#my game says 26 hours

[satanssquidgy]

In my balls gay pee era

[thisfairytalegonebad]

hmm. i really should have less screen time i think

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 1- Jello at Your Front Door

Summary: 15 years ago, a football and a boy four doors down makes your move to Florida a little more bearable. Now, you're not quite sure how to feel when you find out he's shown up back at home unannounced

Word Count: 5.5K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, Frankie has a nickname for reader)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, meeting Frankie for the first time, cute, awkward baby Frankie, a football throw Santi will never forgive you for

A/N: ... Hey.... How y'all doin'.... Remember when I said I was gonna start a different Frankie series months ago? I hope you humbly accept this as my official formal apology for not being able to get my shit together, as I present this offering to you instead 🙂 I started writing this 24 hours ago and I legitimately couldn't stop, so here we are??? I know this is a different style that what I normally write, but here's to trying new things (and hopefully finishing them). I hope you guys enjoy 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Next Chapter

You, Present

“Frankie’s home.” 

You weren’t really sure how to comprehend how the combination of those two words would be one of the worst sucker punches you’d taken to your gut in the better part of the last decade. 

As the sentence replayed over and over in your head, you could think of any other combination of two words that would have scared you less. 

“Hurricane’s coming.” 

“Bomb’s dropping.” 

“World‘s ending.” 

In a universe where things make sense, the response these would elicit from the average person would be reasonable, rational even. When you’ve been given a warning about the way two words have the potential to alter your reality, you can’t help but panic. 

But today, you’ve woken up in a universe where things don’t make sense. 

And what’s worse is, you didn’t even get a warning. 

The statement shouldn’t have shaken you as much as it did. When you’d seen his truck parked in the driveway four houses down, you knew it had to be him. Anyone else in the world would be caught dead driving the barley mobile piece of metal he’d been traveling in for the better part of 20 years. But Frankie Morales was not anyone else. He’d drive that damn car until the wheels fell out underneath him. 

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gotten in a stubborn stare down with his 1989 maroon Chevrolet Silverado. You had a sneaking suspicion that today wouldn’t be your last. 

“Why is Fr- Why is he back?” 

You hadn’t intended for your tone to be so bitter, but the taste of Frankie’s name on the tip of your tongue left a taste in your mouth so sour, you wanted to recoil into yourself. 

“Why do you think?” It was clear your mother had no interest in playing into your game of cruel intentions, barely paying you any mind as she glanced out the window, unphased by the looming presence in the Morales’s driveway, “You should go say hello.” 

“No thanks, I’m not a fan of purposely ruining the rest of my day.” You don’t mean for your eyes to roll as far back into your head as they do, but you can’t help it. At this point it seems like an innate, programmed response. Simply the thought of Frankie Morales was enough to dampen your mood; an intentional confrontation was the last thing you needed. 

“You’re going to have to see him at some point, you know. Can’t hide from him the whole time he’s here.” 

Your mom hadn’t even given you the chance to rebuttal, disappearing from your bedroom to leave you to stew in your own resentment, because she knew as well as you that it was pointless to fight back. 

At some point, you’d have to face Frankie. Today, you’d stick to hiding. 

You, Summer of 1999, Age 11

26 total hours trapped in a U-Haul with your family and every item you’d ever owned was not the way you had planned to spend your last week of summer before starting middle school. You’d hoped that the nearly 3 day journey from Michigan to Florida would be long enough to help you cope with your distress. Unfortunately, you weren’t shocked that cramped quarters and unclear driving directions in the midst of uprooting your life wasn't doing much to lighten your mood. 

Your parents had promised you the move would be worth it. That starting a new life halfway across the country would be good for your family. You weren’t quite sure what positives Florida posed to you, but even at the ripe age of 11, it didn’t take a genius to realize that “starting over somewhere new” was code for “trying to keep your dad alive.” 

The doctors back home were thrilled to tell you about the new, potentially life saving treatment for his rapidly progressing colon cancer. You were thrilled too, until that new, life saving treatment meant moving 1,300 miles from home. 

Not once did you protest- keeping your dad a living, breathing part of your life was better than having to say goodbye to your best friends, but it still didn’t mean every mile you drove further and further south down I-75 was another grain of salt in your freshly open wound. 

Your parents had tried to incentivise you with all the joys that Florida would have to bring- warm, sunny weather, beaches, being a 3 hour drive away from Disney world, a bigger house, the list went on and on. And while you knew one day you’d find joy in the rewards you’d reap from your sacrifice, you had a feeling that day wouldn’t be coming any time soon. 

It took too many movers to count to finally get your new house to resemble what was supposed to be a home. There was something so unsettling about seeing your furniture reassembled into unfamiliar corners of a place you’d never been. Even the things that were supposed to feel familiar and comforting now felt distant and foreign, scrambled in the walls of your new residence like a child who had shaken up a box of their favorite toys and dumped them out on the ground, leaving behind a mess for someone else to clean up. 

The only solace you could seem to find in the wave of chaos that had washed over your life was the view outside your bedroom window. A quiet escape, perfectly positioned to watch the warm rays of sunset fade behind the rooftops, the night slowly shifting into shades of black and blue as your eyelids became heavy.

Each night as you drifted to sleep, you dreamt about the ways you could be saved from the lonely island you were trapped on. A sole survivor begging to be found. You tossed and turned in the sea of your twisted bedsheets, crying out that there would be someone, anyone who would risk their life to rescue yours. 

On the first two nights, the only response to your pleas was a deafening silence, an insult to injury that you were destined to spend the rest of your life on a godforsaken landmass no one would ever find. On the third night, your cries carried on the winds of the warm summer air, sneaking through the cracks of an open window four doors down. 

“You should go out there and play with those boys down the road! They look like they’re probably about your age!” 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed the two gangly figures racing up and down the street for the better part of the last hour, hoping they wouldn’t catch your passing glances through your living room window as you pretended to watch whatever episode of “Rocket Power” aired next on Nickelodeon. Perhaps the pair boys hadn’t noticed you watching them, but your dad had surely noticed the way you could have cared less about whatever was on the TV in front of you. 

“They’re playing football, I don’t really think they’d probably want me to play.” You huff under  your breath. 

“You’re good at football. Probably better than they are.” Your dad laughs like it’s meant to be funny, but you know he’s serious. He’ll never admit to you out loud he wished his only child would have been a boy, but you’ve never minded playing the role of the son he never had. 

And he’s not wrong. You definitely are a better throw than either of them. 

“They’re gonna think it’s weird that a girl’s asking to go play football with them.” The sigh that follows this is even more annoyed than the last, now too self aware at 11 years old to revert back to the days of approaching kids you’ve never met on the playground and asking to join in without needing to worry about the social repercussions of your actions. 

“Well, you can either pout and pretend to watch TV, or you could go try to make some friends. That’s up to you, Bud.” He smirks at the scrunch in your brow and flair in your nostrils, the same face he knows he makes when he’s been hit by the cold, hard truth he doesn’t like. 

You know he’s right. 

“Fine,” You grumble, reluctantly pushing yourself off the edge of the couch, “But if they’re dumb, I’m coming back home.” 

“Atta girl. Go easy on ‘em, Killer.” 

As you step outside, it feels like you’ve become some sort of jungle explorer, trying to approach a herd of wild animals in their element without startling them to the point of attack. You’d even brought a peace offering to ease the introductions, hoping that your own football would be an appreciated contribution to their game. 

As you make your way down the street, you’re not sure if you’re particularly good at sneaking up on the boys, they haven’t noticed your presence, or worse, they’re actively trying to ignore you in hopes that you’ll go away. 

“H-Hi.” You stammer, half attempting to wave at the back of their heads, nowhere near close to catching their attention. 

“Hello?” This time it’s a little louder, slowly taking a few steps closer, “Hi?” 

God, maybe it’s a fourth option you hadn’t considered and they’re both deaf. 

“Hey!” 

This one finally catches their attention, causing both boys to turn around cautiously, not sure whether they’re more shocked that someone’s interrupted whatever play they’re about to run, or that the person who’s interrupted them is you. 

All of three of you stand in silence for a moment, mind racing in curiosity as you take in the image of clumsy limbs and messy mats of hair stuck to sweaty foreheads. The one boy is shorter, thick, jet black curls sprouting from the top of his head and arms crossed over his chest with a scowl on his face that’s not quite mean, but most definitely not welcoming. 

The other, taller and lankier, a mop of dark brown hairs twisting at the nape of his neck, eyes soft as he glances back and forth between you and his friend. His demeanor is much different, almost nervous compared to the boy standing next to him, fits balled in the pockets of his shorts while the adam’s apple he still needs to grow into bobs in his throat. 

For as much as no one wants to draw in the silent standoff you’ve entered, you started this mess, so you might as well be the first one to fold. 

“H-hi. Sorry, I um, I didn’t wanna interrupt-” 

“I mean, you did.” The shorter boy mumbles, wincing as the nervous one slaps him in the chest with the back of his hand. “Jesus, what was that for, asswad?!” 

“Let her talk!” He grunts, sneering at his friend before turning back to you, his face much kinder now than the expression he just gave to his friend. “Sorry. You can um, you can keep talking if you want. Sorry about him.” 

You try not to laugh at the exchange, but it’s hard not to smirk at the way the two have managed to put themselves on display in the thirty seconds you’ve spent talking to them. 

“It’s okay. I um- I just moved in down the street. That green house over there.” All of your eyes shift as you point behind you, signaling where your journey had begun a few moments ago, “I was uh- I was wondering if you guys wanted another person to play with? I- I brought my own football.” 

“Normally you only need one football to play football, duh. Do you even know how football works?” 

In an instant, your heart sinks to your gut, eyes dropping to the ground to watch your feet start to drag across the pavement, back to where you came. But before you can lift the sole of your sneaker from the cement, a voice stops you. 

“She obviously does or she wouldn’t ask, numbnuts! C’mon, Santi, don’t be a dick.” 

Although it’s not directed at you, it’s enough to bring your attention back to the kinder boy, no name yet, but quite positive it’s not also Santi (or asswad). The two of you lock eyes for a moment, a strange sort of calm running through you as his slight half smile reveals his brace covered teeth, looking at you in a way that makes you feel just a little less small. 

“Yeah, you can play with us. I’m Frankie, by the way.” 

Frankie. 

There’s something about his name that fits him so perfectly. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you know from the way it rolls off your tongue that it just feels right. 

“Hi, Frankie. I’m Mackenzie.” 

Frankie’s hands are now out of his pockets, a line of defense dismantled after hearing your name. 

“Hello? Have we forgotten about me? There are three of us here, remember?” 

“This is Santi. Well, Santiago, but we all call him Santi.” The way Frankie rolls his eyes at his friend tells you everything you need to know about their friendship, giggling at the way he dramatically pouts as he introduces him. 

“Mackenzie? Isn’t that, like, a last name?” Santi asks, still not yet warmed up to the idea of you, but intrigued enough to ease how tightly his arms are crossed. 

“And? Isn’t Santiago the capital of Chile?” You sass, your mater-of-factness and quick wit making Frankie unintentionally snort. 

“Alright, touché, Christopher Columbus.” Santi mocks, acting tough to try and hide the pink blooming in his cheeks. 

“I like Mackenzie. I think it’s cool.” 

There’s something about the way he says it that you know he means it, wondering why the way hearing your name fall from his lips churns your stomach in a sensation you’d never felt before this moment. 

“Yeah, well, just so you know, Frankie is short for Francisco.” Santi interrupts, trying to find a way to get a jab back at either you or Frankie, at this point he doesn't really care which. 

“Well, last time I checked, there wasn’t a Francisco, Chile.” 

That one sends Frankie into full blown hysterics, boyish snickers taunting his friend, whose attempt to save his namesake has left him the butt of the joke. 

“Will the two of you clowns just shut up and throw the ball? If you’re gonna let her play, Frank, can we at least make sure she can throw?” Santi whines, using every ounce of prepubescent strength he has left to play into his unbothered facade. 

“You can use your ball if you want.” Frankie suggests, shrugging at his indifference to the ball held in your hand compared to the one held in yours. 

“No! If she’s playin’, she’s usin’ our ball!” Santi’s voice trails further away with each step back he takes, settling himself in the middle of the street a few feet down from where you and Frankie stood, not willing to take any more risks when it comes to you, even if it’s something as stupid as a football. 

“Fine by me.” You shrug, happily obliging to his request, Frankie giving you a silent nod of reassurance as he passes his football off to you. 

It’s only now you notice he’s nervous again, one hand back in his pocket as he wriggles his toes in the ends of his worn sneakers while you size up your toss, knowing he’s worried that Santi will never let him live it down if the ball can’t make it more than three feet in front of you. 

Neither of you would know it then, but the silent exchange you make with Frankie as you line up your throw would be the first of many unspoken promises you’d keep to him. What seemed like a simple task,  to prove worthy of his friendship by throwing a football, would turn out to be the most important promise you'll ever make to Fransisco Morales. 

You weren’t ever going to let him down. 

“You can go further back.” You shout, almost offended by the distance Santi had chosen to stand away from you. 

“If you can make it this far, I’ll be impressed.” 

“You promise you’ll go get it after I throw it past you?” 

“I promise, Joe Montana, throw the damn ball.” 

You shrug at Frankie, like he’s supposed to know what comes next. He’s too scared to question either of you, all he can do is let his eyes dart back and forth between you and Santi, knowing there’s no world where both of you can prove your point. What scares him more is that he trusts you more than his friend. 

You line your fingers up on the laces, gripping the leather like your life depends on it. In a way, it does. With a step forward, your arm hurls the ball, two of the three of you standing dumbfounded in the street as you watch it soar further and further past its intended target, spirling through the sky until it bounces off the cement with an acrobatic roll, three times the distances of where Santi had placed himself. 

You don’t say anything. You don’t need to. You just smile and shrug- it's the best “I told you so” you could give them. 

“Fine. She can stay.” 

To this day, it’s the closest you’ll ever get to a compliment from Santi. 

“Nice work, Kenz.” 

Your stomach flips. You try to blame it on the adrenaline of it all, that there was no way a compliment so simple had you wiping your sweaty palms over the denim of your shorts, trying your best to erase any evidence that he was the reason your heart was racing out of your chest. 

Now it’s 15 years later, and as much as you hate him, you still can’t get that goofy, brace faced smile out of your mind. 

Frankie, Present 

There’s a reason he shows up at 1 A.M. Everyone’s asleep. If the world is asleep around him, he’s safe from having to deal with anyone, at least until morning. There’s a part of him that wishes he would have parked his truck down the street, tricking you into thinking that he wasn’t even there. 

It’s hard to justify when you’re the reason he’s back home in the first place. 

When he got the call from his mom, he knew he had to come. He didn't want to, but he knew he’d hate himself forever if he didn’t. 

“Hey, Mamá.” 

“Francisco, how quickly can you make it home?”  

“Mom, I told you, I’m not-” 

“It’s Doug. He’s in hospice.” 

“Fuck. How um- how much longer do they think he has?” 

“When I talked to Michelle, she said they were hoping for a few more weeks. But I’m not sure. He doesn’t look good, mi amor. If you want to say your goodbyes, now’s the time.” 

“O-okay. I can probably be home by tomorrow. Gonna be late though. Is uh- is she, um-” 

“She’s here. For about a week or so already. She keeps looking over at your empty spot in the driveway just like she did all those years you were away. Waiting for you, Francisco.” 

It’s the lump in his throat and ache in his chest that gets him home an hour and fifteen minutes faster than what his GPS said it would. He’s not sure what delusional part of his mind thinks that maybe you’ll be waiting for him when he pulls into the driveway. Maybe it’s the same delusional part of his mind that pictured you sitting there, cross legged on the concrete, staring up at the sky to count stars like sheep, waiting for him to come home all those years ago. 

He’s also not sure why it hurts so bad when he shows up and you’re not there. 

Frankie feels like he’s 16 again, sneaking into his own house in the wee hours of the night, digging the spare key out from under the doormat, attentive to the practiced pattern of how to avoid squeaks in the hinges as he turns the lock behind him, careful not to wake a single sleeping soul. He tiptoes over the 4th stair to the second floor and barely taps the 7th before he finds shelter in his room, successful from his journey. 

Every time he comes home, he can’t help but laugh at the fact his mother refuses to change anything about his bedroom. Everything is in the same place it was the day he left for the Air Force, down to the pile of unfinished homework from his Senior year of high school stacked on his desk. Each time he sees it, he’s never sure if the source of his laughter is nostalgia or irony. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 

When he looks at the picture frames scattered across his nightstand, a 17 year old Frankie stares back at him, tall and gangly, arms too big for his own body, an awful haircut he begged his mom to let him get. It was the year he discovered how much he couldn’t live without a hat, simply out of necessity for the 6 months it took for his hair to grow back out. You were the first one to tell him how cute he looked in the one hat he already owned. He bought three more in the weeks to come. 

He wonders what the 17 year old in those pictures staring back at him would think of him now. If there’s one thing he knows for certain, it’s that high school him would have beat the shit out of him for the way things turned out, scrawny limbs and all. 

It seems like the military has taught him how to sleep anywhere besides his own home, keeping company with the shadows dancing on his ceiling in the moonlight, tossing and turning in the tattered sheets of the twin sized bed his mom promised she’d upgrade when he got big enough. To this day, he and his mom both know he was never begging her for a new bed because he had outgrown it, he just always wanted to make room for one more person. 

He clocks 3 and a half hours of sleep as good enough, creeping out of his house the same way he had come in, making the 5.4 mile trip to Benson Park to watch the sun rise. Frankie’s always hated running, it’s just as much of a surprise to him as it is to everyone else that he keeps doing it. It makes his knees hurt like shit and his lungs feel like they’re being strangled by rubber bands, a cruel cycle of self punishment he can’t seem to shake his addiction for. 

He’s sat on the same side of the bench underneath the ancient Blooming Dogwood since the first time he came here. He tried one time to sit on the other side. He’s superstitious enough to believe his one time fuck up has had a lasting effect. The bench is so hidden at the back of the park, he likes to think that the two of you are the only ones to have ever found it. No one else has ever burst through the bubble of secrets shared between the two of you there, leaving the wood grain to be stained with memories and moments that have shaped the both of you, good and bad. 

It’s the first place you ever told him about your dad. It’s the first place he ever told you about his. His dad was already nothing but memories by then. It makes him sick to his stomach that soon, that’s all you’ll have left, too. 

Frankie, Fall of 1999, Age 11

“How much longer do we have, Frankie? I feel like my legs are gonna fall off!” 

“Quit being such a baby, you’re fine!” 

“Next time we have to ride our bikes this far, I’m pulling an E.T. and riding in the front basket of your bike.” 

“Perfect, you look just like him.” 

“Frankie!” 

“Kidding, kidding!” 

Frankie’s never had a friend like you before. Sure, he’s got Santi, but it’s not quite the same. 

Santi took some easing into- five years ago, when Frankie moved onto Everett Street, he became a friend by force, not choice. Santi staked his claim on him, seeing Frankie as a gift sent straight from heaven, finally having another boy his age to play with after too many years of being sentenced to dress up and tea parties from his 3 older sisters. 

Santi was everything Frankie wasn’t- loud, assertive, the kind of friend who grabs you by the hand and drags you along with them whether you liked it or not. There’s times now, after a half a decade of friendship, that Frankie still questions the way Santi’s brain is wired, but Frankie’s too good of a friend to ever make a fuss about it. 

You, on the other hand, needed no easing into. From the moment he met you, watching you toss that football so far past Santi that he was convinced it would disappear on the other end of the street, Frankie had been mesmerized by you. 

There’s something about you that makes him feel a weird thump in his chest every time you’re together. Everything about you gives him comfort in a way he can’t describe, a safety he’s felt with very few other people in his life until now. 

There’s just something about you. He still hasn’t been able to quite pinpoint what it is. 

Whatever it may be, it’s enough to invite you on a bike ride to the back of Benson Park instead of Santi. 

“Do you even know where we are? I don’t think there’s any more park left past this point, Frankie.” You huff, slowing the wheels of your bike behind him as you come to the edge of a steep rolling hill, nothing left in front of you but acres of empty land and tall grass. 

“Yeah, I do. Maybe we just passed the trail on the way in. We’ll just- We can just find it on the way back.” 

He knows you know he’s fibbing, but he wants your trust that he won’t lead you astray more than he wants to tell the truth. 

“Okay. There’s a bench underneath that tree. Can we just sit for a little bit before my legs turn to jello?” 

You’re already halfway off your bike before he can respond. Even if he had said no, there’s no way he’d leave without you. 

“Fine. What flavor jello?” 

“Whatever flavor is your least favorite so you don’t eat my legs, Francisco. That’s just weird.” 

The two of you laugh, tossing your bikes to the ground as you bottoms find the wood of the bench you’d pointed out, you on the right side, Frankie on the left. 

“My mom only ever gets the red kind. I don’t even really like it that much. Don’t worry, you’re safe, Kenz.” 

“I don’t really like it either. But we have every flavor at my house ‘cause that’s like, all my dad eats.” 

Frankie starts to laugh like you’re playing a joke on him, trying to pretend your dad’s diet exists exclusively of artificially flavored gelatin, but your sudden silence and the way your voice drops to the ground right with your eyes tells him he’d better stop snickering. 

“Your dad only eats jello?” 

“Well not only, but a lot of it, I guess.” 

His face scrunches with a mixture of confusion and concern at your sadness. He’s never heard you this quiet before. 

“Um, w-why?” 

The silence is almost deafening. He’s not sure why he should be so concerned with asking about jello, but he’s too curious to let it go. He selfishly wants to know what about it makes you so upset, because he just as selfishly hopes there’s something he can do to make you feel better. 

“My dad has cancer. He’s really sick. He can’t really eat a lot, but jello’s the one thing he can keep down most of the time without, like, throwing up or whatever.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, like you’re worried someone else will hear and spill the rest of your secrets right along with this one. You say it like he’s the only one in the world you want to hear it. 

“I’m- I’m sorry. That sucks.” 

Frankie blames it on his instincts, the way his hand finds yours, outstretched on the bench. He touches you like he’s handling a baby bird who’s fallen out of its nest, delicate and careful, calculated, hoping you won’t try to fly away in fear. Instead, your hand welcomes his, scooting closer to the weight of his palm resting on top of it. He feels you give in as you let him carry you back to safety of the tree you’ve descended from. 

“It’s okay. That’s why we moved here. The doctors in Michigan said that there were even better doctors here who could maybe help make his cancer go away.” 

“And then maybe he won’t have to eat as much jello.” He takes a gamble with the joke, but it pays off with your surprised snort, “Sorry, that was stupid. I shouldn’t be joking about it.” 

“I mean, it was, but it was funny. It’s okay, my dad jokes about it, too. He always says, one day, it’ll be funny, so might as well make that day today.” 

His heart warms as he watches a small smile return to your face. It heats the pink in his cheeks when he realizes he was the one who helped bring it back. 

“Your dad sounds nice.” 

“He is. Even though he doesn’t feel good a lot of the time, he still always tries to come to my soccer games and stuff. I know he can’t be like what he was before he was sick, but he tries to be. What about your dad?” 

Frankie prays you don’t notice the way his heart sinks like he noticed yours. He chews on the inside of his lip so hard, he thinks it may bleed. He wants to lie, but he knows that you’ll know. You always know. 

“Um, I don’t- I don’t really see my dad.” 

It’s you now who's grabbing his hand, offering him the same type of safety net he’d made for you. He’s barely known you two months. He’s known Santi for five years and all he knows is that his dad doesn’t live with him. Frankie didn’t want to tell him, he’s not sure he’d understand. There’s a strange sensation that swirls in his gut, because he wants to tell you. You’d laid the first brick in the foundation of trust between the two of you. The least he can do is help you keep building. 

“Oh. Why don’t you see him?” He sees you’re prying, but not in a way that hopes to expose him. He knows you’re prying because you want him to let you in, to get a peek at what's behind the curtain. It’s a locked door most people in his life will ever get access to, but he’ll let you have a spare set of keys. 

“I never really knew him. My mom said he left when I was a baby. She says she’s always been happy it’s just me and her. That it was easier to live with one less person than to live with someone who was mean.” 

“Your mom sounds like a wise lady.” 

He appreciates the fact humor was your first response, too, it makes the sting of ripping the stitches off a still-healing wound hurt just a little less. 

“Yeah, I guess so. Still kinda wish I had a dad, though, ya know?” 

“You can borrow my dad whenever you want. As long as you don’t mind super embarrassing, stupid jokes.” 

“Are they as bad as mine?” 

“No. They’re worse.” 

Neither of you would have minded staying just a little bit longer, but the bright reds and yellows of the setting October sky remind you both that the parents you’ve opened up about are expecting you back before night washes over the quaint suburbia of your town. The bike ride home is much quieter than the one there, but the simple silence seems to speak louder than anything he’d have to say. 

The next day, Frankie would raid the cabinets of his kitchen for every last packet of jello he could find and bring them all to your front door.

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@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[shoutydwarf]

and truly i am sorry i have very little good things to say about this game. like the rest of us here, i waited 10 years for it. i wanted it to be good. i scoffed at the bad reviews, i went into it with all my biases in favor of it. i had complete faith in bioware EVEN as someone that doesn't like inquisition and never once cared about the solas/elf plots. i cannot stress enough that i was a person completely set up to be pre-disappointed in the game, yet i was not.

i've logged 90 hours. i've completed it 1 1/2 times, i've seen all the endings and then i let all of that marinate for a week longer. the retrospection hit and it hit really fucking hard. i'm really tired of criticism of this game being shut down with "you're just a hater/tourist/grifter" especially when that's being directed at ME because yall.

i have been here, in the da community, since i was 13 years old. i am 26 now. my art would not exist without dragon age. my writing would not exist without dragon age. through this entire 10 year long drought i have contributed in NO small part to keeping this community alive. i've written 200 page google docs on dwarf culture. i completely rewrote characters like oghren and cullen. my MUSE, my magnum opus, my favorite of all favorites, is a dragon age oc (love u aeducan). my best friend and i get together at least once a month to sit in her garage for 3 days straight talking and planning out our dragon age ocs/stories/roleplays.

i have a right to be disappointed. i have a right to speak about that disappointment. i have a right to criticize the game. and odds are, the people criticizing it are just like me to some degree. if you're happy with the game GOOD FOR YOU. i wish i WAS YOU.

anyway tldr as mad as i sound in these critical posts, i'm actually just sad. and here lies the warning that this blog will continue being very critical of the game.

[trendywaifus]

2024 HALLOWEEN SPECIAL MASTERLIST

❝ WHAT’S YOUR SCARY MOVIE? ❞

WARNINGS — DARK THEMES, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, ATTEMPT OF SELF INJURY, DEATH, BLOOD, CONTROLLING BEHAVIOR, INJURY, YANDERE THEMES, DUBCON, PURITY LOSS, CREAMPIE, ORAL FIXATION, VAGINAL PENETRATION, SIZE KINK, CUM–EATING, FINGERING, CUNNILINGUS, UNPROTECTED SEX

04 |SCREAMPIED ! — transfem! ghostface! feixiao x fem! reader. there seems to be a second serial killer who has their eyes on you. but it seems like they came for you for a different reason. will they be a failure like the last one was? (10/6) continuation of — i’m like the wind baby !

preview ↳ you angrily picked up your phone for the third time in two hours, draping the towel over your shoulder as you sat down on the sofa. “ this is the third fucking time you called my damn phone, “ you shouted, pausing some cheesy horror movie that you forgot was on while taking a quick shower, “ take a hike you fuckin’ bum! don’t ask me about what my damn favorite scary movie is because i don’t have one! the last one was somehow less annoying than you are! “

there’s a small pause from the other side along with consistent, wet noises of skin slapping against skin. “ . . .fuck, “ the husky voice lets out a strained groan and laughs breathily, “ keep talking, i’m almost finished. mm, you sound so fucking hot when you’re upset, doll face.”

“ what the fuck? are you getting off from my voice, you damn weirdo? fuck off. “

05 |NATURAL PREDATOR ! — serial killer! jane doe x fem! reader. she craves you and the normalcy you bring into her life. it wouldn’t hurt to preserve it by keeping you in her home. don’t worry, she won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt her. rats aren’t natural predators after all, right? (10/26)

preview ↳ you swat the chinese food aside in frustration, jumping up from your seat, and glared at your unamused kidnapper sitting on the other side of the table. “ is this some sick game to you? chasing, kidnapping me—taking me away from my life to satisfy yours? “ you hiccuped, tears swelling in your eyes. “ and why in the actual fuck do you think it’s okay to make me sit down with you and eat some takeout food after you’ve been gone all day? what, you expect me to “gossip” with you after all the shit you’ve done to me? “

hurt flash in her teal eyes before she sighs heavily. “ do we seriously have to keep coming back to that? i understand that you’re upset but you’ll get use to this, to me soon enough. i know that i haven’t been here lately and i’m sorry. i’ll do my best to come home to you as early as i can. here, “ she says apologetically, handing you a napkin across the table with the pointed end of her tail, “ please, sit down, wipe your tears, and eat your food, my dear. unless, you prefer for me to do all of them for you? “ there’s something dark lurking behind her voice as it lowers an octave. a shiver runs down your spine at the hooded look in her narrowed eyes.

06 |ADAM & EVE ! — yandere! robin x gn! reader. all she wanted was to save her brother. even if it meant taking a bite from the forbidden fruit, stripping her away from reason, her purity—what makes her robin; an internal separation from who she used to be. ( 10/31)

preview ↳ robin straddles your lap, her darkened emerald eyes pools into yours, lulling you deeper into a trance-like state. your body feels relaxed and heavy, bones softening like malleable metal. the halovian woman lean close to you with a sickeningly sweet smile on her pale features as she brings the bitten apple to your bruised lips. there’s voices—hushed whispers ringing in your head, commanding you to take a bite of the apple. you don’t fight them back, you can’t. lust, euphoria and her hypnotic tune clouds your judgement.

you bite into the apple and sink further into the abyss, along with the shell of a woman who used to be great.

07 (BONUS?)| WUTIWANT ! — jason! transfem! acheron x fem! reader. i don’t know what i want but i know it’s not this. these words mean nothing once they’ve left my lips. (??)

preview ↳ ???

[thirstywoso]

Love me like a sailor - Jessie Fleming x reader

A/N: a little bittersweet childhood sweetheart fic, now I've re-read it I kind of hate it and let's just say there will be a lot of angst coming - you've been warned

THIS IS A RE-POST AS TUMBLR IS HAVING A MELTDOWN

WC: 2k

Warnings: none atm

Synopsis: long distance is taking its toll on you relationship with Jessie

London, Ontario. You knew it well, why?

It was the city you'd grown up in, learned to love and where you now as a 26 year old adult resided. It was also the city you met your childhood sweetheart. Jessie or as most people knew her Jessie Fleming the captain of the Canadian women's soccer team.

You'd met Jessie when you were in kindergarten and since then the two of you had been inseparable. It wasn't until 9th grade though where you'd both realised your friendship was maybe something more, Jessie had been bold and made the first move.

It had been shortly after her debut for the senior team, at 15 years old it was a huge step for her. You'd gone to see her play and unbeknownst to you the feelings you had for the dark haired girl were also creeping their way into her, only the feelings were for you.

So there you were at the sidelines, back then the games weren't so busy but you held up a sign for her "Fleming is my hero" she came over and said hi, the freckled Canadian grinning from ear to ear.

Shortly after the game you found yourself sat cross legged on her bed watching some old movie you'd probably seen a hundred times, yet this time you felt different. Your gaze shifted to Jessie whose eyes were already trained on you, she gave you a soft smile and before you knew it her lips were on yours.

You reciprocated the kiss and in your teenage brain it felt like hours when in reality was more than likely ten seconds, that's where it all started though. The innocent touches, the shared looks until one day you decided to bite the bullet and ask Jessie to be your girlfriend and now here you are just over ten years later. Still loving that goofy lopsided smile and those big brown doe eyes.

The issue with London, Ontario though was that it wasn't Portland, Oregon which is where Jessie currently resided. That being said it was two and a half thousand miles closer than London, England which was where she had been for the past three and a half years.

Jessie playing across the border provided to be easier than when she was across an entire ocean. It mean't she could fly to you during off season, you could fly out to games especially the ones she played on the east coast. It was easier. There was no doubt about that.

Yet after graduating high school together and both going to college on the west coast of America yourself at Berkeley and Jessie at UCLA, then dealing with the time differences being on different continents, nothing felt as distant as it did now.

You always knew Jessie would go far and even though you both decided it was best for you to stay in your hometown to pursue your career it seemed to be eating at you more and more.

This is something you should probably bring up to Jessie, yet it never seemed like the right time. When you saw her you'd go to talk but something inside of you didn't want to ruin the precious time you did have together and then she would be gone again. However, over the phone also didn't seem like the best way to have this conversation. So you kept it to yourself.

That was until you visited Portland, Jessie had been there several months by now, however, you'd only managed to get out there a few times but it was better than nothing.

This time was different though, she was showing you some of her favourite places she had found since being in the city, one of which was a coffee shop on the river. As you walked in you took note of the way the barista who you'd soon come to learn was named Alex beamed at your girlfriend, her face slightly dropping as she clocked you and your fingers threaded through Jessie's. This didn't go unnoticed by you.

She greeted Jessie as you both came up to the counter and Jessie introduced you to her, telling you how Alex had helped her one day when she got caught in the rain and the paper bag with her groceries had split. They'd soon became friends and Jessie would frequent Alex's coffee shop, it seemed odd to you that Jessie hadn't mentioned her to you before.

As you turned to find a seat you noticed that the shelves in the shop contained some old cameras and some books, the layout of the shop and the items scattered is only what you could describe as a representation of Jessie's brain. You mentioned this to Jessie and she told you that's why she liked this place so much, her eyes then wondered over towards the counter where Alex was looking over at you both smiling. A pang of jealousy struck you in the chest.

Once you'd both finished your coffee Jessie suggested one of her new favourite walks that Alex had apparently showed her, you politely declined, feigning a migraine and asking to go back to her apartment.

Arriving back at the apartment you laid down on the couch on your front a pillow under your head as your arms stretched out underneath it, that's when you felt some soft material poking out from under the couch cushions. After a slight tug you find a flannel shirt, one you didn't recognise.

"Hey babe" you call out

"What's up?" Your girlfriend says walking over to where you lay.

"What's this?" You ask holding up the garment in question

"Oh" she scratches the back of her neck "That's Alex's, she must've left it here"

"What was Alex doing in your apartment? Much less leaving clothes?"

"She just came over one day after I'd finished training to bring coffee... she must've got hot and just left it here by accident" Jessie says almost questioning it herself.

"Right.." you say pushing yourself up so you're sat on the edge of the couch.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"It's just. Jessie, you seem real close with her. The way she was eye fucking you across the coffee shop, how her clothes are literally in your apartment. How you've never told me about her ever yet she seems to be a big part of your Portland life, it just doesn't make sense!" You say beginning to raise your voice.

"I didn't bring her up because I want to focus on you when we talk, she was certainly not eye fucking me and she's just been helpful since I met her"

"Yeah, yeah Jessie, you can't deny the way she looked at you" you yell at her

"You're out of your fucking mind!" She yells back

"I'm out of my fucking mind, clearly you are lying or just so stupidly naive if you don't think she likes you"

Your words are almost instantly confirmed when Jessie's phone lights up on the coffee table,

Alex💕: You still coming over after you drop your girlfriend at the airport tomorrow?

"And there we go" you say gesturing to her phone

"Wow, we are really doing that huh?" She says handing you her phone

"Go on look through our messages" she huffs at you rolling her eyes

"I'm not saying I don't trust you Jess, I'm saying I don't trust her" you place her phone back on the coffee table.

Running your hands through your hair you don't know where to look, settling on the ground you can't bring yourself to look at her.

"She's just a friend, even if she does have feelings I promise you I don't" she says tilting your chin to look up at her.

Begrudgingly you make eye contact with her, deep down you know she's right. Jessie could never cheat on you... could she? You shake your head dismissing that thought.

"You're right, I trust you Jess. It's just been hard you know? You've been so far away for so long and I'm not one hundred percent sure how I can keep doing it" you let out a sigh feeling relived you addressed your feelings.

"Right... so what does that mean for you? For us?" She narrows her eyes slightly somewhat taken aback by your statement. It wasn't that Jessie hadn't also felt the strain and had begun to have those questions herself, it was more that she hadn't even thought about you feeling the same.

"I'm not sure, I love you Jess, I always will but it's just not felt right for awhile" you say your chest tightening

"I see, I love you too but you're right it's been hard, what should we do?"

"Maybe, maybe we should take a break. See how we are in a few months from now?"

"And if we are meant to be, we will be?" She says sadness seeping into her voice

"So, this is it?" You ask tears brimming in your eyes

"This is it" she repeats back to you.

"For now" she follows up.

-

Before you knew it you were on the plane back to your hometown, Jessie still in Portland. Your conversation last night ended with the mutual decision to keep contact to a minimum whilst you both figure things out.

You'd gotten on the plane with a book and some music downloaded on your phone, the way you'd kill the next few hours instead of enduring crying babies and staring at the seat ahead. That all went out the window though when a girl in the seat next to you was struggling to put her luggage in the overhead bin.

You being the kindhearted person that you were you'd decided to give her a hand, helping her cram her baggage in as she slammed down the bin door. Only she ended up knocking your phone out of your hand which came crashing down in the aisle.

She was so apologetic but that didn't help the fact you now had a broken phone and a six hour flight with nothing but yourself and your thoughts.

This gave you time to think about your relationship and your own life. You'd been with Jessie for all of your adult life and half of your teenage years, the time you had made you realise how you didn't know who you were without her, this break would be harder than you first thought.

You loved Jessie, you really did. Just for now you knew you needed to see who you were and what your life was without her.

After several hours of your mind ticking away back and forth between if you made the right decision or not, how you felt and if you should've just stuck with it you finally exit the aircraft making your way to the luggage carousel. As you turn to take your luggage you see a pair of feet in front of you and hear what sounds like someone gasping for breath.

"Oh hi" you say slightly surprised at the disheveled girl in front of you, the same girl from the plane.

"Sorry, it's just, I... hold on" she pants out

You stay still your gaze steady on her whilst she regains composure.

"I, I'm sorry about your phone. I couldn't let you go without apologising again and.." she rummages in her pocket pulling out a crumpled napkin with the airline logo stamped on it.

"This is for you" she says handing it to you

"Your dirty napkin?" You question confused.

"No, open it" she laughs

You do, looking up meeting her eyes a confused look still plastered on your face, eyebrow slightly raised and head cocked.

"What, what's this?" You ask

"My number silly" she giggles to herself lightly before carrying on "when you get your phone fixed, call me or text me and we can grab coffee or something and I'll reimburse you for the damage"

"I don't expect you to do that"

"It's nothing really!" She insists

"Well I'll agree to the coffee but don't worry about anything else" you bargain with her

"Deal" she shakes your hand "It's a date"

Those three words replayed in your head the rest of the day.

[coddda]

Hiiiiiii. Episode 25/26 lawlight analysis rant thingy here. I don't know how to write an intro for this so let's just get to it LOL

I think one of the reasons that the rain/foot scenes stick out so much (the. Sheer insanity of a Foot Massage Scene in an anime revolving around two guys trying to kill each other aside 💀) is the fact that the anime specifically suffers a bit in terms of adapting a few of the "emotional" moments in death note.

And I don't mean "emotionally impactful" exactly. For example I think the adaptations of scenes like Raye and Naomi's deaths were very impactful and the atmospheres of their final scenes were great, but I mean more from a characterization standpoint (if that makes sense). Being more focused on mind and logic games, Death Note as a whole isn't as invested in individual characters' deeper feelings as it is in its action (which isn't necessarily a criticism per say, it's simply part of the nature of a mystery thriller series). But just because they're fewer and farther between doesn't mean there are none at all. In the manga we do get to see, for example, how much Light actually cared for his family and especially Sayu, and how he actually felt more conflicted and suffered lack of sleep/appetite when he first used the Death Note.

The anime specifically as an adaptation is pretty good at adapting the main mind fuckery and action of Death Note, but its lacking in properly adapting scenes like the ones I mentioned above is a criticism I see somewhat often, and it's pretty fair imo. Compared to all the other adaptations, it certainly seems to fall short on an emotional level: the musical has entire songs going in depth about the characters feelings and relationships, the 2015 jdrama is. Insane and has its emotional moments in spades (because it's a TV drama, which are more focused on portraying emotional conflict and the like), even the 2006 movies has its emotional beats and L Change the WorLd is. Well. Oh Man.

Anime Light to a lot of people is like. Light but he's "already evil" (which I have my own thoughts on but I digress). Light but after using the Death Note for like 2 minutes he's already like "fuck yeah time to kill criminals". Basically the anime doesn't take as much time to delve into his less cynical sides or really delve into his already vague and harder to decipher feelings in general, he is noticeably colder from the get-go here, etc.

But that's part of why I think episode 25 manages to stand out so much tonally (apart from it being, y'know, the episode L literally Dies). I love the episode so much and could probably rant for hours about how much I love the artistic choices made in it but what I'm trying to get at here is that it's one of the very few moments where the show tries to go deeper into specific character's emotions, and one of the very few moments where the show Attempts (emphasis on "attempts" because, well, you'll see in a bit) to get more in-depth into Light's feelings apart from his cynicism/apathy/justice. ness.

L in these two scenes in episode 25 is, well, pretty damn open about how he feels. It's usually interpreted as him knowing that he's going to die, and you can see it. He visibly looks/sounds lost, somber, etc. He never really had much to hide around Light to begin with (since he doesn't really care about hiding himself the same way Light does) but especially not now and it Shows, and I personally thought it was pretty cool to delve into his thoughts/show how he feels this way. The somberness can be felt throughout the entire scene, even people who don't already know the plot of Death Note from the manga could probably tell that he's about to die.

In the manga, once L starts suspecting Misa again and Rem realizes what Light is trying to do, it goes straight to Watari and L's deaths, but the anime instead gives a distinct and unexpected pause in the middle of this where L contemplates his own death. It's fucking great, and the shift from straight action to slower emotional weight makes these scenes stand out a lot, since, like I said, the show usually focuses more on the former. But it's kind of ironic, too.

Not only does the anime open up L's feelings more in these scenes, but it also tries to dig deeper into Light's feelings as well through L. And it's really funny honestly because while, yes, these are the more "emotionally open" scenes of the anime Light still manages to be Incredibly avoidant and contribute almost nothing to the entire ordeal.

L is visibly upset -> "Yeah Ryuzaki, you're not making any sense at all" (Not addressing the obvious conflict from L)

"Tell me, Light. From the moment you were born, has there ever been a point where you've actually told the truth?" -> "[The most stale, over-explained, avoidant answer to a "yes/no" question that you could ever hear + blatant attempts to reframe the question]"

(L's half-smile here kills me) "I had a feeling you'd say something like that" -> [Nothing]

"I'm sorry" -> [Nothing]

"It'll be lonely won't it? You and I will be parting ways soon" -> [Nothing]

^ From this point Light continues to say literally Nothing for the rest of the scene. I'm not even joking, from then on the rest of Light's voicelines are reduced to nothing but vague noises of confusion.

Everytime L calls Light out as a person ("Has there ever been a point where you've actually told the truth?" / "I had a feeling you'd say something like that." / "Won't it be lonely?") he doesn't actually acknowledge anything. Out of those three lines, he only answers verbally to if he's ever told the truth, and even then it's the most blatantly people-pleasing answer ever, as it usually is with Light. And I don't think it's because Light just. Doesn't care about any of what L's saying at all, or that he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about (questioning Light's authenticity as a person, saying it would be lonely when they part), instead he's choosing not to acknowledge any of what this means about himself or him and L at all. He's like a fucking wall.

And like, for the truth question in particular, the show makes sure that you know it's not something that Light just. Doesn't care enough about to answer. The hard cuts to silence are a very rare but extremely effective way that the show conveys an extremely important moment (see: Light regaining his memories, Matsuda noticing Light opening the warehouse door before he escapes (not as much of a "direct" cut to silence but still)), and cuts to multiple angles/framings/zooms of the exact same shot are also used for the same purpose (see: Light hugging Misa when she was crying, Matsuda aiming his gun to shoot Light, Light regaining his memories Again). Just like the scene where Light gets his memories back, the moment L's question finishes the show utilizes both. That question cut Deep. There's is a solid Almost 5 seconds of silence before the sound of the rain gradually starts fading back in, and honestly that should be telling enough as is (but of course Light doesn't actually admit that. Or anything at all really, so). Oh also another fun detail! We do not see Light's face At All (except for the shot where you can see his mouth moving but not his eyes), for the Entire time that he's going on his spiel to L. We Will Be Revisiting This Later, by the way. This is not, in fact, the first time you're going to see this detail from Light.

The only sort of reciprocation that we see from Light during Any of these two scenes is when Light dries L's hair while L dries his feet. Biblical meanings/references aside it's interesting because it's the only time he directly does anything "for" L in these scenes, but even then he doesn't try to pass it off as anything meaningful really the same way L does ("You're still soaked", a purely neutral and factual statement. It doesn't Add Anything compared to L's. Sin atonement loneliness grieving stuff. While Light is showing his own reciprocation to this more personal moment he also tries to keep it impersonal enough that it doesn't actually have to mean anything deep). And when L says "I'm sorry" after he once again gets no response from Light. It's also after this that L gets that pained look on his face, like he knows that at this point he's not actually going to get anything meaningful from Light (again, very significant and rare from L in the show. We've seen him in distress (see: when Ukita died, hell, when Watari dies), but even then he mostly manages to keep his usually neutral expression), we never see him "look sad" like he does here):

I just think it's interesting that this is one of the few scenes in this particular adaptation of Death Note where they try to open up the character's thoughts/feeling (especially considering the fact that they. lowkey blunder in adaptations of original scenes from the manga), and L himself is being rather open (not that he ever really tries to hide what he thinks nearly as much as Light), and yet all Light contributes to it in return is like. Actually nothing. Bro fumbled it. There is no resolution to any of this, to any of what L asks at all, to any of the many opportunities for a meaningful conversation, and the only thing even relatively close to an answer that you can get from Light is what you can infer from how he acts in the episode after L dies, where he's just going through the motions, but hardly acting as if he's actually living at all.

(Honestly I think the transition from this scene with the taskforce to the subsequent scene with Misa says enough on its own. Light's expressions and tone says everything:)

(Oh sidenote but. This shit again:

"Light, this is our first date in forever. can't you enjoy yourself a little more?" ('Why don't you seem happy? We can finally be together since L is dead') -> No response, Light instead changing the topic to him wanting to move in with Misa without changing his mannerisms at all

Also there's that one detail again. You pretty much don't see Light's expression when he speaks here at all, except for one shot of his eyes, which is quite literally the exact same shot they used when he "saw" L, just altered for the new setting. You have No idea what he looks like when he's responding to Misa, although it's probably fair to assume that it's the same empty stare he has for the whole Two Shots where you can clearly see his whole expression in the entire scene.

Something something Light Yagami bad at feelings I think you get the point though)

I guess Light's Kind of showing what he's feeling now? He'll admit to himself that it's boring without L, but no more than that. Light never actually admits to anything "significant", and L's dead already anyway, so what would that even do?

And then we get, uh. Basically nothing from Light. For the next 5 Years. Except that he joined the NPA, so, uh, yay? Good job, Light you totally nailed it! Thank you for allowing us as an audience to delve deeper into your inner thoughts and feelings as a character so we can find out more about you as a person! Very helpful! Thank you for not sabotaging one of your few dedicated opportunities to look into yourself as a person and reflect on your relationships with others and being 100% honest with yourself! We stay winning guys.

Anyway, this got way too long for a scene that's over a decade old, and I've probably just said everything that everyone else has already said in this fandom before. But unfortunately this has been living in my head for way too long and I must scream. I just think this episode's neat is all :)

tl;dr Part of the reason why the rain/foot scene (tbh episode 25 in General) stands out so much is because the Death Note anime specifically was a bit robbed in terms of its more emotional character moments compared to the other medias, which makes more somber/introspective scenes like the ones in episode 25 stand out a Lot in comparison. But it's also incredibly ironic because it's one of the few moments where the show (or specifically L) tries to look deeper into Light's character, but because he is so avoidant for the entire duration of these two scenes he adds basically nothing at all. It's almost funny. Mostly sad. It's also very gay. Aand post

Okay actually nevermind one more thing I talked about how the jdrama is supposed to be more emotionally in-depth because it is a TV Drama and just for the record, same thing happens there! I could probably do an entire analysis of the Blue Scene in this context like I did with episode 25 but I'd literally be here forever, so uh, just take this iconic line as my main example:

Same Thing. L's statement "I wish we could have met some other way" is personal. It's his own wish, his own regret that he is expressing to Light. While Light's reply obviously has that same regret implied it's also phrased in a specifically impersonal way. It's closed off. "This is the only way we could have met" it closes off the topic and simply renders L's wish as ultimately futile. Light does not say that he Also wishes he could have met L a different way even if it was likely impossible, instead it's a cold statement of cynical fact.

Idk just. Something something L being able and Willing to be more openly sentimental/emotionally open towards Light/about Light vs. Light's inability to be honest with anyone including himself and his own nature preventing any form of meaningful reciprocation. Something something self-sabotage, y'know the drill. God don't even get me Started on how sincere L's tone is when he says "It'll be lonely won't it?"(at least in the eng dub) in the anime I could talk about his tone in that scene for ages. Also yes all of this relates to L Change the WorLd too by the way. Don't ask how it just does okay.

I do think that scenes like these (rain/foot scene, The Blue Scene. Uh. L Change the WorLd The Novel Adaptation) show, at least in those adaptations, that L does genuinely care for Light, and show that he values him as a friend not just in the mindgame-equal sense but also just like, a more sincere sense you know. Idk if that made any sense and that's a whole other topic for another day but you guys just have to believe me on this one alright please please believe me buries head in hands. Okay post over finally thanks for coming to my tedtalk hope you enjoyed my very-unnecessarily long analysis of the week

[asarajaa]

can I get some headcanons about jealous Kenma?? Thank you!!

Sure! Hope you like it <3!

Warnings: gn!reader Words: 565 Disclaimer: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Jelous Kenma hcs

₊˚ෆ I don't think Kenma is the jelousy type tbh.

₊˚ෆ But sometimes he has insecurities because, look at you, how is it that you-a beautiful, incredible, gorgeous (and the list goes on) person- ended up with a guy like him?

₊˚ෆ The boy thinks that you're out of his league and that he's so lucky to have you.

₊˚ෆ However, if you're ignoring him, well, that's different.

₊˚ෆ At first, he doesn't notice beacuse, why would you ignore him?

₊˚ෆ But once he does- proceed with caution.

₊˚ෆ This boy will make anything to caught your attention.

₊˚ෆ There was this time when you decided to try videogames, but no Kenmas videogames, no, otome videogames.

You were just chilling in your boyfriends bed, scrolling through social media while your boyfriend was playing in his computer until you saw this new viral otome game. In your boredom, you decided to give it a try and- omg

What is this thing and where was it your whole life???

The hours went by and you were just giggling and moving while playing with your phone. After failing the mission for the 34th time in a row, Kenma decided to have a little break.

Kenma lay down on his bed only to find you 100% focused on your phone. At first, he though you were only watching a video and when the video's over you'll give him attention.

With that in mind, he waited patiently on the other side of his bed for you to notice him. But when the minutes went by and you weren't paying him any attention, he though he had enough.

"Uhm, babe? What are you watching?" he asked calmly, with no signs that he wanted your attention because he's not attention starved.

(Oh, but he is)

You shuddered and give a small jump "Kenma? I didn't notice you" you said while you returned your gaze back to the game, his brow furrowing. "What were you saying?" you asked.

"I asked you what were you watching" he repetead himself.

"Actually, I'm talking to a guy of this ne- oh my god" you let out a giggle while your fingertips were tapping.

His brow furrowed more because who were you talking to and why was he more important than him, your boyfriend?

"A guy? I know him?" he asked, moving closer to you.

"I don't think so?" you chuckle imagine your boyfriend playing the otome game "His name is Zach, he's 24 and has electric blue eyes with baby blue hair" you gave him hints, hoping that he'd hear of him since he's the main male lead of the game.

"Who on this earth has baby blue hair' Like-"

"Shoyo has orange hair."

"..."

"..."

"...Do you want me to dye my hair baby blue?"

"Baby- What?" you asked shocked, what on earth was he talking a- oh.

Oh.

"Are you jelous?" you were teasing him.

"..."

" You know I'm p-playing an otome-game, r-right?" you were trying your best to not laugh but his cute red face was not helping.

He quietly gets up of the bed and started walking towards his computer.

Now you were laughing.

"B-Baby! Wait! I didn't mean to but-"

₊˚ෆ He thinks that's the most embarassed time he's ever been.

₊˚ෆ Kenma will start playing videogames again like nothing happend.

₊˚ෆ At the end, you had to cuddle with him and explain him all the situation, while you tried your best to not laugh.

Thank you all for sending request! I'm so happy to do them!

Please, tell me your opn about this one, I really appreciate if you guys comment on how can I improve <3

26/04/24

© asarajaa — Please, do not copy, translate or reuse my work without my permission.

[huellitaa]

long list of little things to do for urself 🧸🎀🫶✨

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. wash ur bedding, towels, curtains, etc.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. fill up ur shopping baskets on every site possible

🫶🏻𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. clean out cosmetics and skincare

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. start a project of something you love

⭐𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. browse cute pets to buy one day

💬𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. impulsively rearrange ur space

🩷𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. light some candles (if u arent deathly afraid of fire)

🐇𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. clean out your purse and every day bag

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 9. make a pillow fort

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 10. redo all ur playlists and clean them all out

🫶🏻𓂃 ࣪˖ 11. lay on the floor and sing ur fav songs for 3 hours

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ 12. make a recipe book (even if u cant cook)

⭐𓂃 ࣪˖ 13. clean ur mirrors and windows

💬𓂃 ࣪˖ 14. write a debate about a topic you feel strongly on

🩷𓂃 ࣪˖ 15. create some art to go on ur walls

🐇𓂃 ࣪˖ 16. stick up some old photos or cute things and decorate ur walls

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 17. polish ur jewelry

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 18. write a huge essay on something you know nothing about

🫶🏻𓂃 ࣪˖ 19. watch a virtual concert (youtube - tiny desk is v good!)

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ 20. make urself a big fruit platter

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 21. read a parenting book and see how you can incorporate the tips mentioned into how u treat urself

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 22. mend ur old clothes or get someone to help u fix them

🫶🏻𓂃 ࣪˖ 23. read a book w a flashlight and happy music under a blanket

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ 24. host a tea party w ur plushies and old toys

⭐𓂃 ࣪˖ 25. study ur horoscope for this month and how u can use it to ur advantage

💬𓂃 ࣪˖ 26. go thrifting and window shopping and take photos on ur phone of the things you want to create a visual wishlist

🩷𓂃 ࣪˖ 27. sort through ur books, cds, clothes, etc.; organise and throw out!

🐇𓂃 ࣪˖ 28. perform a concert in ur bedroom of ur fav album ever

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 29. dress up and create the most elaborate, unhinged outfits you possibly can

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 30. start a blog or site on something you care about

🫶🏻𓂃 ࣪˖ 31. contemplate ur core philosophies and question what is the meaning of life and what you're living for

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ 32. spend all day reading a random pdf book ur never gonna find again

⭐𓂃 ࣪˖ 33. plan out ur dream wedding online

💬𓂃 ࣪˖ 34. fully examine ur body and make sure everything's working and looking fine

🩷𓂃 ࣪˖ 35. create outfits within a specific theme and try them on

🐇𓂃 ࣪˖ 36. go online shopping for clothes and make outfits w the things you find even if you don't like them

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 37. make a playlist of all the songs u used to love when you were younger

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 38. build a tower out of stationery or anything you can find and make it as tall as you can

🫶🏻𓂃 ࣪˖ 39. take a picture of something ur grateful for wherever you go

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ 40. live out ur daydreams on pinterest and make random boards of random lifestyles or dreams you have or are interested in

⭐𓂃 ࣪˖ 41. organise ur digital storage like apps, google drive, documents, photos, desktop, games, consoles, etc.

💬𓂃 ࣪˖ 42. randomly set a reminder for somewhen in the future that you can think of saying that everything will be okay

🩷𓂃 ࣪˖ 43. have a park day without ur phone and make ur own entertainment

🐇𓂃 ࣪˖ 44. find ur enneagram number, do ur myers briggs test, study ur birth chart, find out more about urself bcuz ur the most important subject you could ever study

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 45. write down ur biggest, wildest dreams with no bounds whatsoever

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 46. attentively track ur moods for a day or a few; take note of how ur feeling every few hours, note it down and ask urself what impacts it to change and fluctuate

🫶🏻𓂃 ࣪˖ 47. educate urself in whats going on in the world right now

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ 48. learn about the history of ur home town

⭐𓂃 ࣪˖ 49. create a list of all ur favourite things and rank them like cosmetics, perfumes, bands, foods, drinks, etc.

💬𓂃 ࣪˖ 50. make a music video playlist to play on ur tv

all my love... 💬🎀🫶🏻💗

[vashtijoy]

why everybody is wrong about the unlock date for akechi's rank 6 (and why it matters)

So It Is Known that Akechi's rank 6 unlocks on 9/3, right? That's the first day he'll show up in Leblanc to go to the bathhouse and tell you about his sad backstory (again). That is his unlock date. R...ight?

Game says no.

This is the function that (usually) tests Akechi's rank 6 time lock, SUB_COOP_TIME_[L]OCK6(). What does it do? It sets a bit, 0x1 831, if we fail the check. Which we will unfailingly do on every single day within a specified date range. And what is that range?

That range is between 4/1 and 8/28.

Read that again. Not 9/2, the day before 9/3. 8/28.

The same 8/28 we all know and love for, uh, some reasons:

That's right. The reason Akechi's confidant is locked until 9/3, the reason he has not one but two "let me tell you about my backstory" events inside of a week, is that one triggers the other.

Akechi shows up at Leblanc on 8/28. He finds a listening ear, and a shoulder to cry on—because, remember, we're smack in the middle of Akechi Hate Month:

This kid, who is so desperate for attention and approval that he's become a mass-murderer over it, is now in the middle of a public hate storm. And on 8/28, you listen to him. You make him welcome. You accept him for who he is—at least, for a little part of who he is.

And so he comes back less than a week later. On 9/3.

if he unlocks on 8/29, why 9/3?

Akechi's availability is often quite limited. Between 8/28 and 9/3, he's only available on one day, 8/30—though if you're already at rank 5, you can't do anything with him then.

Why doesn't he come to Leblanc on 8/30?

The Leblanc field (areas in P5 are technically known as fields) calls a very long, very unedifying function called NPC_FLAG_SELECTOR(), to see which NPCs it should load when. In short? It does this by testing the day of the week.

GET_DAYOFWEEK() returns a number between 0 (Sunday) and 6 (Saturday). So, because Akechi will only come to Leblanc if GET_DAYOFWEEK() returns 6, Akechi will only ever come to Leblanc on Saturdays.

And the first Saturday after 8/29? It is, of course, 9/3.

why does this matter?

Does this change anything? In practical terms, no. Akechi is still always going to be inaccessible for rank 6 until 9/3. But does it confirm anything about him? Well, yeah.

Akechi's rank 7 unlock really is on 11/2, the morning he tells you "I was working last night, so I'm tired today"—that time lock terminates on 11/1. His skill checks (Knowledge and Charm) are all exactly what you think. He even has a hidden lock for rank 8 (still called a time lock by the code) which verifies that he's currently a team member and won't let you proceed otherwise; that, too, acts exactly as you'd expect.

It's rank 6 which turns out to have this secret, to truly be as closely connected to 8/28 as it always appeared. Akechi comes to Leblanc in his hour of need, and he finds something—and then, the next day, he wants more.

And so he comes back—the very next evening he can get away to spend time in Yongen-jaya.

(Incidentally, I'm pretty sure Akechi lives in Kichijoji, and this kind of backs that up. It's the sort of super-trendy place he'd make a show of liking, and in fairness, he clearly does like it. He can only come to Yongen on Saturday nights because it's a lot of travel, close to an hour each way in the early evenings. But Kichijoji? He can hang out there far more often—because it's right on his doorstep.)

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2023/12/26)—first posted.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Burning Love

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 26. Burning Fandom: MCU, Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, f!reader Summary: When you and Bucky are captured, HYDRA scientists try to force you to use your powers to kill him. But you refuse to hurt the man you love, regardless of how much pain it may cause you... Word Count: 2171 TW: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Whump, Burning, Torture, Self-Sacrifice, Self-Inflicted Wounds, Laser Beams, Damaged Vision, Bucky Carries Reader, Happy Ending Notes: Thank you to @ohtobeleah for looking this over for me 💞 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

“Doll, please, open your eyes.” The desperation in Bucky’s voice as he pleads with you breaks your heart, but it’s better than the alternative if you comply with his wishes.

You twitch your head as much as the leather restraint across your forehead will allow, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. Through gritted teeth, you grunt, “Not gonna happen, Sarge.”

The pain coursing through you is horrible, but knowing what it would do to Bucky if you gave in is enough to make it bearable—somewhat. Unlike his body, yours is more equipped to handle the damage caused by the laser beams you can shoot from your eyes. While it has taken maybe an hour to get to this point—where your eyelids and surrounding skin are charred, bubbly, and blackened like a flamed-broiled marshmallow—you would have cut through Bucky’s flesh in seconds. Which is why you are fighting so hard to protect him from your open eyes. 

“Turn it off,” a frustrated voice growls behind you. “We'll have to try something else.”

The searing sensation in your eyes disappears and you shift against the numerous restraints holding you into the metal chair. It feels so violating to have these HYDRA scientists hooking you up to their machinery, digging through your brain, and activating your beams as they see fit. You wonder if this is how Bucky used to feel back when he was the Winter Soldier.

As the scientists fiddle with the equipment behind you, you hear a tender voice call out to you. “Are you okay?”

“Right as rain,” you mumble. “How you doing, Buck?” The last thing you saw before you began forcing yourself to keep your eyes closed was Bucky being strapped into his own chair directly across from you.

“Horrible. Watching you barbeque yourself just to spare me…Doll, you can’t keep doing this. You won’t survive it much longer.”

You gave him a wry chuckle. “I’ve been accidentally burning myself with these things my entire life. I can take it.”

“For how long?” You don’t answer. “Please, look at me. I need to see you’re okay behind all of this.”

As much as you want nothing more in this world than to stare into Bucky’s loving gaze one last time, it’s not worth the potential cost. “I can’t. They could turn them back on at any second and…I can’t risk it.” 

“I’m not worth all the pain they’re putting you through. I don’t deserve this kind of sacrifice—not after everything I’ve done.”

Smiling in his direction, you whisper, “When will you stop blaming yourself for what they made you into and see the man you truly are? The man I love.”

It sounds like Bucky is about to say something else but, before he can, an angry voice from behind you barks out, “I’m tired of this game. Increase the power.”

Bucky screams, “No!”

Suddenly, the pain behind your eyes increases exponentially and the pressure within your head becomes unbareable. An inhuman screech is ripped from your lips. Something in your vocal cords snaps under the strain. You smell the faint whiff of burning hair mixed in with your cooking flesh and wonder if the last of your eyelashes have finally been seared off. Your bare toes scrap against the cold concrete as they involuntarily curl as all the muscles in your body contract. Every other part of your body is restrained by the straps holding you down, but you begin violently shaking as the tension within you becomes too great.

The small part of your mind that’s still coherent wonders if your eyes roll back into your head if you’ll fry your brain and end this torture. Maybe it is worth it to try.

You have no idea how long they keep your beams on this time—all your remaining focus and energy is on keeping your eyes closed. Bucky is screaming, crying, begging, but his voice sounds echoey and far away so you can’t make out his words. You aren’t sure what HYDRA will do to him once you’re gone, but you pray he fights them with everything he has.

Finally, the machine behind you is flipped off and your body sags against your restraints. Without them, you know you’d topple to the floor, no longer possessing the energy to hold yourself up. Everything hurts now, not just your eyes. But you’re still alive which means you aren’t done fighting.

You hear footsteps approaching and you recognize the voice of the man in charge as he curses, kicking one of the legs of your chair. “This is ridiculous. How many of you fucking idiots does it take to make her kill the Soldier? Just pry her eyes open, clamp them in place, and turn the machine back on.”

You grin weakly, feeling blood dripping down your chin where you had bit your tongue. With your ruined voice, you croak, “You can try, but the second any of you put a finger near my eyes, I’m burning it off.” 

The man beside you yanks on the restraint across your forehead, tightening it to the point you feel bones crack. You let out a soft whimper as the man growls, “Fine. We’ll turn it up to full power and leave it on. Let her burn completely through her eyelids. Then we’ll get the results we want.” You hear him turn and march away.

For the first time, your resolve wavers as a small sob bubbles up in your chest. Your body may be resistant to your beams and can repair wounds sustained from them, but it takes time. If these scientists can make you burn through your eyelids—and based on how everything is starting to look a little brighter through your closed lids, it seems like a very real possibility—then there is nothing you can do to stop them from hitting and killing Bucky. 

You hear the scientists murmuring and fiddling with equipment somewhere far behind you, but you still don’t dare open your eyes in case someone is still at the machine and flips it on the moment you look at Bucky. Yet it won’t matter for much longer if they carry out their plan. 

“Doll…” The word is whispered so low you can barely hear it.

“Buck…,” It’s hard to whisper with your ruined voice, the sound more of a croak than a real word. But you hope he can understand you with his super-soldier hearing. “I’m sorry. I-I can’t stop this.”

“I know. You’ve done so good so far.” Even in a whisper, the love in his voice feels like a comforting embrace. “But I have a plan. You just gotta trust me.” 

“I do. You know I do.” 

“Then when I tell you to open your eyes and turn on your beams, whether they’re making you or not.”

You sob, “But Bucky—”

“Trust me!” he hisses. 

“Okay…okay, I’ll do it.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Doll. Whatever happens, I love you. And this isn’t your fault.”

A single tear escapes your ruined eyes and rolls down your scared cheek. “I love you too. But we both know, it is.”

Bucky doesn’t respond. However, you can hear a soft scraping and shuffling from his vicinity. Maybe he found a way to escape. Or maybe…he couldn’t be asking you to kill him. After all the pain and suffering you’d put yourself through to keep him alive, he wouldn’t have you take him out now just to end both of your pain…would he?

But you promised to trust him and you do, so when you hear him mutter, “All the way down and to the right. Now!”, you follow his instructions.

Shifting your gaze behind closed lids as far to the right and downward as they’ll go, you open your eyes and blast without a second's hesitation. 

Your beams strike Bucky in the center of his left forearm, just a few inches above his wrist. Even though it is his metal arm, you are horrified. You thought he had found a way to get you to blast open his cuffs or melt his chair, and in a way, even killing him instantly would be better than this. His vibranium arm is advanced enough that it still allows him to feel sensations such as texture, pressure, and—what concerns you in this situation—temperature and even pain. Instead of ending his life with one blast, you are now forcing him to endure the same agony you have been going through. 

As the metal begins to glow under the intense heat of your beams, you want to screw your eyes shut once more. But Bucky told you to do this and you promised to trust him. Even though he is grunting and panting because of the pain, he isn’t telling you to stop so you keep your beams focused on his arm. 

Eventually, the red-hot glow expands and soon reaches his wrist. In moments, the metal restraint liquifies and Bucky wrenches his arm free. Without having to be told, you slam your eyes shut once more.

You can hear the sounds of fighting all around you: guns firing until their clips run empty, flesh sizzling against metal followed by screams of agony, bodies being flung around the room and crashing to the floor. 

But then everything goes silent.

For a minute, nothing happens. You are just about to call out when a pair of lips press lightly against yours. Jumping slightly, you quickly recognize the kiss. You try to lean into it but the strap across your forehead holds you firmly in place. 

Parting from your lips and pressing his forehead against yours, Bucky whispers, “It’s okay. You can open your eyes now. It’s just you and me.”

Slowly, you peel your eyes open. The world is cloudy and out of focus with huge black spots obstructing your vision. And yet, there was no mistaking the person kneeling in front of you. 

Weakly, you smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he murmurs back.

“H-how bad?”

Bucky’s brow furrows as he runs his thumb gently around the edge of your eye socket, the now cooled metal somewhat soothing against your damaged skin. “It’s really bad, but I’m hoping it’s worse than it looks. Once you get checked out—”

“Not me,” you whisper. “How badly did I hurt you?”

You can hear the smile in his voice even though you can’t make it out. “I’ve had a lot worse. And it’s because of you that it was as minimal as it was. You should’ve just vaporized my head from the very start.” 

“Nah. I knew we’d find a way out eventually.”

“Liar,” he teases. Then, with a more serious tone, he asks, “How’s your vision? You’re blinking an awful lot and that can’t be comfortable.”

You try to think of how to describe what you are seeing. “I can see some shapes, colors, movements…that’s about it. No details. But even that’s a miracle at this point. I’ve never burned myself this badly before.”

“Will they…will they heal?”

You try to shrug but you are still strapped to the chair. “They should. They always have before. Healing the burns is tied into my powers.” You swallow and flinch at the sharp stab of pain cutting down your throat. “My voice, however, might be another story.”

Bucky gently runs his fingers down the side of your neck. “I’m sure SHIELD has some specialists who can help you. But first, we’ve got to get back to them. So let’s get you out of that chair.”

He began unlocking each of your restraints and you can’t stop a moan from escaping. Your skin had been rubbed raw where the metal dug into your skin, and your muscles ache from how tensely they had been clenched in pain. Bucky must have noticed this, because as he undoes each strap, he massages the area, loosening up the muscles enough to ease some of the tension. But every inch of you still throbs in pain. 

As Bucky unlatches the last restraint, he asks, “Do you think you can walk?”

“I’m not sure. Everything hurts. But maybe once I get going—” You try to rise from the seat but barely make any progress before collapsing back down. You look up at Bucky sheepishly. “I guess that’s a no.”

Carefully, he lifts you into his arms and carries you towards the exit. You can’t see where you’re going and the slight bobbing of your vision as he walks is giving you a headache. 

Leaning your head against his chest, you let your damaged eyes drift softly closed. Then you mutter, “I think I need to sleep for a bit. Helps my recovery time.”

You feel Bucky’s lips brush against your temple. “Rest, Doll. I’ll take it from here.”

Nodding softly, you begin slipping into a deep slumber. You are still in a lot of pain, but you don’t regret a single moment of what happened. You’d do it all again if at the end you could be safe in Bucky’s arms once more.

[pepperbloom]

please help my friend Mohammed

hey tumblr! i haven't posted here consistently in a long time, but i'm pretty involved with a couple fundraisers for Palestinian families, and i've heard this is a good place to share them.

so, today i want to tell you about my friend, Mohammed Abdelgawad. his insta is @ s.mohammed_20.

i am in the process of adopting his fundraiser from the current owner, Emma.

Mohammed is only 20 years old, but he has already endured more grief than anyone should ever bear. he used to be a university student. he used to be an incredible defensive soccer player. he used to be passionate about design, art, and video games, like me. he is so kind, so gentle, and so open. in the few weeks since we've started talking, i've shared the story of my transition with him, he's shared his favorite love songs with me, and we've commiserated about photoshop together.

but instead of playing football, or acing his university courses, Mohammed spends his days hungry and afraid, posting videos of his martyred loved ones to instagram, and praying for donations.

Mohammed and i message on instagram and whatsapp every day. he has shared uncensored pictures of his martyred cousins and family with me, and footage he has not posted to social media.

as we talked today, 8/26/24, a missile fell by the building where he is staying, martyring multiple children nearby. this attack was corroborated by my other friends in Gaza as it was actively happening. less than an hour later, Mohammed received the news that another close friend of his was martyred.

all of this is to say, Mohammed is a real guy, and he really, really needs the help.

if you're not hurting for cash, could you please donate to help evacuate Mohammed? he's responsible for evacuating only a portion of his family, and has a very modest goal of $15,000. 🚨🚨 as i write this, he has only reached $674 of his goal. 🚨🚨

here is Mohammed's fundraiser link. https://www.gofundme.com/f/aid-mohammed-family-amidst-gaza-devastation

if you have a roof over your head, food in your fridge, and money in the bank, please, please, give generously. thank you. <3 <3 <3

[animatedglittergraphics-n-more]

RIP, AIM: Remembering how we used to talk on the internet

A eulogy for AOL Instant Messenger, and how it changed the way we talk about games and everything else By Luke Winkie published December 15, 2017

Do you remember all the souls you've lost to the internet? Those incidental friendships, forged in IRC clients, Newgrounds forums, 40-man Ragnaros wipes, scattered across the globe when the web was young? They came into your life and played Fall Out Boy over Ventrilo. They came into your life and disappeared forever. Do you remember when snapping a selfie required a frustrating tangle of mechanical coercion, but it was worth it to show them your face? When real-life names were rarefied information shared exclusively through digital blood pacts? AIM shut down today, and the only thing I can think about is how all of those people still exist somewhere, perhaps exploring the same pit in their stomach that I am.

AIM belongs to all of us. As a pioneering force of internet communication, anyone born in the early '90s or late '80s has spent some time on the platform. As a 26-year old, I'm crucially aware that my appreciation for the prodigal instant messenger is colored by a nostalgia that has nothing to do with the service itself. It was simply the medium of choice to grouse about homework, The Decemberists, girls I liked, and the rest of my random bullshit. 

But I do believe that there's a special union between AIM and people who grew up playing games, or at least came of age on the internet with people who played games. The early millennium revolutions in online multiplayer pitted us together and asked us to collaborate, so of course we carried those early internet accords to their logical extremes—talking all night in lonely chat boxes about what's cool, what sucks, and how easy it is to relate. In 2017, the web feels less like something I approach for those connections, and more like an overwhelming ennui that I'm constantly trying to outrun. Boston's Kyle Seeley nailed that feeling perfectly with 2015's Emily is Away, and this year's sequel Emily is Away Too—both of which transport you back to the spongy leather office chairs of your parents' computer room.

"AIM was primarily for one-on-one conversations between teenagers. That's how I used AIM, to have a very intimate conversation with another person. Now we have texting and Facebook messenger, but you can use those wherever you are," he says. "You can use those at a concert or while driving. But when you were using AIM, you were sitting down at a computer to talk to people. You had their undivided attention." 

Emily is Away tributes AIM in the only way anyone can—spinning a yarn of disentranced high-school drama that eventually mounts into something deeply sad. The way Seeley presents an old Windows XP desktop, with the hilariously temperamental tastes of your idiot friends revealing themselves in their bios and away messages (until one day they stop logging on entirely) is immediately resonant. We've all had our Emilys. "When you have a conversation on the phone, you spend 10 minutes making small talk," says Seeley. "On AIM you talk to someone for hours. Like eight hours, 10 hours straight. You get all the small talk out of the way in the first hour, and then you're talking about these big teenager questions. Who am I? Who do I want to be? I think AIM was really good at that."

It was always difficult for me to articulate the intimacy I felt with my internet friends to my parents. There were the obvious, mechanical mistranslations; I begged my mother for early exits from countless family dinners that consistently managed to interfere with my guild's crucial Molten Core attempts. But beyond that, there was a certain shame in feeling loved and valued by people I only knew by username. A latent fear that those who did not understand might consider that affection to be false, or even sinister. That's different now, as social media has flattened out our offline/online dichotomy, but if you were on AIM, you probably remember how once upon a time those bonds felt illegal.

Years ago Nina Freeman, level designer at Fullbright and one of the foremost thinkers on love and technology, launched a flat-out covert campaign to get close with one of those friends. She spent months locked in the holy matrimony of Final Fantasy XI and nightly AIM treatises with a boy named Glenn from New York City. Eventually they met, but not before Freeman satisfied her aunt, (who she was staying with) with a fabricated narrative—Glenn was no longer a dude from the internet, now he was just an old family friend who happened to move east. "I was still in high school," says Freeman. "We made up that whole story."

That secrecy is immediately familiar to me. AIM was surreptitious, clandestine. A service that belonged to teenagers, sequestered from leering ears and concerned authority figures. As Freeman notes, a screen name was one of the few commodities a young person could fully own. A domain, an aesthetic, a communication channel you could control. It was rare to feel fully untethered from your parents, so you guarded that sliver of liberty with your life.

"I wouldn't hand out [my username] lightly," explains Freeman. "I'd only really do it with people I felt close enough with. It seems sort intimate. It was a 'thing' to add someone on AIM. The expectation would be that if we're adding each other, we're going to chat regularly.… It had a weight to it."

Cecilia D'Anastasio, senior reporter at Kotaku (and a friend of mine) went a step further. As an 11-year-old, she was already griefing in the multiplayer Flash games she shared with her friends over AIM. I don't think anything sums up the juvenile euphoria of instant messaging quite like using that power to cheat in stakes-free freeware.

"One of the Flash games I discovered was basically Pictionary, but online and with a chat room. One player would etch out an image in a Microsoft Paint-like interface while the chat would dutifully guess at what it could possibly be. It was very wholesome," says D'Anastasio. "That's why my friend June and I were passionate about cheating. We'd join a game on the same team. Over AIM, we'd tell each other what we were assigned to draw, instructing whoever was guessing to wait a solid ten seconds before revealing the answer. It was a riot. We always won."

Over the past decade or so AIM has slowly been replaced with services that de-emphasize traditional internet patois. Gchat and Twitter are all full of real names and faces instead of coded handles and custom-colored text, and logging in to most platforms scarcely takes more than a click on a Facebook icon. For the most part, this is a good thing. Anonymity is one of the scourges of online culture—a de facto institution that continues to cause a lot of people pain. Personally though, I can't help but feel like we've lost something along the way. There was a certain sublimity in typing from behind the guise of a username. It gave way to a feeling that your AIM conversations existed in some sort of permissive, alternative reality, the ideal spot to work up the nerve for swollen 3 am confessions. In 2017 there is no such thing as "IRL" anymore; your internet presence is permanently married to your day-to-day existence. Everyone on earth spends their waking hours waging wars and making peace with strangers they will never meet. It is overwhelming and insoluble, and there are moments where I wish I could get outside again.

I'm not the only person that feels this way, and there are some people working to restore the parts of the mid-aughts internet that worked. When I interviewed Jason Citron, CEO of Discord, earlier this year, he affirmed a deep appreciation for AIM, and believed that perhaps the online infrastructure might soon swing back in that direction. "When you zoom out and think about the internet and how communication is trending, there's definitely a trend to more live experiences," he said. "The internet has done so much to connect people asynchronously, so I think there's something more macro happening that Discord is taking part in. It's like we're bringing it back to how it used to be."

He's right. One of the things that's made Discord successful is how separated it feels from the rest of the internet. When you join an ultra-specific channel—for niche Hearthstone formats or fan-favorite Persona characters—it's like you're uncovering a league of obsessives that are ready to welcome you with open arms. The true solidarity of dorkiness. It's funny, but by holding back on cosmopolitan design choices (like Facebook integration or a required photo-reel), Cintron stumbled into a scheme that evokes the furtive splendor that made AIM special. This is something Nina Freeman found when she started up a Discord channel to support her growing Twitch following. "It quickly became a community, and now I have a bunch of newer online friends. I'm already cracking up at myself as I'm wondering what they look like, or what they do in real life," says Freeman. "It definitely has a similar appeal." 

If Discord doesn't quite meet your personal instant messaging standards, Citron tells me that, if enough people in the community request it, he'd consider implementing the low-res AIM chimes into the service. You know, door creak, door slam, those disruptive MIDI twinkles. "To this day, that sound still triggers my desire to hop online," he says.  

Kyle Seeley is doing something similar. Yesterday he released a piece of DLC for Emily is Away Too that reskins Steam Chat to look exactly like AIM circa 2006. He spared no expense; you can change your text color, drop in vintage, blocky emoticons, and create your own custom profile so you can tell the world that Warped Tour will never die. "It's a farewell to AIM," he says. As one gaming's foremost nostalgia artists, it'd be wrong if he didn't say goodbye.

Now the AIM generation is old enough to both intellectualize their wistfulness, and use the lessons they learned from the service to create for the today's teenagers. To facilitate affection and respect on the internet, to show them what it looks like. We were the first to taste love on the web, at a time when those feelings had no context or guidance, and I hope that AIM helped create a baseline for young people and the midnight communion with those across the screen. The liberation that comes with knowing that the internet friendships you cherish are just as valid and wonderful as you think they are—these stories matter, because they help light that path. Lord knows I needed it, and I'm sure you did too.

Luke Winkie

Contributing Writer

Luke Winkie is a freelance journalist and contributor to many publications, including PC Gamer, The New York Times, Gawker, Slate, and Mel Magazine. In between bouts of writing about Hearthstone, World of Warcraft and Twitch culture here on PC Gamer, Luke also publishes the newsletter On Posting. As a self-described "chronic poster," Luke has "spent hours deep-scrolling through surreptitious Likes tabs to uncover the root of intra-publication beef and broken down quote-tweet animosity like it’s Super Bowl tape." When he graduated from journalism school, he had no idea how bad it was going to get.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 76

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

TW: Abuse Mention

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, March 26; 9:00 PM – Jenni and Alexia's apartment.

The evening is underway. We're at Jenni's since her apartment is the closest to The United. Needless to say, our friend is well-stocked with beer for the girls' enjoyment. We ordered takeout – Chinese food, to keep things simple. The others left us about an hour ago to enjoy their own evening. We started ours by playing a few rounds of car racing games on Jenni's PlayStation. The games went on until our stomachs started growling. I think Mapi was mostly tired of Alexia beating us. It seems like she's had a bit more practice than we have. So now we're eating, and I took the opportunity to share the good news I received today.

"And so, she’s willing to take you on at her gallery?" Ale asks. "That’s crazy. Small world, huh?"

"We're not complaining," Mapi replies with her mouth full.

She swallows before continuing:

"We were starting to worry you wouldn’t be with us next year."

"Oh no. I was more worried about ending up with nothing. I don’t think I would have left anyway..."

"But is this thing certain?" Ale asks.

"Supposedly. She wants me to visit the gallery and spend a weekend there to see if it works for both of us."

"That’s cool. At least you’ll get a feel for it."

"Yeah, exactly! Plus, she’s a woman running the gallery alone, which suits me even better."

"Yeah, that’s great news," Alexia comments, though with a hint of sadness.

My remark brings about a short silence. I take a deep breath and uncross my legs, placing them on the ground. It was now or never. I mean, there wasn’t a better opportunity.

"I think I’m ready to talk to you about it, girls."

They were both focused on their little boxes of Chinese noodles before I sparked their interest. Neither could hide their surprise.

"You don’t have to," Mapi says first. "I’ve lived in silence for over a year, and I’m fine with that."

"No. Well, no, I don’t have to. But I managed to talk to Lucy about it, so I feel ready to talk to you now. I know you won’t judge me or anything like that anyway."

"That’s the last thing we’d do," Ale replies. "But like Mapi said, don’t feel obligated. Lucy knows, so it’s already a big step for you to have opened up once."

"It’s not about opening up anymore. It’s that you two are my best friends, and I want you to know what destroyed me one day."

They nod in understanding.

"It’s just that if there are two people I’m going to tell this story to, it’s you two."

"Okay," Mapi says first. "Well, if you want to know, I’ve been looking for the truth about all of this for a long time, even though I’ve come up with plenty of scenarios in my head. That piece of garbage Feli still managed to destroy my best friend."

I give a sad smile. It took me a while to understand, but I wasn’t the only one affected by my change in behavior.

"That scumbag, as you put it, abused me for almost a year," I say bluntly, without beating around the bush.

I owed it to myself to do it this way, or my resolve would have evaporated. Still, I can’t bring myself to meet their eyes. I keep my gaze fixed on my box of food, resting on my knees.

"What do you mean, abused...?" Ale murmurs.

"She got angry because of the drugs, and I paid the price... I won’t go into the details. Even Lucy doesn’t know. She ended up figuring it out after my fight with Korbin. I had completely shut down and didn’t want her to treat me at the time, until she understood what was happening."

My throat tightens at the memories resurfacing. It’s harder than I imagined. Alexia, sitting beside me, places her hand on my knee for support.

"I—I didn’t mean to push people away. I just couldn’t stand being touched or approached anymore. I feel vulnerable around people..."

"Oh my God, you poor thing... I didn’t realize it was that bad. So... she hit you?" she asks uncertainly.

I lift my head to see them looking at me with sadness. I sigh and stand up. I don’t like feeling pitied, but I knew what to expect when I started this topic. My back is turned when Mapi speaks before I can answer.

"She did more than that, didn’t she? How far did that bitch go? I mean, you were so strong before. I never would’ve imagined someone could break you like that."

A few tears escape me. I quickly wipe them away. Mapi’s the only person who can guess the full extent of what she did. No one else here knew the Ona from before. So bold and rebellious.

"She did a lot of things I regret," I whisper.

I turn around and lift my sweater to show them my scars. Their gasps fill the room. Some are burn marks, often from cigarettes. Others are knife wounds that struggled to heal properly, as I was never able to treat them. Looking back, I think some of them should have required hospital care. But I never went. It would have meant reporting Feli and going back home. I feel foolish for never doing it now.

"I’ve never seen those," Mapi admits breathlessly.

"Well, if you think about it, I haven’t undressed in front of you since I got back," I point out.

I was never shy with Mapi since she was my high school girlfriend. We used to undress and change in front of each other without any issues before all this.

"The only time you could’ve seen them was at the pool a few months ago, but you were too busy with Ingrid and Joan," I add with a small smile to lighten the mood.

"Oh yeah, that day," she replies. "But wait, you had trouble going to the pool then?" she realizes with shock.

I bite my lip and nod.

"I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t say anything because everyone was so excited. Lucy scolded me in the changing rooms when you all left. She didn’t know no one else had seen them except her... She reassured me and made me feel comfortable before joining you all."

"Oh my God! But why didn’t you say anything?"

"It’s fine, I’m not dead," I joke. "Lucy is slowly helping me feel more comfortable in my body..." I add, blushing.

She’s the first person I allowed to see me in my underwear, practically at the start of our relationship. Granted, I was in bad shape and in a tough spot because of my withdrawal, but I could have refused her help. Somehow, she managed to earn my trust quickly.

"Does she know she abused you?"

I blush even more than before. Mapi never holds back. I can’t even contradict her because we both know she’s right. I had no shame or fear before Feli.

"No," I whisper. "I told her no to avoid her pitying me. She was already worried enough about everything else."

"You can’t hide that from her," Mapi protests.

Her reaction surprises me, and I’m at a loss for words. It’s such a sensitive topic. I’m already pushing myself to talk to her about it, so telling Lucy... the person I share my bed with... is asking a lot. The worst part is that this happened frequently because of Feli’s violence. She had hormone surges she wanted to satisfy, and I was powerless. I often thanked the drugs for helping me forget half of those moments. Seeing my distress and disconnection, Ale steps in to help me.

"Stop, Mapi. This isn’t an easy thing to discuss, especially not with her girlfriend," she defends me.

"What? If I were in her shoes, I’d want to know!" Mapi retorts.

"Please don’t say that," I reply, feeling some remorse now. "I didn’t want her to pity me about this, or worse, to hold back. I wanted everything to happen at my own pace, with her help, and that’s what happened. »

Ale nods in understanding, while Mapi crosses her arms. I sigh at that.

“I was planning to tell her after our first time, but I’m afraid she might take it badly, or... I don’t know... Her reaction scares me a little.”

“She would have every reason to take it badly,” Mapi grumbles. “She would’ve reacted differently if she’d known!”

“And that’s exactly what I wanted to avoid. You know very well I hate being pitied! That’s not how she would’ve helped me!”

Mapi dramatically sighs and rolls her eyes. I understand her frustration. Mapi is the only one who knew me before all of this. She hates that I’ve become so secretive. I guess she expected me to open up at least with the woman who shares my life so she could take care of me. But this is still my choice.

“And what exactly does she know? And since when? Because if even she doesn’t know everything, I’m not sure how to help you anymore.”

“Come on, you’re exaggerating. She’s known a lot for a while. She knows I was a junkie and that I lived in abandoned places with Feli and the other addicts.”

“She knows why you ran away?” Mapi snaps with a certain bitterness.

“Yes, she knows about my dad’s death in combat, and how close we were. She also knows about the communication problems with my family, especially with my mom... Even though that’s a lot better now.”

“And she knows she was violent?”

“Yes, since Korbin, she knows. Like I said before, she’s the only one who will ever know the details of every one of my scars.”

I say this preemptively to stand my ground. I understand she’s still worried about me after hearing all of this, but she has no right to question my choices. Not about Lucy, nor about what I choose to tell her. Mapi narrows her eyes for a moment before sighing in defeat.

“Fine,” she mutters.

“Lucy has helped you a lot...”

I give a sad smile to Alexia, who seems a bit shocked. The poor thing just learned a lot all at once. I had never told her any of this before. To my surprise, she doesn’t resent me for keeping it from her, judging by the way she continues.

“I remember the first day we met. You brushed me off like never before,” she laughs. “I thought I was in for a rough year, and that we’d never be friends given the anger coming off you…”

The way I acted when I met Alexia is one of my biggest regrets. We’ve become very close since then. Alexia just wanted a friend, having never had one before, and I’m glad she can now count me as one.

“But in the end...” she continues. “Once you faced Lucy, I saw that anger disappear. I don’t know how she did it, but she really helped you work through a lot.”

My shoulders slump at this truth. She understands what my girlfriend has done for me. I nod softly to confirm.

“Yes… That’s exactly what happened. She pushed me physically and mentally with punishments… Yet she always listened and supported me. I questioned myself so many times because of her, and I started to trust her. Once she realized that, she began to rebuild me.”

“You see,” Alexia turns to Mapi. “You’re scolding her for not opening up enough… But I think Lucy already knows.”

“Why do you say that?” my best friend asks, frowning.

“Because Ona has never needed to speak for Lucy to understand that something is wrong.”

I sit at these words. If I were honest with myself, I’d say that’s exactly what I hoped for from Lucy. I pushed her away so many times when things got serious, hoping she’d figure out what I’d been through. Unfortunately, she’s never brought it up. So I don’t know if she knows.

“I’m sorry,” Mapi says. “You’re probably right, Ale. I was so jealous at first of how easily she reads you when I’m supposed to know you best… So yeah… She probably already knows, if I could figure it out.”

“I hope so,” I murmured. “I don’t want to say it out loud.”

“Do you still have trouble with people in general?” Mapi asks me.

“No... Well, school and Lucy in particular have helped me open up to the world again. I still push people away sometimes when they surprise me with touch, but it’s happening less and less. We’re working on it a lot.”

“With Lucy?”

“Yes. She’s helping me regain my confidence. In fact, I finally gave myself to her last week.”

“She’s really had a lot of patience. Kudos to her, because I would never have been able to do what she’s done in such a short time.”

“Totally,” Ale agrees. “It’s no wonder you’re so close. Even if you two hadn’t gotten together, I think you’d have maintained a strong bond that the other students wouldn’t understand.”

“Speaking of school, I forgot to tell you, but Wiegman knows,” I said.

The girls look at me without any visible reaction, taking a moment to process what I said.

“Who’s Wiegman?” Mapi responds.

“What do you mean Wiegman knows?!” Ale exclaims.

“Wiegman knows,” I repeat with a small laugh. “Wiegman is the school principal, and she knows. My management professor, who has a crush on Lucy, talked about us to Wiegman. Lucy was there to hand in her resignation letter, and she confessed. She didn’t want to lie, especially since she was about to leave anyway.”

“Wow!” Mapi exclaims. “She’s lost it!”

“But what happened? Are you two getting expelled?”

“No. We think the fact that she knows my mom helped a lot. She also took Lucy’s resignation into account. Since we’re at the end of the school year, she’s letting us finish, and I’m allowed to continue my evening classes since they’re part of my apprenticeship,” I explain with a shrug. “We just have to keep being discreet because if any student finds out, she won’t be able to do anything to stop us from getting expelled.”

“Wow!” Ale exclaims. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yep. So… Wiegman knows,” I sighed.

“Lucy really took some big risks.”

“I know. I felt bad when she told me, but it just goes to show that honesty pays off.”

“And when did all of this happen?”

“Yesterday.”

“And then you say nothing interesting happens in your life,” Mapi mutters to Ale, who bursts out laughing.

“Alright, enough about me. What about you two!? You always let me go first.”

I look at them in turn. They glance at each other, and Alexia decides to go ahead.

“Well, nothing special. Alba agreed to meet Jenni at Leah’s party. Of course, Jenni accepted, but she’s terrified,” she laughs. “She’s afraid of Alba’s reaction.”

“Your sister’s a bit of a pain,” Mapi comments.

“A bit, yeah,” she sighs. “It’s partly my fault too. I hid my relationship for way too long. I shouldn’t have.”

“True,” I agreed.

“Have you talked to Lucy about it? Are you two coming?”

I shake my head, crushing her hopes instantly.

“Sorry, but she refused. Since we’re under scrutiny with Wiegman, she really wants to wait until the end of the school year before we go public with my school friends.”

“Damn…” she sighs.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be well surrounded. Misa will be there, I imagine.”

“Yeah…”

“She’s really cool, you know. We helped each other out when you and Alba were called in. Maybe you could do the same for her that night…”

“I’ll see,” she grimaces. “I’m not sure where to place her. She came to tell me, and I quote, ‘we should get to know each other better.’”

“Who’s she? Your sister-in-law?”

“Ew, don’t call her that,” Ale replies.

I laugh heartily. It seems like things still aren’t smooth between them. I know she doesn’t really like her, but she’d be surprised.

“Come on, she’ll be a good help, trust me.”

- Yeah, well, wait. I think Alba plans to spend part of the holidays with us, like, "to make up for lost time," you know? I'm so pissed! I thought we'd finally be able to enjoy some time just the two of us!

I laugh again. I understand how she feels. It’s always like that with Lucy. We plan to be together, and then everything gets turned upside down. It's complicated with family all over the place.  

- And on top of that, you two won't be here, she adds. I heard you're leaving a week early.  

- Yeah, we're going to my grandfather's for the first week. Since we're going to Portugal, we might as well make the most of it, I replied.  

- Yeah, that's true, but once again, you won't be here to back me up, she says, pouting.  

- Either way, we wouldn't have been here. You'll have to wait until the end of the year for that.  

- Damn it, sighs Ale. It's ridiculous. It’s not like our friends would rat you out.

- Oh, you never know! Mapi surprisingly defends us. All it takes is for someone to have something against Lucy or even Ona, and boom, they're screwed.

- Yeah, mumbles Ale, not entirely convinced.

I laugh quietly to myself, but I think that’s exactly what Lucy believes too. That, and maybe the fact that she doesn’t want to get too close to her students before she leaves. I’m giving her some space for now, but once exams are over, she won’t have any more excuses. I definitely plan to introduce her to the whole gang.  

- So, Mapi, what about you? Anything new?  

- Not much. I'm selling my apartment. Preparing for my move... The school accepted my enrollment.  

- That's awesome! Ale comments.  

- Yeah, definitely a good thing. Also, my parents got in touch.  

- No way! What did they want?  

- To spend time together and reconnect, she laughs bitterly. Apparently, they wanted to check in on me and see how I was doing.  

- Ouch. Any hidden agenda?  

- No idea. I refused. I plan to spend my vacation here getting settled. I told them that and mentioned I have a girlfriend. When they started giving me grief about it, I hung up.  

- No surprise, I grimaced. They didn’t even ask how you were doing before that?  

- Nope. They started by asking how school’s going, if I’m doing well... Same old. I guess they still don’t have anyone to take over their stupid business. I wasn’t planning on seeing them again anyway. They probably thought I’d changed my mind about how I live. They still haven’t realized I’ll never be straight or take over their damn succession.  

- But what exactly do they hold against you? Ale asks calmly.  

- Well, exactly what I just said. Being a lesbian and loving engineering, which they consider a "man’s job." They would’ve preferred me to inherit the family business and start a family with a man for the succession. I’ve always refused. There’s no way I’m pretending to be someone I’m not for people who were never there for me.  

I smile sadly. She rarely talks about her family, even to me. All I know is that they’re rich, always off on business trips, and were never around. The day of her accident was the turning point for her. They couldn’t even be there for her, so she not only rejected her inheritance but also cut ties with them. I knew it was hard for her. Despite what she says, she values family a lot. I can tell when she’s with mine. She’s always said I had nothing to complain about. I find it awful that her parents want her to be someone she’s not. I’m glad she’s finally found some peace in her life thanks to Ingrid.  

- Anyway, no more news from them. I’m living my life, about to join you guys, and it’s about time. I’m really happy about that.  

- And how’s your leg?  

- It’s doing better. The pain is less frequent. But I know it’ll never fully heal. I was told that after the first surgeries.  

- Do you need another operation soon?  

- No, your mom managed to avoid that. We found other solutions. Better physios,… Anyway, they’ll never be able to fully fix it.  

- What happened, with that? Ale asks hesitantly.  

- Car accident. Wasn’t even my fault, she jokes with a laugh. A drunk driver crashed head-on into my mom and me. My knee got completely crushed. According to all the doctors, I was very lucky, if not miraculous, to have saved it.  

My heart sinks every time she talks about it. She was heading home with her mom when it happened. Mapi was the most injured since the car hit her side. The man in the other car flew through the windshield and didn’t make it. Her mom was the least hurt, with just a broken arm and a few cracked ribs. They were rushed to the hospital, especially Mapi, whose knee was shattered. Their father joined them at the hospital. What I find disgusting is that once her mom recovered, her parents didn’t stay with her. Mapi was a teenager, and legally, they shouldn’t have left her alone. But they did. They went back on business trips for days. They only visited occasionally to check on her progress. Mapi had to go through several surgeries alone, with no support. Then came the physical therapy, where they’d just drop her off at the doctors without asking if she needed help. She’s always said that the best thing her parents did for her was bringing her to Barcelona. They were advised to go to the best surgeons there. That’s when we met at school, and my mom started visiting her at the hospital since she was always alone. She’s always told me that her real family is us.  

- By the way, did you call your mom about the wedding?  

- What wedding? Ale asks.  

I blush in embarrassment. I didn’t even have time to tell her. My God, I really need to get back to reality.  

- My mom’s getting married to her partner. I called her this morning, and I agreed to be her maid of honour.  

Mapi practically explodes with joy, jumping on me. I laugh softly. I know she’s always wanted us to get along better since she’s always gotten along with my mom.  

- No way? Oh, I’m so happy! So, you’re going?  

- Of course, I roll my eyes. It’ll be after the exams. June 18th.  

- Oh no, Ale groans. You won’t even be here for my birthday!  

- Really? When’s your birthday? I ask.  

- Well… the 18th, she laughs.  

- Damn. No, we definitely won’t be here, I chuckle. We’ll probably head to Barcelona right after the exams to help with the preparations and all that. Lucy suggested it to get a break before the exam results come out.  

- Oh, that’s even better! You’ll be with me then! Can Ingrid come too?  

- My mom will probably invite her too, so yeah, of course, I laugh.  

- Well, I’m still upset. No one will be here for my birthday, Ale says, crossing her arms.  

- Oh, come on, we’ll celebrate your birthday, don’t worry.  

I say, giving her a hug. The last thing I want is to not celebrate her birthday.  

- Yeah. We’ll do it when we’re back. Maybe a night out, something with lots of drinks! It would do us good.  

- Speaking of drinks, I saw a bottle of champagne in the fridge. Anyone interested?  

- Yeah! Mapi exclaims. Go ahead, pop it open!

We laugh as Ale gets up to grab it. A glass of champagne sounds good tonight. I needed to unwind, and since Lucy is picking me up later, I don’t hesitate to have a drink or two, especially after Ale pulls out the rest of the alcohol from the other night.

Saturday, March 26; 2:50 AM - Jenni and Alexia's Apartment.

- Darling, someone murmurs to me.

I groan, burying my head into something soft, like a pillow. I recognize Lucy’s touch as she runs her hand through my hair, a little mocking laugh escaping her.

- Come on, get up. I need a little help.

I sigh contentedly, blinking my eyes open. It’s hard to keep them open, even though there’s no light in the room.

- You can stay here if you want, I hear Jenni offer.

- No, no. We’re heading home. Come on, babe, at least sit up so I can carry you.

I groan as she pulls my arms, trying to sit me up. I never know where she gets her strength, but somehow, she always manages. I have a slight headache. I definitely overdid it with the drinks tonight. I don't even know what time it is. Wrapping my arms around my girlfriend, I teasingly pull her toward me. She laughs before pressing her lips to mine.

- You’re not going to make this easy, are you?

- Nope, I grumble.

Too tired to fight back, I let my head fall onto her shoulder. She takes advantage of my state to pull me to the edge of the couch, then lifts me by holding me firmly by the thighs. My limp body betrays me, collapsing entirely against her.

- Thanks again for the evening.

- Will you be okay? Jenni asks her.

- Oh, yeah. It’s not the first time I’ve had to carry her, she jokes.

- Alright, she laughs. Be careful on your way back. Text me when you’re home.

- I will. Thanks.

I hear the door close as Lucy moves, followed by the sound of the elevator. I wait until the doors close to speak.

- You’re not mad at me? I mumble.

- Mad at you for what, baby? she whispers.

She gives me a little bounce to adjust her grip on my body. I groan softly at the jostling.

- For drinking too much, I whisper into her neck.

I’m being honest, because I know she knows. We didn’t have time to clean up the bottles, and I must reek of alcohol. I'd rather be upfront than face a scolding.

- No, she surprises me by saying. Not in this environment, where it’s safe.

A long breath of relief escapes me. She kisses my temple and finally exits when we reach the ground floor. I can feel the cold, and I realize I don’t have my jacket on.

- I’m warning you, once we get to our building, you’re walking up. You’re getting heavy, I swear.

I laugh into her neck as best I can, but I nod. I figure by the time we get there, I’ll be somewhat awake. Somehow, Lucy manages to get me into the car, and I hear the door shut before she walks around to the driver’s side. That’s when I notice my jacket is draped over my lap. I decide to put it on to stay warm.

- I love you, you know that? I say, in the middle of the drive, making my girlfriend laugh.

- Yeah, babe. I think I’m aware, she teases.

- Why are you laughing? It’s not funny. I’m being very serious! I huff.

- I’m not laughing.

- Yes, you are!

- Well, only because you’re the most adorable thing when you’re drunk. I forgot how happy you get in these moments.

- Does that mean I can drink again? I say excitedly.

- I never forbade you from drinking, she sighs.

- Yes, you did at the beginning.

- Yeah, but back then, you weren’t as responsible as you are now. And the places you frequented weren’t exactly the safest.

- Blah, blah, blah.

- Babe, she giggles. Don’t pick a fight in such a nice moment.

- Hmm, I reply, stretching. I’ll try not to, I tease.

We arrive at our building, and Lucy parks in the underground garage. This time, she doesn’t carry me up, but she still helps me stay upright and even undress me a little once we get to our apartment.

- Can I wear one of your shirts? I mumble as I collapse onto the bed.

- Of course.

I’m down to my underwear as she rummages through our closet. I take off my bra without any hesitation. Partly because I’m drunk, partly because I’ve become comfortable with Lucy since we made love.

- Here, she says, tossing me one.

I put it on quickly and slide under the covers, watching Lucy change. Once she’s done, she joins me in bed. I barely have time to snuggle up to her before I feel myself drifting off. I can still feel her lips against mine just before I fall asleep.

- Good night, my love.

- Good night, baby, I mumble back.

[bunnywrites1414]

Happy Kink-tober ~~

This years kinktober is 100% compiled of self inserts because I am a spoiled brat and this is my account :)))

I am not sorry for any of these

As always pls read the tags for EVERY SINGLE fic before you read. Don’t accidentally trigger yourself.

Day 1: Steve Harrington

Teasing- Your friends cannot take a hint and Steve doesn't seem to care

Day 2: Suna Rinatarou

Thigh Riding- What kind of jerk invites someone over and then sits on a computer game for 2 hours? Suna, that's who.

Day 3: Shota Aizawa

Oral Fixation- Y/N gets bratty without something in her mouth and Aizawa is tired of hearing her.

Day 4: Jax Teller

Daddy Kink- Y/N knows what that word does to Prince Teller, she just doesn't care

Day 5: Eddie Munson

Corruption- She is the cutest thing he's ever seen and he cannot wait to ruin her.

Day 6: Spencer Reid

Sadomasochism- Angry Dom!Spencer = Unfair punishments

Day 7: Hitoshi Shinsou

Mind control- Hitoshi's quirk is fun, when he can convince his partners to let him do it

Day 8: Johnathan Byers

Brat Taming- Johnathan is a pushover. His submissive is well aware of that. However it takes more than a pout to sway his friend Eddie

Day 9: Izuku Midoriya

Forced Orgasms- Y/N tastes like heaven and Izuku can't control himself

Day 10: Ushijima Wakatoshi

Size Kink- Ushiwaka is a big 'ol boy

Day 11: Sam Winchester

Angry Sex- Sam hates Y/N. Y/N hates Sam. Dean and Bobby think it's hilarious.

Day 12: Billy Hargrove

Costumes- Billy didn't even know Y/N was coming to this party, but he knows they're matching costumes and that her ass looks perfect in those shorts.

Day 13: Taishiro Toyomitsu (Fat Gum) ft. Kirishima

Teaching- Kirishima has some questions for his mentor and Fatgum is happy to help.

Day 14: Katsuki Bakugo

Phone Sex- Katsuki's away on a mission and Y/N can't cum without him

Day 15: Eddie Munson

Throat Training-Eddie is really good with his mouth, Y/N wants to make him feel just as good as he makes her feel, but it takes a little work.

Day 16: Kotaro Bokuto ft. Kuroo

Group Sex- Kuroo's little girlfriend is really cute and he knows it. Bokuto is a connoisseur of cute things, and Kuroo's not so bad.

Day 17: Eijiro Kirishima

Pain Play- Kirishima is a people pleaser and Y/N likes a little pain with her pleasure

Day 18: Jax Teller

Dumbification- Even 'big hot shot Scientists' need a few moments to be a little brainless.

Day 19: Amren

Blood- Amren has never had blood wraith

Day 20: Arron Hotchner ft. Spencer Reid

Pet Play- Arron forgets to mention he's bringing home a friend, and Y/N is deep in pet space when they get there

Day 21: Cassian

Primal Play - Cassian’s an animal.

Day 22: Steve Harrington ft. Eddie Munson

Degradation and Praise- Steve and Eddie balance each other very well, or at least Y/N thinks so

Day 23: Azriel Shadowsinger

Edging- 'If you hold it I'll reward you'. Y/N likes rewards.

Day 24: Spencer Reid

Bondage- Reid wants to practice his knots

Day 25: Dean Winchester

Overstimulation- Dean is cocky and Y/N thinks it's funny to push his buttons.

Day 26: Eddie Munson

Dacryphilia- Eddie teaches Y/N a thing or two about discipline and can't help but notice how pretty she looks when she's crying.

Day 27: Shota Aizawa

DILF- Aizawa knows he's old enough to be her dad, but his Nanny is perfect

Day 28: Tetsuro Kuroo

Psuedocest- He knows he shouldn't but she sounds so desperate. What kind of brother would he be if he just let his little sister suffer?

Day 29: Spencer Reid

CNC- Y/N is stuck. Like really really stuck. Her neighbor Reid agrees to help under one condition.

Day 30: Keiji Akaashi

Mutual Masturbation- Akaashi is a visual learner, but Y/N thinks he just likes to see her embarassed

Day 31: Jax Teller

Rough Sex- Jax likes to fuck after he fights, and his choice of ass has a hard time saying no to that smile.

[saturnerens]

me doing this whole thing rn bc im bored

1) WHIZZERRRRRR

2) i love all of them but if i had to choose id say mendel bc hes a freakkk

3) None theyre all perfect

4) Jason!!! Love jason sm

5) Marvin and Whizzer

6) the games i play

7) there is not One bad falsettos song im so srs

8) idk my all time fave but i love the baseball game

9) year of the child is funny as hell (listening to it as i type this) also everyone hates his parents (fucking mendels cartwheel Sends me every time)

10) what would i do is Instant mental breakdown

11) marv of course!

12) MORE WHIZZER IN ACT 2

13) ?????? Idk

14) a day in falsettoland looks super fun

15) Whizzer but Realistically id prob be like dr charlotte or something and Super realistic outcome: I wouldnt be casted Lol

16) Whizzer ofc

17) Again whizzer—(r y’all noticing a pattern) I would Loveeee to know more ab whizzers backstory

18) marvin growing up !

19) I cant sing for Shittttt

20) Andrew and Christian my fave men ever honorable mentions to everyone else tho Bc the whole cast is incredible

21) i showed my best friend TOFL and it worked soooo

22) i Love act 2 but act 1 holds a special place in my heart

23) Anything whizzer related im his #1 defender

24) kevin price rings marvins doorbell and converts him to mormonism ??? Ik yall see the vision /j

25) Marvin……….. Unfortunately

26) Whizzer and jason Ohhhh they make me die also marvin and the lesbians

27) “if i could hold you, for one hour more”

28) when marvin hits trina Ohhh i get so mad

29) that one pic of all the guys with matching jordans Yall know the one

30) falsettos is the best musical ever Yuppppperrrrr