#to save the other's life multiple times and know that they'd do the same?

[resurgentclass-stardestroyer]

If I ever actually finish this giant Hitaka fic in my drafts it's so over for me

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Hi it's me again 😔 kinktober req perchance?

Steve Harrington with sex pollen prompt? I don't know suthn freaky with the demodog lair keeps popping up in mind. Sorry to keep bombarding you with requests HAHAH hope you're well :>

- 🌝

it's not a problem, I love all the requests you send me 🥰 this reminded me that I've never actually written somthing for him before, which is kind of crazy?? that being said I love this idea and hope it turned out okay, I wrote this with a transmasc reader too since you asked for one with your other kinktober request. thanks for sending something in <3

(also just a disclaimer creative liberties were taken when writing this so the story would flow better and the plot would make more sense)

Kinktober 2024 Day 12: sex pollen with Steve Harrington x transmasc reader

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, sex pollen, slight bondage via tentacles, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (please use condoms irl), brief implied Nancy x Robin

The Upside Down was like something out of horrific nightmare. It gave a glimpse into what life would be like if Vecna was able to take things over, which why it was crucial for your plan to destroy his physical form to work.

After wandering through the disturbing woods for what seemed like forever, you finally managed to come across the place you were looking for. Dustin and Eddie warded off the hellish bats, which gave you, Steve, Nancy, and Robin the opportunity of doing your part by searching for Vecna.

Creel House was even more eerie and disturbing in the alternate dimension, which certainly didn't help to ease your already spiked nerves in the slightest. The vines (or tentacles, rather) that were covering the floor made things even worse, because you knew if you made one wrong move they'd be on you in an instant.

While the tentacles in the lair were gross looking, they were also strangely erotic, from their length and girth to the squelching noises they made as they moved around. You tried to keep your thoughts as clean and sex-free as possible as you carefully manuevered yourself over and around them, hopping from one place to another as you did your best not to fall.

Our goal is destroying Vecna and saving Hawkins, you reminded yourself every time your mind started slipping into the gutter. Not fraternizing with what looks like a bunch of over-sized sex toys.

Everything seemed to be going as planned until something started to shake the house, causing what could only be described as some kind of mini earthquake. Naturally, this disturbed the tentacles, which led them to attack.

Some of them grabbed Robin and began dragging her in one direction while others grabbed Steve and dragged him the opposite way. You and Nancy split, her chasing after Robin at the same time you were trying to grab Steve.

"Steve!" You cried out in a panic, using your makeshift spear to stab at the tentacles in hopes it would injure them enough to let him go. They writhed around in agony at the feeling, though you noticed when you stabbed them they started to give off this sickeningly sweet type of odor.

Thinking nothing of it, you kept stabbing, hoping it would be enough to get them to let him go. Eventually they were hacked up to the point where they were far too weak to keep him restrained, forcing them to loosen their grip.

"Are you okay?" You asked while helping him up, noting that he seemed to be a little dizzy, which was odd given that he hadn't really done anything to warrant feeling lightheaded.

"Y- Yeah, I think so," he breathlessly responded, his eyes looking a little cloudy for some reason when you looked at them.

Before you could question him further, you began to feel dizzy yourself, your own vision blurring as a rush of heat spread through your body and buried itself deep within you. The only thing you could seem to focus on at that moment was Steve. His body, his eyes, his voice-

It was then that you realized what was going on. Whatever it was the tentacles sprayed you with must've included some kind of aphrodisiac that was absorbed through the skin, which meant-

Oh, God. Now was really not the time for this of all things to be happening.

"Steve," you began in a slightly shaky voice. He picked up on your nervous tone in an instant, though it was hard for him to think properly when he was going through the same physical reactions you were.

"I- I think we should do something about this," he suggested, his voice low and sultry without even meaning to be. Or maybe that was just you hearing things due to your sudden burst of horniness.

"We can't, we have to go do something about Vecna," you lightly protested, although you knew it was no use. Your legs had grown shaky and weak, causing you to cling onto him for support.

In the meantime, the tentacles had come back while you were both distracted, though they didn't seem nearly as hostile as before. If anything, they were docile, almost affectionate, as if the scent they'd left behind on you make them much more peaceful. Despite this, their intentions weren't entirely innocent, as they'd started to travel up your body, searching for the warmth of your arousal.

"I really don't think we have much of a choice," Steve remarked, his cock already painfully hard in his pants. You weren't faring much better, as your underwear was practically soaked by now.

"As- As long as we're quick about it," was all you could manage to get out before your mouth met his in desperation, your hands moving to grab at his clothes as you pressed your body as close to his as possible.

He was just as eager, his hands finding their way to your hips in a need for contact. Even if you wanted to pull away, you couldn't, as the tentacles had now fully wrapped themselves around you. It wasn't enough to stop your blood flow or anything like that, but you were definitely unable to go anywhere as they'd successfully restricted your movements.

"Oh, Steve," you moaned out his name as his lips traveled down your neck, your fingers lacing through his hair. Every touch the two of you shared seemed to leave behind sparks, his mouth feeling like a red hot iron that was branding your skin.

Somehow during this, you'd moved down onto the floor, the tentacles seeming to swaddle you as you did. Your clothes were quickly pulled off and discarded as the both of you became more and more needy, your actions bordering on primal. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving visible scratches going down his back at the same time that his teeth sunk into the tender flesh of your shoulder.

By the time his cock had finally found its way to your aching hole, you were already dripping wet, like a faucet that hadn't been turned off properly. The mixed sounds of your combined pleasure filled the air as he sunk deep within you, your back arching up off the ground as you threw your head back.

It was hard to tell how long you were there for. It could've been seconds, it could've been hours. You were much too focused on the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you at an animalistic pace to be sure.

Orgasm after orgasm tore through your body, and if you weren't so caught up in the moment you would've recognized this for what it really was: a distraction to keep you away from finding Vecna and destroying him. Eventually, however, both you and Steve began to run out of steam, the combination of exhaustion and overstimulation getting to you.

Beads of sweat covered your body, your eyes hooded as you felt him empty yet another load of his sticky seed inside you. Neither of you were thinking clearly enough to remember that it'd be better if he didn't cum inside you, which left you feeling abnormally full.

It took everything in him not to collapse on top of you once he was finally finished, his limbs looking as weak and shaky as yours were. A quiet whimper exited you when he pulled out, his cock softening again after what seemed like ages.

He slowly helped you get redressed, and you helped him do the same, trying to be careful so you wouldn't disturb the pile of tentacles that laid nearby. They'd become bored after the second or third round and had taken to leaving you alone, but you still didn't want to risk waking them back up again.

You stumbled out of the room you'd been in as you went to reconvene with Robin and Nancy, who looked as though they'd been through the exact same thing you had. Their clothes were wrinkled, their hair was messed up, and you could see a few hickeys peeking out of the collar of their shirts. You had no doubt you and Steve looked about the same.

Nancy awkwardly cleared her throat, avoiding eye contact as she shifted back and forth on her feet. "So, uh- should we...?" She gestured towards the staircase, to which Steve nodded his head in response.

"Yeah, let's."

The four of you began to make your way through the house yet again, a certain kind of tension in the air full of unasked questions with equally unspoken answers. None of you decided to say what had taken you so long to meet up again, and you didn't need to. It was fairly obvious.

Who knew the Upside Down could bring you as much pleasure as it could fear?

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | Stranger Things masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

Kinktober 2024 masterlist | Kinktober 2024 info post/prompt list

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @elenavampire21 @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @defstr8bl0nd13 @theonetruepotato87 @caplanreblogsfics @merlinbtch (if you're crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)

[sopebubbles]

Master List

Twelve

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: Yoongi takes you on a date

Warnings: slight angst (mostly talking about her past), mentions of past abuse, homelessness, fear of abandonment

Honestly yall its a lot of yoongi and oc being freakin soft 😩

Yoongi was only slightly disappointed to find you awake and making breakfast with Hobi in the kitchen when he came in after eight in the morning. He'd kind of been hoping to be able to take a peek at you in your nest, just to see for himself that you were as safe and cozy as his other omega had promised (many times) that you were last night. Although he hadn't been gripped by the same agonizing fear he had known for the month you were gone, he still hated being away from you so long last night, and he'd texted both Jimin and Hoseok multiple times last to assuage his anxiety (and his guilt). They'd promised him that you had nested just fine, had eaten well and seemed perfectly happy with Jimin's company before peacefully going to sleep. It was cute just how much he worried about the details. 

"Yoongi!" You said his name brightly when you saw him and rushed over to give him a hug. You were too energized from a good night's sleep and the cup of fresh squeezed orange juice Taehyung gave you to be self conscious about it. You didn't seem to notice the flour on your cheek until Yoongi brushed it off with a smile. "Oh sorry. I'm probably getting you dirty," you said as you tried to pull away. He held you close. 

"I don't mind. Good morning," he hummed as he rubbed his chin over the top of your head. 

"M-morning." Yoongi's arms tightening around you turned to jelly when you'd been solid only moments ago. 

How can he be so warm? He must be tired and hungry.

"Can I get you some pancakes?" You offered, and he finally loosened his hold.

"Only if you eat some with me. Have you eaten yet?" 

You shook your head. "But I need to help Hobi."

The omega waved a hand at you without looking back. "I can handle it. If your alpha says eat, then it's time to eat. Which you know. She kept saying she didn't want to eat until you got here," he added just to make you squirm. A small whine escaped your throat, drawing the attention of all the men, whether they intended to look your way or not. "Careful, girl. Your whines have power here," Hobi smirked as he set two plates in front of you and Yoongi on the counter. 

You sat down and ate quietly for a few minutes while Yoongi tried and failed to pretend he was paying more attention to the food than to you. Jin and Jungkook were laying on the couch, nearly falling back asleep after stuffing themselves before anyone else got up. Jimin had gotten up to take your place helping Hobi while Taehyung and Namjoon sat at the table sharing the newspaper. 

"What do you want to do today?" Yoongi asked after several minutes. 

You swallowed and cleared your throat. "I have to work later."

Yoongi's fork froze halfway to his mouth. "What? why?"

You shrugged. "I work Saturdays."

"You work six hours a day, six days a week?" You nodded. "That's too much."

"I-I thought you d-didn't mind me working…"

Screwed it up already. Now you'll see how he really feels. The pancakes in your stomach turned to lead. 

Yoongi could see you getting nervous, watched you grow even smaller. "No. No, I don't," he managed, forcing his voice to be calm. "I don't mind you working if it's what you want.  But that's a lot. Thirty-six hours is almost full time but no benefits. That just seems…sketchy."

You tilted your head at him. "What do you mean?"

"Just that it seems like your employer is taking advantage of you. Do you get any benefits?"

"Well, I get heat leave."

"But what about health insurance? Vacation? Extended sick leave? What if you get pregnant?" Yoongi could feel all the air leave the room and wished he could take the words back.

You shook you head and spoke softly, "Yoongi, I'm not–"

"I know. I didn't mean that. I'm an idiot. I swear I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying, those are things you'd expect in a full-time job."

You shrugged. "It's not like I have a lot of options, Yoongi."

"I know," he sighed. "I just want you to be treated fairly."

You stood from your stool and walked toward the stairs. "People like me don't get treated fairly."

Yoongi got up and followed you, catching your arm as gently as he could. "I'm sorry. For what I said and how I said it. I know that you've been doing the best you could, and I have no right to judge that. Everything is okay." His hand laid hot against your neck, thumb stroking just the bottom edge of your scent gland. When he felt your shoulders relax, so did his. "Come finish your breakfast, and when you're ready I'll take you to work."

You turned worried eyes up at him. "You worked so hard, alpha. You must be tired. I'll finish, but then you need to go to sleep. Jimin and Tae will take me."

The corners of Yoongi's mouth turned up in a placating smile. "Okay."

He watched you walk back to your seat at the counter and pick up your fork, ignoring the eyes of the others as he joined you. He wanted to talk it through with you more, but he wasn't going to make you do it in front of everyone, and he didn't want to get into an argument before you went to work all day. Instead, he asked you how your night was and what you did the day before, and you plastered on a smile that slowly became more natural while you told him all about nesting and your newfound love of pillows.

When you'd both finished eating, you took your plates and washed them along with the others, no matter what Hobi said. You couldn't sit down and relax now. Doing so would only create nervous energy you wouldn't be able to dispel. You'd have to spend the rest of your day in motion. Yoongi followed you again when you went up the stairs to change for work, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a little annoying.

At the top of the stairs you turned to look at him. "Are you going to follow me around all day?" You snapped. 

Yoongi took a step back. He honestly didn't even realize how close he was. "I'm sorry. I wasn't intending to." He rubbed a hand over his eyes and you could see how tired he was. 

You crossed your arms over your chest. "What are you doing?"

He sighed. "I was going to sleep like you'd suggested. I think I was following you because…"

He wants to sleep in my nest. 

The realization dawned on both of you. "It's not time yet," you said softly, but eased your defensive stance. 

Yoongi met your eyes with equal tenderness and smiled a little. "Yet?"

"Yet," you confirmed.

Somehow the idea that there was a future nest he would be invited into was enough for him. "That's alright."

You turned on your heel to walk to your room, but he called you back. "Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?"

"A date?"

"Yeah. If you don't have any plans."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

He chuckled. "Well, I told you we could date as part of our courtship, and I would like to get to know you better."

"But…" you looked at him with an expression of such utter confusion that he wished he had a camera to document it. 

"But what?"

"I just…I don't want you to force yourself to take me on a date if you aren't attracted to me."

It was Yoongi's turn to be utterly lost. "Whatever gave you the idea that I'm not attracted to you? I'm your alpha."

"Yeah, I know, but I feel like you're just doing this, taking me in because you want to protect me, because I'm so helpless and pathetic. And you were so cool about not breeding me. Plus you have all the guys, and so I just guessed you weren't thinking of me that way." You wilted under Yoongi's amused gaze. 

He snorted. "Princess, I do want to protect you because you are incredibly vulnerable, but that doesn't change my attraction to you one bit. And there's a whole world of intimacy between protecting you and breeding you. It's vast and we should go slow, but a date is a good start. That is, unless you aren't attracted to me."

Blood rushed to your face as you felt put on the spot. What kind of omega wouldn't be attracted to the alpha he was? What person wouldn't fall for his gentle, caring demeanor? But you couldn't possibly admit to it.

Yoongi stepped closer to mark the top of your head with his scent. The embrace only lasted a few seconds before he pulled away, but it still left you weak in the knees.

"I don't have anything to wear."

Yoongi shrugged. "It will be very casual. No one will see you but me. You can wear pajamas for all I care. Bonus points if you wear one of my hoodies."

You smiled at that thought. "Okay then."

"Good. Then I'll see you tonight," he told you before he turned and went into the pack bedroom to sleep. 

Yoongi was pleasantly surprised to find an apple-scented pillow in his usual spot and let himself enjoy it for a few minutes before his memory from last night came back to him. 

He had brought a patient to the emergency room of the hospital he had brought your ex-alpha to a few nights ago. After they filled out some paperwork, Yoongi and his partner took a break. His motivation was unclear, even at the time, but he found out what room the alpha was staying in from a nurse that liked to talk to him whenever she got the chance. She told him that he was still in the ICU, but that he was in a coma, and hadn't woken up since the night he was brought in. When he found the room, there was a woman inside. A tall redhead, an alpha as well, if Yoongi wasn't mistaken, so he steered clear, but it had stuck with him the rest of the night.

When he heard you, Jimin and Taehyung leave the house, Yoongi got out of bed and went to the living room where Jin and Jungkook were still on the couch.

"Is everything okay, Yoongi?" Jin asked when the alpha only stood over them without saying a word. 

"I need to ask you some questions. Legal questions," he clarified and sat on the coffee table opposite them. 

"What's on your mind, hyung?" Jungkook sat up to give him his full attention. 

"I found out last night that her ex-alpha–"

"His name is Sebastián," Jungkook added. 

Yoongi growled. "He's in a coma. And I just need to know what's going to happen to her if he never wakes up. And I guess, what happens if he does?"

Jin sat up and shared a look with Jungkook before he spoke. "If he doesn't wake up, there would most likely be a grand jury investigation, which would determine who, if anyone, was responsible for his death."

"In that case, the blame would likely fall on the driver, since she has already been charged with drunk driving. It would be manslaughter," Jungkook added. 

"But she said she pushed him, in her statement. That won't matter?"

Jin shook his head doubtfully. "She could get charged, but in my experience, if you put that girl in front of any judge or jury, there's no way they wouldn't chalk it up to self defense. If he does survive, it wouldn't even make sense to press charges for assault. He wouldn't look very sympathetic. But whether or not she's charged criminally, if he dies, his family could bring a wrongful death suit to civil court. But again, it will be hard to make her look like a perpetrator, especially since they're both Lykos."

"You seem confident that she'll be okay?"

"I am," Jin assured him. 

"But what if she had a motive?" Yoongi worried. 

"You mean because they knew each other?" Yoongi nodded. Jin thought it over, rubbing his finger along his lower lip. "The prosecution would have to prove she meant to push him into traffic and not just to get him off of her. In that case, she'd just need to be coached not to take the bait."

"Could you do it? Would you take the case? If it came to that, I mean." Yoongi didn't know any other lawyers, and he certainly didn't know any he thought he could trust with something like this more than Jin. 

He must have been able to read that emotion in Yoongi's eyes because Jin nodded. He wouldn't take that trust for granted again. "If she needs me to, of course, Yoongi. I'll do anything for you."

You were surprised when Yoongi said he was taking you to a drive in theater. You'd hardly been to any movie theaters at all in your life, and never a drive-in, but you liked the idea of it. There were lots of benefits to it. You got to go out to a public place, but sitting in his car was relatively private. The movie removed the pressure to make conversation, but on the other hand, if the movie wasn't very interesting, you could talk through it without disturbing anyone else. It was really a perfect idea for a first date. 

He'd urged you to take a nap when you got home since the movie wouldn't start until later, and you were glad you'd taken his advice. You didn't have much to choose from when it came to clothing options, so you simply put on a clean pair of jeans and the mustard yellow hoodie he had loaned you a few days ago. Yoongi seemed pleased enough with your ensemble, repeating his compliment of how nice you looked in that color. He wasn't dressed up at all either, wearing a pair of ordinary jeans and a baggy long sleeve shirt. You wouldn't know it because he wouldn't say such a thing, but there wasn't anything you could wear that would look more appealing to him than his own clothes, because they made you look like you were his. He beamed at you when you came down the stairs to leave with him. 

"Do I look okay?" You whispered to Hoseok. 

He pinched your cheek. "You look adorable. He loves it. Believe me." He winked at Yoongi over your head and the alpha held out his hand to take you to the car. "Don't come home too early," he instructed as you went out the door together. 

Once you got settled in the front seat, Yoongi cleared his throat before he started the engine. "This is for you," he said as he handed you a brand new Samsung phone.

"Oh, I–"

"Before you say you don't need it, just consider that it's for me. I want you to make sure that you have it with you and it's on all the time. I told you that it's important for me to know where you are, so I can keep you safe, so you need a phone. And don't worry, it's not like the newest model or anything. Besides, remember you're agreed to let me provide for you. So just accept it. It has all of the pack's numbers saved already, in case you ever need one of them, and they all have your number already. I'm your emergency contact," he rambled.

Instead of offering any protest you smiled softly and unbuckled your seat belt to lean over and kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, alpha," you said before you leaned back into your spot. You may have wanted to refuse, but he was right, it was for him and not you, not really. If he needed you to carry this thing around in order to feel more secure, that shouldn't be hard for you. 

You weren't prepared for more gifts when you got to the drive-in. When you found a spot to park, Yoongi told you to wait while he got out of the car and went to the trunk. You looked anxiously through the back window, but couldn't see anything that gave away what he was doing. Eventually he pushed a large gift bag and picnic basket through his open car door before he joined you again. 

"What's all this?" You wondered, looking at the tissue paper sticking out of the huge bag at your eye level.

"Why don't you open it and see?" He teased. 

You narrowed your eyes at him as you got up on your knees to be able to look over the bag, but your scrutiny only made him smile. Pulling out the paper piece by piece revealed two soft round pillows inside, one lavender and one orange.

"I figured you needed some pillows for your nest. I thought these could remind you of me and Jiminie."

Your cheeks and your eyes burned as you pulled out the two pillows, almost ball-like except for how plush they were. They squeezed nicely in your arms when you held them to your chest.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Yoongi asked, beginning to feel nervous when you didn't say anything. 

You buried your head in them to hide your wet eyes. "They're perfect." Your words were muffled, but they still warmed Yoongi's heart. When you collected yourself, you placed the pillows safely back in the bag and set it aside. "What's in the basket?"

"Oh, I asked Hobi to put together some snacks for us. But if there are any other treats you want, I'll go get something from the concession stand." Yoongi opened the top of the basket and you both reached for the box of raisinets at the same time. You whispered an apology while Yoongi plucked them out. He opened the box and handed it to you. "I'm going to go get some popcorn. Do you have a drink preference?" 

You shook your head and he got out once again to go get more snacks. You shoved a few raisinets into your mouth and put the rest away. Then you pulled out the soft orange pillow from the gift bag at your feet and held it close again. You wondered if he'd already scented it, or if it was your imagination that applied the orange aroma. 

The longer he was gone, your mind began to wander. It was hard not to think about all the first things you were experiencing lately. Your very first completely safe, self- made nest, your first drive-in movie, your first date. It had felt like you'd been living for years, in the most raw way possible, but maybe all you'd done was survive, and only barely. These new things seemed so small and insignificant to you when they were only abstract ideas, things you would live without because you didn't need them to survive, but now they felt monumentally important as each one carved a memory in your heart. And each one was available to you only because of Yoongi.

The man at the center of your thoughts broke through them when he returned several minutes later carrying a large bucket of popcorn, which he handed to you, and a large coke that he balanced on the dashboard. 

"Is everything okay?" He asked, taking in your expression, which remained pensive as he settled into his seat. 

You forced a smile, not because you weren't feeling it, but because it wasn't a thing you were accustomed to showing. "I'm fine. I…" you searched for something to say that would take you away from your thoughts. "I didn't even ask what we were seeing."

Yoongi chuckled at himself. "Oh. Yeah. It's actually a horror movie. I was actually hoping we could see the comedy that's playing on the other screen, but it was sold out, so this one was left. But if you don't like horror movies, I was thinking we could just sit and talk. Or we could leave. Or if we're really bored we could turn on the radio station for the comedy and watch it with the horror scenes."

You laughed at his ridiculous idea, but thought it actually sounded kind of fun. "Well, I do like horror movies, but option three also sounds interesting," you admitted with a smile that almost stopped his heart. 

Yoongi cleared his throat as he looked out the window. "There's still like twenty or thirty minutes before the sun sets and the movie starts. Maybe we can still talk?" 

You began to get the feeling that this was what he actually wanted to begin with. He had said he wanted to get to know you, and you supposed he had a right to know the person he was taking in, but at the same time you didn't want to overwhelm him with all of your baggage, at least not in one night. 

"What do you want to talk about?" You hedged, shoving a kernel of popcorn past your lips. 

"Well, I just really want to know more about you, but I don't want to be unfair, so you can ask me anything you want to," he offered, turning in his seat to look at you. 

"I don't know what I could tell you that Jungkook hasn't already. I mean, he must have run a background check on me, right? And he would have told you before he let you take me home?"

Yoongi shook his head. "Jungkook hasn't really said much, actually. I mean, yeah, we do know about, um, where you were before you came to the city," he said diplomatically. 

"You mean jail?" You asked provocatively. "You can say it. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, which I understand." You knew you shouldn't be getting your hackles up with him. He approached the subject gently and here you were, striking back with your claws out like the alley cat that you were. You closed your eyes to try to calm your racing heart.

He placed a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, it's okay. I'm not judging you. No one in the pack is, either. You're not the only person to get arrested, you know."

You opened your eyes and looked at him incredulously. "Have you been arrested?"

Yoongi nodded his head. "When I was sixteen. A friend and I stole his uncle's car and went for a joy ride. I was just a passenger, and I hadn't presented yet. They dropped the charges."

"Wow, grand theft auto," you chuckled and he did too.

"My point is, we all have a past. I mean, some of us more than others, but you're not the only one."

You eyed him uncertainly. "Did he tell you what I was arrested for? I wasn't just arrested Yoongi. I spent six months in county."

Yoongi nodded. "I know, but I'm not judging you for what you had to do."

You shook your head with a wry laugh. "That's the thing. I didn't do it. I mean yeah, she made me go out there, but I promise you I didn't sell my body. Honest. That was my first night. I may have been naive, but I'm not an idiot. The first guy I talked to was a cop, and I knew it. I could spot him easy, so I offered myself up and I let him arrest me. And when they charged me, I pleaded guilty. Do you know why?" Yoongi shook his head, dark eyes locked on yours. "Because going to jail was better than going back to my alphas."

Yoongi kept his face neutral despite the anger he felt bubbling below the surface of his skin. He'd never ever question your decision, but he would always feel angry that your situation was so bad that jail seemed like a viable alternative for you. 

"You said alphas?" He questioned when he managed to speak. 

"Two of them," you said with a nod.

"And one of them was female?"

"Yeah, they were husband and wife."

"How did you meet them? I mean…he's so much older."

You grabbed the coke from the dashboard and took a long drink to clear the lump in your throat. Yoongi's eyes never left you, but you tried to ignore him. "I met her first. I was on the streets. I was almost seventeen by then, but I'd been on my own for months. She just started talking to me one day when she was volunteering at a soup kitchen…offered me a place to stay. And I was desperate enough to not question it."

"So she just…took you in off the streets?" You nodded. "And then what?" He asked as if your story was the one he had bought a ticket for tonight.

"And then…and then everything seemed normal for like a week. They just seemed like a regular couple. They had a spare room and they needed help around the house, so I would clean and take care of the house in exchange for living there. It was several days before I realized they actually wouldn't let me leave. I hadn't really been on heat suppressants yet, and when that time came around I found out that the real reason they wanted me was because they wanted babies. They couldn't have any on their own, so they would use me. Like some fucked up puppy mill," you choked out.

Yoongi reached over to pat your back, but you flinched away from him, and he could understand that you wanted your space after such a revelation. He took his hand back and tried to think of something to say when all he wanted to do was rage on your behalf.  But he knew it wouldn't do you any good. "It makes sense that you were so frightened when two other strangers took you off the street. You must have been very scared."

You looked him straight in the eyes. "It's only been a few days. Shouldn't I still be scared?"

It wounded Yoongi deeply that you felt that way, but he could hardly blame you. He knew it wasn't about him exactly. "I'm sorry. I know there isn't really anything I could say to reassure you that you're safe with me but–"

"It's okay, Yoongi. I do feel safe with you. It's different. The way I feel when I think about you. When I'm near you…I feel safe but…" you looked out at the narrowing strip of pink sky to your left. 

"But what?"

"I've been taken in so many times when I think I'm at my lowest. When I was abandoned as a baby, when I met those other alphas, when Eli came to play big brother. And never, never has any of it actually made me safe."

"I hope–" Yoongi could feel the tears at his water line, but they would stay there. He bit his lip and looked away as well. "I hope you'll stay long enough to know that you will be safe in our home."

You looked back at him finally and noticed the collar of his unbuttoned button-down shirt was crooked. Reaching over to straighten it, you assured him, "as long as you keep it safe for me, I won't have anywhere else to go."

Yoongi took your wrist gently before you had the chance to pull away from him. With his fingertips against your pulse point, he could feel the strong, steady beat of your heart, not high enough to be panicking, but still a little anxious. "I will do everything I can to make you feel safe," he promised.

Before you could make any kind of response, the lights over the parking lot shut off and images began to play on the screen in front of you. Without another word, Yoongi released you in order to fiddle with the radio, tuning it to the right station for your movie. You both settled back into the seat, facing the screen, with a mountain of snacks in between you. You each tried your best to focus on the movie, but you could feel it every time his eyes slid toward you as he watched your profile instead of the characters on screen. Every time you turned to look at him he recentered his attention, but he was fooling no one. Several times your hands brushed when you both reached into the popcorn for a salty snack, and he would chuckle awkwardly before pulling away. 

You both tried to focus on the movie, but the truth was that it did nothing to hold your attention, not with Yoongi right beside you.

"There's something I don't understand," you said abruptly, causing Yoongi to look quickly between you and the huge screen. The movie had been pretty straight forward, to the point of being pretty boring. 

"What?"

"Why do you like me? Why me?" Yoongi laughed openly while you pouted. You pulled your feet under you and turned to face him straight on, giving up any pretense of watching the movie. "Don't laugh. I'm serious. I mean. I don't know. I guess I'm trying to understand your intentions because I want to believe that this won't be like before but I…I'm scrawny and dumb and there's nothing interesting about me. I'm not even pretty enough to make up for it all. And there are plenty of needy omegas in this city. So what could you possibly want me for?"

Yoongi's humor subsided, and he turned the radio down before moving to face you as well. His expression was serious but his eyes still held light. He reached over to brush back your hair so he could see your face in the scattered light from the projector. 

"I don't think attraction is ever really about those things. Not how someone looks or what they have to say, but how those things resonate with you. It's an elemental, a chemical thing. I just like you. Maybe that's why Hobi and Jin think we're fated mates."

"Fated mates?"

"I don't know. It's kind of…lykos folklore. Sort of what saps think of as soulmates. Like, it just feels right with someone, like you're linked to them even though there's no real reason. There's no proof that it's real. It's just a feeling I guess. But they say it only happens with alphas and omegas. And I don't think I believe it. I don't know if you feel that. But I do feel drawn to you in a way that I never have with anyone else. I don't even think attraction is the right word. I just feel like…I need to be with you."

Yoongi's eyes never left your face while he talked and you didn't realize you were holding your breath until he stopped and you inhaled so you could answer him. "Maybe that's why my omega wants me to trust you even though everything else tells me not to. Like, I should be terrified of you, but I'm just not. I just want to be good so that I can stay."

You didn't know you were leaning toward him, nor were you fully aware of the words you spoke or how they made Yoongi's heart race, but when he brushed his fingers along your cheekbone you suddenly leaned back, blinking rapidly to regain your composure.

Yoongi coughed and pulled his hand away, reaching for candy to occupy his fingers. "I guess I should be honest with you about my intentions," he said with a shrug. "Because I know they aren't entirely altruistic."

You swallowed, but kept your eyes on him. His words made you nervous, but you'd hardly call it fear. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe it's a little dark. Or maybe all alphas feel this way. I always knew I was an alpha before presentation, because I always wanted people to depend on me. I always wanted to be in charge, to be a provider, to have the people in my life need me even more than they wanted me. In a way, the attraction I have, the love I have for the others, that's the unbelievable thing. With Jimin, with you, I felt from the first time I met each of you that you needed me. You wouldn't survive without me. And I liked that. Do you think that's kind of sick?" He wondered. You couldn't tell if he wanted an answer, or if he wanted you to be a little bit scared. But still you didn't feel it.

I don't think I will survive without you, your inner self echoed. 

You reached out to him, let your fingers graze the back of his hand. "I'm not sure. I'm not the best judge of what's normal and what's not. But it sounds right to me. I think to myself sometimes, I don't know how I've survived this long. I should be dead. Omegas…we aren't built to make it on our own. Sometimes it seemed like my death was right around the corner, but I don't feel that way anymore. The last two days have felt like the safest days of my whole life," you admitted. 

Yoongi's chest felt tight, like his heart would burst through his ribs if you kept talking. He turned his palm up so he could slot his fingers through yours. You sat in silence for a moment, letting him hold your hand while he tried to keep his breathing steady. 

"I don't understand why you're not pack alpha. Is it because Seokjin makes more money?" You wondered after a minute as you brushed back his chin length hair with your fingers. 

Yoongi chuckled. "If we're getting technical, Taehyung makes the most money in the pack."

Your eyes bulged in surprise. "But I thought Tae didn't work."

"He doesn't have a job in the strictest sense, but reclusive artists are often the most sought after. His paintings sell for a high price tag to collectors."

You hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe I picked the wrong alpha." 

Yoongi tugged on your hand playfully, making you giggle. "I always wanted to be a pack alpha. When I was younger I tried to establish my own pack but…it just wasn't right. I didn't have a lot to offer back then. I've never had Jin's resources. And then I met his pack, and I felt very comfortable with them. It was easy to fall in love with each of them so quickly. But they were already complete before me. I felt surprised they even wanted me. So I let go of that dream. It's been over five years now."

"But then you met Jimin, right? Did you think about starting a pack with him? On your own, I mean?"

Yoongi shrugged. "An alpha and a beta isn't much of a pack. You can make a pack without a beta, but without an omega? What's the point?" He looked at you through his eyelashes, but then quickly away. "Besides, Jimin and I both always wanted a big pack, and he clicked with Jungkook and Taehyung right away. It would have been selfish to take him away just because I wanted to be in charge."

"You're my pack alpha though," you murmured, sending a shiver down Yoongi's spine. He could only nod. "Good."

He lets his eyes close and for a minute you just watch him breathe steadily, happy that he seems content with you. But as seconds slip by you begin to feel that it might not be enough. Maybe it was silly, but you felt so much closer to him after all you'd both said, and holding his hand wasn't physically close enough anymore.

"I'm kind of cold," you told him quietly, taking him from his thoughts. 

"I can turn on the heat," he offered, letting go of your hand and reaching for the ignition. 

"Or maybe you could just hold me?"

The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. He helped you move all the snacks to the backseat of the impala and moved closer so you met in the middle. You huddled into his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you legs over his. You let out a quiet, happy sigh you hoped he didn't notice. 

"If you wanted to cuddle all you had to do was say so," he whispered to the top of your head. 

You turned your face into his shoulder. "I'm working on it," you mumbled. 

He smiled and ran his fingers through your hair, dragging his fingernails gently against your scalp. "You're doing great, princess."

You made a noise Yoongi wouldn't only describe as grumpy and turned your face up at him. "Why do you call me that?"

"Because that's what I want you to feel like. Because princesses have everything they need provided for. And because you're special just because you're you. But if you don't like it, I can call you something else."

You nestled into him again. "Well, when you put it like that."

Once again, Yoongi turned up the volume on the radio and you both at least pretended to pay attention. Although the movie in general was pretty innocuous, you took advantage of one lame jump scare to bury your face into his neck. Yoongi held his breath as you nosed at his scent gland, causing his light, happy scent to fill the car around you. He let you stay in his arms until the end of the movie, and although you didn't fall asleep, it was an easy mistake for him to make. He scratched teasingly at your side to rouse you when the screen went dark. 

"Are you ready to go home, princess?"

You tilted your head up to see his features illuminated by the lights of other cars as they made their exits. You'd practically forgotten that there was anyone else there. Your head nodded sleepily, and Yoongi reluctantly moved you over to your side of the seat. When he moved behind the steering wheel you moved back to the center seat and strapped in the seatbelt there so you could stay close to his warmth.

No matter how old you get, the urge to stay up on a Saturday night always remains. Yoongi could tell by the soft footsteps moving about the second floor that the pack are just settling in for the night, brushing their teeth and for the most part discarding unnecessary items of clothing before staking their claim to their spots in the nest. Everyone was home for once, and they'd all sleep soundly. Even you. Even Yoongi, although he knew that it still wasn't time for you and him to share space for that activity. You climbed the stairs sleepily with Yoongi a few steps behind you, making sure you didn't slip as you swayed precariously. His hand went quickly to your hip, grabbing hold of the fabric there when you tripped over the top step. The noise brought Hoseok to the bedroom door.

"You didn't get her drunk, did you, alpha?" Hobi asked from the half open door. Yoongi rolled his eyes, because the omega knew that wasn't the plan.

"No, just sleepy," you yawned as you rubbed your eyes. 

Jimin squeezed past Hoseok to give you a goodnight hug. "You smell like you crawled out of an orange." He giggled, "apples and oranges."

Yoongi blushed while the two of you said your goodnights. 

"Do you need any help getting ready for bed?" Hobi asked softly. He'd helped you take apart your nest earlier today so that you could keep practicing. 

"No, I think I got it. And I have new pillows," you whispered happily.

"Okay then," he smiled back. "Yoongi, I'll see you in a minute," he said, and the instruction to your alpha was clear, just in case he didn't already know where he would be sleeping tonight. He closed the door and the two of you were cloaked in darkness except for a sliver of light from a lamp Hoseok left on for you in your room. 

"Are you going to tell them what I told you earlier?" You asked after a moment passed with nothing but the sound of your breathing. 

"I won't, if you don't want me too. But no one is going to judge you if you're–"

"No. I was just thinking it would be better if you did. That way I don't have to tell it six more times."

Yoongi nodded. It was a vulnerable thing you had shared, and it couldn't be easy to talk about with others. "I read once that if you talk about your trauma repeatedly, like you're telling a story, it can start to feel more like a thing that happened and not something that's still happening to you."

You cringed at the thought. "I think I'd still rather have you explain it. If you don't mind."

"Of course," he agreed easily, anything to make you more comfortable. 

"I had a good time tonight," you admitted after another quiet moment where neither of you seemed to want to leave. 

Yoongi's smile was becoming semi permanent. "I'm glad. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

He took one step closer to you and leaned down to kiss your cheek, but you turned your head up in such a way that you caught his lips with your own. You froze in surprise, and even more shockingly, he didn't move away. Yoongi took another step into you, so your chests were just touching. His hand went around your back to keep you steady despite intensifying the angle of your kiss. Still, it remained chaste even as it went on. His lips were hot and soft and just slightly moist, but he seemed content to press his mouth just gently to yours for another moment longer. Then his lips finally left yours, he whispered his goodnight and disappeared into the pack bedroom. 

😃😃 they kissed! Who wants to scream about it?

Permanent taglist: @lilacdreams-00  @wholockian1 @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @jikooksgirl19 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @marvelfamily3000 @borahae-reads @yoongiigolden   @staerryminimini @valhallawhispers @m4gg13-g @i-have-no-life-charlie @hellokittiesxbae @pamzn

Taglist: @ellesalazar @rinkud @osakis-gf @scuzmunkie @queen-in-the-shadows @toughbook @zariaskz @chansbaybygirl @cryingpages @coralmusicblaze @alex--awesome--22 @singukieee @welcometomyworld13 @juju-227592 @bangtanflirt @wittyreader @nyrovieeie @welcome418 @guinhosletters @lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime @moon-cupcakes @passionandsuga @zvrjkb @m0v3m3ntsblog @kykyxstandler @writingwithmai @moocow778 @ladyalicesbookstore @yoonseokerist @deejay08 @momoasenthusiasticreader @littlestarstinyseven @bittersweetbaylee

@im-sinking-in-mud @iloverubberduckiez-blog @someshinesomedont @kungsoonie @neverthefirstchoice @kameko-ko @sehun096rainbow

[bl00dlight]

So when I said that many green stans lack media literacy, it's crazy how right I was given so many think Aegon is a good father. Again, like? Loving your son because he is an extension of yourself ≠ being a good father. And we see that, as he not only mistakes Jaehaera for being Jaehaerys ( the servants & Helaena react to this ON SCREEN how could you miss it), he doesn't know where Jaehaerys is even educated, Helaena actively tries to keep Aegon AWAY from Jaehaerys, he doesn't spend time with his kids (as shown in S1), he also HAS BASTARD CHILDREN HE WATCHES IN FIGHTING PITS? HUH? Caring only about your heir does not make you a good father. Its almost like 🤔🤔🤔 Viserys did the same thing🤔🤔🤔 he only gave a fuck about his heir 🤔🤔🤔 and everyone thinks he is a bad father because of it 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔. He has only gained interest in Jaehaerys because he is having fun with the novelty of ruling (as Tom said and even the other characters in show acknowledge this). He also let's his child fuck around in council room just to be a menace. Actively teaching the kid that it's all g to do whatever the fuck you want cause you're gonna be King one day? Is that NOT what people critiqued Rhaneyra for when she was younger lmao? It's like... how can you get "awww he is such an attentive father" from mistaking your son for your daughter LMAO. Like the framing of all the scenes are setting us up for Helaena's reaction during B+C. Not only is she disassociating and traumatised, but she is also very much aware of the in coming doom they are all about to meet on behalf of Aegon's choices as King. Does anyone recall the fact Phia and Tom state multiple times Aegon doesn't really give that much of a fuck about Helaena, on top of how uncomfortable she is being Queen? She knows Jaehaerys will be primarily influenced by Aegon? Remember how she says "What if he does not wish to be King?" that's her trying to sway Aegon from influencing his own son cause Helaena knows Aegon is a TERRIBLE example. Expanding on that, I kinda view her saving Jaehaera as her saving herself? It's also very possibly Jaehaera and Jaehaerys would have been betrothed. Imagine Helaena thinking her daughter might one day have the same fate as her, because she could not prevent otherwise???

Mfs just see Aegon = good father for 1 known interaction. Instead of Helaena being a good mother by literally spending most of her life raising her children alone only for Aegon to suddenly swoop Jaehaerys away from her and steer him wrong. Then being forced to let her son be murdered while his FATHER is drunk (and from leaks presumably at a brothel with Aemond) I'm SORRY? She gave up Jaehaerys so easily because she A) already had insight into something bad happening, B) also knew they'd kill both of her children either way? Would she have been a better mother for sacrificing her daughter because males are valued more? Only then to have both children killed regardless? She saved her daughter as SHE SHOULD HAVE. And anyone who speaks against Helaena's mothering but is pro Aegon as a father is just another example of how misogyny shapes our world as well as in Westeros.

Okay just because yall wanna fuck Ageon doesn't mean you can't be critical of him. Lord knows how I am publicly horny for Aemond and I have stated multiple times how that man is like... categorically the worst.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I reminded a friend he owes me money?

@aitathrowaway321 for finding later

I (20s, they/them) lent a friend Johnny (fake name. 20s, he/him) about $300 for rent about a year and a half ago. He was panicking because he'd bought a small tattoo that week, and had thought he'd budgeted for rent, but realized he forgot about another bill.

I'd once not had enough for rent and a friend who wasn't well off, without me asking, had offered to lend me the money for rent. It had been an incredibly kind act, and though I'd paid that friend back a few months later the first second I could, I've always remembered it. So I offered to do the same to Johnny (who knew this story) as a sort of pay-it-forward and that he could just pay me back when he was able, no rush at all. I also at the time had an okay job where I made enough to be able to do this, and Johnny's job was pretty awful.

Johnny was very thankful and agreed. At first, he'd bring up the debt a lot himself (I would never bring it up) and continually promise to pay it when he could, to which I'd be like - just as soon as you comfortably can, don't stress! And he mentioned it A LOT. Multiple times every single time I saw him at first. But eventually he stopped mentioning it entirely.

The two of us had this in-joke, and Johnny realized he could buy something related to the in-joke. He swore he'd buy it for me as a birthday gift (I didn't ask) and it would be so much fun, very soon after I lent him money. It would have been a nice gift, but it would've cost at least $200. In my head I decided that if he decided to get me the gift instead of paying me back I'd be happy either way, bc it's nice to be thought of. All I said aloud was that it would be a lot of fun, and it was a very kind thought from him. He would then regularly bring up buying me this gift for months. Then my birthday passed and I didn't get anything at all from him. Which was fine, I didn't ask for gifts! But then he stopped bringing up buying me anything OR paying back the money.

Now it's been almost a year and a half, and he seems to have entirely forgotten he ever owed me. I wouldn't mind so much - times are hard! - and it's not like I'm going to be angry if someone is spending money on nice dinners and pretty clothes instead of saving up for a no-deadline debt to a friend. People need to have nice things to get through life. But he keeps getting new tattoos and piercings (we go to the same parlor, I know they're pricey) and he recently planned and went on a big trip with a friend. It's not as if he hasn't had the ability to pay me back in the last few years. I also got laid off from my job, and $300 is a lot more to me than it used to be.

It's not so much that I want the money back as it is that I'm hurt he spent so much time talking big about paying me, and then when enough time had passed just dropped it entirely. I've had an issue in the past when after I got an okay job, suddenly people who had ghosted me were begging me for money (didn't know my salary but just assumed bc of the job title). And having been in awful situations, I tried to help where I could anyway, but then after getting the money they'd ghost me again. Johnny hasn't ghosted me, but he seems to have decided not to pay me back and pretend it never happened.

We have an event coming up where people will be paying for things and everyone else will be paying them back immediately - just bc it's easier to do things like buy tickets all at once and then pass them out, and easier for a restaurant to have one bill and then people venmo each other after. I was considering having Johnny pay and then tell him he can take it out of his debt to me.

I'm unsure if this is passive aggressive and rude, or if it's a good way to gently remind him he owes me without being a jerk about money - if he is still just struggling financially and hasn't forgotten, I don't want to rub anything in or make him stressed. I don't want money to ruin a friendship, but I'm feeling hurt.

[sukunasun]

TANGLED WEB | SPIDERMAN 2099 GETO SUGURU X READER

"i'm worried about you," you said to him then. it's not that there's anything wrong with him. flaky, yes. forgetful, sometimes. but it's starting to become increasingly clear that he's not all he seems to be.

suguru moves around his lab with soft, padded steps as the room is slowly lit by a hundred holographic screens. he's programmed it that way so it doesn't spook him. he hasn't had a good night's sleep in the last ten years. well, maybe forever actually, but he's stopped counting the all-nighters.

jumping from universe to universe does that to you, where time becomes a jumbled mess of past, present, and future. doesn't help that more of them explode into being each day. he's seen himself as a child in one and an old man in another, happily easing himself into his lazy chair while his beautiful wife grumbles on about how he needs to exercise more or his limbs will start creaking.

that one hurts a little too much he'll admit. would rather not think about a life where he'd been happy and perfectly content. instead, he taps on a few buttons by a console, sifting through screens, and moving windows out of the way with a swipe of his hand. news footage, maps, weapon inventory, plans and projects he's left on hold, some of them dating back years before he ever resorted to this life—bringing about order to chaos. there was no swinging from death-defying heights, no bank robbery chases and saving cats from trees, no...putting the multiverse back together, piece by fragmented piece.

his fingers grasp at the spandex of his mask, tugging it loose til his skin feels that familiar brush of fresh air. letting his hair fall down his shoulders and back, breathing a sigh of relief when he feels the tension leaving his scalp.

a video plays before him, lighting up his face from the dim. he remembers recording it at your wedding dress fitting. it wasn't necessary he told you, the dress, the rings, the reception, thinking he'd been above all these ritualistic traditions. now it's all he holds onto really, standing by the same spot, with the same video playing on a loop.

"sorry, it's been a while," he speaks, his roughened voice echoing around the walls. he makes a motion with his fingers and the video blows up in size. pixels painting a picture of your smiling face, a soft, love-filled gaze focused on him. or it seems that way. back when you still loved him anyway.

"hey," you say, a little self-conscious, "do we have to do this?" palming the material of your dress nervously, your engagement ring twinkling. he feels the phantom weight of the one he used to wear on his finger all the time. so much so that he rubs a thumb over the empty space, feeling only his suit there. 

he's removed his voice from the clip, only because it allows him to talk to you—at least some semblance of it—like he does now, "not if you don't want to...i just miss you is all," he replies.

"what kind of an answer is that?" his heart clenches at your laugh ringing through. a younger him would have said something funny when he should have been better with his words. should have told you how beautiful you were, how much you meant to him. but they always get caught in his throat. 

he's ignoring the fact that there are hundreds of other spidermans surrounding him behind these walls and any of them could waltz right in. watching the tough leader of spider society talk to an old tape of his ex-wife. they'd see just how...lonely he is.

two of them sit in a corner somewhere doing whatever task he's given them for the day. and they know there's nothing they could do about it. because he's got an oh-so-impossible plan of rewriting the canon. changing the outcome. for this is not up to technology or anything that isn't you and your wish to love him again.

and if he knows anything about multiverse travel, is that it's heartbreaking. how often he's lived in different shoes, loving a different you every time. multiple lifetimes, occurrences, origins, and resolutions. reliving the first time he held your hand, the first kiss, the first time he took you in his college dorm, how it was awkward and messy, but he'd cradled you in his arms when your body was a sweaty, blissed-out mess after, the expression on your face so rewarding he couldn't feel the sting of the scratch marks you've left all over his back.

you were hot to the touch one moment, a rousing sight, perfect in every way. and then you were cold, losing all colour, and grasping at him with your final breath seconds later. suguru realizes he was no longer in the comfort of an old junky room but on a street corner. buildings crumbling and him barely withstanding the weight of rubble on his back. his naked skin now in his suit drenched with blood. he swore it was just a glitch, but he saw with his very eyes, each of his timelines colliding and ripping apart, each tangent leading back to his inevitable loss. losing everything. losing you.

so they keep working on it. and he keeps watching you on a screen. shrugging and slumping his body and averting his eyes away because he can't bear to face you. always guilty and for what, he doesn't exactly know. can't pinpoint the moment he felt you slip through his fingers. only that he couldn't be the person you needed him to be.

"pathetic right?" he says, timing it right for the moment you reply with a—

"i forgive you," you say, hand reaching out to his. and he pauses the video there, placing his own hand against the screen and watching it glitch when his fingers make a hole through the display, plunging through and feeling only emptiness in return. at the very least, it buzzes around his form and it feels warm, but it's nothing compared to the way you'd hold him.

"promise?" he whispers, knowing you won't reply, and that the answer is already there. but he pulls his hand away, rewinds it, and starts all over again.

——————————————————

he still dreams about you. on the rare occasions he does manage to fall asleep.

but they're not scenes and sounds he's conjuring up, a random bunch of no-names his consciousness collected throughout the day, hazy blobs of red and blue. it's only ever one thing. a moment from his past he can't let go off.

vividly he sees you standing in the rain. in nothing but a pair of jeans and a tshirt. huff . huff.  his breaths are labored. here in the cold of night, they puff out in short gasps of white.

it all feels so real. in the flesh. in his suit. hanging upside down on what appears to be tangled strands of webbing in his grasp. body covered in black spandex, red covering the pads of his hands and feet, thick lines spanning across broad shoulders and chest, an angular pattern of a spider sitting right in the middle.

"so tell me spiderman...you've got a million eyes and ghastly fangs?" cupping his head gently, you're fingers move on their own accord. thumbs caressing over the material, feeling the flat planes and deep grooves of his features. a strong nose, soft cheeks...shaping and sculpting him in your mind's eye.

"go ahead," he whispers, his voice hoarse and ...desperate, "take it off and find out..." screw it, he thinks, he can have this, just this once. he's allowed to. it's just a dream anyway. spiderman is everything he's not. he's done more with the suit on than when it was left crumpled and untouched in his closet.

tugging at his mask, the hem starts to peel away from his neck. sliding and stretching over his throat. tucking folds moving upwards with every pull. pale skin revealed, now blooming red the moment you ease it over his adam's apple, over the cut of his jaw, and finally the edge grazes past his lips.

he gasps. mouth parting with every exhale, his fangs retracting and peeking from beneath, his chest rising and falling in time with his rapid breaths, his thumping heart. "thank you, for saving me," you whisper, before pressing your lips to his, feeling them part as his tongue slips inside the warmth of your mouth. fuck, this is exhilarating. even though it could just be from the last time he kissed you, the taste of you is unlike any other, forever etched in his memory.

——————————————————

"i'm worried about you," you said to him then. it's not that there's anything wrong with him. flaky, yes. forgetful, sometimes. but it's starting to become increasingly clear that he's not all he seems to be.

in that restaurant you like—the one serving the huge rice bowls and unlimited tea refills—you eyed the new injury he's gotten that week. he should have tried to hide it at least. but scarily enough, it was probably the best his efforts could afford. it'd been a bruise on his cheek, no bigger than a few centimeters, and knuckles so raw, so red, the skin splits down the middle of those nubby slopes.

"it's really fine," he brushes you off and you noticed the slight wince in his expression, giving it away. if he were better at acting you wouldn't catch how his arms rested on the table, placing most of his weight on it and shielding his torso from you. just underneath his shirt, two broken ribs sealed themselves back beneath skin and muscle at a snail's pace, a bullet wound in his shoulder closed up inch by inch. felt the dermis stitching itself back segment by segment in circular motions.

you sighed heavily. he didn't miss the disappointment laced in your features. "i think we should break up, you're...hiding things from me." a part of him knew it was coming, but where does he even begin. he's left these things out for a reason. spiderman doesn't have a place in all this. that...version of himself is his own burden to bear.

geto suguru was your boyfriend, unmasked and uncovered. the one who has a strict hair care routine and likes spending his time cooped up in a lab. less mad scientist and more aloof inventor who's dedicated his life to a cause. he's charming, intelligent, and sexier than he should be—"are you sure you're not lying to me about your job? i don't think researchers do pull-ups at work," you squeeze at the swell of his arms in wonder, palms pressed into his pecs, admiring the bulk, the brawn, down the curve of his slim little waist.

geto however, can only blush. chuckling to himself nervously whilst grateful the cut of muscles is enough to distract you.

you've mentioned it once or twice. that it's just a bonus he's so hot, the real appeal is where on most days he's dorky....disheveled. and so captivating. drooping eyebags kissing the steam wafting from his mug, coffee today, because he needs the extra boost. how he's scratching at his toothpaste-stained shirt while a blanket hangs over his head in the mornings. when warm light hits just right, you notice the alluring streak of silver hairs, shining against dark locks. swooping and silky. oh how does stress look this lustrous...this indulgent. trotting about his messy kitchen with a lazy, drowsy gait.

"where the fuck is it," he mumbles, noisily wading through last night's clutter for..."my thingy!" he exclaims. because everything's a 'thingy' at this hour. when his brain is still fuzzy and he's got no energy. he's brandishing what happens to be a teaspoon like he's found the holy grail. and yes, it is that important because "this teaspoon isn't like any other teaspoon, it's actually perfectly accurate in measuring the amount of sugar i like," he's so particular.

sometimes he goes back there, he'd swing past heavy traffic and crowded streets from below. a route he knows by heart. by instinct. awed and frightened faces alike, feasting their eyes upon a masked man and his reflected grief in skyscraping windows. regrets when he'd been fighting crime and it slipped his mind. he promises he'll be early from now on, hoping to see you waiting for him by that same table and maybe this time, you wouldn't want to end things.

[mla0]

i think with me, sometimes the reasons why some people hate a character are why i love them in the first place. i love character arcs and just characters with heavy flaws in general, including characters who genuinely do heinous things while still trying to do their best and having good* intentions. i just find that so compelling and realistic. i think vinny and shaun are both in that category for me, but it certainly doesn't only apply to them; i just think their personalities and plotlines were the most interesting for me.

i liked the plot twist with vinny. loved it, actually. made me like vinny as a character way more than i did when i thought he was just some.... well, everyman. it made me see everymanhybrid so much differently than before, it recontexualized huge moments that happened before that i initially didn't even care about, because we only just learned that those were actually huge character moments and we just didn't know it yet. it added a whole new, flawed layer to the series that i adore. vinny seemed to be such an average, good-guy character who sometimes did stupid shit. then you find out that much of it wasn't accidental at all, but instead a desperate attempt to save himself and whoever else he was capable of saving, at the cost of others, and his own dignity. the lengths he went were extreme and unjustifiable to many, but that's what i liked. it showed that vinny is a human, for better and for worse. what lengths would you go to in order to survive?

i like that shaun can be a huge dick sometimes- she can be intentionally blind to the bigger situation, in denial to protect herself from something terrifying even though it hurt her family, and you can see her struggle with that. doing something like that hurts and feels terrible, but is still something she chose because she was afraid. she sided with a close friend over her family because of the comfort of familiarity, of what "makes sense." it's coping with something that is fundamentally terrifying to come to terms with. it's fucked up in the viewers eyes, but to someone in that situation you can understand why it happened. you can hate it, but still see yourself in it. then you also see moments of kindness, including between the two siblings, and you get a more full picture of her as a whole. she's chalk full of conflicting messages and i adore that. she cut off michael in one of the last few videos, but then refused to give up his location even when facing death. she gets angry, she fucks up, but she's still unwilling to doom those she seemed to hate even when it could've saved her life, even when being lied to about all that happened. getting the mix of her flaws and virtues (along with the same for the other characters) was probably my favorite part of this series.

anyways, you see multiple facets of their characters, some loveable and some hateable, but even when they do horrible things, it only makes me find them more interesting. it's not quite like a villain in how they're "evil" or have bad intentions despite sometimes being complex themselves (HABIT, for example), because they're regular people, but you watch them fuck up over and over again while still understanding where they're coming from, and recognizing that many would fall into the same trap, because nobody is without their vices, their selfishness, and their blind-spots. so many people, including ones who think they'd be better in that situation, wouldn't be if put to the test. they'd fuck up, they'd do awful things either to save themselves or for their perception of the greater good, and i love that. i like to see how people can break down and degrade in such horrible situations, while their humanity and ultimate "goodness" still exists at the same time, creating a conflict between how they're still a good person at heart but willing to do bad things if they feel it's justified. it gives a glimpse into your average person's breaking point and general morality, which is rarely strictly good or justifiable, nor purely evil or irredeemable.

also, it opens the doors for me to write compelling redemption arcs, which i've also always loved. i love seeing bad people get better, and good people get worse. like i said before, what would you be willing to do to keep yourself alive?

[morgana-ren]

Morgana if Bailey and Leighton DID become love intrests, how do you think it would look like?

Also, wpuld they use pet names? If so, what pet names would they use?

I think it would be pretty interesting, actually!

They'd present the opportunity to do something entirely different than the rest of the love interests!

Not talking shit on them, but a lot of the love interests are pretty... stereotypical. You've got the stalker, the bully, the sugar daddy old enough to be your daddy, the sweet religious boy, the best friend, etc.

And they're great, actually. I love them.

But can you imagine doing something a little... different with it?

Bailey

I think Bailey's is the most unique. It wouldn't be a stereotypical Love Interest ordeal. It would very clearly be a love/hate thing, which would probably take some insanely high checks with a secret trigger, same with seducing him in his office. Kind of like a secret path you can take after the right amount of choices.

Maybe trying to seduce him multiple times results in a strange encounter. He hates it, and he has a serious problem trying to resist. So, he does what Bailey does and thinks about how he can turn a problem into an opportunity.

He can fuck one of his orphans. If it benefits him. Free stress relief and the like. He's already done it once, so what's done is done.

He'd have a love meter, but it doesn't quite... work in the same way it does with everyone else. He never gets gooey or mushy. He doesn't take you on dates or have nice dinners with you. The higher it goes, the more he just seeks you out-- maybe without even meaning to. There'd be more 'encounters' available.

Maybe something akin to a dominance meter, that if you pay your bills on time, stay out of trouble with the police and other threats, making his life easier, do what he wants in bed without whining and basically just not being a problem for him, it goes higher. You can be his little pet or helper, if it's high. He'll trust you on errands and ask you to drop off sealed paperwork or attend small meetings for him. Kind of like an assistant. He won't pay you, but he'll be a bit more lenient in the future— for a price.

Maybe some encounters similar to Whitney, where he puts you under his desk to uh.... entertain him while he works. Just walks in when you're in the bath. You'd occasionally run into him in town, where he'd save you from an assault.

"No touching my orphans-- for free."

He'd never say he loves you or anything like that. Nothing so touching. But you'd catch him staring sometimes, and he'd immediately look away. Maybe he'd stroke your hair offhandedly when he's finished with you rather than just throwing you out. You become someone he reluctantly cares for, but you'd never see it. He's still an antagonist. You're just bedding him, as far as you know. Lots of trauma. Stockholm syndrome type shit.

Maybe during an assault, you'll get out of it for free (similar to the one in school with Whitney) and they'd say something like "Isn't that Bailey's special orphan? Shit!"

He'd have some rotten encounters with the other love interests. You run into him on date night with Avery and they have the most awkward, tense conversation of all time, and Avery says something along the lines of "Is he your guardian? I don't like the way he looks at you. That's not the way a caretaker should look at their wards" or the like.

He'll actively throw Whitney out of the orphanage if he catches him, and tells him to quit sniffing around you. He couldn't afford you.

Same with Kylar, except maybe he sees Kylar as an active threat and pulls the gun out to threaten him. Tells him that if he harms a single hair on your head, he'll pay in more than just cash.

He'll come and get you if you're gone for too long. Send goons after you if Morgan has you trapped in the sewers. Show up at Eden's place for you. Same with the farm. He'll drag you back home to the orphanage and ask you exactly who the fuck it is you think you belong to. Have you hard against the desk (consensual if you're into it, nonconsensual if you ask him to stop) and warn you to stop disappearing. it wastes his time to go and look for you, so you had better stay close.

When his meter falls too low (dominance, that is) he quite literally chains you to the desk. Tells the school that you've fallen ill and won't be there for a while, and just... keeps you there until he's comfortable enough to release you. It's sort of like a soft bad end until you regain his trust.

He cannot be dismissed. This is permanent. Once you've got his attention, you have his attention. You wanted it so badly, and now you'll deal with the consequences.

Something along that vein is what I picture for Bailey without getting too OOC.

Leighton

Leighton is a little bit more straight forward. Triggered by consensually sleeping with him at the brothel enough times and making him cum in detention and picking flirty options rather than bitchy ones. Basically, you catch his attention, and he decides he wants to keep you around. He notices your 'little crush' on him and decides to take advantage.

So he makes some sort of excuse to keep you around more often. Maybe gives you an optional afterschool job in the office until it closes when he goes home so that you can be close. You can go to his office to trigger some events. Sorting files for him, sitting on his lap as he works, consensual photoshoots for him, letting him eat you out as you try to focus on his extra paperwork.

Detention is still detention, but there's a more sexual spin on it. Er— more of one than there already is. Instead of "I will obey the rules" over and over on the blackboard, he has you strip and write "I will obey my headmaster" over and over. Your spanking punishments turn into raw dogging. He 'helps' you wash his car, awfully hands-on. Puts it in your ass raw if you've been particularly naughty.

He's super into the power dynamic, and the headmaster/school girl thing gets him off, so a lot of your encounters are education themed. He's 'teaching' you. Showing you how to please a man. Health education lessons. Will spoon his seed into your mouth while rattling off the benefits of swallowing cum.

At the brothel, he'll still occasionally invite another student to join you, but he'll also just do single encounters with you, and he'll pay you more— or not at all, depending.

You basically become a literal teacher's pet.

He can't really take you out in public for obvious reasons, but sometimes he'll take you to a restaurant outside of town and call you his daughter or his niece to anyone who asks. He might try to sneak you off to a hotel on the weekends, making some excuse about a student conference or special project. Sometimes he'll let you stay after school and drink with him in his office. Once his love is high enough, he'll unlock the school during the weekend and you can find him there during the day and do some... 'Roleplay' with him.

(does it count as roleplay if he's actually your teacher and you're actually his student?)

He'll start coming to your around town performances, whether it's at the sex shop or the museum. Always takes photos. He will 'reward' high grades and 'discipline' delinquency.

Does not get on with your other love interests. He's arguably the creepiest. Will deliberately separate you and Robin, and make crude remarks to Whitney about you. Won't spank Sydney anymore, and will just send them out as he uhh disciplines you, making a lewd comment as he does.

If he meets Avery, he calls you his 'best little student' in a way that has his skin crawling, and winks at you as he leaves. Calls you into his office if you've been missing at another place too long— and calls Bailey regarding you, which can lead to some interesting conversation if you're romancing them both. Gives Kylar detention for circling you, telling them to stop 'harassing his top student.'

He's still a pervert, but the higher his love is, the more he fixates on you to the point it can be suffocating and extremely unsettling.

I think if I really put more thought into it, I could come up with something more comprehensive and in character. It could be a really cool little offshoot from the typical love interests and leaves some room to experiment.

As for pet names, I think Bailey tries to avoid them, but in the heat of the moment, will let something along the lines of 'daddy' slip. He's your caretaker, after all. Can't resist it. Talks a lot about how he 'owns' you and how you 'belong' to him. Says you will always belong to him as he marks up your neck. Maybe you should get it tattooed.

Basically giving you a pet name is admitting he thinks of you in a special manner, so he really tries not to. Something something 'dirty little orphan bitch' and 'my little orphan whore.' They'll be slightly kinder if he has high love, but never outright cute or kind. His best orphan, his top earner, his naive little brat. Often claims ownership of you shortly after saying it just to reassert dominance. It's just how he is.

Leighton strikes me as a complete creep. He genuinely likes when you call him headmaster or professor, but will start to slip into 'uncle' territory once he trusts you. Possibly even daddy. He gets off on the age difference and the power imbalance. Really gets off.

You're little girl, his darling student, his precious pet. His loving niece, so attentive to uncle's needs. He gets really eerie with it is what I'm saying. During sex, he's still demeaning. Filthy little whore, headmaster's personal dirty slut. Makes up scenarios about you fucking him to get your grades up, even if that's not the case. Like gets real weird with it.

Like "Do you like when Uncle Leighton's cock makes you to feel good, little girl?" And "you're headmaster's dirty little secret." Territory.

A real winner, he is.

[ghostinthegallery]

I have thoughts about the epilogue to The Infinite and the Divine, which should not be surprising as I don't think I've found a single person around here without thoughts about the epilogue to The Infinite and the Divine. Spoilers below

Because initially yeah, I hated it! We came so far, did so much, and in the end it didn't even matter. Trazyn and Orikan are immediately back to their old ways, Trazyn is feeding a ctan shard WTF?? No mention of the battle they just fought together, right back to normal hatred and poor decision making. It really felt like the book was done and the epilogue got tacked on just to make sure everyone knew the status quo still reigned because dang it we have plastic to sell here! (I don't know if that at all reflects reality, but that is how it felt)

BUT! Concerns of capitalism aside, I think there is actually something to this epilogue and it's pretty damn tragic if you meet it where it's at.

Because necrons lost something when their souls got eaten but it isn't entirely clear what that thing was. There's some element of loss of creativity and artistry, but necrons still have plays (ungodly long historicals but still...it's theater). Multiple necron characters compose music and poetry, they just suck at it! So what if what they truly lost was their ability to change themselves in the fundamental ways that would keep them from repeating these destructive patterns? Because a machine can't grow in the way a being with a soul can.

What if that is why Szarekh is working with the same guy who built the biotransference furnaces to do biotransference again but in reverse this time. Why Anrakyr just wanders the galaxy gaining and losing resources while ignoring his own world? What if that's why Djoseras couldn't change while he watched his family and kingdom fall apart? Why Oltyx couldn't accept what he was (or make a good decision to save his life) before going through some...extreme lengths. All of them want to change their circumstances but what if the thing that was taken from them was the ability to ever do that?

So yeah, Orikan and Trazyn would obviously be happier if they could passionately make out cool off their rivalry, but can they? Can they make the fundamental shifts they'd need to bridge the gaps that made them hate each other in the first place? Hell, even if they did, would it be enough to overcome millions of years of violence? Because that's the second point I think the epilogue makes. As incredible as their alliance was, it was a blink of an eye on the grand scheme of things. How do you remember one instance (even one century) of cooperation, when you have millions of years of hatred behind you?

I definitely don't like the epilogue, maybe it was shameless status quo resetting, but damn if it doesn't get me the more I think about it.

Shoot I made myself sad...

[ranchthoughts]

thinking about Pat, Pran, and competition

Pat and Pran being competitive is a cornerstone of their relationship: they battle academically, they tease one another constantly, they fight physically, and they even officially get together through a bet. Pat and Pran have grown up with so much competition in their lives it makes sense that it would remain part of their dynamic, albeit with different contexts and meanings (i.e, as fun foreplay).

Pat and Pran were pitted against each other as kids, and then in university once again found themselves on opposite sides of a rivalry between their two faculties. However, the competition between the two of them has never involved feelings of genuine hatred. They maintained a fairly friendly relationship through childhood (they spoke to each other through tin cans, they were in a band and wrote a song together, etc.), and in university they pretty quickly started working together to keep their faculties peaceful and had limits on how far they'd go when fighting (Pat promised Pa he wouldn't physically hurt Pran). Pat says it himself in episode 6: despite being forced to compete against Pran every day of his life, he could never hate him. Competing was something they did - something they went through - together.

Competition is somewhat of a safe space for Pran and Pat - it is what they know, it is how they know to interact. Moreover, the first time they openly did not compete/worked together (writing and performing the song in high school), Pran was sent away. Pran says "When we are together [i.e., not competing], bad things happen." Competing is safer/more possible than not competing, because not competing is not sustainable with the families they have. This expresses itself in multiple ways: Pat and Pran pretending to fight at school, Pat and Pran not interacting at home, etc, but I wanted to highlight one particular aspect of their dynamic where this angle of competition is present:

Pran and Pat talk constantly about what they owe to each other. Pat owes Pran because he saved Pa all those years ago. When Pat tries to repay him, for example by offering to be the one who moves out, Pran refuses him. @dudeyuri wrote about this dynamic here: Pran uses competition and the excuse of "You Owe Me" to keep Pat in his life. He can't be Pat's friend because their families wouldn't allow that, and he definitely can't be his boyfriend, but Pran cares for Pat too much to lose him from his life completely. At the same time, Pran doesn't want to admit how desperately he wants Pat in his life (with Pran's feelings that would be too revealing), so he uses this competitive concept of owing something, of not being repaid satisfactorily, to keep Pat in his life. We talk about people inventing "intricate rituals" which give plausible deniability for things they ordinarily could not do or should not want in society (see this piece by artist Barbara Kruger) - Pat and Pran construct intricate rituals of debt to keep one another in their lives and intricate rituals of competition to allow themselves to pursue things they ordinarily would not dare to (e.g., using the Bet to flirt with each other). Speaking of the Bet, @telomeke-bbs (x) and @inventedfangirling (x, x) have has already written about how Pat utilized the competition of the Bet to get Pran comfortable with expressing his feelings and courting/being courted, and how he probably got the idea from Pran himself. Once again, competition is a safe space, a familiar space, for Pran and Pat.

This connects to another idea I've been tossing around: Pat and Pran are fluent in each other. They know each other very well and they rarely have to verbalize things explicitly to be understood (I talked about that with regards to the ep. 5 rooftop scene here). Pran and Pat's competitiveness is another example of this; to another couple, constant competition would take its toll (we see this a bit with Phupha and Tian in the Our Skyy 2 crossover episodes, for example), but to Pat and Pran, it's an important part of their puzzle. They've been living in this competitive dynamic since they were young, and they know each other's limits. For example, when Pran overhears Ming's comments and Pat is immediately concerned for him (see here), or how Pat and Pran keep their flirting with others (Ink and Wau) lighthearted despite trying to invoke jealousy in the other, and when it is too much, like when Pat gets hurt that Pran gave Wai his guitar to look after, the other realizes and reaches out to make amends. @thegayneurodivergentagenda points out a further example - despite competing and teasing Pran all the time, Pat always celebrates Pran's wins. The Bet, and how it utilizes competition, is another example of how well Pat and Pran know each other. Pat knows something competitive like that is the best way to get Pran engaged and feeling at ease.

Despite these shared experiences of competition, Pat and Pran have different relationships to competition. Both of them were pushed to be the best by their parents, but the differences in their parents and their personalities means they reacted to this upbringing and internalized it differently. Pran's parents wanted him to succeed (and to beat Pat), but in many ways this jived with his perfectionist, detail-oriented personality. Pat, on the other hand, was pushed to succeed by a father who had specific ideas of what success [and masculinity] looked like (fierce, excelling in contact sports and academic, a leader, etc.) which didn't necessarily suit Pat's personality (he is soft, clingy, loves to be cared for and to care for others, etc. - see @kattahj's thoughts here). We see how much easier it is, comparatively, for Pat to break free of his father's expectations and control: in the Our Skyy 2 episodes we learn that Ming is not very involved in Pat's life and Pat doesn't care what he thinks, and in episode 12 we saw how distant and strained Pat's relationship is with Ming (see @grapejuicegay's post on Pat and his father here, and @miscellar and others' here). Pran, meanwhile, stays closer to his mother and deeper under her influence for longer - in the Our Skyy 2 episodes he talks about how involved she is in his life (and there are a number of reasons for this, including his own personality, him being an only child, etc., as well as the similarities between his mother's dreams for him and his own).

For Pat, competing has never been something he was oriented towards naturally, so it is easier for him to remove the drive to win and the angst of competition to just enjoy the fun and sexiness of it all. Pat tells us he always lets his lover win - competing is, to him, a chance to demonstrate love. And how fitting for Pat that the clearest way he knows to show his love is to acquiesce - he's had the need to win hammered into his head from childhood, so of course to him the greatest thing you can do for someone you love is to give up the win. And of course that's how he interacts with people he loves, when the person he's loved since childhood (unknowingly or not) has been that person he was supposed to beat (see @transpat's beautiful post about Pat, Pran, and haq here).

For Pran, competition is encoded a bit deeper into his personality, so it retains a bit of an edge. And once again, that makes sense. Pran's personality is more suited to perfectionism and the drive to succeed, and Pran's been relying on competition as a way and a reason to keep his feelings for Pat at bay. Pat is delighted to be able to cede, while Pran is not at that point yet: he still has a desire to win, to prove himself as competent, which provides friction and hesitation in his relationship with Pat (we see him wrestling with this over the course of the Our Skyy 2 episodes). Despite this, competition remains something Pat and Pran do together, and Pran is slowly learning to let himself relax into it, to show vulnerability, especially as they begin to build themselves a life where competition is on their own terms.

Competition for Pat and Pran becomes a way to resolve or work through tensions (see Pat and Pran competing to see who can get Phupha's signature of approval on the architecture play first, which quickly becomes a cooperative effort - @miscellar details that here), or a way to demonstrate love and understanding of the other (see Pran challenging Pat to prove his love by publicly claiming him, something Pat has been longing to do - @dudeyuri details that here).

In @miscellar's post on episode 12, they defined Pat and Pran's ethos as "they don’t win or lose when they compete. they compete because they love each other and the result doesn’t matter," and in another post @miscellar says "competing is their love language and it’s how they kept each other in their lives, and in that sense competing is also a promise between them". For a long time, Pat and Pran had been competing but not really winning. While the competition forced by their parents did provide them with a powerful shared experience, it also kept them apart and unhappy. Pran and Pat kept up another competition of sorts, a You Owe Me type of relationship where they would never actually declare a winner or an end, because the point wasn't to settle a debt but rather to provide an excuse for staying in one another's lives. Then they started another competition, the Bet, one where they knew from the beginning there could be no winner because they had both already lost and the point was to provide a safe space to explore their budding relationship. Furthermore, all of these competitions required cooperation to keep up: Pat and Pran had to pretend to fight in front of friends and family, they had to pretend there are still unresolved debts, they had to pretend they didn't know that the Bet has been lost from the start. Competing means committing to the Bit, and committing to the Bit is something that brings Pat and Pran together. For Pran and Pat, competition has always been a means of connection.

[y-rhywbeth2]

"how does Drow society exist" is a question that constantly baffles me too. Like if they really wanted to do a species of super-anti social elves that are constantly murdering each other than why not make them more like bears or something where they meet up to mate and then avoid each other for the rest of the time. I personally interpret a lot of Drow lore as being more about the upper echelons about society bc nobles constantly backstabbing each other like that for power makes more sense than literally everyone in society, ya know?

I'd have to go re-researching but I think I remember that Lolth usually reigns them in before they get to the brink of destruction and lets them recover before telling them to go nuts with the knives and poison again. She doesn't let it drop too low. They're also "blessed" with high fertility rates, prone to multiple births, and their society "encourages" hypersexuality - presumably to compensate for the death rate.

Despite their circumstances, drow aren't inherently murderous idiots and both Eilistraee and Vhaeraun are subtly influencing them (even if it's not openly, and the drow don't necessarily know where the dreams of peace and joy or the whispers of rebellion in their ear are coming from). It doesn't push most of them to undo their programming and risk their entire life, but it's enough that they may ignore an order or spare another's life if they think they won't get caught.

They have a whole romantic holiday that's just... playing hide and seek. No murder involved, just playing hide and seek across the city with your crush/es, so their lives don't just revolve around murder and social climbing. There's a reason Lolth's priestesses have a ritual to appease the Spider Queen that involves cutting out the heart of a lover when you grow too attached; because they do in fact have loved ones they'd rather not kill.

They're all going to be backstabbing and clawing their way up the ranks to some degree, because they need to survive and it's basically the same thing as Cazador and his spawn on a society wide level - you have to fight and claw your way to power and sell your soul for it, because the alternative is being powerless in a living hell where those that do have power will abuse you to save their own skins.

But I agree that the levels of murder are probably varied depending on the situation (less likely amongst the commoners who are beneath Lolth's notice; they probably don't target children and pregnant drow, even if just out of practicality, etc)

[clumsiestgiantess]

Another short story for y’all, enjoy!

No one intended for this to happen.  Some people warned others of the dangers, some people even refused to support the cause.  Whatever the case may be, no one was prepared for another world.  The government had this whole fancy plan to save our dying civilization from itself.  We'd used up all the natural resources our planet had to offer, and nearly killed it in doing so.  For centuries people searched for a suitable planet elsewhere in the vastness of space, but most planets just aren't livable.  The few planets that are are too far away to escape to.  Humanity was trapped in a cage they'd been slowly building for generations.  However, this all changed with the discovery of a new technology: Inter-reality Travel.  Apparently the government had found the perfect new world not out in space, but rather in another parallel place.  An Earth exactly like our own, only bigger.  More land to provide for our bloated population, more resources to grow a new empire.  According to scientists and theorists, it was the perfect escape.

There's only one problem with our new world – the cause of all the heated debates over the government's actions.  There were already people living there.  According to documentaries and news articles, scientists had found human life when they'd scanned for the habitability of the new Earth.  The more military-minded and desperate thought to wipe them out completely, to conquer the land and build new nations like in the old days.  Pacifists and the elite thought it was best to sign some sort of treaty with the parallel humans, or appeal to them as refugees of a dying planet.  We tried the passive way first.  Multiple teams of explorers set out to form relations with the other Earth, but none of them ever came back.  No one knows why; all communications go dead when you cross over, so there's really no way to know what happened, or what's out there.  Time was wearing thin and people started to grow impatient.  Humankind had to abandon their dying planet before they perished along with it.

In the end, the idea of a peaceful solution was chalked up to wishful thinking.  Humanity waged war on a population of people we knew next to nothing about.  It was extremely stupid, but we didn't have much of a choice.  We either die fighting to get to a new world, die in our real one, or, hopefully, live in a parallel Earth taken from the other humans.  Nothing could really prepare us for what we found beyond the strange rift opening, though.  Giants.  Humans that stood at an average of 60 feet tall.  In hindsight, this shouldn't have been too much of a shock.  The parallel Earth had been massive, it only made sense that its flora and fauna were massive too.  The fight didn't last nearly as long as we'd hoped.  The giants had terrifying weapons – explosives large enough to permanently dissolve our atmosphere, bullets the size of your head in guns that were twice as long as you were tall.  

It all came down to the simple fact that the giants were willing to drag our entire world into ruin.  They didn't care what happened to us; we attacked them with plans for their mass extinction, after all.  Humanity, on the other hand, didn't have the same advantage.  We couldn't fight an all-out war.  We needed to keep the giant's world intact if we wanted to live in it, but the giants were happy to obliterate ours.  Once spies from the parallel world informed us that the giants would be throwing our world into nuclear extinction, people fled by the thousands.  Lucky portal spawns, those in places the giants hadn't settled, became camps, set up for those of us who managed to escape our dying Earth.  Over time these places became full fledged towns, though there were few of these, they were safehavens.  Others had hunkered down in small parks or undeveloped land, hoping that they wouldn't be stumbled upon by a stray giant.  However, many of us – most of us, were lost to the nuclear fallout brought by the giants.

Humankind had been a dying species for centuries, but we were used to being at the top of the food chain.  Here, we were nearly extinct.  Our numbers still declined rapidly as more and more camps were found and destroyed.  Thus is the world I live in.  A bleak existence to say the least.  My name's Hannah Davis.  Before the neuclear holocaust that we call 'The Escape', I was a soldier in our fight-or-die army.  I didn't want to be a soldier.  In fact, I wanted nothing to do with the parallel world, but the Draft said otherwise.  My squadron was in the middle of a battle when we got the news that our world was gone.  The sudden and severe loss of morale almost cost everyone's lives.  I barely escaped along with a few others I hardly knew.  We'd hid in the woods nearby for months, but winter was coming fast, and we were rapidly running out of supplies.  Slowly but surely, people began freezing and starving to death.  

I knew we weren't going to make it if we stayed there.  Some of us had heard talk of an actual town somewhere to the west over a half-dead radio, but no one had the courage or the strength to go there.  Me?  I have the courage, just not the strength.  Lack of food and extreme cold can kill a person quicker than you'd think.  Just because someone's alive doesn't mean they're actually living.  I tried to convince the others to lend me enough provisions to trek over to the town, as I was the youngest and most likely to make the trip.  However, they stubbornly refused to give up the little food they had.  I don't blame them, but I was still angry with them.  So angry, and so desperate, that I tried to make the journey anyway.  What I didn't realize was that there was a giant subdivision between our camp and the town.  After a day of traveling, and a terrifying run across a major roadway, I made camp at its edge.  Unfortunately, luck was not on my side.  I'd sprained my ankle tripping on the edge of the roadway as I ran across, and right before the sun set, it started to snow.  With worst coming to worst, I lay down and hoped that I might be peacefully put out of my misery in sleep.

~ POV Swap ~

The invasion caught everyone off guard.  It was like something out of a bad science fiction novel.  All over the world, crackling portals split the open air, linking our world to a strange new one.  Humanity held its breath in fear of what would come out of these horrifying tears in the world.  As it turns out, we had nothing and everything to fear.  Another race of people, apparently from a world similar to ours, came barreling through the openings, immediately declaring war on all of humanity.  The funny thing was, they were all incredibly small.  The average person stood at about a foot tall.  Apparently, their sudden attack had been a last ditch attempt to take our Earth for themselves.  Some people even speculate that they might not have even known how out-numbered and out-gunned they were until they'd crossed through.  Whatever the reason, they were fighting a losing battle.  With one swift atom bomb we'd effectively wiped their planet from existence.

I didn't think that was very fair, but they had been trying to take over our world.  After that calamity, Earth was never the same.  Governments the world over began making defenses from potential threats coming from other worlds.  From time to time, someone would claim they saw a wild parallel human, which most people dubbed 'the small survivors', or just 'survivors'.  I'd only ever seen dead ones before.  There was carnage all around after the brief and bloody war.  Just last week I'd seen one dead on the side of the road, presumably hit by a car.  It was strange to say the least.  They had another language entirely, which made it a bit easier to consider them animals like the government told us they were.  My name's Grady Solman.  For the most part, I don't really care what happens to the new breed of tiny humans. That was until I met a live one.

Winter was here, and it had just started to snow.  Dad asked me to take the dog out before the snow got too deep and she refused to go outside.  I remember it so clearly.  I'd been standing near the back door, waiting for Frizzie to do her thing.  The crisp air stung my skin with the bitter wind that swept through, blowing snowflakes every which way.  I kept my head down most of the time to keep from getting blasted in the face with below-freezing wind.  Looking up from my downcast gaze, I noticed Frizzie was digging at the edge of our yard.  "Hey!" I called out, rushing over to her, "Frizzie, don't dig in the yard!  You know Mom doesn't like that."  She dashed away, knowing she'd been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to, while I stopped dead in my tracks.

Frizzie had been digging at some weird thing that I'd definitely never seen in our yard before.  It almost looked like a small tent, but you couldn't even fit a little kid in there.  However, it would fit someone about a foot tall.  Sure enough, when I lifted the flap of the tent, a little survivor was lying curled up in a tight ball on the floor.  I sucked in a shocked breath of air.  Pulling my phone from my pocket, I turned on the flashlight with numb hands.  The survivor's skin was pale, and its body looked awfully thin.  I was so sure it was dead that I almost left it out there.  Thankfully, when I moved my phone over to turn off the flashlight, it glared into the survivor's eyes, causing it to groan in pain.  It's still alive!  Quickly, I tore off the top of the tent so I could see it.  The survivor looked wearily up at me and tried to run away, but it barely got up before it collapsed again.  

This time, it went limp as it hit the ground.  Pity swept through me as I watched the little creature; it looked so human-like it was almost eerie.  Carefully, I swept the survivor into my hands, and carried it back inside, calling Frizzie in as well.  Once I was in the warmth of my own home, I raced up to my room with the little creature.  I immediately reached for a blanket before remembering that you were only supposed to warm up someone who'd frozen bit by bit, letting their skin thaw as naturally as possible.  As I stared down at the little survivor that I'd placed on my desk, I noticed a few things.  Firstly, it wasn't an it, but rather a she.  Her raven black hair was cut at the shoulders, and she wore military-style clothing.  She looked a bit young to be in the army, or whatever the survivors had.  Had she fought against us in the war, or did she steal these clothes off someone else?  She was also extremely thin.  I'd lifted the bottom of her shirt just slightly to see if she was injured, and noticed her ribcage practically sticking through her skin.  I also noticed that she was a bit warmer, so I gently wrapped her in a blanket which I held between my hands to try and warm her up.  

Finally warm enough to function, it wasn't long before the survivor came back to life.  Her tiny limbs twitched as though she were dreaming, then she tiredly opened her eyes.  She slowly sat up, taking in her surroundings, but the moment her gaze settled on me, she shot into motion.  Scrambling backwards out of the blankets I’d placed her in, the survivor raced to the far end of my desk in a panic, eyes wide in fear.  "Hey, it's ok," I said gently, trying to calm her down, "You don't have to be scared."  "T'nod hcuot em!"  It was the first time I'd heard their language before.  I was momentarily shocked.  She looked so human that I half expected her to speak perfect english.  "Tahw od uoy tnaw htiw em?" she cried, pressing herself to the wall behind my desk.  Her voice ended in an uptone that usually indicated a question.  My guess was that she wanted to know what happened.  "I found your tent at the edge of my yard," I explained, "You were freezing to death out there, so I brought you in here."

My words were met with a confused stare.  Just as I didn't understand her language, she didn't understand mine.  The survivor shuddered and rubbed her hands over her arms, trying to warm up after abandoning the blanket.  I tried to offer it to her, but the moment I moved closer she yelped like I'd hurt her and cowered behind her arms.  "Alright, it's ok.  I'll back off if you want."  Keeping my voice as calm as I could, and my movements as slow as possible, I stepped away from my desk and sat on my bedside a bit further away.  Before I backed off, I nudged the blanket closer to her so she'd know I wanted her to take it.  Cautiously, the survivor stepped forward and pointed at the blanket.  "Era uoy.. gnivig siht ot em?"  I had no clue what she said, other than the fact that it was another question.  However, I had a guess that she was asking if she could have the blanket I'd left for her.  I nodded and watched as her eyes went wide.  "Uoy deddon.." she responded hesitantly, pointing to the blanket, then to herself, then nodding.

"Yes," I told her, "The blanket's yours."  It was only after she picked it up and dragged it back to her spot by the wall that I noticed her limp.  I gasped, "You're hurt!"  Immediately, she yelped and dropped the blanket, backing away from it.  She'd taken my exclamation as a cry of anger.  I could only guess that she assumed she'd misunderstood what I'd said.  "No, no.  I.. you can have that.  I was just upset about your leg," I explained, pointing at her swollen ankle.  The survivor looked down at her injury, then back at me.  Slowly, she reached for her blanket, and I made no move to stop her.  With a huff, she sat down on it and pulled another part of it over herself, all without taking her eyes off me.  We stared at each other for a while, both of us hesitantly curious of the other.  Eventually, I remembered the more urgent things I needed to take care of.  The survivor's ankle needed ice to keep the swelling down, and she also desperately needed food by the looks of her.

I stood carefully, holding up my hands to show her I meant no harm.  Hopefully her kind even understands that gesture.  She seemed to, though.  She'd sat straight up, but hadn't raced away in fear or cowered behind anything.  "I'm just going to get some things for you.  I'll be right back."  I knew she couldn't understand, but I felt the need to explain myself regardless.  Inching out the door, I let it fall closed behind me and dashed off to the kitchen.  Gathering up a few items like bread, water, and some ice cubes should've been an easy task, but Mom was in the kitchen, and I couldn't get bread, or especially a random ice cube, without her asking me why I needed it.  I could always lie, but I waited for her to leave instead.  A few minutes later, she walked off and I grabbed what I needed.  Back in my room, I made sure to lock the door before anything else.  Either of my parents would make me throw the little survivor back outside if they saw her.

When I turned to my desk, I was greeted by an empty blanket.  "What the..?  Little survivor?  Where'd you go?"  Of course she ran away, I realized after searching the desktop.  She was terrified of me.  Once I left, she had the perfect opportunity to make a run for it.  However, she couldn't have gotten very far.  The door to my room was closed the whole time, and at her height, there was no way for her to open it.  I rummaged through everything I thought she could get into.  My bookshelf, my drawers, my old toy bin.  Finally, I began frantically pulling things out of my awfully messy closet.  I'd just yanked out an old pair of jeans that had fallen to the bottom when I found the survivor.  After grabbing another pair of shorts to cast them aside, I felt something writhe beneath them and let go with a gasp.  She had been cowering in a tight ball underneath them, but now scrambled out and away, slipping through the opening between myself and the closet door.  I watched with slight remorse as she looked wildly around my room for another place to hide before dashing underneath my bed.

Sighing in relief, I brought over the plate of tiny pieces of food and poured out some water into a small shot glass I'd taken for her to drink out of.  "Little survivor?" I called, peering beneath my bed.  She was shaking all over, this time from fear rather than the cold, and her eyes glistened with tears.  I really wish I hadn't frightened her.  I'd just begun trying to get her to trust me with the whole blanket thing.  Now we were back to square one, or maybe even further.  "Poor little thing," I whispered, scooting backwards to give her some space.  "I didn't mean to grab you, I promise."  Again I held my hands up in a harmless gesture.  Her tears slowly dried as she peered out at me from underneath my bed.  "I brought you some things you might want," I offered, gesturing to the plate, "There's also a little bag of crushed ice here for your leg."  She remained fully beneath her hiding spot, but inched closer as though she wanted to take it.  "I tnaw siht," she said shakily, "Uoy wonk I tnaw siht, dna I wonk er'uoy gnivig ti ot em.  Si siht a part?"  

A few sentences followed by yet another question.  The best I could do was try and guess what she'd said and asked.  "If you're wondering whether these are for you, they are.  Look, I'll even put them under here so you can get to them without coming out."  As slowly as I could, I slid the paper plate I'd put everything on underneath the bed beside the survivor.  At first she'd backed away, but as I left the plate sitting there, she edged closer.  I couldn't help but smile as she hesitantly reached out and took a piece of bread off the plate.  She scarfed it down and immediately went back for another helping.  For a brief moment she seemed to forget that I was here entirely, and feverishly ate and drank until she was full.  Once she finished, she peered over at me again.  "S'tahw siht eci rof?  Ho, tiaw.  S'ti rof ym gel, t'nsi ti?  S'taht.. ecin fo uoy I sseug."  A guy could only dream of understanding that.  "Yllautca," she continued, "lla fo siht sah neeb ecin.  I naem, uoy did barg em, tub I kniht taht saw na tnedicca.  Osla, m'I ylriaf erus uoy devas ym efil thginot, yb gnitteg em tuo fo taht mrotswons.  A wef erom setunim dna ti ev'thgim neeb oot etal rof enoyna ot evas em, hcum ssel a tnaig ekil uoy."

Content to listen to her unintelligible ramblings, I sat back and waited for her to continue.  I had to admit, for a being whose kind had waged war on mine, she was awfully cute.  If I could understand her, I imagine she was going on about her life and how she got to be in the deadly predicament I'd found her in.  "Uoy ees, ereht erew sromur fo stnaig gnitaert su ylecin.  D'i demussa, ekil tsom elpoep did, taht yeht erew llat sliat ro spart tes yb ruoy dnik.  Won m'I ton os erus…  Ebyam yeht erew eurt.  Ro ebyam siht si a part.  I t'nod kniht ti si, hguoht."  To my suprise, the survivor cautiously stepped out from beneath my bed.  There was a quiet moment where we looked each other over, similar to the one we shared while she sat on my desk.  

Everything about her was unreal.  Even standing at her full height, she barely came up to my chest, and I was kneeling down.  "Tnaig, nac I tsurt uoy?"  A question, obviously aimed at me.  It sounded important, but she could've said anything from 'can I have more bread' to 'why did you, my people's sworn enemy, save my life'.  She recognized the confused look I gave her and backed down a ways, likely realizing I hadn't understood a word of what she just told me.  "Thgir, uoy t'nac dnatsrednu em," the survivor muttered, "Woh tuoba ew trats htiw gnihtemos reisae, neht?"  Looking up at me, she pointed a finger at herself.  "Ym s'eman Hannah Sivad.  Hannah.  S'taht em.  Dnatsrednu?"  Was that her name?  Hannah?  "You're name's.. Hannah?" I asked questioningly, pointing my own finger at her, though not too close.  She perked up and nodded fervently, which was slightly shocking.  Nodding is the universal sign for yes; I just didn't think that would cross over to other parallel universes too.  Then again, she also understood the gesture that ment I wouldn't hurt her.

"So, you're Hannah?"  She nodded again then pointed at me.  "Sey, ym s'eman Hannah.  Dna uoy era..?"  For once I could easily tell what her question was.  "I'm Grady," I answered, pleased that I could somewhat communicate with her.  "Grady?"  My heart did a leap of excitement when I heard her say my name.  "Yeah, that's it!" I nodded my head happily.  This little understanding is nice, but how can I get her to understand the rest of what I say?  I thought through some ideas as I looked around my room for anything useful, while Hannah sat down to ice her swollen ankle.  Glancing at my desk, I suddenly had an idea.  "Wait right here," I said, gesturing for Hannah to stay put.  She tensed as I stood up, but stayed where she was.  I dug through some papers until I found a blank one, grabbing a mechanical pencil and a clipboard from my desk as well.  Soon, I'd returned to my seat on the floor and fastened the paper in place on the clipboard.  "Even if we write down our languages, they'll probably be too different to understand, but we can draw things to help each other understand what we mean," I explained.

Hannah looked at me curiously and inched a bit closer to see the paper.  "Here, I'll show you."  What did I even want to tell her?  Firstly, I should probably make it clear I'm not going to hurt her, I thought, remembering when she'd hidden from me.  After thinking for a moment, I drew a little stick figure with a broken arm, and looked over at Hannah to make sure she'd seen it.  Once I knew she had, I drew a big X over it and pointed to myself as I shook my head.  "I am not going to do this to you," I said, gesturing to myself and the drawing again.  She glanced confusedly between me and the drawing for a moment, before her eyes slowly widened in understanding.  "Uoy.. Er'uoy ton gniog ot truh em?" she guessed, making all the same gestures I had.  I couldn't tell if her guess was right, but I hoped it was.  "I'm not going to hurt you, alright?" I said again, a bit softer.  "I know I scare you, but I won't hurt you."  Hannah nodded, seemingly understanding what I was saying.  The drawings worked after all.

The next big question I had for her was how she ended up in a tent in my yard.  I'd never seen any signs of survivors out there before.  Were there more of them hiding somewhere, freezing and starving to death like she was?  "Here, let me ask you something."  I began with a crude sketch of Hannah's tent outside, and added little snowflakes around it to try and make the triangle shape I drew look a bit more like the tent.  Then, I drew a little question mark beside it and pointed first up at her, then down at the tent.  Finally, I added an arrow coming from some sketchy trees behind the tent with another question mark beside them.  "Do you understand?" I asked her, "How did you get here?  Where did you come from?"  Hannah stared at my drawings for a long time, then stood up decisively, shaking her head.  "Grady, nac I tsurt uoy ro ton?  Yhw era uoy gniksa erehw I emac morf?  Era uoy gnikcirt em otni gnillet uoy erehw ym pmac si os uoy nac erutpac erom fo su?"  I was stunned by the sudden tone of hostility in her voice.  

"Why are you yelling at me?" I asked confusedly, "I just want to help."  Hannah pointed to the pencil in my hand, then at herself.  She wanted to take a turn drawing so I could understand her.  I put the pencil down and she snatched it right back up, gripping it between both hands.  Holding it up diagonally, Hannah managed to put the pencil tip down to the paper, but she couldn't keep it steady enough to draw anything recognizable.  It was just too big for her to use.  "Wait, let me see it," I said, holding out my hand for the pencil.  Shocked at my hand being so close, Hannah backed away looking almost frightened before she realized what I wanted.  She slowly stepped up to me and placed the pencil in my outstretched hand.  Taking out a piece of lead, I snapped a bit off the top and handed it back to her.  "There, now you can write with something your own size."  Hannah cautiously took the lead from me and started drawing.  

And I thought my drawings were bad.  I honestly had no clue what she'd drawn for me.  When I gave her a confused look instead of an understanding one, she grumbled frustratedly and tried again.  Still, I couldn't make out what she drew.  In frustration, Hannah drew an arrow pointing to some lines and added the caption 'egac' to it.  This was pointless considering I couldn't understand her language.  She seemed to realize this immediately afterwards and started to scratch it out when something clicked in my mind.  "Wait!" I called, reaching out to stop her.  Hannah drew back with a yelp, and I quickly apologized.  It wasn't the drawing that clicked, but rather the word and drawing combined.  The lines she drew over her picture were supposed to be a cage.  She'd labeled it 'egac', but from my upside-down view, it looked like the English word 'cage'.  I sat shocked for so long that Hannah had to snap me out of it.  "Did uoy erugif ti tuo?"  I blinked.  "Write something else," I told her.  She didn't understand, so I drew more arrows to other parts of her drawing and made blanks above them.  "Fill in the rest.  I- I think I might've just cracked your parallel universe language."  

Hannah still seemed confused, but she filled in the blanks and everything clicked.  Backwards words like 'tnet' and 'egarots' appeared on the paper.  "That's it!" I cried, "Your language is backwards!"  Yet, 'Hannah' was still normal.. Are their names not reversed?  I quickly wrote it down and realized why.  Hannah spelled backwards is still Hannah.  Now she was thoroughly perplexed.  "Tahw era uoy gniod?" she asked me, pointing to the paper.  Instead of answering, I wrote a message and quickly reversed the letters.  'your language backwards is my language' became ''ruoy egaugnal sdrawkcab si ym egaugnal'.  Hannah gasped when she saw my translation.  "Uoy.. Siht t'nsi elbissop.." she whispered, looking it over.  "Os tahw fi I.."  Writing her own message in her language, she reversed the letters and waited for my reaction.  The gibberish of 'nac uoy daer siht' became 'can you read this' before my eyes.  "I can!" I exclaimed, nodding happily.  "I can read it!  I can understand you!"

We each celebrated our victory.  Hannah started bouncing on her toes in excitement before painfully remembering her swollen ankle.  She sank back to the floor and threw some ice over it.  'Are you alright?' I asked over the paper.  Hannah nodded, and reached out to respond before realizing she sat a bit too far away to reach.  I scooted both myself and the paper closer.  She gave me a wary look, but didn't back off.  'You did say you wouldn't hurt me, right?' she asked.  Her handwriting was a bit wobbly; she was shaking as she wrote.  I nodded, 'I promise I won't hurt you.'  Letting out a large sigh of relief, Hannah lay down on the floor, exhausted.  A moment later, she shot back up and started urgently writing something down.  'What I was trying to tell you,' she explained, 'is that I wasn't sure if I could trust you.  You wanted to know where my camp was; I thought you were tricking me into telling you by befriending me.  Then you would go out and capture the rest of us.'  Thankfully I'd figured this writing thing out.  I never would've guessed that otherwise.  

'I wasn't asking that because I wanted to capture your people,' I wrote earnestly, 'I wanted to know if there were more of you out there starving and freezing to death.  I thought I could send you back with a bunch of supplies to keep everyone alive.'  Hannah looked up at me in shock.  'You're going to let me go?' she wrote.  'Of course I am,' I replied immediately, 'I'm not holding you captive here.  I only brought you in to keep you from freezing to death.  Besides,' I added, 'there must be people there who are missing you.  I wouldn't tear you away from your own kind like that.'  Hannah sat staring at the paper for a while, eyes starting to water.  'Don't worry,' she wrote in a shaky scrawl, 'there's no one left who will miss me.'

This was one of my favorite shorts I did for writing prompts last year.  I had to code a whole translator to make Hannah’s text easier to type out, but I was very happy with how it looked in the end.

[slocumjoe]

⚠️Request rules⚠️

1; Be specific and unique

For example, the prompt "Sole dies". All characters would be sad, or angry. But the prompt, "Companions travel through a haunted forest and lose each other" has a lot of ways it can go. Vague prompts can be difficult for me to write, as there's often not much to write. Or if there is, it ends up feeling samey, or too short. There's only so much I can write about Sole dying.

Some prompts are answered in canon, and don't need to be answered. For example, Companions react to Sole speaking like the Silver Shroud. You can easily go on a wiki or find a compilation video on YouTube.

Also, I prefer to write about the companions, not Sole. So, requests about the Sole Survivor are likely to sit in the inbox for a while.

2; Be mindful of dark subject matter

Guys. You know miscarriage is a real thing, right? A horrible, traumatic thing that fucks up entire families? And same with rape, or abuse, or anything like that. Use your best judgement asking about heavier topics. These things aren't scenarios to generate angst. They're traumatic events. That real people go through.

I'll never forget following a react blog who was asked to write about miscarriage, only for them to apologize and refuse, as they had suffered multiple miscarriages themselves.

Rule 3; No fetishes or second-hand embarrassment prompts

So, I said be specific and weird...not with your own fetishs, please.

For non fetish stuff, I really do not care for toilet humor. Or anything meant to evoke second-hand embarrassment. This is another 'use best judgement'. I'm very easily grossed out by body fluids/excrement and there's no prompt that I'm willing to do with it.

Rule 4; I don't do Fallout 3 or New Vegas content

Masterlist

Newest first

Reacts V

Freaky Friday Episode

Sole vanishes, oh nooooo

Beach Episode

Companion at the zoo

The Oberland Alien

Sole gets their name tattooed

Sole finds a baby and wants it

Companions play Minecraft

Gage only; Come to the Galactic Zone if you want an asskicking

Companions and a magpie of a person

Sole with bad motor skills

Companions react to a synth of themselves

Companions as Roommates

Modern!Companions and Halloween

Sole just kisses them already

Sole sick but refusing to rest

Sole who cries when yelled at

Sole gets hurt saving their life

Touchy Sole

Overhearing Sole realize they love them

Sole breaks down crying in their arms

Companions work at a grocery store

Companions react to the Scorched Plague

Companions on Social Media

Headcanon posts V

Religion and stuff

Grab bag 4

Drinking habits

Coming out

Who they'd end up with

Losing their virginity

Modern au

Sexuality and ideal partners

Dreams and nightmares part 1

Companions' tells that they love someone

Companions' fursonas

What they'd eat in general

NSFW grab bag 3

Companions and stress

Companions spend time at a settlement

Gage fluffy-shippy-sad headcanons

Interior design

Companion Headcanon Grab‐bag

Gage Catchup Lightning Round

Favorite songs on the radio

NSFW Gage Headcanons

NSFW; Libido/sex drive

NSFW; Intensity in bed

Variety NSFW headcanons 2

Variety NSFW headcanons

Comfort food

How often they bathe

What they do/wear on days off

Danse headcanons

Laughing headcanons

X6-88 Headcanons

Physique headcanons

2 headcanons per companion

1 headcanon per companion

Meta stuff V

Synths as trans allegory for pride month

Polyamory and infidelity in games

Curie's quest is pretty dumb

A bunch of mini-essays on all the companions

Danse and autism

Oc appearance meme

Isadora ramblings and lore drops

Cait breakdown and critique

Minutemen Questline Rehaul

Florence, Isadora, and Gage

Wasteland creatures i want

Gage Name Meaning

The Gage Essay I wrote while baked on leftover lasagna

Thoughts on Piper, Strong, and Codsworth

Strong Character Bingo/Rant

My thoughts on Porter Gage before playing Nuka World

Peer-Reviewing "The Synthetic Truth"

Piper rant 2

I swear I am normal about Piper

Things I love about the companions

Biggest complaints about each companion's writing

Meme stuff V

How id compliment them

Sole gets a pet-claw

Getting Hulk smashed by a baby (game clip)

...hi (game clip)

Bad timing, dude (game clip)

Who smokes weed

War-shta-sure

Cat X6-88

Four frenchspeakers screamingn in a room

Danse's favorite shirt

Egg

muppets

dickless nickolas

mall cop

Memes 2

Memes 1

What the companions get canceled for

AITA For trying to blow up my crush's blimp?

[dgcatanisiri]

I saw a critique of Picard season three put forward as "a story about how only boomers can save the day from the bad thing," and... I can see it, I'm not saying that it's an invalid critique, but at the same time, I don't think it's altogether fair.

Like, for one, I feel like if there's any age-based or generational-base of the storytelling, it's in the realm of "being old does not mean you have nothing to contribute." Which is kind of a big deal when most of the time in media, you see Hollywood specifically trying to draw in and appeal to the demographics of youth, to hook them in and hold them for life. Meanwhile, Picard centered on a character in his nineties played by an actor in his eighties, and aside from Jack Crusher and Sidney La Forge, every major character and actor in the season was older than forty, at least, with the TNG cast all over sixty, with only two under seventy.

It's a pretty big deal, especially when you remember that the last time that Star Trek was directly addressing the aging of its cast, the characters involved were in the fifty/sixty range, and talking like they were near the end of their years of being able to contribute something, that they'd come to the end of their road and were just going to fade away soon after. So while the TNG characters weren't necessarily on the front line and acting as line officers, doing the day to day field work, they were also very clearly shown as being able to contribute to the world they lived in, being able to make the difference.

Plus the framing of Seven of Nine, I feel, makes a refutation of the idea as well - she is, despite being a returning character we the audience already knew, at the head of the "new generation," we see that throughout her framing, particularly in her relationship with Shaw. Not just with her advancement to captain, but also in particular in that last message from Shaw in the finale, where he acknowledges that he's representative of the old ways standing in her way and that if she's writing a new book, it's because the old one needs to be rewritten.

Now, maybe you could look at this in like a "boomers versus millennials/Gen Z" thing, but - and maybe it's just my general trend towards optimism, particularly in my Star Trek - but what I see is NOT generational conflict, but more of a call for generational UNITY. Y'know, the first half of the season, we saw how Sidney's faith and trust in Seven helped save the Titan, because she respected Seven to call her by her name, stopping the infiltrator. Although it was part of the Borg hijack, Jack's connected nature helped to save the day multiple times. And Seven also trusted that Picard and crew could do something against the Borg.

Hell, I could even take this further, and call this a metaphor AGAINST generational conflict, that it's saying that others will try to use generational differences to divide and disrupt, and we need to overcome that - this is something I KNOW I've seen talked about plenty on Tumblr, how we have all this stuff trying to pit millennials and Gen Z against one another, in the same way that millennials and the baby boomers are. That this is an effort by the forces of power (power that goes beyond generation) to keep the masses divided against one another so that they aren't a threat to that power structure.

Because sure, the Supercube and the Borg Queen were destroyed by the TNG crew flying in and saving the day, but Seven and company retook the Titan and held off the assault on Earth long enough that they could do that without Earth and the Federation falling, and a major point is that Jack had to CHOOSE to leave the Collective, that it had to be his decision. Everyone had to work together for that happy ending, rather than alone.

Maybe I am being overly optimistic and taking the best faith interpretation at the expense of something else being involved and at play... But then, isn't that something that Star Trek has always tried to ENCOURAGE, to believe the best in things?

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

Last summer I applied for a job as a library specialist in a small town outside Gainesville. As part of the application I had to go to the librsry in-person and take what was essentially a high school English test, "match these titles to their authors," "what was the main theme of XYZ," etc., really dry and pointless, but the final few questions were relevant to the library position and I absolutely aced them. "What should you do if someone comes in with a dog?" "How would you help a parent find a book for their child if they don't remember the title?" "How would you respond to teenagers playing loud music?" I answered professionally and thoughtfully, and they asked me to come back for an interview. I was told to prepare a children's book storytime presentation with props, so I made a backdrop and little popsicle stick puppets for Tacky the Penguin, my favorite picture book from elementary school.

I had a lot of fun crafting everything and practicing my read-through with funny voices.

I colored in the final map, I just forgot to take a picture of it

Goodly, Lovely, Angel, Neatly, Perfect, and Tacky

"We're going on a penguin hunt, we'll mark em with a switch, then we'll sell em for a dollar and get rich, rich, rich!"

I absolutely bombed the interview. I was a nervous wreck, I kept stumbling over my words, I drew multiple complete blanks during their questions, and a lot of my answers trailed off into "well, yeah, you know what I mean..." Dumpster fire. 57 dead, 193 injured. I spent the next month dreading every single email I got because I was waiting to read the inevitable "unfortunately."

It was so much worse than that.

After enough time had passed I assumed they were simply going to ghost me, so I forgot about it and moved on, and then out of the blue they emailed me back with a form letter that began "dear sir or ma'am," which hurt a lot because I personally spoke to the hiring lady three times and all her other emails (including the form ones) had the courtesy to start with my name in all caps. They took the time to fill in the blank before, but not this time. Didn't even say "unfortunately," they were really blunt, "you were not chosen to move forward with the hiring process." Damn.

Well, I just moved back up to Gainesville and I saw that they county is still hiring for that same position at a different library that's closer to my apartment. I sent out a Hail Mary application thinking they'd reject me sight unseen, but they must have liked my cover letter because they want me to come back and take the test again. I don't remember every single question, but if it's anything like last year's I'll want to brush up on my English literature. I have to go in on Tuesday morning, so I have all weekend to study.

If I pass, they'll interview me again, and this time I hope they don't make me do another puppet show. My dad keeps making fun of me for it, like I just decided to bring puppets into it for no reason when they very specifically asked me to. It was one of the requirements. The word "puppets" was on the rubrick, but my dad acts like I'm mentally disabled, "dese are mah fwiends, dey gib me mowal suppowt, pwease n fank you!" Does he think I just choose to make puppets and bring them to job interviews for shits and giggles? Does he think I'm divorced from reality? Or is he just a heartless asshole who likes being cruel?

My old job paid me $15/hour for 31½ hours per week, $472.50 before taxes, around $420 take-home (88-89%). This library job offers $16.10 for a full 40 hours, $644.00 before taxes, around $570 net if they take out the same percentage. If I round down to 85% instead, I'd take home just shy of $550 per week, which is 131% of what I used to make. My rent is $600 per month, and my I qualify for $0 monthly payments on my student loans under the SAVE Plan, so I'd be flush with cash for once in my life and I'd have a job that doesn't make me want to kill myself!

This would be absolutely perfect! I really hope it works out this time. I know the gist of what they're going to ask me, so I'll be better prepared when it comes time to interview. Wish me luck.

[pttucker]

Hmm. So, after the Gourmet Association, I'm starting to wonder (and worry) about a few things.

They were hardcore trashing Joonghyuk for not being a constellation himself and, thinking about it, I don't think Dokja has ever mentioned Joonghyuk being a constellation? AFAIK he's never mentioned a modifier he may have had or his own stigma or even said something like "oh I'm a constellation now, it took Yoo Joonghyuk X stories to become one" or something like that. On flip side, he's also never outright said that he couldn't be one or that he never became one.

I mean, the way ORV is written, Dokja keeps everything close to the chest so maybe it's just being saved for a big reveal later but it does make me wonder if Joonghyuk can't become one due to the regression constraints (we already know he's not allowed to inherit the stories of other constellations) or maybe it has something to do with being a transcendent.

If he can become one, I wonder if and when he will. Dokja's talk with Anna after the banquet kind of highlighted that Dokja is lowkey "stealing" the achievements from others since Dokja was aware that Iris wouldn't actually die and in fact would have been greatly improved but used it as an opportunity for himself instead. In early scenarios in particular, Dokja says multiple times that he knew to do something because someone else (usually Joonghyuk) did it first. Such as destroying the Throne.

Of course, he doesn't always copy others, especially as we get more into the story. Dokja himself says:

So far, I had always made a different choice from Yoo Joonghyuk. I wasn't Yoo Joonghyuk. Amidst the strong backlash, I always walked on a different path. (Chapter 247)

And when Dokja reads the revised TWSA it's Joonghyuk that begins copying his path at times.

...Which may or may not have been Joonghyuk's path in a later regression that Dokja was copying. At this point it's just one big Joonghyuk-Dokja-Joonghyuk-Dokja circle of future knowledge.

Anyway, it's implied that at least for some choices Joonghyuk would never have received the same story, especially since Dokja also says in the same section that Joonghyuk always makes the same exact choice in certain sections (presumably once he learns that that choice works to move him to the next scenario).

So I'm going back and forth on whether or not Dokja has (intentionally or not) delayed Joonghyuk becoming a constellation. Assuming he can even become one.

It makes me think back on the fact that it's been brought up multiple times that Dokja's companions aren't as far ahead as they would have been if they'd gone with Joonghyuk instead. As well as the fact that they're continuing to progress fine without Dokja. That's almost certainly because Dokja puts everything on himself. As much as he can possibly bear. (He even tried to withstand the pain of Heewon melting Hyunsung for him.) He's so stressed that something will go wrong without him. Honestly, seeing the bazillion ways that Joonghyuk failed probably gave him some kind of unseen anxiety, now that I think about it. Unfortunately, with these life or death scenarios where one little mistake can end everything, he's not completely wrong.

I will not be shocked if we eventually have some kind of breakdown with Dokja completely terrified because he's not able to completely control/be involved in a situation as much as he thinks he needs to. In fact, we literally just saw him begin to panic when Joonghyuk refused to let him take over his body at the Martial Arts Competition. He was so certain he had to help him or else.

Now, onto a completely different tangent, the amount of enemies Dokja is making so quickly is definitely worrying me. 😬 I mean, it was bound to happen eventually, we're almost halfway through the novel. And he did seem to pick up a couple of constellations that are at least interested in him, if not outright allies. But I honestly wasn't expecting him to come right out and say that he's going to get to the end of the scenario or that he's so angry with the way constellations treat the incarnations. He's rocking the boat very hard and very fast, which is Dokja to a T but it makes me fear for him. Especially because Joonghyuk isn't also a constellation (yet?). Or at the level of transcendence where he can help him against higher grade constellations. Dokja's this itty bitty baby constellation who's heavily relying on the goodwill of other more powerful constellations. Who don't always help him even when they like him...he's had to trick some of them into helping in the past.