#or like saying that i want to “try” for a lack of a better word

[theteablogger]

You may have already noted this, but Andy's claims on twitter about being able to understand what his sparrow is saying (and thus sparrow language in general) seem to be ramping up in unbelievability- apparently yesterday the bird was able to communicate that it didn't want its conversation with other sparrows recorded and shared. Andy makes mention of several of his followers who have apparently been having FaceTime calls with the bird. There's at least 5-6 of Andy's followers who consistently comment on the bird updates and show no credulity, expressing how much they want to be able to communicate with the bird like Andy does. It's probably not the biggest deal, but the whole thing has just been giving me an odd vibe. Feels like Andy once again making friends/followers by demonstrating abilities and knowledge no one else has.

Yes, his allegedly deep connection with sparrows has been getting weird for quite a while. He says he can understand some of their language, enough to relay things that the flock outside his house is talking about and things that Nuggie communicates to him. On top of that, Andy has written about things like Nuggie watching movies and musicals and following every emotional beat, to the point of showing the characters his malformed feet to offer encouragement when they're lacking confidence. Andy is anthropomorphizing the hell out of that little bird. Meanwhile, his followers praise him for knowing sparrows better than ornithologists do.

I've lived with a parrot before, for many years, and I bonded very closely with him. I agree that birds are much smarter and more emotionally complex than most people realize. But they're not humans. Their thoughts and feelings are not exactly like ours and we have no way to know exactly what's going on in their heads. Projecting onto them can lead to misunderstandings of their behavior and needs. Andy seems to be taking good care of Nuggie, from what I can tell--bearing in mind that we only have his word for it--but that doesn't mean he's right about everything.

Here's the thread you mentioned:

Here's Andy in November, writing about Nuggie's "phone flock":

Here's a thread from October, featuring Andy's musings on sparrow language. Friendly reminder that he is neither an ornithologist nor a linguist.

Note that at the end, he specifies that he's not Dr. Doolittle and doesn't speak or 100% understand sparrows' language...but he's still claiming a level of understanding that no one else has.

And here's Andy in August, wishing that he could communicate effectively with Nuggie and then having an actual conversation with him:

Those are some awfully complex ideas for a member of a non-human species to understand and respond to appropriately.

I'm not trying to suggest that Andy is forming another cult based around his bird, but like you said, Anon, it's notable that he is once again positioning himself as someone who has a special ability that no one else has. He's also repeating an old pattern in making himself the sole conduit to communicate with someone who holds a great deal of emotional significance for people. Back in the day, it was any of 160+ "others", and later, the DAYDverse/Harry Potter characters; now, it's a rescued sparrow with a disability, whom a lot of people apparently find inspiring.

[lieslab]

Soon you'll get better

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: Your boyfriend tries to help you with your headaches, but when a doctor diagnoses you with something far worse than you ever expected, your world shatters.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 2.6K

Trigger warning: Mentions of blood, nausea, a seizure, doctors, surgery, and hospitals.

_ _ _

How do you tell the love of your life that you’re sick? What do you say when it all falls apart? When someone rips out the happy ending and throws the pages, leaving them scattered, and thrown across the floor? Minho is your entire life. He’s supposed to be and yet, you’re not sure how to break the news. 

It started with headaches. The dull ache annoyed you endlessly, but they were manageable. Life took a stumble when they morphed into mind-bending migraines. The sharp pain behind your eyes, the nausea, and the sensitivity to every bright light and loud sound. 

Dull aches turned into piercing needles. It felt like being jabbed over and over again, the needles pressed against the back of your eyes. No matter what you tried, they grew impossible to manage. The painkillers stopped working. 

It grew normal to come home from work, bury yourself in the darkness of your bedroom, and sleep for hours. When you could catch sleep, it became the only thing to relieve the pain in your head. Exhaustion clung to you, but you thought it would be temporary. 

Perhaps it was too much caffeine or maybe you were pulling away from it with your caffeine withdrawals. If not that, you were certainly struggling with not drinking enough water. Maybe that was the reason why your brain screamed against you and tormented you in the worst way possible. 

Minho called your name when he came home from the doctor. He searched the house and froze in the doorway of your shared bedroom. Curled into a ball on your side, you didn’t respond. Even talking caused the pain in your head to drill harder against your skull. 

The nausea and dizziness wiped you out entirely. Soft footsteps padded over to you. He clicked on the lamp behind you, trying not to make your head feel worse. He called your name in a whisper, wondering if you were awake or not. 

The bags under your eyes grew from brown to purple. You blinked rapidly as his eyes met yours. He frowned at your paleness. All he wanted to do was make you feel better, but he didn’t know how. 

The warm baths didn’t help. He tried to massage the side of your head, but it led to you pushing him away. He picked up one of those compression bands that vowed to help, but the packaging lied. The immediate relief never came. 

“How is it today?” He whispered. 

“Worse. It’s so much worse.” 

He reached over, pushed a piece of hair from your face, and gently cupped your cheek. “I know you don’t want to, but you should consider going to the doctor. You can’t keep dealing with this. I know how exhausting it is, I feel like you’re withering away from me.” 

“I have an appointment tomorrow. Until then, I’ll be here suffering.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it didn’t meet your eyes. 

He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the middle of your forehead. No matter what happened, he just wanted you to be back to normal. This destroyed your normal personality. You didn’t have the energy to talk back to him anymore. Your usual go-getter attitude disappeared entirely. You were becoming the ghost of who you once were.

He just wanted to see you smile again. 

_ _ _ 

When you came back from the doctor the next day, you left your bag and keys on the small table, beside the door. You didn’t have the energy to put everything where it needed to go. You barely had the energy to kick off your shoes and drag yourself to the living room. 

Test after test after test. 

A bruise bloomed where a nurse drew blood with gentle hands. You described the experiences you’d been having. Everything from the headaches, the migraines, to the lack of energy. You assumed you fell victim to chronic migraines, but your reality was so much worse. 

When the doctor diagnosed you with a brain tumor, you didn’t understand. How could you? Nobody in your genetic mapping had anything like this. Sure, you’ve heard of cancer before, but you? No way. 

You did what you could to avoid it. You drank your water, ate a balanced diet, and you were active. Still young, you lived with the silent assumption that something like this wouldn’t happen to you. If you had cancer, it wouldn’t grip onto you until you were older. Maybe your sixties or seventies, but this young? 

Silence engulfed you on the couch. The scent of hospital disinfectant made you feel sick. You were no longer there, but you still felt sick to your stomach. Your doctor pulled out the scan they took of your head. 

The small white anomaly stuck out in the usual contours of your brain folds. Alone on the hospital bed, you tried to swallow the heavy reality alone. Staring at the image, you felt disconnected from your body. How could this be your brain? Wasn’t your body supposed to protect you? 

You laid with your head pressed against the floral arm of the couch. This couch that you begged Minho to get, despite him not being a fan of the pattern. Because two years ago, you thought the two of you would be a forever thing. Now you were navigating the heart shattering realization that your version of forever might not be as long as you wanted it to be. 

“Babe?” Minho’s voice called out from the hallway. He headed towards you with outstretched arms. How long had he been here? “Are you crying? What’d you find out?” 

You wouldn’t do that to him. Minho with his slightly messy hair and the personality you joked that he adopted from his cats. Minho that screwed around and made you smile, no matter how hard of a day he had. The Minho that surprised you with seaweed soup in bed on your birthday. 

“They’re not sure,” you finally uttered after a few conflicting moments. “They think it might be chronic migraines, but they still want to run some tests.” 

“Really?” He frowned. “I thought they were going to do a ton of tests and-” 

“They did some, but I wasn’t feeling too great. I’ll go back when I feel better. The last thing they want to do is have to admit me, you know?” 

“Their job is to help you get better.” 

“And they will, when I’m better, I promise.” 

You should never make a promise that you can’t keep. 

_ _ _ 

Two weeks later, Minho screamed your name with tears in his eyes. You appeared at the JYP building to have lunch. The two of you just entered the canteen area to find food. 

Circular tables scattered around the area. Other idols took breaks here and there. Laughter filled the air. You tried to keep it together, but you didn't feel great. Your head ached and your stomach was queasy. You tried to act like you were normal, but things continued to spiral out of control. 

The doctor left you voicemails, but you ignored them. Ignoring them was easier. You tried to find the courage to tell Minho the truth, but every time you stared at those bright brown eyes, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t find the courage to destroy his life, so you kept quiet. 

“What are you thinking? They have really good fresh sushi. On a day like today, nothing sounds better.” 

“Sushi?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Sounds great.” You dropped your head and blinked rapidly. Over the past few days, you had episodes where your vision acted up. Black spots took over and you could usually blink it away. Today’s episode felt different. 

When they finally stopped, you hurried after him. A black tray sat in his hands. Unaware that anything was wrong, he headed in the direction of the cold sushi. You grabbed your own tray and rushed to catch up. 

He grabbed a small white plate, the tongs, and began to pile up the sushi. “This morning, I spent so long dancing with the guys. I think I could eat an entire horse if they offered it.” 

You hummed, set your tray down on the metal railing, and rubbed your eyes again. You blinked harder. The spots resisted your futile attempts and you sighed. He glanced over your shoulder. “Are you okay?” 

“Just tired.” 

“When are you going back to the doctor?” 

“Probably sometime this week.” 

He pulled away from the sushi and moved his tray further down the line. A variety of sides sat everywhere. He began to load up his tray with another small plate. You grabbed your own porcelain plate to grab sushi and that’s when your vision cut out and your body went tense. 

He whipped around at the sound of a plate shattering. Worried for you, he dropped beside your limp form on the floor. He didn’t expect your limbs to curl inward. Your legs pushed your torso up and your back contorted. Your wrists curled inward and that’s when the seizing began. 

He called your name in a panic, trying to get you to respond, but you couldn’t. Your muscles tensed, your body bucked, and you shifted in such a way, you nearly hit the sharp shards of porcelain. 

“Help! Someone help!” 

A few idols and trainees rushed over. He grabbed your arms desperately, but your body didn’t stop moving. Someone pulled him away and a younger trainee stepped in. He pushed your body away from the glass and held you on your side, so you didn’t choke on your tongue. 

No sign of fear in his eyes, he glanced up at the nearest person. “Call for an ambulance, send them to the JYP building, and tell them someone is seizing.” 

Things turned to chaos. Someone pulled out a phone. You didn’t stop bucking beneath the man’s hands. Minho’s eyes watered. The familiar hue of your eyes disappeared. In its place, the milky white of your eyes stared back at him.

He never cried in public, but when it came to your pain, he was a fountain that couldn’t stop leaking.  _ _ _ 

“There’s fluid building up around the brain.” 

“The tumor is pressing against-” 

“There’s no time to waste. It’s either surgery or they die! Clear an operating room! Give me a surgical team and tell them to scrub in now!” 

Time turned to jelly in the waiting room. Minho waited with his arms crossed over his chest. His leg bounced and he chewed on his lower lip. News of the incident reached the rest of his idol group. 

Beside him, Han and Chan sat nearly just as worried. They showed up after figuring out where the ambulance took you. When Minho came rushing into the emergency room beside the gurney, your doctor from two weeks ago had been passing through the emergency room. 

He couldn’t believe it. You never told him about your brain tumor. He never knew and this entire time, you’d been acting like everything was fine on the outside. Upset with himself, he grew frustrated at not knowing the mental torment you were internally dealing with. He wished he would have picked up on it sooner. 

And now he sat in the crowded waiting room with two of his brothers. He couldn’t speak to them, even if he wanted to. If he spoke, he was sure he’d fall apart and burst into sobs that’d never stop. 

Chan texted updates to the rest of the guys. Han held Minho’s hand, but it wasn’t enough this time. Rapping was easy when he held Han’s hand. Holding his hand and realizing the love of his life sat on the verge of death, it became much harder to accept. 

When the doctor showed up in scrubs hours later, Minho was the first one on his feet. The doctor sucked in a deep breath and he assumed the worst. His stomach twisted in knots. He couldn’t breathe. 

“The tumor is entirely out. We won’t know if it’s cancerous until we do a biopsy on it. Recovery is going to be hard no matter what, but they’re recovering and out of surgery.” 

“If it’s cancer?” Minho whispered, trying to keep himself held together. 

“Then we’ll do whatever we can to prevent it from coming back. The fluid build-up caused migraines and the seizure. Taking it weighed other risks, but those are risks I was willing to take.” 

“Can I see them?” 

“Of course.” 

Minho gave a final look to Han and Chan. Han squeezed his hand a final time and Chan nodded. He wiped his eyes and followed the doctor to your room. Seeing you in your state, it broke his heart. 

Your hair had to be shaved for the surgery. A line of stitches sat along your scalp. The doctor led him closer and gestured to a chair beside your bed. “If you need anything at all, press the call button and a nurse will be here immediately.” 

“Thank you.” 

The doctor reached out, gave his shoulder a light squeeze, and disappeared from the room. Hooked to a variety of medical equipment, you turned into a stranger. Beneath IVs of medicine and the tangled cords of a heart rate monitor, he felt like a stranger in your room. 

Flashes of your seizure shot through his brain. He squeezed his eyes shut and placed his hands in his face. He just wished you would have told him about everything. Maybe, he would have felt less guilty about the state you were in. 

“Minho?” You croaked five minutes later. 

He sniffled and jerked upright. “Hey,” he forced himself to smile. “I see you’re still kicking.” 

“I’m invincible.” 

“You think so?” 

“I’m trying to be.” 

Even in the middle of everything, you were still trying to be upbeat. Swaddled in the warmth of sedation, your head didn’t hurt anymore. Your eyes met his and then you shut them. “They’ve got me on the good shit.”

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Rude.” 

“But you’re my idiot.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the center of your forehead. “Don’t scare me like that ever again. I thought you were dying.” His own eyes shut and he kept his forehead pressed against yours. 

“Not dying, just keeping you on your toes. Reminding you of what you’ve got. Don’t take me for granted ever again.” 

“You’re such a pain in my ass when you’re sedated.” 

“I always am.” 

He pulled away with a sigh. “You should get some rest.” 

“Did the doctor fix everything?” 

“For now. They’re going to biopsy your tumor to see if it was cancerous or not.” 

“It wasn’t.” 

“And how do you know that?” 

“Because I feel good.”

“You’re still drugged up.” 

“I feel like myself again. I know me and I know my body. I think if it was cancer, I’d still feel like shit.” 

He stared at you, trying not to cry again. He blinked rapidly and swallowed the lump in his throat. “You should get some sleep again. You’re foolish when you’re on drugs.” 

“Your worst nightmare.” 

“Good night.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, dork.”  _ _ _ 

And you were right. You knew your body pretty well. A week later, your tumor was diagnosed as a benign tumor. Not cancerous, you were issued a few follow up scans and blood tests. You’d probably have scans every year, just to keep an eye on things, but that was manageable.  

You’d do whatever it took to keep your forever with Minho for a long, long time.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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Ko-fi

[sapphicaeri]

my prettiest problem

pairing: giselle x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 1.7k

notes: this is the first fic i've written in a while so it's rather short but i promise it'll get longer (and better)

On a cold, wintery night in Seoul, you find yourself dozing off in your girlfriend’s bed. You shake your head a few times and blink quickly as if that will keep you awake. She had been gone for hours as she had to rehearse for her group’s upcoming comeback. Being an idol’s secret significant other was not easy but Aeri was more than worth it. You look over at your phone. It was almost midnight, typically when she would come back from practice. As if she knew you were thinking about her, a notification with her name on it pops up.

Almost home, sleepyhead.

You react to the message with a heart and smile to yourself. Of course, she knows you’re falling asleep, you both have been through this nightly routine a million times.

Within a few minutes, you hear the four girls chattering and laughing as they enter the dorm. They say their goodnights to one another, and then the bedroom door slowly opens. Aeri walks in, sees you snuggled up in her bed, and smiles brightly.

“It took you long enough,” you jokingly whisper under your breath loud enough for her to hear. She drops her bag on the floor and rolls her eyes playfully. “Sorry,” she says in a singsong voice as she takes off her jacket. For some reason, you can’t help but watch her intently, she was that good-looking.

“Like what you see?” This time you roll your eyes and ignore the bait. The lack of a response triggers something deep inside of her. Aeri cocks her head to the side and glares right back at you. She begins to pull her sweaty t-shirt over her head slowly. You restrain yourself from visibly reacting, but on the inside, you feel heat traveling to every part of your body. Your eyes dropped to her chest. Of course, she was wearing your favorite bra of hers. It was a lacy, white bra that could barely hold her full breasts up. Continuing to tease you, she loosened the drawstring on her sweats, dropping them to the ground in one motion. She was wearing a matching thong. Fuck.

You instinctively shut your eyes, unable to control your emotions for much longer. She smirks and struts towards the bed intently. She firmly grips your chin and tilts your head upwards. “Look at me,” she whispers. You shut your eyes tighter, once again trying to ignore her words that had such an intense effect on you. Aeri then wraps her hand around the back of your neck and pushes your head against her boobs. A moan escapes from your lips immediately, signaling your defeat.

Lacing her fingers through your hair, she tugs at the strands to make you look up at her. You obediently open your eyes but try to avoid her fiery gaze. Aeri leans down slightly and plants a quick kiss on the corner of your lips. You grip her waist and pull her closer, practically begging for more. To no avail, Aeri stands her ground and just looks at you, eyes narrowed in disappointment. “Tell me. Do you like what you see, baby?” Her voice was as raspy and sultry as ever. You managed to nod your head but you both knew that wouldn’t be enough.

Aeri steps back and unhooks her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms without letting it fall off completely. She turns her back to you, her ass on full display. “I’ll just go take a shower so we can get ready for bed, yeah?” You can’t see her face but you know she’s smirking. Aeri was always confident about her hold on you. As much as you didn’t want to, you knew you had to show her how badly you wanted her because god did you want her bad. “I love what I see, Aeri,” you begin, “Please.” She turns back around, letting the useless bra descend to the ground. Her boobs bounce gently as she walks back towards you.

When she’s within reach, you stretch your arms out and pull her between your legs. Your hands drop to her ass, gripping both cheeks roughly. Now, it was your turn. Aeri bites her bottom lip to suppress a moan as you tug on the waistband of her panties. Without any hesitation, she grabs your hands and guides them downwards to take her underwear off. Aeri’s fully exposed body left you breathless. From head to toe, she was perfect. Nothing could compare to the masterpiece that was her.

You lean forward and plant kisses across her toned stomach, moving farther down with each one. Once you reach her mound, you stop, causing her to whine out. “Please,” she begs as if she were about to cry. Ignoring her pleas, you stand up to take off your clothes as well. You pull her into an embrace and kiss her hard. The kiss becomes sloppy within milliseconds, the two of you were so desperate for each other. Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Aeri steps forward and gently pushes you onto your back in the bed.

She climbs on top of you and straddles one of your legs. You can feel her wetness on your bare thigh as she begins to roll her hips slowly. Her soft moans begin to fill the room and you can’t help but moan too. She flips her pink hair out of her face and throws her head back, speeding up as she grows needier. You place your hands on her waist to slow her down and she cries out. “I need more, I want to cum for you,” she says breathlessly. The pure lust and desire on her face made it nearly impossible to continue to tease her, you needed to give in.

The sight of her immaculate body moving in the most perfect ways made you ache even more between your legs. From the way her breasts moved in time with her hips to the way she furrowed her brows and bit her lip, you couldn’t take it anymore. You grab her wrists abruptly and pull her towards you. “Ride me.”

Aeri quickly gets up and positions herself so that she’s kneeling right over your face. You wrap your arms around her thighs and slowly lower her. Her pussy is glistening and almost dripping. She needs this just as bad as you do. You slide your tongue between her lips and earn the loudest moan yet. You shush her, as the other three girls were probably still awake. She nods her head in agreement with her eyes shut tight. You start again, this time licking her clit with the tip of your tongue. Her body begins to shake and you can sense her struggling to hold back her sweet moans.

“Oh fuck,” she curses when you flatten your tongue and start to bob your head slowly. Her hands tighten around yours, almost cutting off your circulation but you couldn’t care less. You keep eating her out just the way she likes it. Your tongue slips between her folds repeatedly and you almost can’t believe how addicting she tastes. Her quiet squeals turn into loud, throaty moans the second you start to suck on her clit. You keep sucking, pushing your tongue against her clit while you do, driving her completely insane.

“I’m going to cum,” she almost yells. You try to shush her but she slaps the back of your hand away as if to beg you to focus on only her and her clit. You grip her ass and pull her as close as you can, sucking faster and faster. Aeri can’t believe how euphoric she feels right now, every inch of her body reacting to your actions. Before she can warn you, she starts crying out and shaking uncontrollably, suffocating you with her lower half as she cums all over your face.

Your tongue slows down as she rides out her climax. Aeri almost falls forward but braces herself against the wall before lying down beside you. You turn over and kiss her, allowing her to taste herself. She puts a hand on your cheek and kisses you back, her tongue moving in sync against yours. Your hand trails down her side, following her curves perfectly, slowly making their way to her legs.

You’re running out of breath but wouldn’t dare break this kiss. You push your hand between her legs and spread them slightly, tracing shapes on her inner thigh. Her breath hitches at the thought of what’s coming next. You drag your finger from her dripping hole to her pulsing clit. She moans right into your mouth and spreads her legs wider for you.

You take your chance to slip two of your fingers inside of her, stretching her out all too quickly. Aeri lets out a long moan in response, her hole clenching around your digits. You start pumping your fingers in and out slowly, curling them upwards slightly. The way her body writhes and the sounds she makes rile you up even more. You have total control over her and her body.

Aeri couldn’t think straight, all her thoughts were jumbled together. One thing she did know is that she needed you in this moment more than anything. “More,” she begged. Obeying her commands, you push your fingers as far as you can and pump them in and out faster. Her slick was dripping down your fingers and onto your palm. “Does it feel good, baby?” “Yes,” she blurts out in response, “It feels so fucking good. I’m going to cum again.” Her moans increase in volume and frequency as you bring her closer to the edge. You push your fingers against her spot and rub against it as you pump your fingers. This elicits a sultry moan from Aeri as she begins to cum all over your fingers.

You remove your fingers from inside of her and she whines in disappointment. You push your fingers past her lips and she sucks on them obediently. “That’s my good girl.” The praise makes her pussy ache again. You remove your fingers from her mouth and replace them with your lips.

“The girls definitely heard you,” you say in between kisses. Aeri bites your bottom lip hard. “I couldn’t help it,” she says, redness creeping across her cheeks. You kiss her cheek and smile, “I know.” She rolls her eyes at your cockiness and pouts cutely. “Yeah, yeah,” she retorts. You lock eyes with her, admiring how deep and brown they are. “What am I going to do with you, Aeri?“ you begin, “You’re my prettiest problem."

[p3achslimes]

do you think you could maybe do some spicy hcs for spider-charlie..? i love the fic so much, it’s so cuuuteeeee

absoLUTELY i will!! i’ve been wanting someone to request more from this universe i think charlie and reader are soo cute (i say as if i didnt write it myself LOL)

i may have gotten carried away with making it more cute than spicy LMAO but theres some spice in here :>

spiderman!charlie hcs under the cut, MDNI

🕷️ first of all, roleplay king. i feel like that may be a given but i cannot imagine it being any other way

🕷️ he obviously doesn’t want to make you relive the moment you discovered he was spiderman (unless you want to for some reason, adrenaline is definitely a strong emotion)

🕷️ but he does like to act it out in the cheesiest way possible. like its bad LMAO but very fun and silly

“my hero!” you sigh out melodramatically, both hands on either side of his mask. “how can i ever repay you for saving me!”

“i can think of a few ways,” charlie says as sensually as he can, gripping your waist and pulling you closer.

you slide your hands down to pull his mask over his head, his fluffy hair flopping down across his forehead.

“gasp!” you say, covering your mouth. “charlie? my best friend? is spiderman??”

charlie pushes you down on the bed, caging you beneath his arms. “let me show you what this spider can do, baby.”

(“stop laughing, this is serious!” charlie tries to say, but your giggling is contagious he can’t even help it as you struggle to control it. “i’m sorry! i’m trying!”)

🕷️ he takes advantage of his webs. a lot.

🕷️ you’re walking through a hallway somewhere, at home or otherwise, he’ll stick a web to your back and pull you into a small room in a fraction of a second and yank the door closed behind you

🕷️ it spooked you at first, but now you’re so used to it that when you walk by a dark room with the door wide open, theres a 99% chance charlie is in there, just waiting. plotting.

“charlie.” you deadpan, a hand on your hip. “i have work to do.” you can’t see him yet, but you know where he is.

“so do i!” he lowers himself down in front of you from the ceiling, a sneaky smirk on his face. “i have to keep you safe from the dangers of the outside world!”

“oh yeah, that hallway was so dangerous.” you press a kiss to his upside down lips, and he hums happily.

you reach for the doorknob, but he catches your wrist with a web.

“ah ah!” he says, flipping down and landing back on his feet. “i just saved your life. i need your help with a little problem now.” you feel the problem he’s referring to when he grips your hips, pulling you into him.

you sigh dramatically, but the smile on your face betrays you. “fine, i guess i do own you a favor.” charlie grins, pulling you in for a heated kiss.

🕷️ for lack of a better word, he pretends his webs are cum sometimes LMAO

🕷️ if you’re getting ready for something, charlie will moan and spurt a web onto your outfit i can’t even keep a straight face writing this its so stupid kdhdkdj

“ew! charlie, i’m trying to get ready for a dinner party!” you whine, wiping the web off of your clothing.

“sorry baby, you just look so good.” he wraps himself around you from behind, pressing kisses to your neck.

“i can cum on you for real later if you want.” “charlie!”

🕷️ webs are a common occurrence in the bedroom as well

🕷️ sometimes he’ll use his webs to restrain you, wrapping your wrists to the headboard or behind your back so you’re completely at his mercy

🕷️ if he’s feeling more submissive, he likes to be blindfolded

🕷️ his senses have been heightened after he was bitten, and he’s so sensitive, so not being able to see what you’re doing to him gives him a huge headrush and makes his heart pound

sorry its a little bit of an abrupt ending, this is all i can think of rn and i have to go to work soon but if you want more i can try and think of some! <3

[jemgirl86]

Updated Masterlist for my SamBucky Divorce AU

Breakdown 3.9K

The first time Sam went on a date after his divorce from Bucky was finalized, he was excited. No butterflies, beads of sweat, or shaking hands; just an overblown anticipation for the night to come that couldn’t possibly be healthy.

And it wasn’t. Sam just didn’t recognize that at the time.

Oh, he knew he’d accepted his cousin’s offer to set him up on a blind date for all the wrong reasons alright, but in the moment he’d felt like he was justified in those wrong reasons. So, actually, they hadn’t seemed all that wrong at all.

Or: Sam could be handling things better.

Time After Time 6.8K

“You can’t get in trouble on your birthday.”

Sam didn’t even bother responding for a second. Bucky was always saying crazy stuff like that. Maybe in the Barnes family you couldn’t get in trouble on your birthday, but Sam seriously doubted that his mama and daddy would feel the same way, especially about something like this.

“Whatever, Bucky.”

Or: Six birthdays Sam spent with Bucky, and one birthday he spent without him.

I Keep Forgetting (We’re Not in Love Anymore) 3.8K

Sarah’s wedding was going to be the first big Wilson family event since his and Sam’s divorce. And, although Bucky might never admit it, she knew he was sad to have to miss it, to not belong anymore. So since she hadn’t been invited, because Sam was the only Wilson sibling she’d ever truly been friends with, Natasha figured she and Bucky could keep each other company. True, Bucky actually was invited, but there was no way he was really planning to show up, was there?

Or: Bucky is definitely planning on showing up, but hopefully he isn’t planning on showing out.

Don’t Forget About Us 6.9K

“You need to get laid.”

Dum Dum didn’t even grant Bucky the courtesy of letting him drink his first shot of whiskey before those outrageous words were falling out of his mouth.

“Sooner rather than later,” he tacked on, adding insult to injury almost as an afterthought.

“Excuse me?” Bucky asked, adopting a blank expression.

Truthfully though, he’d known this was coming. Well, okay, maybe not this exactly, but he’d known something was coming. When his buddies had all started texting him at once (and all somewhat out of the blue) earlier that week, he’d known something was up.

Or: “It ain’t no fun when the rabbit got the gun.”

Ain’t Too Proud to Beg 2.9K

Maybe Sam wanted him around again, maybe he wanted Bucky’s attention again, at least a little.

Not that Bucky’s attention had ever really left Sam. The mere thought was laughable. Honestly, it was laughable that anyone that knew them would ever think that, especially Sam. But maybe Sam needed a reminder — of Bucky’s complete and unwavering devotion? Of his complete lack of chill when it came to Sam? Of the fact that he’d never really and truly leave Sam alone?

And maybe Sam’s birthday was the perfect time for such a reminder.

Or: If Bucky doesn’t have anything else, he’s got some nerve.

All Or Nothing 5.4K

It took everything in Sam to keep a straight face and not let his expression mirror her perplexed look. Because, what was going on? What was this? Sure, when Bucky and he had first separated, they’d had to sit down with Aisha and have this conversation together, and then he’d had to have smaller, more simple, versions of the same conversation without Bucky, on more than one occasion. But they were all a long time ago, at least they were all a relatively long time ago. As far as visitation and custody were concerned, things had been pretty settled for a while now. So where was this coming from?

Or: Sam is just trying to do right by his family and his boyfriend.

[astra-galaxie]

I was lucky that I saved the hearts, I was also confused by the first two! Since one is darker than the other, but it's okay, Astra! So, I decided to resend the question again.

❤️💚💙🖤💟💖😍 for Domuel? (I have emotional dependence on them)

 The original ask for some context I wanted to respond to:

Thanks for clarifying one of the hearts! I really appreciate it!🥰

And don’t worry; people can always resend characters or couples when I do a new prompt list! I don’t mind having repeat visitors!😊

(Again, warning for NSFW under the cut.)

❤️ Soulmate headcanon:

When Samuel and Donna met, it was like love at first sight. They felt drawn to one another, like two attracting magnets. Love quickly bloomed between them, and it felt as if they’d found exactly what they never knew they were looking for. No matter how tough times got or the challenges they faced, their love never faded. Even after Donna died, Samuel never felt the desire to seek someone new to love, his heart belonging to Donna in life and death. And when they meet again in the afterlife, their hearts become one again.

💚 Giving flower headcanon:

Samuel loved bringing flowers home for Donna, especially after a long, tiring day at work. Coming home and seeing his wife’s face light up with love and joy when she saw the flowers always brightened his mood. Donna had a collection of vases for the flowers to match the seasons and special occasions, and rarely did the vases go empty for long.

💙 Calming each other headcanon:

While Samuel is well known for his temper, Donna has an equally fiery one; she just has better control over it. When Samuel is angry, Donna lets him rant everything out, giving him time to get everything that’s annoying him off his chest before she offers some advice, solutions, or support, depending on the situation. Samuel does something similar whenever Donna is angry since he knows it's best to let her get everything out before trying to talk to her.

When Donna is sad, Samuel is always her shoulder to cry on while he listens to her tell him what happened. He does his best to support her and give Donna what she needs to feel better while reminding her how much he loves her. If Samuel is feeling sad, Donna is the one he can always trust to break down with without fear of judgment. She’ll console him and never make him feel weak for crying, and while sometimes he refuses to tell what’s wrong, Donna never forces him to talk but will always be there to listen when he’s ready.

🖤 Sex headcanon:

Must resist… Urge to… Bring up… The past… Fandom… Crack!

Samuel is good with his hands! (I’m sorry for bringing this back, but it's canon, and you can blame @ticcory for creating the words I will not say!) And so is Donna! These two are experts at pleasing each other and have skills none of their family, friends or coworkers would suspect them of ever mastering!

Samuel knows how to pleasure Donna like the queen she is and make her feel like the most important, well-loved woman in the world. He never ignores her pleasure during sex and would never deprive her of feeling good, not even when he’s lacking it. Donna loves it when Samuel touches her and how good he makes her feel, even when only using his hands. Likewise, Donna knows how to return the favour and won’t let her husband get left behind even after she’s finished. These two know exactly where to touch each other to send them over the edge, and their intimate time together is always full of love and passion.

(A/N: I am SO sorry for referencing that fandom incident… I couldn't help myself!)

💟 Night headcanon:

When it comes time for Donna and Samuel to get ready for bed, the two go through their routines to get ready before cuddling together under the sheets. Both like to read a little before bed; sometimes, they read to each other or discuss the books they are reading. They like taking the time before going to sleep to enjoy relaxing in each others’ company. Once they’re ready to sleep, they’ll put their books away, turn off the lights and snuggle in, falling asleep to the sound of the others’ soft breathing or heartbeat.

💖 Morning headcanon:

Samuel wakes up first, while Donna sleeps in a little longer. If they have work, he kisses her before slipping out of bed to start brewing coffee. The rich aroma helps to wake Donna as Samuel begins making breakfast. Donna slides up behind him to hug her husband and exchanges a quick kiss before pulling away to pour the coffee. They finish making breakfast together while drinking their coffee before getting ready and leaving for work.

If neither are working, they’ll stay in bed and cuddle together until they’re ready to get up. Again, they share some coffee as they make breakfast at a leisurely pace, taking the time to have a lazy morning without worrying about being on time for anything.

😍 Expressing love headcanons:

Donna expresses her love through actions. A kiss on the cheek, fixing Samuel's tie, or packing his lunch, to name a few. Samuel loves and appreciates everything Donna does for him and always ensures she knows it. She loves doing little acts of love for her husband, and one of Samuel’s favourite displays of this is the little notes she leaves in his lunch for him. They never fail to fill him with happiness when he reads them at work, and he saves all of them as a reminder of Donna’s love and kindness.

Samuel expresses his love through actions as well, but also through words of affection. He loves telling Donna how much he loves her and how important she is to him. He secretly worries Donna will die before him, so he wants to do all he can to ensure his wife knows how much she means to him. He never knows when the last time he’ll get to tell her “I love you” is, so he makes every declaration full of love in case it's the last…

Note to self: next time I open asks for headcanon prompts, use a list that doesn’t have similar-looking emojis to make everyone’s lives easier…😓

(I apologize in advance if I answer the wrong heart in an ask. I try to double-check with the sender to ensure I have the right ones when unsure, but I unfortunately can’t do that for anonymous asks. So, if I accidentally answer the wrong heart(s), please accept my substitution as an apology! And feel free to send me a new request with the intended heart (and maybe a clarification if you don’t mind) if you’d still like to see that HC!)

It's a crime that we learned so little about Samuel and Donna King! What was their love story? How did they meet? How did King feel when she died?! I want answers, Pretty Simple!😭

Thank you for the request!

[k3nzgir1]

Purity {part: 1}

 w/c: 1.3k

summary: The every so perfect Agent has a history and not so secret side job. That all comes crashing down when a case in South Dakota reveals more than she’d like. 

You walk into the office angelic as always. You’d had a man you’ve never met at your side like a kicked puppy holding your bag. He’d seen you in the elevator putting on an effortless struggle against the weight of the bag. He’d offered to carry it and, well, who were you to say no? 

You had an aura about you that screamed, pure, and most men felt intense need to protect you. Though you made up for their lack of trust and took advantage of their naivety.  Men fell for you faster for you than you could say good boy. Yet most of the guys in the office already knew heal. 

But as you slide your bag off the man’s should flashing him a few of your pretty teeth you’re called into Erin Strauss’s office. 

“Have a seat, we have some.. things that I’d like to discuss with you,” she spoke with clarity and much stature as if she was above you. “I’ve received report you’ve been getting quite trigger happy with your new gun, am I going to regret fighting to get you a higher grade weapon when on the field?” you nod your head no. You’d tested out of your gun range the last time you’d done your assessment and Strauss had indeed fought to get you a better gun. You felt a bit guilty but to call it trigger happy was a different level. “There’s no need nor point in giving you a psyche evaluation, but if I find you in my office again there will be big consequences. Understood?” You nod yes quickly. Being pulled off the field would ruin everything. “Yes ma’am.” 

Derek Morgan was the first to stop you on your way out. “What was that about, are you finally getting moved up to Sniper level, little miss marksmen?” He say nudging your shoulder. Simultaneously almost knocking the files out of your grasp.

“Opposite, apparently I’m to “Trigger Happy” for Strauss’s liking, she hasn’t punished me yet but according to her I’m pushing the mark.” an unintentional sigh leaves your lips with out permission. “Well we have a briefing to get to, sweetheart. Hotch send me to find you. It’s a case in South Dakota. Son of a bitch it’s cutting the heart out of our victims.”

As you walk through the no where land that  the people around you seem to call South Dakota you find yourself at the disposal site. A young resident genius trailing aimlessly behind you. “It’s been 28 hours how is the body still here and why isn’t the park closed off to the public?” The words snap out and land in the ears of the current head detective. “I’m sorry ma’am we’re doing the best we can, unless you can fend off the general public all by yourself you’re gonna have to wait!” you look down at the body then back at the man before you can’t snap out the pettiest remark Spencer cuts in knowing in this very moment you have nothing nice to say. “Is there anyway we can get the body down to the morgue, our lack of knowledge is only setting us back in our discovery’s” he speaks politely directing a sharp glance your way. “Yeah almost like you have to do your job, colour me shocked.” it comes out of your mouth a muttered mumble, still audible, but a mutter at that. 

As the man walks away Spencer turns to do the thing you liked to cal Reidsplanning. Reidsplanning is when Spencer would lecture you on meaning less facts or give you unnecessary lessons on the field about “appropriate behaviour?”  You could see the look in his eyes and knew a string of words too fast to comprehend would fall out of his mouth, much like word vomit. “We’re supposed to be nice to the police departments. We actually want them to invite us back when bigger problems arise.” You try to walk away but Spencer keeps up your pace. “Look Reid, when people already doubt you being nice and jolly gets you nowhere. It only makes you look like a push-over. Now we’ll have to wait an hour before anyone’s even called to get the body because you went all “at your best convenience” to the Detective. No one takes a push-over seriously. Honestly, I say you should grow a pair and learn to stand on your own two feet.” You start to trail off but as your sentence tapers off you find a note shoved in the open crease of where a heart used to be. “Can I borrow your hand, thanks!” You pull over the nearest medics gloved hand to the area fishing to note out. Spencer look equal parts disgusted and intrigued. “What’s it say?” You use the man’s hand to unravel the note written on office stationery. “It says, “One of you is the mole-“ and a quote? “The Holy One, blessed be Thy, hates a person which says one thing with Thy mouth and another in his heart" (Talmud.) Does this mean anything, Spence?” Spencer’s eyes quickly graze over the words as if his brain were computing facts from memory “This quote from the Talmud essentially means that God despises someone who outwardly expresses one sentiment while harboring a different, contradictory feeling in their heart; it condemns hypocrisy and the act of saying one thing and meaning another. This saying is found in the Talmud, specifically in the tractate of Pesachim, {113b}” There’s no much information to take in so you jump to questions before comprehension. “So, who’s the mole, the unsub is talking about? And why tell us?” You speak trying to boost your purity to a maxima.

“I don’t know, do you think it has something to do with the BAU?” Spencer says now taking the grasps of the man’s hand plotting the note into an evidence bag. 

Body number two. Found in Ridgeway Park and Bike Route. A similar note is found but this time to says, “You’ve let her trick you for so long, her lies feel like a second nature.” and quote with a similar gist. “A man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point where he does not discern any truth either in himself or anywhere around him.” - Fyodor Dostoevsky a Russian novelist. and it essentially means that when someone repeatedly deceives themselves and believes their own lies, they eventually lose the ability to distinguish truth, both within themselves and in the world around them; effectively creating a distorted reality where they can no longer perceive the truth. Your lost in thought piecing together the notes when JJ bust through the door. There is a call coming through asking for the FBI, asking for you? You quickly run over to the group taking the phone offering a simple hello? A cold hasty voice answers “The trickster's function is to break taboos, create mischief, stir things up. In the end, the trickster gives people what they really want, some sort of freedom, audited by Tom Robbin’s, They will find you and when they do it’ll be too late. You’ve taken there freedom in hopes of your own, How does it feel y/n. How does it feel knowing you’ve won?” Just as fast as the call started the call ended leaving everyone in shock. Your job didn’t end here you must progress. “I- I don’t know what he’s talking about? I’ve never gone under any secret mission. I’m not a mole!” Spencer looks at you blind sided. “Why? Why did he call you y/n? And why did you respond like that’s your name? Answer me”

a/n: i’m trying but i’m terrible at cliffhangers…

[ghostsandmirrors]

There was something in Steve's voice that had him pulling back enough to be able to look at his face, seemingly searching for something. Steve would probably think it was a threat assessment, but that'd happened years ago and his threat level was low; he knew Steve would avoid anything that could classify him as a threat, and he also knew that even if Steve decided to change that, the metal hand was a good deterrent.

"They never saw him." Bucky. They never saw Bucky, as they pulled him apart at the seams, slowly and methodically, precise little movements to make sure he couldn't be put back together, taking away whatever they could so he'd never be whole. "They saw a science experiment, Steve." His voice was heavy and detached; it was so much easier to explain his dehumanization when he didn't feel like a human, when the red alert in his brain was background noise and too far away to care about. "'The new fist of HYDRA'."

That sentence had feeling. Everything else had been empty, heavy with meanings but overwhelmingly missing emotion, but his repetition of Zola's words held poison, bitterness, disgust for their weapon. For him. For the mere idea that Steve would feel bad for him, for how he got here.

He breathed, because weapons didn't weep. Weapons didn't weep. God damn it, weapons didn't weep.

But it was hard not to. It was hard to ignore the pain in his throat, the longing for something to fill his ribcage, the feeling that those agents who'd done those things, who'd left Bucky Barnes at the bottom of the mountains to fight the elements while the asset got taken away, got to have their lives and die their deaths but he was still here, forever their weapon because there was no way to truly escape their influence when a single bad day could drag every lesson that he thought he'd unlearned from the depths of his memories and beat him into submission.

And when Steve tried to convince him that he wouldn't have done what Steve did, he wished he could pick his memories out and play them like the world's worst film, point to every death and ask if someone who did those would have looked for him, if someone who'd had options to not do them would have looked for him, if someone whose memories were filled with inaction--with the excuse that it was for his own safety, to avoid punishments--would've looked for him or even reached for him.

He breathed, because weapons didn't weep. Weapons didn't weep. Weapons didn't weep, even when the urge was hitting so hard that he wanted to curl into himself and hide in that empty ribcage. Even when he wanted to start begging Steve to do things he would never do, because that would better than the emptiness, the hollow feeling, the knowledge that there was nothing that could fill that space because they'd needed to make room for the lessons, for the languages, for the most efficient ways to kill another human being regardless of weapon, or lack thereof, and nothing was worth sparing.

"Gettin' you out of the water wasn't dangerous. Losin' your footin' would've been."

His voice was still broken, a wreckage in his throat, the ruins of a home left to smolder and spit ash. It was still empty. It was still quiet. It was still the asset, not the body at the bottom of the pit, not the memory of the man who felt. It was still their weapon.

"I spent years tryin' to stop you dyin', and you're mad at yourself for keepin' safe."

There was an almost sad amusement to his words now, as he kept his hands moving over Steve's back with that even pressure, like he was trying to help keep him together or trying to encourage Steve to let him take his weight, because Steve wasn't too heavy and he wouldn't complain if he was. He couldn't complain when he leaned on Steve so much for support, when he was only still standing because of Steve, and Steve could say that he didn't deserve any of this, but he'd never agree.

He couldn't agree when those unfamiliar faces haunted him so vividly that he felt like he was in a gothic novel. They were the heartbeat under the floorboards of his brain and Steve couldn't hear it. He couldn't see those faces behind his eyelids, hear the orders for their deaths during a silent night, smell blood so strongly that he often fought not to gag. Steve couldn't hear the beating of that heart, and he couldn't dramatically rip up the floorboards to reveal the murder, because Steve could never be in his head. He was happy with that--relieved by that--until times like now. That self-sabotaging urge, that'd previously disappeared, wanted him to shatter any illusions that he was anything like a human being, that he could ever be anything like a human being, that he could ever deserve those nice things that human being deserved, like kindness or warmth or support.

He breathed, because weapons didn't weep. The tightness in his throat was aching, the thorns of that spiral closing in, but weapons didn't weep. People wept. Good people with good hearts, who had always wanted to just help others and stand up for those who needed someone in their corner, but weapons didn't.

"You don't deserve this."

Steve deserved better, and he deserved worse.

Steve wasn't going to give in to Bucky's reasoning. He might have had his points but Steve knew deep down he was responsible for the fact that Bucky was in this position. "So you mean to tell me they just happen to pick Steve Roger's best friend because he survived the testing and not just because he was a drastic blow to the war movement to America. Not because he was a capable means of a soldier. Not because he was proving himself alongside Steve Rogers but because he just survived as a lab rat. I don't buy it. Zola knew what he was doing. He knew it would be a devastation to the war movement to pit us against each other."

Steve knew he sounded harsh when he argued but he knew he was at fault if Bucky never followed him into the war, he would never have been picked up and used like a wet rag over and over again until he was just shreds of what remained.

"You wouldn't have done the same thing Bucky. You would have looked for me. You would have given it a thought that I would have survived. You picked me out of the triskelion rubble and you didn't give up that I survived that fight between us. You left me in the bank to live. You could have let me drowned."

He looked at Bucky feeling guilty that he'd just let him down always in his opinion when Bucky had only ever lifted Steve up. "You know if I had reached a little farther you would have been in the train cart too. I was too worried about falling and I was selfish. I preserved myself and you were lost."

Steve felt the brush against his back, the hand that tried to comfort him and he only bit back a sob that wrenched through his whole body and was strangled by his need to be strong for the both of them.

"You didn't deserve any of this. You might not have been as brave but you've always been as loyal as anyone. You don't give up on people. You never gave up on me so if you're worried about facing scary situations with a brave face that's not everything in life."

[kkyaka]

Another year, another period of time where I question my sexuality

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Maybe we never had a chance.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[trans-leek-cookie]

listen I'm not gonna be a Curly apologist he did Fucked Up as captain but I genuinely recommend ppl watch a playthru that goes thru the game in chronological order. It kinda helps clear up the events and gaps between them, bc even tho u See the times, you still experience it out of order.

The stuff Anya says definitely sets off alarm bells but it doesn't seem like he Fully Understands what she means, and I'm going to be 100% honest I think she was trying to repress it herself. This isn't to say that she is AT ALL "at fault" for what happened after and she should've gotten help even if she wasn't ready to fully discuss the issue but I genuinely think she herself was still coming to terms with things, so she didn't necessarily process the full impact before talking to Curly, and a lot of what happens occurs after they're laid off- like this delves into personal interpretation but I genuinely think Anya only registered Jimmy as a serious danger after his outburst towards Curly. Ofc my interpretation is limited bc of the limited pov in game and not having gone through what she has, but it personally reads more akin to coercion over time than a singular Obviously Violent incident (like. Not to say that Sexual Assault isnt violent in nature, just that coercion often specifically works to obfuscate the fact it is a form of violence.) The layoff is a Massive catalyst for her bc of Jimmy, in that she now has a very clear understanding of his capacity for aggression.

To extrapolate a little from the "Dead Pixel" conversation, she starts by saying she Likes The Screen (even though it's fake). While Curly has his quotes about the pixel "not ruining the illusion" which. Y'know is Symbolic Of His Flaws. She doesn't say the pixel ruins it, just that she can't get it out of her mind.

If we take the pixel to represent her Or jimmy, either way the way she talks about it kind of downplays things, like it's a Minor Thing that's Slightly Upsetting, but she's still okay with the big picture. Idk I could be 100% wrong but that is my take

Besides that, Anya tells curly she's pregnant 2 days before the crash, and it isn't until she outright states it that he starts Putting The Pieces Together. I want to note, he says "I'd do anything" and "this doesn't have to go on our performance evals" 1. Before he knows shes pregnant 2. Under the assumption she might attempt suicide, and I doubt he even thought about her using the gun on anyone else before she brings that up. He says literally before the line where she tells him she's pregnant that "being laid off isnt a reason to hurt [herself]". Like I've seen ppl talk about the performance evaluation thing like it's about her and jimmy, but I think he's referring to (his belief) that she might attempt suicide or similar which might genuinely be a consistent thing he's seen her struggle with, given she's able to go through with it. Also just to note: assuming their society is like ours (hellish) reassuring her he won't blab Abt her mental health is like. Genuine reassurance- lots of mentally ill ppl will Not Open Up bc it could have long term consequences (like. For example. On employment) ANYWAYS I hope it doesn't come off like "Curly never failed Anya" but rather "Curly approached this specific situation without the context of why Anya is panicking and (possibly validly) assuming she's dealing with a very different issue"

Also let me say again the time frame is 2 days. We don't Really see what happens, but we know Anya tells Jimmy without Curly knowing. I genuinely believe he maybe didn't do a Great Job in those two days (the fact he says Anya should've talked to Him before telling Jimmy is uhhh. Mm. 1. Your job to create an environment where she comes to you my man 2. Weird to tell her what she should do with HER OWN PERSONAL INFORMATION) but like.

I get a lot of ppl want immediate consequences but consider that they can't really get rid of Jimmy (co pilot. Which is. Y'know it's Own Problems) but also like. Curly knows Jimmy, and we know that Jimmy tends to lash out. Curly should probably Not Confront Jimmy Unless He Knows Exactly How To Keep Him From Hurting Anya. Like I'm not an expert but this is something genuinely important- when confronting an abuser you NEED to take into account the impact it can have on their victim, and sometimes for the victims safety you need to wait until you have a Solid Plan. It sucks but it's important.

And theres discussion to be had about Curly kinda going along with Jimmy saying "well what if we all died" and like. I do believe he Didn't Realize What Jimmy Said. Like he was just processing/trying to keep the situation under control (and failing because he underestimated how willing Jimmy was to hurt everyone including himself).

Like he's definitely an enabler but I would say his problems are mostly before he understands the gravity of the situation, in that he's friends with Jimmy and assumes the best of a man with abusive tendencies, and fails to create an environment that can keep Anya and the others safe. Like, he definitely doesn't handle in game events perfectly (psych evaluation for one- he does do it instead of Anya which is actually helpful, but he still treats it like. Weirdly.)

Idk I have a lot of thoughts about this game and I don't necessarily want to defend Curly but more like. Anya's situation is very delicate (and light on details) so sometimes the way ppl talk Abt it feels like they aren't actually focused on what she wants and what it means to prioritize her safety y'know?

Edit bc I just now figured out kinda how I want to word it: curly is an enabler and making things worse bc he doesn't put a stop to Jimmy's BS, but in the specific scenario we see in game I think he's trying to use his Skillset of like, people pleasing not for Jimmy's sake but for the crews (like "if I nod my head and say I sympathize he won't lash out and hurt them") which like. There are situations which that is unfortunately the safest option (on an individual level yes, but sometimes it's also necessary to prevent abusers lashing out in response toward ppl who are more vulnerable) but it was the Wrong Choice.

It's like. I think Curly was trying and had good intentions, and understood that he needed to protect the crew, but he didn't have the toolset/experience to realize he can't Just go along with things and that he needs to be able to set hard limits, even for ppl he likes and trusts. Like he failed but the failure was "for want of a nail", where it began way before what we see (for want of an understanding of power dynamics I guess.) Again, don't think this makes curly more forgivable or whatever, I just think he's a good example of trying to make the right choices when you never realized you'd have to make these kinds of decisions and therefore are unprepared and/or unaware

Second edit: personally I don't think you can really incapacitate jimmy without there being serious risk (again he's the copilot) but curly should've given Anya the gun when she told him Abt the pregnancy

[ratatatastic]

scare the hoes more and keep yapping about ekky (& others) getting used to maffhew, it delights me. and say even more about how sasha handles this feral and sweet omega that gets dropped into his orbit. smth smth “feels like i’ve known him 10 years” or whatever vows sasha recited to the press, cameras, and god

apparently we are taking more tumblr user ratatatastic abo yap thoughts for 500 may god hear our screams up wherever he is. big man in the sky you fuckin owe me one.

i think theres so much in particular to say in concerns of 1619 and how quickly they gelled irl but even more so in an abo au

ive always enjoyed when people assign matthew stronger scents that take getting used to if you don't like it already and i know ive read a fic where his scent notes did skew towards stronger cinnamon foods/drinks

anyways on that note it wouldnt surprise me that sasha takes so easy to this spicy little omega.

Like of course he does, he smells like the pastries he used to eat back at home, the pastries he eats now because he's found an established Finnish bakery down here that makes them homemade every morning, the bakery he likes to frequent with the other Finns when he can.

Is it ever a wonder that the cute omega that sent him such a terribly sweet text when the trade news broke out (you know, after the initial excitement worn off because Sasha does chuckle at memory of the brash "Fucking, right!" that pinged on his phone the very first time from an unknown number) smells like... home... No matter all the rumours that have swirled around Matthew, the rumours Sasha has personally experienced himself playing against him...he smells nostalgic. Like Sasha could be at home right now—you know, home home—lounging outside his cottage with tea and pastries on the little table that he's set out. The warm cinnamon that wafts from the typically sterile room they've assigned for pressers smells divine, for lack of a better word. It smells indulgent. Because Sasha can't have those homely pastries all the time, what, with his training regiment.

It's why he doesn't quite believe it that Matthew's the one that's the centre of it all. He's absolutely convinced he's hallucinating because the season is about to start and he's had to cut back on all his favourite sweets as much as it pains him to but for the betterment of the team? He'd do anything. And yet despite the way he rubs at his nose to at least try to clear it, he smells that cinnamon. That cinnamon that's definitely coming from new omega they traded over who's laughing so obnoxiously at the lectern they have set up that if his scent didn't catch your attention, his loud mannerisms certainly did. His voice is practically bouncing off the walls in big loud echoes that should hurt Sasha’s ears. Emphasis on should. As it is he finds his heart melting more than it should instead.

It's been quite a long time since someone's scent has moved him this much. All the people that have, have been in his life for so long he's forgotten what it's like to feel instant scent compatibility. His nostrils are flaring and he's trying his best not to open his mouth to huff in big gulps of it because it's rather impolite to be so obviously scenting the new guy. It could be misconstrued as Sasha taking offence to the new presence in the room.

Some part of his brain is still trying to catch up to the idea that Matthew even smells at all because the first time he met him (down here for some joint offseason ice-time) he didn't particularly smell like much, if at all really. Whether it's because he put on blockers to not intrude on pack territory until he smelled more like them, or he was still on suppressants even in the summer, Sasha wasn't sure and he definitely wasn't going to ask about it.

Known him for 10 years? He feels like he's known him his whole life. But 10's a safe number, 10's a number that won't scare off this new omega, right? 10's a number that conveys "As Captain I want this to work out, I'm opening up my pack for you, I won't shun you, you're welcome here," and not "If I stick my nose in your neck right now to scent you, they're gonna have to forcibly evict me from the new home I've found in you, and it's not gonna be a pretty outcome."

It's also why he's a little nervous when Media Day is over because despite how much it dragged along in years past it practically blitzed by and now Sasha has to—

You know, properly scent the new addition. Give them the purring acceptance of their Pack leader's scent to carry with them. And it's nothing big, it's just some chaste wrist rubbing... something subtle and not too overwhelming for everyone: the pack, and the newcomer alike. It's not like Sasha is going to mouth at Matthew's neck glands. He doesn't think he can even handle that right now but that's a problem for future Sasha—for when Matthew is really part of the pack and not like a goldfish in a plastic bag being dunked into an aquarium to get used to the water temperature. He just has to rub his wrist against his, it's like basic Alpha etiquette. It'll be fine, mostly. He hopes.

And it's as anticlimactic as he thought it'd be: gentle reintroductions and reignited chatter of excitement about the new season that's about to start... maybe just with the new lingering scent of sweet and spice in the background as if someone lit up a candle without Sasha even noticing it. It's a struggle to keep his eyes from closing from how heavy they feel, from how relaxed he feels in the presence of this new omega he knows has pissed him off on several occasions as composed as he was about it.

Matthew presents his wrist in a flourish successfully managing to divert his attention back to what they're supposed to be doing all alone like this in the dressing room like this, "I'm sure you've been dying to do this huh, Cap?"

Sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. He knows? Sasha doesn't think he's been sending off any signals that could've hinted otherwise but Sasha admits that he's well out of practise, he hasn't had to reign in his scent this much in such a long time, and maybe Matthew picked up his weird fixation—

Matthew waggles his eyebrows for extra effect an offbeat later when the joke doesn't seem to land the way he wanted it to.

Oh, thank Christ, he's just teasing him. It's a joke. He doesn't actually mean it in the way Sasha thought he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I have," Sasha chuckles in relief, shaking his head at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood.

"10 years, or so I've heard, bud."

"You heard? Uh, listened to the..." he trails off.

"Kinda hard not to when the setup made it sound like you were in the middle of the Earth, my guy. I don't think my ears are ever gonna recover from that."

"It's the first day for everyone," Sasha lightly chastises, not particularly aggrieved at all but wanting to keep up the banter to stall for time, so he can prepare himself. Quite honestly he feels like travelled back in time to the young anxious Alpha he was breaking out into the league for the first time.

"Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Right, gentle. I'll treat you better than my clothes on the delicate cycle."

"Is that supposed to be a line?" Matthew says in glee, his voice pitching into incredulity.

"Line like fishing?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I'm talking about! You've been in this country long enough to pick up on that!"

"Yes, yes, that."

Matthew shoves at his shoulder playfully. "Just go on and do the thing already."

"Doing the thing."

Matthew snorts but his wrist is limp in Sasha’s hold. And as much as it was a dumb joke he does feel delicate between his fingers like that. So delicate that when he rubs his own wrist against his—to transfer over their pack scent—he feels like he's going to break it if he holds onto it for too long. It's why he drops it as quick as he took it, hands scrambling to his sides in an effort to remain polite but also to get a handle on himself so his pheromones don't go haywire with the new stimulus. It's a bit of a losing battle because he knows his scent just. But he can play it off as the excitement of an Alpha being able to claim another member to his pack, it's a possessive kind of thing.

"Well, see you around! Call it a hunch but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." And the joke wasn't funny the first time, truly the equivalent of leaning on the office fax machine and going "You come here often?" to your coworkers who just want to get their work done—and just as sleazy too with the greasy grin Matthew has permanently stuck to his face but Sasha still laughs like he did the first time he heard it.

And it's only now that Matthew is gone that Sasha realises the room smells strongly of cinnamon, so potent that anyone with a working nose would be able to tell that. Like Matthew was doing his best to ease Sasha’s obvious nerves when Sasha should've been the one to calm the omega who's been uprooted from their own pack and thrown into a completely new environment, himself.

"Jesus, it reeks in here. Smells like cinnamon," Aaron wrinkles his nose, wandering back in after his own media duties were done, finding Sasha all alone in the locker rooms.

"It does?" Like he can't tell the room smells like the equivalent of someone knocking over a Yankee Candle into an open fire.

"Yeah, like an awful lot." Aaron scrunching up his nose, trying to fight off an incoming sneeze. "It's strong," he says without thinking, swallows before his eyes shift over to Sasha and then to the floor, "Not bad just... strong..." The I can get used to it is left unspoken between them.

"I like it," Sasha admits because if Aaron is confessing to things without thinking then he might as well too. They've known each other long enough.

"I can tell." Aaron snorts, "You reek too."

Sasha lets out a questioning little noise, tilts his head to the side as he silently urges Aaron to continue.

"You have no idea what cinnamon and cardamom smell like together, do you? I feel like I walked into a bakery when I should be at the gym right now."

"Is that bad?"

"For you? No, of course not," Aaron's eyes soften, and while his scent wasn't anywhere close to abrasive, it does lighten up just a tad bit in the presence of his pack Alpha. "For me? I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of coffee beans." A bit of an exaggeration on Aaron's part but the wry grin he has on really adds to the fact he's just joking—just a little, maybe there's some truth hidden in there. He knows how Aaron is, the way he tries to downplay anytime he bristles about something. Peace and vibes, and all that.

So Sasha can joke as well, "Forsy's stall is over there," and motions his head towards it across the room.

"Oh, hilarious."

"If I was funny I would say jock."

"You know, what? I think I will hit the gym today, thanks for reminding me."

"Mmm, anytime." And when Aaron's half out the door he adds, "Ask the staff where they put the jerseys we used today!"

"I'm going! To the gym!" he echoes back, not bothering to turn around as he shuffles down the hall in a hurry, and decidedly not going in the direction of the gym. It's not surprising when he hears chatter pick up and shoes scuffing briskly into the direction of the laundry rooms.

[longagoitwastuesday]

I actually like the last chapter. I think the ideas are very good. I have my qualms on how some things were managed, as I always do, but I think shonen authors get tangled in the expectations of a shonen to the point it jeopardises their writing, often even when they're not lacking in skills

[medicinemane]

At least I could disable the suggestions but just... I'm sick of it, I'm sick of companies trying to think for me

I'd rather be miserable but doing shit my own way than placid and glass eyed and just taking whatever companies tell me to

Like... literally just asking what I get out of writing a post on tumblr... zero suggestions, just letting me say whatever dumb stuff comes to my head

[lususnatura]

blamore when he's in love with someone is like the epitome of ' how deep is your love. ' and honestly, in addition to that song being a banger (the bee gee's has made a lot of those in my opinion though NGL LOL), i say this because it really is that lover who silently wants their partner to give them ALL of their love and who is that ride or die whom won't let anyone break them down + will always have a 'it's both of us versus the world' mindset.

because whenever it comes to love... it is all or nothing with blamore. which means he will be completely devoted to whoever this partner at the time may be, and will kind of have an unspoken expectation that they'll also be devoted to him, but in a very sweet way like twin-flames or something. Because, and don't tell it i said this (nahhh, i'm just kidding around with y'all LOL i know he isn't real ofc but you know the vibes), the plant-hybrid is sort of a romantic deep down

[muirneach]

46 minute psychoanalytic russian interview with andrey? i’m so sat.