#no matter what they actually are ridiculous

[bringbackmaes14]

My mom has her TV on in her room almost 24/7 and it's always on some news outlet or other. We talk a lot about politics and world/national/local events. And we do have a lot of varying views on a lot of things but we're both adults who are capable of saying "well we've both stated we have differing opinions and it's clear that we're actually arguing at this point and not just talking so let's put away the topic for now." But there are also other times where I'm just too overwhelmed by my own life to think about what's going on in the bigger world around me, so my mom knows to be hesitant to bring up news stuff with me (i.e. she doesn't just start talking about politics/world events with me rather she'll ask if I'm in the mindset to discuss things when she wants my opinion on something). This is all relevant.

We've always been able to talk about nearly everything from the economy to the school system to human rights to human tragedy and we've never tried to censor ourselves around each other (outside of getting too emotional with our language). But about two weeks ago when the United Healthcare CEO was assassinated, my mom, who is in her 50s, came to me and she said "Did you see that the CEO of United Healthcare got unalived?"

And I just sat there and looked at her completely confused and she was like "did you not hear about it? It's all over the news. It happened in clear view on the street." Like the problem was that I hadn't heard of the event not that my Gen-X mother had just in a real life conversation said the word "unalived".

And I told her as much. "Yes I've heard that. Why did you say 'unalived' instead of 'murdered'?

And she told me that she just thought that since I'm touchy about heavier topics sometimes (which is definitely true, that does occasionally happen) she thought it would be better to just not use the "heavy" words. I asked her if she realized, honestly, how stupid that was because regardless of the word she used, she was still talking about a murder, it didn't change the subject matter, she was only making the subject matter seem less significant and severe by changing the word to baseless internet lingo that a bunch of misguided, clout-chasing influencers spread.

She hadn't. She's doesn't use the Internet replacement words a lot, online or otherwise. This was a first. She thought this was a different situation, and a fine one to use it in, and like the above stories people shared, it's still not.

I'm allowed to say there are days where I want to avoid heavier topics because I'm overwhelmed. I'm allowed to not ever really discuss certain topics because they actually trigger me based on my own experiences. But people who are out here living their whole lives like just talking about about difficult or controversial topics, or asking questions about it, or enjoying media where it's portrayed (especially when it's actually portrayed respectfully) are being ridiculous, and they're handicapping themselves. They're never going to learn how to talk about hard things, or how to handle hard things. And honestly I feel bad for them.

Luckily, in my case, once I explained why my mom saying what she said was incredibly weird and honestly devaluing to the conversation, she backtracked and told me that (like I said above) she doesn't talk like that regularly and she has no intention to start; it's just that this was a huge news event and that day had been particularly rough for me emotionally and she wasn't sure how to approach it. So her intentions were good and I'm very lucky that she understands and also agrees that the Internet censorship language is incredibly unnecessary.

we have GOT to kill tiktok/twitter self-censorship i just witnessed a grown adult say the word “smex” out loud to our professor

[wolvietxt]

any maybe this one for Daryl too if you have the time… 👀 I love the way you write the softer side of Daryl 🥺

unexpected laughter: grumpy is having a rough day, but sunshine tells a ridiculous joke or does something silly, and to everyone’s surprise, grumpy actually laughs - loud and genuine - despite trying to stay serious

DARYL was having one of those days. everything seemed to grate on his nerves - from the way the sun beat down too hot overhead to the way everyone seemed intent on being in his space.  

he’d spent the entire morning repairing a busted cart wheel, only to find out the axle was cracked too. by noon, he’d snapped at carol for hovering, glared at rick for asking too many questions, and muttered curses under his breath when judith toddled too close and almost stepped on his tools.  

and then there was you. you’d been hovering too, always trying to help, trying to cheer him up.  

“you want water?” you’d asked earlier, your voice all chipper and light.  

“don’t need nothin’,” he’d grumbled, not even looking up.  

you weren’t fazed, though. you rarely were when it came to him, which was both impressive and mildly infuriating. you had this way of brushing off his mood like it was nothing, sticking around no matter how hard he tried to push you off.  

so when you wandered into the yard again after lunch, daryl let out a low groan. he didn’t even look up as you plopped down on the bench next to his tools.  

“you’re still mad at the world, huh?” you teased, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees.  

“ain’t mad,” he muttered, jamming the wrench onto the axle with more force than necessary.  

“you sure? ‘cause you’ve been growling at everyone like a rabid dog since breakfast.”  

he shot you a glare, but you just smiled sweetly, like his bad mood wasn’t even a blip on your radar.  

“what do you want?” he grunted, returning to his work.  

“nothing. just thought you might need a little cheering up.”  

he let out a short, humorless laugh. “don’t need cheerin’.”  

“oh, i beg to differ,” you replied, your tone light. “you’ve got that permanent scowl thing going on. you’re like a storm cloud in human form.”  

he didn’t respond, too focused on the stubborn bolt that wouldn’t budge. you watched him for a few moments, your head tilted as if you were sizing him up.  

then, out of nowhere, you asked, “hey, daryl, what do you call a deer with no eyes?”  

he froze, his brow furrowing as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “what?”  

you grinned, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “no-eye-deer!”  

his jaw tightened, and he looked back at the cart like he hadn’t even heard you.  

undeterred, you leaned a little closer. “okay, okay, i got another one. what do you call a deer with no eyes and no legs?”  

“don’t care,” he muttered, but you were already finishing the joke.  

“still no-eye-deer!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands together like it was the funniest thing in the world.  

this time, his shoulders tensed, and for a second, you thought he might actually snap. instead, he just shook his head and muttered, “you’re impossible.”  

you pouted dramatically. “c’mon, daryl, that was a good one!”  

he grunted, but you weren’t done yet. you tapped your chin like you were deep in thought, then brightened as if you’d just remembered something brilliant.  

“oh! what do you call a fake noodle?”  

he sighed loudly, wrench still in hand. “don’t.”  

“an impasta!”  

that was it. something in him snapped - not in anger, but in disbelief. he let out a short, bark-like laugh before he could stop himself, quickly clamping his mouth shut as if he could take it back.  

your jaw dropped, and you pointed at him triumphantly. “i knew it! i made you laugh!”  

“did not,” he muttered, his ears turning pink as he went back to the cart.  

“did too,” you shot back, grinning from ear to ear. “you laughed. loud and everything.”  

he shook his head, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching, like he was fighting to keep the grin off his face. “you’re an idiot.”  

“maybe,” you said with a shrug, “but i made the grumpiest man alive laugh, so i’ll take it.”  

he finally looked at you then, his expression softening despite the lingering frustration in his eyes. “you’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”  

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you replied, your smile unwavering.  

he shook his head again, but this time it was more in amusement than annoyance. “get outta here before you break somethin’.”  

“fine,” you said, standing up and brushing off your pants. “but just so you know, i’ve got plenty more where that came from.”  

“god help me,” he muttered, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips as you walked away.  

and for the rest of the day, every time he thought about that ridiculous joke, he couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that crept across his face.

ᰔ daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi, @omen-keke, @hhiggs, @iheartpeterparker3000

@withasideofmeg, @corvuscattus

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[oddyseye]

Let’s talk about translations of the Odyssey for a second, because, honestly, I’m over here sobbing over how ridiculous some of these choices are.

Every time I pick up a new translation, I hope it’ll finally capture the true grit and messiness of Odysseus, but nope, every one of them polishes him up too much, turning him into either a tragic hero or a charming rogue. Where’s the Odysseus who lies as easily as he breathes, who manipulates his way through every encounter, and who leaves a trail of ruin wherever he goes? I want the man whose brilliance is as sharp as his selfishness, whose cleverness cuts both ways — not just a hero, but a survivor who’s as flawed as he is formidable.

Anyway, I’m gonna break down the biggest mistranslations that really make me want to pull my hair out and remind everyone how different the original Greek actually is. Prepare yourselves.

Let’s start with the absolute disaster that is Telemachus and Peisistratus’ bond. Homer used the word ὁμοφροσύνη to describe their relationship, a term that’s about fucking soulmates, alright? But what do these translators do? They water it down to “just good friends” or “nice companions.” It’s about a relationship where minds and hearts are aligned — telepathic level shit, not just a handshake between two dudes. Yet these translators just gloss over the whole thing, so you get this milquetoast version of their relationship when it’s actually so much more.

Homer says: "ὁμοφροσύνησιν ἐνὶ καρδίᾳ ἐνθα καὶ ἄλλων οὐδὲν ἐπέλθομεν" ("In like-mindedness of heart, where no other man could compare.") So, Telemachus sees Peisistratus as someone he’s totally aligned with, in a way that’s almost romantic in its depth. ὁμοφροσύνη is usually used for romantic couples most often.

Then, we’ve got Odysseus and Calypso, which — oh my god, don’t even get me started on this absolute trainwreck of a translation. The term ἀνάγκῃ is used when Homer talks about Odysseus’ “relationship” with Calypso, but translators somehow miss the force behind the word. It doesn’t just mean “necessity” like they’d have you think. It means force, violence, and distress. When Odysseus is on Calypso’s island, stuck there with her, it’s not this peaceful love story where Odysseus is some willing lover. It’s a prison. There’s no choice, and no one’s riding off into the sunset together. But translations just gloss over this desperation and make it sound so much more peaceful and comfortable than it ever was. It’s forced captivity, and the use of ἀνάγκῃ screams that: “��νθα μὲν ἀμφ᾽ ἀνάγκῃ, τῇ δὲ θεὰ ἐρῶσά μιν ἔσχε.” (“There he stayed out of necessity, for the goddess, in her love, held him there.”).

Homer uses the same word when Odysseus describes his time with Circe: “ἀλλ᾽ ἔμεν᾽ ἐν σπέσσι λαῶν ἀνάγκῃ.” (“But I stayed in her halls by necessity.”). Again, ἀνάγκῃ shows that Odysseus's relationship with Circe is dictated by forces beyond his control. His connection to her isn’t out of love or desire, but out of a divine obligation, a situation where choice is completely stripped away. It’s not love; it’s divine manipulation. So much for romantic freedom!

And let’s not forget how Homer actually portrays the suitors and their reaction to Antinous’ violence. After Antinous, in his full rage, decides to throw a chair at disguised Odysseus, other suitors chime in, disapproving of his actions. They say things like “ἀργὸς εἶναι,” which roughly translates to “you’re acting cowardly,” and “ἀτασθαλία,” meaning “reckless.” They’re still on the same side, sure, but they can’t quite get behind the utter savagery of his actions, and it’s maddening how this detail is often glossed over in some translations. They make it sound like they were all in on the violence, but in the original text, these suitors are not all cut from the same brutal cloth, no matter how much some translators want to make them seem like one big mob.

Homer uses the word οἰκέτες to refer to the people in Odysseus' house. "οἰκέτες" means slaves, people who are literally owned by the household. But oh, what happens in the translations? We get “maids” and “servants,” as if these slaves were just there because they wanted to be, doing chores like it was a normal job. But no, they’re not “maids,” and they sure as hell aren't "servants" in the modern sense. These people have no freedom — they belong to Odysseus. The translation of οἰκέτες as "maids" completely erases the brutality of the system that Homer is talking about.

Interestingly, Telemachus, who is often portrayed as rude or immature, calls these individuals “servants” or "maids" in a more respectful manner. This is the same guy who can barely get his act together most of the time, but here he is, calling the οἰκέτες — slaves, remember — not just slaves but “ἄνδρες ἰκέτες,” which translates to "men-servants" or “butlers.” Like, hello, Telemachus! For once, he’s actually treating them like people instead of just the property that they are in Homer’s original telling. Respectful? Who knew?

And lastly, let’s talk about Penelope. Odysseus, when he finally speaks to her, he says: "ἀλλὰ μὴ ἐπεὶ καὶ σὺ μὲν ἔμπεδος ἐν οἴκῳ, ἔτλησαν δ’ ἐμαὶ ἄλγεα." ("But you, steadfast in your home, endured my sorrows."). Odysseus sees Penelope as the rock, the one who has suffered patiently in his absence. Unlike the goddesses, she’s his equal in suffering, not a forced relationship due to divine will. He longs for her, and her presence stands in stark contrast to the chaotic, imposed relationships he’s had with Circe and Calypso. Penelope is the constant, the one Odysseus has chosen — no divine manipulation, just pure, enduring love.

Anyway, all of this goes to show that translations can twist what Homer was actually trying to say — especially when it comes to the relationships in the story. It’s frustrating to see these critical, subtle moments get flattened into bland, palatable phrases. Maybe if they spent less time trying to make everything sound "noble" and more time actually getting at the grit of what Homer wrote, we wouldn’t have to deal with these watered-down, emotionless versions of The Odyssey that everyone is so obsessed with.

[thewertsearch]

CG: YOU WON'T TALK TO FUTURE KARKAT UNTIL I JUMP THROUGH YOUR FUCKING PASSWORD HOOPS AND BECOME HIM EVENTUALLY CG: BUT YOU'LL TALK TO FUTURE KANAYA JUST LIKE THAT. DOUBLE STANDARD ANYBODY??? JADE SAYS YES PLEASE. GG: you are so ridiculous, i have kanaya using the same password system as you

And she has no problem respecting it, either - but that makes perfect sense for Kanaya. As a fellow Space girl, she's probably just as sick of Time bullshit as Jade is.

CG: I HAVE STUFF TO ATTEND TO HERE. MY TEAM IS FALLING APART. CG: AND I CAN'T FIND GAMZEE ANYWHERE. I'M WORRIED HE MIGHT HAVE WANDERED OFF SOMEWHERE AND GOT HURT. GG: aw GG: well… GG: youll find him

Ouch.

See, this is why it’s hard to blame Vriska for being evasive about Dad. Jade’s in the same position here, and Karkat does ‘deserve’ to know, in some abstract sense – but what can she really say?

If she tells him about Gamzee now, the timeline would doom itself – and even if it didn’t, it wouldn’t actually help Karkat’s situation. He’d just feel even more helpless than he already does, powerless to prevent Gamzee’s inevitable breakdown.

GG: she says youre important to consult on the matter, but the you from her time is too busy CG: BUSY WITH WHAT?

...don’t worry about it.

GG: she is opening a memo

Oh, now this is a trio with some serious comedic potential.

Karkat’s angry, Kanaya’s calm, and Jade can match energy with them both. Bring it on!

It’s a little hard to click on this last image; I kept getting inadvertently sent back to Rose and Dave’s conversation.

Anyway, let’s catch up with Team Vagabond.

[cryingpariah]

Something about Zoro being one of the most misunderstood and mischaracterized characters in One Piece is funny (not haha funny, funny sad) to me because?? That’s literally how his introduction starts?? With people misunderstanding him and thinking he’s some big, monstrous demon who kills with cause and cannot be trusted or tamed.

Meanwhile the actual Zoro is a driven guy who is often both literally and figuratively directionless in life and found his goals in life through good people (first Kuina and then Luffy). He's tied up in the Marine base not due to those actual crimes he commuted (well not inherently anyway) but because he ‘disrespected’ a Captain's son and stood up for a little girl. He accepts the challenge they present to him and because Zoro himself is a guy that puts his money where his mouth is he assumes the Marines will uphold their end of the deal and let him go (note the actual shock when Koby tells him the truth)

He joins Luffy's crew but also outright says he’s not gonna let his goal take second place to Luffy or anyone else's for that matter, he bears the weight of two people's dreams, his heart isn’t going to be swayed by some pirate.

Speaking of Kuina, her impact and influence on Zoro's life isn’t talked about enough for my liking. She was Zoro's first friend, his first rival, his first goal. He looked up to her so much and his reaction to her passing cracks my heart in half every time because you can seem him just..go numb. Kuina, dead? Kuina, the strongest person he knows, gone? Kuina, who swore to him just yesterday they’d race to the top of the world together, doesn’t exist anymore. His blank face only cracking within the privacy of his sensei before he begs. He begs on his knees, tears streaming down his face please please please let me take Kuina's sword with me. Let me take our dream to a high neither of us could imagine. I won’t let her name die here.

On top of gaining the Wado Ichimonji that day Zoro also gained…fear. Not of death, well at the very least not his own, he gained his fear of not being enough. Kuina kicked his ass every way a person could and still died, what could someone like him do? So he trains…and trains…and trains some more. Overly, obsessively, constantly telling himself he’s not enough, he’s weak, he can’t protect anyone like this and everyone's death would be on him.

As for Zoro being cold and stoic that’s just…not completely true? He’s not stone, he can be excited or sad or angry just as much as most characters he just sucks at showing it canonically (Kuina thinks he hates her before their final fight after all). Sure he’s not as forthcoming about it as some of the other Strawhats but Zoro's more of an action guy anyway, he'll show his love with his protection and unwavering faith.

In conclusion, Zoro is a ridiculously stubborn, incredibly loyal, mildly emotionally constipated, do what you say/say what you mean kinda guy.

(Also that whole ‘Zoro would kill the whole crew if Luffy asked him to’ thing? Top ten stupidest things I’ve ever heard from the fandom and that’s saying a lot. He’s loyal not brainless and heartless guys if Luffy asked him to do that, he would never but I digress, Zoro would square the fuck up with him so fast. DPMO.)

[tateypots]

Save Me A Dance

18+ MDNI

Pairing: Jackson Joel x f!reader

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: Next parts of Collared and To Keep You Safe are coming along nicely, should hopefully have those out next week. Here is something soft and sweet for Christmas Eve (it’s not set at Christmas but never mind).

This is the same pair as To Keep You Safe (Part 1 is here) but can be read as a standalone.

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates and to everyone who doesn’t, I wish you peace and happiness.

Summary: Your patrol partner tells you to save him a dance at the Harvest Festival party.

Warnings: Misogyny (not from Joel), feelings of panic, mutual pining, idiots in love, sexual thoughts, fluff.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Your fingers played absentmindedly with the skirt of your dress. The material so soft and luxurious, worlds away from the ever practical jeans, shirt and boots you typically donned. You felt self-conscious and ridiculous. You’d only agreed to wear it because Maria had begged you to, telling you how great it looked on you. You felt people staring at you and it made you uneasy, even if it was just because it took them a while to recognise you in this infernal dress, your hair loose down your back instead of semi-tamed into a messy braid as usual.

The Jackson harvest celebration was in full swing, the whole town seemingly crammed into the decorated hall. The whole town except the one person you actually wanted to see. Joel, your patrol partner had told you he would be coming, even told you to save him a dance.

This was the first large gathering you had dared to attend since you had arrived in Jackson and it had you on edge. Still not fully out of the habit of needing to be hyper vigilant in all situations, still not entirely believing you were safe. You needed Joel’s presence to calm you. You knew he would have your back no matter what, just like you would have his. You had formed a tight bond in the 6 months since you became his patrol partner. He was one of the few people in town you felt truly comfortable with.

You tried your best to relax, made small talk with your neighbours and acquaintances. No one asked you to dance. You had broken up with your last boyfriend Glenn not long after your arrival and in the time since not one of the single men in Jackson had even glanced your way. And while you weren’t exactly interested in any of them you’d be lying if you said their collective rejection of you as a potential partner didn’t sting just a little, especially in a town with such limited options.

But truthfully you weren’t lonely. Your friendship with Joel was precious to you. He had taught you so much in your time together, and although he could be gruff and brash and impatient at times you knew he cared deeply for those he loved. That he would risk life and limb for anyone in this town, that he had done so on many occasions. That he also had a playful side, buried beneath his menacing exterior. It hadn’t taken you long to slip into an easy camaraderie and from there the roots of friendship had grown strong and deep and now you were a permanent fixture in his life, spending much of your time within the walls with him, Ellie, Tommy and Maria. You had tried to fight the intrusive thoughts that whispered your relationship with Joel could be more than friendship. He was so handsome, so capable, he could have his pick of anyone in Jackson. Half the women in town (and some of the men) were mooning after him. You couldn’t compete with them. And you couldn’t risk losing him by admitting to a stupid crush. So you bottled it up and tried to focus on being his friend, pretending it wasn’t getting harder and harder to ignore.

You were starting to feel overwhelmed, the noise of the music and chatter overlapping, the jostling of bodies against you and the stifling heat in the room leaving you dizzy as your breaths started to become laboured, panic beginning to set in. You stumbled your way to the door, desperate for some fresh air, quiet and space. The cool night air was welcome as you stumbled out into the night, easing some of the restrictive tension you felt around your lungs. You braced yourself against the wall of the building, leaning down with your hands on your knees and taking deep steadying breaths. Where the hell was Joel?!

_____________________________________________

Pacing the floor of his bedroom, Joel was in turmoil. Had been for the last few weeks, since that day on patrol when you’d found an entire stash of medical supplies locked in a storage facility on the outskirts of a nearby town. Needles, syringes, pain meds, bandages and the holy grail, antibiotics, you’d hit the motherlode. Packing everything up and loading the horses had meant your return to Jackson was later than expected, and as you’d neared home you’d turned to him, giddy with the success of the day, the most beautiful smile adorning your face and bathed in the golden light of the sunset. You were breathtaking. Finally spotting the gates come into view you urged your horse into a canter with a laugh, shouting behind you, “keep up old man, lots to unload when we get home,” failing to notice his dumbstruck expression.

He had tried to convince himself that it was just the high from finding those life saving supplies. That he didn’t think of you that way. And he almost had himself convinced until the next time he saw you. Covered in sweat and hay and sawdust from mucking out at the stables, your cheeks flushed with exertion and he thought he’d never seen anyone so beautiful. He was fucked. He didn’t understand why this was happening now. You’d been friends for months and he’d never thought of you like that before. You were far too good for him. Far too precious to him to risk losing you altogether if you found out the depraved thoughts he was having about you. About your body naked and writhing under his, of the noises he could coax out of you, the way you would squeeze his cock as you came apart around him. It was as if that one sun kissed moment had unlocked something in his brain that he could not contain now that that it was free. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t bear the thought of cutting himself off from you. And there was no way you could possibly reciprocate and he couldn’t face losing you

So he tried his best to bury it, carry on as normal, pretend he wasn’t drowning in desire for you. But today, he’d opened his stupid mouth and put his foot right in it. Telling you to save him a dance, like there was any chance he could be that close to you, have you in his arms and ever let you go again. So yeah he was fucked. He was also very late. He knew you’d been nervous about going, that you still struggled to be around large groups. And it was the thought of letting you down, you having to face it alone that finally propelled him out of his front door.

_____________________________________________

You had finally managed to get your breathing under control but your heart was still racing. Leaning back fully against the wall you closed your eyes and tried to calm down. You heard the door open and swing shut.

“Well look who it is.”

Ugh. “Hi Glenn.”

“What’s the matter princess, not having fun?”

“Just getting some air.”

He’d sauntered over to you, leaning his arm against the wall next to you. “That’s a pretty dress princess, who are you getting all dolled up for hm?”

You rolled your eyes, “no one.”

He let out a little chuckle, “that’s right I forgot. No one wants you do they? And it’s going to take more than a little dress to convince them otherwise. I did warn you princess.”

“Fuck off Glenn.” You pushed yourself off the wall, even the overwhelming crowd inside being more appealing than spending any more time with this asshole. His hand shot out and grabbed you by the bicep in a bruising grip. “Don’t you-“

“Is there a problem here?” Joel’s voiced washed over you, his presence soothing your frayed nerves and calming your pounding heart. Glenn dropped your arm and stepped back as Joel sauntered up behind you, his hand coming to rest lightly between your waist and hip. At his touch you visibly relaxed, the tension in your body seeping out of you and dissipating into the quiet night. Glenn clocked it immediately.

“Thought a woman like you had no need of a knight in shining armour,” he snarked at you.

“She ain’t the one who needed saving Glenn. Didn’t want her breaking your wrist, I’ve seen her do worse to men for less out on patrol and I’m too old and tired to be picking up extra patrol shifts cos you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Now are we done here or do I need to go and tell Maria that you’re hassling women outside the dance hall?”

“We’re done,” he sneered, turning on his heel and stomping back through the door into the hall, slamming it behind him for good measure.

“What the hell did you ever see in him?”

“I was lonely and he was there,” you only half joked.

Joel turned you so you were facing him, his hands coming to settle on your shoulders, “I heard what he said to you. What did he mean he warned you no one would want you?”

Your arms instinctively wrapped around your middle and your gaze fixed on the ground, unable to look at him. You’d never discussed your break up with anyone, it coming so soon after your arrival in Jackson that you didn’t have anyone to confide in at the time. And by the time you and Joel had built a friendship it was old news and never brought up.

“Um, well, you know we broke up the day of the patrol trials,” you spotted Joel nodding in your periphery so you continued, “well, I guess some of the other guys made some comments while we were out and we got into a fight about it when we got back. He said I’d shown him up, made him look weak by being better than him. Told me that men want a woman who needs them to look after and protect them and if I didn’t turn down patrol and take a job in town instead he’d break up with me. That if he did I’d be alone forever because none of the other men here would be interested in having a girlfriend who emasculated them.”

He jostled your shoulders slightly, trying to coax you into looking at him, “that’s absolute nonsense sweetheart.”

You huffed a laugh, “it’s not though, he was right. It’s been 6 months and no one else has shown any interest.”

“What do you mean?”

“Joel, what do you mean, what do I mean?! You know I’ve not been on any dates since I got here, I spend all my time with you and Ellie!”

“Well yeah I knew you hadn’t been on any dates but figured you’d just been turning guys down.”

“Well I haven’t, no one has asked, most of the guys won’t even stick around long enough to have a conversation with me,” you groaned at him, your eyes squeezing shut, the mortification at discussing your undesirability with the one person you wanted to find you desirable burning through you. This night was turning out so much worse than you thought it would. “It’s fine ok, I’m not interested in any of them anyway, it just annoys me when Glenn is right.”

“Honey Glenn ain’t right,” he squeezes your shoulders before sliding his hands down to take hold of yours, “please look at me.”

You let out a deep sigh and look up at him, expecting to see pity written all over his face, instead he looks…sheepish. It’s his turn to sigh now, “I think it might be my fault. I know for a fact that there are plenty of guys here who would be interested in taking you out,” you open your mouth to protest but he shushes you and continues, “I was in the Bison with Tommy, maybe a month after we were first paired for patrol. I overheard some of the guys talking about you, arguing over who would get to be the first to ask you out. A couple of the guys started making crude comments so I stepped in, gave em’ what for, told em’ that you deserved more respect than that. One of em’ kept going, kept sayin’ things he shouldn’t so…so I punched him. Couple o’ times,” he swallowed, hanging his head, “I told em’ if I heard they’d even looked at you the wrong way they’d have to answer to me. But I swear I never meant for them to stay away from you completely, just wanted them to treat you with respect. I’m so, so sorry sweetheart.”

He was so angry with himself. He’d not even thought about it since, never imagining it would lead to you feeling so unwanted and unhappy. Had no idea that Glenn had planted that ugly seed in your head. That his own actions had helped water and tend it allowing it grow and wrap it’s prickly vines around your mind. He braced himself for your anger at his confession, for you to shout at him and tell him to stay away from you. So when you let out a melodic little giggle, his head snapped up in surprise. You had to bite your lip to contain further laughter at the look on his face, your heart so much lighter now. You weren’t completely unwanted and rejected, Joel had stood up for you and perhaps most importantly, Glenn had been wrong.

“Thank you for looking out for me,” you whisper to him, standing on your tip toes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, missing the flush that crept across his face in the dim lighting.

“I can talk to the guys, set things straight,” he tells you. The thought of seeing you with someone else left him nauseous but he’d do anything if it made you happy.

You shake your head at him, giving his hands a gentle squeeze, “I meant what I said Joel, I’m not interested in any of them.”

Your wording dances round his brain. In any of them. His heart was beating so fast in his chest he couldn’t make out the individual beats. What if he’s reading this wrong? You’re so close it clouds his senses, lost in you as you look up at him with soft eyes and a gentle little smile.

Without a word he moves towards the door of the hall pulling you with him. You follow him easily with no resistance. Once inside he heads straight for the dancefloor just as the band starts a new song. He pulls you into him, one of his hands still cradling yours as his other settles on the small of your back. He starts to sway you side to side, his eyes never leaving yours as the lyrics start to float through the room.

“Wise men say,

Only fools rush in,

But I can’t help falling in love with you.”

The hand on your back squeezes you tighter, trying to pull you in closer despite there being not a shred of light between your bodies already. Before he even fully realises what he’s doing he’s planting a lingering kiss on your forehead. He waits for you to pull away, for you to tell him he’s got the wrong idea. But instead he feels you let out a deep sigh as your head drops forward onto his chest, eyes closed and your face the picture of contentment. You turn your head slightly to press a little kiss right over his heart before settling your cheek against his chest once more.

“Take my hand,

Take my whole life too,

For I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

He was right. He’ll never be able to let you go. But he doesn’t feel afraid like he thought he would. Because the feel of you against him is right. Feels safe and comforting but at the same time exciting and exhilarating. Because he recognises the feeling that you bring with you now. The feeling that tore down his walls faster than any other person had. That within a few patrol shifts had him sharing his past, his losses, his fears with you like he’d known you his whole life. That brightened his day whenever he knew you would be around.

Home. You felt like home and you always had.

He’d been deluding himself that he’d only recently developed these feelings. The vision of you wrapped in the golden glow of the sunset was just the first time he admitted it to himself. He should have realised the day he knocked two of Dave’s teeth out for being disrespectful about you. He should have realised every time his heart sank when it was time for you to leave after dinner, how his pulse quickened every time he made you laugh.

“Like a river flows,

Surely to the sea,

Darling, so it goes,

Some things are meant to be.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest. He gave you the softest smile that had you melting further into him. Safe. You felt safe at last, the heat from his large hand splayed over your back warming you like a security blanket. You forgot about everything else. About the dangers outside the walls. About Glenn. About all the things you had lost and all the hopes you had given up on. This was exactly where you were supposed to be. Wrapped up in Joel’s arms. And it didn’t matter to you that this was a very public affair, the whole town gathered round, eyeing the pair of you. Tommy and Ellie giddy with excitement, knowing smiles on their faces, relieved you had both finally come to your senses. The town gossips trying to ascertain how they had not seen this coming. Your ex-boyfriend glowering at the two of you on one side of the room and Joel’s ex-girlfriend doing the same on the other. Because it wasn’t just physical safety Joel offered, you were more than capable of taking care of yourself on that front. It was emotional. He knew you better than anyone. Never made you feel self-conscious about the goofier sides of your personality, never ridiculed you for fears and tendencies you knew were irrational. Never made you feel bad for being able to take care of yourself or asked you to make yourself lesser for his comfort. He’d always accepted you as you were, warts and all. You knew he’d protect you with everything he had and you would do the same for him. So no one else’s opinion mattered.

“Take my hand,

Take my whole life too,

For I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

The song ends but Joel doesn’t release you from his hold, his hand remaining steady on your back as he brings the other to gently cup your cheek as his forehead falls to rest against yours. Your eyes drift close and your head turns in his hand to place a soft kiss on his palm.

You twine your arms around his neck and collapse into his chest once again, listening to the steady but rapid beat of his heart. Both of you had completely zoned out the noise of the dance carrying on around you so it is a shock when you feel yourselves being jostled by others on the crowded dancefloor. Snapping back to reality he feels rather than hears you giggling against his chest. He’s all at once overjoyed to feel you against him and pissed that it’s so loud inside the hall that he missed the sound of your laugh. He takes your hand in his and pulls you out into the night.

You don’t even question it as he starts leading you back to his house, you’d follow him anywhere. No words are passed between the two of you as you continue to bask in the high of having Joel’s arms around you.

He keeps waiting for you to come to your senses, to realise you don’t want a miserable old man like him and his heart breaks when you tug on his arm to stop him once you reach the top of Rancher Street. This is it. He braces himself. But instead of pulling away you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tip toes to reach up and push your lips against his, your tongue swiping at his bottom lip. He immediately grants you access to his mouth, pulling you in close to him, one hand on your back and the other cradling the back of your head. Your kiss is passionate and frantic, you pour everything into it, laying yourself bare for him, and he answers in kind.

When you break the kiss, panting for air you sink back onto your heels and your hands trail to his chest.

“Sorry, couldn’t wait any longer,” you confess to him.

“Don’ need to apologise sweet girl. These lips belong to you, can have em’ whenever you want.”

You bite your lip and smirk up at him, “just your lips?”

“Greedy girl,” he growls out, dropping his hand to pull you closer to him by your ass cheek, squeezing the fleshy globe for good measure making you giggle, “all o’ me darlin’, I’m all yours.”

“And I’m all yours.”

“Good,” he smirks at you. You let out a shriek as he bends to hoist you over his shoulder before striding purposely towards his house. “Joel, what are you doing?!” you chuckle at him.

“No more distractions baby, I need to look over what’s mine.”

[ladyluscinia]

The thing about the UHC shooting is Brian Thompson was killed for being arguably the purest embodiment of the private health insurance system that has caused unfathomable amounts of suffering and death for normal US citizens. He lived that. He encouraged that. He did not give a fuck no matter how many people attest "he was a nice guy." His tenure as CEO was marked by ramping up denials in increasingly shady ways and bringing in lots of blood money to make that profit line go up. And just to really drive home the evil exploitation aspect, we can't ignore the fact that abusive health insurance practices are something that you can't combat on an individual level.

The average American cannot opt out of health insurance, because companies like UHC have made being uninsured into a cruel and unusual punishment. Being insured (especially under UHC) still results in ridiculous medical expenses and lack of care. Most people have basically no say over who their coverage comes from or what kind of plan it is, since it's through their employer. Finding a good doctor who will say "you need this treatment" does not guarantee treatment. Government representatives have broadly abdicated responsibility to try and fix this situation, and half of them in fact would like to make it worse as quickly as possible. You can't vote for a better system, or boycott, or try to find a better option to deny the bad ones your money, or even challenge a blatantly flawed denial without a huge obfuscating headache that you probably lose anyway.

No fucking wonder the general public is responding to the killing with general apathy or discussing how little sympathy they have for a victim who did so much evil.

No fucking wonder someone shot him.

And then almost the entire government and media response to this very valid anger has been tripping over themselves to make it very clear that this is NOT how we deal with these kinds of problems in a civilized society. Murder is bad. He had a family. Which given the way they've gone about it - sparing no expense on their manhunt, balking from discussing how the system has eliminated the "civilized" means of dissent, misquoting people in headlines to pretend no one else is discussing it, overcharging Luigi with terrorism while treating him like the worst criminal to ever exist, treating Briana Boston as a copycat for being angry on a phone call - actually just really efficiently conveys a different but far more honest message:

The lives of people like Brian Thompson are worth infinitely more than the lives of you and me. Get fucked, I guess.

[sepublic]

IDW Transformers’ take on the war and the origins of the Decepticons was one of those things that was rly thoughtful and interesting to read as a kid (so as the target demographic I guess lol) only as an adult to have some rly troubling implications like the ones you pointed out. I was EXTREMELY relieved that TF One swapped it back so that the Autobots are the low-class miners and the Decepticons were the military (closer to the original cartoon anyway) while still using the IDW comics as inspiration in other ways.

Transformers One is such a strange case for me because on the one hand, it's propaganda. I'm sorry but it's transparently propaganda, it's executives embracing IDW's attempt at "maturity" that well-intentioned or not, inevitably paints the revolutionaries as villains by having them arbitrarily blow up an orphanage, because we gotta demonize revolutionaries who use violence.

We gotta warn kids of the dangers of the violent revolution, because revolution is only permitted if peaceful! Let's just ignore what we were taught about the American Revolution... Seriously, look at the elites' response to Brian Thompson's assassination!

That being said. This is like 95% speculation. But there are clear differences between IDW and Transformers One. So to me, personally, it feels like the writers —Eric Pearson, Andrew Barrer, and Gabriel Ferrari— were aware of the issues of the IDW premise. They were given a basic outline by executives. And so they opted to smooth over the issues as much as they could, work with it, while still being stuck with that basic problem at the end of the day.

So as you've said, I appreciate Orion and D-16 being working-class bots, that they're both coming from the same place. I appreciate the framing of Orion's opposition coming from the concept of Anti-Death Penalty, that no government should have the power to execute people. I appreciate the implications of D-16 siding with disgruntled military soldiers, whose only idea of fixing society is to destroy enemies.

There's something to be said about people who fantasize purely on committing violence, without any of the actual work of rebuilding and keeping things running! That's why Orion's rebellion consists of his fellow miners. I can see the implication, that even if D-16 hadn't gone off, there would inevitably be friction between the High Guard's jingoism and the civilians when Orion reformats things, and bans the death penalty.

...But again, again! D-16 is a black man. Not literally but he's voiced by Brian Tyree Henry, anyone can hear his voice. And his chanting of "Rise up" is juxtaposed with Orion Pax, who is voiced by white MCU star Chris Hemsworth. It feels ridiculous how the movie bends over backwards to paint D-16 as evil with shots of civilians running away from the convenient collateral of his shots, but nothing like that is ever shown with our protagonists and their damage!

B slicing up other Cybertronians is treated as a gag, but Sentinel's life and death matters more than his guards' which is uh. A weird way to frame things. I guess maybe it's because D-16 is doing it out of "reckless anger" whereas B isn't trying to...? But ultimately, the violence of our protagonists is meant to be framed as out of strict necessity, which is something I have to acknowledge.

I can't say for sure what Pearson, Barrer, and Ferrari were thinking. I appreciate Transformers One for smoothing out the edges. But I can't help but see D-16 as a pastiche of BLM activists, of the UHC shooter, because he's willing to be angry and violent towards his oppressors. He's a black man who gets branded and his violence is treated as exceptional and unique because of his anger, meanwhile B's kills are a gag.

There's an irony in that Sentinel's higher-class life is treasured by the narrative, but the lives of his comparatively lower-class bodyguards are worth nothing. The pervasiveness, it felt insidious; It genuinely kept me from enjoying the final battle between Optimus and Megatron, how the narrative wants to be triumphant but the dark undertone can’t be ignored. Call me a buzzkill.

I know people think this sort of trope is meant to be 'nuanced', that it makes for a more 'interesting' villain, one you can relate to and sympathize with. See yourself in. But in the end, you can only go so far in "reclaiming" a stereotype. You can't be in utter denial of the subtext and intention behind it. You can't claim this is actually good writing, I thought we were liking these villains out of spite, not in support of a narrative we think is secretly on our side too!

That executives need a revolution story where the ultimate villain who causes even more violence in the long run is, GASP, a revolutionary who shows people like them no mercy, is telling. There can only be a revolution in media if it shows the elite being deliberately spared at all costs, even to the point of Orion sacrificing his own life (Even if for D-16’s soul), while their own workers like those bodyguards are just fodder.

G1 was not the pinnacle of Leftist media but it was also inoffensive and knew what it was. This is… different.

[stupidlittlespirit]

opinion: how many edges does it take to drive ford crazy and make him beg? i think one edge in he's either whining but not begging or he doesn't realize exactly what's happening and thinks it's a cruel joke like "haha okay very funny but seriously now,". three in he realizes he's fucked. but when does he start to *beg*?

man uh idk I think he'd actually get pissy after a couple and then....

because it's obviously so easy to get a rise from him, you'd end up pushing and pushing. So, probably like 3 or 4 to actually start seeing him lose his cool?

It would only be gentle to start with because I don't think he likes letting other people see that they're getting to him, no matter the circumstance, so to start with it would be more of a: "we're not doing this right now," to a "please, come on, don't be silly about this, this is ridiculous", into "you're being ridiculous, you're doing this to annoy me on purpose," that then turns into bargaining "you know you don't want this to go on for any longer, I know you want this just as much", to full on "please please please pleaseeeee"

fuckin Ford "5 stages of grief gooner" Pines

[its-crowning]

Something tells me you would like urethral births(a draft if you don't mind!): Boys can't get pregnant. Or so you thought. You didn't have the anatomy to be and you were just developing a gut....then why did you feel the compulsion to hide? Why did you feel this dread deep in your stomach that spiked whenever your stomach "twitched"? Or the concerning thought that kept flashing in the back of your mind of that horror scene with the alien bursting out of that woman's stomach? It was ridiculous. You pushed all that deep down. Nothing could or would happen. That's what you told yourself until you woke up abruptly one night, dick swollen and aching. You struggled to get up and waddle to the bathroom and flicked the light on. Jesus Christ. You pulled down your underwear and you just stared at how bright red your dick was, four times its normal size. What the fuck! You had to rush to the hospital. You had to. But you couldn't budge. Instead you found yourself squatting down. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck! is all that your mind could process as the ache deep inside you, pushing you apart spread further and your shaft kept increasing in size. You were starting to freak that it would rip open. Why couldn't you fucking move? Shock must have set in because you were far too removed to notice that you were bearing down. But you looked up at yourself in the mirror once again and then it clicked. You were giving birth. Giving birth to something, maybe a baby. But that didn't matter now, all you knew is you had to get it the fuck out. Seeing as you couldn't do anything else, you widened your stance and bore down harder, ignoring the shrieking nerves between your legs. You were not made with the anatomy for this. This had to be worse than what most people had to go through, because they didn't have to push through their clits. But somehow you were the medical marvel, the first person ever to give a urethral birth. Gritting your teeth, you reached to tenderly pick your penis. It could only go up so far without meeting a solid resistance at its base. You massaged it and whispered apologies, it would be fucking wrecked after this. You dropped your dick and suddenly gasped, grappling for something hang on to as a...was that a contraction? Whatever the fuck it was zapped the strength out from your legs. Sobbing, all you could do was cling to the towel holder and push with the littlest strength left. It felt like hours later when something split your glans open, tufts of something sprouting out. Shakily you reached back down toward your penis and carefully inspected your slit with your fingers...that felt like hair. No, you weren't ready. This wasn't happening- and then a scream ripped itself from your throat as your slit was ripped wider to allow the thing out. Panting, you thought that maybe this was meant to be. There was nothing more pathetic than you right now, weeping and pushing with blood and some unknown fluid everywhere on a cold bathroom floor. That this is what you deserved. You did this to yourself, you hid it for so long and now there was no one here to help you.

holy shit anon…

i’m actually usually not into urethral birth but you might have just shown me the light. usually it’s a bit too cock-explosion-y for me to get horny about it, but i liked the way this guy’s labor means his cock gets large and warped. the part where he’s rubbing it and apologizing to it…he can already feel the baby’s head at the base, heavy and unyielding…i can only imagine how hard pushing something through a penis would be, especially a baby.

this is good. i love how ashamed and scared he is. if you revisit this draft, please give us more details about his belly—I’m so curious 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[goodluckclove]

Are You A Video Gamer??? (Looking for Beta Testers)

Okay so if you've known me for some time you might've heard I am married to someone who is, among many other things, a really cool and capable indie game developer. My wife Riley has finally declared themselves in beta for their dice-based rougelike Astragali, and they could really use some more beta testers to get it to a solid finished product.

For those unfamiliar, a rougelike is a style of game built upon procedurally-generated levels that make it so every run is fresh. You die a lot, but you also have the capacity to get ridiculously powerful with a few smart choices. Think of games like Hades or The Binding of Issac, only this is a far shorter play experience that my wife says can be beaten in around a half hour.

Astragali is a darkly-atmospheric, low-poly dream where you find yourself playing round after round of a dice game that - at first - seems deceptively simple. Only something's not right. You're in a liminal space where everything is simultaneously jarring and oddly stagnant. Who are these people? Why do they keep playing? Why do you keep playing - and what will happen once you finally win?

Some dice are just a plain d6, and others like a coin with two sides. But with some dice, the smaller numbers actually double your score. Or the dice might be stronger if you keep them in your hand and never play them at all. There are even dices that increase your score depending on how many of your opponents dice you take your turn to destroy. You have a lot of power at your disposal, a strategy that can change depending on what you have access to - but so does the person you're playing against.

But they don't seem to care, do they? They keep lining up, and yet none of this really seems to matter.

Astragali is fresh in beta, meaning the developer is mainly looking for vibes. They've created a short feedback survey for anyone looking to download the game and go through it. I wouldn't say the bar to entry is very high in regards to skill - I am pretty bad at a lot of video games and I am able to pick it up and enjoy it. I actually love it. It's a great way to have a sort of eerie, horror-adjacent gaming experience without jumpscares or graphic content. It's a very cool experience with a few surprises for the player to find, and I would love for Riley to get the insight they need from a larger sample size so they can release the game in the next few months.

Interested? Comment below or DM me for the link to the file! It's a small .exe that runs on my Lenovo Yoga no problem.

Support indie gaming support my wife come on man be cool

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

(A/N: Based on this post about seventeen as supermarket cashiers. Hope you guys like it!)

The chime of the bells signaling the start of Christmas day was welcoming to all but you. To you, it was nothing but a death sentence. With ten dollars in your wallet and a sleepy daughter in your arms, you felt so so tired. If there was a choice you would not have bought her with you. It was almost unbearable for you that your tiny angel was unconsciously witnessing how pathetic and powerless her mother truly was.

Picking up the cheapest looking bread, you find out that it was almost five dollars. But you had no other options. This and the american cheese that you were certain was plastic were all you could afford now. Your head was spinning thinking about how you had to puff up a cheese sandwich like it was ambrosia from the gods. When and how did you reach the checkout section you don’t even know.

“ Hello, I am Soonyoung! Can you pass me your items to scan?” The cheerful words from the cashier in front of you jolted you back to the present. Looking at him, you couldn’t help thinking that he bore a striking similarity to your daughter. Which was ridiculous. One was a five year old girl in tattered clothes, the other was a twenty something man with blond hair and striking features. Hell, he was closer to your age than your child’s. Shaking off your foolish thoughts, you reply,

“ Of course. And I would like to pay by cash.”

“ Sure! No problem.” A cheeky grin was flashed in your direction. But soon, with every second Soonyoung couldn’t get the scanner to cooperate with him, his smile dimmed a bit more. Five minutes later, he abandoned the machine with a resentful muttering of ‘always does this to him on purpose’ and was now painstakingly inputting the serial code of the cheese into the computer. At this point your arms were getting strained holding your precious cargo. No matter how small a kid was, it was tiring to hold them in one position for a long time.

“ Soonyoung, did you forget how to use the scanner again? ” A gentle voice spoke from beside you. The gentle voice was matched with gentle doe eyes and a name tag on his uniform that said ‘Joshua’.

Soonyoung whined in protest. “ I did not forget how to use that stupid machine. It’s broken again! ”

“Uh huh, sure. Please be quicker. You have already made the customer wait for a long time.” Joshua chided softly.

“Jeez, okay. Just give me a minute.” was the sullen reply.

Turning to you, Joshua asked conversationally, “ I used to love cheese sandwiches as a kid too. That’s what you were buying the bread and cheese for, right? Please say yes or I just confessed my undying love for them for nothing.”

Surprising even yourself, you giggled. But reality sobered you up in a second. With a strained smile, you replied, “ No, actually. My daughter really wanted a christmas dinner like she sees in movies. But we are on a budget so….”

With a sudden intense light in his eyes, Joshua asked, “ What is your budget? Maybe I can help? I like to cook in my free time.”

You hesitate for a moment before letting out a whispered “Ten dollars” into the air.

After a few seconds, he replied, “How about a turkey casserole and cherry pie cookie bars?”

“ Tha- that’s possible?” You couldn’t help but stutter. A small flicker of hope was born in your heart.

“ Very possible.” Joshua affirmed with a reassuring smile. The next moment his voice changed into a commanding one. “Yo, Soonyoung, leave those there and bring me two packages of sugar cookie mix, a can of cherry pie fillings, and a small tub of margarine from aisle 14 and 21.” 

“Oh, thank god.” The blond man ran away as if there was wind under him. You couldn’t help but share a helpless glance with the other man.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in your car in a daze with a full bag of groceries, handwritten recipes for an amazing dinner, and some change in your wallet. Joshua and Soonyoung may have been a whirlwind but they were also a christmas miracle. Your christmas miracle.

[blehblehbleh735]

Get to know rapper!chris x singer!reader!!

SINGER!READER

Genre: pop, indie-pop

Similar artists: Madison Beer, Sabrina Carpenter, Billie Eillish

Albums and covers (coming soon)

Gained Fame: In 2021, Y/N started making music after her boyfriend cheated on her and their messy breakup, she put all of her feelings into songs and decided her new life started at that moment. She tested with sounds and one day she randomly posted them out of nowhere. Her confidence, however, skyrocketed when she only got maybe 1000 monthly listeners after about 3 months. She gave up and continued with life as if nothing happened.

In 2023, a beloved artist named Gracie Abrams, noticed her pathetic music and reached out. Y/N, much to her dismay, of course said yes when Gracie asked to do a collaboration with her. The song blew up on tik tok and other social media platforms and Y/N’s 6 songs soon started rising. Rooftops, a song about her ex, was #14 on the top 200 in the US. Gracie and her became good friends and Y/N got into song writing again.

Cute little headcanons:

Singer!y/n, who doesn't pay attention to rude or sexualising comments about her body but Chris does. When they're out in public and Chris hears someone say one thing about her, he’s practically on top of them and he’s not scared to beat the shit out of them.

Singer!y/n, who keeps a notebook full of random lyrics inspired by overheard conversations, half of which make absolutely no sense at all, but are oddly poetic

Singer!y/n, who insists on hand signing fan’s posters because it's more “personal” even if it takes hoursSinger!y/n, who will stop a concert mid way if she sees a sign or an outfit that she loves just to compliment that person.

Singer!y/n, who loves making up dumb tik tok dances to her songs just for funSinger!y/n, who’s fans are called the most ridiculous name. It started as a joke but now it's a part of her brand.

Singer!y/n, who takes a polaroid picture with her team before every show

Singer!y/n, who gets nervous before award shows, so Chris shows her his “pre game hype” which consists of terrible dancing and a not so helpful pep talk in a mirror

RAPPER!CHRIS (CHRI$)

Genre: hip hop, rap (obviously)

Similar artists: Playboi Carti, The Kid LaROI, Lil Skies

Albums and covers (coming soon)

Gained fame: Chris started his career more recently at the beginning of 2024. Because of the youtube channel, Chris didn't need to be famous for his music. About mid 2024, his music started to get recognized by more than just Sturniolo Triplets fans. Playboi Carti actually liked Chris’s music for what it was.

On Carti’s tik tok, he posted a video with one of Chris’s songs as the sound. Don't know how this made Chri$ more popular but his listens blew up hours later. 11 million monthly listeners quickly went to 30 in less than a month.

Cute little headcanons:

Chri$, who always kept his word, and has never done drugs, drank alcohol, or smoked a vape or cigarette in his life.

Chri$, who’s concerts are the most wild and fun thing ever. The energy in the sold out stadiums is exhilarating and the fans in the front row will probably not be able to hear anything else for days.

Chri$, who makes sure that you are always comfortable and happy no matter what you’re doing.

Chri$, who has your stuff scattered everywhere. He’s got hair ties on his wrist, your hairbrush in his car, and your clothes are all over the place.

Chri$, who once hung a pair of your panties on the rear view mirror in his car because the color “complimented” the vibe

Chri$, who never lets you pay for anything. This man will do everything and anything to make sure your card never sees daylight. Sometimes he steals your wallet before you even leave the car.

Fics to look forward to: (I obviously have not been busy)

Sleepytime - Chris asks Y/N to sing him to sleep one night

Model - Y/N’s manager needs to meet with her about upcoming tour outfits but Chris is not having it with her leaving

Noise Complaints - Late night studio sessions in Y/N’s apartment lead to awkward run ins with the neighbors

Pink Sweater Season - Chris borrows Y/N’s favorite oversized pink sweatshirt for a music video and the internet has questions.

Off Key Apologies - After a heated argument, Chris writes a very pathetic song as an apology but Y/N doesn't want to hear it

Mute - A mic on a live stream reveals way too much about how Chris feels about Y/N

Paper House - The power went out and the house is quiet so Chris and Y/N decide to build houses out of cards.

Stage Left - A surprise performance during Chris’ tour has the crowd cheering—and Y/N wondering where she stands with Chris

Signs - Chris finds an old playlist you made for him and realizes the feelings were there all along—he just missed the signs.

Second Verse - Chris struggles to finish a song about…love and how he hates to admit how much the second verse sounds like you.

REQUESTS!!

[wigglebox]

Newsflash: They sound ridiculous either way

[tackykachowch]

How it feels to not like timebomb after s2

[zilabee]

I love how ridiculously warm John would feel about the fact that Paul still loves him so much and sings with him at concerts and wanted to finish another song with him after all this time, and I love how John would kind of just feel it all behind his beautiful face, looking down, trying to be nonchalant about it.

The way that Paul loves John, so absolute and steady. The way that John didn't feel loveable like that, but craved it, but didn't recognise or trust it, and the way it was there and real anyway despite him. I don't know. I like that Paul is so relentless in loving him.