#so i think thats the direction im going to go with this prompt

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 268

Adjective: Yellow

Noun: Funeral

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Yellow: of the color between green and orange in the spectrum, a primary subtractive color complementary to blue, or colored like ripe lemons or egg yolks; (informal) cowardly

Funeral: the ceremonies honoring a dead person, typically involving burial or cremation; (rare) (US) a sermon delivered at a funeral; (archaic) (literary) a procession of mourners at a burial

[teefsintheweb]

Mermay day 1 and 2

[secret-sturniolo]

jealousy, jealousy - chris sturniolo

summary - After y/n starts talking to a guy she met at a party, Chris expresses some feelings that he had been trying to suppress.

warnings - angst, fluff, some kissing

a/n - you guys asked and you shall receive! im blown away that i had over 100 responses on my poll, so thank you. also, thank you for over 25 followers and over 100 likes in like 3 days, i think thats crazy lol <3 i know a lot of people also wanted the "stay with me tonight" prompt, so i think that will be the next thing i write for chris

When I met the triplets, we were in our junior year of high school. I first connected with Nick the most, but after he introduced me to his brothers, the three of us became almost inseparable. From the minute I first met Chris, I immediately thought he was cute. I wouldn't say I had a crush, but I was definitely developing feelings. But as time went on and I got to know Chris more, I very quickly learned two things about him. One, he was scared of commitment, and two, he didn't even want a girlfriend. To be honest, this disappointed me, knowing that I would never have a chance with him, but I didn't take it to heart or let it bother me much because I didn't want to lose our friendship. So, when I met this guy at a party and he asked for my number, I happily gave it to him.

We were at an influencer event, and like usual the triplets invited me to join them as their plus-one. At some point, we got separated and began to mingle with other people, which wasn't unusual for us. A nice looking guy slowly made his way over to me, flashing me a shy smile. We started with small talk, but as more time went on we became more engrossed in our conversation, both of us enjoying it. I glanced around, looking for any signs of my friends when I saw Chris out of the corner of my eye. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, trying not to make it obvious that I was looking. He had an uncharacteristic scowl on his face, looking in my direction. I thought that was weird, noting to talk to him about it later. When we felt the conversation wrapping up, the guy asked me for my number, telling me he wanted to take me out sometime. With a smile, I took his phone and entered my contact information. Just as I was handing him his phone back, I heard someone behind me clear their throat.

"Oh, Chris, there you are! I was just talking to Luke here." I turned to Luke. "Luke, this is my friend Chris!"

"Nice to meet you, man." Luke reached out to shake Chris's hand.

I noticed Chris's jaw was tightly clenched as he silently shook Luke's hand. Chris then turned to me.

"Hey y/n, you ready to get out of here? Matt's going to start the car." He said, still tense.

"Um, yeah, that's fine."

Luke put his hand on the small of my back and smiled, as he told me he would talk to me later. As Luke turned to walk away, Chris roughly grabbed my arm and pulled me away.

"What the fuck, Chris! What is up with you?" I said, harshly.

"So you just met that guy and your already agreeing to go on a date with him?"

"Nobody said anything about a date! We were just having a good time."

"Yeah, I bet you were." he scoffed.

"Oh, so I'm not allowed to talk to other guys?"

Chris shot me a glare as his cheeks flushed pink. "Shut up."

"Oh my god, that's it! Chris, you're jealous, aren't you!" I said, eyes wide.

"I said shut up!" When we reached the car, he opened the door and pushed me in, before climbing in himself and sitting next to me.

The ride back to the triplets house was long and awkward, as everybody could sense the tension coming from the backseat, but nobody said anything. I watched as Chris pulled his phone out and opened my contact, not wanting to talk out loud.

we need to talk. come to my room when we get home. 7:35pm

I looked at the text, then glanced at Chris, silently letting him know I understood. Once we arrived home, Matt unlocked the door and Chris walked straight down the stairs to his room. Matt and Nick must have understood that Chris and I needed to talk, because they silently made their way to the living room to give us space. I softly knocked on Chris's door.

"Come in, y/n."

I opened the door, closing it behind me. He was sitting on his bed, back against the headboard. he motioned for me to come sit next to him, and I silently made my way over. We sat in silence for a few minutes before Chris finally spoke.

"I was a dick, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, do you want to tell me why you were so upset?"

He leaned his head back against the bed frame and sighed. "You're gonna think it's stupid."

I gently put my hand on his thigh as I looked over to meet his gaze.

"Please Chris, just tell me. I promise I won't think it's stupid."

"Okay. You know how I'm not good with feelings? Well, I guess I've been having some feelings that I don't know how to deal with."

"Okay, go on?"

"Listen, I know I've always said I didn't want a girlfriend, but when I saw you with Luke today and how happy he made you... I don't know. I guess I realized that I want to be the one that makes you that happy."

"Chris-"

"No, let me finish. I've spent so long trying to deny my feelings about you, and I can't do it anymore. So even if you don't feel the same I just needed to tell you-" he rambles on.

"Chris!" I say, getting his attention. He turned to me, letting me know he was listening. My hand found its way into his, our fingers interlocking. "You know, you make me happier than any other guy ever could. Luke was nice, but hes not the guy I really want."

"Oh yeah? So who is this guy, then?" he says with a cocky grin on his face.

"Just shut up and kiss me already!"

Chris seemed surprised at this demand, but quickly recovered, not wanting to lose his chance. He turns his body to face mine, gently cupping my cheek before leaning in to kiss me. The kiss was long and passionate, finally releasing both of our pent up feelings and things we couldn't say with words. Finally, we both pull away, his hands still on my cheek.

"Y/n, I'm ready to try this with you." he says with a serious look.

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?" I ask.

He chuckles. "Yes, I want you to be my girlfriend."

"You already know I'm all yours." I smirk.

Without a word, he pulls me into one more kiss.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" he asks me sincerely.

"I would love to, Chris."

Excitedly, he jumps up out of bed. "Perfect, I'll get you some clothes to sleep in. T-shirt or hoodie?"

Amused at his excitement, I smile and reply, "A hoodie would be great!"

He walks over to his closet and picks out his favorite hoodie and gives it to me.

"Chris, isn't this your favorite?"

"Yeah, that's why I want you to wear it. Plus, it looks better on you than it does on me." he says with a wink.

Once we were both ready for bed, he laid down next to me, our noses almost touching.

"Roll over." he says.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Just roll over, trust me."

I do as he says, and he immediately pulls me into him, my back against his chest.

"That better?" he asks me.

"So much better." I say, melting into his embrace.

"Goodnight, y/n." Chris tells me admiringly.

"Goodnight, Chris." I say, drifting off to sleep.

Laying there wrapped safely in Chris's strong arms, I realized that all of the puzzle pieces had finally fit together in the most perfect way. Everything was as it always should have been, and I couldn't have been happier.

[dasiesanddarkness]

wesper winter ✨day three✨

theme: first meetings

prompt: through a friend

summary:

17:32 in Bad Bitches 💅

witch: INEJ

witch: INEJ

witch: INEJ

witch: INEJ

witch: INEJ

witch: INEJ

wifey: WHAT

witch: JESPER

wifey: YES

witch: AND

witch: WYLAN

witch: DO YOU SEE THE VISION

wifey:...

wifey: I SEE IT

witch: THATS WHAT IM SAYING

witch renamed “Bad Bitches 💅” to “Matchmaking Services”

witch: buckle up bitches we got work to do

wifey: let’s brainstorm

no tw, and general audiences

full thing below the cut!

17:32 in Bad Bitches 💅

witch: INEJ

witch: INEJ

witch: INEJ

witch: INEJ

witch: INEJ

witch: INEJ

wifey: WHAT

witch: JESPER

wifey: YES

witch: AND

witch: WYLAN

witch: DO YOU SEE THE VISION

wifey:...

wifey: I SEE IT

witch: THATS WHAT IM SAYING

witch renamed “Bad Bitches 💅” to “Matchmaking Services”

witch: buckle up bitches we got work to do

wifey: let’s brainstorm

***

“Can I at least see a picture?”

Wylan was in Nina’s room, trying to decide which sweater to wear to his date. His blind date, with someone who, according to Nina and Inej, would be perfect for him.

“Then it wouldn’t be a blind date, would it? Here, try this one.” Nina passed him another sweater, and Wylan grumbled but pulled the other one over his head to try this one on. “I can assure you he’s gorgeous, if it helps.”

“It doesn’t,” Wylan said. He plucked at the sweater and appraised himself in Nina’s full length mirror. “I think I need a necklace.”

“Right you are, love. Luckily, I already thought of that.” Nina winked and held out two, a delicate choker, and a much longer chain with a pendant. She watched as he clipped them around his neck, and reached out to adjust how the choker was centered when he finished.

Wylan turned to look at himself in the mirror again. He thought he looked rather nice, actually. Hopefully, it was enough to impress his date.

“You look adorable.” Nina reached out to pinch his cheek teasingly, and Wylan scowled and swatted at her hand.

“If that’s all-”

“Yes, yes, and you look hot, Saints.” Nina rolled her eyes. “If you weren’t so vain, maybe we wouldn’t have been here for the last hour.”

“I was going to go with the first outfit I tried on, but you insisted-”

“Hush, Wylan, and hold still. I need to send Inej a picture,” Nina scolded. She was grinning widely, which only made Wylan roll his eyes. But he listened and didn’t move so she could take her picture and send it off to Inej.

“He better not be as insufferable as you,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair to try to get it to lay flat.

“Worry not, dear,” said Nina as she patted his shoulder, “He’s worse.”

***

“You look better in the purple,” Inej told him.

“I look amazing in everything,” Jesper replied, but he turned and started to switch shirts. As he did, his mind wandered back to his date. “Why won’t you show me a picture?”

“Because Nina wouldn’t show him one, and it would be unfair for you to know what he looked like if he doesn’t know what you look like.”

“Well, if he’d seen a picture of me, he’d have passed out because I’m so hot.” Jesper winked at Inej in the mirror. “I have that effect.”

“And yet, I haven’t passed out in your presence even once.”

“Well, that’s because your type is anemic white boys that have no sense of style,” reasoned Jesper. “I’m the exact opposite of all those things, so of course I don’t appeal to you.”

Inej didn’t respond. Instead, she had turned a critical eye onto his eyeshadow collection. “I will tell you that he has red hair,” she said absentmindedly.

“He’ll be easy to find, at least,” Jesper mumbled. Inej snorted.

“Hurry up and do your makeup.” She handed him one of his pallets and a brush. “You can’t be late to your first date.”

***

Wylan was terrified. Inej and Nina had both agreed that he’d like Jesper. but that changed very little. What if Jesper didn’t like him? It wouldn’t be unreasonable. He’d had plenty dates tell him he was awkward, or too direct, or-

“Are you Wylan?”

Wylan very nearly jumped out of his chair. “Ye-yes, that’s-” he coughed, awkwardly, “Yes, that’s me. You must be Jesper?”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Jesper held out his hand, but when Wylan took it, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his knuckles with a wink. He could feel his cheeks flush embarrassingly, and glanced away.

His friends had been right. He did like Jesper. He was outrageously gorgeous, for one thing. He had the most perfectly shaped lips Wylan had ever seen, and a broad nose and grey eyes that Wylan would love to paint some time.

“You too.” Wylan smiled weakly. He should say something, before he made everything awkward and drove this beautiful man away. “I, um, like your makeup.”

Jesper smiled, and Wylan had the wonderful feeling that he’d done something right. “Thank you,” he said, “I like your necklaces.”

“Oh they- they’re Nina’s, actually. She insisted I come over so she could help me get ready, and then made me try on about a million different shirts before she decided this one looked good, and-” Wylan cut himself off. Jesper tilted his head, and Wylan blushed again. “Sorry, I just… Well, I feel a little underdressed, to be honest.”

Jesper reached out to place a hand over his. Wylan looked down at it with wide eyes, then back up at him. “You look wonderful,” Jesper assured him. “I think your outfit suits you.”

“And how would you know? You barely know me, after all.” Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? It had been going so well, but his incessant need to be contrary had likely just ruined everything.

Instead of looking offended or weirded out, Jesper grinned. “So help me get to know you. What do you like, Wylan?”

Wylan smiled. Maybe Nina and Inej were right. Maybe this would go well.

***

21:16 in “Matchmaking Services”

wifey: okay i just got off the phone with Wylan

wifey: it went *very* well

witch: CURRENTLY AT JESPER’S

witch: HE WONT STOP TALKING ABOUT HOW ADORABLE WYLAN WAS WHEN HE TALKED ABOUT MUSIC

witch: I DO BELIEVE WE CAN CALL THIS MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

wifey: i would agree

wifey: operation wesper was a success

witch: oh without a doubt

witch: were great at this

wifey: couldn’t agree more, nina

wifey: couldn’t agree more

@wesper-winter

[fandomfantasyy]

MASSIVE WARNING FOR II 17 SPOILERS ++ INANIMATE INSANITY THEORY ++ ADAM KATZ TWITTER CODE SOLVING !!

i am holding onto way more hope than i should, however, this is a stray theory of mine that im holding onto for said hopes sake.

to those who haven't watched ii 17 yet, PLEASE keep scrolling. i mention just about everything that happened in the episode, and im basically reviewing it at the start. the episode is so much better without any spoilers!!

so, inanimate insanity 17. if you don't wanna hear me blabber on and on about the episode, scroll to the other big text. otherwise i am RANTING i need an outlet. 3:

inanimate insanity 17 was a rodeo. me and my partner had a few straggling theories before we watched it, and a few of them were true. knife did indeed punch cobs, they really did fight, everyone that heard was disappointed to find out they were made by mephone 4.

starting with the majority of the opening sequence, going from memory here, knife's desperation? ow. suitcase's new found paranoia? OW. them doing everything to find out what was wrong was so bittersweet, because you can just tell that they don't know how to stop it and are holding onto to random theories and hope.

nearing more of the middle section, i completely forgot that bow could possess people. made me giggle a bit tbh….. besides that, I HATE COBS HE MANIPULATED MY BABY, TOILET. ☹️ the admission of guilt from mephone 4, only to realize his apology could never speak loud enough almost killed me. lightbulb, fan, and test tube, all dead. the bright lights poly. when toilet told mepad that he understood it wasn't a competition anymore? and when cobs pulled off toilet and begun killing everyone? jesus christ dude (also im a little sad at the lack of extra pronunciation on "your" when paper yelled at salt saying "hes not your boyfriend" as a payjay shipper but....)

more on the end side, the fight convinced me for a damn while. it doesn't make sense to me how one single throw got knife extremely scuffed and chipped, but it's finneee, it's show logic!! :3 anygays. the main painful time. the pull of the plug, prompting toilet to call himself "the best assistant", the way knife put his hand on suitcase to comfort her, the way cobs SACRIFICED MEPHONE X??? dude this show is gonna make me go bonkers.

last but not least, "the show is over," and mephone 4 has no choice but to go back "home" with cobs. ow.

there are still so many questions. the eggs helped power everything, but were they fake? how did mephone 4 find the land he built inanimate insanity on? obviously it isn't fake, he's still sitting on it at the end of the episode. where's 3gs? what about mepad? was mepad made up? too much to answer with too little information.

overall, what a painful episode. it seems like the end, right? wrong.

inanimate insanity is not over. we are getting ii18.

at least, thats my theory. average movie length spans 1½ hours to 2½ hours. us inanimate insanity fans were told that this finale would be as long as a movie. right now, we are only at an hour. i dont remember the last time i watched a movie that was only an hour. they're out there, yes, but i doubt the creators would pray on very short movies to support their angst.

adam katz's teasing on twitter / x, saying that mephone x was after him, only for his account to be seemingly gone or empty? there's no way adam simply quit twitter because he ended his line of work. it's a thing that happens, but i dont think this is that. most of adam's characters in the show died before the plug was pulled. is that a direct reference? i don't know.

as of october 15th, adam seemingly returned to twitter, but instead as the robot from ii17. why would they bring him back suddenly, why would they make this teaser? there's no real, legitimate explanation in my eyes... other than them maybe just wanting to torture us. that, however, is not the point.

continuing on adam robot twitter thing, on his twitter / x profile / status, (idk what it's called i don't use twitter / x,) it says, "Loading a large amount of files... / Estimated wait tim: 2880 minutes, 0 seconds". that directly translates to two days. we're heavily likely to get the true final episode or the trailer of such of ii2 in 2 days.

update for the above. on october 18th, around 3pm EST, a code to decipher was posted. someone in the comments of the twitter / x post said that it was "you seek to know the true reason for such a tragic second season if you decide you want to show more there may be something to restore see .com/insert code". we, the viewers might be bringing the show back.

season one and season three's final episodes ended with a "the end". ii17 did not have this end card. this seems like a very crucial thing that they couldn't just "leave out". after all, why on the most important finale of all of the finales so far, would they leave out saying "the end"? if it's truly the end, they wouldn't leave it with a black screen and a sobbing community. (the last part, maybe, but not the first part.....)

both season one ended with 18 episodes, and season three ended with 19 episodes. season two seems to almost be ending on episode 17. this could go either way, with season two ending with a pattern of 17-18-19, OR, if we're really lucky, 18-19-20. (or we just get an extra 18 or smth idk)

there is a reason why this is only a stray theory of mine. only 6 days before the release of ii17, adam katz and brian koch were saying their thank you's and goodbye's to the inanimate insanity community. it feels like the end of this show is near, if not sadly over now.

overall, i still have hope. but this wont be clear until we either see a ii18 trailer or we dont. i will regularly update this with new information as it gets found by me and my partner. goodbye for now, inanimate insanity community, and good luck.

robot adam's twitter saga.

adam katz's teasing on twitter / x, saying that mephone x was after him, only for his account to be seemingly gone or empty? there's no way adam simply quit twitter because he ended his line of work. it's a thing that happens, but i dont think this is that. most of adam's characters in the show died before the plug was pulled. is that a direct reference? i don't know.

as of october 15th, adam seemingly returned to twitter, but instead as the robot from ii17. why would they bring him back suddenly, why would they make this teaser? there's no real, legitimate explanation in my eyes... other than them maybe just wanting to torture us. that, however, is not the point.

continuing on adam robot twitter thing, on his twitter / x profile / status, (idk what it's called i don't use twitter / x,) it says, "Loading a large amount of files... / Estimated wait tim: 2880 minutes, 0 seconds". that directly translates to two days. we're heavily likely to get the true final episode or the trailer of such of ii2 in 2 days.

update for the above. on october 18th, around 3pm EST, a code to decipher was posted. someone in the comments of the twitter / x post said that it was "you seek to know the true reason for such a tragic second season if you decide you want to show more there may be something to restore see .com/insert code". (credits to @\NickleBFDIA2012 on twitter/x !!) we, the viewers might be bringing the show back.

connecting to that, more hints have already been found. there was a code on cabby's wiki that is decoded to “You want the second key word? These pages are your answer. Next, go to the three time player with the lowest average placement." (credits to @\MeesterTweester on twitter/x !!) this brought the fandom to nickel (i believe), and im not quite sure what it says.

however, i do know one thing. it's been solved, and my theory was proven true.

we will be getting episode 18 of inanimate insanity by late november.

[alexapillustration]

🪔 𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳 2024- 𝘋𝘢𝘺 10: 𝘜𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 🪔

๑

This is unfortunately my last piece for this year's Linktober 😭😭 This year and the end of last year have been insanely horrible for me and my family, and two permanent life changing things happened two weeks ago that are really negatively impacting my household and our daily lives, so, yeah, thats fun :') Right when I thought things were going in a better direction for us, everything came crashing down yet again 🤡

๑

But enough about my sob story, this piece took forever because I initially had too many ideas I didnt know what to do 😅 Laruto was probably my 4th or 5th attempt at this prompt, with all the others being different ideas entirely. I did attempt the two prompts after this but they both went the same way, and because of the irl stress I think the right call was to pull back and just do the 10 days this year, which again suCKS I just want to do all the days again but life keeps getting in the way 😭😭 Nonetheless, thank you all for the support during this spooky season!! I was inactive for most of the year so all the support really means a ton to me 🫶 I am working on an original painting currently so Im hoping to get that out soon ��

[reverie-verse]

Love Triangle Or Not (Four)- Pt 4 ..haha

Here are the other parts

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Anon Request Prompt: Y/N is a trainer (very well known for her badassness) She just came back from a mission; she gets a little jelly that Tris and Four had gotten closer. There’s some feelings but on who’s end? Four asks Y/N to help Tris. Being the amazing person she is, she agrees to help, but in the process she gets hurt. After the mission ends she returns home only to have an argument with Four. Leads to late night confessions  

I’m also making Y/N a Divergent but in secret. 

A couple things, this is ridiculously long, I put it in parts and I am releasing them all at the same time because it makes sense okay. Cooooooollll I hope you enjoy. 

Established something between Tris and Four. 

Yooo I am so sorry I know it says late night confeession but thats not what happend. Im sorry the story writes itself sometimes hahha.

My requests are OPEN

————————————————-

Four ran from the room he and Tris were in, Jeanin laid unconscious on the floor. His mind reeled back to you. His panic set in, the two of them ran together, Caleb, Marcus and Will were not too far behind them. “ We need to get to the train!” Tris says, she shifts her gaze to Four.

Four growls in irritation, you should’ve been back by now and you're not. Four comes to a halt and so does the rest of the group. 

“ What are you doing? We need to go now!” Tris yells.

“ It’s Y/N. I can’t leave. Just go to the train and get on, I’ll be right behind you guys”  Four runs in the opposite direction back into the building hunting for you. He’ll be damned if he were to ever leave you behind. He’ll be damned if you're hurt, and if you were he only had himself to blame. He asked you to do this mission, it was a rushed process he knew that. Yet his heart still sank, he needed to make sure you were safe. He had so many things to say to you things he wished he had said earlier. So many emotions filtered through his mind and he only could think about you. 

As if on cue, you stumbled out of the room that you and Eric were fighting in. Grabbing both hands he socked you in the side of the ribs repeatedly. You curved in on yourself in an attempt to block the punches. Eric managed to corner you between the wall and himself. Four panicked yelling at the top of his lungs from the other end of the hall “ GET OFF HER!” Four took off into a full sprint. Eric snapped his head towards four realizing that he was in fact awake and not affected by the serum. You took advantage of his distraction. You’ll definitely need to thank Four for that later. You pushed the hand away that held your wrist. Reach up and over Eric’s head you forced it down, locking it in place with your other hand. You jumped up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. You planned on putting his ass to sleep. You squeezed your arms tight, cutting off his air supply. 

Four slowed down as he neared you, Eric groaned in pain as he tried to push you off of him. He resorted to punching you in the side causing you to lose your grip. You groan in pain as your grip slips from your fingers. You dropped to the floor while Eric attempted to grab you again. Four took off in a sprint tackling Eric to the ground. You took this as a second to recover looking for anything to take him down. By now all the little Knick knack of weapons that you had on you were gone due to the fight with Eric. Four battled it out with Eric, you stumbled up searching for anything to stop Eric. Your eyes landed on a piece of round metal, you ran towards it reaching for it. You stopped in your tracks holding it in your hand, it was a smoke grenade. Your eyes snapped in the direction of Four and Eric. As they wrestled amongst each other, you waited for an opportunity for them to separate. You started off in a jog before fully running you shouted Fours name as you pulled the clip from its slot and tossed it. Both Eric and Four stopped to look at you. Eric, not having time to react, Four punched him in the face taking off in the opposite direction. You threw the grenade forcing him to collapse and cover his face while you and Four barely made it out of the room-heading for the trains.

The train had led the group to Amity, a safe haven for now though it wasn’t ideal but it was necessary. The group had jumped off the train landing in the grass near the open field. Everyone graciously landed on the grass except you. The pain you now felt in your side was immense, the adrenaline in your body slowing down allowing all the damage your body took, catching up to you all at once. You were tired, your body wanted to give out, sweat rolled down your face, you pushed yourself up, you couldn’t breathe, it seemed to become more difficult as you tried to catch your breath. You swayed for a second or two. The thing was you didn’t land incorrectly, you landed how you were taught. So why can’t you breathe? The group had walked a good distance before Four noticed your absence. He turned around and saw you standing in place, you looked so defeated, but you also looked like you were about to drop.

 Four ran over to you as he yelled your name “ Y/N?!”, your body swayed again. You knew you couldn’t stand for much longer. In that very same second your body gave out your eyes  fluttering shut. The last image was Four’s concerned face as he caught you in his arms..” Hey, Hey, keep your eyes open. You can’t sleep, Stay awake” Four checked everywhere he could possibly as he searched for wounds. You had a few cuts and bruises here and there. What captured his attention was the broken rib that perturbed out so far that it pressed into the suit you wore, the back of your head carried an injury that caused it to bleed. Damnit! It was you, he did this to you, out of all people. He cursed himself, as he lifted you up and carried you bridal style. This was the last thing he wanted and yet he was the one who asked you to do this mission to start this war. You willingly followed him, even though you told him it was a bad idea. You were always right but somehow you kept it to yourself and you never told him so, he would always find out the hard way. This time it was different, he let someone else talk him into it and you tried to stop him, to make him wait. If only he had listened. You were his best friend but in this moment you meant more to him than anything else. 

You laid in the hospital bed bandaged up asleep. Four held your hand in his as he rested his elbows on the bed, his lips resting against your hand. It had been about two days, you hadn’t woken up yet, you just continued to sleep, Four paid attention to your breathing every now and then to make sure you were in fact breathing. Four caught in a trance he hadn’t noticed Marcus walk into the room, “ I think you should eat and get some rest-” Marcus walks over to him, placing the food on the bedside of the table. Marcus placed his hand on Four’s shoulder to bring comfort to him in hopes he might take a break. “ -Tobias” Four flinches, it brings him to reality.. His name sounded wrong in his mouth, his touch burned, it wasn’t the touch he yearned for or the way his name was said by only you. Yet here you were laying in this bed, because of him. He never looked away from your face, watching you sleep, you looked so peaceful, in a way it made his heart twist. A piece of hair rested against your face in the way, one of his hands let go of yours, he reached over and pushed it out of the way. He caressed your face gently. Marcus sighed leaving the room quietly giving him the space and privacy with you. 

A memory of you filled his mind as your smile appeared, you and Four had decided it would be a good time to prank Eric by replacing his mattress with farting cushions, so that every time he rolled over it would fart. Those damn farting sounds woke up the entire unit. Your laughter filled his ears. His heart swooned again, oh how he wished he could hear it right now. He closed his eyes just long enough so that he could hear your laugh and see your smile. Though when he opened his eyes he realized that you may just be in this state for a while. A bad memory filled his mind as it flashed back to you fighting Eric in the Warehouse, you fought with purpose, and he wished he would have taken it back-

“ Well you look like shit. Stop scrunching your face like that, you’re gonna get wrinkles” Your voice hoarse as you spoke. Four opened his eyes as he looked at you. You were a sight for sore eyes, his heart swelled at the sound of your voice. He wasn’t sure if this was a dream or if it was real. You smiled at him.

Four chuckled “Oh is that so?” He questioned still lost in you.

“ Yeah” You continued to smile as you spoke softly 

“ Mmh I wonder who told you that.” He replied carrying the same volume

“ You” You watched Four hold your hand as he looked away from your face, guilt filled his chest. You had seen his mood shift and just as you were about to ask him what was wrong Tris had walked in with a tray of food. She stops in her tracts realizing that you were awake. Four straightens up in his chair. By the looks of it not only did she care to feed him but she cut her hair too, her smile not quite reaching you but directed at Four. Of course it was. Your eyes drifted between the two. Tris cleared her throat “ Um I brought you food, I know you haven’t eaten all day. Oh uh Y/n you’re up, I am so glad you are finally awake” 

You gave her a simple “mhm” as you turned slightly on your good side, kind of showing your back to her and the door. You faced the window and Four. You watched Four watch her, he was hesitant “Uh thank you Tris, you can leave it right there on the counter” He nodded towards it giving her a smile. She yet again returns it before leaving, giving him one last look. You rolled your eyes groaning in pain as you sat up slowly pushing Four out of the way. No way in hell were you planning on staying here to watch this shit happen. Four shook his head “ No you need to lay down” 

You shoved his hands away. “ Fuck it I am leaving”

“ You can’t leave Y/n” Four argued back as he tried to get you to stay on the bed. 

“ Watch me” You winced as you shoved him out of the way standing barely on your own two feet

“ Y/n come on. Don’t do this, just lay back down and get some rest”

“ No, I’m leaving, I can't stay here.”

“We need to lay low. Which is something you already know.”

“ We, please more like you and Tris with your little group you call family. I am not needed and that much is clear. What a great way to wake up”

“Is that what this is about? Tris?” He asks, watching your reaction closely, you however couldn’t find a way to answer that question without being rude. You also were tired of hiding your feelings for him. 

“ You know what so what if it is” You questioned as you tried to walk past him but it was a struggle. Four grabbed your arm holding you in place. “ Four don’t make me kick your ass”

“ What has she done to you that you hate her so much? If you hated her so much then why did you help take down Erudite-”

“ I didn't do it for her! I did it for you!” You challenged as two stared at each other. It was time to let him know even if this doesn’t go the way you’d like. 

“ What?” Four let go of your arm. 

“ I. did. it . for. You. Because I care for you more than I should. I am in love with you and I have been since I met you. You are the one person that I can’t live without. I put my feelings aside because it was the right thing to do. It was never just for her” You told him, as a tear slipped out of your cheek. You had held that in for so long that when it came out it was more powerful than it should've been. “ But what does that matter? She’s the one you want, you two can save the factions together. You don’t need me” You stated as you took a step away from Four. 

“ She’s not the one I want” Four says as he stares into you from behind. He wasn’t about to let you walk away after he almost lost you. Tris was not the person he wanted in his life as much as he wanted you in his life. You didn’t turn around, instead you chose to stay in your place. You waited. What if he was only saying that just to say. You were a sucker for him, one word, one phrase or sentence was enough to keep you here, but could you really do that to yourself? Four walked over to you turning you around to face him, He cupped your face in his hands. 

“ You are the one I want, Y/n. How can I save factions if the one person who knows me the best isn’t my partner. You have been by my side supporting me every step of the way. It wasn’t until the moment I thought I lost you that, it was you.” Four rested his forehead against yours.

 He shook his head, “ She was never you, she couldn’t be but I did have to help her. I knew what she was and that was life that needed to be saved. That doesn’t make things better but I had to help. It’s what you would’ve done”

You sighed “ Tobias-” Four couldn’t take it much longer pulling you into a kiss capturing your lips with his, the way you folded into each other was like a perfect mold. Four’s hands moved from your face sliding down your sides wrapping his arms around you. Yours wrapped around his neck, your fingers carting through his hair. You both must've been holding back from each other, as you both took the breath from each other's lungs. You both held so much passion and love that it felt as if no time had passed, the only indicator was the need for air and the pain in your ribs. You both pull away, while you wince slightly.  

“You okay?”

“ Yeah, just keep in mind the next time you do that, let me know so my ribs don’t hurt” You tell him.

“ I will be sure to warn you, but can I just say Jealous is a good look on you”

[sniper-tf2-teeth]

Gotta confess something, the person who accused your and the dear heavy tf2 tummy person of fetish farming made that post because I spoke in a space we share about how excited I was to have received your ask, and they really didn’t want me to draw it, I have anyways because I enjoy it and I know it’s practically a trend at this point, and also because I’m an independent person capable of making my own choices. So I just really wanted to say I’m sorry if that alls been causing you trouble still. Especially since that trouble is partially, and unintentionally my fault. Hope that all makes sense. I’m incredibly sorry. I loved getting your prompt :) I can only await the day I get my heavy tf2 tummy one as well

You're not responsible for that person's actions; if you werent going to tip them off, something else would have (assuming the series of events did go down how you said it did). It was only a matter of time before someone called the trend problematic anyway.

Plus it was funny to get accused of fetishfarming and harassing artists just to see all the reblogs be along the lines of"yeah that would be really bad IF IT WERE to happen" and "oh i should look out for that" and "woah is that really happening?", because that post was moreso making up a problem to get upset over and most people instinctively recognized that that wasnt happening at all. There was also a vaguepost about it that got some traction, which I admired.

Fetishfarming would be more like asking for a closeup of Sniper at the dentist, or requests for Medic preparing Heavy for surgery (implying Heavy would be shirtless). All the asks in that trend were literally based on being extremely forward and direct with what the asker wanted, the opposite of fetishfarming or artist exploitation.

Requesting art isnt harassment-- it becomes harassment if the artist has asked you to stop or has otherwise indicated that they wont partake in the trend or wont take requests and you still choose to send the request. I heard through the grapevine that some people think art requests were entitled and exploitative, which were also the arguments used for that fetishfarming post and MAYBE a much earlier and long-forgotten post about the heavy tf2 tummy anon (dont quote me, though), which is just plain wrong. Requesting art in any way isnt entitled either (unless, like said before, the artist has indicated they do not do requests). Thats what having a public art account is like. People will interact with you and get excited when you draw stuff they like, so you set boundariies. If you don't, thats on you.

The only fair point that person really had was tagging the posts, which I couldnt really do until now. Ill add that caveat to my pinned, but Im not sure how much good itll do now

Glad you liked the prompt, anon! Thank you for sending this ask, it was a good oppurtunity to address that post. I hope you get the heavy tf2 tummy ask soon <3

[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.

[transmutationisms]

sorry could you explain your chatgpt essay thing again? i get the general gist of it (who cares if they cheat) but i still cant grasp it entirely as someone who hasnt experienced the college system 💔 i had thought that essays were a foundational part of undergrad education? and so cheating on that part would essentially mean that: a) their education/understanding is "invalid" b) it discredits the work of other people in the same system/their classmates c) their future publications/written work in academia are going to be of worse quality d) in cases of people going to non academia jobs, like being a doctor or a lawyer, this would negatively impact their clients e) they have bad work ethic = will not survive job industry

my guesses are that just in general theres no direct correlation between these things but ppl assume there will be? and that if a plagiarized essay ruins everything then the system wasnt rlly that good?

the only one im rlly unsure of is the second one, but i suppose thats always been a problem with any type of academic cheating amongst peers, and will persist unless academic rankings/validation of excellence/general attitudes toward "success" r also banished. still, while i rlly dont care abt anyone i know cheating on stuff like this lol, i cant help but empathize w students struggling under that same system feeling frustrated. tho Man seeing the lack of empathy they, in turn, can have with chatgpt users. idk, is it just a lose lose situation until you get through the system?

ok sorry again and also thanks

hi, no worries. let me try to break down my position here.

i had thought that essays were a foundational part of undergrad education

i mean, this varies widely by course / degree / department. but, even when it's true, it doesn't mean that the essay is inherently a valuable or helpful exercise. undergrad essays tend to ask for one of a few very formulaic responses and ways of structuring an argument. essays also often have a specific prompt, which can be better or worse in terms of its potential to generate engagement with the course / material. often professors who are getting a lot of chatgpt essays turned in are designing essays poorly (ie, asking for the types of formulaic responses that students find unengaging and unhelpful for their own academic development), and / or failing to provide instruction and support in how to actually write an essay.

on a more fundamental level, we often take for granted that essays are and should be foundational to an undergrad education, but i simply don't think this is self-evident or always true! what are we training students to do, and why? there are certainly jobs, career paths, and academic research areas in which essay-writing is an important skill. there are others in which it's not. the assumption that all undergrads need to demonstrate the same sorts of writing skills says more about the university and what pedagogues value than it does about those students' actual chances for future career success / financial stability. if we're designing assignments that, for many students, are mere hoops to jump through, then we shouldn't be surprised that many of them find ways to make the hoop-jumping faster and easier.

so cheating on that part would essentially mean that: a) their education/understanding is "invalid"

again, what i'm trying to get at here is larger questions about what we value in education, and why. it's true that if you don't practice writing the type of essay the academy demands of you, you won't learn that skill. but, why do we assume that skill is useful, valuable, or necessary in the first place? how many people actually need to write that way outside of undergrad classrooms? even for those who are intending to pursue a career in academia, the writing taught in undergrad should be, at best, a stepping-stone on the path to more effective and interesting means of written communication. once again, if the skill being mandated by the university is not useful for students, it should not be surprising that many of them resent having to demonstrate it, and turn to tools like chatgpt instead.

b) it discredits the work of other people in the same system/their classmates

this is an argument that many educators make, and i wholeheartedly disagree with it! first of all, i simply do not believe that student a's academic performance is relevant to the assessment of student b's. if a professor is grading that way, that's terrible grading and a terrible pedagogical philosophy. if a student has learned something from their coursework, that shouldn't be undercut or devalued by anything that their classmates have or haven't done.

what this type of argument points to on a deeper level is the fact that university degrees have acquired a sort of double meaning. although the university likes to propagate high-minded rhetoric about the intrinsic value of education, the degree granted is a class barrier that serves to allow certain people access to certain (usually promised to be higher-paying) jobs, and bar others from these jobs. this is a large part of what i'm talking about when i say that the university serves to perpetuate and enforce class stratification. and their narrative about degrees being markers of individual merit and achievement is undercut by the fact that they also plainly fear losing prestige status by granting degrees to those students considered 'unworthy'. if you can make it through an undergrad education without learning the skills the university purports to teach, that's a pretty massive indictment of the university—which, remember, is collecting a lot of tuition money for these degrees.

c) their future publications/written work in academia are going to be of worse quality

lots of assumptions baked in here—that undergrad essay-writing teaches 'good' (effective / clear) writing; that many academics don't already write poorly by these metrics; that aspiring academics have no other way of learning written communication skills (eg, outside of the academy, or in grad school).

d) in cases of people going to non academia jobs, like being a doctor or a lawyer, this would negatively impact their clients

firstly, i would again point out that in many non-academic jobs, academic writing is simply not a necessary skill; secondly, in both of the examples you cite here, these are people who need to go through a lot more schooling and training after undergrad, where they pick up what written communication skills they actually do need (eg, legal writing looks nothing like standard undergrad essay-writing anyway); thirdly, MANY people getting an undergraduate degree are intending to pursue jobs for which they need neither undergrad essay-writing skills, nor further higher education—there are so many reasons a person might want / need a college degree, and so many careers in which this specific academic skillset is simply not relevant for them.

e) they have bad work ethic = will not survive job industry

again, i think this is making some pretty big unstated assumptions! in general i don't really think that 'work ethic' (or the related 'laziness') is a useful way to try to evaluate people's behaviour, and this is a good example of one way in which it fails. if, like i said, we are dealing with a system in which people are told they need to receive a degree in order to have access to jobs they want and financial stability they need; and in which many of them are being forced to demonstrate a specific writing skill they may never need again and may have no interest in; and in which they are often not even receiving adequate training and help to learn and demonstrate that skill, even if they do want to; and in which they may be working other jobs, caring for family members, dealing with disabilities the institution does not provide support for, or any number of other life circumstances that make schoolwork difficult at best to complete; and in which a tool exists that may be able to help them complete some of this work freely and quickly... like, i simply do not fault students for using that tool!

there are so many points of failure in this system long before we get to this moment: the increasing pressure to get a college degree in the first place; the poorly designed curricula that prioritise skills considered 'standard' (for whom? why?) over skills that students actually need or want to acquire; professors who don't actually teach students how to write, yet expect them to turn in essay assignments anyway; specific essay assignments that are uninteresting and / or unhelpful to students; lack of support for students who are struggling with their workload or assignments in any number of ways (and no, 'come to office hours' is not adequate support for so many students and situations).

i simply do not care about people 'cheating' a system that is so fundamentally broken and unjust. it doesn't matter. the ability to write an undergrad essay is such an incredibly trivial and specific skill, and one that most people simply do not need. it doesn't make a person generally 'smarter' (fake concept) and certainly does not make them any more competent at the vast majority of jobs, careers, or general life skills. even for those very few who do need to know this specific thing, i reject the assumption that the university is the only way to learn it, or even a particularly effective way. once again, if chatgpt is successfully completing assignments, maybe those assignments weren't very good in the first place! and even the theoretical amazing professor is simply not able to counter all of the structural issues and inequities in the university system that produce students' desire to turn to tools like chatgpt in the first place. the textbot itself is simply not the issue here.

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 217

Adjective: Earthy

Noun: Lung

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Earthy: resembling or suggestive of earth or soil; (of a person or their language) direct and uninhibited, especially about sexual subjects or bodily functions

Lung: each of the pair of organs situated within the rib cage, consisting of elastic sacs with branching passages into which air is drawn, so that oxygen can pass into the blood and carbon dioxide be removed, and lungs are characteristic of vertebrates other than fish, though similar structures are present in some other animal groups; an open space in a town or city, where people can breathe fresher air

[reedsofintimacy]

Damn for having so much personal advice and opinion to give, and being, yknow, theoretically, *confident dominant types* you all sure are shy and convinced on not letting me know who you are. I guess that's fine but also I'm not posting it and I would never really trust advice via an anon. Sorry. Teehee 🤭

But tbh it really has been my experience that nearly all women are truly submissives. Including self professed "dommes". I think many are submissive women who find the idea of a submissive man being dommed by a woman sexy. Like to watch in porn or imagine.

But they don't actually want to be the woman doing the dominating. Its just a sexy idea. Actually being that role is deeply uncomfortable to them, they dont enjoy it, they arent wired for it, and it isnt their personality. They're submissives who happen to also find submissive men cute. Which is fine, but, is not a domme any more than finding a puppy at the park cute makes you an animal whisperer.

"Uh i wanna domme u but also im turbo nervous and shy and hate leading conversations and dont want to pick what we do in bed and it would be great if you could do all the things a functionally dominant person would do except i call you "good boy" while you do it." Mmmk. Im good thanks. "No but like even though youre like choosing everything and in total superior position by all metrics, the activity is giving me head so that makes it dominating you". Sure.

Having been a daddy dom of convenience for a long time before finally embracing that it just isnt what i enjoy most, i have hard carried sooooo so so so so many conversations over the years with submissive women who I knew wanted to talk with me but were just wholly incapable of even half guiding a conversation. They needed their partner to always being the one picking the topic. I ask a question, she just answers it. I find another topic, she passes back. Which was fine, i was the dominant and when i really was interested in someone I put in the work.

But the amount of *dominant* women I have had contacting me who feel *exactly* the same to talk to is astounding. Im sure youre all great people but i sooooo do not have the energy or drive or desire to simultaneously be in subby space and also the one clearly dominating this conversation and in total control. Thats the opposite of what I want in a domme.

I want to be responsive. Reactionary. The one being led by the dance. Putting effort into my steps, sure 100%, but not choosing their direction. Not dictating the tempo. Not selecting the music. The sensation that the person on the other end *actually halfway knows what they might want* and is going to communicate that without me having to prompt and pry it out of them and being left feeling like I'm clearly the boss. I swear. Im not a brat. Im not trying to be alpha. But somebody has to drive this vehicle or itll explode; and in a complete power vaccuum theres just nothing i can do to stop myself from expanding to fill it its just physics at that point. And im just not really into it rn.

Anyways rant over 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 lalalalalalalaalalalalalala

New writing should be coming soon!!!! Ive just been busy with restarting some classes and another thing so I hope everyone enjoys <3 submissive women always welcome on my acc. Just dont try to domme me. Because i can tell. Immediately.

[natasha-in-space]

I got a yoosung angst prompt cuz its fun to put the most sunshine guy through the worst traumas

How do you think his relationship will mc be post Bad Ending 3. Yeah its the ending where Unknown kidnaps and tortures him. Lets assume that he eventually got rescued and nearly died in the process (cuz Unknown badly hurt him in a fit of rage) but he survives....he lives

But whats gonna be after that how the whole ordeal is gonna affect his relationship with his S/O because it is going to be tough for both the parties. Ofc yoosung who was directly affected by the ordeal will need alot of therapy, and love and support. But it was quite tough for mc too.... if anything yoosung route does, it shows us the fact that losing a loved one is traumatic, nearly losing one too as well and MC also was traumatised and is guilt ridden (maybe i should have tried harder to stop him had i knew this would happen is a constant thought in her head) she also becomes somewhat protective of him because he has been through enough and deserves to get the best of the world.....but while mc is well intentioned in her actions....it somehow stings Yoosung, he is the one who should be protecting her, he should be the proactive one in the relationship....thats what he thinks. It makes him feel small....besides he can also see her running herself thin for him....and he just wants to not be a burden to her...

I rambled alot im sorry but i wanna see your take. As always i just wanna let you know I love your writing

Well, the unfortunate thing that I just can't help but bring up is that... Bad Ending 3 happens due to the player's (MC's) actions. That's not how it works in real life, of course, but with the structure of MM's storyline, that's how it plays out, and that's how it's meant to be interpreted by the player. In that ending, MC prioritizes themselves first, and encourages Yoosung self-sacrificial tendencies for their own benefit (or, well, safety, to be more exact). MC's actions are what led Yoosung to sacrifice himself in that ending in the first place. And that's also the reason behind his seeming resolve with what Unknown is putting him through in the aftermath.

'It's okay. I'm protecting them. They wanted me to keep them safe. So they wouldn't be scared. I need to stay strong for them. I'm doing this for them. Because I love them. Because I don't want to be in the dark and not do anything like it happened with Rika.'

So both sides of the argument are dealing with a messy tangle of emotions to deal with. And if you do want to imagine a better resolution to all of this, it'll probably involve a lot of conversations between the two.

Your dynamic between each other is unbalanced in that particular ending. And that's something that needs to be fixed. MC should take more care of Yoosung's well-being first before their own and believe in him, while Yoosung needs to work on his anxious attachment style.

It is difficult, though, because Yoosung's worst traits got the best of him as a direct result of MC's actions. The situation is pretty similar to those who want to imagine a better solution to Jumin's 2 Bad Ending. While it's possible, it needs to be acknowledged that MC is the one who needs to put most of the work in.

In my opinion, what would their relationship be like? Well, if we assume that MC does feel guilty for everything that happened, that's a lot of emotional baggage to deal with. Yoosung got hurt. Bad. Both physically and mentally. And he'll probably dismiss it too. It's important to remember that in this particular ending, he's devoted to you to an unhealthy extent. Not the same as in his 1 Bad Ending, but in a very self-sacrificial way. He'll probably just smile at you and say that he's happy you're safe. That that was the only thing he ever wanted. And that he held out for so long because he remembered what you told him, and how scared you were.

So... it's a pretty heavy situation for MC to be in. It's one thing to have your loved one disregard their well-being for you, but it's completely different when it's the direct consequence of your own actions.

Many apologies need to be made. Even if Yoosung doesn't understand why you're apologizing to him. Lots of talks to be had. And lots of very slow and steady progress to be made.

It's possible to come up with a better resolution to this mess. But it'll require a lot of work and patience from both MC and Yoosung. It does make a very interesting story to think about, though!

[the-xolotl]

hiiiii i love ur work i just waned to ask if u could do like a human to demon alastor x murdered reader thing cuz like i just would love that! like here i can help,(kinda sorry for the miss spelling)

so she could be like murdered by al cuz like he had told her that he was a murderer and like she acts calme butt like alastor sees that but says nothing and readers like "here ill go clean the dishes" or something like that and she go's but really when to call the police and befor they could alastor finds them and is like "oh no Darling" and he like kisses and hangs up the phone. and u can pick what happens next u can pick if they die or live or even if the do the devils tango

(im old enough don't worry)

i hope u pick this one and if u do i hope u have fun and if not thats ok! i still love ur content! thx byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

hello~ “i’m old enough” doesn’t really count 😭 unless you have your age in your bio i don’t think i’ll be picking this idea up. besides, at the moment i’m not taking direct requests, only suggested prompts <3

[whats-it-mean]

Yo bestie I feel silly asking over Tumblr instead of text but it felt right to do it here so 💀

Anyways please could you write anything for Haruka Sakurai please I'm desperate and crave content for him of course if not that's fine

A late pocky day in milgram! ☆

Haruka Sakurai x Reader

A/N - NO UR GOOD i love haruka too as you know so im happy to write for him. i decided to go for a (LATE) pocky day prompt bc i missed it lmao, but there are some mentions of my own milgram ships, so i hope thats fine?? the one mentioned is 0309 because i think theyre cute <333 also mahiru would totally play matchmaker for all the other prisoners. prove me wrong i dare you

C/W - 0309  mentioned/suggested 0309

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Upon first hearing of it from Mahiru, unsurprisingly, Haruka had no idea what pocky was. He tilted his head towards the girl, mumbling out a ‘hm?’ as she rambled on about how romantic it was. It was no surprise that even in prison Mahiru would care about such things, since on valentines she had somehow roped everyone into baking cookies, but it seemed to fly directly over Haruka’s head as he listened.

“...? I- I’m confused.. So you just.. Eat the candy…..?” He asked, gently tapping his chin. “How is that a game..?” You could hear a slight snicker come from a certain red-haired boy in the other corner of the room, followed swiftly by an elbow to his stomach coming from Yuno.

Mahiru giggled. “It’s like a challenge- two people eat it at the same time.” She pulled a piece of the candy out of the box she had been fiddling with this whole time as she spoke, twirling it between her fingers before holding it out as example. “Whoever breaks off first loses. Cute, is it not?”

Haruka glanced up at the Pocky in her hand, confusion still evident in his eyes. “But.. what if nobody breaks off…?”

You should have known it would come to this.

Mahiru grinned, and from the corner of your eye you could see Shidou shaking his head slightly as she smiled at the poor boy. “Then they kiss~!” Mahiru’s cheery voice spoke, despite the way Haruka flushed red, turning to hide his face in his hands, face practically steaming.

“O- Oh…” He mumbled, voice muffled by the way he covered it with his hands. He tried desperately to look away, his ears and neck now turning pink in addition to his entire face. Mahiru smiled at him, patting his head when he tried to curl up into a ball and chuckling at his attitude towards the topic.

“Now, since Es didn’t tell us when it was Pocky day a little bit ago-” Es scoffed from the corner, rolling his eyes at Mahiru’s accusing tone. “We’re celebrating late. But celebrating is still celebrating~!”

Fuuta rolled his eyes from the corner where he sat. “And how exactly are we planning on celebrating?”

“Well- Not everyone can really participate, since Amane is a bit too young… But you should all pair up and play at least once, right? We rarely get to do fun things like that here, and it’ll be so exciting-!”

“No way I’m playing this bullshit game.” The boy huffed, standing up without a moment to waste and turning to leave, but let out a yelp when someone grabbed his pantleg, and Mikoto dragged him right back onto the floor, and next to him.

“Sounds good, Mappi-chan!” He hummed, completely ignoring the continued protests from Fuuta who was now being forcefully held against the brown-haired individual.

Mahiru let out another one of her signature giggles before turning to you, flashing you a grin. “You should pair up with Haruka here!” She patted the boy’s head, ruffling his hair slightly as he glanced desperately upwards at you from where his head sat, currently in his arms as he huddled around his knees.

“U- Um- I’m not--”

Mahiru grinned at the both of you, giving you a slight push towards the boy before placing a box of strawberry Pocky in your hands. “Have fun!!” She bounced off in another direction, probably to tease Fuuta and Mikoto a bit, before you glanced back at Haruka, to which he let out a little squeak.

You sighed, incing a bit closer to him so that you could pat his head, to which he immediately leaned into your touch. “Sorry about her… We don’t have to--”

Haruka’s voice was impossibly quiet and timid, but he spoke so quickly you could barely finish your sentence. “....B- But-... I want to.”

You paused. “You do!?”

He nodded his head shakily, partially obstructed face glowing with a rosy blush as he let out an embarrassed breath , cheeks burning with shame. “S- Sorry- I just-” He trailed off, letting out a sound somewhere between a squeak and the sort of whine you would bear from a kicked puppy as he buried his face further into his crossed arms.

“.....Don’t be sorry, I just- Didn’t expect that. Like. At all. But- It’s fine if you want to, I guess-...?”

Haruka snapped his head upwards, hair disheveled from trying hopelessly hide himself from Mahiru as he looked at you with wide eyes. “R- Really?”

“...I’d be happy to.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── End

[sophieinwonderland]

im confused about personal plurality, feel free to ignore. for a while now ive wanted imaginary friends (although they are all characters in media) out of- i guess- lonliness? not the best reason, i know, but its lead me down a rabbit hole of researching plurality and whatnot. i know i dont have alters or switches or anything, if i try to call out unprompted i get no response. for some reason im so fixated and almost really wishing i had alters to talk to and experience things with, but i dont. the closest i can get to that is imaginary friends, but they feel puppeted, for lack of better words, and arent autonomous. i really want to make myself belief they are, and in a way i think they want to as well, but i have a feeling thats my brain telling me that, aka not an indication of anything.

if talking about my experiences help at all, for a while i went through a process of mimicking systems, aka having the imaginary friends speak to me in thoughts, but it was all voluntary and scripted. a while later i tried a different method of mentally visualizing these imaginary friends in the same room as me, and sometimes theyd "share" my body, and id pretty much only be the one in control, and theyd just talk to me. again, its not switching or anything, i dont have sudden memory gaps, although my memory of stuff is consistently foggy, ranging from earlier that day to multiple years ago- kinda maybe about a 35% chance ill forget something every time, and the number climbs the longer its been.

with the imaginary friends themselves, its a rough explaination. again, they come from any fictional media i fixate on, but my fixations change nearly weekly, so its never consistent with who it is. i am a copinglinker who links witb these fixations as well, so its a 50/50 of if i want to personally identify as the character, or if they are an imaginary friend. again, conversation is prompted and feels very short, because i think in the back of my mind i know im directing the entire conversation, instead of talking to a seperate person. i want to believe so bad the conversations and opinions are real, but i dont think they are. whenever i ask them if they think theyre autonomous, its either "i dont know" to "yeah, why?" but i feel those answers are fabricated to. i dont know, maybe i just sort through thoughts through characters.

sorry, im rambling. i dont know if this is the right place to go, ans im genuinely hoping none of this is offensive. again, im 99.9% sure im not plural, but i feel /something/ in the back of my mind if i focus hard enough, but then again, it might be confirmation bias or something, i donr know.

if you have any thoughts or advice, please share. this has been plaguing me for nearly a year now and im not sure what to do with the information or how to interpret it. thank you.

Are your imaginary friends actually puppeted, or do they just feel puppeted? Because these aren't the same things.

In tulpamancy, there exists what's known as parroting, where you consciously talk for your tulpa and control their speech. Conversely, there's parrotnoia. This is the fear that you're controlling your headmate even when you aren't.

But if you aren't consciously doing it, it's not parroting.

If you haven't yet, you should check out my article on how to know if your imaginary friend is sentient:

I'll also add that switches feel differently for different systems. For us, it's often like something external is entering the body. But to some systems, it can feel like you're becoming somebody else.

Switching also doesn't usually have amnesia unless you have DID. (Although, if you do have DID, it can be hard to recognize if you have amnesia because... you know... you forget. But don't worry about that right now.)

But it's also normal for some systems to only partially switch, co-front, or just be co-conscious.

If you want them to be more real and developed though, I'd recommend sticking with a few over time. Cycling between proto-headmates every couple weeks means none will get the full development they deserve.