#I.. . . . . . love him more than my own life jfc

[ooffmlsorry]

OP Men Dating a "Girly Girl"

A/N: sorry this took so long and I haven't posted anything original in a minute my life is mess and I'm so very tired jfc...I know this isn't more than my usual group but I was just gonna stop at Luffy and then decided to add Ace and Sabo as a thank you because writing these and putting them on Tumblr has been really good for me, so thank you for always being here to indulge me 🥲 ❤️

Sanji, Zoro, Law, Luffy, Ace, Sabo

Sanji

Let's be honest, girly-girls drive Sanji craaaazzzzyy (not that all women don't, but he's definitely more partial to the feminine ones) Your make-up, pretty skirts and dresses, jewelry, and manicure, he can't help fawn over you constantly 😍Although you do it because you enjoy it, it's nice that your efforts are so appreciated!!

He spoils you soooo baaaddd!! He literally can't help himself when he sees something pretty or cute that reminds him of you, he has to get it for you. You're drowning in squishmallows at this point.

A river of blood shoots from him every time you show off a new outfit. You're going to kill him and he'll thank you for it.

Dressing up in nice outfits together, especially on date night, is a shared activity that you love to do together. Y'all are living your best happily ever after lives.

Ya'll definitely have scheduled self-care nights. You put on some slow music, open a bottle of wine, draw a bubble bath, all that.

He's utterly useless when it comes to helping you pick your outfits or makeup if you're stuck because he loves you in everything, it's too hard for him to pick. You're his perfect, beautiful Y/N-swaaaaan 😍💖💖✨

He does love to see you in pink or red though so he might default to those colors

Don't try to test your makeup on him lol, you're going to re-awaken the gender identity crisis...I mean Kamabakka trauma

Listen...I'm not saying Sanji has a mommy kink...I'm not even at Whole Cake Island so idk wtf is going on there. All I'm saying is if you give this man a bath, wrap him in a towel to dry him off, and rub him down with luxurious lotions and oils, you might awaken something...that's all...👀

ZORO

He has no clue wtf you're doing. If it weren't for the fact that there's no proof that witches exist in this world, he'd think you are one

He looks at your vanity full of serums, creams, scrubs, lotions, etc, not to mention the makeup and he's like "??????" Just completely baffled

But what do you expect? This man would use that five-in-one Irish Spring soap if he could.

Just because he doesn't understand it doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate and admire the fact that you have extensive knowledge in something he can't even comprehend

He knows you like nice shiny things, and again, while he doesn't get it, he does think it's really, really cute when you go starry-eyed over a necklace or an outfit in a store.

In the same vein, he knows how much you love cute things and animals. He has absolutely found a cute animal in the jungle, picked it up, and brought it to you just to show you because he knew you'd love it.

Sometimes in his own gruff way he'll agree with you that it's pretty cute. Thank you for helping this manly man admit things are cute and that's okay.

Other times, he's the one making sure you don't get distracted because it's so cute

Unfortunately and fortunately, you're pretty to him no matter what you do to yourself so it's all kind of a moot point to him.

You can try to ask him about which 'x' to wear, sometimes it's helpful because he'll throw out a really practical answer and then other times he's like "How 'bout you just go naked" 😏.

He'll wear a face mask with you like...twice a year. And he's going to bitch and moan about it but he does it because he loves you. The entire process is like trying to give a cat a bath "WHY IS IT SO COLD? THIS STAYS ON MY FACE FOR HOW LONG???"

Exfoliate this man at your own risk...I'm dead serious that water is going to be brown

LAW

I need you to know right now this man will let you paint his nails!!! I mean, not like gel or acrylics or anything, but he'll let you paint them any color as long as it's a dark shade of that color. You once designed Bepo on his middle fingers. He did in fact flip people off a lot more often when he had them.

Let's you wear a pastel boiler suit because you he loves you and wants to see you happy

Much like Zoro, he's got no clue what you're doing. He'll stand back and watch you while making the exact same face as the gif above.

He thinks he's being stealthy peaking around a corner to watch your morning or night routine, but you quickly catch on. Please please pleeaaassee ask him if he has any questions because he does. He's just really curious why you're doing what you're doing and what it does. It's basically skin medicine and he's really fascinated.

Knowing that you like shiny things makes his life admittedly a little easier, it's not that he doesn't think of what to gift you, he puts A LOT of thought into what he gives you, but knowing that earrings, necklaces, and bracelets always make you happy is great just in case of analysis paralysis or he forgets. Sorry.

Also you wearing the jewelry he gets you does something to him, especially a necklace he can pull on a little, mmhhm you're making this man struggle with impure thoughts.

You both love cute things, it's something y'all connect on. It's really good that you help him access that very neglected inner child of his and encourage him to coo and fawn over adorable animals with zero reservation.

He'll do skincare with you too when he's not super busy. He can admit it's kind of nice to sit in bed with a book, glass of wine, and a face mask and just bask for a minute

He acts like he hates when you rub serums across his face and use a derma roller on him but he loves it

Law doesn't really pay attention to your clothes, but when you really go all out he breaks out in a sweat and he can't keep his eyes off you.

LUFFY

I'm not saying he thinks it's stupid, it just...why have an hours long care routine when you could be going on adventure with him??? 😭😭😭

He will help you pick out your makeup but don't expect it to look good. You're gonna end up with neon orange eyeshadow and green lipstick. Like literally every "My Boyfriend Does My Makeup" youtube video.

Plays around with your stuff but that's because he has no idea what all these strange contraptions are. The moment you try to explain his eyes glaze over and next thing you know he's whisking you away to go do something more fun.

He likes the shiny bright stuff (highlighter), makeup probably is the only part he even remotely engages in because it's

Explain how contour works to this man and watch him lose his fucking mind, he thinks you're a shape shifter now (honestly this applies to all of them except Law and maybe Sanji)

He never notices what you wear, Nami is gonna have smack him on the back of the head to get him to realize you put on something fancy

Luffy points out everything, it just so happens that things he points out sometime happen to be cute animals

Hides in all the stuffed animals and squishmallows in your room to surprise attack hug you

*throws mud at you* "Is this the kind of mud you like, Y/N??" He really means well though.

You know those hair masks with all natural ingredients like honey and banana? Yeah, he's gonna start sucking on your hair like spaghetti...I'm so sorry.

He'll bathe with you but that's because he wants to be close to you, it's definitely not about being pampered or relaxing.

Try to put a face mask on him or something else and it'll just become a game of tag around the Sunny. You can't catch him and he's having a great time outrunning and outwitting you.

He knows this is all important to you so even though he doesn't get it he'd never make fun of you for it and the moment someone calls you "extra," he's kicking their ass.

ACE

Maybe all the glam is a little silly to him but that just makes you extra cute!

He will also absolutely let you paint his nails. Hell, he'll let you do a full beat on him just for fun and he'll wear it for the whole day because he's so unserious lol

...As long as he gets to do your makeup after...Much like Luffy you're gonna be covered in neon colors that don't even remotely match, but you guys have a great time lol

Admittedly likes to be pampered by you when he gets back from a long mission.

Please take a bubble bath with this man, it's not like the water is ever going to get cold!

I'm pretty sure you'd legitimately lead to Ace taking better care of himself. Got this man out here talking about his cuticles and shit lol

Honestly, it's really good for him because self care leads to self love and Ace needs a lot of help with that.

He tells Pops about all the stuff you do 1.) because he loves you and 2.) he hopes some of it will help Whitebeard heal a little, god bless him 😢

All of your hardwork doesn't go unnoticed, he legitimately gets kind of misty eyed when you really dress up because he's so so so lucky. He swears he doesn't deserve you.

He always brings back some kind of gift even whether it's a cute plushie or something exotic to wear from all of his long travels

I need to stress how much this means to him, everyone of these things is like a little proposal because he already knows you're it. Every little gift is leading up to a ring from this man.

He's also just genuinely impressed by the skill it takes to do your makeup so well, especially after he tries doing it on you

Much like his little brother unfortunately, he does play with all the little contraptions in your vanity, especially in the beginning because have you seen an eyelash curler? He's so confused lol

SABO

Sabo and Ace truly are his brothers because he really don't get all the effort lol

Admittedly, a lot of that is because he thinks you're so hot already what's the point???

Once he gets this is just how you are he's less confused, he's probably the most normal out everyone. He lets you do your thing, although he's really curious how you managed to always look amazing while being in the fucking revolutionary army!!?? Where are you getting the time???

If someone were to intrude on y'all on a free afternoon you're both in fluffy robes with face masks on and Sabo loves to pretend to act like a bitch when he's in selfcare mode with you lol

"Are you seriously bothering us right now, ugh! I can't even right now!!" And then you both break out in laughter

He really thinks you should teach others how to contour and do makeup because it has great applications for disguises and infiltration.

And brags about your skills to everyone

Wonders how many of your makeup supplies could actively be used as a weapon *eye roll* jfc Sabo

There's a part of you that secretly worries all your boujieness will remind him of his blood relatives, but he assures you that it doesn't because you have a good heart and he never doubts that

Besides, being a little extra with him helps him associate those things he used to associate with his blood relatives with you instead so it's even better

He spoils you so bad, but with a Sabo-flair, ie. stealing from shitty people and bringing it back to you because you're oh so more deserving of nice things let's be honest

He gets jealous of the cute animals that you squeal over hehehe, please hug him when he starts pouting

He'll always wear a little pink just for you ❤️

[toto-the-cactus]

Primarchs + Daughters (2)

Finally finished the damn part two. Been kinda busy here and there with my new job but lo and behold, the one yall asked for. Soon enough, yall find out why it took me a while writing this one for the two main guys I had to add here.

Part 1 - Part 2

Konrad Curze

A’right, I’ll open this one with the fact we all know that this man shouldn’t even be legally allowed to have children. I’m gonna be real for a hot second and admit that I stared at the screen for HOURS not knowing what to write because any poor little girl that is born from this guy will have the dubious privilege of being the most sheltered and hidden secret the Primarch ever kept close. With all those visions of death and inevitable doom mixed with the sudden power rush that fatherhood gave him, it left in its wake a perfect storm for this lunatic to develop a paranoid and obsessive need (NEED) to keep his daughter safe; something hard to achieve when he already knows the essence of his Legion. His fatalistic nature regarding his own future would suddenly clash violently with the Primarch’s new found protective stance concerning his child. It's almost sad to consider that this poor man GENUINELY wished to avoid becoming the monster his visions showed, but knowing that he’ll be balancing in the thin line of one day hurting his precious girl (or worse than that) it'll put him in the hard decision of having to let go of her eventually. He is no Perturabo, for that matter. In the rare and far away moments of lucidity, I can see Konrad choosing to protect the innocence and life of his child by trusting in the last person ANYONE might expect the Night Hunter would seek help: Vulkan. Honestly this is just plain sad, man.

Sanguinius

This is it! The golden boy, yall! We all know the kind of person Sanguinius is, but add a precious little daughter in the equation and all you get is the perfect example of textbook girl dad. No matter how busy this man is, somehow he’ll squish some playtime with his baby and enjoy every bit of it. Seriously, this guy acting like a dedicated father is worth being in a stockphoto image. His baby girl asks him to play tea party? Some astartes will find their Primarch hunched over, awkwardly holding a comically small cup between his thumb and index while his precious princess pretends to pour more tea for herself. The daughter of Sanguinius doesn't go a single day without knowing that her papa loves her a lot and when the man isn’t around, the Blood Angels Legion are close to keep her company to the point that even she calls them ‘big brothers’. No one is safe when she wants to play dress-up. The single problem I see with Sanguinius when raising his little girl is that he sins of being completely oblivious to the more mortal side of his daughter’s needs. He easily gets so wrapped up in his role of The Perfect Angel that he doesn’t realize his tiny princess has boundaries that are being constantly crossed, but since she feels the need to prove that she can be like her father, endures all those problems and refuses to seek help about anything. It becomes a kind of toxic mix considering how much Sanguinius is loved and adored by others, to the point that his daughter becomes like a coveted gem too by relation, making her need to prove her own ‘perfection’ an unconscious action the older she grows. I’m not even gonna touch with a ten feet pole the “fun fact” called the Red Thirst on this one because, let's be fair, that would require for me to write more than 3 pages with ONLY Sanguinius and his daughter in the spotlight and that’s only assuming his baby girl didn’t inherit it. I specialized in visual arts and marketing, not psychology jfc.

Ferrus Manus

It took me a while but after some investigating and more reading I can safely put this man in between the Papa-tier and ‘tough love’ guys. His practical mentality and belief of the strongest are (oddly enough) healthily separated from his parenting skills. This is one of the few Primarch that can see their daughter as an individual of their own and makes sure to be as present as possible in her life but the loyalty of this man to the Emperor is his own flaw. Not in the case that he’ll choose the Imperium before his little girl, but because it’ll put him in the dreading and guilty notion that he’ll always prioritize his daughter despite his oath to serve for the Great Crusade. Most of his brothers (except maybe Jaghatai and Konrad) just assume or don’t even think about the long term future of their daughters or simply presume that they will become a great part of the Imperium’s well oiled structure. Not exactly their fault since they never grew up with anything resembling normal. On the brighter and wholesome side (whiplash change!), this is a man who finds handmade gifts more meaningful and always makes sure to explain the reason behind them mostly out of the enjoyment of watching his little princess look so amazed at her papa’s skills. More often than not, Ferrus’ belief of the strongest would falter a little as he perceives the true fragile nature of his daughter and, even if she share the resilient blood of a Primarch, that isn’t enough to convince him that she isn’t vulnerable but instead of letting the worry fester, he’ll try to teach the girl the art of fighting. That’s where the ‘tough love’ kind of guy I mentioned comes out to light. He will not spare kind words during those moments of teaching, as he wishes for his princess to prevail any difficulty but he’ll make sure to always end any sort of training with “I love you so much that the idea of one day not being there to protect you, pains me beyond any form” to make sure that his harsh actions have a reason behind. Honestly, it's the kind of father-daughter relationship that possesses so many shades that makes its own drama novel. Good thing that uncle Fulgrim is always there to smooth the hard edges that may come in the future and makes up for the lack of spoiling the little girl deserves. Ferrus is not amused by it. Forgot to mention that the Primarch will be even more motivated to take off the metal of his hands, for he has yet to truly feel the warm and soft flesh of his baby’s hand. It's the one feeling he keeps missing and craves so much.

Angron

Oh man, another of the hard ones. Okay, if I managed with Konrad, I can tackle this bitch too. You need to comprehend that we are talking about a guy that has been so intimate with the meaning of pain that it's amazing he’ll be capable of ranging through other emotions that don’t involve fury into that combo too. That being said, this whole shitshow of being the father of a young girl can only be described as sad AND tragic. First off, Angron’s daughter wouldn’t even be allowed to leave her chambers at The Conqueror for obvious safety reasons and having her stay on Terra can’t be an option too, as Angron would rather be death than leave in a silver plate this one single pittance of good he helped to create under the light of the Emperor. That being said, any little girl born from Angron would be terribly isolated and one can’t even blame the Primarch for that as he, despite his disposition, finds his daughter as a genuine reflection of what he could never ever dream to have or be. That sometimes results in him feeling short and spontaneous moments of anger from the impotence of not being able to be close to his daughter, let alone console her with anything resembling compassion. This is a man that is horribly aware that he’s away from one sharp stab of the Nails to his brain to end up killing his little girl in one single swat of his hand. The moments of anything resembling fatherly love are few and very tense, for Angron has to constantly be focused on not letting the pain control his actions and that always looks as if he’s dismissing his child’s love language or actions. What else can I say that most people don’t know already? This is just a sad story waiting to end in tragedy and had it not been for how Sanguinius ended during the heresy, I can see The Great Angel taking Angron’s daughter under his care as the only consolation and promise to his corrupted brother before his demise. After becoming a Daemon Prince, Angron’s only genuine and foggy memory of his little girl is her crying while calling him with heavy despair. Goddamn I almost tear up with this one.

Roboute Guilliman

Look at my big nerd! One of the few guys that actually is humble enough to feel more human than any of his brothers… sometimes. I gotta say it, Roboute has the vibe of what happens when someone incredibly autistic suddenly becomes a parent; expect lots of books to try and be prepared for what entails to take care of a mortal baby. He’ll have a wholeass strict routine of activities and diets that you AND the baby must follow to ensure both of your health along with “fun facts” regarding a toddler’s development that half of the time lack the keyword ‘fun’ in there. Honestly, Euten will be a BLESSING sent, for she’ll be the one railing back the most extreme attempts of her adoptive son to try and raise his little princess like she was just another task of paperwork. Over all his quirks, the Primarch of the Ultramarines is absolutely trying his hardest to be a good father just as the one that raised him, but this is a man that half of the time ends up clumsily trying to spend time with his little girl only for it to backfire as he simply doesn’t understand how to entertain his daughter. Good thing the child will simply be happy to spend time with her papa despite his weird personality. More often than not, some of the astartes will see the young lady at her father’s chambers in a little booster chair beside him, doodling on some papers to pretend that she’s a big girl helping her papa with his very important job. It's probably the most adorable sight anyone can ever get the chance to see. Just like most of his brothers, Roboute isn’t that good at expressing his love towards his daughter with words, so he simply let his little princess be on his lap and hug her as if it will be the last time.

Mortarion

I’ve written enough of this man being a father that you all can get a wild idea of how he will be when confronted with parenthood. Even if he believes himself to be undeserving of anything resembling happiness thanks to his perception of being nothing but a tool of the Emperor, this guy will only need to see his precious little flower and feel like everything in the world can be forgotten, including his ever festering negative emotions. His daughter is the single light of love that he selfilish believes is his right after such torturous upbringing although that mentality rarely affects his princess, as he simply shows nothing but care and tenderness towards her. He may be a nervous trainwreck, fully aware that his Legion and himself aren’t exactly safe-hazardous, but that never has stopped him from doing his utmost best to protect the little girl from anything that may hurt her. Like most of his traitorous brothers, Mortarion would not hesitate to bring entire worlds into devastation if it meant that his family can be safe, even if that’ll end up making a terrible gap to grow between him and those he loves. It's quite terrible and sad to know that, unlike Fulgrim or Angron, Mortarion was the closest to his daughter and showered her with as much genuine love as he could in an attempt to avoid being anything like his supposed father (adopted or creator equally), so when he turned into a Daemon Prince, the festering and rotting resentment that consumes him sometimes simmers down when he remembers the laugh of joy his little princess often released when he would carry her up in his arms. Oh yes, some good ol’ gut-wrenching emotional damage, teehee.

I will not apologize for being a mean bitch by writing sad shit. XOXO

[thetriumphantpanda]

i'm not the only one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | You have your baby. You have your family. But can you really have everything you want? Can you really have your cake and eat it too?

Warnings | Fluff, mentions of breastfeeding, small children (in my world they need to come with a warning because ew), let's say it one more time for old times sake: TOMMY GETTING CUCKED BECAUSE HE LOVES IT, dirty talk, fingering (f) and allusions to other smut.

Word Count | 1.9k

Authors Note | Wow. I just wanted to take some time to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read and supported me through this little fic. What started as a filthy little one-shot has become something super special to me. I'm so proud with how this turned out and I really hope that you love this ending as much as I do. I need to say a massive thank you to the JFC - @cavillscurls @dinsdjrn @morning-star-joy @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @sinsofsummers for continuously losing their mind over this fic with me and helping me come up with the ending where no-one gets their heart broken, I love you girls more than I can express 🧡 Thank you to each and every person who has read this, has given me their love, interacted with me and generally just made me the happiest girl for deciding to come back to fic writing. You're all awesome and I love each and every one of you. Please let me know what you thought of this, either by commenting, reblogging or sending me some love in my ask box, and if you'd like to support me with a donation, you can do so over on Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The late September sun is still warm, even as it begins dipping below the horizon, painting the sky a beautiful mix of pink and orange. The beer in your bottle is lukewarm, but you finish it off anyway, attention dropping to your son, sat on your knee, as you bounce it up and down to keep him occupied at the table. He’s just turned two and is a much better table companion at Joel’s birthday cook-out than he had been last year. He’s starting to show a little personality, babbling along when Sarah tried to talk to him, teasing Tommy when he hands his son a toy, throwing it to the ground because he already knows he’ll pick it right back up and play along. 

Everyone else has long gone by this point in the evening. This year’s celebration of Joel’s birthday being held at your house because he’s having his garden landscaped. It’s just the five of you, the people who matter most to you in life, sat around, finishing drinks and just enjoying each other’s company. Sarah yawns to your left, the day finally catching up with her. 

“You tired, bug?” Joel asks, smoothing a hand over her hair. 

“I’m not tired.” But she yawns again, chuckles erupting from the table. 

You poke at her arm, “Your room is ready whenever you are.” It had already been agreed that Sarah and Joel would stay here tonight, so he could have a drink and enjoy his birthday without worrying about driving home. 

To her credit, she lasts another hour sat at the table, but once Joshua starts fussing as well, it’s clear it’s time for everyone to call it a night. Joel kisses Sarah on the forehead, wishing her a goodnight as she heads inside. Tommy takes Joshua from your arms and presses a kiss to the top of your head, leaving you and Joel together for the first time that evening. You reach out your arm across the table, palm up to the darkening sky, Joel’s own, much larger hand, slipping into it. 

“Shall we go?” You ask, the smile across your face mirroring his own. 

“I think we should.” 

As you’re walking through the neighbourhood your mind drags back to this time last year and the conversation with Tommy as Joel’s birthday loomed on the horizon. 

“What do you think we should get him for his birthday?” Tommy asked, flipping through the catalogue of construction gear that comes through the letterbox every few months, “He was saying his toolbox is too small these days, maybe we can get him a bigger one?” 

Joshua is cradled against your chest, suckling as you feed him. You’d always wondered how the other women you knew could multitask before he’d been born. One of your best friends could breastfeed her child, cook dinner and talk to her older daughter all at the same time. Now, standing in the kitchen feeding your son, two pans on the stovetop as you cook, holding a conversation with Tommy, you realise it just came naturally. 

“I mean, we can,” You throw over your shoulder, “But I think that man deserves more than a toolbox for his birthday.” 

Once Joshua has finished feeding, you hand him to Tommy, along with placing a rag over his shoulder – you fed him, Tommy gets to burp him, that’s the deal. 

“I just feel bad,” You comment, going back to pushing the steak around the pan, “Do you not feel like you’ve kinda just abandoned him a little?” 

“What do you mean?” Tommy asks, patting his son on the back. 

You sigh, trying to focus on cooking as you speak, “I just mean that he did this for us, gave us this life we have now, and what are we going to do to thank him? Give him a toolbox? Just seems like we don’t care.” 

“Well, what would you suggest?” He asks, you're quiet in response, trying to think of how best to put this, "You miss him, don't you?" He finally asks.

You turn around, leaning against the counter to the side of the stove, “I do miss him,” You say simply, not afraid to admit it, “You said before Joshua was born that you understood the connection we have, I just want to give him something good.” 

Tommy has Joshua cradled in his arms now, trying to get him to go to sleep so he can lie him down and enjoy dinner with you in peace, "You wanna fuck him for his birthday?" There's a smirk on his lips, just like there was when you'd needed Joel before Joshua was born.

“Hey, language!” You chastise, pointing to his son in his arms, “Don’t say it like that either, you know you come first, you always have, I love you Tommy, but can’t we just give him one time, once a year, where I can really show him how grateful I am for what he gave us?” 

You can see him mull it over in his mind as he bounces his son in his arms before he relents, “Okay,” He’s smiling, and it reaches his eyes, so you know he really means it, “If that’s what you want, I’m happy.” 

You smile, walking over to kiss him, “I don’t deserve you,” You murmur against his lips, “I love you so very much, Tommy Miller.” 

Joel thinks, as he walks hand in hand with you back to his home, that he really didn’t need this. He didn’t need thanking for what he’d done. He remembers walking into your hospital room with Sarah after Joshua had been born – she’d insisted on picking the biggest and brightest bouquet of flowers for you and had been so excited to finally meet her nephew. He’d pushed open the door for her that day and had been overcome with a strange sense of satisfaction. 

You were propped up in bed, Joshua cradled in your arms, his tiny hand clutched around one of your fingers, Tommy stood, hand brushing your hair as he looked down at the both of you with pure adoration. He knew he’d given you everything in that moment, that he’d managed to make the two of you the happiest people ever, and that was enough. A fleeting moment in time between you and him, that had created the most beautiful baby boy he’d ever laid eyes on, he’d been happy to let it lie, to wait and see if you wanted more and came back to him down the line. 

He hadn’t expected that on his birthday last year, you’d have cornered him and kissed him with such passion that he wasn’t sure he’d survive once he pulled away from you. Then you explained, one night a year, he could choose when, where you could show him how thankful you were to him. A night just to yourselves, without Tommy’s eyes trailing over you both. Secret and sacred between the two of you. 

Once Joel has unlocked his front door and brought you inside, he wastes no time. He craves this, has spent the last year thinking of the moment he gets to fuse his lips with yours. It’s soft, as his mouth opens against yours, slow as your tongues meet, he doesn’t have to rush with you anymore, he gets you to himself for the whole night. He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Hey.” You smile softly. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” He’s smiling, palms resting at your hips, “You want me to take you upstairs? 

You bite at your bottom lip and breathe out, “Yes.” 

He leads you up the stairs, your hand clutched in his own, through the threshold of his bedroom. He settles himself on top of his sheets, head propped up on his pillows as he motions you to join him. You clamber onto the bed, crawling up his body on your hands and knees until you’re straddling his hips with your mouth back on his. 

As you grind your hips down onto him, his hands coming to cup your ass under your dress, you can feel him growing hard for you. All you want is to strip him down and put your mouth on him, but it seems he has other ideas, and since this is all for him, you let him take the lead. He slips his hands under the waistband of your panties, warm hands on your flesh as he pulls them down as far as they’ll go in this position. 

“Lie down for me, babygirl.” He whispers against your lips, you oblige, settling yourself down on your back as he pulls your underwear off fully, shucking the hem of your dress up to your hips. 

He’s got one of his arms under your head, his lips at your ear as you spread your legs for him, letting his fingers slip through your folds to gather the slick that has slowly been gathering there all evening as you both watched each other, knowing what was coming. 

“So wet for me, pretty girl,” He breathes into your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth to nibble as he slips two of his fingers into your tight pussy, “Been thinking about me?” 

He drags those fingers from your core, up to your clit where he begins to play soft circles across it, it’s so gentle that your breath catches in your throat as you arch yourself into his hand, “Couldn’t stop,” You admit, turning your face to kiss his lips, “Thought about you all day.” 

He dips his fingers back into your cunt as he kisses you, you can feel him smirk against your lips when you grind down to meet his fingers, “I’ve been thinking about you all year, hot mama, couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.” 

He brings his slick fingers back up to your swollen bundle of nerves, showering it with attention as you whimper for him, arching your back and bucking your hips, fingers gripping at his arm as he works you to the crest. You come for him, moaning into his mouth as he kisses you, his fingers making sure they work you for every ounce of your orgasm. 

Joel has you more times than he can count that night. He brings you over the edge over and over again until you can do nothing but sob, beg for a reprieve but beg him not to stop. You let him put you in positions you didn’t know possible, his cock thick and heavy inside you, brushing that spot within you that makes you sing and scream for him. He fills you up with his cum, protected by the pill you take each morning, and then, when the sun is rising and the beginnings of the day break through his drawn curtains, you lie on his chest, fingers drawing patterns on his skin, slick with sweat. You’re both sore, both spent, and both happy, most importantly. You know that within the hour you’ll have to start the walk back to your own home and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Sarah will think her dad slept on your couch and you were in your rightful place, in bed next to Tommy, and that's how it will continue to be for another year, happy with the man you love, but safe in the knowledge that you still have this slice of heaven each year. The play will continue for another year – the doting uncle and niece, the happy family with their growing son, and you’ll be happy, because this is all you’ve ever needed. 

“I love you.” Joel whispers, lips pressing a kiss to your forehead as he brushes the sweat slicked hair from your face, his eyes mapping every inch of you, claiming this scene as his own, committing it to memory so he has one thing he can think of, in the depths of his nights, when he feels the loneliest. To remind him that he’s not lonely at all, because even if he can only have you once a year, at least he can have you. He’s a simple man and he’s happy to take this one moment with you, until you decide you want more from him, if that’s ever the case. 

“I love you too Joel.” 

[poetry-protest-pornography]

Oof.

Lots of feelings about this episode. Rambly-y highlights/bullet points while I think obsessively about it to further hurt myself expand on them:

Rosé continues to be a villain, and it keeps getting worse?

She was fine with playing the game, even with her hunch that Lompran was playing the "real version" with real people's lives on the line -- which isn't a stretch, because she was fine when it was her father's livelihood, and her own future on the line, and didn't much up too much fuss about Jack being part of the stakes, either.

She had just witnessed Jack have to beg to spare the life of Auntie Jaeb, and she suggests they go "celebrate", then doubles down on the idea after learning that Jack's grandma is in the hospital. Sprinkle in a bunch of "it's just money she lost, and you can just get more of that!" tone-deaf and insanely insensitive and out of touch nonsense, and it is very clear that none of these "poor people" are real people to her. Jack kind of gets treated like he is a person, but only so far as he indulges her whims, because forcing a person who is clearly barely keeping it together to take you for drinks and dancing is straight up villain shit.

She traipses through Jack's house and is completely unaffected at having seen Jaeb and Joke threatened at gun point, only cares if Jack is ready to "celebrate" with her. (Watching Jack turn on that fake smile was painful. Watching Joke watch it happen was worse).

AND THEN she's like "oh, sorry, we didn't see a way to make money off your friend's idea, but I can try to get him hired as a servant in my house, so it's basically the same thing, right?!" And Jack is forced to agree that it is good and not insane and fucked up that she's trying to get in Jack's pants while suggesting that his friends might be good enough to clean her bathrooms.

And then there's Top.

(and have we talked about how shitty it is to name one kid "Joke" and the other "Top" and pretend like you have no influence on how those kids move through the world? Because jfc I hate their parents)

Top swoops in and saves Joke from being caught in disguise, and seems to make some genuine overtures of brotherly affection, but it's all wrapped up in his toxic view on what parental love looks like.

He's trying, and Joke is clearly surprised but cautiously happy about it. But his whole speech about how his dad "shows love" was insane. Straight up abuse apologia. Because while yes, sometimes when two people love each other, they hurt each other on purpose because that's easier than being vulnerable, but that is not how parents are supposed to be with their children.

It is not acceptable "it's so funny how you can't just talk to each other" behavior for a parent to continuously reject their kid, and then expect love and obedience in return.

That's not how it's supposed to be, and I am so grateful that Joke has had a taste of what a healthy(ish) family dynamic is, because it allowed him to call his dad out and to (kind of) tell his brother that he's wrong, and then both Ama and Jack establish that Joke is part of their family, so he gets immediate payoff for his assertion that family is supposed to talk to each other and comfort for his subsequent rejection (again).

But yeah, Top's whole speech made me so. mad.

Hoy, Tattoo, and Arun were delightful, and I loved that they were all there with Jack and Joke while Amma was in surgery. Offering support and also relationship scrutiny. It was also so cute how invested in Tattoo's project Arun was; he believes in him so wholeheartedly, it's adorable.

Anyways, let's just stare at this for a while:

[inkblot22]

Can You Keep A Little Secret?

JFC this took me longer than usual I'm so sorry anon. I sort of explained it before, but I didn't exactly use your prompt, based on ineptitude on my part. After I finish reading Oshi no Ko, I might try again! Line divider by @/cafekitsune.

This fic is aimed towards sort of everyone, but the reader possesses afab features (they don't come into play until later, this chapter has no mention of them.) You'll understand what I mean by it being for everyone if you read the first paragraph or so. It has to do with suspending your belief/ employing your imagination.

TW for: lots of confusion, semi-shy reader, creep behavior, mention of death, mention of lobotomy/grippy sock jail, reincarnation. These warnings will get worse, and this takes place when all characters are 18+.

Waking up was never your favorite part of the day, but that feeling increases tenfold when you wake up in someone else’s body. You know for sure you didn’t look like this last week, and the name on your ID is similar to your own, but you don’t recognize the face in the mirror. Whoever you’re inhabiting has a few similar features to your own, but your skin was never this dewy, your eyes never so… hollow and strange. 

When you looked up your name, you found out that you, or your body, at least, had died in your sleep. When you looked up the name on that ID, you found out that you’re the child of some big business man and a prolific model, and you apparently dabble in acting. Your dad isn’t your dad, but he calls you every night to make sure you’re settling into your “new” apartment. Your mom isn’t your mom, but she has popped by once or twice to ask you how you’ve been and make you really good food. She mentioned last night that your acting instructor was worried, since you hadn’t attended your Thursday classes, and also that your agent has been trying to contact you. You didn’t know you had an agent.

When you called your agent, who was literally just titled “Agent” in your new phone, she sounded relieved then irritated, chiding you for living the high life too fast. She said you weren’t popular or loved enough to go on week-long benders, and then she mentioned that she had a job for you and she’d see you on Thursday. According to this phone that isn’t yours, Thursday was tomorrow. 

You made a night of getting prepared- slathering on the fancy face masks, trying on various outfits, scrolling through the pictures on the phone of your new body in the past, painting your really gorgeous nails- and then you went to sleep and woke up to a phone call from your new dad. 

“Hi, sweetheart!”

“Uh… hi, Dad…” You mumbled. You didn’t know him from Adam, but there was no point in being rude to him.

He pauses, and then he speaks slowly, “Did you hear from your agent, honey?”

“Yeah- yeah I did, uh, I have acting class in a little, and she said she has a job for me.”

“Oh, I’m glad to hear it! You know you can always visit me if something is wrong, okay? Just call me or Devin and he’ll come get you as soon as possible.”

You don’t know who Devin is, but you don’t point it out, “Of course. Thank you, dad.”

There was another pause. This one stretches out for a while and then he mumbles, “Okay… love you, sweetpea.”

“Uh… love you too. I’ll call you when I get back home?”

“Sure thing. Bye bye.”

The call ends with a click and you hop in the shower, trying to scrub away the confusion. You pair the lotion with a body spray that makes you smell like a summer afternoon in an apple orchard, and then you dress yourself in a soft off the shoulder sweater dress with a pair of tights with little sequins and gems sewn onto the sheer black material. You pull your hair back, tied at the nape of your neck, and roll on some lip gloss. You grab your bag, which isn’t your bag, and stroll out, walking down the street to get to the talent agency.

The receptionist looks at you in some measure of shock and greets you kindly. You smile and wave. He looks even more confused as you clomp into the stairwell. Once you get to the third floor, mildly out of breath, you hurry to room 3-5 and silently slide into the back.

You’re not sure why you’re acting so covert, as the class hasn’t even started. A woman with dark hair strolls in and flinches when she sees you sitting there, your new name tumbling from her lips with confusion.

“Hello.” You hope that she’s the instructor, “How are you?”

She looks at you like you grew two heads and forces a smile, “Oh, I’m well, dear. Give me a moment to look outside.”

She clicks to the window in her heels and opens the blinds looking around wildly before she turns back to you.

“Well, nothing’s on fire and there’s a distinct lack of flying pigs, so I guess you’re finally serious about getting better at acting?” 

“Uh… I…?” You don’t know how to respond, “I didn’t realize I’d been late so often.”

“Late? Half the time you didn’t even show up. The only person worse than you is-”

The door behind you opens. You clench your hands to stop the shaking you just realized you were struggling with, and turn slightly in your seat to see a willowy young man, tousled lavender hair being haphazardly smoothed by his slender hands.

The instructor snorts, “Speak of the devil. Hello, Mr. Felmier.”

He smiles, but it’s a bit too calculated. When he speaks, his voice is soft, almost artificial, “Ah ha… Good morning, Angie.”

Angie, evidently, rolls her eyes and takes a seat at the front of the room, crossing her long legs, and tilts her head skeptically, “Sure. If a satellite doesn’t crash in this room and kill us all in the middle of class, I’ll be shocked.”

“Mr. Felmier” walks over and smiles at you. It seems even more strained than before, and keeps eye contact with you as he points to the chair next to you, his voice high and sweet, “Mind if I sit here?”

“Oh, of course not. I don’t own that chair, haha!” You joke. 

His face twitches, some micro expression that you’re just observant enough to notice, but not to see, and he takes a seat. Angie gets up and leaves and you look out the window. You can feel eyes on you, and when you turn to look at him, his face is impassive save for a slight narrowing of his eyes. You look down at yourself and pat your cheeks, suddenly nervous.

“Oh, no, is there something on me?” You ask.

He doesn’t immediately respond, his eyes blinking so fast that if he hadn’t done it twice you would have never seen the movement, and then he gives you that sweet, plastic smile, “Oh, no. Your makeup is different than usual. It looks nice. Pretty.”

“I- I’m only wearing lipgloss, so I guess that’s why. Thank you.”

He nods slowly, and tilts his head, still smiling as though he’s trained to do so, “After we’re done here, did you want to go get brunch together?”

You’re about to say no. You don’t remember him, because this is not your life you’re living, but if you did know him, you’d decline anyway. Something feels funny about him. You don’t really have to decline, though, since you have to go down to floor 2 and see your agent afterwards anyway, “Oh, uh, I’m so sorry. I have to do something after.”

“I can wait.”

“I don’t want to put you out. Maybe another time?”

His eyebrows pinch together ever so slightly and his smile doesn’t strain, but it feels wrong as he leans his elbow on the back of his chair to better face you, “Did you hear the news from Mirelle?”

“What news?” You don’t know who Mirelle is.

“Oh, you’re meeting with her afterwards, aren’t you?” He smooths the hair along your temple so it is slicked behind your ear, “Are you wearing that perfume I got you? You said you hated it.”

Okay, so whoevers body this was definitely knew this man, and now you don’t even know his full name. Judging from the way he’s speaking to you, you were friends at least. Your lashes flutter and you look away from him.

“I- I’m sorry. It smells very nice.” You don’t know how you’re supposed to be acting. The irony of waiting for an acting class while not knowing what your role here happens to be is not lost on you.

Felmier sits up like you insulted him and his voice is quiet, so quiet and tense that you don’t think you’re supposed to hear him, “Interesting.” 

You glance at him again, “What?”

“I didn’t say anything. You like that bagel place down the street, don’t you? After you see Mirelle, meet me in the lobby. I think we should have a chat.” Although he is smiling, his voice doesn’t leave any room for argument as he turns back to the front. 

You stand up, leaving your purse in your seat, and walk to the window, looking out of it for a moment until Angie strolls back in. She clicks her tongue and you walk back to your seat.

“It’s just you two? Now I’m really expecting a freak accident. Well, let’s get started.”

Acting class was… interesting. Since it was just the three of you, Angie had you read lines from a script and act out some kind of argument. She seemed pleased with your performance, but Felmier kept stumbling over his lines and making the wrong expression. He seemed tense by the time the two hour long session was over. You didn’t want to follow that thread, and besides, you had somewhere to be. You went down the stairs again and bumped into a woman with silver hair, who looked at you just as confused as everyone else had been, and smiled sweetly, genuinely.

“Hey, you. You’re a bit early.” She says.

“Uh, yeah. I guess so? I don’t know.” You guessed this was supposed to be Mirelle, your agent, maybe. 

“It’s a good change, babe. Why don’t you come into my office?” She doesn’t really ask, since she’s already leading you over.

She takes a seat behind her desk and you take a seat in front of her, and she taps away at her computer for a moment before she says something.

“You remember Epel? Epel Felmier?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Oh? You ‘guess so’? Not that the two of you are constantly arguing, or anything.” She smirks, glancing away from her monitor to look at you, “Regardless, I’ve got something that will help with your little PR nightmare last month. What were you thinking?”

“Uh, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes narrow a fraction, but whatever she was thinking is ignored, “You and Epel are gonna be collaborating on an upcoming short film. Hopefully the two of you don’t get into another screaming match.”

“Um. Yeah. Hopefully.” All this new information and these new people are making your head spin. You don’t want to start panicking- you did enough of that last week- but you’re already exhausted. You wonder if there’s a back entrance to this building so you can just sneak out and don’t have to talk to Epel again. You don’t think you can mentally handle him talking to you over a cup of coffee.

Your agent, Mirelle, is looking at you expectantly, like she just said something. Your heart jumps into your throat, then sinks to your gut and you clear your throat quietly, shifting in your chair.

She laughs airily, “Oh, you didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”

You shake your head, and she laughs again.

“I just said that production starts Monday. Try not to do anything crazy. This project is monumentally important for your public image.”

“Okay. Sorry for causing so much trouble in the past.” You mutter, standing up.

She shrugs with a happy little grin, “Oh, you’re young. Maybe you’ll grow out of it.”

You just nod. How are you supposed to even respond to that? If you get mad, you’ll probably get hysterical, and if you get hysterical, that is a one way ticket to a stay in grippy sock jail or a lobotomy. Rich people are different, and even though you’re living in some rich person’s body, you did not live this life for longer than a week. 

You purposely walk to the other staircase. Most buildings have two for fire safety. Your eyes water as you pause on the stairs and you sigh before you start descending them. 

Just as you get to the exit, your hand on the door, you hear a voice behind you, “Hey.”

It scares you out of your skin. You jump and spin and squawk, only to meet the wicked smile of Epel. It doesn’t reach his round blue eyes. He tilts his head from side to side, slowly, as if appraising you, and then he starts walking towards you and you push back against the door, opening it ever so slightly. He stops his motion and looks a tad surprised.

Then his eyes narrow, “Come back in.”

His voice sounds different, rougher. You don’t really want to, but it’s hot outside and you figure from all the odd looks and reactions you’ve gotten, running would be too erratic for this poor person’s life you’ve taken over. 

When you close the door and remain leaned against it, Epel’s face relaxes. You didn’t even realize he was making any sort of tense expression. He glances at the spandrel, the area beneath the stairs, and sighs.

“You hit your head last week? That why you were missin’?” Yeah, he’s speaking entirely differently. He has a sort of charming country twang to his voice, an underlying roughness that makes him seem even more boyish than before.

“Huh?”

“‘Huh?’” He mocks, looking back at you. He looks like he might cry, but his eyes are angry, “That all you got to say? For years you’ve told me that I don’t mean shit, and now you’re actin’ like you don’t even know me.”

He is right. You don’t know him at all. Even though you’re still in the cool building, you begin to sweat. You don’t know what to say to this without going through the experiences you’ve had in the past week, so you decide you don’t have to, especially since it seems like he may get aggressive if you say the wrong thing.

You lean hard against the aptly named panic bar, turn on your heel once outside, and take off running. It dawns on you a little late that he might be following, or, seven forbid, that he knows where you live, so you take a different route as dictated by your GPS and call your new father as soon as you get in the building.

It’s the middle of the work day, so he obviously doesn’t pick up. You unlock the apartment door and pant breathlessly, leaving a hasty voicemail, “O-oh, great seven- ugh- okay, hi, Dad. I told you I’d call you when I get home, so that’s what I’m doing. Hope I didn’t disrupt a meeting or whatever. Call me back, bye.”

You flop face down on the bed and groan, rolling onto your back as the ringtone that you would never choose goes off. In bold white letters on the screen, it says “Bumpkin Boy” with no other indication of who it might be. You pick up.

The voice on the other end sounds heated, a quiet mocking lilt to it, “Bet you went home, huh?”

Your blood runs cold and your very ability to speak is ripped from your lips.

“S’okay. You don’t have to talk. I could pay you a little visit, see what it’s like to live like a nepo baby for a day, but I think…” He pauses, and when he next speaks you hear the smile in his voice, “I think I’ll just wait for Monday, since you owe me a coffee date, don’t you?”

He hangs up after that. You stand up and double-check that you’ve locked the door before you hide in your closet and try not to start hyperventilating. You can’t even beat yourself up for this one. These circumstances are entirely out of your control.

[gemsofgreece]

https://lithub.com/enduring-epics-emily-wilson-and-madeline-miller-on-breathing-new-life-into-ancient-classics/

What's with Madeline miller and Emily wilson claiming that they are bringing something new in Greek mythology and being applauded for it?

Emily also is a translator and from what i read completely changed the meaning of words and characters like calling Agamemnon a cannibal king. A translator's work isn't making their own story on top of the old one.

It's disrespectful to Homer's work and he gets overshadowed by modern authors that push modern ideologies into classic works that should have stayed neutral.

Why are western writers like this ??? 😖😖😖 I read the interview and I would say some parts of it were okay but I will mention here the ones that gave me secondhand embarrassment:

My god, this can’t be real. The literature class in American school has messed up many brains. Dogface, κύνοψ in Ancient but surviving in Modern as σκυλομούρης - σκυλομούρα is a swear word. More precisely dog-face could mean someone ugly whose face looks like a dog’s, but it could also imply a cruel looking face, a lowlife whose lowlifeness is evident in their face and so on. The struggle of modern translators and academics is unreal - “we can’t use a bad word for a woman - perhaps she meant dog-face as a symbolism of loyalty, of a fierce huntress like Artemis, of an obedient and long lasting friend uwu” - no sweetie she meant: “I hate myself, I am a bitch and as repulsive as one”. Sorry. Meanwhile, swear word for a man; “Clearly, it can’t just be a swear word spoken in anger, Agamemnon must in fact be a cannibal” 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Yeah, great. Just head on acknowledging that Iliad is not as queer as young American audiences are misled to believe. I love how there is a vibe of apologism in the air because Wilson, as a translator, didn’t have the endless entitlement to go as berserk on the characters as Miller did. I also love the iconic addition that “admittedly there aren’t many queer warriors and athletes in American culture” so she implies they have to keep Patrochilles (🤦‍♀️) at any cost! NEWSFLASH: ACHILLES AND PATROCLUS ARE NOT A PART OF AMERICAN CULTURE!!! Whether gay or straight friends - they are not part of your Marvel and DC culture!!! Oh my god!!!

What’s your business responding to readers’ expectations, Emily? Your business is to translate Homer for English audience. Whether they will like it or not, it’s their business. You are not appointed to “excuse” Homer to anyone or make him palatable to Marvel fans! Jfc

I will say I agree with her that Achilles and Patroclus’ relationship is ambiguous but I hate that she clearly dreads to openly admit that for fear of what American 17 year olds will feel about it. It is another example of how the last years the definition of truth has morphed into what one wants to hear rather than what is factually the case.

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 12

chapter 22:

1. 😟😟 all james wants is for sirius to be there for james the way james ALWAYS was for sirius

2. 😟 james wished hodge happy birthday even though hodge died yesterday. i- i am not okay

3. “Regulus never fails to look up. Evan would be proud of him for that, he thinks.” 😧 that was vile to put in there

4. james has resorted to BEGGING for medicine from sirius and can’t understand why sirius won’t send any. this hurts so bad

5. nope. i’m done. i can’t read any more. james started looking forward to death cause he would be out of this arena and out of pain. jfc i’m done

6. anyways. i’m back cause i couldn’t stop reading.

7. REGULUS AND JAMES ARE REUNITED!!! THANK GOD!!! 😊

8. 😧 wait nevermind. james just mistook regulus for sirius. “James has never, not once in his life under any circumstances, mistaken Regulus for Sirius”

9. james is delulu from medicine and reg just found out that the plan has always been to get reg home. this hits like a motherfucking truck

10. james is high as a fucking kite, can’t figure out why “sirius” is being mean to him, cause he’s never been mean to him. and is also wondering why “sirius” is oddly attractive for being mean

11. it takes james half a chapter, and reg cutting his shirt for james to realize it’s not sirius. cause sirius has different scars. i love james sm 😭😭

12. “What was Sirius thinking? Drugging James? In the middle of the fucking hunger games? That might be the most idiotic thing Regulus has ever known his brother to do, and this is Sirius he's talking about, so that's saying a lot. Sirius once flipped a cigarette in the air and tried to catch it with his mouth while it was lit, and kept doing it until he could actually consistently manage it, no matter how much it burned him. Though, in fairness, he can still do that trick to this day.”

LMAO WHAT??? that’s so random and i love it

13. 😧 legit sobbing. reg says that james lost the spark in his eyes. and he’s the one person he expected to never lose his spark

14. reg reveals that they both can go home. james’ spark is back. i’m sobbing harder now. they’re so in love

15. i eat, breathe, and dream those author end notes. bizzarestars writes their end notes the way my brain processes the fic. <33

chapter 23:

1. starting the chapter off with pain, i see. losing vanity changed james. like. horribly changed him.

2. “What Regulus hates more than James is his suffering.” jfc he’s so emotionally constipated

3. james is sad and all reg can think is hmmmm i want him to start flirting with me again, because it meant he was happy bitch wtf

4. awww they’re cuddling and just got a package! my babies are gonna make it out!

5. reg realizes he has to put on a show, so he offers to feed james. and wants to gouge his eyeballs out for offering that. 😭😭😭😭

6. i’m dying from embarrassment but this is also so fucking funny. reg is like. let’s talk about our feelings. for each other. and james is just like *head tilt* ???

7. “"You weren't my first crush, James," Regulus whispers. "You were my first love."”

james didn’t just make reg feel good, he made reg feel and i am NOT okay.

8. “This whole time, Regulus has been steady on the fact that he wouldn't kiss James to save his own life, but he's apparently willing to do it to save James'.”

JFC why is he so emotionally constipated???

9. THEY KISS????? james is gonna be heartbroken when he realizes it was all an act

10. oh thank god james realized. at least it broke his heart now and not in two weeks

11. *squints* now reg has never wanted anything more than this kiss. girl. please. realize.

12. god, i’ve never read a kiss more beautifully and emotionally desperate written.

13. 😏 reg called him baby again!

14. oh god, maybe i’m just as bad as everyone in the hallow. maybe i’m just as bad as them. cause i enjoy their romance. i enjoy it so much. maybe i’m just as bad as the hallow for that. i- i think this every time i read the hunger games.

15. “James wants to sink his teeth into Regulus and leave the deep imprints of his teeth from one jutting hip bone to the other.” sometimes i forget that jegulus is a little unhinged in ways like this. and every time i’m reminded, I LOVE IT

16. “"You treat me like I'm stupid for daring to see good in people, but if there's no good in anyone, then what's the fucking point?"”

this entire section. this. this is what james is all about

17. 😟 authors note just told me i’m no better than a hallow. for my excitement over jegulus. and- yeah. i guess so. i’m so sorry y’all

[sapphic-agent]

Momo rewrite anon here!

Good news! I'm making the Momo rewrite AU it's own thing with it's lore, worldbuilding, characters! It'll have a similar structure to MHA, but not entirely. I would love to hear what you all personally wanted out of MHA and I will incorporate into this new world! I'm making a blog for it, so it can be a collaborative effort! I'll be working on it soon!

Anon, you're the coolest person I've ever met.

This is genuinely so cool! A collective effort to not only give Momo the justice she deserves but also fix Horikoshi's atrocious world building and characters.

Personally, I'd like to see:

Depth for Momo, of course: her home life, why she wants to be a hero, how she got so good at using her quirk, etc. Some people headcanon that she's the product of a successful quirk marriage, so that's something to consider

More exposure for the female pros and girls in the class (also, please fix Mirko and Midnight, I'm begging Horikoshi did them so wrong)

Autonomy for Izuku (your trans Izuku ideas are great btw)

Actual consequences for Bakugou (I personally don't mind if he's redeemed or not, as long as his actions aren't treated like they're okay)

Endeavor losing everything (I need to see this pls)

Justice for Rei

Dad Might (and also insight into Toshinori's trauma because I love him as a dad but jfc this man has been through hell)

Rewrite of Hawks' character, anything is better than what we got in canon

Rehabilitation options for villains (doesn't have to be for all or any of the LOV specifically)

Actual exploration into Eri's trauma

These are just a few of my suggestions! Feel free to use or ignore any of them. And message me when you do make the blog!

[overrgrown]

stray my stand in thoughts in no particular order (e1-7 spoilers) ~

sorry it's long lmao I have a lot of jumbled thoughts that I need to yell about so this is me screaming into the void

Joe being used as a stand in by ming and tong is very telling

ming honestly doesn't act like a spoiled rich brat. he's occasionally entitled, but he's very polite to staff and he genuinely cares for his sister.

I don't think that ming wants to hurt his sister. he wants tong to choose him instead of his sister so that he can break her heart instead and then ming isn't to blame

idk if ming was ever trying to be subtle to Joe about what he was to him. he flat out told him he was a stand in (just didn't mention for who)

Joe getting a second chance at a maternity figure only to have her immediately fall into major trouble and then health issues has got to be triggering the fuck out of Joe rn

do we find out where Joe 2.0's spirit is at all? and what happened to OG Joe's body??

jfc poom is so pretty I can't focus

ik sol and ming are more than likely gonna become friends at some point but my messy ass would LOVE to see them be bitter bitches to the end with each other

where did ming get the chain....?

it's making me so fucking sad that Joe is falling back into his previous direct footsteps bc of his situation and its literally all he knows to do. same people, same habits, same mannerisms, same career, everything

he has an opportunity to completely rebrand and live his life without being under ming's thumb but he is consciously choosing to stay around him. why? what is so alluring about the person who used and emotionally cheated on you for who knows how long and then drunkenly called you the target of his actual affections????

Joe is not only too humble. I think he genuinely doesn't think he deserves better. this life is all he's ever known and he's never had the stones to try and improve himself and get his own life

his job is literally to be a nameless, faceless body double who does the work for a person who gets to take all the credit

(not that I'm shit talking real stunt doubles. y'all are the core of my fave action movies and ily)

but it says a lot about Joe's character and how passive he is usually and it's so interesting to me that he's the big risk taker when it comes to his stunts but he's too scared to make a move to improve his life or branch out on his own

those inconsiderate little bitches. you can't just add a character willy nilly to an already finished script. it'll throw off the whole movie and that's way more work for the writers

yo that hesitation at Joe not being able to break those mugs???? I felt it physically that was GOOD FUCKING ACTING

sol has never done anything wrong in his life he could murder someone in front of me in cold blood and I would help him cover it up

I would come out to sol i trust him with my party drink I'll go to war for him

damn bro how the hell did Joe get roped into being a stand in for HIMSELF that's some meta shit right there. like how is this not just self harm bc that's what it seems like to me

tharn? that's a new name. will we meet him?

ming's condo being green and gold like Joe's old house I am chewing on fucking concrete

OH THE MIRROR SWIPE THE HARSH REMINDER THAT HE IS IN ANOTHER BODY AND THAT HE IS USING THAT BODY AS A STAND IN FOR HIMSELF AND THAT HE NOT ONLY SOLD HIMSELF TO MING BUT HE SOLD JOE 2.0'S BODY GOD THAT WAS *chefs kiss*

is the backception here that ming is kissing Joe 2.0's back bc it reminds him of OG Joe or because it reminds him of Joe reminding him of tong hmmmmmmmmm either way: seek help babe you have a problem

the juicy juicy parallel of ming waking up to an empty pillow I'm gulping this shit down like water this is my life blood rn thank you for the delicious meal

i am not immune to the mesh shirt

AHA I THINK I JUST MET THARN

Update: I am correct

JOE'S ACCIDENT WAS A SUICIDE ATTEMPT?!?!?!?!? holy fuck bro

I thought I was going to hate ming a lot more when I started this bc I have a lot of manipulation trauma but I kind of.... get him

how old is tharn supposed to be bc he looks 16 and it's unsettling

I knew we couldn't trust that twink

YAS BABE YOU LOSE YOUR SHIT YOU YELL YOU GET MAD YOU TELL PEOPLE TO FUCK OFF YOU KICK THARN OUT OF YOUR ROOM DESERVE TO UNHINGE YOURSELF A BIT

ming is about to step off the edge I can feel it this man is about to overflow and drown everyone around him in his search for Joe

"tOng PlaYed tHe scENe hImsELF" oh so tong has always been a piece of shit got it

shut the fuck up why am I actually getting emotional over ming realizing that his Joe is the one in front of him and that it's been him all along

but on another note I am going to pound him into the cement for interrupting that shoot I hope the footage wasn't ruined by ming's emo ass

the back hug with the clear JOE though and comparing it to their first meeting?? stupendous no notes

up is going in a bubble I am kissing his forehead he acted the fuck outta that last scene MWAH

[blooming-violets]

Shit I forgot to put this in my rb but I wanted to ask what do you think would happen to reader if Peter actually went through with it? I'd like to be a but optimistic and say she surely but slowly recovers from it all but I'm not so sure. How would Aunt May react to that? Becoming a widow then a grieving mother in the span of a few years? Sorry I don't mean to be pushy but like I said I loved the way you beautifully crafted this story from an ask

Trigger Warnings!!!!: it's all about suicide and talking about it and discussing it, it is not something everyone feels comfortable reading or conversing about so please don't continue if it is too upsetting for you, Peter Parker kills himself and I write about it, Gwen's death ptsd is explored and he sees her as a rotting corpse version of herself who talks to him before he dies, the grief of losing someone you love to suicide is also talked about, it's all depressing but if you love depressing angst shit then come on over and join in (not join in on the killing yourself part jfc I mean joining in on the talking about this story) READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION only you know what you are capable of handling when you read. I can't help you any further than explaining the warnings.

Previous posts where this is all discussed:

[first part] [second part] and I rewrite this drabble from two years ago to fit this story but you can read the original here if you feel like it (it ends with less death that this one).

One of my darker, more angsty headcanons is that Peter kills himself by throwing himself off the same clock tower Gwen died in. It takes a few years for it to get rebuilt back to it's former glory. Peter patiently waits those years until it's finally finished. Almost a quiet, stoic sort of patience. A little scary with how composed he is. Like not given any indication of his plans. He wears a beautifully composed mask until the day it happens because he is so sure in his plans and doesn't want a single person to sway him from them. He's stubborn and set in his ways and this is what he feels he needs to do. This headcanon doesn't exactly fit into the story I wrote as that version of Peter is much more unhinged in his actions, and I don't think clocktower Peter could ever let himself get into a relationship because he's too obsessed with Gwen still and knows he's going to die so he's not going to bring anyone else into that mess, but it's just a little random headcanon I always had so I thought I would share since this is suicide talking hour. Maybe I can rework it a bit to fit with this story better.

Let's say unhinged Peter (as I'm calling him now lol) does let the ghosts win. What happens to our Reader character would entirely depend on when in the relationship he went through with it. If she's too far gone and too far down the hole after Peter, then I sort of fear for her future. Unless she has someone really important in her life who would help her, I think she would just keep sinking until she ended up back on that ledge, except this time there's no Peter to catch her. And I personally don't think she has anyone that close to her, especially after mentioning that all her friends stopped texting her or asking her to hang out. They all kind of gave up on her so, when she's at her lowest, I really don't think anyone would be the wiser due to the isolation they both put themselves in.

I want to rewrite something I wrote two years ago that either wasn't that great and people didn't like or it just slipped under the radar (because it wasn't about an x reader or love or anything, it was just Peter's ptsd taking over and sometimes people don't give a shit about a fic if it isn't tagged with x reader). It fits really well in this new story to help show what could go on in Peter's head with how terribly Gwen still sticks with him and what exactly it is he's "seeing" that would push him to throwing himself off a building.

Cut to me pausing to frantically google if Peter Parker could survive a fall off a building or if his super powers make him strong enough to withstand it...

Okay maybe falling isn't the best plan of action but I really like (like isn't the right word but I'm going with it) that idea of him mimicking Gwen's death because he's so haunted by it. He would want to feel what she felt. He would want to go the same way. So for the sake of this story, he's can't withstand that fall.

“Leave me alone!” Peter shouted into the dark shadows of the clock tower. He sat huddled against the newly built glass wall that domed up over his head. The bright, white light of the moon hung in the sky above him and casted wavering shadows around him to mess with his vision. The turning of grinding gears below him haunted his memories of the night Gwen died. Eight years and she still haunted him every time he dared to fall asleep.

He couldn't take it anymore. His head was a mess. His thoughts were spinning.

He was just so tired.

He had fallen asleep here accidentally. Maybe if he went to the source of the problem, she would disappear. It was a stupid plan

It only made her stronger. This was where his ghost of her was most alive.

Maybe that's why he really showed up. He wanted to see her. He wanted to finally confront his demons. She was calling to him and he had to answer.

He had slipped a crushed up sleeping pill into his girlfriends water during dinner. He carried her bed, tucked her in, and kissed her soft and gently. She didn't need to see this. This wasn't for her. She needed to be free of him. He needed to let her go before it was too late. She wouldn't understand at first but, maybe, with time...

What had time ever done for him except make Gwen stronger?

He slipped an envelope onto the bedside table beside her. One for her. One for May. He wasn't sure if he would make it home this time. His mind could still change. He could still make it back before she woke up.

But they were.

Just in case.

He couldn't leave them with nothing.

She was here now. Ready to haunt him like usual. Ready to take over and ruin him. Night after night. Day after day. She was always there. Gwen never left. She walked beside him through it all.

Tonight, she was angry. Furious. This was where he had let her die. Of course, she would be the most powerful here.

He no longer had his girlfriend to help soften Gwen's blows. There was no one to intervene. Only him and Gwen. Stuck in a staring contest. Sizing each other up.

The sunken in face of his dead lover glared back at him from just below his edge of his of his perch, trembling from the sight under him. She was standing on top of a giant gear, watching him, judging him. A large smile grew across her pale, bluing lips. It was too wide. Too big for her face. Her teeth looked rotten and jagged inside of her mouth. A trickle of blood slowly trailed out of her nostril.

“What’s the matter, Peter?” She taunted. Her sickly voice swirled around his head like a swarm of mosquitos. “Did you miss me? Is that why you came here? To see me clearly again? Well, here I am. Look at me. Dead. Putrefied. All for you. Aren't I beautiful? This is what you've done to me.”

A loud sob shuddered through his chest and ripped out his throat. He brought up a hand to wipe away the snot flowing freely out his nose. This nightmare was too familiar. He knew this too well. He didn't feel like he was dreaming this time. He never did.

If it wasn't a dream then his mind was truly gone. Distinguishing between reality and fiction was something he no longer had control over.

This was as real to him as anything.

“Please, Gwen. Please,” he pleaded with her. “Go away. I can’t do this again. Please. You have to let me go."

She tutted her tongue in annoyance and shook her head with disbelief, “Oh, Peter. I have to let you go? Do you think I want to be here?” She became climbing up the gears and the scaffolding towards him. She looked more like himself as she climbed, enhanced and spider-like, taking the movements straight out his brain until she was perching on the ledge beside him. “Do you think this fun for me?”

Peter whimpered in response. His tears were blurring his vision but he was afraid to wipe them away. He was terrified of what might happen if he took his eyes off of her, like watching a snake in the grass, it's better if you can see it in your sights instead of letting it hide and able to strike.

Gwen walked with slow, purposeful steps towards him until she stood directly over him as he cowered backwards on all fours. Under the pale moonlight hanging above them, her skin turned yellow, painted with purpling hues and blacks, and rotting away around her cheekbones to show parts of red, bleeding muscle under the pulled back skin. Her, once vibrant, blonde hair now hung in patchy strands from her head. Most of her hair had fallen out leaving her balding and sickly. When she smiled, browning, broken teeth shone back at him, they hung lose in her jaw, rattling around when she spoke.

She was a walking, decaying corpse sent to haunt him every time he closed his eyes.

“Look at what you’ve done to me!” Her shrill voice echoed off the glass walls. She spun around to show him the back of her head. Her skull was caved in. Parts of brain matter clung to her hair and blood stained what was left of the blonde a deep red. She turned back to face him, leaning in close so she was mere inches away. He could smell the heavy scent of freshly dug dirt and wet grass clinging to her rotting finger nails like she had clawed her way straight out of the ground to find him.

She snarled, “You did this, Peter! This is your fault!”

Peter flinched and scrambled backwards to get away from her, “No! Please, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I didn't know...I didn't know...I thought I could catch you. I thought I could save you. I'm sorry. Please, Gwen. Please. I'm so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change the fact that I’m dead,” she smirked, eyes darkening, enjoying his torment. She sunk down to her hands and knees to crawl over him, pressing her skeletal body against him, until he was laying flat against the ground with no where else to go.

"Look at me," she whispered into his ear. “I was going to go Oxford. I was going to be a scientist. I was going to change the world. The only way I can change the world now is by letting the worms feast through my flesh until there is nothing left. Something tasty for the bugs. That's all I am now.”

Peter whimpered, turning his head away from her and flinching into himself.

He heard her sniffle like she was about to start crying. He hated hearing her cry.

"Don't you love me anymore, Peter?" She whined. "Don't you care about me? Why did you find someone else? Why did you forget me so quickly? I loved you so much and you left me for the worms. Only they kiss my skin now."

His heart sank and guilt flooded him. Slowly, he turned his head to face her, blinking up at her. For a moment, she looked just like he remembered. Beautiful. Whole. Healthy. Alive.

Peter gave a shuddered, shaky breath, whispering in awe, "Gwen."

She beamed down at him. There were no rotting teeth, no blood, her hair was full and luscious. She was glowing under golden light with happy tears in her eyes like his memory of her on top of the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Kiss me," she whispered against his lips. "Like you used to."

Peter's eyes slipped close. His heart ached.

"I can't," he mumbled back. "I love someone else now. I love her like I loved you. She..."

He needed to get back to her. She needed him. He needed her. He should have never left her tonight. He had to leave.

A wailing growl shot ice through his veins as Gwen let out a shriek of pain as if she had read his mind. She was back to her decaying corpse. The sight terrified him.

"You will not leave me! I won't let you! You're mine, Peter! Mine!"

Peter kicked up his feet to shove her off of him. He scrambled backwards away from the haunting vision.

"I can't, Gwen," he pleaded. "I can't be with you anymore."

He frantically shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, in an attempt to make her disappear. Usually by now, his girlfriend would hear him screaming. She'd be here to block Gwen from his sights. She'd be there to force her away until he was safe.

Tonight, there was no one but him.

"This isn't real," he muttered to himself. "She's not really here. She's dead. She's buried underground. Locked in a coffin. This isn't real. When I open my eyes, she'll be gone."

He peaked an eye open. A sense of relief washed over him. He was alone in the clock tower. There was no one here but him.

He could still go home. He could still make it back to her before she woke up and rid her bed side of those letters.

She would never have to know.

Peter took a deep breath, half way through exhaling it when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Gwen's decomposing face poked into his peripheral vision as she whispered menacingly in his ear, "Boo."

He screamed, jumping away, to the sound of her taunting laughter.

"I'm still here, Peter!" She cackled. "You can't get rid of me that easily! I am always going to be here. I am always going to follow you. I will never let you go." Her voice softened. Almost sweet. Sad. Longing. "Because I'm your path, Peter. I am always going to be your path. Follow me everywhere just like you promised. I want you to follow me. I need you..."

She reached out her hand for him to take. The skin had rotted away around the tips of her fingers leaving nothing by bones reaching for him.

This wasn't his Gwen. His Gwen was dead. She was buried in the ground surrounded by fresh flowers. The thing in front of him was nothing but a product of his own twisted mind. Birthed from his guilt and excruciating pain. A monster of his own creation.

"I can't," he choked out through his tears. "Someone else needs me now. I'm sorry. I love you. I will always love you. But I can't follow you. Not yet."

Anger flashed over her darkened, bloodshot eyes, “No! You promised you’d follow me anywhere. Follow me to the grave, you liar!”

Peter cringed at her harsh words. Tears blurring his vision. He had promised.

"Gwen, please," he begged. "Let me go."

Her face softened. He watched her grow back into old self again. Her rich purple dress. Lace tights. Knee high boots. Pale blue jacket. All highlighting her perfectly beautiful face. Large, bright green eyes without a blonde hair out of place. Always so put together. Always nothing less than perfection.

"You want me to go?" She asked, turning around slowly for her to take him in. There was no crack in the back of her skull. No blood.

His breath caught in his throat. He tried to reach out for her, to draw her closer against him, but she stepped away. Just out of his reach.

"You want me to go so I'll go." She whispered. "But you'll have to watch. Again and again and again. You'll have to listen to the sound of my skull cracking against the pavement. Hear my spine snap as your web jerks me upwards. Smell my blood pouring from my open, split open head." A trickle of red blood started to leak out her nose as her eyes closed. "Only you can make it all stop. Only you can make me go away. You know exactly how to do it, Peter. All you have to do is follow me. Just like you promised. Follow me and it will all end."

He blinked through his tears, taking a slow step towards her.

"Follow you," he muttered in a trance like state. "I'll follow you anywhere you go. You're my path. I'll write my love for you across the Brooklyn Bridge so everyone in New York can see it."

She smiled, soft and sweet, "Follow me. Don't leave me alone. Stay with me, Peter. Forever."

"Forever..."

Her arms out stretched to her sides and she leaned back, stepping off the ledge and sinking out of sight past the giant gears, hurdling straight towards her death.

"No!" He shouted.

Without thinking, without caring, Peter leapt after her. He had done this move so many times in his nightmares. He had obsessively walked through every single second of her death. Again and again just like she said. He knew it better than he knew himself.

He jumped on instinct. He leapt after her like he always did.

Keeping his promise. Following her down any path she took.

I know you asked how May and Reader would respond to such a thing afterwards but that's like one topic that's just a little too hard for me to write about. I know it's weird that I can talk about Peter throwing himself to his death and I can write about depression and suicidal ideation and self harm and ptsd and guilt and feelings of worthlessness but writing about someone like May (who I relate far too much to my own mother) finding her boy dead is just a hair too much for my heart to take haha. I was originally going to write a scene of his funeral but then I was like nah too much for even me. I can't watch May cry over her dead kid.

I will say that he would be buried next to his parents under the same gravestone which sits besides Ben's. It's a few rows down from Gwen so Peter can always be near her.

I don't even think I actually answered your original ask but I got carried away with Peter in the clock tower!

Also May puts matching flowers on both Peter's and Gwen's graves every time she visits. hahahaha i gotta stop writing fuck me

[scoops-aboy86]

what would Steddie be like wine tasting?

Okay okay okay, I am totally tipsy wine tasting myself and I love getting asks I LOVE GETTING ASKS

So imma try and answer this all in one go. 

Steve has been around wine his whole life via his parents and knows all about wine tasting

He learned to walk in a tasting room and as a child viewed them as the best place to get free saltines or crunch bread sticks.

So he deffo has a wine snob side even though his actual wine knowledge is fairly superficial 

He is okay at food pairings but mostly because he remembers to ask in tasting rooms and then remembers the answers, rather than being able to rely on his own palate 

Eddie doesn’t know the difference between fine wine and two buck chuck, he would drink either out of a jam jar with ice on a hot summer’s day, it makes Steve threaten to weep sometimes

Mostly Eddie is there for the snacks, boy can power his way through a charcuterie board or two like nobody’s business, he doesn’t really get wine but he is a garbage disposal during these outings he will consume anything you give him

He tries to keep pouring himself water, and he is pretty good about it but sometimes he loses track 

They keep having to ask for more charcuterie boards because inevitably he finished off something on the plate (again) before Steve could try some and Steve is a stickler for trying a bite of everything with each pour (even though if pressed he would not be able to tell you the difference beyond “I liked this better than that”

Steve: “I like this one better than that last pour.” Eddie: “I don’t remember the last pour. This tastes a little like apple juice.”

Eddie ends up sunburnt, drunk, and full; he can handle his beer or spirits but there is something about wine that genuinely knocks him on his ass every time

He wants to be present, for Steve, but he’s so tipsy and extra-easily distracted

Eddie: “How many more pours, is this the last one?” Steve: “There’s one more.” Eddie: “Oh Jesus H Christ, I’m going to die.”

He tries to pour himself a glass of water and misses, Steve has to help him

Steve ends up with a tan, because nothing can burn that guy short of literally visiting the sun

Steve is fine to drive, officer (no he really is, his metabolism is crazy and he’s guzzling water as we speak, he is genuinely fine and a very responsible driver)

Eddie can’t feel his face and wants McDonalds

In this moment I am both Steve (re: tasting room upbringing, omg what if his parents are in marketing and/or events in the wine industry) and Eddie (cannot feel my face, need more crackers or maybe a sandwich to soak this up jfc, my partner is like “Just eat more crackers” right now 😂).

[theboarsbride]

"A Court of Thorns and Roses" Reading Update I

Page 101 - 24%

So, some major notes so far:

-I refuse to believe SJM knows how to write poor people. I refuse to believe that Feyre's family has been poor for a decade. How tf can the sisters be so dainty and act so oblivious and bitchy about work for survival after NEARLY 10 YEARS OF ECONOMIC DESTITUTION???????Just their mentalities, how they react to being poor, how they treat their belongings, how they treat their food, how they handle their money, etc. doesn't really line up.

-I can't stand SJM's writing style. SO MANY MF EM DASHES HOLY FUCK AND THEYRE IN PLACES WHERE THEY'RE UNNECESSARY. And also she reuses the same sentence structure, and it bothers meeeeee. (ex.- i was going to the bathroom, which was white and clean and shining. Then, I went to school, a place that was dull and bland and boring.) Like jfc. I wholeheartedly believe the conspiracy that no one actually edits SJM's book because good LORD.

- Feyre is dumb and deserves death. Like the instance with the Pooka. She suddenly sees her crippled father on Tamlin's land in Prythian in the middle of the night??? Given the wary hostility and aggression and distrust she's been displaying towards everyone and everything so far in Prythian, why isn't she doing the same in this instance???? She's said herself she is wary of faerie tricks, and acknowledged that not even whole, able-bodied humans are able to survive in Prythian without the help of a faerie, so why would she think her DISABLED FATHER, who is helpless in the mortal realm, be any different??? And why would she CARE that her father has come for her??? Did she not hope that her family starves without her, so that they realize she's important to them and she holds them in such an embittered contempt?????

- I LOVE Lucien <3 I like this fox-boy, he is funny and actually treats Feyre like the murderer she is (because yes, she's a murderer, and takes PRIDE in having killed a faerie. Which Feyre has some nerve being hostile to faeries who have been nothing but courteous and gracious with her, and thinking THEY are in the wrong when she was the one that MURDERED their friend).

- why couldn't Tamlin remain more like his beast form, making this more of a BATB retelling? I literally imagine him looking like Legolas but JACKED. This is where my ire of 'BATB but the beast is just a hot guy that growls or has behavioral problems' first began. It's such a shallow version of the story and completely misses the point. And the fact that this is also a retelling of The Ballad of Tam-Lin, a Scottish folktale, and does really nothing that's an homage to the story aside from Tamlin's name, the fact he shape-shifts (albeit BARELY), and there's (poorly written) fae really irks me.

-for once I want SJM to actually describe paintings rather than describing what the painting is of. I don't believe for one minute that SJM did more research into art, style, etc. because for the life of me I couldn't tell you what Feyre's art style is, nor do I really care because her having painting as a hobby is so pointless and has no effect on her character whatsoever.

- SJM is lazy as fuck with her world building. ex.- Lucien saying capital 'h' Hell, as in Christian Hell, when humans are agnostic/atheist with a sparse number of fae-worshiping cults (and were once implied to have had a polytheistic religion) and fae worship the Cauldron and other faerie deities so like.....why not use a few extra braincells to create her own version of Hell rather than using lazy cultural shorthand that, by the logic of this book's world, doesn't work????; underutilizing fae lore so now they're either underdeveloped spectral entities or LOTR elves... BORINGGGG!! GIVE US ACTUAL FAE IN LITERATURE AGAIN!!!! (*applauds Heather Fawcett's Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Faeries and Krystal Sutherland's House of Hollow*)

These are my major thoughts for the first quarter of the book.... See y'all again at 50%!

[emilykaldwen]

Fanfic ask game: 17, 19, 37!

Thanks oh so much!!

Fic Writer Ask Game

17. what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

They're simple, but they live rent free in my head. Both from Alicent's first POV of Maiden. Dragons had robbed Alicent of everything. Time stole away kindness. There's a lot of moments I'm obsessed with in my story, a lot of things that I'm proud of, but these are two lines that I think fully embody what I'm writing and I do very much love them.

Honorable mention goes to this passage from Boy With a Broken Soul (Heart With a Gaping Hole) Aegon remembers the first time he had shown his mother his human form, yearning to banish the perpetual tears from her eyes, for her to grace him with attention and a smile rather than the cold, disapproving look she so often sent his way when she could bear to look at him. Her hands had trembled when she’d taken his face in her hands. In this twisted, unusual shape, he was barely taller than she was, his face as soft as hers, large eyes and pouting mouth all mimicry except for the pink lilac of his gaze. See? He’d told her, twisting his mouth into an attempt at a grin, laughter ringing out. We match now. Tears had filled her eyes, happy tears, he was sure, and she whispered harsh and soft all the same. It appears we do.

19. what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

So every time I take one of those 'whose your writing style most like' I always come up with Douglas Adams (who wrote The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy) which was never a favorite book of mine but it's definitely written in a style that I love and appreciate and so perhaps there's a kindred spirit there. I know as I've gotten older and explored the tropes and stories that I try write, I've found that novels like Jane Eyre and The Secret Garden have definitely influenced the things I like.

37. when creating characters, what comes first: appearance, backstory, motivation, personality, something else?

Oooh this is a good one. For me, it's definitely mmmm I would say it's a combo of motivation and backstory - and that has to tie in with a general idea. I cannot, for the life of me, create a character to "ship" first. (Abby, for example, was not created for Aegon even though now she's grown into Aegon-Only Attachment). The character has to come first, they have to tell me where they fit and live in the world, what are they contributing, what is their story about. For me, this lends itself into a far more well rounded character who does not revolve around who (if anyone) they get shipped with. Every character, for me, must 100% stand on their own two feet, and have compelling arcs and stories that do not revolve around other people. So with Abby, I knew I wanted to try create a character who embodied kindness and balance in kindness and boundaries (I guess you can say recovering people pleaser?) because it was a concept I've always wanted to write and I saw a way for that to happen. So for Abby, her personality and motivation came first, and her backstory naturally expanded from there to show why she was the way she was. And that isn't to say my way is the Right And Only Way To Do A Thing, because it's soooo not! But these are things I've discovered over the past twenty twenty-five years (jfc where has the time gone) that I've been writing/beta reading.

[fandom-hoarder]

Walker 4x12 Reaction

I am starting it now!! Forgot about geri saying "boy listening " god

PLEASE, YOU'RE A MEDIC, SAVE HIM O_O

Goddamn the bark flying with those gunshots

OH MY GODDDDD LARRY

Jfc if they shot trey i was gonna lose it. Thank fuck

CORDELL'S RED RIMMED EYES AND BRUISED FACE 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Stella's hair looks so dark red in this hospital scene

When he started talking about his dream, it was soooo dorothy waking up back in kansas 👀👀👀

A MINUTE WITH MY DAUGHTER💗💗💗

Lmao abby bear-hugging larry, for real though (oh, is that why she’s Abby bear??)

Ughhh fucking captionsss, turn ONNNN

StellaCordi sceeeeene 👀👀👀👀👀

Cordi tearing up 🥺🥺🥺🥺

BABYGIRL

Yeah cordi you are so hypocritical on this lmfao. She IS your daughter

"I only did what you would've done."

"Stella, I'm a ranger"

DUDE, YOU WENT AGAINST PROTOCOL ALSO LMFAO what??

Not a little girl anymore

*hand clasp *

Ugh Geri already pissing me off lol

Lol cordi's annoyed "good morning"

Booyyy don't act like you're not suspicious

"Doctors cleared me for work" ...lol again with the doctor's note

She should've anticipated this by now, though! Like, her tone about this rubs me wrong.

Not expecting him to want to talk to the guy that tried to kill him?? CORDI?? girl you can be upset, but you're just sounding stupid rn

Yeah, you've hardly even spoken. But ma'am. You WERE distracted with your shit. And not that you can't have your shit, and not that his lying and going off on his own was ok, but YOU of ALL PEOPLE should've KNOWN something was wrong. Like, head up ass right now

Omg, not Cordi having a flashback of his dream. "You deserve the best" HES GONNA GUILT HIMSELF INTO MAKING A LIFE FOR GERI, FOR THE SAKE OF HOYT AND EMILY😱😰 i feel like i know exactly how the finale will end now and I'm kinda :/ about it but what can ya do (write fic)

She's right about making big decisions fresh after trauma. Like for real. Curttail that fucking marriage proposal

"So, tonight, after dinner. Yeah?"

"We’ll see." Hooooo girl. I know you won't but you could also run. 👀

Cassie 🥺🥺🥺

I like this song, damn

Listening to his message 😭😭😭😭

😭😭😭

I KNEW SHE'D SAY IT (i love you) BUT GODDAMN i kinda love the voicemail aspect 👀👀 so real, so romantic

Ok... so Geri was so upset about Cordi going back, but larry seems chill about it rn so... that was more about cordi lying than going to work. Girl, then actually come to him first. It felt like she was lying in wait to see what he'd do, instead of just starting the conversation.

Girl, you run too. You could run now, yknow.

I honestly can't remember if they've had this guy on their suspect list before now

Ooh Cordell's angry face looking at the pic! His nose going red.😳

Is this guy saying things to TRY to trigger Cordi's memory??? 👀👀👀

THE FEMALE VOICE

It's her!!

AUGUST'S BOOTCAMP GRADUATION

Omfg

Calling Cordell a "scumbag parent" for missing August's grad?? Like, it ain't good, but that's a stretch actually. Scumbag?? Puh-lease🙄🙄🙄

I love how jared falls into his memory, trailing off

CORDI, HAVE THE DAUGHTER SAY STUFF

CASSIE!

I mean i get it but DAMN. GIRL. IT IS THE SERIAL KILLER'S FAULT

They won't have enough time left in the season to have cordi go through a proper guilt spiral, but I'm stuffing this in the fic fodder, too

Having some trey bruise appreciation 👌👌

Look at abby and bonham, having a reasonable conversation

Goddd finally they are getting to the accomplice

Y'all a LOT more serial killers than that have had a partner. Not a TON, but way more than the dc snipers

Oh thank fuck they figured out the daughter. Jfc

(Fucking iphone commercial with the hugeass fish is so annoying lol. I just keep thinking about how the fish moves in a mechanical way, not the way a fish would be fighting. And there's no way this guy would be able to lift his hand off it to tap his fingers to take a pic. So then I'm like, well this is a stupid example of this phone's ability. It wouldn't even work.)

Ohhh hohoho "you and your daughter may be more alike than you realize" 👀👀👀👀👀👀 those parallels

She's gonna die, and cordell is gonna quit the rangers and work at the side step

To save stella (and give geri a life blah blah)

Yknow, it's interesting that cassie gets mad about cordell going off alone, when she's like that too. I mean, that's how she and cordell met in the first place. Everything full circle

😯😯😯😯😯😯😯😯😯😯😯😯😯

She's gonna push herrr

👁👁👁👁👁

Trey is RIGHT THERE lol

Omg she actually pulled her up??

The sweat on her forehead 😳😳 nice shot

I fully expected her to take both her hands and "lose her grip" lol

Goddd cassie at the press conference 🥺🥺🥺 having to stand there not crying

Luna's picture 🥺🥺🥺🥺

So pretty and distinguished

Geri coming home to cassie. 👀👀👀 i pause every time i type lol so i have no idea what she's gonna say but I'm just over here like... y'all can comfort each other over lost loves you never confessed to. And maybe fuck about it

BUT TELL ME WHY GERI SOUNDS SO BORED WHEN SHE SAYS "it feels like your world's been turned upside down and inside out"

Geri again with "don't make any life altering decisions right now" yes i agree. Can we all stick to that please? If cordell proposes to you, can you please say no? Lololol

I mean like, she IS speaking from experience lol. She sold the sidestep and ran

she is just a very weak actor imo. It's frustrating

AND IT ENDED WITH TOUCHING AND HUGGING. AM I SUDDENLY A GERI/CASSIE TRUTHER????

LISTEN, WHEN MEN BREAK YOUR HEART (by dying or whatever) IT'S HEALTHY TO BE LESBIAN ABOUT IT. OKAY??? 👀👀👀

AAAH STELLA AND AUGIE ASLEEP ON THE COUCH

I AM THINKING THOTS!!

AND CORDI TAKES THE SEAT BY STELLA

I love themmmmm godddd

Goddd please let cordi talk it out with stella before geri lol. For ME

OMG HE WAS STROKING HER ARM AS THE SCENE ENDED. JARED, ARE YOU ON MY TUMBLR????😱😱😱

Lol rewatching now 😂😂

I really do wish we'd gotten a micki cameo on this

The stellacordi is a blatant parallel to the serial killers and i am like 👀👀👀👀 those two were a pair since she was a kid. Hmmmm

I'm so sad next week is the end. I'm biting my fingers over what the ending will be. Someone is gonna quit the rangers it feels like, and it feels like it'll be cordi

But omg, the way cassie looks at cordi in the opening scene, so shocked and bitter that he's alive and luna is dead

(ashley has to make up for what odette lacks in acting lmfao im so sorry)

I don't want him to quit for geri but rn it feels like we're heading that way

If they'd gotten a s5, they could do that and then bring him back lol. Or have geri leave to okc and then come back. I feel like i know where we're heading, but who knows

My brain can't not think as a writer, and put it into the perspective of serial storytelling

Stella's freckles in this episode are so cute

Cordell's "do as i say not as i do" attitude is so funny. He did not immediately learn his lesson

(A dawn commercial for professional dawn, talking about needing to do double duty cuz you're shortstaffed. Why are we putting predatory capitalism into our commercials? You're shortstaffed because it sucks to work there)

I love how roughed up and dirty Cordell's truck is

Geri is so annoyinggggg. I know my bitterness about her colors this but i cannot get over how much she treats cordell like she's his babysitter

The way she says "riiight. /the jackal/" doesn't sound like she's stressing the danger of him. It sounds like she's mocking the idea of him

Like "ooh what a scary name. Definitely what you should spend time on🙄"

Am i crazy?

Like they try to save it with "who tried to murder you" but the first half of that overshadows the paltry concern at the end

She just don't want him being a ranger

It doesn't feel like the relationship is for him. It's for OTHER PEOPLE

Cordell is a people pleaser

Even though he's absentee a lot, his decisions are often about other people and not himself personally

Sam aspect in his Dean personality

I don't want to nitpick about the "waived his right to counsel, which means he's willing to talk" because every cop show does it, but it always feels a little off kilter when they use a procedural cop show trope in this, a family drama. 😅

Like ughh. Don't like that actually. I know this guy is a serial killer, but he should have a lawyer

Cordell doesn't think about how his absence also has an effect

It's very John, actually. Trying to complete his mission to make sure his family is safe, meanwhile time passes like water through your fingers

Geri: Cordi, we need to talk. You LIED to me.

Also Geri: well I don't want to make this a whole thing, we can't have this conversation right now

Girl why did you ruin his day, actually😂😂😂😂

WAIT, is that Luna's bracelet cassie put on?? 👀👀👀👀👀👀 [bestie supplied: hair tie]

Cassie sitting on the bed with Luna's shirt vs Sam sitting on Dean's bed mourning with Miracle 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁

(The voicemail kills me cuz when my bff's mom died, she kept paying her phone service for YEARS so she could hear her voice)

😭😭😭

Cassie puts his shirt in vacuum wrap to preserve his scent, but the longer it's in there the more it just smells like plastic 👀👀👀

Cassie holding the hair tie now🥺🥺

Is it bad that i keep seeing cody Rhodes in the jackal's face? 😅😅😅 like the jaw isn't as square but i can't stop seeing it

We don't really get a backstory for why they started killing parents like this lol. I can't believe we got more backstory in Stella's thing with joanna😅🙃

"I do get where you were coming from...with that damn boat" lol but he still spent a ton of money without talking about it, knowing she will need money for their business. Like I'm glad they talked and shit, but still

Hahh the first time, I missed larry saying "i will bring your daughter in, safely" hahhhh puts an even bigger stake on Cassie's decision, storywise

Goddd i hope we get a cassie and ben scene in the finale

Cassie's eyes, swollen with tears 🥺👌

Aaaaand fade to black for sapphic petting.👀

I'm gonna rewatch the final Stella/Cordi scene a billion times now.💝

[buggreawlthys]

'I will not say farewell, my lord,' said Pippin.

- almost word-for-word echo of sam's song in the tower. brb crying over hobbits again.

Now silently the host of Rohan moved forward into the field of Gondor, pouring in slowly but steadily, like the rising tide through breaches in a dike that men have thought secure.

- this is the point where i started vibrating too quickly for the human eye to perceive

And straightway all the horns in the host were lifted up in music, and the blowing of the horns of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the mountains.

- there is not enough "fuck yeah" in this world and middle earth combined

And never in after years could he hear a horn blown in the distance without tears starting in his eyes.

- you & me both mate

Denethor started as one waking from a trance, and the flame died in his eyes, and he wept; and he said: 'Do not take my son from me! He calls for me.' ... Denethor followed him, and stood trembling, looking with longing on the face of his son.

- on the one hand, genuinely sympathetic. on the other hand, all this parental affection would've been a bit more useful before you Sent Him To His Death, Arsehole

'Go then and labour in healing! Go forth and fight! Vanity.'

- this isn't even "pot calling the kettle black", it's just straight-up hypocrisy.

Yet one stood there still: Dernhelm the young, faithful beyond fear; and he wept, for he had loved his lord as a father.

- ... so we're still playing this game, jirt? even now? really? *sigh* ok, fine. """dernhelm""" loved """his""" lord, got it

'Do what you will; but I will hinder it, if I may.'

- one of, if not the, all-time "fuck around & find out"s

'And I would send word to Éowyn. She, she would not have me leave her, and now I shall not see her again, dearer than daughter.'

- how many times will the sheer & shining amount of LOVE in this stories rip my heart into confetti???

'Are you going to bury me?' said Merry.

- 🥺🥺🥺

...and out of Far Harad black men like half-trolls with white eyes and red tongues.

- jfc. for every "fair for its day" moment there's one of these, whether it's enemies on the battlefield or allies like ghan-buri-ghan. repugnant actually.

'Thus we meet again, though all the hosts of Mordor lay between us,' said Aragorn. 'Did I not say so at the Hornburg?'

- yeah yeah smartarse, no-one likes an "i told you so"

...red fell the dew in Rammas Echor.

- sad but also metal af

'I have been too busy with this and that to heed all the crying and shouting,' she answered.

- Ioreth my giiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrl so good to see you sis love your life love your choices

'Not a beggar,' said Aragorn. 'Say a captain of the Rangers, who are unused to cities and houses of stone.'

- *snort*

...said Aragorn. 'One thing also is short, time for speech.'

- TAKE A FUCKEN HINT BABES (not that it does any good. ioreth will not be contained)

'My friend,' said Gandalf, 'you had horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields; but she, born in the body of a maid, had a spirit and courage at least the match of yours. Yet she was doomed to wait upon an old man...'

- gandalf pointing out the mûmakil in the room: bigotry

'Master Meriadoc,' said Aragorn, 'if you think that I have passed through the mountains and yhe realm of Gondor with fire and sword to bring herbs to a careless soldier who throws away his gear, you are mistaken. ...he will leave you to reflect on the history of tongues. And so now must I.'

- i am howling

For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach. His song in the Tower had been defiance rather than hope; for then he was thinking of himself. Now, for a moment, his own fate, and even his master's, ceased to trouble him. He crawled back into the brambles and laid himself by Frodo's side, and putting away all fear he cast himself into a deep untroubled sleep.

- everyone say thank you to the nice star for letting sam get some decent bloody rest for a change (grumbles about hobbits with no self-care practice)

[mlobsters]

supernatural s5e16 dark side of the moon (w. andrew dabb, daniel loflin)

not knockin' on heaven's door 😥 this song breaks my heart already from how they used it in this scene:

s2e13 houses of the holy

SAM I don't know, Dean, I just, uh ... I wanted to believe ... so badly, ah ... It's so damn hard to do this, what we do. You're all alone, you know? And ... there's so much evil out there in the world, Dean, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up ... DEAN Yeah, well, don't worry about that. All right? I'm watching out for you. SAM Yeah, I know you are. But you're just one person, Dean. And I needed to think that there was something else, watching too, you know? Some higher power. Some greater good. And that maybe ... DEAN Maybe what? SAM Maybe I could be saved.

there's a reason i've only read a couple post-series set in heaven fics. emotional damage.

like jabbing every emotional soft spot i have with a stick

DEAN It’s okay, Mom. Dad still loves you. I love you, too. I’ll never leave you.

MARY You are my little angel. How 'bout some pie? Okay.

DEAN What?

SAM I just never realized how long you’ve been cleaning up Dad’s messes.

jfc dude. so sam's first memory is thanksgiving with some random girl's family, then his second is running away? guess we're poking dean's soft spots with a pointy stick too

DEAN Is this Flagstaff?

SAM Yeah. (He pets Bones.) Hey, boy.

DEAN This is a good memory for you?

SAM Yeah. I mean, I was on my own for two weeks. I lived on Funyuns and Mr. Pibb.

DEAN Wow.

SAM What?

DEAN Well, you don’t remember, do you? You ran away on my watch. I looked everywhere for you. I thought you were dead. And when Dad came home…

SAM Dean, look, I’m sorry. I never thought about it like that.

i didn't think it was possible for an episode to make me cry as much as that djinn episode but hey they did it. good job. what the fuck

DEAN Wait a minute. Wait a minute. This? This is the night you ditched us for Stanford, isn’t it? This is your idea of heaven? Wow. This was one of the worst nights of my life.

okay so. is this a plot point, someone trying to drive a wedge between them or something. because this is fucking awful.

DEAN C’mon! Your heaven is somebody else’s Thanksgiving. Okay. It’s bailing on your family. What do you want me to say?

fucking AWFUL.

latest thing i read in fic first and thought there was no way it was canon. soulmates.

ASH Mm-hmm. Yeah. See you got Winchesterland. Ashland. A whole mess of everybody-else-lands. Put them all together: heaven. Right? At the center of it all? Is the Magic Kingdom. The Garden.

DEAN So everybody gets a little slice of paradise.

ASH Pretty much. A few people share—special cases. What not.

DEAN What do you mean ‘special’?

ASH Aw, you know. Like, uh, soulmates. Anyway. Most people can’t leave their own private Idaho’s.

i missed ash. he was a fun character and his actor did a great job bringing him to life

ASH This ain’t the first time here. I mean, you boys die more than anyone I’ve ever met.

DEAN Really.

ASH Ah, yeah… you don’t remember. God! Angels. Must’ve Windexed your brain.

i'd always wondered about that, all those times they died before, what happened before they were revived.

my pamela. glad to see her too. little wary of the soft sell on saying yes to michael though

DEAN So he’s just going to sit back and watch the world burn?

JOSHUA I know how important this was to you, Dean. I’m sorry.

DEAN Forget it. Just another dead-beat dad with a bunch of excuses, right. I’m used to that. I’ll muddle through.

JOSHUA Except… you don’t know if you can, this time. You can’t kill the Devil, and you’re losing faith, in yourself, your brother, and now this?

a) whenever dean talks shit about dad i'm like DAMN STRAIGHT b) hopeless dean makes a self destructive dean, can we not again, please

great. cas is a hopeless mess too.

SAM We’ll find another way. We can still stop all this, Dean.

DEAN How?

SAM I don’t know, but we’ll find it. You and me, we’ll find it.

that was one thing i did look up in future seasons because i'd seen so much samulet fix-it fic. i always thought he tossed it in some random public trash, but this makes it even easier for sam to just pocket it.

Mama take this badge off of me I can't use it anymore It's getting dark, too dark to see I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door

Mama put my guns in the ground I can't shoot them anymore That long black cloud is comin' down I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door