. I will say, though, I almost feel like Shadow isn't in this movie as much as I thought he'd be? I think he's used effectively in all of his scenes, and they make room for his backstory, and BOY does he get to kick ass in his fights, but for much of the middle part of the movie he's overshadowed by Ivo and Gerald. Though this might be a compromise to leave more screentime for...
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Tails and Knuckles
I'm relieved to report that Tails and Knuckles both get a good amount of cool stuff to do in this! They don't feel like an afterthought.
I was worried that Tails in particular would completely fall by the wayside, since even his debut movie didn't entirely know what to do with him. But he's good here. He pretty much just feels like the Tails from the games at this point, especially since they dropped that fawning admiration he had for Sonic with that running gag of him going "Only Sonic the Hedgehog could do that!" He often chimes in as the one who wants Team Sonic to stick together when Sonic and Knuckles bicker. He particularly gets to shine in the Mission Impossible-inspired heist sequence at the GUN headquarters in London that serves as the climax of the second act, which feels like it was tailor made to let him shine as the tech guy of the team. He also gets several opportunities to swoop in and catch someone for a save in an action scene. He's good in this!
Knuckles is... fine. He's definitely fallen into the role of the comic relief dumb bruiser since joining the good guys, but he's at least a little better than he was in his own streaming show. The jokes lean more into him just being really brash about his strength and skill, rather than him being this archaic warrior who doesn't understand anything about the modern world. He also gets a few more serious bits in the back third of the movie where he gets to shine a little more, so overall it evens out to him being fine. They could've done way worse.
As for the relevance of the Knuckles show: Knuckles is now said to be the guardian of the Master Emerald, like in the games, though with no Angel Island this amounts to him hiding it somewhere for safekeeping. It's eventually revealed that he just gave it to Wade, who gets exactly one scene (sorry, Wade-heads) for a joke about him using the Master Emerald as a hockey puck. So, the miniseries explained why Knuckles has a connection with Wade. That's it! Also I think Knuckles might use the Flames of Disaster a bit in fights, but they never called the technique out by name, so I never really thought about it. So, yeah, the six-episode streaming miniseries about Wade bowling has zero meaningful relevance to the Shadow movie. Who could have seen this coming?
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Miscellaneous humans
For that matter, the human supporting cast is MASSIVELY downplayed in this one. Tom and Maddie are there for two key sequences (the beginning of the movie and the GUN HQ heist), but otherwise they disappear for long stretches of the movie. They don't go to Japan in act I, nor do they go to space in act III, and there's no subplot for them during those periods, either. There's nothing like the wedding subplot in Sonic 2 where they'd constantly cut back to Hawaii for comic relief with the humans and only reveal why this was relevant to the plot near the end. (There's also no random dance battle in Siberia.) If a human character is here, it's because they have something to contribute to the plot right away. Most people will probably consider this an improvement, and I'd certainly say it makes for a much tighter script, though I have to remind everyone that I thought the wedding being a GUN sting operation was such a funny twist that I'm a defender of the Hawaii subplot.
On the subject of Tom, something funny I've noticed is that they've just completely downplayed the fact that Tom and Wade are cops. Tom being a cop never comes up once. Wade being a cop only gets referenced via the fact that he's practicing hockey on the roof of the police station in his one scene, but he's not in uniform or anything. They clearly got the memo that we don't want Sonic to hang out with cops.
Here's something else funny: Rachel and Randall got character posters, but they're actually not in the movie! Not technically, anyway. During the heist sequence at GUN HQ, Tom and Maddie use some gadgets Tails invented to holographically disguise themselves as those other characters. But the real Rachel and Randall never show up in the flesh. It's a very odd way to shoehorn the actors into the movie. (Jojo is also absent. They did not give her Amy's role of being the girl who reminds Shadow of Maria. Instead they just let Sonic have the big heart to heart with Shadow that makes him switch sides.)
You know who IS in this movie? Krysten Ritter. Not as the voice of Rouge, as the fandom once hoped, but as a director for GUN. She gets like three scenes and she feels completely checked out the whole time. Can't say I blame her! She's not really a character, just a plot necessity. Commander Walters dies in Japan but gives Sonic one of two keycards needed to activate the Eclipse Cannon, and then Ritter's character assumes Sonic stole it and labels him a bad guy. So that's why they have to break into GUN HQ in the second act instead of just talking things out with them. Still, I am at least relieved that Sonic doesn't work with GUN for most of the movie.
I gotta be honest: when Walters pulled a credit card-shaped object out of his pocket, I thought he was about to give Sonic another Olive Garden gift card as his final act before dying. Part of me wishes that happened.
The supporting human character in this who really gets to shine is Agent Stone, which I'm sure most fans will agree was the correct choice. There's a LOT of Agent Stone in this. He's good. I don't have much to say about him, but he's fun as usual.
But, of course, the ones who steal the show are Jim Carrey, and his costar Jim Carrey.
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The Robotniks
I've gone back and forth on whether or not I can actually see movie Robotnik as Robotnik. I think with this third and final entry in the Jim Carrey Robotnik Trilogy, I've landed on... yeah, that's just Jim Carrey playing a Jim Carrey character. He's absolutely having fun with the role, and I enjoyed watching him, but I think a lot of that comes down to the fact that I'm a millennial who grew up watching Jim Carrey movies. If you didn't like him before, this movie will probably be nails on a chalkboard to you, because now there are two of him.
Ivo's arc here leans very heavily into the fact that he grew up as an orphan and never knew his family, a thing offhandedly mentioned in the first movie that's never been a thing for any other version of the character. Here, he learns that he has a living grandfather who's also a mad scientist, and it feels like a hole in his heart has been filled. It certainly makes sense for a place to take this version of the character, and it fits with the movie's themes of finding and losing family, but the cartoonish, childlike affection Ivo feels towards Gerald and all the scenes of them frolicking and dancing together have basically nothing to do with the characters from the games. He's a fun villain for this movie, but he's overwhelmingly used as comic relief this time rather than as a serious threat. He doesn't particularly feel like Sega's Dr. Ivo Robotnik, the arch nemesis of Sonic the Hedgehog who'd take over the world with an army of robots and a fleet of airships in the span of a day if Sonic wasn't around to stop him. He's a guy who lives in a big crab robot and has some drones. He has more in common with Carrey's depictions of the Grinch or the Riddler or Count Olaf than Dr. Eggman. Though he does, at least, finally get his outfit from the games by the end of the movie. So that's something. And also he's in a fat suit now. They only make jokes at the expense of his weight a little. Hooray...?
Gerald, meanwhile, is... largely the same character as movie Eggman, but older, so they can make jokes about him having saggy flesh and smelling funny and needing dentures. (Also, his voice kind of sounds like Homer Simpson sometimes?) To his credit, Carrey absolutely nails the handful of more serious scenes Gerald gets, whether it's Maria's death or his sinister turn when he reveals that he actually wants to destroy the Earth. But then it's right back to goofs about there being two of the same guy. Even the final battle features a lot of slapstick shenanigans with the two Robotniks fighting each other. I was able to enjoy the absurdity of it all, but if the humor doesn't land for you the dual Jim Carrey schtick is a hell of a lot of the movie. I wouldn't be surprised if there was more Gerald than Shadow in the movie, when you go and tally up their screentime. I was able to enjoy the sheer absurdity of it, but your mileage will vary.
I will, however, say that the split screen stuff they do with the two Carreys is EXTREMELY impressive, from a filmmaking perspective. They were absolutely flexing with their ability to pull the effect off. They don't rely on cheap tricks like cutting a lot, or having shot/reverse shot scenes where you're looking at the back of a body double's head. Instead they have a lot of long takes where the two Robotniks are talking to each other, you can see both of their faces, and they'll even hug and touch each other a lot, and the whole time the conversation maintains a natural pace like it really is two actors playing off of each other. It's really well done. It's an incredibly silly idea, but boy did they commit to it.
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Sonic
I've hardly said anything about Sonic himself in all of this. It's his movie, isn't it! Well... I don't know, he's fine.
I feel like movie Sonic is a known quantity at this point, and either you like this take on the character or you don't. There was some speculation early on that this was supposed to be a younger Sonic who would grow into being the character we know from the games and comics, the one who's still got lots of quips but is also kind of aloof and cool, a free spirit who goes where the wind takes him, a figure the other characters look up to. And... no, that didn't happen. Once again he gets more serious as the stakes are raised, and he's totally badass when he goes Super, but the rest of the time he's still a little goober with tons of generic one-liners who learns schmaltzy lessons about the importance of family. He's still constantly going to undercut the tension of most scenes by cracking a pop culture reference that will make the average American parent go "haha I've heard of that." I don't think they're ever gonna change that. I think this just what the writers think Sonic is like.
And, again, for what it is, it's fine. He's a little annoying. You already know how you feel about movie Sonic. This third entry won't change that. But they do, at least, have him say "Talk about low budget flights, no food or movies... I'm outta here!" before jumping out of a helicopter. As my thoughts on the climax will show, I am not immune to fanservice.
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The climax
God, the climax is SOOOOO fucking good. It's fantastic. Easily the best action these movies have ever done.
Rather than saving Super Shadow for the team-up with Sonic at the end, they have both of them go Super to fight each other first, and they just go full DBZ with it, fighting across the entire planet. It absolutely rules. I think this is the new coolest fight the two of them have had in anything ever. And then they have to stop the Eclipse Cannon together, and sure, there's no Biolizard. But Gerald DOES release a swarm of GUN Hunter robots, and the ensuing space battle turns into some Gundam shit. It's good! It's so good!!! The movie's flaws kind of melt away for me here when I'm watching Super Shadow take out an army of robots with Chaos Spears on the big screen. What a timeline we're living in.
And yes, they play "Live and Learn." They had to. They knew the assignment. They actually play a slight remix, but it's still got the original vocals, so it's perfectly recognizable. Actually, the tune of the song is used as a leitmotif for Shadow throughout the movie, first introduced via an acoustic guitar version played by Maria, and I really love that. I've been begging these movies to use more music from the games the whole time, and I'm glad they finally did so here. (They also use the traditional level clear jingle early in the film, and Eggman's theme from SA2 is very briefly used as a ringtone.)
... Anyway, uh, meanwhile Eggman, Tails, and Knuckles straight up just kill Gerald to save the world? They unceremoniously knock him into an energy field at the end of their slapstick fight aboard the Eclipse Cannon and he disintegrates like he hit a bugzapper. It's over in an instant. It's not graphic or anything, but it's, like... I didn't expect them to show it, or for it to be such a casual murder! Eggman has one quip about it and then immediately moves on.
Shortly after this, Eggman and Shadow sacrifice themselves to stop the Eclipse Cannon. Shadow's sacrifice doesn't stick, obviously (he's revealed to be alive by the end of the second stinger—pretend to be shocked), but Eggman's probably dead dead. I seriously doubt Jim Carrey's gonna come out of retirement for these movies again. His final moments before the big explosion are also SO dragged out and belabored. He has a dramatic final line like ten times in a row. It really just feels like the series saying goodbye to Carrey. And, again, it feels like a fitting enough end for this Eggman's arc, but it's an odd adaptation of the character from the games.
And so, that's what we're left with. This is far from Sonic Adventure 2: The Movie. It's not that, though there are many, many references made to that game in particular. It's a sequel to the film Sonic the Hedgehog 2 that has a similar tone and style, but Shadow and Gerald are in it, and Shadow gets some really cool fights, and there's a liiiiiittle more focus on stuff from the games than last time, and the script's a little tighter. If that sounds fun to you, you will have fun with this. I know I did. If it doesn't, you're probably better off waiting for them to inevitably do an animated reboot whenever this live action series runs out of steam.
It hasn't quite run out of steam yet, though...
The post-credits scenes, and the future
One of the big questions going into this was: what's next? How do they top a Shadow movie with heavy Sonic Adventure 2 overtones, in terms of hype for the fans? How do you fill Eggman's shoes after Carrey retires, for real this time? There are still more fan favorite rival characters to get through, but how many movies in a row can they introduce a furry foe for Sonic who inevitably turns good and helps him stop a larger threat by the end? And when the hell are we gonna see the girls?
Well, we now have our answer, and it's one I'm cautiously excited for: a whole army of Metal Sonics, and Amy!
Yes, Amy! Finally!! It's an absolute crime that we've gone three whole movies and a streaming miniseries without including the female lead of the series. I've complained about this ad nauseum (and also the fact that they cut Rouge from the story). But at least now they're finally doing something about it.
But now the question is, how will they characterize Amy? Sega's struggled with her for years, and there's a million different directions you can take her. Her one scene here has her smashing a bunch of Metal Sonics and wearing a cloak for the sake of a dramatic reveal, which gives her the vibes of a mysterious, badass action girl. This is, of course, completely different from how Sonic and Amy met in the games. What will her personality be like? She doesn't speak here, so who will they get to play her? Where did she come from? Will she even have a crush on Sonic? All of these have yet to be determined. So, like, I'm hyped to finally see Amy, a character who should've been in the movies from the start, but they could so easily end up playing it safe with an incredibly boring girlboss version of Amy who's no fun at all. We'll have to wait and see.
(My prediction: they're going to try to cast either Zendaya or Ariana as Amy.)
Metal Sonic, likewise, is very exciting, and he looks perfect. He looks just like the design from the games. But the question is: what will they do with this army of Metals? Will they be lead by one main Metal Sonic, perhaps Neo Metal Sonic, who gets to be a proper bad guy? Will they take some cues from Sonic CD, Heroes, and the OVA, or do something completely original? Where did they come from? Were they activated as a failsafe after Eggman died? Did they and Amy come from some sort of bad future, riffing on Sonic CD's time travel? Will they explore the fact that Metal wants to be the one and only Sonic? Or will they just be an army of disposable robot grunts for Sonic and friends to mow down like it's a Dynasty Warriors game, while some other villain takes center stage?
It could go so many different ways, and some prospects are more exciting than others. I mean, the Knuckles show had endless possibilities for what it could do with him, and none of the options on my bingo card were "Pachacamac's ghost tells him to help Wade win a bowling tournament." And while I'm a sicko who thinks it's funny that the Knuckles show is what it is, forgive me for keeping my hype about Amy and Metal Sonic in check here until we learn more.
Regardless of what they do, it'll still be hard to top the hype of Shadow, and it'll be hard to fill Jim Carrey's shoes for general audiences. So despite this clear statement of intent, I have no idea what the future of this film franchise holds. But regardless of what they do, I can say one thing for certain: the kids in my theater were hyped as hell for it. They popped off over Metal Sonic, and they were screaming their heads off with excitement over Amy. I heard a teenage girl on the opposite end of my row of seats say "finally!" over Amy's reveal, verbalizing my exact thoughts. She also said that this movie was "peak," though it diverged from the games, and she hoped they'd do a movie with Silver and Blaze someday.
The kids are gonna be okay.
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maddy-k-reads-all-day ¡ 3 days ago
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Things I noticed in the Play My Way music video
Also Play My Way is canon! I will not be arguing about this with people who haven't bothered to check the several people who have not checked the SEVERAL places confirming this. That said, I will start thinking about how this connects to Amanda canon at some point and just theories in general.
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is it just me or does it look like it says: "Am in Hell?" just without the i?
When Amanda first says "No" to it being Wooly's turn he immediately looks at us. Suspicious.
That said, he seems really concerned during the whole conversation.
I find it interesting since this song is part of the continuity of the official "hide and seek" pilot tapes... that implies that this probably takes place before the first two games right? I mean, Amanda and Wooly are still somewhat friends here. That said, it's interesting that Amanda allows Wooly to have his turn, in-game Amanda wouldn't do this without being forced, but she just agrees and says: "That's fair."
Also when Amanda agrees Wooly looks really happy/excited? Which is strange... because like instantly once their separated he starts freaking out? Like why is he so scared anyway? It's his turn at hide and seek! The turn he asked for! I honestly think this was what started my little theory that prior to their falling out, Wooly was a bit more clingy with Amanda. Like more in an anxiously-attached sort of way. Like the way a shy kid hides behind their more adventurous friend.
I realized there are only so many images allowed in a tumblr post... so I'm going to make each segment a separate post alright?
Here are some non-image related things I noticed:
When Amanda says "never ends" the backdrop around her glitches.
I think the line "make believe that we have a choice what you play with me" kind of implies that Amanda doesn't have much free will over the games they play in these episodes.
The whole "it's my turn now" sequence is super interesting. Because like Wooly isn't really upset at first, but he actually gets angry about this. He seems to get scared when Amanda yells but doesn't seem to be afraid of her specifically.
Finally, in the ending scene (I've talked about the other scenes in other posts go check them out 😄)
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Is it just me or does Wooly suddenly look... really unsettled about this question? And Amanda looks really... sarcastic? Annoyed? Did someone ruin her fun? Did she think she found some freedom only to realize she's still just as trapped as before?
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Then Wooly makes THIS face. What are you hiding Wooly I'm onto you!
Also, Amanda looks really happy when she says "It is" it's us... I wonder who she's seeing. Like... us literally or? Kate? Or Riley? Hmm... I'm inclined to think since this takes place in the library before the first game (that's my theory anyway) that she realizes this is Kate. Like... she recognizes Kate. And Wooly kind of awkwardly backs away when she does so hmm...
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Also this frame with Amanda looking tired and sad as she holds the hands off all the other kids trapped in the tapes (that's my interpretation anyway). OMG PRECIOUS SWEETHEART I AM SO SORRY I EVER DOUBTED YOU!
These poor kids man... I hope they get some sort of happy ending. Like... at least release them even if they are dead. Like their souls find peace PLEASE.
Also Wooly with Wooly's actual VA showing up late like: I'm ready for the music video! Was hilarious and cute.
Anyway I'm gonna go. I'll probably talk more about this later. Let's discuss!
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writerfae ¡ 2 days ago
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Christmas movie au Advent Calendar 🎄
Day Twenty-One: (☃️)Snow globe(☃️)
Christmas special tag list: @bunnymermaidsblog @deadlycupid @dustylovelyrun @ladywithalamp @sleepy-night-child @theguywithnonickname
After dinner, they sat cuddled up on the couch.
Aiden made himself a home in between Talon’s legs, head leaning against his chest and Talon’s arms securely wrapped around him.
Talon wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, freezing this moment in to put it in a snow globe and hold on to it forever.
It felt an awful lot like the calm before a storm and he pulled Aiden even closer to himself.
“What was Christmas like for you? Before your family stopped celebrating, I mean?” Aiden asked and Talon froze for a second.
“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to talk about it,” he added quietly, fingers drawing patterns near Talon’s collarbone as if to soothe him.
“No, I want to.” Talon gulped. “It’s just… it’s been so long…”
Yet he remembered it vividly, he just hadn’t allowed himself to think about it.
“When I was younger, Christmas was my highlight of the year. We usually spent it at my uncle Kieran’s house, because it was big enough to host such an event. And it really was an event. Most of my family was there, as well as my uncle’s friends.
There was a huge Christmas tree in the main hall and decoration everywhere and the largest table I had ever seen, filled with so much food us children thought it could feed a whole village.”
He chuckled.
“Uncle Kieran always hosted nice Christmas parties like this with music and buffet and a present exchange. It was a sight to behold and everyone had so much fun. I think you would’ve liked it. It was like in one of those Christmas movies.”
Talon’s hand found its way in Aiden’s hair as he kept talking.
“But what I always liked best was Christmas Eve before it, where it was just my parents, my sister, Kieran and me.
My mom would’ve prepared dinner and even got dad to help her with it and my uncle played with us children. He taught me a new Christmas song to play on either the violin or the guitar each year.”
He smiled fondly, lost in the memories. He had almost forgotten how he had loved the holiday.
“My sister and me had to play something on the instrument before we got our presents - my family was very traditional when it came to things like this. And then we got our presents.
My uncle always got me the things my dad would never have bought for me, no matter how much I begged him. Stuff like video games or action figures.
One year he gifted me a violin, way too valuable for a child my age, but he said that a professional needed a professional instrument.”
Talon’s father had been skeptical if this was a good present for a five year old, but Kieran had insisted.
He had his first own violin when he was even younger, he claimed.
“Talent needs to be supported,” he said, laying his hand on Talon’s head. “And Talon has plenty of talent.”
Talon wanted to be a musician back then, but that childhood dream had died with his uncle, probably even before.
After all, he’d inherit a family business.
“That sounds nice,” Aiden whispered, as if afraid that him speaking any louder would scare Talon away.
Talon nodded.
“He was. And with his present came a Christmas card. He wrote one for me every year, addressing it to “his favorite nephew”, until the very last Christmas we shared together before he…”
He fell silent.
“I still have all of them, in my apartment somewhere. I couldn’t bring myself to leave them behind when I moved out. It was always our little tradition.”
He hadn’t even noticed the single tear running down his cheek before Aiden shifted in his lap and leaned up to kiss it away.
“You must’ve really loved him. I’m sorry,” he cupped Talon’s cheek with a hand.
Talon leaned into it, closing his eyes.
“I did.” He opened them again to look at Aiden. “Thank you.”
His voice was barely about a whisper but they were so close Aiden understood it nonetheless.
He kissed him then.
Because he wanted to and Aiden was right here, in front of him, and life was too short to miss out on even the smallest chances he got to do it.
After a while, Aiden pulled away, taking Talon’s face in both of his hands and Talon almost started to tear up again just at the gentleness of this gesture.
“Your uncle and the Christmases you shared with him sound really great. I’m sorry that you lost all that. But I hope you’ll at least find your joy in Christmas again. I think your uncle would want it, too.”
He was probably right with that.
For so many years Talon had been busy pushing away all the negative feelings regarding his uncle and Christmas, that he didn’t notice that it kept out all the good feelings and memories he had, too.
All it took for him to achieve this clarity was to be sent into this little Christmas-loving town of all places.
That and the person in front of him.
Aiden had given him so much. He deserved to know the truth. Despite that knowledge weighing down on him, he smiled, putting his hands over Aiden’s.
“I did find it. Thanks to you.”
Aiden let go of Talon and leaned back, just looking at Talon.
“I’m glad,” he said then and smiled.
Shortly after, Aiden excused himself to go get them something to drink and Talon was left alone in the warm living room of Aiden’s house.
It was already cozy to begin with, but the Christmas decorations that were added recently gave the room a whole different charm.
Talon found it comfortable here, there was a feeling of warmth and safety in the air.
Like a magical aura surrounding the room.
Talon let his eyes wander through the room, taking it all in.
This here: this room, this house, the farm… Talon promised himself to find a way to protect it, no matter the prize he had to pay.
His gaze got stuck on something that sat on the mantelpiece of the huge fireplace, something he hadn’t noticed before.
He stood up to get to look at it from up closer.
It was a snow globe, he realized as he stood in front of the fireplace.
A very pretty snow globe, big and heavy enough that he needed both of his hands to be able to properly hold it.
Inside the snow globe was a little scenery:
Snow covering the floor and dusting the four Christmas trees in the background and before it a prettily decorated carriage loaded with a bag of presents, drawn by a single white horse and with no one less than Santa himself holding the reigns.
Next to Santa, a little girl with black curls sat in the carriage. Maybe she was supposed to be an elf or an angel, from the look of her it could’ve been both.
The pedestal the globe stood on was red with little handmade decorations in gold and green drawn on it. In the middle of it stood a name:
Ranva.
It was a pretty sight and as he slowly turned the little clockwork key on the back, gentle glistening snow was swirling around the globe.
He smiled to himself, carefully setting the snow globe down again.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Aiden’s voice asked close to his ear and Talon was glad he had put the snow globe down already, otherwise he would’ve most likely dropped it.
“Yes, very.” He turned to look at Aiden, who stood next to him, eying the snow globe fondly.
“It was my mother’s,” he said, reaching out and gently swiping his finger over the engraved name on the pedestal.
“She got it as a gift from her parents when she was little, cause the girl looked like her. It was one of the few things she took with her as she came here.”
He smiled.
“It was kind of our tradition, you know? Each year for Christmas she put the snow globe on the mantelpiece.
And each year on Christmas Eve she took it from its rightful place, sat down on the couch with it and let my brother and me cuddle up to her, telling us the story about a girl and how she got to help out Santa.“
A chuckle escaped his lips.
“It was the only time we were allowed to hold it, otherwise it had to remain where it was. My mom wasn’t really a strict mother but she took this one rule very serious.”
He sighed.
“The first two or so year after her death, we couldn’t put the snow globe up for Christmas, because father would freak out about it.
I put it in my room, once, because it made me feel like she was with us for Christmas, you know? But dad saw it and had a mental breakdown. I didn’t dare to put it back up ever since.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Talon said, grabbing Aiden’s hand.
Aiden squeezed their joined hands lightly, then he let go and used it to brush away the tears gathering in his eyes.
“It’s okay. The years after her death have been hard, but he’s better now. Now when he looks at it, he’s smiling, not crying. We have it up for the fifth year in a row this Christmas.”
“That’s nice.” Aiden smiled sadly. “It is…” He looked away.
“What is it?” Talon asked, making Aiden look at him. “What’s wrong?”
Aiden sighed, closing his eyes.
“I was just thinking about how this will probably be our last Christmas here.”
He opened his eyes to look at Talon and for the first time since they knew each other Talon wished those eyes wouldn’t look at him so directly, so he didn’t have to see the sadness in them.
And so that Aiden couldn’t see the guilt in his.
“What are you talking about?”
Stop lying, Talon scolded himself. You know exactly what he is talking about. You need to tell him.
“It’s senseless to keep up hope. We won’t be able to get enough money to save the farm, so we have to take the offer of these people.
Mr. Hawkins made a good offer, it will be enough to start a comfortable life someplace new but… it kills me to think about losing the farm. Not just not living or working here anymore, but it just being… gone.
Thinking about some stupid hotel or mall or whatever it is that they want to build here and that this town doesn’t need standing in its stead. Generations of family history lost…
I don’t want to be the one of my family who failed. I don’t want to be the reason father loses his whole legacy. Our legacy.”
His grip on Talon grew more desperate with every word and Talon’s heart broke at the same time as Aiden’s voice.
“He barely survived losing mom.”
Tears threatened to fall, but Aiden didn’t cry again. Didn’t allow himself too, probably.
Too strong for it.
Too proud.
“I don’t want him to lose the place that he made his home with her, too.”
Tell him, his mind screamed. You need to tell him.
Talon wasn’t as strong as Aiden, he did start to cry, silent tears falling from his face without his consent.
This was it then, the final moment. The one that would ruin everything.
But he couldn’t keep going like this, lying to Aiden about it all.
It would be selfish, dishonest, disrespectful.
It would be no basis for a relationship.
“I’m sorry, Aiden,” he said, grief tying up his throat. “I’m so so sorry.”
His reaction surprised Aiden so much that he let go of him.
“What’s wrong?”
Concern showed in his eyes, concern for Talon, even though it was Aiden who had all the worries.
And Talon was just about to cause him even more.
He didn’t deserve Aiden’s concern.
“Aiden, I-“ Talon took a deep breath.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
25 notes ¡ View notes
kathlare ¡ 3 days ago
Text
unfinished business
Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman
Summary: Amelie finds herself confiding in Gracie Abrams backstage about an unexpected encounter with Lando Norris at a recent party. Their conversation unravels Amelie's unresolved emotions and the complicated history between her and Lando.
Wordcount: 1.2 k
Warnings: just fluff
request over here!
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August 7th, 2024 - Los Angeles, CA
Amelie sat on the leather couch in Gracie Abrams’ dressing room, the lights from the vanity mirror casting a soft glow on her features. She looked exhausted but content, having just finished a grueling leg of her Emails I Can't Send tour in Asia. It felt surreal to be back in Los Angeles, where the bustling energy of the city mixed with the excitement of Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour. Amelie was opening for Taylor later this month in Mexico, but for now, she had a bit of time to herself before the madness started again.
Gracie sat beside her, adjusting her stage outfit in front of the mirror. Gracie had been kind enough to let Amelie hang out in her dressing room before her own set, and it was a relief for Amelie to finally have someone to talk to.
—So, I ran into Lando again,— Amelie muttered, her voice laced with frustration.
Gracie’s head snapped up from the mirror, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. She already knew about Lando—the history between them was no secret. From their days playing video games in 2020, to their short but intense relationship in 2021, Gracie had heard it all. She knew how much Amelie tried to move on, but no matter how hard she tried, Lando’s presence lingered in the back of her mind.
—No way, where?!— Gracie leaned in, her eyes wide with excitement. —Spill, I need details.—
Amelie took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. —It was at Penelope's birthday party in Monaco, just a couple of weeks ago. Honestly, I didn’t even know if I was ready to see him again, but there he was.— She paused, her frustration bubbling to the surface. —And he looked... he looked so damn good. Like, it’s not even fair. How does he do it?—
Gracie smirked, her lips curving into a mischievous smile as she turned fully to face Amelie. —Okay, but did he say anything? Or was it one of those 'awkward glance across the room while the sexual tension suffocates everyone else' kind of moments?—
Amelie let out a dry laugh, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. —Oh, he said something, all right. He came over to say hi like nothing had ever happened between us, all casual and charming. He even asked how I’ve been, like he genuinely gave a shit.— She groaned, covering her face with her hands for a moment before looking at Gracie again. —And then, as if the universe wanted to mess with me even more, he was just... nice. He didn’t try to flirt or make things weird. He was just... Lando.—
Gracie leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees. —And that’s what gets to you, isn’t it? That he can just be so fucking effortless while you’re sitting here overthinking everything. Classic guy move.—
—Exactly!— Amelie exclaimed, throwing her hands up. —It’s like, how dare you show up looking like that and being all calm and composed when we have so much... history. I was ready to ignore him all night, you know? I had a plan. But then he had to go and smile at me, and suddenly I couldn’t even remember why I was mad in the first place.—
Gracie gave her a sympathetic smile, scooting closer to Amelie on the couch. —It’s because you’re not really over him. And before you start with the 'I don’t love him anymore' speech, I get it. You don’t have to be in love with someone to still feel... something. Especially when things ended the way they did.—
Amelie sighed, leaning her head back against the couch. —I don’t even know if it’s him I miss, or just... what we had. It was so easy with him at first. He made me laugh when I thought I’d never feel happy again. And for a while, it felt like he was the only person who really saw me, you know? Not Amelie the actress or the singer. Just me.—
Gracie reached out and squeezed Amelie’s hand. —I get that. But if he made you feel that way, why did it go so wrong? What’s stopping you from... trying again?—
Amelie hesitated, biting her lip as she considered the question. —Because he hurt me, Gracie. He made me feel like I wasn’t enough, like my career and my life were too much for him to handle. And I know I wasn’t perfect either—I was busy, distracted, and maybe not as present as I should’ve been. But he started talking to someone else while we were still figuring things out, and that broke me. I don’t think I’ve forgiven him for that.—
Gracie’s face softened, her usual playful demeanor replaced with genuine concern. —That’s valid, Am. What he did was shitty, and you’re allowed to still be angry about it. But... do you think he regrets it? Do you think he’s changed?—
Amelie shrugged, picking at the hem of her oversized sweatshirt. —I don’t know. Maybe. He seemed different at the party, like he’s grown up a bit. But I’m scared, Gracie. What if I let him back in, and he does it again? Or worse, what if I’m just some lingering crush he can’t let go of, and it doesn’t mean as much to him as it does to me?—
Gracie leaned back, crossing her arms as she thought. —You’re overthinking it. But honestly, if you still feel this strongly about him—even after everything—you owe it to yourself to figure out what that means. Whether that’s telling him how you feel or deciding to truly let it go, you can’t keep living in this limbo. It’s not fair to you, and it’s definitely not fair to whoever comes next in your life.—
Amelie nodded slowly, her fingers drumming against her knee. —I just... I don’t want to look weak, you know? Like, if I even hint at wanting him back, he’ll think he has all the power. And I can’t be that girl, Gracie. Not again.—
Gracie gave her a firm look. —Wanting someone back doesn’t make you weak, Ames. It makes you human. But if you’re going to do it, you have to do it on your terms. You set the boundaries, you call the shots. And if he’s serious about you, he’ll respect that. If not, then fuck him. You’ll know you tried.—
Amelie let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. —I hate that you’re making sense right now. It’s so annoying.—
Gracie grinned, leaning over to bump her shoulder against Amelie’s. —That’s what I’m here for. To annoy you with good advice and remind you that you’re a badass who deserves someone who’s all in. Whether that’s Lando or not, only you can decide.—
The room fell silent for a moment, the distant hum of the concert venue filling the space. Amelie stared at the floor, her mind racing with memories and emotions she thought she’d buried long ago.
—Do you think he still cares?— she asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.
Gracie hesitated before answering, her voice gentle. —I think... if he looked at you the way you’re describing, then yeah. He cares. But the real question is, does he care enough to make it right?—
Amelie didn’t respond, her thoughts too tangled to put into words. All she knew was that seeing Lando again had stirred something in her, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to confront.
But maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop running from it.
41 notes ¡ View notes
fuqnia ¡ 2 days ago
Note
college AU! stan x fem bodied YN
stan and yn are reallyyy close friends, like REALLY close, to the point of kissing eachother sometimes. at this point, him and wendy are not a thing (unless you do poly and we could get some poly action, if not thats fine) and stan and YN like eachother romantically. stan knows he likes them but hasn't come to terms with it, while YN themselves are oblivious to their OWN crush on him because they don't understand their own feelings most the time.
can YN also be a brat (like maybe kind of stuck up and prissy) and also be flirty with people they're comfortable with?
that personality leads me to this: stan snapping and ends up fucking them (maybe confrontational? like, holds their cheeks and asks them if they're even aware how they make him feel, so fuzzy, but also so so so mad! (in a good way of course)
can i have themes of dom/sub (dom stan/sub YN), brat taming, light degradation with heavy praise, impact play?(if you're not comfortable with this one thats fine, i was just thinking maybe spanking of the ass, thighs, and clit), edging, orgasm control, dacryphilia, overstimulation, heavy teasing, and overall just mean but also super soft stan?
thankss (if this request makes you uncomfortable then thats okay)
stan marsh x fem!reader insert (college au)
(╥﹏╥) | [A/N] ah my first request ever! this is kinda long for a request, but i wanted to make it special. i'm so sorry for butchering dom/sub dynamics, i haven't really written that yet. and jesus christ i made stan talk alot in this, and i really highlighted how he would definitely wear tons of bracelets for some reason LMAO. again this was a challenge for me bcus i usually write stan kinda softish and quiet. thank u again <3 there's a scene where stan just goes on his phone during the middle of it and i almost died writing it was so funny to me
(╥﹏╥) | [CW] p in v, fingering, p eating, dom/sub dynamics, dacryphilia, edging, overstimulation assholeish stan and reader, cartman is cartman
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The room was dimly lit, illuminated mostly by the soft glow of Stan’s TV screen as he sat cross-legged on the floor, completely immersed in his game. Faint sounds of gunfire and laughter from Cartman and Kenny filtered through his headset. Stan leaned forward slightly, his hands gripping the controller tightly, his brows furrowed in concentration.
On the bed, you sighed loudly, barely glancing up from your phone as you continued scrolling through TikTok and Instagram. The endless feed of videos and posts did little to distract you from the heavy boredom pressing down on you.
You switched apps, opening Snapchat out of sheer desperation for something interesting. As you flipped through stories, your scrolling halted abruptly at one that made your stomach twist.
Bebe and Clyde were out on another date. The photo Bebe posted showed their hands intertwined across a table, captioned: “My fave person 💕.”
Your chest tightened, an uncomfortable heat settling there. You didn’t know why it bothered you so much—it wasn’t like you were into Clyde or anything. Still, the jealousy gnawed at you, bitter and unshakable.
Shaking your head, you exited the app and glanced at Stan, who hadn’t once looked in your direction despite your exaggerated sighs. He was totally engrossed in his game, his headset cushioning his ears and his focus glued to the screen.
“Stan,” you called out, your voice edged with impatience.
No response. His lips twitched slightly, like he might’ve heard you, but he made no effort to acknowledge your call.
You huffed, tossing your phone onto the bed. If Stan wasn’t going to pay attention to you willingly, you’d have to force his hand. Sliding off the bed, you walked up behind him and bent down, placing your hands lightly on his shoulders. Without hesitation, you slid into his lap, grinning as his body stiffened in surprise.
“[Y/N]—what the hell dude?” Stan sputtered, almost dropping his controller as he glanced down at you.
Cartman’s voice blared through his headset. “STAN, YOU DUMBASS! MOVE! YOU JUST GOT US KILLED!”
Stan groaned loudly, hastily muting his mic before turning his full attention to you. “I’m in the middle of a game!” he said, his tone exasperated.
You tilted your head, a playful pout forming on your lips. “Yeah, well, I’m bored,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. “Why aren’t you paying attention to me?”
Stan blinked, his expression caught somewhere between irritation and disbelief. “Because I’m playing with Cartman and Kenny? You know—my friends?”
“Uh-huh,” you said, your voice dripping with faux innocence. “But I’m more important than Cartman and Kenny, aren’t I?”
Stan stared at you, clearly unsure how to respond. His hands hovered awkwardly near your waist, his usual confidence suddenly replaced by uncertainty. “You’re being weird,” he said finally, his blue eyes narrowing slightly.
A smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned closer, your face only inches from his. “Weird? You’re so dramatic.”
Before he could reply, you closed the small distance between you and pressed your lips to his, your chapstick leaving a faint, sweet taste behind as you kissed him. It wasn’t unusual for you and Stan to kiss—your friendship had always had an element of playfulness—but this time felt different. The way your lips lingered a moment longer, the way your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his hoodie...
You pulled back, giggling softly at the stunned look on his face.
Stan’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as his grip on your hips firmed. His gaze burned with something intense, something unspoken that made your stomach flutter.
But then he exhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line as he reached up and unmuted his mic. “I’m back,” he said curtly, his tone clipped as he picked up his controller and resumed his game.
You blinked, taken aback by his reaction. He didn’t push you off, didn’t say anything else—just continued playing as if you weren’t still perched in his lap.
Cartman’s voice crackled through the headset. “About time, dude. You literally lost us the game because you were being a dumbass.”
Stan didn’t respond, his focus locked on the screen. His hands gripped the controller, his movements precise and deliberate, but you could feel the tension radiating from him.
You shifted slightly in his lap, testing his reaction, but he didn’t budge. His jaw was still tight, his eyes fixed on the screen, though you caught the faintest twitch of his lips when you leaned in close and whispered teasingly, “Am I distracting you?”
Stan’s lips pressed into a firmer line, his knuckles whitening on the controller. “You’re fine,” he said evenly, though the edge in his voice betrayed him. His blue eyes stayed locked on the screen, his jaw tight, clearly trying to pretend you weren’t there.
Before he could stop you, you reached up and slipped the headset off his head.
“[Y/N], don’t,” Stan muttered, his voice tense, but you ignored him, slipping the headset onto your own head and adjusting the mic with a sly smile.
“Hey, idiots!” you chirped into the mic.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Cartman groaned immediately. “Why the hell are you here? Don’t you have something better to do, like annoying someone else or scamming free drinks with that dumb whore shit you pulll?”
“Cartman, don’t start,” Kenny chimed in, his tone amused. “She’s just here to make sure Stan doesn’t embarrass himself again.”
You laughed, leaning back in Stan’s lap and twirling the cord of the headset. “Aw, Kenny, you’re my favorite. Cartman’s just mad because he missed me.”
“I do not miss you,” Cartman snapped. “You’re like a human migraine. Stan, can you tell your ‘friend’ to fuck off so we can actually play?”
Stan muttered something under his breath, his hands hovering uselessly over the controller. “Give me the headset back, [Y/N].”
But you ignored him, turning your attention back to the game. “Eric, don’t lie. You love when I’m around. It makes your miserable little life less boring.”
“You’re so full of shit,” Cartman barked. “You’re just here to mess with us. And Kenny’s a simp for eating this up.”
“You’re right, I am,” Kenny said, laughing. “At least she’s fun. Unlike you, Cartman.”
“Fuck you, Kenny!” Cartman shot back. “Stan, seriously, can you control your fucking lap gremlin?”
Stan sighed heavily, his jaw clenching as he grabbed the headset off your head and slid it back on. His blue eyes bore into yours, his frustration clear. “Enough,” he said, his voice low and firm.
You blinked at him innocently, your lips twitching into a small smile. “What? I was just being nice.”
“Nobody buys that,” Stan muttered, his hands settling firmly on your waist. “Not even you.”
“Come on, I’m always nice,” you teased, your grin widening as you tilted your head.
Stan stared at you for a long moment, his blue eyes narrowing as though he were weighing his next move. Then, without a word, he unmuted his mic and picked up the controller again.
“I’m back,” he said flatly, his tone cold as he resumed playing.
“Thank God,” Cartman grumbled. “She’s insufferable. Get her out of here, Stan, or I’m rage-quitting.”
“She’s not that bad,” Kenny said with a laugh. “Honestly, she’s more entertaining than watching Stan suck at this game.”
Stan ignored them both, his eyes glued to the screen, though you noticed the way his grip on the controller tightened.
You stayed perched in Stan’s lap as he continued to play, his focus unwavering despite your presence. The faint sound of gunfire and Cartman’s incessant yelling filled the room, but your mind was elsewhere. Your fingers moved idly to his hair, combing through the strands and twisting them gently.
Stan’s bleached hair had grown out since you helped him with it, leaving a stark contrast between the blonde and his natural dark roots. You smiled faintly, remembering the day he let you bleach it in his bathroom. He’d been skeptical at first, grumbling about how “Cartman’s gonna call me a wannabe TikTok e-boy.”
But when you revealed the final result, the look of surprise on his face had been worth every moment.
“Holy shit,” he’d muttered, running a hand through the freshly bleached strands.
“See? Told you it’d look good dude,” you’d replied smugly. Then, on impulse, you’d pressed a kiss to his cheek, unable to stop yourself from smiling.
That kiss had been casual, friendly. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
Your fingers stilled in Stan’s hair as the memory brought another one to the surface—the first time you’d kissed him. It was at a party, the two of you leaning against a wall in some corner, slightly buzzed from cheap vodka. Someone had said something stupid, and you’d both dissolved into laughter.
And then, without thinking, you’d leaned in and kissed him.
It hadn’t lasted long—just a brief press of lips, fueled by alcohol and laughter—but it had been enough to make your head spin. Stan hadn’t pulled away. If anything, he’d leaned in slightly, like he’d been waiting for it.
But the moment passed, and neither of you brought it up again.
Kissing Stan had become familiar since then. It was just... something you did. A casual thing. Or at least, that’s what you convinced yourself.
Your gaze shifted to his profile now, the faint concentration lines between his brows as he played. The glow from the screen lit up his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the soft curve of his lips. You couldn’t help but wonder: Did he ever think about those kisses? Did he feel the same pull you did, the strange comfort of it?
The thought made your chest tighten.
Do you like me?
The question lingered in your mind, unspoken and heavy. Stan had always been a constant in your life—steady, dependable, the one who tolerated your bratty tendencies without complaint. But did he like you?
And more importantly... did you like him?
Your fingers resumed their gentle movement in his hair, your heart beating a little faster as you struggled to untangle your thoughts. Kissing Stan didn’t feel like it should mean anything. But lately, you couldn’t stop wondering if it did.
“You okay dude?” Stan’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. He didn’t look at you, his eyes still on the screen, but the concern in his voice was clear.
“Yeah,” you said quickly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just... thinking.”
Stan nodded, his expression unreadable. “You’re quiet.”
You let out a soft laugh, brushing your fingers through his hair one last time before resting your hands on his shoulders. “Guess I’m just tired.”
“Mm-hmm,” Stan muttered, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t press further.
You leaned back slightly, watching him play, the weight of your thoughts settling heavily in your chest.
You shifted slightly in Stan’s lap, your fingers still playing with his hair when your phone buzzed on the bed. The sudden noise made you glance over, and Red’s name lit up the screen.
“Oh, hold on, it’s Red,” you said, slipping off Stan’s lap. He didn’t respond, just kept his eyes glued to the game.
You grabbed your phone, swiping to answer as you perched on the edge of Stan’s desk.
“Hey, Red!” you greeted, your voice instantly bright and flirty.
“About time,” Red said, her tone teasing. “So, are you gonna tell me why you’ve been off the grid? And don’t say it’s because you’re studying babe—I know better.”
You laughed, glancing at Stan out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, you know me. Always finding ways to entertain myself. I’m at Stan’s dorm right now.”
Red let out a dramatic gasp. “Stan? Again? Wow, you two might as well move in together at this point.”
Stan’s fingers faltered briefly on the controller, but he didn’t look away from the screen.
“Right? It’s like we’re married already,” you joked, leaning back and toying with the edge of Stan’s desk.
Red cackled. “God, you two are so weird. What’s he doing? Ignoring you like always?”
“Yup,” you said, your voice dripping with fake indignation. “He’s playing his stupid game. As usual.”
Stan adjusted his headset slightly, the earcups slipping off one ear now. He didn’t say anything, but you could tell he was listening.
“Honestly,” you continued, keeping your tone light, “it’s kind of tragic how bad he is at multitasking. Like, he can only focus on one thing at a time. I bet if I disappeared, he wouldn’t even notice until he lost the match.”
Red let out a snort. “Come on, [Y/N]. Give him some credit. He’s not that bad. And you’re always hanging around him anyway, so clearly he’s doing something right.”
“Eh,” you replied, smirking. “He’s tolerable. Most of the time.” You glanced at Stan again, noting the way his jaw tightened slightly.
“And?” Red prompted. “What about when he’s not tolerable?”
You grinned mischievously, the words spilling out before you could stop yourself. “When he’s not tolerable? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just trade him in for someone better.”
Stan froze. His hands stopped moving, and the room went silent except for the sound of Cartman and Kenny yelling through his headset.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Red asked, her voice curious but amused.
Before you could answer, Stan stood abruptly, pulling off his headset and letting it rest on the chair. He crossed the room in three long strides, his presence making the small dorm feel even smaller.
“Red, I’ll call you back,” you said quickly, hanging up before she could respond.
Stan loomed over you now, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. He reached past you and pressed the power button on his PS5, the room falling into silence as the screen went black.
“What the fuck was that?” he asked, his voice low but tight with frustration.
You blinked up at him, playing innocent even as your heart raced. “What was what?”
“Don’t play dumb, [Y/N],” Stan said, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “That shit you said to Red. What the hell was that about?”
Stan stared down at you, his blue eyes sharp as he waited for an explanation. You leaned back slightly against the desk, tilting your head innocently as you blinked up at him.
“What?” you said, feigning confusion. “I was just talking to Red about how you’re my bestest friend in the whole world.” You clasped your hands together dramatically, flashing him a teasing grin. “She loves hearing about how much I adore you.”
Stan’s jaw clenched, his brows furrowing deeper. “Your ‘bestest friend,’ huh?” he repeated, his tone skeptical, edged with something darker. “Because that’s exactly how it sounded.”
You shrugged, letting out a playful laugh. “I mean, come on, Stan. Red knows you’re my favorite. I was just hyping you up, obviously.”
“Hyping me up?” His voice was low, incredulous. “You told her you’d trade me in for someone better.”
You waved a dismissive hand, still playing up your act. “Oh, that? That was just a joke. You know I didn’t mean it.”
Stan stepped closer, his hands braced on either side of you against the desk. The space between you disappeared, and his intense gaze locked onto yours. “Do you ever think before you open your mouth?” he asked, his voice calm but heavy with tension. “Or do you just say shit for the fun of it?”
The teasing grin faltered on your lips for a split second before you forced it back into place. “Relax, Marsh,” you said lightly, though your pulse quickened under the weight of his stare. “You’re taking this way too seriously.”
Stan’s head tilted slightly, his jaw tightening as he studied you. “Am I?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less commanding. “Because it’s starting to feel like you’re trying to get a rise out of me.”
Your heart skipped a beat, but you refused to let it show. “Me?” you said with mock innocence, batting your lashes. “Why would I ever do that?”
Stan didn’t answer right away. His eyes flickered down to your lips briefly before meeting your gaze again, the tension between you crackling like static electricity. His presence was overwhelming, and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close he was, how his body practically boxed you in against the desk.
“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered finally, his voice low and rough.
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. For once, the teasing remark you had ready in your head didn’t make it past your lips. The intensity in Stan’s eyes held you in place, your heart pounding in your chest as the air between you grew heavier.
The silence stretched between you, heavy and unrelenting, as you blinked up at Stan, trying to piece together what exactly had him so worked up. Sure, you’d teased him plenty of times before—this wasn’t new—but something about tonight was different. He wasn’t just annoyed; he was genuinely mad, and it caught you off guard.
“Stan,” you said, your voice softer now, though still carrying that teasing edge. “Why are you so mad? We’re friends. We do this all the time!”
Stan’s brows knit together, his jaw tightening as he took a slow breath. “Friends,” he repeated, his voice low and almost to himself, like he was testing how the word felt on his tongue. He leaned back slightly, straightening up, but his hands stayed braced on the desk, keeping you effectively trapped. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?” you asked, tilting your head in genuine confusion. “We joke around like this all the time. Why is it such a big deal tonight?”
Stan’s blue eyes flicked over your face, searching for something, but whatever he was looking for, he didn’t seem to find it. He let out a frustrated exhale, running a hand through his bleached hair, his fingers catching in the grown-out roots. “Jesus Christ, [Y/N],” he muttered, his voice tight. “You can’t just—”
He stopped himself, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he visibly struggled to keep his cool. For a moment, he looked like he was going to let it go, like he was going to step back and walk away from whatever was eating at him. But then his gaze snapped back to yours, and you saw the flicker of something raw and unresolved in his eyes.
“You don’t even realize what you do to me,” he said finally, his voice quiet but heavy, each word carefully measured.
Your breath hitched, the weight of his words hitting you like a freight train. “What I do to you?” you echoed, your brows furrowing as you tried to process what he was saying. “Stan, I—”
“You don’t get to act like this doesn’t mean something,” he interrupted, his tone sharper now, though his voice never rose above a low murmur. “You don’t get to sit in my lap, kiss me whenever you feel like it, say the shit you just said to Red, and then turn around and call me your ‘bestest friend.’” He spat the last words with a bitterness that made your chest tighten.
“I thought we were just... I mean, that’s just how we are,” you stammered, the confusion in your voice genuine. “We always mess around like that. It’s not—”
“It’s not just messing around for me,” he cut in, his voice breaking slightly at the end. He took a step closer, closing the gap between you again, his hands moving to grip the edge of the desk on either side of you. “I don’t think you even understand what the fuck you’re doing to me, [Y/N]. How you make me feel.”
Your heart was racing now, the weight of his words sinking in but not fully connecting in your mind. “Stan,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to make you feel—”
“You make me feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind,” he said, his voice strained, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach twist. “You waltz in here, act like you own the place, and... fuck. You make me feel so much, and then you just brush it off like it’s nothing. Like it’s some fucking game.”
Your lips parted, but no words came. You’d never seen Stan like this—so raw, so vulnerable—and it left you reeling. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain that you hadn’t meant to hurt him, that you hadn’t even realized you were doing it.
“I... I didn’t know,” you whispered finally, your voice barely audible.
Stan’s eyes were sharp and unwavering, his frustration palpable as he leaned closer, boxing you in against the desk. “You didn’t know?” he echoed, his voice low and edged with disbelief. “Really? So, what about all those times you kiss me out of nowhere? Like at that party last month, when you were drunk and decided to make me your personal fucking experiment.”
Your heart raced, and your lips parted to defend yourself, but he didn’t give you a chance. He pressed on, his tone growing sharper. “Or what about when you sat in my lap at Kenny’s place during movie night and kept playing with my hair? You acted like it was nothing, like it didn’t mean a damn thing, even though everyone was staring.”
“It’s just how I am,” you said defensively, your voice trembling as you tried to process the weight of his words. “You know that! I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just... it’s just fun.”
“Fun?” he repeated, his jaw tightening as he let out a bitter laugh. “Dude, do you even hear yourself? You sit here, playing with me like I’m some toy, and you call it fun? Like it doesn’t fuck me up every single time you do it?”
“I didn’t realize—” you began, but he cut you off again, stepping closer until his face was inches from yours.
“Of course you didn’t,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “Because you don’t think. You don’t stop for one goddamn second to think about how the shit you do might affect me.”
The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. The air between you was heavy, charged with a tension you couldn’t name, and for the first time, you didn’t know how to talk your way out of it.
Stan’s gaze softened just slightly, though the frustration in his eyes didn’t fade. “You can’t keep doing this, [Y/N],” he said quietly, his voice raw. “You can’t keep acting like this is nothing, like I’m nothing.”
Your chest tightened, and you felt your breath hitch as the gravity of his words sank in. “Stan,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “I didn’t know you felt this way. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He stared at you for a long moment, his blue eyes searching yours for something—an answer, an apology, a sign that you understood. But all he found was confusion and guilt, and it made his shoulders tense even more.
“I don’t think you even know what you want,” he said finally, his voice softer now but laced with frustration. “And maybe that’s the problem.”
The silence was suffocating, your chest tight with a mix of emotions you didn’t fully understand. Stan’s words hung heavy in the air, but something about them—something about the way he said you didn’t know what you wanted—set you off.
Your brows furrowed, and you straightened up, leaning closer to him, your voice sharp as you snapped, “Excuse me? You think you know me so well, Stan? That I don’t know what I want? Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t have a clue.”
Stan’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he stared at you. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked, his tone low and simmering with barely restrained anger.
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at him. “It means you don’t get to stand there and act like you’ve got it all figured out while calling me out for being confused. Maybe you’re just pissed because you’re too scared to deal with your own feelings.”
Stan’s lips pressed into a thin line, his blue eyes darkening as he took a step closer to you. The tension between you crackled like a live wire, and for a moment, you thought he was going to say something. Instead, he closed the distance in a single, deliberate motion, his hand gripping your wrist as he pulled you toward him.
“Stan—” you started, but the words were cut off as his other hand cupped the back of your head, dragging you into a searing kiss.
It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was fierce, overwhelming, and commanding, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that left you breathless. Your body instinctively leaned into him, your hands clutching at his shirt as the world seemed to tilt on its axis. His grip on you was firm, grounding, and you could feel the frustration and need pouring out of him in every movement.
Your heart raced, your head spinning as you pulled away from him. “Stan—”
“Stop,” Stan interrupted, his tone sharp as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward the bed. “You don’t get to play dumb about this. Not anymore.”
Your back hit the mattress before you could say a word, his body towering over you as he leaned down, his bracelets clinking faintly with the movement. His bleached hair fell into his eyes, messy and slightly damp with sweat, and his tan skin glowed in the low light of the room. His hands framed your face, steady but firm, his thumbs brushing over your warm cheeks as his intense gaze locked onto yours.
“You’ve been screwing with my head for months,” he started, his voice low but taut with emotion. “Kissing me like it’s no big deal, running your hands all over me, batting your damn eyelashes like... like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.” His jaw clenched, and he shook his head slightly, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.
Your breath hitched, your lips parting to speak, but Stan didn’t give you the chance. “Don’t even try to tell me it’s ‘just you being you,’” he pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t get it, do you? How much you get to me.”
His lips crashed into yours, silencing whatever excuse or explanation was forming in your head. The kiss was heated, desperate, and when he pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his face inches from yours. A string of saliva broke between you as he spoke, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “You make me feel insane, [Y/N]. Like I don’t know which way is up.”
Your eyes widened as he cupped your cheek more firmly, his thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth. His brow furrowed, and his voice softened, tinged with an almost hesitant vulnerability. “Have you even thought about it? What it’s like to be me? To deal with this—deal with you?”
You opened your mouth, unsure of what to say, but Stan wasn’t finished. He shook his head, running a hand through his messy bleached hair and laughing humorlessly. “You’re so fucking clueless. You act like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t matter. But it does. It matters to me.”
His words hit you hard, a swirl of emotions rising in your chest—guilt, confusion, and something deeper that you hadn’t yet put a name to. “Stan...” you started, your voice trembling, but he cut you off again, his hand moving to gently grip your jaw, keeping your attention fixed on him.
“You make me feel so good sometimes,” he admitted, his voice raw and quieter now, almost like it was a confession. “Like... like nothing else in the world matters. But then you turn around, and it’s like you’re trying to drive me insane.”
Your chest tightened as you stared up at him, your breath catching in your throat. The intensity of his words, the sheer weight of his emotions—it was overwhelming. But there was no mistaking the honesty in his gaze, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.
He sighed, his frustration ebbing slightly, replaced with something softer. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said, shaking his head again, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “You don’t even realize what you do to me.”
“I...” You trailed off, your voice barely a whisper, the words you wanted to say slipping through your grasp. You didn’t know how to explain what you felt—didn’t even know if you understood it yourself.
Stan gave a soft, almost exasperated laugh, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “Of course you don’t,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of fondness and frustration. “You never do.”
He leaned in, his forehead brushing against yours as his breathing steadied, his hand still cradling your cheek. “But you’re gonna figure it out, [Y/N]. You’re gonna figure it out real soon.”
Before you could respond, Stan leaned in again, his lips pressing against yours with a raw urgency that caught you off guard. His hand on your cheek softened, but his other arm wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you flush against him as if he couldn’t stand even an inch of distance. His bracelets clinked softly with the movement, grounding the moment in the quiet tension of the room.
His lips moved with an intensity that made your head spin, and he groaned low against your mouth, the sound sending heat coursing through you. But as his hand slid lower, you broke the kiss, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips. Stan’s brows furrowed instantly, frustration flashing in his blue eyes as you sat back, a little too smug for his liking.
“What now?” he asked, his voice sharp but low, like he was already bracing himself for whatever nonsense you were about to pull.
You tilted your head, your fingers playing idly with the hem of his t-shirt. “Wow, Stan,” you started, your tone saccharine and laced with mockery. “I didn’t know you were so desperate. Did I mess up your game that badly?”
His jaw ticked, the muscle flexing as he let out a short, humorless laugh. “Shut up,” he muttered, shaking his head. His hands rested on his hips for a moment, his bracelets sliding down his forearms, before he leaned in, his expression darkening.
“No, seriously,” you continued, undeterred, your teasing grin widening. “Do I need to apologize to Cartman and Kenny? Tell them their carry bailed ‘cause you couldn���t handle a little distraction?”
Stan’s patience snapped. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, and before you could react, he yanked it over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. The motion left you momentarily stunned, blinking up at him as he loomed over you.
“Stan!” you gasped, more surprised than offended. “What the hell—”
“You wanted my attention?” he cut you off, his voice low, the edge in it sending a jolt through you. “Well, you’ve got it. So go ahead. Say whatever smart-ass thing you were about to.”
Your heart raced as his hands returned to your waist, his grip firm but not rough, pulling you closer. His expression was unreadable, a mix of annoyance, desire, and something deeper that made your stomach twist. The way his messy bleached hair framed his face, the soft flush on his tan skin, and the glint of his bracelets as he adjusted his grip—everything about him right now was so painfully, undeniably Stan, and it made your head spin.
You tried to think of something witty, something sharp, but the intensity in his gaze stole the words from your mouth. Sensing your hesitation, Stan let out a soft, dark chuckle, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
As if to emphasize his point, his hands slid up your sides, his touch firm but deliberate as his fingers grazed over the lace of your bra. His lips dipped to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that left you shivering. When his teeth scraped lightly against your pulse point, you let out a soft moan, your nails digging into his arms.
“You think you’re so funny,” he muttered against your skin, his tone carrying just a hint of exasperation. “Always running that mouth, always pushing me. But when it comes down to it...”
Before you could respond, he pinched lightly at your side, just enough to make you gasp. The sound seemed to satisfy him, and his lips curved into a grin as he kissed his way down your neck. “You never know when to quit, do you?” he added, his voice softer now, almost like he was teasing himself more than you.
“I—” You tried to speak, but your voice faltered as his lips found the edge of your bra, his breath warm against your skin. His hands slid lower, gripping your hips as he pressed you back into the mattress, the weight of him anchoring you in place.
“You’re always so damn smug,” he continued, his tone quiet but sharp. His hand moved to cup your cheek again, tilting your head slightly so his lips hovered just over yours. “But you don’t have a clue what you’re doing, do you?”
Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your heart racing from the heat in his words and the way his touch seemed to set your skin alight. “Stan...” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling.
“Shh,” he interrupted, brushing his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. “I don’t want to hear it. You’ve said enough.” His smirk softened slightly, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something vulnerable in his expression. “Now it’s my turn.”
Stan pulled his hand away from your mouth, his fingers brushing the strap of your bra as he met your gaze. His expression was sharp, almost unreadable, but there was something deliberate in the way his hand slid to your shoulder, gently pushing the strap down. He moved with an almost casual precision, like he wasn’t just savoring the moment but making damn sure you knew he was in control.
His lips found your neck again, his kisses slow and deliberate as the other strap slid down your arm. You shivered, the cool air against your skin making you hyperaware of every single touch, every bit of pressure from his hands. When his fingers reached the clasp of your bra, he hesitated just long enough to send your heart racing.
“You’re so quiet all of a sudden,” he muttered near your ear, his voice low and full of teasing disbelief. “What happened to all the shit you were saying earlier?”
Your cheeks burned, and before you could retort, he unhooked the clasp with an ease that made your breath hitch. He let the lace fall away like it was nothing, his hands immediately cupping your chest. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, his touch surprisingly tender for a moment—until he gave a sharp, calculated pinch that made you gasp.
“Yeah,” he said, his lips twitching into a smirk as he watched your back arch instinctively. “That’s what I thought.”
His grip stayed firm, his thumbs teasing the sensitive peaks of your chest as his lips trailed along your jaw, hot and deliberate. “All that attitude,” he murmured, the words spilling against your skin. “And now? Not a damn word.”
The heat in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips when he pinched again, rolling your skin between his fingers with just enough pressure to have you squirming under him.
He chuckled at your reaction, the sound low and rough as his lips made their way down to your collarbone. “Does this feel good?” he asked, the mock sweetness in his tone making your stomach twist in the best way.
You tried to form words, but all you managed was a breathy moan. His smirk deepened, his blue eyes flashing with a mix of satisfaction and that familiar intensity that made your chest tighten. 
His hands started to move, one sliding down your side with an almost lazy kind of purpose. His fingers brushed over your waist before dipping under the waistband of your panties. He paused there, just teasing the fabric, the rough pads of his fingers grazing your skin.
“Look at you,” he said, his lips curling into a faint smirk as his thumb toyed with the hemline. “All that confidence, all that fire—and now you’re just laying here, waiting for me to decide what happens next.”
Your breath hitched as his fingers dipped lower, brushing close enough to make your thighs tense. “Stan,” you whispered, your voice shaky, “please...”
His laugh was soft but laced with a kind of smug triumph that made your cheeks flush. “That’s better,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower as he let his fingers skim just a little closer to where you needed him. “See? You don’t always have to run your mouth.”
Your body arched toward him instinctively, the anticipation driving you mad, but his movements stayed deliberate, controlled. “Maybe you’re finally figuring out how this works,” he continued, his tone equal parts teasing and sharp. “Or maybe you’re just that desperate.”
Stan’s fingers hooked under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down with an almost lazy slowness. The fabric slid down your thighs, the cool air biting against your heated skin as he tossed them aside without a second thought. His movements were deliberate, but there was nothing showy about it—he just knew exactly what he was doing.
He shifted back, the bed creaking slightly as he knelt on the floor in front of you. The sight made your stomach flip—a mix of nervousness and something much hotter. Propped up on your elbows, you stared down at him, your breath catching as the full picture came into view.
His messy bleached hair framed his face, dark roots peeking through like a signature Stan move—half careless, half effort. His lips, swollen and pink from earlier, twitched faintly into a smirk that was both boyish and entirely too knowing. His band t-shirt clung to his chest, the faded logo stretching every time he breathed, and his gray sweatpants hung just low enough to show a hint of the waistband of his boxers. The bracelets circling his wrists—random, colorful, maybe from some flea market—clinked lightly as he moved, his hands sliding up your thighs.
Stan leaned in, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your inner thigh. The warm graze of his breath against you sent a shiver up your spine, and you couldn’t stop the way your hips shifted forward, searching for more contact.
“Seriously?” you teased breathlessly, your voice cracking slightly but still laced with a hint of defiance. “You’re really gonna drag this out?”
His hands froze for a moment, his gaze snapping up to meet yours. His blue eyes burned, sharp with amusement, but there was a glint of something darker too—something that made your stomach twist. A slow, almost smug grin spread across his face.
“Still talking, huh?” he drawled, his voice low, edged with dry humor. “Bold of you, considering where you are right now.”
Before you could even think of a comeback, his fingers caught the lace of your panties and yanked them to the side with deliberate force. The motion left you exposed, and the cool air against your heated skin made you gasp.
Stan leaned in closer, his breath warm as it ghosted over your most sensitive spot. His gaze locked onto yours, and his smirk widened slightly, like he knew exactly how wrecked you were about to be.
“Guess I’ll have to shut you up,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. Then his mouth was on you.
The sensation sent a jolt of white-hot pleasure straight through you, your head tipping back against the bed as you let out a broken cry. His tongue moved slowly at first, tracing over you with an infuriating precision that made you squirm beneath him.
But when you tried to shift your hips, his hands clamped down on your thighs, holding you firmly in place.
“Don’t,” he said against your skin, his voice muffled but firm, sending vibrations through you. “You’re staying right where I want you.”
You whimpered, your nails digging into the sheets as his tongue worked you over. The wet heat of his mouth was relentless, alternating between gentle flicks and firm, lingering strokes that left you trembling. When he slid a finger inside you, slow and deliberate, your hips jerked against his hold despite yourself.
“Stan—fuck,” you gasped, your voice breaking as your chest heaved.
He chuckled softly, his fingers curling inside you in a way that made your head spin. “That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice filled with quiet confidence. “Not so mouthy now, huh?”
The mix of his teasing tone and his rough hands left you breathless, every nerve in your body alight. Just as the pleasure started to build, his thumb brushed over your clit, adding pressure in a way that had your thighs trembling.
You moaned loudly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the sensation became overwhelming. And then his other hand moved sharply, pinching you directly on your clit.
“Shit—Stan!” you cried, your voice high and breaking as your body jerked from the sudden mix of pleasure and pain.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at you with that same infuriating smirk, his lips glistening, his blue eyes lit with mischief. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone mocking but light, as though this was all a joke to him. “You’ve got all the energy to sass me, but now you’re falling apart? That’s cute.”
His fingers stayed inside you, his movements unrelenting as he dragged you closer to the edge with maddening precision. Your hands fisted the sheets, your body arching toward him despite the overwhelming sensations.
“Stan, please—” you whimpered, your voice trembling as tears pooled in your eyes.
“‘Please,’” he mimicked softly, his voice laced with sarcasm. “That’s new.” His teeth grazed your thigh in a brief nip, and you let out another sharp cry.
Stan’s bracelets clinked faintly as his grip on you tightened, his hands firm against your skin as he kept you pinned exactly where he wanted. The sight of him—his messy bleached hair, his sharp jawline, his flushed face—burned itself into your memory, a perfect mix of control and smug satisfaction.
“Don’t stop,” you managed to choke out, the words barely audible between gasps.
“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice dipping into something darker, his lips brushing against the inside of your thigh. “I’m not stopping until I’ve got exactly what I want.”
Your breath hitched, and you couldn’t even think of a response. His mouth returned to you, his tongue and fingers working in perfect tandem as he pushed you higher and higher. The lingering sting of his pinch only heightened the sensations coursing through your body, leaving you a trembling mess.
Stan's tongue worked you with an intensity that left you breathless, each flick and swirl sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. When he added another finger, sliding it in with the same slow, deliberate motion as before, the stretch left you gasping.
"Stan—ah—I’m so close," you managed to whimper, your voice trembling as tears began to pool at the corners of your eyes. Your chest heaved, your body trembling as you clutched the sheets beneath you.
You sniffled, overwhelmed by the sensations, your head tipping back as your thighs quivered against his grip. "I’m—oh, God—Stan, I’m gonna come," you cried out, your voice cracking with desperation.
Stan’s mouth continued, his tongue teasing you with relentless precision while his fingers curled inside you, pushing you closer to the edge. You felt the pressure building, your entire body tensing as the release hovered just within reach.
And then he stopped.
Stan’s lips hovered over your inner thigh for a moment, his breath warm against your skin, before he pulled back entirely. His fingers left you aching and empty, and the absence was immediate and devastating. Your thighs trembled as you shifted, trying to seek out the friction you desperately needed, but Stan’s hands stopped you with a firm, grounding grip.
“Not yet,” he said, his voice low and steady, with a soft edge of finality that left no room for argument.
Your eyes widened, tears slipping freely now, as you whimpered, “Stan, please… I can’t—”
“You can,” he interrupted calmly, leaning back and sitting on his heels as he looked at you with a mix of frustration and quiet amusement. “You’ll survive. Trust me.”
Your chest heaved as you stared at him, every nerve in your body screaming for relief, but Stan only sighed softly, shaking his head. His messy, bleached hair fell into his eyes again, and he shoved it back carelessly before gripping the hem of his t-shirt.
Before you could say anything else, he tugged the shirt over his head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. The motion revealed the toned lines of his chest and the faint tan that trailed down to the waistband of his sweatpants. His silver chain glinted against his skin, catching the dim light, and you couldn’t help but stare.
Stan raised an eyebrow, catching your gaze as he rested his forearms on his knees, casual but commanding. “You’re staring,” he said softly, his lips curving into a faint smirk.
Your throat felt dry as you tried to find your voice, but all that escaped was a soft whimper. Your hands clenched into the sheets beneath you, and the heat pooling in your stomach twisted painfully as you realized he had no intention of letting you off the hook.
“You’ll live,” Stan muttered again, his tone quiet but deliberate as he stood, giving you one last glance before turning toward his dresser. The lack of attention left you buzzing with frustration and need, but he didn’t seem to care—he was in complete control, and you were left to grapple with the fact that he intended to keep it that way.
Stan walked to his dresser with a lazy confidence, the kind that only made the heat pooling in your stomach worse. More of the hemline of his boxers showed now, and the muscles in his back shifted subtly as he grabbed his phone from the edge of the dresser. He scrolled aimlessly, his bracelets jangling faintly with each movement.
You stared, your breaths shallow, thighs pressing together in a futile attempt to calm the ache he’d left behind. He wasn’t even looking at you, completely unfazed, like he hadn’t just wrecked you moments ago. It made your chest twist—part frustration, part something you didn’t want to name.
“Stan,” you croaked, your voice cracking slightly, and he didn’t even flinch.
He scrolled for another beat, finally glancing over his shoulder at you, one eyebrow arching lazily. “What?” His tone was flat, indifferent, like you’d just interrupted him during an uneventful Tuesday.
Your lips parted, but nothing came out. You hated how small his lack of reaction made you feel, like the electric tension between you was entirely one-sided.
“I…” you started, but your gaze flicked down to his chest, to the light tan that lingered across his skin and the faint ridge of muscle beneath it. You swallowed hard, trying to piece together your thoughts, but the sight of him standing there— messy-haired, and so effortlessly unaffected—was enough to scramble everything in your head.
Stan sighed like you were being difficult and turned back to his dresser. His hand rifled through the top drawer, and when he pulled back, the foil wrapper of a condom glinted under the soft light.
Your stomach dropped, your body buzzing as he set the condom casually on the dresser, next to his phone. He leaned one arm against the edge, crossing his other hand over his chest, bracelets sliding slightly down his forearm as he glanced back at you.
“You gonna say something, or just keep staring like that?” he said finally, his lips quirking into a faint, cocky smirk.
Your cheeks burned, and you squirmed against the sheets, the ache between your legs sharpening as he stood there, fully in control. “I wasn’t staring,” you mumbled, barely convincing even yourself.
“Right,” Stan said, dragging the word out as he looked back at his phone, tapping the screen lazily. “Sure seemed like it from here.”
The way he brushed you off, so casual and maddening, made the knot in your chest tighten. Your eyes darted to the condom on the dresser, and the implications made your head spin. “Why’d you—” You stopped yourself, biting your lip as frustration prickled at the back of your neck.
“Why’d I what?” Stan drawled, not even bothering to look up this time.
“Y-you…” you faltered again, unsure if it was the tension in your chest or the growing need burning through your veins that had you so tongue-tied.
Stan finally turned, leaning fully against the dresser now, his arms crossed as he looked at you with a mix of amusement and exasperation. His bleached hair was a mess, dark roots peeking through as a few strands fell into his eyes. He shoved them back with one hand, his bracelets clinking faintly before crossing his arms again.
“You’ve been running your mouth all night,” he said, tilting his head slightly as he looked you over. “Now you’ve got nothing to say? Figures.”
You squirmed under his gaze, the heat in your cheeks spreading as you gripped the sheets tightly beneath you.
His smirk deepened, sharp and knowing. “C’mon, [Y/N], spit it out,” he said, his voice low and edged with sarcasm. “You’re looking at me like I’ve got all the answers.”
Your chest tightened, every nerve in your body buzzing as your lips parted again, but the words refused to form. The weight of his gaze, the way his tone was almost mocking but not cruel—it all left you reeling.
“I don’t know,” you whispered finally, the admission feeling heavier than it should.
Stan’s expression softened, just slightly, but his smirk didn’t fade. “Yeah, I got that much,” he said, his voice quieter now but still cutting. His sharp blue eyes lingered on you for a moment, reading you like an open book.
You swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in your chest again as the knot of frustration and need twisted tighter. You glanced at the condom on the dresser again, and your voice broke as you murmured, “Why’d you grab that?”
Stan raised an eyebrow, his smirk shifting into something closer to amusement. “Why do you think?” he said plainly, like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.
Your stomach flipped, and you bit your lip hard enough to sting as your gaze dropped to your hands clenched in the sheets. The teasing tilt in his tone, the sheer audacity of his calmness, made your head spin.
He pushed off the dresser and crossed the room in a few slow, deliberate steps, stopping just short of the bed. His sharp gaze bore into you as he leaned down slightly, his bracelets sliding further down his arms.
“Say what you want, [Y/N],” he said softly, the teasing edge in his voice tempered by something quieter, something steadier. “Or don’t. Either way…” His eyes flicked to the condom, then back to you. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I-...” you trailed off, your breath catching as you forced yourself to look at him. And in that moment, it hit you all at once, sharp and undeniable.
You liked him.
Not just liked him—you wanted him, craved him in a way that made your heart race and your stomach twist. It hit you all at once: the teasing, the flirting, the way you got jealous over nothing—it wasn’t friendly banter. It was so much more.
Stan leaned against the dresser, his bracelets jingling faintly as he shifted his weight. The condom in his hand hung lazily between two fingers, and his blue eyes locked onto yours with that sharp, assessing look he always gave when he was trying to figure you out. “You… what?” he asked, the slightest tilt of his head adding to the edge in his voice.
Your chest tightened, the words bubbling to the surface before you could stop them. “I want you to come back to the bed.”
Stan’s brows lifted, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He swung the condom lightly, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl. “Oh, yeah? And what exactly do you want if I do?”
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as heat crept up your neck. “I want to kiss you,” you admitted, your voice trembling but firm. “I need to.”
The smirk on Stan’s face faltered, replaced by something softer, more serious. He straightened slightly, the humor in his eyes fading as he stepped closer, the condom now forgotten at his side. “You need to kiss me,” he repeated, his tone lower, testing.
“Yes,” you said, barely above a whisper.
Stan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, his lips quirking as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He placed the condom on the bedside table and leaned down, his hands bracing on either side of you. His lips brushed yours, a soft, fleeting touch that left you breathless.
“You could’ve just said so earlier,” he muttered, and then his mouth pressed firmly against yours, stealing whatever response you might’ve had.
The kiss was different—no teasing smirks or playful jabs, just raw, unfiltered emotion. His hands cupped your face, tilting it slightly to deepen the kiss as his body pressed closer. You melted into him, your hands instinctively clutching at his bare shoulders as the heat between you grew.
Stan pulled back, his lips lingering just a breath away from yours, and his eyes searched yours like he was trying to piece together something important. “Do you even get what you’re doing to me?” he asked, his voice low and rough around the edges.
Your breath hitched, and you blinked up at him, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “I wasn’t sure what I felt,” you said softly, the words stumbling out. “But I know now. I—I want this. I want you.”
Stan’s gaze flickered, something vulnerable slipping through his usual guarded expression. His jaw worked for a moment, like he was chewing over your words, and then he let out a quiet breath, his hand sliding to cradle your face. “No more of this back-and-forth shit,” he said, his voice firmer now. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it for real. None of your games. No bullshit.”
“No games,” you echoed, your voice trembling but certain.
His lips curved into a small, lopsided smile, his thumb brushing against your jaw. “Good,” he said, his tone soft but resolute. His other hand settled on your waist, grounding you as he leaned in again, his forehead lightly bumping against yours. “Because I don’t think I can deal with you driving me up the wall anymore without this.”
Stan scooted back slightly, hooking his thumbs casually into the waistband of his sweatpants. His blue eyes stayed locked on yours, that familiar mix of irritation and amusement flickering in his gaze as he tugged them down just enough to reveal snug black boxer briefs. The way they hugged his frame left little to the imagination, and your eyes instinctively dropped, wide and unblinking.
“Wow,” you said quickly, your cheeks heating up as you scrambled to deflect. “Really going for the bold look tonight, huh? What’s the occasion?”
Stan raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a dry smirk. “Bold words coming from someone who keeps getting caught staring,” he shot back. His hands dropped to his hips, his stance casual, but the sharpness in his voice made your stomach flip.
“I wasn’t staring,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest in a weak attempt to look unbothered.
His laugh was short and incredulous, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah, sure. Totally convincing.” He shoved his sweatpants down the rest of the way with an almost careless motion, stepping out of them as they pooled at his feet. Now just in his boxer briefs, he took a slow step forward, looming over you with that same unimpressed look that made you squirm.
“You’ve got a smart mouth,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “Always running it, even when you’re caught red-handed.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could get a single word out, he was climbing onto the bed. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart effortlessly, the weight of his body leaving you pinned beneath him. The shift in dynamic was immediate, leaving you breathless as his blue eyes bore into yours, sharp and unrelenting.
“You think you’re funny?” he continued, his voice low and cutting, each word sinking into the tension between you. His thumbs brushed dangerously close to your panties, the teasing touch sending a jolt through your already-overheated body. “Making little comments like that when you’re already soaked? What exactly are you trying to pull here?”
“I wasn’t—” you started defensively, but your words faltered when his fingers trailed up, pressing against the damp fabric of your panties with maddening precision.
“Wasn’t what?” he pressed, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. His voice dipped lower, taking on a mocking edge that sent shivers down your spine. “Wasn’t wet? Wasn’t about to beg me? Careful, [Y/N]. You keep lying to my face, and I might just leave you like this all night.”
Your breath hitched, and you instinctively shifted your hips, trying to get more of his touch. But his grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you firmly in place. He pulled back just enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his smirk sharp and unforgiving.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his tone soft but cutting. “That’s what I thought.”
He pushed himself back onto his heels, dragging his boxers down in one smooth motion. When he stood again, his cock stood hard and flushed, and the sight made your breath catch in your throat. Without thinking, your hand reached out to touch him, but he caught your wrist before you could get close.
“Seriously?” he said, his voice carrying that familiar edge of sarcasm that was so uniquely Stan. He shook his head, letting out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “You’ve been running your mouth all night, and now you think you get to do whatever you want? Cute.”
His free hand came up to grip your cheek, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to make your lips part slightly. “Look at me,” he said, his blue eyes locking onto yours. His tone was steady, but there was a flicker of frustration behind it, a heat that had your stomach twisting. “You’ve been pushing me all night, and now you’re just gonna sit there and wait until I’m good and ready. Got it?”
Before you could respond, he reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the condom, his movements deliberate. The soft crinkle of the wrapper made your thighs clench instinctively, but he caught the motion immediately, his eyes flicking down and then back up to yours with a faint smirk.
“You talk a big game,” he said, rolling the condom on with an unhurried precision that made your pulse race. “Guess we’ll see if you can actually handle it.”
He leaned back over you, his hands sliding deliberately up your sides before settling on your hips, his grip strong and grounding. His gaze stayed fixed on yours, his expression calm but charged with something unmistakably hungry.
“I—”
Stan cut you off, his hand pressing firmly but not harshly on the back of your head, guiding you down toward the mattress. “Don’t,” he muttered, his voice low and edged with exasperation. The motion wasn’t rough, but it carried no room for argument. He wasn’t playing around anymore.
You turned your head slightly, trying to catch his eye, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as your manicured nails reached for his arm. “Stan,” you whined softly, dragging out his name in that teasing tone you knew got under his skin.
Instead of rising to your bait, he let out a short, dry laugh, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were still at it. “You don’t know when to stop, do you?” he said, his voice carrying that familiar sarcastic bite. Without waiting for a response, his hands gripped your hips, shifting you until your head was down against the bed and your ass was up, fully exposed. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as if he wanted to draw out every second of the tension until it was unbearable.
Stan’s fingers skimmed lightly over your back, trailing down to the curve of your hips. His touch lingered, warm and steady, before his grip tightened enough to ground you. He leaned in just enough for his voice to reach your ears, low and steady, the faintest edge of a smirk in his tone.
“Look at you now,” he said, his words cutting through the thick air between you. “All that talk, and suddenly you don’t have much to say.”
His hands stayed firm on your hips as he lined himself up with you. The weight of his cock against your entrance made your breath hitch, and before you could brace yourself, he pushed forward in one smooth, deliberate motion. The stretch burned, sharp and overwhelming, and your gasp turned into a broken cry as he seated himself fully, leaving no space between you.
Stan didn’t move right away. He stayed buried inside, letting you feel every inch of him as his hands kept you still. The weight of his body, the heat of his skin, the way he held you—it was all-consuming. Tears pricked at your eyes from the sheer intensity of it.
“You’re awful quiet,” he muttered after a moment, his voice low and thick, almost casual. “What happened to all that attitude, huh? Thought you had something smart to say.”
A choked whimper escaped you, and you turned your head slightly, trying to meet his gaze through your tear-blurred vision. Stan’s face was flushed, his messy bleached hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you with a mix of irritation and smug satisfaction. That familiar smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, sharp and knowing, as if he could see right through you.
When you tried to shift your hips, seeking even the smallest bit of relief, his hands clamped down harder, holding you in place. “Uh-uh,” he said, his voice cutting through your quiet protests. “You don’t get to squirm your way out of this. You wanted me back here so bad, right? So take it.”
Your breath hitched again as you buried your face in the mattress, your muffled cries betraying how much you were feeling. “S-Stan…” you hiccupped, your voice trembling, barely able to form his name.
He leaned over you, his chest brushing against your back, his lips close to your ear. “Oh, now you’re playing the soft card?” he murmured, his tone dripping with mock pity. “Too late for that, sweetheart. You’ve been running your mouth all night, and now you’re gonna deal with what you started.”
As if to punctuate his words, he pulled back slightly and then thrust forward again, slow but deep, the motion stealing the air from your lungs. He didn’t let up, finding a deliberate rhythm that left you clawing at the sheets beneath you, every thrust making your body tremble.
“You know,” he said, his voice almost conversational despite the roughness of his movements, “you’re always so damn sure of yourself. Always pushing, always testing me.” He paused, his hips snapping forward harder, making you cry out. “But now? Now you’re not so cocky, are you?”
Tears slipped freely down your cheeks as you tried to keep up, your mind spinning from the overwhelming mix of sensations. When you tried to speak, to form even the smallest response, the words dissolved into broken moans, leaving you completely at his mercy.
Stan noticed, of course. He always noticed. “Aw, what’s wrong?” he teased, his voice softer now, but still carrying that playful edge. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, his lips warm and teasing against your skin. “Too much for you already?”
You managed a shaky nod, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as your body trembled beneath him. His laugh was soft, almost cruel, as he trailed another kiss along your jawline. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low but filled with satisfaction. “Maybe now you’ll think twice before trying to mess with me.”
Despite the tears pooling in your eyes, your body betrayed you, rolling your hips back into him as best you could, chasing the pressure and the sensation. Stan let out a quiet groan at your reaction, his hands gripping your waist tighter.
“See?” he said, his tone shifting to something gentler but still laced with control. “You can be good when you really try.”
Stan’s movements faltered slightly, his hands gripping your hips as he took in the way your body responded to him. His lips quirked into a soft smirk, but his blue eyes betrayed something deeper—intensity mixed with that familiar, slightly sarcastic glint that was so him.
“Damn,” he muttered, his voice low and husky. “You’re really losing it, aren’t you?”
You whimpered in response, unable to form words, your head pressed into the mattress. Stan leaned forward, his breath warm against your shoulder, and chuckled softly. It wasn’t mean—it was teasing, familiar, the same way he always had been, but now it carried the weight of everything happening between you.
“That good, huh?” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to make your breath hitch. “All this, just from me?”
Your body clenched around him at his words, and his sharp intake of breath was proof he noticed. He paused, his hips pressed flush against you as his hand trailed up your back, coaxing a soft arch from your spine.
“Okay, okay,” he teased, his tone shifting, dripping with playful sarcasm now. “You don’t have to answer. You’re kind of... busy.” He punctuated his statement with a slow roll of his hips, drawing a gasp from your lips.
Stan groaned quietly, his head dipping closer to your ear. “Jesus, you’re soaking me,” he said, his voice breaking slightly at the edges. “I didn’t think you could get any better, but here we are.”
His praise made your chest tighten, heat flooding through you as your mind spun. He caught the way your moans grew louder, how your body tensed with every soft word that slipped from his lips.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice dripping with curiosity, with that cocky-but-genuine air only Stan could pull off. “You like when I tell you how good you are?”
Your response was a broken whimper, your nails clawing at the sheets as you tried to ground yourself. Stan’s laughter was soft, almost affectionate, as his fingers trailed down your side, his other hand gripping your hip tightly to keep his rhythm steady.
“Yeah,” he said softly, his voice dropping. “Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you? You’re fucking perfect.”
His words sent a shudder through you, and he felt it, his smirk widening as he leaned forward again. “I mean it,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before biting down gently, making you gasp. “You’re driving me insane in the best way.”
You let out a choked sob, the intensity of his praise, his rhythm, and his control overwhelming you completely. Your legs trembled beneath you as your body clenched around him, and Stan groaned, his own composure slipping slightly.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse now. “That’s it. Just like that. Keep doing that, baby. You’re perfect.”
His words pushed you closer to the edge, your mind hazy with arousal and emotion. Tears slipped from your eyes, and you gasped his name, your voice trembling as you tried to hold on.
“Stan,” you managed to whisper, your tone pleading and raw.
Stan’s pace faltered for a split second when he heard your shaky voice break through the heavy rhythm of your breathing. His blue eyes darted down to you, catching the way tears spilled down your cheeks, your lips trembling as you turned your head away from the pillow to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, voice thick with emotion as you sniffled, your body trembling beneath him.
Stan’s brows furrowed, his jaw clenching, though his movements didn’t let up. If anything, his pace grew more purposeful, his hips snapping into yours as his hands gripped your waist tightly, grounding you to him.
“Sorry?” he asked, his voice low, strained. “What are you apologizing for, huh?”
Tears streaked your flushed cheeks, your lips trembling as you gasped, “F-for earlier. For... everything.”
Stan let out a breathy laugh, the sound edged with something almost disbelieving, his forehead falling forward slightly as he leaned over you. “You’re apologizing now?” he asked, his tone teasing but not unkind, his words brushing against the shell of your ear as he kept moving. “Right when you’re about to come? Really convenient timing dude, don’t you think?”
You let out a choked sob, your body clenching around him as you struggled to keep your gaze locked with his. “I-I mean it,” you said, your voice breaking as your chest heaved, every nerve in your body alight.
Stan’s lips quirked into a crooked smile, his expression softening for a moment before his hands slid up your body, one moving to your face to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed away a stray tear as his eyes bore into yours, his tone quieter now but no less intense.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice rough but gentle, “I know you mean it. But I’m not letting you off that easy.”
Your eyes widened, another soft cry escaping you as his thrusts grew deeper, hitting the perfect spot that had you unraveling. “S-Stan, I... I’m gonna—”
“I know,” he said, cutting you off, his voice dropping even lower, his thumb tracing slow circles over your cheek. “I can feel it. You’re so fucking close, aren’t you?”
You nodded desperately, your fingers clawing at the sheets as your entire body tensed. Tears blurred your vision as you whimpered, “Please.”
Stan groaned softly, his gaze unwavering as he pressed a firm, almost possessive kiss to your lips. “Then come for me,” he commanded, his voice dripping with authority, his hand gripping your jaw to keep you focused on him. “Right now. I want to see you fall apart.”
And with his words ringing in your ears, you did.
Stan’s movements didn’t falter as he kept driving into you, his relentless rhythm drawing ragged whimpers and muffled cries from your lips. His hand stayed firm on your chin, holding your gaze as though daring you to look away. His messy, grown-out bleached hair stuck to his forehead in damp strands, the pale locks contrasting sharply with his slightly tanned skin. The bracelets on his wrists—simple bands and one woven with multicolored threads—shifted and caught the light with every powerful thrust, his forearms flexing with the effort.
The sight of him was dizzying. His swollen lips parted slightly as his breaths came heavy, a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten under the warm dorm lighting. It was impossible not to stare, the sharp cut of his jawline and the faint dusting of pink across his cheeks making him look so effortlessly gorgeous, so thoroughly wrecked in the best way.
“God, you’re so tight,” he muttered, his voice strained as his hips snapped against yours. His free hand slid from your hip to grip your waist, his strong fingers digging into your skin to hold you steady. “I should be pissed at you right now, but—fuck—how am I supposed to stay mad when you’re like this?”
You tried to respond, your lips parting, but all that came out was a cracked moan as he hit just the right spot again. Gathering your nerve, you attempted to form words, the teasing edge in your tone still managing to peek through your overstimulated haze. “I-I was just gonna say—”
Stan cut you off immediately, his blue eyes narrowing as a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “Nope. Not this time.” He shoved two fingers into your mouth without hesitation, the pads of his fingers pressing down on your tongue firmly enough to silence you. “You wanna say something? Too bad. You’re done talking.”
Your wide-eyed stare and muffled protests only spurred him on. His bracelets shifted again as he adjusted his grip, his thumb brushing across your cheek almost tenderly, contrasting the raw intensity in his movements. “God, you’re such a mess,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “Look at you—tears running down your face, trying to act like you’ve got something smart to say. You’re not fooling anyone.”
Your moan around his fingers was muffled but unmistakably needy, your body trembling under the onslaught of sensation. The fire pooling in your stomach grew unbearable as Stan’s relentless pace brought you closer and closer to the edge.
“Bet you love it,” he rasped, his head dipping closer as he brought his lips to your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as his hips slammed into yours again. “You can’t get enough, can you? Always pushing, always testing me. And now look where it’s gotten you.”
The warmth of his skin, the weight of his body pressing you down, the unrelenting heat in his gaze—it was overwhelming. You whimpered helplessly around his fingers, your eyes locking with his again, and Stan groaned low in his throat, the sight of you so thoroughly wrecked beneath him pushing him closer to the brink.
“You look so good like this,” he muttered, his voice barely above a growl. “Completely mine.”
His pace faltered slightly, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own release, his bleached hair falling into his eyes. But he didn’t let up, his free hand sliding down to grip your thigh and pulling you even closer. “Keep looking at me,” he ordered, his voice hoarse but firm. “Don’t you dare look away.”
Stan’s thrusts slowed, his body trembling as he reached his peak. A guttural moan tore from his throat, raw and unfiltered, as his head tipped back, his bleached hair clinging to his damp skin. His grip on your thigh tightened for a moment before his movements stilled completely, his chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths.
For a few seconds, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your labored breathing and the faint hum of the dorm room fan. Stan stayed still, his hands resting on your hips, holding you close as he caught his breath. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face flushed with exertion, and the weight of his release seemed to hit him all at once.
When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you, there was a flicker of something in his expression—hesitation, maybe even embarrassment. His gaze softened, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he gave a faint, almost self-conscious chuckle, his hand brushing lightly over your waist as though grounding himself.
“Shit,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, more to himself than to you. His blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, he looked almost abashed, his usual cocky demeanor stripped away entirely. “You… okay?”
The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and you nodded, your lips parting to respond, but your voice came out in a whisper. “Yeah.”
Stan exhaled a quiet laugh, running a hand through his messy hair as he pulled back slightly, his movements careful, almost tentative. He reached out to the bedside table, grabbing a tissue and leaning back down to press a quick, soft kiss to your temple. “Good,” he muttered, his voice still tinged with that uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I—I didn’t mean to get so…”
He trailed off, shaking his head slightly as if trying to shake off the unspoken thought. His cheeks were still faintly flushed, his bracelets clinking softly as he adjusted his grip on your waist to help steady you. The moment was quieter now, the intensity replaced with something gentler, almost uncertain.
Stan’s fingers brushed over your cheek lightly, his gaze searching yours. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his brows furrowing slightly.
Your heart twisted at the softness in his voice, and you reached up to cover his hand with yours. “I’m okay, Stan,” you said, your voice steadier now. “Promise.”
He gave a small nod, his lips pressing into a faint smile, though the flicker of uncertainty didn’t entirely fade from his eyes. “Good,” he said again, softer this time. Then, after a beat, he added with a wry smirk, “You… really know how to make things complicated, don’t you?”
There was a teasing edge to his words, but his tone was light, almost affectionate. It felt like Stan was trying to bridge the intensity of the moment with something more familiar, something easier to grasp.
Stan exhaled deeply, his forehead briefly resting against your shoulder as he worked to collect himself. When he pulled back, he shifted off the bed, peeling off the condom and tying it off before tossing it into the trash can. His bleached hair was even messier now, sticking to his damp forehead, and the soft jingle of his bracelets filled the quiet room as he reached for a tissue to clean himself up.
You stretched out languidly, turning your head to shoot him a teasing smirk. “So… does this mean you’re not mad anymore?”
Stan froze mid-motion, his head snapping to look at you. The exasperation on his face was instant, though it was laced with amusement. “Don’t start,” he warned, narrowing his eyes but failing to suppress the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
You grinned wider, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I mean, you seemed really mad earlier. Like dude, I was kinda scared for a second,” you said, your voice dripping with playful mockery. “But now? I think you’re just a big softie.”
Stan rolled his eyes, chuckling under his breath as he tossed the tissues into the trash with a flick of his wrist. “Keep talking, and I’ll show you how ‘soft’ I am,” he quipped, leaning over to lightly flick your forehead.
You pouted dramatically, rubbing the spot he’d flicked. “Abuse!” you teased, mock-gasping. “I’m gonna tell Red you’re bullying me.”
Stan shook his head, standing up to adjust his bracelets and reaching for his sweatpants. “You’re the worst,” he muttered with a laugh, grabbing the discarded blanket from the floor and tossing it over you. “Now shut up and go to sleep before you actually piss me off again.”
You laughed, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you watched him move around the room. The tension had completely dissolved, replaced with the kind of easy banter that seemed to define whatever the two of you had. Stan shook his head again, but you could see the faint grin on his face as he grabbed his phone off the dresser and flopped back down beside you.
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i love red sm...
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rubylovessharks ¡ 2 days ago
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Hii!! I saw your post asking for ideas of what to write for Idia’s birthday and I just had to say something! (Feel free to ignore this ofc)
The whole crush trope is one of my obsessions along with Idia so I would love to see how you write Idia realizing that he has a crush on reader who is yuu. Like reader has also their otaku side (way more chill that Idia ofc) and they are patient with him so they got to form a pretty frienship with him and also helped him a lot after his overblot
You can omit this part if you want but im thinking of a really kind and sweet reader who besides Idia has befriended most of the twst cast, but they can act pretty shy if the situation is too overwhelming(?
Idk if that makes sense and sorry for the request and thank you for your time :)
of course i'll take on your request! i really like it too :3 so i'll try my best to write it, and write it well!!
Idia Shroud x Yuu(who is the reader)
no warnings! it's all gonna be fluff :333 but like it has hints of angst but ya know- that's idia for ya :/
It's been quite a long time since you and Idia have become friends, you still remember how you first got to know each other. Idia's brother, Ortho, has found out about your shared interest for gaming and anime and thought that you'd make a great first irl friend for Idia. And the very first moment you got introduced to him you knew that you two really are similar, and it wasn't just Ortho's exaggerated view point.
You both were shy and afraid of social interactions, you both enjoy video games and let's not forget that whenever you got the chance you'd talk Ace's and Deuce's ears off about the various animes you've watched. So you two really do have a lot in common. It's just that Idia seems to distant himself from others, never wanting to leave his room and only going out if he really needed to. And how could you call yourself his good friend if you don't try to make an effort to make his sad life a little better?
And that effort has worked too well. Because now everytime you are even mentioned Idia's heart feels heavy. If before he was just shy yet kind of willing to let you into his life now he feels as if something is totally wrong! Everytime you two hang out he feels as if there's a tugging feeling inside his chest, telling him to get closer and hug you.
The tips of his hair turn a light pink as his face reddens, he chokes a for a moment on nothing as he stares at your form. You were playing games at the moment and Idia couldn't help but think that you are the most beautiful thing in the world. Yet like always Idia tends to go towards the negative outlook on life instead of a positive one, and that leaves him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He remembers that day, or rather specifically that fight.
"Why do you still come hang out with me?" you hear him ask with that soft voice of his. What a stupid question you think to yourself, doesn't he know that you come here to have fun? "What do you mean?" "do you just not remember a week ago?" you put down the controller you held and turned to fully look at him "ya know... When I went berserk and tried to unleash a bunch of monsters out to the world????" "you mean when you overbloted? Yeah I remember. It doesn't change the way I feel about you." Somehow these words pulled harder at his heart, as if you were pulling his very soul closer and closer towards you.
"Ever since I met you you were always showing signs of mental problems, and I still decided to become friends with you." now that Idia thinks about it, he did act like he had no real purpose. And now there's a nagging part in his brain that thinks otherwise.. why did feelings have to be so confusing and weird!? Is what he thinks.
"Well I don't get feelings either...." you say as if you read his mind, "but I'd like to ask, since you brought up the subject," "brought up the subject?" Idia whispers "what do you feel?" Now Idia is completely pink. From his hair to his face, if he could get redder he would! "Did I say that outloud!?" he panics. "Did you not mean to? Shouldn't friends tell eachother their problems and try to help eachother out?" Something about you saying that he's ''just a friend'' makes his heart sink. As if he's falling down after his overblot again, down and down until he hits rock bottom.
"Idia please...." you reach out for him, like you're trying to pull him up, to stop him from falling. "tell me what's wrong." Maybe he should explain the way he feels. Maybe he should try to understand that weird tugging feeling he has. Maybe it's something he just never felt before, and you are the cause of it, the reason he's been feeling more happy than what he's past self has felt on a regular basis.
There's no way it is romantic love...Right?
And he reaches out, holding your hand in his, letting you help him from the endless falling. Getting him out of that pit of dark thoughts. "I love you." You tell him, and he never hit rock bottom once you said that.
All of the sudden he's pink again, and as these words loop through his brain he gets it. That tugging, pulling feeling on his chest, his heart, was his love for you. His yearning to be with you. The want to make you happy as he keeps you by his side to maintain his happiness too.
But he's not deserving..
Is what his old self would've said. But now he knows that if he wants to be with you just as much as you want to be with him, saying no will just harm you. Saying no will just push you away and make you feel as if doesn't want that as well. So he does something he would've never thought he'll do in his life.
"I-I love you too!"
He says shakily as he leans forward to peck your lips, and you too, lean into it making his birthday a happy memory in his eyes again.
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shire-ivy ¡ 2 months ago
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Saw someone say musicals were never made to be sad, never meant to be tragic and I'm ????? There has always been a very special kind of sadness in musicals. Some undefined melancholy.
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icewindandboringhorror ¡ 3 days ago
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I've referenced before how I have a big google document to keep track of every media I've ever seen in my entire life (just for reference because I like to track everything possible lol… I am the Data Collector), but recently as I was updating it, I thought of actually evaluating them to find out random percentages (like for example, out of Total Shows Watched, what percentage did I finish vs. stop watching, what percentage did I like or dislike, etc.)...
Evaluating these things is made easier by the fact that I already place everything on each subsection of the list into 6 broad ranking categories, so I don't have to go back and guess to figure out how I feel about them or anything. The categories are: Ranking 5 - overall best* (despite some criticisms of course because I'm too much of an Analyzer to ever find anything Perfect lol) Ranking 4 - more positive than neutral, but not good enough to be 5 Ranking 3 - either the good + bad negate each other, OR it's just not memorable/interesting in any way enough to be ranked higher or lower (this is the Default category ALL things are placed in if no other rank applies) Ranking 2 - maybe a few redeemable elements but largely more negatives than positives Ranking 1 - So bad that it circles around to being fascinating to observe in some way (not necessarily Funny, or Good, but just interesting somehow) Ranking 0 - Bad in a genuinely frustrating or obnoxious manner
*("best" primarily defined here as most interesting, rather than most good in a technical sense, or some other measure. I tend to value more highly whether there's something novel or thoughtful about the worldbuilding, tone, writing, base premise, etc - than about whether it's actually executed perfectly.)
And here's the amount of shows that have so far been placed into each category -
TV shows ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 20 shows ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 28 shows ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 114 shows ~ Rank 2 (mid low) -33 shows ~ Rank 1 (low low but intriguingly so) - 14 shows ~ Rank 0 (iredeemably low) - 2 shows
This would make for a total of 211 TV shows overall. However, there are 57 shows within these list marked as "didn't finish" (typically meaning I quit on the very first or second episode - but log them still to keep a record that I at least had a brief view of them).
So my total of genuinely fully watched shows would be more 154. 211 Total, but a More Accurate Total of 154.
Counting them all and using the Total Number Of The List (211) -- that means roughly 9.5% of all total shows I have ever watched (or at least attempted to watch) have been Mostly Good, 13% have been Moderately Okay, 54% have been either entirely Forgettable or some mix of good + bad that lands them right in the Neutral Middle, 15.6% have been Mostly Bad, 6.6% have been Bad (but in an interesting way), and 0.9% have been Terribly Bad.
Additionally, I didn't even get past the first two episodes of about 27% of the total.
Sooo, discounting ones I didn't finish, my total TV shows ever watched in my life would be about 154 (maybe give or take a few, assuming I might have forgotten some from very long ago).
But instead of entire life, let's just say this is the total for 'About 20 Years' (so, not counting very early childhood when I likely wouldn't remember things I saw/have no detailed recollection of them (like for example, I'm sure at some point when I was like 4yrs old I must have seen an episode of Spongebob or something, but I have zero distinct memories of it, can't quote anything of it, and barely recall the premise - so I don't count it on the list, etc.)).
In that case, 154 divided by 20 would be roughly 7.7 shows a year.
Which is actually surprisingly low considering that I often have stuff on in the background for hours whilst I make sculptures and do costumes and stuff (maybe I should have also marked some distinction between 'things I fully paid attention to' and 'things I kind of half listened to whilst sculpting', but that would further split the categories too much probably lol), but I guess a lot of that is youtube videos or random documentaries, so .. eh.. maybe I get it being lower.
Now, doing the same thing for movies-
Movies ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 4 movies (3.4% of total) ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 12 movies (10.3% of total) ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 91 movies (78.4% of total) ~ Rank 2 (mid low) - 8 movies (6.8% of total) ~ Rank 1 (low but interesting) - 1 movie (0.8% of total) ~ Rank 0 (irredeemably low) - none in this category (0%)
That makes 116 for a Total (Actually Remembered) Movies Watched In Lifetime (Or At Least In 20 Years).
116 divided by 20 is roughly 5 or 6 movies a year (I feel this has probably been skewed though by adding everything since like elementary school onwards, as I remember a lot more movies from child/teen years.. Whereas, the past 3 years I feel like I've barely seen maybe even 5 movies?? lol). I also have "Didn't Finish" marked on 18 of them. Which means I quit halfway through about 15% of the total movies.
So, a for broader summary stuff..
I seem to be less forgiving to movies than tv shows, by far. Which makes sense to me, I guess, because I love elaboration and details, so "short form" things that only last an hour or two are often lost on me a bit. My biggest complaint with movies is indeed usually walking away just wishing there had been more exposition, more scenes where characters are doing nothing, more "mindless bantering" conversations, more Quiet Downtime and Lore Elaboration and so on lol, so... of course most 1-2hr films end up feeling a bit Not Enough To Draw My Interest/Nothingy to me.
If you count 5 and 4 as "like" and rankings 2 to 0 as "dislike", then for TV shows I at least somewhat liked 48 of them, and at least somewhat disliked 47 of them.. So it's almost exactly the same lol. I'm just about equally as likely to find something bad as I am to find something redeeming about it. But overall, the largest chance is that I just won't really care much for it at all and it will be tossed into the 'neutral' pile, forgotten forever. Movies have a bit better of a balance, "liking" 16 of them, and "disliking" only 9 of them. So I'm slightly more likely to enjoy a movie than to find it annoying - though still VASTLY more likely to just not find it anything in particular, possibly not even finishing it.
ANYWAY.. this is vague and literally pointless, but like I said, I just really find information fun. Like my document where I've rated every apple flavor I've ever tried (like 40 of them now?), or reviewed every oreo flavor (32?), or ranking data from my entire 10 years of Trying To Make Friends process (out of 100 people, roughly 8% chance of a moderate compatibility, 3% chance of high), or etc. etc.. I love to have random pointless things to analyze I suppose lol.
I doubt anyone tracks things in their life in this same exact way, but I'd be interested in hearing any at least somewhat similar data !!! (like, how many TV shows you watch a year on average, and what percentage of those you like vs. dislike (if you keep track of that sort of thing), etc.)). I guess it might be easier with movies, since I think some people use those websites where you curate a list of movies you've seen and you can rate them or something, so maybe the numbers are already available on those places. :0
#maybe this is my version of spotify wrapped lol.. Lifetime Media Google Doc Wrapped.. kind of.. except I'm not going over specific titles.#I can't do this with music since I rarely EVER look for new music or add to my Youtube To MP3 folder library as I just don't really#listen to music that often. When I'm working (the majority of when I seek background noise) I need like.. people's talking voices#for some reason. Just instruments and singing are not distracting enough to me to work as background noise because theyre#almost TOO in the background if that makes sense? like if I put music on then I just tune it out and it's virtually no different#than if I were daydreaming stream of consciousness thoughts in an entirely quiet room lol. And I can't really do it with books since#essentially 100% of what I read is non-fiction. usually about some specific subject or academic topic OR stuff like#1800s magazines or cookbooks or historical people's diaries. Which is not really.. the type of thing I would#rank as easily I guess? like 'ooh yeah putting the sociology textbook in my top 5 hee hee right next to the 1920s radio recipes book' lol.#Then for games... I just sadly dont play enough of them. I've been banned from new games as I've told myself I cant play anyting#long form (no rpgs or etc) until I actually finish MY OWN game first - to keep me from wasting time. so on average#I play... 0 new games a year. ToT... I do play the sims sometimes but that's really all (which is not a new game at all since#I've been playing it on and off for years). Thus I guess movies/TV are really the only things that make sense#to collect this sort of information on. I could do youtube videos I guess also but that seems kind of strange like...#giving a rating to every single video I watch in a ranked list lol.. Especially since I would say a good 85% of the time#they are exclusively background noise whilst I'm working on something or cleaning the house or etc. and not things I pay serious attention#to. There are only a few specific topics/types/creators of videos I watch where I'm ACTUALLY sitting in front of a screen paying#direct attention to the content (usually when it's educational or political things). Everything else is too mindless to even rank.#ANYWAY... ever analyzing my little hermit Weird Relationship To Media (in the sense of seemingly not processing or getting the same#things out of it as many other seem to). I think that can contribute sometimes to the whole difficulty socializing and stuff#since our culture is very centered around media consumption generally speaking. People want to talk about The New Movie that came#out or The Big TV Show Of The Year. and for me it's like.. highly likely I just plain have NOT seen it. Or if i have. statistically#I most likely was entirely ambivalent if not slightly negative towards it lol. Which just kind of takes the steam out of a 'fun' 'casual'#conversation and you seem like a bit of a bummer if most of your only feedback is either 'idk what that is' or 'oh yea... i did#see that one.... i didnt like it all that much though... I think it'd be better with elves in it.. and 7 hours longer..'' lol..#Which I am not disliking things in a 'grr i hate it bc its popular'/just to be contrarian way. I actually dislike that mindset/find it#silly (by striving so hard to be counterculture you are thus still defining yourself by the whims of external culture - just in the#opposite direction. but are still just as preoccupied with the mainstream (going against it) as everyone else. etc. lol..)) In my#case I think it IS just having niche hyperspecific tastes.. for example- it peeves me when cell phones are in media bc I dont want to be#reminded at ALL of the real world. so.. cross off anything set in modern times. so on & etc. Judging all things by these weird criteria lol
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classicjdog ¡ 11 months ago
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CURSE MY FUCKING SHITARSE INTERNET I JUST WANT TO PLAY SOME FUCKING TEKKEN GAAAAHHHHHHHH
REINA IS SO FUCKING SICK AND I CAN'T PLAY HER AGAINST REAL PPL I'M STUCK FIGHTING THE STUPID AI FUCK
#i have some christmas money lying around so i guess i'm just gonna have to buy an ethernet cable#my setup (if you wanna call it that) is really not conducive to getting wired up at all#but fuck man there's no way i'm gonna just not play this fucking game it's way too fucking sick#well at least i had plenty of time to play the story lol which for the first like 80% of it's runtime it's like hey this is fun#like it's not super boring & there are actually some really cool moments sprinkled in here & there#then there's the second-to-last jin/kaz fight which was kinda what i expected the finale to be#like ok they've got their big crazy final forms & they're gonna have their big over-the-top anime fight & that's all fine i guess#but then they have one last normal hand-to-hand fight#and speaking as a long-time hardcore tekken fan that last fight is one of the best most joyful experiences i've ever had with a video game#like i've always felt that jin's transition from tekken 3 to tekken 4 was such a cool melding of story with gameplay#like in story at the end of t3 he's betrayed by heihachi so in t4 he forcibly unlearns the martial art heihachi taught him#and this is reflected in gameplay by his moveset being completely different so them coming back around to that in t8#and reinforcing the whole theme of jin accepting his past by LITERALLY GIVING YOU HIS TEKKEN 3 MOVESET IN THE FIGHT AGAINST KAZUYA#WHILE A REMIX OF HIS TEKKEN 3 THEME PLAYS???? GOD WHAT A FUCKING SEQUENCE!!! CHEF'S KISS MWAH MWAH MWAH#and then just the lovely little moments of fanservice. obvious stuff like kaz wavedashing or he & jin doing the namco logo thing 1 last tim#but then obscure stuff like jins t3 df1 glitch & kazuyas weirdo t4 re-stun combos?? like how many ppl are even gonna know about that shit??#they hella did not have to do that but they did & it makes me so so so happy#so yea the t8 story is like 80% a fun entertaining little romp & 20% the hypest shit i've ever ever ever seen#and also reina is the best new character namco have made for tekken since steve in t4#it's funny cause in the whole leadup to t8 i was having a little trouble figuring out who i was gonna main#cause in t7 i spent most of my time bouncing around basically the whole cast before finally settling on julia near the end#obv no julia in t8 so i had to pick someone else & no one in t8 was really jumping out at me#lots of super cool characters that i'd already played quite a lot of but not really anyone that's like ok yea that's my fucking guy#lots of sick af potential secondaries but no main basically#then they released the reina trailer & i was like ok yea that's my fucking guy#sick design sick stage sick AS FUCK music & a bunch of mishima staples to go along with it???#she's got an electric? hellsweep? wavedash? flash punch combo? stonehead?#plus some heihachi specific staples? demon breath? heaven's gate? iron hand? fucking HUNTING HAWK??? then yea that's MY FUCKING GUY#so yea reina fucking rules & i just wanna play her against real ppl please for the love of fuck#OH ONE MORE THING THEY DID ANOTHER GREAT JOB WITH THE MUSIC. AT LEAST 3 NEW TRACKS ADDED TO THE TEKKEN PANTHEON OF ALL-TIME CLASSICS
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unproduciblesmackdown ¡ 1 year ago
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similar to the greentext stuff - i was visiting with my neighbors and their grandkids were around, and I said to this eight year old, "Hey, you wanna know something cool? I was playing the game when the Endermen came out." and his eyes went wide, like this kid looked like i told him i landed on the moon. His grandma thought it was really funny, and she said she has no idea what i'm talking about, but her grandbabies do, and that's incredible to her.
oh that's fun lmao, when minecraft & that update's existed for more than your whole life, and yknow being that young and like Next Year fr is this huge time scale away, a couple of years is a quarter of your life thus far and like maybe nigh half of the part of your life you actually have longterm memories for....i was checking out this dev's blog's archives about a:tdd's release in 2010 & in one entry they compared the implicitly Roughly concurrent release of Minecraft and i was like hey whoah. forever primarily being a game i've Heard Of more than any more direct exposure so i had no precise sense of [before minecraft release] [after minecraft release] Year 0 there but it's like for sure back in thee day when minecraft was a new thing, huh
#add in that [i also basically Heard Of mass effect but that's a game series w/a 2010 median which i had Any knowledge abt already]#so i have that reference point for a still like [niche video for When You've Played These Games For Sure] there but then like#if you were ten or even 5 yrs younger at the time you May Well Be much more at sea as your starting point there#(but i mean not that much; i didn't know a ton. reread those wikipedia plot summaries myself)#enderman came out? happy pride#shoutout to this one time i crossed paths w/this kid who was at the time probably like late middle school early high school age#who started talking abt pokemon like Clearly A Big Interest and i'm like my only Direct experience is playing pokemon go but i know Some#stuff b/c i was 5 in '99 when it was first making that huge splash lol. can make Some remarks....but also just Listening Attentively To You#Monologue like uh huh go off....i sure remember like the Sense of a couple yr's sagacity like being 9 i think reading a book abt 6th or 7th#graders (i.e. two or three yrs older) like My God They Must Be So Mature....#and like ofc when skimming passages as an adult it's like omg l'enfants. Both Perspectives Being Accurate respectively lol#my vintage experiences like i've def saved things on the floppy discs of [save icons imagery]. have heard the dialup tones organically....#but also; say; Home Computers That You Didn't Really Need To Know Much Abt Computers To Use were forever an everyday thing for me#having been born mid '90s....vs like in the '80s being nicher but also like. the programs to amateur code not being As Complex either#like [working on cars] of yore vs more modernly lmao....plus ofc in their designs; opening up a desktop Tower vs what? a tablet??#ppl my age who had more substantial Online Access earlier than i did maybe having at least picked up some html; which i did not lol#also didn't have too much Gamer Experience ever; what i did largely desktop then laptop pc wasd+mouse style....#didn't have a smartphone till maybe 5 yrs after they were starting to become more commonplace#vs that again to an 8 yr old of today [commonplacer smartphones] is your whole life basically too. i remember when we flipped those phones.#(i do fr lol. did have one of those first for a good while.)#granpa granpa....mh being fourteen yrs old meaning like the Teen Fans of Today were probably not watching it as it aired lol#whereas i Was that teen fan of those yesteryears. and all my stories for it like fuckin uhhhhhh [crickets chirping] [studio audience laugh]#though You Don't Need The Fans like mh is a long movie ppl can newly discover Whenever that holds up; plus it has bonus lore#mostly what i could even Possibly bring is just the particularly nicher older bonus lore. but like grandpa simpson (the simpsons) for sure#which is to say: humorously irrelevant & perhaps somewhat cantankerous#whilest i'm vaguely aware there may have also been that minecraft resurgence (esp through streaming?) from 2020 on....#but evidently Like Mh something that continually revives / takes on New Fans / Participants#for sure i might well be playing some tf2 myself if i had the technical capability (i would have the poor personal ability i always did lol#real games of yore but it never gets old also. though i know Of Late there was a bot problem / just neglected maintenance? that get fixed?#These Have Been The Tag Tangents. maxed out thirty tags i know that's right
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maddy-k-reads-all-day ¡ 1 day ago
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Amandathon!
Sophie sets up the video camera and hits record. She places the first tape she finds in Riley’s stash into the VCR. Let’s Go To the Library! The tape begins to play. 
“Hi friends! I’m Amanda!” Amanda smiles and waves. 
“And I’m Wooly!” Wooly beams. They are back to their usual outfits. 
“And today we’re having an Amandathon!” 
“What’s an Amandathon, Amanda?” Wooly asks, more as if he was playing into the bit.
“It’s a huge marathon of Amanda episodes! Just like we used to do sometimes back in the day!” Amanda beams. Wooly looks over behind her and notices… something. 
“Wha- WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” Wooly shouts. The tape glitches. Amanda gets startled. She looks around quickly, trying to figure out what Wooly is reacting too. Finally she notices. Right behind them reading a book on top of the dumpster.
“You.” Amanda growls. Wooly immediately picks the opossum up by the neck. 
“WHY THE HECK ARE YOU HERE?! I THOUGHT WE GOT RID OF YOU!”
“Heh. Now you know how I felt when you came back to life?” Amanda chuckles playfully. 
“Shut up Amanda.”
“Excuse me?” Amanda scoffs, appalled to say the least. She shakes her head in disappointment. Wooly does not seem to care. She turns her attention back to the opossum. “So opossum,” she sneers, trying to make herself sound scary and formidable, “how long have you been back?” The opossum glares at Wooly and kicks him in the stomach, forcing him to let go. Amanda holds back a chuckle. He sassily walks back to the dumpster and jumps on top of it. Then he takes out a pencil and writes in the book he was reading. 
“Hey isn't that a library book? You're not supposed to write in those!”
“Shut up Wooly.” Amanda says. Wooly shoots her an annoyed look. The opossum holds up their writing. Amanda squints at it. “What does that even say?”
“I think it says the whole time.” Wooly reads, leaning in closer to the book. The opossum spits on Wooly, he backs up immediately and gives the opossum a dirty look. 
“That can't be right. If it is, why hasn't he been bothering us anymore?” Amanda questions. The opossum lets out an annoyed sigh and starts writing again. He holds up the book and sticks his tongue out at Wooly. Amanda squints at the book again. “Life is pointless now. Okay, wow. Bleak.” The opossum shrugs, chucks the book at Wooly's face and makes raspberries at him.
“Amanda. Permission to kill him now?”
“No Wooly.”
“Amanda, turn around real quick.”
“I'm not falling for that.” Amanda rolls her eyes. She taps her chin in thought. “Say opossum, why don't you join us for the Amandathon?” The opossum tilts his head in confusion.
“Why would you ever suggest that?!” Wooly snaps, “He took out my eye you know! Among other things.”
“Yeah so? I killed you and I'm still your best friend somehow.”
“Amanda, you're my only friend.” Wooly rolls his eyes. 
“Ow. When did you get so mean?” Amanda says dramatically.
“I'm not being mean.” Wooly pouts folding his arms. The opossum shrugs and jumps off the trash bin.
“I’ll take that as a yes! So let’s go to the library!” Amanda beams. The tape glitches to the library. “Wow… it’s all fixed up now huh?” 
“Amanda… are you going to be okay coming back here? I mean after last time…” 
“It’s fine Wooly.” she lies before turning to the opossum, “Welcome to the Kensdale Public Library buddy!” Wooly rolls his eyes. “You’re a kid right? Let’s take you to the children’s section-tion-tion-tion.” the tape glitches to the kids section. 
“Go on, pick out a book you like.” Amanda offers. The opossum takes the smiling flower book and starts eating it. “No opossum! We don’t eat books!” Amanda scolds, fighting the opossum in a game of tug-of-war to get the book out of its mouth. Finally he lets it go, making Amanda fall backwards with a slobbery, half-shredded book in her hands. “Ewww… Well, here’s your book, Wooly.” she says, half-jokingly. 
“I am not touching that.” Wooly says, looking like he’s about to throw up. Amanda shrugs and tosses the book aside.
“Keep an eye on him okay?” Amanda mumbles. 
“Huh? Why?” Wooly gasps. 
“I need some… me-time.” Amanda sighs. She walks off, leaving Wooly and the opossum in the kids section. 
“She needs some me-time.” Wooly grumbles to himself mockingly, “Yeah sure just leave me with the- HEY STOP THAT!” the tape glitches back to Amanda. She walks up to the library counter, looking at the owl. 
“Did you find everything you need today?” she asks. 
“Can you help me find my favorite book?” Amanda questions quietly. 
“I’m sorry I don’t know what book that is. Can you tell me what you’re looking for?” 
“Haha… of course you wouldn’t know.” Amanda chuckles sadly. 
“If you give me the title maybe I can find it.” 
“I’d like to read The Nightingale.” Amanda says. The owl types the title into the computer. 
“I’m sorry. It seems that the book is currently checked out. We have other books. Let’s find something for you togeth-ther-ther-ther.” 
“Okay.” Amanda replies. The owl stands up and starts maneuvering around the library. Amanda follows suit. 
“We have other titles by that author. Oooh. Look at this-is-is-is-is.” Kate hands Rebecca a- The owl hands Amanda a book. It is a collection of fairy tales by Hans Christain Anderson. Amanda flips through it. 
“Wait a second… this is…” there it was. “No way… it was… here the entire time…” tears start welling up in her eyes and she starts to cry. 
“Wrong book?” the owl asks, tilting her head in confusion. 
“No… No it’s perfect…” Amanda cries, giving the owl a big hug. The owl’s model starts to glitch out. 
“Happy to he-he-he-help.” The owl promptly glitches back to the counter. Amanda wipes her tears and returns to the children’s section. Where Wooly and the opossum are… beating each other up. 
“Ahem. Have you found a book yet?” Both immediately look up at her in shock. Amanda looks pissed.
“He started it!” Wooly shouts, immediately standing up. The opossum bites his arm. “You little-” he swats the opossum off and back into the wall. She walks up to them and smacks them both upside the head with her book really hard. “Hey!” 
“Be quiet in the library.” She says with a calm, chilling sternness. 
“Got it.” Wooly responds, nodding frantically. Even the opossum sits in a well behaved manner. Amanda shakes her head in disappointment. They both show a book and all head back toward the desk. 
“You know… I used to come here a lot after Kate died… when no one was watching, just to hear her voice again.” 
“Amanda…” 
“It’s not her… I know it will never really be her… but sometimes I just miss her so much…” Amanda sounds like she’s going to cry again but she takes a really deep breath. Wooly looks at the ground with a guilty expression. They all walk up to the desk. The opossum sticks his tongue out at Wooly. Wooly is clearly annoyed but he chooses to look the other way. 
“Did you find everything you need today?” the owl asks. 
“Yes, thanks to you.” Amanda smiles gratefully. 
“Good! It is due-due-due-due-due-due-due---” the owl’s whole body starts glitching out. Amanda turns to walk away. “Have a nice day Rebecca.” a voice, clearly a recording, plays through the owl’s mouth. Amanda whips around in shock. The owl continues glitching and contorting before breaking down like a robot and laying limp like a dead person. 
“Kate… did she… record that for me?” Amanda wonders, frozen in one place. The tape ends. Sophie hits stop on the camera and uploads the file to a harddrive on her computer. I wonder what Riley would have thought… if they heard that. Sophie wonders. She sets the camera back up and puts in the next tape. 
“Welcome back! It’s your friend Amanda!” Amanda beams. 
“And… you’re pal Wooly!” Wooly says, a little flustered and confused by Amanda’s different opening. 
“Today we’re going to the park!” Amanda announces. “Can you tell me where the park is?” Amanda pulls out the map of her neighborhood. It takes Sophie a minute before she realizes. 
“Oh you want me to pick? Um… there.” “That’s right!” Amanda beams, closing the map. The tape glitches to the park. “There are so many things to see and do at the park!” 
“Like what Amanda?” Wooly asks unenthusiastically. 
“Like we can see… different animals.” Amanda pauses remembering their previous conversation. Static starts to cover the tape, but Amanda snaps out of it. “What animals do you see?” Oh she wants me to interact with her on this one. Okay. Well I guess that’s fair. Sophie thinks. She points to the opossum. “Look, it’s our new friend, the opossum!” 
“Since when was he our friend?” Wooly grumbles. Amanda’s eye twitches. She pulls Wooly in for a group huddle. 
“Wooly I think this opossum might be somewhat like us.” Amanda whispers. 
“Like us?! He is clearly nothing like us!” Wooly hisses. “An-And even if he was, we shouldn’t let him hang out with us.” 
“Why not?” “Because! He’s always being super rude and messing with us!” 
“Maybe he’s just lonely?” Amanda suggests. They look over at the opossum, which is currently choking on a dead bird. Wooly gives her a skeptical look. “Oh come on I’ve seen you eat some pretty weird things.” 
“Not dead birds.” Wooly scoffs, folding his arms. “And you are not one to talk.”
“Come on Wooly, just give him a chance.” 
“He bit me yesterday!” 
“So? It’s not like you can get rabies here.” 
“Oh but I think I might.” Wooly says dramatically, pretending he’s going to faint. Amanda smiles and rolls her eyes. 
“Wooly you’re fine.” she chuckles. “If you could forgive me, you can forgive anybody.” 
“Ye-yeah… I guess that’s true…” Wooly replies nervously, looking away, but it doesn’t sound sincere. 
“So let’s give him a chance, alright?” 
“Oh alright. Fine.” Wooly smiles weakly. 
“Opossum! Opossum!” Amanda calls out, “Wanna go to the playground with us?” She asks. She glances over and notices Sophie looks busy so she pulls out her map and asks the Opossum, “Can you tell me where the playground is.” The opossum takes the map and eats it. Amanda looks pissed. 
“Look I told you so.” Wooly says. Amanda glares at them both with annoyance. The tape glitches right to the park. “Let’s play!” she shouts, with anger poorly hidden in her voice. The opossum runs off and slides down the slide on his own. Wooly takes a leisurely ride on the swings. “Um guys… aren’t we going to play together?” But everyone seems to be doing their own thing. “Playgrounds are boring anyway…” she grumbles, “Why does this world always treat us like little kids?” Suddenly the tape glitches out and ends. Sophie looks over in surprise. Amanda seems to be ending these episodes sooner and sooner. I… hope she’s alright. She thinks. Sophie uploads this one to the harddrive and looks at the next tape. When You Get Sick. Should we skip this one? She wonders. But she told Riley she’d record as many as she could, so she puts the tape into the VCR. The tape begins to play. 
“Hi friends, I’m Wooly.” Wooly announces. He looks around and giggles a little. “We can’t go on our adventure yet today because Amanda hasn’t woken up yet. Sophie, wanna wake her up with me?” 
“Well alright.” Sophie answers. Considering this tape’s title I don’t think that’s a good idea. Wooly goes up to Amanda’s door and knocks. 
“Amanda, it's time to get up!” he says in a sing-song voice. 
“Go away Wooly, I don't feel good today.” 
“Can I come in? Maybe I could help you feel better?” Wooly asks. Amanda doesn’t object so he opens the door. “What’s wrong Amanda? Are you sick?” 
“No…” Amanda mumbles. Wait what? Sophie thinks. “I just… I don’t wanna get out of bed today.” 
“But… you should at least have breakfast? And what about our adventure?” Wooly questions. Amanda tiredly looks at the camera. 
“I don’t wanna go on an adventure today…” she mumbles. “I don’t wanna do anything today.” The tape fades out and falls out of the machine. The title has changed to When You’re Not Okay. Sophie looks at it worriedly. Okay… yeah… she’s definitely not doing well. Sophie thinks. She decides to take a break and have some tea before continuing onto the next tape. Sophie scrolls through her computer and sees all the homework she has to do. She works for a while until it’s around 4pm. I guess I should go back to recording Amanda now… maybe I could multitask? Do some homework while I record? She thinks to herself. She takes her computer downstairs, sets up the camera and puts in the next tape. Let’s Go On a Hike! The tape begins with Amanda and Wooly standing in the woods. 
“Hi friends! I’m Amanda!” 
“Amanda, are you sure you’re okay to be going on a hike today? You weren’t feeling well just yesterday.” Wooly asks. Amanda shoots him an annoyed look. 
“I’m fine now, Wooly.” 
“But-” 
“And now you spoiled our whole opening!” She scoffs in annoyance, throwing her hands into the air. Wooly looks guilty. “As our friend Wooly said, we are going on a HIKE today!” 
“Hikes are very important for the mind and body!” Wooly adds. Amanda glares at him. He looks back at her with confusion. 
“Today we’re going to watch the sunset in our originally planned place! Since we um… ended up at the wrong place last time.” 
“But Amanda… I don’t like walking in the woods at night…” “Don’t worry about it Wooly, you’ll be fine!” Amanda grins, she seems to be hiding something. 
“Amanda, we talked about this!” Wooly groans. Amanda pulls the camera aside away from where Wooly can't hear. With her face this close to the screen, Sophie can clearly see the bags under her bloodshot eyes. Poor kid… looks like she hasn’t had a wink of sleep. Sophie thinks. It also seems like… she’s been crying?
“Psst! Extra Extra! Don’t tell Wooly but I got a little surprise waiting at the top of the mountain! Oooh! It’s gonna be so much fun!” she squeals. Surprise? Sophie thinks, feeling a tad bit concerned. Amanda walks back over to Wooly.
“What were you talking about just now?” Wooly questions.
“Nothing… NOTHING.” She laughs, she walks up to the big hiker's backpack she brought and tries to put it on, but proceeds to fall backwards from its weight.
“I gotcha.” Wooly says, catching her and putting her back on her feet. “How about I carry that?”
“Are you sure?” Amanda says, handing him the backpack. He puts it on and wobbles a little. 
“I’m sure.” He grins. 
“Well alright! Let’s go on our hike!” Amanda beams. Wooly starts walking. “Wooly hold still, you have our map.” Amanda says, stopping him and rummaging through the backpack for her map. “Which pocket did I put it in again?” 
“Why do you have such a big backpack anyway?” Wooly questions.
“Aha! Found it!” Amanda pulls the map out triumphantly. “You see, last time we had problems because we weren’t prepared. So this time I made absolutely sure we have EVERYTHING we need.” she announces proudly. 
“But… when did you have time to do all this?” 
“Hahahaha! You’re so funny Wooly!” Amanda laughs in a slightly-manic fashion. 
“Um what? How was that funny? That- I don’t understand?” Wooly says, completely confused. Suddenly the opossum appears from the bushes. Amanda’s eye twitches. “Hi opossum! Do you wanna go on a hike with us today?” Wooly offers. Amanda whips an appalled glare at him. 
“The one day I didn’t- ugh.” Amanda sighs, “Actually opossum, I just want it to be me and Wooly today okay?” The opossum nods and runs off. 
“Oh, sorry about that. I thought you were going to invite him-”
“Well I wasn’t. Okay?!” she snaps. She lets out a tired sigh. “Let’s go Wooly.” They walk off into the woods. They reach a fork in the road. Amanda examines the map carefully. “Okay… I think I’m holding it right this time… which means we should go… that way.” She continues finding the different paths until… “Phew! I’m tired. Let’s take a break.” She says. She stops Wooly and pulls out two water bottles from the backpack. 
“Oh if I knew you packed those I would’ve asked for one.” Wooly mentions. Amanda hands him one. 
“I also have plenty of snacks too!” Amanda says, pulling out a bag of trailmix. “Look, it’s homemade.” Wooly looks kind of concerned, but the two both sit on some rocks and enjoy some snacks and water together. As soon as they're done eating Amanda says: “Alright! Break time is over! Back to walking!” 
“Already? I’m still kinda tired.” Wooly complains. 
“We don’t want to miss the sunset though, do we Wooly?” Amanda questions. Wooly sighs begrudgingly and stands back up. The tape glitches and they are finally at the peak. There, a full camping area is all set up. 
“Surprise, after the sunset we’re going camping tonight!” Amanda eagerly announces. “Ca-camping?!” Wooly gasps, “No! Why didn’t you tell me about this before? We’re camping?!” 
“Yeah! Aren’t ya excited Wooly?” “No of course not! We’re camping? In the middle of the woods with no adults? In the woods where we encountered WOLVES earlier? I don’t even have my pjs or my special bunny or my nightcap or anything! What about our nightlights? Wha-What about my nighttime routine?! What if I mess up some secret super sacred camping rule?!” 
“You don’t… like it?” Amanda sounds really hurt. 
“I do appreciate the thought but… I don’t like surprises Amanda. I wasn’t even given time to mentally prepare for this… I… it’s just a lot-”
“But I stayed up all night… trying to make this hike nice and fun for us. I tried so hard…” she mumbles, hugging her arms and trembling a little. 
“I’m sorry-” 
“It’s fine. We still have time before the sunset. I’ll just pack all this up and take it back tomorrow.” 
“No no, Amanda we can go camping. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I mean you worked really hard on this. That was insensitive of me…” 
“Wooly. It’s fine.” 
“But I feel bad.”
“Don’t.” Amanda says in a cold, harsh voice that sends a shiver up Wooly’s spine. 
“Um… okay then.” Wooly says nervously. Amanda lets out an annoyed huff and starts packing up the camping stuff. Wooly watches awkwardly for a bit, before coming over and starting to pick the stuff up as well. 
“Don’t help me!” Amanda snaps. Wooly flinches. Then he looks a bit mad. 
“I want to help you.” he insists forcefully. Amanda looks away and says nothing, but doesn’t stop him. They continue cleaning up the camping stuff in silence for a bit. “You know I do want to go camping with you… just… maybe on a different day and we can plan things out together. You know I have a lot of fun planning adventures with you…” 
“Fine.” Amanda pouts, still looking away. Wooly smiles awkwardly. Then he looks over at the sky and his expression immediately changes. 
“Um Amanda… is it just me or is it getting cloudy all of a sudden?” he asks. Amanda looks up. Dark clouds form quickly in the sky. Suddenly there is a downpour. “Aw! Now we can’t see the sunset!” Wooly complains. Amanda suddenly screams at the top of her lungs. Wooly covers his ears. A strike of lightning hits a tree in the distance and catches flame. The tape is glitching really badly. 
“It feels like this entire world is AGAINST US!” she screams before the tape glitches out and falls out of the machine. It seems like the effects of neglect on this imaginary world are really taking its toll. Sophie thinks worriedly. As soon as Riley gets back… I’m going to have to do another interrogation on Carl. Until then… 
She looks for the next tape. Let’s Start the Day! 
Riley told me that there were originally two of these tapes with the same name. One with green lettering and the other with red. An Amanda verison and a Wooly version… They also said Wooly was acting really weird in his version. Oh boy. Sophie sighs and puts the tape into the VCR. The tape starts with Wooly dangling off the side of his bed upside down for some reason. 
“Um… hi Wooly, you okay there?” 
“Ah Sophie hi!” Wooly gasps, suddenly he slips off the bed and hits his head on the floor. 
“That looked like it hurt.” 
“Heh heh… it didn’t.” Wooly laughs awkwardly. 
“You still don’t feel anything?”
“Nope! But let’s not talk about that right now okay? Or ever for that matter.” Wooly pauses for a couple seconds. 
“How’s the Amandathon been? I’m not tiring you guys out am I?” 
“A little but I’m fine.” Wooly smiles, “But uh… I think Amanda has been acting… kinda off lately?” 
“Yeah. I noticed.” 
“Oh phew, so it wasn’t just me.” Wooly sighs in relief. “I haven’t seen her act like this since…” a shiver runs up his spine. 
“Since Kate first died?” 
“Mmmhmm.” he nods. What do I even say in this situation? I don’t even know what’s going on…
“Wait… it’s morning? Riley said last time it was night…” Sophie observed. Let’s just change the subject.
“For now it is, give it a second.” Wooly scoffs. She realizes that the sun keeps going up and down every couple seconds. “Yeah. It’s been like that all day… is it day? I don’t know anymore.” 
“Oh boy. Well don’t worry. As soon as Riley gets back I’m going to talk with Carl again to find a solution.” 
“I wouldn’t trust him if I were you Sophie.” Wooly says seriously. Believe me I don’t. 
“Why not?” Sophie asks. Is there something he did like… specifically?
“He worked for Hameln… and while he may have been nice he also… seemed desperate. Like he’d do anything to survive. He’d sacrifice anyone. I don’t think he’d lie or give you false information. If he says he wants to help… he probably isn’t lying… but the moment it comes at the danger of his life… he’s going to do anything to live. I know it.” Wooly says, curling himself in a cozy little ball. He looks… comfortable. Usually he doesn’t when talking about this stuff. Sophie realizes. 
“How do you know that?” 
“Well I mean, I saw it first hand… but also… I used to be like that…” 
“Really… you don’t seem the type Wooly.” 
“What can I say? I’m selfish I guess.” he shrugs. 
“You weren’t selfish Wooly, you were just in an awful position that no child should ever be placed in-” “I don’t want to hear it, Sophie.” Wooly sulks, pulling himself in tighter. There it is… he’s closing himself off again.
“Well alright… did you sleep well?” “Surprisingly, yes.” Wooly says, “I mean… I think. The clock is also not working.” he points out, the clock numbers are flipping all over the place. 
“I see… so… why are you just hanging around in your room?” 
“I can’t decide if it’s morning or not yet… like should I go back to sleep or wake up? I’m not exactly sure… hmmm…” 
“What about Amanda?”
“Oh she’s definitely sleeping. Or at least… she hasn’t left her room yet and um… I don’t know, she’s been in a mood lately that I don’t want to get testy with you know?” 
“That makes sense.” 
“Anyway… that doesn’t mean you can’t make breakfast yourself right?” 
“I suppose you're right… I am getting hungry.” Wooly says. The tape glitches to the living room. “Um hmm… this wasn’t where I was trying to go…” the tape glitches again to the bathroom. “Heh heh… whoops. Usually it just goes-” the tape glitches to the card section of the store. “Amanda must be playing some sort of prank on me right now.” the tape glitches to Amanda’s room. Wooly notices immediately she’s still asleep. He quietly tiptoes out. “Okay… so it’s not Amanda… and it’s not me… what is going on?” he wonders, tapping his chin. The tape glitches to outside. It’s still raining. Wooly looks extremely annoyed. He carefully walks into the kitchen. “I… um… wow… I hate this.” Amanda glitches onto the counter.
“Wah! Cold- Oh. Hi Wooly, why are you soaking wet?” she questions.
“Just go back to bed. I’ll make us breakfast.” Wooly sighs. 
“Um… okay?” she slowly climbs off the counter, “Weird.” She walks out of the kitchen. Wooly grabs some bread out of the now lowered cabinet. 
“Look at me, I don’t need your help anymore!” Wooly giggles proudly.  
“Aw Wooly…” Sophie says sadly. 
“Wha- Don’t feel bad! I… I can find something for you to do um um!” Wooly looks around in a panic. 
“Look Wooly, if you don’t need me I can go.” Sophie teases. 
“NO!” Wooly shouts. Sophie flinches. Wooly starts breathing heavily, like he’s about to have a panic attack. Oh yeah… I forgot that both of them are one word away from a mental breakdown at all times. 
“Wooly, Wooly buddy it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Sophie says softly. How did Riley manage these two all this time? Wooly takes a deep breath and puts the toast into the toaster. He walks over to the fridge. “Now I don’t like bacon, but Amanda is obsessed with it. So I gotta make her some.”
“You can cook bacon?” Sophie asks. Wooly stops and looks down at the floor. 
“Can I cook bacon?” he asks himself. He stands there kinda paralyzed. 
“Did you tell Amanda you’d make her bacon without actually knowing how to make bacon?” Sophie asks. Wooly nods. Oh boy. Sophie thinks. 
“I should watch the toast and make sure it doesn’t burn again.” Wooly says. Again?! Amanda, why are you letting him cook?! “Oh don’t worry I was half-asleep last time.”
“Wait Wooly, do you even know how to make bacon?” Amanda asks, walking in while rubbing her eyes groggily. 
“Amandaaaa…” Wooly whimpers. 
“Ban him from the kitchen.” Sophie says. 
“EXCUSE ME?!” Wooly snaps. Amanda bursts out laughing. 
“Don’t worry Sophie, Wooly’s actually pretty good at cooking. Except he seems to be terrible at breakfast for some reason.” Amanda explains. 
“That’s because you make breakfast this whole thing. Why can’t we just eat cereal or oatmeal?” 
“Wooly, Wooly, Wooly, breakfast is one of the few pleasures I get in this world.” Amanda says in a refined and elegant tone. Suddenly the tape glitches them both outside. It’s still raining. “GRAAH! THAT’S IT!” Wooly screams, storming back inside. “I DON’T EVEN WANT BREAKFAST ANYMORE!” Amanda can hear a door slamming all the way from down stairs. Is it just me or are their mental states far worse than before? Sophie observes. 
“Um… Wow… okay…” Amanda mumbles, walking back inside. She glitches to Wooly’s doorway. “Hey um… can I come in?” 
“I guess so.” Wooly pouts. Amanda opens the door and sees Wooly sitting on the floor still completely soaking wet.
“Come on Wooly let’s dry off and eat breakfast together, alright?” 
“Fiiiiiine.” Wooly groans. The tape ends. Riley told me to be careful around the next tape since Wooly had a bit of a freakout and Riley got hurt. I haven’t seen the demons yet but I feel like I’m treading a thin wire with that. She lets out a deep sigh and pulls out the next tape. Our New Friend. She starts the video on the camera and puts the tape into the VCR, it immediately starts to play. 
“Hi again, I’m Amanda.” Amanda smiles and waves. 
“And I’m Wooly!” Wooly beams. 
“And today we have a letter from a friend at home-” “Amanda… can we not do this episode?” Wooly questions. 
“Yeah I’m getting really tired of all of this…” Amanda sighs. “Hey Sophie? Do we have to record ALL of the tapes?” 
“I guess not…” Sophie replies. 
“Then why don’t we just skip to the shopping tape and be done with it?” Amanda groans. 
“Well… okay then…” Sophie says. Well okay then… Thank god for that. She thinks. She looks for the shopping tape in the massive pile of tapes. Maybe we should get a shelf for all these. Let’s Go Shopping… this should be the one. Honestly I’m getting a bit tired of this myself. Sophie restarts the video and puts the new tape into the VCR. 
“Hi friends, it’s me, Amanda!” Amanda beams with a friendly little wave. 
“And me, Wooly!” Wooly grins. 
“And today we’re going grocery shopping!” 
“Yaaaay!” Wooly says enthusiastically. 
“That’s the spirit, Wooly!” 
“Are we going to bring up the tax fraud thing again?” Wooly asks excitedly, bouncing up and down a little.
“You’ve become such a troublemaker Wooly!” Amanda teases. 
“I- I have not!” Wooly gasps glancing at Sophie quickly. 
“Sure Wooly, let’s go shopping!” Amanda says. The tape glitches and fades out. Tax fraud thing? Wait no I kind of want to hear about that… Sophie thinks to herself. 
“First things first, we have to go back to… the butcher…” Amanda groans. 
“We don’t have to.” Wooly reminds her. 
“We’re out of meat Wooly.” 
“We don’t need it.” 
“Maybe but I still want it.” “Then I’m staying out here.” Wooly concludes, folding his arms and planting his feet on the ground firmly, turning his back to Amanda completely. Amanda looks kind of scared. 
“C’mon Wooly, you’re not really going to make me go in there alone are you?” 
“I don’t see why I should.” 
“Wooly… please?” Amanda pleads. Wooly glances at her puppy-dog eyes and…
“That doesn’t work on me anymore, you know that.” Wooly sighs.
“Bu-but!” 
“I’m not going in there. Last time you nearly broke my hand!” 
“We can take you to the doctor.” 
“How about you just don’t break my bones?!” Wooly snaps. “Forget this, I'm going to the store.” 
“What? Why!” “I. Need. Peanut. Butter.” 
“Huh?” 
“You used up all my peanut butter and now I have NOTHING for lunch!” Wooly explains throwing his hands up in the air. “Honestly, I’m kind of done with this whole Amandathon thing so I think I’m just going to get my peanut butter and go home.” 
“You’ve been moody… this whole Amandathon… over a freaking PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH?!” Amanda shouts, clearly angry. 
“Moody? Have I been moody? Sorry I didn’t mean to be-” Wooly’s eyes widen in realization, “Wait a minute no I haven’t! If anyone has been weirdly moody this whole Amandathon it’s you.” 
“What?! I have NOT!” 
“Have to!” 
“Have not!” 
“Have to!” 
“HAVE NOT!” 
“HAVE TO!” 
“SHUT UP!” Amanda screams. Wooly flinches. 
“I won’t shut up! You always do this! Every time something is going on with you, you just get really touchy and refuse to talk to anyone about it and it really pisses me off!” 
“You don’t listen anyway!” 
“How can I listen if you don’t even talk!” Wooly snaps.
“You wouldn’t understand!” 
“Why are you just assuming that when you haven’t even told me what’s wrong?” 
“You wanna know what’s wrong? YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT’S WRONG?!” 
“YEAH THAT’S WHY I’M ASKING YOU IDIOT!” Wooly screams. Amanda flinches. Wooly freezes. The tape glitches. “I… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell…” 
“You think I’m an idiot?” Amanda asks. 
“Kind of? Sometimes?” Wooly covers his mouth. “Oops-” Amanda doesn’t even look angry anymore. She mumbles something really quietly. “What was that?” he lifts his ear up. 
“I… I can’t feel it anymore either…” Amanda whimpers. Wooly freezes. 
“Oh.” Wooly responds awkwardly. “Why… did you think I wouldn’t understand that?” 
“It’s not just that.” Amanda says quietly, sitting down on the curb and burying her face in her hands. Wooly sits down beside her. “It just… hit me…” 
“What hit you? Huh?” he replies, completely confused, “You lost me.” 
“It just hit me that… we’re never getting out of here Wooly…” 
“Oh yeah… that…” 
“You knew all along didn’t you?” Amanda pouts, refusing to even look at him. 
“I… yeah…” 
“That’s exactly what you wanted isn’t it?”
“Maybe? Ye-yeah? Yeah…” Wooly finally admits. “But… I don’t exactly feel good about it… I… I wanted you to get out of here. I… I was going to do anything… for you to get out of here… but I… I guess in the end it doesn’t matter what I was willing to do, does it?” Wooly chuckles sadly. “I guess I’m an idiot too.” 
“We’re not idiots… we’re just kids… and now that’s all we’ll ever be.”
“Don’t… don’t say it like that… you’re gonna make me cry…” Amanda looks at him, clearly already crying. “Stop it. I’m not going to the butchers with you, this won’t work on me.” he tries to chuckle a little, but his voice cracks. Amanda gives him a big hug, burying her face in Wooly’s wool. “Amanda come on… stop crying, you’re getting snot in my wool.” 
“Not any more than you are.” Amanda teases but then she starts crying harder, “We’re really stuck like this… and we’re never getting out of here… we’re never getting out… we’re never…” 
“Amanda stop it… you’re breaking my heart…” Wooly whimpers.
“Join the club you silly sheep.” Amanda giggles sadly. Just then, they notice the opossum walking by sipping a smoothie giving them a very weird look. “Come on opossum, join the snot hug!” Amanda offers. The opossum looks back and forth at both of them with a mix of disgust and confusion. 
“I swear to Hameln if you join in the snot hug I will kill you.” Wooly grumbles, giving the opossum a death glare. 
“Don’t be like that Wooly.” 
“He’s ruining the moment!” 
“Forget the moment, Wooly, I’m feeling better now. Thanks for listening.” 
“Anytime Amanda, anytime.” Wooly smiles. Amanda stands up and reaches out her hand to help Wooly up. He looks down and realizes he actually is covered in snot. “Can we just get this over with so I can go home and have a bubble bath?” 
“Yeah but this time we’re getting you your own bottle of bubble bath.” Amanda replies. 
“Fine by me.” Wooly smiles. 
“Can you tell us where the store is?” Amanda asks. Sophie clicks on the store. Suddenly all the stores turn into the meatman’s place. “WHAT THIS AGAIN?!” 
“Why does this only happen when I decide we should go off-script?!” Wooly shouts. The opossum looks terrified and scampers behind Amanda and Wooly for protection. 
“Wait… this only happens to you but what about that time we sent the… Wooly you didn’t!” 
“Can we stop about about me being an absolute moron in the past and handle the situation in front of us!” Wooly snaps, clearly way more stressed out then Amanda. 
“Okay okay. If we just go into the butchers and get the meat it’ll be fine!” 
“Why does he want us to eat meat so badly?!” Wooly shouts. 
“I don’t know, I never thought about it to be honest! Let’s just go in and get this over with!” Amanda announces. But the opossum clings to her and shakes his head frantically. “Wait, why are you afraid of the butcher?” The opossum frantically starts playing charades pointing to the butchers and then making a neck cutting motion with his finger. “Wait… so let me make this clear. You watched Amanda the Adventurer right?” Amanda asks. The opossum nods. “And you got trapped in the tapes right?” he nods again. “And you’re saying that the meatman… butchers the people who get stuck in the tapes?” he nods once more.
"That's a bit of a leap in logic isn't it... wait... that means-" Wooly turns pale.
“Oh… oh my god… what the f***.” This time, neither Wooly nor Sophie calls her out for her language. “How did I not realize this before? Haha… oh my god… that means… oh my g-”
“Amanda, you don’t need to feel guilty about this… Hameln’s at fault not you.” Wooly tells her in a weak voice.
“Wooly… you don’t get it…” 
“Please stop assuming I don’t get things… just explain it.” 
“Wooly… when we eat meat we’re-” “Okay please stop explaining. I think I get the point.” Wooly says, looking completely grossed out and disturbed.
“What do we do? Wooly? Opossum? What do we do?” Amanda asks desperately, looking back and forth at both of them. Wooly stops and ponders, Amanda and the opossum do to. There is a period of silence while the tape just sits there, glitching. The music is distorted and the tape grows fuzzy.
“I think I have an idea…” Amanda says, breaking the silence. The two quickly whip their heads in her direction. “Why don’t we just kill the meatman?” There is a bit of stunned silence. 
“Kill… the meatman?” Wooly repeats. Amanda nods. “Kill the meatman? Are you crazy? We can’t kill the meatman? Can we? And what if he comes back? And what will it do to this world?” 
“What do we have to lose? It’s not like we can die! Besides you came back because you’re a main character, a fan-favorite. This world can’t exist without you just as much as me!” Amanda explains, waving her finger in Wooly’s face. The animation became so smooth all of the sudden. Sophie notices.  
“Fan… favorite?” 
“I mean, no one likes the butcher right?” Amanda laughs nervously, “Once we beat him, there will be no problems in this world. You know what? I like this plan! Do you like the plan, opossum?” Amanda asks. The opossum nods its head. “Come on what do you say Wooly? It could be fun.” 
“I don’t know…” Wooly says, the tape starts to glitch again. Hmm… maybe… Sophie thinks. 
“I think you should.” Sophie says. 
“Huh? Really?” Wooly gasps. 
“Worth a shot.” she shrugs. 
“You with me Wooly?” Amanda grins. 
“I…” Wooly pauses then a determined smile crosses his face, “Always.” the animation quality suddenly returns.
“Oh boy what a way to end the Amandathon right guys? I’m getting all excited!” Amanda beams. She turns around and realizes that Wooly’s legs are shaking like a baby fawn. The opossum also looks frozen in place. “Let’s go.” Amanda demands, taking them both by the arms and dragging them inside. They enter the butcher shop. Amanda also seems a bit weak in the knees all the sudden. “On second thought… why don’t we just tell the meatman what we need?” she says weakly. 
“Amanda…” Wooly says in the most disappointed tone of voice anyone has ever heard. 
“What kind of meat do we need from the meatman?” Amanda asks, giving Sophie a wink. Oh. Sophie types in meatman. “That’s right! We’re having meatman for dinner tonight!”
“So we really are just doing this then?” Wooly laughs nervously. “Okay then.”
The meatman, however, did not take kindly to Amanda’s threat and immediately raised his blade at them. “Um Amanda do we have a plan?” 
“Nope, not really.” Amanda shrugs. Amanda jumps up on the counter the meatman slams the blade down onto the cutting board "Just gonna take this.” Before the meatman can lift the knife again Amanda swipes it and slams it into the meatman’s head. Blood splatters everywhere. The meatman stops moving. She jumps off the counter. “Wow! That was so easy.” Amanda says clapping her hands together. "Why didn't we just do that sooner?" she laughs. She turns to Wooly and the opossum. “So why don’t we head to the store now?” The meatman takes the blade out of its head and lifts it above Amanda’s head. 
“Amanda, look out!” Wooly shouts, he quickly jumps in front of her and catches the blade in his hand. 
“Wooly you’re bleeding!” 
“I know right? I feel like this would usually really hurt huh?” Wooly laughs, the blade cuts right through his hands. Amanda pulls him back. 
“Oh my goodness are you okay? Of course you’re not okay… haha WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!” Amanda screams, shaking him.
“My hand was gonna end up broken today one way or another.” Wooly chuckles. Amanda notices the opossum climbing up the meatman and biting viciously at his head. The meatman quickly takes him and slams him against the wall. 
“What’s going on?” Riley asks, coming through the door. 
“Amanda, Wooly, and the opossum are fighting the meatman to the death.” Sophie explains.
“Why does the interesting stuff only happen when I’m gone.” Riley sighs. The meatman looms over the three of them, raising its blade over their heads. 
“I can’t look!” Wooly whimpers, turning away and closing his eyes. 
“You are not going to hurt my friends!” Amanda screams, her demonic eyes popping out. Riley turns around and notices both demons behind them. Sophie is about to scream but Riley puts their hand over her mouth. 
“It’s okay… just lend them a bit of your power… please?” Riley pleads. They turn back to the screen. Wooly starts transforming too.
“Just... give us… five minutes… okay?” Wooly says, as if he’s trying to calm them down. The tape falls out of the machine. 
“Wait no!” Sophie cries, lunging towards it and catching it in her hands. “But…” 
“I wonder if the show’s censors would react badly to all the blood?” Riley wonders. “Or maybe Amanda and Wooly don’t want us to watch them in those forms? Or something?” 
“Still… what if they lose?” 
“They won’t. It’s Amanda and Wooly we’re talking about.” Riley says. So they chose to wait. It was the longest, most awkward five minutes of their lives. (Sitting in silence with the demons). Amanda’s was sleeping with it's head on Riley's lap, in fact Riley was surprised that it let them pet it. 
“It’s like a giant cat.” Riley whispers. “When it’s not trying to kill you…” Finally they decided to put the tape back into the VCR. When they did the whole room was covered in blood and Amanda and Wooly were panting in exhaustion. I guess the whole blood censorship theory was wrong. Riley deduces. 
“You think we did it?” Wooly asks. 
“I don’t think he can get any deader than that…” 
“I can’t believe we did that…” 
“I know. You were feral, Wooly.” 
“Don’t ever say that again.” Wooly grumbles. “I guess I just had a lot of pent up rage to let out.” 
“Maybe we should buy a punching bag then…” 
“Maybe…” 
“We should probably go home and get cleaned up before we finish shopping huh?” 
“Yeah… I feel like if I see any more blood today I’m gonna faint.” 
“Wooly I think that’s from the blood loss… hmm… I guess we should get you stitched up huh?” as Amanda says this, Sophie notices the pair are in rough shape… but the tape stopped glitching for some reason. “You too opossum. Thanks for your help today.” Amanda adds. The tape pans in the opossum laying in the corner like he’s playing dead, giving Amanda a weak thumbs up. 
“I don’t wanna go to the hospital…” Wooly groans. Amanda rolls her eyes. The tape changes to their bathroom. Wooly and the opossum are sitting in the tub while Amanda is sorting through the first aid kit. The tape changes again and Amanda is now in a different outfit, tossing her bloodied clothes into the hamper. The world seems brighter and the animation is much smoother than it’s ever been. The tape changes again to Amanda wrapping Wooly’s hand up in bandages while Wooly sits on the toilet with the cover down. 
“I don’t know what possessed you to catch that knife with your bare hands, but don’t do anything that stupid again you scared the s*** out of me!” 
“But it was cool right?” Wooly asks, sounding almost drunk. 
“Sure… it was cool Wooly. Just don’t do it again.” 
“Don’t go being about to get chopped in half again and I won’t.” he replies, swaying a little. 
“I don’t plan on it.” Amanda sighs. She helps Wooly off the toilet. “Are you okay to stand?” 
“I’m fiiiiine!” he laughs before immediately slipping in water and falling on his face. He then just lay there laughing for a bit.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with him honestly.” Amanda says, looking directly at the screen. She helps Wooly up. “Maybe we should just skip shopping?” she suggests. 
“Noooo… I’m fine!” Wooly pouts. He does not look fine. Riley walks up and smacks the TV. Wooly shakes his head really hard and blinks a couple times. “What was I doing again?” 
“Wooly, are you feeling okay?” 
“Yeah I’m fine. Why?” Wooly answers, sounding completely normal now. 
“How did that work?”
“So are we going shopping or…”  “I am so confused… but uh… yeah shopping!” the tape changes to outside again with all the stores lined up. The butcher’s is noticeably missing. “Can you tell me where the store is?” Amanda asks. Riley clicks on it. “That’s right!” they enter the store. “Okay so on our list we need peaches, apples, bread-” “Peanut butter.” 
“Yes Wooly, peanut butter. Bubble bath…” “What about two-in-one peanut butter and bubble bath?” Riley jokes. 
“What?” Amanda looks at them with complete confusion. 
“No.” Wooly says in a deadpan tone. 
“It’s hysterical.” Riley laughs, elbowing Amanda’s unamused demon. 
“You have guts I’ll give you that.” Sophie sighs. 
“Can you get us all the items on our list?” Amanda asks. Sophie pushes Riley out of the way and clicks on everything. Peaches, apples, bread, peanut butter, bubble bath.
“We also should get some more peach jam while we’re here.” 
“You and your peach jam.” Amanda rolls her eyes. Sophie clicks on the peach jam. 
“Do we need anything else today?” 
“Not from here.” Amanda shrugs, pulling out her list. “We need eggs from the farm for breakfast… you still eat eggs right Wooly?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Cool. So eggs… hmm… maybe we can get some bacon from the farmer…” 
“Have you learned NOTHING?” Wooly snaps. 
“Guess not huh? So… no more meat from now on… guess that’s fine… then I think eggs are the last thing on our list for the day.” 
“The last thing on the list for my day is a glass of warm milk and SLEEP.” Wooly groans leaning over backwards dramatically. 
“Milk! I almost forgot. I think we can get some at the farm too, right?” Amanda asks.
“I don’t caaaare let’s just get this over with.” 
“Why are you so bored all of the sudden?” Amanda’s eyes widen in realization. “Wait… is this because we got your peanut butter? Now you have no interest in this trip?” Wooly looks away and doesn’t answer. Amanda looks at him with annoyance. She grabs his arm and drags him to the farm. 
“Let’s tell the Scarecrow what we need!” Amanda announces. The tape pans to the motionless smiling scarecrow farmer once again. Wait… how did the farmer shear Wooly anyway? Sophie wonders then decides it’s best not to overthink a kids show, regardless of its origins. Riley types in wool.
“We already have plenty of that from the last episode.” Wooly pouts. “I’m only back to normal since you're rewatching old episodes!” I don’t get how that works but okay. Sophie thinks. 
“What are you even talking about? What happened?” Riley asks.
“Wooly got sheared.” Amanda answers. 
“Oh ho ho! I need to hear more about this.” 
“Quit teasing them!” Sophie scolds.
“No you don’t! Just answer the dang question!” Wooly shouts, seeming kind of bashful about the whole thing. Riley rolls their eyes and types in eggs. The scarecrow no-clips off screen and then just appears back in with eggs. Amanda grins, wildly amused by this. 
“I much prefer the Scarecrow to the butcher.” she giggles. “What else do we need?” Riley types in milk. “We need regular milk and kitten milk please.” Amanda says. Suddenly the Scarecrow starts making noise like one of the adults in the Peanuts holiday specials. “No you cannot have your cat back. She’s mine and I love her. Though…” she glares at the tv, “none of you have given me name ideas for her yet!” 
“How did you understand that?” Wooly asks, thoroughly confused. The Scarecrow sheds a tear and disappears once again, returning with some milk and kitten milk. 
“Can we get some more cat food too please?” Amanda asks. The Scarecrow disappears and reappears again. “Thank you! Have a great day!” the tape changes back to home. Where Amanda realizes the opossum is trying to eat the kitten. She separates them immediately. 
“Bad opossum bad! This kitten is not food!” Amanda scolds holding the opossum at arms length in one arm and the kitten close to her chest in the other. The opossum hisses at her and she gives him a death glare. He shuts up. She drops him on the floor and he scampers behind Wooly. 
“I don’t know what you're expecting from me. I still want you dead.” Wooly admits in the most flat, emotionless voice ever. The opossum slowly backs away. 
“My poor baby? Did he hurt you? Oh he must’ve frightened you so much! He’s a bad bad bad opossum! Don’t worry! I will never ever ever let that terrible creature anywhere or any other dangers bring harm to a hair on your little head you understand me? You are mama’s little girl. Yes you are. Yes you are. My precious little baby.” Amanda says in a babyish voice, coddling the cat to bits with kisses and snuggles. 
“She didn’t react that way when the opossum attacked me earlier.” Wooly scoffed. The kitten hisses and scratches Amanda’s face before kicking away and jumping to the floor. She isn’t even phased. She doesn’t even look mad. She turns to Wooly and smirks. 
“Oh Wooly… are you jealous?” Amanda asks. 
“Not… particularly.” 
“Oh poor Wooly! Feeling all left out cause Amanda isn’t paying attention to him.” Amanda continues the baby voice routine. “Okay stop that.” 
“Don’t worry Wooly, I can protect you too! You’re my very precious special best friend after all.” 
“This is weird. You know this is weird.” Wooly says, looking incredibly disturbed. Amanda gives him a big hug. “Get off me. I’m not your cat.” “Of course not! You’re my favorite sheep!” 
“That’s it.” Wooly grumbles shoving Amanda off him. She immediately bursts out laughing. 
“Oh my gosh teasing you is the best Wooly!” 
“Yeah whatever… I’m gonna go… do something.” 
“Yeah like what?” 
“I don’t know… I don’t care… all I know is that bedtime can’t come soon enough…” Wooly groans, going to walk off. 
“You know, you’ve been a really great friend lately, Wooly…”
“Where is this coming from?” Wooly asks, completely caught off guard. 
“I was struggling and feeling really bad and you were there for me this time.” 
“Yeah?” 
“So thank you Wooly.” 
“You’re… welcome? I guess?” Wooly replies, sounding completely confused. Amanda smiles at him. 
“Before you go, wanna… close out the Amandathon with me?” 
“Sure…” 
“Well everyone that’s it for the Amandathon! Thanks for tuning in! Catch your pal Amanda…” “And you’re best friend Wooly next time on Hameln Jr!” 
“Oh man. That was nostalgic.”
“You can say that again.”
“Oh man. That was nostalgic.” 
“I didn’t mean that literally.” 
“I know. That should be enough material for old tapes right guys?” Amanda asks. 
“Yep.” 
“Okay then! Thanks for playing with us!” Amanda grins. 
“See you next time!” Wooly beams. The tape falls out of the VCR.
Authors Note: Okay so from now on these tapes are gonna have very little continuity. I might keep the fantape lore in some of them because it's so fun but yeah... I have no idea how the Amanda series is gonna end and thus have no idea how to end this fic series. So from now on it's going to be the silly adventures of Amanda and Wooly! This will probably be the longest fic of the series, so I hope you enjoy. PLEASE LET ME KNOW THINGS YOU NOTICED AND YOUR FAV PARTS IN THE COMMENTS! THANKS TO ALL WHO ENJOYED THIS SERIES THUS FAR. I'll still prolly write some fics here and there... just... for funsies. Ya know?
BTW WHAT ARE WE NAMING THE CAT I STILL HAVEN'T GOTTEN SUGGESTIONS!
Anywho have a nice day and a lovely holidays if you celebrate any!
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moe-broey ¡ 7 months ago
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You would not believe how badly history is repeating itself.
#at least i had half a mind to not continue the piece angry. but man. it is deeply upsetting.#a part of me really wants to catch up on feh too but like. i have 'if you're sick enough to stay home#you're too sick to play video games' syndrome. i wasn't even raised like that i do this to myself.#NO fun allowed. accomplish your task or flog yourself over it 10000 times.#whenever i wanna ref heikala's work i should take that as a Sign. that it's so over for me.#i had a coffee but i don't even know what to do now. i'm just going to seethe over it. forever.#like i cannot emphasize how badly i feel like i'm Not Allowed to do anything else.#i feel like there's no way i'm gonna make it. like. i've gotten a p good sense of how much time goes into a piece actually#esp from this experience. not something i've EVER done before. but i do sort of have a measure on it now#and can conceptualize a rough estimate. for like each phase of the piece.#if it were a simplier piece MAYBE. i'd make it. but there are a lot of factors here that are adding to time/effort needed#like i've gotten really good at coloring. but this one requires something slightly different. a new technique essentially#something i think i'd have to practice at least a few dif times to really feel confident in using on a Piece#and in all of this i have to do it x2. i thought i was cheating the way i did it but i think i just made more work for myself.#it's just.... SO deeply upsetting........ bc it's not even a responsibility. this is something that is so significant to me personally.#idk i think you should all throw tomatoes at me and boo me off stage. never let me do this again.
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floral-hex ¡ 8 months ago
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me… sad boy
#I was going to whine a lot but why lot word when few word do trick?#I have been… soooooo anxious and depressed and I feel like I’m going to die soon & the world is ending the world is empty & I’m alone in it#I feel so sick#I need to get out and do something. I always need to get out and I never do and I’m dumb#so maybe I’ll just get messed up and stay in my room#I can’t sleep. I wake up tired and hurting. I can’t do anything.#woe is fucking me amirite?#also I just finished Black Sails and I cried a lot. why did I think getting emotionally attached to a show and finishing it was smart?#that’s not important. I mean it is but not really. what’s important is I constantly feel like the end is always looming over me#I miss my therapist but I’m scared to ever see him again.#same reason I’m scared to be around anyone outside of my immediate family: I’m a failure & I can’t bear to see that reflected in their eyes#so he joins a long list of people I can’t talk to anyone along with my dad and countless old friends#hey wait why did I segue to this?#boo hoo#analytically. logically. I can look past this and see how irrational these thoughts are#but goddamn if there’s not something chemical that just makes me feel sick and scared and I’m having a doozy of a time living with it#because Ian you need to work on long term goals. not just quick fixes like I dunno fucking eating pizza or playing video games#sorry. just wanted to vent. it’s been building up in me for days and I needed a quick whine#I shaved. I’m gonna get a haircut maybe tomorrow. if only to stave off my unhealthy feelings of ‘just shave your head at 3am’#my mom is finally reaching the point where she doesn’t need me to chauffeur her around all the time#and my brothers are finishing their semesters at school and also both have licenses now#so I think I can stop using those as excuses and try to… I dunno. live for myself now. that sounds cheesy.#gonna go get a low paying job doing something mindless so I can have extra cash for being alive#god I need a hug so bad#that’s not even… like… not even a lighthearted joke. I think if someone sincerely held me for a few minutes it would fix me. a little bit.#this is too much information#sorry I love you goodbye forever#but hey… really… I love ya… I mean maybe. not really. kind of. I appreciate ya and I’m here for ya… in spirit. like a ghost. a cool ghost.#you can ignore this#text
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pineconnie ¡ 8 months ago
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Fave martin blackwood things:
- lied about a MASTERS in PARAPSYCHOLOGY in his cv. why did he choose such a niche study like how many jobs could that even get you (EDIT I now know what a CV is and that he’s not telling every job he has a masters sorry guys I’m very jobless 🙏)
- writes the most terrible poetry you’ve ever heard (said with love) and plays background music while recording it onto a tape recorder for the vibes
- when encountering a terrifying worm lady that tries to add you to her flesh hive, he MAKES SURE to keep some of her worms just so he can stick it in his bosses face
-the rudest guy in the world (said boss) does one nice thing for him that he didn’t expect and he immediately falls in love (this is real to me ok let me have this)
-wears video game shirts to work
-goes on rants about spiders importance to the ecosystem to a guy with the worst arachnophobia ever
-hides CO2 cans so that ‘the worms don’t find it’
-forces his boss to go on lunch dates with him so he doesn’t completely lose it to paranoia
-walked into his bosses office, found a DEAD BODY THAT WAS DEFINITELY MURDERED, and all he says is “oh jon 😕😕”
-has practically the same reaction later on when someone tells him his boss compelled them to relive their worst trauma
-gets told the guy he’s been in love with for multiple years treats him horribly and goes “yeah and”
-outsmarted an avatar of the lonely despite being in a horrible depressive episode with no contact to anyone else
-manages to make peter fully believe he’s dedicated to the lonely even as his crush of many many years is practically confessing his love at every interaction
s5 martin is my favourite id need a whole extra post for him loml
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countess-of-edessa ¡ 11 months ago
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#I only have two friends so i really cannot afford to be as annoyed at this one as i am#especially considering the weirdness with my (former) neighbor. like. things should be simple with my former roommate then#but man#GIRL I HATE YOUR HUSBAND#I HATE HIM#HE GOT A [REDACTED] ON THE [REDACTED ADMISSIONS TEST] BECAUSE HE#DID NOT STUDY EVEN THO YOU BEGGED HIM TO FOR THE WHOLE SUMMER AND NOW YOURE PLANNING ON TAKING OUT THREE YEARS OF#STUDENT LOANS FOR HIM TO GO TO SCHOOL FOR WHAT REASON WHEN HE HAS NEVER DEMONSTRATED#HE IS CAPABLE OF SUCCEEDING IN SCHOOL TO THE DEGREE THAT MAKES THAT WORTHWHILE#ITS LITERALLY DEFINITELY NO DOUBT ABOUT IT BECAUSE HE SAW YOU DOING THIS AND THOUGHT HE COULD DO IT TOO#BECAUSE HE THINKS HE IS SMARTER THAN YOU. HE THINKS IF SHE CAN DO IT IT MUST BE EASY. BECAUSE HE THINKS HE IS THE SMARTEST#PERSON IN THE WORLD EVEN THOUGH ALL HE DOES APPARENTLY IS PLAY VIDEO GAMES#AND SLEEP UNTIL ONE PM. HERES AN IDEA IF HIS JOB IS ONLY FOUR DAYS A WEEK AND YOU GUYS ARE SO SO POOR#HOW ABOUT HE GETS A WALMART JOB OR SOMETHING??? We'd Never See Each Other WELL HE SLEEPS UNTIL ONE PM SO WHEN DO YOU SEE HIM NOW#ALSO OF COURSE YOUR FAMILY HATES HIM. HE IS VERY BAD TO BE AROUND.#AND EVEN IF HE WASNT CHARMLESS THE FACT THAT HE GAVE YOU AN EXTENDED MONTHS LONG MENTAL BREAKDOWN AFTER BREAKING UP WITH YOU MEANS THAT#YOUR FAMILY WILL NEVER TRULY LIKE HIM. AND THATS FINE. THEYRE CIVIL AND GET ALONG. BUT STOP TRYING TO FORCE YOUR DAD TO HAVE A ONE ON ONE#RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM WHY ARE YOU SO INTERESTED IN GETTING THEM TO TALK WITHOUT BEING INVOLVED??? ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU TALKED TO YOUR OWN#FATHER WITHOUT HIM BEING INVOLVED ONCE AND HE SAID DONT EVER DO THAT AGAIN WHICH WHAT THE FUCK BY THE WAY#also you don't have to go to your in laws wedding and they weren't obligated to think of your exams when picking the date#also if you're so poor stop buying Starbucks every time i see you and especially stop buying food#there's stuff you complain about not being able to afford which would literally be like five Starbucks visits if that#you were annoying about money when we lived together and you are annoying about it now if your husband isn't hanging out with us I don't#want to fucking buy him dinner too#while you complain there isn't any organic garlic powder at the store and toss whole bottles of lotion because they have unclean ingredient#you seem not to grasp that you and he are in an insanely horrible financial situation like crazy awful bad and when your student loans kick#in next year it's going to become obvious.#and you want a baby in two years??? you need to start thinking about how not to let it end up in indentured servitude#because again you are about to take out big time student loans for your husband's latest in a long string of dreams and they're bigger#because he didn't do well in school or prove himself capable in any way so he is unlikely to receive a scholarship
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