#or reblog old posts from time to time to keep this semi-not dead

[voidedsoul5]

OKAY HERE WE GO, ANALYSIS AND THEORY TIME.

Spoilers for the new TMP episode (Ep 8)

NOT ONLY did we get my babygirl back (Who definitely has something going on with him but we'll go back to that later) we also got another hint about one of my other working theories about Celia and this universe... I am losing my mind rn and I need someone to talk to about this even if it's just screaming to the internet void. More below cut. Split it because it's a semi-long post.

I think Gertrude is for SURE coming back at some point, literally no reason for her not to especially considering I don't think TMP team is going to pull the 'But this time she's actually just an innocent old lady' thing. It's cheap, and she likely knows stuff that will come up later when (I believe) she still has worked at the institute before it burned down due to her age. Plus, someone had to have cleared out those files.

Gerry is happy and it makes sense. Gerry in TMA was trying to be a kind person, but he'd witnessed too much and seen too much to be able to do that. In this world, if the fears didn't exist Mary would've likely not been AS deranged. OR mary might not have existed at all given Gertrude claimed Gerry as his grandson. Removing Mary, Gerry really doesn't have a reason to be so reserved and abrasive. HOWEVER. I think there's a possibility that isn't his actual personality. The happiness (as mentioned in the unofficial transcript) is maybe a bit too played up. I wouldn't mind if this is just how he was, a slightly erratic messy artist. But pairing him specifically WITH gertrude in this universe stood out to me. So here's my mini theory.-I'm not saying it's drugs, or Gertrude is casting black magic or something, but I do think she's doing something to keep Gerry out of this 'mess'. Even if that's just living with him and helping him have a normal life as a painter. Gertrude has always had a soft spot for gerry in TMA, in this universe where she's probably not as battle-hardened, trying to keep him safe and out of it all isn't out of character. Mostly, this idea just came from the fact that she tried to brush it off, then seemed disappointed when Gerry spoke about the gifted kids program, despite him being well enough able to speak for himself. She probably doesn't want him involved. This however all relies on the context that Gertrude knows stuff. Honestly, she might just be his grandma that he now lives with either for rent reasons or because his parents might be dead. It could honestly be that simple, I just like rattling off ideas.

CELIA KEEPS DROPPING HINTS OF KNOWING SHIT. SHE KNOWS SOMETHING. SHE KNOWS THINGSSSS. I have another post about my TMA theory of these reoccurring characters from TMA beginning to remember things from the TMA world. Its so incredibly on the nose for her to immediately start asking questions about the 14 fears WE KNOW, ask about alternate universes, AND BE THE ONE WHO PUSHED SAM TO LOOK INTO MORE STUFF ABOUT THE PROGRAM (Sam said it was her idea at the end of Ep 8) I don't know exactly how thisll work, but I get more and more convinced each episode that this theory has some merit.

And this is a small one, but blah blah Norris reading a paper about loneliness, isolation, and hostile architecture blah blah blah metaphors symbolism blah blah you get the jist

I rlly just wanna talk about this show to anyone, I don't have friends who've seen TMA or TMP so my only option is talking about it here. PLS feel free to talk about your own opinions and ideas in reblogs and shit. I don't care if they counter mine I just wanna talk about this show I love it sm </3

[poisonedspider]

poisonedspider: INDIE roleplay blog for ANGEL DUST (ANTHONY) from HAZBIN HOTEL. Incredibly NSFW muse. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Spoilers present. Canon divergent. Semi-selective. Medium activity. Multipara/Novella literate writer for 20+ years. Multiverse and multi-ship. Mostly head canon based representation of (one) famous porn star. Mature and triggering content present, must be 21+ to interact. Blog will explore extreme trauma, abandonment, s*xual assault, physical violence, death, etc. Mutuals only, please! Authored by Strode, he/him, 30+. Re-established April 2024 (originally wrote in July 2019). Please read rules under the cut on this post.

Stand-alone blog, not strictly affiliated with the Hazbin/Helluvaverse and community (and certainly not in support of Vivzie). Open to any and all characters and interactions. Let it be known I am NOT AN ASK BLOG. Personals are allowed to follow, but will not be followed back and will be BLOCKED if they keep interacting with my stuff. Do not reblog this post.

Angie's main bitches: @featheredbarkeep, @sirserpentine, @veelentino, @hazbinned, @mothvalentino, @widdlestwucifer, @doublejango, @grimowled, @voxxisms and @hzbinsouled.

Don’t be an asshole. Literally my number one rule, and basically my only rule. This is a hobby. We are nerds writing as fictional characters. I’m too old to feel in high school again. If you don’t like what I write, the block button is a function. Block me, and move along. Forget I exist. I do not participate in call out culture, and will not be forced to choose sides.

Memes are definitely the best way to interact with me. I personally will turn all memes into threads, as I feel that’s the point of them. You don’t have to necessarily continue them, but I’d appreciate if you did because I put a lot of thought and energy into my replies.

Never feel the need to match my length (I write a lot), but also know that I reserve the right to delete a thread if I don’t feel like what you wrote gives me enough information to write a well thought out reply. Also always feel free to delete threads I send to you that you no longer have muse for. This is for fun, it isn’t a homework assignment. You don’t need to explain yourself on your own blog!

I don’t work full-time, but that doesn’t mean I’m not constantly busy. I’m traveling almost every other weekend, and I’m trying to put my energy into being off Tumblr if I can help it. I may not always have the spoons to talk or do replies, even if you see me online. Just please be patient with me!

There will be a LOT of R-rated material on this blog. Almost everything will be NSFW - look at the show content, and especially this character. I do my best to tag all triggers, but please let me know if something specifically triggers you and I’ll edit it to be tagged right away so you can blacklist it. I’m still going to keep writing it, though. This is my blog. It is not my duty to make sure that you have a safe space, and if you don’t feel safe, I will not be remotely offended if you unfollow to keep your dash what you want it to be. It’s kind of impossible to write Angel and Angel’s story without some triggers coming up (Episode 4? Yeaaaah.)

Personals, do NOT reblog things. It already happened from the hour I made this blog, and it will become an automatic block. This is a roleplay blog. Period. I am also not an Ask Roleplay Blog, so while I may respond to some of those things in jest, it isn’t the purpose of this blog. Hazbin fan blogs and whatnot, leave my stuff out of it. If you continue to do this, I will report your blog. 

Angel Dust is gay. He will not be having romantic relationships with any females in the show. The only way he would ever be with a female, is if for whatever reason Valentino decided that he needed to sleep with a woman for his porn. Which I can’t see happening but….yeah. 

Speaking of Valentino, the way I play Angel is him still definitely within the confines of the contract. He might do things he is ashamed/embarassed of and doesn’t want to actually do because of the contract. Dubcon will probably be explored on here to some degree because he struggles saying no to Val. That doesn’t stop him from fighting back, but he’s going to do some gross things because his soul is owned. Also, my Angel does have love for Val. That doesn't mean I ship them AT ALL. It means that I have no shame as a therapist in exploring the cycle of abuse and toxic relationships, and that this is incredibly important to my Angel's story.

This being said, dubcon would be the only thing I'd put under a Read More because I know other people hate it. I don't really intend to write it out, but people could argue that Valentino using his 'poison' is considered dubious consent, and yeah, I'm going to write that and flesh it out a bit. As for other read mores, I'm lazy and it ain't gonna happen. You followed a character who is a sex worker. There's going to be smut. Murder. Cussing. That's the content of the show. I have no shame putting it out in the open. As mentioned, you can check the trigger warnings on my posts before reading something.

I’m a multipara/novella roleplayer. I’ll do some one liners and crack stuff, but it won’t be as common. I want to have elaborate threads. I want to flesh out this character. I’m going to come up with things about him that Vivzie doesn’t and make him a little bit my own. And that comes from writing, writing, writing. If I don't reply to you, it's probably because I can't work with one liners and I am stumped.

All the graphics and whatnot on this blog were either created or commissioned specifically by/for me. (I know I’m not a fabulous photoshop graphic maker but hey I tried). Do not steal from me. If I find out that you have, I will report your blog for theft. Majority of the graphic work on here is done by both @cerberuscommissions and @17webs.

DO NOT GODMODE. I will literally scream, cry, and throw up (okay, not literally). This is my blog, and I want to control Angel in my way. Please and thank.

I don't necessarily need people to reblog from the source, but if my activity is blowing up with the same person reblogging and reblogging, I'll kindly ask you to stop. If you continue, that will lead to a block because I already have hundreds of drafts and don't have time to swim through activity.

Sorry fam, I don't do Discord. I've had a few people ask, and while yes I do have it, I have it with a burning fiery passion. All roleplaying will be done here and here alone, because I like to have a Tumblr blog as a sort of 'archive.'

As for the mains (listed above), to not be discouraged just because I have mains. I was avoiding choosing them for a bit because I hate how it can feel like favoritism, but the fact of the matter is that there are unfortunately people on here that Angel has much more muse for, and that I talk to ooc almost every day. Those people get first priority. Let it be known that does NOT mean they are exclusives. As mentioned, I will be writing with every single character, no limitations. Nor are there any rules specifically associated with my mains. Mostly just means they get priority on things.

I don't have any triggers. Period. I appreciate people asking me if such and such is okay in a thread before we do it, but really, just do whatever your character feels they would do. I'm a therapist. And sure, therapists have their triggers too. But I've been exposed to so much shit that nothing really phases me anymore.

I do not own the character Angel Dust or any content from Hazbin Hotel. I am not associated with Vivziepop and am in fact an Anti-Viv blog (please don't associate me with her). Shocker, I know. But gotta put that on here. 

Tldr; Be chill, have fun, don’t follow if don’t like hypersexuality, severe trauma, or sassy gay men.  

[grimmwolf]

⚠️ DNI ⚠️

DNI right off the bat cuz it’s important

🤬z••s + supporters, anti therian, anti otherkin DNI🤬

🤬hunters, trappers, taxidermists, supporters DNI🤬

🤬animal part collectors/buyers/sellers, etc. DNI🤬

🤬vulture culture, “oddity” enthusiasts, etc. DNI🤬

🤬⚠️‼️All of these things = animal abuse⚠️‼️🤬

🤬I am against all animal abuse, DNI supporters🤬

🤬There’s no such thing as “ethical”, that’s crap🤬

🤬If support/neutral, go, this is my safe space🤬

🤬Also pro-shippers/self-shippers can go too🤬

……

INTRO TIME cuz everyone else has one apparently-

Asks are always open btw :)

Ps. That means ask me things :)

Helloooo my name’s Maddy or Grimm. This is my Nonhuman etc. blog. So I’ll be posting and reblogging whatever identity related stuff here, some memes maybe. Anyhow, here’s…

Some stuff about me~

• I’m 20 years old in this body, and my birthday is on the 25th of May.

• I’m a straight cis female, so she / her pronouns would do just fine.

• I’ve been awakened since about 2014 ish, and I’m a spiritual Therian, Otherkin, Alterhuman, Nonhuman, Fictionfolk / Fictionkin, however you wanna call it 😂 Meaning I believe all if not most of my identities / kintypes are rooted from alternate lives, such as: Past, Future, Parallel, and Dream lives. I also display traits of experiencing some sort of age / pet regression, but I’m not sure if I fit the label entirely. But regressors are welcome here if you follow the dni! I try to keep the place as safe and family friendly as possible 😊

• Only a handful of my identities I’ve discovered are semi psychological tho. But they are not derived from imprinting, neurodivergence, or trauma. I also prefer to use the term identity, instead of therio / kin / ficto type etc.

• The label I use most in terms of my nonhumanity, is Omninonhuman! A term I coined for myself. Meaning I identify as all animals, beings, creatures, nature, etc. Basically anything and everything that’s nonhuman! Including, but not limited to: All earthly and non-earthly animals, beings, creatures, extant, extinct, insects, dirt, grass, plants, trees, flowers, fungi, rocks, stone, metals, crystals, water, land, sky, clouds, biomes, magical, mystical, mythical, mythological, supernatural, celestial, cosmic, galactic, divine, holy, unholy, infernal, universal, etc. Though, I connect more with wolves, or just canines in general lol.

• I have depression, social anxiety, body and species dysphoria. Are name, personality and voice dysphoria a thing as well, perhaps? Lol. Also I’m a vegan for the animals :)

Some fandoms I’m in + interests of mine~

• Animals

• Anime

• Art

• Black Butler

• Canines

• Creepypasta

• Demon Slayer

• Detroit: Become Human

• Dinosaurs

• Dragons

• Dungeons and Dragons

• Fantasy

• Five Nights at Freddy’s

• Genshin Impact

• Harry Potter

• History

• Hobbit

• How to Train Your Dragon

• James Cameron’s Avatar

• Jujutsu Kaisen

• Lord of the Rings

• Marvel

• My Hero Academia

• Obey Me!

• Omegaverse

• Paleontology

• Period Pieces

• Photography

• Pokémon

• Red Dead Redemption 2

• Sci - Fi

• SCP Containment Breach

• Slenderverse

• Supernatural

• Twilight

• Wings of Fire

• Wolves

• Zoology

Some hobbies of mine~

• Adding pins on Pinterest

• Collecting Merch ( Figures, plushes, posters, etc. )

• Creating playlists on Spotify

• Drawing

• Listening to music

• Photography

• Playing video games

• Reading

• Sleeping

• Watching YouTube

• Writing

Some fun facts about me~

• I absolutely love animals. I aspire to be an Animal & Nature Conservationist / Own an animal rescue ( domestic or wild ). I am against all forms of animal abuse, agriculture, cruelty, exploitation, use, etc., as I am a true vegan through and through, and so I do not support the therian real animal part gear obsession. If you support that or other related things, do not interact with me.

• I absolutely love talking about my alternate / past lives, even though I may not know a whole bunch about them. And I would be more than happy to listen to others speak of their lives as well! Alternate / past lives in general are all very intriguing to me

• I’m a huge fan of Pewdiepie and Markiplier. I watch their videos everyday, they just make me so happy. I love to laugh, and they make me laugh more than anyone honestly. They’re my gods lol

• I have a habit of either capitalizing words that don’t abide by the laws of human grammar. Or I alphabetize every thing I list. Oh, and my favorite colors are beige, black, cream, gold, gray, lavender, tan, and white :3

……

…Did you notice it?

Anyway! As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a spiritual otherkin. Meaning I believe I’ve had past or alternate lives of my kintypes! That being said, here are…

My identities / types’~

( From first discovered to most recently discovered )

• Angel

• Fallen Angel

• Earth Angel

• Dinosaur / Paleo / Raptor Shifter

• Merfolk / Draconic - Like Sea Being

• Divine Leader / Goddess

• Spirit / Universe / Goddess / Guardian

• Demon / Unidentified Being / Other bbkin ( Black Butler )

• Canine Cryptid / Shifter / Werecanine / Werewolf / Werefolk

• Alien / Angel / Unidentified Being

• Draconic Fae / Shifter

• Standard / Traditional / European / Western Dragon / Wyvern / Shifter

• Eywa / Na’vi / Pandoran

• Night / Light Fury / Goddess / Other httydkin

• Dragon / Other ratldkin ( Raya and the Last Dragon )

• Fae

• Other Mariokin

• Other Spyrokin

• Other Kirbykin

• Blue / Sea / SeaWing / Water Dragon

• Desert / Sand Dragon / SandWing

• Forest / Green / Nature Dragon

• Celestial / Cosmic Dragon

• Abyssal / Eldritch Dragon

• Black / Darkness Dragon / NightWing

• Gold / Golden Dragon

• Fire / Red Dragon / SkyWing

• Air / Blue / Sky / Wind / White Dragon

• Ancient / Imperial / Standard / Traditional Asian / Eastern Dragon

• Other WoFkin ( Wings of Fire )

• Omni Pokémonkin / Other Pokémonkin

• Other GenshinImpactkin

• Other LionKingkin

• Other mhakin ( My Hero Academia )

• Other RDR2kin ( Red Dead Redemption 2 )

• Other Alpha&Omegakin

• Other Marvelkin

• Other Supernaturalkin

• Other Twilightkin

• Other Creepypastakin / Proxykin / Slenderversekin

• Android / Divine Cryptid / Eldritch Angel

• Machine Shifter / Omni Machine kin / Other Horizon: Zero Dawn / Frozen Wilds / Forbidden West / Burning Shores / Call of the Mountain kin

• Other Omegaversekin

• Other Howl’s Moving Castle / Studio Gibli kin

• Aquatic / Dark / Drow / High / Light / Moon / Silvan / Snow / Sun / White / Wild / Wood Elfkin

• Other dbhkin ( Detroit: Become Human )

• Conceptkin / Dimensionkin / Existencekin / Galaxykin / Levelkin / Planekin / Realitykin / Realmkin / Worldkin / Universekin / Vibrationkin

• Other Twilightkin

• Other hbkin ( Helluva Boss ) / hhkin ( Hazbin Hotel ) - ps. I do not like the shows or the creators

• Dhampir / Vampire

• Other scpcbkin ( SCP Containment Breech )

• Other FarCrykin

• All Beast / Other bnakin ( Brand New Animal )

• Other Hook / Neverland / Pan / Peter Pan / Tinkerbell kin

• Other dndkin ( Dungeons and Dragons )

• Other potckin ( Pirates of the Caribbean )

• Other fbkin ( Fantastic Beasts ) / hpkin ( Harry Potter )

• Other Hobbit / lotrkin ( Lord of the Rings ) / Medievalkin / MiddleEarthkin

• Medievalkin / Other Skyrimkin

• Other Okamikin

• Other gowkin ( God of War )

• Other Grishaversekin / snbkin ( Shadow and Bone )

• Alien / Amphibian / Dinosaurian / Draconic / Kaiju / Machine / Mecha / Pandoran / Reptilian

• Other asekin ( Ark: Survival Evolved )

• Other revkin ( Resident Evil: Village )

• Dark Fae / Other Maleficentkin

• Other fnafkin ( Five Nights at Freddy’s )

• Other dskin ( Demon Slayer )

• Other jkkin ( Jujutsu Kaisen )

• Other trkin ( Tokyo Revengers )

• Chimera / Trico / Other tlgkin ( The Last Guardian )

• Alien / Avian / Canine / Draconic / Feline / Pandoran

• AI / Alien / Android / Bot / Canine / Code / Cyber / Cyberware / Droid / Drone / Firewall / Future / Glitch / Hardware / Machine / Malware / Mech / Mecha / Program / Robot / Tech / Technology / Virus

• Other Transformerskin

• Other Cyberpunkkin

• Other ldrkin ( Love, Death & Robots )

• Other aotkin ( Attack on Titan )

• Other tgkin ( Tokyo Ghoul )

• Other gotkin ( Ghost of Tsushima )

• Other ackin ( Assassin’s Creed )

• Other twkin ( The Witcher )

• Other Nimonakin

• Lizard / Scavenger / Slugcat / Vulture / Etc. / Other rwkin ( Rain World )

• Alien / Alien Jackal / Alien Vulture / Bioraptor / Hellhound / Mud Demon / Etc. / Other Riddikkin

• Celestial / Cosmic / Divine / Galactic / Holy / Universal Creator / Deity / God / Goddess / Guardian / Saint / Planet / Solar System / Galaxy / Universe / Reality / Mother Earth / Life / Moon / Nature / Sun / Death / Light / Dark / Demeter / Gaia / Existence / Nonexistence / Etc.

• White War Wolf ( Asgardian / Marvel / Norse )

• Canine Spirit / Fox Spirit / Gumiho / Inugami / Kemonomimi / Kitsune / Komainu / Lion Dog / Magical Canine / Mythical Canine / Mythological Canine / Nine Tailed Fox / Nogitsune / Okami / Okami Spirit / Raccoon Spirit / Supernatural Canine / Tanuki Spirit / Wolf Spirit

• Child Fortune / Luck / Wealth Spirit

• Demon / Devil / Ecstasy / Emotion / Encubus / Euphoria / Feeling / Fiend / Heat / Hell / Hormone / Incarnate / Incubus / Infernal / Instinct / Love / Lust / Lust Incarnation / Pleasure / Primal / Romance / Rut / Sensation / Sex / Sexual / Sexuality / Stimulation / Succubus / Touch

• Other Spiritkin ( Spirit of the Cimarron )

• Other Elementalkin ( Disney )

• Other SlyCooperkin

• Other RiseoftheGuardianskin

• Other StrangeMagickin

• Other ObeyMe!kin

• Other MysticMessengerkin

• Other Otomekin / ShallWeDatekin / Voltagekin ( Dating Sims )

• Other KungFuPandakin

• Other Lucakin

•Other TurningRedkin

• Other Baldur’sGate3kin

• Other HotelTransylvaniakin

• Spirit / Wisp

• Other Siren’sLamentkin ( Webtoon )

• Other AnimalCrossingkin

• Other Tangledkin

• Other lolkin ( League of Legends )

• Other atkin ( Adventure Time )

• Mermaid / Selkie / Siren

• Alicorn / Hellhorse / Hippocampus / Kelpie / Magical Horse / Mythical Horse / Mythological Horse / Pegasus / Thestral / Unicorn

• Kirin / Magical Deer / Mythical Deer / Mythological Deer / Qilin / Peryton

• Centaur / Cervitaur / Faun / Satyr

• Griffin / Griffon / Gryphon / Hippogriff

• Amphiptere / Amphitere / Amphithere / Magical Avian / Mythical Avian / Mythological Avian / Phipthere / Phoenix / Quetzalcoatl

• Black Dog / Black Shuck / Canine Spirit / Church Grimm / Cu Sith / Divinehound / Fox Spirit / Enfield / Gumiho / Heavenhound / Hellhound / Inugami / Kemonomimi / Kitsune / Komainu / Lion Dog / Magical Canine / Mythical Canine / Mythological Canine / Nine Tailed Fox / Nogitsune / Okami / Okami Spirit / Raccoon Spirit / Supernatural Canine / Tanuki Spirit / Wolf Spirit

• Other twdkin ( The Walking Dead )

• ( Behemoth ) / Gorgon / ( Gorgonus ) / ( Gorgun ) / Leviathan / ( Nag ) / Naga / Quetzalcoatl

• Other hsrkin ( Honkai Starrail )

• Other WuWakin ( Wuthering Waves )

• Other zzzkin ( Zenless Zone Zero )

• AI / Android / Bot / Code / Cyber / Cyberbot / Droid / Drone / Firewall / Future / Glitch / Hardware / Machine / Malware / Mech / Mecha / Program / Robo / Robot / Tech / Technology / Virus

• Heavenhound / Divinehound

• Other mckin ( Minecraft )

As you can see from my identities listed, I have about 122 discovered identities, and most likely counting. I’d like to make it clear that I am not “adding to any kin list” or “kinning for fun”. I am completely certain and genuine about my alterhumanity and my many identities.

I have entire playlists of some of these lives on Spotify, that help me connect with them more. I figured out how to link my Spotify, give it a listen if you’d like. So here’s…

My Spotify~

……

Anywho, see ya! Also pls interact, I want friends / mutuals with similar kintypes 🥲

……

[sansxfuckyou]

Fight fire with fire

Summary: Kyle is Kennys soulmate, the only problem with that is they both fall under the same ranking- it goes anywhere and everywhere but where Kenny expected when Kyle realizes it.

Warnings: Omegaverse, the talk, panic, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: *hits post button with the strength of a day old rat* day six woohoo. school is fucking me up big time, but i did draw something semi-artistic in advance so no fic tomorrow. hope ya'll enjoy this one, if you do maybe consider dropping a reblog or checking the ao3 port

It started in grade eight, right around the time many would present with their ranking. Alpha, Beta, or Omega, and there were always a few who fit the gray areas in between without scientifically accepted terminology. In grade eight, when you would would wake up and know that something is different. You'd wake up, walk downstairs and all eyes would be on you as they take in the new, still-forming scent and figure it out.

And then you'd go to school and the teachers would take a small blood sample around your scent gland and put it in a machine. They were always kind enough to keep it quiet around your rank, something for you to boast instead. They'd hand you a slip of paper after class and send you off to return the next day with the information.

In South Park, things are a little bit different, you have to figure it out on your own.

"Ha! I bet Kyles gonna end up an Omega," Cartman snickered to as the aforementioned redhead walked into the class.

He looked completely calm and collected, and Cartman didn't like that. He sat down at his desk and simply ignored Cartman instead of antagonizing. Three years ago he gladly would've thrown words and fists with him but he's mature now. He's presented now and he plans full well on holding that over his friends heads because he hit the moment first. (Unless Stan, Kenny, or Cartman also presented in the dead of night like Kyle did)

Stan picked up the slight difference first, "Did you get your rank last night dude?"

Kyle nodded, "I had to take a two hour shower to wash off the residual scent man, I would recommend against presenting."

"So what are you Kyle? An Omega?" Cartman teased in a singsong voice.

"Yeah man, what are you?" Kenny chimed in with, leaning over his desk a bit.

"An Alpha," Kyle answered with, grinning smugly.

And Cartman burst out laughing in disbelief.

"You're joking! You have to be, you can't be an Alpha! You're obviously an Omega!" Cartman exclaimed, still laughing all the while. He shut up the second Kyle had him pressed against his desk, hands pinned behind his back and the corner of the desk jutting into his thigh. He gave a weak wheeze of a laugh, "Idiot," Then he kicked and it hurt (a lot) but Kyle didn't falter.

"I can't be an Alpha, right? Then prove it, give me a command," Kyle snarled out, venom clear as day on his voice, "Everyone knows Omegas crumble even under unranked fuckers like yourself."

Cartman just laughed as best he could, "Fuck off Kyle," The edge required for a command wasn't present.

Kenny placed a hand on Kyle shoulder, "Dude, let go of Cartman."

Kyle glared at him, digging his nails into Cartmans wrists.

"Let him go," Kenny demanded and Kyle heeled like a dog whether he liked it or not. His grip on Cartmans wrists came undone in a second and he stepped back.

"Fine," He spat the word, "Tell him not to be an asshole and I won't do it again."

Stan simply stared, "Maybe you are an Omega dude."

"What?" Kyle turned around so fast it could give him whiplash as the word burst from his mouth.

"You just followed Kennys order like a pet dog," Stan said calmly, aware that Kyle wouldn't hurt him or pin him.

Kyle paused briefly, "And? He's my friend, I was just taking his advice."

"Don't be so insecure, we won't make fun of you if you're an Omega," Stan said, it only stoked the fire in the pit of Kyles stomach more.

"It'd be a good balance to have one Omega in the group, more than two Alphas would lead to self-destruction," Kenny explained and Kyles glare was sharp as an axe.

"What makes you so sure anyone else in this group is gonna be an Alpha? Let alone two?" Kyle questioned, watching with rapt intrigue as Kenny rubbed his wrists together.

Scent glands, he was exfoliating them to release more pheromones- but he had no pheromones. Or really weak ones, he still hadn't presented and the scent of a rankless person would do nothing to calm down Kyle. Or whip him into a frenzy, whatever their purpose they wouldn't work.

Kenny grabbed Kyle and pressed his inner wrist against his nose, the second strongest scent gland on the body held just under his nostrils. He tried to lessen his breathing as Kenny held his wrist to Kyles nose, it was incredibly awkward. Kyle simply scowled and held his breath.

"Just breathe," Kenny said, letting go of the back of Kyles head, "I'm not chloroforming you with my wrists."

Kyle took a deep breath, the heady scent that Kenny held hit him impossibly hard. He coughed a little bit as he staggered back at the oak and cherry scent (there was alcohol but that was just his homes scent rubbing off on him). It burned his nostrils just a bit but in a good way, if felt almost right and he swears the scents all meld into one reminiscent of a wine he snuck at Stans house

"Fuck man, that's pungent," Kyle said, still trying to get it out of his lungs.

"I was presenting when I woke up this morning, took a long ass shower and hoped to god my parka would cover the scent," Kenny explained, "Apparently it did."

"Kennys an Alpha too? What a fucking world," Cartman muttered out as he pulled out his desk chair and sat down.

Kyle gives a hum of amusement, "That means you and Stan are gonna be our Omegas at the end of it all."

"What makes you think I'll be an Omega?!" Cartman snapped.

"It'd be funny," Stan answered with bluntly.

"Super funny," Kenny chimed in with.

Cartman paused, heat coiling under his skin uncomfortably, "What about our soulmarks?! We still gotta wait for those!"

"Don't worry Cartman, until you get your mark I'll help you with your heats," Kenny taunted in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"Shut up!" Cartman snapped.

Kyle leans forward with a bemused hum, "No, you shut up," He holds a commanding edge to his tone and Cartman obeys it, keeping his mouth shut.

"Man I wish I presented," Stan managed wistfully, "Being an Alpha looks like fun."

"It is," Kenny and Kyle said in near unison.

-/-/-/-

Both Kyle and Kenny were brought aside in class, led down the same brightly lit hall, and left standing in front of a door. They didn't dare turn back with their teacher standing over them imposingly. Instead they looked around to find Cartman and Stan being led into two separate rooms. It was all oddly suspicious, and somewhat worrying, but in the same breath all too familiar in the worst way possible.

"Is this sex ed?" Kenny asked bluntly, tugging together the pieces in his head.

He got no response.

"So that's a yes," He got a little bit quieter.

"Gross," Kyle said, shuddering at the notions alone of listening to a teacher drone on about sex once more. Last time this happened their teacher barely knew how the basics of straight sex worked, even without putting ranks into consideration.

"Dude, it'll be fine, there aren't a lot of Alphas this year, mostly Deltas and Betas," Kenny said, placing a reassuring hand on Kyles shoulder, "Besides, you and I both know I'll correct anything they get wrong."

Kyle gave a weak laugh as he pushed open the door, "Totally."

Inside the near empty room sat two others from when they were young, the rest of the desks vacant. Wendy Testaburger and Tweek Tweak sitting up front and idly chatting as the brightness of the projectors light illuminated the dark room. It took a second before Kyle and Kenny made their way in, taking a seat beside Wendy.

"Where's everyone else?" Kyle asked in a hushed tone.

Wendy shrugged, "They probably knew what day it was and skipped on purpose."

"That explains why half the class was fucking gone," Kenny said, "Everyone knew the teachers don't know the difference between a heat and a rut am I right?"

"Totally," Tweek agreed, nodding his head as he spoke.

Kyle glanced haphazardly around the room, "Do you know when the teachers coming?"

"No clue," Wendy said, "How do you think Cartmans doing?"

Kenny hummed, as though deep in thought, "If their teacher is on time then I'd say he's just about to learn he can get pregnant."

"For real?" Tweak asked.

"Listen closely," Kenny said.

And is though it were on cue, a muffled scream of horror originating from Cartman could be heard coming from across the hall. Then a door opening and being slammed shut followed by heavy footsteps.

"Like I said," Kenny stated smugly.

"Christ how much do you know about sex?" Kyle asked.

"More than expected, I was talking about all sorts of weird shit way back in grade school man, you should know I know my stuff," Kenny said, a sly smirk held on his face.

"If the teacher messes up too much you'll pull us aside and correct them, right?" Wendy asked, tone far too serious to dare interpret as joking.

Kenny nodded, "Of course Wendy, least I can do for you and your future Omegas sake."

"Could be Beta," Kyle said, drawing out the A as he spoke.

Wendy nodded, "Yeah Kenny, our soul marks still haven't shown up."

"They won't for another t-t-three years! What are we gonna do during ruts?" Tweek questioned, his usual somewhat erratic self showing through.

"We'll ask the teacher," Kenny said nonchalantly as the door creaked open and a teacher walked in.

She turned on the slideshow before making her way to the front of the class. She cleared her throat before speaking, "Not a lot of Alphas this year?"

"Theres a few more than us but they got sick," Kyle said.

"That sucks, you four know what you're here for?" She asked, holding up the remote for the slideshow and turning it to more a comfortable blue tone, few words lay on the slide.

Everyone nodded before answering in a monotonous tone, "Sex ed."

"Correct, today we'll be talking about pre-rut slash pre-heat etiquette," The teacher said as calmly as she could, Kenny held up his hand, "Yes, you in the orange?"

"Will we bring up what to do before our soulmarks show up?" Kenny asked as innocently as he could muster despite having quite a few ideas.

The teacher nodded, "Yes, but for now let's do my curriculum for day one."

A twist of terror formed in the pit of everyones stomach at the notions of this merely being 'day one' of who knows how many. One hour of The Talk way back in grade four was enough to give Wendy nightmares and Kyle nausea, multiple days? It could very well kill them.

"So, if you want to mate, and potentially breed, your soulmate you have to discuss it with them before their pre-heat and your own pre-rut," The teacher said, voice cutting through the tension and making it worse, "Bring it up however you'd like to do so, but I'd suggest having it on paper, for legal reasons."

Everyone stayed quiet.

"Now, once you've made an arrangement you simply wait for their next heat or your next rut, for best effects wait until you've synced up. If your Omega is female than she'll be able to conceive when she isn't in heat if you're in a rut, if your Omega is male you have to wait till he's in heat. When their pre-heat begins they'll nest and do what they usually do," The teacher explained, Kenny already knew it. She flipped to the next slide. "It's up to you to notice and get consent once more before the heat begins or else it's considered illegal."

"It is?" Kenny asked without raising his hand, "Cause I've heard that South Park is making the idiot move to lift that law, making it unpunishable if previous agreements were made before pre-rut slash heat

"Illegal or not it'd still be considered rape and heavily punishable, especially if they conceive," The teacher said sternly, "Do not do anything without full consent, even if it's to a Beta cause they can still get pregnant, understood?"

Kenny nodded, "Please, continue."

"Alright now, I'm sure all of you have underwent a rut at least once already, correct?" The teacher asked.

Everyone reluctantly nodded, a twist of discomfort at disclosing the information despite the fact it was a normal. They all knew it was part of the education but fessing up to a normal biological function in front of a crowd was awkward.

"Pre-ruts are a little bit different than pre-heats, for one, Alphas usually don't go brain dead in the same way. They usually remember to eat food and drink lots of water," She said, rambling a bit, "But, you will have to keep the doors locked so you don't end up meandering into public in an impaired state. I'm sure you've heard of the cases for people who have? Plenty of lawsuits are in order."

That was just a little bit horrifying, the notions of being so brain dead they'd just go out there and fuck the first Omega in sight regardless of soulmark. They also knew that before society was as far along as it is now that things just worked like that and soulmarks were burned off.

"Lock the doors and the windows, make sure you have enough food littered across your roaming grounds for when you fully enter your rut. Let your friends know to stay away when it happens, especially if they're a lower rank. If it's Alpha to Alpha than really only a small amount of violence will happen before scent recognition tries to kick in; you'll both live," The teacher said calmly, "Alphas usually don't nest but some do, so don't be alarmed if you end up doing so, just ask your Omega for tips."

Wendy held up her hand.

"Yes, purple?" The teacher said.

"What are roaming grounds?" Wendy asked quietly, nervously at that.

"The roaming grounds are your territory, your own personal area, for most living on their own it's their whole home, for you guys I'd say it'd merely be your room," The teacher explained, "Now, any other questions?"

Kyle raised his hand.

"Green hat?"

He bit his lip in anxiousness before speaking, "What if both you and your soulmate are Alphas?"

The teacher laughed, "That almost never happens, and when it does society usually gets rid of them one way or another."

Kyles blood turned to ice, "Oh."

"Unlike two Omegas being soulmates, or two Betas, Alphas can't reproduce," The teacher said, "And as you all know that's highly frowned upon. Even with surrogate Omegas involved an A4A couple is usually shunned unless in the case of previous soulmates dying off and bonding over that."

"Well that's horrifying," Wendy said bluntly, "Couldn't be any of us."

"Definitely not," Kenny said, "We have the benefit of the doubt."

-/-/-/-

It truly went downhill on Kyles eighteenth birthday, two months after Kennys and the day that he gets his soulmark.

Way back during Kennys eighteenth birthday it was just him and Cartman hanging out for the night, waiting for his mark to appear. Playing video games, indulging in the oddly decadent dishes Liane would offer, laughing and having a great time despite the 'unfortunate' aspect of Cartmans biology. He ended up an Omega, the only one in their quartet, mere weeks after Stan presented as a Beta. His rank didn't do shit to deter the consistent broship he's had with his friends since the earliest days of kindergarten.

Still, he was distraught when word first came out and he was forced to come to terms with it, he was just lucky that he had two Alphas who wouldn't take shit to protect him. He'd never say out loud how much he appreciated the intimidation they did for him now that his rank was out in the open. Or that he appreciated the time Stan would spend to calm him down whenever he's been whipped into a frenzy by some stupid kid. But they all got the point when he shut up just a little bit more about Kyle being Jewish and Kenny being poor and whichever of Stans problems was on the table.

"Dude, it's like, ten PM," Cartman began with a yawn as he looked at the digital clock beside his bed, "I think you might be mateless."

"Bullshit, I just gotta wait a little bit longer," Kenny said, mashing more buttons as the screen flashed bright red indicating another kill.

Cartman shrugged as he stood up, "Okay man, I'll be back."

"With cheesy puffs?" Kenny asked.

"Obviously," Cartman answered with a roll of his eyes.

He left the door open on the way out, calm colors of the small TV screen filtering into the hallway. Kenny gave a sigh as he dropped backwards onto Cartmans bed and glanced at his wrists and then his ankles. Absolutely nothing, barely a hint of that scar tissue hue that shows up before the inky black. He gave a groan of annoyance before flipping over onto his stomach, stress tingled over his body. Normally he would try to quell that stress, make sure no one could smell it on him, but he knew that Liane would be a stand-in mother for a moment if she had too.

Maybe he was mateless, his mark sure as hell isn't showing up and the clock is ticking ever closer to twelve. Life would certainly be miserable if he was a mateless Alpha, those usually never crop up. It'd just be him and whatever job he managed to get until he found an unfortunate soul to bond with. The thought alone makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable sense of dread.

"Dude," Cartmans bluntness tugs Kenny out of his thoughts.

He rolls onto his back, "What?"

"I could smell you downstairs, you're so fucking stressed right now it's not even funny," Cartman said as he sat down next to Kenny, placing a bag of cheesy puffs on the other side of his form. He rubbed his wrists together, "You're totally gonna get your mark."

"What if I don't?" Kenny asked quietly, the comforting fuzziness that Cartmans scent brought him slowly working through his system. His scent was like pink cotton candy, an overwhelming amount of cotton candy, only offset by the hint of pine needles. It was certainly an odd scent but everyone agreed that worse ones were out there.

Cartman placed his hands on either side of Kennys head, palms planted firmly in the sheets. All Kenny could catch was the sugary sweetness of Cartmans scent, "Then I guess our FWB arrangement will become permanent even after I get my mark."

"Thanks man," Kenny said, reaching up to push aside Cartmans hand. He pulled himself up and crossed his les, "Puffs?"

Cartman gave him a handful, "Puffs," He glanced over Kennys form, eyes catching on something before lunging.

The McCormick recoiled, "Dude!?"

"Your ankle!" Cartman exclaimed as he pressed his hands on the reddening patch of flesh.

"Not funny," Kenny got out as he pushed off Cartman with ease. He looked down at his ankle and found it was scarring up with his mark, a euphoric sensation shot trough him, "Holy fuck."

"Dude this is so cool," Cartman got out as he took a bite of a cheesy puff.

Kenny stared with intent as it finally settled on it's form, hue beginning to darken. He traced the thin lines of the pattern curiously, "What symbol is it?"

"No clue," Cartman said as he reached for his phone, "But the internet might know."

He snapped a picture of the mark before putting it into image search and waiting patiently for results. He hummed a bit as it loaded up, Kenny still fixated on the mark as it came too. It was one continuous line, a small hoop with two little sticky outy bits.

"Well?" Kenny asked eagerly.

"Says here its the alchemy symbol for death," Cartman said, a small chuckle on his voice, "Fitting considering how often you die."

Kenny rolled his eyes, "Fate loves to play cruel tricks on me doesn't it?"

"Next thing you know fates gonna revoke your soulmark," Cartman said with a laugh.

Kenny lightly punched him in the shoulder, "Too soon."

And now, two months after the shot of pure ecstasy that Kenny had gotten at the sight of his mark, he's waiting patiently with a couple others for Kyles to show up. The sun is still high in the sky, what with it only be five in the afternoon and spring. He's absolutely giddy, sheer excitement emanating from every pore in his body.

"What do you think it's gonna be?" Stan asked.

Kyle shrugged, "Hopefully something unique."

"I think it's gonna be a star," Cartman said, alluding to something but trying to keep it on the down low, even he knows you only turn eighteen once.

"What if it's a skull?" Craig asked.

"Well a skull is obviously Kennys soulmark," Butters stated as though it were matter of fact.

"Yeah guys, my soulmark is definitely a skull," Kenny said as he rolled his eyes. He rubbed his ankles against each other, pushing down the cuff of his pant leg to cover the mark more. He did enjoy it, he just didn't want anyone to really know- the only reason Cartman knew is because he saw it happen.

"Everyone shut up!" Kyle snapped, he pointed to his wrist, "It's happening."

It was happening, his skin reddening just a bit to that scar tissue hue in a large patch. Then it calmed down again, defining itself just a bit more before a pitch black filled it in. It was rather simple for someone as complex as Kyle, one line, a thin line. No extra little details here and there, just an odd looking loop attached to two stems with little bits on them. It looked familiar to Cartman, like he'd seen it before even though that's stupid. There was no reason for him to have seen a copy of Kyles soulmark until now when Kyle got it.

Then realization hit him hard.

He quickly glanced up to find Kenny looking impossibly uneasy. He looked like he was about to run away or vomit, his hands stuffed in his pockets nervously.

"I have to go feed the cat," Kenny managed to get out stiffly, taking a step back.

"Dude you don't have a cat," Kyle said, raising a brow- Kenny tried to send a subtle pleading look to Cartman.

"That's cause he's feeding my cat, he's taking care of it while moms out of town," Cartman butted in with.

"You should take care of your own cat," Kyle said.

Cartman gave an offended gasp, Kenny stepped back again, "I'll have you know I take great care of kitty."

"Oh yeah?" Kyle challenged, Kenny turned around to leave, "The how come Kennys taking care of it?"

"I'll have you know homework sucks and takes a lot of my time," Cartman spat defensively.

Kenny barely got out in the chaos that was forming.

-/-/-/-

Kenny isn't sure if you can go into a pre-rut through vigorous stress alone but it certainly feels like he is. Every nerve in his body is on fire in the worst was possible and he's nesting. He distantly feels shame for cocooning himself up in the corner of his closet but he just wants to hide from society and Kyle alike.

If a person in power finds out, both him and Kyle will be culled or ran out of town because they can't bring anything to society. And if Kyle finds out he'll panic because what happens when his parents find out? He'll freak out and try to distance himself from Kenny as much as possible for safety.

Kennys stomach does flips at the notions of having Kyle leave him, leave all of them because of him. He'd rather burn off his mark and say he just never had one then fess up and ruin Kyles life. But then again putting him on a wild goose chase for a soulmark that doesn't exist anymore is just as cruel.

What is he even supposed to do?

Well, first he freezes up at the sound of his window sliding open and someone climbing in. He knows it isn't a robber because his family sure as hell can't afford anything worth stealing. Which narrows it down to three people, Cartman, Stan, or Kyle- and he's never wanted to see Cartman more in his life than right now. He pushes himself deeper into the pitiful pile of blankets and pillows he calls a nest, he tugs the drawstrings on his parka a bit tighter.

"Kenny?" Came Kyles soft voice floating across the stagnant air into Kennys ears, it lit an uneasy fire in Kennys stomach, one he wanted to snuff.

He drug himself out of his nest before stepping out, eyes landing on Kyle. Poor, vulnerable, unarmed Kyle. Someone who'd end up with a better life dead if he finds out who his soulmark matches with.

Kenny can't stop his reflex from firing until it's already begun. Kyle is pinned under him on the bed and he freezes up near entirely. Labored breathing resting heavy by his head and the quake of Kennys form above him. Grip on his wrists sweaty and weak, the scent he catches is more distress than anything else.

"Leave," It's supposed to be a demand but it comes out far too cracked.

"Kenny get off of me," Kyle commands, holding his voices edge like a knife as he watches his friend stand up and back away. His face is red and he looks distraught, hands up in surrender.

He takes a shaky breath, "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry Kyle," His voice cracks as he leans against a wall, sliding down it.

Kyle stands up and brushes himself down, ignoring the racing sound of his heartbeat, "It's fine, instincts or whatever, you could've just said your pre-rut was coming on."

Kenny shakes his head, "Not, not just for that."

Kyle steps over to him, "Then why are you sorry bro.

The McCormick reaches to the cuff of his pants and tugs it up. He outstretches his leg and points to his soulmark, inky black as the day it ruined his life, "This."

Kyle stares for a moment, "Oh."

"I'm sorry," Kenny got out quietly, "I can go die in the woods if you want me too, go live a hermit life so I don't ruin yours." He draws his knees to his chest as he speaks.

Kyle sits down on his knees in front of him, "Kenny it's fine."

"It isn't, they'll ruin us Kyle, they'll throw us out and crucify us," Kenny said bluntly, trying to keep his voice even.

"No, Kenny, this is perfect," Kyle said, Kenny lifted his head a bit, "I always needed an excuse to kiss you."

"What?" Kenny managed to croak out.

"I just, thought you would find it weird cause we're both Alphas," Kyle said, bringing his hands to one of Kennys before placing their wrists together. He's hesitant to actually rub, "Scent mark?"

Kenny nodded, "Do it, please."

Kyle rubs their wrists together easily, his own scent bursting atop Kennys as they mixed a bit. Kyles scent was like like mandarin oranges and creek water, a cold and refreshing smell atop the burst of fruit. He took a deep breath, "I've sorta had a crush on you for a while."

"Feelings mutual," Kenny choked out.

Kyle placed a hand at Kennys cheek and he whined as he leaned into the touch, "No one has to know."

Kenny gave a weak laugh, "Cartman does."

"You told him?!" Kyle snapped.

"No, he was there when my mark appeared so he knows we match," Kenny explained as he placed a hand on Kyles.

"He's gonna spread so many rumors," Kyle grimaced.

"He knows better, why do you think he defended my shitty excuse?" Kenny asked with a raised brow.

"Good point," Kyle said, he placed a small kiss to Kennys forehead, "Love you bro."

"No one has to know?" Kenny asked desperately.

Kyle shook his head, "Naw, Stans pretty smart so I wouldn't be shocked if he deduced it right then and there."

Kenny nodded, "You're smarter."

Kyle gave a hum, "Thanks."

"I'm sorry for running off," Kenny said quietly.

"Dude stop saying sorry, you're not a fucking Canadian," Kyle said bluntly as he stood up and held out a hand that Kenny gladly took.

"Our childhood is built on Canadian entertainment, watch your mouth," Kenny said defensively.

"Make me," Kyle said with a smirk.

"You're lucky I'm not actually in pre-rut right now," Kenny said, a predatory grin on his face.

"Oh I look forward to it," Kyle said.

[kimblewrites]

oc/writing asks for reblog courtesy! whichever WIP you've worked on most recently

The Scream, American Gothic, Guernica, Creation of Adam, and The Last Supper

Thanks for the ask my dude :) answering for The Ego Hypothesis: The Scream: are there any moments in this work that you think could scare a reader? Are there any moments where the characters themselves are profoundly scared?

-> Any scene that involves Ego overheating is what comes to mind for the most overtly scary scenes for the reader and the characters off the top of my head. However, Ego's first time being in a driving car absolutely terrified it.

American Gothic: what's one relationship between characters in this work that you think people wouldn't expect? (i.e., how the people in American Gothic are not married, they're the painter's sister and dentist)

-> Jin and Rinnah have a patient-neurologist relationship. Rinnah also dated Isaac's sister pre-story. I think the character relationships in this story are relatively straight forward and semi-predictable, but I think I've just spiced some up.

Guernica: look through a few of your imagery/descriptions in this work. Are they generally straightforward, or are they more "abstract"?

-> While I try to make certain things straightforward instead of needlessly wordy, I absolutely love abstract and vivid imagery. Going to go ahead and post a quote here that I'm proud of:

The first time he’d seen a corpse was when the old beggar man on the side of the road due west of his childhood home fell over dead in the night. He had remained there at the cross streets all morning, as those who saw his body had looked away and gone on to wherever they needed to be instead. The summer heat had facilitated a rancid, rotting stench, and there had even been some concern from his mother about whether or not he had contaminated the water before the insects and cleanup crews got to him. Jin tried to picture [XXX] like that- bloated and discolored, rigid and soft in all the worst places. The scientist only succeeded in making himself ill.

Creation of Adam: choose one character that is not present at the beginning of this work. How did you introduce them into the story?

-> Most of the characters in this story are introduced fairly early on, but Andrew doesn't come in until towards the end of Chapter 2. He sort of just,, stumbles in on Jin being insane (he proceeds to ask this poor computer science student to do brain surgery on him at like 3 in the morning). Hashtag just intern things.

The Last Supper: does this fic incorporate any symbolism based on religion, theology, or mythology? If so, give an example.

-> ohoho YES, absolutely. The work is very inspired by the concept of "God became Man so that Man might become God". There is also a scene where a theology professor and an integrated intelligence basically have pillow talk about religion. You know that Creation of Adam-inspired picture with the robot hand reaching out to the human one? That's the spotify playlist cover for this work. Can you tell I love theology and religious themes?

Thanks so much for the ask! Keep 'em coming, guys :)

[mandoalorian]

Happiness [Maxwell Lorenzano x f!Reader]

Author’s note: Please heed warnings before you read. This is angst. There’s a little fluff and a few spicy moments, but at its core, this is a pretty angsty read. It’s a different interpretation of Maxwell, post WW84. Reblogs are so appreciated. I worked really hard on this and it’s not showing up in tags so if you could reblog it... it would literally mean the world to me :( <3

Summary: After the dreamstone debacle, Maxwell Lord loses custody of his son, his home, his job and all his wealth. He has nothing, and what was once the simple task of ‘living’, is suddenly proving to be extremely difficult. Until a beacon of light enters his life. He can only hope that you don’t find out who he really is.

Word count: 4000+

Rating: 18+

Warnings: depression/suicidal thoughts, PSTD/trauma implications, poverty, starvation, binge eating, allusions to sex, male masturbation, food and drink mention.

Masterlist

Max is usually pretty good at keeping himself to himself, but when he hears the commotion from outside his small shanty apartment, he cautiously stalks towards the front door and leans into the wood, gazing out the peephole. He spots you, struggling to unlock the door located on the far side of the hall. Your arms are filled with brown paper bags and an abundance of cardboard boxes circle around your feet. He hears you curse as you drop one of the paper bags. It rips, and groceries spill onto the floor with a clatter. He swallows thickly, feeling his tummy grumble at the sight of fresh fruit and colourful veg. Max hadn’t eaten a single meal this week.

He spends a few more seconds watching you struggle, before the guilt swarms over him and he feels like a creep. He does wonder if he should leave his apartment and help you out though, but eventually he decides on turning his heel and walks back to the torn leather sofa. He just knows he’ll be some kind of intrusion on you. If Max has learned one thing, it’s that he needs to stay away from other people. Otherwise, he’d just hurt them. Even if hurting them was the last thing he intended to do.

Still, he finds himself marvelling over you. He wants to go over and introduce himself. He thinks you’re absolutely stunning. Maybe it’s just because he hasn’t seen a woman (other than his ex-wife) in just short of a year, or maybe it’s something more genuine -- like the way you wear your hair or that glimmer in your eye. Once upon a time, Maxwell would’ve strolled on over to your apartment with the utmost confidence and charm, with the sole intention of winning you over and taking you back to his place. He wouldn’t dare do that now.

He stares at the wall clock, and watches as the minute leg ticks. It’s painfully slow. It’s 5:52pm, and Maxwell is just waiting until 6pm, because he knows at 6pm he can call his son, Alistair. If he tries calling a second earlier though, he is certain his ex-wife will throw a rage, claiming that he’s breaking court order. Maxwell had never been one to follow rules, but now, he didn’t have much of a choice. As he waits for the leg to strike 6, all he can really do is think about you. Truth be told, he hates that he’s thinking about you this much. He doesn't even know you.

But you’re so pretty. Your features are soft and delicate. Your clothes fit you perfectly and hug your body in all the right places. He can’t help but think what you sound like. He wonders if you’re from around here. He wonders why you moved into this particular neighbourhood, out of all the other neighbourhoods in rural D.C. He should go over and say hello at least. It would be the polite thing to do. He considers bringing over a bottle of wine to make a peace offering, but then he remembers all he has in his refrigerator is a stick of butter and a bottle of milk that has grown old and fermented. He assumes that you probably wouldn’t care for such housewarming gifts.

Maxwell calls Alistair as soon as the clock turns six. As always, Alistair is more than excited to speak to his dad, beaming brightly down the line. Alistair tells Maxwell about his step-father, and how he’d built a pool in their back garden for Ali and his mom. Max’s lips curl into a frown when he realises that his ex’s new husband is giving Alistair everything Max couldn’t. And once again, Maxwell feels like he has failed as a father.

For a short while, Alistair babbles about his day at school and how he got full marks on a pop quiz. Maxwell is as proud as punch. He has no doubt that success will one day find Alistair, he just hopes Alistair has an easier time handling it. Max can hear a faint yelling in the background of the phone call and eventually Alistair is interrupted.

“Oh-- mommy is calling me to eat dinner.” Alistair says softly, his voice suddenly growing oddly timid. Max’s stomach grumbles again at the mention of dinner.

“But we still have ten minutes left of our phone call.” Max replies matter-of-factly. He hopes Alistair can’t hear the disappointment in his voice. This isn’t his fault. He hears his ex yell again and Max can’t help but feel his face harden with disdain.

“I know, I’m sorry daddy, but I have to go.” The croak in Alistair’s voice is enough to break Maxwell’s heart. He wishes this could’ve been different. It should’ve been different.

Max knows he can’t argue though. It’s only futile. So he accepts the fact that Alistair has to leave the phone call early -- at least he was getting something to eat. Maxwell remembers when he was Alistair’s age. His mom always struggled to put food on the table because his dad would spend all the money on drinks at the local bar. Maxwell is just grateful his son isn’t starving.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Maxwell reassures before taking a shaky exhale. “I love y--”

But then, the line went dead. Max assumes that Alistair’s mom has ripped the phone from his hand and hung up. Sighing, Maxwell forces himself to stand up and walk on over to his bedroom. The bed is unmade and there are several piles of dirty laundry all over the floor. He jams open the sticky window and climbs onto the balcony, inhaling the cool evening air and lighting a cigarette. Smoking was a habit he’d gotten himself into when he was much younger, but he’d grown out of it when he’d hit limelight. Now though, it was growing back in to be a shameful addiction that he just couldn’t shake. It helped him stop feeling hunger, though.

As he flicks the orange lit ash over the edge of the balcony, his eyes catch on you again. You are standing on the street, talking to some guy. You’re laughing, and it looks like this mystery man’s hand is caressing your arm. It’s probably your boyfriend; Maxwell assumes, and the pang of jealousy in his chest turns into unadulterated sadness as he realises he was probably never going to find love again. He peers over the edge of the balcony once more as he takes a final drag of the cigarette, and he wonders if the jump would kill him.

Maxwell’s eyes begin to sting, and he climbs back into his bedroom, knocking his head on the window pane in the process.

He can’t sleep that night, and he tosses and turns in his three quarter sized bed. He could feel every spring in his mattress. What he would give to just sleep one more night in the soft, plush king sized bed he used to take for granted. He switched on his amber tinged bedside lamp and swatted away a moth that flew towards it. Maxwell stared at the ceiling and wondered if the damp had gotten worse. Even if it had, it wasn’t like Max had the courage to bring it up with the landlord.

He finds himself thinking about you again. He lived to see the way you smiled when you spoke to that guy, or the way your hair blew ever so slightly in the evening breeze. Max wraps his hand around his semi-hard cock and begins to jerk himself off. To nobody’s surprise though, he doesn’t finish -- the overwhelming feeling of revolt consuming him. He thinks he’s disgusting, and that nobody would ever want to touch him. He can’t even stand touching himself.

He falls asleep not long after that.

Max once had a pretty decent sleep schedule, going to bed at 10 and waking up at 6. But now he was up until the early hours of the morning, overthinking and hating himself. He wakes up three or four times a night from the same recurring nightmare. It’s a replay from the clear night of July ‘84, when he took over everyone’s TV screens. His doctor prescribed him therapy for it, which would probably help, but Maxwell just can’t afford it.

He wakes up to the sound of a bang on his front door. Max scrambles to his feet in a panic, checking the time on his alarm clock. It’s 2pm. And the person at the door could easily be his landlord, finally having enough and kicking him out. Max’s rent is two months overdue.

But it’s not his unforgiving landlord. It’s you. And you’re holding a fruit basket.

“Hey neighbour!” you smile pleasantly before introducing yourself to him. “I just moved in across the hall. I wasn’t sure what you’d like… but I figured everyone likes fruit!”

Maxwell stays quiet, standing there in complete disbelief. No one has shown him this amount of kindness in so long…

The prolonged silence makes you feel a little strange. He still hasn’t accepted the fruit basket, nor had he said anything. He was just… staring at you. It wasn’t a slimy gawk. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what his dark eyes were trying to tell you.

“—I’m sorry,” you continue eventually when he doesn’t speak, dropping the fruit basket by your side and turning away. “I uh— would you like me to get you something else?”

Maxwell’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head. “No!” he exclaims, opening his front door wider and taking the fruit basket from you. “I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I uh— I love fruit.”

You smile at his fluster, and you swear you notice a rosy pink blush cross his cheeks. It’s adorable.

“Oh okay, that’s good then.”

Maxwell prays you can’t hear his stomach grumble at the sight of the fresh fruit. He’s so excited to eat it all. “How can I repay you?”

You raise your eyebrows at his proposition and chuckle awkwardly. “Repay me? No no,” you laugh. “It’s just a fruit basket,”

It wasn’t just a fruit basket though. It was the only food Max had.

“I mean, you could tell me your name.”

Maxwell curses, realising he hasn’t even introduced himself. Gods— he wonders when exactly he’d lost his charm.

“Right, I’m sorry. I’m Max.” He extends his arm and offers you a handshake. You giggle, but accept.

He feels a bolt of electricity run up his arm when your fingers interlink with his, and he wonders if you can feel it too.

“Very formal Max,” you acknowledge with a smile.

Maxwell genuinely hasn’t communicated with anyone since July 1984. It’s probably about time he ditches the businessman persona, although he doesn’t realise he still uses it from time to time. Old habits die hard.

“I must say, I feel like I recognise you from somewhere.”

“No. You don’t.” Maxwell quickly snaps back and you’re afraid you struck a nerve.

There’s a longer silence and you find yourself wondering about your neighbour. He’s right in front of you and yet you can’t help but feel as though he’s some kind of enigma. Maybe it’s the crinkles in the corner of his eyes or his wry smile.

“Um…” you mumble, your gaze trailing behind him as you try and peer into his apartment. You can’t see much though. From where you stand it looks very empty… and brown. “If you weren’t busy tonight maybe you could come over and we could get to know each other. I uh-- don’t have many friends yet.” you explain shyly, nervously biting your lip.

You didn’t usually get nervous talking to new people, but there was just something about Maxwell that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His presence made butterflies flutter in your tummy and your hands feel clammy with excitement… or maybe anticipation. He stares at you blankly before clearing his throat.

“I uh-- yeah I mean-- maybe,” Maxwell shrugs cooly. “If I’m not busy.”

Pft, busy. Max hasn’t been busy since the dreamstone debacle.

“Of course,” you nod your head and smile. “Well, you’re welcome to come on over anytime.”

And then, without thinking, Maxwell replies. “And you’re welcome to come over here anytime too.”

You feel your smile grow into a grin and you reach out, placing your hand on Max’s arm. “Okay, well, it was nice meeting you.” you bite your lip.

Max’s heart stops when you touch him, and for the first time, he doesn’t flinch away. You’re holding his bicep and… he likes it. It’s not sending him into a spur of anxiety, in fact, he feels better just for finally plucking the courage to talk to you. And now you’re touching him. You’re not repulsed or disgusted… in fact, you’re smiling. You look happy, and maybe Max is happy too. Maybe. Max doesn’t even realise the small smile that’s crept upon his lips.

“Nice meeting you too.” He swallows and you wave goodbye.

He watches you walk back into your apartment, drinking in your appearance. You were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt today. It was casual… but he liked it.

Even when he finally gets back into his apartment and slumps against his front door, he’s still smiling. This feeling is so unfamiliar.

Maxwell finds himself pondering whether or not he should visit you tonight. He so desperately wanted to see you again-- see your pretty face and sparkling eyes and that perfect smile. Maybe Max could have a friend. That would be nice.

But he quickly gets scared again. He knows immediately that you’re too good for him, and that he’ll only end up hurting you. And then he’ll be left alone again. Max doesn’t know if he can survive another heartbreak.

Once again, he lights a cigarette and sits on the balcony, and wonders if the jump will kill him.

Then he realises he suddenly doesn’t want to die. At least, not yet. He wants to see you again first.

Max doesn’t even bother finishing the cigarette. He taps away the ash and climbs back inside, stripping himself of his clothes and turning on the shower. If he was going to see you tonight, he’d at least make the effort.

The soap he uses is from Dollar Tree, and it doesn’t really have a scent. It made a change from his favourite Jo Malone pomegranate fragranced soap, that’s for sure. He gets annoyed trying to squirt out the very little remenints of his shampoo bottle. Although he doesn’t have much, he’s satisfied when he comes out of the shower. He feels clean and fresh.

Maxwell rakes through his tiny collapsing wardrobe, trying to find an outfit that will make him appear somewhat presentable. He’s probably overthinking this whole thing -- after all, it isn’t exactly a date. But he still feels the strong inclination to impress you. He so desperately wants to be liked by you.

Most of his everyday wear is stained or ripped or very aged. But then he spots the small duffel bag at the bottom of his closet and he remembers he packed some of his old business wear when he moved out of his manor and into this apartment. He hadn’t looked in the duffel bag once since moving though, afraid that seeing the clothes would unleash some kind of trauma on him.

Max crosses his legs and hesitantly unzips the black bag. Inside, he finds a few fitted shirts, a few tailored pants, and one suit jacket. He even spots a belt and two patterned ties. He’s a little upset though when he can’t find the suspenders he used to wear. They were always his favourite part of his outfit.

Maxwell can’t bring himself to dress in the whole get up, but he does pick out a white button down shirt and grey pants. He tucks the shirt in, and wraps the belt through the loops in his pants, clicking it into place. Opting to look slightly more casual, Max leaves the first two buttons of his shirt undone and rolls the sleeves up to his elbows.

And for the first time in a long time, Max likes the way he looks. He wishes he had some cologne to spray, and he could definitely do with a haircut, but this is good enough.

He doesn’t want to seem desperate, so he does wait (albeit impatiently) until 8:30pm to see you. In the meantime, he eats over half of the fruit basket. He tells himself he’ll stop after an apple and an orange, but strangely enough. He can’t. He can’t stop. It just tastes so good and he’s so hungry -- so he eats until he feels sick. He wants to lie down because he really doesn’t feel too good at all, but he’s not going to pass up this opportunity to see you for anything. He feels a little cold, so he throws on his suit jacket which is grey in colour and matches the tailored pants. Max chokes down a glass of water, straightens up his posture, and knocks on your door.

He’s not waiting for long, and he’s delighted when he sees you answer the door. Your lips are painted a ruby red colour and you’re wearing your hair differently. Not only that, but you’d changed out of your sweater and jeans, and now you’re doting a knee length flowy dress. Your feet are slipped into some fuzzy looking slippers though, and Max admires the small diamond stud earrings that you don. They really bring out the colour of your eyes.

“I was hoping you’d come.” you reveal nervously, opening the door wider and looking your neighbour up and down. He looks so incredibly handsome in his change of outfit. Max feels himself blush under your gaze and he smiles.

“I just couldn’t pass this up.” he laughs nervously.

You move out the way and gesture for him to enter your apartment. Max notes that it’s roughly the same size as his, but it’s already filled with more furniture. Judging from the plentiful cardboard boxes in every corner, you hadn’t finished unpacking either. You find yourself watching Max as he takes in your front room. You take his jacket and hang it on your coat peg which stands by your front door. You definitely do recognise him from somewhere, especially seeing him in that shirt and those pants…

You shrug off your curiosity temporarily though, and take his hand, pulling him into your kitchen. Max loves the way your hand fits so perfectly into his. He doesn’t want you to pull away. And you don’t, until you reach the refrigerator.

“I have cranberry juice, tea, coffee-- no milk though, uh…” you trail off and check the cupboards. You beam when you see the bottle of champagne that your friend had gifted you. It was to celebrate moving out. You present him with it and grin. “Would you care to have a glass with me?”

Max remembers the distinct taste of the bubbles on his lips and he nods in agreement. You don’t have any fancy glasses, let alone flutes, so you pour the pale yellow liquid into two plastic tumblers. You hand one to Max and cradle your own in both of your hands.

“You should propose a toast.” you laugh jokingly.

Luckily, Maxwell has always been able to handle being put on the spot. He only takes a few seconds to come up with something.

“To new friends.” he announces with a charming smile, and clinks his cup against yours.

Max hasn’t had a drink in a long time, so it doesn’t take long for it to reside in his system and he begins to feel a bit tipsy. It’s not bad though. Maxwell is relaxed, and he’s comfortable. You bounce off each other and make each other laugh right up until the early hours of the morning. You bring out Monopoly and you’re surprised at how good he is at it. He gives you advice on buying properties and investments and it truly sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. You wonder what he does for a living.

“I didn’t say this earlier,” Max says as you pour out the last of the champagne. The alcohol has him buzzing with confidence. “But you look breathtaking, really. That dress and those earrings and your lips…”

And you don’t know what it is, but Max just makes you feel so good. “My lips?” you repeat breathlessly, gazing into his honeyed brown eyes.

Max nods wordlessly when you climb into his lap and straddle his hips. You place the palms of your hands flat against his chest and nudge your nose against his, giggling playfully. Max feels scared -- he’d never been this close to anyone in so long, let alone a beautiful woman like yourself.

Gods, he’s so handsome too. A small piece of his hair has fallen out of place and it crosses his forehead. You’re quick to brush it out of his face with your finger, and one of your hands cup his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of your touch, humming in contentment. When he opens his eyes again, they’re noticeably shades darker.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice low like it had dropped a few octaves.

You nod desperately and your lips crash against his.

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the adrenaline but he’s an amazing kisser -- perhaps the best you’ve ever had. You roll your hips over his lap and he moans, but doesn’t break the kiss once. His large hands roam around your back and squeeze at the soft flesh of your thighs. The Monopoly game has been long discarded now, leaving only you and Max revelling in each other’s touch.

You want more. You want him. You dip your hand in between your bodies and find his belt, trying your best to undo the buckle so you can get him out of his pants. You’re certain you can feel his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh, and you’d be right in thinking he wants this too.

But what he wants the most, is to not ruin things between you both, and Max feels like that maybe this is all happening a bit too fast. He doesn’t want to reject you, and he’s afraid of hurting you, but he’s also afraid of you getting so close to him -- that you find out who he truly is, and the things he does. He doesn’t want to lose you because you make him feel so happy. For the first time in potentially years, Maxwell feels genuine happiness. He doesn’t want to fuck up, not when he’s been doing so well.

So he pulls away from you breathlessly and moves your hands away from him. He holds them though, brushing his thumbs in comforting circles against your soft skin.

“I really like you,” he smiles. “And tonight has been… great. You have no idea how much I’ve enjoyed myself. But I-- I really want to see you again. And do this again. And have a good time with you. I just don’t think we should-- you know--” Maxwell tries to explain. He feels bad for rejecting you. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Because trust me,” he sighs, closing his brown eyes. “I really really do. But--”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you smile, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I understand, and honestly, I think you’re probably right. I’ve had a good time too though.”

Maxwell can’t help but beam knowing that there’s no hard feelings between you both.

“So we can do this again?” he asks hopefully.

“Yes.” you reply, pressing a chaste yet sweet kiss to his lips.

You wiggle off his lap and Maxwell stands up. “I should head back home then,” he says. “It’s late. But maybe we can do something tomorrow?”

“I’d like that a lot.” you agree.

Max gives you one final kiss and part of you wants to ask him if he’d be willing to stay the night. You shake away the temptation and tell yourself there’d be plenty more opportunities for him to stay over. Before he leaves, you see him abruptly spin around on his heel and point his index finger towards you.

And your heart drops.

You freeze.

You think you can feel your blood run cold and the colour drain out of your face.

Because in that moment, when he points his finger at you, you recognise him.

You remember him.

You know who he is.

“I almost forgot my jacket.” Max laughs, sliding past you.

You feel like you can’t move though.

This was the man who single handedly almost destroyed the entire planet.

But how -- how could it be Maxwell Lord? He was so sweet and kind and funny. How could the man you just made out with, the man you shared a bottle of champagne with -- your own neighbour…

How could it be Maxwell Lord?

How hadn’t you noticed sooner. Hell, his name was literally Max Lorenzano.

“Goodnight.” Max tells you.

You try and force yourself to say it back but no words come out. Your throat feels dry and you’re panicking.

Max doesn’t even notice though. He’s too busy beaming with happiness when he leaves.

You aren’t sure if you’re going to see him again.

When Maxwell gets back home, he can’t rid himself of the grin that’s plastered across his lips. He sits out on the balcony and lights a cigarette, but this time, when he looks at the ground beneath you, he doesn’t wonder if the jump will kill him.

His eyebrows furrow together when he notices the florist across the road, and he wonders how much a bouquet of flowers will cost him. He wants to get you something; as a thank you for giving him a good time.

He simply can’t wait to see you again.

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[vivid-wisp]

Friday Night Funkin but I compelled a list of every lore/canon thing confirmed about FNF, specifically story elements said by the devs themselves

DISCLAIMER: YOU CAN TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT IF YOU WANT. Despite the devs confirming things, remember they can obviously change their mind. This list includes minor/semi-important bits, so lore you probably don’t know. “Major” lore most people know won’t be on this. Long post. This includes most if not all canon details the devs have stated on their social medias like Twitter, Twitch, Reddit, etc. These are not personal ideas or headcanons. REBLOGS GREATLY APPREICATED.

Boyfriend

- Hair is naturally cyan, not dyed. He is 19 years old. Boyfriend is a college dropout. He likes just speaking in "beeps and boops" sounds, it's not a language. He has ADHD. He's afraid of lightning.

- Both his parents work in accounting, they also own a dog BF has but can't take care of himself. Not known what dog breed it is.

- He and Hatsune Miku are siblings, and because of this BF is most likely asian specifically Japanese. Miku will be aged up to be the older sibling if she ever gets into the actual game.

- He loves pepperoni pizza from Dominos. Loves donuts the most out all FNF characters.

- Him and Pico are exes. This makes BF apart of the LGBTQ+ community.

- BF is very dumb just like GF. This also means he’s very confident, essentially fearless.

- Boyfriend sucks at FromSoftware games. However he's a really good scout player in Team Fortress 2. He's also likely to say "pog."

- Boyfriend is very good at finger board tricks, it’s one of the reasons he won Girlfriend’s heart.

Girlfriend

- She is 19 years old and afraid of lightning. She’s a demon and is a lot more chilled back than BF, she’s very fearless. She’s taller than BF by a good bit.

- Her favorite soda is Cherry Dr. Pepper and Cheerwine. Her favorite pizza topping is olive.

- GF likes to play video games, her favorite being Tetris.

- GF is extremely dumb just like BF and puts a lot of faith into BF to handle things. She does have emotions, she’s just very chill, aloof, or too dumb to realize. Or all of the above.

- The rest of GF's family aren't famous rapper/singers, just Dad and Mom.

- BF is the “top” but GF lets him be. (Phantom Arcade said this directly)

Daddy Dearest

- Because DD is retired, he gets his income from DMCAing people on Youtube for using his songs and music.

-  At some point DD pretends to “accept” BF, which really makes it harder for BF and does more crazy tricks on him. It’s a case of “keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.”

- GF’s dad may have known BF’s dad before.

Skid and Pump

- They get afraid sometimes but not at the right things, like monsters they aren’t afraid but are of natural things like heights. Somewhat similar to BF and GF.

- Skid and Pump were tricked by the Monster to get GF as a “treat” which is why they rap battle BF. When they fail the Monster comes out in the scrapped song for Week 2.

Pico

- He is 20 years old. Pico's School is canon to the Friday Night Funkin' universe. He's depicted having a tooth gap as a kid.

- Pico is a mercenary who was hired by Daddy Dearest to kill BF, he was only given a location and not a picture or name. Turns out BF is actually someone Pico used to know, implied by Phantom as not seeing BF for a long time, possibly years.

- Pico has schizophrenia, likely caused by trauma from Pico’s School, it’s likely the reason he always carries his gun with him as he’s very paranoid of people. He may have more than just schizophrenia.

- Him and BF are exes. He's been described by Tankman/Captain as "sexually ambiguous friend."

- Likes to drink McDonald's Sprite. And just like BF, he's likely to say "pog."

Mommy Mearest/Mommy Must Murder

- Unlike the Dad who is a ex-rockstar, MM is still working her job as a popstar.

- Likes to drink White Claw.

- The Henchmen that appear in the back are actually 5 days old, because they were grown/bottles in jars. They are clones.

Monster/Lemon Monster

- Hijacked Week 5 at the mall after the battle duet with the Dad and Mom, everyone at the mall scattering after Monster’s appearance.

- Tricked the Spooky Kids to get the GF as a “treat” so that it can eat GF and BF.

- The head of Monster is not actually a lemon, it’s just how it’s head is shaped.

- Is able to twist perception, presumably why after the hijack by Monster everything looked gorey and twisted. 

Senpai/Spirit

- Senpai is just an AI in the game while Spirit is a completely separate entity from Senpai, who is self aware and is related to the real world.

- Senpai is used to being loved and admired, so when he’s not loved and doesn’t get his way he becomes a jerk. Senpai is a pathetic sore loser, that’s why he got angry after he lost to BF.

- GF used to play the Hating Simulator game all the time when she was younger like 8 years old and liked Senpai, but after being sucked into the game with BF and seeing how Senpai acted she doesn’t like Senpai and dislikes him.

- Spirit was trapped inside the character Senpai, Senpai is not being controlled by the Spirit. Senpai still acts as himself.

- The Spirit was trapped inside the game by the Dad, meaning there’s history of the GF’s dad having past relationships with other people.

- Senpai was originally a teacher and designed as one, but was later changed.

Ritz

- Ritz and BF are canonically brothers, in the sense of a "Stuart Little" situation. So adopted in a way.

- Ritz skateboards to travel sometimes.

Tankman/Captain

- The war area that Tankman and his men are on is a military base that BF and GF trespassed on, unlike the apocalyptic setting in the original Tankmen series.

- The Captain doesn’t actually know Pico, BF, or GF which make the assumptions he says “don’t you have a school to shoot up” and “no prom for you this year” false. He just says them because he’s an jerk.

Miscellaneous

- Every "week" takes place on a Friday.

- Week 2 happens after Week 4. And Week 6 happens after Week 5 or Week 2. This may be changed in the future.

- The characters' birthdays are on November 1st since that's when the game came out, not specified if it's just 1 or multiple characters' birthdays.

- Everyone's favorite fast food is Arby's. (Ninjamuffin however says he's only saying this since he wants to be promoted by them on Twitter)

- Yes Boyfriend and Girlfriend are their canon names, not Keith.

- Week 5 happens because BF takes GF on a date to visit Santa for Christmas, but the parents show up to ruin everything. Mall Santa is dead if you “game over” in Week 5.

- Week 7 happens because GF’s parents sent BF and GF on a “vacation” which was to crash a plane to kill BF, knowing GF would be fine. They land/crash near military zone which GF’s parents didn’t know or intended. Pico shows up because he was sent to “fetch the corpse” of BF, he didn’t kill BF obviously and is now in deep shit from GF’s parents after messing up his job twice.

[broadstflyers]

A/N: Welp, inspiration struck me, felt as though it quite literally hit me over the top of my head at like 1am, so I proceeded to write this at...1am. It was fun, honestly. It was meant to be a shorter blurb, but I guess it grew into a longer one. I have been experimenting with different writing styles to see which one fits me the best, so I gave the main character a name this time, Alessandra. Also, I was a slight idiot and on my first tag list, I made it specific to the other series I am writing. If you like this piece and the other Mat piece I wrote and you want to be tagged when I post any writing at all, the tag list is here. The semi lowercase thing I've got going on is purposeful. As always, feedback is appreciated, and if you like it, give it a like, reblog, or pop into my asks. Thanks! :)

Warnings: Cursing, angst, mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: When an ex comes back in a moment of weakness, you have to make a tough decision.

you say nothing as you approach the black haired boy sitting at a table in your english class. you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, and you lock eyes. no words are spoken, only a mutual understanding. one that only you two could define. you suddenly inch closer to him, continuing to lean in until your head is resting on his chest. you rest your arm next to your head, and he wraps an arm around you.

home. warm. it was.

you could feel his heart beating out of his chest. your heart fluttered with joy. it was instant. it was marvelous. it was beautiful.

“I love you, Alessandra.”

you lurch forward out of your bed, heart beating so fast you are shaking. you pant heavily, tears stream your face, startled. your eyes dart around your room to ground yourself through watery eyes. you hold up your trembling hands, something that has refused to stop since he walked out of your front door for the last time two months ago.

“please don’t visit,” you choke out. you find the strength to turn around and grab your pillow. your chest pounds with pain, every movement is agonizing. you squeeze your soft pillow against your chest to try and alleviate the self-sustained blow. you pretended the pillow could somehow suck the heavy feelings out of you, the way he used to use his hands of healing magic, the way he used to place them with gentle care on your chest to somehow suck the anxiousness out of you onto himself.

you mindlessly rock back and forth, waiting for the waves of mind numbing pain to recede back into the endless deep abyss of despair.

“please don’t visit,” you repeat in a weak voice. not that he could hear your begging, anyways.

he didn’t hear your pleas to love you how you loved him- with every bone in your body. he held a knife in his calloused hands and carved his initials into your soul. every inch of your soul belonged to him, and you let it.

how can you break a bond that felt as though the angels themselves used their delicate touch to hand-tie the gold string you once believed held you two together?

maybe that explains why this feels like hell.

you flinch as you hear a sharp knock at the front door. you should probably get that, but you instead settle back into your hazy gaze out into your room.

a second knock rings throughout the apartment, faster, with a sense of urgency.

“please don’t visit,” you croak.

“Alessandra,” a voice croaks back. “open up.”

your blood freezes cold, eyes grow wide in panic. fire spreads through your veins. hot and cold sensations rip you apart limb from limb. your voice feels broken. no sounds come out when you open your mouth.

I guess I should move.

so you do. you stand up a little too quickly, and your vision goes black. you place your palms down on the bed and wait for your vision to return. you tip toe over to the door and place your palm on your chilling door. goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“it’s Mat,” his once soothing voice whispers through the door.

“Mat,” you quietly repeat back.

“yes, it’s me,” he says with a sigh of relief that you answered him.

his voice of familiarity is catching you in a stint of anxiety where you just want something- anything that’s familiar. you know this. when you used to gaze into his kind, brown eyes, you would see the boy you met in eighth grade, not the man that walked out that door just two months ago.

you went to move the locks, and you unlocked both of them, until you pulled back with hesitancy. “I can’t, Mat, I can’t,” you breathe out, “I can’t see you. please,” you plead, “hear me. I, I can’t. you didn’t hear me all those months I pleaded with you. hear me now.”

you can hear him place his head on the door with a soft thump.

“I still love you, Alessandra,” he mumbles.

and that was it. you just about exploded. the emotions you had kept at bay were unleashed. you began to sob and you sank to the ground until you could hug your knees. you still faced the door. you knew he shouldn’t walk in, but you almost wanted him to. you wanted him to put an end to this, but was it a good idea?

no, it wasn’t. and you knew that.

you began to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. “it’s unlocked,” you hear yourself say in the distance. you didn’t immediately regret those words like you thought you would. you had scooted yourself away from the door so you wouldn’t get hit.

he slowly opened the creaky door, and glances down to see you blankly staring at your knees. what else could you do? it was awkward enough.

he doesn’t say anything. the apartment is dead.

he carefully sits down across from you, far enough where he isn’t in your face, but close enough that you could extend your legs and they would touch him.

you both sit in silence for a moment, trying to adjust to being in each other’s presence again. his presence felt so natural, yet so nerving. you weren’t used to feeling so on edge around him. so hurt.

“time,” you sniff and break the unbearable silence. “I need time,” you reaffirm.

he nods slowly. “I understand,” he whispers. “I know I hurt you. I know I fucked up. I fucked up badly.”

you don’t move a muscle from staring at the seam on your sweatpants. you take a shaky breath. it’s now or never.

“Mat, do you know how painful it is to have to practically beg someone to not treat you like shit one day and then to decide the next day I’m the fucking greatest human being on this planet?” you start to find your voice again.

“I had to beg my boyfriend to treat me with respect. the person I gave my soul to. do you know how much that fucking killed me?” your voice was seething with anger as you remembered the end of your relationship. feelings of betrayal and hurt overtook you.

you push yourself off the floor. he follows you.

“you don’t love me,” you assert. “you ‘love’ me because of when you met me. I’m just familiar to you.”

he makes a taken aback face, his eyebrows furrow. “hey, I know what I feel okay? and yeah, I was a fucking asshole. I realize that now. I shouldn’t have acted out on you like I did. I shouldn’t have made you beg for basic human respect. I’m sorry.”

you look into his eyes again. those brown innocent eyes were once filled with sparkling joy. you see 13 year old you dancing around with his favorite flower in your hair. you see hundreds of dates, each one more special than the last.

you see innocent you. it’s just familiarity. you know it is. you’re too hurt, mind too foggy to really sort through your feelings to figure out if you love the mat standing in front of you.

“I’m going to need time, Mat. I am still feeling too much hurt to decide how I feel.”

he swallows hard, but eventually nods. “okay.”

with a heavy heart, you walk him to the door. before he can walk out, he stops, turns around, and looks down at you one last time. you gaze up into those endless eyes of his, heart shattering because you know you have to send him on his way. it’s for your own good.

he opens his mouth to speak and you gently shake your head. he closes his mouth, and you offer him a nod as in, it’s time to go. you can see his body exhale. he steps through the door frame, this time you sending him through there yourself. you don’t wait to see if he will turn around. you don’t want to see if he turns around. you want to close that door knowing you are the one who sent him away, and that was all you wanted to remember in the future. and so you do.

you lock the locks with every ounce of you left, pressing your fingers down to make sure the door was actually locked. you just wanted to keep everything out. every weird feeling, any remote desire to go back to him.

you paused to touch the door one last time, letting a single tear flow down your cheek before turning to crawl back into bed and sulk for the rest of the day.

you knew deep down that was the last time you would ever see the face of your teenage love.

he won’t be visiting anymore.

------------

again, here's the link to the tag list, and my asks are open if you want to talk about this piece! I hope you...well...enjoyed it, I guess? lmao

[setsureadsshit]

Lost At Sea: A List of WIP’s I am finally letting go of [ Part 5 ]

[ Part 1 ] [ Post 2 ] [ Post 3 ] [ Post 4 ]

*see posts 1-4*

I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for.....probably half a year now, it was a project I took up at the start of the Covid and then I, like the rest of the world, sort of lost interest in everything for a little while. And then I threw myself into projects I could do around the house and hanging out with my housemates and slowly mourning our lost year. So, here’s THE LIST. And uh. Yeah.

The Soldier In The House Of Birds by Bonnie131313

Summary: A young acolyte finds himself paired with a young soldier

Last Update: 2018

Fandom & Main Pairing: Person Of Interest ; Rinch

Personal Notes: I really wanted to like this fic, I really wanted to but just...something about the style of the writing just doesn’t grab me. But like, I KNOW it’s really good, I can tell it’s well thought out even if it’s not finished but I just can’t...get into it and I’m letting it go.

Sucker For The Classics by nisolex

Summary: Scott was such a bad friend. Stiles only agreed to go on this stupid "pack bonding" trip so he and Scott could spend some time togehter. And what does Scott do? He invites Allison: and he gives her Stiles' seat in the car. Now Stiles is stuck in the Camaro for a 6 hour car ride with Derek Hale. This is gonna be a long week.

**With the show coming to an end, I wanted to write a Sterek fic to take us back to the beginning. This is an ode to the classic Teen Wolf fanfics. It will feature tropes as old as time, and is set sometime around season 3. If nothing else, get ready for some nostalgia, angst, and eventual sexy times.

Last Update: 2018

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Sterek

Personal Notes: Ah man, this fic is so good and tbh it leaves off at a moderately satisfying spot so still worth a read.

Where the lost get found by Ninjanervana

Summary:  The Nogitsune took a lot of things from Stiles: Allison, his peace of mind, his consent, his sanity, even his Spark. Maybe it’s time for Stiles to start taking things back.

Last Update: 2019

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Sterek

Personal Notes: I’d hold onto this - if all 7 chapters hadn’t all been posted at the same time and there hasn’t been so much as a peep since. Which is sad because it’s REALLY good but I have a harder time holding onto things that don’t have an update track record I can fall back on you know?

Can’t Hide From The Moonlight by Flarrow

Summary: The semi-unintended sequel to Might As Well Be the Sun, by reader request. One take, a potential telling of part of their married life together.

Last Update: 2016

Fandom & Main Pairing: The Flash ; Flarrow

Personal Notes: I just recently reblogged the first part of this series because I didn’t realize I hadn’t until I checked this, lol. The first one is really good, you should read it! A bummer this second part has kind fallen to the wayside but you know how it goes.

carpe diem by imadoki

Summary: The trials and tribulations that one Tsukishima Kei faces in the events leading up to spring graduation.(aka they're all third years and Tsukishima just wants to give Hinata his second gakuran button but there's a whole bunch of feelings in the way)

Last Update: 2015

Fandom & Main Pairing: Haikyuu!! ; Tsukihina

Personal Notes: I really love this idiot pairing. There...aren’t really any Hinata pairings I don’t like, he’s just so shippable, lmao. It’s a bummer that this one didn’t really get off the ground, it’s always so interesting seeing this pairing from Tsuki’s side of things.

Condo In The Woods by Strangeredlantern

Summary:  Scott gets here in four weeks, hopefully bringing some supernatural answers with him. That leaves Stiles four weeks to figure out Isaac. Why he’s here in Bear Valley, why he’s a werewolf, and why his eyes changed from blue to gold and back again not fifteen hours ago over Camden Lahey’s dog tags.

Last Update: 2014

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Stisaac

Personal Notes: I HAVE HELD ONTO THIS FIC. FOR SO FUCKING LONG. IF YOU CAN’T TELL. I REALLY FUCKING LOVE IT, I HAVE HOPED AND HOPED AND HOPED FOR SO LONG AND I AM SO GUTTED TO FINALLY BE GIVING UP ON IT. I LOVED IT. I STILL LOVE IT. STRANGEREDLANTERN, IF YOU’RE OUT THERE, IF YOU SEE THIS, KNOW THAT THERE IS ONE PERSON ON THIS EARTH WHO LOVED YOUR STORY. WHO STILL LOVES YOUR STORY. WHO HOPES YOU’RE HAVING A GOOD LIFE AND STILL WRITING SOMEWHERE.

Dead To Rights by askanasshole

Summary: Stiles is picky when he chooses his jobs. Can't hurt anyone, can't end the world, can't end with him a different species or trapped in an alternate dimension. Can't be face to face. Simple. Easy. Necessary. 

Of course his entire life goes to shit when he's forced into a face to face with a werewolf pack stupid enough to get their Second's heart stolen by a witch. Now if their Alpha would stop being so stupidly hot and he could get this job over with, that'd be great.

Last Update: 2015

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Sterek

Personal Notes: I really enjoyed this, it was such a wildly different take on things, I was really interested to see where it was gonna go. Sad to be finally throwing in the towel on it.

Destiny Knows Best by TaliskerMortem

Summary: It was supposed to be just an ordinary one-night stand. A quick tumble in the sheets and then good-bye. Derek’s wolf however, had other plans.

OR: The one in which Derek and Stiles do the do and a certain part of Derek’s wolfish anatomy decides they should be bonded for life.

Last Update: 2018

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Sterek

Personal Notes: Again, the start was pretty promising and it kinda leaves off in a satisfactory way even unfinished but I’m not interested in it enough to keep holding on it.

Dirty Dealing by lookslikenico, winglesswarrior

Summary:  Stiles had a plan for his final summer before college. He was going to intern at the Sheriff's station, get ahead on the plans for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, his dad had some hazy idea of him having 'one last summer' as a lazy teenager. Now, he's stuck cooling his heels and feeling very out of place at some stuck up country club, where he feel he has more in common with the staff than the other members. Of course, that could be because the staff include his new 'how have we never met before' best friend Scott and the 'it should be physically impossible for someone to be that perfect' new crush, Derek. Who apparently hates him - but not enough that he won't swallow his pride and put up with Stiles' presence when he's needed to help get Erica out of trouble...

Last Update: 2016

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Sterek

Personal Notes: I honestly don’t remember anything about this fic. So. Enter at your own risk.

[basilrazzledazzle]

sugawara koushi x reader

reader is gender neutral

i'm in a funk and writing for suga is really easy so i thought i’d throw this out there to you guys. i hope you enjoy it! seeing you guys like and reblog these lil drabbles i have is the only thing giving me seratonin at this point lmao

word count: 2.1K

tw: alcohol and being drunk, plus my shitty writing lmao

let me know if you want a part two to this!! i kinda left it open so that i could write one, but i'm only gonna do that if you guys really want it. if you do, let me know, and i'll tag you in it.

final notes: this is unedited because it's currently 2:07am and i am emotionally drained. tbh wrote this because suga is my comfort character and i needed that.

__

You hadn’t seen the boys in years.

Well, you said boys, but that wasn’t the case anymore. The youngest of the Karasuno team had graduated two years ago, and you had been out of school for five.

It was Daichi’s idea to get together. He was, as usual, the one holding everyone together. You had still been in touch with him; calling and texting a few times each month, the same with the others in your year. You pretty well only talked to the others over social media, liking their posts and having short greetings in the comments (excluding when you attended the graduations of the first and second years, of course).

The only one you had seen since high school was Kiyoko. She made sure to reach out and meet up at least every few months. Which made sense, as you had co-managed the whirlwind that had once been called the Karasuno volleyball club.

You were all cramped into Daichi’s apartment, and while it certainly small, having to fit a dozen former volleyball players and three former managers.

Alcohol had been brought out and served, and while you would refuse to admit it, you were a bit of a lightweight. You were already a bit tipsy, though most of the others were as well.

You were sitting on a worn love seat, watching the chaos with an amused face. A few of the boys were sitting in a loose semi-circle, playing hot potato with a volleyball. Honestly, you had no clue where it came from, but some things never change.

You looked up as a shadow fell over you. It was Sugawara, holding a plate of taiyaki cakes. He had a trademark grin of his on his face -- you hadn’t realized how much you had missed that look of his.

“Anyone sitting here?” he asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to you.

You shook your head, and he sat down next to you. “Want one?” he asked, offering the fish-shaped cake to you. You happily obliged, taking one and nibbling at the tail. It was good -- light and fluffy as it nearly melted in your mouth. You turned to him. “Did you make these?”

He laughed, looking sheepish. “Yeah, but you were the one who taught me. Remember?”

You did. You and the other former third years had been at Asahi’s house, and decided to have a bake-off. You had teamed up with Suga. “I can’t believe you still know the recipe.”

The grey haired boy - no, man, you reminded yourself - shrugged. "I mean, I've tweaked it a little, but it's mostly the one you used." As you looked at him, his eyes darted past you, and his arm whipped out within the blink of an eye.

The previously mentioned game of hot potato seemed to have gone awry -- Suga had just barely stopped the ball from hitting you in the face. You looked over at them; Noya seemed to be the most embarrassed of them all, and as your gaze set on him, he became even more red.

"My bad," he murmured sheepishly. A few other the others were stifling their laughter as the former libero shifted awkwardly. You took the ball from Sugawara, and threw it at Nishinoya, a grin on your face.

Realizing you weren't mad, Noya grinned as well, catching the ball with ease and resuming their game. You turned back to Suga.

"Nice save. Thanks," you said. He smiled at you, but seemed to be somewhere else. You scooted closer -- a feat you never would've been able to accomplish with the huge crush you had on him in high school (which, you would admit, never quite left) -- and nudged his ribs with your elbow. "What's wrong?" you asked quietly.

His focus seemed to return. "I just missed this." He paused. "And you."

You felt your face turn red, and we're thankful that it was mostly dim. "I missed you too, Suga."

And with that, you took a leap of faith, doing something you never would've had the guts to do five years ago. It could've been the liquid courage running through your veins, or possibly the fact that you hadn't seen each other in so long, or maybe even a combination of both.

You scooted even closer, leaning into him, to the point where if you were even closer you would've been in his lap. The former setter tensed underneath you, completely rigid for a moment. Right before you were about to move back, he wrapped an arm behind you, your neck leaning against his bicep.

You smiled to yourself. Part of you wished that you had acted on the feelings you had had for him in high school -- you could've had a life with him for the past five years.

Sitting like this, close to him and watching your friends goofing off like the old days, made you realize how much you missed Karasuno. You leaned your head into the crook of Suga's neck, murmuring, "This is nice, isn't it?"

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against you. "What, me or this?"

You turned looking up at him, your eyes shining. "Both."

___

A few hours later, you were dead on your feet. Hate it all you want, you were a sleepy drunk. You had said your good-byes, promising to keep in touch, as you left Daichi's apartment.

As you walked outside, the cool night air prickling your skin, a voice called behind you. "Y/N! Wait up!"

You turned, rubbing your eyes. Unsurprisingly, it was Suga, jogging down the sidewalk to catch up to you. "Are you seriously about to walk home like this?" His raised a brow, a hand on his hip. His whole posture radiated disapproval.

"I was gonna get an Uber, thank you very much," you argued. Suga shook his head.

"Nuh uh. Not in the state you're in. Come on, I'll give you a ride home."

You could tell by his expression that there was no use protesting. Some things never changed, and Suga's over-protectiveness seemed to be one of them.

You stumbled behind him as he led you to his car. He opened the passenger door for you, and helped you slide inside before he went around and started the car. A gentleman, as always.

While you remembered him drinking earlier in the night, he must've had the ability to hold his liquor much better than you. He drove in mostly silence, the radio playing softly in the background as you tiredly instructed him where to turn. Within twenty minutes you had arrived at your apartment building.

Within an instant Suga was there to help you out of the car. You giggled, saying, "I'm notthat wasted, Koushi," but your slurred words said otherwise. He laughed, shaking his head at you.

"Sure, you're just tripping over your own feet for fun, then?" he asked rhetorically, guiding you up the stairs with his arm linked through yours. You nudged him playfully with your elbow.

As you arrived at your door, he helped with the key that was fumbling in your fingers, and opened the door for you. His arm slipped out of the link of yours.

He sighed, taking a step back. "Well, I'll see you around, then." As he turned, you grabbed his wrist, looking up at him.

"Wait, Suga-" Your face was warm, whether it was from the buzzing in your system or because you were flustered, you didn't know. "Will you- will you stay?"

A look of alarm was across his face in an instant. "Stay? As in stay the night? Here?"

You looked away from him. "I mean, you don't have to..."

He shifted awkwardly. "Do you really want me to?"

You looked back up at him, nodding. He sighed, then followed you inside.

He trailed you awkwardly until you reached your bedroom, in which he stopped at the door. You looked at him, pouting, but before you could say anything, he said, "I'll wait right here, I promise. I'm not leaving. Just get dressed."

You would never be able to get over how respectful he was. Honestly, it got to the point where it wasn't fair.

He shut the door, leaving you inside to get ready. You stumbled about as you found a pair of bed shorts to wear with a t-shirt. You rummaged through your closet until you found a t-shirt that would fit him. After changing, you opened the door to find him waiting in the hallway, just like he promised.

You held the shirt out to him, and he stared at it. "It's for you, dummy," you explained. "Unless you want to wear a button up to bed, but that's not gonna be very comfy."

You left the shirt in his hands, turning back around and stumbling into bed. "You can put it on -- I won't look," you said, in a somewhat teasing tone.

You could hear fabric rustling as you sat in bed with your back to him, the only illumination coming from your lamp, which cast dim, warm light close to you.

"You don't have to sleep in dress slacks," you told him. He made some sort of noise that sounded like a cough, but with surprise.

"Are you sure you don't want me to just sleep on the couch..?" he asked weakly. Your turned back to him, finding him in your t-shirt and the slacks he had worn to the reunion.

"Please stay, Koushi," you said, eyes wide.

The stiffness in his shoulders seemed to metl away, even if it was just a little bit, and he laughed quietly. "I never guessed you to be a clingy drunk," he said, making his way to the bed. Before slipping under the cover, he quietly slipped of the dress pants he was wearing. You looked away, fulfilling the promise you had made a moment ago.

He clicked off the lamp, sliding next to you. After a few moments silcence in the dark, he said, "You know, high school me would've killed for this."

You halfway sat up, facing him. "What?"

You could practically feel the embarrassment radiating from his confession. "Yeah, I.." He laughed. "I used to have the biggest crush on you."

You felt almost light-headed. "You're kidding."

In the dim streetlight the leaked in through the window, you could barely make out him rubbing his face in his hands. "No."

This time, it was your turn to laugh. In response, Suga chuckled self-consciously. He lightly smacked your arm with the back of his hand. "Don't laugh at me, it's true!" he said defensively.

"No, no," you said, still giggling, and even though you could barely make his his features, you turned on your side and face him. "I'm laughing because I had a huge crush on you. Especially in third year."

He groaned, laying flat on his back with his head in his hands. "You're not serious," he said, voice muffled. "Oh my god."

"We were fools," you told him wistfully.

He agreed, "We were."

The two of you laid there in silence for a few minutes, not necessarily an uncomfortable silence, but one with words that yearned to be spoken.

"You know," you said eventually. "There's no reason we can't try it now. Y'know, us." He faced you. "And before you argue -- I amdrunk, but I know that I'm saying."

You could practically see his signature smile at how you had predicted his only argument, and he said, "You know me too well, even after all these years."

You exhaled sharply, one of those almost-laughs. "Well? What do you think?"

He sighed, resting a hand behind your ear and brushing the hair out of your face. "I think," he said slowly. "You should get some sleep." Before you had the chance to pout, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "We'll talk in the morning -- see what you think when you're all sobered up. M'kay?"

You smiled. Of course that was his answer -- always one to consider others before his own wants. "M'kay," you said, comfortably nuzzling your head against his chest. You could hear the steady rhythm of his heart beating as you sighed. "Thank you, Suga. For everything."

___

please tell me to write a part two lmao i love him sm

[gothamstreetcat]

okay, now im curious, you can go off here, i dont mind! (if you want to, of course)

VLAD! oh my gosh, okay.

*tw if you totally like barbara. please don’t read this. contains mild mentions of child abuse*

i’m not sure i know the best way to begin this semi-long rant. first off, i never really liked barbara (which is kind of a rant for another time) and this falls into one of the reasons why: 

(this is taking me so long to even start this because i’m not sure exactly what i’m trying to say, I’m so sorry...)

in many ways barbara clearly makes selina uncomfortable during this scene. in addition she comes off as rude, out of line, and little inappropriate and even manipulative if i’m being totally honest. to me, selina clearly seems off-put by barbara’s drinking habits (in what seems to be the start off the day) while she’s expressing wanting to leave. and while i don’t completely think the two things are connected, it is interesting to have them both in the same scene as such. this being linked to barbara (in-current) going through a hard time and dabbling a little back into past addictions--something i do not think selina is unfamiliar with (i’d get into it but it involves a lot of talk on my own brain/thoughts and feeling but doesn't necessarily go with the show).

the second issue i have here is the way barbara spoke to selina. i’m sure barbara said what she said with a decent heart but i almost feel like she has no business telling selina “she’s growing into quite the young women.” she shouldn’t really be saying that to someone she just met and yes, perhaps i am going off the rails just slightly but the things she proceeded to say following that makes me feel uncomfortable. think (if you would) if it were a grown man to tell selina that? or clyde? because he really came off to me like a child predator or someone that had pictures of young kids stashed away in a drawer somewhere--but hi, i’m getting off topic.

when she told selina “removed the dirt, that old hood, those ratty clothes... i bet we find a princess underneath..” it truly burns me to my core because on one hand, you’re telling selina she’s a pretty face but then picking apart everything she is. almost as if barbara could only see the same street girl that other people saw and maybe see some bit of potential in her yet it felt like barbara only saw the potential of a pretty face. telling her, her appearance could be a weapon that ‘no man could refuse” that is something pimps say. 

perhaps, it would be something different if it was barabra speaking to her own child however, selina is not her child. selina is someone she just met. selina is a homeless girl who spent many years learning to survive on the streets. and selina is a pretty girl who has probably be told so by many kinds of people... so please forgive me when i say barbara’s world make me uncomfortable. because i start to remember this scene and i remember a grown woman who was down on her luck and trying to manipulate these young kids into something she wishes she could be. trying to make them what she missed out on, or maybe she lacked, perhaps trying to teach them a “skill” but going about it the entire wrong way--because at the end of it all barabra was the adult in the situation and selina and ivy were just young kids. and there were so many cases in this show where the adults failed the children, and yes, selina is not perfect yet she was a child who was lost and confused and forced to grow up too quick and the adults who knew better used that as a way to benefit them. 

(now, lucky for me selina told barbara to take her sequence dress and shove it)

in addition to this, barbara twice reached out and touched selina without permission. first, she reached out to touch selina’s hair which is a little creepy but you could also see how uncomfortable selina was by it (**which is why your grey-ish gifs of this moment hit me hard). and this may just be me but when i see that bit i can’t help but feel there is a deeper meaning behind it. secondly, she removes her hood in front of the mirror and is telling her all this stuff (and to keep it on the light side i want to crack a joke here, if that’s cool with you and say that looks can’t actually kill, but a knife or gun definitely can--but okay barbara)

i mean, not to be a bitch but ivy could have been a nice girl sailing with other nice girls but she really had to take advice from this one...

now, i’m not trying to be biased but i do want to point out the difference’s between how bruce see’s selina vs how barbara see’s selina. i’ve already talked how barbara clearly see’s selina but let’s remember bruce’s reaction when seeing selina for the first time.

first, he was clearly taken by her (love a first sight, if you will). he even looked at her from her head to her toes and you could tell he thought she was the most beautiful girl he ever saw--dirt and all. he then proceeded to put out his hand for her to take if she wanted to. something no one had probably done before that day, and not only that but bruce was interested in knowing who she was following that initial encounter (i made a little post about it here i wasn’t sure if i should share because the gifs are ugly but i love seeing bruce play with his fingers when he’s nervous)(he was so dead-ass excited when he was asking her questions about herself like living on the street because it was for science and not because he was totally in love with her or anything, he swears). i also want to point out the many times selina asked for his consent before she kissed him--something i was not initially in favor of however, i think it is so important that it be said for both bruce and selina; as i believe that knowledge in selina potentially comes from someplace and i think it is just as important for males to give content as much as females. 

lastly, bruce could always see selina’s protential and he always made that clear. he saw her potential to be a good person and a better version of herself and it’s one of the things i love about him because he believes so deeply in this other human being when no one else would, or they just saw her as a pretty face. bruce didn’t point out her ratty clothes, he merely pointed out how she didn’t come with much and if she wanted he’d be happy to help her get more. he mentioned it was ‘strange’ her comment about his academics which (again, i could be going off the rails) tells me he sees her potential and finds it odd that she wouldn’t want to develop it--if that makes sense?

*full disclaimer that it is not my intentions to take away from anyones gifs by saying all these things. i think you all are amazing and i love your gifs and i will totally reblog them. his is just how i feel and sometimes it’s hard because i think i shouldn’t speak the way i feel and i have to hold my hand over my mouth to keep myself from screaming. i feel like i’m holding onto this dark secret that i just cant tell anyone but this is honestly something that has been weighing on me for a very long time. i don’t feel as though i’m wrong in the things i said and i believe there is more to unpack. 

regardless, thank you for letting me share. 

p.s i think i got lost in talking about bruce. the wheels are still running but the train is down. i am so sorry. love you

[ineffable-snowman]

Day 22: Warmth

This is the last fic I’m going to post for @drawlights advent calendar prompt list. This challenge has been so much fun and it has made me write again. Although not every ficlet I wrote was great, I’ve written about 22k words in one month, which is more than I wrote in the other eleven months of 2019. And I was so happy for every like or reblog, so thank you very much for that!

This fic is a continuation of my very short entry for day 21 (”gift”) - you can read that part here.

***

One year, Aziraphale doesn’t simply let him go to do his alleged evil deeds.

“I’m coming with you,” he declares.

“What? Why?” Crowley wants – no, he doesn’t want, he needs to get away from Aziraphale’s kindness and the warmth of the bookshop. Right now.

“No one should be alone on Christmas.”

And that’s once again the sort of thing that Crowley can’t bear to hear. The words are a delusion. They can’t apply to him. “Cut the bullshit,” he snarls, shoves Aziraphale out of his way and heads for the door. “I’m a demon, I don’t care about Christmas and God’s love for all creatures, so that he sent his only son to be nailed to a cross and, whoop, all the sins are forgiven, what a huge amount of craptastic bullshit, I don’t need that -” He has already said too much and before he says even more, he kicks open the door – or tries to, anyway, because it opens in the other direction but he can’t be bothered now – he kicks again in frustration and then flings the doors open with an uncontrolled demonic miracle. The rational part of his brain registers that the old wooden doors creak dangerously and that makes him stop in his tracks. He is pretty sure that the one thing Aziraphale will not forgive is demolishing his bookshop. (And there’s that word again.) He takes an unnecessary breath to calm down, the harsh wind that blows into his face helps considerably, and turns around.

Aziraphale is standing in the open doors (which are quite unhinged), a frown on his face and the box with the chocolate truffles and the angel shaped candles which Crowley has given him as a Christmas present still in his hands. Crowley really has fucked up.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “I’ll just…” He snaps and grimaces at the doors to right themselves. “Hope I didn’t destroy any holy wards.”

“As you well know, they cannot be destroyed by physical violence. Now, about that assignment of yours.”

“What about it?” Crowley has already forgotten the details of what horrible deed he had made up.

“I could help you.”

That’s not going to make things easier. Involving Aziraphale in a made up and completely unnecessary evil deed was not his plan and is, shockingly enough, nothing he really wants. “It’s nasty business. Wouldn’t want to tempt you to do evil on Christmas of all days.”

“Oh, come on, I’ve covered for you before. And we’ve found ways to work around the really nasty things several times. ”

Crowley shrugs and tries to come up with another argument to stop Aziraphale.

“You weren’t planning on really causing such a horrible car accident, were you?” Aziraphale asks slightly worried.

Ah, yes, car accident, that was his fake plan. One kid dead, the other permanently crippled, parents without a suitable insurance to pay for all the costs for the injured kid, embittered and in debt – by the way, the father had been the manager of a company, he now sacks all his employees, who in turn take it out on their families … Yes, very evil plan indeed to spread evil. And which now has Aziraphale worried. Great.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, I’ll find a way around the killing the kid part. So, no worries, you can stay inside, drink your mulled wine, stay warm, read a book, whatever.”

“But drinking mulled wine alone is awfully boring.”

Oh.

No one should be alone on Christmas, is what Aziraphale said earlier. Maybe he wasn’t just talking about Crowley.

Crowley heaves a deep, theatrical sigh. “Alright, alright. If you insist to do evil tonight – be my guest.”

“Wonderful.” Aziraphale actually claps his hands in satisfaction. “Let me just get a scarf and a hat and then I’m ready to go.”

He takes a bit longer and finally emerges covered in warm clothes and with a blessed picnic basket.

“What’s that? We’re going to do crimes, not a picnic.”

“I brought us a nice thermos of mulled wine. I mean, I could hardly let it go to waste, could I? And then I thought why not bring the mince pies, too? I bought them yesterday at…”

Crowley puts his hands in his pockets, leads the way and only half listens to the angel chatter happily about mince pies and his Christmas shopping.

Crowley needs to improvise now. And he preferably needs a rich family with two kids in a car. Where are people today? At home or… at church. Well, shit. Crowley leads them to St. Paul’s Cathedral. They sit down on a bench, Aziraphale opens the basket, retrieves a goddamn tartan thermos, and carefully pours mulled wine into the cap.

“Hell doesn’t usually send such specific instructions,” he says when he hands Crowley the cap. “So what is the goal of that assignment? What do they want to see achieved?”

“That manager firing all his employees.”

“Good. Then there really is no need for the car crash, wouldn’t you say? We just need to find another way for him to fire his employees.”

“Mhm. How about a kidnapping and blackmail?”

“Do we really have to involve the kids in this?”

“A robbery then.”

“In front of all these people who will leave the church together? I don’t think so.”

“We steal one of the cars here, chase him through London and then rob him.” That sounds exciting and something Crowley can see himself doing.

“Sorry, dear, I do not intend to discorporate today. Also, think of the poor family who has their car stolen on Christmas. Oh, they will be so devastated.”

Crowley snorts. “Aziraphale, you can’t do evil without inconveniencing anyone. That’s just part of the deal.”

“We’ll see about that. Now, leave some of that mulled wine to me, will you?”

Crowley rolls his eyes but hands Aziraphale the thermos cap.

Aziraphale sips it and hums thoughtfully once in a while. “What if we simply leave that poor man in peace and do the dismissals ourselves?”

Crowley considers this for a while. Forged notices, a fake TV statement, a few messages on twitter… “Oh, that’s clever.”

Aziraphale huffs. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“It’s brilliant, actually. Think of all the chaos when the manager finds out about that! He hasn’t fired anyone personally but suddenly reads about it in the newspapers!” Crowley cackles gleefully. At that moment the church bells start ringing. He covers his ears because he really hates that noise. People pour out of the church, most of them unusually friendly. Aziraphale of course can’t help himself and throws blessings all around, smiles at people and wishes them a merry Christmas.

Crowley uses the time to drink another cap of mulled wine. When the commotion is over, they get to work. They start it off by sending the BBC an anonymous message which states that there is a rumour that a huge London company is supposedly bankrupt. Then they record a fake telephone call, which is meant to back up the supposed rumour. It takes them almost two hours because Aziraphale is complete rubbish at it. He cracks up every time Crowley uses his exaggerated supervillain voice, forgets his own lines or messes them up or uses some of his ridiculous old-fashioned words which are so out of place in a fake conversation between two sleazy London businessmen that Crowley cracks up in turn. When they finally succeed Aziraphale has forgotten to activate the record button on Crowley’s mobile. (He was so impressed with that feature that Crowley had shown him how to do it. What else are you to do when an angel is interested in modern technology for the first time in 6000 years?) Now Aziraphale is moaning and apologising nonstop and Crowley can’t stop giggling. He exploits Aziraphale’s regret to tempt him to take a selfie together, something Aziraphale has always been very wary of because he knows Crowley has invented them.

Crowley doesn’t really mind doing the recording again. In fact, he’s all too happy to do it. He hasn’t had so much fun in… decades, possibly centuries. Maybe ever.

After they have recorded a semi decent version and sent if off to the BBC again, they decide to do some more: a short radio feature about the collective dismissal of all of Robert McBrain’s employees. (Crowley has so far made up the name of the manager and the company.) Aziraphale is much better when he just has to read a report in a serious voice and so they finish that one shortly before midnight. Then Crowley convinces all the London radio studios to broadcast a feature about a company and a manager no one has ever heard of. Meanwhile, Aziraphale convinces all the London newspapers to print a report in their next issue that he has just written.

When they meet again at Trafalgar Square, it has started to snow a little. Small snowflakes dance around them in the icy wind but the mulled wine miraculously does not run out and keeps them warm.

“I do wonder about those poor people who will hear in the radio or read in the newspapers that they have lost their jobs,” Aziraphale says remorsefully.

“No need to worry, angel. McBrain will soon make a statement that all of it’s been just this huge false report and no one’s really sacked.”

Aziraphale nervously nibbles on a mince pie. “Still. They must be so shocked to hear about it. And on Christmas! It will ruin their whole day…”

Crowley sighs because he already knows what is coming next.

“Couldn’t we do something to ease their shock a bit? I mean…” Aziraphale gives him a sad, imploring, hopeful look. “I have already done something which is a bit bad. Now you could maybe do something a little bit not bad in exchange?”

Crowley pulls a face. He knows he’s being played but he can’t not do it. As much as Aziraphale doesn’t want to spoil Christmas for fictitious people who haven’t even really lost their job, Crowley doesn’t want to spoil Aziraphale’s Christmas. “Alright, whatever. You have anything in mind?”

Aziraphale smiles gratefully. “I thought about writing them an encouraging letter. Maybe add a few sweets. Bless their homes.”

“You want to go to all of them?” What is a reasonably low number of employees? “All fifteen humans?”

“Fifteen? Earlier you said something about five hundred.”

“I definitely said fifteen.”

“Hm, all the better then, right? Come on, Crowley, you don’t even have to write the letters or deliver them. Just drive me there?”

Of course he agrees. While he pretends to use his mobile to hack the account of the fictitious company to find out who the employees are and where they live, Aziraphale retrieves notepaper and a fountain pen from the picnic basket and starts to write:

Whatever you hear, do not be worried. Everything will turn out fine in the end!

Have a merry Christmas and may God bless you and your family every day of the year.

“Do you think this will do?” he asks Crowley.

“If I got an anonymous note like this, I’d probably freak out. – But then, I’m a demon,” he quickly adds when he sees Aziraphale’s worried expression. “Blessings sound like a threat to me. Humans might like it, though.”

Aziraphale nods and makes to write fourteen more of the ominous notes. Meanwhile, Crowley creates a new secret folder on his mobile (password: fuckoff) and places all their failed recordings and the selfie into it.

It is an odd way to spend Christmas Night: driving through London and watching Aziraphale pull miraculous amounts of sweets from his picnic basket and bestow blessings to people who will have no idea what is going on when they receive their letters. As the company doesn’t exist and therefore no one will be worried to have lost their job when they hear the news, Crowley just aimlessly drives through London and makes his way up on the go. He stops at places that look like they could use some angelic blessings and confidently tells Aziraphale that this is definitely one of McBrain’s employees. The wind blows small snowflakes against the front screen and the Bentley plays “Thank God it’s Christmas” on a loop. During its twelfth rendition Aziraphale starts to softly hum along. The streets are unusually empty but Crowley still doesn’t go faster than his usual 90mph because, as ridiculous as it is, he likes it and he doesn’t want the night to end.

But eventually they have delivered the last letter.

“There’s still some mulled wine left,” Aziraphale says. “What do you say, we stop at St. James’s and drink it there?”

Crowley hums his agreement and drives them there. They are, obviously, the only ones in the park because no one else would go there at five am in the winter (and because its doors are closed to humans during the night). Aziraphale gets distracted by a squirrel that was frightened by Crowley’s presence. Crowley leaves him to it and finds a bench underneath a large tree where they will be mostly sheltered from the snow. He opens the basket which by now is almost empty. Aziraphale must have given out all the sweets with the exception of the box of chocolate truffles that Crowley had given him. There are also the angel shaped candles. Crowley ignites them, places them in the snow in front of the bench, and pours mulled wine into the thermos cap, which steams in the cold air. It looks almost cosy.

He sees Aziraphale a few feet away, kneeling on the ground, his eyes closed, his hands folded neatly – praying. Crowley hopes with all of his strange human heart that Aziraphale isn’t worried and doesn’t ask for forgiveness for what he has done. Because he has had fun, has enjoyed himself and has laughed, and Crowley doesn’t want him to ask for forgiveness for his laughter.

Finally he joins Crowley on the bench. He primly folds his hands in his lap and looks at the angel candles in front of them.

“Sooo.” Crowley pushes the cap with mulled wine into his hands. “Pretty successful night for you, eh?”

“Hm?”

“Well, you thwarted my evil plan, distributed dozens of blessings throughout London… Guess they’ll be happy with you up there.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

Crowley shrugs and points at the box of chocolate. “Some chocolate as a reward?”

“Well, we certainly did work hard, didn’t we?” Aziraphale opens the box but then pauses. “You won’t get in trouble for this, will you? I mean, you didn’t exactly stick to the plan…”

Again he looks so genuinely worried and Crowley hates it. He wishes he could tell Aziraphale that there never has been any assignment, wishes they could agree on how much fun their little chaotic coup has been nonetheless, wishes he did not have to hide Aziraphale’s laughter in a password protected folder on his mobile. And that’s all these pesky Christmas feelings again. Wishing, longing, hoping – too much.

“It’ll be fine,” Crowley says to reassure Aziraphale. “You know that Hell doesn’t really understand earthly business. From their perspective, the job is as good as done. Come on, let’s devour these chocolates.”

Aziraphale of course does not so much devour as savour every bit of them. They pass the thermos cap between them and watch the candle light dance across the snowy ground. Crowley should be cold but it feels like the little candles, which defy the wind and refuse to burn down, the mulled wine passed between them and Aziraphale’s presence create a safe bubble of warmth around him.

[bellismaperry]

Idiot { Loki Fanfiction }

This my first Fanfic that I post here on tumblr. I literally just wrote this so theres a lot of grammer mistakes. I’ll promise I’ll get better haha. Hope you like it. It has a main Character but if you want like y/n you can do it. its how ever you want to read it! as long the message of the story is there I don’t care!. Please if you do like tell me to continue!! cause I will. I don’t know when I’ll post because I work and study. but I promise I will post. If want to be tagged pls dm. and will be tagged until its closed!. Hope you guys like this story I have had this idea for so long! hope you really like it like it like I do and lets see what the future holds! I present to you Idiot ( ps the cover is on its way ;) )

Warnings: None

Tara Jones

Loki Odinson

——————————————————————-🦋

Everybody was wearing black attire, with sad expressions. Losing a member of a team is one the hardest things ever. Its like losing a family member. After pushing away Tony’s reacter in the lake, I sat at the wooden porch with my legs in the lake.

God I am such an idiot . How could be so dumb?. I look around the people around me. There were new faces along with old ones. Tony had a lot of people who cared for him.

Strange looks at me looking around and walks over where I am sitting. “ I know its a funural and being happy is not an option, but why in particular you look like you killed some one”

I look up to him and shake my head. “ I messed up Stephen, big time and now its ony hitting me” I say as I move my feet around the water.

he takes a breath “ we all do that all the time Tara”

I shake my head and take my feet off the water and put them on the wooden porch. “ no but i seriously messed up. Theres a solution but it only make it hundred times more worst then it already is. And the worst part is I’m completely alone with it and just still a kid”

Strange Lowers down to my level as tears starts to fall off my face. “ You’re not alone, you have me and the rest of all the people here”

I wipe my tears with the sleeve of my shirt. and look down at my hands. “ Nobody can help because,

I’m pregnant with Loki’s baby” ..

Chapter one

My mother used to tell me that everything was for a reason and that god has set up for me for a good reason in my life. But what my mother didn’t tell me was that getting knocked up by a god at the age of 23 was the plan that a “god” had for me.

This was a whole new game for me and whats left of the avengers team but for overall for me mostly. Since I’m the one pushing the damn thing out of me in 9 months or so.

When I told Stephen that I was pregnant with Loki’s baby hell broke loose. Well let me rephrase that.

Fury wanted me to be locked up because I was connected with a war criminal. Carol wanted to blast me off for being so stupid. Bruce was scratching his head like fifty times at once because how in the hell I was going to give birth to a semi-god. Thor was the only one happy because he had at least some family left couldn’t wait to be a uncle and wanted me to give birth in New Asgard but soon that idea went away when he left with the guardians. And well lastly Stephen was in a screaming match with me for over an hour of how stupid moron idiotic person I am , of letting myself getting pregnant of a super galactic international war criminal. And honestly I couldn’t agree more with everything that happened.

It is stupid of me getting prego of a criminal, and even more when he’s like dead dead and probs never coming back. But at the same time who could blame? I was horny he was too, we both good looking people, we took the chance and honestly to what ever god I don’t regret what happened in that ship, one of the best nights of my life...

Sakarian Refugees Ship..

“Did that just-“ I get cut of by loki

“ Happen?, yes” he says as he sits up the against the bed head board.

I look up at him and smile. “ This was the most Idiot thing I ever done ” I say as I take a breath.

“really?” he asks as he pushes his hair away from his face.

I nod “ yea, but I don’t regret one bit of it” I say with a small smile.

Loki smiles at me and leans down to my face “ good because I don’t either” he leans closer and gives me a kiss. But is soon comes to an end as Thor voice enters the room.

“Loki! We need help theres a ship coming towards us and its not stopping after numerous calls of peace!”

Loki pulls away and takes a deep breath “ well I guess that the end of that” I grab one side of of his face and pass my fingers over his smooth skin. “ don’t worry theres going to be more” I say as I lean over to him for another kiss but I am stopped as the ship moves unexpectedly as like something shooting us.

I look at Loki worried and gives me the same look. “we need to get dressed now!” he says and I nod with him and as we both get off the bed and start getting dressed as fast we could...

Present

Now I’m sitting in a cold white bed in the ginecoligist office waiting to get my first ultra sound done. My case was the worlds most confusing ones. My baby was turn into dust inside of me after the bleep happend or so like Bruce likes to say, you had a dust baby for five years and when the snap was reversed your baby re appeared again. Every doctor in the country wanted to be my doctor and do it for free which man is every pregnant woman dream!. One of this things are so expensive its more expensive then a damn house.

But thanks to Pepper Recommendation I am here with her ginecologist who helped her tru her pregnancy. Which means i’m in very good hands.

“ok, i’m sorry for the wait Ms?” The Doctor aks as she sits in the chair and puts gloves on.

“Jones , Tara Jones” I say as I lift my shirt up and lean down in the bed.

“Ok Tara, My name Is Leslie Williams were going just going to check how the little baby is doing and let you on the basic stuff ok?” she says as she takes container with something jelly inside of it.

I smile and nod.

“ok perfect ,Lets see whats happening inside. I’m going to put this jelly in your stomach its going to feel cold but it will go in a few minutes” she says as she opens up the tube and pours our the cold jelly in my stomach. and starst moving the device around my stomach.

“ Is the Father coming later or”

I Swallow a bit and bite my lip “ no its just me”

“ Oh well, you’re going to be a great mother alone or not don’t let those bad anxieties take over ok. Everything is going to be ok. And in your particular case were going to do everything we can to make this process as painless and smooth as we can”. she says with a warm smile.

i give her a toothless smile. Cmo’n! I am giving birth to a semi-god. I can hear my screaming already. I had a dust baby. A DUST BABY that has to have complications somehow. I am human after all. and to make it all worst the one person who could tell me how this could go was strangled to death so thats great and awsome to start with.

“I mean its not going to be smooth it all. I am giving birth to a god. I am a simple human, the only special thing about me is my magic and this baby. Who’s Father is never going to be with me because a big purple alien with a purple ballsack of a face thought it was a good idea to get rid half of the population and stangle him to death until his eyes was crying blood and then go live in a farm like some red neck in tennessee. No its not going to be fine or smooth or happy or wonderful. So don’t be say things that won’t ever happen please.

The Doctor stares at me in shock. and proceeds to look for the baby. “ i’m sorry to hear that Ms Jones I had no idea.” she says as she keeps looking at the screen.

I take a deep breath pass my hands all over my face “ its ok, I’m used to it by now”

She nods. and when I was about to tell her that I was sorry of how I reacted she stared pointing to the screen and say “ there, theres it is. You’re baby. “

I look closer to the screen and see a tiny circle. A tiny innocent circle that was growing inisde of me. it looked like the size of a 5 peas together.

“you’re Four weeks in the pregnancy, the exams all look great, nothing looks like is altered by the bleep. It looks like you just got pregnant four weeks ago not five years ago. Which its is a medical miracle discovery. “ she says taking off her gloves.

I nod at her while still looking at the screen, I lean over and pass my fingers thru the screen. Thats my baby there. My circle god dust baby.

the Doctor looks at me and crosses her arms against her chest. “ do you want a picture of the ultra sound?”

I nod not looking way from the monitor “ yea”

the Doctor smiles and leaves the room.

I still stare at the monitor. Thats my and Loki’s baby. Who knew that a one-night stand with a god would have lead to this. It was stupid of me not using protection but what did i know? for all I thought humans couldn’t get pregnant by gods.

But I do know that is this is going to be a very bumpy ride... With my dust baby.

🦋—————————————————-

Thank you for reading the first chapter of Idiot hope you guys liked it!! remember to leave a comment, like and reblog pls! also if want to be tagged for the next chapter dm! bye love you guys! 🦋🦋

[everysongineverykey]

hyperfix: a real short semi-memoir

the year is unknown. i am as young as five to as old as eight. i am aimlessly pulling out random books from the family bookshelf, hoping something good will turn up. by chance, i remove a book of greek myths from the titles. i’m intrigued, plus bored, and settle down and open it. twenty minutes later i am flipping through the pages excitedly, reveling in the wonder, the magic the stories give me. my heart is pounding with a strange kind of joy and i’m quietly squealing every five minutes. i hug the book to my chest once done. it begins.

 the year is probably about 2018 or 2019. i’m in the living room and have just conceded to my mother that fine, i’ll watch ONE episode of star trek if it’ll shut you up, and am now settling in. my mum is flicking through the tng episodes, stopping on Data’s Day, season four, saying, i know you’ll just LOVE this! you’ll DEFINITELY relate to data. i, ever stubborn, am not convinced. as the episode plays, however, i find myself becoming strangely attached to this pale-skinned, yellow-eyed android and his awkward misadventures. i laugh at “the dancing doctor” and smile at geordi’s interactions with his best friend. i feel oddly joyful by the time the credits roll, and it is as if a spark has ignited in my chest. eventually, after extensive tng bingeing, i concede to watching the ds9 premiere with my dad. it leaves me warm and fuzzy inside, and the spark lights up again. it begins.

the year is 2019, late march. i’m on a plane to houston for a school trip. we’re not actually going to houston- we just have to fly there and then grab a flight to costa rica, where we will do almost nothing of educational value. i’m appropriately excited. unfortunately, i’ve finished my book, and the flight is deadly dull, and the movie systems are such that the movies all start at the same time before takeoff and cannot be paused, sped through, or rewound at any point during the flight. to make matters not necessarily worse, but certainly more annoying, there are eight movies, among which are a star is born (boring, unoriginal, insufferably heterosexual), wreck it ralph 2 (a clear cash grab, plus too young for my taste), something called can you ever forgive me which doesn’t look interesting, and... bohemian rhapsody. curious. at this time, i have little to no knowledge of queen or freddie mercury, knowing merely that there was at one point a band called queen who at one point wrote we will rock you, we are the champions, and another one bites the dust, and their lead singer was a man named freddie mercury, who died tragically of aids. i haven’t even fully heard bohemian rhapsody (well, i have, but have never paid attention to it) due to lack of interest. i have heard about this movie. it’s the least bad of the choices, and it has rami malek in it! well, well, well! if it’s got the night at the museum guy in it, it can’t be that bad, right? i watch it. i’ve landed right in the middle, so half of the plot is a mystery to me, but the rest? good god. i stomp and clap (quietly) right along with the music and giggle at the one-liners. i only have time to watch the first half on the plane to costa rica, but on the ride back, i get the full experience. back at home i listen to all the queen i can get my hands on. it’s the first music i’ve ever listened to that makes me feel things strongly. somebody to love, killer queen, bring back that leroy brown, all dead all dead. it begins.

the year is 2020. almost certainly 2020. i’m scrolling through tumblr mindlessly, searching for an escape from boredom, when quite a long post catches my eye. it’s been reblogged by someone i follow at least twice (same person each time), but the first time i didn’t pay much attention to it, because who cares about sherlock holmes when you’ve got miss marple, poirot, tommy and tuppence, and all of agatha christie’s other wonderfully charming detectives? this time, though, it’s different. this time, my language arts class is reading the curious incident of the dog in the night-time, a book which i have already seen the play version of and am not particularly dazzled by. a book that mentions sherlock holmes many times. so now, my interest has been somewhat sparked. the post, with multiple add-ons, details all of book-sherlock-holmes’s soft, kind characteristics, talks about how he’s a warm and genuine person in the books. i finish reading it for the second time and am oddly charmed by it, and i look thoughtfully over to the complete sherlock holmes book on my desk, the one that’s been lying there for god knows how long since my dad put it there thinking i’d take an interest in it, and think, well, could it hurt to give a study in scarlet a quick read? the answer is no. no it most definitely could not. holmes’s excitement over his experiments, his chivalry with women, and the way he just seems to quietly fall in love with watson all win me over. i keep reading. it begins.

[daryldix0narchived]

hey there! long time, no see!

// so i’ll be returning to this blog because i’ve missed my boy so much. but i am going to do it with some changes and updates for my own sanity and enjoyment on mah dash!  including!

. putting daryl’s main verse as divergent and going from semi-private status to private and mutuals only. it won’t mean i’m not open to new mutuals but i would prefer we plot and chat first! 

. more updates on his main verse soon but it will be in a plotline i have with @takenpeace and AUs/Canon will still be welcome but plot-based would be preferred as that is what i see that sticks!

. mains and exclusives pruning! if you would like to remain on the list, give me a heads up!

. tags update!

. follow list prune of dead or inactive accounts! (more a laundry list for me there!)

what i need from my lovely peoples??

. please like this post if you want to keep any old threads! or i will archive them and we can start fresh! i’m going to make a separate post so i don’t reblog this long thing over and over. but please like or comment below if you’d like to continue any threads. PLEASE if you can?? link me to the ones you want to keep as my threadtracker is VERY out of date since it stopped working and i’m starting a new one!

that’s about it that i know of. i’ve missed daryl immensely and i can’t wait to reconnect with my boy and dive back in before the fall! :D discord available to mutuals by request! PST ME!

[sebastiianstan]

Tumblr content school: why you don’t always get notes and how to (potentially) get a bit more

So in recent weeks, I’ve seen quite a few posts floating around that centre around the same subject: content creators, mainly gifmakers, not gaining followers as quickly as they would like to and/or not getting as many notes on their original content as they would like to. Most recently I’ve seen people share their like-to-reblog ratio, with a call to users to also reblog content instead of just liking it, which would result in more exposure and recognition for the creator.

Now, while all of those feelings are perfectly valid and you’re obviously allowed to post whatever you like on your blog, the conversation around this is quite unnuanced and, at times, a bit uninformed. I’m not claiming to be some kind of expert, but having been a content creator (gifmaker) on this platform for quite a few years, with my own small share of popular gifsets floating around and having built both my own blog an two fansites/group blogs to at least moderate success, I do think I have a certain degree of insight re: getting notes, so I thought I’d put in my two cents. Please note that I’m not making this post to be condescending in any way, or even to tell you what to do/how to create content, but I thought I’d help as much as I can, based on my own experience.

Below the cut are 1. reasons why I think gifsets don’t always get the number of notes you wanted/expected them to, and 2. tips on creating and posting content in a way that will potentially get you more notes.

Why you might not be getting (a lot) of notes

So let’s start with some general trends re: gifsets not getting as many notes as you’d like/expect, and not as many as they would have maybe a few years ago.

1. Tumblr is past its peak

Based on experience, I’d say fandom Tumblr reached its peak in 2015-2016, and was riding that out in 2017. I’ve mainly been a Marvel blog in recent years, so I can’t speak for other fandoms, but Tumblr was... wild in the lead-up to and aftermath of Captain America: Civil War (2016). Wonder Woman (2017) was a similar situation on the DC side of things. 

New Marvel releases (like Ant-Man & The Wasp, Avengers: Infinity War and probably most notably, Black Panther) still get a lot of traction and fandom definitely isn’t dead on Tumblr, but I feel like 2015-2016 were definitely peak years. I only recently returned from a year-long hiatus; I stopped being active in late 2017 and even then my dashboard wasn’t quite as active as it was a year before that. Upon returning here about a month ago, most of my mutuals from back in the day had also become inactive and a lot of gifmakers I used to follow were not creating content anymore.

So it boils down to this: I think it’s very likely that the amount of active users within your fandom has diminished significantly as compared to two years ago. A set that may have gotten 10k notes within a few days in 2016 might now only get half of that.

2. The URL thing

This is a sad truth, but it does seem that having a semi-canon or canon url does at least help with getting a larger amount of notes on your content. I have no tips on getting a canon url (I got very, very lucky with this one), but this is a simple observation I have from over the years. Url trading/selling has basically become a genuine business due to this - canon urls are in high demand.

More importantly, what I can say is that it’s smart not to change your url too often. Becoming a popular content creator on this platform is basically the same as building a brand - and a brand has an easily recognized name. Once you have a url you are happy with, try to stick to it for a while. When you change your url, links break on reblogs of your old gifsets, by the way.

3. The like-to-reblog ratio has always been unbalanced

For as long as I can remember, posts have gotten more likes than reblogs. If your ratio is 2-to-1 or 3-to-1, trust me, you are doing perfectly well for yourself! Again, as with my first point, this might have gotten a bit more extreme since 2016, but it’s not a new thing.

4. Popular users support each other

Obviously there’s nothing wrong with this (in fact, I love that we all support each other), but yes, in general big/popular blogs are friends with each other and tend to reblog each other’s content, which can be discouraging for smaller or aspiring content creators on the platform.

However, please be aware that these big blogs built up the following they have by posting content for years and it just takes time. Also, know that most users on here actually really enjoy being tagged in your posts - so if you gif a movie or tv show you know a popular user (that you follow) likes, tag them in it and if it’s high quality content (I’ll touch on this later), they’ll probably reblog it.

Tips on getting more notes

Alright, on to part two: my personal tips on getting more notes. These are strictly based on my own experience, and as a repeat of my disclaimer earlier: I am genuinely trying to share my knowledge; none of this is with the intent of being a condescending know-it-all.

1. Don’t look like you’re complaining

No matter what the intent behind your post about your lack of notes and/or followers is, it’s very likely you’re going to come off entitled or ungrateful. I’ve personally unfollowed multiple users who post consistently about reaching their next thousand, who make angry/frustrated posts when their followers don’t increase as quickly as they’d like to, when they lose followers, etc. I understand that the hustle is frustrating, but posts like these are really quite annoying for your followers; you’re complaining about followers you don’t have to followers you do have, who are then more likely to unfollow you because it looks like you’re complaining. Your mutuals might understand why you’re posting this, but others probably don’t.

When it comes to posts about like-to-reblog ratios, which I’ve seen a fair few of recently, please consider a couple of things. 

When you ask people to reblog your post instead of liking it, you are essentially telling them what to put on their own blogs.

A lot of users on here have carefully curated content; while some users simply blog about everything they like, others stick to a certain set of subjects/movies/tv shows. If they see a post they like that doesn’t fall into those categories, they’ll give it a like to keep track of it and show their appreciation, but won’t put it on their blogs. You can’t tell people to reblog something they don’t want to.

You’re essentially asking people that you do not really personally care about to do something for you. Most of the likes you get on your post are likely from people that you do not follow yourself. I’m not saying that you hate your followers or don’t care for them, but you can’t really ask anything of a user that you don’t even follow yourself.

Look at it this way: Tumblr is basically a mini society, with its own market in the form of content creation. The ones who have a few thousand followers, and who get a few hundred or a few thousand notes on their posts are already the lucky ones. If you’re a user who gets hundreds/thousands of notes on their posts (even if it’s not as many as you like or deserve), you should keep in mind that the vast majority of users on here are small blogs that don’t have the traction that you have. If you post a screenshot of the like-to-reblog ratio on a post that has 2k notes, they’re going to think, “what on earth are you complaining about?”

Posts like these can really only backfire. I don’t think it’s likely that a lot of users will suddenly start reblogging instead of liking because of them. I know those posts are getting traction, because your mutuals and fellow content creators understand your frustration (believe me, I do too!), so they reblog/like/comment on it, but you’re essentially in an echo chamber of content creators. Anyone outside of that circle will not understand it and might unfollow you because of it.

2. Quality

Another disclaimer: I’m not implying that the people who have made posts about notes/followers don’t make HQ gifs. This is simply the “tips on getting notes” section of this particular post, so that’s what I’m doing. Veteran gifmakers can skip this section because I won’t be presenting anything new here.

Here’s the thing: high quality gifsets get notes. I know that what constitutes a HQ gif is subjective, but there is a consensus on this amongst big blogs, so I will summarize it below.

Make gifs from high-quality video sources. If 1080p is available, use that. Don’t gif from videos below 720p. Also, the larger the t*rr*nt file, the higher the quality. If a 1080p t*rr*nt from a movie is under 2GB in size, it’s probably not decent enough to gif from.

Use the new dimensions. Tumblr changed from 500px to 540px over 3 years ago now I believe, and all the big blogs use these dimensions. I rarely see sets like this anymore, but some users do still hold on to the old dimensions. Obviously, you should do what you like, but know that you’ll get more notes if you make the switch.

Do not skip frames. If you use screencaps, extract 25 frames per second. If you are an ‘Import video frames to layers’ kinda gal, like me, import all frames.

Sharpen your gifs! It makes an insane difference. My faq section links to a sharpening action.

Your frame delay should be 0.05. If you have a low amount of frames, you can get away with 0.06, but do not make your gif any slower than that. It will look unsmooth.

Go for natural coloring, where you simply brighten up the gif and enhance the colors (beware of whitewashing tho). I know that using PSD’s from resource blogs is tempting, but it’s very likely they will not work for the particular scene you’re giffing. It’s best if you learn to color yourself and adapt your coloring for every set. Also, it’s up to you what you think is pretty, but extremely vibrant and extremely pale coloring isn’t very popular anymore. Natural is the way to go. (This is with the exception of those gorgeous color edits people have been making recently. Y’all are queens & that shit is hard to make yo!)

If your gif is larger than the 3mb limit, NEVER sacrifice colors in the ‘Save for web’ window. Always delete frames to lower the size of your gif.

Just saying, but Photoshop CS5 has been known to make the best gifs.

For beginners out there, please don’t be discouraged. I’ve been making gifs for years, and they were absolute shit in the beginning. It just takes time to learn, but if you stick to it, you’ll get there.

3. Concept over quantity

Allow me to draw a comparison with YouTubers here - I think we all prefer YouTubers who post one well fleshed out video a week (for example, Safiya Nygaard) over YouTubers who post an okay video every day.

I think a lot of users think the way to get notes and followers is to post a gifset every day. This probably does work to an extent, but I personally think it’s better to come up with original concepts that you post every few days.

When you watch a movie, you can make five gifsets out of scenes from that movie, or you can come up with a concept. For example, parallels between scenes, parallels with other movies, the best lines of a certain character, etc. This takes more work, but sets like these are highly appreciated because they’re original, and they tend to get more notes.

This doesn’t apply to new releases, as you are probably among the first to gif a particular scene, but if you’re giffing a scene from a movie that’s been out for a while, you’re very likely not the first to do it. People will see it, realize they’ve already reblogged something very similar, and keep scrolling. But if you come up with a new idea, that’s what’ll get you more traction.

To give you a personal example; I recently rewatched all of the cap films. Now, I could have giffed popular scenes like “I could do this all day” or “I’m with you ‘til the end of the line”, but that’s been done before... a lot. Instead, I came up with this, and got 6.5k notes. I haven’t posted that many new sets on my blog recently, but posting content like that has gained me some followers and new mutuals.

4. Timing

All this requires is keeping an eye on your dashboard and taking note of when most of the people you follow are online. I sometimes see European content creators posting their sets smack dab in the middle of the day. Lemme tell y’all something: the Americans are sleeping.

I’m in timezone GMT+1. My dash wakes up around 5pm. I never post before 6pm - I’ll post anywhere between then and midnight, so feel free to convert that to your own timezone. The scheduling feature on posts comes in handy if you’ll be asleep or at school/work around that time.

If you post when Tumblr isn’t active, your set will drown in all of the other content, so be smart about timing.

5. Strategic tagging

It seems that a lot of users still don’t know this: only the first five tags on your post show up in tags on Tumblr. Anything past the first five will only be useful for your own tagging/archiving system, but will not show up in any tracked tags.

So first point: always use the most prominent edit tag for the fandom you’re posting in. Examples are #marveledit, #hpedit, #filmedit. These are frequently used, and often tracked by big blogs.

Second point: figure out who the big fansites/group blogs are, and if they track a tag, tag them. Make sure you follow them, obviously. If your post is funny, you might wanna tag bob-belcher (#bbelcher) as well - this blog is popular across fandoms and posts content from all over!

Third: tag users who you think will like your post. Don’t be thirsty with this. Again, only do this if you follow them. Tagging 2-3 users is ok, but don’t be out there tagging 8 to 10 blogs on your post. Not only is that a little pointless (because only the first five tags will show up), it also makes you look thirsty. Users might not appreciate this, and ultimately might not reblog your post because of that. Also, try not to tag the same users on every single one of your posts.

6. Popular content

If your fandom is niche, so is your content. That’s perfectly fine; don’t feel pressured to post about anything that isn’t your passion.

But if your goal really is to get more notes and followers, create content from fandoms that are big on the platform. Examples are Marvel, Harry Potter, Star Wars, film blogs, etc.

7. Join a fansite/group blog

Every big fandom on Tumblr has one or multiple fansites/group blogs. I recommend you figure out who they are for your fandom, and apply to one that’s accepting new members. You’ll likely get in if your gifs are HQ.

I know this sounds a bit counterintuitive, as you’ll be posting content on another blog that will be getting the notes and followers from it, but it actually is a good way to gain more exposure. These blogs have large amounts of followers, and they usually allow you to reblog your own content to them, as long as you’re active. I think it’s a great way to get your content out there.

Alright, time to wrap up this post. I’m not personally calling out anyone who has made posts about followers, notes, like-to-reblog ratios, etc. I’ve seen at least 15 of those posts in recent weeks so I’m just reacting to a trend I’m seeing, by presenting a potential solution to a problem people seem to be having. 

My last tip is this: if notes and followers on Tumblr are making you feel down or frustrated, maybe it’s time for a little hiatus or a step back. In the end, you are not getting paid for this and your popularity on the platform has no bearing on your real life. This is supposed to be a fun outlet for your passions and interests, not a source of frustration and anger. Don’t take it too seriously! You’re doing amazing sweetie.