#that said this is the only one of these that exists so if you somehow see someone wearing this it will acctually be me probably

[yanderelovebites]

Back with batsis stuff and kinda wanna do the whole isekai thing. Have reader meet their end somehow and wake up in a fanfic that was never finished of a neglected batsis. Have them wake up at the incident that made them get sent over to Bruce.

Have the original girl’s memories and knowing already they didn’t like her, didn’t want her, etc. she decided to just live for herself and future. Girlie went with her father who gave her that initial attention but after that she was taken to her room. She’s six. Have her give that grieving period of two weeks where she just got used to the room and the manor before she started asking for things. It’ll be probably one form of martial arts and later on probably also either music or dance. When she isn’t doing either of those things she sketching in her book and she’s actually really good.

Have her be closest with Alfred but still keep a certain wall up against him just like the others. Have her be a few months older than Damian and Damian isn’t quite in the picture yet. She ignores when the others are in the house despite being a part of said home. She only looks for her father for school needs and while still keeping her distance will set birth cards and Father’s Day cards on his desk in the study. She never hands them to him so she doesn’t know what he does with them nor does she care.

If the character she is reborn as is meant to be neglected, why should she bother trying to reach out?

She eventually had no choice but to meet Jason because he was there… they didn’t know how to explain to her why red hood is there. She simply said “Hello, I would chat but I have Jujitsu in 20 so I have to leave. Nice meeting you.” It was concerning how she brushed it off. Of course she realizes after ‘oh none of them would know I know… nah I’ll just continue on. Who knows, it might bother them!’

By the time Damian gets there, she’s been through karate, jujitsu, and only a year of Taekwondo while also taking dancing/music lessons. She has won art competitions but only Alfred has ever seen or heard. Bruce may have heard but he barely listened to the announcement of it. He knows from a portrait she was forced to sit for with Bruce, Tim, and Dick, she exists. Yet, it takes a week for him to ever see her.

He asks questions like in the original, but what batsis reader doesn’t understand is she changed how Damian sees her since she wasn’t immediately clingy to anyone. Dick TRIES to remember anything and realizes he doesn’t really know her. Tim can’t really tell him anything either other than medical records in case anything happens. Literally all Tim gave Damian was that Damian and batsis have the say blood type. They realize they really don’t know batsis which does unnerve them. All they can say is she stays to herself. That both irritates Damian and intrigued him. He tries Alfred next who is able to at least tell him what she does routinely at least. How she’s been in martial arts after her first two weeks living here, implied she was grieving, and she’s also been in music/dance lessons as well. Also explains she enjoys participating in art contests. He goes on about her being an A+ student and explains she doesn’t interact much with the rest of the family. He even says “To be honest, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one she talks to in any capacity that isn’t out of necessity.”

Jason pretty much only knew about one of the martial arts being jujitsu. He explains she didn’t seem phased that red hood had entered her home and that she didn’t know about the Batman secret.

He doesn’t immediately approach her either. He doesn’t have all the information he needs. All he knows is she’s his half sibling, her usual activities, at least one of the forms of martial arts she knows, and that otherwise she’s a bit of a mystery. Eventually they’re forced to eat at a family dinner together. Since it really bothered Dick that he didn’t know anything he starts asking her about school. No one ever asked her questions, half the time they act like she isn’t there, so she’s confused, but politely says it’s been fine. Talks briefly about her classes, the mention of what classes she’s currently taking makes Tim and Dick shocked. For Tim it’s simply the fact that *she* was taking them and for Dick it’s the fact someone her age was taking such advance classes. Tim coughed and asked her what she did after school on Friday, mostly to hear anything else and she’s like “Oh just another art competition. I placed first with my painting.” She says and continues eating.

Bruce honestly is trying to process what he heard and saw and Damian treats it as a way to analyze her. The way she eats, the way she talks, her posture, and of course the tiny bits the boys were getting out. She then says “I’m sure Alfred has already told you about that, however, right father?” He coughs for a moment and nods as to hide the fact he himself has been caught off guard. For Damian she isn’t like a role model for what he’s grown up with, it’s more she’s a role model for what a Wayne is. She’s perfect in all things you’d expect the public to see a Wayne for. Knows arts, has some martial arts background, and has a certain air of modesty yet wealthy around her.

This attention to her is still brief at this time for Tim, Dick, and Bruce. They ask if she’s met Damian and she says “Not really, at best some glances. I’m always moving after all.” That dinner felt awkward, but Damian decided she wasn’t Particularly a threat…

And by all things holy it annoys the crap out of Tim. He actually tries to speak to her—which she is cautious at first because she knows what he did to the original Batsis. Instead of drawing his sword on her, he asked about her martial arts since that’s really all he can… talk about with her… and the part that annoys Tim on it… is simply he won’t shut up about her-

And he thought when Damian called himself the blood son was annoying! Now it’s ’blood sibling’ this and that if bringing her up in conversation occurs. It’s clear he respects her in such annoying ways.

I just imagine the Yandere Batfam doesn’t all happen at once. It starts with Damian. You don’t see it at first because you blame his upbringing. He’s stuck to your side during banquets as much as he despises them. He mirrors some of your ‘mask’ etiquette in that all the Wayne’s have an image. You kept yours on as rock solid as possible, you are not the same person. He can tell you must have some inspiration from your father as yours is a rather innocent persona. You act like a social butterfly amongst the people and seem so damn sweet. He just doesn’t like how many eyes are on you. You acted like you couldn’t feel it, but it’s hard to ignore Damian. In fact, it accidentally wentinti his persona as people saw him as a clingy little brother to his slightly older sister. That it just made ‘sense’ since you two are so close in age.

Damian would just get worse as time went on. It’s get to the point you realize he isn’t faking or anything he actually just likes you. Then you get kidnapped.

I imagine no one but Alfred and Damian realize something is wrong. He’s the reason they find you and he nearly kills the guy who kidnapped you. Of course it’s not like you just let them take you, there was evidence even before they were brought to an inch of their life. You hadn’t made it easy and they could tell you had injured them beforehand. However they had broken your legs and that’s when I’d get worse for Damian and start in Bruce.

I might add more thoughts later I dunno it’s kind of an idea dump

[heejamas]

nicest guy: 14. between two wolves

word count: ~2k words + 9 screenshots

warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, jake and hoon hate each other

“You seem kinda off,” Giselle said, glancing at you from the driver’s seat as you sat there, trying not to spiral. She was driving you to Heeseung’s place, and Sunoo was chilling in the backseat, earbuds in, acting like he wasn’t silently judging the entire situation.

Sunoo was your best friend, which meant he already knew exactly what was going on inside your head. You were on your way to some low-key hangout at this football player’s apartment—who, by the way, was tight with the quarterback that every girl on campus wanted to hook up with: Jake. Oh, and let’s not forget the small detail that Jake had a massive crush on you. Also? The last time you saw him, you ended up sleeping in the same bed as him because he was so wasted he practically passed out mid-sentence. Oh, and did I mention the cops showed up that night? Yeah, that too.

And now, here you were, dragging yourself to this thing. The second time in your entire college existence that you decided to stop being a hermit and actually hang out with people. So, were you feeling weird? Uh, yeah. You were full-on panicking.

“I’m not off. I’m super on,” you said, trying (and failing) to convince your friends.

“Come on, Y/N,” Sunoo finally cut in, pulling out one earbud. “Let’s not pretend you’re not freaking out because you’re seeing Jake.”

“It’s not because of that, and you know it,” you shot back, turning to glare at him. “I just wanted Jungwon to come with us. I’d feel way more comfortable. He knows most of the people at this… party or whatever.”

“It’s not a party, babe,” Giselle said, shooting you a quick grin. “And relax. Jungwon’s coming later with Sunghoon.”

You gulped. And there it was—the real reason for your anxiety. Sunghoon. Your brother’s best friend. Sunghoon, who you’d somehow developed a crush on in the last week. And yeah, he was going to be there too. But the kicker? You were only going to this get-together because Jake invited you. Jake, who had some weird beef with Sunghoon for reasons no one wanted to explain to you.

Sunoo knew, though. That’s why he reached over from the backseat and tapped your shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Slut era, remember?”

“Maybe I liked my vamp era better,” you muttered. Sunoo and Giselle burst out laughing while she parked her car outside Heeseung's condo. You all made your way down the dim hallway, stopping in front of Heeseung’s apartment door. You took a deep breath as Sunoo reached out to ring the doorbell.

It barely took a second before Jake swung the door open, his puppy-dog eyes lighting up like he’d been waiting there all night. If he were an actual dog, his tail would be wagging so hard it’d knock something over.

“You came!” Jake said, his gaze locking onto you like you were the only person in the room. For a moment, it was just you and him, his smile stretching from ear to ear. Then, almost like he remembered there were other people present, he broke the spell, nodding at Sunoo and Giselle with a quick, “Hey, guys,” to make it look like he wasn’t completely obvious.

“Come on in,” Jake added, stepping aside to let you and your friends walk in.

The apartment was exactly what you’d expect from a college football player who was also a certified nerd. The walls were painted a dark gray, making the space feel a little moody, but the posters—classic Pokémon artwork, a few Marvel movie posters, and one suspiciously artsy shot of Pikachu—gave it some personality. Heeseung's personality, you guess.

There were about ten people at Heeseung’s place. You didn’t know most of their names—just vague faces you recognized from the football team. The only person you actually knew, besides Jake and Heeseung, was Niki, your brother’s goofy friend.

Jake introduced you to everyone like he was showing off his shiny new girlfriend, and the way they all glanced at each other only made it more obvious. The only problem was that you barely knew the guy.

Still, you found yourself enjoying their banter. Heeseung was going off about how his phone keyboard was stuck in Greek, which turned out to be a prank by Niki. It totally checked out—your brother and Niki were equally chaotic. Beomgyu was loud but hilariously so, cracking jokes that had you laughing way too hard. Soobin, on the other hand, was chill and introverted, kind of like you. They weren’t at all like the stereotypical football team jerks you’d imagined. They were actually… nice.

And then there was Jake. He was glued to you all night, constantly checking in to make sure you were comfortable. You had to admit, he was fun to be around. What really got to you, though, was how much effort he put into including your friends. That meant everything to you—your friends were your world, and anyone who cared about them instantly earned points.

As more people trickled into the hangout, Jake made it his mission to introduce you to every single one of them. It was kind of sweet how hard he was trying.

“What about we play Uno?” Beomgyu shouted, already hyped.

Everyone agreed, though Heeseung immediately groaned. “You’re so annoying when we play Uno. Please don’t cheat this time!”

“Bro, relax,” Beomgyu shot back, grinning. “If you lose, just blame it on your Greek cards.”

The whole room burst out laughing as Heeseung flipped him off, and they all started gathering around the table to play.

“You wanna join?” Jake asked, turning to you. He was being the perfect gentleman, always checking if you were okay. At first, you’d thought he was kind of a loser, but now… well, the banter between you two was growing on you.

“Actually, I think I’m good,” you replied, smiling. Uno with five people? Fun. Uno with fourteen? A chaotic nightmare.

You were both sitting at Heeseung’s couch, he was not too close to you, but close enough for him to speak in a low tone. Jake leaned in slightly, his voice low but still casual. “We could go outside if you want. The balcony’s got a great view. Plus… we could smoke a joint. You down?”

“Why not?” you said with a small shrug, playing it cool.

Truth was, you weren’t a huge weed person—your brother was, so you’d picked up the basics by association. But the idea of being alone with Jake, on a random balcony, in the middle of this chaotic hangout? That wasn’t something you’d ever pictured in your social life bingo. And honestly? You were kind of into it.

You and Jake stepped out into the hallway, leaning against the balcony railing, taking in the view. You’d had two, maybe three beers. Jake? Probably a few more. He casually pulled a pre-rolled out of his pocket, lit it with practiced ease, and passed it to you without a word. You took a slow drag, letting the smoke linger before glancing at him. He was standing right beside you, watching you intently, like you were the most interesting thing he’d seen all night.

“What?” you asked, holding in the smoke as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Didn’t think you smoked,” he admitted, his voice soft and a little shy. He was clearly trying to be flirtatious, but the way he kept stealing glances made it obvious he was just happy to be this close to you.

“I don’t. My brother does, so I join him sometimes.” You replied casually after exhaling. “Were you thinking about me, though?” You shot him a sly grin, the kind that had Jake blinking like you’d just flipped his world upside down.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice a little more serious than usual, his eyes wide with surprise.

“You said you didn’t think I smoked,” you teased, turning fully towards him and passing the joint back. “So… were you thinking about me?”

You blew out the smoke slowly, letting it drift between the two of you. You were a convicted introvert, but you weren’t shy—not even a little. And that seemed to catch Jake completely off guard.

“I was just…” He paused, clearly struggling to string together a sentence. “Maybe I did think about… you.”

He stopped mid-thought, though, his gaze shifting behind you.

A tall figure was walking down the hallway toward Heeseung’s apartment. Sunghoon. And of course, Jungwon was with him.

Jake’s expression faltered for a split second, frustration flickering in his eyes. Why now? He’d just been getting somewhere with you, and now he had to show up.

As Sunghoon got closer, his eyes briefly flicked between you and Jake. His expression didn’t give much away, but the energy? Oh, it was crystal clear.

Jake needed to get out of your orbit—and fast.

“Yoi!” Jungwon greeted, walking up to you and Jake with his usual energy. “You guys smoking? I’m in!” He slid in right next to you, already reaching for the joint. You shot him a look, silently asking if he really had to interrupt right now. But then your eyes shifted, catching sight of someone else. Sunghoon.

And damn, he looked good.

It was the first time you’d seen him since that party, the one where you decided to let yourself fall into the pit of an unreciprocated crush on your brother’s best friend. He stood there, glancing between you and Jake, his expression unreadable but focused.

You tried to play it cool, but your thoughts were a mess. Sunghoon didn’t seem to care about you the way you’d hoped—so why did he look like someone had just told him he lost ten grand?

You couldn’t help but second-guess everything. Since you realized that probably Sunghoon didn’t give a shit about you, you thought that maybe it was for the better giving Jake a chance. But then, Sunghoon’s eyes lingered on you a moment too long, and suddenly, giving Jake a chance felt a lot harder to commit to.

“Hey,” Sunghoon greeted, his voice quiet but steady. His gaze met yours briefly before shifting to Jake.

“Hey,” you replied, trying not to let your voice betray you. Jake, on the other hand, only nodded.

You weren’t surprised. You’d already figured out they didn’t get along, and now you were smack in the middle of their passive-aggressive standoff. Jungwon, sensing the tension immediately, decided to act.

“You know what? We’re heading inside. I’ll be back later,” Jungwon said, spinning on his heels and steering Sunghoon toward the door with a hand on his shoulder.

Sunghoon hesitated, though. His gaze lingered on you and Jake for a moment longer, clearly debating whether to stay. His jaw tightened slightly. “I think I’ll take a puff,” he said, his voice low but firm. It was a far cry from the Sunghoon you’d seen at that party, where he’d been loose and carefree. Sober Sunghoon had a serious edge to him, and it was kind of intimidating.

Jake’s reaction was instant. His posture stiffened, and his jaw tightened ever so slightly, though he quickly tried to cover it up. He couldn’t let you see him lose his cool—not now. Not with Sunghoon standing there like he owned the place.

Jake’s mind raced, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Sunghoon always had this way of showing up and ruining everything. It was like Wonyoung situation all over again. In Jake’s head, Sunghoon wasn’t just a rival—he was a thief.

But Jake knew better than to let you see his irritation. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t blow this, so he plastered on his best fake smile and shifted his tone.

“Sure, man,” Jake said, holding out the joint with forced politeness. “Go ahead.”

You didn’t miss the tension in his voice, but you appreciated the effort. Jake, for all his flaws, was trying. Even if his “nice guy” act was so obviously fake it was almost funny.

Even Sunghoon looked taken aback. Jake—his nemesis—being friendly? That could only mean one thing: he was putting on a show. And for you, obviously. Sunghoon wasn’t about to let Jake one-up him. If Jake wanted to act nice, Sunghoon would be the nicest guy you’d ever met.

“So, is it too crowded inside?” Sunghoon asked casually, taking a hit off the joint and turning to admire the view behind you. At this point, you were literally standing between them, caught in what felt like a testosterone-fueled showdown. You couldn’t help but wonder how your life had gotten to this point—two guys you might be into, silently battling it out in front of you.

“Not really,” you replied, trying to keep the mood light. “There’s about, what, 14 or 15 people inside?” You glanced at Jake, hoping for some confirmation.

“Yeah,” Jake muttered, keeping it short. He was laser-focused on not letting Sunghoon win this unspoken competition. Jake knew exactly what Sunghoon was doing, and it only fueled his determination. He knew that this was a game, and he couldn’t fumble. Which was ironic, because Sunghoon and Jake played for the same football team. But with you? It was a battlefield.

The silence that followed felt heavy. You and Sunghoon didn’t mind quiet moments, but Jake? Jake was like a restless golden retriever—he needed to fill the void. Otherwise, he’d explode. So, naturally, he reached for the joint the second Sunghoon was done with it, deciding to finish it himself.

“We should save some for your brother,” Jake said suddenly, his tone overly casual. “He was excited about this. I’ll invite him out later to smoke one with me.” With that, Jake gently guided you back toward Heeseung’s apartment, his hand lingering on your shoulder just long enough to make a point.

Sunghoon watched the interaction, and it hit him in the gut. The sight of Jake touching you? That wasn’t in his “I don’t care” playbook.

Which was funny, because Sunghoon couldn’t like you. It was an unspoken rule—Jungwon would absolutely lose it if his best friend had feelings for his sister. That’s why Sunghoon told himself he didn’t. He didn’t like you; he just hated that Jake was around you. Yeah, that was it.

Or at least, that’s what Sunghoon kept telling himself to feel better.

The next moments at Heeseung’s apartment played out like this: everywhere you went, Jake and Sunghoon were right there, trailing behind you like overly attentive shadows. Both of them were being way too nice for your liking, and honestly it was starting to get on your nerves. You felt like a lamb stuck between two wolves, both of them silently battling for your attention.

Annoying? Absolutely. But you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a tiny part of you that was kind of enjoying it. Guilty pleasure much?

Still, it was getting to be too much. You needed an escape plan, and there was only one person you could turn to: your ever-reliable confidant, Sunoo.

When Jake and Sunghoon got momentarily distracted—probably by glaring at each other—you seized the opportunity to bolt. Ducking into the bathroom, you locked the door, leaned against it for good measure, and pulled out your phone and fired off a text to your best friend.

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author's note: literally me when i wrote "nicest guy":

taglist: @jayparked @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate @kixri @soobnuuy @dreamiestay @somuchdard @nyyoryyu @atinyrosedoor @enhaverse713586 @miszes @wildtigerlili @hoonkishoe @wilonevys @m1dn1ghtv1olet @who-tf-soddhi @ilovewonyo @nickiminajleftasscheek @ikeulove @payformycoffeeandleave @jvngw0nlvr @qtke @nikirangs @rairaiblog @tinyteezer @catecita @aespaqq @cyberstephzz @jakesimfromstatefarm @maniluvzyou @stormy1408 @missychief1404 @heevrs @shuichi-sama

[before-it-felt-like-a-sin]

Good Luck, Babe!

Pairing: Jackie x Fem! Reader 3k words

Summary: she was yours, but to everyone else she was Jeff's.

Warnings: internalized homophobia, cheating (kind of?). Sort of fluffy with a ton of angst and an angsty ending

I used so many lines or quotes from Good Luck, Babe! in this, so enjoy.

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

It was times like these you loved the most. Time spent in your bedroom, getting ready for parties together. Just you and Jackie. There was no pressure for perfection, no Jeff or Shauna to take Jackie's attention from you. Your definition of paradise.

You sat on your bed, watching as Jackie tried on outfit after outfit in front of you, trying to decide what to wear. You'd said some variation of "that looks good" to all of them, but Jackie still wasn't satisfied. She had to look perfect.

Not that you ever thought she didn't.

"What about this one?" She looked up at you, hazel eyes wide and questioning. 'This one' was a denim miniskirt and long sleeved baby blue top that showed just a hint of stomach.

"I like that a lot. You look good in blue."

Jackie sighs, like you've personally affronted her by not falling to your knees and proclaiming her beauty. You're about to succumb to stooping that low, just to get her to finally choose an outfit. Before you can, she nods and plops down at your vanity to finish up her hair.

"You could be a little more enthusiastic, you know." Jackie pouts up at you, brush midway through her hair.

It takes a lot for you to not roll your eyes. It's not that you don't care, but after outfit number five you always tend to get a little bored.

"Jax, you know you look good in everything." Standing up from your bed, you walk up behind her; staring at her face in the mirror. It's the truth. You think she looks stunning in everything.

Jackie, in turn, rolls her eyes at you in the vanity mirror, clearly exasperated with you. Before she can say anything, though, you tilt her head towards you and press a kiss to her lips. She, as expected, goes bright red at the action, and you can't help but laugh. No matter how many times you've kissed her, she always reacts the same way.

"I'm in the middle of something." She's pouting now, and lightly swats at your arm in what appears to be retaliation.

You want to say 'so I can't kiss my girlfriend anymore?', but you're not sure if that would land. Technically, she wasn't your girlfriend. Which totally didn't bother you. At all. It also totally didn't bother you that she was still dating Jeff. Kind of. It's complicated.

So, instead of continuing to pester her, you sit back on the edge of your bed, watching her as she continued to get ready. It doesn't take long before she's looking down at you impatiently, like somehow you were the one making her wait.

"I'm ready."

"I see that," you reply, standing up from your position on the bed, wrapping your arm around Jackie's waist before pressing a kiss to her cheek. She flushes yet again, and you wonder if she'll ever get used to your affection. Even behind closed doors, she's scared of people seeing you. It's fine. It's cool. Didn't bother you at all.

Soon, she's dragging you towards your car, all energy and life. So Jackie you can barely stand it. If it were up to you, the two of you wouldn't even be going to this stupid party. You'd be sat up in your bedroom, watching another shitty romcom. Unfortunately for you, Jackie decided she needed to make an appearance. Popular girl bullshit, you presumed, but what Jackie wanted, Jackie got. Especially when it came to you.

So, begrudgingly, you found yourself driving to Lottie's party, Jackie chattering to you excitedly from the passenger seat. You tried to enjoy it while it lasted, knowing she'd pretend you barely exist as soon as you walk in the door.

Part of you wanted to call it off, break up with her and make her figure her shit out. But then she'd look at you the way she is now, like you're the only person in the world who matters, and all thoughts of a breakup leave your mind.

The short rest of the drive is spent like that, Jackie talking and you listening. It's nice. Peaceful, even. The way the two of you can just be. No expectations, just each other. At least in the confines of your car.

About ten minutes later, you've pulled up to Lottie's house- no, mansion, and you steel yourself to brave the partygoers. Steel yourself to watch Jackie and Jeff be all over each other, even though Jackie always promises you that she won't be. It'll probably be even worse tonight, after Natalie decided to insinuate that the two of you were a couple a couple of days ago. Jackie swore up and down that the two of you were nothing, but somehow Nat knew the truth. And that scared Jackie, so you knew that tonight she was going to drown herself in Jeff, surround herself with boy, something you knew you could never give her.

As you step inside, Jackie beelines to the drinks, leaving you in the foyer of Lottie's massive home. Great.

You weren't totally sure if Shauna had shown up yet, and you knew that none of your other friends would be there. So, you set off to find something to occupy your time. You could find Jackie, but watching her with Jeff sounds like your nightmare, so that idea's out the window.

Instead, you decide to see if Shauna was at the party already. If nothing else, it gave you something to do. You wander around the party for a bit, saying hi to people you know, having a few short conversations with them. It's not exactly your idea of a good time, but it's better than standing up against the wall by yourself.

Half an hour later, you finally spot Shauna and breathe a sigh of relief. Thank god. You walk over to her, grateful to finally have someone to talk to.

"Where's Jackie?" are the first words out of her mouth, and you have to refrain from rolling your eyes.

"I'm not totally sure. I saw her with Jeff a little bit ago, but haven't since."

"She ditched you pretty fast." Shauna gives you a look, and you shrug. You knew Shauna had some idea of what was going on with you and Jackie, but she didn't know everything. And for Jackie's sake, you were going to keep it that way.

Not that Shauna would care, not really. And Jackie knew that. The issue was that if anyone, even Shauna, knew her secret, Jackie wouldn't be able to lie to herself anymore.

So, your mouth remained firmly shut. No one, absolutely no one, really knew what you and Jackie were. Maybe you were a fool for living in the closet for her. Yet you didn't want to lose her. There wasn't a way for you to win this.

"Let's go find her." Shauna's words snap you out of your thoughts, and you nod, following as she makes her way through the bodies of your classmates. At least with Shauna there, you had someone to talk to when Jeff and Jackie got to be too much.

It didn't take long to find Jackie, and as expected, she was tangled up with Jeff. When she saw you, she didn't move away from him, but she did shoot you a smile. At least she was acknowledging your existence. That was a win.

Jackie began to talk to Shauna, something about the game that weekend. You weren't really listening, too distracted by the way Jeff's arms wrapped around Jackie, trapping her close to him. She has to feel suffocated like that, someone she doesn't really want keeping her so close.

You realize, after a moment, that you're staring. It's then that you snap out of it, not wanting to look jealous. Even though you definitely were.

The group of you stayed like that for the rest of the party, occasionally someone leaving to get a drink, or one of the other girls from the soccer team stopping to talk. The only thing you found yourself doing, though, was staring at Jackie. You so badly wanted to pull her away, drive her home, and have her undivided attention. For now, though, you were stuck at this stupid party, your not-girlfriend cuddled up with a guy right in front of your face. This was hell.

Eventually, though, you did get to leave. Jackie untangled herself from Jeff, but not before he could give her a kiss. You clenched your fists at your sides, resisting the urge to to throttle Jeff. Not that you'd get very far, but it's the principle of the thing.

You make your way back to your car, Jackie chattering to you as you went.

'You'll be at the game tomorrow, right?" she asks as you slide into the driver's seat.

"Yeah, of course." Tentatively, you reach across the console, silently asking her to hold your hand. She accepts, and you smile. She still wanted you. Even if she didn't act like it in public, she still wanted you.

This time, the ride is a bit quieter, Jackie not talking much. You rub your thumb across the skin of her hand, and she squeezes yours in return.

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

The next morning, you're sitting on the bleachers, watching Jackie play. You note the lack of Jeff in the stands, and wonder if Jackie told him not to come, or he just didn't want to. Either way, you were happy.

You watch as the Yellowjackets score goal after goal, cheering obnoxiously every time Jackie scores. Of course, you can't be too focused on her, but it's hard not to be. The way she plays is just so mesmerizing, and she looks like she just belongs on the field.

The game is mostly uneventful, the Yellowjackets crushing the other team like usual. You move to your car to wait as Jackie talks to Coach, then Shauna. Finally, fifteen minutes later, Jackie bounds up to you. She's smiling like crazy, and her bangs are sticking to her forehead from sweat. You've never wanted to kiss her so badly.

You roll down the window so that you're able to hold a conversation with her.

"We won."

"Yes, I know. I was there."

She rolls her eyes, bouncing around to the other side of the car and getting inside.

"You could pretend to be excited," she huffs, giving you a look.

"Did you not hear me cheering for you?"

She laughs, and you're glad her sour mood was just for show.

"Do you wanna grab lunch?" she asks, looking at you with pleading eyes. Even if you were going to say no, which you weren't, you couldn't have resisted that face.

"Yeah, you have any ideas?" You had to focus intently on not grinning like a lovestruck fool, but it was difficult considering Jackie had just asked you out on a date. Kind of. It was still complicated.

"There's that cute little coffee shop that Shauna's obsessed with. I've been a couple of times, the food was honestly pretty good. We could go there?" She glanced at you, waiting for your response.

You shrug, giving a small nod. "Yeah, that sound's good."

Jackie smiles, and quickly glances around the parking lot and adjacent soccer field. When she sees that you're the only people left there, she leans over and presses a kiss to your cheek. She's blushing, as always, but seems a bit more confident this time. It warms your heart, and you wonder if maybe, just maybe, she's coming to terms with the fact that she's a lesbian.

She settles back into the passenger seat and starts to animatedly describe each of the plays from the game. You're not paying much attention to what she's saying, more focused on her voice and her scent from the seat next to yours. You'd never admit it, but you loved the way she was after a game. A little bit imperfect. A lot more Jackie. You sort of wished she was like that all the time.

"-although, I swear to god, if Natalie shows up late to another practice, I'm going to lose my mind. We're on track to make it to states, maybe even nationals. Yet Nat thinks she can just skip because she's screwing some college guy." Jackie chatters on about team dynamics and who she wishes was more invested in making it to nationals, while you half listen.

"How has she not gotten benched, if she's consistently late or missing?" you inquire, briefly turning to Jackie before focusing back on the road.

"I don't fucking know, honestly. Probably because she's still a decent player, even if she ditches practice. It's just so annoying." She sounds slightly exasperated, and you squeeze her knee for a bit of comfort.

"I'm sure she'll come back around soon. She's never been known to keep a fuck buddy around for long," you remark, citing what the rumor mill had told you about Natalie Scatorccio. You didn't know the girl that well, but she seemed nice. Even if Jackie often had complaints.

Jackie shrugs. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Doesn't make it any less annoying now, though."

You nod in agreement, and Jackie goes back to talking. This time, though, she's debating a color scheme for her and Shauna's future Rutgers dorm. You weigh in when she asks, telling her your preferences, or giving her examples of colors Shauna might like. By the time you get to the coffee shop, she still hasn't decided on a theme. The topic, however, is changed once you order your lunch and sit down at a table by the windows.

It's nice, being with her like this. It feels like a real date, like you're not hiding that you're together from everyone you know. Or, well, like you're actually together in the first place. Not something in-between where there's no label, no saying 'we're girlfriends', not even to each other.

You shove those thoughts out of your mind, focusing on what's in front of you. How Jackie's sitting across from you, smiling, laughing, talking about anything and everything. Treating you like you're the most important person alive.

Lunch continues like that, like a real date, and you find yourself falling harder for her than you thought possible. The way she got so excited about things she's passionate about. The way she talks with her hands. The way she hits her foot against yours under the table when she thinks you're not paying attention.

Eventually, though, when you'd been at the coffee shop for a couple of hours, and both of you were finished with your meals, you did have to leave. Jackie had plans with Shauna, and you had to work on an essay for English class.

You dropped Jackie off at her house, and she smiled back at you while walking to the front door. The way she looked at you made your heart absolutely melt, and for a moment, nothing but her mattered.

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

`Jeff was climbing out her window.

Jeff fucking Sadecki was climbing out of Jackie Taylor's window, and you were supposed to be okay with that.

Why wouldn't you be, right? Why wouldn't you be okay with that? It's not like Jackie was your girlfriend or anything.

The thing was, you understood that she wanted the protection of Jeff in public. Why she felt the need to stay in the closet. You understood. You never wanted to make her uncomfortable, or to push her to do things she wasn't ready for.

What you didn't understand, though, is why Jeff was inside her house. With Jackie. And you didn't know about it.

How long had it been happening? How long had she been seeing Jeff without you knowing?

You were suddenly furious, angrier than you had ever thought possible. She was so self absorbed, so stuck in her own shit, that she didn't even think about how this would affect you.

Waiting until Jeff's car disappears down the street, you get out and walk to the door of the Taylor home. Knocking on the door, you wait for a response, silently hoping Jackie's parent's aren't home. You don't want them to bear witness to what's about to happen. You may be pissed at Jackie, but you still loved her, and didn't want her parents finding out about what had been going on between the two of you.

When a few minutes later Jackie opens the door, the first words out of your mouth are "Are your parents home?"

"No. Are you okay?"

Instead of answering, you push past her, storming up to her bedroom. She follows, completely confused, still asking questions.

"Are you sleeping with him?" You finally ask, turning around to face her. Jackie's face goes completely white, all the blood rushing from it. That's all you need to confirm your suspicions.

"What the fuck, Jackie. You didn't even have the fucking decency to tell me? You were just what? Going to fuck him, be his fucking girlfriend, when we both know full fucking well that you don't like boys? Jesus Christ."

You pause for a moment, but before Jackie can get a word in, you're back to your angered ranting.

"One day, when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night, you're going to put your head in your hands and realize you're nothing more than his wife. And when you think about me, all those years ago? You're going to hate to say it, but I fucking told you so. Good fucking luck, babe." Without waiting for a response, you push past her again, stomping down the stairs, outside, and back into your car.

Before she can catch up to you, if she was even trying to, you pulled out into the street and drove away. It's not until your halfway home that you're crying, realizing what just happened. You can barely see the road through your tears, and faintly, you realize that the mixtape she made for you is playing through the speakers of your car. You can't bring yourself to turn it off.

[mimikyusrealform]

six degrees of separation

Spencer Reid x Reader. Word Count: 1781. Summary: While circulating the photo of a serial killer around a bar in New York, Spencer gets distracted by the sight of someone who used to only exist in his memories. Notes and Warnings: Set around Season 2 before Revelations, because S2 Reid is the loveliest he's ever been. There's a bit of cussing, and mentions of bullying (not particularly explicit), so read at your own discretion.

The man in front of you is familiar. It's better to say that his face is familiar to you, but not the man himself.

He's asking something, “Have you seen this guy?” In a nervous way, his left hand's fingers, the ones not holding up a fairly young guy's picture, twist and untwist. It's like there's electricity under his skin, and a fuzz in his head. He can't stay still. “Ma'am?” he prompts at your silence.

“What did you say your name was again?” you are asking before you can think it over.

“Uh, I'm Doctor—but you don't have to call me that, it's optional, actually, forget that—Spencer Reid.” He is flustered. You can tell it's not because of you, but because you're a person. Still looking at him, you sip from your Gin and Tonic. His brown hair is smooth and carefully parted, no apparent use of gel, but brushed nicely so it shines, even under the bar's poor lighting. He wears professor clothes: a brown vest, a white button-up and low-rise slacks. He's sinewy and wiry, and you wonder if his bones are naturally thin or it's because he doesn't eat enough. You guess that it might be both.

“Are you from Las Vegas?” you ask him.

“Y-yeah.” He's changed the picture to his left hand, and his right one rubs at the back of his neck. “How did you know? Nevermind. I need to know if you've seen this man?”

It clicks, then. You think it's because of that gesture. You squint your eyes at the picture. “No, I haven't.” You stab him in the chest with your index finger. He recoils as if you had actually stabbed him. “Doesn't matter. It's you who I've seen before; I remember now. You're that kid that graduated from high-school at twelve years old. I was a freshman when that happened.”

He blinks owlishly; it's kind of cute. Then, he blinks again, and a third time. With a start, he miraculously says your name. “I didn't recognize you,” he admits shamefully; you wave your hand dismissively. “I-it's good to see you.”

It truly is—good to see you. Spencer doesn't have many fond memories of his time in high-school. But you're certainly one of the few. He never imagined you would remember him, though, he wasn't important to you the way you were, are to him.

You were short, once, this he can picture clearly, with round and rosy cheeks, and crowded teeth. You must have gone through braces, he notes. That, too, he can picture clearly; well, imagine it. You've grown up. Of course, you've grown up. It's such a menial observation that it makes him embarrassed, somehow. You're a good memory that he's kept dearly, close to his heart. After all, you saved him, twice. Twice! The first time from himself, and the second time from others. How he hadn't immediately recognized you, it was beyond him. You are just as pretty and impossible as an adult as when you were a kid.

The first time, he had been walking out of school with a dejected drag of the feet. Mary Clarkson had made fun of him in Math class, because he stammered when answering a complex question, and that had been enough to dim the sun in the sky. He needed to cross the street, and he vaguely checked both ways, head still hung low, before attempting to cross. And then, a hand pulled him by the scruff, harshly and violently, almost throwing him over his back on the ground. He reacted accordingly, jolting out of the hold, thinking he was about to get beaten up. But what he came face-to-face with was your scowl at the same time that behind him, a car exceeding the speed limit whipped through the street.

You had said, in an extremely high-pitched voice while digging your index finger into his chest, “Are you actually dumb? They say you're a genius, but geniuses look both sides before crossing the street! You're just silly, after all!” Your intonation was kind of obnoxious, but then you grabbed his wrist, the right one, pried his fingers open and gently deposited a Hershey's Kiss from your backpack on his palm. “Get better,” you had said, and bolted away to join your own friends, who were all giggling at the display. He always looks both ways after that. And sometimes, he feels true warmth in his chest, where your fingertip had marked him an eternity ago.

The second time was just a month before senior graduation. His senior graduation. Mark Brown and his two friends-slash-lackeys had been throwing him around the lockers, and everyone else either ignored them or hid their smirks behind their hands. Brown was saying something like, “C'mon, I got to teach you. You like learning, don't you, freak? Hold him, you gu—” Brown was a senior, so he was about seventeen years old, almost eighteen. And you were just a freshman, freshly fourteen-years-old. And yet you had walked up behind Brown, gripping the straps of your backpack between your bony fingers, and hurled it at the back of his head, almost knocking him down. Spencer vividly remembers the tingle that ran up his spine at the sound of your shrill yet demanding voice telling Brown to, “Move out of the way, skank! You're crowding my goddamn locker! Filthy, stupid bitch, are you blind or did your junkie father finally beat all the braincells out of your head?”

Then, you forcefully hit the other two guys with your backpack as well until they dispersed. Years later, Spencer would come to know why Brown couldn't hit you. Why Brown would never hit a girl, and instead of fighting you, he scattered. You had placed your hands on your hips and glared at him, before saying, “If you like to learn so much, then why don't you learn how to throw a punch? How to kick a roundhouse. No school director is expelling you. Or, at least, learn how to talk back at stupid skanks. If you can not be stronger, then be smarter, silly.”

Silly, silly, silly. That was the second time you called him silly, the second time you saved him.

“Is that so,” you are saying now. “Then, I suppose it's nice seeing you, too. Who's that man, anyway?”

He glances down at the picture in his own hand, like he had forgotten it was there. “Oh, yeah. Um, this is a suspect in a case I—”

“Are you the police?” you interrupt.

“O-oh, no. No, I'm not. FBI,” he explains, pulling out his badge and showing it to you. 

There's a glint in your eyes. “FBI,” you repeat, voice a tiny bit as shrill as he remembered it being. “How old are you?”

“I'm twenty-four,” he tells you earnestly. Does that impress you? It embarrasses him how much he wants it to impress you. “I, uh, joined when I was twenty-two.”

“I'm twenty-six,” you tell him, expectantly.

He isn't sure how he knows what you want him to say, but he says, “Congratulations. You look younger.”

You don't preen at his words, but you smile at him, and it's the first time he's seen your smile, despite having daydreamed about what it would look like many times before. It's nothing like his imagination. It's not wide and smooth nor is it sweet. It's lopsided, crooked; and he can see your canines are a bit askew and sharp. When you turn your head to the side to take a sip from your white-night drink, he memorizes the planes of your profile. The valley of your cheek, the crest of the bone under your eye, the cliff of your nose bone. He sees the very naked neck, the precipice between your collarbones. Your face is lovely and curious, and so is the slope of your bare shoulders. He wants to run his fingers down the spaghetti-straps of your dress, that dig into your skin. He wonders if the straps are drawing red lines.

He wants to say something, maybe all he wants is for you to listen to him, but then he hears Morgan calling him.

You hear it, too; you don't know who's calling for him, but you know it's more important than you. So you tilt your head towards him in acknowledgement that he has to go. “Goodbye, Doctor,” you say, smiling again. “Goodbye, silly.”

“No, wait,” he stumbles. “We—I still have some time. Let me—”

“Time?” you interrupt him again. “Funny business, time. It delights frustrating your plans. Don't you know?”

His brain catches up to the reference before himself. “The Seventh Doctor,” he mutters. He sounds surprised to his own ears. “From Dragonfire; Season 24, Serial 4. Broadcasted from November 23 to December 7 of 1987. I was six years old when it came out. The Doctor said it to Mel at the end of the third part.”

You are looking at him with amusement at the same time Morgan calls for him again. “What, do you think I can't like Doctor Who?”

“No, not at all,” he recomposes himself, clears his throat, and almost trips back when you grab his wrist, the right one. “W-what are you doing?” His voice is a couple semitones higher.

You don't answer him. Instead, you take a pen from your dress' pocket and write something on his soft skin.

When he lifts his hand in front of his face, he blushes terribly at the sight of what he assumes—hopes—is your phone number.

“Call me,” you say. You pause, and then add, “Don't be silly and start overthinking it. Good night, Doctor.”

You leave after that.

He's left dazzled and dazed, standing there. He feels like a raw wire, and there's a pleasant flow of warmth spreading through his body from where your fingers curled around his joint.

He runs away when he sees Morgan's arched eyebrows and mirthful expression. Not before catching the mocking mimic of, “Good night, Doctor.” He groans a quick shut up in his haste to leave the establishment.

He's such a coward. But he's not coward enough not to call you later that night during the flight back to Quantico. He texts, “Who's your favorite Doctor?” And feels like kicking himself. Who starts a conversation like that? Before he can delete it and disappear, you reply, “I'm not sure, Dr. Reid. I don't think he exists yet. Why, did you want me to say you are my favorite Doctor?”

Morgan laughs the whole flight after reading over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, he finds he can't be embarrassed about it. Not when you spend the rest of the night texting him.

[tf2occontest]

Ágatha, the Nurse VS Scurple (Purple Scout)

(Full matchup list here)

Alright team, here's a recap: This is a contest to determine who amongst you will take the top of the leaderboards and be hired at TFI! Simply put, whoever gets the most votes gets to move on, and whoever doesn't... Well. They'll be put down swiftly and cleanly. :}

So, mann your stations, because here are your next contestants! Vote for your favorite mercenary who you want to win the TF2 OC Contest! - P

OC INFO UNDER THE CUT!

We highly encourage you to take a peek to make your decision!

Ágatha, the Nurse

@arts-of-gjb

Image credit: @/arts-of-gjb

Ágatha is a young brazilian girl from Salvador, Bahia (Brazil). She is very friendly and energetic, but also have a deep taste for medical experiments and doesn't mind seing blood for the most of the time, traces that were noticed and encouraged by her uncle, Medic. He started to bring her once she made 10 so he could teach her all he know. Inside the battlefields, Ágatha asumes The Nurse title, The nurse class in unable to capture control points, move payloads, grab inteligences or even cause directly cause damadge to others players, because her only objectives as part of the team are:

To assist, by curing her team. different of Medic, the nurse does not have a medigun to that, so she fulfills this task by being able to grab the medikits (or other healing iten disponible on the ground) and then give them to your teamates

To anoy, by shooting small injections on the rivals. as said before, they wont make any damadge, however, they will "stop" the player for a few secconds (the same way that when you're hit by a christmas glove from heavy, but it should make a pain animation than a laught one, and would work if hit in any body part).

Once her hp reaches 0, the nurse would enter in a "sleeping mode", where you get unable to do anything. If no one does anything with you when youre like this for a couple of seconds, then you wake up with half of your total hp, but if someone from the opposite team pick you up and leave you to a specifc location, then you are teleported to your respaw base, where you get unable to go out for a minute (be grounded time >:I )

A vote for Ágatha is a vote for Red team, Medic, Brasil and nepotism!!!!!!!

Scurple (Purple Scout)

@cyantt-does-stuff

Image credit: @/cyantt-does-stuff

Scurple is an alien who's taken control over the Blu Scout's body. His aim is to steal the technology of the respawn machine. His goal, immortality.

I made this character after watching a few Freak Fortress videos. I thought about a unique take on one of the Scouts, and, since Blu is mostly correlated with horror, I decided to go for them. Since aliens are a big part of TF2, I thought "why not have an alien takeover" sort of deal. Thus, Scurple was born.

He's looks exactly like the Blue Scout (with a bit of my own personal hcs, like Blu having freckels/and scars). How his shirt turned purple is a mystery, however I have this idea that somehow he turned it purple through bloodshed.

He's completely different from either Scout. In fact, he really isn't truly a Scout. He's just using the Scout's body as a means to an end.

I think he'd like participating in a fight to the death, since that's what his character must do to achieve his mission. Maybe his winning could get him one step closer to gaining the immortality he so desires.

He exists in the main TF2 universe, and also coexists in the Freak Fortress universe.

[earthmoonz]

WIFEY. PT 2 | EP TWO (2.0)

start / previous / next [haven’t read part one?]

typically, it was lena’s preference to wake alone. the quiet dawn brought comfort, allowing her to exist only as herself instead of the product of what made her. today though, she’d  woken with a scowl. sleep had been restless which was somehow worse than none at all. if asked, she would blame the unfamiliarity of her surroundings, but in truth, her mood had soured from the moment she reached across the mattress and realised no one else was there.

it was midnight when she arrived at her mother’s home. san myshuno to copperdale was a three hour drive and while traffic had been merciful, lena remained tense. she'd never quite settled in the northern town. the family ran a decent operation up there but it was nothing compared to the speed and grandeur of san my.

[click for hq]

(continued prose + transcript below)

(cont.) for a time she’d been a gun for hire. the work was tedious but it blessed her with independence more importantly, forced her away from familial dysfunction. the early days of the scott’s exile from san myshuno had been brutal and sticking around would have made it far worse.

(Max): Hey. Did I wake you?

(Lena): Nah, I was gonna go for a run. Why are you up so early?

(Max): Ugh…I can’t sleep. Danielle's bed is way too soft.

(Lena): Poor baby. 

(Max): It’s fine, I can nap on the sofa when Simone’s gone to work. How was the drive last night?

(Lena): Okay, and decent. Traffic was alright for once. 

(Max): Good…do you know if your brother’s still there?

(Lena): I don’t. But it’s not like he’d be anywhere else.

(Max): Fair... How long are you staying again?

(Lena): I'm driving back tomorrow. Why, you missing me already?

(Max): Not if you’re gonna be a freak about it.

(Lena): You’re such a brat.

(Max): [feigned ignorance] I don’t know what you mean.

(Lena): See, if you were being good, I could’ve helped you get back to sleep.

(Max): …I'm being good now.

(Lena): Oh really? [a thud sounds from outside the door] for fuck sake. 

(Max): Huh?

(Lena): Sorry baby but I’ve gotta go. You’re still looking at flats later, right? Let me know how that goes, okay?

(Max): Yeah, okay b- [the call ends]

[***]

[Lena pulls open the door]

(Lena): Can I fucking help you?

(Lourdes): Don’t be like that. I just got here and mami said-

(Lena): [mocking] ‘Mami said’-oh fuck off, Lourdes.

(Lourdes): Lena, you can’t keep ignoring me. It's been weeks!

(Lena): Why don’t you go and bother Luis since your head lives up his arse these days. 

(Lourdes): You are…such a bitch.

[martiae]

from me to you | pepe martí

“all of the girls you’ve loved before, made you the one i’ve fallen for” ♡ (inspired by to all the boys i’ve loved before!)

synopsis: you’ve been in love with your childhood best friend since you were 6. when you were 13, you decided to start writing love letters to him. you never planned on sending them but they somehow made their way to his house?

pairing: pepe marti x reader (y/n) adler | genre: highschool au, smau, fluff, slight angst | warnings: some cursing, suggestive jokes from christian (haha), gianna/gigi is an oc, y/n is kind of irritating because she assumes a lot !!

chapter 2 : the diner

now playing : breaking news — flowerovlove

you sighed before putting your phone down on the table, your anxiety rising as you realize what you’re doing at this place.

after gianna left you alone with pepe after school, you were able to steer both of your guys ways to this diner.

it gave you more time to plan your words, no, your sentences. you needed to make sure you didn’t say anything that you’ll regret. obviously pepe was mad, his face has told you a lot.

your thoughts were put on pause when you saw a strawberry milkshake be carefully placed in front of you. you glanced up and saw the small smile on his face. he carefully slid into the booth, facing you directly as he pulled his milkshake towards himself.

“um..” you let out.

his eyes dart towards yours, his eyebrows raising.

“thank you. i could’ve paid for myself” you thanked.

a small smile appeared on his face, his head softly shaking.

“you could’ve, but, i didn’t want you to” he said.

your stomach turned, your eyes lingering on his face as he sipped his milkshake.

it was true, all of what you wrote. you can’t remember everything but you still feel as if those things and feelings are true. they definitely still exist too.

“so..” he let out, his posture straightening as he put his elbows on the table.

his eyes had the certain sparkle to them, the very pretty one. he looked at you with an intense gaze, his face looking more neutral.

“after forcing me to get you a milkshake..will you finally speak?”

your mouth opened in surprise, a small smile appearing on your face.

“force?” you asked, a small chuckle coming out.

“i think i chose the right word. you said nothing but ‘follow me’ after i asked you if we could talk about it!” he replied with a smile.

well he wasn’t necessarily wrong. but you didn’t expect him to follow you, or pay for your food, or look at you with such an endearing expression.

“well..what do you want to talk about?” you coughed out guiltily.

a grin appeared on his face, his head tilting to stare at you more efficiently.

“were those letters real?”

“i’m not sure what letters you’re talking about. maybe if you considered telling me what they said id be able to respond effectively” you responded.

“you’re like a robot” he said with a laugh.

you shrugged your shoulders, biting your straw to try to not show your utter fear.

pepe’s face became slightly red, his eyes not meeting yours.

“what? what’d they say?” you asked with genuine concern.

you felt the embarrassment a mile away. if pepe was getting second hand embarrassment, you didn’t even want to know.

“nevermind! don’t say it! please i rather not hear it..” you interjected.

he finally looked at you, sensing you about to say more.

“look, i haven’t written a single letter since sophomore year. i don’t even want to know what it said but just know that it’s most likely really old! and not important or relevant anymore.” you explained with a loud sigh.

“it’s not relevant anymore?” he asked.

“yeah probably not. i totally forgot what i was talking about in those things” you said with a very fake chuckle.

“oh…” he let out, an unreadable expression on his face.

“so, don’t worry about it anymore!” you reassured.

“alright..” he said with a hint of uncertainty.

you knew it was wrong to lie. you knew that lying was something you didn’t really want to do; however, lying was the only realistic thing to do.

often times, the things we can’t say are the most important.

you wish you could say that you were in love with him. but, you couldn’t.

you know that you never could confess to him. confessing to him meant that you’d have to move on, and that was something that you knew would never happen. liking him in silence was the best option, and your original option.

you guys quickly began to catch up, his voice and laugh and attentiveness making your heart skip a beat.

it was nice: when things were like this. his laughter filling your ears, your conversation never ending, and the reason why you guys were here seemingly being unimportant.

“you didn’t have to walk me home” you told, a small smile appearing nevertheless.

pepe smiled back, “the sun is setting. what kind of guy would let a girl walk home alone?”

“a normal guy” you replied back.

“well i am not normal”

yeah. he isn’t a ‘normal’ guy. that’s why things between you two can never happen.

when you both reached your front porch, you turned to face him.

“your house still looks the same!” he exclaimed

you giggled, “of course. you know that my mom hates changing things”

pepe laughed, “yeah. you’re right about that one.”

“pepe! is that you?” a voice called.

“oh speaking of her!” you let out with an amused chuckle.

“oh! good evening tía!”

“pepe! oh wow look at you, you look so handsome!” your mom sang as she approached him.

“thank you..” he shyly nodded.

“come over for dinner someday, okay?” she said with a smile.

pepe nodded with a small smile, “i will”

your mom nodded with a pleased expression, slowly putting her hand on your shoulder.

“it’s cold out. let’s go inside now”

“alright!” you said.

“see you again tía! bye (name)” pepe waved.

your mom waved and you said goodbye, a warm smile appearing on your face.

“it’s been a while since i’ve seen pepe. it’s nice to see him. bring him over for dinner sometime” your mom commented.

“yeah, okay.” you agreed.

it has been a while. i guess it wouldn’t hurt to invite him over again.

[whereispearlescentmoon]

@solidwater05 @tinapaysmp I felt like I had to add to this in a reblog rather than a reply.

I had no idea that she was supposed to be evil in his POV originally because I hadn’t watched it (Pearl’s double life pov was the first life series thing I ever saw). So I was legit baffled when he came out swinging with “She’s been corrupting you this entire time!” Because to me it’s just baffling that anyone could think that. In Pearl’s pov is very clear that she is a deeply sad individual who is going a little cooky in isolation. I’m not going to comment on whether or not it’s proper RP etiquette to put that kind of storyline on someone, but I think Martyn may have made a bit of a blunder there definitely. We do have to remember that the players generally don’t watch each others POVs. It’s entirely possible Martyn has never seen Pearl’s double life POV and doesn’t know how events went down from her eyes.

In Martyn’s defense, the whole server kind of wrote her off as evil and deranged, hence why she kind of descended into full bloodthirsty when she was red. She ended up playing into what other people thought of her because she couldnt disprove it.

It also helps that part of her whole “going insane” arc is genuinely Martyn’s fault. He didn’t have to ditch her and blame her for the whole divorce thing in the first episode when going to the nether was his idea. He chose to not team up with her and to instead say it was her fault and try to chase after Cleo. So you could almost see it as him trying to deflect blame by blaming something supernatural rather than himself.

I also think that Martyn and Ren are maybe even larger contributors to the whole Scarlet Pearl thing than even Scott or Cleo. Ren called her a demon and said she had wickedness within her and brought death wherever she went after she did something admittedly reckless, but completely standard for the Life Series. And then Martyn played into it with the whole dog log thing, acting like Pearl was some evil spirit to be summoned via ritual. I think the only reason Pearl even entertained Martyn and Ren’s team up idea (however briefly) was out of sheer loneliness. But ultimately would that team up have even been worth it if it’s with two people who saw her as somehow supernaturally evil for literally no reason? She wasn’t even red at that point, no one had a real reason to fear her.

The Tilly being evil thing is, like you said, Martyn fully misunderstanding a situation and rashly deciding he knows the solution to a problem that doesn’t exist. I’ve said it before but Martyn plays extremely impulsively. Of course he tried to kill something he didn’t understand.

Listen I love Martyn’s watcher lore and his narratives as much as the next guy but there’s two instances of his lore straight up failing that I find extremely funny, and that you would would only really know if you’ve watched these two povs. Again, cannot emphasize enough, I love Martyn’s lore and he can do whatever he wants and it’s fun when other creators play into it (Jimmy being the best example) but it’s also very funny when they just don’t.

The first example is when he created that little story that actually Tilly was evil and corrupting Pearl into becoming Scarlet/Red/5 AM Pearl. This of course failed because he had no way of knowing that Tilly had already died when he went to fight Pearl in the finale, as only the owner of a wolf sees their death message. Also, the fandom at large rejected it because from Pearl’s POV, Tilly is her soulmate and her best friend, and is absolutely not evil.

The second is that Gem has her own Life Series lore, which again is only in her POV, that goes directly against his. Gem’s lore, which exists through her Empires and Hermitcraft series as well, is that she remembers literally everything and is willingly traveling across worlds to do things. So the whole “people are made to play the games and also don’t have emotions tied to the previous ones” doesn’t apply to her because she is just willingly participating and still feels exactly the same. Hence her intense beef with Pearl in Wild Life because she remembers Secret Life and the emotions connected to it. You could try to fit this into Martyn’s lore by making her a watcher or a listener, but it’s funnier to me if she’s just a special exception.

Honorable mention to ZombieCleo, Smajor, and Pearl who have also disproven the whole “no emotional ties to previous games” thing multiple times by being deeply emotional towards each other and towards other players about things that have happened in previous games. Cleo literally still felt bitter at Impulse for 3rd Life at the beginning of Wild Life and that’s beautiful.

[koji-haru]

Time Travel AU Part: 26

Two yellow eyes stared back at Adam with impassive dullness as he laid on the grass on his stomach, his legs slowly swinging back and forth just as Amora’s long tail swished behind her. Under the shade of thick, fluffy clouds, in the middle of a vast meadow, the two were locked in an unintentional staring competition. Neither the man or the cat had made any other move for a few minutes now, nor had they spoken a word to each other. Both seemingly too stubborn to give in. Or perhaps only Adam was the stubborn one, and Amora was just being what she was, a jaguar who probably couldn’t even fathom what the human in front of her was attempting to do. 

Still, Adam kept his recent suspicions regarding the animal as he squinted at her, his golden eyes enshrouded with scepticism at the seeming innocence before him. Never in his excessively long existence had he ever directly spoken with an animal before. Truly, without a shadow of doubt, he knew that animals couldn’t speak a human language. The only instance he knew of an ‘animal’ talking was when a certain white serpent convinced the second woman to take a bite of the forbidden fruit. And even then, that wasn’t truly an animal, but a now former angel. 

Wait.

Hold on…

Somehow squinting even harder to express his growing suspicions, Adam gauged carefully the jaguar before him, ensuring not to miss any particularly off about the animal’s body language. From the way her ears flicked from time to time, how both of her paws were laid in front of her or how her eyes might be able to reveal something. Anything at all. And yet, no matter how meticulous Adam tried to be, Amora gave no hints, just her usual mildly standoffish self. There were no words of admission, no cloud of magic to reveal an unknown angel, and no ethereal voice echoing in the back of his mind like the one he had in that one dream. The only sounds around them were the chirping of the birds flying over them and whistling of the winds as it passed by the sea of grass. 

As one last attempt, Adam decided to regard the animal directly. “You know Gabriel had left already, and it’s just us in the garden for a while,” he said as he laid his chin over his folded arms. 

No response. Well, none except for a large paw placed on his face as he heard a loud yawn from the large cat. Adam let out a loud sigh, tilting his head to the side so that he was facing the blue horizon, the large cat’s paw sliding off onto the grass. His entire body sank in defeat, the softness of the grass bringing him some sort of mild comfort. The possibility of his mind being driven to insanity from isolation now became something he truly considered, because at this point, not even he was entirely sure what he was expecting to come out of a jaguar. A jaguar that had never spoken to him, except for in that one dream. But even then, it was a faceless voice…

The softening rays of the afternoon sun felt like a soothing blanket over him – a warmth in addition to the robes he wore, the whistling lullabies from the winds flowed over his form, rocking him gently, kissing his eyes close towards peaceful slumber. As he felt his consciousness take a momentary break from the outside world, the breeze that brushed over his body took on a different form – one that felt peculiarly out of place. A little lighter than the rest, a strange coolness with its touch, flowing out of sync from the rest as if it didn’t belong.

Not now, but soon… 

Adam jolted awake. The last few remaining light of the day was already being swallowed up by the unreachable horizon as a creeping darkness inched its way over the garden. Pushing himself off the ground, he found that Amora was no longer in front of him. Eyes wide and a sudden rush flowing through his veins, he sat up even straighter, looking around his surroundings for a trace of his animal companion until his searching eyes landed on two figures in the sea of green with him. With hushed movements, Michael and Amora, who very much still looked like a normal jaguar, were wrestling and playing around on the grass. Though to what extent was the play, Adam wasn’t sure as Amora had her teeth around the angel’s head while Michael tried to carefully pry the animal off of him without using too much force, his wings fluttering lightly behind him. 

“What are you two doing?” asked Adam, the peaceful normality in front of him a bizarre contrast to what he thought he experienced mere moments ago. 

“Oh! Sorry, did we wake you?” Michael turned to face Adam, both hands still holding open the large cat’s sharp jaws, a large amount of drool soaking his hair and dripping onto the collars of his robes. “We are, uh, just…playing?”

Moving his gaze slightly up to carefully observe his feline friend, Adam searched once more for traces of abnormality, anything that didn’t belong. Ironic, considering who Adam truly was and the circumstances of his stay in the garden. He wondered if this was what Lucifer felt like back then, feeling like something that wasn’t supposed to be existed and yet he couldn’t gather nor provide evidence for it, just his sole gut feeling and bizarre instances. Regardless, just like Lucifer back then, Adam found nothing to indicate anything odd with his animal companion.

And so, brushing off the strange whisper he thought he felt against his ear, Adam got up to assist Amora’s removal from Michael. With a clear and obvious bias towards the first man, Amora easily unlatched from the angel, whose appearance was now a wet sloppy mess, and obediently followed Adam’s commands to sit quietly on the grass away from Michael. 

“Don’t bully Michael too much, okay? He’s got plenty of other things to worry about already,” Adam lightly scolded the large cat, a finger lightly pressing against her nose.

“We were just playing! I’m sure she likes me well enough,” Michael added in the background, sounding blindingly optimistic about Amora’s clear opinion of him. It was apparent that the jaguar didn’t hold any hatred for the angel, but Adam thought her partial distaste for Michael was something that was particularly obvious. Especially given that Amora seemed to enjoy messing up the angel’s appearance whenever she could, or when she would often try to get in between the two. 

Even though Adam thought that the answer was apparent in Michael’s behaviour, he still wanted to ask a certain question. If anything, at least to cross it off his list. 

“By the way,” Adam started, turning around to face the angel as he took a seat beside Amora, one hand idly brushing her spotted fur. “Can you talk to animals?”

The question seemed to have caught Michael a little off guard as he stared blankly back at Adam without a word for a few seconds before blinking then directing his eyes up into nowhere in particular, brows furrowed slightly, a thoughtful hum in the air. “Hmm, I haven’t really tried to, but I’m quite sure I couldn’t. Why?”

“Oh, just wondering,” Adam casually answered back as he leaned over Amora, her fur feeling both warm and soft beneath him even as some managed to poke through the fabric he wore. Despite having just woken up from a short nap, Adam was already feeling the tug of sleep pulling at his mind once more as the sky grew darker and darker, slowly blanketing the garden into comfortable darkness. “Gabriel just mentioned being to talk to them earlier today.”

“Oh. Well, Gabriel can communicate with every living thing,” Michael added before muttering a quick, “...even though you might wish he would stop sometimes…”

A soft chuckle left Adam as he heard the little complaint his angel rarely expressed. The corners of his eyes crinkled as a smile slid onto his lips as an overflowing warmth settled in his chest at the mere sight before him. The darkness of the night, the world around them were dressed in shadows of dark blue, distant silhouettes of towering trees surrounded from multiple directions. And yet, the only silhouette that Adam had eyes on was one belonging to a winged figure in front of him, the pale blue glow of his halo along with the stars scattered across his cheeks the only light he needed in the darkness. Adam let out a quiet yawn, stretching his limbs a little before snuggling back onto Amora and returning his gaze back towards the enchanting angel before him.

Michael crawled a little closer towards Adam, his robes shuffling softly against the grass, his delicate face a beautiful glow that the first man couldn’t help but admire. “Should I leave you to rest for today?” he whispered, voice lighter than the kisses from the evening air.

“Mmm, no,” Adam mumbled as he slid down Amor’s fur and rolled to the side to make some room for his angel. Patting the grass beside him and with a pleading shine in his golden eyes, Adam asked Michael, “Stay with me?”

With such an earnest request, Michael had no other choice but to accept. Not that he wouldn’t take whatever excuse and reason he could get just to spend more time with his human. Especially since he had barely gotten to spend any time with Adam today, his time having been consumed by his other duties. Laying his head carefully onto Amora’s side, making sure that the animal was fine with his presence first, Michael laid beside Adam, the two facing the deepening night. 

“Well, this is unfortunate,” Adam laughed a little. He had wanted to spend the night simply watching the stars with Michael, possibly renaming some of them again, but the clouds didn’t seem to want to work in his favour tonight. Dark grey clouds obscured most of the stars in the night sky, with even the moon’s pale light barely peeking through its thick cover. It was one of those nights when the garden was almost in complete darkness. “We can’t see anything at all.”

“Hm, let me try something,” Michael said as he opened his palm into the air, and from his pale fingertips emerged glitters of gold, ethereal and bodiless in their glow, reminiscent of an old star’s distant light. As more of that golden light left his fingertips, floating lightly in the air and spreading into the night sky, the dark world around the two of them slowly began to brighten up. 

And even though the stars of the sky were hidden tonight, reflecting just as brightly golden were the stars in Adam’s eyes as he followed the glitters’ mesmerising dance in the air. With curious, yet gentle hands, Adam reached out to the floating lights with some sticking onto him though there was no sensation upon contact. 

“Look!” Adam said as he turned to his side, wanting to show his angel his gold flecked hand, and was met with a loving, yet amused smile. “What?”

Michael pointed to his cheeks just below his eyes, that amused smile still present on his lips. “We’re matching.”

And surely enough, when Adam pulled his other hand, the one without the gold flecks, close to his face, a faint golden glow was reflected back against his skin. He didn’t need some sort of mirror to see it then as he immediately realised what he currently looked like. And then suddenly, the night lost its cool hold on the first man as that familiar mellow glow resettled inside his chest, staining his cheeks a warm pink. Though instead of his usual instinct of wishing to immediately withdraw himself from the situation, and perhaps it was due to the soothing cover of the night or maybe something entirely different, Adam instead preferred to stay as they both basked together under the golden lights. And so, following the guide of the mellow comfort within his chest, Adam pulled Michael towards him, peppering his cheeks with feather-light kisses as he felt the angel’s hands wrap around him in return, snuggling even closer to him. Under the glow of the light an angel made, the two spent the night together in each other’s calming embrace, lulling one another into restful sleep.

Even when the stars weren’t shining, and the darkness of the night was its peak, beside Adam was his own starry night, one that would never leave him in the dark.

Part 25

Part 27

[third-king-of-salmonids]

DUE TO JOEPHOBIA THEY SENT MY SHIRT TOO SMALL SO I HAD TO GIVE IT TO THUMBS CREATURE NOW I GOTTA FIND A DIFFERENT DISGUISE FOR THE HOT TOPIC AT SHORT NOTICE >:V

[necrotic-nephilim]

I started in DC by reading fanfics, but as I began to read actual comics, I started to be unable to read the actual fanfic that got me into it in the first place because it's so out of character.

But there are still some stories that I love to read because I love the found family trope so much, even if it isn't really accurate to the source material.

As a comics purist (sometimes), are there tropes that you like enough that you'll still enjoy a fic even if it's not accurate to canon?

oh my god this is SUCH a fun question. bc while i started with the comics, there were certain characters and/or character dynamics where i was exposed to the fanon before the canon (just bc it's hard to read everything when you start out just to read some fanfic) and so i've definitely experienced the fanon to canon transition. (*especially* with Jason Todd. i had only read 80s/90s stuff where he was already dead or the New-52 bc that was on-going when i got into comics and man. the fanon misunderstandings i had about him before i got frustrated and sat down to read all his pre-Flashpoint stuff were absolutely bonkers.) and aside from that, whilst i tend to prefer canon over fanon, i'm not past giving fanon its flowers for occasionally having really interesting insights. occasionally. so some of my fanon "guilty pleasure" tropes would probably be

Morally Grey Tim Drake - this is one where if you try to back it up with canon, i *will* get salty about it. of everyone in the Batfam aside from maybe Bruce and Cass, Tim has the *most* black and white morals. often his internal conflicts are routed in such an inability to compromise his moral views and it can cause him to clash with other characters. he's *very* stiff and rigid in his beliefs and is *rare* to compromise in even the smallest ways. i mean, DC has repeatedly used Tim Drake of Tomorrow/Savior/Gun Batman!Tim for a reason. it's to demonstrate that of everyone, Tim *cannot* have his morals compromised. there's no grey area for him. he's zero or a hundred, so if he tips over the edge of "too far" he tips *all the way*, and doing so is one of his worst fears, how he could go "too far" if he let himself. a couple panels out of context from Red Robin (2009) (which was a grief spiral for Tim to begin with) don't change that. now that said. if it's done *right*, i sort of love Tim being morally grey in fanfic. it takes a specific flavor for me, and it's incredibly important to include that mental spiral along with it, of him struggling to justify it. i don't have any interest in "Tim Drake is loosy goosy with Bruce's morals and has the highest kill count and no one knows teehee" bc it doesn't play with the interesting parts of making Tim morally grey, which are fracturing his psyche. but all in all, i think it's fun to put Tim in a morally grey area and i will read it in fanfic and i enjoy writing it a lot

Joker Junior!Tim Drake - i've not written it on this account (yet) but on my main ao3 account one of my biggest fics surrounds this concept. this is one of those "well *technically* it's canon but only in a specific very divorced from the comics universe and would not work at all in the main timeline" so, i categorize it as fanon in that 95% of fics exploring the concept are not doing so within the Batman Beyond universe, but the main timeline. i just love it. I'll take any excuse to whump Tim, but this concept is so fun. psychologically breaking Tim will always be my favorite pastime. there are so many ways to explore the long-term effects this could have on him, how it could affect the Batfam. i'm not a fan of it being used as a "gotcha" to Jason or Babs' trauma with the Joker to paint Tim as the Ultimate Victim, but it is fun to see how their relationships would be affected by being mutual victims of him. (i have a vague JayTim idea where TIm fully retires from being Robin after being Joker Junior and killing the Joker, making Steph Robin for most of his typical Robin era and Jason still tracks him down out of curiosity bc he wants to know what happened and all. very underbaked but i've got thoughts.)

Renegade/Apprentice of Slade!Dick Grayson - this is another one where yes, this happened *sort of* in canon, but i highly doubt most people writing Renegate!Dick have read or are actually pulling from Nightwing: Renegade. it's just an exploration fo the concept fo Dick being Slade's apprentice and i will always eat it up in any capacity. whether Dick grows up with Slade from a young age, or chooses Slade for whatever reason later in life. it's not anything that works in canon bc it compromises Dick morally (similar to the above with Tim) and therefore will always come across incredibly fanon in most fics. but i can't say i don't enjoy it. it's fun to make Dick a little morally fucked up and see what you can make him under Slade's tutelage.

Jason & Damian Meeting in the League -there's no world where i believe this could work in the canon comics. (maybe in the Young Justice cartoon i suppose, but even then i think it's iffy) i would go as far to say it's wildly unrealistic. i don't see a world where Ra's would let Jason anywhere *near* Damian, bc Jason was Talia's pet project that he didn't approve of. that all said, there's something very interesting about how they *could've* met and them potentially bonding during that timeframe. them being somewhat brotherly during this time because Jason sees Bruce in Damian and sort of latches onto the kid and Damian is full of wonder hearing real stories about Batman and Robin, then that getting violently ripped away by Jason leaving the League is fun to me. it's fun how that could affect them within the Batfam and all. it's super fanon to me, but i do not care. i will eat it up

Bad Dad Clark Kent/Good Dad Lex Luthor - i will admit as a late, i've been less and less kind to this particular fanon bc of everything i've argued with people about, *this* one seems the most pervasive as misunderstood fanon. i don't mind when fanon exists, my gripe is when ppl try to claim it's canon. and the *arguments* i've had over this with people who can never seem to cite an actual comic are... frustrating. but that said, i think there is something fun to this strictly in fanon. the duality of who you expect to accept Kon and who you expect to hurt him being flipped is just sort of fun for the occasional guilty pleasure fic. it can make Kon's internal conflict a bit more interesting. the same goes for the Jon favoritism from Clark, it's not a canon thing (and i rlly wish ppl understood how complicated the timeline of Kon and Jon is and any distance from Clark toward Kon isn't malice, it's that Kon is from a timeline that Clark does not remember in the current canon so Clark just straight up doesn't know the poor kid.) but it's sort of fun to give Kon that complex of being overlooked and forgotten sometimes. making Kon just a *bit* more Luthor than Kent will *always* appeal to me in fanfic, especially if he *knows* it's wrong but craves approval from anyone who will give it.

Good Dad Bruce Wayne - i'll die on the hill Bruce is canonically a shitty father. maybe not to the extreme some people write him as, but he's not great at it. that said, i enjoy it in fanfiction. sometimes, i just want silly fluff or hurt/comfort where Bruce finally gets it right and manages to comfort whatever Batkid is in the fic. one of my favorite fics of all time is hinged on Bruce being a good dad, so i think it's just fun to explore how good the relationships *could* be, if Bruce was slightly less of an asshole. i usually prefer him as an asshole, but there are times i want low stakes nonsense.

Gotham Rogues Having Soft Spots for Robin(s) - just about every Rogue in Gotham has done something absolutely irredeemable, and most of them don't like or care about anyone in the Batfamily. but if there's a fic where one of the Robins inexplicably is sort of close with a Rogue and they have a cute silly relationship out of it? I'll eat it up i fear. Steph and the Riddler are besties? I'll believe it. Tim and Scarecrow get along pretty well? give me ten of these. Rogues protecting Robins just hits a spot. the unexpected nature of the relationship, as well as the fact they see each other regularly, can make a lot of good fodder.

[macadam]

Throwback to when someone referred to me as the matpat of transformers

[shinakazami1]

Man,,, I played a bit of Borderlands 3 and I gotta say. ZanexRhys. I get it. I finally get it

[kaleidochimera]

I keep thinking of how I want to taxonomize Siffrin and Loop bc it feels significant to me that Loop and Siffrin both have inherently diverged from the same Traveler Mold they came from. But because I am like a 7 year old I keep sagely nodding to myself going "ah yes... just like mega mewtwo"

[novadreii]

i can hardly put into words how grateful i am to have regained the use of my brain in the past 6 months or so. before that, i struggled with terrible brain fog that persisted for years, making me feel i had a fishbowl popped on top of my head 24/7. i spent what limited brainpower i had trying to root out a cause from my diet. but it turns out that the culprit was a lethal combination of unhealed childhood trauma, as well as the stress and chronic insomnia from being in a relationship with a neglectful and inconsistent partner.

did you know that stress and trauma physically shrink your hippocampus (responsible for learning, memory) and increase the size of your amygdala (responsible for survival and fear responses)? my hippocampus must have been the size of a fucking pea, and my amygdala a baseball. i was basically a feral cat.

since quite literally fleeing that situation, i've been militant about therapy and taking care of myself: exercise, eating right, 8 hours of sleep per night without exception, and keeping my stress low. contrary to all the advice i've ever received before my current therapist, aside from occasional socializing with my extremely small circle of family and friends (whom i love dearly and who've all really rallied to support me through the shitstorm my life was earlier this year), i've fully indulged my love of solitude and being a homebody.

that, instead of shaming myself and pushing myself to be social when i don't feel like it, which is often. my mother used to do that plenty when i was a kid, because as a giant extrovert herself, it pained and disappointed her greatly to have a daughter who preferred to read in her room all day. i've finally learned how to decouple my inner voice from hers and it has brought me the freedom to just...be who i am.

throughout all this i started noticing that i'd wake up with a clear brain, once in a while. it'd come and go at first, but now, as long as i keep to the regimen of caring for myself like i am my first priority, a concept apparently completely foreign to me up until recently, the clarity is here most days. i'll have an occasionally foggy day, but it's usually easy to trace the cause to shit sleep or food.

the ability to not feel like i'm existing behind 2 inches of foggy glass day in and day out is everything to me. to understand people as they're talking to me. to not have to read a sentence 10 times over to glean its meaning. to enjoy learning again. this used to bring me so much pain and sadness, feeling like i'd lost the use of what i consider to be my greatest asset, feeling like i'm stupid when i know i'm not. i have a bachelor's degree in business with straight As to prove it!

having to go through it and knowing that certain people in my life were not taking me seriously and thinking that i was just being lazy and unambitious. it made me want to fucking scream. but i never lost hope that just like most problems, there was a solution. i was just not seeing it. i needed a different perspective.

i'm currently taking an online chemistry class just for fun. next up is going to be "astronomy: exploring time and space", then probably a cyber security intro class and some data science classes to refresh what i learned in university. i'm having fun learning again!!!! i am quite literally crying writing this, because while i always remained hopeful, there was a small part of me that was scared that this would just be my life from now on. i'm so fucking grateful.

[simcardiac-arrested]

as a russian who doesn't talk to russian people online what the shit is happening there hello

look man i myself have put in the effort to Not talk to online russians for like (checks hand) 7 or so years (of course i’ve met some really great ones but this isn’t about them and they probably know it) but i’m sure the community didn’t change much. actually from the glimpses i see it seems to have gotten worse. don’t even get me startedddddd man