#and if it's on their dashboard and they don't like it

[wolfydawolfli]

It's YOUR blog! Post what you like. If someone else doesn't like it, they can exit your blog and look somewhere else. Them being annoyed is a problem completely in their own control, there's no good reason it should be your problem too. It isn't a big enough deal to be worth hiding away the things you love over

"if you want to hear about my ocs, my inbox is ope-" NO!! START YAPPING UNPROMPTED!! DO NOT WAIT FOR OTHERS TO TAKE INTEREST, POST THINGS THAT WILL MAKE THEM TAKE INTEREST!!!!

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

COOL FOR THE SUMMER- L. HOWLETT

pairing: older! dads best friend! logan x fem! reader

word count: 3.7k

summary: your dad urges you to come back home for the week he has all his college buddies back, and eagerly you agree because it means you get to see your crush, and your fathers best friend- logan howlett. little does anyone know your goal: to get logan to fall for you as hard as you've fallen for him

warnings: FINGERINGGG!, squirting, heavy praise kink, heavy size kink, innocence kink, daddy kink, manhandling, pet names, age gap (reader is 27, logan is mid/ late 40s), teasing, swearing, drugs and alcohol used, mentions of voyeurism

"i just wanna play with you too/ even if they judge, fuck it, i'll do the time, i just wanna have some fun with you/ got my mind on your body and your body on my mind/ got a taste for the cherry, i just need to take a bite/ don't tell your father, kiss one another-die for each other/ we're cool for the summer"- cool for the summer, demi lovato

It had been years since you had seen Logan Howlett.

And yet, when his eyes met yours- it was like he had never left.

The same gooey, sticky and sappy honey like feeling churned in your stomach when you saw him, making you feel all warm and giddy. You felt like ice cream melting under his heated gaze, just like the soft serve that was dripping down your fingers as you eyed him up from under your little heart shaped sunglasses.

It was hot today, the July heat showing you no mercy.

It had taken countless hours of whining, practically begging someone in the house to go with you to get ice cream.

It was fully packed this week, your dad doing his annual hosting with all his old college buddies- where they’d all drink beer and smoke by the firepit at night, and shoot darts during the day.

He had invited you home for the week too, to hang out with your mom and “keep her company” (whatever that meant), and she had left you for her bed and a bottle of wine.

You didn't blame her.

But it was 3pm, it was so hot you had your head in the freezer.

There was no ice cream to be found, even when you had pleaded with your dad for the keys to the car- and he had insisted there was some already at home.

What a little liar.

After countless pleads and begs, you had finally gotten his closest friend's attention- Logan.

You had always had a schoolgirl-like crush on the older man, it was deemed impossible not to. Everything about him was just so… manly.

Primal and hard edges, with a quick tongue and little tolerance for whining.

But somehow, you managed to play him like a fiddle. He caved, grumbling something about your brat like attitude, practically picking you up by your flimsy skirt and dragging you to his truck.

Now you were here, in the passenger side, sensually licking the dripping vanilla soft serve that trickled down the cone onto your fingers- eyes refusing to leave his body.

You perched your bare feet up on the dashboard, displaying your pink painted toenails skirt hiking up even higher on your thighs.

His grip tightened on the wheel, knuckles flexing as he stared at the road ahead, watching the pine air freshener swing side to side dangling from his mirror.

You knew he wanted you too. But he was too stern to cave into his urges, and you were determined this week to make him snap.

It had been years of this back and forth teasing, little touches and snide comments made whenever you came home to visit and he was around.

You weren't home very often, but when you knew he would show…

“You finally shut up now kid? Stop your whining n’ all that?” he grumbled and you giggled, hand slipping over to fiddle with loose change in his cup holders.

“Yeahhhh… thanks Lo. I really appreciate it. It’s just so hot ya know and I needed to keep my mouth occupied. S’boring.” you teased, licking your lips before taking another large lick of ice cream, savouring the cool, sweet treat on your tongue.

His apples adam bobbed, knuckles practically turning white.

He whipped into your driveway, nearly ramming into the dozens of other vehicles parked along the gravel, slamming on the breaks. It was enough to make you let out a little “oof” as he parked, turning the key in the ignition.

“You’re a spoiled princess. You know that?”

You raised an eyebrow, unbuckling your seatbelt to lean in closer to him, so close you could smell his cigars and sweat.

“Well I’m only home for so long, you know. And besides, I think you like that.”

His eyebrows furrowed, lines of annoyance creased across his forehead as he shook his head- as if he was trying to break free of some sort of trance.

You looked down, noticing a tent in his pants, and couldn't help but smirk before licking your ice cream again.

“Don't start with me kid. It won't end well for ya.” he warned, sticking a finger out to scold you, as if you were nothing more than a stupid child.

Slamming the truck door behind him, you watched from your seat as he stormed off into the house, and bolted to the nearest bathroom in the entry hall. 

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

The first attempt got you somewhere with him.

He got all hot and bothered, refusing to even be in your proximity for the next few hours. It was later in the day, and yet the heat hadn't dwindled.

It was sticky and you were sweaty, groaning into your pillows as you fanned yourself. It was unbearable. The windows cracked open didnt help, and your dad rarely put the AC on.

But you had the perfect idea to break the dry spell.

You smiled mischievously, scampering over to your open window. You had the perfect view of the backyard, where your dad and his friends were lounging around outside, on the porch near the pool.

And there was Logan, with the perfect view of your window- and he was the only one turned towards you, as he cooked something on the grill, a cigar in his mouth- off in his own little world.

Bingo.

Your eyes zoomed in on your target, and as if he felt your gaze, his own flickered up to your window, gaze clashing with yours.

You licked your lips, slowly taking your (already sorta revealing) top off, leaving nothing to the imagination.

His eyes darkened, zoning in on you as if you were his prey, taking a long, sharp inhale of the cigar. He couldn't look away.

You let your hands trace your hardened nipples before fishing out a skimpy bikini from your dresser, tying it up in front of the exposed glass.

He shook his head, eyes fluttering closed as he flipped the food over to keep from burning, trying his best to appear focused on your dads conversation he would oddly be brought into some of the time.

Next was your shorts, then you tugged up the bottoms. Sending him a flirtatious little wave, you trotted down the stairs, snagging a clean, dry towel on your way to the pool.

You were desperate to get cool in the water- and to mainly- get Logan pent up again. It brought you such immense joy knowing his braided rope was uncurling, the pieces becoming thinner and weaker with each innocent smile and remark you sent his way.

Of course, no one else thought anything of it.

You were your dads good girl, charming and sweet and helpful.

But Logan knew. He always knew. He could sniff you out like a hound.

So when you walked out in your tiny little bathing suit, swinging your hips as you walked by him with not much more than a little glance, you knew he was about to lose his shit.

His fingers curled, tightening on the flipper as he looked over and noticed Bucky Barnes eying you up behind your fathers back, as if you were fresh meat.

Something like a growl escaped his lips, unknownst to you as you had already made your way over to the deep end, and dived in. A shirek left your lips as you splashed around in the cool water, basking in the sun as it started to slowly set behind the trees.

You looked over at Logan as he resumed his grilling, taking a slow sip of his beer, watching you as you treading over to the edge, resting your arms on the stone side, looking over at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Lo, could you pass me a beer?” you asked sweetly and he scoffed.

“No way kid.”

“Logan I’m twenty seven, I’m a big girl. Hand one over.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, ignoring your protests.

“Come get one yourself then princess.” he growled through clenched teeth, cigar close to sputtering out.

“That's too much work.”

“Well? You want one?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes right back at him. “Fine. Be like that.”

You paid him no mind as you swam over to the other side of the pool, perched over to give Bucky that same sweet, sickly look that drove him head over heels.

He had a nice view of your ass though, from this angle. He couldn't complain about that, even if you were talking to a man who wasn't him.

“Mr. Barnes? Could you pass me a beer please?” you asked gently, and it wasn't even two seconds later before he was rushing over to hand you one.

“Course sweetheart. Just dont spill in the pool, or your dad will have my head.” You giggled, turning your head over your shoulder to give Logan a wink.

“Thank you Mr. Barnes.”

“Honey, Bucky is just fine. None of that formal shit okay?”

You nodded obediently, coaxing out a Yes Bucky before taking a long swig of the amber liquid.

Bucky leaned back in his seat, trying to re- engage with the conversation, his eyes darting constantly to stare at your figure as you floated, taking small sips of the liquid.

They were then met with Logan's heavy gaze, pupils so blown out and black he was lucky the BBQ wasn't thrown at his head at this very moment. 

------------------------------------------------ You nodded your head along with the old dad rock as you took a puff of your joint, letting the warm, fuzzy feelings cloud your judgements as you sunk deeper into the lawn chair, watching the flames from the bonfire grow higher as your father tended to it.

You knew he wasn't pleased with you smoking- but what the hell was he going to do about it? You were an adult. It's not like he could tell you you weren't allowed, anyways.

You felt Logans gaze from across the fire, the flames licking his pupils as he stared you down, while you were blissfully in your own world.

Your little sundress had his eyes wandering places they shouldn't have, and it didn't help that when the sun went down, the slight chill had found its home on your breasts, hardened nipples poking out of the soft fabric.

The more hits you took, the looser you felt, and before you knew it- you were dancing and spinning around to

“I Was Made for Lovin You” by Kiss after you had begged them to put it on- joint dangling out of your mouth.

Logan couldn't help but chuckle as you spun and clapped each time the drums hit- giggling to yourself as you watched him carelessly.

“Does anyone want another drink? I’m gonna go n get one.” you slurred slightly, resting your hands on the back of Bucky's chair as you tallied the requests.

Time was blurring back and forth, so whoever hadn’t  requested one was getting one anyways. You stared off into the distance with a dazed look on your face, coming back to reality when Bucky had turned, placing his hand on yours.

“Hon? You all good?”

“On clouds. I’ll be back. Bye!” you waved, giggling uncontrollably as you skipped back to the house.

You weren't expecting company, not hearing Logans muttering about going with you to keep you out of trouble to the group, eliciting chuckles from his friends.

Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes as he jogged to catch up to you, slipping into the kitchen right after you. You were giggling to yourself about god knows what as he entered, your red, heavy eyes sliding up to meet him from where he stood.

You were bent over the counter, rocking your feet up and down, swaying yourself- no intention of grabbing any beer.

“Hi Lo.”

His eyebrows raised with amusement.

“Whatcha doin here?”

“Keeping you out of trouble. Someones a lightweight, if I’ve ever seen one.”

You rolled your eyes. “Am not.”

“Don't deny it. It's cute.” He bit his lip as he looked you up and down, eyes lingering on the swish of the flowy fabric against your soft, plush thighs, and your breasts that were taunting him.

“M’supposed to get beers. But I don't know who for.” you sighed, turning around to face him.

You were so innocent, so adorable it made his heart shatter into a million itty bitty pieces, and his dick hard as a rock.

“Is that so?”

“Mmm. I think Steve wanted one.” you nodded to yourself, feet padding on the hardwood as you walked over to a cupboard, opening in and frowning in confusion.

“Kay I don't see any beers.”

Logan couldn't help but laugh, walking up behind you to place his large hands on your hips, guiding you over to the fridge.

“Don't laugh at me!”

“M’not laughing honey. Just giving my princess some help, yeah?” The word my slipped out faster then he could catch it, and he was thankful you didn't.

He’d never hear the end of it.

You opened the fridge and let out a squeal as he picked you up with ease, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, letting you scout out the whole fridge- grabbing the cold beers on the top shelf.

“Steve, n Bucky, n Logan… who else?” you murmured, wrapping your arms around the bottles to try and carry them all.

“That's all honey. Good job.” he cooed, placing you back down on the ground, shutting the fridge doors behind you as you set the bottles down on the counter, before perching yourself up onto the granite.

You swung your legs, parting them slightly as you watched Logan watch you.

Intensely.

You bit your lip, feeling your panties dampen even more than they already were- which was saying a lot.

You had rubbed and squeezed your thighs together so much because of the older man in front of you, and you weren't even ashamed. Anyone would, in your position.

“What are you thinking about Lo?” you asked, nickname rolling sweetly off the tongue.

You were the only one who called him that. You were the only one who was allowed to call him that.

“Nothin you need to worry your sweet lil head about honey.”

You bit your lip, batting your eyelashes up at him as he dared to inch even closer. The gap was slowly closing between you two.

You smiled softly, spreading your legs, your dress draped over your thighs so he had a clear view of the wet patch on your lacey pink panties.

He audibly growled, clenching his knuckles at his sides so hard they turned bright white as he let out a breath.

“I’ve been really wet for you all day Lo. And I really need your help.”

He took a deep breath. Shut his eyes. He could not do this.

It broke every rule in the moral code book. Seeing and thinking of his best friends daughter like this- what the fuck was he thinking?

But he was in too deep now. He didn't think he could part from you, from that little wet patch.

He could smell you. Practically hear your little clit throbbing.

“You always need my help. Don't think you could do anything yourself- even if you tried princess.”

You cocked your head innocently, slipping your fingers down to your inner thighs.

“I did do things by myself- all by myself. I touched myself to the thought of you filling me up and keeping me full of your cum n…” you broke off, giggling like a schoolgirl.

“And I just couldn't do it as well as you could Lo. You’re so big n strong, and your hands are so much bigger than mine, I’m sure they’d feel amazing.”

“Fuck. FUCK baby you cant-” he panted, slamming his fist down on the countertop.

You didn't even flinch.

“You can't say that shit. I can't- fuck- your my best friends daughter for fucks sake. Fuck.” he swore, and yet he was even closer to you.

Filling the gap between your parted legs, breath mingling with yours.

“And you’re high and just-”

“M’not super high. Just really fuzzy.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure. It's so wrong baby, but fuck I can't stop thinking about you. About this tight lil body I could just use and fuck the shit out of.” he groaned, head falling as he took another deep breath, restraining himself.

His words made your clit pulse even harder, and you were desperate for release.

“It's okay Lo. I won't tell anyone. Pinky promise.” your fingers reached out to fiddle with his dog tags as he lifted his head, hungry eyes staring at your lips.

He licked his own.

“I’m just- jus hurts really bad and I need some help. Please. Please, please I’ll be so good, not a word. Just a little touch, anything- please Lo.” you begged, puppy dog eyes staring up at him.

And how could he deny you? You just begged so pretty, your bright little eyes wide and hazy with admiration as you looked at him, making him feel like the most handsome, wanted man in the world.

He was caving, and caving until he caved.

His lips crashed down onto yours, full of want and need, the sweetness of your lipgloss giving him the balance he needed to fuel his fire.

His hands harshly gripped your inner thighs, holding them open as you whined and moaned into his mouth, trying to wiggle from overstimulation. He kissed you until your lips were swollen, gloss smeared as he peppered kisses down your neck, digging his fingers even deeper into your flesh, hard enough to mark.

“Lo-”

“Yeah, you need my help baby? You gonna let daddy take care of you now? Such a big girl, tryin do everything on her own- but she just needs daddy to do everything for her, doesn't she?”

You nodded dumbly, going into a trance like state as he cooed down at you mockingly.

“Fuckin driving you around all day, watching you in that skimpy lil bikini… now you just want some touches to your pretty lil princess parts, don't you baby? You're such a greedy girl.”

You whimpered at his words, feeling his large fingers trace your inner thighs, teasing you as he inched closer to your cunt.

A moan escaped you, your head lolling back against the cupboard as the pad of his thumb brushed the wet patch on your undies.

“Please, please daddy I’ll be so good. Jus please.”

“Awh baby, you sound so pretty when you beg. You're such a fast learner, aren't you? Such a bright girl, but youre going all dumb now hmm? Gonna let daddy touch you all nice n sweet?”

You nodded frantically as he pressed his thumb down on your clenching hole, the fabric getting sucked in as he pressed.

Finally he pushed your thong to the side, air hissing through his clenched teeth as he saw just how wet you were for him.

You were practically dripping right on the counter. Your juices glistened in the pale kitchen light, and you gripped his wrist as his finger brushed through your folds before entering you, curling inside.

“Feel so good-”

He chuckled darkly, watching your little reactions as he worked his finger before adding another one, stretching you out.

Fuck you were tight.

He wondered how you'd fit his cock. He watched every little move, when you gripped his wrist harder, when your little pants and moans slipped out of your pretty parted lips.

“S’big.”

“Sweet girl, am I touching all those parts you couldn't reach yourself? Feels good?”

“S’good.” You were already cockdrunk and he hadn't even put his cock in you yet. Drool was practically pooling out the sides of your mouth as your eyes rolled back in your head as his coos and praises.

“Don't have very long angel, the guys are gonna wonder where we’ve been.”

You nodded, gasping as his thumb came up to rub gentle circles on your clit, making you quiver and shake.

“And we don't want that, now do we? Daddys friends all seeing you perched up on the counter for me, spreading your legs like the sweet lil girl you are.”

The idea of you guys getting caught somehow brought you even closer to your release, as his fingers quickend their pace. The wet sounds of squechling brought heta to your cheeks, and fuck he loved it.

He loved how flustered you got, under his thumb- how you completely gave yourself over to him, so he could take care of you.

“Daddy I’m gonna-”

“Go ahead baby. I’m right here, I gotcha sweet thing.” he cooed, and that was it for you.

You weren't sure if it was the weed or simply Logan Howlett finally appearing where you wanted him most, between your legs- but your release came hard and fast, knocking the wind out of you as your juices squirted all over his hairy arm, some drips landing on his white tank top.

His eyes widened in surprise, a moan leaving his lips at the sight of you, making a mess all over his fingers.

He was aching in his pants, cock leaking with precum- but he knew he couldnt fuck you now. Not now, not here, and not when you were this dazed.

Instead, he planted a kiss and a praise to your forehead, grabbing a rag to clean you up with, leading you upstairs to your room. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light, body still shaking slightly in your sleep.

He smiled to himself softly, enjoying this quiet moment of peace as he watched you- so vulnerable and at peace yourself in your bed. Draping a blanket over you, he kissed your forehead again, not once but twice as a promise, brushing the strand of hair that fell over your face back behind your ear.

Knowing the boys would be wondering where the hell he had been, where you had been- he rushed to the bathroom, relieving himself as quick as possible before grabbing the beers and rushing back outside, lying outright through his teeth.

But for you, it was worth it.

[flirtygh0ul]

I used to be pretty anti-tzr. but now i seriously don't mind it since its not that deep and honestly people just want to be noticed and validated and stuff. WHAT DOES bug me is people whining about their dashboard being dead or that they can't make friends or nobody pays attention to them while also simultaneously NOT DOING SHIT to interact with the community. See a tzr/reblog for a post you haven't/have seen ? REBLOG, COMMENT, send the op an ask about anything! Go through your following list or through your likes and follow back. Fucking socialize mother fuckers godDAMN. I'm super agoraphobic but if I see someone talk about something I like, even if it's not sims, I will fucking yap. Also like even if people don't post or if they don't really post sims like they are still people with their own stories and personalities!

[decentwritings]

Chapter 5

Summary: At twenty-six, you never expected your life to look like this: a veteran, a college dropout, now running drugs to cover your late father’s debts. The military took you away for a brief moment, but now you're back in your hometown, keeping family at a distance to keep them safe. Your simple plan to clear the debt, one job at a time, unravels the moment Mabel steps into your life.

previous part <- -> next part

You manage to leave at nine, telling your mom and sister you have an early morning. They buy the lie and let you go, while Devin pesters you with questions about Mabel. He mentions she promised to bake a cake with him, which twists the knife even deeper as you head out the door. The guilt gnaws at you, but you push it down.

When you get home, you want nothing more than to hide under the covers and shut the world out. But you know better. There's no avoiding tonight. You sigh, forcing yourself into action, and head for the closet.

You open it, punch in the code on your safe, and scan your fingerprint. The door clicks open, revealing the gun, an extra magazine, and some cash laid out neatly. You stare at the gun for a moment, a bitter reminder of what you're getting pulled into.

Devin is a curious kid, which is why you had to upgrade to this new safe. You caught him playing with your old one, punching in random numbers for fun. The last thing you needed was for him to accidentally figure out the code, so you got one with a fingerprint scanner to avoid any risks.

You grab the gun, checking the current magazine before tucking the extra one into your pocket. The gun slides into your waistband, but you wince at how uncomfortable it feels. You've been meaning to buy a holster, but never got around to it. After tonight, though, you need to make time. Especially after that threat.

With about an hour left until you need to be there, you decide to walk around and clear your head. But the regret hits when you circle the block, your mind filled with thoughts of Mabel. The memory of her hurt, disappointed face plays over and over, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

As you finish your walk, the weight of the gun against your waistband feels heavier than it did before. No matter how many times you adjust it, the discomfort doesn't go away. The uncomfortable thoughts of Mabel mix with the sharp reality of what you're about to face tonight. You knew this would catch up with you one day, but you never thought it would happen like this—with someone like Mabel getting caught in the crossfire.

You check your phone. Thirty minutes left.

You make your way back to your apartment, mentally running through every scenario you can think of—ways to handle Nick, what to say if he pushes too far. But none of them feel right. You're too distracted. You can't shake the memory of Mabel's face, the way her voice trembled when she asked for her keys.

You shake your head, trying to refocus. Nick's the priority tonight. This isn't the time to let emotions mess with your judgment.

You get into your car and drive towards the meeting point, the streets eerily quiet at this hour. Each red light feels like a countdown ticking in your head. You park a block away from the spot, hands gripping the wheel as you watch the clock on your dashboard.

The lot isn't as empty as you close in on it. There are a few cars littered here and there. There's one specific car that's been here since your first drop with these guys. You think about asking around town for it; the car looks in good condition. You don't know why someone abandoned it here.

Nick hops out of the van with Oliver and Isaac in tow. There's a truck parked next the van and Costa and Tom hop out of it, and you feel a breath of relief come out of your mouth at the sight of the father.

You greet them with a nod then silent follow as they take the lead. Costa walks alongside you, head down, same as you.

"He knows about you and Mabel," Costa's voice is low, eyes focused on the back of Nick's head. You glance at him, giving him a look he understands well. He nods, pursing his lips in a thin line. "Charlie tried to get him to back off but–"

"Broke his hand?" You finish, and he nods. All you can do is shake your head.

"Listen," Costa sighs, waiting to see if Nick is listening. When the man keeps walking, he continues. "Mabel may say she can handle this but...she wants out–she is out. Keep it that way."

You swallow thickly. "I am," you tell him, and by the look on your face; he frowns. He understands and it break his heart. "I don't want her anywhere near this. Or you, man." You add, sending him a pointed glare.

Costa shrugs. "That dive you took, remember?" You nod, furrowing your brows. "That was suppose to be my last. But they needed an extra guy, and with Charlie out–I got pulled in. But this is my last one; no way they're reeling me into another one."

You nod, tucking your hands in your pockets. You were going to make sure of it.

You guys come to a stop towards the end of the lot. Some men stand there with a large container behind them. You crack your neck, hoping to relieve the ache and tension there. Something tells you this is bigger than the last. How these guys are moving big things without getting caught is beyond you. You'll worry about it later.

Nick exchanges some words with one of the men, too quiet for you to hear. You glance at Costa and he shakes his head, silently telling you not to ask. Tom steps forward, a large duffel bag in his hands you hadn't noticed before.

"It's all there," Nick says to one of the men, narrowing his eyes. Another one takes the duffel from Tom, practically snatching it from him then unzips the bag. You catch a glimpse of some stacks of one hundred dollar bills.

You look away, clenching your jaw. A cash exchange for whatever is in that container? This is ridiculous.

"Looks and feels like one mill," the man says, handing the duffel to his boss. You control your expression; one million dollars? That's more than you have ever heard them handle.

"Now, show me yours," Nick orders, crossing his arms.

The shorter one turns and begins to unlock the container. He struggles to open the doors but once he does, the sight of a powdered drugs fills the scene. From floor to ceiling of the container is filled.

Nick glances back, at all of you, a proud smirk on his lips. "Ronny is gonna have a field day," he whistles, tipping an imaginary hat at the drugs. "Alright. Pleasure doing business," he extends his hand towards the taller one and they shake hands before they leave.

Once they're out of sight, Nick turns to Tom with a sharp grin. "Last shipment, crew."

Tom scoffs, arms crossed, his unimpressed expression etched deeply into his face. Then again, that's his natural look. "You said that last time." He spits on the ground, eyes narrowing. "We're only here because Charlie back-talked you. We're done."

Nick's laughter is dry and humorless, cutting through the silence like a blade.

He scratches his chin, his grin fading into something darker. Without a word, he nods at Isaac. The man moves like a well-trained dog, pulling his gun and leveling it at Tom.

The crew tenses as Nick steps closer to Tom, who stiffens but doesn't back down. "I think you're confused," Nick says, his voice low and venomous. He looks over at Costa, flashing him a smile that's too friendly to be anything but a threat. "None of you are done. Not until I say you're done."

Your jaw tightens as Costa shifts beside you. He's done. You can feel it in the way he won't meet your gaze, his shoulders slumping under the weight of Nick's words. Tom's done. Hell, even you're done. But none of that matters to Nick.

You glance at Oliver. His eyes meet yours, pleading silently: Don't. But your inner voice-the one that remembers your father's mistakes—won't stay quiet. Don't let Costa turn out like him.

Your decision comes fast. Too fast. Before you can think, your hand shoots out, grabbing Isaac's wrist. There's a sickening crunch as his fingers bend unnaturally, and the gun slips from his grasp. He yells in pain, stumbling back, but you don't stop. You raise it with certainty, aiming it squarely at Nick.

The shift in the room is instant. Nick's smirk vanishes, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. Around you, the crew freezes, their breath caught in their throats. Even Isaac's groans fade into the background as the blood roars in your ears.

Nick's eyes narrow, flicking to Oliver. The silent command is clear: Do something.

Oliver hesitates, his hand hovering near his holstered weapon. For a moment, he's unreadable. Then you see it—hesitation, uncertainty. It's a crack in the soldier's armor, and it shifts the balance in the room.

"What the hell are you waiting for, Oliver?" Nick snaps, his voice sharp enough to cut. "Do your damn job!"

But Oliver doesn't move. His gaze drops to the floor, fists clenched. It's a small rebellion, but the defiance radiates from him. You catch the flicker of frustration in Nick's expression, and the tension tightens like a noose.

Oliver's fingers twitch toward his weapon. Instinct takes over. You pivot, leveling the gun at him before he can even draw. He freezes, hands slowly rising as his glare burns into you. He's angry–probably humiliated–that you outmaneuvered him. For a soldier with more time in the field, it's a bitter pill to swallow. You're surprised yourself, but there's no time to dwell on it.

Without breaking your aim, you step forward and yank his gun from its holster. The weight is familiar now, your grip steady. You toss it to Tom, who catches it with a quick nod and points it at Nick.

"Now where did a pretty girl like you get the balls do all this?" Nick asks, sarcastic, like he has no gun on him. His arms raise when Tom waves the gun at him, and he glares back.

"The Army, jackass," you retort, clenching your jaw. His eyes flicker to Oliver, who avoids his gaze. He looks pissed, angry that Oliver knew and didn't share this information. "New deal. You leave them out of this; you got me. I was Army, a Ranger...and I have photographic memory." You add, hoping he bites the bait. You can't have Costa in this anymore.

Costa's eyes widen, along with Tom's. Oliver's face changes from anger to impressed.

Nick snarls. "Bullshit," he huffs, glancing at each of them for their reaction.

You raise a brow. "Yeah? I caught one glimpse of your license once, six months ago," you start and he raises a brow, unsure of where you're going. "S51973690. I also know Isaac and Oliver's license number by heart. And every location you've made a deal at. Every face, every plate number that's crossed my path. You think I can't take this all to someone higher and have them hunting you down within the hour?"

Nick's smirk falters, the confidence in his eyes dimming as he weighs your words. The rest of the crew stands frozen, exchanging uneasy glances. Costa's jaw tightens, clearly surprised by your sudden gamble, but he doesn't say a word. Tom's grip tightens on Oliver's gun, keeping it steady on Nick as he watches for any sudden movements.

"You're bluffing," Nick spits, but his voice has lost some of its edge. "You wouldn't anyway. I may go down but two more will take my place. Ronny isn't an idiot. He covers his bases."

You tighten your hold on the gun. You know. That's why you haven't shot him yet.

"So take my offer," you say back, voice firm as your glare. In the corner of your eye, you see Costa's need to argue but you shut him down with a glare. "You leave them out of this, and I'll be your fall guy. It's your choice."

Nick looks at you, his eyes narrowing as he calculates his next move. His fingers twitch, like he wants to call for backup or grab a weapon, but the power has shifted. He knows it, and so do you.

After what feels like an eternity, Nick lets out a frustrated sigh. "Fine," he growls, lowering his hands slowly. "Alright. "

You nod, lowering your gun but keeping your gaze locked on his. "Understood. But if you step out of line, I'll make sure no one comes out clean."

Nick glares at you for a moment longer before signaling for Isaac and Oliver to fall back. You can feel Costa's tension ease beside you, but the air between you all is still thick with distrust. This isn't over, but for now, you've bought them some time.

"We still need someone with a boat–" Nick's eyes flicker to Tom, "to take this shipment."

Tom lowers his gun. "I'll do it." You open your mouth to disagree, but he shakes his head. "Nah, kid, it's just me. No one else will be on that boat but me." He sends a pointed glare to Costa.

Costa lowers his gaze, but you don't miss the frown on his lips. He wants to argue, but he's now selfishly not; for his kid. Finally, you think.

Nick nods then leans to grab Isaac off the ground. The guy grunts as he stands, holding his broken hand close to his chest. He glares at you as they all walk away, sullen and two of the three feeling castrated. As Nick and his crew turn to leave, you glance back at Costa. His face is a mix of relief and concern, but he gives you a slight nod—a silent acknowledgment of what you just did for him.

Tom hands you back Oliver's gun, his eyes filled with questions, but you don't answer any of them. Instead, you tuck it in your waistband and exhale shakily. You may have just stepped deeper into the fire, but at least for now, Costa is safe.

For now, that's all that matters.

\\\\\\

Nick is not one to get revenge. The disrespect he receives, he plans to give back. The same way people say "you get respect when you give respect," is the same way he plans to get back at you.

The plan is simple. Isaac happens to have a piece of technology that can change the traffic lights with the flip of a switch. So, on your way home, you'll end up in a car accident.

Simple and brutal—just the way Nick likes it. The plan would leave no trace back to him, just an unfortunate "accident." A part of him wants to linger behind, so you can see it was him. But he knows you'll get the message. Isaac, always eager to get his hands dirty, agrees without hesitation. There's a sense of thrill in his eyes that sends a chill through anyone who notices.

Oliver being MIA makes things easier for Nick. He knows Oliver wouldn't approve—he's not as cold-blooded. But Isaac? Isaac has no reservations. They don't need Oliver for this. They just need the right moment.

It happens two days later. You're driving home with your nephew in the backseat. He's full of excitement like he always is after a day at the beach. Your sister is in the passenger seat, humming every once in a while to let her son know she's listening.

You're too in your head to focus on what either of them are saying. At this rate, you're just moving by nature. You're used to the drive back to your sister's place after a day at the beach. You can do it with your eyes closed.

As you drive, your nephew's chatter fades into the background, and your sister's humming becomes white noise. Your thoughts circle the events of the last few days, especially Nick's warning glares, and the unease that's been gnawing at you since. You can't shake the feeling that something's off, but you tell yourself it's paranoia.

The intersection ahead is coming up, the same route you've taken countless times. The light turns green, and without hesitation, you begin to drive through.

Then it happens—too fast for you to react.

The flash of headlights to your left, a truck barreling toward you. Your heart jumps to your throat as you slam the brakes, but the truck is moving too fast. The sound of screeching tires and the deafening crash of metal against metal fills the air as the truck slams into the side of your car.

The force sends your vehicle spinning. Glass shatters, your sister screams, and all you can think about is Devin in the backseat. Your hands grip the wheel, trying to regain control, but it's too late. The car skids off the road, coming to a violent halt.

Silence. The world seems to stop for a moment, save for the ringing in your ears and the ragged breaths coming from your chest. You blink, your vision blurry, and then you hear it—your nephew's soft, terrified whimper from the backseat.

Panic floods your body as you struggle to turn around, pain shooting through your side. "Devin," you gasp, your voice hoarse. You see your sister moving, clutching her arm, but she's alive. Devin looks shaken, but unharmed. Relief washes over you.

But as you sit there, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you know—this wasn't an accident. This was Nick.

And as you hear several people around your car asking if you are all okay, you see in the distance the van. The all too familiar van. The windows are tinted but you know he's behind them with a smirk on his lips.

Your teeth grit as you attempt to shove the door open, wanting to chase after him. But you stop the instant you hear your sister stir beside you.

As the sirens get closer, you see the van drive off. You huff out a breath, tired and in pain. You glance up and see a drop of blood roll down your forehead. You look to your sister, guilt rising in your entire system as you see her face with cuts.

Eventually, the ambulance arrives and a paramedic rushes over to help you all out with the help of some firefighters. You urge them to help your nephew and sister out first, and thankfully they listen. But once you're out, adrenaline overcomes you and you feel no more pain.

You decide now isn't the time to face Nick. You ride to the hospital with your sister and nephew, your heart racing as you try to shake off the worry flooding your mind. You watch as the paramedics tend to them, checking for any serious injuries. Devin clutches his mother's hand, wide-eyed but trying to be brave.

"Mom, I'm scared," he whispers, glancing between you and your sister.

"It's okay, buddy. We're going to be just fine," she reassures him, her voice strong despite the pain etched on her face. You feel a surge of protectiveness towards both of them, a fierce determination to keep them safe.

Once inside the ambulance, you sit next to your sister, the paramedic checking your forehead. "Just a small cut, but we'll clean it up," he says, his hands gentle but firm. You nod, barely feeling the sting as he dabs at the blood.

"Where's the driver? Is he okay?" your sister asks, her brow furrowed with concern.

"They're checking him out," the paramedic replies, glancing back at the driver, who is being treated by another team. "You were all very lucky. It could have been much worse."

You don't feel lucky. The image of the van, Nick's smirk, haunts you, reminding you that he's still out there, still a threat. The urge to find him burns in your chest, but right now, you need to focus on your family.

As the ambulance jolts to a stop outside the hospital, you grab your sister's hand. The doors open but you pause to check the surroundings.

Once inside the hospital, the chaos of the emergency room swirls around you. Nurses and doctors bustle about, tending to patients in varying degrees of distress. You're ushered to a waiting area, the bright fluorescent lights harsh against your eyes.

"Devin, I need you to stay close to me," your sister says, her voice steadier now. You watch as she holds onto him tightly, the bond between them a source of strength

As they're taken to a treatment area, you step away for a moment, your heart pounding. You pull out your phone, mind racing with thoughts of how to find Nick. You need to know where he is, how to track him down.

Mabel comes to mind then. He attacked you, got you, your sister and nephew. He can't be after her either. Why would the idiot come after you anyway? You guys made a deal.

As you sit down, staring at the bustling activity around you, you resolve to gather your strength and figure out your next move. Nick thinks he can intimidate you, but he has no idea what you're capable of when it comes to protecting the people you love.

"Hey, are you alright?" a nurse asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You nod, forcing a smile, but inside, you know this isn't over. Not by a long shot.

You stand, grateful for the interruption on your thoughts. "I have to go but my sister and nephew are being treated," you tell her, and she nods to inform you she's listening. "Could you tell her I had to go? I have something to do."

The nurse seems unimpressed, a look of judgement flashes across her face but she's quick to hide it. She nods then walks off in the direction the room your sister is in.

You're rushing out of the hospital, completely missing Mabel's screeching stop as she arrives. You're walking towards your house with determination, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. The weight of what just happened hangs heavy on your chest, but you push it down, focusing on the task ahead. Nick can't be allowed to get away with this.

As you walk, thoughts of Mabel swirl in your mind. The idea of him targeting her ignites a fire within you, fueling your urgency.

The night air is cool against your skin as you approach your house. You glance around, making sure no one is following you. Once inside, you lock the door behind you and immediately head for your room. You need to gather anything you might need—your phone, your knife, your gun, and whatever else you can grab in case you need to make a quick escape.

You sit on your bed for a moment, your heart racing as you pull up Mabel's number. You stare at her number, exhaling a breath as your thumb hovers over the call button. You stop, deciding now isn't the best time to call.

Mabel receives your message as she sits with Devin, his head rested on her shoulder while your sister is getting her wrist splint. With the adrenaline, she hadn't realized it was broken.

I know we aren't talking but...

Are you okay?

Mabel frowns. When she didn't find you in the room with your sister, she assumed you went out to do something stupid. She glances at Devin, who remains sleeping peacefully as if this whole thing didn't just happen.

She's still mad at you. For pushing her away and not fighting for her to stay. But when she heard the news of your crash, she rushed over, her anger disappearing. Here she is now, angry while also worried sick about you.

I'm fine. I'm at the hospital with your sister and nephew. Where are you?

You know where she is. That's all you care about. You lock your phone, choosing not to answer and double check the items you have on you. Once you're done, you head out in search for the bastard.

You don't know where he is but you're going to find out. He's not stupid enough to be at his home but you check there first. You come up empty. So you go to Oliver's place, pounding on his door when you arrive.

You step back, he towers over when he opens the door. He raises a brow and frowns. "You look like shit." He comments.

"Where is he?" You asks, tightening your jaw. He tilts his head in confusion. "Nick. Where is he?" You repeat, voice much harsher than ever.

Oliver's expression shifts from confusion to concern as he takes in your urgency. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since—"

"Since the crash?" you cut him off, frustration boiling over. He's confused again. "He caused an accident, a crash. My sister and nephew were in the car with me." You practically shout.

Oliver's eyes widen. "Is that why you're all fucked up?"

You send him a deadpan glare. "Thanks." You shake your head. "Where is he?"

Oliver shakes his head. He steps back, allowing you to enter his apartment. "Slow down. You need to calm down and think this through. You can't just charge in without a plan."

"Calm down?" you snap, your voice rising. "Did you not hear me? My sister and nephew were in the car! You think I'm going to sit back and wait for him to make his next move?"

Oliver runs a hand through his hair, clearly torn. "Okay, okay. Just give me a second. Let me think." He heads toward his living room, motioning for you to follow.

You huff, watching him search for something. You glance around his living room, eyebrows furrowing. "What were you doing?"

Oliver glances back, looking at you in between his search through some papers. "I wasn't with him," he tells you, returning to what he's doing. "He probably knew I wouldn't help him."

"That's reassuring," you mumble, gripping your side when you feel an ache. You shake it off and exhale a breath.

Oliver pulls a piece of paper out and smiles. "Here." He walks over to you and hands you the paper. "I had to do a run for Ronny, the boss himself. Nick put in a good word for me, the biggest pay day I ever had."

You take the paper, eyeing it. You memorize it then look at him in silent question.

"He should be there. He hides out at Ronny's when he knows he's done something stupid," Oliver tells you. You nod, a grateful look crossing your face. Before you move to leave, he stops you with a stare. "Be careful. I'd go with you but...I told them I'm out. Told them I go back for a tour next week."

You pause, holding his gaze for a moment. "How'd you manage that?" There's a hint of surprise in your voice, but deep down, you're glad to hear it.

Oliver chuckles with a shrug. "I lied." You crack a smile, extending your hand out to him. He takes your hand, gripping it tightly. "But if you need me to stay to help, say the word. I've been wanting to kick his ass for a while now."

You shake your head but you're grateful. "You're done, Cap. Get outta here." You say in your best authoritative voice. He chuckles and releases you, allowing you to leave.

You rush out, trying to figure out the best way to get to this place on foot. You look left then right, before finally coming up with the idea of flagging down a cab. You can't afford to waste time walking, not when every second counts. The streets are still busy enough at this hour, and as luck would have it, a cab pulls up after a few minutes. You hop in, giving the driver the address Oliver gave you.

As the car weaves through the city, you can't stop your mind from racing. You think about your sister, your nephew, and Mabel—everything you've been through and everything you stand to lose if you don't stop Nick. Your hand unconsciously moves to your side, feeling the soreness from the crash.

The cab pulls up a block away from the address, and you pay the driver before stepping out. The area is quiet, too quiet. You can feel the tension in the air, knowing that Nick is nearby, hiding out like the coward he is. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you approach the building. You pull your knife out and grip the handle tightly.

It's an old warehouse, one of those places you wouldn't look twice at. But now, it feels like the center of the storm. You glance around, making sure no one's watching before slipping inside. The place is dimly lit, and you can hear faint voices in the distance. You grip your knife tighter, knowing this could be your only chance to end it.

You move through the shadows, inching closer to the sound of the voices. You spot Nick, laughing with a couple of guys, his back turned to you. The anger bubbles up inside you, but you force yourself to stay calm. You need to wait for the right moment.

But then, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You still, feeling their grip on your shoulder tighten.

"Ahh, the one with the memory, right?" You can smell the smoke on his breath. He allows you turn to face him and he smiles, like he's just seen a long time family member. "Please, join us." He pushes you and you stumble, stepping into the center of the warehouse.

All eyes fall on you and your jaw tightens as Nick smirks in your direction. They knew you were coming.

Nick feigns a grimaces. "Ooh, that looks bad," he jests, earning laughs from the others. "Did you get in a car accident or something?"

You lunge at him but you're stopped by two large men, who grab your arms and hold you back with ease. The knife in your hand clatters to the floor and one of them kicks it off in some direction. The laughter continues as Nick stands there, looking smug and completely in control. His smirk deepens as he steps closer, eyeing you up and down. The men take the chance to disarm you, taking your gun away from you now. They even take your phone from you.

One of the men clicks the lock button and your phone screen brightens, he then shows Ronny the screen.

Ronny brightens. "Aww, you're the one with my precious Mabel Black Label?" Your jaw tightens, the hold on you getting tighter the more you fight. "You know, she's a special one. She helped her mom a lot, made us a lot of money. It was sad to let her go."

Your heart races as Ronny's words sink in. The mention of Mabel, her name coming from his mouth, twists your stomach into knots. You clench your fists, struggling against the iron grip of the men holding you.

"You see, we let her go," Ronny continues, reading over the message on your phone from Mabel. He clicks his tongue three times. "But I'm thinking we made a mistake. Maybe it's kismet, you know? How she always comes back here, like she wants to belong somewhere. And maybe she belongs here...with us."

Nick cracks a smile. "We should be thanking you, Faro." He teases, using your nickname. It sounds like a curse word coming from him.

Your muscles tense against the hold of the two men restraining you. Every fiber of your being wants to tear him apart, but you know you're outnumbered and outgunned.

"Leave Mabel out of this." You get out through gritted teeth, narrowing your eyes.

Ronny frowns, shaking his head. "No. You see, with you two together;" he pauses, pocketing your phone. "The cash flow will be endless. Your memory, her smarts, your fight, her feistiness–I can see it now. We'll own this town by the end of the year."

Your stomach churns as Ronny's words sink in. The thought of Mabel being dragged back into this life makes your skin crawl. You feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you, but you refuse to show weakness.

Ronny pats your cheek gently, then pinches your cheek. "You're like your father. Talked a big game. Said he would have the money by the end of the week, blah blah blah–it was an endless cycle." He shrugs, shaking his head with disappointment.

The mention of your father makes you lower your guard. It always does when these guys mention him. You wanted information on how your father was around them, because you couldn't figure how he got himself in this mess. Sure, there was gambling but...what else?

"Here's the plan," Ronny nods, silently ordering the men to release you. You nearly fall over, but manage to stable yourself to stay standing. "You care about Mabel, I care about Mabel–hell, everyone in this room cares about Mabel, right, guys?"

You flicker your gaze to them all when they nod. You even hear one of them say they saw her take her first steps. Your jaw tightens, feeling overloaded with the need to fight. But this is a lost battle. You know it.

"So, here's the thing," Ronny takes a deep breath. "We got people wanting to shut us down. Cops, they always wanna ruin the party." He scrunches his nose.

You're not sure where this going.

"Find a way in to the police station," he continues, crossing his arms. "Get the list of CIs and UCs because we can't have them ruining our party." He smirks.

Your mind reels as Ronny lays out his twisted plan. He wants you to infiltrate the police station, betray the very people trying to take down his operation. It's a trap, one that pulls you deeper into the criminal underworld you've been trying to escape.

The thought of betraying anyone, let alone risking the lives of cops—people who could be trying to keep Mabel and your family safe—makes your blood run cold. But the weight of Ronny's leverage, the looming threat to Mabel, presses down hard.

"You're insane if you think I'm going to help you with that," you say, your voice steady despite the whirlwind inside.

Ronny smirks, unfazed. "Oh, I know you don't want to do it. But you will. Because if you don't, well..." He glances around at the men before lowering his voice. "Let's just say, Mabel won't have a choice. She'll come back, and she'll come back worse."

Your fists clench as the reality hits you. He's not bluffing. If you don't comply, Mabel will be dragged into this nightmare, and she won't come out the same. You can't let that happen.

"How the hell am I supposed to get in?" you ask through gritted teeth, knowing you're already losing this battle.

Ronny shrugs casually, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. "You've got connections, don't you? Family ties, friends in the right places. You've been around long enough to know how to get what you need."

You want to punch him, break free, anything but play his game. But the threat against Mabel lingers heavy. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. "And what happens when I get the list? You think they're just going to let me waltz out of there with classified information?"

Ronny grins. "You got that memory thing," he taps your forehead and you fight back the urge to slap his hand away. "Get the list, bring it back here or write it down after memorizing it, and you'll never have to worry about us again. No one will touch Mabel, or you, ever again."

You don't trust him, not for a second. But right now, it's the only way to keep Mabel safe.

"And that's it? We're done?" You ask, glancing at all of them.

Ronny shrugs. "She is. You're not." He answers. "Consider it your way of paying her mother's debt off. She tried to do that for a while, in more ways than just running drugs if you know what I mean?"

The men surrounding you laugh and your hands tightened into a fist.

"Get the list and Mabel is safe." You wait to see if he has more to say. He looks around for a second then leans forward. "As for her boyfriend, he's a different story. But it works well for you because you'll have no competition."

You furrow your brows. "Charlie? What does Charlie have to do with any of this?"

"Well, his brother's father killed one of my best," Ronny responds like it's obvious. "Left a woman a widow and a daughter without his father. And well, a daughter needs her father, right?" He sends you a knowing smile.

Your face twists into a snarl, causing him to laugh. He pats your shoulder then reaches for your phone in his pocket. He hands it to you and waits for you to take it.

It's his way of seeing if you'll take his offer.

You hesitate, staring at the phone in Ronny's hand as if it's a loaded weapon. Accepting it means you're agreeing to his twisted deal, putting yourself deeper into this mess. But if you don't, Mabel's life—and now Charlie's—hangs in the balance.

The mention of Charlie's brother, Tom's father gnaws at you. You heard the story. About the old man who shot Weeks dead. He's Tom's father. And the guy is still working with this crew? How much of an idiot are the people in this town.

Right, you're not one to talk.

But now, Ronny's threatening to use that against him, against you all. He's putting more than just Mabel's life in your hands. Charlie warned you. Stay away from Mabel.

You should have listened.

You reach out slowly, gripping the phone as the tension thickens in the room. Your stomach churns, but you force yourself to stay composed. This isn't just about you anymore. It's about keeping Mabel and her friends safe from this maniac.

Ronny smirks as you take the phone, satisfied. "Good. Now, you've got two days. Make it happen, and maybe this all blows over for Mabel. Maybe."

You turn on your heel, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing any more reaction from you. As you head toward the exit, the weight of the situation settles heavy in your chest. You glance back just once, seeing Nick leaning against the wall, smug as ever.

But this isn't over. One way or another, he's going to get what's his from you.

As you step outside, the cool night air hits you, and you finally allow yourself to breathe. You look down at your phone, wondering how you're going to pull this off without losing everything, or worse—without losing Mabel.

~~~~~~

hi, hello,

sorry for the delay on this chapter. I hope you all had a great holiday and have a great new year. my classes started up again and the next couple of chapters may take some time to post as I already have a butt load of homework (and it’s just the first week). thank you guys for liking my writing, all the support actually encouraged me to post this Mabel story so really thank you.

I’ll see you on the next one, thank you!🫶🏼

[benevolenterrancy]

what I'm learning is that MXTX series really have ☆*: .｡The Range｡.:*☆ and that my first impressions often don't survive for very long...

MDZS, initial impression: ooh revived necromancer that everyone fears, this is going to be dark and revenge-fuelled

MDZS, subsequent impression: these are Silly Lil Guys off on a romcom murder mystery

SVSSS first impression: nerd who got isekai'd into a shitty novel, crybaby puppy dog imprints on him

SVSSS subsequent impression: how many times now has the love interest tortured the main character? should I start a tally?

(i've only just finished SVSSS bk2, please no spoilers!!)

[knightofleo]

At the end of the day...

[glitter-stained]

> people here on tumblr: yeah tumblr batfam stans really love to push fanon stuff on reddit dc fans are much more attached to accuracy and actually interested in the media they're consuming

> *opens reddit to check out if it's really so much better*

> "yeah Mia Dearden's backstory is edgy as fuck for no reason because they wanted to be dark, it should be retconned into something more interesting"

> *insert dudebro alpha male incel take about how great and actually right the joker is*

> "top 10 reason why Jason Todd is a terrible but we're ignoring that like half of this stuff was retconned, ignoring his actual age, exaggerating/depicting events that did happen inaccurately in bad faith with a dash of sexism and gross treatment of victims (yk, just like we complain people on tumblr do) and ignoring/disregarding/downgrading his actual worst crimes because they weren't targeted at known loved named characters so it's just canon fodder"

> "batman is not an abusive father" - please be about how in your opinon the event of evident brutal physical abuse currently being discussed is ooc- "he deserved it" well fuck me i guess

> *sighs*

> *opens tumblr*

[wildsaltair]

This will be my single controversial rant about Gladiator and its sequel (specifically my thoughts on Maximus being retconned as Lucius' father), and then I will be silent on the matter because this blog is meant to be A Good Time and I just enjoy sharing my love for Gladiator with everyone on here :)

KIND OF SPOILERS FOR GLADIATOR AND THE SEQUEL (BUT NOT REALLY) BELOW

As everyone knows, Ridley Scott made the choice to reveal in Gladiator 2 that Lucius is actually the son of Maximus from a secret affair with Lucilla. In G2, it's apparently implied that Lucilla was trapped in a bad marriage, fell in love with Maximus, and kept the truth about Lucius' father a secret. Lots of viewers have been split about this, with some thinking that plot point was implied in Gladiator and others feeling that it contradicts what was established in Gladiator.

I am strongly of the opinion that this choice was a bad one, that it does interfere with the integrity of the original film, and that Gladiator 2 would have been much better without that change. I'll give my reasons below.

1. Yes, rewriting Maximus as a cheater does destroy his entire character arc in Gladiator.

We've all seen Gladiator, right? The one where the hero has everything life can offer but longs only to return home to be with his beloved wife and son? Carries their figurines with him into battle, cares only for them when his own life is threatened, lays down to die by their graves after he finds them dead? Spends the whole movie only wanting to meet them again in the afterlife and only gets peace once he's there.

Yeah. Apparently that guy cheated on his wife with a princess. His son and Lucilla's sons are the same age, which means Maximus would have to have been married to his wife while also sleeping with Lucilla.

Maximus' entire character arc relies on his pure, unconditional, self-sacrificial love for his family. Take that away, and you have a generic action movie about a guy who wants revenge because the Emperor tried to kill him once. Even when Maximus has lost everything inside himself and cares about nothing else, he still honors the memory of his family and fights to avenge them as well as join them. He is shown still talking to his wife in the afterlife through prayer and believing she can hear him. As @streets-in-paradise pointed out, it's the equivalent of having Aragon or Hector of Troy cheat on their wives — it's just painfully out of character for them.

There's also an element of Maximus' love and respect for his Emperor, Marcus Aurelius, another driving force in his characterization. I think Maximus has too much respect for Marcus to have had an affair with Marcus' married daughter, even if he knew Marcus maybe would have wished Maximus had married Lucilla. We never get much insight into that part of the past, but if we go by the virtues Maximus upholds throughout the movie, I just don't think Maximus would have considered sneaking behind Marcus' back to sleep with his daughter.

Either way, the emotional heart of Maximus' character is his love for his family, and retconning that so your sequel has a "bigger emotional impact" is nothing short of undignified and sloppy.

2. All the conversations between Maximus and Lucilla in Gladiator imply that they did have a romantic relationship — but that it was public (not clandestine) and took place before either of them were married.

Yes, Maximus and Lucilla definitely were in love at some point. Russell Crowe and Connie Nielsen have great chemistry, and their conversations (both of them) hold so much weight with "what could have been." Lucilla talks about how she wounded Maximus deeply as he did her, and their conversations are full of things like, "Is it so terrible seeing me again?" The weight of their previous emotional attachment pervades the movie in a way that is inextricable from the plot.

BUT. Maximus and Lucilla had their relationship A LONG TIME AGO. This is very clearly established by the way they talk to each other. Maximus has been in Germania for twelve years (taking breaks only to go home, but NEVER to visit Rome). He and Lucilla presumably met sometime before that, probably while the royal family was visiting some city where Maximus was serving in / commanding the army. The details are never established.

However, Maximus and Lucilla clearly had a public enough relationship that Marcus and Commodus knew about it, but there is never the slightest mention in Gladiator that Lucius might be Maximus' son — something Commodus surely would have exploited had he known it was a possibility.

Maximus and Lucilla were in love, but it was before they married other people. They were probably teenagers or young adults who fell madly in love, wanted to marry, but were stopped for whatever reason (probably Maximus not wanting to play politician's games, as he implies). Maximus met the woman he eventually married, Lucilla married Lucius Verus, and they carried on with their lives until they met again at the beginning of Gladiator.

Also, Maximus talks about the respect he had for Lucilla's husband (a far cry from what Gladiator 2 implies about Lucius Verus), and she talks about how she mourned Maximus' family. Sure, you can read into the script and find stuff about how Maximus could have been Lucius' father, but it explicitly goes against the values and implications of the overall acript.

Connie Nielsen stated that she played her scenes thinking that Maximus was Lucius' father. She's an actress, and she plays Lucilla brilliantly. But she's not the scriptwriter, and no matter what her intentions were, the script implies that their relationship took place much longer ago, before either of them were married. @becomelions made a great post about how Lucilla, too, can wish as much as she wants that Maximus was Lucius' father, but he couldn't have been. Not unless you retcon all of Gladiator as fanfiction.

3. Maximus' relationships with Lucilla and Lucius are not meant to replace those he had with his wife and son — they are meant to be reflections of some of the bigger themes of the film.

With all that said, this is not a hate post about how Gladiator should have been about Maximus and his wife and son, and how I hate Lucilla and Lucius' story and think it contradicts that blah blah blah. NO. The storyline with Lucilla, Lucius, and Maximus is one of the strong points of the whole movie — but not as a replacement for the family he has lost.

In a lot of ways, Lucilla represents Rome as the ideal Maximus always believed in: beautiful, noble, and proud. When he becomes disillusioned with Rome, he becomes disillusioned with Lucilla; when he starts to believe in the hope of Rome again, he starts to believe in Lucilla again. They're always linked. Lucilla is not the woman he wants to start over with and marry now that his wife is gone. She is an old friend and ally whom he eventually learns to trust again.

Lucius, on the other hand, represents what Rome can be again. Lucius is the grandson of Marcus Aurelius, and I think Maximus longs to honor his mentor by preserving the life of his last living heir. Lucius reminds Maximus of his son, yes, and he brings out the protectiveness and the desire to do for Lucius what he couldn't do for his own son. But that doesn't mean Lucius has to be his son for that relationship to have emotional impact, as I will explain further in point 5.

4. Maximus' relationships with Lucilla and Lucius are genuinely integral to the film, but as they are — not as what they could be.

Again, I absolutely love the dynamics between Maximus, Lucilla, and Lucius throughout Gladiator. Russell and Connie play off each other so well with those "I remember how you used to be but that was a long time ago" vibes. Russell and Spencer Treat Clark only share one scene, but it's one of the film's most memorable scenes.

However, we are not meant to question those relationships as "oooooh but what if Lucius is actually Maximus' son????" Maybe Ridley left that door open for the audience to consider, but again, I feel like the film contradicts that by implying that Lucilla and Maximus loved each other much longer ago.

When you make Lucius Maximus' son, Lucilla's seeking out of Maximus as his savior becomes less interesting. It becomes "I'm calling on you to save your son even though you don't know he's your son" instead of "I'm asking you to act out of the goodness inside you to save a boy who doesn't deserve to die any more than your own son did." The version we see in Gladiator is so much more impactful.

It also cheapens what Lucius' journey could have been in Gladiator 2! Again, @streets-in-paradise pointed out how much better the sequel could have been if Lucius had been acting in the shadow of a brilliant man who captivated the city of Rome but also was his friend for a little while. As I'll discuss in point 6, having the reveal of Lucius as Maximus' son is just the laziest possible route for a sequel, and it certainly drags down the dignity of the relationships we see in Gladiator.

5. One of the strengths of Maximus' choice to fight for Lucius' survival in Gladiator lies in the fact that he doesn't have any familial obligation to him.

This is one of my favorite points, because I do love the dynamics between Maximus and little Lucius! Maximus has a bone-deep obligation to save his family — he rides for days and nights to get home and save them, but he misses them by a matter of hours. He wrestles with guilt and misery because he feels like he failed them. He was supposed to be their protector, and he couldn't save them.

BUT. Maximus has no such blood ties to Lucius. This kid is the son of Maximus' ex, the grandson of Maximus' dead mentor, and the nephew of his most hated enemy. Maximus doesn't have an obligation to Lucius as his father: he doesn't even know him until Lucius approaches him in the arena.

And that's what makes his decision to fight for Lucius so powerful. Maximus sees Lucius as the hope of Rome, and he decides that's still worth fighting for — something he had given up on before. Even though he has no obligation to save Lucius as his son, he wants to save him as an innocent young boy caught in political matters over his head.

Again, making Lucius Maximus' son cheapens the impact of that decision. Ridley Scott built up so many amazing plot points and relationships, and it really disappoints me that he just cast them aside to make some easy money by relying on the success of the original.

6. Relying on such a trite, overused plot point to make up the emotional foundation of your sequel can only weaken your sequel and ruin the dignity of your original film.

My final point is simply that Gladiator 2 could have been really well done. They could have done something original with it (or something totally off-the-wall like Russell Crowe's vision LOL). But I think Ridley Scott was banking on that nostalgia factor, and he chose a plot point that he knew would be easily marketable — the hero of the second film is the hero of the first film.

We've seen it done literally hundreds of times, from Star Wars to Superman to Toy Story, and having that be the big reveal of Gladiator 2 is just lazy writing. To have Lucius trying to live up to the legacy of Maximus the hero would have been interesting. To have Lucius discover that he's the son of literally anyone else would have been interesting. To have Lucius discover that he's the son of Maximus is an eye-roll-inducing move that should have been trailer bait and nothing more.

Primarily! Because it can't be the emotional foundation of the movie! Lucius has to have his own journey if it's his movie; he can't just walk in Maximus' footsteps and be like, "Father, speak to me," if he's not going on his own individual emotional journey. We as the audience have to relate to our hero because he's our hero, not because he's the son of our hero.

I'll be honest — I probably wouldn't go see a sequel to Gladiator no matter what it was about because I think Gladiator is a perfect standalone movie and should have stayed that way. I just don't think you can recreate the scale and impact and simplicity of Gladiator in today's film industry.

However, I could at least have had respect for a sequel to Gladiator if Ridley Scott had shown some respect for his own movie. I just hate the fact that Maximus' noble, honorable character is reduced to a cheating husband whose only character trait of note is that he served Rome. Maximus is one of the best characters of the 21st century, and I love him too much to support a movie that trashes that legacy (as well as tries to replicate the beauty of my favorite film of all time).

Final thoughts:

Gladiator is a movie. You can read into it whatever you want, and it doesn't hurt anyone.

I love Gladiator more than I can say, and it's really important to me not just as a cultural icon but on a personal level as well.

Anyone who knows this blog knows how much I love Maximus Decimus Meridius, and Ridley's choice to change Maximus' character so drastically is one that really just ticks me off.

To me personally, Gladiator 2 is not canon, and I will never consider it so on this blog.

[gnomewithalaptop]

Transcendence AU Dash Simulator GO!!!

31 notes

🌟 lesbianstellaconifer Follow

okay but actually block me if you ship mizcor -- 'hurr durr but we age stella up' -- SHUT UPPP she's literally a minor and alcor's canonically over a million years old so how about you stop being a freak

🎩 woodsmans-left-nipple Follow

Babe I hate to break this to you but Mizcor's literally one of the most famous relationships in all of post-transcendental literature

🌟 lesbianstellaconifer Follow

I could not have more obviously been talking about Mizar the Magnificent but you know what? Yeah classic Mizcor supporters can fuck off too actually.

Everybody likes to whip out Twin Souls like some kind of gotcha but have you even actually read it??? Like it's literally supporting demon worship and pedophilia -- both of which are EXTREMELY ILLEGAL btw. So yeah if I see any of my followers reblogging that shit I'm reporting you to the Occult Defense Agency idc if we're mutuals

🐟 demonologyturnedmegay Follow

*looks at my Alcorian Literature PhD* guess we better stock up on prison shivs buddy

🍃 haveyouseenmylibrary Follow

okay I'm sorry but

and Mizar the Magnificent isn't????

5k notes

📷 nature-pics-daily

Los Angeles 🏝️

#sunken city of los angeles #new california #travel #ocean #photography #lmao i almost got eaten by a kelpie trying to take this pic pls reblog it

98 notes

🧁 definitely-mizar Follow

Hey guys! Just wanted to let you know that The Scepter of Vanquished Souls, the newest book in the Wanderlust Trilogy, is now available for pre order on Glamazon!

Purchasers of the hard-cover edition will also receive never-before-seen content, including a deleted scene between Princess Samia and the Shadow King!

🤷‍♂️ not-not-ian-beale Follow

Boosting because I honestly cannot recommend this book enough. Truly one of Mira's best (and I'm not just saying that because she married me!)

25k notes

⚠️ alv Follow

CONGRATULATIONS!!!

You are the 6 billionth user to log into Jumblr today!! This means you are eligible to win a FREE WACBOOK PRO!!!! Click here to claim your prize and win BIG BIG REWARDS!!

#twin souls #mizar #alcor #mizcor #twin souls: reawakened #twin souls: breaking circles #twin souls: newest moon #twinner #twincon3015 #not a scam

Based on your likes!

0 notes

🌞 azarath-metrion-zinthirst Follow

So. I had a day.

📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow

Okay, but consider

🌞 azarath-metrion-zinthirst Follow

I don't remember my older brother's wedding

📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow

A small price to pay for no middle school trauma

🐧 selkiebael Follow

Okay so I just read the url and--

Asfdksfjk go off you funky lil intern

📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow

I'm actually the senior librarian. But thanks!

🐈 alcorphabetical Follow

Posts that have 10k notes. To me

15k notes

🔮 demonoftheday Follow

Today's demon of the day is Nxlar the Antithetical! Responsible for the Florida Springs Massacre of 3007, the body count for this purveyor of madness is estimated to be over 400 (source).

🐸 that-one-half-elf-bitch

I could fix her

41 notes

🍑 lookingformygnomequeen Follow

literally screaming crying throwing up rn I've turned off 'Based on your likes' like eight times @staff can't you just get rid of him already

2.5k notes

🎤 rosaslittleredboots Follow

#i accidentally set my alchemy textbook on fire today and i don't even care AAAAAA this is going to be amazing #northwest mansion mystery #pacifica northwest #rosa darling #im about to be so insufferable about this just you wait

616 notes

👹 sexiestdemon3015bracket Follow

🐸 that-one-half-elf-bitch

Nxlar SWEEEEEP!!!

#if you love me at all you'll vote for my lady love #LISTEN i could bring her to the light i nkow i could

37 notes

👻 sweetthingsaremadeofdeeznuts

Lmao so Nxlar the Antithetical totally turned my apartment complex into a pile of sentient sludge yesterday. I'm fine -- I was at work when it all went down, but uh... yeah, my situation obviously just became super not-great. I hate to ask, but I don't get paid til the 15th, so if some of y'all could float me some cash just so I can get a motel room for a couple nights, I'll fr owe you a life debt

Goal: 0/250

FundFriend

LenMo

#fuck demons fr #like seriously what'd i ever do to them 😭😭😭 #mutual aid #pls boost #don't tag as donation

17 notes

🏳️‍⚧️ gliesssse Follow

Important PSA

So idk if y'all have been reading the news lately, but the alcor virus has been making the rounds on the interwebs again. I feel like I shouldn't have to say this but PLEASE don't click any random links rn, ESPECIALLY if they're tagged with twin souls.

I know we twinners love to joke about it, but the alcor virus is legitimately dangerous and has been known to seriously ruin people's lives. Idk. Just like be smart and practice basic caution I guess? Jumblr's pretty much dead these days, so he might skip over us, but it's always better to be safe than sorry

⚠️ alv Follow

This is a good point! It is always better to be safe than sorry! That's why if you're smart, you'll click here for a list of ways to virus-proof your computer. Stay safe out there everybody!

Based on your likes!

4k notes

🌲 discogirl99 Follow

Anyone else just randomly crave connective tissue sometimes

🧁 sparkle-glitter-sideblog

no actually i think that might just be a you thing

#also i heard screaming on the other line when i called you earlier there better not be a mess when i get home #beloved demon brother tag

2 notes

👑 sameeya

Okay guys I might be crazy but what if the Shadow King was actually telling the truth when he said Princess Samia's brother is still alive??? Like, if you think about it, there's a tonnnn of foreshadowing in Crown of Ghosts and the author tweeted that there was gonna be a surprise twist in the new book sooo 👀👀

#i've connected the dots -- YOU DIDN'T CONNECT SHIT -- i've connected them #wanderlust trilogy #mira ramachandran #crown of ghosts #scepter of vanquished souls #princess samia #samia of cleves #shadow king #ahmed of cleves #bookblr

25 notes

🪨 professionalnatural-deactivated30141227

Reminder that you are beautiful exactly as you are and there are thousands who would sell their souls to imitate what you do naturally <3

👠 mizarsfrillypetticoat Follow

I actually really needed this today 💗

🦇 plsbytemevladdyzaddy Follow

Yo quit reblogging this op is a blatant human supremacist

🪨 professionalnatural-deactivated30141227

And? No one cares lmao

⚠️ alv Follow

Enjoy deactivation. Lmao.

🪓 wenda-was-a-lesbian-confirmed Follow

🕵🏻‍♂️ alcor-in-the-tardis Follow

#I sent screenshots of that one centaur post to her boss too #give you two guesses what species his wife is (tags by @alv)

Holy shit. Am I actually rooting for the alcor virus rn?

🍄 warioxreader Follow

maybe the real virus was the friends we made along the way <3

⚠️ alv Follow

No, the real virus is me. Don't take credit for my accomplishments.

🐲 retiredbus Follow

Heritage post

62k notes

🐔 old-friends-senior-griffin-sanctuary Follow

I just want to get dicked down again =/

[narse-tantalus]

Since I just saw a post on the same blog about countering the spread of misinformation using the SIFT method I'm going to apply it here.

Stop

Is this post provoking an emotional response? Yes

Is it trying to? Also yes.

What do I already know about the source? Twitter screenshots on Tumblr are unreliable. I know nothing about the linked pmc19.com but it doesn't look like a government or university website url.

Investigate (The Source)

What can you find about the author/website creators?

the link to pmc19.com/data resolves, and that website does seem to be the source of these claims, although the current numbers are slightly off those reported in the tweets, likely because we're a week later.

pmc19.com links to a PDF with "Background on Dr. Hoerger and the PMC". There they discuss how Dr. Hoerger (who claims copyright of the webpage at the bottom) is trained in clinical psychology, has taught and was doing an MBA in 2019 on strategic management. It claims he's "an expert in personality, emotions, and affective decision science..." and mentions he did a masters degree wich involved a lot of stuff... And also epidemiology.

The PMC is apparently "The Pandemic Mitigation Collaborative" with unnamed members who have " led many projects to keep people safer during the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic." and "The PMC dashboard is cited in grant applications, including at least two grants already funded. It has been cited by trusted organizations like the People’s CDC, news outlets, and scientific journals, including several papers published in JAMA journals."

Which really sounds like they think I should trust them at least as much as I trust people who write grants, and/or "The People's CDC" -- this makes me think they are unlikely to be an accurate source.

Here's Dr. Hoerger's bio at Louisiana Cancer research center:

https://www.louisianacancercenter.org/people/michael-hoerger-phd

It says "Dr. Hoerger conducts psychosocial research to reduce the emotional and physical burden of serious illnesses. Dr. Hoerger is an international expert in psychosocial oncology as well as pandemic mitigation." And the lists a bunch of psychology stuff. Literally never mentions pandemics again. If he's an "international expert in pandemic mitigation" a) I'd expect him to work somewhere other than a Cancer center b) I'd expect his bio to mention his pandemic mitigation work. Maybe he's new to all this pandemic stuff? He certainly doesn't claim to be an epidemiologist on the pmc website, just to have worked on a project that involves it.

When I google "The Pandemic Mitigation Collaborative" the second result is this webpage which questions their methodology and suggests that their model is incapable of making accurate predictions -- claiming it's always going to be biased towards whatever happened on the same dates last year -- both low and high. (I'm summarizing and interpreting a huge amount here,so read it yourself, and the source is just a blog post so not intrinsically more credible...) But it is note worthy that the main 3rd party discussion of this organization is someone questioning the utility of their predictions.

https://buttondown.com/abbycartus/archive/we-need-to-talk-about-the-pandemic-mitigation/

What is their mission? Do they have vested interests? Would their assessment be biased?

Their mission seems to be to "track" or predict cases of covid -- but like better than the real CDC and epidemiologists. Presumably this is born out of concern for immunocompromised individuals, or boredom, or needing a project for a Strategic Management MBA, or distrust of Official Sources.

They appear to have a vested interest in pandemic mitigation, and therefore alarmism and possibly in not agreeing with official sources. Their assessment may well be biased!

Do they have authority in the Area?

No. They mention precisely 0 epidemiologists working for or with them. I don't see a reason to trust their models more than my physics grad student friends who made pandemic models on a lark in 2020.

Find Better Coverage

The official CDC (Centers for Disease Control) webpage on Covid data is here:

https://covid.cdc.gov/covid-data-tracker/#datatracker-home

It indicates lower numbers than last year for everything they track, numbers that are kind of ticking up in recent weeks, but numbers that are forecast (if I'm reading that right) to reach a smaller peak than in prior years.

Notably the CDC is not making any directly comparable claims about number of people infected or infectious. Or how many might be infected next month. I believe this is because these are fundamentally unknowable from the data they have, and that speculating on them would be irresponsible for public communicators of science. Sure, one could create models that predict those numbers, but publishing the results to the public without context on the uncertainties of the models would be irresponsible since people might make life or death decisions like wearing a mask or getting a vaccine based on those bad predictions. Or they might just rage at people online who disagree with them. Idk, I'm not a science communicator.

Don't trust the CDC? Tough. The New York Times ended their own covid tracking in 2023 saying:

After more than three years of daily reporting of coronavirus data in the United States, The New York Times is ending its Covid-19 data-gathering operation. The Times will continue to publish virus data from the federal government weekly on a new set of tracking pages, but this page will no longer be updated.

This change was spurred by the declining availability of virus data from state and local health officials. Since few states report more than once a week (and some no longer report data to the public at all), the weekly data reports from the C.D.C. have become the most reliable source of information on the virus’s spread.

There new webpage is here and it was last updated in March 2024, it says:

These Covid tracking pages are no longer being updated. Get the latest information from the Centers for Disease Control, or find archived data from The Times’s three year reporting effort here.

John's Hopkins University has this to say:

On March 10, 2023, the Johns Hopkins Coronavirus Resource Center ceased collecting and reporting of global COVID-19 data. For updated cases, deaths, and vaccine data please visit the following sources: Global: World Health Organization (WHO) U.S.: U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC)

So yeah, reputable sources have stopped caring and link you to the CDC as the place to get your info.

Trace Claims, Quotes, and Media to their Original Context

The pmc19.com website does appear to be the original context for these claims. Thank you OP for linking that.

My Verdict:

These claims are misinformation. Specifically they claim numbers that are based on a model that was not created by subject matter experts, that disagrees with the trends reported by the CDC and it's epidemiologists. Either government employed epidemiologists are wrong and no university epidemiologists want to call them out on it... Or the PMC is wrong. Since they aren't epidemiologists... They're probably wrong. Moreover: If you don't trust the CDC you shouldn't The PMC because in their technical apendix they claim to use CDC data to make their projections. The only way the PMC could be right is if all other epidemiologists are wrong about the COVID pandemic and how to interpret wastewater and hospitalization data.

The PMC and Dr. Hoerger are engaging in academic sounding BS. They have incentives to be alarmist and fear monger, and don't seem to care or understand that they're using a model that probably doesn't have predictive value.

Data source: https://pmc19.com/data/

[waitineedaname]

you know, im curious.... those brave souls who follow me and haven't read svsss but haven't blacklisted the tag, what knowledge have you absorbed through my blog?

[fisheito]

FISHIE'S NUCA RECS (ongoing!)

⚠ many are locked, so it's best to view while logged into your ao3! ⚠ ❗ yeah, this list is yakumo-centric. there are some exceptions, but... generally, beware of snakes. https://archiveofourown.org/users/fisheito/collections Fics divided into subcollections under that big collection ⬆ :

Polyclan Plot (porn optional) here's the plot-heavier stuff often involving more than 2 clan members. sometimes porn. sometimes crying. sometimes both?

pwp or p with a bit of p pornzone. anything from [quick n dirty] to [Grand Character Explorations Resulting in Boinkery]. i kept most yakuei porn out of this collection because otherwise, it would overwhelm it 🤣

*peers inside the box* no boinking?!? mishmash of fic that doesn't necesssarrrrillly have explicit sex "on-screen". range of moods included from fluff to hurt/comfort. Doesn't include yakuei-centric fic for the same reason as above. 😅

big ol sloshing bucket of yakuei it's yakuei. it's got the porn AND the Not. it must be contained within this bucket so as not to overpopulate the other collections.

bottom yakumo reading list pretty much the same as the list i have on tumblr. it's bottom OR not-explicitly-top subby yakumo. love to see that the number of fic in here has hit double digits. we're doing great out here

feesh purgatory fic i haven't finished reading, and fic that i found interesting, but not sure i would re-read as much as the others. that's purgatory, baybeee!!

[craftykit1]

yeah yeah custom themes are cool and all but can you please make sure your like + reblog buttons are visible and functional

[creaturefeaster]

Hi... Great job on colorquest but... Im having trouble keeping up with the formatting... I haven't really been able to read it... But maybe that's just my dyslexic ass.

Hi-- thank you, first off!

But hmm, I wonder how this could be mitigated. Would alternating colors per line help alleviate dyslexia?

If you (or anyone else who is dyslexic) have any suggestions on how I could improve the dialogue layout, I'd like to hear them.

I'd like my story to be as accessible as possible.

[pathologicalreid]

genuinely so sick and tired of the "where's the fluff/angst" and "all people write is smut" discourse and it's not because i tend to write more fluff/angst than smut but the implication that if a writer exclusively or frequently writes smut then they're somehow a bad writer.

writing mostly smut does not inherently make you a bad writer. writing mostly fluff/angst does not inherently make you a good writer. complaining about what fanfic writers put on the internet for free and tearing other people down for what they write does make you an asshole, though.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

it's less us adopting you and more like a-yuan where you ran up to us in a busy marketplace (tumblr tags/dashboard) and latched onto our legs with vengeance and adopted us into your chaos (but like in a good way)

Mutually Assured Adoption. We will take to the town and cause havoc