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#exist outside of this house yknow

the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

Note

AAAAA

TDAC X PUPPET!READER

Hear me out

Reader is like puppet from fnaf, their character being very similar to puppet, them having the same voice and powers? Yknow Puppet flies fast as HELL and etc, Reader most of the time stays in the music box, and just gets out when really wanted or needed, for example: when theres an IHA or when someone needs them for something.

TADC x puppet!reader !

ashamed to admit this but i have not touched fnaf outside of security breach, recently at least. the last time i was fully invested in the fnaf lore was when fnaf 4 had just dropped, so im quite literally relying off of your description like its a life line because i know how insane fnaf lore has gotten think imma answer this request then take another short break since my lower back is starting to get sore from sitting all day; gotta go stretch my legs too

CAINE:

you do have your own room, of course, but you tend to usually stay in your music box; of which you came with when you first entered the digital world... which was a little odd, but hey its not the strangest thing that anyone here has seen! i like to think that sometimes caine comes to your box at night and tries to will you out so he can get to know you more. leave it to the ai to fall for the mysterious circus member who rarely leaves their box... i think sometimes he would hum and sing along to the music your box makes

POMNI:

the first time you rush out of your music box it takes her off guard, almost making her fall off her feet when you dash right by her to do... whatever was required of you at that moment in time. if she were being honest, she didnt think you were a real person, she had always assumed that you were an npc; it wasnt unheard of that caine would have npcs stationed about for in house adventures, or to man the carnival..! though i dont think she would interact much with you, considering you rarely interact with the others; what use would it be to pester you?

JAX:

honestly before realizing you literally live and sleep and mostly exist in the music box, he probably puts stuff on top of your box... accidentally trapping you inside it. well, actually trapping wouldnt be accurate because you ended up brute forcing your way out, literally sending everything that was on top of the box flying; scaring just about everyone in the room. imagine trying to find out whos faster; you or jax.. i mean, have you seen how fast jax bolted when they found out koufmo abstracted?

RAGATHA:

always tries to ask you if you want to join in on the in house adventure, she doesnt want you to feel left out or unwelcome; even though most times you willingly back out of the activity. though, she feels relieved and even smiles when you spring out of your box to join in on the action... at least she knows you havent abstracted... brain stimulation is important, you know!

KINGER:

he finds some comfort in the music, slowly but surely as the days pass he moves his pillow fort closer and closer to your box before eventually hes right next to you. sometimes even naps, leaning against it. though he does immediately scamper off when you suddenly lunge out to race towards whoever is calling for you. at least he can count on you to have his back in moments of danger or fear!

ZOOBLE:

usually stays in their own lane, but for one reason or another they need help during an IHA, and their yelps and incoherent speech was enough to catch your attention. be it gloink or otherwise, you obliterate the problem; effectively haunting zooble for the rest of their life by your actions... but hey, it feels... nice, having someone you can rely on

GANGLE:

character who is soft spoken and shy meets character that rarely leaves their box when its not needed or necessary; how could a relationship, romantic or otherwise, be fostered in conditions such as this? oddly enough, the silence between you two brings you together, the music keeping the silence from becoming overwhelming. i like to think that sometimes gangle leaves you little notes, choosing to write rather than verbally speak... best not to ruin that special quiet the two of you have learned to share

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #jax x reader #ragatha x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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kryptonitejelly · 2 years

Text

Flyboy (Part 4) | Jake Seresin x Reader Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: tw: sex (penetrative, fingering, oral sex); general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies; football inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: They are a bit angsty here, but I swear guys it’s all the tension that’s been building, can you blame them? We are more than half way through, just two more parts and the epilogue. I have the exact end of Part 6 written out already 🫣 just not yknow 5, the rest of 6 and the epilogue.

Again thank you for the love - all your reblog, tags, comments and likes are much appreciated <3 i love reading them, please please leave them! This chapter has smut, and I’m not good at writing it, so you have been warned. MINORS DNI.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist

(If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 4

PART 3 <<

Approximately 7.0 k words

J: Come to the beach just outside The Hard Deck. 3pm.

You had been in the gym when you had received his text, his name flashing across the smart watch on your wrist as you re-racked a pair of dumbbells. You had responded by snapping a sweaty selfie of yourself, brow raised in question, your hair pulled back, face glowing with a sheen of sweat and post work out adrenaline.

He had responded with a picture of Rooster standing in the middle of the rec room, one of his trademark Hawaiian shirts hanging open around his body, football in hand.

Rooster coming through with the abs.

Your lip twists up in amusement as you send out your text, knowing that it would get him fired up. Your phone dings not even a minute later, and you swipe the message open to reveal a close- up picture, taken from top down of nothing but a set of chiseled muscle. The shade of skin tells you that it’s Jake’s, but his next message confirms it for you.

J: He isn’t the only one.

It makes you chortle as you sink down onto a workout bench. You feel your phone ping again, and you unlock it to a text from Pheonix.

Tash: You won’t happen to know why Hangman is lifting his shirt to take a picture of his abs in the middle of the rec room would you?

It makes your nose wrinkle up in amusement, a peel of laughter dropping from your lips.

The past week and a half since you had both returned from New York had been strange, with both you and Jake existing in a kind of limbo. Training had kicked up a notch for him again, with Cyclone and Warlock demanding an increased level of intensity of the programme. They weren’t the ones being trained this time around, but from the faces of the group that filtered into your house each night for dinner, it didn’t matter. It was obvious from their faces that they were all beat from the earlier mornings, ramped up physical exercises, and increased flight time. As much as they loved being airborne, it was an intensely physically demanding activity. Between his increased workload, and you having taken on tutoring Amelia on weeknights for her upcoming exams, you both hardly had a moment alone to yourselves, much less together.

It was not to say that there hadn’t been a shift between you both, because that much was undeniable. You and Jake remained you and Jake, but with an added layer of nuance to your relationship. It was something that you both felt - when his hand brushed against yours in the kitchen while the group was gathering up the dishes for dinner, when your knee bumped into his under the table at dinner and stayed leaning against his leg, the look in his eyes when he bade you goodnight midway through your session with Amelia, dragging himself off to bed in preparation for an early morning - but hadn’t had the chance to figure out.

“Sandwiches from Joe’s Deli.” You raise your hand, brown paper bag dangling from your fingers as you saunter up to the picnic benches facing the beach outside of The Hard Deck.

“Which ones?” Penny asks you, as she gathers hair hair into a ponytail behind her.

“Cuban and roast chicken, figured we could take a half of each.” You slide into onto the bench, pushing your shades up onto your head before you pull the contents of the bag out.

“So what’s the beach about, any idea?” You ask as you unwrap your half of sandwich before biting in.

“Dogfight football,” she explains in between bites of her own. “Something Pete had them do the last time around to bond them. You run offense and defense at the same time. It’s hard to explain, but you’ll see.”

You nod slowly, trying to grasp the idea as you brush crumbs off the front of the oversized shirt you had swapped your sweaty gym top for.

“Or, it’s basically a fancy term for bunch of half naked aviators running around getting sweaty and sandy while tossing around a ball.” She throws a wink in your direction.

“Does seeing Mav sweaty and sandy do it for you?” You tease.

“Honey,” she say looks at you point blank, unfazed, with a sly grin on her face “seeing that man in anything does it for me.”

The rumble of engines pulling up into the parking lot of The Hard Deck signals the group’s arrival. You have your back facing the parking lot, but the wide smile that breaks across Penny’s face lets you know that they have walked into view, Pete at the helm. You prop your chin up on your palm as the Captain walks up beside Penny, greeting her with a kiss to the lips to a round of whistles from the trainees who are filtering past the bench onto the sand.

“Hey Mav.” You offer a smile as they pull apart, turning their attention to you.

“Joining us for football?” He tilts his head towards the sand. “We’re severely underrepresented on the female front.” He pauses as he sees Jake walk into view, “and Hangman said you’ve got a mean arm.”

“I have brothers,” you explain, “they were really into football growing up. Got forced to pick it up.”

“You have to join,” Phoenix's voice cuts in as she pushes past Jake on their way towards the bench, to come up from behind, sliding into the seat beside you. “I’m sick of being around all these testosterone monkeys.” Her comment makes you eyeball the predominantly male crowd, picking out just another two female trainees.

“Don’t see you being sick of Rooster.” You don’t turn, but you can feel Jake’s presence behind you before he even speaks.

“Fuck off.” Phoenix glares daggers towards Jake.

“You’re the number one testosterone monkey she’s sick off.” Rooster chimes in, coming to join the group surrounding the table. He lowers his shades to look at you. “I don’t know how you live with him.”

“He’s insufferable.” Phoenix agrees. “Doesn’t it get tiring sharing a space with all that?” She gestures towards Jake a mock grimace on her face. “All that male bravado.”

“You’ll get used to it once he forces you to spend enough years tolerating him.” You deadpan, managing to keep the smile that threatens to curl around your lips off your face.

“Ya’ll are just haters.” Jake scoffs, tossing the football in his hands into the crowd on the beach, trusting that someone would catch it, before letting his elbow hang loosely from one your shoulders.

“You’re playing.” Phoenix grabs your arm as she stands and you sigh in defeat.

“There is no way I’m getting out of this am I?”

“None.” The chorus of voices from Phoenix, Rooster, Penny, Mav and Jake ring out in unison and you push yourself to a stand. It makes Jake move his arm off from your shoulder, fingers brushing against your lower back as it drops. “Fine, I’ll join.”

It earns a whoop from Phoenix who slaps Rooster’s hand in a high-five, the two running off towards the sand.

“You’re on my team.” Phoenix calls back to you, just as Maverick squeezes Penny’s shoulder, before following, a chuckle on his lips.

“I’m guessing you aren’t on their team?” You ask as you reach for the bottom of your shirt, tugging it over your head to reveal a sports bra and a pair of sports shorts, not keen on getting your clean shirt wet and sandy. You bend to stuff your shirt and sunglasses into your bag before hoisting it onto the table, your wordless request to Penny to keep on eye on your bag met with a nod from her.

“Any team with me is the winning team sweetheart.” Jake says, letting his gaze drop, trailing along your body, before coming back up lazily to meet your eyes. He is unbothered by Penny’s presence and the curious, yet knowing look she is giving you both. You feel a rush of heat burn it’s way along your core, watching his gaze as it travels over you.

“We’ll see about that,” you reach to put your hair up, throwing him a smirk before walking towards the group, his gaze burning into you as you walk away.

“Oh Lieutenant.”

The grating sound of the blonde female trainee, Becca’s voice makes you roll your eyes as you throw a glance towards her. You grit your teeth, causing your jaw to clench down as you see her throw her head back in a laugh, one of her hands coming to rest on Jake’s bare bicep.

You don’t hear what he says in quick response, but Jake doesn’t engage, choosing instead to turn his head towards Coyote, both men steeped in conversation.

“She’s noisy.” You grumble as you flop down on the sand in between Bob and Fanboy.

“She’s…. chatty.” Bob responds, as the three of look over to Becca whose fingers are still resting on Jake’s bicep.

“She’s been trying to get his attention since day one,” Fanboy says, tilting his chin towards both her and Jake.

“Not that he seems to care.” Bob adds, before shooting a subtly timed glance at you.

You make a non-committal grunt as a response, shoulders going upward in a shrug as you tear your gaze away from the blonde pair, focusing it instead on the aviators running around in front of you.

“Tash.” You shout, arms outstretched as you duck past two of the trainees on the opposing team. Phoenix looks to you, faking left before tossing the ball right towards you. You catch it in midair, before pivoting on your heels, feet sprinting past Payback towards the touchdown line marked out by a line in the sand. The line is meters within your reach when you feel a body collide with your legs, hands pulling you around your waist down to the sand. The ball rolls out of your hands on impact and you swear, sitting up to dust sand off from your hands to find yourself face to face with twinkling green eyes.

“You’ve always been mouthy on the field.” He says, between short breaths of air, only to have you mumble another curse under your breath.

“Yeah, well at least I’m focused on the game Lieutenant.” You grumble, biting out the last part of your sentence in imitation of what you had heard earlier as you push your hands and feet against the sand, staggering upright.

There is a hint of initial confusion on Jake’s face at the start of your sentence, but it instantly shifts to understanding at the last word.

“Are you,” he says while pushing himself into a more graceful stand so that he towers over you, “jealous?”

You squint upwards only to find his features etched into a smug, wide grin that is barely visible due to the sunlight fanning out from behind him.

“No.” You attempt at nonchalance is thwarted by the hard edge to your voice.

“Darlin,” he starts to say, but you choose to glare at him, mouth opening to cut him off.

“No.” You enunciate the single word clearly, loudly, as you flip yourself around, bending swiftly to pick up the ball before launching it at Jake. “Your ball Seresin.”

You had thrown it hard, but Jake catches it with ease, absorbing the impact in his hands and with his body as he watches you stalk away, the smug grin now a small smile furling out at the corners of his lips.

You are running across the sand, your eyes trained on the ball like a hawk, your frustration translating into hyper-focus.

“Pass it,” you yell to one of the trainees on your team. He throws it in your direction while on the run and you stretch out to catch the ball which shoots a bit past your reach, only for a flash of blonde hair and pale skin to lunge past you. Becca catches the ball on the fly and you find swear loudly, your legs picking up speed. You follow as she zips past Fanboy, propelling yourself in a small spin so that you are facing her, before you lunge forward with a jump off the sand. Your hands grab her hips, fingers pushing into her flesh for grip as your shoulder collides into her chest. You push forward and let the weight of your body and momentum slam her into the sand.

The ball rolls out of her hands, and you let yourself roll off her, the force from the sudden burst of energy behind your tackle causing your chest to heave up and down in exertion.

“My god,” you hear Becca’s whine as she clambers into an upright position to glare at you, “did you have to be so brutal?”

“It’s football, get over it.” You say as push yourself up into a seated position, fully intending to right yourself into a stand when you feel her fingers digging into your forearm.

“The force was uncalled for,” she says again, and you look to find her eyes narrowed at you. “Who the heck are you anyway? You aren’t one of us.” Her last question leaves you smarting, as you tear your hand forcefully out of her grip, your legs moving you away from her.

“Hey,” she rushes herself to a stand, following after you, “you just some rando who decided to join our game?”

You exhale loudly, your eyes rolling upwards to the sky in a mixture of both anger and exasperation.

“I-” You brace yourself, turning around to come nose to nose with Becca.

“Williams.” Tash voice breaks in, her tone icy. “Watch your tone.”

“M’am, I-” Becca pales, slipping into a tone of address that showcases her slightly lower rank, and place on the totem pole that is TOPGUN.

“She’s my friend and here at my invitation.” You watch as Tash comes to stand beside you, her feet squaring as she stares Becca down. “I think that makes her as much of one of us as you are, don’t you?”

Your brain fogs with admiration for Tash in the moment, her steely but calm demeanour reminding you just why she is where she is.

“Yes M’am.” Becca stammers, as Tash shoots her a dismissive look, indicating that the conversation had ended.

“You okay?” Tash turns to you, friendly concern on her features. “They get a bit too big for their britches just because they get called here.” She explains, and you offer a tired smile.

“Fine Tash.” You nod, “thanks for that.”

“Just stepping in to save her,” she winks at you, “pretty sure you would have been the more lethal poison.”

“Hey, what happened?” You feel Jake’s fingers touch your elbow lightly, right as he jogs up to both of you, brows knitted slightly, genuine concern on his face. He had been standing on the sidelines, but his eye had been on you the whole time. He had watched the interaction, not thinking much of it, apart from that it was a tackle. But them moment he had seen your body language shift and you tense up, he had started to weave his way towards you. And, the moment he had seen Phoenix cut in, he was jogging across the sand towards you.

“Williams,” Tash explains with a shrug, not delving into detail.

“I’m going to sit out for a while, sub me.” You tell Tash and she nods, jogging back towards the group on the sand.

“Something is on your mind.” Jake says pointedly as he follows you back to the picnic bench you had vacated earlier. You see Penny two benches away, phone pressed to her ear in conversation and you and Jake each raise a hand in greeting which she acknowledges with a nod.

“Go back to football Lieutenant.” You say as you pull your phone from your bag, clicking through your notifications.

Jake plans himself down on the bench, his gaze fixed on you as you flick through the notification banners on your phone. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this, uncharacteristically closed off, and uncommunicative.

“What?” You ask, feeling his gaze on you, but refusing to look up at him.

“Talk to me.” He says, the surprising amount of patience in his voice being the thing that finally makes you look at him and straight into greens which implore you to tell him what is on your mind. Perhaps it was the unspoken words, unsorted feelings, and unresolved tension that had been building since the day of Annie’s wedding, but you feel it - a crackle of electricity between you both as he stared straight into your eyes.

“I’m going to get some water.” You mumble, dumping your phone onto the table with a clatter, your eyes shying away from the intensity of the look he has directed at you.

Your phone rings, as soon as you step into The Hard Deck. Jake glances down at the unknown number flashing across your screen. He picks it up, swiping across the screen to answer without much thought.

“Hello?” He says, only to hear a voice he recognises calling out your name in confusion.

“Dan.” Jake’s lips press into a firm line, distaste on his voice.

“Jake.” Dan says, tone equally cool. “Look just get her to call me back alright? I’m returning her calls from last night.”

The sentence makes Jake’s mind whirl, an uncomfortable feeling balling in his chest. His stomach feels like it has dropped a million feet below ground. He doesn’t respond to Dan, choosing instead to end the call. He keeps your phone clutched in his hand, knuckles whitening from the force with which he is gripping the device.

He sees you exit The Hard Deck, glass of water in your hand.

“You called Dan?” He spits out, voice loud as he whips his head around to focus on you.

You eye your phone on the table. The heat of his gaze feels like it could burn through you.

“No one asked you to answer my phone.” You shoot back, your own eyes flashing with rage. Normally, Jake answering or even using your phone unsanctioned wouldn’t have bothered you in the slightest, but your irritation from your earlier interaction with Becca rises up, bubbling into an anger.

“You called Dan.” He says again, maintaining his volume, repeating his accusation.

You had called Dan the night before that much was true. However, you had called him solely at the behest of another one of your colleagues, to sort of work related matters which were best and more quickly dealt with over the phone.

“And?” You walk up to the picnic table, placing your glass down with more force than necessary, causing water to slosh out from the side. You tilt your head down slightly to stare straight at Jake, arms folded tightly across your chest, refusing to explain in the moment in the face of his aggression and your original irritation.

“And?” He throws his hands in the air, rising to full height, forcing you to tilt your head upwards instead. “Why the fuck are you still calling Dan?”

You want to wince at his words, his anger, but you steel yourself, your fingers gripping the side of your own arm instead. Jake fights like anyone would expect Jake to fight, he is aggressive, brusque, words harsh and cutting. He would never lay a hand on a woman, much less you, but the lack of physicality manifests itself in waves of anger and extreme hostility that roll off him.

“Why the fuck is that any of your business?” You counter back, seething.

“Why the fuck, is that any of my fucking business?” You see his jaw clench and the vein in his neck strain. You both fall silent, staring at each other for what seems like an uncomfortable eternity, before he throws his hands in the air. “Maybe it’s none of my fucking business.” He finally says, voice thin, dropping back to a normal decibel. You see the intensity in his features falter slightly, doubt flooding his eyes, but his jaw remains clenched tightly.

Jake turns, and you stand, frozen, watch him walk back onto the sand, grabbing up his shirt and shades before heading back towards the parking lots.

“Jake.” You call, your body shifting to face his vanishing back. He doesn’t respond. “Jake.” You try again, louder this time, but he continues walking away. He disappears around the corner, and you hear the faint sounds of a car door slamming and the engine of his truck starting up. He hasn’t said anything more, hasn’t done anything, hasn’t laid a hand on you, but there a pain blistering through your chest.

“Hey,” you feel a gentle hand come to rest on your arm, pulling you back into the now, “are you okay?” Penny asks.

“I don’t know,” you find yourself admitting, as you continue to stare at the corner Jake had disappeared around despite him being long gone by now.

You end at at Penny’s that night, tutoring Amelia from Penny’s dining table instead of your own. Penny had invited you over, insisting that you take a shower while she made you dinner, with no obligation on you to help Amelia out with her school work that night. You had accepted the invitation, showered, changed into a set of Penny’s clothes, sat through dinner, letting the conversation between the mother and daughter duo distract you. You had smiled and laughed your way through dinner, but Penny had noticed how your smile didn’t hit your eyes the way it usually did.

“You know, you both could take a day off.” Penny says, as she wipes her hands against a dishcloth as she eyes you and Amelia, both hunched over in the corner of the dining room table, Amelia’s school work spread across the dark mahogany of her table.

“I can handle it myself today.” Amelia offers to you, her eyes glancing up as the tip of her pen pauses over paper.

“Nah, I’m good.” You offer both a small smile before you turn back to the words in front of you. The words on the page blur, as your eyes un-focus, your memory clouding instead with the image of Jake walking away, burning through your mind, playing on repeat. Jake had never, in your years of friendship walked away from you once before - not once. You had both fought, shouted it out at each other before, but he had never walked away from you. Jake had always stuck around, walked you home, you both bristling in anger and silence, even after you both fought tooth and nail, tearing at each others throats. You had never had to call out to him twice, much less watch him walk away.

“Do you want to stay here for the night?” Penny asks you as she walks over to the table, placing a hand on the backs of each yours and Amelia’s chairs.

“Please?” You ask, and she nods, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Not being here, meant being back home with Jake, or worse, without him.

“Of course, I’ll grab some clean sheets for the guest room.” Penny walks towards the back of the house as the doorbell rings. “Can you get that, I think it’s Pete.” She calls out to you.

“Sure.” You push your chair back to a stand and make your way to the front door, pulling it open to reveal two different sets of green eyes staring back at you.

“Found him in the gym at the base abusing a punching bag.” Pete says before either you or Jake can speak.

Pete offers you a smile, clapping you gently on the shoulder before making his way past you and into the house. It leaves you to look at Jake, hair damp from a shower which you assumed Pete must have forced him to take as a literal and figurative cooldown before dragging him over, dressed in a white tee and grey sweatpants. His knuckles are red, the skin on them looking raw and battered.

Jake takes you in, your hand still on the door handle, dressed not too dissimilarly from him in a pair of Penny’s old sweatpants and a dark plain tee. He had regretted walking away from you the moment he did, regretted it even more each time you had called his name, but his legs had kept moving forward, rage masking fear clawing through him. The thought of you calling Dan had sent his thoughts straight into a tailspin. You both hadn’t had the time to tackle the issue properly post Annie’s wedding, but Jake had thought, assumed that it was clear that you both meant more to each other even without words. Hearing Dan’s voice on the phone, hearing that you had called him, and you not providing an explanation immediately, had made him think the worst.

“Can we go,” he speaks first, both your gazes locked firmly onto each other, each assessing the other silently, “home?” he asks, almost afraid to. Jake’s jaw is still tense. His earlier feelings of rage and fear are still stewing in him, circling his belly, running through his veins, but Jake knows that in spite of everything, he doesn’t want to go back alone to a house that doesn’t have you.

You both end up driving back separately, you pulling up onto the driveway before him. Neither of you speaks as you walk up to the house, as you unlock the front door and Jake shuts it behind you as you tug your shoes off. He follows suit, tugging his own shoes off before following you as you enter the kitchen.

“I called Dan last night for work.” You finally speak up as you enter the house, dumping your bag down on the table in the dining room. You turn to lean against the table, arms folded defensively across your body to face Jake who stands a short distance away. You watch as he drags his hand across his forehand only to rake it through his hair, before you continue with your explanation, one that you should have given hours ago. “It was at the request of someone who is handling something I was working on, and it was faster to pick up the phone and give him a call.”

You eye Jake as he continues to stare straight at you.

“I didn’t want to send him a text and draw out the conversation,” you shrug, your shoulder lifting slightly, “didn’t want to have to open my work laptop either.”

Jake takes a step towards you, the knot of rage and fear swirling through his veins undoing itself almost instantly.

“I thought…” he starts, and you loosen the fold of your arms across your chest slightly, unknowingly as he nears.

“No.” You cut him off, without needing him to finish his sentence. You knew his question, knew what he thought. “I’ve told you before Jake,” you reference your conversation from the other night, enunciating each word clearly so that your intention is clear, “no.”

He comes to a stop in front of you and you unfold your arms, palms coming to grip the sides of the dining table. He is close enough that you can see the first signs of sunburn which has started to bloom across his face, cheeks, the bridge of his nose, the faint pink mixing in with his tan, standing out against the greens of his eyes. You can hear the sound of his breathing, clear against the silence of the night. He moves, just an inch closer to you, and you hold his gaze.

“No.” He murmurs, and his face moves an inch down, and closer to yours.

“No.” You respond, a sudden, slight rasp to your voice as your eyes flicker to his mouth, remembering the feeling of his lips against yours.

He slots his hands onto the dining table, in the small space between your own palms which are against the wood, and your body, looking at you once more, searching, giving you a chance to move away, but you don’t, the pace of your heartbeat quickening. The tension between you both is thick, heavy, palpable.

“Jake?” You ask, your voice low, soft.

“Yeah.” He says, not a question, and you can feel him stepping in between your legs.

“Just fucking kiss me already.”

It’s all he need, and Jake obliges, his lips come crashing down against yours, both your teeth clinking together. Jake slides his hands around your hips, lifting you onto the edge of the table, and your hands go straight onto the back of his head, gripping his hair, pulling him urgently towards you. It’s messy, desperate, urgent, unlike the first kiss you had shared at Annie’s wedding, weeks, or even years of tension build up between you both exploding at once. You were friends, just best friends, and this shouldn’t have felt so right, but it did.

You feel Jake’s tongue swipe against your bottom lip, asking, and you grant him access. His hands move under your shirt and up your body. You feel his fingers run up your sides, gripping your ribs, and you take it as an invitation to move your hands down and under his shirt, palms placed flat against his abdomen, feeling the lines and ridges of his body. His hand moves up, finger’s finding their way along the curve of your bare breasts.

“You aren’t wearing a bra.” He manages to groan through the kiss.

“Penny didn’t have one for me.” You gasp as he tears away from your, his lips coming to graze your neck instead. His fingers work their way to across the pebbled skin of your nipples, rolling each bud and it makes you grip his waist to press your clothed hips into his. You grab the bottom of his shirt, pushing it upwards. He reads your cue, and pulls away momentarily to yank his tee across his head, tossing it behind him.

“All you had to do was ask.” He tells you. Jake’s eyes are dark with arousal, but the smug, mischievous uptick of his lips let’s you know that despite this, despite the fact that your hips are pressed against his, despite the fact that he had your breast in his hands, lips against your neck moments ago, despite the fact that you can feel the hardening bulge in his sweatpants - he is still Jake, the Jake that you know, your Jake even in this moment.

“Shut up,” you growl, putting your hands on the bottom of your own shirt, pulling it over your head and dropping it onto the table behind you. Jake takes in the sight, the look on his face sending a shot of fire straight down to your core. His hands are on the waistband of your sweatpants almost immediately, tugging them down. “Eager?”

“Very.” He responds, the register of his voice deeper, coated with lust as his lips crash into yours once more.

“She didn’t have underwear for me either.” You mutter against the kiss as you lift your hips, letting him slide the garment off you. It makes him groan again, loudly this time against your mouth. Jake grips each of your thighs with his hands and pulls away, allowing his eyes to travel across your body, to drink you in.

“Like what you see?” You ask in imitation of him from the other morning, clad in nothing but his towel. You had expected yourself to be shy, for there to be an undercurrent of awkwardness between you both, but it was clear that you both wanted, needed each other as much as the other and seeing Jake in front of you, knowing that it was Jake in front of you made you forget any notion of that. He was Jake, and you were you, and you could be you.

“Baby,” he says, unfazed at your imitation, the term from his lips making you weak, as he grips the flesh of your thighs harder, “you have no idea.” Jake punctuates his sentence by trailing his hand up your inner thigh to draw a finger across your already dripping slit. The contact makes you moan as you throw your head backwards, arching your back.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles, as he drops to his knees. He doesn’t give you a chance to think, pulling you to the edge of the table, leaving a track of your arousal on the wood as he pulls you forward, before spreading your knees wider apart.

“Jake,” you breathe and he throws you a smirk before bringing his mouth to your cunt, tongue licking a long flat strip against your slit, before swirling around your clit. His eyes are locked onto yourself, and you find yourself staring at him with his mouth fixed on your cunt. It makes you moan, loud, needy, desperate, and your hands grip into his hair. “Fuck.”

Jake eats you out like a man starved, his lips suckling, tongue moving against you, and all you can do is buck your hips against his mouth, and hook your legs around his shoulders. Jake notices your hips that have begun to circle his tongue and he raises a hand to slide his fingers, one first, and then two, into you, his tongue not stopping it’s work against you. You feel your head begin to cloud, belly start to clench as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the pads of his fingertips massaging in a come hither gesture against your walls. You gather yourself enough through your haze to look down at him, his lips, chin, nose covered in a mixture of your slick and his own saliva.

“Cum for me.” He rasps against you, and as if on command, your body obeys, unfurling itself around his fingers which don’t stop moving, fucking you through the waves of your orgasm. You find yourself reaching for him blindly, as your body comes down from it’s high, your orgasm ebbing away, to pull his face back up towards yours. You kiss him, eager, sloppily, tasting the scent of yourself against his lips.

“Jake,” you say, his name slowly becoming a habit, almost a litany. He is about to respond, but you don’t let him, your hands going straight to his sweatpants, palming his cock through the soft cotton. Your first orgasm should have left you satiated, but instead it leaves you even more desperate, more needing, wanting more, wanting Jake. “Fuck me, please.”

Your ask, Jake decides, is all he has ever needed.

“I’m not fucking you for the first time on the table.” He hoists you up, his arms holding you by the waist, lips crashing against yours to become tangled with yours once again. You find yourself winding your hands around his neck and legs around his body, your cunt, still dripping, pressed up against his abs as he moves you both to his bedroom.

He drops you onto the bed in a seated position. Jake’s hands hands having barely pulled down his sweatpants and boxers before he feels your hands on his cock. He can’t help the hiss that escape him as he observes you take him in visually, your hand moving up and down the sheath of his cock, your thumb swirling around the tip, spreading the pearl of pre-cum around it’s angry red head.

“Do we need a-” He barely manages to gasp, losing focus for a second, as your hands pump against his cock.

“I’m clean and on birth control.” He trusts you.

“I’m clean,” he confirms and you trust him equally.

“Then fuck me.” You drop the please and run your thumb across the head of his cock and he moans, claiming your lips with his once again, pushing your back onto the bed. You spread your legs open, knees bent at an angle and in the sky, and Jake lines his cock up with your entrance before pushing in.

“Oh god.. fuck.” You cry out as your body adjusts to him, around him.

“Not god baby, Jake.” He says, his hands coming to land palms down on the mattress on either side of your head. Jake observes your face, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Move.” You implore him, your legs capturing him around the waist, pulling him closer into you, hands hooking themselves under his arms and on his shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” he says, as he begins to thrust in and out of you, each stroke hitting you deeper, harder, than the last. He can feel your nipples, hard and moving against his bare chest as the impact from each thrust of his cock into your causing your body to move in and up down motion together with him. The sounds of your arousal is obscene, wet and slick against him.

He drops his head onto the crook of his neck, his body continuing it’s pace as he fucks into you, his public bone hitting your clit each time he thrusts in. Jake feels your teeth bite down on his shoulder and it shoots straight down to his cock, causing him to shudder.

“I’m close.” You hear his voice in your hear, destabilised, unlike his usual smooth drawl. “Are you..” He begins to ask, not wanting to finish only to leave you hanging.

“Faster.” You demand, your hand moving in between the both of you to rub against your clit. He catches your hand, replacing it with is own as he picks up the pace, slamming into you harder, faster, his fingers rubbing at your clit with a matched pace.

Jake feels your orgasm before you do, from the way your walls clench around him, the same way they had clenched around his fingers earlier, and he thrusts into you, long, pace jerky and off balance, a tell tale sign of his own incoming orgasm. He sees your head roll back, hears the cry that comes from your mouth, feels your finger nails digging into his back, and Jake let’s himself go, hitting his orgasm as loudly as you had met your own.

Jake lets himself sag down on top of you, himself still buried deep in you. It takes you both more than a few moments to reorientate yourself.

“That was,” you start, your words coming out in short, wispy pants, and Jake rolls you both over so that you are on his chest. He takes the sight of you in, hair messy, strands sticking to the side of your face and neck with a sheen of sweat, eyes still slightly glazed in your post orgasm high, lips swollen, He brings a hand up to run through the side of your hair, his fingertips scratching at the top of your scalp gently, before finishing your sentence.

“Amazing.”

The clean up is quick, efficient, with you both darting into the shower together. There are touches, kisses, jokes, smiles, but it’s fast, with you both more keen to get out and back into bed. Jake pulls on a clean pair of sweatpants, and you steal one of his tees before you both climb back into his bed.

Neither of you have talked about what happened, but you both know don’t have to, not when you both feel the same, feel like this. You hadn’t spoken about it in the days after Annie’s wedding and the tension build up had caused undeniable friction, but now - this was different, there were no words, no discussion, but even without you were both now clear on each other. He opens his arms, and you tuck yourself into his side, against one of his biceps, both of you laying back against the pillow.

“So Lieutenant,” you shift to prop your head up on the back of your palms which you now have flat on his bare chest, your words light and teasing, but clearly bringing up the earlier events of the day. The transition back to you and Jake being well, you and Jake was easy, seamless, as if nothing had changed despite the fact that he had been balls deep in you, fucking your brains out just minutes ago.

“Jake.” He corrects as he stares down at you, his chin backing into his neck slightly from his position against the pillows of his bed.

“You don’t like Lieutenant?” You ask innocently. “Heard someone else calling you Lieutenant this afternoon.” You mock, as Jake watches you from his position against the pillow.

Jake eyes your for a good second before he flips you over easily in one fluid motion so that you are on your back, his body pressing into yours, chest flattening your breasts which are hidden by his shirt, either arm caging you in onto his bed, Jake’s head just above your own.

“I only ever want to be Jake to you.” There is no witty come back, no sexualised innuendo. His tone of voice is genuine, his features serious, and the simplicity of it, so different from his usual demeanour knocks the wind from your system.

He might not have minded the term Lieutenant with other women, but Jake didn’t care about other women - they were not you. He had known you long before he had become Naval Aviator: Jake “Hangman” Seresin, and he intended to continue to know you long after the day, if ever, he stopped being Naval Aviator: Jake “Hangman” Seresin. Being Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin had become an important part of him, but before that he had just been Jake, the Jake that had met you while running around the block, the Jake you had done high school and college with, the Jake that you dropped a text to when you had something funny to share, the Jake that you called when there is something to celebrate, the Jake that you reached out to when something bad had happened, the Jake that was as much a part of your life as you were in his, your Jake, something he would never stop being.

Your eyes search his, and all you see is Jake. You respond in the best way you know how, by reaching up, tugging him down and letting your lips connect with his.

>> PART 5

Series taglist: @blue-aconite @rosiahills22 @luckyladycreator2 @britty443 @yanak324 @rule107 @fuckyeahhangman @spidey-d00d @dempy @barista-library @alexwinchester23 @shakira-sasha @bxwitched @lumenseal @obiwankenobis-lap @prettybiching @littlebadariell @actuallybarb @beaner-life-23 @coco-loco-nut @criminalyetminimal @tragzerus @alana4610 @tkmarvel-divergentbish @kilojulietsierra @imagineyneyjr @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ive-got-more-wit @fuzzy-panda @helloimhereforabit @meowimakellysaurusrex @t-rexs @iangiemae @shawnsthighs @cxit-writes @shanimallina87 @dempy @mell-bell @saynotononsense @justsplendidd @dont-talk-me-down @the-cranck-hobbit @blindedbyyourgrace17 @fandom-life-12 @bxwitched @indynerdgirl @hope-love-equality2 @fangirlofallthings22 @alistocats @callsign-marlie @bellamy1998 @slayry @bladed-planes @turningtoclown @double-j

#jake seresin #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #flyboy #flyboy fic #not cm #hangman seresin #hangman top gun #hangman fanfiction

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swanmaids · 1 year

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“Actually I have a lot of thoughts about Dwarven patriarchy in general but that's another conversation lol” 🥴 so what’s the opinion?

Thank you for asking! Ok , so I've had thoughts about this for a while, and considered making a post about it before, but I felt bad. I know many people are attached to headcanons of GNC Dwarves/ Dwarves having a very egalitarian society without gender roles, and similar hcs. And that's great, and I definitely don't want to tell anyone their hcs are wrong or they shouldn't have them, yknow?

That said, I do wish the fact that Dwarven - at least, Longbeards in the Third Age- society is very patriarchal was talked about more. The most egregious example is the custom of leaving women off the family tree. Leaving somebody off the family tree is saying - your life didn't matter, you may as well not have existed. None of the other speaking peoples have a custom of doing this. Yes, one woman makes it in to the House of Durin histories - woohoo! - but that's explicitly stated to be a rare thing and not for her own merits, but the deeds of her sons. Even Durin doesn't get a Queen.

Also, Dwarf women don't travel, except in "times of great need". You could probably infer this from the Hobbit, but it's confirmed in the RotK appendices. And that... sucks, lmao. Their indepence and knowledge of the outside world would be severely restricted by this. It also has pretty awful implications for the sack of Erebor, since Thorin states in the Hobbit that most of the survivors were outside the mountain, e.g. a lot of Dwarf women were trapped and died horribly. In real life, mortality in natural disasters can be affected by gender, and this feels like a sad parallel to that.

I like the Dwarves, I think they're sympathetic and interesting and I wish we had more knowledge about them. I love reading people's headcanons and fan meta about them. But I wish this was acknowledged more.

#ask game

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soldier-poet-king · 8 months

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career anxiety which turned into existential dread which turned into me guiltily defending my use of stories as narrative framing devices for my own life & human existence as storytelling more broadly (smthn smthn sometimes you gotta be a little mentally unwell to be mentally well)

what is possibly the longest cringe worst thing ive ever put on this webbed site, but i gotta get it out in writing to clear my head and i type more quickly than i write and if there's a post length limit by god i'm gonna find out

with my deepest apologies if this readmore doesnt work

so we had a Big Fancy Meeting at work today, with a group of information professionals from an Outside Institution (some of whom i had met previously), and which i got to sit in on/play tech support for, which was all fine and well for the actual presentation portion of the event, but afterwards when it was informal chatting and the like it was just???

The following things are true:

i actually got to speak with people close-ish to my age and in my profession

it was a very nice and enjoyable experience and we got to talk both seriously about professional things and also jokingly shoot the shit about shared woes with this one outdated archival software that everyone under the age of 60 hates with a passion

i was also incredibly jealous of this group of archivists & librarians because they're all /friendly/ with each other and i am lonely being the youngest person at work

i am also jealous because theyre working on very exciting projects at A Big Institution with Actual Resources and Technology and PROCEDURES my beloved, and not the slapdash kinda thing going on at my work

this in turn made me anxious because there were certain elements of the conversation i couldn't follow and i worry about my professional development at my current job, and that my technical skills are either atrophying, or not growing in a way that would enable me to get hired at A Big Institution like this one (which is the ultimate goal)

this in turn made me more stressed about my current job, which i just got promoted to fulltime permanent for the following

beyond the skill atrophy fear there is also the fact that my boss is grooming me to be her successor when she retires in 5 yrs and i very Much Do Not Want to be here in 5 years

this adds several layers of guilt

i was just promoted so im getting really sweet messages of congrats from random ppl in other departments who i didnt even think knew/care i existed - the people at this workplace are extremely nice, even if im like. meh. about some of the work/procedures/etc

a large part of my promotion being approved hinged on the fact that im undertaking this big technical project that my boss doesnt have the technical know-how to do. so i cant just bail and leave them high and dry without feeling guilt. but also. it's not so fancy a project that someone else couldnt do it. anyone in my field worth their salt and not super old should be able to handle it. sure i work hard and im friendly, but surely that's not that rare in an employee

i dont even KNOW if there's better opportunities out there. but i see stuff on the listserv all the time, and assuming i could land those jobs, they pay better and are at larger orgs and more in line with what i want

there is an element to working non-profit adjacent that is guilt inducing as well as [redacted thing about my work that would make me feel even guiltier for leaving, i cannot say what, but it is Significant]

this of course, tapped into my larger, ongoing sense of ennui and being 'stuck' and fears about unchosen monotony and purposelessness and all that mid 20s recent grad existential bullshit. i cant really do anything to solve it bc yknow, unprecedented housing crisis, rent is insane, im stuck living in a dysfunctional household which traumatized me as a child, etc etc etc. but broadly:

i am afraid of being stuck in a mediocre job forever. my boss has worked for two (2) archives her whole life and has always done non-profit adjacent work and is like. a one man small archive thing. i VERY MUCH DO NOT WANT THAT

i feel guilty for wanting

idk how to want things or be a person (separate issue), but i know very much what i want career wise. i know what makes me happy and satisfied. and i know what im good at. im doing fine at my current job but i know i could be so much MORE and i want that desperately

if my personal life is always doomed to be dismal, as is my family life, can i at least have one thing

i gave up academia for my mental health and some degree of financial stability, can i at least satisfy SOME of my ambitions here?? just a few??

yes this is pride. yes this is ambition. just bc i spent so long extremely depressed and with 0 self esteem does not make me immune to ambition, even if non traditional.

i feel immense guilt over this but i dont stop wanting it

ofc, my brain is a web, all existence is inextricably interconnected, and im listening to the tge audiobook on my commute and rotating csevet in my brain, thara is more personal, more beloved maybe, but csevet is my fave lil guy babygirl and i have a thing for fantasy secretaries, so i am now thinking even MORE of ambition, and how i have it, and how i love that im good at this one complex but boring thing, i am thinking of kip mdang, of kamet, of muire lo, of how some of my deepest loves, in no particular order, include: organization and scheduling, devotion, competency, well-ordered policies and procedures, righteous anger, boring skills being used to change the world for good, small kindnesses, Duty, loyalty to a person or ideal which goes beyond the functional and the expected and which extends into unprecedented levels of intimacy - whether it be friendship, qprs, romance, etc, and also, metadata and research

so. as i sit there sorting this all out in my brain i am like. wow you are a pathetic human being. you are not even a person. like. why is everything being framed in terms of narrative and story. why does everything relate to a Broader Theme or Arc or Meaning.

i am forcibly reminded of being undiagnosed, unmedicated, aged 18/19 and trying to explain smthn really personal about myself to someone i knew from youth group and him being like. wow. you describe everything and relate to everything from stories.

to this day i live in embarassment over this moment. but also. lowkey. fuck him. and tradcath circles be WILD, the social dynamics BAD, and it was not the place for me to be, even tho i latched on to it lacking any other social contact at the time. if a complete mental breakdown, latent OCD, and a really painful loss of friends is what it took to get me out. like. i cant say i dont regret the loss, but also, i like who im becoming much better now

ANYWAY. i got thinking about stories and why i am and am not extremely cringe

i am a big believer in storytelling is the oldest human activity. it's the most fundamental human activity. this isn't some nihilistic devaluing of the human person, the soul, the human experience, it is instead and elevation of the story. because like. stories are what we do to live. it's why we live. it's how we communicate. storytelling is how we turn to another person and we attempt to communicate the innermost secrets of our heart. language is a flawed tool always ultimately falling short. but we use stories to share ourselves with each other, to be recognized and known, and throughout the ages, to share our grief and love, to know to oneself, no, i'm not the only one, others have experienced this before too. stories are balms and inspirations and are ultimately reflections of their creators, they reflect some Truth about the human experience back to us

im not even talking like. published stories. tv shows. mcu ification of media. i mean /stories/. in whatever form. from whatever time. this isn't a fandom thing - though there is overlap, im not talking about consumption for the sake of consumption, or consumption as a personality trait

i mean like. stories as the bedrock of humanity because it is the only way we can attempt to understand ourselves. stories are foundational because the human person is too complex, having too much of the image of the divine in it, to ever be really fully successfully understood. and so of course. of course we turn to stories in times of trouble, and triumph, and all the times in between. how could we not turn to stories to attempt the divine understanding that is always ultimately beyond us?

(i have a whole other locked and loaded series of thoughts on storytelling in faith traditions, and specifically how the bible is a literary work as well as a spiritual one, and the reasons for this reflected in the human soul, but i digress)

so really. maybe i am pathetic and cringe and a fake not real person (i am all of those things), but i hope it's not because i think in stories, in themes, in arcs. everything is tangled in my brain, inextricable, i can do nothing else, i know nothing else, i would not want anything else, unless it were the full divine understanding beyond mortal means

and besides. i am trying. to be better. to be more. to have comforts and hobbies beyond this. the crafting. the cooking. the career ambitions that arose when i found something that i was good at and enjoyed and was /me/. my insatiable need to learn to dance.

i dont know where im going with this. i barely know where i started. it's stories all the way down, because it's people all the way down, and we are all mirrors of each other and we are all connections with each other in a vast caring world. or. so i like to think

#franposting #long post #im so sorry but also i needed this so.#smthn smthn you go to the circus (my blog) dont be surprised when there's clowns (me) etc etc #i had to take a break in the middle of typing this bc i got worn out emotionally #should that have been a sign to stop? maybe. but i cant read so that sign wont stop me etc #this is the most embarassing cringe thing i have ever posed in my ELEVEN YEARS on this site #ah well #gotta weed out the weak. natural selection for my horribleness #and now. i am going to play bg3 for a bit. and then read. and then bed bc alas. commuting

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vivi266 · 1 year

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yknow maybe this is partially biased because i

a. have never lived in one, and b. am a hater,

but god are american style suburbs fucking weird to try and just... exist in. not even when considering amenities and stuff. just go outside. it's all the same. no sidewalks. confusing road layouts. same or similar houses basically as far as you can see

who does this even fucking appeal to

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leadendeath · 7 months

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fssghfghsf my brain's going mad with ideas for oc(s?), this REALLY needs a readmore

so yeah same shark as before. i love sharks would love to have one as a Me. i'm feeling confident so look at me face boy

(it doesn't have white hair, i'm still figuring out whether to give him black or white or grey with black tips!! all my sonas have some level of autobiographicalness to them and i have black hair with white on the sides! ALSO HE'S NOT FREAKIN STONED HE'S TIRED!!!!!!)

but i love shrimps too,,,

I'VE HAD A GREAT IDEA FOR EITHER OF THEM THOUGH!

yknow how humans make robotic sea creatures with the purpose to observe the sea creatures and walk among them? I WANNA HAVE ONE OF THOSE

and well i'd love to encorporate roboticness into either of these guys.

for the shrimp idk what kind of shrimp bc i don't know much about them yet, but it would look like this THING:

^love this pic so much. yes i know it is a lobster. (actually is it?? i’m bad at recognising) imagine that but smoll shrempy guy

it solves the problem of How Do I Insert The Guy Into That Pre-Existing World other than "he's just there lol" because that's uncool and unimaginative (i have so little imagination it's amazing i can be an artist-type thing at all ;-; this is really rare that i'm able to come up with anything and it's making me insane i had to run around my house. (positive))

eheheheh... these guys are for um. self ship reasons. and the shrimp would be a better more convenient size for the pairing in question, but uh i like the shark more; one reason is because,,, s-size difference .... 🥴 who said that

lastly it's funny i realised After this idea, that my fursona (the minodemon you all know and love) also has robotic elements (well cybernetic but still artificial nonorganic goodness<3) and he was interfered with by humans

:3 i'm really feeling like charlie kelly pepe silvia moment right now i've been manic for about 3 days and not sleeping a lot and there's thunder outside which is energizing and it's october and *explodes*

#i have to bulletpoint my own dang writing because I Can't Read </adhd>#i wrote Lastly for the final bulletpoint wtf mans really writing an essay irl #i AM having fun but i am also feeling quite a lot of the ''hahaha i wanna get off the ride now!!! :'D'' it's ok though!#🦈

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demonstars · 8 months

Note

would you consider c!dnf to be star-crossed lovers?

yes. Hi this is why i took so long anon.

the definition of star crossed in wikipedia is “"thwarted by a malign star" or that the stars are working against the relationship” . And obviously peak quote right there from shakespeare’s play (tho i think i read somewhere it Has a precedent? but as many things the one writing gets all the credit probably): A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life. LIKE YOU KNOW IT YOU KNOW THE THEMES YOU ASKED ABOUT IT sorry i just like defining stuff ok but um yeah Literally that there’s something above them that prevents their relationship from occurring or continuing. in this case it is the fact that the one thing that the dsmp is trying to amend is the fact that dnf can’t be together, so they play together. this is a very important factor because the reason as to why the dsmp as a narrative exists, is because everyone was just generally inside their houses, looking for connection. i am so passionate about this, so please bear with me.

SO at first glace it is mostly due to their actions that they fall apart. specifically a lot of people but the weight of their separation on cdream’s well entire Thing. yknow control the fawking disks and general uncaring behaviour towards cgeorge. or well no i dont actually know those were a takes in 2020. Of course this is cDream Is A Complex Character, Actually house so we’re Not going to allow such a lack of nuance in our interpretation, but the weight still falls on him a little, no? well no but yes. you see, in a way, i do think cdnf were preemptively doomed just from the core conflict that emerges the first time they fight against an actual force (lmanberg) I think i wrote this in the doc?? but To Me the actual reason as to the conflict between cdnf, ignoring the boiling point that’s obviously dethronement, is just how much stakes they have in the game aka how much they care about the other/the world. cdream cares. cdream cares so fucking much about everything. he Feels responsible for everything, when conflict happens he tries his best to act upfront about it and fix it: he wants to help everyone and he cares too much about everything, in a way that almost makes him a control freak. if he can fix everything, everyone can live happily – but that requires everyone’s trust in him to make the right decision, and well sometimes people just wont listen to you and it doesnt matter whether or not youre right. and you can think like. a little fucked up but here’s da other thing. cgeorge just doesnt give a single fuck. cdream says its okay? eh, it must be true. he has Full Trust In All His Decisions. and that doesnt necessarily means he’s unable to make his own, or that he doenst. he goes against cdreams decisions a lot of times actually but just in Silly Mode: is just that he prefers it to when they are together, the same side. and this is what makes them work so well! cdream likes and treasures that trust. cgeorge loves that cdream cares for him and his wellbeing. It was neverrrrrrrr them Themselves who would’ve made it not work out.

i think that there’s like the knowledge that it can’t work out in that world what makes it fall apart. the world becomes hostile against them, and as their relationships weakens due to a Variety of Reasons, it justcouldve never worked out. It’s less their decisions (cdream was going to come back for cgeorge, cgeorge would’ve received him with a little snark but open arms) BUTTHEY JUST DONT /GET TO HAVE THAT RESOLUTION/. THEY KEEP /MISSING EACH OTHER/. its like seeing two stars in the same sky in vertical knowing they will NEVER reach each other. they dont get a define conclusion and we (and them) are just left to what ifs and what couldve happen-eds. their happy ending is outside of their hands because ccdnf are atp spending more time calling each other and talking to e/o to log onto minecraft to do silly tasks. its just not enough anymore for them. it was never going to work out

okYeah sorry for essaying my bad

#hi #i hope u still love me #also will answer your next question rn I WONT TAKE AS LONG #star anons

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goremet-chef · 10 months

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guhh im so bothered rnn (vent/rant)

so... i? idk. ive been out as trans in my house since 2020. my mom doesnt call me dom (sometimes she does if my sibling encourages her to, but she defaults back to my deadname anyways) and ive learned to accept it. i dont think she ever will and its sad for me, the reality that once i start my transition, ill need to just.. leave a lot of my family behind. they think its some rebellious choice like i hate all of them but im more worried about them hating me

my mom says shes supportive but is actively right wing, shes having an inner battle with her ideologies, i know that. i can tell by how she talks about homeless people vs how she talks about us being queer

so. whatever. thats my mom i guess. but for a long time, i wasnt out to my moms husband. i despise him and ive never intentionally started a conversation with him, let alone come out. ive started to not care about what he thinks. i know what he thinks, he thinks gays should die, said it straight to my gay siblings face. okay, cool. doesnt concern me, moms bf is absolutely fucking nothing to me.

to remedy this sort of like... we didnt wanna DEAL with what he might say if he heard both my siblings calling me dom, cuz both of them do, so whenever theyre around they would just refer to my deadname, but i saw it made them cringe, so now everyone calls me 'that one child'

that one, other one, etc etc

no one even calls me my name anymore

it makes me feel so hopeless. ive EXPRESSED it makes me upset but my younger sibling doesnt care (the one most guilty of it), because they dont understand why it upsets me, i guess thats enough reason to keep going

its so dehumanizing to be reduced to actually nothing. i ALREADY have heaps and heaps and HEAPS of identity issues. sometimes it gets so bad i start having crazy ass delusions, sometimes im not even present and its a different part of my mind in my body

its hard enough as is!!! now my family wont call me anything at all

it makes me feel less bad about leaving, but i dont think ill ever leave at this rate

need to start T, change my name, get a job, all in that order. starting T seems impossible at this rate. i.. dont know what to do. i cant keep LIVING like this, because im not living at all

i never leave my house because im too ashamed in how i look, i cant BEAR the thought of anyone else perceiving me as female, i cant fucking do it!!! im so tired. my house is like a prison for me, genuinely.

and my family dont get it, obviously. they think its my choice, im some kind of hermit who doesnt care about being outside because i have internet. they are so fucking wrong. i miss going out, i miss being around people, i miss existing like everyone else, but i just cant do it man. not like this

so it becomes a waiting game, when am i gonna bring up starting it? how do i even move forward once i do? what if she says no? id have to do it on my own but i cant.. i cant even order things for myself without freezing like shutting up will get me out of there, i cant fucking do it

she doesnt even know!! we were in the car together and she was like yknow theres people who cant even make a doctors appointment. what losers.

IM losers, would she have said that if she knew? does she know and decided to say it anyways? i dont know, but its just.. everything seems so hopeless at this point. i want to just give up, accept im not gonna be who i truly am, but man i cant stand being any more miserable

it makes me wanna cry, the only time i get to feel myself how i think i should be is either if i draw something fictitious, or if i spend hours in the mirror making sure i look masculine, my mustache is convincing, etc. AND FOR WHAT? literally for fucking WHAT, because i dont leave the house anyways!!!!! dolled up like i have somewhere to be, like my appearance will get me what i want, when im stuck at home! i got nothing to prove to them, they think what they think

its fucking dreadful. im so scared of my life passing me by, and here i am wasting away in my bedroom for the last 3 years. no progress, nothing. at first, i was scared about even starting T because theres a higher risk of heart disease, but. i dont fucking care if it KILLS me. i dont care!!! if it kills me i dont fucking care im not living the life i want to live anyways. the risk of death is worth it at this point, i mean that so seriously

idk. im just tired, is all. i wish everyone could perceive me the way i dream they would. only time that happens is online, or when im not with my family at all and instead with my friends. but we only hang out like. once in a blue moon

and yknow what? im not even safe then. i remember we were at my friends house for halloween last year (we always meet up). i had my full leatherface costume one, my face was touched up to make it look like the mask. and still. dressed that way, when my friends mom asked me what my name was, i said dom and she was immediately like. "oh, dominique?" no. my name is fucking DOMINIC.

i didnt say anything besides correcting her, but it was such a blow, man. the only time ill be happy is if im closely monitoring every single thing i do, to make sure i dont appear feminine at all. no matter how i look, now matter how deep my voice is. miserable. why would anyone think that id choose this

#tw transphobia #tw dysphoria #tw queerphobia #tw misgendering

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ratgingi · 1 year

Text

some margo content because i need to figure out how to draw her more . plus some misc facts abt her under cut

i cant remember if i mentioned it before or not but she tends to change jobs often, she hasn't been fired from any but instead she will pick up jobs and quit them a few months later after she grows bored with them. the places in town she's worked at include the arcade (she worked there before exie, and exie only worked with her for a few weeks as by the time she started the job margo was already getting ready to work elsewhere), the petstore (it was her first job in town, and well before outis was in the picture), the funfair (she worked at one of the game stalls), and the mcphonalds (where she and juniper met). shes also worked at a couple places outside city limits. a good chunk of the places she's worked at are still open to her to go back to as she is a decent employee who works hard at her jobs and learns fast. there are a few places shed never even consider though either because theyd take too long to be qualified for or just seem generally uninteresting to her.

the tattoo/piercing parlor she currently works at wouldnt be a place youd get to actually visit in her route but would probably be mentioned in passing a couple times

while growing up whenever she would act too 'girly' her father would pay their neighbors to teach her more 'manly' things, so as a result she knows how to do a handful of more technical things like minor car repairs/put together furniture/etc, and also went through some fighting classes and stuff. shes also good at things like repairing clothes and cooking because addy made sure to teach her stuff like that as well

she also has a number of random talents/general things she can do from hobbies she got into and since dropped, things like crochet, gardening, baking, etc etc. she isnt Fantastic at any of them really but shes decent at them. jack of many ace of none type deal

adelaide was actually the one who helped her pick her name bc when she was trying to figure out what she wanted to be called she asked her if she had any ideas and addy told her that she'd had the name margo picked out for her before she was born

she likes doing puzzles and stuff, the bigger or more complicated the better. she has a couple 3d puzzle figures hanging out in her house but they change often as she gets bored of seeing the same ones. theres a closet in her hallway that has nothing but the boxes past puzzles she's finished stay in

she has a big heart, but because of her issues with connection she refuses to let her more caring side show in the hopes it'll help others not to get too attached to her. she isnt rude or anything like that and if someone is clearly in need of some sort of shoulder to cry on she tends to soften up but otherwise youre most likely to get a distant n cold politeness, she believes that by doing so shes doing you a favor and would rather keep herself closed off than hurt you if her whole attachment issue acts up. however if she doesnt like you she just flat out wont interact with you no matter how much you try. you could be standing in front of her waving your hands in her face and she'll act like you dont exist to the point of actually walking into you and not acknowledging it if need be

during her route the player would be able to accompany her to do things like run errands around town, which is sorta the sign that youve Made It because youre allowed to just sorta exist with her without her insisting you go do something else/trying to keep away from you yknow. her way of showing affection is pretty much just i allow you to exist near me/i choose to exist near you and on the surface literally stops there so

the only person she considers herself to be genuinely close to is her mother, and even then from a distance you wouldnt even really be able to tell that theyre close from her end. addys a pretty vocally affectionate person and is also the only person margo allows to do things like hug/pat her (addy still does so sparingly and asks before hand for the sake of margos comfort <3)

when she got her first tattoo she sorta did so in an effort to make herself commit to something but has since forgotten that motivation for them and now just likes getting them because they look cool

she has really pretty handwriting because she went through a phase where she was really into calligraphy. for technical things like letters/important papers/what have you she writes in print but otherwise she likes doing it really fancy and would probably be one of those people who writes stupid shit in fancy letters on tiktok

she has a big thing about honesty, as shes pretty good at telling when people are lying even if she doesnt really know them. this is partially why trying to lie and come up with a fake answer when asking her out would result in her turning you down bc 1. doesnt really seem interesting and 2. she can tell youre not telling her the truth and decides she has better things to do

#dialtown oc #jack dlc #hobos creations #dlc wiki #hi guys. percieve me wife

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rukafais · 11 months

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What are your thoughts on Drizfryn Oblodra? How well do you think he and Kimmuriel got along? How do you think he ranked as a weapons master against other house weapons masters?

I am sorry to disappoint you, anon, but I'm gonna give the boring answer and say I do not consider Drizfryn to be relevant or canonical, given the 4e sourcebook he comes from did not have Salvatore as a consultant or writer credit - obviously canon isn't the be all and end all of things, but I prefer to take my interpretations from the books where I can and fill in around that.

I think it also reflects poorly and uncharacteristically on K'yorl to keep around a weapons master who is actively bullying the guy who is an accomplished wizard and also makes all the weapons for the warriors of the house, I feel like she'd think it was mildly funny for a bit and then as soon as it affected Hauzafein's ability to do things she'd be like "ok, shape up or die" and then feed him to illithids if he didn't. She likes her family to be useful.

And if that didn't happen I'd be genuinely surprised if Hauzafein didn't go "oh gee I guess Drizfryn fell into the Clawrift. Shame. Should have installed some guardrails or something." or the guy mysteriously died from a magical weapon malfunction first since wizards are long-range fighters and Hauzafein is probably better at yknow. Subtlety.

That said, Kimmuriel shows active disdain for melee combatants:

“That is why there are no weapons in this room, of course. And why Jarlaxle and Gromph are just outside. Perhaps you are powerful with your bare hands—you do spend your days in close combat, fool that you are. But I am in no danger here, so please, dismiss your threats and let us both be done with this insipid exercise so that Jarlaxle will grant me my time alone.” and has ways of dealing with them effectively so like. I do not think Kimmuriel got along with him at all, I think he probably was super dismissive about him in the hypothetical scenario where he existed.

Also Drizfryn's primary skills seem to be going apeshit and beating up his older brother so I don't think he would have been very good as a trainer, which is the primary function of the weapons master.

#rukamemes

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lesbianspeedy · 1 year

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If Connor and Mia were reintroduced in GA Rebirth and had gotten a soft-reboot in their origins, what would you have liked to see?

this is a great question but im not very smart so the answer may be bad but lets give it a go. also i barely rememebr rebirth.

im glad you said soft reboot, because i think honestly their origins, especially mia's, should stay relatively the same in this scenario.

so for Connor, this makes ollie a teen dad which is already an in joke i already have with a friend, we kept asking joshua williamson if ollie was now a teen dad when connor first reappeared and he never replied to us, so sad, loser. i think if they were to have kept the retconned origin in this scenario, where-in ollie DID know about connor, it could've worked well for a reason to him abandoning them, in place of the whole "i have a higher purpose with green arrow" bullshit.

HOWEVER. i am team fuck the retcon so. connor can still find out about ollie from finding moonday's scrapbook, but this now makes him born in the 90s which i think is very funny and should therefore lead to him reading as many online forums about ollie as he can at the local library. now in n52/rebirth iirc the ashram doesnt really exist? which is hard bc like obviously buddhism and the monastery is like central to connor's character. so i'd say he still goes to one, but probably wouldn't meet ollie there.

instead for them to meet i'd say he starts to volunteer at one of ollie's many projects? and they meet there a good few number of times when ollie goes to help out. then when ollie is once again presumed dead after the whole ninth circle shado broderick stuff he becomes GA to help people while not-actually-dead ollie and co are doing all the ninth circle stuff. then when they all return theres a whole plot around their actual relation etc etc.

for Mia. completely fuck the n52 shit idc about that boohoo die. honestly i'd keep everything from her pre52 origin the same which ik feels like a cop out for this question but. its so important to her character that changing any part of it feels like a disservice to the story yknow.

however obviously the whole youth centre doesnt exist in the same way as her original story, soooo. it's harder to adjust how mia comes to live with him when he doesnt have a place to give her a job yknow. i guess mia comes in at a later point in rebirth, when ollie has that house outside the city. maybeee heee idk gives her resources that he still trusts to take care of her but also gives her his number/address in case she needs a place to crash, and she ends up there more than not, so they make the whole if u wanna stay you go to school deal again. i cant see her becoming speedy before the end of the run in this scenario.

i hope this answers ur question. i think it does. its kinda a mess tho. i do think it would've been funny for emi to come back from the titans and be like what the fuck did i miss while i was gone. why do you have other kids now.

#had to take a break halfway though this bc trying to remember the rebirth timeline of events was giving me a migraine

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sneverussape · 11 months

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all right, i'll bite :) for the 4am asks: 12, 14, 39, 87, 100. <3

answering this while a storm rages outside and i’ve yet to have my morning coffee — so this will be…idk unflinchingly honest prob.

12. Do you have the feeling you’ve lost something you might have had in another life - whether it be a person, a place, a world, a language, etc.?

when i was growing up, my parents always reminded us that, had they done something different during their past (dated another person, went to another university, etc), they would not have married each other and we would not have been born. hearing that so constantly as a kid made me have an awareness of What Could Have Been, even though what my parents were aiming for was prob a weird sense of “wow thank god you guys got married” which my brothers and i never gave them lol. i always imagine the scenarios of my parents never getting married to each other and living different lives, but also what would have happened had other decisions been made.

that sense of loss is constant when i think about these things too much - what if we had stayed in x country, what if i had gone to x school for university, what if i had said yes to this certain offer, etc. all of them would have led to a very different life than what i have now. for one thing i’d probably not have the job i have now (a field and institution i never in a million years would have thought i’d be in as a kid), and i’d probably be living elsewhere (likely the US). even staying together with a former partner would have led to a different outcome - i’d probably have kids, live in california, and have a different career/life trajectory. i’m not unhappy with the state of my life rn though, and i think this is the scenario i’d have chosen anyway had i been given the option. the grief maybe comes from the loss of deeper relationships i could have had. i miss the people i’ve had to say goodbye to and are no longer in touch with for one reason or another. i like to imagine that in other universes these other scenarios exist and we’re still having the time of our lives.

14. Would you want to be reincarnated?

no. :)) i want the end to be the end, yknow? whether there’s Beyond or Nothing i want it to be that already. no more repeats, i’m tiredt.

39. Do you know what you want out of life?

whenever people ask me this question, it always reminds me of that scene in What’s Eating Gilbert Grape when gilbert gets asked what he wants for himself, and gilbert says “i want to be a good person”. i watched this as a kid and it really stuck with me. it seems like such a simple thing to be but it’s not. i can’t control most things; i can only really control myself. what i want out of life is just me putting some good out to the world as much as possible, and making conscious decisions that would help rather than harm, even if it’s just for a single person. yesterday my friend was having a hard time but couldn’t leave the house because she had to meet a deadline. i bought her a boba tea and had it delivered to her house as a snack. it was expensive and honestly something she could have done herself but i figured it’d be a nice gesture and one thing to make her day less shitty. i want a kinder world. i try to put out what i want the universe to give back in spades to others. idk that’s all anyone probably really wants at the core of it all, right?

87. Do you anger easily?

yes. my mom has really bad anger issues (likely due to her own childhood as a military brat and being 7 out of 9 kids) and it’s a response i learned to emulate from a fairly young age. i learned to get better control of it as i went through school, copying how my peers and older mentors acted. i think i was always very self-aware, although i don’t know how i was trained to be that way, and i knew anger wasn’t the right response. i’d be seething internally but act controlled on the outside, because i knew that was how to get what i wanted/needed. i’ve mastered it at this point except when it comes to certain people who really trigger a specific response, like my brothers. mannn, the fights we get into. 🙃 i’m slow to outward anger (inside, im always angry with one thing or another lol) with colleagues and friends but when it gets to boiling point, i can be pretty vicious with words. this is also why i prefer keeping it under control because i don’t like the feeling of regret that comes when you say something you didn’t really mean, or something you did mean but know you shouldn’t have said out loud. this is also the reason my sister said she could never be friends with me if we weren’t siblings since i’m far more ruthless than what she can stand. i know that! i accept it. 🥲 i’m working on it.

100. What belief do you have that isn’t logically grounded, but you still firmly believe in?

hmm. idk really. even my belief of god gets challenged from time to time. probably the one thing i strive to keep believing in despite parts of me also accepting its impossibility, is how people aren’t really gone after death and there’s still a chance to see each other again someday. it’s a necessary coping mechanism for me, and though i equally accept that it can be untrue, i’d rather believe it is. i’d miss people too much if i didn’t, and i don’t think i can bear losing them so permanently. the heartache is too much.

anyway thank you @greens-your-color for the asks! sorry if it got morose. it’s the lack of coffee. 😪

have a good weekend!

#ask game

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transgenderer · 2 years

Text

i can never decide how apologetic, in the religious sense, i want to be for the modern world. i think for the last ~5 years ive been trending more apologetic. but this makes me feel uncomfortable, cruel sometimes. except obviously i dont think the modern world is *optimal*, its subtler than that. its more like, the ways the organization of the modern world is suboptimal, its mostly not because its benefiting a handful, or like the world-equivalent of a handful, some 0.1%, over the rest of the world. its mostly because its benefiting some large group, if not the majority than a significant minority, in such a way that the cost/benefit tradeoff for the whole population is bad OR a better way is possible but not taken less so for dastardly reasons and moreso because changing systems is difficult and costly.

so like for example the way housing works in the US is bad, and i think it would be better on net if housing wasnt an investment, if there was not an expectation house value would always rise, if there was way more construction, etc, but the current order benefits homeowners, who *are* a majority of the population. of course this isnt always true. i think the massive underuse of nuclear power is just straightforwardly suboptimal in a way that doesnt benefit a significant population (i mean, it SORT OF benefits fossil fuel workers, but 1) theyre <1% of the pop, and 2) i think they would be better off in the long run).

or like, for example the senate sucks and is dumb and like a gardener from outside the system coming down and creating the Republic wouldnt include it, but also like shitty compromises between existing power structure is what new governments ARE, theres sort of a realpolitik sense in which the real sin of the senate is not actually representing power accurately, thus creating a drive for violent reorganization of the system, in the model where the virture of democracy is approximately representing real power such that you dont need a war to figure out who would win in material conflict, you can just take a vote to get a barometer

anyway so like an example where i feel conflicted is the financial indsutry. how much is the financial industry like, doing something, helping to distribute resources optimally, and how much is it pure economic parasitism. the apologetics side of me wants to get a bit chestertons fencey, say its probably serving some role, and while it might not be optimal we should be slow to assume its total or significantly parasitism. but i think a total reflexive urge to defend the modern world is obviously going to lead to some defending of ghoulishness. and like, im in an economic/social position that i benefit from a lot of modern ghoulishness! so yknow. that makes me doubt my own judgement. but i also feel like...when someone points out "this is suboptimal" im usually pretty convinced, but when they say "this modification would make it better" im usually pretty unconvinced. not always, but often enough that i feel like theres some meaningful sense we're at like...not a local maximum, but something sort of LIKE a local maximum? like if youre imagining the current organization of society as some point in a very high dimensional space, and you take the gradient of the "goodness" function of society at that point, its gonna be close to 0 in most axes yknow? idk, maybe thats a stupid mathy way to think of it. but im trying to get across a sort of "difficult to locally maximize" property

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