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wosoluver · 1 month

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To undo a mistake

Part 4/17 - previous - next

Lena x Bayern player!reader, Ana Guzmán x Bayern player!reader

That therapy session was... something. To say the least. Your eyes puffy once again.

We didn't talk much. I practically just dumped all my problems to her. But it felt good to get everything out, to someone who wouldn't judge you but also wasn't allowed to give too much of her opinion.

When you walked out, Ana wasn't there yet. So you just decided to sit and wait.

It took her around 10 minutes to show up.

"Hey. Have I made you wait for too long?"

"No, not at all. So do you want to go get some coffee? I'm out of practice today and you probably don't have many friends here yet."

"Your the one that looks like you could use a friend. Let's go. You drive, I don't have my license yet."

"First of all, ouch. Second of all, let's go. You'll be my passenger princess." - You said it excited.

Lena never really let you drive, you were always the passenger princess.

And you quickly tried to wisk the memory away.

You were both in comfortable silence in the car. Only the sound of Ana's music playing in the back. And yes you were forced to give her the rights to dj. Passenger princess' rule number 1.

You stop at your favorite place. It was never too crowded, which you were thankful for.

"I'll go order, what do you want?"

"Whatever your having, is fine."

After ordering and getting your coffees you go sit on a quiet corner.

"So, how are you adapting to Germany?"

"Oof- it's so fucking cold here. Not even in the coldest winters we get this temperature in Colombia."

"You'll get used to it after some time. A few jackets and coats and you're good."

"And you? Had a nice time in therapy?"

"Oh yeah. So much fun!" - you answered equally as ironic.

"I can tell by your puffy eyes.

I think today was my first time not crying in there."

"Must be hard. I've never had a bad injury. But it seems like the worse. Lena went through-" - you cut yourself off before you could say anything else. Your face dropped. Here you were again. Everything you think of, brought up Lena, one way or another.

"And Lena is-"

"My ex. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking when I said that."

"It's fine. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." - but then you proceeded to dump everything that had happened into the conversation. - "It's just, my head is still trying to wrap around everything. She already has a new girlfriend. And I'm still dealing with my feelings.

She broke up with me, over the phone can you believe that? I never felt so meaningless, so betrayed. Our five month relationship thrown into the trash. All of that, because Munich is too far from Wolfsburg for her taste."

"Wow, you had a lot to say for someone that didn't want to talk about it." - she said that hoping it would easy the anxious face you had going on. - "It's okay. Time works differently for different people. You have the right to mourn your relationship.

Is that what has been driving you down?"

"Yeah, I just wasn't ready to see her. I'm still in love with her. I mean was. After what happened Saturday, I think it might be time to except it's over."

"You still had feelings for her? Even after what she did?"

"Yeah. I guess I was just hopeful. I felt like in some way things weren't over yet. I just- It just didn't make sense. Lena is not that type of person. She would never do that."

"But she did. Look, if she meant to hurt you or not, you'll probably never know. Unless you talk to her."

"I am not going to talk to her."

"Then you'll have to settle for the unknown."

"I think I will. Can we talk about your feelings now? I've humiliated my self enough."

"Fine. You were right when you said I needed friends." - she let out a deep breath. - "When I first got injured. I was very hard on myself. Specially after hearing the diagnosis and that I'd have to go under surgery. I stressed my self over when I shouldn't have.

I pushed everyone away.

The hardest thing, when we are hurting, is to remember others are most likely going through something too."

"But that's kind of natural I guess. To be so into your own head you forget about others. It's just- there is such a thin line between being compassionate towards people and putting their needs and feelings before yours. To be honest I've never been good at navigating though it either."

"Yeah, I've been getting better about it I think. Therapy has helped me understand a lot of things. The most important of them, I think it was acceptance.

I feel so much better since I accepted that I have no control over this type of things. I couldn't change it even if I wanted to. I just have to go through it. And soon enough I'll be back playing once again."

"It's good to know your coming out better from this one. Sometimes things happen for a reason, and sometimes it's for the better"

"It's getting late, we should get going."

"Yeah. I'll give you a ride home."

For the rest of the day all you could think about was what you two had talked about.

Maybe you could use some acceptance yourself. Of how things were, and not what you think they should be.

And stop worrying so much about what you had no control over.

That's how it works when you live right? Life happens.

Have you guys been wondering what's been like for Lena? Well next chapter is Lena's pov!

It's still an Obi fic I swear.

I think from this chapter on, it's finally going to be good writing. I wasn't liking how things the previous parts came out.

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf x reader #lena oberdorf #vfl wolfsburg frauen #fc bayern frauen

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ohtobemare · 6 months

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✨ to anyone who bothers to read my stuffs✨

this is just a little update to tell you—i’m going through some stuff. some writer-person things. been actively struggling with this for a few months, now, which is why writing updates from me have all but dropped off.

writer’s sometimes go through this transition phase of where we’re in our lane for a hot minute but then we hit a brick wall. like, full force, ram-that-f14-right-into-the-wall kinda brick wall. i, personally, sometimes loose the plot and get into this groove where when I sit down to write, it doesn’t feel like me. it feels claustrophobic or plain, messy and just not right. like clothes that “work” but aren’t “it,” that make you just the slightest bit uncomfortable and you think you can deal with it, but in reality, it’s just going to bother you all day and sit right in the forefront of your headspace.

that’s where i am, right now, with writing.

for a couple of weeks i’ve been so caught up in trying to sound and write like everyone else that i’ve kinda just…lost the plot. i’ve been pulling at this shirt in all its troublesome places and it still just doesn’t fit right. something is off, and i’m gonna get to the bottom of it. i think i just need to sit down, re-read some of the stuff i was definitely confident in, and clear my headspace on the blank page and just…write.

there’s so much pressure to perform and please and rack up the numbers on top of everything else i’m currently dealing with in my headspace that writing has become, well—it’s felt like a chore. a fight. like i’m Maverick dogfighting a gen 5, out of ammo and out of options. it’s hard and it hurts; is ugly and making me second guess myself in ways that I haven’t in a long time. i don’t like it, want it to go away, and i’m gonna figure it out.

that said, i think i’m going to pull my latest Val piece that I started because while it’s workable, it isn’t up to my standard. yeah, sure, some people have feral-reblogged it and commented, and i am insatiably grateful for that, but it’s a personal thing. if i am not smiling-proud of it and being like, “wow, can’t believe i wrote that!” then it isn’t it, fam. maybe it’s a me thing, perhaps others get it. regardless, i want to work at it more, and make it really shine.

which brings me to a piece i most definitely want to dive back into: abstracts. my beautiful love letter to Val himself; i as a personal thing, absolutely need to finish this story. it’s been crawling around my head for God knows how long and at mach 10, so it needs to get out on paper. i have so much i want to accomplish with Ice and his art girlie, that it just needs to happen. if i can get back in my lane.

this is a whole ‘lotta rambling to let you know i’m in a funk. and if you’ve made it this far, thank you for bearing with me. almost 400 followers in this space is wild and unheard of, i can barely believe it. i really wanna get this dialed in so i can do something special for my 400 followers celebration that will inevitably come down the pike.

anyway, ya’ll are beautiful, sorry for being such a crash and burning writer-girl mess.

xoxoxo,

mare

#mare writes things #mare rambles #writing update #i'll figure it out #val kilmer #writblr #writing things #writing is hard #on writing #writer community #writer things #writer problems

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spookymultimedia · 4 months

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Oneshot to go along with it below

Word count: 727

CW: withdrawal, addiction, self harm, underage drinking [they're 13]

Stan was seated on the back porch of Henrietta's house and looked down at his trembling hands. He was going cold turkey for Kyle but ever since he cut off drinking he felt sick. He got headaches, he felt worse, he wanted to die. He needed some alcohol just to get the edge off and feel better. He didn't want to upset Kyle but it was so hard to quit. He turned at the sound of the sliding door. It was Henrietta standing there with a bottle in her hand. He couldn't help but perk up and the thought of her having alcohol.

She sat next to him and sipped the bottle of white wine.

He looked at her wide eyed.

“My Mom already drank half of it. I'm not addicted or anything. Not yet anyway.” She laughed at herself. She held out the bottle and offered it to Stan.

He took the bottle immediately and gulped it. It wasn't as strong as whisky but it was better than nothing. He drank it like it was water. He started to breathe better once the alcohol buzz settled into his alcohol-dependent body. Tears filled his eyes.

“kyle's gonna fucking kill me.”

“Why?”

“He hates that I drink.”

“He knows you have an addiction right?”

“Yeah of course.”

“He sounds like a total dick.”

“He just cares about me.”

“If he actually gave a fuck he would care about you going through withdrawal.”

He hiccupped and wiped his eyes.

“You're not the only kid with addictions you know, you're not alone.” She raised her arm and showed her scars from cutting herself.

Stan glanced at her.

“How do your friends feel about it?”

“They understand. They were scared at first but then they bought me cleaner shit to use and proper bandages so my scars won't get infected.”

Stan furrowed his eyebrows, “but, isn't that just encouraging it?”

“No, they're just creating a safer way for me to cut. It's harm reduction. It's not always possible to just drop out of an addiction immediately so might as well do it safer rather than privately with a dirty pencil sharpener.”

“I guess that's a good point.” He took another sip if wine.

“My friends aren't like yours. I can't always talk about everything with them.”

“Hmm.”

“Henrietta?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you cut because you're fat?”

“What!? No!! Why would you say that!?”

Stan flinched, “I donno, I'm sorry.”

“I don't have a fucking problem with my body, society just hates fat people!! I think I look fucking awesome but people see me and assume the fucking worst! It pisses me off!!”

Henrietta took a deep breath and clenched her fists.

“No it's because I just- I get so sad that I feel like nothing. And I just can't seem to wake up from it without cutting myself. It makes me feel alive. I'd rather hurt than sit in the dark abyss of nothingness in my soul. It's so boring doing nothing and feeling like shit. I need to fucking express how I feel or I'm gonna scream.”

“Yeah, I get it. I- I got pressured into drinking because I just needed an escape somehow and that's what they suggested to me and-” he hiccupped “I didn't mean to.”

Henrietta placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I know you didn't.”

“It's kinda fucked up but it’s beautiful I think. Sometimes I take pictures of my wrists because I think it's pretty. With the blood and all. That's fucked up isn't?”

“A little yeah. I can't remember the last time I didn't feel like shit. It's been nearly a year. I don't know when it's gonna stop.”

Henrietta nodded.

“It's weird. I start to feel okay again for a while, I feel really really good, or just get pissy again but I'm passionate and I'm not numb. But then it just comes back full force and I go back to feeling nothing. It drives me insane. I think I'm going insane. These emotions are normal. At least I don't enjoy them. Even when I do feel passionate, it's too much and I can't sleep. Like, at all.”

“Wow.”

“It's a lot. Point is, you're sick and you need to just embrace that and treat yourself more kindly. And if Kyle gets pissy about it I'll punch him in the nuts.”

Stan smiled.

“Okay.”

#south park #south park fanart #south park fanfiction #stan marsh #henrietta biggle #its meant to be read as platonic but if you ship them thats cool #Spotify

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heckinconfusedparade · 1 year

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Hey, I just had an awesome idea that you haven't done yet, which is surprising but why not have movie Sonic Meet the Big Man himself, modern Sonic, and his friends, and have modern talk about his adventures, since technically speaking even classic sonic is basically modern sonics younger years I'd bet movie sonic would be just amazed by everything this version of him has done same goes for movie tails and knuckles with their counterparts. Also, for a bit less confusion, this is before the tails squad was official.

First off, Modern nickname time!

Sonic- Glitch (based off his most recent adventure!)

Second, the other two bros will be involved in a cross over some other day.

. . .

Tails has been studying a long time on universal travel. Different planets? Ok. Time travel? That’s possible. But entirely different universes is beyond what he’s accomplished before.

Tails is a little stressed since he’s behind on his work due to his.. recent adventure in cyberspace. But after he got some rest, he was back in business. He wanted to complete some stuff before going off on his own for the first time.

He is prepared to open a portal between worlds!

The portal takes on the shape of a golden ring. A figure appears through the portal. A small blue hedgehog is sent through. The portal behind him flickers away, and a whole series of weaponry points at him. The hedgehog puts his little blue arms up in surrender, taking in his surroundings.

Tails cheers “wahoo!! I did it!- oh- sorry.” He presses a few buttons and the weapons are put away “just some security measures in case my curiosity came to kill me. Anyway! You’re another Sonic! This is so neat!”

Sonic steps off the platform “another Sonic? Did I get transported to another universe again?”

“Again??”

“Yea. I’ve been like, 2 other places. Met another me who was really tall and had a scarf. He was nice! So uh.. where am I?”

Tails escorts Sonic outside “welcome to Green Hills!” Sonic looks around and his face drops a little “it reminds me of… where I’m from. Before I had to hide on Earth. I lost my guardian.”

Tails frowns “I’m sorry to hear that, Sonic.”

They go back inside and sit down on the couch. Tails provides some drinks for the two of them. “Where’s your Sonic?” Sonic asks taking a sip out of his glass. “Oh he’s getting a very much needed rest. He spent days in cyberspace battling cybercorruption. He got so caught up in saving us from limbo that he didn’t stop to rest. By the time he found me, he had already been corrupted to the point he couldn’t walk or stand very well.. it was scary. I couldn’t do anything. I was so worried about him.. we all were.”

Sonic listens carefully to Tails’ story. He makes a mental promise to himself to take care of himself at all times. Can’t worry the others! He leans back into his seat “looks like me getting into deadly situations is a universal thing. Eggman got ahold of the master emerald and nearly crushed me n my parents.”

“Y-you have parents?” Tails is shocked to hear this. “I do! After I was forced to reveal myself after 10 years of on earth, I bonded with a human I called the Donut Lord! Then he and his wife Pretzel Lady took me in and adopted me. They took in my Tails and Knuckles as well, and now we’re brothers!” Sonic smiles fondly thinking of his family back home. Tails is happy to hear that Sonic did end up finding a home.

Suddenly, Glitch appears. He yawns and heads to the fridge. He glances at the other two, then has a double take. “Uh. Tails? Who’s our.. visitor?”

Sonic waves enthusiastically. Tails grins “I’ve been working on universal travel! And it worked!” Glitch makes a “hm!” Sound and grabs himself some water. He then plonks himself down on the couch next to Tails. He looks at Sonic.. and wow this guy is tiny.

“You’re short.” He says. Sonics mouth opens a little in disbelief. Glitch chuckles a little, and Tails sighs. This is going to be a loooong day.

Sonic decides he is going to be the bigger person here and start a meaningful conversation “I hope you know that Tails messing with the multiverse is universal.”

“It is??” Glitch is not surprised really, he should have known. Nobody can stop the curiosity of a genius mind! Sonic goes “Mhm yea. One time me, Tails, and Knuckles were all minding our business having a nice friendly discussion, and then suddenly we’re in a wooden workshop with another Tails WHO WAS TALLER THAN ME BY THE WAY, who decided that he was apparently going to once again risk the destruction of the universe. THEN HE TAUGHT MY TAILS WHO DECIDED HE WANTED TO DO IT TOO, so guess what? He took it upon himself to just dip to another universe blindly, without telling anyone, leaving Knuckles and I freaking out because if we don’t find this kid soon, our parents might actually kill us.”

The more Sonic says, the more Glitch was actually surprised. Then came the parents part, and Glitch is like “you have parents??” And Sonics like “yea I got adopted by a nice human couple who also took in Tails and Knuckles.”

At some point, Glitch gets to tell Sonic the tales of his many adventures, each one bringing the little hoglet to the edge of his seat. He’s got stars in his eyes. Sonic really really wants to be a hero like that someday. Tails has got the same expression and idea. Sonic wants to bring his brothers here one day and explore!

Sonic also gets to tell his story. He tells it in a very dramatic and expressive way like he had been practicing in the mirror for months. The crowd favourite was, as usual, Tails hitting Knuckles with a car.

Sonic then goes “…I just realized how long I’ve been gone. I think I may have missed dinner.”

And with that, he is sent home to his very upset family. Sonic explains everything, and guess what? They believe him, because this has happened before and will probably happen again.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedghog movie #miles tails prower #movie sonic #sonic wachowski

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captain-astors · 1 year

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Can you do Kaneki for 003 :)))

Mhm! That beautiful mess, the culmination of all I despise but the vessel through which we all must perceive this world. I’d like to shake him like a maraca. This one definitely contains… opinions. As usual it's messy and ramble-ish but I enjoyed it.

How I feel about this character: Wow you're so interesting I wish I could still care after 320 something chapters. Born to “slay” as the youth say, in all meanings of the word, forced to do math. Sometimes I imagine what sound he would make if smacked against a wall. Constantly, actually. I can effectively emulate it with an almost empty water bottle, a thin piece of fabric, a piece of metal, and a slab of gelatin, but I only have access to two of those and it’s not the ones you think. I cannot stress how much I want post-Haise Kaneki dead for plot reasons, but I do think he’s pretty neat before whatever the result of the Tsukiyama extermination arc is. I do like him, but I try not to ponder him too deeply because if I started getting seriously attached to him as a person, I’d have to be disappointed about his character as well. I’m already not normal about so many of them. So he’s more of a secondhand skrunkle, I watch a decent portion of the rest of the fandom go wild and sit back and tend to my own neglected favorites. Like observing a neighbor’s garden, larger than mine but wilder, containing so many varieties of plants I can no longer distinguish them, and perhaps a bit overgrown. Was he the first piece of Tokyo Ghoul art I ever drew? Yes- well no actually that was probably Nishiki or Shuu but I never posted those because they were just sketches, but he was the first that I posted, and kind of my gateway to deciding to let myself brainrot over TG without shame (mostly). So I owe some amount of gratitude to him.

But at the same time he fills me with a deep sadness for what might’ve been. Tokyo Ghoul was praised for having some kind of ground-breaking protagonist but he just feels... edgy at the end of it, handed an undeserved win. Sorry.

(So an update from later this very same day, I drew him and now I want to hug him. NO. I MUST PERSEVERE. Alright Kuroneki is kind of cute and his nickname sounds like Kuroneko (As in the trigun cat) and I love Kuroneko.)

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Protagonists are funny things to ship because they can be shipped with almost anyone. Almost the entire main cast? Been there and done that. Every character he’s been friends with? Certainly. Rivals? No rivalry is complete without a little homoeroticism. The villain? Is that even a question. That random character who appeared for half a chapter? Someone’s probably done it. It’s difficult to pick a favorite but frankly I’m not particularly partial to any of them. Shuuneki is fun but it just feels out of character as soon as it becomes remotely healthy which is what all that pining causes me to intrinsically want which in turn annoys me so… I enjoyed it before I actually learned the story. Now I just can’t fathom truly enjoying a fic about them without leaving frustrated because at any given point, one or the other of them just wouldn’t work. Also I really want Kaneki to die alone. But though I’ll never be extremely passionate about it, I do think that Hidekane is kind of the best one. Like it’s not my ship but from an outsider's perspective I look at it and just go huh. Neat. This one actually seems non-headache inducing. I’m slowly consuming more of it but at the same time Hide deserves much better. I can’t fix you but I can hold your hand as you crumble or something. I will take this time to rant about Tou//ken. God help us all. I will start off with what I like because I am terrified of being burned at the stake by the shippers who actually read through this for some reason. Aesthetically, cool. As individuals, love them. Conceptually, it had great potential. I don’t think it ever could’ve been my otp but I could’ve enjoyed this. Now. DEAR GOD I HONESTLY ADMIRE THOSE WHO SHIP IT FOR EITHER HAVING THE IGNORANCE OR SHEER WILLPOWER TO ENJOY IT DESPITE THAT WRITING. It would be easier to ship two characters who we’ve never seen interact whatsoever (stares at my terrible rarepairs I would know) than to repair this trainwreck, so I suppose that’s a testament to your tenacity or your willingness to ignore the holes. I swear my copy of TG was missing chapters WHERE was their development. They only did things for each other when instructed to or in life or death situations when opposed by a greater threat, only thought fondly of each other when not together, and then got married and kids despite Kaneki being in a mental state nowhere near “intact enough to live a functional existence” must less raise CHILDREN. Like I refuse to believe Kaneki would be a great father. “Something, something breaking the cycle of a loveless life.” Where. Where did he learn to love healthily? Touka? Where? Where is that shown? They interact so briefly in such high-stress scenarios how the HELL am I supposed to know?

Dear god I knew these two were going to get together. I steeled myself for it. I tried to enjoy it I swear I did but it feels like the marriage arc skipped the love arc and I don’t know how I’m supposed to appreciate the shell of a relationship left behind. But I respect those who manage. Like, if a character (Ayato) can go on a brief trip and come back UNDER A FEW DAYS LATER to find out, with absolutely no warning that his SIBLING is married to a guy now, maybe you’re moving just a little fast! Someone please explain this to me I feel like I'm losing my mind.

The Vegas wedding of Tokyo Ghoul, getting hitched in a cave while a homophobic gay horror creature exterminates 98% of your kind.

Also I find it funny that she managed to date a guy who both looks and acts so much like her dad. Touka you can do so much better you are leagues above this guy.

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: If Haise is included, Akira and the Quinxes. Family. If Haise is not included, probably… Hinami.

My unpopular opinion about this character: Oh boy. He doesn’t really listen to anyone, and his cycle of self sacrifice for others because it’s the easiest route out is ANNOYING AS HELL. Points are made about it, but does he ever change? No he just keeps trying to die for “the sake of others” until the very end and keeps escaping the actual consequences, while others who have something to live for ACTUALLY DIE for his stupid martyr complex and I am SICK OF IT. He only fights for those he cares about because he’s afraid of being alone which is a very human desire but we never see him grow in it, he just keeps ignoring whatever he doesn’t want to hear, keeps letting himself almost die but he’s still “virtuous” and not a murderer to the narrative. Because the restaurant ghouls dared to have fun with the terrible cards they were dealt, so they deserved it! Because those humans in the dragon incident didn’t care, so they deserved it! And besides he wasn’t conscious anyways! Because Furuta dared to try to break the system that Kaneki decided wasn’t real, because he wanted to make sure the world never created a child like him again, so he deserved it! I could deal with him if the narrative actually treated him like what he is, “morally grey” is not an excuse to his actions it’s a byproduct, so just saying “it’s alright because he’s morally grey” doesn’t fix any of the issues with his inconsistencies! With his lack of growth beyond just getting worse, and being handed a happy ending anyways! Also why are all of his stans silent as the grave I hear barely a WHISPER out of you creatures yet you appear like phantoms to salivate over him when art is made and to sweep polls. I know perhaps 3 people who both actively post and I know for a fact would declare Kaneki their favorite. Where are the rest of you? WHERE ARE YOU HIDING? But godspeed to you.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: He feels so overwritten at the end, I really wish he either died, or that :re had gone the csm route and had a different protagonist. For our candidates for a new protagonist I would nominate: Hide. An exploration of a character who was born into a world that was hurting him, but chose to love ghouls anyways. Who chose to keep being a good person no matter how hard it was, (WHAT KANEKI DOES, DOES NOT COUNT AS BEING A “GOOD PERSON.”) He’d be a refreshing air of positivity and hope from Kaneki’s internal monologue. It’s so desolate it makes me want to commit amusing vandalism just to remember that bright colors are real and very lovely. I don’t have the energy to write out full explanations for all of them but I’d also nominate any of the Quinx squad members, Juuzou (I just want more Hanbee), Ayato, Amon, or Furuta. Or making Haise a person with a separate body.

Favorite friendship for this character: If Haise counts Juuzou, if not Banjou or Ayato.

My crossover ship: I’m tempted to say knives as a joke because they have the same english voice actor, (Who does a fantastic job as both but MAN his voice goes deep in tristamp.) Anyways Vash I guess. Go be self-sacrificial together you fools. (affectionate connotation for one, indifferent for the other.)

#miscellaneous not art things #tokyo ghoul #ken kaneki #still doing those it just took me a bit to continue #zeph answers questions about media/characters/ships

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paulcatania · 8 months

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HOLY FUCKING SHIT, TUMBLR?!?!?!

Dear Tumblr, I am so sorry for everything. Really. I am part of the problem.

First off, I am sorry for the #PornVibesStrong moment that Twitter ROBBED you of during and prior to the Trump Administration (and who knows, perhaps now). Didn't Trump shut you down? Something happened. I can't remember. But I know that wow, what a time. This time however? This is another time. A time which feels like no time or space are we existing. Just maybe. If anyone can understand what that means of feels like to think or say. The post Covid existence being this constant alternate universe, time warp fuckery I can't quite seem to pinpoint with a term defining. Listening to "Head Over Heels" right now by Tears For Fears feels appropriate. It just has that sound to it ya know. Especially when it shows up in Donnie Darko. OMG. DOES NOT THE POST COVID WORLD FEEL LIKE DONNIE DARKO???? I know this much. Wait hold on..... Ok I had to go and quickly skim the lyrics to that song as final line of the song played... "Funny how time flies....". It really is all connected.

I haven't written in forever. Not like this. Not through the vessel that is you dearest Tumblr. I have abandoned my original venting/creative space-preferred via the digital realm. It's all beyond a bit much; to say the least. As of this exact moment, trying to rid myself of the physical foot print being my last four years. A mental health decline in late 2018 where life didn't seem one worth living, yet still trucking through creative projects and feeling connected to "the muses" whoever they are. Entities undisclosed, yet carrying me. An overpowering of dark forces bringing me to feelings of wanting to simply NOT EXIST. I wouldn't say I was suicidal, but how many steps can we possibly be before thoughts turn transcend actions. So I kind of acquired an art gallery of my friends in the earlier months of 2019 which then turns into my quite literally manifested 2nd Hand Shop which I simply called "Paul's Closet". In this post Covid world I am left with what seems to be endless items now making up my brand name switch to a less than desireable to some "2nd Hand HoE". I know right. Who doesn't want to shop there?

2nd Hand HoE is a less than acceptably managed resale shop out of my office space in my hometown of Gloucester, MA. Yup. This is where I'm at. I mean it's not THAT bad. I'm working the sidewalk/vestibule/stairwell which leads to a second-level office building consisting of office space for commercial use. It's been a long and wild 3 years being back and forth between here and my apartment in Peabody just about 15 miles away. A shared space with my ex partner. The poor dude. Sorry Alex. Haha. Yeah, No. It was a great 3 years. A wild learning experience with a friend unlike any I'd ever had. Relationships can be intense. Cohabited relationships even more so if not the right time and place. And space. Hold this space my dear lover. Ugh I'm gonna shart my jorts. Honestly. I'm so lost. Like what am I doing. WAIT, I know....... DUH. I'm reintroducing myself into the strong relationship I once had with the Tumbz. I see you Tumbzi, and I know you see #metoo.

Anyhoozers, I was all up in my feelitos, and I don't even know what the fuck made me think of it but I was like, what should I do? Just sit here anal cav deep in my iPhone swiping between apps slash doom scrolling and being envious of others' shit???? NO. Ufck That dumb stuff. I need to recreate my life. Will I this time? Well, hope the fuck so. The universe will always work out the shit it needs to but I would like to be a little bit of a commander in this simulation as well. I mean that's only fair right? Most would say so. I have discipline issues. I'm afraid to take chances. I'm afraid of what everyone thinks of me. It's ridiculous. I hate the internet, and all these things I hate and am afraid of are the things I'm supposed to connect to and through to be anything worth anything in a capitalist world right? I don't even know what I'm saying right now. I just know that I need to speak or type or write or whatever the fahhhhhk is on my mind or else the wheels will turn and spin right off the track. Or shall we say, Tumbl off course.

of course.

#blogger life #pocketania #pauls closet #writer #therapy #resaleshop #resale shop #second hand #2nd hand #entrepreneur #mental patient #the hustle is real

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jennaissantes · 2 years

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𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ

!@# heeseung: will giggle. so cutely. the moment you go sit on his lap and grab his face, you’ll give him a 🥺 look bc he’s adorable. and then you’ll squish face and his lips squish together into a pout and its so adorable that you cant help but squeal and give him small pecks all over his face. HE WILL COMBUST THEN AND THERE. because your kisses are so soft and u sound so cute just murmuring all these sweet compliments to him and he’s just so in love with you and im basically making myself cry right now. hee is so soft for u and he is absolutely in love with you 🥺

!@# jay: no bc hear me out. he will sit there, and just 🥺🥰😍 bc he loves u sm. when you kiss him, he will probably make the kiss longer bc he loves your kisses. he will literally let you do as you wish because there’s no stopping you. youre smothering his face in kisses? okay he’ll wait until youre done and then do the same to you. you shower him in compliments? he does the same but tenfold. yeah uh idk if ive mentioned this but uh. he loves u. oh yeah i have mentioned it. but guess what? im gonna say it again, hes just absolutely in love with you <3

!@# jake: he’s just so 🥺. will do the same to you. if youre feeling all soft for him, guess what, he’s ALWAYS feeling soft for you. [uno reverse card once again] you see the picture in the middle of the header? yeah thats him alright. 24/7 loves kisses from you. if he’s stressed and you just go and sit on his lap and give him small soft kisses on his cheeks and lips, im telling you he will melt into your arms then and there. there’s no saying it otherwise. and then when you put your hands through his hair and straighten out the strands, he will actually just, oh i dont even know he’s so in love with you i cannot put it into words [bc i am jealous of you]

!@# sunghoon: he will, probably freeze, for a sec. like hoon you good my man? no he aint good. fuck he isnt even ok. you know why? because youre currently pressing kisses to his face. on his forehead, on his cheeks, on his nose, on the corner of his lips, and a few on his lips too. how is he not supposed to.. yknow. 🥺. after you finish, he will thank you, from the bottom of his heart. because you dont know, maybe he had a bad day, and he really needed your compliments and kisses. maybe he wasnt feeling his best. but it was all okay now, because you were there <3

!@# sunoo: pink babie. he will blush, so hard. like. so so so hard. and he’ll giggle in the cutest way possible. after youre done with being soft for him [which you are never done with but lets just say you stopped for a second there to take a breath, and he interrupts you before you can continue] he whispers against your lips, “i love you so much, you dont even know.” and other things like “how did i get so lucky with you” [mf you should be asking that to him. but like he’s lucky to have u too. bc ur so wow.] and he’ll whisper sweet sweet things to you in between kisses too aww :(

!@# jungwon: he’ll try to act like he’s okay, but the smile forcing its way onto his face says otherwise. he’ll probably whine because you’re making him soft for you in ways he’d never have imagined. like, he’s whipped to the point that he cannot even look at something without getting reminded of you. he’s thinking of you 25/8. and when you sit next to him or on his lap, and press kisses to his cheeks and lips, he will give in. just like that. probably wont know what hit him. but he’s just so ☹️ cute ☹️. he’ll stop you in between and give you a very long and cute and soft kiss [ i am sobbing into my palms atm ] and then whisper against your lips”i love you so much y/n. youre the bestest”

@# ni-ki: this mf. 💀he will. tell you to stop. like youre literally drowning him in compliments and kisses because you were so proud of him because he’d done so well, despite him thinking that he hadn’t done well. and he tells you to stop. and then youre kinda sad. like you think that maybe he wanted to be left alone and you were being annoying. so you let him go. he goes into his room and youre just sitting there on the sofa like :( but then he comes out five minutes later, with his favourite plushie cushion and he plops onto your lap, gives you puppy eyes and goes “can i please have those kisses and maybe some cuddles too” and why would you not give it to him? <3 i feel like riki just really wants some reassurance that hes doing well so he was really grateful for what you were doing. he was sobbing a bit inside the room because he didn’t think he deserved you but u dont have to know that :( he loves you so much please take care of him :( [wow that was long]

©iwonzzi 2022

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parks-and-get-wrekt · 3 years

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The Robins (plus Duke) as moments from the try guys episode where they get kidnapped

(The last one of these did pretty well and I have more to share so)

Kidnappers: where’s your phone?

Dick: it dropped outside

Kidnappers: why’s it outside? Why’s it not on you?

Dick: I don’t like the way it makes my pants look

Duke: what’s being kidnapped usually like? Is it like an escape room?

Jason: it’s more like a bdsm room

Dick: Oo-Kay

Tim: I was afraid of being kidnapped as a kid. And there was this one nightmare I remember, where the kidnappers got to me and I just started screaming “I love you”

Dick: the royal family have to get trained for live kidnapping situations. Meghan Markle had to go through a kidnapping scenario like we did today. So I’m basically… married to prince Harry. Except I’m gonna have a better dress

Stephanie: I’m gonna put the nap in kidnap!

Duke: (talking about Batman’s survival training) he’s the kind of guy who goes into the woods and bites into raccoon neck for like, sustenance

Jason: I’m not scared, I’m kind of like… hard. Nope that wasn’t the word I wanted to say

*laughter from his siblings*

Jason: I meant hard like I’m tough not hard like, stop laughing dickhead I didn’t mean it that way

Dick: (clutching his stomach and cackling)

Stephanie: Tim’s the best at strategy because he plays a lot of board games, Jason and Damian are obviously the craziest. Me? I can create a distraction. Then we’ll throw Duke at them and run away

Duke: what?

Dick: now I’ve heard of Stockholm syndrome which is where you fall in love with your kidnapper. I’m not saying that’s gonna happen today, but that could happen today

Jason: you look so stupid right now

Tim: *messing with his handcuffs* thank you

Tim: wait, can I just- *starts pulling his hand out*

Others: slender wrists! Slender wrists! Slender wrists!

Duke: have any of you ever been in a situation like this?

Damian: I got into a cab once, it was going in circles and the driver kept changing directions and talking on the phone. Eventually I just put a knife to his throat.

Dick: I’m the run guy, he’s the stab guy

Jason: this is some dark shit y’all

Stephanie: is it weird that I’m excited?

Damian: *immediately kicks a henchman’s leg and makes a run for it when they put hoods over everyone’s heads* *gets caught and brought back to the others*

Dick: (conversationally) hey Dami how’d you do?

Damian: I made it about 50 yards

Stephanie: oh that’s pretty far

Random henchman: get down on the floor! No talking!

Dick: (lying facedown) what about singing?

Henchman: (kicks dust over him)

*muffled laughter from the other kids*

Stephanie: (mocking the others bc she’s not actually adopted) you’ll never get away with this, my dad is a very powerful man. Ooooh when my dad finds out about this

Tim: (giggling)

Jason: okay I’ve got a bunch of tape, what did you all get?

Duke: I got zip ties

Dick: I’m handcuffed pretty tight

Tim: wanna trade?

Jason: (motioning to a lock pick shiv he’s got in a secret pocket) okay unzip my pants

Dick: (unsure what’s going on but down for it) okay yeah

Tim: I don’t know about you guys, but I’m sweating like crazy right now. Feel my hand

Jason: no I don’t need to feel it that’s gross

Tim: I think I can just slip out

Duke: oh no way

Stephanie: his sweat lubed it up!

Dick: Tim’s anxiety is the best secret weapon

(During interrogations)

Duke: wait you guys it sounds like they’re torturing Jason

Jason: (In the distance) ow my dick!

Stephanie: *barely holding back laughter*

Damian: Drake you know what you have to do now, when they’re torturing you you have to slip out and kill them

Tim: *concern*

*the goons returning from an interrogations*

*muffled giggling as the kids try to get their hoods and restraints back on*

Dick: wait, help!

Stephanie: you’re on your own man!

*individual interrogations*

Goons: so who has the most money?

Jason: oh Tim definitely (immediately throwing him under the bus)

Goons: wow you really don’t hesitate to give each other up do you?

Goons: *spray something in Dick’s face*

Dick: is that axe body spray?

Dick: oh that’s really bad actually

Goon #1: disgusting isn’t it?

Dick: (cheerfully) yeah!

Goon #2: purest form of torture

Goons: so apparently this group’s leader is Tim

Tim: what are you talking about?

Goons: on your feet Timmy

Tim: oh I’ll do that, that’s fine, I just want it to be on the record that I am the leader, I’m the number one (being dragged away)

*interrogation room*

Goon #1: this is bear mace, you ever been bear maced?

Duke: I have not seen bear mace no, I can guess though, that it’s mace but bear strength

Jason: *trying to help get Dick’s hood off with his hands tied* come towards me I can probably do it with my knees

Dick: wha- you can just use your hands. You’re just humping my head

Stephanie: (joining the chaos) no wait hold still

*inaudible hump talk*

Stephanie and Jason: 1 2 3, go!

*they actually manage to get the hood off*

Dick: it did work, but it was super awful

*interrogation room*

Tim: I don’t know if you know this but nobody loves me, it’s kind of my shtick

Goons: who has the money?!

Tim: (rattling off business statistics)

Goon #1: you just like to babble and spit out a bunch of shit huh?

Duke: it’s how I think when I’m nervous!

Goon #2: how do you talk when you’re in pain?

Duke: pretty much the same

Goon: what’s wrong with you?!

Tim: oh so many things

*back in the main room*

Stephanie: (as she’s being dragged away) may I just say that you’re doing a great job, you have a beautiful operation here

Goon: *insults Damian*

Damian: I’ll remember that when I cut off your head

Stephanie: *fixing Duke’s hood to look like Yoda ears*

Tim: I told them my shtick is that nobody loves me

Dick: we love you!

Tim: okay then you pay my f*cking random

Damian: not all of us

Jason: (to Duke) (with authority) interrogation 101, you give them nothing dude

Goons: *forcing Tim to stand in a wall sit position*

Tim: oh is this exercise? This is gonna be so uncomfortable

Dick: oh! We got it! We got it!

*the others shushing him*

Dick: okay yeah shh you guys, shh, we got it!

*the kids walking away mostly barefoot after escaping*

Stephanie: (holding up the hoods) I’m keeping this as a souvenir!

Dick: lets just go until we find like-

Tim: a Starbucks

Duke: does it have to be a Starbucks?

Tim: it has to be a Starbucks I want a caramel macchiato

Jason: can we get fro-yo?

Stephanie: I’m very proud of myself, I escaped and I annoyed my captors relentlessly

Dianian: they probably would have killed you first as a message to the rest of us

Tim: I would like the record to state that they called me the leader

#dc comics #red robin dc #batfamily #batfam #tim drake #jason todd #red hood #spoiler dc #dick grayson #nightwing #damian wayne #batman and robins #Robins #robin dc #duke thomas #signal dc #bat shenanigans #batkids

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amara-scott · 3 years

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Movie: Divergent Characters: Eric Coulter x f!Reader Categories: Anger, Fluff, Eric

“Again.” Another jump, down to the ground, push up followed by another jump. Kick, kick, uppercut, hook. My hands fall to my knees, hunched over I try to gulp down the pain in my burning throat. I don’t know if it’s tears or sweat but it’s covering my hot face.

“Again.” He sounds more and more stern. I blink a couple times, standing up straight and am about to do the whole circuit for the- what, 40th time? I lost count long ago. My bones shake and muscles ache. It’s past the point where only numbness is left and I am scared I won’t feel anything anymore after I am done today. If I will ever be done. If he lets me.

I jump and am about to go down to the ground, my hands planted on the cool mat, feet ready to kick back into a plank but my arms shake before they give out and I fall to the ground face first. The ground cooling my cheek. I close my eyes and only hear my breathing, it's loud. Just as my thumping heart. Sweat stinging my eyes now.

“What are you doing?”

My eyes snap open at that question and I feel full of rage and hate. Just- frustration spreading inside every fiber of my being.

I twist my head around, supporting myself on my elbows. “Taking a break maybe?” I say, trying not to sound ironic or rude- but I do. I really don’t care though. I am past the point of just sucking it up.

“What did you say?” He challenges, his cold orbs boring into mine as he folds his arms and shifts in his stance, glaring down at me. His lips twitching into a not so amused smile before sneering down at me.

“I said- taking a break, maybe.” I repeat and twist, sitting with my knees angled up, placing my arms atop. Eyes now down between my legs on the ground. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. He still is a leader. Someone I should respect and who's orders I have to follow.

“Stand up, now.” I sigh with closed eyes and stand back up, looking at his arms, chewing my lower lip.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

I gulp and look up, trying not to forget to breathe. My heart calmed down but once I meet his eyes, my heart rate picks right back up.

“You’re not here to take breaks. You understand?” I nod quickly, not really having enough energy to even form words. He keeps silent for a moment longer, knowing that I struggle to keep up the eye contact. He smirks at the end, moving his head a bit closer, leaning forward.

“I’ll see you here tomorrow. Same time." I force myself not to close my eyes and sigh in frustration.

"-Actually, for the rest of the month. Every day.” My eyes grow a bit wider and I want to reply, talk back- but he just raises his pierced eyebrow, daring me. I gulp down my pride and nod once.

“Go.” His jaw is clenched and I quickly, dizzily grab my bottle and move past him, walking quickly.

Why, of all people, does he hate me so much? Am I doing that bad? I didn’t feel like I was. I rarely lost a fight and Four even complimented me after a few. I can’t say the same about Eric though. He never spoke. Only to correct or mock. Nothing kind ever left his lips.

With a sigh I fall into bed after my shower, not even in the mood to go get any food. I’ll just eat more tomorrow at breakfast. My eyes sealed shut and I doze off.

Eric is back at it, yelling at an initiate for losing and telling them to go back to the punching bags. He scoffs and turns around, his eyes wandering around the room and landing on me. I quickly turn away, holding the knife tightly between my fingers and focusing on the target ahead. The clashing of knifes the only sound I hear until he stands next to me.

“Throw it.” He commands and I take another deep breath, throwing and hoping I hit anything. But the knife just bounces off the wall and lands at the bottom of the target.

“Pathetic. Go get the knife.” I whip my head around and look at him with wide eyes.

“You mean- right now?”

“No, after practice. Of course now, go!” I flinch as he ends his sentence and turn back around, looking to the side as a couple people stop and watch.

“Did I say stop? Keep going, all of you.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before taking a deep breath and not looking back as a few knives land in my way, only making me stop a few times. Don’t look back- don’t look back- don’t-

A knife whips right past my ear, I feel the wind brushing my hair away and I stop, watching it emerge from the target I practiced at. I grab the knife off the ground and turn around. Eric standing there with another knife in hand and throwing it up a couple times.

“Next time I won’t miss.” I can’t move my legs after that and Eric frowns, sticking the sharp weapon into the wooden box it’s usually stored in.

“Come on, get back here. You’re not done practicing.”

I want to say anything but I can’t, my feet also glued to the ground. I want to lift anything but I’m frozen.

“(Y/N)? Come on.”

“(Y/N)?”

“Stand up, hey!”

I gasp, sitting up in bed, breathing heavily.

"You looked exhausted, I just wanted to let you sleep longer." Emma sits down next on my bed, giving me a sad smile.

"Thanks, I probably needed that." I mumble, clearing my throat and sit up next to her, head in my hands.

"I brought you some food, don't tell anyone." She whispers and unpacks a sandwich and an apple, handing both to me.

"Wow, thanks, you're amazing." I side hug her, taking the food and gulping everything down with water. Emma giggles watching me and stands back up.

"You shouldn't eat so fast, you'll get a stomach ache- we have to be in the training room in ten." She turns around, smiling one last time and walking off to join some others on their way to the training room.

I sigh, remembering what will happen after training. The dream- it felt so real.

I get ready quickly, jogging down the hall and entering through the tall doors. Everyone is gathering in a circle and I join in, blending into the back of the group to maybe not get noticed.

"This week will be all about your aim. Especially throwing knives and shooting guns." I roll my eyes, shaking my head to myself. This is ridiculous.

"Any complains?" My eyes shoot over to Eric, who's stare is fixed on me for a second longer before wandering around the group. Some are shaking their heads or mumbling no. He saw my expression. I will suffer even more today. If that's even possible.

"Let's get ready then, the targets are back at the wall, pic one and start throwing." Four tells us and we make our way to the targets. I jog up to Emma, sending her a smile.

"You think you're any good at this?" She asks and I shrug.

"Well it's not like I would have a lot of experience so- I can just hope."

"I actually did throw knives a lot back in Amity." I frown, my eyes boring into the side of her face as she smirks.

"Well, more in my head but still. Not the first time I'm thinking about it. Maybe that helps." I chuckle and shove her lightly, both of us finding a spot and trying out the knives, holding them, turning them.

"You have to take multiple aspects into account when throwing a knife. The weight, size and distance to your target. Have a go." Four says and starts pacing behind us hands behind his back and observing. I glance around more, trying to find the piercing blue eyes and I find them, a few steps further down the line but he turns, as if he felt me watching him.

I get ready and try to mimic someone who just hit their target. Legs steady, slightly parted- arm leaning back and then- I close my eyes until I hear a clashing sound. The knife fell down, not even close to the target. Wow.

I try a few more times and get closer and even hit the target but the knife never sticks fully.

"What are you doing?" I flinch at his voice, nearly dropping the knife in my hand. I turn to the side, watching Eric.

"Trying to hit the target?" It sound more like a question as I'm not in the mood to come off as a smart ass or the ironic bitch I usually am.

"Well, you're not doing a great job then." He states and I nod, agreeing with him. There is a small pause before he raises an eyebrow with folded arms.

"Could you maybe- help me out?" I say before thinking about what I actually just said. I hear Emma snorting beside me, trying to cover it up with a cough. Eric's eyes find her for a second before coming back to me.

"Turn around." I frown but quickly follow his order.

"Angle your hips." I shift, one foot forward the other further back, trying to stand sturdy.

"Further." His hands find my waist and he twists it more, my breath hitching as I glance down at his fingers sitting atop my hips.

"Look up." He says, his breath hitting my neck before he steps back again. I focus on the target, reaching my arm back and twisting my shoulders.

"Don't just reach your wrist back. The whole arm." He pulls at my elbow, correcting my stance and I feel my skin burning from where he touched me. My skin tingling.

"Twist your whole body while throwing. Full force." I take another deep breath and do as I'm told yelling out this time, not closing my eyes, too curious if it changed anything.

It did. I hit the target. It sticks. I grin and turn to Eric- but he's already gone further down. I turn back forward and want to do it again. And again.

Maybe I'm actually looking forward to after-practice today.

_________________________________ More Divergent Imagines Full Masterlist

#divergent #divergent imagine #eric coulter x reader #eric coulter #eric coulter imagine

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quaranmine · 3 years

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The Babysitting Game

They say it takes a village to raise a child. Well, Grian doesn't have a child but he does have an egg and a village. That’s basically the same thing, right?

Grian acquires an egg. His friends help him.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly fluff! Hermits: Grian, Mumbo, Pearl, and Scar. My first publish fanfic since 2016 and my first hermitcraft fanfic :D ao3 link and some inspirations to be linked in a reblog

Words: 2862

•·················•·················•

"What if I touched it really quick?" Scar asked.

"No, don’t-don’t touch the egg," Grian said seriously. "Look, I even made a sign! It specifically says ‘Do not touch.’" He gestured to the sign in question, but Scar ignored him.

"Can I rub it?" he said. The man leaned over it, studying the object carefully. Grian hadn’t known where to place the egg when he got it, and it was just sitting on an anvil for the time being. He didn’t even have a starter house yet, but clearly he was going to need something soon if he was going to protect the egg from some of the more . . . mischievous residents of their Boatem village.

“No, don’t touch the egg! Scar-” Grian walked closer, hands outstretched, just in time to see Scar reach out with his hand and pat the egg.

Vworp!

The egg disappeared into thin air.

Dragon eggs had a tendency to do that. It was a survival tactic--Grian didn't really know how it worked, but just as endermen could teleport away from danger, so could the egg if it were touched. Now whether or not Scar was dangerous remained up for debate…

Scar giggled. "Oh, where did you go?" he sang, hunting around the area.

Well, he COULD be pretty scary sometimes.

"Scarrrr," Grian whined, helping him look. "I told you not to touch it!"

"It's over here!" Scar shouted, finding the egg at the bottom of a small slope nearby. "Just one more time…." He reached out again.

"No!" Grian said, slapping his hand away. "Look, you've got to pick it up the right way." He demonstrated, carefully lifting the egg and placing it in a pouch slung over his back. He had hurriedly stitched it together not too long ago, worried that transporting the egg normally might break it. “If you do it roughly, you’ll scare it and it’ll teleport away again.”

"I see!" said Scar.

"Now, please, don't touch the egg.”

"Oh," Scar said. He straightened. "You're really serious about this."

Grian glared. "I am."

"I'm sorry, I just thought it was funny!"

Grian sighed. "It's okay, Scar. It's just--this thing is a baby, it needs to be handled gently! You can't just go around scaring it! What if it falls into a hole or something?" he hissed.

"Oh my god," Scar laughed, "you're its mother now!"

"No, no, I'm not!"

"You are!" Scar cried. He suddenly stopped. "Oh no, didn't you kill its mother?"

"Well it doesn't know that!" Grian snapped. "Truthfully I didn't realize there would be an egg! And I couldn't just leave it, you know! Here, look at this." Grian gently withdrew the egg from its pack, and Scar moved closer. He held it up to the sun. "Look at that."

The sun shined dark red through the deep purple shell of the egg, making it glow within. In the middle, the silhouette of a curled up creature was illuminated. Blood vessels radiated outward, and at the bottom there was a blank space that Grian assumed was air. The egg’s shell was too thick for any detail to be made out, but the processes happening within were clear. Grian was enchanted with it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

"Wow," Scar breathed. "There's actually a dragon in there! What're you gonna do with it after it hatches?"

"Well, I haven't exactly thought that far--I just want to worry about keeping it safe first. I mean, what do you even do with this thing?" Grian put the egg back in its satchel, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I suppose you keep it warm and safe but, like, I don't know what else-"

"I could help!" Scar said.

"You were just playing with it!"

"Hey," Scar said defensively, "that was before I knew more about it!"

Grian rolled his eyes.

“What are you guys doing over here?” said Mumbo, wandering over. Grian just knew he’d been up to something, and sure enough, there was a new tree next to his little collection of chests. Grian wasn’t very bothered by it, because he already had a plan to get Mumbo back for it.

“Grian is just showing me his new baby!” Scar teased. “He’s a mom now.”

“I am NOT its mother,” replied Grian tiredly, but he smiled at the sight of the other man.

“A baby?” Mumbo asked, choosing to ignore the rest of Scar’s statement.

“A dragon egg,” Grian answered. “I found it in the End.” He paused for a moment, feeling almost bad. “After I killed the dragon.”

“Grian! You’ve orphaned it!” Mumbo sounded scandalized.

“Why do you all keep bringing that up!?” he defended, glancing between Mumbo and Scar, who both gave him disapproving, albeit playful, looks. “I know you’re Mr. Peace, Love and Plants this time, but we’ve always killed the dragon in every new world!”

“Well, I guess that’s true, but it is a little sad isn’t it? You’re taking care of it but only because you killed its mum.”

“Yeah,” was all Grian said. The dragon always needed to be taken care of in each new world they visited, and while it was always a bit of a shame, he’d never really contemplated it that much. After all, he normally wasn’t the one who fought it--that last time in Evo aside. He didn’t really know what he had gotten into but he felt deeply like he needed to protect this egg. It was like a tug in his chest, drawing him into the egg and telling him not to let go.

“Show him the egg!” Scar said.

“You just want to see it again,” Grian replied, but pulled the egg out of the satchel again anyway for Mumbo to see. The surface of the egg wasn’t smooth, like a chicken’s egg, but bumpy. The purple spots almost seemed to glow, and occasionally little violet particles drifted off of it. Grian felt like he could stare at it in awe all day, and apparently his friends felt the same.

“How’re you going to keep it warm?” asked Mumbo after a moment of admiring it. “That satchel isn’t going to be enough, and to be frank, I don’t see you spending any time sitting on it, even if the mental image is pretty funny.”

Grian rolled his eyes at the comment, but thought about it. How would he incubate it? He may have had wings, but he didn’t know anything about eggs, other than that it was a safe bet to assume it needed to be kept warm. “I'm not sure, actually.”

“Hey, let me design something for you!” Mumbo said excitedly. “I could probably use some redstone and make an incubator of some sort for you.”

Grian smiled. “I’d really appreciate that.”

Asking Mumbo to create a contraption for him--what could go wrong?

•·················•·················•

“I’m not wearing this thing, you know.” Grian said, holding the contraption while Mumbo wheezed with laughter in the background. The design that Mumbo had come up with was essentially a backpack with heating elements strung through it, except for one thing . . .

“You-you wear it in the front,” Mumbo choked out, wiping a tear from his eyes.

“Yes, I see that,” Grian replied, unamused.

“Like a swaddle!”

“Yes, I see that.”

Mumbo laughed harder. Grian had to begrudgingly admit that it was well designed, however. It would fit the egg perfectly, keep it warm, and most important it was mobile to ensure that he could take the egg with him. It was thoughtful, especially since Mumbo knew Grian was quite protective of it.

“I’m not wearing this thing,” Grian repeated. “I’m not going to let you all laugh at me while I walk around the server with an egg swaddled to me!”

“I thought you’d say that,” Mumbo chuckled. “Here, you can switch the straps around and turn it into a backpack.” He unclipped the straps and moved them into the new configuration.

“Thank you, Mumbo,” he said gratefully. “This will certainly do the trick.”

“Glad to hear it mate,” Mumbo replied. “Now, while you’re here, may I ask why there is an incredibly tall tree on top of my camper?”

“Sorry, got to go!” blurted Grian, snatching the backpack from Mumbo’s arms and flying off in a burst of feathers.

“That’s unfair, I don’t even have an elytra yet to go chase him down with,” muttered the man as he watched Grian disappear.

•·················•·················•

Grian sat in the grass in front of his starter home and rubbed his eyes wearily. He was exhausted. Is this how all parents feel? he wondered. Was he just uniquely unqualified to be one? After all, this was only an egg! It hadn’t even hatched yet and he was already tired of keeping up with it.

Carrying it in the backpack was heavy, and Grian tired out quickly. It was hot on his back, and Grian found himself having to take breaks to avoid overheating. It was also cumbersome, and he found it difficult to build with as it shifted his weight. He almost fell off the roof once while building it! Of course, having wings meant that Grian could catch himself easily, but it had still given him quite the scare. Dragon eggs were pretty sturdy, and would teleport themselves out of danger if possible, but he was still so paranoid about breaking it. And now there was the Boatem Hole to worry about--what if it teleported itself into the void? These things kept Grian awake at night.

But if he left it...well, just like Grian had a tendency to lose items in his chest monsters, he also had a tendency to forget where he placed things. He had been forced to go back and rescue the egg from some place he’d left it more than once, which he wasn’t exactly proud of. What sort of parent forgot their child?

. . . He was definitely not admitting to being its parent.

Oh God, what did I get myself into?

“Hey Grian, what’re you up to?” came a voice, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up and saw Pearl standing over him. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and her hands were in her hoodie pockets. She took a seat on the ground next to him, and followed his gaze overlooking the Boatem village. “What’s on your mind?”

“This--this egg,” said Grian. It sat next to him in its backpack, still radiating heat. “I don’t know what to do with it. I’m just so tired of carrying it around!”

“I have to admit,” Pearl said, “I didn’t expect you to immediately adopt a baby dragon the very next time I saw you.”

“Yeah, well, it was an accident.” Grian groaned. “I don’t know what to do with it now, let alone when it hatches!”

Pearl thought for a moment. “You know, the rest of us are all here for you. The other hermits would be happy to help out, I’m sure.”

The other hermits . . . well of course they would. If it was one thing they were all good at, it was supporting each other. Scar had already taken a particular interest in the egg, although Grian was still a little suspicious of him scaring it again. Mumbo had specially designed an incubator for it. Pearl was visiting him to check up on him and offer help.

All Grian had to do was convince himself to let it go. To let them help.

“I know that but . . .”

“But what? Have you had any reason to believe they wouldn’t?” Pearl asked.

“Well, no.” He thought for a while. He thought of how his friends would lend materials when needed, or how they’d help replace someone’s armor and items if they were lost. He thought about the days where they all teamed up and chose one hermit to help out, and he thought about all the things they did for the good of the entire community without even being asked.

His desire to protect the egg was strong, and putting it into the hands of another person almost felt like simultaneously a betrayal of the egg itself and the biggest leap of faith he could take. But the hermits were good at leaps of faith, because someone was always there to catch you.

“You think it’d be okay?”

“I know it’ll be okay,” Pearl replied. “I haven’t been here very long but from what I’ve seen, I know they’d all help. They wouldn’t hurt it. They might be a little mischievous sometimes,” she said, glancing at Scar’s house, “but they know how important it is and would be happy to help. They helped you before, didn’t they?”

Pearl was right, of course. Nobody on the server had any desire to hurt the egg. He trusted that. If there was anyone that he could trust, it was them.

But how would he get them all to essentially sign up for babysitting?

An idea struck him, and Grian scrambled to his feet. “Pearl, you’re brilliant. Thank you!”

She blinked, a little startled. “Always happy to help.”

•·················•·················•

Grian stood back, admiring his work. A near perfect duplicate of the egg that was currently sitting in the backpack slung around his shoulder, but at a much larger scale. It was built out of obsidian blocks and crying obsidian for the spots, and if Grian was pretty proud of how it looked.

If Grian knew anything, it was that his friends loved minigames. And Grian was not above gently exploiting that fact to get a little help--just like barge game from the last world, where he managed to get his friends to help mine out the stone from next to his mansion. Just slap the title of “game” on something and you could get a hermit to sign up for anything.

“Now . . . I just have to write the signs on the inside.”

The game Grian had come up with was officially called Tegg--he needed to stay on brand with his tag games in every world--but he’d mentally been calling it “The Babysitting Game” for a while now. Because that’s what it really was--each hermit who signed up would also sign up to watch the egg and keep it safe. He set to work outlining the rules.

RULE ONE: Protect the egg and keep it safe.

RULE TWO: Keep the egg incubated or it’ll die.

RULE THREE: Keep a close eye on the egg.

RULE FOUR: Call Grian if it starts to hatch.

Satisfied, he wrote out the rest of the instructions. Because it was a game, he wanted to make it fun for the hermits too, so he’d decided to make it like a scavenger hunt. People were allowed to take the egg, provided they adhered to the rules, and were encouraged to hide it and keep it safe. Otherwise, someone else who wanted to have it could get it. The safer the egg was, the less likely for someone else to find it. The winner was whoever had the egg the longest when it finally hatched. Grian didn’t know how long that would take, but he didn’t want to miss it either, hence rule four.

Yep, totally outsourcing his babysitting onto his friends.

Grian squinted at his wall of signs, before placing one final sign at the bottom: Grian will track the game and has final say on points and rules!

“That should do it,” he mumbled. He still wanted to keep an eye on the egg, to make sure that he knew who had it and how many people’s hands it had gone through. After all, he was the one ultimately responsible for it.

Grian pulled the egg out of the backpack and carefully placed it on the ground. He’d somehow made a habit of just speaking to it every now and then--he had no idea if the little dragon could hear anything in there, but he liked to think that it could. “Hey there,” he whispered, and stroked the top of the egg. “Some new people are going to start taking you pretty soon, but it’s okay. They’re going to give me some help and make sure you’re safe.”

He paused, taking in the little room he’d made and the wall of signs he’d written with meticulous instructions for the egg’s care. It may have been the first thing he’d built for this egg, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be his last. A baby dragon was a commitment and for the first time Grian really let himself think about what that meant, beyond just an egg that he had to carry around. Would he house it? Train it? Let it stay by his side? Would he love it?

I think I already do, he thought.

He thought of the hermits--their mischievousness, their pranks, their hard work, their friendship, and their goodness at heart. They were his family, now. What was one more addition?

“It’s okay,” he whispered to the egg. “I trust them all with my life, but more importantly, I trust them with yours.”

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft fanfic #quara fanfic

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

Helpless (3)

warnings: misunderstandings, spiders/arachnophobia, mild violence

Halfway through the woods, Patton heard the distinct sound of someone mumbling.

He paused mid-step, tilting his head to listen with a fair bit of curiosity. The mumbling was quiet enough that he couldn’t make out any individual words, but he could more or less tell which direction it was coming from.

Whatever the source was, they sounded a little frustrated.

He hesitated. Virgil was always emphasizing how careful Patton needed to be in the woods, though how much of that was due to actual danger and how much was the drider being a worrywart over Patton’s ‘chronic inability to defend himself’, he wasn’t sure.

Either way, this didn’t sound like a dangerous wild animal, so it would probably be okay to take a little detour and see what the matter was!

He followed the noise off the trail into a thick copse of trees, eventually coming upon intricate silvery threadwork that wound between them. He was proud to say he only barely shuddered as he ducked past them, his fear of spiders mostly overcome by his affection for his friend.

The webbing got thicker the further he went, and eventually he came upon the source of the mumbling, which appeared to be a whole person, stuck against the outer edge of one of Virgil’s larger webs.

They looked up upon spotting him, eyes bright for a moment before taking him in and visibly dulling with disappointment, which, aside from sorta hurting Patton’s feelings, seemed an odd response for someone in need of help.

“Hello there,” he greeted, waving. “My name’s Patton, I live over at the nearby town. You seem to be in a bit of a prestickament!”

“No, I did this myself,” the stranger corrected, already looking past Patton with disinterest. “It is an attempt to meet with someone I would like to speak with, and they seem the skittish sort, so I would appreciate it if you moved on.”

Patton hummed, more than a little confused. Something about this seemed familiar. “What are you going to do if this person doesn’t show up, though?”

“My arms are free,” they responded, frowning at Patton’s persistence as they wiggled the fingers of their free hand demonstrably. The other hand was occupied with a worn-looking journal. “I will be able to eat and drink, and thus am in no danger.”

“My friend says these woods can get mighty cold at night,” Patton countered, undeterred. “Can’t you meet your friend in town, instead? Why does it have to be a drider’s web?”

And, oh, that was it! Virgil had just been telling him the other day about someone who’d gotten stuck in one of his webs just like this, a mage who had been all-too-delighted to see him. Patton had hardly registered how they’d met, since he’d mostly been very upset to learn that some people would try to use his friend’s body parts as potions ingredients.

“That’s because the drider is the one I’m hoping to speak with,” the stranger replied, as though it should be obvious. “I sincerely doubt they would appreciate an invitation to town.”

Patton stared at the little notebook for a moment, and abruptly put the pieces together. This must have been the stranger that freaked Virgil out so badly!

And he was lying in wait in one of Virgil’s webs… In that case, there was no way he could leave things like this.

“I don’t think the drider is around,” he offered cheerily. “Sometimes they migrate to different areas for different seasons! You won’t meet anyone while hanging around, so I’ll help you down!”

He circled around the tree where most of the webs were rooted, approaching the stranger’s edge of webbing, and found to his surprise that they really were stuck. How they planned to ambush Virgil while stuck in a web, he wasn’t sure, especially since the gambit hadn’t worked on the first attempt either. Magic, maybe?

“How do you know that?” the stranger asked, craning to look at him with sudden interest. “About drider migration cycles.”

Patton shrugged as he plucked at the threads of the web, testing each one to see where they led. “I’m a good listener, so I pick things up here and there. What do you do?”

It seemed to be the right question to ask, since the stranger perked up, distracted from his inquiry.

“I am a researcher,” they informed Patton. “I’m seeking out information on the more reclusive creatures that live in these lands, like driders! This is the first one that I’ve met in person, so if they’re leaving, I need to catch up right away.”

Patton slid the sheath off of the little paring knife he’d taken to carrying and started sawing at one of the threads. “Are you going to try to capture him?” he asked, keeping his voice as even as he could. “You know, for your research.”

“I’m not a bounty hunter,” they replied indignantly. “The behavior of any being would be unnatural and stilted while imprisoned, especially a sapient one. My research is meant to increase humanity's understanding of driders, not to put them on display for entertainment.”

Patton blinked at them, slicing through another strand. “You… aren’t looking to hurt them?”

“No!” They honestly sounded offended by the idea. “I don’t think I ever could, anyhow, the one I met was very large, and they would likely be able to incapacitate me without any trouble.”

“Weren’t you scared?” Patton asked, remembering the terror that had swept through him during that first encounter, when he’d thought the drider was a giant creepy crawly death dealer. Even after he realized, when Virgil yoinked him with his two front legs, Patton had been a little nervous.

“People are only scared of what they don’t understand,” they informed him, chin lifted stubbornly, “and I know more about driders than any other human. I don’t see any reason to be afraid.”

“Wow… You’re really passionate about this, huh?” Patton grinned as he sliced through the last of the support webbing, and with a few snaps, the researcher fell to the ground, only a few strands of silk clinging to them.

“Of course!” they replied, pausing to pull some of the softer webbing bits off of himself and folding them into a pocket of his bag. “The information compiled on them is often vague or outright misleading, and due to their reclusiveness and occasional aggression, nobody else has been able to correct these false accounts.”

They paused, studying the woods around them. “I am… uncertain on how I’m going to discern which area the drider has chosen to migrate to. I don’t suppose you have any idea?”

Patton patted their shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. I think there’s a friend of mine you should meet properly.”

—

“Virgil!” Patton called brightly. “I’m here!”

He had been leading the way through increasingly dense and shadowy foliage for a fair while, now. Logan glanced up from their connected hands to see exactly where he was being pulled to, his heartbeat picking up in speed despite the possibility that this was a cruel prank or even a mugging.

Sure, Patton had described the drider that he’d met a couple of days ago quite accurately, but that was no assurance that he was actually familiar with the being. Most of the townsfolk seemed peripherally aware of ‘Virgil’’s presence, after all, so Patton could have glimpsed him before. It seemed more likely than them being friends. Driders were notoriously solitary, and ‘Virgil’ had seemed quite averse during Logan’s encounter with him, after all.

There was a crack from above, like a branch snapping.

In the next moment, a heavy weight had dropped down from above, knocking Logan to the ground and forcing all the air from his lungs. As he gasped futilely, he realized there were two hands pinning his arms to the ground, and some very familiar fangs put on full display, mere inches from his face.

“Leave him alone,” a very angry drider demanded, his regular voice layered with harsh, gravely rattling.

Logan wheezed in response, absently noting that there were multiple small black eyes visible against the dark marks under the more human set of eyes and wondering just how the two different ocular sensory organs overlapped.

“Virgil, stop!” Patton’s hands appeared at the edge of Logan’s vision, pushing back against Virgil’s shoulders until he eased up, lifting his crouched spider half up only slightly, as though prepared to lunge at Logan again at any moment. “He’s fine! He won’t hurt you!”

Virgil’s glare finally flicked away, though it turned more bewildered-angry than murderous-angry once landing on Patton. Logan wasn’t sure, but he thought the smaller eyes remained locked on him. “This is the mage I told you about! It’s not safe, you need to get out of here--,”

“Mage?” Logan asked, his voice still coming out a little winded. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s not,” Patton said at nearly the same time, “I promise, he just wants to know more about you! Right, Logan?”

“I’m certainly not a mage,” he agreed, rubbing at his arm. The full force of a drider grabbing him… that was going to bruise. He wondered if there was a way to measure that power. “I’m not sure how you got that impression, I don’t have any of the tools mages often carry.”

Virgil looked back and forth between the two humans with clear consternation, and Patton was the one who answered. “Well, most people are afraid at just the sight of him. And… you weren’t.”

“Of course not,” Logan said, still trying to grasp the connection between his lack of fear and his alleged magehood. “I was enthralled. He’s very beautiful.”

Above him, Virgil made a choked-off noise and shuffled back, giving Logan space to sit up and regain full faculty of his senses. Virgil had turned his face away, and Patton was muffling a smile behind his hand.

“Was that… invasive?” Logan asked hesitantly, glancing between the two of them. “I apologize, this is my first research voyage, so I may have become... over-enthusiastic.”

Virgil flapped a hand at him, as though trying to physically dispel his words. “What exactly does a ‘research voyage’ entail?”

Logan straightened up, trying to look as professional as possible while still sitting on the forest floor. He suspected there might be detritus in his hair. “It’s a journey undertaken by apprentice-level researchers to expand their knowledge in their specific field. Often, once they have thorough evidence and a compelling thesis, they will return to their teacher and present this in order to advance as a journeyman.”

Of course, Logan had no intention of doing that. He was going to spend as long as he could traveling and learning and compiling his knowledge, until nobody could argue that he wasn’t suited to the world of scholars.

“And your field is… spiders? Monsters?” Virgil asked, eyebrows raised dubiously.

“I am attempting to correct the misconceptions that are so rampant in bestiaries,” Logan corrected. “So many depend on them, but I’ve found very few actually capture the intricacies of the cultures and habits of nonhuman magical beings. They read more like old wives’ tales, passed down and warped with time, and both the scientific community and the beings in question suffer for it.”

“Huh.” Virgil tilted his head slightly, and Logan realized that at some point his smaller eyes had closed, the dark creases vanishing amidst the pockets of shade under his eyes.

“That sounds like the bestiary way to help people!” Patton added, and Logan watched in disbelief as Virgil’s expression relaxed further, the drider snorting softly.

“So all I’d have to do is… be a drider in front of you?” he asked, one of his back legs tapping against the ground in a remarkable imitation of the way a nervous human might tap their foot. Logan nodded. “I guess… it could work. And it’d be nice to have someone else around who won’t scream at the sight of me.”

“New friend!” Patton cheered, looking perhaps more delighted at the idea than Logan’s presence really warranted. “Only the spidaring are cool enough to be friends with Virgil.”

“Is the wordplay going to be a regular thing with him?” Logan asked, his face pinching sourly.

“Better get used to it. He’s punstoppable,” Virgil replied, grinning toothily when Logan shot him a betrayed look. Logan thought he seemed pleased, going by the subtle twitching of his pointy ears.

Logan hid a small smile of his own. Perhaps following Patton wasn't the unwisest decision he'd ever made, after all.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #arachnaphobia tw #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #drider #drider au #my writing #helpless #writing #am i missing tags?

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jungshookz · 3 years

Note

Imagine jimin dancing without shirt because it's to hot and the whole class sees him😳

no need to imagine baby i gotchu

this was supposed to be super short but i said that to myself like two hours ago and it turned into,.,.., thIS..,,. so if balletteacher!jimin doesn’t win the poll at least the ballet!couple stans have,.,.,. WHATEVER THIS IS

➺ pairing; balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n

➺ genre; i literally cannot focus because i keep staring at this gif so just assume this drabble is as hot as jimin i,.,.,. i am about to go into my jimin phase again,.,.

➺ wordcount; i don’t know i am so out of it right now (1.7k)

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the original creator of course :-))

»»————-　🔥　————-««

“sorry i couldn’t make it to brunch last week and... the week before that… but i can definitely join you guys this week!” you chirp, pausing for a second so you can quickly pull your hair into a flimsy low bun, “there’s this place that has these massive waffles and you can pour as much syrup on it as you want on them-” you take your duffle bag out before slamming your locker shut and turning around, “plus-”

you immediately stop talking when you realize that you’re all alone in the changing room

you blink twice before reaching up to scratch your head

what the heck

…how long have you been talking to yourself for??

there are still bags and shoes and loose articles of clothing sitting on benches and hanging out of lockers but it’s just that their owners have completely disappeared

“guys?” you frown, zipping your hoodie up as you step over items littering the ground to make your way to the door, “i know i’ve been really flaky with our dates and stuff but you don’t have to abandon me mid-conversation to prove a point-” you poke your head out of the changing room, holding your breath for a second to see if you can hear anything

“-is someone filming this or what??”

“shh!!”

“move over, let me look too-”

that’s odd

“guys…?” you lower your voice as you approach the girls cautiously, raising a brow at the sight of them crowding around the door of the classroom, “is there, like- some kind of hip-hop class or something-”

you can practically feel the vibrations of the bass pumping through the floorboards as you get closer and closer, the sound of muffled thumping leaking out through the crack in the door

“y/n!” lisa turns her head when she hears you, slipping out of the group with a giggle and gesturing for you to hurry and come over, “there you are, silly- i thought you followed us-”

“follow- well, class is over and we’re all changing out of our unitards so i didn’t know i had to follow you guys anywhere-” you snort, leaning over a little to look at the group of giddy girls again, “let me guess - those boys from that other dance academy came to use our rooms again-”

“guys, move out of the way so y/n can take a look-” lisa swats at jisoo’s back gently, the girls whispering to each other excitedly as they step aside to let you through

“no way!” seulgi chirps, popping her head up at the front of the group, “you snooze, you lose, y/l/n-”

“c’mon, seulgi, don’t be like that-” lisa tuts, shoving at your back to force you through the tightly packed group, “everyone should get a chance to see this-”

“see what?! what is going on-”

“fine, but i’m only giving you one minute-” seulgi wags a finger at you before stepping down from the ledge, wrapping her hand around your elbow and yanking you up, “sixty seconds.”

“can i just say that you guys get so weird whenever those boys come to-” your mouth immediately goes dry the second you turn your head and peer through the crack, all the blood in your body rushing up to congregate in your face, “oh, dear god-”

you were certainly right about all this commotion being caused because of men

except, in this case, it’s just because of one man

you watch in shock as a very shirtless jimin slams his arms down mid-air against the beat, twirling around in the spot with his head tilted back

he slides a hand down his chest until he reaches the waistband of his sweatpants, lifting a leg and thrusting his hips forward with a grunt

his tongue pokes out in between his lips before it curls upwards and you swallow dryly when you feel your stomach flutter

out of all the things you were expecting to see when you looked into the classroom, it definitely wasn’t this

you’ve never seen jimin dance outside of a classical setting so this is very… very…

wow

this is very wow

“god, i wanna fuck him.” seulgi sighs dreamily, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, “i love men. don’t you love men?”

“men- i-” you force yourself to snap out of your daze, letting out a nervous chuckle as you turn to look at seulgi, “this- to be honest, this feels like a private moment, you know? i-i feel like we should probably leave now before he catches us-”

“oh my god, you always get so weird around mr. park!” seulgi scoffs, rolling her eyes before pursing her lips, “you can appreciate his beauty without feeling bad, y/n. relax a little!”

you press your lips together as you take a second to think through her response

…

what are you even thinking about?

of course you know you can appreciate his beauty!

you have personally appreciated his beauty in private many, many times but of course no one knows that

but maybe if you quit acting so weird and twitchy, seulgi will finally give you a break and will stop giving you crap about how nervous you get around mr. park

for the record, the only reason why you get so sweaty and weird whenever the conversation shifts to how attractive mr. park is is because you’re scared you’ll accidentally let something slip one day and screw everything up

the other day lisa was wondering out loud if mr. park had a six-pack or an eight-pack and you were about to respond with a ‘it’s a six-pack but he’s getting to an eight-pack if i’m being honest-‘ but LUCKILY you stopped yourself before all of that word vomit spewed out of your mouth

obviously she got her answer today after spying on him dancing half-naked

“in fact, i think it’d be good for you to appreciate his beauty up close so you can finally join in on our conversations…” seulgi clears her throat, pushing herself up from the wall as she zeroes in on you

“yeah, well, i think my sixty seconds is up, so maybe- oh!” you gasp when you feel two hands shove at your back and you don’t get a chance to even process the fact that you’re being pushed before-

the door ricochets against the wall with a smack! after you get pushed into the room, your palms slapping against the wooden floor immediately to keep yourself from knocking a tooth out

“y/n!” jimin snaps out of his intense concentration when he sees you stumble into the room behind him in the mirror, turning to look at you with wide eyes before hurrying over to the stereo to turn the music off, “are you alright??”

“fine! i-i’m fine- i’m good-” you sneakers squeak against the ground as you scramble to your feet, glancing back to glare at a very smug-looking seulgi

why is she always getting you into these situations?!

…how do you always let her get you into these situations?!

“i’m so sorry for… i… um…”

you know this isn’t the first time you’ve seen his skin glisten with sweat but something about the way the light is hitting jimin is making you feel a little lightheaded

the corner of jimin’s mouth curls into a knowing smirk when he notices the way your eyes lower from his face to his body, “i was… you see, i-”

“you were…” he coos mockingly, tilting his head as he makes his way back over to you, “you were what, bab-”

“the girls!” you interrupt frantically, stepping aside to gesture towards the large group of girls still crowded by the door, “the- the girls wanted me to- uh, they wanted me to ask you a question so i- that’s why i’m in here.”

jimin’s face pales slightly when he notices the girls standing by the door

whoops

“oh, of course!” he clears his throat loudly before taking a step back from you, the two of you exchanging panicked glances before he bends down to pick his shirt up, “what was the question?” he slides his shirt back on

“there’s no question, sir-” seulgi chimes in before pausing for a second, “however, as the obvious group leader here, i’d like to say on behalf of everyone that you are very welcome to demonstrate this dance in class if you’d like-”

the girls immediately burst into laughter and jimin snorts before reaching up to scratch the back of his neck bashfully

“very funny, ladies-” jimin shakes his head before gesturing for everyone to go, “go and get out of here! i’ll see all of you next week-”

“have a good weekend, mr. park!”

“goodbye, mr. park!”

“bye, mr. park!!”

you wait until you hear everyone’s voices drift further and further away before scurrying over to the door and peering around it to make sure no one’s around

“coast is clear.” you let out a breath of relief to see that the hallway is empty before turning around to- “oh!” you jump when you end up bumping right into jimin, stumbling back a little before reaching out to press your hand flat against his chest so you can shove him back into the room, “what is the matter with you?? you already know all the people here drool over you on a daily basis and you still go around half-naked and- and thrust your hips like that-”

“what, you didn’t like it?” jimin teases, wrapping his fingers around your wrist so he can pull your hand down and slide it underneath his shirt

“hey-” you feel your entire face flush the moment your hand comes into contact with the ridges of his firm abdomen and you slip your hand out quickly, jimin laughing at your reaction before reaching up to pinch your cheek

“all i’m saying is that you weren’t exactly against my thrusting last night, miss y/l/n-”

“jimin!”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits just like this one!)

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donald4spiderman · 3 years

Text

The City

masterlist

Summary: Reader is thinking about moving to California. Spencer’s determined to get her to stay.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Category: Fluff (angst if you squint)

**Inspired by Ben’s poetic confession in Parks and Recreations, S3E14**

Here’s a draft i forgot to post

**not edited yet**

Spencer’s POV

As a profiler, I’ve mastered the observation and analysis of behavior— we all have.

Picking the minds of serial killers is second nature— so why is it so hard for me to figure out why (Y/N) is behaving so strangely?

In the recent months, her witty and charming energy has dwindled into a lethargic imitation. Whether she’d admit it or not— (Y/N) can be extremely enthusiastic about certain things— especially our job.

So, when I watch her drag her feet, inch by inch, into the BAU each morning, It’s hard to contain my concern.

I know Morgan has noticed, and I’m sure everyone else has too. They’re probably just too scared to say anything. (Y/N) doesn’t enjoy people prying into her private life, so we all stay a comfortable distance away.

I watch her a lot... more than I’d like to admit. It’s hard to be unaware of her nervous behaviors— the nail biting, hair twisting, skin picking— I practically have enough data to make a correlation graph. I can tell when she’s upset, and it’s happening more than usual.

(Y/N) has always been kind to me. Even when I was at the peak of my stammering, slicked-back hair phase, she treated me with more respect than I deserved. I can only imagine how awkward I must’ve been (or, still am), and I thank her for not belittling me.

I guess I’m validating the Benjamin Franklin Effect when I say this— but I feel like I owe it to her to ask what’s wrong. Over the years I’ve built up (arguably) the closest friendship with her, so it only makes sense for me to bite the bullet for the team.

It’s partially due to the fact that I’ve developed a slight (if not major) crush over time, but who wouldn’t? A gorgeous, intelligent, quick-witted women is kryptonite for any person. Our conversations are always stimulating, she gives the best advice, and she’s always there to comfort a team member.

So, it pains me to see her struggle through a paperwork day. I wish she would reach out to anyone for help, but it’s not in her nature.

“H-Hi.” I smile as I approach her desk. Her tired eyes look up at me, and she smiles back.

“Hey, Reid. What’s up?

I rub the back of my neck nervously. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Morgan and Emily watching me struggle to form a sentence. They giggle as they watch.

“I-I was... um. D-do you want to get coffee with m-me? Not now! I mean— after work!” Morgan stumbles out of the bullpen, barely containing his laugh. I must sound pathetic.

(Y/N) nods hesitantly, “S-sure. I don’t know why you want to get coffee with me, but I’m free.”

“Really?” My surprise shocks her. “T-that’s gr-great! I can drive you!”

She chuckled, “I think I’d rather drive us. I’m pretty sure you can’t drive a mile without hitting a curb.”

I nod fervently. “Sounds good.”

As I make my way back to my desk, I send a glare in Emily’s direction as she continues to smirk at me.

(Y/N) grabs an empty table in the café, and we sit down, huddling close to our warm drinks. She orders a cinnamon latte, I order a black coffee with an unhealthy amount of sugar.

I place the drinks down. “Did you know that cinnamon is shown to reduce systolic blood pressure. It’s commonly used in South Asia and works by dilating blood vessel.”

She nods, “Surprisingly, I did know that. You’re gonna have to teach me something else, Doc.” I laugh in response, enjoying the relaxation that radiates off of her.

“I feel like we don’t get to, um, t-talk as much as I would like to.” My words get caught in my throat and she gives me a lopsided smile.

“Well, we don’t exactly have the most leisurely job.” She states, sipping her drink.

I bite my lip, she looks down. I convince myself that my mind is playing tricks on me, because there’s no way (Y/N) would glance down to watch me pull my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I know... but you used to talk more.”

“I’ve been busy lately. Tired too.” She mumbles.

I mean forward slightly, my voice is a hushed whisper. “A-are you... okay?” I’m anticipating an defensive response, but all she does is sigh.

“I’m alright. I just... I’m getting tired of being here— in D.C.”

My eyes widen and my brows knit together. “W-What! Why?”

(Y/N) shrugs, “I don’t know. I just expected to feel... really, really attached to D.C when I first moved here. I love my job, and I love you guys— but nothing’s keeping me here.”

My face drops. My disappointment is adamant because she scrambles to reassure me.

“It’s not that I don’t absolutely love working with you guys. You’re my best friend, Spencer. But... I came to D.C to... I don’t know... settle down.” It comes out as more of a question rather a statement. “It’s sounds weird, right? Me, settling down?” She laughs. “I-I don’t mean a husband and a family necessarily. I moved here because I wanted to belong somewhere.”

“You don’t feel like you belong?”

“I feel... I feel like everything I have right now is temporary. It’s not the feeling I expected to have. I just want to have something permanent in my life for once.”

I remain silent, lacking the proper response.

“Please don’t tell anyone!” She pleaded.

I smile solemnly, “I won’t. I promise.”

In that moment, I make another promise. Not just to (Y/N), but to myself. I’m going to show her how many things she has here for her in D.C.

I’m going to prove how much I believe she belongs.

I started by bringing her coffee each morning— a cinnamon latte from the same café we went to.

The first time she seemed pleasantly surprised. I sped through the doors of the bullpen, my coat and slacks absolutely soaked due to the rainy D.C weather. She giggled at the sight of my hair plastered to my forehead. I was certain that I looked like a wet dog.

“Morning!” I greeted, placing down both cups of coffee on her desk so I could fix my hair. “I-uh-I got you coffee. A cinnamon latte, of course.”

(Y/N) smiles brightly, “You’re the best. Thanks, Reid. I definitely needed this.”

Hotch and Rossi are watching me curiously, pretending not to look up from their files. At this moment, I could care less.

“It’s n-nothing.” Suddenly I’m blushing furiously under the weight of her stare.

“Thanks, again.” She clears her throat, “Y-you’re a really good friend.”

She smiles. And I smile.

In the next three weeks, (Y/N) and I grow closer at a rate faster then ever. I try to do something small for her everyday. Finishing up a file for her; Bringing her coffee or water; Sitting next to her on the jet. It appears to be working— she looks much more relaxed and happy. Her sarcastic humor is back and she engages more with the team.

We’ve decided to hang out after today. I find myself enjoying every minute with her, even if all we do is talk, eat, and walk around aimlessly. I’m sure she’s tired of me, but my infatuation with her only grows.

Tonight, we’re sitting at the park, watching people on their late night jogs, dog walkers, babysitters. We finished eating Indian food at a local restaurant. Turns out we’re both regulars at the same place, it’s a shame we haven’t run into each other.

She’s sitting criss-cross on the bench, her elbow rested on top of her knee. “You know,” She starts, “D.C is pretty great. I don’t think I’ve felt this... content in a while.”

I smile, even if it’s too dark for her to see. “Th-thanks. D.C is a great place, despite averaging 39 inches of rain annually.”

She means her head back against the bench. “I still don’t know. I feel like I’m just waiting for something. I don’t even know what that something is... a sign maybe?”

“A sign?” I laugh.

“Y-yeah... a sign. I’d usually make a pros and cons list and research the differences between the two places but... this decision feels too personal to look at it as just statistics.”

In this very moment, I decide to toss all my concerns, questions, what if’s, into the wind. This is my final move; my last resort; my Hail Mary.

My hands are trembling, and it takes me seconds to force the words out of my throat.

“W-well, besides the higher cost of living and considerably gloomy weather, D.C can be a p-pretty great place to reside. It has a busy political culture and is one of the most diverse states in the country.” I pause for a little longer than necessary.

“But, besides statistics and facts, if w-we look past objectivity, to me: D.C is where my friends are, and my friends are my family. Um... I like The City because it’s home to so many great people. A-and I know it’s hard to see the good in things considering how much violence we see on a daily basis, but certain people make me believe that things aren’t all that bad.”

(Y/N)‘a listening attentively, making me even more nervous than I thought possible. “D.C— The City— is beautiful. It’s charming. It’s a warm, cinnamon latte on a rainy day, o-or a late night walk in the park. To me, it’s home.” I catch her smirking a little bit, and I can only hope that she understands what I’m trying to say.

“Plus, The City is really good at her job. The City’s an excellent profiler. But, the city’s an even better friend, and an even better person. It doesn’t hurt that The City has great hair, and gorgeous eyes, and a perfect smile. And, she does this cute thing where she twists the ends of her hair, even if I keep telling her to stop. The City’s beautiful and definitely out of my league. She probably wants nothing to with me now, but I don’t care. I really like The City. And, even if she doesn’t like me back, she should stay, because there are so many people that like and love The City. ‘Cause who wouldn’t.”

(Y/N) is full on grinning right now, and it’s hard to stay patient when so much is on the line.

“Wow.” She giggles. “You really like The City.”

I chuckled awkwardly, “Y-yeah. I really do.”

“I mean, if you think The City’s so great, maybe I should stay. Plus, I’m sure The City likes you too.”

I feign confusion, “Really? I don’t know... The City can be kind of closed off sometimes.”

“Trust me— The City definitely likes you back. And I don’t think The City appreciates you saying that about her”

“Oh really?” I gasp. “Let’s ask her.”

I turn my head around, then proceed to look back at (Y/N) in the most dramatic fashion.

“Hey.” I laugh.

“Oh, Hi Dr. Reid!” She feigns surprise to match my frivolousness.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, b-but I really like you. And, a little birdy told me that you like me back.”

She laughs heartily, “Well, that little birdy is a pretty reliable source.”

Soon, her head is resting on my shoulder. My body’s stiff and the air is caught in my lungs, but I feel more content than I have in years. Somehow the weather is warmer, and the sun is brighter, and things just seem... better.

“This is a great city.” She mumbles, peering up at me in the most adorable fashion.

“Yeah,” I smile, “It really is.”

“Pawnee’s a really special town, I love living there. And, I look forward to the moments in my day where I get to hang out with the town, and talk to the town about stuff. The town has really nice blonde hair too. And, it’s read a shocking number of political biographies for a town, which I like.” - Ben Wyatt

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #dr reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #sub!spencer #bittersweet #criminal minds x reader #fluff #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader

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gammija · 3 years

Text

The final Web!Martin evidence list

Now that canon is done, and we’ve got word of god confirmation that Web!Martin wasn’t complete nonsense, I decided to go back to my lil chronological evidence list and actually clean it up a bit, delete parts that in hindsight weren't all that indicative, and put everything in a slightly more readable format. (Obligatory disclaimer that i don’t and never did believe or advocate for some kind of evil web!martin, and that I'm not intending to connect a moral judgement to martin (or anyone else for that matter) having some of these traits)

So here: The (hopefully, please) final list with Web!Martin Evidence! Presented in order of importance, according to. me

The final (hopefully) Web!Martin evidence list

(In order from most to least obvious)

Spiders

I mean, it’s called the Web. TMA reiterates quite a few times that Martin liked spiders. Sometimes it IS that easy.

MAG022: Martin: "I like spiders. Big ones, at least. Y’know, y’know the ones you can see some fur on; I actually think they’re sort of cute -"

MAG038: | Sasha: "A spider?" Jon: "Yeah. I tried to kill it…" [...] Sasha: [Chuckles] "Well, I won’t tell Martin." Jon: "Oh, god. I don’t think I could stand another lecture on their importance to the ecosystem."

MAG059: Jon: "I have done my best to prevent Martin reading this statement in too much detail. I have no interest in having another argument about spiders."

MAG079: Jon: "Apparently, biologically, his account of the spiders doesn’t make any sense according to Martin."

MAG197: Martin: “What? Because I like spiders? Well, used to.”

Lies and subterfuge

Martin is able to use lying and subterfuge to achieve his goals, and is called manipulative a few times.

Lies:

MAG022: Martin: "[He] became slightly more co-operative after I lied to him and told him that one of the upstairs residents had buzzed me in."

MAG056: Martin: "I lied on my CV."

MAG158: Peter: “But you said –” Martin: “Honestly, I mostly just said what I thought you wanted to hear.”

MAG164: Jon: "You – I actually believed you!"

MAG189: Martin: “Sorry. Sorry, John. Not sure how much everything up there actually understood what was going on. But, y’know, I didn’t want to take any chances so it made sense to… um…” Jon: “Put on a show?” Martin: “Yeah, basically, more or less.”

MAG191: Martin: "That's not true." Arun: "Liar!"

Subterfuge:

The plan in 118, which revolved around convincing Elias that Martin was only “acting out”, to create a distraction for Melanie. (Also compare the way he evades giving a straight answer here with the way Annabelle talks in 196.)

Working with Peter in s4 under false pretenses, to distract him from Jon and eventually try to learn what Peter wanted.

Manipulation accusations:

These, I know, are somewhat contentious, since it’s mostly villains saying this to him. I’m still including them, since

1): From a media analysis standpoint, being mentioned 3 times is a sign to pay attention, even when it may not be the full truth.

2): I only see it as describing Martin’s behaviour in the previous points, not as a moral judgement; Especially since he almost always ‘manipulates’ people in positions of power over him.

Still, if it bothers anyone, feel free to ignore these.

MAG138: Martin: "That’s it? No, no monologue, no mind games? You love manipulating people!" Elias: "That makes two of us."

MAG186: Martin: “I can be a real manipulative prick, you know that?” Also Martin: “Oh yeah.”

MAG196: Annabelle: “Because you always managed to get what you wanted through smiles and shrugs and stammerings that weren’t nearly as awkward as they seemed.” [SMALL SOUND OF MARTIN’S CONCESSION TO THE POINT] Martin: “Point taken.”

The Lonely/the Web

The Lonely and the Web sometimes affect Martin to similar degrees.

In season 3, when Martin is getting used to reading statements for the first time, most of them leave him emotionally affected: MAG084, MAG088, MAG090,

MAG095: Martin: “S-S-Statement… done.” [HEAVY BREATHING & TREMBLING AS MARTIN STEADIES HIMSELF] “I don’t like recording these. There. I-I said it.”,

MAG098: Martin: [Panting] “End of statement.” [Deep breath] “I, um, I think I might need to sit down. Oh. Yeah, I am. Right. I don’t, uh, I’m not really sure if these are actually getting easier or harder. I mean I don’t feel –”

Only the last two statements he reads are remarkably easier. This might be a hint that Martin is just getting used to reading them, but the quote from MAG098 seems to contradict that. Either way, it’s likely not a coincidence that those last two happen to be the Lonely and the Web:

MAG108: Martin: “Statement ends.” (exhale) “That wasn’t so bad…”

MAG110: Martin: “Statement ends.” [...] “I mean, I think it sounds like a Jurgen Leitner book. About spiders. Hm. Good John didn’t have to read this one, anyway. I know he’s not a fan. Although, this one wasn’t too bad, actually! I – yeah. Anyway.”

In season 5, there are two powers’ Domains that actually affected Martin mentally, as opposed to only physically: the Lonely’s, in 170 (and arguably 186), and, depending on your interpretation, in 172, when Martin went exploring without knowing why he did so.

Proximity

Martin investigates a lot of the Web statements during season 1 to 3 (in other words, when the archive team still researches statements). The only ones he isn’t mentioned in during this period are MAG019 and MAG020, when he’s being harrassed by worms, and MAG081, which Jon records by himself outside of the institute.

Most notably, he’s the one who discovered the statement in MAG114, ‘Cracked Foundations’, which is the one statement in the entire show that sets up the interdimensional properties of HTR.

The Web!Lighter passed through Martin's hands first, before he gave it to Jon.

Similarly, Annabelle mostly spoke to Martin in season 5, despite most other Avatars usually focusing on Jon.

Aesthetics

Apart from the above obviously Web related areas, there are some other aesthetics which are mentioned in connection to both the Web and Martin, throughout canon.

These are describing the Web;

These are describing Martin.

Tapes:

Martin is the only character to treat the tape recorders as friends - any other character is either indifferent, or treats them as enemies.

MAG039: Martin: "I think the tapes have a sort of… low-fi charm."

MAG154 Martin: “Oh. Hi. Hello again.” … (small laugh) “Sorry pal, false alarm this time.”

MAG156 Martin: “Mm? Oh.” [HE LAUGHS, GENTLY.] “Yeah. (rustling paper) I was going to read one. Hate for you to miss it!” [SHORT, FORCED LAUGH, AS HE FLAPS THE STATEMENT AROUND.]

MAG170 Martin: “Oh. Oh, hello. What’s this? Wow, retro! What are you up to, little buddy; just – listening? That’s okay. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.”

MAG190 Jon: "[The tapes] seem to like [Martin]."

Retro:

MAG069: Statement: “I only saw Annabelle Cane once during this period. She wasn’t hard to pick out. She dressed like a vintage clothing store exploded on her, and her short bleach-blonde hair stood out sharply against dark skin.”

MAG160: Jon: “Anyways, don’t tell me the phonebox down there doesn’t appeal to your retro aesthetic.” Martin: “It – might. Maybe.”

MAG163: Annabelle/the Web callying Martin via an old payphone: [ A PHONE RINGS. IT’S NOT THE TINNY, ELECTRONIC SOUND OF A CELLPHONE – NO, THIS IS A TRUE, HEAVY, CLASSIC RING.] Martin: “Uh. John? Uh, J, John – the, uh, payphone that’s – here, for some reason – it’s ringing?”

Hatred of burns:

MAG067: Jack Barnabas’ statement: “I looked up and noticed within the corner of the room, where there had been a spider’s web this morning, there was just a faint wisp of smoke.” “Another held a bag that seemed to be full of candles, while a third had a clear plastic container filled with hundreds of tiny spiders.”

MAG139: Statement by member of Cult of the Lightless Flame: “The Mother of Puppets has always suffered at our hand; all the manipulation and subtle venom in the world means nothing against a pure and unrestrained force of destruction and ruin.” Agnes burned down Hilltop Road.

MAG145: The Web ties Gertrude to Agnes, stopping the Desolation’s ritual (the only Power whose ritual the Web is known to have prevented).

MAG167: Gertrude enlists Agnes’/the Desolation’s help in order to burn her assistant Emma, who was Web aligned.

MAG169: Martin: "Look, I just – don’t want to get burned, all right? It’s, it’s like my least favorite pain ever. [...] I, I legitimately hate burns, alright? They’re, they’re awful, and they scar horribly, and they just – it – it just makes me sick; I, I hate it. Hate it!"

Phrasing:

MAG039: Martin: "I’m trapped here. It’s like I can’t… move on and the more I struggle, the more I’m stuck. [...] It's just that whatever web these statements have caught you in, well, I’m there too. We all are, I think."

MAG079: Martin's poem: "The threads of people walking, living, lovi–"

MAG117: Martin: "This last couple of years, I’ve always been running, always hiding, caught in someone else’s trap, but, but now it’s my trap, and, well, I think it’ll work. I know, I know it’s not exactly intricate, but it felt good leaving my own little web. Oh, oh, Christ, I hope John doesn’t actually listen to these. “Good lord, is Martin becoming some sort of spider person?” No, John, it’s an expression, chill out! Besides, spiders are fine. I mean, yes, people are scared of them, obviously, but actual spiders, they just want to help you out with flies."

MAG167: Jon: “Methinks the Spider dost protest too much.” Martin: “Jon –” Jon: “Joking! Just joking.”

Personality:

How applicable these are depends heavily on how you interpret Martin's own personality, so your mileage may vary.

MAG008: Statement: “Nobody ever said a word against Raymond himself, though, who was by all accounts a kind and gentle soul [...]”

MAG123: Jon: "The Web does seem to have a preference for those who prefer not to assert themselves."

MAG147: Annabelles statement: "I discovered a deep and enduring talent inside myself for lying. [...] My manipulations were not intricate, but they were far beyond what was expected of a child my age, and I have always believed that the key to manipulating people is to ensure that they always under- or overestimate you. Never reveal your true abilities or plans."

Word of God and Annabelle

I kinda wanted to ‘prove’ that Web!Martin had quite a bit of evidence to back it up, hence this header being last. But of course, in this post-canon world, there are a few lines that most obviously confirm the theory:

MAG197: Martin is Web enough to be able to read the 'vibrations', like Annabelle, and see Jon and Basira (the latter being especially notable, as he hadn't known she was there beforehand): [CHITTERING, BUZZING AND HIGH-PITCHED SQUEALS CHANGE CADENCE] Martin: "Wait… Wait, hang on, is that him?" Annabelle: "Yes. I guess you’re better with the Web than we thought." Martin: "And – Wait, ha– No, uh… is that… Basira? He – He’s got Basira with him!" Annabelle: "Yes."

Season 5 Q&A part 2: Jonny: “Essentially, it was fascinating looking at the fandom and, like, the Web!Martin believers, because what they were doing was correctly picking up on hints dropped in the early seasons that were later, like, not exactly abandoned, but it was much more like, ‘Well, no, he does have like aspects of The Web to him, but he is moreover The Lonely.’ And that came about very… very organically, really. Because throughout Season 3 and going into Season 4, we had this conversation and we were like, ‘No, actually he's like-” Alex: “‘It can't be, it cannot be, it must be the other way round’ Yeah.”

(Note that they say “throughout season 3 and going into season 4,” which likely means that season 1, season 2, and at least part of season 3, aka half of the entire show, were written with Web!Martin as an intentional possibility.)

If you read all that, thanks so much! Obviously, Web!Martin never really came to fruition, so it's fine if you still don't like it. This is just a post explaining where it was coming from, at least for me and the other theorists I've spoken to.

#the magnus archives #magnus archives #tma #tma s5 #web!martin #web martin #webmartin #or as jonny called it:#spider!martin #tma theory #tma meta #martin blackwood #martin k blackwood #martin #tma martin #magnuspod #i feel like i say this every time too but #when i say martin lies a lot i dont mean that #in comparison to 'normal people'#i mean that in canon he gets specifically mentioned to lie; at a higher rate than the other protagonists #ditto for everything else. im not speaking about real life people who might have these traits. im doing a media analysis #my own real life bedroom curtains being blue dont mean im depressed but in media sometimes aesthetic themes can be deeper signifiers #and tma especially has some very strong aesthetic themes #ok i think im done talking now. webmartin theories always get me rambling #EDIT: oops i changed a part on mobile and now the formatting is a bit fucked #ill fix it back tomorrow #if anyone cares #EDIT EDIT: ok fixed it

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