#I think there are just so many moving factors that make him both miserable and lucky and resentful

[midnight-mismanagement]

Yes which makes watching him so fascinating, entertaining, frustrating, and deeply upsetting! I love what you said about how he’s the one who is probably implausibly saved the most by chance, despite the fact that he is trying so hard to control his destiny. The more he tries to control, the more things fly out of his control. Despite his best efforts, he usually ends up making things worse for himself until chance saves his butt, and yet, he is deeply resentful of characters who he believes have had anything “handed” to them, who have been awarded by chance or good fortune, like Bates swooping in to be made valet when Thomas was anticipating the promotion, or Molesley being made valet for Matthew (he has a particular resentment against valets lol), Tom moving up into the upper classes through marriage, or O’Brien hoping to push for Alfred to move up the ranks despite him being new. He thinks he has to scheme to get anywhere, when arguably, scheming is what holds him back (but there have been times, as you mentioned, where him taking control over his fate has saved his life, which sort of reinforces his idea of the necessity), but even if he was perfectly nice, he would’ve still been passed up for Bates, and Molesley. Which makes him failing upwards so many times deeply ironic. He does work for things, but in ways that may hurt others or himself, and he does not usually achieve his original goal, but through circumstance, he may be given a reprieve, mercy, or reward in some other way (though it usually walks hand in hand with a healthy dose of karma, or the understanding that although he has had a good turn today, it will likely not last, case in point with attaining the Valet position when Bates was in prison. His future was uncertain if/when Bates got out. This of course, only reinforces his job insecurity.) 

He is also afraid of being ostracized, sacked, and isolated for something out of his control, so he pushes people away, both through his spite and resentment, and through his own fears that he would like to pretend he doesn’t have. He would like to pretend he is above wanting anyone’s approval, or friendship, and resents the parts of himself that still want to fit in, so instead he attempts to lash out in ways to assert he is above it all, and to protect himself from what he believes may be potential threats (and sometimes just cause he’s bored, I’ll call that season 1 Thomas). And sometimes because he is resentful of other people’s good relationships that he does not see as possible for himself, like Bates and Anna. This is a cyclical effect, in which people do not like him because of his behaviour, which causes him to push people away even more, until people usually don’t believe him when he does have good intentions, which only reinforces his confirmation bias. Andy is an example. People warn Andy of Thomas’ sexuality (something he has no control over) which is likely reinforced by his behaviour (people don’t really trust him to have honest friendship as a goal due to his standoffishness) which leads to Thomas’ isolation and thus, his continued resignation and resentment. When Jimmy left and he was once again alone and wanted to “fit in,” he tries to change his nature, not his behaviour (he tries to “choose his own path” and is told he can’t. Ouch.) 

He does not believe he can have an honest friendship with no strings attached and without losing the attachment in some way, without him exerting some form of control, and then finds himself in situations where he has none. With O’Brien, they both had teeth, and it was a matter of time until one won out over the other, which makes it so striking when he actually admits defeat, because, this is Thomas, he is always trying to control his fate, and yet she manages to break him. (I actually find it endlessly fascinating that Thomas, although he gave Bates the code phrase “her ladyship’s soap,” he doesn’t actually reveal to Bates what it means, even though it would make sense for him to do so at this point in time. It comes across to O’Brien as both an offensive and defensive move, but it remains defensive without her knowledge.) Jimmy meanwhile, was a huge disaster of miscommunication made worse by O’Brien’s manipulations, and Thomas had to get beat up for him for a friendship to form (for anyone to believe in his good intentions). 

Baxter is different. Thomas tries to use her as a tool to ensure his job security (whether it be imagined or from experience from always being on tenterhooks as a result of both outside factors and his own fuck ups), and he resents her friendship with Molesley, and views her standing up to him and taking his power away from her (which, coincidentally, almost got him sacked) as a betrayal to him. Then, after his awful treatment of her, she keeps...being nice to him??? What. Fake news. Must hide and ramp up the pushing away, clearly there is a defect or she’s just waiting to do something. And then she still helps him, even after he confesses to the letter thing (I saw that confession as like, one last check, she would have every right to abandon him, and yet he gives her the full knowledge of that for her to rightly make that choice and leave him at his most vulnerable, and she still doesn’t.) Then, full Barrow Loyalty UnlockedTM.  

I didn’t mean to dive into a whole character analysis or whatever this is, but just, yeah. Also, that picnic scene where he tries to turn over a new leaf right before he attempts to give up for good just hurts me. It’s like, he is finally trying to be nice and useful! To everyone! He brings the bottle Ms. Patmore forgot, he attempts to save Andy from embarrassment, he is constantly offering help, only to have the last of any of his purposes stripped away. Andy doesn’t need lessons from him anymore? Clearly that means they probably won’t be friends anymore since Thomas won’t be useful to him. No one needs his help? He should’ve seen that coming. He is gently rebuffed by everyone because they all are being polite, and it’s just a casual, well-meaning, “hey, you don’t have to inconvenience yourself, Thomas,” (and they’re probably a little confused at him even offering to help.) So what he hears is, you have no place, you have no use, you have no purpose (even though that wasn’t the intention of anyone at that picnic). 

HE IS NICE TO MR MOLESLEY. He hopes he will make more of his life than Thomas ever made of his own. He hopes he will have a purpose and a place, that Thomas no longer feels any hope for having himself, as a result of both outside factors, and his own behaviour and choices, and the constant interplay of all three. 

And Molesley remarks on how weird he is acting. 

And Baxter catches on. I think what makes me saddest about this, is, Baxter has seen the worst and the best of him, and she has not left. She is likely the one to have defied his fears and expectations the most, and he was going to leave without saying goodbye or anything at all because he knew she knew him the best and she would’ve noticed something and stopped him. AGH.

It’s just. He is such a lucky, unlucky, tragic, conflicting, frustrating, entertaining character who often just perpetuates his own misery. Maybe he would be better off if he tried to relax and stop trying to control everything, but he can’t fully let himself (”it’s being nice what got me into trouble,” etc,) and when he tries to let everything go and accept his situation, let Downton go, and try to turn over a new leaf in a new job, he is LONELY and miserable. And then it is, once again, through chance, that he replaces Carson. 

Just. What a guy. The universe is both conspiring for and against him.

(Also, if you couldn’t tell, Baxter is the real MVP.) 

Thomas Barrow is such a funny character, it’s like, man wants job security, proceeds to go about attempting to secure his job and land promotions in ways that will ensure his prompt termination. Somehow against all odds he continues to be rehired/accidentally promoted to everyone’s disbelief, including his own. Some suspect divine intervention is involved.

[darlingshane]

room for you

Sam Rossi x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2,8k

Summary: Your relationship with Sam is not advancing as fast as you'd want to, and finally you decide to take a chance and confess your true feelings.

Content/Warnings: explicit, angst, smut, vaginal sex, so many feelings, mention of divorce and past relationship.

A/N: This is my first work for Missionary Monday @bernthirst-events. Come join us!!

– Read below or at AO3.

Tonight’s date with Sam leaves a terrible taste in your mouth.

You've only been out with him a handful of times in the past month and given his hesitancy, and that you just went through a divorce, things are moving slower than you'd want to. Though you enjoy each other's company, there's a barrier between both that impedes you from confessing your true feelings. You don't wanna jump the gun too soon and scare him away after what you've been through; and he clearly has his own reasons to hold back, too.

During your dinner today, there was a very annoying factor, out of your control, that interrupted your precious time with Sam. As you were finishing dessert, you saw your ex-husband walking into the restaurant. You tried to look away, hide your face somehow, but he quickly found you, anyway, and had the nerve to approach the table to ruin the only good thing you have in your life right now.

Marrying that man was the worst decision you made in your life; divorcing him was the best you ever did. You'd think once it was official he'd leave you alone for good, but he's dead set on making your life miserable for the rest of time because, according to him, you stained his family name, and embarrassed him with a pesky thing like a divorce.

Your ex's offhanded comments put a dampener on what's left of your date, and when Sam drives you home, neither of you say a word about what happened. After pulling up in front of your house, you glance at him, and he leans in with some reservations to kiss you goodnight, but his lips barely touch yours before having you climbing out of the cabin of the truck feeling completely down and ashamed for reasons you shouldn’t be.

It’s a pity and as stupid as it sounds, you were actually looking forward to sharing that moment with Sam. It's something he’s offered since date one. Just a kiss of his lips colliding with yours always made you forget for a minute all that sadness and dread you carry on your shoulders. It gave you hope for something more, and right now, you just feel like it might never happen again after tonight. You can’t help but think this is maybe too much for him and that you’re not really worthy of his affection.

It unsettles your stomach and worsens your affliction, and after an hour or so of being unable to fall asleep, you just follow a sudden impulse of slipping into your clothes and drive up to the motel because you can’t keep wondering if he wants you or not, and you should find out now, rather than later.

In the short drive to Sweet Virginia, you concentrate on gathering your thoughts and putting together what you’re going to tell him.

As you park the car, you glance at his room’s window to see that he has the light on. You take a deep breath, step out and anxiously approach his room.

You shyly knock twice on his door, and when he opens, he stares at you, puzzled by your presence at this hour, before inviting you into his room without so much as a word.

Perhaps this was a bad idea, you realize as you set your feet inside, noticing your pulse going through the roof.

You close the door behind you, and lean back against the other side to keep yourself steady, as his eyes remain fixed on you, waiting for an explanation of this impromptu visit.

You’ve never seen him this late, to be honest. He still has his jeans on, but his shirt and boots are gone. There’s faint music playing somewhere, and you glance at his bedside table to see he has the radio on.

“I uh…” your words get stuck in your throat.

So much for bravery.

“It’s everything okay, sweetheart?” he finally asks, brow drawn low in a deep furrow.

You simply shake your head and swallow thickly before saying, “you didn’t kiss me goodnight.”

His lips pull up at one of the corners, seemingly amused; though you didn’t say it to be funny.

“I did kiss you.”

“No. That wasn’t a kiss, Sam. That wasn't even a peck.”

“You’ve come here to tell me that you didn’t like my kiss?”

“It’s not just that,” you heavily sigh, finding the speech that you’ve been rehearsing in your head during the car ride, “look, we’ve been doing this dance for a while, and I’m sure you’ve noticed that I like you, and that I want more. I need more. I… I thought you did too.” You pause, and gaze at the lamp for a beat, hoping he’d say something, but he lets you continue with your rambling, “I know tonight was weird. I’m sorry he ruined our date, but if you thought for a moment that I have feelings for him or something, you’re wrong. That’s been over for a long time.” You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second, “if I’m putting you on the spot right now… I’m sorry for that, too. I know that maybe I'm a little too much and too complicated for you, but I’m not asking you to marry me. I just wanna be with you, Sam. You make me happy, but if you don't have room in your life for me… Say it, and I won’t ever bother you again.”

He pulls his eyes away from you for a long moment, considering your words.

“Okay, I guess I got my answer,” you take his silence as a very telling sign that he doesn’t wanna be with you but doesn’t wanna break your heart either. So you turn around and reach for the doorknob.

“No, It’s not that, sweetheart,” he says under a sighed breath, staring at the tremor of his joined hands, held up mid-waist.

“Then, what is it, Sam?” you barely glance over your shoulder to look at him.

“I was trying to be considerate. It’s a small town, people talk, and I know how he treated you,” he slowly drawls, listing reason after reason, “I wanted to give you space, and time, so you could heal, be yourself, and see that there’s so much more in the world than jumping into a relationship with the first guy who’s nice to you.”

You turn slowly to face him again, letting his words sink in.

“It's not very considerate of you to assume what I want or need. That's up for me to decide. I know who I am, and I've already seen what's out there. Just because you have a piece of information about me doesn't mean that you know everything about me or what’s best for me.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Cause I’ve never told you that I've felt dead and empty for years, and the first time that I've felt like myself again was with you. And you say you wanted to be considerate, but you weren't. If you were… you'd have stayed away from me.”

“You're right.”

“That's all you have to say, Sam, that – I'm right? What about tonight, you just wanted to give me space too?”

“No,” he looks directly into your eyes as his jaw tenses, and his sweet voice changes, giving away a pent-up anger he hadn't shown before as he explains, “I wanted to kill him for the way he looked at you tonight, and the way you held my hand for dear life when he came to the table and I… when I dropped you home, I drove back to the restaurant, took a good look at him without getting out of the truck, and came back here, cause I'm as much of a coward as he is. I don't know what I was thinking, but I know that I shouldn't have left you like that… ”

“You're not a coward,” you let out a shaky breath, having your eyes welling up.

“I am,” he scoffs.

“You're not,” you repeat, slowly bringing your hands up to hold his face, letting his bear pickle your palms, as your thumbs rest on his cheekbones, “I know what a coward looks like, and that's not you, Sam. Would you really do something like that for me?”

“I'd do anything for you, sweetheart,” he confesses, taking one of your wrists and pressing his lips on the inside, “does it surprise you?”

“A little,” you exhale, relieved as that weight gets lifted off your shoulders, “I'm sorry I caught you off guard. I just couldn't hold it any longer.”

“It's okay. C'mere.”

He closes the small distance between you, tucking his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. You curl your arms around his neck, noticing his face pressed at the curve of your neck, and his nose inhaling the scent of your skin for a long time while you sit still in that tender moment, not wanting to ever let go of him, and vice versa.

Some of your worries fade into the dark the longer he holds you, as the radio plays an old song that you vaguely start swaying to without even realizing. He's hugged you before, but nothing like this indulging, heavenly embrace. Your stomach flutters as your fingers slide at his nape, weaving Sam's curls absentmindedly, garnering a pleased hum out of his lips. He pulls his head slightly back, and you're taken aback by the way he holds your stare, having his soul bleed out of those sweet browns, before letting the sudden urgency of his lips capture your mouth in a deep, breathtaking kiss. It takes you a second to respond and match that raw energy of his tongue that makes your knees tremble.

Totally invested in that intense, sloppy exploration of each other's mouth, you forget how to breathe. It also goes unnoticed when your back is once more pressed against the door by his hands holding your hips firmly against it. You can only focus on the sweet taste of his mouth and the warmth igniting his skin beneath your palms. He slowly becomes a furnace, consuming the little air you have left, invading your space as he presses his whole body against you.

If he ever held back, he sure has unleashed all himself now, and it all clears any doubts you had of him earlier.

Sam had been dying to have you like this, and he's determined on making it up to you for that lame excuse of a kiss he gave you earlier.

The signs of his body are truly eye-opening. You feel it in your mouth and palms, in the grip of his hands, and the swelling of his bulge closely pressed against your hips.

Just as it started, it promptly ends, unwarrantedly, with him pulling his lips away and resting his forehead on top of yours as his breathing catches.

“See?” That wasn't so hard, wasn't it?” you exhale, petting his beard with both hands.

“It is pretty hard, actually,” he remarks, amused.

“I've noticed.”

You both laugh softly at the same time.

Unable to fight that whim lingering at the tip of your tongue, you inhale deeply before capturing his lips one more time. It comes slow and oh so tender this time, it makes your heart swell in delight when his lips bounce thrice against yours.

“You wanna?” Your cheeks heat up, tugging at his belt as a hint.

“Yeah, I wanna,” his voice rasps before kissing you one more time.

He then takes your hand and walks you up to his bed. The covers are slightly messed up in the side he had been laying, and as you swallow in anticipation, you take off your shoes by the foot of the bed.

Sam reaches with his hands and starts undoing the buttons of your flannel shirt before pushing it off your shoulders. Your head leans forward, and you kiss his collarbone as he grabs the hem of your tank top and pulls it over your head, exposing your bare torso. Your skin comes ablaze, having his fingers running up your back as he undresses you.

As much as you'd want to jump right into it and get it over with, you take your time, appreciating every precious caress and kiss and hug he offers when his arms lock around you, reveling in the heat of your body that is just as warm as his. He whispers how beautiful you are against your hair as his hands misbehave, slipping down your back to grab your ass. You smile at the curve of his neck, and give him a nibble, before taking a step back to slip out of the rest of your clothes.

He watches enraptured as you push down your jeans and underwear before timidly laying on the mattress, biting your bottom lip. You lean on your elbows, and set your knees apart, offering yourself to him.

Staring at the tempting sight of your body, bathed in the honey-yellow light of his lamp, Sam mumbles something under his breath, and undoes his belt and fly. Halfway through pushing his bottom layers down, he props a knee on the bed and as he climbs on top of you, he shimmies out the rest of the way out of his boxer briefs and jeans. He touches your belly button with his lips, and drags them up up to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses and beard tickles.

Sam nestles between your legs, prying them further apart as his soft steel erection slots against your slicked folds. Propped on one elbow, he caresses your hair and captures your gaze before immersing himself in the depth of your mouth once more. His hips rock delicately against our pussy, so you can feel the length and thickness of his cock in all its extent as it swells harder with every stroke. It rubs in all the right spots, stirring a new wave of arousal that makes you moan against his lips.

Taking that as a hint, he makes some room for his hand between your bodies and gingerly guides the blunt head of his cock and half his shaft to breach your opening.

“You okay like that, sweetheart?” his stare and hand go back to your face.

“Yeah, I'm good. M'good,” you repeat, soothing your palms slowly down his broad back.

Sam starts moving at your cue, ever so carefully at first, as he buries himself further inside you, inch after inch, stretching the tender confinement of your walls.

Your lips part in a silent sigh, as he rocks back and forth, enjoying the cadence of your hips moving along with his, a little off tempo.

There's nothing but adoration held between his stare and yours. You get lost in the dark of his eyes as he makes love to you for the first time.

Once you're used to his size, your eager palms land on his ass and press, asking him to go harder and per your whims, his thrusts come gradually more enthusiastic than before.

“Is this what you wanted?” he purrs over your lips, driven to indulge all your desires.

“Yeah,” you exhale, half smiling, “I wanted all of you.”

Your hands travel from his ass up to his shoulder blades, marking your nails on his back as you get caught in that crucial spot where every muscle of your body tenses and aches, queuing that inevitable orgasm.

“Come with me, Sam, please,” you urge him as you get closer and closer.

Following your wishes, his thrusts come sharper, and stronger. The sound of your moans makes his cock twitch at your desperate pleading. And just a couple of pushes after, he spills all his seed as your walls contract in a big tight squeeze for a moment before enjoying those delicious after flutters pressing repeatedly around his cock.

Both of you are overtaken by a similar storm of elation that has you giddy and breathless as it courses through your body like wildfire.

He hasn't come in a while like that, not with another person at least. And your sex drive has been pretty low for a while, so tonight it was like putting two missing, intricate puzzle pieces that needed to slot together for the sake of completing the picture once and for all.

The room becomes blurry while the orgasm ebbs, and you're sure there are tears striking down your cheeks of pure joy. You feel Sam's beard scratching your skin when he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You love how his weight feels on top of you, as overwhelming as it is with all the sweat and steam emanating from both bodies.

“We should've done this a long time ago,” he sweetly drawls when his breathing returns.

You smile to yourself and send a hand to pet the wet curls at his nape, as he kisses your neck.

“Yeah, we should have.”

[cringecompanionapologist]

Top 5 Worst Days for Turlough

Okay maybe I'm as bored as I implied in the last post but this isn't a top five you're gonna find anywhere else.

Basically, here are five stories where very bad things happen to Turlough from least bad to most bad. Obviously, these are my perceptions and other people might not be put this in the same order. Also, I haven't seen everything, so I might miss something big and just not know.

Also, this turned out really fucking long because I just had to rant about number 1.

Number 5: Loups-Garoux (Big Finish Audio from 2001, written by Marc Platt)

I'm only putting this one at the bottom because Loups-Garoux is mostly a comedic story and Turlough seems to recover fine. He sees a vision of his dark side so terrifying he jumps out of a moving train and gets eaten by a werewolf, who spits him out because he has silver on him. Unlike in many of these examples, the Doctor seems a bit upset about this. But, this almost feels like business as usual.

Number 4: Trap for Fools (Big Finish Short Trip from 2018, written by Stephen Fewell)

Okay, this one might be a bit of a me thing. I can get a bit overly sensitive about the subject of mean teachers. In order to find and defeat the Monster of the Week, the Doctor has Turlough go undercover as a student at Space Brendon, basically. The Doctor seems completely oblivious to Turlough's misery and doesn't do much to help him through reliving experiences he was willing to kill to escape. This is another one that's mostly played for laughs, with most of the Horrors Turlough faces being mild bullying and a teacher pronouncing his name wrong on purpose to be a dick, but Turlough is actually intimidated by the mean teacher and mentally categorizes the other students by how much of a threat they might be and is just generally miserable the entire time.

Really, there's one bit that made me decide that this belonged on the list because it's really sad:

Someone please hug him.

Number 3: The Velvet Dark (Short Trip: Farewells from 2006, written by Stewart Sheargold)

The Master shoots Turlough with the TCE, making the Doctor think he'd just casually murdered him, only to reveal that he shrunk Turlough without killing him to make him a more manageable hostage. The Master places him in a box and shakes the box around when the Doctor hesitates in cooperating with him.

This story starts with the Master faking his death and the Doctor, Tegan, and Turlough attending his funeral. Tegan doesn't get why the Doctor is sad that the guy who killed her aunt is dead now. Turlough also doesn't get it, but he doesn't have as much of a personal reason to hate the Master, so he tries to be patient and Tegan seems kind of jealous that the Doctor listens to him more than her.

After being returned to his proper size, Turlough hates the Master just as much as Tegan does. The Doctor, apparently unable to truly hate the Master, kind of treats them both like the bad guys in this.

Number 2: Frontios (TV Serial from 1984, written by Christopher H. Bidmead)

An actual TV story! Tractators. Trion, at some point in the planet's history, was attacked by this story's Monster of the Week and now all Trions, regardless of when they were born, remember the Tractators on some level. It's never explained how this actually works, but Turlough personally had probably never heard of the Tractators until he saw a tunnel and a massacre just showed up in his brain. The Doctor awkwardly hands him off to the one-shots to go explore the tunnels, not knowing what to do about all this emotional stuff.

You'll notice that the Doctor's response to whatever happens to Turlough is a major factor in how I rank these.

Anyway...

Number 1: The King of Terror (Past Doctor Adventure novel from 2000, written by Keith Topping)

It isn't even close. The novels of the Wilderness Years (1990-2004) were aimed at an adult audience and there were very few limits on what sort of situations the Doctor and his companions could end up in. So, sometimes, shit got dark. I usually tend to find these morbidly funny, because saying things like "The Doctor and Dodo meet the Marquis de Sade" and "Doctor Who's Cannibal Holocaust" is fun. It just is. Shut up.

These books vary in quality. Some actually do interesting things with their darker subject matter while others are just sort of edgy for the sake of it. The King of Terror is in the latter category and is annoying as hell about it. I could go into way more detail about every stupid thing that happens in this book, but the Turlough stuff is the most interesting stupid thing, because of how fucked up it is.

So, Turlough, feeling a bit OOC on a trip to Los Angeles in 1999, goes to a bar, gets completely wasted, and chats up local girls trying to get laid. Then one woman stands out as hypnotically sexy, introduces herself as Eva, and invites Turlough back to her place to have sex. Turlough is too drunk to notice that this is moving a bit fast.

Anyway, Eva is actually a member of an alien species called the Jex who are trying to take over the world. They want to terraform Earth to be more like their homeworld, which has a hotter, thicker atmosphere, but their human slaves wouldn't be able to do hard labor in those conditions, so they want to genetically modify the humans to have higher heat resistance, among other things. There's something wrong with Jex DNA, so they need the DNA of some other alien with higher heat resistance.

The CIA, wanting to see where this is all going, tipped the Jex off that some aliens had just showed up in LA and Eva went out to kidnap one. Turlough then spends like half the book being experimented on to both confirm that he's an alien and that he's the right type of alien.

It's a lot of torture. I'm not even going to say any of what happens. Here's one screenshot of Turlough reflecting on all the torture happening to him that is vague but sums up why I'm not going to elaborate:

(Note: There actually is a reference to something specific in here and I apologize in advance)

Meanwhile, the Doctor and Tegan find out that Turlough's missing. Tegan seems to think that they should do something about this, while the Doctor comments jokingly on how often Turlough gets captured. He eventually gives Tegan the day off to take her mind of things, leading to a really stupid romance subplot, while he does absolutely nothing to find Turlough.

Turlough eventually very brutally murders Eva in an understandable lapse of sanity and escapes. The Doctor isn't even there when he gets back and they reunite "offscreen". From that point on, the whole subplot is basically dropped. The Doctor asks Turlough if he's okay, he lies and says he is, the Doctor knows it's a lie, but he's glad for a chance to act like it never happened.

So, it really sucks to be Turlough and I'm now exhausted.

[kierreras]

This is a little rant that contains spoilers.

i don’t get when bellyjere just say that the cheating plot is the only reason belly and conrad could’ve been endgame because that’s not it. the cheating is one thing but the underlying issue that made jeremiah cheat in the first place is the fact belly was disconnected from him and she will always love conrad more than him. he always knew this.

yes, he cheated and that broke something in their relationship but let’s not act like their relationship was not going to implode sooner or later because it already was. belly will never love jeremiah the way she loves conrad and not being with him would always be in her mind.

so the issue is not “they had to ruin jeremiah’s character” the issue is that jeremiah was a replacement. a second choice. and he knew this and still decided to pursue a relationship. belly was too attached to her only unstable relationship and the love she feels for jeremiah to break them up plus wanting to convince herself conrad isn’t the love of her life.

maybe them not getting married at all was the best thing because that marriage was going to be a miserable affair for the both of them.

thank you for such an interesting rant, i cannot agree more with what you said! the thing that i don't understand with bellyjere is why jere supporters would want him to be with someone whose first choice is not him. make it make sense, please. i know that it's a topic for another rant, but still. for me it's obvious that belly was never fully into her relationship with jeremiah in the books. several times she specifically stated that she always feels some kid of pull towards conrad, she was never able to move on from him. in the show belly specifically said "there's only you, conrad". it's pretty clear who's in belly's heart. and jere's cheating was a catharsis that made belly realise that her and jeremiah want different things from life. also, belly was struggling even at the beginning of the third book because her and jeremiah are very different - she's not the social butterfly like he, she's not one of the popular kids, she doesn't like his group of friends, etc. so we can also add those things to the list of the reasons why belly was disconnected from their relationship. and above all those things there's also conrad, who she can never escape. so yeah, at one point bellyjere relationship was doomed to explode cause there were so many other factors involved. i think the books and the show are doing amazing job at foreshadowing the outcome of the series cause, putting aside me being bellyconrad girlie, i can see the signs that jeremiah and belly would not work in the big perspective. so i think cheating isn't a reason, i think it's mostly an outcome, you know. and yes, belly and jeremiah made the best decision for everyone by calling off the wedding. i remember that i was soooo relieved when reading last chapters of the book. even if the bellyconrad's outcome wasn't really clear at that point, but i was just so thankful that belly and jere aren't ruining their lives by that marriage.

[shanie-the-toyaddict]

He Used To Be Mine - Part "This isn't going to make sense but whatever"

He Is Gone (But He Used To Be Mine)

Rating: T Characters: Kevin Owens, Sami Zayn Pairings: Kevin Owens/Sami Zayn Tags: Angst, Fluff with angst ending, Post Survivor Series: War Games, Past Relationship, Flashbacks, Tiny reference to sex but nothing NSFW Word Count: 3236

.....

Kevin has so many memories of Sami Zayn.

Memories of life, love, joy, and sadness. Twenty years of his life spent with Sami. With, against, alongside, however it was for them at the time. Sami was such a fixture in his life that if you had told Kevin just five years earlier that he'd ever reach a point where he was ready to say goodbye, he'd have called you a liar and then kicked your ass for even suggesting it.

But now, a short few days after getting his heart broken at Survivor Series, Kevin has reached that exact point. Far from "Nothing without you", Kevin has arrived at "Nothing with you" and he isn't looking back.

Well.

Maybe he's looking back a little.

......

This story is posted here as something of a teaser. The ending of this story isn't going to make much sense due to Parts 5 and 6 of the saga not being written/posted yet but I'm throwing it up on here in case anyone wants to read it in the meantime. It won't be going on AO3, not just yet. That context from 5 and 6 is far too important here.

Anyway, story under cut.

October 2017

“Oh god, help. Kevin, help.”

Sami was gripping his stomach. He’d eaten too much. They both had. An entire turkey feast, just for the two of them, in celebration of their renewed partnership. The turkey hadn’t been terribly huge, but factoring in the green beans, the stuffing, and the potatoes, it was far too much food for the two of them.

But then, the point of the meal had been to give thanks, so Kevin was willing to help make it. Still, even he had to admit it probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Why did we think this was a good idea, Kev,” Sami lamented, “You know, I’m trying to stop eating meat, why would you do this to me?”

Kevin let out a long breath. “One last hurrah? If you’re gonna go veggo, you should say goodbye right.”

“This was supposed to be a hello, Kevin, not a goodbye. A celebration, not us stuffing ourselves into oblivion.”

“Are you mad? You cooked most of it, wasn’t it good enough?”

Sami shook his head, “No, food was great, I just...”

A loud burp escaped Sami and he quickly covered his mouth.

“Nice,” Kevin remarked.

“Yeah, well we’re going to be miserable tomorrow. Just be glad we aren’t scheduled to be back on the road until the weekend, I need to sleep this off.”

Kevin let out another long sigh before getting up and starting to gather the dishes. “You know, Sami,” he said, “I didn’t tell you to have thirds on stuffing. That one was all you.”

“I can’t help it. If I’m going to be vegan, I need to get used to eating a lot of bread.”

“Like you need a reason to eat bread.”

“True.”

Sami pushed back his chair and got to his feet. Kevin moved beside him, reaching for the remains of the potatoes. Kevin didn’t know what made him look twice, maybe intuition, but as he glanced back at Sami, he realized Sami was wobbling a bit. Faster than Kevin knew he could move, he put the potatoes down and took Sami by the waist, holding him steady.

“You ok there, Sami?” he asked.

“Yeah, just... I’m not used to eating like this anymore. Maybe I should go home...”

“Maybe you should go upstairs and take a nap.”

“Maybe. I suppose I could, I mean...”

Sami’s voice trailed off and, suddenly, Kevin realized just how close they were. His hands were still on Sami, not quite in an embrace, but the closeness was undeniable. They’d only been friends again for two days and everything was new again. The way Sami looked at him, without resentment or fear. The way Sami would smile at him, and his eyes would shine.

But then, there was something always creeping around the edges of the fond gazes.

Anxiety. Nervousness.

Almost as if Sami didn’t want to believe it was real or, more likely, couldn’t believe he’d made the choice he did. Kevin would be lying if he didn’t have the same thoughts, doubt and disbelief weighing down his heart that somehow, through some impossibility, Sami had returned to him.

Forgiven him.

He didn’t deserve Sami, not by a long shot, but as Kevin stood as close as he was to Sami, close enough that Kevin could practically feel Sami’s breath on his skin, Kevin was silently praying that Sami didn’t regret his choice.

Somewhere in his brain, the tiniest thought was building. The thought of how easy it would be to lean forward and kiss Sami, right there in his dining room. Kiss him and claim him. Show his hand and his heart and make it clear to Sami how much he needed Sami, how much he loved and wanted Sami...

“Kev, you with me?”

Sami’s voice brought Kevin out of his thoughts and, quickly, he released his grip and stepped back.

“I’m ok,” he said quickly, “Go on. There’s a spare bed upstairs waiting for you. I can clean up.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want – ”

“Go to bed before you pass out on my table. I’m not dealing with you breaking my dishes. Or my table. Go, Go!”

Sami’s grin was broad and bright and he headed for the staircase. Kevin watched him go, his heart beaming at how happy Sami seemed.

Sami was partway up the stairs when his foot slipped.

“SAMI!” Kevin called out as Sami fell, sliding back down the staircase and landing in a pile at the bottom. Kevin was at his side in moments. “Sami, oh God, Sami are you ok? Please, are you...”

Kevin stopped.

Sami was... laughing?

What the...

He wasn’t just laughing, he was giggling.

“Sami what the fuck. Are you – did you hit your head?”

Sami just kept laughing and, taking Kevin’s hand, he pulled himself up. “I’m fine,” he said between giggles, “I’m ok, I promise. I’m just so, so...”

Kevin was still in disbelief as Sami leaned forward, placing a quick peck on his cheek.

“I’ve missed you, that’s all,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“You’re in my house,” Kevin replied, “I live here.”

Sami’s grin just got bigger. “Then I’m glad I’m here.”

Kevin’s mind began to stutter. There was no regret or hesitation in his voice. No doubt, no anxiety, no sign at all that he was questioning his decision.

Almost as if he’d finally found peace with his choice.

Still, Kevin had to ask.

“Are you happy, Sami?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be soaking in the adoration of the masses? I’m sure they’d take you back, maybe if you smacked me with a chair or something...”

“Kev,” Sami said, looking at him like he was being silly. “Trust me. There’s nowhere I’d rather be. I promise.”

A weight the size of a planet lifted off Kevin’s shoulders.

They really were back.

….

January 2018

“How many black hoodies do you own, Sami?”

Sami was sorting laundry in Kevin’s hallway. It wasn’t like Sami didn’t have his own washing machine but ever since they’d started dating, Sami had been spending as much time as he could at Kevin’s house. They weren’t living together, it was far too early for that, but Sami had brought enough of his things over from his house that he could spend the night whenever he wanted, even setting up a sajjāda so he could do his prayers.

Kevin had to admit it was nice, spending so much time with Sami. More than nice, it was everything he’d ever dreamed of, Sami with him, in his life, in his bed...

Kevin watched as Sami threw yet another black hoodie on the pile of darks.

“Seriously, Sami,” he said, “Do you wear anything else? I mean, ring gear is one thing, but you don’t have to wear the same thing every single day.”

Sami frowned, looking down at the woefully uneven piles of laundry. “What else am I supposed to wear?”

Kevin huffed, heading over to the piles. There was a small pile of lights sitting in the corner and, reaching down, he pulled a white and blue striped polo shirt from the top of it.

“You know,” Kevin said, “you used to love these things. Whatever happened to these?”

Sami shrugged. “I don’t know, I just outgrew them? They don’t look as good on me now? I have no idea; I just don’t wear them much anymore. Why, do you think I should?”

Kevin tossed the shirt back on the pile and stepped closer to his lover, wrapping his arms around Sami’s waist. “You don’t have to,” replied Kevin, “You can wear whatever you want. I just think you should vary it up a bit.”

“Yeah, but if I vary it too much, how will people know it’s me?”

Chuckling, Kevin replied, “Please, nobody would ever mistake you for anyone other than Sami Zayn. Or, maybe, Seth Rogan, but that can’t be helped.”

Kevin leaned forward, stealing a kiss and Sami smiled.

“Besides,” Kevin added, “You’d look good in anything. You’re fucking sexy, you could wear a burlap sack and I’d still want you.”

Sami ducked his head bashfully. “You just want whatever I’m wearing on your bedroom floor.”

“Damn right.”

Kevin kissed him again, on the cheek, and fuck, Kevin would never get bored with that. Kissing Sami was the best thing in the world, he could kiss Sami forever and never be sick of it. A million kisses, kissing him every day for the rest of their lives.

There was nothing better than kissing Sami.

Well, nothing except one thing...

“Get the laundry on,” Kevin told his lover, his voice turning low and sultry, “I have a great idea for a way to spend the afternoon.”

Sami bit his lip. “Mmmm, is it the same way you want to spend every afternoon?”

Kevin just grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Geez, Kev,” said Sami, “You’re going to kill me.”

“Not a chance.”

Kevin's hand traveled downward, and, with a quick squeeze, he let go of his lover and stepped back.

“I’ll see you when you’re done,” Kevin told him, his voice practically purring.

He watched as Sami’s tongue ran across his lips before, moving much faster than before, he returned to his sorting.

…..

April 2018

“Come on, not again,” Kevin grumbled.

Sami was patting the spot next to him on the white couch in the middle of Kevin’s living room.

“Please, Kev?” he begged, “Just one.”

“No!”

It was another night at home. Well, Kevin’s home.

They weren’t really living together.

They’d been together for four months by that point and even Kevin knew that would be moving way too fast. Not that they hadn’t taken their time getting together, but as far as dating went, they were still feeling things out. It was cozy, being with Sami, but frankly, the guy still got on his nerves...

… especially when he was doing something as dumb as trying to get him to watch yet another stupid food show.

“I don’t understand how you watch those things, Sami,” said Kevin, “It’s not like you could or would eat half that stuff. More than half, shit, ninety percent of the food on those stupid programs you wouldn’t go near, why the hell do you keep watching them?”

“It’s about the process, Kevin!” Sami insisted, his voice halfway to a whine. “Please, just... we just got our jobs back and we have to go back on the road full-time next week. Can’t you spend time with me? Please???”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “God, you sound pathetic. Which one is this anyway?”

“Triple D. I know you like this one, come on. Sit with me.”

Sami had a point. Kevin did like that one.

He shook his head. “Fine. Which one is it this week, and don’t tell me it’s another pizza episode, those just make me feel bad.”

“No, that was last week. This one has seafood. Here, sit.”

Sami patted the couch again.

“Ok, you win. Let me grab a drink.”

Sami grinned broadly, tapping his feet back and forth with a giggle.

Kevin didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Sami’s nonsense.

Actually, he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Sami period.

They’d spent so long trying to thrash each other, beat the shit out of each other, hell, Kevin had at one point been determined to end Sami’s career.

And there he was, spending his nights off in some form of domestic bliss with the only person he’d ever wanted to.

Ok, maybe not domestic bliss.

They still fought. They still argued and tried to kick each other’s asses and Kevin would be lying if he said he didn’t find Sami annoying on a regular basis. But he’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t happier than he’d ever been. Sami, finally his, however that had worked out.

It wasn’t perfect. But then they never would be. Best to take what he could and the rest would work itself out.

Kevin opened the fridge, looking for something cold to drink.

Water. La Croix. Tea. More La Croix. Iced coffee. Still more La Croix.

Kevin shook his head. “Sami, did you ignore the shopping list again this week?” he called into the other room.

“What’s that, Kev?” came the shouted reply.

Kevin hung his head before grabbing a bottle of water and heading into the living room.

“You know, Sami,” Kevin told him, “I’m gonna stop letting you get me groceries if you refuse to buy me drinks I like.”

Sami’s eyes went wide. “Wait, did I forget the Pepsi again?”

“Yeah, you did. You know, I texted you a list, it wouldn’t kill you to look at it.”

“Sorry,” Sami replied, “I’ll remember next time.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I will!”

“Bullshit. Last week we had to call AAA to get into your car because you somehow remembered to lock the doors but forgot totake the keys out of the ignition. Seriously, the one time you lock the damn car.”

“I’m trying, OK?” Sami protested. “Can we just watch the show? There’s this Bosnian diner on this week that I wanna see. They make this awesome Cevapi and...”

“Wait, did you already watch this?” Kevin asked sharply.

Sami froze. “Uhh...”

“You’ve already seen it and you’re watching it again.”

Sami’s eyes were pleading at that point. “Please? Yeah, I saw it, but I want to see it again. Besides, it isn’t about watching it again, it’s about watching it with you.”

Kevin’s heart did half a somersault in his chest at the way Sami was looking at him. His eyes soft, emotive, and full of love as if the television could be showing a documentary on paint drying and he’d still want to watch it with Kevin.

Kevin smiled.

“Ok,” Kevin said, moving to sit beside his lover, “But I get the remote.”

“It’s your house,” Sami said, handing it over, “I’m just glad you let me spend time here.”

“We’ve been dating for months, Sami, why wouldn’t I?”

“I guess.”

The was a moment of quiet between them before, leaning over, Sami smacked Kevin on the cheek with a loud, messy kiss. He pulled back a moment later, giggling and satisfied with himself. Kevin grumbled and wiped his cheek.

“Damn it, Sami, don’t steal my moves.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kevin lifted the remote, starting the stream. The opening advertisements sprung to life as Kevin put his arm around his lover. As he did, Sami leaned closer, snuggling close in a manner that couldn’t possibly have been comfortable but was unequivocally Sami Zayn.

Sami sighed against him, and Kevin pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Sami’s head. It was just a TV show, sure. And even Kevin had to admit Guy Fieri was entertaining. But really?

The company was the best part.

…....

December 2022

Memories.

So many memories.

The staircase, the laundry room, the kitchen, the living room couch.

A mantle of photos from countless adventures and excursions Kevin had taken with the only person he’d ever dreamed of sharing them with. Memories upon memories, all built in a house that had never quite lost its shine and was made infinitely cozier by the company and life shared in it.

A life with Sami Zayn.

A life that was over now.

And as Kevin looked around his now empty house, his heart was breaking.

No more washer and dryer. The fridge and couch were gone, taken to his new place.

The staircase was still there, but all it led to was more emptiness. Emptiness like the hole in Kevin Owens’ heart, torn open and ripped apart by the extraction of his better half.

Could you even call someone your better half if you were never married?

Kevin shook his head.

He’s not dead, he told himself. Stop thinking about him like he’s dead.

Kevin sighed looking around again at the barren room.

He might as well have been.

Sami had made his choice. And it wasn’t him. In the end, it would never be him.

He knew it wouldn’t be, Sami had always been better than him, he had always known he was loving on borrowed time. That the beat of his heart was being sustained by something unsustainable.

Destined to do this forever.

He should have known forever would eventually end.

Granted, it was his choice. Sami would want to fight him. Sami always wanted to fight him and, up until then, Kevin had been willing to indulge him.

No longer. Kevin was done.

He ran his fingers along the cream-painted wall. People always made comments about how ‘If walls could talk’.

Frankly, Kevin was glad those walls couldn’t. They probably wouldn’t have much nice to say. Nothing that wouldn’t gut him like a fish anyway.

True, he’d been planning on moving for some time. Florida had become a shitty place to live in recent years, between the weather and the politics. He’d wanted to leave for years, it was just a matter of finding the right place to go.

Not telling Sami, however, hadn’t been part of the plan. He’d always intended to, it just wasn’t the right time.

And three months earlier, when Sami had dared to suggest that they could hook up without strings attached, the way Sami had moaned his name but still couldn’t say, “I love you,” as if those words were offensive to him...

Kevin knew it would never be the right time.

He couldn’t even look at Sami after that. He had to escape, get the hell away from him. Hunter had been kind enough to let him take time off and it worked out great because it gave him a chance to do some packing. And now that the end had come, that he was leaving for the final time...

Leaving Sami. It was for the best.

Kevin walked through the kitchen, his fingers brushing against the black marble countertops, as if he could somehow bring back the past through lingering touches where they had once shared meals, shared their lives.

He closed his eyes tightly as the memories flooded back.

So many memories. If he could, he’d forget them. It would hurt less if he could just erase Sami from his life. Or, maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe if he had a way to erase Sami, it would make it worse.

Or just make it all go away. Kevin had once said he was nothing without Sami. Now he wanted nothing to do with him. Wherever life took him after that, it would be alone. No more friends, no more lovers, nobody who could break his heart and leave him behind in favor of some bullshit family who didn’t deserve their attention let alone their love. It was time to focus on the prize, the one he should have been focusing on all along.

Because if he couldn’t have Sami, he would settle on Roman’s titles as a consolation prize.

Kevin let out a long, shaking breath.

It really was time to leave.

Opening his eyes again, he walked through the kitchen, grabbing the keys as he passed by before heading through the garage door and locking it behind him.

And as he drove down the street away from his house the final time, he didn’t even offer Sami’s house a glance as he passed by.

[rescuefield-a]

Is Neil really that bad for Claire tho?

i... can't tell if this is a crack ask or not lmao so i will give a few reasons anyway:

- first of all neil is even older than chris, and even though he and claire both in their 30s we can assume that neil has been leading the ngo for a whole lot longer than 2011 ( he moved after fbc was disbanded so he was around at least since 2004-2005 ) and had a very unprofessional relationship with claire specifically. i think lure her closer to him was always part of the plan but at some point it was just a somewhat real relationship kept hush from HR ( claire never says he's her boyfriend in front of any of the other terrasave members for instance, but every now and then she says stuff that earn some bombastic side eyes AT IT SHOULD )

- claire undermines his leadership in so many ways and while he never speaks on it he seems kinda annoyed. he pulls her aside in a corner to ask if she has any information on stuff he knows nothing about even though he's the leader of the organization and should have direct contact with washington. even on sejm island with all his little obstacles and shit, claire always comes through and rises above. the fact that he thought he could make deals with alex wesker and walk away with no repercussion already says everything about he's not as cut to be a leader as the people at terrasave thought and the other organizations probably caught on that too

- in the hq party scene claire looks slightly exhausted and miserable, and sure it might just be that the years of fighting are catching up on her but considering her last appearance before this whole ordeal is supposedly infinite darkness, the contrast is so stark. i might be biased on this but i will still blame it on neil lmao

- neil has ALWAYS done weird shit that people let slide in favour of keeping him as their leader. claire herself says that sometimes she doesn't understand him and what he does but he's just like that so yeah, which is bullshit excuse for her pretending not to see all the red flags leading to his betrayal. her judgement was clouded by many factors but ultimately being as close as they were, the fact that she never thought to investigate on him is disappointing ( for her ). at least considering her dating record, you know

- as far as affection and love go, at the end of the day neil was okay with claire dying on that island. or maybe he thought natalia wouldn't have worked and she would have been next. that rises a point of what would have happened next like, was he going to use uroboros and live forever with claire AND alex? he miscalculated everything clearly. the only moment he showed an ounce of affection to her when he tried to reach for her face while transforming just to shove her away ( a direct parallel to CV though steve did it better in my opinion )

- he proves to not know her at all by suggesting for them to rule together while turning into a BOW. claire had already checked out of their relationship the moment she saw alex infect him "as punishment", and after that things only got worse. he tried to kill moira which like, is also a big no no to claire for obvious reasons. claire is not power hungry, and fighting bioterrorism with BOWs is just not something she's interested in. her i love you to death switch apparently turns off so fast when she's not met with the idea of the relationship that lives in her head, we've seen it happen before so again it was naive of neil to even suggest that since she basically almost ended a years long friendship for similar reasons ( but that's a whole other story i think i have given enough reasons lol )

[cartoonyappreciation]

On Growing Up:

I’ve recently graduated from college and for the first time I’m moving out of state. In a couple weeks I’ll be moving the furthest away from all my friends, siblings and parents. I’ve packed everything in boxes, gathered them all into the garage, in preparation for the Uhaul we’re renting to start this new chapter of my life.

For the past five years, I’ve prided myself on being independent, getting shit done and making every choice to put myself in the best position I can to succeed. For most of my undergrad career, I figured I would go into industry like the rest of my peers, make money as soon as possible and get on with my life. Then just over a year and a half ago, I decided to go to grad school instead.

I think it’s actually a pretty common fear for people who go to medical school and graduate school; the fear of life passing you by. Your friends settling down, having families, going on vacations, while you spend another half a decade prolonging finding your actual job. And while most of us (I assume) know that we’re doing this for a better future, having that longterm mindset can be really difficult.

I guess I don’t really know how many people actually have that fear. Maybe people who achieved a better school/work-life balance don’t feel that way. While I was doing my best to enjoy undergrad, I think I still had this underlying mindset that it was just an intermission, a countdown until the time I could get on with my life. A main factor I kept in mind while choosing which grad school to go to was that I couldn’t think like that anymore. If I’m going to spend all my 20s in college, I can’t spend it miserably. If I ended up going to a school that made me hate my future then what would be the point?

Anyway, this isn’t the reason I started making this post 😅. I actually wanted to talk about the now, this transition to what is essentially a full time job away from my family. No longer can I drive two hours just to visit my parents for the weekend. This new chapter almost feels like the end of my childhood, even though I guess there are lots of phases of childhood. It’s made me feel extra emotional lately. I feel like I’m mourning, as dramatic as that may sound.

My mom is pretty sick right now. As I walked into the kitchen to grab some water, I could hear her coughing and it sparked this memory I had from when I was much younger when I was sick. My throat really hurt and I felt terrible so I was walking downstairs. Turned out, my dad was still awake and watching something on TV while he was folding laundry or something. We both sat there eating popsicles and watching whatever was on the TV until I was ready to go back to sleep. For some reason, upon recalling this memory, tears started pouring down my cheeks. There I was, the kitchen illuminated only by the light of my refrigerator, as I stood there silently crying. While I feel pretty stupid and I can’t be completely sure why that set me off, I’m guessing I kinda miss these simpler times. My dad’s still alive, it’s not like I can’t sit on the couch and eat a popsicle with him now. Ugh, I feel like the girl from Inside Out, when all the yellow core memories turn blue. Sad that another chapter is complete, too uncertain of what the future holds to be truly excited about it. And I know I’ll be fine; I literally chose this for myself. But I also know that nothing stays the same and it’s okay to mourn the changes in your life while still looking forward to the future.

So here’s to growing up. It might be scary, but it’s all gonna turn out okay.

[doodlebug-1-2-3]

I see we are in need of some vash bishonen propaganda.

Ahh, I really not sure what to say, this contest is based a lot more on visuals than underlying character, isn’t it? I could say he takes pride in his appearance, but that’s about it, right? There’s not really much else to put but the images… I’ll try to add some personality to it though, not just an image-dump (though you’re hardly required to read all this)

Speaking of personality, while it’s not exactly a physical feature, I do want to call attention to his gentleness and kind nature. In my opinion, it definitely enhances his appearance in some scenes - he has such a kind smile, you can really see the warmth in his eyes! He’s so pretty~

It also endears you to him, which makes you more likely to find him attractive, yes? That ought to count for something. Not saying that legolas *isn’t* kind, ahaha… I do think it’s more of a ‘feature’ for vash, though, if that makes sense. It’s shown more prominently, his desire to help everyone being a driving factor of the show’s plot… I’ve gotten off topic.

Here’s little baby vash with his coat too big for him, isn’t he cute?

And aww, he’s sad because, reminder, he’s not human! He’s a member of a presumably man-made species called plants (as in power plants, seeing as they’re used as living batteries/production plants). I’ll talk more on what the plants are, specifically, later.

For now, here’s him talking to one of his sisters (in her bulb), and another featuring his gorgeous luminescent plant markings! Trigun stampede only had 9 episodes out so far, but what I will say is it’s very unlikely that his ‘plant’ qualities will stop at the markings… wings, petals, or similar unfurling are *very* likely to show, as he becomes more plant-like.

Here’s him without his coat (I am looking respectfully). Collarbones,,,

Here’s him getting shot at <33 There’s a firefight going on and he’s still the most eyecatching thing in the room.

And when he gets serious 😳😳 his voice gets an octave deeper I swear like it does something to you.

I have more images (him getting choked and stuff. lmao) but unfortunately there is no room here <33. They made him so pretty in so many scenes, and for what?? Well, I can actually answer that question. Listen carefully, I’m sure this will raise his bishonen rating!

The director of trigun stampede has actually clarified that vash is to fill the roles of ‘both the male and female lead’, narratively, both moving the plot forward and being proactive, while also meant to be ‘gazed at and desired’. Whether that’s intended as symbolic or simply fanservice is up to you, either way I think it scores some prettyboy points!

Please vote vash, he deserves a win for once in his miserable life. He is so sad.

major bracket, round 1, part 1

[sunder-soul]

As requested, a Part II to the prompt from @riddles-wifey​​ about jealous Tom!

PART I HERE! 💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Jealousy

Summary: Reader tries to avoid Tom following their strange confrontation, fails miserable, a very different kind of confrontation ensues.

Word count: 1.5k Content warning: making out, nothing too serious.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Something weird happened,” you say bluntly, falling into the seat next to Margot in Transfiguration the next morning.

She immediately looks up from her textbook.

“With Riddle,” you add quietly, glancing around the classroom to check for onlookers and potential eavesdroppers.

Margot’s brows shoot up and a wide grin splits her face. “Are you serious?” she whispers excitedly, leaning in.

“Yeah,” you mutter, pulling out your Transfiguration textbook and some parchment. “I think he thought that me and Varrowe were dating…”

“And?” Margot says immediately, so focused on you that she doesn’t notice Dumbledore stride into the room (which is rather impressive considering he’s dressed in vibrant lime green robes with glittering gold fastenings.)

“He got all mad last night when he saw us together, but then when I told him that I was Varrowe’s tutor, he…” You trail off, twirling your quill in your fingers, very unsure how to even describe what had happened.

“Yes?” Margot prompts, still grinning.

“He got all up close and… intense,” you mumble with a wave of your hand, feeling your cheeks grow warm.

Margot looks delighted. “And?”

“And nothing,” you shrug, dejectedly writing the date at the top of your parchment. “After that he just… left.”

“Sweet Snidgets above,” Margot says, shaking her head with a wry smile on her face. “You snagged Riddle.”

“I haven’t snagged anyone!” you whisper hastily, glancing around again. “And keep your voice down!”

“I’m so proud of you,” she says theatrically, completely ignoring your panic. “Merlin’s beard, wait until poor Olive Hornby finds out, she’s been planning their wedding since first year –”

“She’s not going to find out anything,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes, “because there’s nothing to find out!”

“Sure, sure,” Margot winks, “so what are you going to do?”

“Dunno,” you mutter, “I guess just avoid him for the rest of time.”

“Avoid him?” she repeats, looking scandalised. “Are you completely stupid? Why would you –”

“My deepest apologies, Miss Droope,” Dumbledore calls from the front of the room, making the both of you jump and wheel around in your seats as the entire class turns to look at you. “I’m afraid I must interrupt your conversation with the minor inconvenience of today’s lesson,” he continues with a sparkle in his eye. “Perhaps you two might find a time outside of class to continue your discussion.”

“Sorry Professor,” you both mutter, hastily bending over your notes.

Dumbledore resumes the class, but the side-eye grin that Margot shoots you assures you that you are most definitely not off the hook yet.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Your plan to avoid Riddle works right up until the exact moment that it doesn’t.

It’s a rainy Monday night about a week after the strange conversation with Riddle and you’re holed up in the library with the most gruelling History of Magic assignment you’ve ever had – a sixty inch dissertation on the contributing factors of the Giant Wars.

You throw your quill down and sigh, staring up at the droplets trickling down the dark window and listening to the relentless thrum of the rain. Your eyes are aching and your brain feels like fuzz – it’s definitely time for a break.

You get up and wander down the nearby shelves, vaguely searching for a particular text and fully intending on taking as long as possible to find it, when just like that you round the corner and see Riddle standing in the middle of the aisle.

You freeze.

He hasn’t seen you yet, peering attentively at a text open in one hand as the other traces down its table of contents. You take a slow step back, and right as you think you might get away without drawing his attention, his head swivels around and his eyes flash to yours.

There’s a very loaded pause in which you must look a lot like a deer caught in headlights.

“Evening,” Riddle says smoothly, snapping his book shut with one hand and sliding it back onto the shelf.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

“I haven’t seen you around very much lately,” Riddle says casually, leaning against the bookshelf beside him.

“I’ve been busy,” you mutter, avoiding his even gaze as you scan the shelves for the book you’re looking for.

“Oh I’m sure,” he says softly.

You grit your teeth and squint at the books in front of you, determined to ignore him.

“What are you looking for?” Riddle asks.

“Modern Gigantomachy,” you say reluctantly.

“Which edition?”

You glance around at him. He’s still leaning against the bookshelf, looking annoyingly attractive, the waves of his black hair contrasting with his skin, the fine angles of his brows above his dark eyes, the knowing curl on his lips as he watches you –

“Fourth,” you say quickly before you can get too distracted.

Riddle pushes off the bookshelf and is suddenly mere inches in front of you. Your heart immediately lurches as you take an instinctive step away and your back hits the shelf behind you. Riddle delicately arches a brow at your reaction, his eyes fixed on yours as he slowly reaches up to a shelf far above you and slides a book off of it. He hands it to you and you take it automatically.

“Thanks,” you breathe, staring at him wide-eyed.

“Of course,” Riddle says softly.

There’s another silence. Neither of you have moved an inch, and you begin to wonder exactly how many times you’re going to end a hair’s breadth away Riddle before one of you finally caves –

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmurs, a smirk building on his lips.

Your heart stops for a second. “You were jealous of Varrowe,” you blurt out.

Riddle’s smirk falls. He lifts a hand to rest on the shelf above your head, leaning over you very unnervingly. “Jealous?” he repeats sharply

“Yeah,” you breathe, slightly horrified that you’d actually said it out loud. “You were.”

Something works in Riddle’s jaw as he glares down at you, and you hug the book he gave you closer to your chest.

“And why would I be jealous of Varrowe?” he whispers.

You blink at him. Riddle is close, too close, his eyes raking across your face as he looms over you, something almost possessive about his hand above your head. There’s no mistaking the sudden shift in the air between you.

You’re leaning up onto the balls of your feet without thinking twice.

Your lips brush against his, so softly that the kiss is barely there, but enough to send your heart hammering as you pull back just far enough to check his reaction. Your cheeks are aflame and your lips are tingling, unable to believe what you’ve just done as the silence stretches on and on, as Riddle stares back at you, frozen in place with something you can’t recognise burning in his dark eyes.

The faintest frown appears between Riddle’s brow, and then slowly, very slowly, he’s leaning down towards you. Your breath hitches. His lips meet yours at the exact same moment that he steps in closer, crowding you back against the shelf, soft and warm, kissing you with a smooth, relentless pressure and you’re leaning up into it without even realising what you’re doing, thoughts swirling, heat on your skin, stomach twisting –

Riddle is pulling the book from your hands and carelessly dropping it to the floor, taking you by the waist and lifting you up as he steps in again, pinning you to against the bookshelf without breaking the kiss. Your hands card into the soft waves of his hair and his grip on your waist tightens as you wrap your legs around him. The first touch of his tongue makes you gasp against his lips, and Riddle’s fingers immediately tangle in your hair to pull you harder against him. Riddle’s mouth is moving against yours, hungry and unyielding, and you’re getting dizzy as heat curls in your stomach –

He pulls away very suddenly. You stare at him in surprise, breathing hard. Riddle’s lips are slick and his eyes have gone black, one of his hands still buried in your hair and the other gripping your hip so tightly that you’re sure that you’ll have bruises in the pattern of his fingers tomorrow.

“We are in the middle of the library,” he murmurs against your lips. It takes a lot to resist shivering at the sound of his voice.

“We… could… go somewhere else…” you manage to say, your heart racing so hard that he can surely hear it.

A small smirk builds on his face. “What about your essay?” he says smoothly, so close that your lips start aching to close the scant distance between you –

“I think technically I just had my textbook confiscated by a prefect,” you whisper with a flicker of a smile, “so there’s my alibi.”

Riddle breathes a laugh, and then his lips are on yours once more.

Thanks for asking for a sequel @bluehydrangea-cherry​ and @the-almond-dinger 💖

[jake-marshall]

For ao3 wrapped: 5, 6, 10, 11, 12, 16, 17, 18, 28, 29, 30 (you don't have to do all of them if that's too many!)

Already answered 28 + 30! Here are the rest ~under the cut~ Thanks for asking! I had fun going over my works from this year, wide array that they were.

5. What work of yours got more feedback than expected? I guess my fic about Terry, “Case Closed”? Since it focuses on my headcanon of him being aroace and thereby sinking any hope of shipping him with Alice in it, I didn’t there’d be much interest (since he is so pined after by the fanbase). But I’m glad people liked it and liked my interpretation of him.

6. Favorite title you used. Is it cheating to say “Truth or Dairy”, which I haven’t posted yet? Because fuck that’s funny (cuz Ashley is a milkman in this AU so GET IT haha). Shout out to “Fate Like a Promise, Fate Like a Cage” though, which @lemon-teacake coined, not I. But that led to our beloved fic being named “LIAM FLAPFLAC”, after its working title was “Love is a Murderer” + what the title then became.

10. What work was the quickest to write? I mean I wrote my Vanlock fic, which is 19k over the course of September. Exactly a month. Which is fast for me. Like it just came pouring out of me, completely unexpected. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. 11. What work took you the longest to write? “Crossfire” as it was a combination of writing characters I hadn’t before (or, hadn’t written as main characters before) in Bridget/Archie, plus being insanely distracted by wanting to binge-play Rune Factory x’D

12. How man WIP’s do you have in you docs for next year? LMAO I mean, I have several zine pieces alone, but outside of those, I definitely want to finish a few TGAA WIPs. Mainly my Nikolina gen, my GenBaro fic, and some sequels to “Truth or Dairy”. I’m sure I’ll try mixing some Basterds and RF in there as well.

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag? I think??? (thus far) it’s Established Relationship since both my Reinhard/Alice fics and both my Landstrom fics use that tag. 17. Your favorite character to write this year?

I really liked writing Barok – this was my first time doing so, and I didn’t have trouble with it at all, to be honest. I feel his voice fits my style. 18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? Writing Bridget in “Crossfire” was a bit difficult. It was set in Canon Divergent AU so I had to factor the situation at hand into how she would interact with Archie, plus I had to sort out a lot of my headcanons for her, too. But I’m happy with how the fic ended up.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? The first chapter of “Blank Slate” I feel is really strong on both my end and lemon’s end. And I mean out of ALL the Landstrom stuff I’ve written, this is some of The Best, and I like this part because I love to make them miserable. (or maybe I’m just partial to angsty tragic ghost AUs teehee) “Hans, you need to get out of here; stop von Hammersmark and the Basterds!” Hellstrom spits, as if Hans doesn't already know this. “Stop wasting your fucking time digging through my uniform. This is to save the Führer, to protect the Reich! Who cares about me?!” With nothing and no one else to hear him, Hans has no shame in replying, “I do.” The words have barely left Hans's lips before they're lost, pressed back by Hellstrom's mouth on his. A wicked chill enters him, fills him from head to toe and sharp enough to bring tears to his eyes. And then he's being moved, bodily, something having taken hold of his uniform by the lapels and forcing him to his feet. Not something. Someone. It's so rare that Hellstrom doesn't argue with or dismiss anything Hans has to say in regards to what they have—had—that Hans knows its his way of accepting this simple, but loaded, admission. “Then get out of here.” There's no longer venom in his tone; it's almost a plea, and there's no one else Hellstrom would voluntarily exhibit such vulnerability around. “Don't let all my efforts go to waste, if you care so fucking much.” On the word care, his voice breaks a little. Something in Hans's chest breaks a lot.

[uponrightful]

So, I love possessive, jealous Crosshair 🥵 Tell me about this scene (please?):

“Trouble doesn’t suit you, doll.” He murmured lowly, soft voice contrasting the slight pressure over her pulse point and the swell of her hip. Crosshair was all-consuming and Dutch was weak to do anything but try to stay silent under his pressing weight and commanding presence at her back.

Also, I’d love to know what Echo was thinking once Cross went to the fresher after Dutch.

You’re the best! 😘

Commentary Track for Coriolis Effect

Copy 500 words -or more- of any of my fics and I'll give you my thoughts/rambles on what was going through my head -or the character's- when I wrote it!

*send one in here anytime!*

My oh my! 😍 What spicy scene we have here. I'll start with what's going on with Crosshair first, then I'll come back for Echo and the rest of the Batch. haha

***

Crosshair is fuming with rage during his conversation with Echo: It's that kind of bodily energy you get after watching a action-movie, where your whole body feels tired, but it's twitching with adrenaline that can't be spent or released. That kind of feeling you can't get rid of no matter what you do to ignore it, or work through it. Your mind feels like it working so fast that it's in slow-motion, overanalyzing the smallest details until your grinding your teeth because there's nothing else that helps relieve the pressure.

But the second he enters the refresher all of that energy snaps from anger and fear for Duchess, into dead calm. His inner voice stops screaming and evens out in tone and his hands stop shaking. His breathing slows and the second Cross sees her standing there, it's like he's been meditating deeply for hours. This kind of concentration is only present in Crosshair one other time... And you guessed it. When he's shooting.

Note: This is the epitome of Crosshair's ability to manage impulse-control in unfamiliar -and stressful- situations. Key-word here being "unfamiliar." I firmly believe that Cross is painfully terrible at monitoring and expressing his emotions. He has so many of them all the time that from a young age he had to learn how to turn them off in a moments notice, simply so he could survive. Think about it... How can a sniper worry about his brothers dying right before his eyes and still make clean shots? Not even Crosshair can do that. So the second he's certain Dutch is safe -by visually proving her health- that well-trained nature takes over to protect him like it always does.

Crosshair -at this point- isn't sure what he wants. He needs to touch her though, remind himself that she's tangible and within reach. Not that he isn't aware of his effect on her, but this moment isn't about sexual appeal or attraction. This is desperation, and Crosshair knows that; He's just banking on the hope that she'll let him, because she's always done so. He feels safe with Duchess, and even though this feels/looks sexy, Crosshair feels completely vulnerable right now.

Note: I will say it now; Once and for all. I have never subscribed to the idea that Crosshair is a typical Dominant/BDSM/Sadisim kind of guy. And the distinction is all to do with motivation. I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out why he acts the way he does, and how that manifests itself. So when I planned this scene, I wanted to focus on just how strong his desire to have security is. Not prowess, or control. It's all to do with the desperate need he has to prove how he feels about her. That kind of vulnerability just comes easier to him physically than it does emotionally. Duchess gives him a sense of stability -in and out of the sexual sense- that makes his characterization insanely complex and difficult to balance.

The moment he finds his words, it's a compulsory need to cover his own jealousy. Crosshair is undoubtedly unhappy knowing she went out with Regs... but what's really bothering him is how easy it is to feel so strongly for Duchess. Every time he speaks, it's intentionally driving attention towards someone else, and away from his own desire to be the focus of her attention. Cross uses his fear of her being unsafe to mask the jealousy that constantly compares himself to the others who can give her attention more freely than he can personally. Duchess sees his calm nature as patience and precision, but it's really Crosshair planning out what he's going to say because he knows one wrong move will reveal just how desperate he is to have her acceptance of him.

Note: I've never struggled to balance possessiveness and love like I have with Crosshair. He's so intense that if I'm not careful, he comes off like a walking red-flag. Word choice is essential when getting Cross' character and reactions right. Whether it be the way he talks to her, or the way he naturally falls into a protector role. That's why when I'm writing for him, it takes double the time it does to write anything else. Every movement, every word he says, needs to be written like he says it in the moment. That's the only way to show his softness... because the love that he gives is best felt in person. You can't describe Crosshair's love with words easily.

Now for sweet, sweet, Echo.

Let me preface this by saying: Echo is his brother's keeper. There is a relationship there that goes far deeper than the ones Crosshair holds for his other brothers. It happened slowly, but it wasn't until the two of them were too far into it that either recognized what had happened. Their personalities are something that wouldn't really mix on first glance, but for some reason or another, they just get each other. It's natural, and they gravitate towards each other.

That being said, Duchess and Echo are their own kind of dynamic. I see them as the "platonic-soulmate" kind. She has an intensity that Echo marvels at, and Dutch knows she could take any problem to him and he would do anything to help her. They both see something in the other that they wish they still had, or could develop. It's probably the purest friendship Duchess has ever had, and Echo can't help but harken back to Fives when he sees her attitude -in future chapters.

Note: From the first moment I created Duchess, I just knew in my heart she was meant to be something special to Echo. To me, it was only right that Crosshair's doll would feel strongly connected to Echo as well. Add in their common feeling of loss for brothers, and that just made their relationship that much stronger. She's such a force, and the ARC trooper can't help but find a enamorment with people who have such a strong will and fiery personality. (See Fives)

The moment Echo sees Crosshair, he's already preparing to do anything necessary to protect Duchess from incurring another possible hit to her bruised emotions. Echo trusts Crosshair, but he's highly attentive to Cross and how raw his emotions are. Their interaction is based in Echo's desire to save the couple from losing the chance to do things the right way. Intuition and experience guide Echo through the whole conversation; He really is flying by the seat of his blacks here... But he's so well-versed in reading Crosshair that none of the other Batcher's even think about offering to be the first one Crosshair faces when he comes in the bunk hall. Echo has unmatched faith in Cross, and this was something both of them knew would happen.

Note: Writing this scene was challenging for a number of reasons. For one, neither Echo or Crosshair really talk a whole lot. They say what they need to, and that's the end of it. So I spent days watching Echo and Crosshair's interactions. Trying to figure out what I could based off the -very little- examples I was given. In that, I found that the two of them hardly ever stand next to each other, but they're constantly sharing glances and looking at each other. Echo and Crosshair have silent conversations all. the. time.

Had Echo not allowed Crosshair to go and see Duchess, their sexy scene would have never happened. (And I played around with that idea very seriously...) Ultimately, Echo's intuition was the deciding factor. That conversation, and Crosshair's attempt at honesty was the reason Echo felt confident in letting him speak to her. And although Echo could sense Crosshair's patience running thin, he'd already told the rest of the Batch to be prepared for any fight. Echo wouldn't put it past Cross to stun him, but a gut-feeling kept him from mentally preparing to do the same thing.

Additionally, it was Echo who made everyone leave the bunk hall. The second Crosshair and himself reached an agreement, Echo was the first to step away. His next move was to shove the rest of the Batch out the doors and give Duchess and Crosshair the privacy needed to work through their shit. And although he expected it to end in sex, the desire to keep their business between them alone was Echo's main motivation to empty the bunk room. Neither Crosshair or Duchess really trust the Batch at this moment -in Echo's mind at least- and risking their privacy wasn't something the ARC would stand for. In the back of his mind though, Echo was terrified that Crosshair would fuck her and leave it at that. He's seen the sniper at his best and his worst, and although his best is wonderful, his worst can be miserable to endure. Echo was praying that Crosshair wouldn't be too harsh -physically and mentally- on Duchess.

When Hunter finally decided enough time had passed, Echo was on edge to see just where the two of them would be. The image of them sleeping in separate bunks: Crosshair pretending to sleep -like always- and Duchess laying quietly and pretending like nothing happened shook Echo to his core. But the second he saw her bunk in a disarray, and her not in it, Echo couldn't help but fucking grin. He was proud of his brother for doing the right thing. For doing something for himself, and not worrying about how it would make him look for once. Add in the way Crosshair reprimanded Tech, and how deathly serious he looked with her sleeping peacefully against him...?

That was the moment Echo knew for certain that Crosshair was never coming back from this. He saw a visible change in his brother, in the way his attitude changed. The way Crosshair wasn't worried about himself, or attempting to hide behind sneers and sarcastic comments. Echo noticed how attuned he was to her in that moment, putting her comfort above all else. For a man who pretended to not care about anything, Crosshair did a terrible job of hiding his true personality when Duchess was curled up into him. And Echo couldn't be happier, knowing that his trust in Crosshair hadn't been for nothing. Not only was his brother experiencing love in a way that all of them desired, but Duchess was never going to live with the question of whether or not someone truly cared for her.

***

I hope this was what you were looking for in-terms of answers 😅. I had a great time writing this for you, and I hope you'll feel comfortable doing this again whenever you feel like it! I love sharing the behind-the-scenes stuff with you! It makes the cuts and editing feel a little less sad knowing I might be able to share some of it with you anyways!

[handemiyyy]

Nothing is black and white. Not even the things we judge to be the simplest such as a “are you a night owl or an early bird?” question. For every answer, for every action, behind it lies a very complex reason for why you picked a determined answer. In life, it’s the same. Things are multicolored, multifaceted and depending of a handful of factors combined that will impulse someone to take a certain action or opt for a certain answer. It really has put me into a lot of thinking when I found out the plot regarding Sen Çal Kapımı’s season 2, and seeing so many people start to take sides of such complex and delicate situation made me wonder that maybe people were not seeing the full picture, maybe they were seeing a plain image instead of the 3D situation presented to them.

If you know the characters’ story, you understand both Eda and Serkan’s actions are totally characteristic of them and correct in their own way. I’ll assume if you’re reading this you have knowledge of that, so I shall skip to the present situation and plot: Eda and Serkan broke up and stayed 5 years apart, but this turn in their love story has a bittersweet exception. Their child, Kiraz. Which Serkan does not know of.

EDA

Eda was asked to leave. After standing by his side through his cancer and thinking she’d finally live the life she dreamed with the love of her life, he broke up with her. They fought a lot, he let it explicit he’d never have a family, he closed himself to the world, to Eda, he resetted back to the robot-mode workaholic burying himself in projects that he forgot life. The life he had with Eda. His behavior affected her as well, that closed off too, and although they were together, they kept distancing from each other every day a little more. Until they saw that there was no point in that relationship. Eda shows that after 5 years his words and cold behaviour towards her still hurts her deeply, even making the analogy that she’s “just a toy” for him (ep 2 in the conversation scene with Burak). From her perspective, he decided to throw their years and relationship in the trash because he was the heartless insensitive man he was when they first met. Imagine you invest so much of yourself to someone just for this person to turn to you and tell you he doesn’t want to hear from you, or have you near. You’d be hurt. Especially after all you’ve been put through to be by his side and live your love freely. It was beyond plausible for her to leave and not look back (okay, Aydan?) and whoever had close insight of their relationship and how it deteriorated would agree with that. There’s only so much a person can handle. It was time Eda put herself first, especially when she was carrying a baby that Serkan supposedly wouldn’t want. She feared rejection, not just for her but for their baby, an innocent unborn child, a consequence of their love that was not the same anymore. He had said in her face that he didn’t want children, so she acted out of protectiveness for herself and her child. She couldn’t bare him rejecting the child. Maybe he would have changed his mind when she told him that she was pregnant, but she couldn’t have known that. Serkan turned into someone that was unrecognizable, even for Eda. He wasn’t just the cold workaholic we’ve seen in the beginning of the dizi, he was a cold-traumatized workaholic. So she escorted herself out of that relationship and did not think twice to come back around and tell him about the pregnancy when she found out in Italy. It was basically the logic that if he didn’t want her, why would he want her baby?

SERKAN

Serkan had to endure so much. After all the little things that consumed their relationship, after the plane crash, memory loss, he found out he had cancer. There is no way a person would stay the same after going through such awful disease. Serkan’s fear spoke louder than anything else, because he’s always been the kind of person to stay miserable and let her go so she doesn’t deal with the burden of being with him. Serkan’s hypochondria spoke louder telling him he was cured but not safe from cancer, and he couldn’t bare going through or putting Eda through that again. Even worse, leave her widowed. Probably the reason he kept postponing their wedding. During treatment he was still vulnerable, having Eda’s support all the way, trying to stay sane with all the mood changes and occasional insensitive behaviour towards her and everybody else. It cannot be put in words by a person that fortunately never had to go through or witness a person with cancer, but all of his “inconsistency” is more than justified. He never did it on purpose, it was the collateral effects of his disease, psychologically and physically speaking. After beating cancer, things seemed to have a bright future until it hadn’t. Serkan’s self sabotage knocked him down again, making him reset back to his old ways, except this time he had much more baggage and traumas than before. He shut everybody out, even the only person that he let in, and drowned in work, obsessed with “becoming immortal” through his projects. He forgot life, he forgot the love of his life. Not because he wanted to, but because his unconscious wanted to protect himself, and her. What if cancer came back? He knew very much of diseases as a person so worried about his health, he knew there were chances that it would come back. He’s gone through it once and barely survived, he’s seen the state he’s put him and Eda’s relationship through, he felt like a burden more than ever before. He didn’t want to hold her back, he didn’t want to have her stuck with him, taking care of his ill self that wasn’t even sure would make through the cancer treatment. He always felt unworthy of her, imagine now. He didn’t want children, because he feared they’d become fatherless. He didn’t want to set a wedding date, because he feared he’d leave his wife a widow. Or not make her happy. And he knew they weren’t happy. Because once he digged back down on his workaholic hole, he didn’t come back up again. It was stronger than him, he kept pushing her away and burying himself deeper. And she closed off just like him, so they both closed off in their own lonely cocoon and started to slowly become strangers again. Until one day he asked her to leave, and she didn’t see a reason to stay.

—

He told her to leave, he told her to stay far away from him because he wanted to protect her, and most selfishly, himself from more potential pain, suffering and heartbreak. He thought it’d be the less hurtful way (just like the plot of the secret about Eda’s parents accident), except he just made it worse for her. It doesn’t mean he’s a monster, a heartless human or an ungrateful bastard as many people are portraying him to be. It makes him human, it makes him a human with fears and insecurities, too aware of his own mortality and how it would affect the people that were dearest to him. Because when you’re sick, not only you go through stuff, the people around you, the people that loves and cares for you also goes through it all with you, to the point it can affect them personally too. He never came around and explained his reasons, because when he closed off his feelings were shut off. He bottled it all up and never said a thing, leaving Eda thinking the absolute worst of him and that still reflects in her hesitance about him 5 years later with an apparent normal Serkan back in her life. Serkan, now fully recovered and back to being himself, finds Eda again and everything he’s been trying to keep hidden, all the suppressed feelings and unfinished business he’s had with her, came back banging. He can’t let her go, he said it himself at that night talk. He can’t because he still needs to say a lot to her, to apologize to her even though it was NOT his fault. NEVER his fault. Nor hers, for leaving.

Serkan beat cancer years ago, but he never went looking for her. We’ve seen enough of their story and Serkan’s fears to know that he’s always felt that he wasn’t enough for her and that he’s brought to her life only pain, so it’s totally understandable why he never reached to her when he was sane again. He wanted her to be happy and free and she would only be able to do that if she was far away from him. And of course, Eda being hurt wouldn’t want to come back, wouldn’t want to keep in touch with him, so she cut ties entirely. She was on her right to not come to him when she found out about the pregnancy, because she knew he still wasn’t him. He was barely fighting for himself, living for himself, caring for himself, how would he do that for a child? But then he comes back… now what? Eda wants to run away from him, afraid he’d hurt her the way he did before. But he’s not that post-cancer Serkan, he still has the scars and the trauma but you can clearly see that he’s back to being the old Robot Bolat. He’s still closed off, but the initial scare and fear of abandonment disappeared with the passing years of him being healthy again. He sees Eda and he wants to be around her again, because he never truly wanted to part ways with her. Eda hides a secret, a secret she’s not right nor wrong to hide, she just figured it was best. And even in the first moments of him being around, it’s understandable that she wanted to hide the fact she has a child to him, as it may be a huge shock and turn of events. She doesn’t trust him, more precisely his reaction, and she’s unsure of what to expect. She needs him to give her a proof that he’s not the same unstable Serkan she witnessed before she left. She needs him to open up, he needs to open up to her. That is just it, the reason none of them could ever move forward, apart of their ever growing and intense love for each other. They still have a lot that was not talked, that was not finished, they didn’t solve their issues, therefore they didn’t heal.

Tell me how can you blame a mother for choosing her child over any possible heartbreak? How can you blame a woman for walking away after being so emotionally drained and not being able to put up with an exhausting relationship for BOTH of them? How can you blame her for not wanting to live that life with him when he wasn’t putting any effort on their relationship or on his fiancée? How could she guess what he was feeling, what he wanted to say, what were the reasons for his behavior if he closed off and never spoke a word?

Tell me how can you blame a traumatized man with so many complexities for closing off and pushing everybody away in order to not hurt them? How can you blame an hypochondriac man for wanting his beloved to be free from any strings attached to him and his disease because he can’t bare the fact he could possibly die and leave her suffering? How can you blame a human being that has gone through such a traumatic disease and invasive treatment as cancer that affects the whole being, physically and mentally, and transforms them into someone vulnerable and afraid? How can you blame this man for acting the way he did when he’s only done that because of all the fears he’s been accumulating since his childhood, his psychological traumas. How can it be his fault?

Serkan would die for Eda if it didn’t mean she would suffer for his loss.

Eda would be unhappy for eternity if it meant she could stay by Serkan’s side.

They would do anything for each other, and at one way or another, they did. Until their relationship deteriorated and they couldn’t keep going on, because they were losing themselves in an endless looping of traumas and pain. They were together but together they couldn’t do the healing, they were so exhausted they couldn’t heal each other nor themselves, it became unhealthy for them. But beware, it WAS NOT any of them’s fault, it qas just how they were living their lives. Their post-traumatic lives.

Sometimes there’s no right or wrong, there are just different point of views of a certain situation that’s so hard to grasp and so difficult to understand unless you’re personally living it. But trying to put yourself in their shoes also would do.

So please, yeter with the Eda AND SERKAN slander. Both were in their own right.

[justcourttee]

I love your sibling Jasonette so much!! If you don't mind, could you do Marinette's first meeting with the rest of the Batfam? Also, this is probably a stupid question but are the rest of the sibling Jasonette stories connected?

Not a stupid question at all! I wrote them so that if you read all of them, there are parallels so that they could be connected, but if people didn’t want to read all of them, they could also stand on their own :)

I also NEVER mind writing more sibling Jasonette ;) Hope you enjoy! @moonlitjiminie 

Family Game Night

“What if they don’t like me?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Is that even a real question that you’re asking me? I’m honestly offended right now that you would even think they had an option to not like you.”

He dramatically placed his hand over his heart as if her words had fatally wounded him earning a small giggle from the girl. Slinging his arm over her shoulder, she managed to breathe a small sigh of relief as they made their way up the long staircase.

Jason didn’t even bother knocking as he threw open the manor doors, effectively dragging her in with him.

“Master Jason, what a pleasure to see you attend family game night and with a guest in tow, how lovely.”

An older man stood in the foyer, his sly smile warming Marinette to the core instantly. Jason narrowed his eyes playfully at the man, a sly smile of his own tugging at his lips.

“Marinette, let me introduce you to the only sane person in this household. Mr. Alfred Pennyworth. He likes to pretend he’s just a humble butler, but we all know that he secretly runs the whole thing around here.”

Alfred bowed deeply to Marinette to which she could only curtsey in return.

“It’s a pleasure, sir. I am sorry for invading your family time. I was under the impression that my presence was a known factor tonight.” Her narrowed eyes shot to Jason who simply shrugged, his smirk as arrogant as ever.

“Nonsense, a friend of Master Jason is a friend to all. You are by far the most pleasant friend he has brought to this event.”

Marinette almost wanted to ask about the context of his remark, but something in her gut told her she really didn’t want to know.

“Please, follow me to the sitting room. The rest of the family has already arrived.”

They walked in a comfortable silence down the hall, Marinette nerves slightly frayed now knowing that nobody expected her appearance. Alfred pushed open two oak doors, revealing a brightly lit room filled with many laughing faces. When Jason said he had a lot of siblings, Marinette thought two or three. Nothing could have prepared her for this.

“Oh my god, Jason brought home a girl!”

Instantly all sounds in the room paused as many heads turned their attention to where Marinette stood in the doorway. Hesitantly, she raised her hand in greeting, a sheepish smile gracing her face.

“Everyone, this is Marinette, the legendary designer MDC, and my sister. She’s flown all the way from Paris to meet you losers for some reason so be nice.”

Marinette mumbled a quiet hello as a few smiles broke through the room welcoming her. Instantly, a blonde girl jumped up to drag her back to where she was previously sitting, ignoring Jason’s protests.

“You just have to play on my team tonight! Are you any good at Pictionary? I mean I’m not great, but I can say with utmost confidence that I can beat most of the people in this room.”

“That’s not true!” Marinette’s attention was split as one of the men started an argument with her as to who was the better pictionary-ist. She didn’t even notice when Jason had sat beside her, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“The rude blonde is Stephanie Brown. She’s Timmy boys girlfriend, who would be the dead zombie looking kid over there.”

Marinette’s gaze followed to where Jason pointed, a small giggle escaping at his accurate description. The poor boy looked like he hasn’t gotten a good night's sleep a single day in his life. 

“The rude boy arguing with Stephanie would be Dick. He practically rivals your optimism except his happy go lucky actually disgusts me.”

The man paused from his argument, a horrified expression on his face.

“I like to think my optimism is a blessing.”

That earned a collective groan from the room to which he simply crossed his arms into a pout.

“Anyways, continuing, the redhead is Barbara Gordon-Grayson who unfortunately has trapped herself in the position of Dick’s wife. A tragedy really for such a beautiful woman, I mean she could’ve had me and instead she chose him? The world just isn’t right.”

Another protest came from Dick’s direction as he turned his pout into Barbara’s outstretched arms as her attempt to not laugh failed miserably.

“The one staring you down while trying to pretend he’s not interested at the same time would be your future husband Damian.”

Marinette felt her entire face flush red as she reached back slapping Jason in the stomach as hard as he could.

“Todd, I do not appreciate harassing this young woman. You are beneath her in status and beauty therefore you should not be allowed to get off with this insult to her self so easily.”

Damian stood from his spot, careful not to make eye contact with Marinette as he sped past her toward the room’s only exit. She wanted to call out and ask him to stay, but the pink on his cheeks caused her to pause. He probably was just as embarrassed as her and just needed some time to breathe.

“Jason, that was mean! Look at how flustered you made him!”

Jason simply laughed as he reached over to ruffle her hair.

“Trust me, he never gets ‘flustered’ that was all you.”

For the second time that night, Marinette felt her face flush.

“He’s right you know!” Her eyes turned back to the blonde from earlier who stared her down with a playful expression in her eyes. “Demon spawn definitely has a crush on you.”

The rest of the family took turns picking at her, taking jabs until she was sure there wasn’t one part of her that wasn’t bloodshot red.

“Alright, alright, give the girl some space. We want her to return eventually!”

Marinette smiled gratefully toward the dark-haired man.

“After all, I need to get to know my future daughter-in-law.”

She instantly regretted her friendly gesture as the room exploded once more, smiles and laughter filling the room. Why exactly had she let Jason talk her into this?

“Okay, okay, really though guys. It’s game night! Time to pick team captains.”

Stephanie’s devilish smile sent shivers through Marinette’s spine. It was purely chaotic, reminding her of another blonde that she had left behind.

“I vote Marinette and Jason, the ultimate sibling showdown!” Dick puffed out his chest as his voice mimicked what sounded suspiciously like a wrestling ref that her father loved to watch.

“I’m down, how about you princess?”

Marinette bit her lip as her eyes glanced around the room at their waiting faces. Her eyes caught sight of one brooding face that she couldn’t seem to pass by. He also seemed to be waiting, his eyes nervously glancing from her position to the door as if he might bolt at any moment.

“It’s game on Todd.”

They shook their hands defiantly, both wearing dangerous smirks. Maybe she could salvage her pride tonight; not just hers’ but Damian’s as well. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Ladies first.”

Marinette and Jason stood on opposite sides of the room, both watching each other with an intense look that came from their competitive natures. She scanned the eager faces of his family thoughtfully. She had no idea what any of them were good at, but she wanted to maintain appearance for the psych of it.

“Damian.”

Everybody broke out into smirks as they shared knowing looks. She didn’t bother to pay them any mind as the pink-cheeked boy rose to stand with her.

“Wrong move princess, demon spawn hates game night more than he likes to win. My first choice? Stephanie.”

The girl pumped her fist in the air as she joined Jason on his side. Marinette leaned toward where Damian stood, hiding half her face behind her hand.

“Time to strategize, who is my best bet?”

Damian stared at her with a bewildered expression.

“C’mon beau garçon, I need your help if we’re gonna kick Jason’s ass.”

He nodded slowly as if that were a perfectly reasonable excuse to kick into gear.

“Grayson is the leading contender if you wish to win tonight.”

Marinette nodded as she motioned for Dick to join them as well. Jason raised an eyebrow at her as he called over Tim, challenging her to pick from the remaining two.

“Okay Damian, Barbara or Bruce.”

He didn't bother responding as he pointed at his father, leaving the redhead to Jason’s team.

It was five hours of intense games, Alfred keeping score as an unaffiliated third party,( after all, they had all agreed that he was the fairest way to keep the games moving.) They all sat in anticipation while he tallied the scores. She couldn’t seem to calm her nerves as she stared at Jason’s cocky smirk.

Marinette felt a warmth brush by her kneecap. Instantly her head snapped to where a hand rested before her gaze reached back up to his face, a light red dusting across her cheeks. Immediately his hand retracted.

“I’m sorry if that was inappropriate, your knee was just bouncing anxiously from the corner of my eye and it was a slight bother.”

Marinette muttered out a small sorry before they both broke their gaze, the blush evident on both of their cheeks.

“And with a final score of 5-4, the winning team is… Miss Marinette!”

Her whole team jumped from the couch in excitement. Without thinking, she threw her arms around Damian’s neck. Realization crossed her face as she quickly retracted her hug, her entire face as red as could be. God, she hadn’t been this much of a blushing mess since she was thirteen.

They all chatted idly for a few minutes before Jason finally intercepted, insisting he had to get her back to her apartment before it got too late. The whole family waved her goodbye, minus one red-faced teen who instead handed her a small piece of paper as discreetly as he could, ignoring the taunts from his family behind his back.

As they drove back to her apartment, Marinette couldn’t hold her excitement anymore.

“I don’t know why you were warning me so much, I think I’m in love with your family Jason.”

His familiar smirk sat on his face as he turned into the apartment’s lot.

“I told you they were going to love you, and what do you know? I didn’t even have to give Damian your number, you two worked it out on your own. I truly believe they are planning out your wedding right now.”

Marinette shook her head as she reached over the console to hug Jason tightly before stepping out of the car. She wanted to deny accusations of what happened tonight, but she knew it would just fuel his picking.

Besides, even she couldn’t deny that she was excited for the next family game night and if she saw a certain Wayne there, well, that really wouldn’t be so bad.

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava

[euphoricsunflowers]

the lovers’ christmas presents

a/n: these will be some of little drabbles for some moots of mine. i’m not super religious, but my mom is catholic so i do celebrate christmas to some extent. if you don’t, then just feel free to enjoy a random little gift for you, and if you do, merry christmas!! i’m so sorry if i wasn’t able to write one for you! i could only do so many 😔😔, but i promise i still love each and every one of my moots, anons, and followers!!

even if the year has been awful, kpop and writing have been really good escapes for my poor mental health. you have all been such a major factor in my mental well-being, so i wish you all happy holidays and a happy new year!

@sub-hoshi-enthusiast — kwon soon-young/hoshi

content: sub!hoshi, dom!fem!reader, title: mommy, he wears a skirt, pegging

“m-mommy,” he stutters, your fingers dig into his shoulders as you thrust into him, “aah!! mommy, please!”

“what is it, baby? you want mommy to go faster?” you say and he nods desperately, so just to tease him, you slow down, making each thrust as deep and intense as possible, “you know, you look really, really pretty right now.”

“mommy~!” he cries out in a whine, but it only makes you smirk.

“what? i just think the pretty skirt is suitable for my favorite pretty boy,” you hands move lower, gripping his waist as you pick up speed again, “now, as much as i love seeing your pretty face, how about i flip you over and spank you till your ass is red?”

he groans, but nods, letting you move him around however you wish, “there we are, now, i hope you don’t have much planned for the next week or so, i doubt you’ll be able to sit right for at least that long.”

@vanillaknj — kim namjoon/rm

content: sub!namjoon, dom!gn!reader, toys, boys in maid outfits :)), mentions of a safeword

“you know, maybe if you were good today we wouldn’t be here,” you muse as he trembles from his second orgasm, crying already, “what happened to my good boy, joonie?”

“i-i’m sorry, please don’t make me cum again,” he begs, but you shake your head.

“either use your safeword or i’m making you cum again and again and again until i’m satisfied,” you spit harshly, “now you’re going to get back to cleaning the house like the good maid you are, and if the vibrator turns on randomly while you’re cleaning, you better hope you can still do your chores. make sure to clean up any cum you get on the floor.”

and of course a few minutes later, just as he goes to start doing the dishes, you turn it on, and he’s visibly shaken, the close feeling already coming back quickly, and his legs give out as he falls to his knees, cumming with a loud groans, followed by some whimpers. it’s so fun to watch him be so miserable.

@nct99 — im changkyun/i.m

content: sub!changkyun, dom!gn!reader, kissing, biting, dirty talk

“come here, baby boy,” you mumble, and he plops down beside you, watching you desperately and hungrily, “is there something you want, kyun?”

“kiss me?” his hands hold onto your shoulders for stability as you lean in to kiss him, pushing him down against the bed and kissing feverishly. your hands hold him securely, and he feels safe and small under you, like nothing could hurt him. you kiss down his jaw, around his neck, on his collarbone, all over his chest until he finally seems to get restless, “please, i need more.”

“shhh, darling, let me take my time with you,” you whisper, biting down against his neck. he hisses in pain but still tilts his head so you have better access to his neck, looking up towards the ceiling as you move lower and lower, “look at me, dear,” he looks down at you, “do you want this?”

“yes, yes, please, make me yours, i want to be all yours,”

you smile, pressing a kiss to the inside of his thigh and his body shivers in your hold, “you already are, baby, you’ve always been mine.”

@bigkpopstan — kevin moon

content: sub!kevin, dom!reader, neck kisses, biting, basically the build up to car sex

“hey, sweetie, let me take care of you,” you whisper in his ear, pressing kisses to his neck and playing with his hair, trying to relax him slightly, “relax, baby, i got you.”

“o-okay,” despite the limited space of the backseat of the car and the many, many times your head has bonked against the roof of the car, you had managed to both get enough out of your clothes to take care of his problem. that doesn’t mean that you’ll satisfy him right away, though, obviously not.

your hands grip his waist tightly as you make your first bite against his skin. you try to not be too harsh, yet he still whines at the pain, “shh, it’s okay, darling, i’m not gonna hurt you too much. just wanna make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

“i-i am yours,” he mutters breathlessly.

you chuckle, “i know, but i gotta make sure they do too.”

@mellowriting — kim hongjoong

content: sub!hongjoong, dom!gn!reader, handjob, mentions of exhibitionism

“look at you, already so ruined, we’ve only just begun, joong,” you smile, but there’s a cruelness to your words, and he almost wants to glare at you for being so mean, but he decides against that.

“a-ah! oh my—” he moans, getting closer and closer. he looks so ethereal when he’s all quiet and pleasure-filled, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“what if someone walked in here, joong? say… seonghwa? or yunho? would you let one of your friends watch their strong leader so pathetically fall to pieces with a few touches?” he whimpers at your words, shaking his head ‘no’, “are you sure? i thought you like proving yourself to them, showing off just how good you are for me, but alright, i suppose i’ll keep you all for myself.”

@lovingonrepeat — nakamoto yuta

content: sub!yuta, dom!gn!reader, hair pulling, begging, title: miss (i wanna say it’s fem because of this but think of this what you will)

your fingers card through yuta’s hair, keeping him alert for any sudden motion or tug from you. he sits on edge (not in the way you think) for minutes that feel like hours. you watch your show as you play with his hair, accidentally pulling slightly sometimes but apologizing immediately.

he knows you’re teasing him, putting him through this just to mess with him, and you’ve got him: he’s desperate.

“please pull harder,” he mumbles, and even though you hear him perfectly, you still make him repeat himself, “pull harder, please, miss.”

“you know that’s not good enough, try harder,” you smirk at him.

“please! please, i want you to hurt me, show me how much i’m yours, make me scream out your name—” he’s cut off when he cries out in pain, your hand tugging hard against his scalp.

“yeah, that’s more like it.”

@foenixs — lee minhyuk

content: sub!minhyuk, dom!gn!reader, mirrors, degradation, calling him puppy but it’s not really pet play, title: master

“p-please,” he murmurs, reaching out to hold onto you for some kind of stability. his eyes intently watch the mirror, especially watching the way your hand works him and brings him to heaven.

“please what, stupid puppy? finish your sentences,” you kiss his temple, then moving to kiss his neck and shoulder as his grip on your arm tightens, “i can’t give you what you want unless you tell me what that is.”

“i-i need it,” he gulps, “i need to cum,” shutting his eyes tightly as the pressure builds, but you grip his jaw, holding tightly as your words scare and excite him.

“you’re going to watch yourself cum, got it? i want you to keep your eyes on your pretty expressions as you fall apart just for me, give up all control to your master, got it?” he nods when you finish speaking, but he’s so close he can barely register what you actually said, “then cum.”

@feelslikelove — johnny suh

content: fluff, i’m sorry i just wanted to write something sweet to finish this off and this is really cute i’m so 🥺🥺

“baby,” he mumbles tiredly, his cheek pressed against your shoulder, “don’t get up, baby, stay with me.”

you laugh at his antics, and you can faintly see his smile as he feels you mold yourself more against him. it’s like your bodies were made for each other, “i need to go, darling.”

“but here’s the thing,” he reaches his hand up to your face just to touch your nose, making you giggle even more, “you really don’t.”

“stay with me,” he sings softly, to some melody you're ninety percent sure he made up on the spot, “let’s just stay here, in bed, forever.”

“we can’t do that, johnny,” you sigh, but you can feel yourself giving in, “i have to go to work.”

he shakes his head, “says who?”

[petri808]

O5+Itafushi sick/injured/comfort for Anon 😊 totally canon divergent since we still don’t know a lot about their backgrounds and the series is still on going 🙃 Hurt/Comfort, angst w/happy ending. *Does container manga spoiler aspects if you’re not up to date on it.

It couldn’t be helped... logically, Megumi knew this, but what his brain understood didn’t mean his heart could accept. Yuuji was fated from the beginning to die and he knew— Knew that all the man wanted was to die without regret, and saving their world... well how much more honor could one achieve by fulfilling his grandfather’s dying wish? He should be happy for his friend, content in the knowledge that Yuuji gave them a chance to rebuild a better world without the fear of Ryomen Sukuna ever destroying it. Should be... but he wasn’t.

How many times had Megumi convinced himself they weren’t heroe’s, they were just sorcerers. Spiritual police in a sense, there to protect without a desire for acknowledgement. And that their deaths were both inevitable and not immune to regret. All they could do was their best not to garner too much of it and become the very curses they swore to fight. It was why most jujutsu sorcerers learned from an early age not to care about humanity, or at least lie to themselves that it was a possibility. Such bullshit, really.

So, as he stood there staring down at what remained of his best friend’s body, Megumi couldn’t help the regret bubbling up in his very soul. This was literally and figuratively his fault. Yuuji’s, or rather Sukuna’s exorcism was a combined effort in which he’d participated in. That’s not something you can simply set aside. Yes! Megumi was glad that Sukuna was gone, but so was Yuuji! He didn’t care if his friend had been born into, or chosen to, or somehow been trapped in this fate. It wasn’t fair at all. None of this was fair to any of them, just as his own birth had been an unfortunate creation for revenge.

“Fuck!” Megumi gritted out a barely audible utterance as his nails dug into the clenched fists at his sides, and tears trickled down his face. This wasn’t fair at all!

He shouldn’t even be there. If Gojou sensei knew he’d snuck into the morgue he’d be in trouble. But he didn’t care! They didn’t even let him say goodbye to his friend before carting him off to Dr. Shoko. It was for his own good— pfft, fucking uncaring bastards! Yuuji was the first real person he’d ever connected with who gave him back a sense of the humanity he’d lost along the way. The man made him feel, and now. “Fuck...” Megumi knew he was screwed. His heart had crossed the line. Images of a smiling Yuuji play like a movie behind his closed eyes, bringing a pained smile curling on Megumi’s lips. He’d avoided admitting it to himself, but it was true. He’d fallen for Yuuji Itadori.

It had been an unspoken promise Megumi made to Yuuji, one he’d made deep within his heart the moment it had chosen to cross the line. He’d find a way to sever Sukuna from Yuuji and save his love from the ultimate sacrifice. This promise had never been proclaimed from his own lips, but there was no running from the covenant he’d created in his soul. As Sukuna once explained, certain pacts in their works simply could not be broken.

His knees weakened, crumpling Megumi to the floor in a position of summary execution. All of the emotional walls he’d learned to control, gave way in a flood, sending shadowed curse energy to blanket the room. He didn’t even try to stem the flow of power surging out from his pain. It was entirely selfish to lash out with his regret and anger, but Megumi couldn’t stop... didn’t want to let go. “It’s not fair!” He raged into the still darkness. “I should have saved you! If I was stronger, I could have saved you! But I’m too weak... even now, I can’t...” he hung his head head and closed his eyes, “I can’t even let you die properly because you deserve to live Yuuji...” Because I still need you... Damn the consequences, he’ll take whatever comes his way! “Yuuji!!!”

.....Megumi wasn’t exactly sure what happened, how he ended up passed out on his side, or even how long he was laying there. But something gentle brushed against his face, sweeping his hair aside, and caressing it to stir him awake. His body was groggy from the power drain, eyes barely able to focus in the amber emergency lighting. Whatever it was said nothing, just continued soothing him and coaxing with light prodding to wake up. It felt so nice... Wait! Fuck! Was he caught?! Was it Gojou, Dr. Shoko, someone else?!

His eyes flash open wide as he scrambled to sit up, ready to explain himself, but— “Sukuna?!” Megumi screamed in shock.

“What?!” The naked man stumbled back, looking around in a panic. “Where?! He’s supposed to be dead!”

Megumi adjusted his eyes better, because the form in front of him looked like Yuuji, but with all of the same markings as Sukuna, including the second set of open eyes. Although the voice was different... not exactly Yuuji’s, not Sukuna’s, maybe a mix of both. “Who are you?” He asked, noting that the curse energy flowing from this thing was akin to Sukuna in power and this could be a trick from the God of Curses. Is this what his regret had wrought?!

“It’s me,” the figure stepped forward in confusion, a hand over his chest. “Yuuji. Megumi how could you not know it’s me?”

“Because you look like and feel like Sukuna.”

Yuuji looked down at his body and could see the markings too. But that’s when he also noticed something else in the room. His dead body lying on the operating table. His eyes widen as they whip back to Megumi. “Am I?!” His shaky voice cracked.

It was becoming clear. Megumi nodded. “My regret brought you back as a...”

“Curse...” Yuuji breathed out. He was stunned, and yet somehow not surprised. “Wow... but I don’t look like a normal curse.” He could think and feel, “I’m like Mt. Fuji head?”

“I don’t understand it either. I’m so sorry Yuuji— I just couldn’t let you go.” The tears formed again in Megumi’s eyes. “I’d sworn to myself I’d save you, but I failed miserably and for that... n-now you’re a curse.”

“I should be mad at you.” Yuuji knelt down in front of his friend, smiling. “But I’m not. I know all too well how hard it is to let go of people we care about.”

Megumi shook his head. “You don’t understand. I’m being selfish and that’s wrong! I just... I-I just... I love you too much to let you go.”

“You... love me? Like a friend, friend love or...”

Megumi turned away and if it wasn’t so dark his blushing cheeks would be glaringly obvious. “No, the other kind.”

“Brotherly love?”

For a second there, Megumi had to question his own sanity again for failing in love with an idiot. He ran his hand down his face in a huff. “The I wanna kiss you kind! I know you said you like women with big butts and all, but yeah,” he mumbled, “that’s how I feel about you idiot.” His face was truly on fire by this point, only made more difficult by the fact the man he loved was hanging out for all to see.

“Oh!” Yuuji chuckled and sandwiched Megumi’s face between the palms of his hands. “I’m just messing with you. I knew that for a while now.”

“Wait how?!” But dang if seeing Yuuji’s smile again didn’t just melt him. “I kept it hidden.”

“You did, but Sukuna sensed it in you when your domains overlapped, and he showed me.”

Yuuji leaned forward and brought their lips together in an awkward kiss. It was brief, but for Megumi, it solidified how he felt. That yes, he really did love this man and finally! He got to kiss him!

“There was a time I thought Sukuna had a crush on you actually,” Yuuji chuckled. “But then of course, it turned out he just wanted to use you.”

“So... you’re okay with me liking you?” As he spoke, Megumi pulled his coat off and handed it to Yuuji to cover up.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yuuji smiled and put on the coat. “But what do we do now? Technically I’m not alive, I’m a walking, talking curse.”

“Fuck,” Megumi sighed, his shoulders slumping, “I didn’t exactly think this through, just lost control.”

Yuuji placed a hand on his shoulder, “hey, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Megumi couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled Yuuji into a tight bear hug as renewed tears pooled in his eyes. “I don’t care what you are, I’m just happy to have you back.”

Yuuji returned the hug. “Me too.”

Suddenly, clapping echoed through the darkened room seconds before the light switch was flipped on, causing Megumi to flinch. Shit! They were caught so quickly!

“I had a feeling this would happen.”

It was Gojou’s voice. Aww crap!

Megumi moved Yuuji and placed himself between the two men. “Leave him alone!”

“Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head Megumi Chan, I’m not gonna exorcise him. I followed you here, so if I’d wanted to stop you, I would have done so sooner.”

“You’re messing with me.” Megumi narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “It’s our job to dispatch curses. Why would you make an exception.”

“Yes, under the old ways, but as you know, those ways were destroyed by us. As long as a curse is not a problem, I don’t care if they exist.” Gojou cocked his head in an evil grin. “Yuuji is now for you, as what Rika is for Okkotsu. I didn’t exorcise Rika, did I?”

“No...”

“Exactly!” He clapped his hands together. “Having powerful special grades on our side is a benefit in my eyes,” Gojou moved his mask to reveal his own, “and these eyes know everything,” he winks before affixing the mask. “Besides, who am I to get in the way of love,” he shrugged.

Megumi rolled his eyes at that last jab, but Yuuji let out a sigh of relief. “Gojou sensei, do you know why I’m like this?” He motioned to his body. “Shouldn’t I be more like Rika? But I can think for myself and talk, and I feel... well, normal.”

“That’s a good question!” Gojou cackled and pointed at Yuuji. “I have no idea!”

“Ugh!” Megumi slaps his forehead. This man never changed.

“But,” Gojou grew serious in an instant, “I can guess there are three factors involved.” He held up one finger, “Number one! You, Yuuji are no ordinary human but created by a curse at birth.” Raising a second finger, “Number two! You and Sukuna were bonded at the instance of death, so you’ve fused with him.” Adding a third finger, “and lastly, number three! When one special grade sorcerer curses another former special grade sorcerer, that amount of curse energy wasn’t going to create a lower lever spirit. So, voila! You were made Yuuji!”

“But is it like I still have control of Sukuna or something?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Do you still sense him?”

Yuuji paused in thought before shaking his head no.

“It’s likely Sukuna’s soul was fully exorcised, and since Megumi was only thinking of you, it was only you that was brought back. This is just the form your cursed energy has taken. We’ll need to test what powers you’ve retained, but from what I’m sensing, they are on par with Sukuna’s residual energy.”

It’s Megumi who speaks up next. “So, is Yuuji allowed back at school?”

“I’ll allow it, provided your classmates don’t mind. Remember, while you can see him, he’s no longer alive, so normal humans won’t see him anymore. He is just a cursed spirit.”

Megumi and Yuuji looked at each other, then back to their teacher with Yuuji taking hold of Megumi’s hand. “I think they’d get mad if we didn’t return,” Yuuji smiled.

Gojou tipped two fingers as he turned to leave, “then I shall see you in class tomorrow. Try to keep the noise down in your room.” He teased with a cackle.

Megumi flushed red. “He’s so irritating.”

“Yeah, but you gotta admit Gojou sensei’s one of the cool ones.”

“Yeah,” Megumi sighed, but smiled. “Guess we should head back to school too.”

Yuuji squeezed his new boyfriend’s hand and nodded. “I can’t wait to see everyone’s faces when I walk in!”

“Just, no practical jokes like phasing through walls to scare them. We don’t need someone actually trying to exorcise you.”

“Oh, right! I’ll behave.” Without warning, Yuuji then swept Megumi into a bridal carry. “Let’s test my powers! I bet I’m faster than Gojou sensei now!”

“Wait! What are you doing?!”

Yuuji grinned down at Megumi with ruby red eyes glowing. “Trust me.” Cause I’ll kill anyone who dares to hurt you now...

[tigerdrop]

hey i just wanna say the long posts genuinely make my day. also can you talk more about gordon freeman character because the way you write him makes me quake in my gay little boots

i would love to talk about gordon freeman. thank u for the opportunity

the first thing i need to communicate about gordon is that this dude sucks. and i say this in the fondest way possible. he is a bitch from the moment he drops into the world until the moment he goes out. if you dont believe me, give it another watch! gordons mouthy and rude for no real reason, at least so far as “being a regular dude on his way into work” goes, and this dude goes around calling his coworkers names with zero provocation. (of course, we all know that the reason is because its a funny guy improv stream that borrows a bit from freemans mind, but im talkin from a character sense.)

but my argument isnt just that gordon freeman sucks. its that he sucks in a very specific way that i find insanely endearing. i love this dude. i love to hate him. hes awful in a very mundane sense - weve all known a guy like this, at least if youve spent too much time online - and its cathartic to watch him suffer because of it.

gordons a smart guy. as written, hes gotta be - hes a recent MIT grad, on his way to work at a top-secret research facility to do weird shit with crystals and theoretical physics. but the thing about smart guys is that theyre often......selectively intelligent. we can see this in the way that he has a hard time navigating his surroundings, and needs the science crew to guide him through it and keep him alive.

this is one of those things that is a natural consequence of somebody going through the game for the first time, but that i am interpreting as “gordon is kind of stupid sometimes”. its uncharitable but its not like he doesnt deserve it. he likes to boss around the crew as if he knows what hes doing, when he often very much does not, and is fond of demeaning their intelligence. hes real bad about this with tommy in particular, treating him like hes a kid whos playing at being a scientist when tommy is actually a decade older than him. all i am saying is that gordon ought to stay humble. hes awful cocky when he perceives himself as better than others.

which, i think, tracks with how cocky he gets when he gives up on the whole “well-meaning citizen” thing and just unloads bullets into people. he puts up a front of being a Nice Guy, you know, just some dude caught in a bad situation who doesnt like seeing his companions obliterate every NPC they come across, but that doesnt stop him from cackling like a fucking madman and mowing down aliens (and soldiers) every once in awhile. when he stops seeing himself as helpless and starts seeing himself as the one in control, the gloves come off. he gets mean. and i think thats very sexy of him

this, among other things, is why i am insistent that gordon freeman is a control freak. he desperately wants to be in control of the situation at all times, shepherding around the science crew primarily by bitching at them, but its of limited success. its futile. sisyphean. tommy, coomer, bubby, and benrey exist almost to torment him with exactly the thing that would make him suffer the most: a gaggle of people running around causing problems for him, but he cant go anywhere without them b/c hes reliant on them to make it out alive.

its perpetual suffering, and its cathartic to watch. and funny, too. and if youre a little weirdo like me, its very, very enjoyable. how twisted up he gets when nobodys listening to him! how sweaty and frazzled he must look. its cute, and it also makes me want to reach through the screen and shake him and tell him to just be a little nicer. he wants control but he doesnt know how to attain it, he doesnt know how to play nice like a real leader. i think its a neat contrast to gordon freeman as we know him in HL2, where he literally is the leader of the resistance and has to live up to it. this is gordon freeman but if he was moe through helplessness.

“helpless” is, i think, a great way to describe him. a core bit of imagery in half life is this sense of railroadedness and helplessness, with gordon freeman being put into play like a chess piece and having no choice but to move forward. and this iteration of gordon leans into that by being totally dependent on the science crew in order to make progress and Not Die. and hes also subject to the whims of benrey, local eldritch weirdo who has basically made it his life mission to fuck with gordon.

gordons anxieties dont help with that. if he wasnt so fun to stress out and fuck with, the science crew probably wouldnt do it so much! too bad for him that they like fucking with him so much that he was driven into a panic attack (multiple times, even, depending on your interpretation). hes got that real neurotic mindset. always worrying about shit that could go wrong, and attempting to exert control over his surroundings in an effort to control the anxiety.

IMO the real way to nail the Neurotic Gordon Freeman Experience is to combine the ever-present anxiety with his pervasive sense of self-loathing. he openly states that he has no friends and nobody seems to like him, and to that, i really gotta say, i wonder why. he doesnt really seem to factor in that hes kind of a bitch, and has way too high an estimation of his own intelligence relative to everybody elses. its really one of the worst ways to be: aware that people dont like you, but unaware of exactly why. if he was like, 10% nicer, he probably wouldnt have had half as many issues getting through black mesa, but also, its funny to see him squawking his way through the game. so, you know.

its stuff like that that makes me headcanon him as a dude with low self-esteem in general. convinced that hes not likable, not attractive, out of his element......impostor syndrome, except that theres some truth to it. this is a guy who truly does not realize how good he has it: he really is just an average shitty dude, and yet, somehow, benrey took a shine to him. some poor motherfucker out there actually likes him and wants to suck his dick. thats dedication

also, i keep bringing up “repression” when i talk about gordon. and hopefully, what ive been talking about helps explain why. he has a strong desire to be a regular dude, not just murdering his way through black mesa, but if hes pushed hard enough he leans into it. gets bossy. picks up a cigar off a dead soldier and takes a long drag, before smacking forzen around with a pistol and ordering him around. gordon freeman is a regular, kind of anxious guy who likes competitive swimming and streaming on justin.tv and making anime references, and he is also a guy who takes a filthy pleasure in making a trained soldier his bitch. and i didnt make up any of this shit - this is purestrain canon, baby. this is a guy with problems

to me, this screams the kind of guy who represses a lot of shit b/c he doesnt feel like its morally decent. you run into this guy a lot online: the wokeboy, the online leftist, the guy who spends too much time on social media websites. (like reddit. i think he would actively use reddit and he would never get any appreciable amount of karma but he never stops posting. its sisyphean! cathartic.) from the way he talks about “bootboys”, i think it tracks. he knows about imperialism, he knows about feminism, but at the end of the day hes your average american white dude who struggles with internalizing it.

a lot of those dudes struggle with sex and gender issues. (dont we all.) when youre trying to be a Good Person(tm), you spend a lot of time thinking about your own relationship to sex and kink and all that shit. and i maintain that a too-online dude who buries a lot of his control freak tendencies would also try to bury a lot of weird sexual shit in an attempt to seem Normal and Well-Adjusted and not like a little freak. i justify this by the sheer number of times gordon blurts out weird sex shit as a joke. there are only two outcomes to making that many piss jokes: either youre secretly a piss guy, or you lathe-of-heaven yourself into becoming one. i will stand by this

ive talked a lot about why this dude sucks. now, let me talk to you about what makes gordon so much fun to write. first things first: hes funny! a subjective evaluation, yeah, but both in- and out-of-character, hes aiming to be funny. and being the straight man to everybody else plays into that whole “helplessness” thing.

secondly: underneath it all, there is a good dude under there. gordon worries when his companions get hurt, he tries to clean them off and patch them up, and hes got his lil leftist heart in the right place. you could even read a lot of his bossy, bitchy demeanor as him wanting to make sure everyone gets out okay and doesnt hurt themselves. when it comes to animals and anti-imperialist sentiment, gordons a pretty good guy.

hes the kind of guy who would probably see a dog on the street and get excited and play with it, but would get really prickly about the correct way to put dishes in the dishwasher. control freak tendencies.

finally, subjecting such a miserable, tormented guy to even more psychological anguish is really, really fun. you feel a little bad for him, but he kind of deserves it. so many problems he goes through are purely of his own making, and if gordon would just relax and quit trying to hard to maintain control - of himself, of the people around him - and own up to having Problems and Issues, he would be a happier guy. but thats why its fun to bend him until he breaks. being a little control freak myself, putting gordon freeman thru psychosexual torment is cathartic.

when it comes to writing his thought processes, the fact that he is canonically some kind of psychotic (yes, i am boldly claiming this. suck me) and i am also canonically some kind of psychotic makes it easier to write what i think his thought processes are. i just give him my brain issues of “getting lost in thought” and “overthinking fucking everything”. a touch of paranoia helps. even if i dont explicitly label him as schizophrenic please know that i am writing him as a paranoid little nutcase at all times because, uh, you write what you know.

paranoid. anxious. of the mindset that everyones out to get him (which isnt helpful when everyone is out to get him). repressed and deeply Not Normal but trying so very fucking hard to be normal and well-adjusted. a control freak with sadistic tendencies who also really, really likes getting bullied by his best frenemy. a hapless little nerd who sounds really cute when his voice starts to break from nerves. and, most importantly, a dumb jock. do not ever forget this.

thats gordon freeman, babey. hope that helps