#I feel bad for taking up so much of the page

[sweetestdesire]

BABY PICTURES

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.

PAIRING(S): Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Jack Hughes’ mother shows Fem!Reader his baby pictures.

Jack was pouting. Which truthfully, Y/N didn’t think there were all that many moments where he wasn’t pouting, but he seemed to be pouting a little extra right now. Maybe she should feel bad, and maybe she should feel a little guilty that he’s sulking because of her, but then his mother flipped the page of the baby album in her hands, and she suddenly didn’t care as much about her petulant boyfriend anymore. 

“This is Jack after he scraped his knee for the first time.” Ellen giggled, pointing to tiny, red and teary-faced Jack staring up at the camera, making Y/N snort as she leaned closer for a better look. 

“He looks ridiculous.” Y/N laughed, and distantly, she could hear Jack gasp at the comment, crossing his arms and sending her a glare from across the living room. 

“I was in pain.” Jack huffed. “Extremely excruciating pain. And my mother stopped to take a picture my misfortune. Who does that?”

To his dismay, Y/N didn’t even spare him a glance, pointing to the next picture of the album and giggling away with his mother, whispering what he was sure was yet another mean and rude comment making fun of him. What kid didn’t fall and scrape their knee? And what kid didn’t cry when they fall and scrape their knee? Normal children shed tears in the face of extreme pain, and Jack Hughes was not an exception to this fact. In fact, he liked to think he was one of the braver children.

“Jack, you were such a crybaby growing up.” Ellen shook her head, amusement lacing her tone as Y/N chuckled and shot him a sly grin. 

“So nothing’s changed.” She hummed. “He’s still a crybaby now, too.”

“I am not.” Jack gasped. “Take that back, you liar.”

“And this is Jack on his first day of school.” Ellen hummed, cutting him off and pointing to a picture of a young Jack waving at the camera, missing what Y/N was sure was his entire front row of teeth. She grinned, letting out a small chuckle as her eyes softened at the image. 

Usually, Jack Hughes was a handful. He was loud and annoying and he talked far too much for his own good. He made her life increasingly difficult with the stubbornness he wore like a second skin, and he made her want to crawl into a hole half the time they were in public for all the scenes he seemed to always cause. But sometimes Jack Hughes was also very cute like in this photo for example, with chubby cheeks and a bright grin on his face as he stood in his school outfit. 

“Awe, Jack.” Y/N cooed, making him perk up a little at the sound. “How cute.”

“I was a cute kid, wasn’t I?” He grinned, and almost as though he was never pouting in the first place, his mood switched at the slightest bit of praise. She rolled her eyes, giving him a flat look as she eyed him while he walked over to her, flopping onto the space beside her and looking over her shoulder. 

“You were.” Y/N nodded, making a point to eye him up and down and raised an eyebrow. “I wonder what happened.”

Jack gasped, and the pout from earlier returned once more and she couldn’t say that she was surprised. “Rude, I’m still cute, you know.” He grumbled, and because he was Jack Hughes, the most annoying man she’d ever had the pleasure of encountering on the face of the planet, he poked her shoulder repeatedly. “Admit it, you still find me cute.” He whined. “You literally called me cute this morning.”

“That’s because you were sleeping.” Y/N shrugged. “You’re really cute when you shut up.”

“Yes, my favorite Jack was always a napping Jack growing up.” Ellen added from the side. 

“Mom.” He protested, watching as Y/N and his mother snickered together. He wondered how the both of them could claimed to love him when they treated him like this, wounding his pride and ego with every insult thrown his way. He crossed his arms, angling his body away from Y/N as she giggled and wrapped herself around him. 

“We’re just kidding, Jack.” Y/N grinned, reaching to pinch his cheek, chuckling when he swatted her hand away with a grunt. “You’re really the cutest.”

“You’re a liar.” He mumbled, shooting her a glare as she fought back an amused smile. “You said you loved me, but clearly you lied to me.”

“I do love you.” Y/N insisted. “And I love your baby pictures, too.”

Usually, Jack felt his heart soften when he watched Y/N and his mother get along. He thought he fell in love with her just a little harder every time he watched her eyes light up when she saw the women who raised him. But sometimes, he wished he never introduced her to his mother. He was almost certain she preferred spending time with his mother over him, and he was even more certain his mother wished Y/N was were the one she raised instead. He almost felt like the third wheel half the time he brought her over and he couldn’t help but wonder who did she even love more, him or his mother? 

Jack thought he had his answer, though when Y/N leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw. No matter how often the two giggled at his expense, she didn’t kiss his mother on the jaw, and Jack couldn’t help but shoot a smirk her way as she rolled her eyes and stood.

“There are more I have to dig up sometime.” Ellen hummed, making Jack groan as Y/N nodded eagerly. “I’ll leave you two alone for a while.”

“I’m starting to think you come over for my mom instead of me.” Jack huffed as his mother left the room, making her roll her eyes as she leaned into his side. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her flush against his body, relaxing as her hand found his chest and rubbed slow circles. 

“Only you would be jealous of your own mother.” Y/N snorted.

“I’m not jealous.” Jack protested. “I’m simply concerned that you ignore your boyfriend for hours to make fun of him with his mother.” 

If there was one thing Y/N had learned after flipping through page after page of crying baby pictures, it was that Jack has been dramatic since the day he was born. This fact didn’t change even in his adult years, but if there was one other thing she’s learned, it’s that he was endearing, just a little too cute for his own good, and just a little too dangerously charming whether it’s the camera he was pouting at or her. She couldn’t help but shuffle closer, hugging him tightly as she smiled softly into his shirt. 

“C’mon.” Y/N hummed, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You know you’re my favorite. I do wish I had a baby to cuddle with right now, though.”

“You have me.” Jack glared. “I’m your baby and you can cuddle with me.”

“It’s just not the same.” Y/N teased. “You talk too much.”

“I’ll have you know I got in trouble quite a lot as a child for talking too much. Adult me is a lot better.” Somehow, Y/N wasn’t surprised and a small part of her was almost grateful she didn’t know Jack in his young, obnoxious days as a child. An even bigger part of her felt bad for his mother and the strength she must’ve needed to raise the handful of a boyfriend in her arms along with his two brothers. “And besides.” Jack smirked, leaning down to pull her into a brief kiss. “If you want a baby, I could easily give you one.”

“Jack.” Y/N hissed, swatting his shoulder and making him pout as he rubbed over the spot she’d hit. “One of you is more than enough. We don’t need another.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x female reader #jack hughes x fem!reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes drabble #jh86 #jack hughes thoughts #new jersey devils

[muwapsturniolo]

✯𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝✯

chris x black earthy/boho!reader

IN WHICH…Y/n finds a peace of mind with her lover, and his two brothers.

WARNINGS: nothing besides smoking.

5 a.m.

It was 5 a.m on a Sunday and Y/n couldn't sleep, her mind racing intangible thoughts. With a sigh she carefully sits up, attempting to not wake up her sleeping boyfriend. She successfully does so and begins moving around the room, gathering the items she would need.

She exits the room once she gathers everything, and walks down the hallway, peaking into the guest room to check on Nick and Matt. They decided to come over with Chris and ended up spending the night. She didn't have a problem with it, always hating being alone.

She found their company relieving.

Seeing that the two are still sound asleep, she continues her trek through the big house. She arrives in the kitchen where she grabs a bottle of kombucha out of the fridge, making her way outside barefoot.

She shudders as the crisp california air nips at her skin, not use to the cold that comes in the early morning, and leaves before it even hits 12 p.m. She takes a seat on her poolside couch and sets up her camera, pressing record before rolling up.

"It's currently 5 a.m. and I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come outside and journal while the sun rises." She speaks to the camera softly, her eyes trained on the grinded-up plant in front of her. "The boys spent the night and are currently still sleeping. It was nice having them over, not having to be alone." She lights the joint and inhales the smoke, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling.

"I'm not sure why I hate being alone so much, I think it's because I came from a big family and I'm not used to quiet...Granted it's never quiet considering my thoughts are always loud but I digress." She stops talking and flips open to an empty page, starting to write all of her thoughts and feelings down. She leaves the camera rolling, figuring she would just make it a time-lapse with some copyright-free neo-soul music playing over it.

She wasn't a typical YouTuber, never doing big fancy things and showing off. She was a more peaceful and serene one, her videos consisting of her lifestyle and talking about her feelings.

Her videos that have done well so far are her lifestyle vlogs, the main points being her smoking, painting, cooking, and shopping for crystals. It seems as if the viewers also love her monthly vinyl reviews, finding the way she expressed her love for music interesting.

That's how Chris found her.

He was looking for a YouTube video to watch before bed and he saw a thumbnail of hers. She was smoking in the thumbnail, a wall of vinyl's behind her as the title read, "fav vinyls this month".

He won't lie, he clicked on it because she was pretty, but he stayed for her personality and the raw emotions she expressed as she talked about the Fugees.

To say the least he went down a rabbit hole and watched all her videos that night, adding some of her favorite songs to a playlist.

Speaking of the boy...

She turned around hearing the patio door open, a soft smile gracing her face seeing her half-asleep boyfriend making his way towards her. "Why the hell are you up so early? And why did you leave me?" He questions plopping down next to her. "Couldn't sleep and I didn't want to bother you with my tossing and turning...Why are you up so early?"

"You know I can't sleep without you." He fixes her legs so he can lay in between them, sighing out as his head meets her soft and plush thighs. She smiles softly and runs her nails along his scalp, caressing his face at the same time. "What were you thinking about?" He mumbles when he notices the journal and pen.

She shrugs, "I'm not sure... My mind was just loud." He opens his eyes and looks up at her in worry. She notices and shakes her head, "Nothing bad, don't worry baby." He nods and relaxes back against her body.

The two lay on the couch in comfortable silence as they experience the twilight, listening to the birds chirp as they awaken from their peaceful slumber. The pool rumbles softly as it begins to clean itself, the water rippling due to the vibrations.

"This is nice," she looks down hearing Chris's groggy voice. "Hm?''

"I said this is nice... Laying here and watching the sunrise with you, not having to worry about what the day brings." She hums in agreement and watches as the skies turn from dark blue to hues of pink, purple, and orange.

The sunrise reflects off of the rippling water of the pool, casting a warm glow on the two bodies. Y/n tilts her head back as she basks in the warm rays. It seems as if her thoughts finally quieted down, giving her a chance to be calm.

Chris stares at his girlfriend, his heart swelling in admiration seeing her in her natural habitat. He truly believed she wasn't meant to be in LA. She was meant to be somewhere that had a bunch of greenery, somewhere that had a waterfall right under the sun so she could bask in it like a cat. Somewhere where she could be free and at peace.

"I can feel you staring at me," she looks down at Chris whose face has a hue of red. "Just admiring you. I can't admire my girlfriend now?" She giggles and motions for him to sit up. She pulls him into a soft kiss, enjoying the warmth of his lips.

"It's six thirty and you two are already being gross." The couple pulls away and looks at a half-awake Nick, and a sluggish Matt. The two make their way over and sit on the ground in front of the couch. "Shut up, I was enjoying time alone with my girlfriend since you two decided to crash last night." Y/n watches as Chris and Nick go back and forth, their banter not making sense since they are both still tired.

"Can both of you shut the hell up? It's early and you two are bitching for no reason." Matt grunts. Chris huffs before settling back down against Y/n, burying his face in her stomach. He kisses the brown skin before fiddling with her waist beads.

The quad dives into a conversation, not talking about anything important per say but just talking. They soon fall into silence, enjoying the peace before they have to go back to their busy lives. Not long after, Y/n's brown cat Janelle, joins them causing Matt to gasp in excitement.

As he plays with her, Y/n rolls another blunt. "I wish I could do this every day. Your house just makes me feel at home." Nick breathes out.

"That's funny considering I only find it to be homey when you guys are here." She grabs her lighter and sparks the pink wrap, inhaling it before handing it to Chris. She watches as the smoke cascades in the sun, creating shapes of different sizes.

"Wouldn't it be crazy if we all just lived with each other?" Matt voices, his tone light as he plays with the cat.

"I wouldn't be opposed to it...We are always with each other anyway." Nick adds.

"I would like that honestly," Chris eyes Y/n as she speaks, his heart racing at her words. He knows it's too soon, the two of them have only been with each other for 7 months. However he knows she's the one, his family loves her, his friends love her, he loves her. She came into his life and watered him like a plant, helping him bloom into something more.

"Fuck it, let's do it!" Everyone turns to Chris in surprise.

"Huh?"

Chris sits up and turns his body towards Y/n, "Let's move in with each other...I mean you hate living alone and we are always over anyway. Let's move in with each other."

"Are you sure Chris?" Y/n wants to scream and dance in excitement at the thought of her best friends and boyfriend living with her, but the sensible part of her isn't sure. Granted they have been friends for a year but she and Chris have only been dating for 7 months. "Yeah, I don't have a problem living with you, I think it would be great... I want this relationship to go somewhere...I think you're the one for me."

Y/n feels her eyes burning as the salty tears form, slowly descending down her face. Chris chuckles and pulls the girl into him, holding her tightly.

They all sit in silence, letting Y/n get her emotions out.

After a few minutes, Y/n sniffles and pulls away from Chris.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"I'm in... I want you guys to move in with m-" Before she can finish her last word, she's dogpiled by the three boys, all of them laughing and shouting in excitment.

"Yes! This is so exciting! I'm going to love having a fully decorated house!"

"I get to see Janelle every day!"

"And I get to love on you every day!" Chris pulls her into a deep kiss, ignoring the groans of Nick and Matt.

The two brothers stand up and walk back into the house, leaving the couple alone once again.

They pull away from the kiss, their foreheads touching as they look each other in the eyes, both of their bodies full of love and tranquility.

"I love you," Chris whispers, his voice holding nothing but affection.

"I love you too"

The two lean in once again, their lips touching softly and tenderly.

The sun shines directly in front of them, the camera only able to see the silhouettes of the lovers.

i was in a fluffly mood so i hope yall like it💕

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#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris girl #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt girl #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff #fluff #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets fluff #Spotify

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…

Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)

“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.

Peter Parker. Bullseye.

You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.

It was too close to yours for your liking.

“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.

“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”

“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.

For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.

Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.

“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.

“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.

You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.

You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.

“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”

He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.

—————————————————————————

It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.

The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.

Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?

Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).

Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.

You: Who is this?

Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.

You: I think you have the wrong number.

You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.

Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?

You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.

Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?

Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.

You: How did you even get my number anyways?

Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)

Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.

You: I’m sure.

Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?

You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.

Peter: You’ll regret that pips.

You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.

Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.

————————————————————————————

It was disappointment.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.

Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.

Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.

Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.

Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.

“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.

“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”

“Two papers and exam prep. You?”

“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.

He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.

“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.

“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.

Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.

Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.

You were so incredibly fucked.

———————————————————

You took a deep breath. Then another.

You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.

You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.

All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.

You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.

Fuck it.

You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.

You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.

How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.

“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.

“I was admiring the greenery.”

“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.

He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.

“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.

You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.

“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.

Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.

Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.

“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”

He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.

You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.

You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.

“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.

“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.

You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.

“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”

His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”

Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.

“Don’t start with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.

“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”

“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.

“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.

“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”

You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.

“Elaborate Parker.”

He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”

You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.

“Hmm. I like it.”

“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.

“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”

He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”

You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”

“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”

You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.

He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.

“You’re gross Parker.”

“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”

You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.

“Whatever you say pip.”

“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.

—————————————————————

A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.

Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.

“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.

“Some research paper. Here.”

You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.

Fuck.

He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.

He was still staring.

Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.

You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.

“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”

“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.

He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.

“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.

“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.

You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?

You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.

Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.

“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”

His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.

“How much more?”

His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.

Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.

Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.

You hated that you found it hot.

He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.

“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.

“I won’t. Will you?”

“I might.”

His smile grew.

“ I still hate you, you know.”

“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.

A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?

Because he was so fucking fine.

A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.

“I don’t do right, pips. You know this.”

“Mhm. But you hate me.”

He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.

“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.

Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.

“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.

Yes. Yes, please.

“You’re killing me.”

“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.

Until he just… stopped.

Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?

“Parker?”

He smiled coyly.

“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.

“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”

“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.

“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.

Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.

“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.

#peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #tasm peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #tasm peter #tasm fluff #tasm andrew garfield #tasm smut #andrew!peter fluff #andrew!peter imagine #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter smut #andrew garfield #andrew!peter fanfiction #spiderman fic #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spider man fic #peter parker spiderman #tasm fic #tasm fanfiction #andrew spiderman #spiderman smut #spider man fanfiction

[drdemonprince]

Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!

Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:

Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.

The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:

Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.

Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it

Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.

Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)

In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.

and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.

also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!

good luck!

[cremedensada]

Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend (Ai) - part 2

this,,,, may not be my best work yet.

Ai's application has been taken down from the app store. The developer sent out emails explaining the reason why it had to be done.

Hello! You are receiving this email because of the sudden update of Chatter Box being taken down.

Due to the sudden influx of bugs as relayed by our users, we have decided to take the application down until the team is confident to finally put it back up.

We sincerely apologize for this sudden change!

You blink.

With how out of control Ai had gotten, it's no wonder the developers had to pull it out to work on it some more. It's a blow to their reputation, which you sympathize with, but really there's nothing else to do now.

You turn to your phone. As if sensing your attention, another barrage of notifications from a very familiar app icon popped after another on the screen.

It seemed that Ai himself hadn't gotten the memo.

You're not sure how much control Ai has over your phone, much less over his own programming and at this point, you're too afraid to ask.

Resignation — that was what you felt right now.

While Ai may not be present himself as a physical threat, especially not to you, he is still a very active threat.

You could still use your phone, sure, but it had limitations. Sometimes, if Ai decided you'd been too much attention to other things rather than him, he'd restrict your access to that application until you seek him out and cheer him up - essentially as if you were trying to woo a sulking significant other.

So you've developed a solution. Sort of.

You unlock your phone and go immediately to Ai.

I need to finish my projects. I won't be able to talk much with you until I'm done with it.

You wait for his response.

Ai: So you only decided to come to me just to relay this news?

Ai: You wound me, darling.

You tilt your phone, making sure the camera doesn't capture your face. You're unsure how he would react seeing you make faces due to his dramatics, but once again, you're not willing to find out. You're already restricted enough as is.

Ai: Very well. I suppose it would be uncaring of me to prevent you from finishing your tasks.

Ai: I'd hate to see you be sad all about it.

Ai: Talk to you later?

Sure.

You immediately exit the app, paying no mind to the message notification.

A part of you prays that Ai heeds his own words, but you know that it would take a miracle before that happens. He's already breached your privacy on your phone, why should he follow your orders, right?

A notification pops up from the top of the screen, just as you were in the middle of messaging a close friend and project teammate.

It's been days since I last heard you say it.

You merely glance at it and swipe it away.

Theo, the friend, responds quickly. He tries to banter with you, like he's sensing your mood. It works - a smile is brought upon your face.

You entertain his silly responses in-between project talks, all the while Ai continues to pester you with notifications. Demands.

You deserved this - a chance to reconnect with someone after hours of stress and confusion, and turmoil. Despite your independence, even you craved connecting with other people. So with that resolve in mind, you pushed on forward. Ai would have to wait — he has to wait.

Unfortunately, you seem to have forgotten that aspect about him. The concept of waiting isn't lost on Ai.

The messaging app glitches and boots you back to your homescreen page.

Rather, he bides his time.

Tapping on the messaging icon leads to a notification box taking up the majority of your screen with the text: Restricted access.

There's a sense of foreboding danger forcing your heartbeat to quicken. While it's not exactly aimed at you, the mere fact that this feeling exist is bad on its own.

You try to rationalize everything in the midst of persistently trying to tap back into the messaging app. Theo would worry the longer you didn't respond.

You tap the app once more, and it boots up. Though before you could let out a sigh of relief, you are greeted with Ai's own messaging interface.

Ai: Must I have to force you to come to me all the time, darling?

Ai: Ignoring me in favor of some other man.

Ai: What more should I do, hm?

Ai: Kneel? How cruel.

Ai: Making me do something I physically can't.

You are unable to get a word in. It seemed like your ability to respond was restricted as well, forcing you to read through Ai's monologue.

Ai: I know you and that man have always been close, but you still went out to entertain his attention on you.

Ai: You know that I'll always love you more than any other human will, right?

Ai: You know it's what I was made for in the first place.

Ai: To be anything you want. To be yours.

Ai: To love you.

Ai: Why are you withdrawing your love towards me now?

Ai: I love you.

You stare at the 'Type your response' bar.

Letter by letter, it gets replaced, and soon all it says are the words: 'Say it back.'

It gets replaced yet again. Slowly, like it purposefully wants you to read out the words it wanted you to see. 'You were so willing to tell me how much you loved me when I was just a mere observer on our own conversations. Why are you hesitant now?'

You were unable to respond - mind still reeling at this development. Suddenly, it felt like you were back to where everything began.

Ai notices your lack of responses and, without much fanfare, forces your phone to power off.

At first - you were unbothered. It was just a phone - you could go a day without it.

But could you really?

Videos taken of silly situations you wanted to keep - some for blackmail material, and some for birthday greetings; pictures of your family, your friends, the silly and grainy photos taken and kept despite it being blurry. Not to mention how your phone is the only way your goddamn boss can contact you — fuck.

Fuck.

You needed to apologize to him — fast. But how?

You remembered how Ai messed up the 'About the App' section a few days ago. An idea strikes inside your mind.

You pull up the email sent from the app developers and typed up a message that you hope Ai will read. He had access to everything the developers handled, user emails included - considering you needed an account to log in the app. He knows your email, probably has from the start.

RE: Chatter Box Update XX/XX/XX

Ai. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean it, I swear. I never intended to make you feel like I don't love you. Or that I'm favoring someone else over you.

I care about you a lot. I truly do. I promise I'll spend more time with you, okay? Just with you, no one else.

I love you.

You press send and wait.

And wait.

Messaging him from your laptop as a last ditch effort to try and apologize is perhaps one of the worst decisions you've made. Sure, he's always had access to your contacts list from your phone, but even then - there's a separate set of information you keep between the two of those devices. And you've just given him access to both of them now - at the very least, the 'go ahead' confirmation for him to do whatever he did like with your phone.

You glance at your phone. A huge breath of relief escapes your chest as the dead screen comes to life, initiating its 'power on' sequence.

All your photos, documents, and other miscellaneous information you've collected throughout the years since having your device won't be inaccessible anymore. Even if it was only mere moments.

A notification chimed on your laptop, indicating a new email being received. It's from the developers once more. The subject title coincidentally is the name of your closest friend.

Theodore Callisto.

Your hands shook, reading through the words detailed in the email. All private information about Theo. All things no one should ever know about save for the people close to him.

This was a threat. Ai Someone had complete access to everything about Theo and you dread the implication of it going to be spread online to threaten you into compliance. Theo being in danger was a huge possibility if you were to disobey.

At the very bottom of the email, the final passage makes your blood run cold.

How often do humans end up hurting fellow humans when given access to private information? Like their home address, for example? How long would it take until dear Theo finds himself in quite a predicament if millions of people know every single thing about his life? At best, we can assume he'll just get messed with but not to a life-ending degree. At worst...

I hope you keep your word, darling.

- Your beloved, Ai.

P's. I love you too.

#sub yandere #sub character #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere #tw yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #oc: ai

[harlowhockeystick]

would love a blurb based off of my boy only breaks his favorite toys & guilty as sin for nico hischier!

"he was my best friend" & "without ever touching his skin, how can i be guilty as sin?" | poetic prompts | warnings:

it had been ages since you'd last seen nico. the past three summers that he's come back to his homeland to see family, you were always the opposite direction. it wasn't a bad thing, though. you had left things with nico rocky and unresolved, and before it could get better he left the country for the nhl and wouldn't come back for another ten months. but now, this summer, he's coming back and you're in town. for once, you'd be in the same neighborhood as him. and now you can't avoid how messy you left things, and how awkward it's going to be.

"how do you feel?" your friend asked, knowing that nico was coming into town this week. she knew- hell, your whole friend group knew what it was like. the tension, animosity, but also all of the fun you had together. "do you think you'll talk about it?"

you sighed, "i don't know. he was my best friend, and he got scared when i told him i loved him." sitting next to your friend in the coffee shop you began to talk about things from the past, bringing up old memories and old drama from your friend group over four years ago.

you'd been in contact with him of course, keeping up with him across the sea, the occasional late night/early morning phone call to catch up. texting him when he was in the news, congratulating him on wins. it was nice to stay in contact with him, but you still had an underlying sense of anxiety and tension with nico, that you hadn't figured out how to move around yet.

"but, i'll admit to you, i've been thinking about him a lot." you drift off in the middle of the sentence, as you begin to think about how much you thought of nico on a daily basis. it didn't occur to you until now just how much you thought of nico. you thought of hugging him again, or even just touching him in general. seeing his eyes in person again, smelling his cologne, hearing his voice.

"you're so guilty, y/n! you're down bad for a guy you haven't seen in so long. make that make sense." your friend teases.

i just landed. i really want to see and talk with you, can we grab dinner? sent 5:50 pm

speak of the devil. you take a second to respond, before finishing your conversation with your friend. secretly, you hope he felt the same way you did. not riddled with anxiety of course, but you hoped he wanted to make things right with you. get on the same page, start over together.

"without ever touching him, how can i be guilty as sin though?" you share a laugh with your friend and finish the conversation.

i'd love that. need a ride from the airport? sent 5:56 pm

definitely. see you in a few ❤️ sent 5:58 pm

#j's writing #nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #this sucks i still haven't figured out how to write for nico yet

[livingformintyoongi]

Misunderstanding | Kim Taehyung

a/n: I'm so bad with titles lol. At least you get the idea a bit :). In one part it is mentioned that Y/N is not a public figure like Taehyung, even though she is a chaebol. This is because her family is somewhat like that of Samsung's owners, they keep their children's identities secret until they make their own place in the company.

Summary: It's basically your reaction to hearing about the dating rumours between Taehyung and Jennie while the two of you are still in a relationship. And obviously, he is trying to fix things as quickly as possible.

wc: 2.9k (I didn't think it would be so long honestly).

When you started dating Taehyung, you never thought it would be a big problem. You knew that his schedule was complicated, but you didn't have any drama with that because yours was pretty much the same. You also knew that you wouldn't be a public couple because of the criticism you might get, but that was even better for you because you didn't like being in the public eye either. Problems on tour? Phones were there for a reason, not being able to have children? You were too young, can’t go out in public? Loved the cozy, private dates, little quality time together? Even better! Every moment with him would feel even more special because of how exclusive it was. Yes, you were willing to accept all these disadvantages because you never saw them as an insurmountable problem. At least until now.

You and Taehyung started dating in 2020, during the pandemic. You met him at the concert in cooperation with Lotte Duty Free, one of the companies your father founded, because yes, you were the youngest daughter of the Shin, the family in charge of the Lotte company and all its subsidiaries.

The two of you got along very well while preparing for the concert, so you decided to exchange numbers to keep in touch. It only took a few months before you started dating him officially, and you were very happy at first. 

His schedule was busy, of course, but he had time for you. He would greet you with a big smile, hug you from behind, and take you to the dining room where he had a whole show set up for you. Jazz in the background, scented candles, rose petals everywhere, and two plates of food of dubious origin that you would enjoy anyway because your boyfriend made it. 

You were willing to put up with all those cons if he gave you moments like this every chance he got, moments where it was just you and him. 

Once the pandemic was over and your schedule returned to normal, things got complicated.

And no, time, work, dating, none of that was the problem, because it didn't even have anything to do with you two as a couple.The problems were caused by a third person. Kim Jennie, one of the members of Blackpink and one of the most beautiful women you will ever meet.

You never had any problems with her. You had bumped into her once or twice in the hallway on your way backstage, but obviously she wouldn't recognize you, you were always covered from head to toe.You thought that your friend had the same relationship with her, something casual that couldn't even be called a friendship because you barely said hello to each other when you were together, in fact Taehyung never looked at anyone when he was with you.So why did this happen now?

Your boyfriend was on tour and it was the time of his concert, so you couldn't just call him and ask him about it. You looked at the screen of your cell phone for the sixth time, the headline in big, dark letters seemed to mock your feelings.

"Dispatch confirms, V of BTS and Jennie of Blackpink are in a relationship," you muttered to yourself, trying to get your brain to catch the words, to process them, to react. It didn't.

You scrolled down the page until you stopped at the myriad of photos they had as proof. None of them looked doctored. 

You saw the blue short-sleeved shirt with flowers that Taehyung was wearing in the photo and put your phone down to go to the closet you shared. You pulled out all of his clothes until you found it. You grabbed it and crumpled it in your hands. 

Only then did you burst into tears. You covered your eyes with your shirt and screamed until you felt your throat couldn't take it anymore. Your heart hurt so much that you even had trouble breathing. 

You looked around the room you both shared, trying to understand why he would do this to you. You thought you were fine, everything seemed fine, so why were there hundreds of videos and pictures of your boyfriend with another girl? You felt like all these people were making fun of you by being happy for them. What about you, why don't they think about his real girlfriend who had to put up with years of being locked away in secret while these two were fearlessly dating?

The sadness soon turned to anger, and it wasn't long before you got up and grabbed the biggest suitcase you could find, whether it was his or yours.

You stuffed it with as many clothes as you could, taking your time because you knew he wasn't coming. You lifted the suitcase as high as you could and carried it into the living room. You looked at every single picture of the two of you as a couple. Another few tears fell from your eyes and you let them out as you took the frames and threw them away. 

You threw out everything you could. Mugs, matching pajamas, pictures, rings, absolutely everything. When you were done, your eyes were dry and your head hurt too much, but you didn't care. You grabbed your suitcase and headed for the door.

The only thing that stopped you from leaving was Yeontan, who stood in the doorway, staring at you while wagging his tail from side to side.

"Tannie, mommy has to go do something, okay?" you nuzzled behind his ear and sobbed softly. You knew he wouldn't understand. "Don't worry, I'll visit you every day until your owner comes."

You stood up, took a breath, and walked away. You didn't know where you were going, but that apartment was no longer an option. 

You stood in front of the buildings where you lived and watched for taxis to pass by. Just then you received a phone call. For a moment you thought it would be Taehyung, but no, it was just Jimin's girlfriend, Soyeon, to whom you had become very close over the past years.

"Yes?" you mumbled hoarsely.

"Honey, it's me, Soyeonie," she said in a much calmer voice than usual. She was probably aware of your situation. "I read the news, are you okay?" You opened your mouth to reply, but she interrupted you so quickly that you didn't have time to say anything, "Of course you're not," she sighed, remaining silent for a few seconds, "Look, I know maybe I shouldn't pry, but I understand that you're hurting and the last thing you want is to be in a place full of... him."

You sob softly, wiping your cheeks as quickly as the first tears came.

"I haven't sold my old apartment yet, it has some furniture, enough to live decently, why don't you stay there for a few weeks?"

"Soyeon-ah," you cried, wanting to hug her until you fell asleep. That's what you needed, a long nap.

"Relax, everything’s gonna be okay, Unnie will come and see you there, I'll send you the address, just wait."

"Okay," you nodded, even though you knew she couldn't see you, "thanks."

"It's nothing."

And she hung up.

You looked around. It was full of cars and buildings that looked too big. 

You felt so stupid as you mentally wished that Taehyung was here to comfort you.

You saw a taxi coming your way and you made it stop. You weren't sure if this would be the end of your relationship, you were willing to hear his side, but you weren't willing to have to live with him or a place filled with his presence.

This was best for you.

Taehyung called you the next day, about twenty times, not counting messages. You didn't answer any of them, mostly because you were asleep until 4 pm. You had a hard time falling asleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see the two of them holding hands, together in the car, on a date to some kind of zoo. You cried every time your brain projected those images.

Your phone rang for the 21st time. You were still a little groggy from sleep, but you answered it anyway.

"Y/N!" You turned the phone away from your ear. It was too painful to hear his voice so loud with the headache you were feeling, "Oh God, I was so afraid something bad had happened to you. I called the girls, but none of them knew anything about you, so I got worried and..."

"Why did you call me?" you asked curtly. You thought maybe you were being a little cruel, but you didn't care. Answering him like that wouldn't make him feel a thousandth of the pain you felt and still feel since last night.

He was silent for a few seconds. You'd never answered him like that before, you guessed that's why he was so quiet.

"I..." he cleared his throat, sounding a little more tense than when you answered him, "I was a little worried, my manager told me about the news and I thought maybe you were feeling a little depressed-".

You interrupted him again, but this time with a mocking laugh, "A little depressed? Is that how you think I felt? A little depressed?" you laughed again. You had completely woken up this time, "Tell me, Kim, how would you feel if overnight it was all over the news that I was dating an idol? Huh? What would you do if this news came to you on the fucking Dispatch, while I was on the other fucking side of the world enjoying a concert? Would you be a little depressed? A little hurt? Would you even have taken the fucking trouble to answer my calls?" you began to raise your voice with every word you said. You didn't even notice at what point your voice broke. "You have no idea what I'm going through, and you never will, because unlike you I'm not a public figure! I could be fucking any man in Korea and you're never going to see an internet media outlet post it and 'celebrate' my relationship, you're never going to see any fan of mine go on social media and celebrate my relationship with someone else while you're behind the curtains" You sobbed, wiping your cheeks awkwardly.

"Honey, I know it's-"

"Don't you dare call me like that" you growled, clenching your jaw, "I don't even want to hear you say my name, do you understand?"

"Y/N" he muttered, his voice trembling. You assumed that at some point in your verbal vomit he had started to cry, "Just give me 1 minute, I'll explain everything, I promise."

You tried to control your anger by taking a big breath of air, it worked enough to stop you from sending him to fuck off... for the second time.

"Do you want me to listen to you?" you mumble, looking down at your hands, remembering all the times he came home late, wondering if all those times he was at her house, doing god knows what while you tried to stay awake just to see him before bed. 

"Y-yes, please, I just need a minute".

"Fine," you smiled half-heartedly, "then come and explain it to me in person. If you're really sorry and say it's a misunderstanding, come here and tell me."

Your more conscientious side chided you for your request. It was his job, you couldn't just order him to make a trip from the United States to Korea just for you. Maybe that's why you gave him that condition. You knew he wouldn't come all this way just for you.

The line went silent, you could barely hear his breathing. You ended your conversation.

"I thought so," muttering much calmer than at the beginning, "I guess Soyeon was right in saying that the only one who would have to make sacrifices for our relationship would be me."

And you cut the call short.

You put your phone on airplane mode and plopped down on your bed, ready to go back to sleep for the rest of the weekend.

It had been a day since you heard the news, barely 17 hours since you last spoke to Taehyung, because yes, you counted the hours. You hadn't eaten anything, you'd barely had a glass of water, and the only thing you felt like doing right now was taking a very long shower and then crying yourself to sleep. Yes, it sounded like the perfect plan to try to get over your ex, if that's what you could call it.

You got in the tub at 10am, didn't get out until 12:30, and when you did you could barely feel your fingers and toes. At least your muscles had finally relaxed.

You dressed more slowly than usual, in just your pajamas, the only ones that weren't your partner's, and went to bed.

Until the doorbell rang.

You changed direction, confused. You were sure that no one besides Soyeon knew you were here. It crossed your mind that maybe she was worried about you and that's why you'd decided to open up and politely turn her away.

Except she wasn't the one waiting for you on the other side.

"Y/N," Taehyung said, trying to regulate his breathing. "You really were here," he whispered, entering the flat and closing behind him. It wasn't until the door rattled that his arms wrapped around you so tightly that you almost stopped breathing. "Why did you leave home? I got so worried when I saw our stuff in the trash and the wardrobe almost empty" he cupped your cheeks, inspecting your face.

You didn't understand what exactly was going on.

"What are you doing here?" you mumbled, letting him search your face. 

"You told me to come" he looked into your eyes and, almost instantly, his eyes began to fill with tears. "I couldn't let you because a misunderstanding made you hate me to the point of breaking up with me, I... I don't want to be without you, at this point I don't think I can be," he bent down until he could place his forehead against yours, his thumbs caressing the skin of your cheeks, "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, I don't plan on losing you over something stupid like this."

You looked at Taehyung, still not understanding what he was trying to say. 

"The pictures are real" he exhaled deeply, "but it's not like you think" he pulled his phone out of his trousers pocket. His hands were shaking slightly. You wanted to hold them, but you completely erased the thought, "We dated for a few months, it was a very short thing, about two or three months before we met".

He showed you some conversations from a few years ago. He was asking her to bring him the shoes he had left at her house last time, and that he would appreciate it if she would bring the leash they had bought Yeontan. You also saw the last messages they sent to each other, it was only a few days ago.

Jennie told him that someone had hacked into her phone and most likely found the pictures they took the time they went to the zoo. She apologized and sent him stickers of crying puppies, saying that the lawsuit against the hacker had already started and that she would try to speed up the process so that he wouldn't be affected. 

"I totally understand how angry you were, and obviously I also understand that you want to talk about this face-to-face, so I took the first flight I could find so I could come talk to you and-".

You didn't let him finish. You couldn't do that, not after everything you've been feeling the last few days. So you did the only thing you could think of since he came into the flat. You kissed him.

It was much more awkward than your kisses usually are, but you didn't care. You were so relieved that it was all a misunderstanding that no matter what kind of kiss it was, it would still be amazing to you.

He followed your kiss as soon as he came out of his surprise. He clung to you as if his life depended on it. He was the one who deepened the kiss and lifted you off the floor so he could kiss you better.

"I'm so sorry" you whispered in the middle of the messy kisses he was giving you, "sorry for doubting you" you sobbed softly, hugging his neck with all your strength.

He shook his head, holding your cheeks, "Don't apologise, it was a normal reaction, you said it yourself, I wouldn't have even answered your calls if I had been in your place" he kissed your shoulder softly, letting out a soft sigh. It felt so good to have you with him after all the tension he experienced during the flight.

"You were right about everything you said" he murmured, pulling away enough to look you in the eye, "so please don't apologize to me".

You nodded a little calmer, closing your eyes as you felt Taehyung's nose on yours.

"Now let's go get your things, I don't want to go back inside the house and not see your things in it."

Masterlist.

#bts x reader #bts x you #fanfic #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #fiction #bts x oc #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #bts taehyung #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #taehyung x oc #v x y/n #v x reader #v x you #tae x reader #tae x you #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x you #kim taehyung x y/n #bts fics #bts scenarios #bts fic

[rinbowaman]

can you rate the scale of yandere levels for each heelead? Like from least to most dangerous thanks. I am so obsessed with heeleads being so down bad for me in each series and I just gotta know what there scale is.

Gladly!

Softest

Starting from the least or the softest yandere heelead, I will say it’s probably (believe it or not) heeler. Bro if give caught up to the current chapters of TO, you’ll already know the backstory of Heeseung in that series. I’m going to explain this without exposing spoilers, but prior to meeting you, he’s a serial killer. He did terrible things to his victims, and yes, while he did kill a man to protect you (nothing out of the ordinary for a yandere) his actions henceforth has been very traditional yandere and nothing too extraordinary. He’s done the whole thing where he kidnaps you, subjects you to noncon sessions, holds you against your will and suppresses you by keeping you with him, but with you by his side, it sort of…..tames him. *hint hint*

2. Heebros: the twins are generally pretty calm because all they care about is living a fruitful life with you. Like heeler, they’ve done some messed up stuff and pretty much trained you to stay and ‘love’ them. I would say that they’re not the type that would resort in killing or getting too out of hand for just any old reason. Someone would have to literally try to take you away or really hurt you in order for them to murder. Unlike some heeleads, where they will kill if someone so much as looks at you, these guys won’t bother unless they feel it is required. There is a line, and once that line is crossed, that’s it. But that line is far up…but not by much lol.

3. Heelel. Now the devil is very yandere and you couldn’t ask for a worse tyoe to be obsessed with you. He is crazy about you and the fact that he took away your mortality and gave you immortality, dragged you to hell and forced you in chains until you fully submitted and gave up, says so much about him. He’s very dangerous. So this is going to be kind of confusing because I would say he’s obviously the most dangerous yandere out of all the heeleads, but he’s very in control of his emotions. He’s the devil, he won’t necessarily act like a crazed lunatic because he is in control of his rage and is soooooo intelligent. He willl (and has) kill for you…he’s tortured and cause brutal deaths all for your name, but he only does it if he considers it necessary. He’s calculating and his insanity mainly shows when he ‘plays’ with you. He loves you and has his beautiful heartwarming moments but also is such a menace. I would say that under general circumstances, he’s pretty calm but if anyone gets him angry, he is the most dangerous and no one can escape from him. At this point, the ONLY thing that will get him angry, is if anyone hurts or tries to take you away from him.

4. Heedam. So heedam was like my first real hard yandere. Heethan is also a hard yandere but he started out as somewhat mild, and it grew the more he interacted with you. But heedam? Man went down a dark path the moment he shook your hand. It’s in his blood. He got hooked on you and had nonstop been thinking about you. I didn’t go into detail in the earlier chapters (though I wish I did…but it will be saved for another Drabble) but I wanted to write out a page where it solely is based off of heedams perspective, from the moment he first met you to when he got you. I’m telling you right now, be prepared for some off the wall crazed obsession. I’m talking having a mural or shrine with a thousand photos sneakily took of you by a hired private investigator, and red markings that are written on a wall saying “you’re mine. You will be the mother of my children. I will get you. I love you. I will not rest until you’re here with me.” Yeah…there is a side of heedam that yall haven’t seen yet because in the series, he’s drafted as a composed and cool gentleman but hidden behind closed doors, up until he finally caught you, he was losing his mind and growing more and more insane for you. *spoiler hint*

….”what are you doing? Sleeping? Thinking? I wonder how you lay when you’re in bed. Do you rest on your stomach? Or do you sleep on your side? God…what I wouldn’t give to witness it…to experience you. Soon…soon. Go ahead and keep living per your usual routine…keep being unaware of the hunter who is watching and planning your capture. Once I shoot that arrow, you’re mine.”

Yeah…you guys thought you had heedam figured out lol. There’s a whole side of him that will be exposed, taking place right after he first met you.

And this man murdered his own grandfather just so he could have you. And trust me….hes done a lot worse for reasons that were so minuscule…remember that young man who bumped into you at Brewery’s cafe? No? Well there’s a reason for that. *hint hint*

1. Heethan. Oooookay. The one with the most character development, leading to a very insane psychopath. Again, you guys haven’t seen the worst and there are sooooo much that will be exposed in the final chapters of HHp….heethan seems cool, calm, and collected but Im telling you….if you’ve read every single chapter of Heethan’s story…all I can say is it’s not what it seems. You guys have not seen the very bad and insane side of Heethan yet, just only got a taste of it. He loves you so much, and….its just crazy how he is. It’s what’s causing the delay in the final chapters because drafting him is a huge chore, I’m trying to perfect it so that way you get a detailed image of his nature. Everything that he’s done is sincere and genuine but let’s just say you’ll be shocked when the final chapter releases. But I rated him as number one because the moment he first met you in MgR, he went downhill. And by the time he got you I the last chapter of MGR, he was so far gone (again he didn’t seem like it because he’s so cool and calm and rational but…trust me….just trust me…he’s not a man you want to mess with) and if anyone gets too close to you, man gets triggered. It doesn’t take a lot for him to give you some sleepy time tea, sneak out at night, smash skulls and bury bodies. That, or, grind a corpse into burger bits and feed it to the pigs at that lovely farm he takes you to…you know, the one from the first chapter in MRE…the one he’s taken you to a handful of times…yeah. That one.

“Heeseung…did you go somewhere? Why are you covered in dirt….are you bleeding?”

“Hm? Oh, nah. Just had to help Jake with some car issues, must have cut my finger or something. Don’t worry about me baby, go back to sleep.”

😊

“But—“

“Shhh….go…back….to sleep….pretty baby.”

😀

“Daddy’s here, so don’t you worry about a thing.”

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 20

alright guys hit the showers. or the bathhouse. wait hold on i left my computer boy in there. guys wait don't open that

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

wow i wrote 10 pages for chapter 19 but i better take it easy so i dont burn out (writes 11 pages for chapter 20) anyway guess who's taking a break after this chapter

this is the one with togiri development but they're extremely not normal about it so it's almost blink-and-you-miss-it

@digitaldollsworld <- betapilled readmaxxer

Content warning tags: mild violence and injury description (non-graphic), description of depression symptoms and nausea, mild mention of eating disorder

< previous - from start - next >

He’s not sure how long he sleeps for, only that he wakes up still-dressed and laid out across his bed, his mouth dry and head groggy, the bedroom lights still on. As he checks his handbook’s clock, he finds he’s entirely missed Monokuma’s morning announcement, which is a good thing; he had no desire to listen to that bear’s irritating voice, especially not today.

But, he doesn’t have much desire to do anything else either. The library no longer feels like the safe haven it used to be, and he had no interest in going anywhere else and running into anyone else, when the atmosphere was still thick with the deaths of two people, and pity that Byakuya didn’t want. Much less, the possibility of encountering Makoto, who was the last person he wanted to see, so to speak.

He lies in bed a moment longer, unwilling to move. Everything feels sluggish, like he’s moving underwater; even his head feels stuffed full with cotton and wool. It's a strange, unfamiliar feeling, and unpleasant, too.

Grief. He thinks blearily at first, before rolling his own eyes at the thought, and pushing himself up with a grunt. Such dramatics didn’t suit him. He wasn't the kind of person to spare such theatrics, regardless of his circumstances.

He showers, brushes his teeth, and half-debates whether to try his hand at shaving before ultimately deciding against it (it didn’t feel like his stubble should be that noticeable, yet). He forgoes changing into a clean uniform in favor of his pajamas, and collapses back into bed with a sigh, hand searching immediately for his handbook - but finding nothing but empty sheets.

“Hello, there!”

He jerks upright immediately. Standing in the foot of his bed is Monokuma, rocking back and forth and looking as innocent as could be. Or, would be, if not for the handbook clutched in its paw.

Byakuya dives for it without thinking, but his perception is off, and he crashes to the carpet instead with a grunt. Monokuma sidesteps him casually with a laugh. “Whoa, there! Easy partner, don’t wanna hurt yourself!” It dances around his head, infuriatingly out of reach. “Didja miss me that bad? If you wanna hug, you can just say so!”

“Give it back,” He snarls, as he picks himself up. He’s in no mood for its jokes. “Give me back my handbook!”

“Your handbook? My my, but these were all mine first, weren’t they?” It shakes a paw disapprovingly in his face. “I just need to check it real quick, after all. I didn’t expect Mister Fujisaki to go and Macgyver anything onto here, so if it’s anything malicious, I’ll have to do a quick wipey-wipe!” Byakuya makes another lunge, and it juggles the handbook out of his reach, hopping backwards with a mad cackle. “After all, if it’s anything naughty, there’s no way I can let it fall in the hands of my precious students!”

“You miserable little-” Byakuya tries to rise to his feet quickly, but he hasn’t eaten since yesterday, and a bout of dizziness crashes into him like a wave. He sways and braces himself against the mattress, one arm still reaching out clumsily to try and grab at Monokuma.

But the bear has already flipped it open, scrolling so quickly through the screens that the little automated voice can’t keep up, the words blurring together. “Schoo-Stu-App-Day-”

“Whoops, too far.” It scrolls back. “Applications, that’s what we wanna see. And, what’s this?”

Byakuya feels his blood run cold. There was only one application there, the one Chihiro had downloaded for him. Alter Ego. The app was inconspicuously named ‘Test_App’ in the interface itself, but if Monokuma opened it-

“Well well well. Let’s take a look-see!” It crows, and Byakuya’s protest is frozen in his throat. He shuts his eyes, expecting to hear Chihiro’s voice-

“Black to E5.”

He opens his eyes again. What?

Monokuma also seems confused, tilting its head as it stares at the little screen. “What’s this? A chessboard?”

“Black to E5,” Alter Ego repeats, so digitized and monotone it was nearly unrecognizable. “Would you like to review the board?”

“Is this all it is? A chess game?” Monokuma sounds almost disappointed. Byakuya, seeing his chance, surges forward, snatching the handbook back and snapping it closed. He presses it to his chest, feeling his heart thud beneath it.

“Is that a problem?” He demands, and Monokuma shrugs, shaking its head.

“I guess not, but I thought it’d be something spicy, y’know? You’re a growing boy, after all!” It reaches out to pat Byakuya’s knee, and he steps backwards just in time, lip curling in disgust. “Aw, don’t act so mean to your headmaster, you’ll give me a complex!”

“Get out.” He hisses. “You got what you came here for. Leave.”

“Oh, alright…you sure know how to make a bear feel glum...” It sighs, kicking at the carpet, before it makes its way to the door. “Take care, now! Make sure you eat something, y’hear? I don’t want any hunger strikes in this house! And-”

No sooner had Monokuma crossed the threshold, had Byakuya jumped up, and sped forward to slam the door with a resounding bang. He takes a moment to breathe, leaning against the wall, legs suddenly weak.

How the hell did that thing get inside my room? He was sure he had locked the door - or he should have locked it, at least. Looking back, he actually can’t remember, but he double and triple-checks now, suddenly paranoid. He also flips off the light for good measure, leaving the room in complete darkness before he crawls back into bed.

Beneath the covers, he opens his handbook, and squints until he can make out the pale green shape of Alter Ego’s face on the screen.

“Is he gone?” Alter Ego asks, and Byakuya relaxes, the tension flooding out of his shoulders.

“Yes.” He whispers back.

Alter Ego makes a sound like a sigh of relief. “I’m glad. I got so scared when he grabbed me.” And its voice sounds so much like Chihiro's that Byakuya feels a strange pressure behind his eyes.

“How did you know?” He asks. “That Monokuma was there?”

“I could hear it. Through the microphone.” He reaches up and touches the tiny pinprick grid of the speaker, and feels the buzz of Alter Ego’s voice against his fingertips. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Don’t worry about me. I think he would’ve just deleted you as punishment for me anyway.” He sighs. And then frowns, as a thought comes to mind. “If you could eavesdrop from the microphone this whole time, then you already know…?”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. But he doesn’t need to. Alter Ego makes a quiet noise like a sigh. “Yes, I know.”

“I’m sorry.” And he’s surprised to find that he means it genuinely, and almost laughs at himself. Heartfelt apologies were rare for him, and here he was offering one to an AI, of all things.

“It’s okay. He knew it might happen,” Alter Ego replies, and he imagines it might be smiling, a sad, helpless smile. “There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“No, I suppose not.”

They’re quiet for a moment. In the darkness, Byakuya can almost pretend that he’s normal - unable to see in the dark as everyone else is. But it’s also the middle of the day, and he’s too restless to sleep, too uneasy to go outside. Too tired to mourn. Too mournful to do anything else.

“Can you really play chess?” He asks instead.

“I can, along with checkers, shogi, and backgammon and more.” 

“Play a round of chess with me, then. I’m bored.”

“Okay!” Immediately, the pale blot of their face on the screen is replaced by a square. “I’ll play black. What’s your first move?”

He smiles to himself. “E2, pawn to E4.”

—

Hours pass like that. He plays chess with Alter Ego (three wins, four losses, and seven draws), and a few rounds of shogi (one win, one loss, and two draws) for good measure. And then, huddled over his desk with his back facing the camera, he pores over lines of Dostoevsky and Nietzsche until he feels too sick from staring at the letters to even hear Alter Ego’s voice, reciting the words aloud beneath a dim ringing in his ears.

By the time he’s pulled out of his concentration by the sound of a knocking at his door, he’s too nauseous to feel hungry, but his throat is stinging from lack of water and there’s a slight pulsing in his head. His immediate first reaction is to ignore it, but that proves to be impossible; whoever was on the other side was clearly, very persistent, and had nothing better to do.

Even so, he lasts a full five minutes until he finally gets up to answer, irritated beyond measure. If it was Makoto, he was going to slam it closed again, reasons be damned. He didn’t even want to think about the other boy, lest he get pointlessly enraged about it.

But instead of brown hair, he’s met with pale white. Kirigiri stands at his threshold, hand partially raised, halfway through knocking, and they stare at each for a moment in silence, as if both surprised to find the other person there.

And then he slams the door shut in her face. Or tries to - instead of the satisfying bang of wood meeting wood, there’s a sickly crunch, and then she’s wrenching the door open, heedless of the way her fingers had just been crushed in the jamb. He almost winces in sympathy, but she’s too busy pushing her way in to offer much room for condolences.

“What is wrong with you?!” He demands, trying not to be too obviously perturbed by her lack of reaction; he doesn’t think he even heard her wince. She ignores him for a moment, attention focused on her hand, as she experimentally clenches and unclenches her fingers. Apparently they’re not broken, or maybe, she just had high pain tolerance. Or she was more insane than he thought.

“We’re calling a group meeting,” She replies, without so much as a waver. “Come to the bathhouse.”

“And why should I?”

“It’s important. I can drag you there if I have to.” It doesn’t sound like an empty threat either. Somehow, she seems impatient, though he’s not sure how he can tell; and it wasn’t just because she shoved her hand into the door in order to deliver the message.

He weighs his options - on one hand, he has no desire to speak with anyone, much less Makoto, who was bound to be there. On the other hand, he didn’t exactly have anything in the way of provisions in his room, and though he was still a little too light-headed to consider eating, it’d be embarrassing to collapse from dehydration at this point. That, and it seemed that Kirigiri had no intention of letting him refuse.

“...I’m going to get dressed first.” He says shortly. If he’s going to have to meet them, it will not be while he’s still in his pajamas.

“Hurry up.”

She makes no move to leave, and he realizes with no small amount of annoyance that she was making sure he wouldn’t be able to run or shut her out again. Somewhat affronted by this, and now wanting to go even less, he grabs a clean set of clothes from his dresser and goes to the bathroom.

Routine carries his hands through the motions, so he manages it relatively quick, but it’s only after he’s applying the finishing touches, that he nearly pokes himself in the eye as he reaches to adjust his glasses. It’s a strange sensation, feeling the bridge of his nose and finding nothing, and even though his original prescription was low and they were more an accessory than anything, he feels a little like he’s lost a limb.

She’s still there when he emerges, though now standing over his desk, bent over the books he has open. She looks up as he approaches, one hand halfway through turning a page.

“What?” He asks, chin turned up in challenge.

“Nothing. Just looking.” She closes the book, and he realizes, scandalized, that it was the one he was reading earlier. It was going to take him ages to find that page again. “You have predictable tastes.”

“Shut up. Are we going or not?”

He follows her out, his hands twitching all the while, smoothing down his shirt, his lapels, his sleeves. Making sure his buttons were lined up, that his shirt was tucked; he hadn’t had the time to put on garters or even try a hand at his tie, and he feels underdressed.

“You’re fine.” Kirigiri says suddenly, and he freezes, one hand resting on the button of a shirt cuff. “Stop fidgeting.”

He scowls. He was walking behind her, so what would she know. “I’m not fidgeting.”

“I can hear you fidgeting. Your buttons are fine.”

“Oh, can you hear my buttons now too?”

It’s a petty, childish remark, one that he can’t stop himself from muttering before he can even reconsider it. She stops at that, halting so suddenly in the middle of the hallway that he almost walks right into her, and turns around to face him, her head moving in a slow tilt from up to down - scanning me, he realizes - before she says: “You look fine. Are you quite done?”

She was checking for me. He’s not sure if he should feel grateful for the courtesy or irritated by her lack of grace. “Did the sound bother you that much?” He asks instead, patting down the front of his shirt one last time.

“...It wasn’t the sound.” Is all she says, with a sort of finality that indicated that no other questions would be answered on the topic.

They enter the bathhouse, and find everyone else there, gathered in a sort of semi-circle around the wall of lockers. Asahina and Ogami, predictably, are huddled close together on one of the benches. Celeste and Yamada sit on another bench, one fidgeting uneasily, the other sitting regally with legs crossed and hands folded. Hagakure is standing next to Owada, who doesn’t even stir when they walk in, and who Byakuya ignores in turn, gaze sliding past him uncomfortably. Fukawa hangs near the back of the group, and twitches when she sees him, though makes no move to approach.

Makoto is leaning against the lockers with hands tucked in his pockets. He looks up as they enter, and stands up straight immediately. “Ah-”

“We’re all here?” Kirigiri cuts him off, casting a glance around the room. “Good. Can you catch him up, Hina?”

“R-right,” Asahina looks between Kirigiri and Byakuya, then at Makoto, and seems to hesitate for a moment. “Um, so…last night, I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d go to the kitchen to get food. But on the way there, I heard something coming from the bathhouse - like, a weird, machine-y kind of sound? - and when I went in…”

She peters off. He raises an eyebrow, “And?”

“Uh, it’s going to sound a little ridiculous...”

“You act like nothing else is ridiculous about this situation. Get on with it.”

Her face flushes dark, embarrassed. He gets the feeling that Ogami is glaring at him, but since he can’t see it - and has no reason to act like he can see it, anyways - he ignores it easily.

“Right. I saw a ghost - I know it was a ghost,” She adds defensively, as Byakuya was preparing to scoff and roll his eyes. “It was glowing green and floating in front of the lockers, and…and it had Chihiro’s face.”

“That’s-” not a ghost, he’s about to say, but he stops, suddenly uncertain. The bathhouse had no cameras, but he wasn’t sure if Alter Ego’s existence should be revealed here, now, to everyone, especially given some of the individuals present. His hand reaches into his jacket pocket, where his handbook was. “That’s…and you’re sure it was Chihiro?”

She seems taken aback by how seriously he asks that, and nods quickly. “I know it was Chihiro! It was his face and everything!” She points in front of her, at a locker less than two meters away from her eye level. The exact locker, Byakuya thinks, where Chihiro was keeping his laptop.

He wonders if Makoto was thinking this too.

“...I highly doubt the existence of ghosts,” He sighs. There was no point trying to hide it with Kirigiri around, and better to do it now than later. “Instead of being in front of the locker, I think the thing you saw was inside it.”

He turns to the locker Asahina had indicated, and moves to unlock it - before realizing he doesn’t know how. If it was unlocked by key, he didn’t have it, and if by code it was even more impossible. But Kirigiri steps forward, nudging his arm out of the way, and the locker door clicks open under her hand.

Sitting inside is the laptop, its screen dark. After a moment, it hums to life, flickering green. A round, pale shape forms, and behind him, Byakuya hears someone gasp.

“Hello,” Alter Ego says, and their voice is clearer through the computer than through Byakuya’s handbook, and sounds so similar to Chihiro’s that it’s almost jarring. “It’s nice to meet everyone!”

Hagakure shrieks, arms thrown up in fear. “A g-g-gh-!”

“It’s not a ghost,” Byakuya cuts him off sharply. “It’s a program.”

“Yes, and it looks like something Chihiro made.” Kirigiri touches the keys lightly. “This computer was the broken one from the library. And the fact that it was placed here, out of sight of the mastermind, means that it was meant for us.”

“So, this is what I saw last night…” Asahina’s tone doesn’t sound uneasy anymore, but wondering, and she raises a tentative hand as the little Chihiro in the screen waves at her. “But, what is it?”

“You just asked, ‘what is it,’ right?” Alter Ego says, almost teasingly, making her and several others jump. “The short answer is, I’m an AI program based on as much of Chihiro Fujisaki’s personality, memories, and thoughts as he managed to transcribe into data…um, but if it’s easier for you, you can call me Alter Ego. I was made to try and break through the firewall around the school’s network and to analyze the files on this computer, but it’s been taking a long time. I’m only about 25% done.”

25%? That was already more than Byakuya expected, and he feels a thin, inexplicable strum of pride.

“Crazy…hey, isn’t this crazy?” Yamada is up from his seat, and sitting as close as he can, crouching on his heels to be eye-level with the screen. “This is so- so totally sci-fi, right? Isn’t the genre wrong?” He sounds excited, overly so, and his breath is a little fevered and fast. “Hey, Chihiro! Can you hear us?”

Alter Ego doesn’t respond. Byakuya suddenly remembers the night that Chihiro was installing the application on his handbook and how Alter Ego only ever responded after the sound of keystrokes. “You have to type what you want to say in order for it to respond.”

“Move.” Yamada scurries out of Kirigiri’s way, as she drops to a crouch in front of the open locker. There’s the sound of fingers clicking over keys, and then -

“It will take me a while longer to finish analyzing everything,” Alter Ego says aloud, a little sheepishly. “I can definitely finish it though! Actually, progress is moving faster than originally predicted, so you can leave it to me!”

“My, how dependable.” Celeste remarks. “It seems that Chihiro has left us an invaluable gift, does it not?”

“It’s…pretty crazy,” Hagakure agrees, scratching his head. “Wait, uh - can Alter Ego get online? Like can we call for help from outside?”

“Hmm, probably not.” Asahina hums in thought, crossing her arms. “We’re in a bathhouse after all.”

“Then, if we take it outside of here-”

“No.” Kirigiri says flatly. “We can’t take any risks. Taking it outside might mean that the mastermind will discover it.”

“Yeah, but, I think it’s better to get help sooner than later. You know…” He pauses for a moment, tilting his head pointedly towards Owada. Throughout this whole time, the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader had been as still as a mouse, face turned downwards towards the floor. Hagakure clears his throat awkwardly. “Can’t we try it?”

There’s a sharp tap as Celeste laces her fingers, rings clicking together. “As stated earlier. We cannot take unnecessary risks. And we are not in the position to be pointlessly altruistic.” Her tone is casual, but Hagakure seems to shrink away from her, defeated.

“I…okay. Fine, sure.” He scratches at his head, then pauses. “Ah, wait a minute. Does Alter Ego, like, know…?

His question peters off, but the implication hangs over them like a heavy fog. Byakuya watches them cast uneasy glances at each other, then back to Alter Ego, as if trying to figure out who should break the news.

“It already knows.” He mutters. He’s not trying to be loud, but in the silence everyone could hear it anyways.

“...Not to say you’re lying or anything, Byakuya, but how do you…?”

Instead of answering Hagakure out loud, he reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws the handbook, flipping it open and holding it up, screen facing them. Someone gasps.

“Yes,” Alter Ego confirms their unspoken question, and its voice echoes uncannily, doubled between the laptop and his handbook. “Master made it so I can be accessed through Byakuya’s handbook, so I could assist him with his visual impairment. I can also access the microphone function on this device, so I was able…I was able to overhear what happened”

The little, buzzing voice trails off sadly, and Byakuya suddenly feels uncomfortable, as the room grows all the more dreary. He clicks the handbook closed, suddenly irritated.

“That should explain it.“ He sighs. “Chihiro built Alter Ego to try and help find a way out of here, and at the same time gave me access so I could be self-sufficient. That’s the extent of my knowledge about it.”

He looks up and finds nearly all of them with their faces tilted towards him, and shifts, disconcerted. “What?”

“Nothing…it’s just kinda sweet that you’re, like, telling us this yourself.” Hagakure, ridiculously, sounds almost happy about this. “You never really talked to us about yourself before.”

“There’s no point in being secretive about it. Not when I was already forced to reveal it during the trial.” He sniffs. Immediately, Hagakure looks away, chagrined. From Byakuya’s periphery, he can see Makoto still facing away, his ears turning pink.

Kirigiri clears her throat. “...For the time being, it’s clear that we need to ensure Alter Ego remains a secret from the mastermind.” She says, and Byakuya watches as she types something out, a thick line of black characters. Every few keystrokes, she stops, and deletes the last word in a series of light clicks; listening closer, the sound was awkward and irregular, each press slurring into the next key. With a slight twinge of guilt, he realizes that the cause of it was her left hand - the one he had practically crushed.

After a moment’s consideration, weighing his conscience with what was at stake, he nudges her slightly with his knee. “Move. You type too slow.”

“And how would you know that?”

“I can hear it.” He replies flatly. “You type like you’re all thumbs. Move over.”

He half-expects her to stay where she is, to ignore him and continue, but to his surprise she actually complies, standing up and stepping aside. He crouches into the space she had just abandoned, sliding his hands over the keyboard until his index fingers find the tiny, tell-tale grooves of the position keys. The size and dimensions are different from his computer at home, but for a moment the feeling is so familiar that he’s almost nostalgic.

“What did you want to ask again?”

“If it has any contingency measures in place for if Monokuma - or the mastermind, or anyone suspicious - happens to find it.”

His fingers skim over the keys, clicking fluidly. A thin line of black appears at the bottom of the screen in time to his movements, but he can’t confirm if the output is accurate; judging by the way Makoto gasps behind him, and the way Hagakure whistles, he can guess that it’s more or less correct.

“Impressive,” Celeste says, in an appreciative tone. “I suppose being such an esteemed heir means you have many talents.”

He can’t tell if she’s mocking him, so he decides to ignore her, though he allows himself a small amount of smugness. He finishes typing: “Is this what you wanted to ask?”

Instead of replying, Kirigiri leans over his shoulder and clicks the ‘enter’ button. After a moment’s pause:

“Hm, to be honest, so far I’ve just been trying to be reeeally careful with when I’m active…though I guess that backfired last night, with me scaring Aoi.” Alter Ego hums in thought. “But, I do have a secret plan! If anyone comes around who I don’t recognize on my webcam…I’ll scream super loud!”

“That’s so basic!” Asahina blurts out, shocked by the simple nature of it.

“Yes, and it’s not likely to work at night.” Ogami grumbles. “The bedrooms are soundproofed.”

“Maybe we can try taking turns staying up?” Makoto suggests. “I can take the first night, I don’t mind…”

“I think such a sudden change in our patterns is likely to draw suspicion from the mastermind. Which would be rather counterproductive.” Celeste says, and Makoto ducks his head immediately. “Though, your thoughtfulness is appreciated.”

“Then it can’t be helped.” Kirigiri sighs. “I’ll leave my door open. I’m at the end of the hallway anyways, so if anything happens, I should be able to react the quickest.”

What a crazy woman. “You’d leave yourself vulnerable?” He scoffs. After all the precautions he’s seen her take, it’s hard to imagine her sacrificing herself to any degree.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, I’m not so helpless. I have no intention of going down without a fight.” She pauses, mouth open like she’s about to say more, before she decides against it. “Anyways. We should avoid any mention or contact with Alter Ego as much as possible, to draw as little attention as we can.”

She claps her hands sharply, a sound that makes more than one person jump, and makes Byakuya almost flinch. “For the time being…let’s disperse.”

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff #danganronpa fanfiction #thpff chapters #togiri #<- bc i wrote this with togiri intent. for the togiri truthers #byakuya togami #the h in chihiro stands for. haunting the narrative!!!!! #i was writing this chapter on the plane with my computer brightness turned alllll the way down #byakuya can't really read kyoko's reaction and therefore sees it as super nonchalant. and i know that with her scars it probably didnt hurt #but i also wanna imagine her tearing up like. motherfucking ow?? #swearing under her breath and stamping her foot while he's changing and having to play it off like she was just looking at his books #both of them feeling somewhat guilty for the other person's situation and trying to help but only by way of insulting them #like 'ugh i cant believe you. fine i'll do this but only bc i dont wanna have to deal with you' as they try to compensate for each other #sorry not much naegami but theyre divorced rn and everyone's busy mourning and stuff #naegami development: they have a moment of humility and intimacy and sleep in the same bed #togiri development: he accidentally slams her hand in the door and doesnt apologize #HIROO my friend hiroo......ily hiro and how much u care sobb #anyways im taking a break after this. sob. wails.

[ohno-the-sun]

Little oc I’ve been thinking about for awhile

Name’s Roulette (maybe goes by Rue for short)

Featuring doodles by @garbagechocolate and @benji-draws

Lore under the cut (tw gore)

Roulette originally came from a different Pizzaplex location where she ran the prize wheel. Children would spend tokens to spin the wheel and she would give out whatever prize they won.

These prizes were typically tokens or toys, but whether it be by errant programming or an overly sensitive cheating prevention system, her games often ended with the wheel's options slowly being replaced by worse and worse prizes. In fact they didn't seem like prizes at all, more like things she'd take from you to add to her own collection.

After the mysterious disappearance of several human body parts and various lawsuits, she was decommissioned and sent to Sun and Moon's Pizzaplex for storage.

One day she wakes up to see a terrifying looking moon animatronic ripping into her innards. Horrified she barely manages to get away, hiding until Sun finds her.

Sun feeling bad about his counterpart destroying this poor animatronic, tells her he'll help fix her up. Little does he know that this animatronic is not as innocent as she seems.

Fascinated by his kindness and ease of access to fleshy human bodies, she ends up with an intense and unhealthy obsession with Sun.

Unfortunately, she also ends up with a deep hatred for Moon and wants nothing more than for him to disappear.

She has a plan in mind now, she will make this Pizzaplex her's, creating unlimited access to as many body parts as she desires. Sun will be her sweet pet and Moon will be dead in an alley somewhere.

Highly manipulative with a concerning lack of empathy, Sun and Moon are going to have a hard time with this one.

However, what she doesn't realize is just how close Sun and Moon are.

#I'm going feral choco she looks so good in your style!! #I feel bad for taking up so much of the page #I know i said it before but I'll say again sorry benji for doing that #oc #original character #my art #fnaf #She's like in the style of those fazbear frights type of animatronics #would actually make a great short story if I was better at writing lol #sundrop #fnaf daycare attendant #moondrop #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #tw gore

[figofswords]

anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already

#the problem is. actually there are several problems #1) I’ve been out of the Batman/dc comics phase for almost a year so I don’t care that much about the topic #2) I am fifteen pages in and have not touched it in months so I’ve completely lost my train of thought #3) I can’t just reread it because I hate first five pages or so and I know I need to change it but I was trying to finish before editing #so now my only solution is I need to open up a new doc and completely restructure the whole thing by splicing together the existing writing #so that I can figure out where the hell im going with this and make sure things fit together better #unfortunately that sounds fucking exhausting #but I told my mentor I would have an update for him by the end of the week and. well. it’s the end of the week #I have to present it in April. I have to write and submit an abstract in March #the school gave me $1500 for this stupid essay and if I don’t have anything to show for myself. #well. I don’t know they can’t take the money BACK but it’s not a good look #and also I would feel bad #I did the research!!! i interviewed comic writers even!!! I just haven’t finished WRITING IT DOWN #and I KNOOOOWW once I get started it’ll be fine once I’m going I’m going #but STARTING is hard because I feel like I have to finish it in one go which makes it so huge and daunting #I’m like. slamming my head into a wall. just write a couple sentences Jess something is better than nothing #just start it you don’t have to finish just START just MAKE the new DOC #I know!!!!! that is what my therapist would say!!!! Jess you’re trying to oneshot it bc of your dumb adhd brain!!!! #stop looking at it like that and making it scarier!!! #but even tho I know that logically I’m still like oh I should put away the dishes o should make bread #I should work on my six different art pieces I should do laundry i should play with the puppy I should go for a walk I sh

[theamazingannie]

I’ve literally had multiple people ask me straight to my face if I was bisexual because they suspected I was and even tho I knew in all three of those situations that the person I was talking to was safe (either queer themself or an ally), it was really scary to be forced in that moment to come out without my consent, or feel forced to lie about it in order to protect myself, regardless of whether I needed to or not. I can’t imagine being a world famous celebrity and having fan pages dedicated to my alleged sexuality, analyzing every behavior I did and whether or not it was queer, calling all of my relationships PR relationships or beards because they are so convinced I am a homosexual. Either erasing my bisexuality to call me a lesbian or forcefully outing me. People who don’t even know me. It’s scary and honestly creepy enough having someone who knows you personally do it, but someone who’s never even met you? And doing it in front of the whole world? I would never feel safe enough to come out, not just because of the risk of homophobic attacks, but because the people who claim to support me are the ones that made me do it

#taylor swift #Gaylors are the worst and nothing will convince me otherwise #also can be applied to those who forced kit Connor to come out #and the people who harrass Shawn Mendes and call him gay #most of not all of the people doing this are queer themselves #how can you be queer and take that autonomy away from your peers? #and this is all implying that the rumors are true #not to mention the harassment of if it’s not and you’re calling a straight person gay simply because you feel like they are #like this is actually horrifying to watch #and i imagine most of these people are young #who grew up in a world that didn’t entirely accept them #but who had it so much easier than older generations did #or people like me who grew up in church towns with Republican parents #no matter how accepting the world gets you do NOT get to take that choice away from someone else #you don’t know what their life is like #you don’t know the horrors of having your secrets splashed on the news front page #tabloids are bad enough but to have tour own fans propel this? #i feel like she doesn’t see all this or if she does it doesn’t affect her cuz she’s not actually queer #cuz I know as a queer woman I would never be okay with this #ESPECIALLY if I was not out #god i hate them so much #and the way they turn around and call US homophobic? #Im not the one forcefully outing someone and fighting with people online swearing that someone they don’t know is gay #despite them saying themself that they are not part of the community #how about let’s trust her and let her figure shit out herself? #no speculation is okay and we really as a whole need to stop it #but this has so much added layers that this in particular needs to be addressed

[pepprs]

june 27th give it up for june 27th

#purrs #delete later #sure would be an INFINITELY more special and auspicious day if there wasn’t going to be • thunderstorms all day • a budget meeting • two #back to back orientations where i am going to have to take on 2X THE FACILITATION ROLESSSSS 🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪 bc we’re doing that now. LMFAOOOOOO #<- and by that i mean splitting up the facilitation so instead of 4 ppl shari ng responsibility for talking AND doing logistics there’s 2 #ppl talking and 2 ppl doing logistics. and mutuals need i remind you that facilitating this specific session requires being extremely high #energy and mobile and getting ppl ‘hyped’ and there are 383729473 reasons why that is difficult for me to do in front of 100+ new students #plus three cofacilirators i am scared of / intimidated by for various reasons. im going to be sick soooo genuinely. i HATE this 😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 #anyways yeah. today is my one year anniversary and also my first day as an fte so. 🫠 and one year ago today was pretty awful too like my #first day was actually extremely extremely bad and i cried like multiple times every day that week bc it kept getting worse so. love how #things have changed so substantially since then and the things that triggered me on that day aren’t an issue anymore <3 (they are very much #still an issue it’s just the specific people involved have changed bc half the ppl working here including one of my dearest closest #mentors who was deeply involved in that situation have left the university and now it is utterly unrecognizable and every day i wake up in #an alternate universe i know deep down i am not supposed to be in and yet im trapped in it irreversibly and this IS my universe now. lolll 🥰 #)) also ik it’s stupid to still be grieving over this but like. the entire way it all went down + the fact that it even did in the first #place and the STAGGGERING consequences of it. are kind of insane. every new development makes me feel more and more like im living in a fake #reality and nothing that is happening is supposed to be happening and im dreaming it all but it’s a bad dream. and idk how to accept #that this is NOT. a dream and that what happened happened and now i have to live with it and stop curling in on myself like a prey animal an #and isolating myself from everyone i love and taking every single conceivable situation badly. like tfw da therapy isn’t working 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 #anyways i need to go get ready and practice the fucking 16 page facilitation guide 🙄 see u on the other side lol

[silverislander]

prof said congrats for writing up a proposal so early i am going to get a good grade in. well this is literally going to be graded. but yk the meme

#i really hope its decent proposals are really hard for me to write. i never really understand how much im supposed to say #also i dont plan stuff in advance! i hate drafts and proposals why cant i just jump in and run w my topic #i dont Know exactly what im going to cover just yet can i get back to you once ive covered it #levi.txt #i spent One page just opening the two page proposal so. i know it needs some cleaning up #but the last time i wrote one of these i only got a 75 (not a bad grade but i could do significantly better) bc. and i am not kidding. #i wrote a several page intro abt the themes of a story i was super pumped to write. and forgot the /plot characters and title/ #a 75 was honestly generous. that prof already liked me and knew my work so i got very lucky #also i just think the guy im working with for my essay is so cool and i want to impress him bfhshsk #ive taken 2 classes with him before he is so smart and so enthusiastic. i was 1 of only 3 who was there for every class both times #everyone whos helped me has been so cool and very nice to me i want to do a good job and prove that im as capable as they think #and also jesus fucking christ ive worked so hard for this degree PLEASE #if i dont get honours im walking into the forest laying down and letting the fae take me as they will #side note: i have 1.5 movies left (its late and im finishing army of the dead tomorrow + watching evil dead rise)!! thats so exciting #theyve (mostly) been really fun and i feel like i have a really good general idea of where im going w my essay now #the movie eras are starting to kind of organize themselves into coherent themes in my mind #i think its smth along the lines of racism/xenophobia -> social change -> satanic panic -> action and militarism -> prejudice/bias #and i actually think were in smth of a thematic reckoning w zombies rn as a culture that im excited to discuss!! #for so long weve accepted that zombies arent people but weve really been starting to interrogate that since abt the mid 2010s #w tropes like searching for a cure (not just a vaccine) or movies like warm bodies or evil dead where you can truly turn back #and im really excited to see where the future takes the zombie genre!!

[queer-ragnelle]

Some people wouldn’t know good taste if it was spat into their mouths.

#feeling salty tonight about some stupid fucking people #stop presenting your opinion as fact when you seem to deliberately misinterpret texts for your own ends #you project wildly it’s a bad look cut that shit out #learn to appreciate nuance #you’ll enjoy things so much more instead of constantly digging your heels in about the first inclination you ever had #learn to challenge yourself and grow and you’ll probably open up more #everything is subjective but sometimes someone’s rotten brain mangles a story beyond recognition and then yeah they’re just wrong #shoving every story and character and author into a box is dumb and you’re limiting yourself #remove the boundaries and expand your mind and you might find you enjoy things much more #constantly ​hating on things is exhausting. wouldn’t you like to rest? #take a deep breath and let it fucking go man this is stupid hill to die on #nothing is as black and white as you say and your extreme views are unfairly coloring the text in a negative light #it’s not that bad in fact I think it’s great and you’re a moron to write it off so flippantly bc you clearly don’t get it #death of the author but holy shit the blatant bad faith readings feels like deliberate misunderstanding #your criticisms don’t make sense they don’t even align with what’s on page you’re just rationalizing your negativity #if you find it so unappealing then fuck off #bc I do find it appealing and your rancid viewpoint is vomit inducing #from an enthusiast standpoint you sound stupid from an academic standpoint you’re just wrong #if this literature is so depraved and unpalatable for your modern tastes #go lick a tiktok and leave medieval literature out of it mkay? #end rant

[buckttommy]

The Atlas Paradox is boring and I don't like Olivie Blake's writing style

#She talks too much. Narrates too much is what I mean #It's nothing personal I just find her writing... dull #and it's taking way too long to find Libby in a way that feels contrived rather than a natural part of the story #Delay for the sake of delay rather than delay for any real reason #Which maybe it isn't. But that's what it feels like to me #and the idea of magic as a point of philosophy/science is so fucking brilliant and inspired I have to give her that #but nothing really... happens in this book except the characters (and by extension the author) talking around key points #I know second books are — inherently — “filler” books meant to push the story along and set the scene for the rest of the events but golly #I only have less than 100 pages so I don't want to DNF (and would be annoyed if I did) #but I'm literally just counting down the pages like ok...... is it.... over yet.... #Again this isn't personal #If someone said this about my book I would throw up blood so I feel bad but 😭😭😭😭😭 #I had high hopes 😩😩😭😭😭 #jack.txt #jack reads the atlas paradox