#Also in General these made me smile like idk these characters feel so full of every thing and these valentines are so obviously them

[sumbier0]

Utdr characters are truly the characters ever

[xalygatorx]

Back into a Pumpkin | Alastor x Shameless!Fiona!Reader

Requested by @skyfuldreamer (Tumblr's not letting me tag in the usual way for some reason, so I hope this works)

Also on AO3

Summary: On the day you're supposed to secure yourself to Alastor in unholy matrimony, an unexpected and unwelcome guest arrives to dredge up the past you've tried to hide from him.

Warnings: Shame (ironic?), language, reader has a past of drugs and prostitution and a heart of gold, parental abuse (verbal, brief physical in the current story but a past of physical while the reader and said parent were alive) and neglect, Alastor feels moderately inconvenienced that you won't let him kill your cruddy mom LOL, AFAB reader, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

A/N: It might be apparent idk but I've yet to watch Shameless, so this is a quick character research job. :') I do have an ongoing crush on Emmy Rossum though, so that's helped me power through. Hope you enjoy. x

You'd made your peace a long time ago about never telling Alastor the full breadth of the life you led topside. The life you led before you'd died, fallen into Hell, and were actually given license to live for yourself the first time…dead.

You've had a complicated existence at best.

But that's all behind you now. Today, you're getting married.

Let's get one thing clear, you weren't surprised to end up in Hell after dying. You were surprised it existed at all, to be honest, but you weren't surprised that was where you were tossed after being rejected at the pearly gates. You'd done a lot in life to accrue your fair share of sins and, apparently but also not surprisingly, the "why" behind those sins didn't factor in.

You weren't kind to your body, but neither was anyone else. You smoked, you drank, you hit harder drugs to cope for a while, and then got painstakingly clean, remaining so by the skin of your teeth—whatever that saying meant. Your body was riddled with poison by the time you went.

Not only that, but you let other people use you the way you used drugs. For a price. A price that wasn't quite respectable, but it was enough to make sure your little brothers and sisters had lunches to take to school, new backpacks that wouldn't fall apart in the middle of the hall like yours had in fifth grade, and a shot at life you weren't given.

You weren't ashamed for doing what you had to in order to give them that. For the rest, yes—you still carried that shame with you everywhere you went. Including up the hill to the Hazbin Hotel, where you'd checked in as a resident when being out in Hell's general population with every available narcotic imaginable nearly caused you to relapse.

You'd met the Princess of Hell there—Charlie Morningstar. She'd welcomed you with open arms and a glowing smile. You'd also met her partner, the rest of her staff, and the other guests.

One member of management had been late to the scene of your arrival—he'd been mid-broadcast at the time—and had instead scared the afterlife out of you by materializing right outside your door as you were leaving to go downstairs for dinner. He'd apologized (laughingly), but to this day you were sure he'd done it on purpose.

Back then, you would've never guessed that your heartstopping introduction to the Radio Demon would become anything else. Much less an actual, real relationship. Something you'd never really had for any length of time while you were alive. You'd either not had the bandwidth to handle a relationship, your "side hustles," your legal work, and your kids (siblings) or the men you'd tried dating hadn't had the wherewithal to stick around for you after they learned about your past.

After you'd died, that past was something you'd wanted to leave buried with you on Earth. So you started completely over with a fresh slate and you never told anyone about the life you'd led before. Not even Alastor.

And now, on your wedding day, it's all you can think of.

Maybe because, if you'd done this while alive, your family would be here. You were glad the kids weren't here, of course—they'd have to be dead to attend this ceremony. But, if you were alive, you'd get to have your family around you to celebrate. The family you'd pulled from the gutter yourself. The one you wished every day that you had some way to check on.

You just hoped they were okay. That was the only thing you wanted.

Then again, there were perks to this not taking place while you were still alive. Because with every nice family experience comes the not-nice ones. And there was a reason you'd had to go to such lengths to provide for your siblings—you'd called that reason "Mom" up until you were probably fifteen or sixteen.

Up until she left on benders and only came back when there was a check to cash in. Up until your youngest siblings started calling you "Mom" because they'd hardly been around their birthmother as they grew and developed personalities of their own. Up until you stopped wishing that she'd step up so you could have a shot at a life of your own, at picking goals that didn't just pertain to keeping food in the fridge and the electricity on, and instead just wished she'd stay away once and for all.

You shake off the feeling and it disrupts Vaggie's careful lacing of your corset-style dress from Rosie's. "Sorry," you quickly murmur.

"It's fine, I'm almost done," she tells you and, true to her word, she finishes off her work with a neat little bow and steps back. "There!"

You do an experimental wiggle that she laughs at you for and turn to look at yourself in the mirror nearby. She's done a great job—so did Rosie when she designed this dress. You would've worn a potato sack if it meant you could marry Alastor, but he'd insisted that you have something special for the big day.

You also weren't entirely sure that Rosie would've ever forgiven him had he not allowed her to pitch in and had a sneaking suspicion that had been additional motivation to task her with your dress.

The second she'd had an inch, she'd taken a mile—flowers, decorations for the small Cannibal Town "chapel" venue, a sinner-flesh-free cake, she'd ensured you had it all while still remaining open and attentive to what you wanted when you found it in you to voice it. She was just excited for you both. In a lot of ways, she'd shown you these past months what it would've been like to have an actual mom.

Speak of the devil (or the angel, you'd argue), Rosie's quick rapping at the door precedes her entry and she immediately gushes over how you look.

"Oh my stars, honey! Look at ya!" she half-squeals, spinning one clawed finger in the air as she requests, "Do a li'l turn for me, will ya?"

You indulge her and blush as she literally applauds your appearance, showering you with affectionate praise. Vaggie stands by, just watching the scene unfold with a soft look in her eyes. You know she's thinking back to her own wedding with Charlie and it warms your heart more than words can describe.

"Alright, come on, girls!" Rosie crows, gesturing for you both to proceed out of her parlor, where you've been getting ready for the past couple of hours. "Just about everyone should be settled in their seats 'n' I know Al's all done up and ready, too."

"How's he doing?" you ask as you step out of the room with Rosie and Vaggie, following them to the front of the Emporium to make the short walk to the chapel.

"Oh, he's on Cloud Nine, honey, don't even worry 'bout him," Rosie waves you off with a tittering laugh against a gloved hand. Quietly, she adds just to you, "I get the feelin' that he might be a little somber underneath the happiness though since he's finally gettin' hitched and his mama's, obviously, not here to see it."

Your brow crumples and you nod. "Of course," you murmur back. "Thank you, Rosie. For looking out for him and for me."

"It's my favorite sport, honey," Rosie ribs you as the three of you get into place at the chapel entrance.

The doors are open to ventilate the inside, just like a chapel in the overworld may have been for both your and Alastor's southern hometowns. It hits you with unexpected nostalgia. The tiny chapel is almost comically full of both folks from the hotel and other sinners you and Alastor know separately, not to mention almost the entirety of Cannibal Town. Even Susan's present and behaving…so far.

"Wow, is the entire Pentagram in there?" Vaggie wonders offhand. "Maybe it just looks like it because the building's so small."

"Well, Al wanted to do an announcement in the paper, so I guess that brought a few more people in," you muse to her, your eyes landing on the man himself at the other end of the chapel aisle as you speak.

The second your eyes meet, what little anxiety you'd accrued at the sight of the bustling chapel fades into the background. Despite everything, it's just you and him right now. And that sounds just about perfect.

It's the downward twitch of his smile that makes you realize you're so zoned into your daydreamy state, that you've entirely missed a new "guest" approaching. And then it's Vaggie backing into you, shielding you with her smaller form until you finally turn your head and you hone in on someone shoving past the petite fallen angel to get to you.

Who it is only becomes apparent after they start speaking.

"—believe my own daughter wouldn't invite me to her goddamn wedding," the sinner was ranting. Her words make you pale. "Had to see it in the papers of all places!"

Shocked into vulnerability, you mumble for the first time in decades, "M-Mom?" You're positively dumbstruck. You hadn't even known she'd died.

"Well, obviously!" she snaps at you. Rosie's still standing behind you, not sure what to do or how far this might go. But she doesn't know your mother. She doesn't feel the impending disaster like you do. "But no, not an invite in the mail, not a call, nothing! Ungrateful as ever, Hell hasn't changed you a bit."

You're understandably taken aback on multiple levels. That she's called you "ungrateful." That she's acting as though this is your typical behavior. That she's not even upset to discover through this wedding announcement that not only is her daughter getting married, but that her daughter is dead. And that's not what she cares about.

Hell hasn't changed her a bit either.

Your lips twist in a snarl and you snap back, "I'm interested to hear what I have to be grateful to you for."

Her hand cracks across your cheek before you can blink. Like she was waiting for a reason to do it. Knowing her, she probably was.

Stunned, you hold your face and bare your teeth at her, old habits rousing from years of "living." Vaggie tries to get back in between you and your mom, but you wave her off as your mother continues to yell horrible things in your face and you take it with a stalwart sort of internalized rage. It's familiar. It's unwelcome. But it protects you.

Distantly, as if through a long tunnel, you hear Rosie shout back at your mother, something she's said setting Rosie off and making her abandon her attempt to allow you to handle the situation how you see fit.

And, when you snap back at your mom again and she raises her fist to you this time, you see the red and black-gloved hand of your fiance snatch her wrist in mid-air.

It feels like someone's blessedly (or not) removed the cotton from your ears as sound floods back in and you hear in full all the horrendous things your mother is shouting at you, at Rosie, and now at Alastor, too, for intervening.

"Get your fuckin' hands off me!" she shouts up into his face, either having no idea who she's speaking to right now or simply not caring.

The only reason he hasn't wiped the road with her is because he's put two and two together that she's your mother. That said, he'll first want the go-ahead from you to do so. It's only polite.

"Oh-ho! Au contraire," Alastor tuts down at her as he places himself firmly between you two. You rest your hands against his back to remind him you're there and maybe ground him enough to not cannibalize your disgrace of a mother before the wedding. After is to be determined at this point. "It's you who must learn to keep your hands to yourself, it seems."

"She's my daughter!" your mom fires back, yanking her wrist out of Alastor's grip and only because he allows it.

"And, had you not interrupted proceedings," Alastor counters smoothly, wiping the hand that restrained your mother's wrist against his jacket with no shortage of disdain, "she would be my wife."

"Listen, before I'm anyone's anything, I'm mine, alright?" you butt in, the streams of "my, my, my" making you feel like you've lost your agency all over again, if in small doses.

Your mother, unsurprisingly, ignores you, but you see Alastor's ears flatten a little with chagrin as he flashes you an apologetic look over his shoulder. You offer him a smile that immediately fades into horror as your mom speaks up again. One more damning time.

"Surprised anyone would want her after everything she did," your mom huffs with superiority, sneering at you past Alastor's arm. Don't, is all you can think even as she undoes all your good work to start over in the span of a sentence. "You know you're just the end of the parade of men she's had in her bed, right? You're just the first one she's opened her legs for without a fee."

Horrified, you feel numb as you whisper, "That's… That's not—"

"Unless you're loaded, then I get why she's tricked you into this," your mom continues to muse, sizing Alastor up with a glance before looking at you again. "How long do you think this'll last, kid? We both know what you're like."

"What I'm like?" you repeat, your hollow voice gaining fervor as your demonic form threatens to tear through you. "What I'm like?!"

"You're nothing but a selfish, flea-bitten little whore who spent the best years—the only years—of your life high or with a dick in your mouth," she snarls, trying to get past Alastor to face off with you again. He holds an arm out to stop her, but he's not looked at you since she started in on you again.

You're sure it's over. Just like that. And then the world starts to feel like it's caving in. So what more do you have to lose?

"You know what," you grit out with a harsh laugh. "You're right. I got into drugs and I sold myself on street corners. That's why I'm here. And you know what else?" Your voice becomes throatier as your eyes ignite red and your canines lengthen into fangs, your form barely restrained in your anger. "All of it happened because you were a shit mother with shit priorities who didn't take care of your fucking kids!"

"You shut your wh—"

"No!" you cried, furious as you felt hot tears starting to bead at the corners of your eyes. "I'm not going to! Everything I did at least started because I had to raise myself and then my siblings, too! I went to school, worked, did every side job I could find—every side job—and somehow found ways in the middle of all that to figure out how to be a mom! And you have no idea how much that fucked me up! I didn't even know until I died because that was the first free minute I'd had in years to think about myself!

"I 'whored around' because your kids needed lunch money. They needed new folders for school. A new set of kneepads for volleyball practice," you say, losing steam and wanting to get away from the source of your abuse before she sees you cry. Because you know her still and you know from a tender age that she sees tears as a sign of victory.

To Alastor, you choke out a whispered, "I'm sorry," and hurry past Vaggie and Rosie.

As you pass Rosie, she slips you the Emporium key to let yourself in and catch your breath, fix yourself back up, whatever you need. You flash her a grateful, wobbly smile and head straight there, trusting the others to smooth things over with the attendees. You honestly aren't sure what you'll come back to—maybe some of them will linger and the ceremony will go on as planned.

Or, more likely now that he knows how filthy you are, Alastor will have changed his mind and proceed to send them all home.

That's the thought that finally sends you over the edge and you're able to at least close the Emporium door behind you before you burst into tears.

As you walk back to the parlor you prepped in, you stifle sobs against your hands, eyes wide with something close to panic. As you shoulder open the parlor door and close it behind you, twisting the lock, you wonder at the unbearable weight in your chest—back again after so long without it.

You aren't ashamed of taking care of your brothers and sisters—your kids in the end—however you needed to at the time. Whatever you had to do, you did, and you're glad that—at least when you'd left the world of the living—they'd all been surer-footed and doing okay. You prayed every day to a God you knew at least no longer believed in you that they would continue to lead full, happy lives.

However, hearing those accusations spouted in front of all the folks you've come to know in the Pentagram, who you've come to love and have come to love the you they know down here—in front of the man you've come to adore and who'd adored you in turn—

Well, now you feel shame, pure and thick as shame could be, pooling like slow-acting poison in your belly.

You step over to the vanity Rosie brought in just for you to get ready today and collapse onto the velvet stool.

After a doubtful look at your reflection, you're pretty sure you have all the aesthetic qualities of a raccoon without the inherent "awww" factor. You swallow against a raw sensation in your throat as you locate one of the face wipes Vaggie used on you earlier and start trying to clear away the smudges around your eyes.

There's a quick knock at the door and you're not clear-headed enough to guess who it might be. Rosie, you imagine, as you think back to her pitying expression as you left the chapel entryway with her store key. You try to stomach her pity as something kind and not fall deeper into shame for having seen it, as much as you may want to.

Whoever it is knocks again and you sigh. "Yes?" you ask, grimacing at the rough sound of your voice.

"May I come in?"

Alastor's voice, usually something that inspires warmth from your crown to your toes, makes you curl in on yourself a little. He's surely here to call it off. He could've just left, you know that, but he's a gentleman through and through. He wanted to carry out your relationship properly and that's how he'll likely want to end it as well.

You steel yourself for what you consider the inevitable. Might as well get it over with. You surely can't feel any worse than you do now.

That's a lie though. You can and you're sure you will once it's official.

"Okay," you say, continuing your cleanup before you remember that you locked the door upon entry.

Before you can stand, Alastor's shadow weaves in through the cracks and flips the latch. The man, himself, is soon to follow. Alastor steps through the door he opens just enough to come inside, replacing the door and the lock once he joins you. You find it difficult to look at him, knowing what's coming, so you go back to smearing away teary streaks of cosmetics from your skin.

He's silent as he walks further into the room, stopping behind your perch in front of the vanity. The mirror is angled in such a way that you see most of him, but the top edge cuts off right at his bowtie, so his expression remains—for better or worse—a mystery to you.

Well, you're sure he's smiling certainly. But whatever accompanies that smile or lays beneath it remains unknown for now.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice uncharacteristically careful.

You sniffle a little and shrug. "I'm…not really sure yet," you admit, deciding to be honest. "I'm kind of shaken up. I was angry, but that's kind of on the backburner now."

"You've every right to be," he murmurs and you can hear in his quiet storm of a tone that he's angry, too. You're not yet sure at whom though. There's a long pause that hangs between you before he gestures to the armchair nearby. "May I?"

"You need to ask?" you wonder, implying your permission.

He hums and adjusts the chair's position to angle toward the vanity before he seats himself. You sneak a furtive look his way, wary of what expression you'll see on his face, but needing to know at the same time what sort of conversation this will be. You barely handled the whiplash of seeing your mom again. The whiplash of a similar conversation with Alastor might do you in.

As ever, he's difficult to read. His smile is thin and perfunctory. He's settled himself in the armchair with one elbow resting against the arm nearest you as he leans his jaw into his palm. The metal tips of his gloves drum lightly against his cheekbone as he thinks, staring down momentarily at his lap before his carmine gaze casts up to you.

It's reassuring that his features immediately soften upon looking at you, but you keep yourself from getting too hopeful that things can go back to how they were. Maybe he just feels sorry for you.

Alastor clears his throat and your stomach sinks. "I am, admittedly, not the best at issuing comfort," he tells you, an early apology woven into his tone. "However, I would try. For you." He tilts his head slightly. "What can I do?"

"You're not—," you find yourself stuttering, almost numb with shock. "…You're not upset with me?"

His eyes widen and his smile wobbles, nearly wiped clean by bewilderment. "Darling, why on earth would I be upset with you?" he asks, and even in your anxiety-ridden, self-doubting mind, there's no doubt he's genuine.

"Because I—" You pause when your voice cracks to try and gather yourself, your hands falling into your lap and still clutching the mascara-smudged makeup wipe. Alastor shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "I didn't tell you." A deep, long-suffering sigh falls past your lips as your head hangs. "I couldn't. Not because of you, but I…"

You force your shoulders to square up and it's an old habit that comes back with minimal effort even when you feel like falling apart.

"Everything I did, I did for my family. Not her, but my brothers and sisters. They may as well have been my kids, but I started taking care of them when I was still a kid, myself," you mumble as you run a hand over your ruddy cheek. "I don't regret that. But… I know how it seems, even without the reasons behind it. It's taboo in my time, let alone yours, and I just…" You wince and curl in on yourself just a little more. "I just wanted you to see me. I never got to be me while I was alive. There was too much else to worry about.

"But I shouldn't have hidden my past from you," you finally admit. "It's basically lying, isn't it? And no matter what reasons I had, I was being selfish when I decided not to bring it up. So… I'm sorry. And I understand if you've changed your mind about marrying me because of it."

Alastor studies you through your explanation, noting the shame he'd never seen before pinching your features and sorely wanting to go back outside and turn the sinner who'd reduced you to this to a pulp. However, knowing you as he did, he'd abstained and let Rosie and Vaggie handle her while he went to the Emporium after you.

He's still holding out some measure of hope though that you'll let him off her in some way, shape, or form. Call it a wedding present to you both.

Tsking at your closing statements, Alastor declares, "Whacky nonsense. You've nothing to apologize for and, with your permission, of course, I still very much intend to marry you."

Shocked, you meet his eyes again. "But…," you stammer.

"But nothing," Alastor says with an almost boyish tilt to his smile.

You're sure he still doesn't get it though, so you say, "B-But, I'm… I'm filthy!"

Alastor scoffs a little and hooks his fingers along the underside of the armchair to pull it with him as he scoots closer to you. As he plucks a fresh makeup wipe from the box on the vanity, he says, "It's just a few smears of makeup, dear, no need to be dramatic."

"That's not what I mean and you know it," you mumble even as you let him take your chin and angle your head to start cleaning the streaks you missed from your eyelids and cheeks. It's all you can do not to collapse into him and weep, the sheer amazement and relief you feel from the absence of his rejection overtaking you as strongly as your previous grief.

"Well, it's the only bit of 'filth' I see," he murmurs as he sets the wipe aside and tugs your makeup bag closer to him instead, unzipping it and rifling around. "It's not even filth. And neither is your past, my dear."

Alastor pulls out the products he wants from the bag and arranges them in a line on the vanity before dutifully beginning to replace what you cried off. He's personally content either way, makeup or not, but he knows you'll feel better if you return to the chapel looking put back together. So he does it.

You just stare at him in awe and surprise for a moment or two before finally commenting offhand, "I didn't know you knew how to do this," as he carefully lines your eyes.

"What, you think I simply wake up like this?" he teases you.

"Implying you sleep at all," you clap back, but it's with an adoring smile.

"Mm, touché," Alastor murmurs, using one of his claws to ensure he draws you the crispest wings possible before capping the cosmetic and swapping it for mascara. "Now, darling, you always look ravishing, but you look exceptionally so today. But if you wouldn't mind, I'd very much like to marry you before the day is out. Is that agreeable?"

You laugh softly at his theatrics. "I suppose so," you agree with a playful, put-on sigh.

"You suppose so, do you?" he chuckles, tidying up the vanity before holding out his hands to help you up. You let him and he tugs you into an embrace, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. "I suppose I'll take it."

"Thanks, Al," you murmur against his chest, wanting to burrow into his arms but also not wanting to both undo his fine work on your makeup or get any on his suit. You still feel like a hot mess, but you guess if he can look at you and see something to cherish, maybe you can try and see it from his point of view. "I love you."

You can practically feel the warmth radiate down from the smile he gives you. "And I, you, sweetheart," he says softly, keeping you close to his side as he escorts you from the parlor. "I'll love you even more if you let me paint you a heart with that wretched woman's entrails."

And suddenly things are blessedly back to your (favorite) version of normal.

[httpskuzuu]

Cello

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

I am spanish and I have no idea of english, I translated this by google so I am sorry if there are mistakes, idk

it's the first time I write for him so it's probably that fyodor is quite out of character, sorry for that too.

tw: kidnapping, yandere, manipulation¿, mentions of god, I think, stockholm syndrome, fyodor is a general tw.

I have been a whole month kidnapped by Fyodor.

The first three weeks there I was in a dark and empty basement, typical of a horror movie. I don't remember much from when I was in the basement, my brain decided that the best thing for me would be to forget everything I experienced there, I only remember very specific things. I remember that he didn't talk to me until the first week, and that I stopped crying on the fifth day. Since I stopped crying the emotions disappeared, there was fear, of course, but at a lower intensity than at the beginning.

After my stay in the basement he decided to take me upstairs, he gave me a room to myself and from then on all our interactions were cold and distant, almost null most of the time.

Today I decided to go back to writing, a hobby I had before I was kidnapped. It was relaxing and made me feel a little better, it made that emotional block that I had been carrying with me since the fifth day here disappear for a few seconds.

Everything was going well until I heard his cello being played, that made me not be able to continue writing. I don't know why I couldn't continue, maybe the simple fact of knowing that Fyodor was just a door away from me made me disconcerted. Now, for some reason, I am about to open that door that separated us.

I opened the door cautiously. The room is moderately large, with Fyodor in the middle, seated and holding the cello between his legs. His slender hands play the chords of a song, unknown to me, with such elegance, he has an amazing composure as his fingers lightly press the strings of the cello. His face is expressionless and cold, but suddenly he looks at me out of the corner of his eye.

The silence is suddenly deafening, with the atmosphere too tense to be true. Fyodor stops playing his cello and looks directly at me.

"I'm sorry, did I break your concentration?" I break the silence in when it becomes too much for me. It's been a while since he's spoken, not in full sentences, at least.

His gaze is different, I can't describe it accurately. I've never been able to describe Fyodor accurately.

"No, I was simply thinking about the meaning of your actions." Was it curiosity I'm noticing in his tone? I really don't know, I'm not that good at reading people.

Fyodor put his cello aside and approaches me calmly. He's much taller than me, much to my disgrace. I can smell his cologne on him, it's heady and expensive, I wouldn't mind smelling it any longer.

He smiled slightly, a fake smile, his eyes didn't move from his cold expression.

"There's not much to think about it." Even I didn't know why I walked in. "I guess I wanted to hear you play your cello closer, it sounds beautiful."

I noticed a small change in his expression, now he was really smiling, not only his mouth but also his eyes formed a smile. He keeps his hands folded behind his back as he looks at me intently. I feel nervous about his whole body language, and more so about the fact that he hides his hands, he can perfectly kill me with them in just seconds and I wouldn't see it coming.

"You were looking at me, weren't you? And yet you didn't join me. It's strange that you want to look at me."

The mere thought of approaching him and hearing him play gave me chills. I just shrugged, hoping that would be answer enough for him.

"Will you keep playing?"

"Of course, would you like to join me this time?" Fyodor's smile softened as he said those words, and I, surprisingly, returned the same smile.

"Sure."

I followed him to the center of the room, he sat in his chair and I sat on the floor beneath him. He feeling of inferiority didn't take long to come from being in this position, and more so with his gaze fixed on me, making me feel like I was prey.

I listen attentively to Fyodor's melody, while playing with my hair from time to time to try to calm the nerves of being under Fyodor. My gaze is riveted on him, I feel like a believer watching his God. From the perspective below, Fyodor's features stood out much more, making everything even more enigmatic.

Fyodor stopped playing and looked at me with those violet eyes, pale and piercing, calculating yet peaceful. "What is it, маленькая мышь?" he looked like he could almost read my mind. "What's in that pretty head of yours?" He almost seemed to want to annoy me by the way I looked at him, and more so when he kept a playful smile on his lips.

"Nothing important…" I felt too helpless against Fyodor, against the closest thing to a god in this world. I'm on the ground in front of the Russian, completely vulnerable and helpless, I'm easy prey for him.

"Lying to your God?" his hand came to rest on my hair and began to slowly stroke it. The first affectionate touch I had had in this whole month, it was inevitable to enjoy it and it was inevitable to close my eyes so I could feel it better.

"I'm sorry…" I know very well that Fyodor could kill me simply by activating his ability right now, but for some reason I simply couldn't feel fear about it. I simply stopped bothering and let myself go.

"You belong to me, моя любовь." His hand went down to my cheek and I just leaned against it. "I will never let you go, мой дорогой." He seemed to be talking more to himself than to me, but I nodded anyway.

"I know, I won't try to leave." And I'm not lying, I don't have it in my plans to try, I know well what Fyodor is capable of.

"You have no choice." I opened my eyes slowly to see his figure looming over me, he had a sadistic smile on his face, and leaned closer. His eyes moved to my lips. "If you try to leave, you will be punished."

I don't like that word, punish, it makes me feel like a helpless child. That was a bitter thought, to think of Fyodor as a father angry at his son for disobeying, to think of Fyodor as a God angry at his worshipper for not having faith.

I nodded again as I snuggled even more against his hand. Comfortable enough to forget those thoughts, comfortable enough to forget the situation I was in.

[halfusek]

man. batdr archives. what

i hate them

sorry im gonna go full on hater mode here because oh my god? oh my god

i’ve got a sneaking suspicion that this came out now as damage control for the AI thing because 1. it wasn’t included in the game all along like BATIM’s archives were and 2. this tweet

like was it thrown together in such a rush that they forgot a whole ass character?

or it is a joke and was a planned action half a year after the game came out but eh who knows

either way this is not what i’m here to rant about (cuz im sure this is gonna turn to a rant)

it’s about bad writing, bad exposition and bad game design. buckle up!

i see what they mean with the smile being a challenge to create, you can see in countless animations for fansongs how different artists tackled that and for one i think they did that very well

however. why the clothes exactly? is it just a meta reason with no reasoning in-universe whatsoever?

and look i’m not a fan of the ink demon having a voice (though i respect the craft behind it, the voice actor is very talented, it’s just a personal preference) BUT if you made the ink demon talk you should by logical extension either make toon bendy talk as well or explain why the hell he’s talking? i can see it being distracting but there are characters that have squeaky annoying voices in games and they’re fine (and it’s not like toon bendy is around the player for a super long time)

i dunno what logic this whole thing operates on anymore but if joey commissioned the ink machine then it should be his and arch gate got all his shit after he passed away so idk what retrieve is supposed to mean here

but it could just be badly written sentences and the archive is full of those (once again making me think that the thing was done in a rush)

that’s fair i guess

yall did make him look like a generic demon tho

i mean... it could be worse? if the goal was to make him look out of place then it was achieved but idk if it’s actually a good thing

i do like the bit about Wilson influencing how things look under him being in control of the cycle (though they have a very silly definition about what the cycle is but more about that later)

dude. the beast bendy design was already bad in BATIM and they made it even worse in BATDR like what TToTT

its just an angry mountain of muscles, the batim design at least had that leg injury thing going on which made moving with front arms make more sense, this dude right here is just a big inky gorilla (and not in a good way)

playing as the final form in on itself isnt a bad idea, does sound quite fun, personally tho i did not enjoy the very ending on the game

i dunno it just felt weird and all the other characters randomly appearing and the lost ones attacking being so awkward and ink demon acting as if they could kill you... nah man i wasn’t feeling it

okay so lets get this straight

cycle = a series of events that repeat

breaking the cycle would mean doing something different and stopping the cycle from continuing (so what... wilson was doing actually)

saying that making it restart again is what breaking it means is just??? no?

“satisfying face reveal” welp. each to their own XD

i see their purpose theme and thats neat and all but man do i hate how henry in this game is just. there and how some stranger is the person helping him get out of his horrible fate like its sooooooo unsatisfying

yeah she got more personality ill give her that

but she’s not a beacon of hope. she’s a beacon of tearing away the satisfaction of defeating a villain that we as the player worked hard towards

and uh... isn’t getting thrown into a horrible dimension full of monsters that audrey isn’t familiar with and is supposed to be freaked out about a bad moment to introduce a familiar face? like from a writing perspective, because it happens nearly instantly as chapter one starts

shouldn’t audrey be unmotivated then and struggling to figure out the world on her own? the player should also be haunted at this world, like it’s a horror game bestie ! don’t make me comfortable

well glad to hear the confirmation on that batds is happening in pararel to batdr

but his involvement in the main story is honestly such a nothing burger

is he there just so you can put batdr on the “can you pet the dog” site?

oh ok so what you’re basically putting down here is that he’s a boring perfect extremely rich guy, wasn’t even a bad father, completely stripping wilson’s arc of depth, cool, was afraid there would be something of substance powering the backbone of the plot of this game

and saying that both joey and wilson are worse people because theyre cringefail at business XDDDDDDDDDDD

ok here is something that im glad they addressed because ive been wondering about it - how audrey forgot that joey was her dad and how did she end up working at arch gate then

i suppose it implies that there’s something we might still learn/theorize about it, like for example if it was the machine drawing her in or gent wanting to get the machine back and manipulating things into place from behind the scenes

i really wonder how you can enter in and out the ink realm unnaturally but good to mention why he looks like that if he’s supposed to be nathan’s son

you cant just say that a character was important to the story, its not gonna happen from words

how is she important exactly? she just talks and uh.. helps audrey make the drink that makes you fall asleep? man that section of the game was Weird

i do want to like her, she seems nice and there could be interesting things to her backstory but as for the plot she really didn’t do much, sorry, betty

if you wanna say that pushing the plot forward by giving audrey that drink and then alice appearing outta nowhere and kidnapping here is a good big contribution then idk what to tell you... its such a bad way to make the plot progress, it was so confusing because characters were behaving as in forced to do Things to Progress the Plot (especially Audrey drinking that thing at all like seriously girl?? and Alice appearing comically at the last sip like wooooooow are you for real)

ah. so they were attempting a redemption arc

[saying this he didn’t threw aside the large rock. he was right to be holding the large rock]

this sucks man! what did joey help correct exactly? created more ink people to suffer eternally? wow, dude, thanks

also lmao what learned from his mistakes, did you HEAR his dialogue at the end of batim?? (an audrey can be heard right after that scene as well so isnt his whole change of heart supposed to be happening around here + allison has already been added to the squad)

it’s just... it’s just such bullshit man

you can make us like joey as a character but don’t you fucking dare make us like him as a person

bad. just bad

(aaaaaand this is the part that made me realize i wish the archives just. weren’t added! wow! i’m even surprised with myself with how much I Don’t Like them)

WHAT flaws??? hello??? please give it a big thinking and tell me what flaws does Audrey have im shaking and crying

also is her “deep dark past” supposed to just be like bEINg JoEY DRewS DAUghtER OOOoooOOo? lmao. wow so dark wow so deep

i dont know why this story needed a fresh pair of eyes because the story is that audrey is joeys daughter and that wilson is nathan archs son and that bendy is bendy. wow so deep so dark and complicated!!!!!!!11!!111

also whats the point of fresh eyes if you welcome us with familiar faces?

also sorry to break this to you but its not hard to stand out from the kinda cast that is presented to us in this game. sorry i cant decide if i care more about audrey or random employee number 24 with a random problem that i have 0 reason or time to get attached to. i seriously cant decide

suuuure we were so muddled xD oh you got us so good you sneaky little cheeky little quirky little

cant fucking believe we almost had a proper nathan arch jr and a secret one eyed villain that there was so much hype about and theories that they obviously tried to deliever here

its speculative but. knowing that they take inspiration from fan theories - they admitted to it and ex employees said so, i think we would have to be in some serious denial to think that @lucky-dreamfisher​‘s one-eyed bendy theory wasn’t meant to be represented here with wilson’s character

ALSO THIS NARRATIVE. THIS NARRATIVE HAS ZERO- NO, NEGATIVE AMOUNT OF COMPLEXITY

GOD

this story makes so much LESS sense based on what you said! aaaaaaaa we were so close to greatness

what is so wrong with not resetting the cycle then?

not that im a fan of how wilson was approaching things, he very clearly wanted to make himself the ruler of this realm and have power over everyone but sounds like that sure beats living under ink demons reign?

but also idk if this is entirely true like in batim chapter 5 we can see that lost ones were capable of making that lost harbour and sammy is later mentioned to have mastered a special ability too so??

i wish we learned more about the pit because it sounds quite interesting and we were working hard towards getting there and finally didnt get to see it at all (a shame! very unrewarding to the player)

im not gonna comment on reverting here cuz its a serious mental thing im not knowledgable about

i haaaate this

you... this is not how exposition is done!

show don’t tell?? how about SHOW don’t TELL??

what in the goddamn. you can’t just pull that outta your ass and say yep. this is how it is. bro. dude.

im referring here to the ink machine bit, the previous sentences can actually be seen in the story

but the design does not reflect what is written here

and they are doing so much of that in these archives, this telling of the story in a place that is not meant for telling of the story, you do that IN the STORY. rarghrgrh

surprise i found another nice thing: confirmation on that alice was the one who mutilated the butcher gang, cuz i dont think that was ever confirmed before but at least you can find implications of that in the game so its fine to outright confirm that here, good job about that

i dont know what theyre on about carley, she doesnt really look like that to me and ive looked at her model in the archives, in the files and at peoples renders of her and i just dont see it

but i guess it might mean it was like a suit that someone got stuck in- FNAF?!>!!>!?

no way. no fucking way

we got robbed what ToT

he was removed in favour of WHAT???? AMOK????

dude there ill be real. there’s barely anything that is worth keeping there instead of having him play a bigger role

and im not even that big on sammys character! hes one of my least liked characters personally even! but at least there is something more to him and just man after 5 years you could have given him more than just a dumb wilhelm scream joke, that almost feels like a spat in the face lmao

thanks for again confirming something though with that flow thing, as we noticed sammy uses gaps in the wall in batim chapter 2 to travel around the place

why not have him teach audrey the flow ability? imagine how could that would have been

im just baffled this exist but sammy apparently had to be cut out

lol

lmao

moving on

my brother in christ why are you making it a mystery if she will appear, she literally appeared in every game so far with quite major roles

also... what layers? sure in batim with her story (susie’s story) there sure been some layers, susie’s story in batim is probably aside from joey’s story the deepest character arc they got

but alice in batdr? she’s there to play a stupid game she set herself up to lose, get mad at that (eh?) shoot you and die

what layers, really

gender

but also idk i found the fight annoying and random, you could throw it out and not much of value would be lost, put sammy back in

YOU MADE HIM NOTHING

YOU TOOK A PERFECTLY FINE ENEMY AND GAVE IT ANXIETY THATS WHAT YOU DID /j /ref

idk if id describe the ink demon as putting the player on edge because he doesnt actually roam the place

you see a grey overlay on your screen and you need to hide or you die... which gets tiring fast and annoying

you totally could still have lurker (even if just restricted to some areas) as a free roaming monster

and the unlikely ally thing is just so bland like yeah he’s there, we know nothing about him aside from that he eats hearts, incredibly charming fella 

not thrilled by his design either but that issue i already had with the first trailer but i guess they just sticked with that

bendy devs not use mental illnesses as derogatory terms challenge

i like the crab boy design, he’s sillay

bro forgot a texture tho

so yeah not. happy with the archives

sorry if im like overly negative but ive honestly tried to give this sequel (because despite what they were saying it IS undoubtedly a sequel) my best assumptions and it turns out its nearly all the worst assumptions

its annoying, im annoyed

they should hire a writer to help them get this mess together, maybe get adrienne in on it, i dunno, because clearly if they need to be specific and not leaving things open like in batim, then they arent managing very well

they even fucking killed harold

[layla4567]

"Magic night"

Colin Zabel x Latina reader

Summary: It was your second date with Colin, you started dating for a few days but you still didn't know each other well enough. You are a foreigner, you came from far away to start a new life away from the problems of your native country. Colin invited you to a bar for a drink, a quiet evening, or not?

Warning: Slightly suggestive, alcoholism, a little angst ,mention of economic crisis, impoverishment of a country and coup, also spanish words but don't worry they will have their translation.

A/N: I want to clarify that I never saw this series (so sorry) but I wanted to write something with this character because he seems very soft, and yes, this is quite specific but I really wanted the protagonist to know Spanish idk why

..............................................................................................................................

Sitting in Colin's car seat, I was accommodating the folds of my skirt for the fourth time somewhat anxious, despite being the 2 date I always got a little nervous when I saw him, I just couldn't help but feel a tickle in the pit of my stomach. Apart from the dark blue jean skirt, I was wearing a light black fabric shirt and my hair was somewhat messy with a flower-shaped clip, I knew he liked it. Completing my outfit was wine red lipstick and I was wearing black wedge boots that hugged my entire calf almost to the knee.

The detective who was trying to pay attention to the road could not help noticing from his peripheral vision your hands move, smiling with a free hand he took yours in his

I was looking through the window absently when his soft touch made me turn my head in surprise, fist at his hand and then at his face.

"Is everything alright, darling?"- He smiled as he kept looking ahead.

He had just called me darling? Oh I think that's another thing I like about him to add to the list. Their cute nicknames.

"Yeah, no worries"

His hand was still caressing mine, his fingers tracing slow circles on the back of my hand and on my knuckles. His warmth was making me melt but I tried to keep my composure.

Every time I went out in a car I liked to look out the window and see the buildings or the landscape in general. The sun was going down and the clouds were dyed in orange and pink colors, it looked like a work of art. Focused on the sky, I had not realized that we were arriving at the bar. A neon sign illuminated the car and our faces, there were tables outside and inside.

Colin opened my door and held out a careful hand to help me out.

"You look very beautiful today"- He said innocently

I looked at him with wide and surprised eyes while a shy radiant smile appeared on my face. He couldn't even imagine what those words had done to me, or the hours I spent trying to find the perfect outfit. I tried not to show my flushed cheeks

"Do you really think so?"- I said as if trying to play it down and feigning confidence, although that phrase meant the world to me.

"Of course yes, I'm always honest"

Now Zabel offered me his arm cavalierly inviting me to put his hand in it to walk together towards the entrance

"Well now I'll be honest, that blue suit looks radiant on you"- I told him flirtatious

And it was true, he was wearing a matching teal blue suit, a plain white shirt, and a black tie that matched beautifully. I was so used to seeing him in his typical black coat and dark shirts that seeing him in other colors made everything about him stand out.

Colin chuckled sheepishly as we entered the bar. The walls inside were painted a blood red while the freshly varnished wooden floor shone like a mirror. The bar was full of bottles and cocktails that the bartender was masterfully preparing. There was also a live band playing, a bass player, a drummer and the lead singer. I loved live bands, well, I loved music in general. I remember that for my 15th birthday my mother had bought me a karaoke machine, she almost instantly regretted it, I wouldn't stop using it in my room at full volume.

We went to the bar and took a seat, the music was nice. The bartender asked us what we were going to drink. Colin had a margarita and I had a gin and tonic.

"Wow, you seem to like strong drinks"- he said

"Over time you get used to it"- I laughed

While the boy in the red bowtie was preparing the drinks as if he were a juggler in a circus, Colin and I began to chat.

"So tell me... what prompted you to move to this place?"

A shadow darkened my gaze and I suddenly became serious, I lowered my head a bit uncomfortable

The detective noticed this so he quickly said

"I'm sorry, I know it's a somewhat personal question, you don't have to answer it if you don't want to."- An expression of sorrow crossed his eyes.

"No it's ok I just-"

I wanted to continue but I felt the weight of a rock in my throat. Even so I took a breath and answered

"My country had just come out of a coup d'état, the whole world had been left poor, we hardly had to eat. I remember my mother crying, the screams of the military. It was horrible"

I closed my eyes so that the tears that were about to appear would not be seen. Colin sympathetic caressed my arm rubbing it from top to bottom which gave me the strength to continue.

"Thank God my family was not harmed. When I grew up I promised my family that one day I would raise enough money to help them financially, even if it meant moving to another country."

Zabel looked at me giving me all the attention in the world and his face showed an expression of anguish as if everything I've experienced had been experienced by him too.

"I'm so sorry about all that"

"Thank you Colin.."- I was able to genuinely smile until my eyes were slanted as if they were two parallel lines, it was comforting to know that someone was listening to me without judging me

The bartender had already finished the drinks and served them to us. We thank him with a smile

"However, now I'm here and I'm not doing so bad, and the best thing is that I'm talking to the most handsome detective in town"- I told him while taking the straw between my lips and winking

I liked to make him nervous

He looked down at his drink laughing as his cheeks flushed slightly. Bingo

"Well, enough about me, now I want to hear from you, you're working on a new case, right?"

"Yes, in fact, I'm trying to make progress on that"

And so he began to talk to me about the details of the case, his co-worker and everything. It seemed like an interesting but dangerous job at the same time, I looked at him carefully while he spoke calmly, I couldn't help but worry about him every time he talked about the injured people who were involved in detective work.

"You're a very brave man"

He looked at me surprised and confused.

"Why?"

"Well, with everything you told me, it seems like you fear for your life all the time."- I tried to sound funny but I was really worried.

"Well you are partly right, this profession is dangerous but don't worry, I know how to defend myself"- He said with a smile to reassure me and put his hand on mine

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

We continued to drink our cocktails, mine was almost empty and it was getting to my head a bit because I could feel the heat of the alcohol in my blood, especially on my face.

Without warning and laughing at who knows that I asked Colin

"Do you want me to teach you words in Spanish?"

He laughed enchanted

"Okay, miss y/n, teach me"

"Do you know how to say party in Spanish?"- I said as I moved my straw in circles inside the glass

He shook his head, amused by my behavior.

"It's said: Fiesta, F-I-E-S-T-A"- I pronounced it slowly so that he can understand me and repeat it

Colin repeated the phrase with a cute American accent, it sounded adorable.

"And job it's trabajo"

The handsome detective tried to repeat the word but failed pathetically, then annoyed and getting closer I told him

"No, no no, not like that"- I gently grasp his jaw to force him to look at me.

"Look at my lips, tra-ba-jo"

He didn't expect that contact with my skin and even less when I told him to look at my lips, he immediately blushed and tried to repeat the word just to give me the satisfaction of listening to him and knowing that he learned the Spanish lesson like a good student. I felt like a preschool teacher

"Yaaay muy bien! oh that's another word haha"-I laughed nasally- "and means very good"

"It seems to me or are you a little drunk?"

I gasped

"Naah, it's your imagination"- I made a gesture with my hand like shooing a fly

Colin seemed entranced by my presence because he kept laughing in amusement.

I leaned my elbows on the bar and laughing like a schoolgirl I told him

"Guess what it means mi amor"

"I-I don't know"

"Oh c'mon. You really don't know?"

"I have no idea"

I framed my face with my hands while blinking flirtatiously.

"Means my love"- I smiled mischievously while biting my lower lip.

The brunette scratched his shirt collar heatedly with an awkward smile.

Suddenly your favorite song started being played by the band

"Ohh my god I love that song! You have to come dance with me!!"- I told him while I grabbed his wrist and dragged him to where the audience was with the musicians.

"Oh I don't think that's a good idea"- Colin said as he resisted my push and sat back down on the stool.

"Pleaseee"- I pouted sadly

"I don't know how to dance, but you go. I see you from here"

"Fineee but you are missing the opportunity to dance with a sexy latina"- I said swaying my hips

I went to the center of the room near where the musicians were playing, waving my arms in the air happily. My confidence was through the roof. I let myself be carried away by the rhythm of the music, moving my legs from one side to the other and my arms making waves while I closed my eyes letting myself go. My clothes were tight to the body highlighting my attributes and my hands ran through my body from head to toe ending on my thighs near my groin while slowly lowering to the ground.

Zabel's eyes widened.

I continued dancing with my eyes closed, my head moved from side to side as did my waist, but in an act of rebellion I went up on stage and grabbed the microphone of the main vocalist.

"What the hell are you doing"- He said irritated and confused

"Oh no, this can't be good"- Colin sighed

"Hellooo amigoos!"- I grabbed the microphone and exclaimed trying to keep my balance

"Tonight I want to dedicate this special song to that pretty boy over there who is sitting at the bar and covering his face"- I said pointing at him shamelessly

The detective covered his eyes with an embarrassed hand and laughed nervously, he wanted the earth to swallow him up

The bassist approached me annoyed and said

"Hey you can't do that he-!"

"Shh!"- I shut him up by putting a finger to his lips - "Now I will sing"

I started to sing a couple of Lady Gaga songs while seductively dancing every movement I did, it was full of elegance and passion, it was in my blood. From time to time he gave Colin provocative glances like a hunter watching his prey. I knew how to dance and capture people's attention, my hips did not stop moving and waving to the rhythm of the songs like a belly dancer, there was not a single inch of my body that I did not move. Sometimes I would bring my attention to my hands either by moving them in circles in the air and gesturing like flamenco dancers or by bringing them to my bust. I think people also liked my voice, I wasn't a professional but I put all my effort and enthusiasm into it. I could hit high notes and some low ones without so much effort.

Detective Zabel didn't know whether to run away or stay to continue enjoying the show, but he looked at me with dreamy eyes and a sparkle of joy.

"Your friend seems funny huh?"

"Uh excuse me, what?"- Colin turned his head in confusion to know who was speaking to him.

"Your little friend, the one in the pretty black shirt, seems to know how to have fun"- The bartender, while cleaning a glass, elbowed him as a sign of complicity while winking at him and then burst out laughing.

"Oh ye-yeah. She's amazing"- This last he said in almost a whisper. This woman aroused new emotions in the detective, and he liked them

Now the crazy singer began to sing in Spanish, although nobody understood her, they enjoyed the music

"SI NO SUPISTE AMAR, AHORA TE PUEDES MARCHAR!" (If you didn't know how to love, now you can leave)

"BOOM BOOM PON A GOZAR TU CUERPO CON EL BOOM, BOOM BOOM PON A GOZAR TU CUERPO, WOOO" (put your body to enjoy with the boom)- I was jumping like I was in carnival while waving an arm in the air

I stopped singing, I was exhausted

"Thank you dear audience, y ahora chupenme la-!" (and now suck my-)

The vocalist, fed up with me, snatched the microphone from me before I could finish the sentence.

"Go insult somewhere else, I have a Colombian cousin, you know? I understood what you said"

I came down from the audience somewhat embarrassed but happy because the people were applauding me happily, it was nice to be the center of attention for 5 minutes

I got to Colin who was still sitting at the bar looking at me like I was a Christmas present smiling with his eyes and mouth

"My, my. You're quite the jackpot"

"Oh what can I say?"- I said modest

"Let's go I think it's already quite late"- He looked at his wristwatch, it was 9:30

Colin Zabel took me affectionately but firmly by the arm, accompanying me towards the exit and then resting his hand on my lower back.

I got in the car together with him and we began the return to my apartment. Colin drove calmly while I still kept the music on my mind, nodding my head rhythmically and rocking my foot up and down. I looked at the streets distracted through the window. I suddenly turned my whole body so that I could face the detective. I rested an arm on the headrest of my seat, looking at him mischievously.

"What did you think of today's performance?"

"I think it was magical"- He smiled and showed some sexy dimples.- "I didn't know you could dance so well, my favorite part was when you took the vocalist's microphone and made him shut up"- When he laughed his nose wrinkled adorablely, he looked like a bunny

"Really?"- I laughed hysterically throwing my head back.- "Ok yeah, that was good"

We continue laughing heartily until I get closer to Colin laughing and resting my hand on his leg. I stroked his thigh coming up a bit near his groin and gave a playful squeeze.

Colin, who was not expecting that, tensed his muscles and clenched his jaw, letting out a contained grunt.

I looked at him biting my lower lip into a smile while still having my hand on his leg.

"Uhmm I-I think the alcohol affected you a little"- He moaned slowly, unable to contain himself.

Music for my ears

I laughed and slowly removed my hand from his thigh.

"I wasn't really drunk..."

Colin turned his head to gape at me, but remembered he was driving so he quickly looked back at the road.

"What did you just say??"

I shrugged as I looked at him, smiling innocently as if I had done some mischief and was about to punish myself.

"Did you seriously think it was my first time trying a drink that strong?"- I said naughty

Zabel snorted

"Please don't be mad, I know it was stupid"- I begged - "The cocktail had gone to my head a bit but not so much that I lost consciousness, I was conscious"- Now totally serious I look at him worried

"I'm sorry"- I sounded like a wounded animal as I looked down at my skirt. I didn't want to play the dead fly but now I realized that what I did was irresponsible

Colin heard the tone of regret in my voice and since he didn't like to see me down he said

"I'm not mad I promise, plus I have to admit it was kind of fun. And no one got hurt so you didn't do anything serious"- He gave me a warm look and a smile that was brighter than the stars in the sky that night.

Relieved, I smiled back at him as he continued driving to my house. Again he helped me get out of the car and walked me to the entrance.

"Well y/n I really had a good time today, I say again that you are full of surprises"

"Aww you don't suck either"

He laughed

We stared at each other's eyes, both shone in a particular way, was it love?

"Well I guess I'll see you another day Detective Zabel"- And without waiting for an answer, I grabbed his face with both hands and planted a passionate but quick kiss on his lips. It was our second date anyway and that's what happens at the end of one, right?

Colin stared at me silently, not knowing how to react.

"See you tomorrow, mi vida"- I smiled even with his face in my hands

He looked at me smiling confused

"I think you'll have to ask me out again to find out what that means."- I said amused as I quickly opened the door and entered my house.

The brown-haired boy stared at the door for a few seconds without knowing what to do, but then he laughed, placing his hands in his pants pocket as he headed towards his car. He would definitely ask her out on another date.

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

It's not the best I've written, sorry for disappointing the fans of this series 😭

at least i hope i made you laugh

[dumbpuppycatgirl]

how do I tell if I’m trans

(sorry your my only transfem moot (I think))

Short answer:

I know because being a girl(-adjacent being) makes me happy. Moving towards happiness helped me (even though i sabotage myself at every step every day)

See also:

https://amitrans.org/

https://turn-me-into-a-girl.com/

https://genderdysphoria.fyi/en

My full story under the cut:

My story starts in 2020, like so many modern trans stories do, when i was stuck online and found a new community where someone came out as trans. I asked her a lot of questions and she told me to experiment.

So i experimented, i bought skirts and other clothing online; bought like an anime school girl outfit because idk cute?

I started pretending to be a girl on reddit and discord when i joined a large overwatch server under a mew account, trying out several names.

On reddit i also started looking into trans memes and started reading experiences of trans people.

Within a few months i had made a first decision for myswlf really sternly: i do not want to be a guy.

I started talking about it with my therapist and she was very helpful and supportive.

The community i joined at the start of this story i found more friends and more queer friends and we were joking around having fun.

A real life friend bought some make up for me when i talked with her about me questioning, which was very nice but even 3 years later i have barely actually used any of it. I am terrified of make up, and hate seeing my face. Always hated seeing my face.

In my reading and relating to trans stories i stumbled upon the three websites linked above. The genderdysphoria bibke eslecially was extremely helpful.

After making that first decision around december 2020 and getting help from resl life people around early 2021 it still took forever to answer "if not a man, then what?" Im not sure i have the answer now. What i have figured out now that i have tried make up, wear more femme clothing, go by a fem name and changed my legsl gender is that im generally much happier being a woman.

Im not sure im a woman, or at least maybe not always, but "woman" is much much closer to what i 'am' than "man", if that makes sense.

During the second half of my questioning phase, when i read the dysphoria bible, i started realising that mayyyybe there were hints during my childhood... wanting to play a girl character during the one singular open theatre day i attended when i was like 11 or so might have been a clue.

I realised that my obsession with TF-TG comics was not a cis thing lmao. I realised that men generally dont feel "cursed" to have the body they have.

I did make some changes to my body over time, though, as i started living on my own also in 2020 to be a student i had much more freedom to do things secretly. Bought jewelry to wear inside only, and dyed my hair, which was amazing.

During the summer of 2021, my cousin got married, and i had to wear a suit, of course, which felt painful. Cementing my not wanting to be a man feeling. Dead eye smile all the way.

Later that year i had some talks with my brother about feeling so extremely limited in my choices for clothing and expression and what not and that being a man felt like a prison. He was very nice about it and said that clothing is not gendered if youre not a coward. I liked that a lot.

Soon after i came out as trans fem to my close online friends (none of who were surprised). Meer my now boyfriend that winter and everything was great.... except no one irl knew.

Still took me 3 months to come out to my neighbours (student living so i spent a lot of time with them) and my family. Both coming out messages were sent over WhatsApp at like 2 am and turned off my phone and locked the door. Coming out is hard.

Since then, now 2.5 years later, it had not been all roses and sunshine. But it has been better. I started to feel like i was a person, i started being able to think about a future, beyond extremely surface level, "guess, I'll get a job somewhere and get s house idk". My dad remarked that i stood much more upright when wearing my dress than when boymoding.

My parents luckily took it extremely well, they kinda also had to, as since my coming out my 2 brothers have also been fruity lmao. Within 6 months my family went from "good christian family with 3 sons" to having a trans girl, a gay and a femboy. Im still convinced my mom is an egg. I like my queer family.

Anyway, moral of the story is this: experiment and do what makes you happy. I still dont know how to label myself completely but that is also not too important. Im much happier with myself now than before.

[toxi-works-at-culvers]

also what are some of your headcanons for him? i'd love to know:)!

ohh i have so many thoughts about him, thank you for asking! :3c

some general stuff first i guess? i think he genuinely loved his kids! and i think that he also liked kids in general, since he opened up fredbear's and all. i don't think he was the best dad, but i think he genuinely tried. and i don't really like when he's portrayed as abusive because i don't feel like it makes sense for his character.

basic stuff: 6 ft 2 in tall, built like a fuckin twig, scariest gray/green eyes you will ever see. charming bastard smile. missing a tooth because he's definitely gotten into a fight before. wears purple in almost every outfit and dresses more formally than needed. bisexual. somewhere in his mid-30's in 1983

hobbies include robotics, designing animatronics, acting, journaling, and juggling (canon btw)

british. that's not even a headcanon but i feel like it's being forgotten lately (matthew curtis' voicelines for him + he's not gonna have an accent in the movie… sad!)

very afraid of death

has a very high opinion of himself

probably had a cat at one point. i feel like he would

i think his hair would start graying kind of early because of stress. the man's a workaholic and has definitely done more than a few all-nighters :P

i also think he got married kind of early (in his 20's or so) from societal pressure and also oopsies!! accidental pregnancy! so yeah. michael was an accident but william still loved him - but once elizabeth and evan were born william kind of ends up ignoring michael in favor of them. and that causes michael's teen angst to get especially angsty which is why the bite of 83 happens

he 100% used to have a thing with henry. there's no way they weren't at least a little fruity. (from the silver eyes, "a search of his house had found (…) stacks of journals full of raving paranoia, passages about henry that ranged from wild jealousy to near worship." tell me that's not homosexual.) but anyways they both have families now, yet william still lowkey kind of wants henry. but will never have him because they are both doomed by the narrative :) (edit to also say. they are like a divorced old couple tbh.)

his opinion about henry swaps around a lot. sees henry as being superior and better than him even if, technically, william has made wayyy more advanced animatronics. or sometimes thinks that he's the best and henry would be nothing without him.

and now his personality!! i kind of try to base most of it on how he's portrayed in the books, with my own touch added on. basically he's silly! he's a great actor and he's very theatrical. he's also very charismatic, good at interacting with people as well as getting what he wants. but underneath all that he's kind of an asshole, he's really selfish and only really cares about himself. he's egotistcal and he doesn't admit his faults because he thinks he can't be wrong. so yeah. (this actually got really long so i condensed it down. more elaboration under the cut)

gets springlocked and dies in 1993. returned to the fnaf 1 location because he wanted to destroy the old animatronics, thinking that it might free the souls and let him avoid their wrath or something idk. kind of backfired on him.

post springtrapping he's had a lot of time to reflect, but rather than feeling guilty he feels like he needs to get revenge. he wants to kill everyone who's ever wronged him and that's what keeps him going, even in death. (also the only one he might ACTUALLY somewhat regret is killing charlie, because of how it broke his relationship with henry. but otherwise he doesn't feel guilty at all.)

and most importantly, the fnaf 6 ending (with henry's speech) is canon and he's dead after that :) no glitchtrap, no mimic, no FUCKING FEAR GAS!1!1!11

(the original, longer version of his personality here lol) i think that william is actually a very silly goofy guy! he's dramatic, he's an entertainer and an actor as shown by how he acts when he's wearing the springbonnie suit. although he's definitely playing it up for an effect there, he's still kind of uhh. theatrical i think. but he's also very charismatic and could probably smooth talk his way out of prettty much anything, which is part of the reason he doesn't get arrested after the MCI (also the lack of evidence). at the same time he has kind of a weird vibe to him, you can just tell there's something wrong with this dude, like maybe he's trying a little too hard to look normal.

and thennnn there's what's beneath the surface. william is kind of insensitive, self-centered/selfish, and egotistical. he also absolutely refuses to admit his own faults or shortcomings. something bad happened? not his fault! he was wrong about something? no he wasn't! another thing, william is very paranoid and usually feels like anyone or anything could be a threat to him (mostly because of that one passage from the silver eyes, "had spent so much of his life fighting like a cornered rat." and ANOTHER thing from the silver eyes, "he had taken on the mantle of bitter sadism as an integral part of himself. he would strike out against others and revel in their pain, feeling righteously that the world owed him his cruel pleasures.")

at first he kills charlie because he wants to bring evan back, and feels he deserves some kind of revenge on henry because it was HIS animatronic that did the bite after all, right? but along the way he realizes he enjoys killing. and that it feels so good to have power when he hasn't for most of his life. so he keeps going, and eventually all that comes crashing down on him. and it's tragic! because he used to have what many would call a perfect life. but he completely ruined that with his own selfish desires.

[13docwriting]

So I'll start with the fact that I am, indeed, a fan of Chibnall's era. I am an even bigger fan of the 13th Doctor. I'll also start with the fact that I quite literally grew up with RTD's writing and loved Ten with all my heart. But now I am an adult and some of RTD's writing has left me a bit scared. Here's my "live streaming" review on The Star Beast. SPOILERS BELOW!

I'm going in order of how I processed things, so it's gonna be chaotic. My first essay is this: You know why this post is so long? It's because we're not livestreaming things anymore. I'm not immediately with other fans in real time, typing out our little posts. I'm quite literally doing this at my leisure. I'll miss watching DW live. Now then, in order! 1. The music? Ten out of ten. I have always loved Gold's compositions and he did not let us down. And this opinion is only being generated from the new(er) theme song. Which leads me to...

2. Look at the B U D G E T. Even the opening credits has a budget that you can just FEEL. Those stars/galaxies? Very nice... And then I have to chuckle over the low level lighting / 2000s era effects of David Tennant's full profile voiceover of Donna and his story.

3. Him taking the boxes, seeing Donna's face, and slowly putting the boxes back is an RTD special and I LOVE that kind of comedy. It just makes me chuckle. And then him having a full blown panic over hearing Donna shout "Rose!" which... 4. Having these little call back moments feels rather bitter since we're calling this a reboot of the show. UNLESS the reboot is when Nucti starts up? But the fact that I'm confused just shows how bitter I should be. Again, my Chibnall love is showing. I don't believe in yet another reboot for DW, but that's a marketing thing over anything else... I hope. 5. I'm glad the 2000s Rose/Doctor shipping era lives strong through the name Rose. I know those fans are going to be happy and they deserve it. 6. NOW... Donna having a family. Okay. I'll have a separate post but... Does anyone else think that Donna having a husband just doesn't fit for her? Especially with her memories erased? Idk, I just never envisioned Donna getting married after the whole Lance thing. BUT I'm glad she's happy and the husband seems so nice. 7. Donna giving up that lottery money? Also strange considering she lost her memories. The first time we meet Donna we get this feeling that she's a bit shallow, which makes sense because she has to develop as a character. That was her character development so here KEEPING the money would have made more sense here. Which...

8. Rose. That's all. She's great!

9. Hey, can't help but notice, but when did the 14th Doctor have time to make a new screwdriver, huh? What gives? AND - AND there's not a single hint of 13's sonic on there. HMM. What the heck!

10. FORGOT SOMETHING. Whatever the line was "that says mistress" "Oh, catch up, will you?" I don't know how to take in this scene quite yet, but it's making me pause. It felt... Off kilter. Maybe cause I love 13 so much, I don't know. There's always callbacks to other faces when the Doctor first regenerations, but this felt... Wrong? Also, TEE HEE my mind went to Missy IMMEDIATELY and I love that little connection my fic writing brain is going wild.

11. WHY DOES UNIT HAVE SO MUCH MONEY???? Look at this uniforms, holy cow! I almost don't like it? Like, they're an underground agency. WE JUST SAW THEM GET DESTROYED BY CYBERMEN IN THE POWER OF THE DOCTOR. Are we just ignore that entire episode or...?

12. Donna not being able to keep a job? Yeah, THAT one I believe haha.

13. "I will burn down the world for you, darling" says Donna Noble to her transgender kid. WHICH IS AMAZING, WHICH MADE ME SMILE SO WIDE I WAS HAVING A PARTY IN MY BRAIN. There's my Donna! 14. "Gramps used to talk about flying saucers" oh god my heart. I teared up a little, not going to lie. Wilf, I think about you every single day. You made the Doctor the person he is today.

15. MEEP IS SO CUTE. OH WOW. I know "evil" is coming but SO CUTE RIGHT NOW.

16. To go from some excellent animatronics from the Meep to whatever those alien, fly things are was HILARIOUS. What, we'd run out of money for those costume's? Were they meant to look like a typical RTD alien back in the 2000s? How does that work?

17. WHAT THE ACTUAL FLYING FUCK WAS THE SONIC DOING. Wait, did Disney give the sonic some magical powers? Why are we suddenly writing in the air? How are we getting readouts of the ship from the sonic like that? Could it do that before? Why would we not do that before? I'm dying that's so funny.

18. Shirley seems cool!!! I hope we get more of her! And I love the nod to PROPER representation. Chibs did a good job of that as well. Edit: REAL representation! Good on RTD. The scene with the stairs and she says "don't make me the problem"... I am not a wheelchair user but I do hope that was properly done. 19. "I absolutely love her [Donna]" LOOK AT 14 HAVING FEELINGS! Aww, I hope 15 follows through with the feelings! 11, 12, and 13 have been so locked up, so scared to love... Having a Doctor that's ready to loudly embrace their love for things would be such a good character development. (My fear would be RTD ripping that away in the most tragic way possible, but that's a future problem I suppose).

20. I'm at the scene where Rose is talking to the Meep in the shed, and just, again, THE MUSIC. We did have some good musical moments in 13's era but, even I have to admit, nothing as pretty as this. It really is something, round of applause once again.

21. LISTEN. L I S T E N. I don't condone slapping the Doctor. I don't. In fact, it's wrong. It's very wrong. And you can't slap 13, can you? So slapping 14 shouldn't make sense. It's the definition of sexist. It's just not something you should do. BUT. B U T. Jackie's "stitch this, mate" is always in my head and now THIS "here we go again" after Sylvia gives the Doctor a good slap... I laughed, okay? It was funny! But really, in the good year of 2023, there shouldn't be comedy like that. That joke should have died. BUT I LAUGHED. So I'm to blame as well.

22. "Never mind about the ferret from mars." I LOVE the mars callback from Donna, thank you very much.

23. Kate looking after Wilf damn near brought tears to my eyes. Kate, you are the real hero of the DW universe. Thank you.

24. This is... This is gonna be another post. But. Okay. So. The whole "you're assuming he as a pronoun". Right. Okay. I know groups of people that talk like that. Both online and in person. Personal life spoiler, I work(ed) in musical theater. I've seen it all. I, personally, do not like this whole... "Let's be really obvious about it" thing. And also highly believe in someone else first telling me, when it fits, what their pronouns are. Having someone pull the defensive "YOU ASSUMED" crap doesn't work because humans don't think like that. It's a whole other rant, but yeah. This felt forced and I hate when shows do that. Representation is important but FORCING that representation doesn't help.

25. what's the. what's the sonic doing. what. how'd it. we got lines in the air. we got unbelievable shield. we. he waved it like a wand and now. what the. how'd. (Yo, not me head cannoning that this is 13 banging around in 14's head demanding that they have a better way to protect their friends. Love it). I WILL HAVE A LOT MORE THOUGHTS ON THIS.

26. DW has money now. That will continue to blow my mind.

27. "This is a sonic screwdriver and if it's good at one thing, it's resonating concrete". Oh yeah, Doctor? I'd like to bring forth you, never once, being able to do it. Not once! (And now it's good at creating magical shields and complex, alien holograms, but that's point #25)

28. Where'd in hell's name did he get that wig and how soon can Donna throw it out a window?

29. MEEP YOU - YOU UTTER AHOLE. Man, it was SO CUTE

30. O k a y. I take back, holy crap what point am I on? I take back point #7. So there's some of the Doctor left in her, eh? That's why! I dig that. I really, really dig that. Sorry for being a downer, that was my mistake.

31. I too can come up with technobabble bullcrap that means nothing. I sometimes think that's RTD's biggest failing, his incessant need to over describe things. EDIT. JEEZ, a good five minutes later as we're STILL talking gibberish.

32. Hey, I see you "glass wall between Donna and the Doctor" and raise you "glass wall between Wilf and the Doctor". OW. I demand emotional compensation!

33. Listen, I just got over 13 keeping every. single. emotion inside of her. She never raised her voice, she never really cried, she never had a chance to just scream and yell and be angry at the universe. The fact that there's 14 RIGHT HERE, screaming, because to save Donna, he has to lose her YET AGAIN. Just angry and devastated and grieving... It's a stunning scene, it's a scene that makes sense, but my 13 loving little heart says that this is 13's moment to be angry and it was taken from her.

34. Also, ha, I know Disney bought DW, but did we just "Winter Soldier" Donna Noble. We gave her trigger words to keep her memories at bay? Really?

35. "Hold on a minute," said in Ten's/Fourteenth's voice... Was that.. Was that ELVEN'S theme music while Donna was being, well, Time Lady Donna? Because that was... That was GOLDEN. How amazing is that? What a great idea!

36. You MONSTER, RTD, making Fourteen hold Donna the same way he held the Master? What the hell is that about?

37. The.. The nonbinary, but binary. I... It's... Something! Okay, I'll get there. I'll have a post about it. Maybe. But. Yeah, it's something!

38. DOES UNIT HAVE AVENGERS *cough* sorry it's been a while for Marvel me *cough* STARK TOWER. WAS THAT STARK TOWER? Damn, Disney, you really did bring us back to superwholock Avenger's "Clint in the vents" era, huh?

39. "It's a shame you're not a woman anymore, because she would have understood... Something a male presenting Time Lord will never understand." You can't... You can't do the whole "nonbinary" thing and that just immediately point out gender like that. What. The defeats the entire purpose. The whole point you're trying to make is that gender DOESN'T matter, and yet... And the Doctor has always, always been nonbinary. I refer to the Doctor as "they" when speaking as a collective whole, and many of us have done that. I use pronouns when talking about specific Doctors because humans have always used pronouns. Again, 11 and 13 have made mention that gender has NEVER mattered to them. I just... You can't be poking a bear and then expecting the bear to not to come after you if you've changed the poking object from a stick to a teaser.

40. I gotta laugh that Rose and Donna had the most peaceful "regeneration" we've ever seen. Somewhere in there, a Doctor or two is screaming lol.

41. Oh... The TARDIS is ugly. DON'T HIT ME. STOP HITTING ME. I MEAN It. Not, for real though, Oh my god, what. Why. The colors. Or lack of colors, really. What the fuck. Where's the... Where's the personality? Where's the sass? I've loved every single TARDIS change but THIS... This is a hard one to swallow.

42. The TARDIS having an shit fit over Donna spilling coffee on her is WONDERFUL. That's so funny to me. With everything she's been through with 13, that was just the best way for her to get her revenge! All in all, strange episode, yeah? I mean, what WAS that plot? It was really more of setup for the next episode, and double really meant to reunite ten and Donna, which was well done, but also... Why? It just felt a bit all over the place but very much cushioned by nostalgia. I'm done now. My fingers HURT. As always, and as I say in all my fics, I'm here if you want to chat. Reblog this, PM me, tag me in stuff!

[unusual]

sorry if you’ve spoken on this subject before i’m new here. but how do you feek ab the portrayal of arcane viktor in comparison to his original lore?

Hi!! I actually havent spoken about this at all but i do have a lot to say about it so i smiled when i got this ask… youre giving me a platform to infodump. there’s a lot of meat to this so i put it under a read more just to save people’s dashes, no content warnings

I really prefer his portrayal in league of legends, I’m not sure how clear it is but I think a lot of how he’s portrayed in his mainline lore is just so delicious and smart and fun. there are a lot of elements there that line up to make what i would consider a very cohesive and super fascinating character, and the only issue i really have ultimately with leagueviktor is that they dont use him!!! he has great lore (a lot of which is delivered using jayce’s lore as a vehicle) and is such a good addition to the universe that its kind of a shame hes underutilized and not thought about very much (I feel the same way about jayce as well as their relationship together but that’s a whole other essay). I had hoped for a long time that this would end up changing and that arcane would really boost his and jayce’s popularity in a way that would lead to more content for them, but that isnt going to be the case now as they’re both being fully retconned and replaced with their arcane counterparts (😞). Regardless viktor and jayce are both really special characters to me and I’ll always prefer their league selves over arcane, they’re just so fun and crazy

For what it’s worth I do like arcane viktor. I feel like he’s misinterpreted and misunderstood more often than not which can be frustrating (because I feel like I “get” a lot of his thought processes and experiences so it can be awkward to see someone else assuming the worst or more commonly just treating him like a baby), but I think he’s really cute and loved him in s1. His voice + design are great especially! My gripes with arcane wrt viktor (and by association jayce) mostly come into play when we start talking about things like retcons and character changes — while viktor’s personality remains mostly unaltered, jayce’s was changed as well as the general dynamic of their original school-era relationship (which I prefer; for those unfamiliar think of league vs arcane as like friendly rivals who bicker a lot and have ideological conflicts and are kind of implied to be gay vs friends played straight but kind of homoerotic) and I feel like while it works in the context of the show I don’t like it so much that I want the original to be retconned in favor of it if that makes sense…? I think arcane is great as an au but I don’t think it should be used as the basis for the “new” league lore by any stretch of the imagination particularly since it started out as a tv adaptation of the 2015/16 lore with things cut out for time. I like viktor being ill + disabled, I know different people have different views of that but I feel like it’s an interesting motivation for his ideology and beliefs and probably the best change they could have made for him if they had to make one. IDK I’m just rambling on here but yeah I feel like I’ve never actually talked about that here and now I have… those are my thoughts jsut off the top of my head though. trust that i could go on for much longer.

tldr i like both league viktor and arcane viktor but as a full-fledged character i prefer league viktor and also i feel like its impossible to talk about viktor without talking about jayce and vice versa since they exist in tandem with each other. Viktor arcane is cute to me as an au, i dont think he should replace canon viktor. i do feel like arcane viktor has led to a lot of misunderstandings and misinterpretations of both him and league viktor which cant be helped at this stage but probably could have been avoided somehow early on.

Ultimately they’re way more like two different characters to me or two different versions of the same person (i.e. multiverse) than anything

[lilolilyr]

Tagged by @lesbianlotties a while back, thanks :) I know you just tagged me in a similar one more recently but this one I can do more with atm xD also maybe it'll make me actually finish a fic, who knows! After not posting anything for nearly a month I just wrote what might be half of a ficlet last night at 2am and another bit at 7 so I'm naturally completely sleep deprived but ecstatic about the sudden bout of creativity!

Rules:

Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names. Post a snippet from one of them (Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post.)

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. That’s it! You can invite others to join in or just post.

Ok so I don't usually have file names bc titles are hard and come last so everything is '[Fandom] [ship] [oneworddescription] wip' to me xD but I'll still tell you about five of my recent drafts

a fluffy Berena continuation to my 'Why'd it take so long to see the light' series

a blind!Andy Mirandy AU with them meeting on a plane just before the canon timeline would happen

this one's just an idea so far but I'd love to write a songfic to the storyline in 'He Set Her Off', either Berena or Avorah, definitely send me an ask if you want me to write one of them!

4. Milippa fluff, a morning of a camping trip

5. also just an idea so far: I'd love to write an And They Were Neighbors type situation but I can't even seem to decide which ship to write it for (Avorah? Milippa/Milippakat? Mirandy??) So atm it's just a file full of throwaway lines and some inspo fics... Might ask the author of one of them whether they'd be okay with me rewriting it for a different ship bc one of the fics really fits well especially to Avorah tho with a bit of a role reversal on the younger & older characters? Idk

Feel free to send me an ask with the wip number & what you want to know about it/prompt me to continue it! :)

And here's the snipped, from the Berena WIP on •1:

Smiling gratefully, Bernie sits down at the edge of the tub, leaning forward with her arms on her knees for a moment, feeling quite content. She's barely in any pain at all now, and the sound of the water falling from the showerhead is soothing.

"Close your eyes," Serena murmurs, and when Bernie complies, she washes her hair for her, then rinses it out before quickly finishing her own clean-up, turning off the water and stepping out behind the shower curtain.

Tagging some Berena bloggers who might like to see this, plus some writers who might want to do this!

@sapphicdbc @akaanonymouth @starfleetwitch @shippingsincebeforeyouwereborn @purlturtle @lonely-night @batnbreakfast @pers-books @squishmittenficfan @guardianrock @jennamacaroni @cryhardanddanceharder @onaperduamedee @eyeh0rr0r @danisnotmyname

Also feel tagged to do any of the other tagging memes I'll be doing today! Or also the ones in the tagging meme may tag (just click on the tag below... Or if tumblr is bugging and it leads you to the general tag search, click back until you can't see this part below the readmore anymore, Then click the tag on this post and you should see all the other posts I've tagged with it), bc this is I think the first one I made in June? So that'd be a bit sad of a selection xD

[danpuff-ao3]

Hi!! 🎈💋🤲 For the ask game!

Lety!! Thanks for the asks!

[answers under the cut cuz wow is this a long one...sorry 🙈]

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

Oh gosh, what a good question! Not one I know how to answer, I'm afraid. This is one of those things I'm always interested to hear what others have to say; what do they think my style is? Others probably see it clearer than I do, mired in my own mind as I am. And as hazy as it is, plagued as I am by a hypercritical and perfectionistic nature.

Perhaps it shifts a bit. Generally I try to stay in one POV and mold the telling around that character's voice and nature, which will inevitably have some impact on style. Though perhaps the core of it remains the same, driven as I am by my own goals. My aim is always to be true to the characters themselves, in whatever scenario I've conjured for them. The aim is always to be a bit ruthless, in ways that are both cathartic and indulgent for me. It's always character and emotion. And I always want to make people feel something; maybe to make them think.

Everything is very intentional, though perhaps not in a very conscious or logical way. Word choice...god how I agonize over word choice. Punctuation, too. Em-dashes and ellipses and semicolons! They all convey something a bit different. They affect the rhythm in their own way. Do I have choppy sentences, or do I connect them with a semicolon? To I carry through with endless em-dashes? What details to slip in, to color the world and flesh it out, without overburdening the story? What facts are important to keep, and which can be carved out? What is necessary to tell this story? What do I sacrifice for the greater good? What do I keep, like the greedy goblin I am?

But rarely is it "the curtains are blue because blue is sad and Harry closes the sad blue curtains so he can suffocate in his own sadness." And it's certainly never "I placed a semicolon there because it was the most correct way to structure that sentence." Pfffff. I'm all about the vibe, baby. Blue curtains set the scene the way I needed. The semicolon gave a burst of emotion that a comma couldn't quite cut.

...but then I've also had to last minute reorganize scenes because it occurred to me that it was very important to know when the full moon in April of 2001 happened. Is this story about werewolves? No. Is the full moon involved in an important plot point? Also no. But it does feel very life or death in my brain, so here we are.

So perhaps my style is best described as "weird obsessive lady tinkering with words under a thin veneer colored by her POV character", idk.

💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

Yes, yes!!!! Absolutely! If only to ease my mind, since I feel like a lunatic and an annoyance and hearing back from them generally lets me know "hey I haven't scared this person off!" But also it's just generally nice to hear from people, and to connect with creators I admire! A big joy of fandom is the community of it so I dunno...it's just friendly and fun and makes me smile!

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

A headache. Sorry, I recently finished a rough draft that actually was a headache, but I think the spirit of the question is more...why do I write? What am I benefiting from it? Besides a headache.

Well! I am a lady with a very vivid imagination. And a lot of feelings.

So firstly, language is made for communication. And I was going to go off on this whole tangent in the first question. How...okay, maybe I don't always choose the most technically, literally correct way of doing things, but art is not much about being technical and correct. And neither is communication, really. You think of the pedants out there who gripe and complain about slang, or words that shift meaning (as if words aren't all made up, and as if words don't historically change meaning as times change and societies change, but I digress...) and they miss the point that this is communication. Language wasn't built for you to make a 100 on your English paper. It's for us to connect.

So...writing as communication. Conversation, and stories. How much we learn about others and the world. And how much we learn about ourselves.

So...communication and connection, in some ways. Even stories that aren't shared, it's much like writing in a journal. It's still new life breathed into the chaos of my mind. And even if it isn't meant to be shared, doesn't mean it never will be. And even if no one else ever does read it, it's much like talking to oneself.

I spend so much time in my own head, mulling over a thousand and one thoughts. My brain never shuts up, okay? So while daydreaming and contemplation is the inward function of those thoughts and feelings, speaking and writing is the outward motion of them, even if it's only putting them to word, putting them to shape, in an empty room. And that outward motion can shed new light on them, or cast them in a new shape. Lines you'd not noticed before, a different shade of blue there. It's a new and different way to experience what I'm thinking and feeling, helps me process them better, helps me come to terms with my own mind.

So even at its most personal and private, still the idea of putting it in a new place and exploring it in different ways.

But then, when you share it, when you let others read it, it's communication in the more proper way you think of it. Connecting with others. Sharing with others. And knowing that all of the benefit I get from seeing the world through another's' perspective, I give back by sharing my own. And the connections made to others through them!

Stories have been such a huge part of my life for my entire life. My mom would sing me songs and read me stories every night. And the moment I learned to read, I never stopped. There is so much to learn from and take from stories. The stories I've read have helped shape who I am. And my writing is such a similar thing. It's part of me. A way of sharing all of the color and noise and movement in my soul. A way of sharing every twisty thought, every sharp feeling. It is so much a part of me, even if not in very literal, easily-definable ways.

It can be a means of catharsis. Of purging the poison, or riding out a fever. It's a safe way of interacting with things too complicated or too dangerous to face head on.

Writing is empathy. It is sitting and looking through another's eyes. Not a real person, maybe, but an other. A way to consider other people, and how they think and feel, and how to connect with them.

Writing is an adventure! All sorts of journeys I might never take in real life. A way of considering potential and opportunity. Writing is playing. It's a game. It's toying with scenarios and worlds and words. It's fun, and thrilling! But it can also be daunting, and challenging.

It can be easy. It can be release. It can be joyous and exciting. It can be terrible and awful and difficult. Not always good things, but it's just...who I am, I guess. It gives me what I want, sometimes, but mostly what I need. It's good for me, mind and heart and soul, however rough the ride is.

Most people who know me know I love astrology, so I have to end with a nod towards that. 😂 My moon (emotion, subconscious) is in Leo. Leo, which is light and cheery and magnetic. It's my need to be seen and to connect. Leo is about creation. And adulation, I'm not gonna lie. 🤣 But it's mostly...just having a lot of energy and an overactive imagination and a whole heck of a lot of passion. Leo is generous and big and loud. It's just a need deep inside to create and share.

And maybe the biggest thing of all is that: the act of creation. Feeling productive and accomplished and proud. To have given form and life to something outside of myself, and the desire to see it grow and thrive.

Wow this was a lot of blabbering, oops. 🙊

Let's Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks

[madara-fate]

I posted 2,310 times in 2022

1,541 posts created (67%)

769 posts reblogged (33%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@animepopheart

@pururin

@dailyghibli

@dailynaruto

@animepolaroid

I tagged 1,447 of my posts in 2022

Only 37% of my posts had no tags

#sakura haruno - 512 posts

#sasuke uchiha - 442 posts

#sasusaku - 292 posts

#naruto uzumaki - 184 posts

#naruto - 130 posts

#hinata hyuuga - 96 posts

#boruto: naruto next generations - 62 posts

#sarada uchiha - 54 posts

#ino yamanaka - 52 posts

#attack on titan - 46 posts

Longest Tag: 72 characters

#did they really just say that sakura and tsunade only heal in the anime?

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Naruto was still his closest bond after Itachi he was alone but he knew he had to kill Naruto who was a big deviation from his goal . Shows sasuke really cherishes Naruto . I really can't say the same for sakura and in all honesty it's not even meant as snarky or anything atp I'm just sad . A lot of sns stans feel pity for sakura because she didn't even get on the closest bond list love is something too far . Idk if curse of hatred made him still see Naruto in such a way why not the same love for sakura ,?? I'm just genuinely confused

What are you talking about? How does Naruto being Sasuke's closest bond at the time mean that he never cherished Sakura? Just because someone has a best friend, that doesn't mean they don't also cherish all of their other friends. And to make matters worse, you're speaking in the present tense, as if Sasuke cherishes his Naruto but not his own wife. Furthermore, killing Naruto also wasn't a big deviation from his goal, because Naruto stood directly in the way of his goal.

A lot of sns stans feel pity for sakura because she didn't even get on the closest bond list

Is that right?

Then how would you explain Sasuke thinking about Naruto and Sakura when he was thinking about his most precious comrades?

See the full post

141 notes - Posted January 24, 2022

#4

Something I just noticed is that when Sakura threw that huge stone pillar at Shin, that wasn't chakra enhanced strength, because that requires you to release the chakra on impact when punching or kicking, which is why it needs immaculate chakra control. You can't apply that to when you're throwing objects, so during that scene, there was no application of precise chakra control involved - that was purely Sakura's natural brute strength:

It didn't click at first, but rewatching that scene made me realise that it was similar to when Tsunade picked up Gamabunta's huge sword. Both of them were feats of natural brute strength, no enhancement needed. So therefore, Sakura's power doesn't solely rely on the chakra enhancement, she has natural monstrous strength as well.

170 notes - Posted February 13, 2022

#3

I don't know how people watched 17 yo Sakura with no shinobi background and no power up punch a fucking goddess with no hesitation and still called her a weakling and a coward

I don't know how people saw Kakashi confirming the sincerity of Sakura's love for Sasuke and how she only wanted to save him, and still believe that she only liked him for his looks.

I don't know how people saw Karin confirming that Sarada is Sakura's biological daughter, and still believe that she was some form of experiment.

I don't know how people saw Sakura mentioning during her confessions how Sasuke wouldn't be happy if he continued down the path of vengeance, and how she wanted to return to the days where he was genuinely smiling, and still believe that her confessions were totally selfish and all about herself.

I don't know how people saw Sasuke describing Sakura as a precious comrade and how he eventually saw the shadow of his family within her and the rest of Team 7, and still believe that he never gave a damn about her.

I don't know how people had the idea of the Curse of Hatred shoved down their throats so many times and how Sasuke's Pt.2 self was molded by the loss of love in his past, and still believe that Sasuke was completely himself throughout the whole series.

I don't know how people watched the Sakura vs Ino fight with the former explicitly explaining how she wanted to escape from Ino's shadow, and still believe Sakura ditched her friend over a boy.

I don't know how people saw how Gaiden ended with words literally confirming that the love between the Uchiha family is the real deal, and still believe that Sasuke was somehow forced into it.

Believe me I have plenty more, the list just goes on and on.

187 notes - Posted July 17, 2022

#2

Did you see the new official naruto art? Apparently Sasuke looks unhappy because he is chewing food that Sakura feeds him with. 🤦‍♀️

And I saw an anti say, that Sakura apparently still doesn’t know Sasuke because she feeds him sweets and he hates sweets.

Yeah I saw it, I just took it as Sasuke being a little comically uncomfortable with Sakura's public display of affection, but of course all these anti extremists will use this to say how unhappy Sasuke is, how selfish Sakura is, how even SP shits on their relationship, and all the rest of their typical bullshit. So clearly, they're okay with using non canon but official artwork to make these assertions when it suits them. But then when an episode like Boruto 136 comes out with the scene where Sasuke reunites with Sakura at their house, looks at her with all the love in the world, says how appreciative he is for everything she's done for him, and gives her the genuine smile that they claim he only ever gives to Naruto:

Then they of course label it as nothing but filler with an OOC Sasuke. So they're fine to use non-canon artwork to hate on SS and claim the studio does the same thing, but when the studio comes out with an anime canon scene that shits all over their theories, they turn around and label it as non canon nonsense.

They always demonstrate these stupid double standards - picking and choosing when to use (by their definition) non canon sources. One of the best examples is when they're always so quick to twist Sakura's words during Sakura Hiden to make it seem as though she forced herself on Sasuke. So clearly, they're fine with using the novels to backup their asinine assertions. But when we refer to something like Sasuke Retsuden which again shits all of their claims, they'll of course backtrack and call the novels non canon fan fics, so typical.

208 notes - Posted April 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I'm glad to know that justice exists in this world.

240 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

this is everything to me!!!!!!!! i wish i had a clear head and could do better at this whole typing thing but i read twice and took my notes so here we go (quotes in order of appearance):

A variety of mostly bald or bearded men occupy different seats, and women with brassy hair and loud laughs hold all the secrets. 

idk why but this line got me. the imagery is so specific (always) but like i have a hard time imagining the way things look in my head and i can see/hear this so well. and i need to reread the sentence when i wake up tomorrow to see if i'm understanding the meaning of "hold all the secrets" in this context bc i have multiple interpretations in my mind.

His hand drags slowly down his thigh and slides onto your knee.

i did not realize that such a small touch could make my heart go !! i am her, i am there, i am immersed and hooked

Time is syrupy and slow. You feel your smile sticking longer than you meant, your eyes linger hotly, and you squeeze his upper arm harder than intended. It’s an addictive rush to feel your desire reciprocated. And with such urgency. You take in his height and broad frame now that you stand face to face. He stills. Observant. You don’t need any more time to decide what you want. You need to feel him and only him as soon as possible. 

the juxtaposition of the urgent need and the syrupy time, not just here but throughout, is so, so good. time teases reader just as javi does, it seems.

“Need to be stuffed full of this cock until you forget what ‘more’ means.” 

...

“Awfully confident, Javi. Hope you aren’t the type to oversell and underdeliver–” Your snide remark is cut off when he covers your hand with his and presses it into the hard bulge in his jeans. 

“Does it feel like an oversell?”

Javi's dirty talk made me....... feel something. i think the dirty talk is really balanced in this fic, like it's filthy but not ridiculous. i think that's one of the dirtiest parts and while still a fantasy, it's something that javi might say, like sometimes excessive dirty talk can make characters feel OOC but i feel like javi's dirty talk is just v v good in this. also, i love the way that reader matches his energy and while eventually submitting, she doesn't just fold immediately. it also really fits in line with the way that reader is characterized from the beginning, having these fiery emotions and being more impulsive (ik reader isn't technically a character, but like, to put it as best i can, she remains in character) i struggle to write 'reader' as someone who can banter back and forth in sexy situations, so this is v cool to me.

Nasty man with his beautiful body and devilish disposition.

literally a perfect tagline for javi. he should get it on a t shirt or a tombstone idk i wish i could explain how much i love that description.

You brace for another stream of air, but instead, you watch agape as a glob of spit falls in slow motion from his lips to your clit. The barely there sensation snaps something in your mind as his saliva flows downward.

(this is a bit embarrassing to admit, but my javi sim did this to my me sim while they were fucking and i was literally like 'i need to write about javi spitting on my clit!!!!!!!!!' so i'm v glad you did bc it's so hot)

Javi’s eyes shoot to yours, narrowed. You’ve interrupted a private conversation. Vague and meaningless threats start flowing from your mouth, and you shift to reach for him when an abrupt slap to your pussy jolts your nervous system. 

pussy slapping? yes. i just love the idea of javi having a 'private conversation' with your pussy, like it's *his* in some way already. his fascination with it is more than hot - maybe it's just due to my own insecurities, but a man wanting to spend uninterrupted time down there, like it's sacred, feels good in my heart and my p-

 “Don’t be trite, Javi.” You tug firmly at his length. “I’m sure all the ladies you pick up in shitty dive bars fawn over your pretty cock.”

i love this interaction in general but telling javi he has a 'pretty cock' would make him melt i swear. (he does tho i saw it in my mind

He gets up and starts pulling on his jeans. Reality hits you like a brick smashing into your skull. Leaving blood and bone fragments across your pillow. Substances and sex are temporary. Distractions, not solutions. A fleeting release to quell your demons. The ones that reappear back on your shoulders, cackling with glee over the chaos. Your mind is back in action racing. You drag your hands down your face. Holding your eyes shut tightly. You wait, holding your breath. Listening for the sound of your front door opening and closing any second. 

there was never any reason for me to think that it would be more than a one night stand and yet here i am feeling heartbroken at him leaving. i was falling for him like a dumbass!!!!!!!!! (i love angst) the listening for the front door opening and closing is an image that evokes a visceral reaction in me and it must be attached to something but i can't remember what, like dang, that awoke a buried piece of grief or something lmao

Maladaptive Coping Mechanisms

Pairing: Javier Peñal x f!reader

Summary: Looking for an escape from a horrible day, you take a sexy stranger home from the bar. 

Warnings: cravings, drinking, smoking, smut, glorification of substance use as a coping mechanism, using sex to avoid processing emotions, PWP, like a lot of just porn, just mostly all porn, spit, one (1) pussy slap, pussy pronouns, size kink, sort of pleasuredom!javi, AU unprotected sex has no risks bc i like it that way, piv sex, fingering, creampie,

Notes: cigarette vending machines were real, part 2 exists and if one single person asks for it i’ll post it 

please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration

Thanks: to @auteurdelabre , u know what u did 

WC: 6.7K

AO3: here

It’s not enough.

You feel the inescapable temptation racing like wildfire through your veins. Thick, hot air whips your hair into your face, and you laugh, throaty and as loud as a barking German Shepherd with saliva frothing against their teeth. The thought of jerking the wheel and rolling your car into oncoming traffic causes your fingers to twitch. The roar of the semi-truck you pass drowns out everything else, your music, the wind surging through the windows, and your violent intrusive thoughts. You decide not to opt for a head-on collision. Heading towards your side of town, you slow to a less reckless speed, immediately missing the road noise. 

The temptation still pounds in your head, unbearable. Something stronger. You need something stronger before you drive to his house and choke on the smoke while you burn it to the ground. 

But you’re free! You grin as you race directionless through the streets, the kind of grin that would unsettle a small child. The evening sun blinds you whenever you choose a street facing west, and you welcome the jarring obtrusion, the pain. But driving into the sun isn’t enough. 

You pull over at the first parking spot you can see, ripping off your seatbelt and twisting around to dig under your seat. Nails catch on the carpeting, but you only recognize some change, receipts, and a petrified french fry. The muscles in your shoulder could tear from the tendons for all you care as you contort yourself to check under the passenger seat before digging through every compartment you can fit your fingers into. 

A cigarette seems healthy in comparison to crashing your car or lighting your ex’s house on fire. You swore there was a forgotten pack of smokes under one of the seats in your car, stashed away in case of emotional emergencies months ago before you committed to quitting. Nate must have found them and tossed them. Of course, he could still keep making this day worse. Even after you’d walked out on him mid-rant about how it was somehow your fault that he’d become even more of a repulsive asshole during the months you’d spent apart. “Hope you’re happy with how you chose to use your last ‘second chance,’” you had spat at him, already halfway to the door. You imagined the look cemented on his face as you left. You hope to never imagine his face again. 

Dried tears sting the corners of your eyes. Rubbing at the raw skin burns. You stare at your red eyes in your rearview mirror, and you can see the flicker of your soul nearly snuffed out from the years of despair. Blood pounding in your ears, you roll your head on your shoulders, and popping and grinding noises in your neck add to the symphony of your pulse. Tipping back against the headrest, you refocus and take in your surroundings. A bar. A beacon in the fading golden hour as dusk overtakes her glow. 

Bars have cigarettes. A drink, or four, would help, too. You need to feel something else. Find something strong enough to break through the numbness of anger and embarrassment. Something to override your loquacious internal monologue. It’s not enough.

Your demons materialize on your shoulders, prepared to fight your morality. The neon beer signs in the window sing a siren song. Temptation wins in the first round, she’s a seductress not to be outclassed. 

The gravel crunches under your feet as you cross the parking lot, kicking up little clouds of dust in your wake. Inside, you swerve between the pool tables, crossing the dimly lit space in a beeline to the cigarette vending machine for a new pack and matches before lasering in on an empty stool at the bar. Tunnel vision. 

Cold beer soothes the burn in your throat from the tequila shot you slammed before you even settled your full weight on the barstool. The liquid waterfalls down your throat until the bottle runs dry. The surly bartender replaces it with another, and her eyes flick from yours to the empty shot glass and back. 

“I’ll just stick to beer for now,” you answer. A barely perceptible snicker yanks your attention to your right. He’s smirking to himself, trying to hide it with a swig from his bottle. Your scowl softens by a hair as you rake your eyes down his profile. Strong features, sparkling dark eyes, well-groomed, and an open collar that teases you with a glimpse of the skin of his chest. His look piques your interest. But that smug curl of his lip raises your hackles as you return to your mission: a neurochemical intervention. Maybe he knows where you could procure a lobotomy if nicotine and booze don’t help. 

You slam the second beer, signaling for another. Your head weighs heavily on your shoulders, but you can start to feel the warmth of the alcohol blooming within your chest. A welcome warmth despite the suffocatingly thick air in the bar. You feel the layer of sweat coating your torso. The skin bared on your thighs sticks to the vinyl stool, but you don’t care about being warm and sticky. Your assignment is simple. Get the liquor to your brain before you recruit Smug Mustache and Silent Barkeep to your crew. She can drive; he can be the lookout. Accomplice to arson shouldn’t be a hard sell.

You smile to yourself at the thought. 

The tiny muscles in your face start to relax, and the line between your brows softens. The racing thoughts get quieter, and you can process your environment more easily. The clack of the billiard balls on the pool table, the rock ballad barely audible over the buzz of the patrons. A variety of mostly bald or bearded men occupy different seats, and women with brassy hair and loud laughs hold all the secrets. You and the man seated next to you don’t quite fit the demographic, but nobody seems bothered. 

You slide a cigarette out of your pack, and before you tuck it between your lips, the man next to you pushes the amber-colored ashtray he’d been hoarding towards you and offers you a light. 

Leaning towards him, you’re hit with an intoxicating rush of spicy aftershave, leather, and tobacco. You seize the opportunity to take in his features head-on, inhaling deeply while he unabashedly sweeps his dark eyes over you in turn. Sinfully dark, they flick back up to yours. He drags his thumb across his bottom lip, and you’re entranced momentarily by the need to feel that plush lip between your teeth. 

Sex. 

That could work. Ease the restlessness and the deepening impulse to scream. Maybe that’s the third ingredient to your impulsive master plan. 

“Thanks,” you exhale, breaking the heady silence. The rush of nicotine entwined with alcohol begins to replace the rage in your veins. Vengeful racing thoughts are replaced with a mantra. A dull pounding in the back of your skull. More. You smile. More. More. He tracks your mouth as you press the cold glass bottle to your lips. You swallow and swallow. He raises one eyebrow, head cocked, as you drain the bottle. 

“I’d offer to buy you a drink, but I’m not sure you’d taste it at this rate,” he teases in a voice thick as molasses. 

You consider your frenzied rate of consumption. Might be time to slow down. 

“Maybe you could convince me to savor it,” you challenge. He nods and orders. He studies your lips as you take another drag from your cigarette. More. He doesn’t shy from holding your gaze. Not when you smile or when you look him up and down again. You usually aren’t so forward. The cocktail of substances and the emotional hangover from your failed reconciliation emboldens you. But, one tiny crack fractures, and for a brief moment, you’re gone. 

Your eyes lose focus. Disconnected from your body, the bar, and reality. He watches with amusement. He knows that look. He wears it often. 

Your thoughts flash and crack like a lightning storm. Nate’s face. Livid, red, and sputtering foul insults at you. Enraged that you’re drinking, smoking, and desperate to whore yourself out to the first man you see. Worse. You don’t care. Nate wasted your time and shattered your goodwill. You want to be set free. Erase him and his pathetic voice altogether. 

You take another sip and another drag, hoping one of them will detach his grubby claws from your conscience. You blink, and the horrifying hallucination is gone. 

“Drinking to forget, cariño?” the man you’d been staring past interrupts your thoughts. His tone is genuine. But why? Is that his schtick? Offering to fix broken women with a well-timed light and teasing glance?

“Something like that,” you muse, taking another drag. You hadn’t realized how close you were sat until now. It’s intimate. Smoke curls in a delicate dance between you, alluring as it winds and flares. You feel drawn to him, connected by chance. Something new to focus on. To study. He watches you with such intensity you note. Unwavering. Too sober and too shiny to be a regular old barfly. It’s not a bar full of singles. He’s out of place. Maybe he got lost along a warpath like you. Good. More.

He’s still watching. Waiting for you to elaborate? You let your knee slide forward until it’s pressing into his firm thigh. “Just trying to feel something,” you answer honestly. 

“Mm,” he takes another swig, and you watch his neck in slow motion as he swallows. 

“And you?” 

“Same goal, I guess,” he confirms. His hand drags slowly down his thigh and slides onto your knee. Your mouth parts at the contact of his palm. A new fire rips through your veins, but it’s not rage. More. 

“Would you say it’s working?” you gesture to the bottles coated in beads of condensation on the bar top. 

“No.” He stares at you openly. His carnivorous mouth splits into a grin. 

His boldness makes a giggle bubble up in your throat. You tilt your head back with a laugh. Your hair slides behind your shoulders, exposing the delicate flesh of your neck.

“No,” you repeat in agreement. You match his physicality and grasp his own thigh firmly with your hand, studying his face for any hint of a response. “It’s not enough,” you add, dragging your hand further up his leg. Slowly. 

“You’re looking for more, cariño?” he dares with cloying charm. Yes! More!

You might've rolled your eyes at the whole situation if you weren’t so many drinks in with a sinister desire for escapism. You’ve barely spoken to each other, engaged in an elite-level erotic staring competition instead. 

The best you could do was exchange names. 

“Javier Peña,” you repeated back to him. Deciding if you liked the way it sounded on your tongue. You wet your lips. 

“Just Javi is fine,” he counters while leaving enough cash on the bar to cover both your tabs with a generous tip. 

“Smooth, Just Javi,” you bait, looking at the cash and back to him. He flashes a wolfish smile back. It makes you want to fuck him right here on the bar. More, you scream at him with your eyes. 

He removes the nearly finished cigarette between your much smaller fingers, takes the last drag, and stubs it out in the ashtray. 

If you weren’t so aroused by everything about him, you’d chastise him for trying to get you out of here so quickly. But you feel it rolling off of him, too. It feels like taking a narcotic. Time is syrupy and slow. You feel your smile sticking longer than you meant, your eyes linger hotly, and you squeeze his upper arm harder than intended. It’s an addictive rush to feel your desire reciprocated. And with such urgency. You take in his height and broad frame now that you stand face to face. He stills. Observant. You don’t need any more time to decide what you want. You need to feel him and only him as soon as possible. 

“Let’s go. Now,” you order as you lead him out of the dingy establishment into the clear night. 

You expect him to cage you against the cool metal of his pickup, but he’s a suave gentleman opening the passenger door for you instead. Fine. You slide across the bench seat just as he’s turning the key in the ignition, pressing your curves into the side of his firm body. Restless and grabby, your fingers dance over him, unsure where to start when he grips your chin in his large palm and tilts your face towards his. 

Rage flashes behind your eyes at his interruption. Never far from the surface, ready to lash out.

“Be good for me, cariño,” he says sternly. 

“Oh, I’ll be so good,” you purr, dragging your hand down his chest towards the bulge in his too-tight jeans and batting your lashes before he grabs your hand. 

You huff, indignant. Rolling your eyes. 

 “I’d like to give you my full attention.”

“You can have mine.” 

“No.” 

“Who put you in charge?” you spit out with a fierceness. 

He laughs, harsh and mean. You flush with irritation, recoiling like his grip suddenly burned. What is this? You thought you were reading everything right; you’re in his truck, ready and wanting. Frustrating man. You need something to ease your anger, or you’ll spit venom. 

He leans into your ear like he has a secret despite the privacy of the cab of his truck. Dragging his voice over broken glass and gravel, he murmurs, “You want to feel something?” his hand is suddenly wedged between your legs. “You want more?” He squeezes tight, pressing his fingers against the seam of your denim shorts, and you choke back a moan. His spiced scent fills your nose. You feel his smile against your ear. Your head spins. Yes. You need it now. No games. Your nails dig marks into his wrist, pleading. 

“You get to touch, but I don’t? What is this, Javier? Afraid you won’t last?” You jeer at him. 

His hot laugh fans down your neck. Your body betrays your mind in search of friction. Shamelessly, your hips roll against his hand. 

“Such a sharp tongue,” he tuts at you, pulling back to look into your eyes, “for such a needy pussy,” he pulls his hand away. You fight to still your body and level his stare, feeling the heat of anger and lust in your face. He lists his demands. 

Be good for me. Until we get home. 

Simple. 

Then I will give you what you need. 

Bold. 

Something different washes over you, but you keep pushing at him. 

“And what do I need, Javi?” 

“Need to be stuffed full of this cock until you forget what ‘more’ means.” 

Soaked. Your traitorous pussy floods your already ruined panties. But you can’t shut yourself up. You have to push him harder. 

“Awfully confident, Javi. Hope you aren’t the type to oversell and underdeliver–” Your snide remark is cut off when he covers your hand with his and presses it into the hard bulge in his jeans. 

“Does it feel like an oversell?”

You barely hear him over the sound of your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. No, it most definitely does not feel like an oversell; you refuse to admit it out loud. He grazes the edges of his teeth down tender skin. At the slope where your neck meets your shoulder, he snaps you back into reality with a sharp bite. A small gasp escapes you that he definitely doesn’t miss. 

You catch the smirk. Cocky bastard. 

“Now,” he demands your attention, “you’ll be good for me all the way home.”

It’s definitely not a question, but he stares like he’s waiting for a response. 

You fold your hands in your lap begrudgingly and nod. But something in your chest blooms brightly. The dance for dominance does exhilarate you. He grips your upper thigh like he’s the only thing holding you to the earth. Like you might fly out the window if he lets go. Or, like you might crawl into his lap, sink down onto his cock, and cause you both to launch through the windshield when he crashes into a ditch. 

His fingers tease under the edge of your shorts, white-hot flesh against flesh. You’re wired.

You direct him to your place. It’s close, and you’ve no patience. He doesn’t argue. 

..

You lead him into your home. He doesn’t take you ferociously against the back of the door. Infuriating. You behaved all the way home. He’s a curious juxtaposition of lewd and polite. Restrained, he takes his shoes off at the door and asks for a glass of water. Like he’s your neighbor invited over for tea. But, you can feel the carnality radiating off him as he watches to see if you’ll show good manners. More.

“That’s good, cariño,” he praises, soft and raspy, taking the icy glass from your hand. “Show me your room,” he instructs. How is it your turf, but he’s still in charge? You glare at him briefly before you acquiesce and traipse down your hallway to your bedroom. 

He places the glass of water on your nightstand, still full, and turns to assess you. You furrow your brows. Was the water some kind of test? Whatever. You behaved in the car. You behaved all the way to your bedroom. You’re nearly dizzy with need. Every breath feels like a lifetime.

His golden skin glows in the lamplight. You’d describe it as angelic if he wasn’t driving you mad. Morbid desire crawls under your skin, itchy and tense. He gestures for you to sit on your bed, and you do. If he insists on leading, you’ll follow. 

You fold your hands in your lap again as if awaiting his next command. He cradles your cheek in his palm, and you look up through your lashes. You are not the saint of patience; your fingers twitch with the urge to tear his clothes into shreds. Why is he taking his time? Your mind is racing for a snarky comment when he interrupts your thoughts like he could hear them. 

His touch is so gentle. Patient. Like he’s experienced in domesticating rabid animals. 

“Shhh, I know,” his voice is earnest. Not teasing. Not mocking. 

It catches you off guard. Grounding you. Strange. 

His expression seems to slip into something unguarded as well. A moment of understanding. You see him. Something is building in the distance in your mind. Like the shore is receding before a tidal wave hits. But it’s too quiet without the waves breaking on the rocks. More.

“Make me feel something, Javier,” you reply. 

It hangs delicately in the air. You aren’t provoking or begging. It’s a genuine expression of your desire to run from your internal state.

“I intend to,” he confirms with confidence. Like that’s the permission he was waiting for, the wait is over. Your lips connect. He kisses you with a bright and burning passion. Plush lips and wet tongues slide together expertly. Sharp little nips pull whiny melodies out of you. Your hands tug and pull at his hair, shoulders, and shirt. It’s not enough to just have his mouth. 

“More,” you demand into his tongue. 

“So needy,” he condescends, and you feel your cheeks warm. 

He peels off your shirt, and his hands fly to exposed breasts.

“No bra?” he tuts as if he didn’t put that together while ogling you at the bar. You shake your head in response as he kneads at your soft skin. “Of course not.” He pinches at your nipples with precision, pleasure bridging on pain coursing through your body. You feel your chest arch towards him for relief, deep moans falling from your mouth. You want him to consume you. He looks like he might. 

..

Javi hums at the way your body responds to him. Pliant but strong. You move into his touch, seeking intensity. He increases pressure and maps out your body. 

He lets all his thoughts be filled with you. Your warm skin and soft vanilla scent are hidden until his nose trails behind your ear. You freely let all the sounds and breath spill from your mouth as he caresses you reverently. He wants to know how many sounds you can make. 

You were a delightful surprise, crashing into the bar next to him. He recognized the look in your eyes. He’s going to give you what you need. Because you want it. And because he wants to drown himself in it. He feels drawn to you somehow. 

..

Despite how good it feels to have his hands and mouth on your body, your neglected clit aches for attention. He continues on, almost obliviously, and you reach a fever pitch that splits your eyes wide open. Possessed by one word. More. 

Your fingers come to life and work rapidly, yanking at his belt and the button on his jeans before slipping a hand in to feel. You’re struck with a surge of delight as your hand skates over his hot flesh and coarse hair. A hedonic sense of imminent victory unfurls in your core. 

“No underwear?” you tut back at him. 

“Nope,” you swear he winked at you as he said it. 

He pulls you up to stand, stripping the rest of both of your clothes off quickly. You push him back a step to get a better look at his now fully naked form. 

“Shit.” “Fuck.”

You mutter over each other at the same time. Like you’ve been compelled, you reach for him, needing to immediately taste and touch him everywhere. You knew he was a gem in that dive bar, but in front of you in your bedroom, you realize: he’s fucking gorgeous. 

Of course, he won’t allow you to touch him. Nasty man with his beautiful body and devilish disposition. He scoops you up like the petulant child you are about to become and drops you onto your back in the middle of your bed with ease. You bounce against the mattress. 

He catches the sour pout on your face as he settles himself between your legs. 

“No need to think now, princesa,” he kisses just inside your left knee, “that’s my job now.” His mustache tickles the soft skin of your inner thighs, but it’s the spark in his dark eyes that makes you squirm. You groan in frustration at being deprived of the freedom to touch him once again, but you remain malleable. 

“I need you to lay back and spread these legs for me.” 

You comply. Parting your legs wider as his hands slide towards your center. Your eyes are locked on his, and his eyes are locked on your glistening folds in front of his face. 

“Fuck, cariño, yes, just like that.” 

You curse your body for needing to blink. Enraptured with the look on his face, you don’t want to see anything else. Floating and lightheaded, nobody has ever seen you like this. Seen the truth in your eyes so easily. Seen your blaring evidence of need pooling and dripping. And still looked at you the way he does. Desperate to be touched, you are grounded in the present. No other conscious thoughts. More. 

He pulls at the skin on the top of your thighs, nowhere near close enough for your liking, but fully exposing your achy clit and fluttering entrance to his eyes. You’ve needed his touch since you left the bar, or maybe since you first felt his husky voice frazzle your brain. 

He stares and stares as you watch impatiently. 

“Such a gorgeous pussy,” he says to himself before he hovers closer and blows a stream of cool air over your swollen folds. 

You could slap him for that or scream, but what comes out is a breathy “fuck,” and you clench your fists in an attempt to remain composed through this macabre sexual torture. You feel like he’s been down there for an eternity. And still, he’s given you no relief. 

You brace for another stream of air, but instead, you watch agape as a glob of spit falls in slow motion from his lips to your clit. The barely there sensation snaps something in your mind as his saliva flows downward. 

“You just gonna look, or you gonna touch any time soon?” you goad. 

Javi’s eyes shoot to yours, narrowed. You’ve interrupted a private conversation. Vague and meaningless threats start flowing from your mouth, and you shift to reach for him when an abrupt slap to your pussy jolts your nervous system. 

Before your brain and mouth can comment on his audacity, your body betrays you. You feel the patchy flush on your chest burning and the gush of lubrication in anticipation. He clocks both signs. 

“Cariño,” he coos at you darkly. “I told you,” head shaking with disappointment, “no need to think.” He looks back down, “Now look, she’s crying for me, and I haven’t even had a taste yet.” 

Your head sinks into your pillows with an exasperated sigh. How can torture feel exquisite? Wretched man. 

“No. You don’t take your eyes off me,” the edge in his tone suggests you don’t want to disobey. 

You find the strength to tilt your head back towards him. And it’s just in time to watch as he runs two fingers up and down your glossy folds. He ghosts around your clit, avoiding what you need most until he’s satisfied with his coated fingers. He plunges them both into your eagerly awaiting hole, petting at your velvety walls. An animalistic noise that must come from you fills the room in competition with the slick, wet sounds of his fingers. 

“That’s right. Keep those pretty eyes on me while I play with your pussy.” Javi looks down to watch for himself. “You look so good swallowing my fingers,” he rasps thickly. Your walls clench and constrict around his fingers as his voice carves out a home in your mind. 

Your room is cool, thanks to the hum of your window AC unit, but your body runs hot. You’ve never had a man in your bed who was this good with his words before. It forces you to stay focused. Present and aware of every sensation. Your ex was too insecure to be vocal. Other partners lacked tact or creativity. None of them ever took charge like this or took their time. You feel your chest heaving and see the wide smile break across his face. Your skin tingles as a sheen of sweat breaks out.

Javi takes his time experimenting with the ways your body responds. He speeds up and slows down, changes pressure and patterns, tapping and tracing, petting and prodding. It’s like the nine extra settings you don’t need your vibrator to have, but better. It’s not careless. You watch, like he instructed. He seems studious, observing how you respond, scanning your face and body. Microexpressions on his face calculating and plotting. 

You flex, tense, and writhe as much as you dare, trying to maintain some control over your body. Your eyebrows are pinched, and your hips are tight as you strain. 

Javier can tell. Do you not trust him? He needs you to give in to him. 

“Let me take you there, cariño,” he urges. “Can feel she wants it; just relax for me, breathe.” 

“Fuck,” you confirm with a whisper and do your best to let go of some of the rigid tension. He maintains a steady rhythm for you to focus on. He slowly builds in intensity, and he continues to murmur encouragement to you. Breathe. There you go. Easy. 

You slowly melt into it and let him puppet your mind and body. Building and building. Breathing and breathing. Allowed to be out of control. That does it. Your climax crashes violently against your loose frame. Yes, cariño, just like that, fuck. Contracting muscles in your core pull your chest forward. Jerking and spasming, you raise with stuttering gasps. You aren’t sure if you should laugh or be embarrassed as you pant, feeling like he just performed an exorcism on you. His expression settles you. Pleased with an edge of ravenous. 

He slides his fingers from you and sits up, looming tall and strong on his knees over your damp, limp body. Your eyes are glued to his weeping cock, softly bobbing at your eye level. Saliva pools in your mouth, craving the weight of it sliding over your tongue. You swallow and blink. Recalibrating your senses and figuring out what he just said to you. 

He runs his fingers back through your overly sensitive folds to get your attention. Your entire body twitches, wrenching your attention to his face. He already has you at his mercy. 

“Close your mouth, baby,” he commands. You weren’t aware it had been hanging open and snap it shut. He laughs gently at your stupor. Enamored. Then he’s running his slick coated fingers over your lips like a debauched lipgloss. Your mouth parts to question him, and he slides them onto your tongue before a word gets out. 

“Good,” he praises, “suck.” You do. And as he drags his fingers out he replaces them with his tongue. He sucks and nips at your lips, tasting everything. The bright flavor of your arousal, the lingering beer from the bar, the smoky tobacco, and the gum you tried to sneak on your way out of the bar. It’s a potent concoction, and it fuels his thirst. You run your tongue along his neck and commit the flavor of his sweat-salted skin to memory. 

You can feel the rumbly groans filling his chest, and you’re back to needing more. Clawing at his skin and tugging at his hair. One of your soft hands finds his throbbing cock, and wrapping your fingers around it causes you to exchange throaty moans. You slip your thumb around the head, coating it in precome and using it to glide your full fist down his shaft. It’s stupid how big his cock is, and part of you is loathe to admit it. You just know he’s already aware, but a mindless so big slips out of your mouth anyway. You feel him smile against you. 

“Y’think so?” he breathes against your neck. 

You roll your eyes at him and tease, “Don’t be trite, Javi.” You tug firmly at his length. “I’m sure all the ladies you pick up in shitty dive bars fawn over your pretty cock.” 

A distant look flickers across his face before he flashes a sly grin at you. 

“Y’think it’s pretty?” Is that all he heard? 

“Oh my god,” you groan in feigned annoyance at him. 

He looks down to watch your hand stroke him and decides that is a pretty sight. 

You hope he was right in the cab of his truck. That when he fills you up, you’ll forget how to think. He pulls back from your greedy little grasp. I know, I know. He says with the marks he leaves along your skin. 

“You think she’s ready for me?” he asks as he adjusts to line up with you. You’re too entranced to respond. He slides himself through your folds, and you whimper at the pressure. He’s still waiting for an answer. He pauses and stares at your face. He gives your clit a playful swat with the weight of his cock. 

You blink back up to him, “huh?” 

“You think she’s ready to take me?” he repeats. 

“Yes, Javi, m’ready.” 

He gives you a disapproving look, for god knows why. And shifts further away from you. You feel your face shift into a pout. 

”I think she can give me a couple more first.” 

Something in you loosens, and you realize you’re defenseless. Willing.

This time, he doesn’t toy with you. He strikes swiftly. Overwhelming your senses when his fingers slide back inside of you and the hot furnace of his mouth envelopes your no longer neglected clit. He brings you over the edge rapidly with the combination of his curling fingers and the firm pressure of the flat of his tongue. 

He praises you adoringly, but he doesn’t let up. That’s it. Dámelo. Breathe. You can take it. Another. Know she wants it. Like that. Taking you further than you thought you could go. Again and again. You’re blind and boneless, a sticky mess. He could watch you like this for hours. Writhing against his fingers as his other arm wraps over your belly, holding you in place. 

“What’d you say?” he asks as you come down from another flood of endorphins. You weren’t aware you could form words. You blink dazedly before you can figure it out. 

“Please, Javi, please,” you repeat. You don’t know what you’re begging for anymore. 

His lips are pressed to your sweaty forehead. When he pulls back, a mischievous grin spreads across his face. You’re trying to think of what you were trying to communicate, but it’s hazy. 

“Doing so good for me, cariño, you deserve it now.” 

You can only nod and whisper another “please.” He slides the head of his cock through your dripping, sensitive folds. That’s what you wanted. More.

“Yes,” you chant, “please, oh god, yes, Javi, please, fuck.” You exercise the full extent of your current vocabulary in quick succession. 

“Beautiful, cariño,” his words drip over you like honey. 

“Yes, Javi, please,” you continue your chant. 

Slowly. Painfully slowly, he begins to feed his cock into you, eyes rapidly flipping between studying the expressions crossing your face and the view of your pussy stretching around him. 

“Oh god, oh,” you repeat mindlessly as he works his way inside of you. 

“Fuck” he exhales and locks his eyes on your face before pushing the rest of the way in. When your eyes widen, and your jaw falls slack, he knows the image will be seared into his memory. 

“Yes, Javi, fuck–” your mantra is cut off with a deep moan as he grinds his hips into yours. You're so full. You run your hands down his back, trying to force him closer. Trying to merge solid bodies into liquid pleasure. Transform physical vessels into the intangible. More.

He begins to slide in and out, never leaving the clutch of your warm walls all the way. His pace steadily increases, along with the intensity of the snap of his hips once he’s as deep as possible inside of you. He folds your knees towards your chest and thrusts with fervor, captivated by the way your tits bounce. 

A cacophony of lewd noises bounces off the walls in your room. Your shared panting, the rocking bedframe, the wet slip of his cock sawing into you, the skin-to-skin slap of his heavy balls bouncing against your ass, it’s all a debased symphony together. 

A delirious giggle pours from you as the realization strikes. He was right, no need to think; all you need is to feel how perfectly he fills you up. He’s not thrown by your fit of laughter. You think he knows. His mouth is moving, though. He’s speaking to you. You focus with all the effort you can muster. 

“Again, cariño. You’re going to come on my cock for me,” he breathes like he’s the one ready to beg. You obey. It takes the slightest touch, swirling your fingers around your sensitive nerves. Watching the tense expression on his face. The weight of his body fucking you into your mattress. You’re clenching around him like you could pull him any deeper.

“Fuck, that’s right,” he drops his mouth to your salty neck, “so well-behaved for me.” 

You preen at that. Breathing each other's air. 

“These legs still work?” he asks, swatting at your thighs. 

“A little,” you shrug. 

“Good.” He sits up, pulling your chest into his, breathing with you for a minute as you wrap your legs around him and settle on his lap. “Not done with you yet,” he growls into your hair. You think about the moment at the bar earlier, when he lit your cigarette for you. You hoped he’d be good. You didn’t think he’d be this good. 

“Yes, Javi,” you agree as if you know what’s next. He shifts, and you let him arrange your body as he pleases. It’s blissful. Not having to think. He maneuvers you like a doll, but you know you aren’t an object to him. Not with the way he gently rolls you onto your belly, arranging a pillow under your head. You rest your cheek against it and peer dreamily at him. He lifts your hips, propping you up on your knees, and pauses for a second to admire the way your pussy glistens readily for him. The way your smooth back arches in presentation just for him. But it’s the expression on your face, the insatiable more in your eyes, that gives him purpose. 

He kneels behind you and sinks in easily, a groan ripping through his throat as you push your hips back into him with more energy than he expected. You moan loudly in response, attempting to muffle it into the pillow. 

“Oh my god, Javi,” you rasp at him. “How can you possibly get any deeper?” you ask incredulously. 

“How are you still talking, cariño?” he taunts, picking up an unyielding and brutal pace. 

“M’not” you decide, “no thoughts.” 

“Fuck” you both echo as he hits a new angle. 

“Please, don’t stop,” you beg openly, “just like that, Javi, holy shit.” He slips one hand underneath you to play with your swollen clit. 

“Yes,” you begin chanting again. But you want him to come. You need it. You slide your own hand under his to replace it. Reaching further to feel the way you’re stretched around him. You wish you could see it. The feeling alone turns your brain to mush. 

“Javi?” you plead for his attention. You could sob with the intensity building in your core. 

“Yes?” he asks without slowing down. 

“Need you to come,” you whine into the pillow your face rocks into. 

“Yes, cariño,” he consents. 

“No, now. I need you to fill me up, please; I need to feel it,” you beg like you were invented for him in a dream. So perfect. 

“I know,” he asserts, “gonna stuff you full,” and that sends you. 

“Fuck, Javi, yes, I need it,” you sob out as your muscles flex and contract around him once more. 

He grips your spineless frame and tugs your back into his chest. You might be drooling as your head rolls into his shoulder. You register a hand squeezing at your tits as he gives you what you want. A few more harsh thrusts and he’s filling you up. You can feel his cock flexing and straining to give you everything he’s got. Javier’s rough breaths reverberate through your blissfully quiet mind. It’s enough. 

He lowers you back to your pillow, still on your knees, and he slides out of you with a soft groan. You echo it, feeling immediately emptier without him.

You stretch across the bed to fish for your cigarettes in your pile of discarded belongings from earlier or maybe a lifetime ago. 

He accepts one when you offer and, in turn, offers you the water he asked for earlier. You gratefully accept. You ask if the water trick works on all the women he picks up in dive bars. He argues that it’s not really a trick if the sex happens before you drink it, and you share a real belly laugh at that, realizing he’s right. You finish your cigarettes in a calm silence next to each other. Your mind is quiet. You let out a satisfied little sigh. 

He gets up and starts pulling on his jeans. Reality hits you like a brick smashing into your skull. Leaving blood and bone fragments across your pillow. Substances and sex are temporary. Distractions, not solutions. A fleeting release to quell your demons. The ones that reappear back on your shoulders, cackling with glee over the chaos. Your mind is back in action racing. You drag your hands down your face. Holding your eyes shut tightly. You wait, holding your breath. Listening for the sound of your front door opening and closing any second. 

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Omg megumi and Yuta are my favs after Inumaki LMAO (I’m Lowk salty that we did not get ANY lore exploration of Inumaki but maybe it’s better that way so he stays alive atp)

No the hating mainstream things to be “unique” is so eugh honestly like just because somethings mainstream doesn’t mean it’s basic…but exactly I’ve definitely lost the spark with jjk I think it just got too confusing? And I was losing the essence of the story and idk I know geges said before that that they’ve wanted to end jjk earlier but something about the editor saying no…? I feel like sometimes the lack of motivation kinda peeks through with how the story was done….which I get because writers block/art block and just burn out in general is so real I just wish circumstances were different lmao…

Also yeah the “jjk has the best female characters” ideation…hmm..it’s def better than the blatantly sexualized ones but at this point it kinda feels like a bare minimum/low standard thing that they ARENT sexualized like in most shounen content that makes people say this (i agree like wtf happened with yuki we barely saw her honestly?? Don’t get me started on tsumiki i was expecting them to take a route where maybe she’d actually wake up and play a more conscious role but what the hell was that)

NO LITERALLY im all for analysis and leaving some things open ended but idk in jjk it was just excessive that it turned into confusion like…the constant guessing and insane analysis that needed to be done to clarify things or try to parse things together is not my favorite…agreed that the story should not have to rely on deep level analysis to be understood!

Yeah I’ve definitely lost my emotional ties with jjk its just like well I got this far i might as well see how it ends

LMAO WIGGLY that made me think of a worm on a string but I see what you mean! One track soccer mind doesn’t give much room to explore lolll but it was executed very well hehe

LMAOO it’s the pipeline of shitting on side characters to loving them but I can’t with his hair cut…also don’t think he’s ugly like I guess he’s objectively relatively good looking? But yeah I never fully saw the appeal (it’s funny because I know a good amount of people who prefer him to Rin when I’m the opposite lol) and the Gojo aura LOL

THE ACCURACY IS INSANE the way I would have never known if you didn’t mention it (I don’t think I would’ve even noticed if I wrote it) the fact checking goes crazy LMAO but I love it honestly the research def gives the story more depth and feel to it rather than just a one shot/story that kinda just floats in the void of the universe or something…gives it ties to reality and an actual grounding in the world! (This was worded so badly lmao)

It’s always Karasu….I think it’s partially also because some manga scenes of him are a little goofy because they give him that smile that almost cuts across his entire face to give him that kinda evil looking smirk….and the anime style kinda striking that awkward balance of maintaining those features but not putting enough detail to go full asshole def makes it a little goofy LOL (but in art they put more effort into like the S2 trailer/teaser visual he looks great with all the shading)

And LMAOO IKR!!! I always think back to that I’m like KURONA WAS 4??? Bro wasn’t even on the field in the u20 match so I was Lowk a bit shocked haha, iirc Kiyora was also 5?? Like the discrepancy makes me laugh ik people probably developed during the second selection but the drastic change always gets me

Your tag with the arrow has me feeling idk why I found that so funny LOL

Also SHSHS drowsy allergy medicine is the worst…I hope you weren’t having a severe reaction or anything and also that you feel better soon!!!

-Karasu anon

there’s def a lot of areas where there could be more lore (rika’s character page is so odd??) just because of how many characters there are i think!! but i do feel like the story is wrapping up so some things might just be left as questions. or not, who knows!!

yeah there’s def a cycle of like thing gets popular -> everyone loves it -> it becomes so over saturated that people start hating on it to be different -> it becomes overhated -> in a few years everyone realizes it wasn’t that bad. the biggest problem w the “hating as a trend” is that it takes away from legitimate criticisms of the work, as fans will lump it into general hating for no reason.

besides just analyses being so important for even basic comprehension of the plot, i’ve noticed a lot of the storyline is dependent on random interviews gege has done. like nobara’s death only being confirmed because of an interview years after it was written is RIDICULOUS to me (even though i already thought she was dead tbh but there was enough speculation in the fandom that it obviously wasn’t clear enough in-story). things like interviews and character pages should give you fun additional information that can help you expand on a character (oh rin likes horror games!! karasu is scared of the water!! etc etc) but it shouldn’t be the MAIN source of KEY info on a character. idk i think a lot of people love what jjk could be at this point and not necessarily what it is.

YESS i honestly was not super pleased by the female characters in jjk!! they are cool, and they COULD be well written, but they aren’t. i think in terms of its contemporaries, demon slayer does female characters better than jjk (again, not saying they’re perfect because they aren’t, but, say, shinobu is a stronger character to me than even maki).

jjk is a sunk cost fallacy for me HAHA i’ve been into it for over 2.5 years now so i have to see how it ends but i don’t really care atp what happens 😭 i’m like an unbiased outsider…idk it’s sad i wish i could’ve stayed invested but i only even know leaks are dropping because my social media blows up whenever they do.

OMG i also think rin is better looking than sae but i find sae easier to write for some reason?? idk why 😫 like sae is canonically only interested in soccer at least rin likes horror stuff but honestly between the two of them it feels easier to separate sae from soccer than rin?? if only marginally so hahaha. sae occasionally expresses regret at only knowing abt soccer so i feel like he’d be more willing to open himself to new experiences if sufficiently prodded whereas rin is SO invested in soccer (because soccer = his relationship w his brother) that he doesn’t even seem like he could have a proper friendship w someone let alone an actual relationship 😔

it really is always karasu…i do think manga can get away w exaggerating certain features (ex karasu’s smirk) that anime can’t so they have to figure out a way to balance it — maybe it’s the static nature of manga vs the motion of anime?? although karasu hasn’t been smirking much in pxg vs bm 😕 give my boy his swag otoya back!! HAHA but i also think he was such a background character in that one scene of season one that they just didn’t gaf abt him. he’s looked really good in all of the s2 promotional material so i have faith he will be done well!!

KURONA AND KIYORA MY RANDOM AHH KINGS 🙏🏻 they came outta nowhere but they’re slaying atm…ig the hundred goal thing only tested a very specific aspect of playing soccer?? like shooting without anyone on you which doesn’t really translate to an actual game 🤔 like in bllk vs u20 they needed defenders and midfielders who wouldn’t necessarily score but were integral to the game 👆🏻 plus they didn’t all go in at the same time so better players like tabieitaken and shidou were ranked lower than randoms like tokimitsu probably just because they entered later 🤷🏻‍♀️

it wasn’t that bad!! i just got like overwhelmingly sleepy because i haven’t taken any in forever so i just crashed instead of staying up longer like i usually so haha. but i’m hoping to get the one shot out soon!! it’s pretty dumb but more karasu content is more karasu content 🤩

[celestie0]

hello ellieeee!!!!

your responses always have me crying ngl!!! somethings you tell me are so precious to me that they make my day, iloveyousomuch!!!

kisses for you here 💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

i’m sure you’re the most fun person to be around in real life, at least id be having the time of my life with you.

i hate kaito and i love for writing him so despicable and annoying. i aspire to write a character like him the way you’ve done.

it’s one thing to let people know about our experience and it’s a whole different level of evil to pull them down to your level of failure because you’re insecure and jealous. kai falls in the second category.

nobody else could tell??? i’m sure they didn’t point it out like me. hopefully, i always panda kun to be recognised!!! he’s my favourite character in jjk. i love pandas in general.

it’s fine, dw, after that ending you don’t have to worry about getting a counsel to represent you for my emotional distress!

reader and geto are giving a very tough competition to kickoff!gojo. but ykw i love gojo, he’s my sweetheart. the love of my life. the apple of my eye. ishouldstop.

no because youve done justice to canon!gojo in this sense, their approach to grieving is similar, except kickoff!gojo is less unhinge and dare i say it: more swoon-worthy. i wanna be like gojo at compartmentalizing and yk just…ive had multiple public breakdowns in uni and i’m so very embarrassed by them, i wish i was more like kickoff!gojo in dealing with them. yk where he calmed himself down for our dear reader? like that. i’m still so impressed by that one scene. it’s so close to my heart. i wish people in my life do that for me. calm down instead of bursting out.

ur so emotionslly intelligent my love and ur empathy is enouhh to make me tear up 😭 ppl in ur life must feel so safe w you

you’re the only person who’s said this to me, and god im smiling like an idiot WHILE tearing up. you’ve no idea how much this means to me, itd get awkward if i start ranting about it. BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

thank you for sharing kickoff with us! it literally makes my heart melt and heals me.

i read it with stuff going because it heals me. kickoff has healing abilities. you are just not aware!

you’ve all my prayers and vibes for yourself!!!! you’re such a wonderful soul to have around (even virtually). i appreciate all of you 🥹

it’s so sweet of to be writing and entire character representing her. it always warms my heart when people love their best friends so much and actually make sure that everyone knows that!!!

STOP MAKING ME FLUSTERED!!! IM FLATTERED AS I AM HOLYSHIT I LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT READING THIS AND GRINNING LIKE A CAT!!!! ILSYM!!! YOURE THE SWEETEST OF ALL!!

🫶🏻💌

hiiii bb YOUR responses always have me crying pls 😭😭😘💋 i feel like i’d lov hanging out w you too haha 🤣 its giving picnic hangout on the beach w champagne vibes LOL

and yes very true ugh kai is despicable but i really hope he wasn’t comically awful 🤣 i realized in writing ch9 how fkn difficult it is to write a sort of gray character (until theyre revealed to be horrible) idk how a lot of authors/show writers do it

aw girl i hear you ab those university breakdowns 😭😭 the amt of times i broke down crying in my car pls 💀 i think my lowest point was when i full on started sobbing in the library it was so embarrassing🧍🏻‍♀️i also started crying in front of my professor once during office hrs n he didnt know what to do n just handed me a box of tissues 😭 i wanna disappear……but thats besides the point lol. yeah compartmentalizing can be useful sometimes but i think it’s super healthy to let emotions out too for sure :”) but no fs if only i had the composure of gojo in that scene in certain cases haha. it’s like blondie in this is me trying “my words shoot to kill when im mad” thats so me 😭😭 i shld be better ab that

AWW ofc ab the comment u highlighted n also for sharing kickoff :””) im so happy my words made u happy, i really mean them!

and aaa yes my friend isnt even a jjk fan bahaha but she said she’d read kickoff if i started posting it so i had to tribute her somehow 🤣 plus i use her for reference for a lot of the film major stuff so it was the least i could do (lol sort of funny note but when kai mentions working shifts at a movie theater bc he thought a director would notice him……my friend has actually done that LMAOO i kinda roasted her for that 💀💀 yikes)

OFC MY DARLING I LOVE TALKING TO U N BOUNCING FEELS N IDEAS N EVERYTHING OFF OF YOU YOU’re SUCH A JOY <333 ilysm i hope u have a wonderful day 😚💕

[awkwardspontaneity]

Is this a new request? definitely YES!

I recently read Russian reactions with different universes.

And some of them pushed me to this request

In general, this request is such that to the character (for example, hmm... Fyodor Dostoevsky) his future self comes, and he begins to ask this future self questions about his "future", about what he is doing there, started a family and the like (I'm not explaining very well, I hope you understand me). I have not yet seen such a reaction according to the Legend of Zelda, so I will wait for such a head cannon with Link, Revali, Teba, Sidon. thank you very much in advance. (if I'm Russian by nationality)

Okay I got sick and haven't touched requests for so long I'm so sorry😭 Also idk why this ask confused me so much but I got what you meant and this sounds really adorable!!!

Also thank you so much for all your requests!!

Link 🗡️

When I tell you this boy would have all the questions for his future self.

He holds it all in especially before calamity hits but we know how much emotion he holds in. We've all seen the screenshots. Link = sassy boi.

He needs to know what happens next. He doesn't even care about the scars littering his future self, blast torn skin messily healed over. Are you okay?

Future him laughs as if he knew that would be the first thing out of his mouth. He laughs, assuring young him that you're okay (this is in a timeline where you're somehow alive after the 100 years.)

Future Link smiles as he talks about how you're alive and well, the fond way he talks about how you still scold him for training in the rain is how Link knows he still has you even after everything.

Future Link asks if he want to know how he got the scars (batman reference😜) but link is far too distracted with the amount of questions he has about you

Do you still have the same scent that makes him feel at home? Did you finally get that hair style you wanted? Were you finally the family he dreamed of? Settled down at that house he had put a claim on once from a quest?

And luckily for him, he got all the answers he was looking for. Yes. You were in love despite his scars, and all the trauma you two shared had only brought you closer than ever. You had everything you both could ever want.

And your scent was different now. It smelled like a new life. A happy home for the future.

Sidon

Okay idk how exactly this works and it could be seen as wierd but I've decided idc. In my brain Zora age like animals do and in a year or two they're full grown.

So imagine baby Sidon. Y'know, the little guy from the DLC. He meets this giant fish man and like we all did, went 🤩 and when he finds out that's him?! He's losing his mind

So I headcannon that he met you once in passing and decided that he was gonna grow up and marry you.

And now that he has the opportunity to find out if older him kept that promise he needs to know

Luckily for him, you became an adult around the same time he was full grown and adult him happily informed him that you would accept his courting gifts

Older him did make a comment about how he should avoid the rare smelly seaweed because according to humans that's not a great gift

Sidon asks if you really loved him and older him grins as he shows him the wedding ring he keeps on q necklace under his cravat

Let's just say young Sidon made quite the scene when he found out

They talk about how gorgeous you are and with giggles they talk about how you have a habit of walking too fast and slipping into the water

Sidon loves that he'll be big enough to catch you every time because he would never be crazy enough to stay away from you

Sidon says that you'll stick with him no matter what and you never care about your differences, you say they make you closer and young him is left with smiles for days

He runs into you after talking to his older self and when you wave at him he smiles because he knows. His future is complete with you

Revali 🐦

Okay so I'm gonna talk about teen Revali for a sec

Angsty boi (think ur not my dad! meme)

So I'm gonna say that he knows you as a teen but more as that clingy person that won't leave him alone

You're a constant in his life, pestering him about taking care of himself and eating and not training for 6 hours straight...

But he can't help but feel his feathers- fluff up in pride when you tell him how amazing he is and how his hard work is worth something

I could write a whole story about how he snaps and pushes you away out of embarrassment only to realize how much you had become a part of his life and he needed you but anyways...

Adult Revali has entered the chat!!

Revali tries to act unimpressed because obviously he would be chosen for such an important task as helping to defeat Ganon

Unfortunately you decide to walk up to the duo and after learning who he is make a comment about how he really grew into his heroic role, you even jokingly swooned which caused both Ritos to puff up their feathers- one in pride and the other in embarassment

It's only after the teen has shood you away that future Revali says how lucky they both are that you're so persistent

Revali finally asks the question that he had been ignoring

Would you really stick by him like you promised?

Smiling the older Rito says you do so much more than stick just around leaving a warm feeling in Revali's chest as he thinks of you

Finally he loosens up, asking more questions about if you still thought he was a hero in his supporting role? did you still come to bother him while training with hot cooked meals?

And you did. No matter how much Revali let his ego control his actions and puffed out his chest to hide how small he felt, you would stay by his side.

A consistent form of love for the Rito warrior that felt like he could never stop pushing himself

After future Revali left, the young Rito did something rare. He went to find you and just sit. Watch the stars and talk.ayhe even plan out how to confess his feelings. Anything if it was with you

Teba 🦅

Alright so I'm gonna start this off by saying you're a descendant of Revali which means tiny birdo!!!

So when Age of Calamity happened and the future Champions went back in time to save the OGs you went with Teba

Crazy enough when you were sent back you appeared in the fields where a group of young Rito were playing. A group that included both of your little selves

I think Teba would be the most suspicious of these two people who appeared. Why did that guy have the same markings as him?

He looked at adult you and then he knew. He'd recognize those pretty feathers anywhere

So he marches right over to interrogate this grown up him when young you squeals and hugs adult you. You didn't even give him time to protect you and be the bug strong hero like in your game😭

Anyways you take yourself over to meet your friends ignoring that they're still your friends when you grow up. You two and Saki tall about feather styling and the pretty bead in your braid signaling your marriage

Teba being the smart boy he is takes note of the matching one older him sports and his jaw (beak¿?) drops. Cue awkward pointing as he stares in awe while future him laughs

Yes, he learns, yes he proposes and yes, you say yes.

The first real question he asks is if he'll ever best you at archery to which he is told no...

Both yous laughed loudly at that one

He finally whispers his real question after fluffing his feathers back down

Does this mean you really love him?

Pls hug this boy I love him so much😭🥰

Future him tells him that he won't ever have to worry about losing you because you never even look someone else's direction.

You're his and he is yours. Nothing could ever change that, not even a rocky trip through time