#answered sum questions bc i want to

[patrice-bergerons]

At this point right, my favourite painter is already JMW Turner, so maybe, I should just fully lean into this tall ship thing I clearly have going on and watch nothing but various historical nautical dramas. Why not.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when you declined to play Ddakji with a man, the least you expected was him stalking you, even less expected when you oblige him to lick your bleeding wound after seeing him kill a man and escaping him.

warnings_ MDNI, age gap (not specified but legal) reader is a foreigner (implied American but not specified again), stalking, blood play, dom!salesman, switch!reader, toxic till the end, sexual innuendos, manipulation, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ I’ll just drop this fic and leave it there bc why am i feeling so horny for an Asian sociopath? me la estoy pasando bien raro (i like it)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 this man

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everything was irritating. The class you had was canceled last minute, the crowd at the train station was loud, the tapping of a kid in a window was constant, and the message you received asking for your campus ID to keep using your student account was sudden and required immediate action. Your cramps and migraine only aggravate everything.

You were steps away from the stairs when you stopped to take the damn picture of your ID and be done with that. But of course, you couldn’t find your wallet at first glance, so you moved aside to take a better look.

You worried about kneeling and ruining your black coat with the dirtiness of the floor at the station, but at the same time, you thought it was just stupid.

A trail of curses flooded your mind as you tried to find your wallet, making you oblivious to a random man walking in your direction.

“Excuse me, Miss… Would you like to play Ddakji?” Said the man asked you in Korean. You were occupied with a hand inside your thrifted designer tote, and your mind unconsciously prepared an answer in English.

“Sorry, I don’t have time” When you realized your mid-answer you sighed, just as you fished out your wallet. “For every win of yours, you’ll earn a great sum of cash”

Once you stood up, you met the face of the man who now answered in English as well. Very tall, handsome, innocent smile and in a suit; a businessman. You knew it was wrong to judge but there was something behind the smile he offered you that resulted eerie.

Like behind that seemingly blameless expression, the man was hiding his true intentions.

Might’ve been your eyes or hair that caught his attention. You weren’t native, and he didn’t want to think he could take advantage, yet his feet dragged him to you.

Placing your bag over your shoulder again, you grab your glasses and phone with tangled EarPods. You give the man one last look. You are not having a good day and you don’t have time to deal with this.

“What do you say?” He asks feigning kindness, eyeing you subtly without your knowledge.

“No, thank you. I don’t even know how the game works”

“You look like you are a natural. You might be surprised if you try. You just have to pick a color and try to flip the opposing tile”

The rich always trying to fuck the one who isn’t. This was just a new way. The urge to roll your eyes grew but you remained still.

“Look, I’m sorry. But I bet you do this just to see how desperate people who need money can go. I won’t be one of them. If not, sorry for misjudging you” you harshly say before putting on your EarPods and leaving the station. You leave him perplexed, huffing in disbelief and igniting a fire of curiosity inside him.

And you completely forgot about the Ddakji man as you made it to your little apartment, not knowing he would turn upside down your upcoming days.

…

Warm days in winter were exciting for you. They boosted your energy and made you want to be out all day.

You had the luck of living in a beautiful complex because it was once from a friend of your mother who married years ago and now had her single apartment for rent.

It had long warm hallways that hosted at least eight apartments by floor. With orange and pink subtle lights and uneven edges. It was truly a sight despite how little the apartments were. One bedroom with closet and bathroom, a tiny studio, small kitchen, enough space for a dining table, another small bathroom, and a half sized living room with balcony.

Your loneliness was well-balanced because you loved your home. But even on warm days, you wanted to be out.

Your red shoes contrasted with everything you stepped on. You carried a bag with a bunch of books and another one with thrifted clothes you bought.

At the park you always walked by, there was a fair amount of people as usual. You don’t care much to look around but someone makes you stare longer than needed.

The same man who asked if you wanted to play a game at the station was in the park. Another impeccable suit dressing him, looking attractive like the first time and already looking at you.

He offered you a smile, to which you didn’t reply. You looked at the ground, feeling like you had frozen.

What a weirdo, he offered bread and a random paper to a lonely man.

Simultaneously, you wondered if the man found you attractive enough to stare like that. With your mind that often became nihilistic, you thought you were delusional and that you should just keep walking.

His eyes remained glued to you. As his prey was thinking about what was better to choose, he contemplated you walking again.

The salesman realized he had made you nervous and that made him feel eager to end his job and follow you again.

Once he realized you lived in a good neighborhood, where his elegant suits matched the vibe, he got even more excited to see you again.

So now, was like it was meant to be.

How sweet, sophisticated, and innocent you looked.

Something shifted, as you passed by his side, only having a view of his back, you assumed he was worked out, his hair looked perfectly fine, and his big hands offered two things. Perhaps you had misjudged him and he really wanted to help. But your inner voice said otherwise. In a sudden change of events, you decided to look back once you were almost at the exit of the park.

With his deep gaze still set on you, your lips formed a smile.

And he took it as a first win in the games that had begun between you two.

…

Once again, you find yourself in the library. Inside one of the biggest malls you’ve been to, you are leaning at a counter, asking if they have an English translation of a book you were interested in.

Your Korean isn’t good enough yet, so as the nice librarian disappeared to find your request, you are working on your next reply, with a translation app.

“Do you recommend me this one?” your back arched as a startled reflex. You quickly stand straight and turn around to see the person you grew anxious to avoid and see again. The salesman is there, looking down at you with a perfectly orchestrated smile.

“Huh?” you ask disconcertingly, he shows you a book, his face looking like he had found a wounded little bird. But it was only you, startled and nervous by his strong presence.

The book is The Divine Comedy. Dante Alighieri.

“Certainly is a good one. A lot of heavenly justice…” you say trying to sound confident, looking at the cover of the book. Displaying the layers that separated heaven from hell. “Do you believe in heavenly justice?”

“I don’t know. We can’t call someone a sinner without a proper trial beforehand” he chuckles, which makes you frown for a second. He truly was unpredictable and you didn’t like that. “Ah, sinners. Always misjudged and harshly punished for being the ones who have the guts to make things…” his deep voice and tone made you wonder if he was self-perceived as a sinner, which made you feel worse.

“You sound like an ethnocentric…”

“I don’t think I’m far into that type of thinking, y/n” Your eyes almost popped out, leaving your hands in an anxious tremble.

“How is it possible that you know my name?” Before he can even answer, you add more. “You are stalking me”

His demonic smile makes your heart stop. The smile you once thought had innocence can’t blind you anymore. He isn’t innocent. He literally confirmed he was stalking you and you didn’t know how to feel.

“I don’t like the idea that conveys the word ‘stalking’. We can call it predestination…” you huff in disbelief. “What do you want with me?”

“I would like to get to know the woman who rejected my Ddakji offer. And ask for one more game” Your lips form a line, and quietly you are hating how much you are enjoying the conversation.

“Hmm, I’m bad at most games, so I’m afraid I will reject you once again” You turned back again to see if the librarian was coming when you felt him stepping closer, which made you feel nervous again.

“I might believe you. I always win…” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers through your spine and creating a lot of tension.

Your psycho mode almost made you lean forward again, daring to see if some friction was possible. But you didn’t, trying to be prudent and acting sane.

“I would’ve wanted a normal first interaction and this time you should’ve asked me out on a date. That’s how it works where I come from but… here, I guess not” he stepped aside as the librarian handed you the book. And as you thanked her and turned to leave and pay somewhere else, he took out a card and handed it to you.

“I’m sure we can work on some sort of arrangement. Here, you may call me…” slightly irritated that he didn’t say much about your inquiry, you snatched the card and walked away.

The cathartic feelings of wanting to keep talking to him and running away from him at the same time resulted in excruciating. It didn’t make sense, the point of him was to nowhere. Being clueless about his age, name, and everything made it feel wrong. Yet, curiosity was starting to burn you.

…

Like a miracle, the heavens moved and sprinkled some luck above you. You found some friends on campus, they spoke English like you and were foreigners as well. One of them was a friend of the owner of a club and invited you for the night.

The invitation made you forgetful about your salesman, whom you hadn’t talked with since the encounter in the library. The card he handed the last time rested between the book you bought the same day, making you unable to read more because it reminded you of the encounter with him.

It resulted unknown to you when was that your life had turned over the edge of becoming twisted. Your feelings for a mysterious man who seemed more accusable than appeared remained undecided.

He made you feel like a wildfire and a caged bird at the same time. Delicate but menacing.

He seemed older than you, professional in a field, mature and imposing. Which you didn’t mind when he appeared to ask you about The Divine Comedy. Either way, you were playing but couldn’t risk anything. Especially in a country where you didn’t know how everything worked.

After getting out of the shower, your thoughts on the salesman are completely faded. You slip on a sequin dress and paint your eyes with glitter and a smokey style.

Thereafter, at the club you let yourself go and have a wild night. Between classes, essays, and the issue with the salesman, you needed a time out.

Everything feels nice when you take a bathroom break and you smile at your reflection. You know you are close to being drunk, it’s the most enjoyable stage of ingesting alcohol.

“Hey, let’s go dancing, I couldn’t find you before!” Yells one of your friends after you reunite with the little group. You nod excitedly, taking her hand and letting her take you to the dance floor.

The music reminded you of that time when spinnin records were a trend and everyone played their mixes at parties back at home. As you move along the track, you don’t look at anything in particular, you just feel interesting and sexy. But your eyes end up giving a quick glance at one table, almost making you stop your euphoric moment.

You swore you saw your salesman.

Looking around you don’t see him, so you return dancing but the odd sensation in your chest doesn’t let you rest.

“What happens?” Asks another friend, looking worried.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone. Never mind…” you shake your head, smiling and convincing them that everything is fine.

But once they got more drunk, you walked out, despite curiosity, you wanted to confirm if the tall gorgeous man was near you.

Rarely you bring up to question your life decisions. Not because you thought you were perfect, but because you easily accepted your errors.

And it wasn’t hard to accept you completely messed up by getting out of the club. Where the night was colder, and some steps away from the main entrance, the crowd was loud. A man could be heard pleading and sobbing, which made you fearful but eager to see what was happening.

You peeked at the alley beside the club. A wave of shock flooded you once you noticed another man was punching the one who yelped and sobbed for forgiveness.

Your salesman was the attacker.

“Please! I’ll pay everything back!” Your mind raced back to the moment you spotted your salesman inside the club minutes ago.

His dark grey suit didn’t fit the aura of the place, but he seemed to be talking with the same man he was now punching.

It was obvious at that point that he wasn’t a good man. He made fun of making people play his seemingly innocent games to later laugh in the face whenever they lost. He was never flirting with you, the odd feeling of uncertainty you felt with him was right.

You had to go. You had to burn the card he gave you, avoid the station where you met him, and forget about his face.

There’s panic in your system, your heart beats fast and nausea starts coming up your throat.

You want to get immediately drunk and forget everything you saw with a hangover. You need it.

But you don’t get very far. Midway through the stairs that conduct to the club, a hand holds your forearm with extreme pressure and drags you inside a private room.

Your salesman finally found you.

…

“You just killed a man!” you almost yelled as soon as he pushed you inside and closed the door.

The room was very fancy like the club. It had a big desk near a window, flower-shaped hanging lamps, black sparkly floor tiles, and a sage velvet couch.

Your salesman slides his fingers through his hair and looks at the ceiling before turning to you. One hand still carrying the murder weapon.

“He deserved it” was all he answered and you take a breath. In need of an alibi, you opened a random fridge in the room and grabbed a beer. Your salesman watched how you sipped at the can. He knew you were feeling a mix of curiosity and disgust for him.

Once you drink at least half of the content, you sigh, brushing aside some hair and walking towards him.

“Who are you?” you ask pleadingly, desperate to know how far you’ve gone for him.

“Eventually you’ll know” he sounds cold, calculating, and menacing. “You didn’t call…”

He was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

“I met you a week ago, I don’t even know your name” you admit with shame and dissatisfaction.

For the first time, he genuinely touches you. Hands straight to your waist, making gasp in surprise.

“You’re smart and will eventually understand. You’re my good girl”

His good girl….

What was left to do when you have a sociopath holding your waist with the same hands he had used to kill a man? Play along, even if you are terrified.

What had been your horrified face, slowly ends up in a smirk, tilting your head, squandering cheekiness. “I’m not your good girl, sir”

He slowly leaned back, taking a seat on the sage couch, one of his hands going straight to rest behind his head, against the wall. He twirled the knife against his knee, making you uneasy, but confident about your upcoming words.

“If I walk away, you can’t do much with me, I’m a foreigner. Sure the authorities would dismantle whatever dirty job you’re into and that’s a big no-no” you explain, and feeling a little too bold, you step between his legs.

“Your lack of ignorance amazes me” he admits, offering you a cocky smile. “It makes me even more infatuated”

Your left knee pushed aside his hand twirling the knife. He remained still but sure seemed slightly surprised when you ended up straddling him. With your hands glued to his dark tie, putting it into place.

“Hmm, well, be careful. I am no threat, I barely have valuable skills to get rid of you but I know I could be a problem. So I guess I won, sir…” you allow yourself to smile, following a path with your fingers, from his tie to his cheeks and nose, softly tracing his pale skin.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart” You knew he was trying to be in control, and the best part was that you weren’t fighting for it.

“There’s a lot I might not understand. I’m just a girl who happened to be in this city for a temporary academic project” When your lips brushed his, you couldn’t deny he was so fucking hot, you wished he wasn’t so weird and probably part of a mafia or cult or whatever. “You are the grown-ass man who got obsessed with me”

“I just find you an odd but interesting player, sweet girl” he tried to use his innocent smile but it was useless when you grabbed him by the shoulders and finally dared to kiss him.

He controlled it the moment he touched you again. His hands had a possessive sting and firmly grabbed you by the hips. One of them still holding the knife.

Feeling bold, with adrenaline flowing freely, you softly bit his lower lip. You knew it was over when he almost let out a moan, and after checking he had his eyes closed, you literally jumped away from him.

Without looking back, you started running. Your clumsy steps turn frantic, knowing damn well he would start following you soon. As you literally start pushing people to get out, your heart beats faster than ever and you have a growing anxiety, begging you to stop and breathe.

Once the cold air hit you, as you took a cab and saw no sign of your salesman, confusion struck you and you saw the blood in your chest and arm.

“Are you alright, girl?” The driver asked, also watching your bleeding state.

“Yes, just an accident, I’m okay” he nods unsure, but starts driving after you give him your destination.

His knife must’ve sliced your skin when you stood up from his lap. When he moved one of his big hands to caress your chin.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of your salesman. Although you should be; but you weren’t. Could it be that the worst part was that you were attracted to him? Even after watching him kill a man? You were screwed.

You realize the reason why you always ran away from him is because you don’t know how to face his unpredictable demeanor.

At that point, you didn’t know what he wanted. Only that he was obsessed with you. But his intentions remained a mystery unsolved.

Before getting out of the cab, you pay and send your friends a message that you left early because you got a headache after vomiting. This didn’t happen, but would’ve been better to experience it as a young woman in her twenties.

…

When you opened the door, he was already inside. The worst part is that you weren’t surprised anymore. You only stood at the feet of the door, looking at him with uneasiness.

“You got me worried,” he says, stopping his movements around your table. “You left some blood stains and I thought it was serious”

“You accidentally showed me your true nature. A little bit of blood shouldn’t scare you” his shirt indeed had some bloody spots, his blazer was gone, and the sleeves of his messy shirt were rolled up. You hated that your first thought was that he looked very hot.

He moved and took a seat at one of your tables. He sighed and you realized that perhaps he was also screwed up. For letting himself go too far for you.

“I don’t regret any encounter we’ve had,” he says. “Me neither”

He can’t stop staring at your bloodstained dress and you notice.

Fuck everything, you thought.

I’m attracted to him, he’s attracted to me, What’s the worst thing that could happen? (I don’t want to know).

“Silly boy, look what you did to me,” you say looking at the soaked fabric.

Something possessed you at that moment. Your hands went straight to lift your dress. His eyes trailed your sparkly underwear, your lower belly, and your ribs that rose and fell as you breathed.

Your hands twirl behind your back to unhook your bra; also soaked, throwing it to the floor.

Your salesman is quiet, his innocent smile about to fall because you know you have taken him by surprise.

Likely you’ll get a scar. The would-be slightly deep, an uneven line that passed from your neck to your shoulder.

You step forward, confidently eyeing him.

“Clean it” he tried to stand up, probably to grab a med kit but you stopped him with your heel. “With your mouth. Lick it clean…”

He gulped.

His manspread became the only thing you could care about. How he eyed you with lust and possession for some seconds, and then to lean forwards.

Once again his hands landed on the curves of your hips and he made you step up, leaving him inches away from you.

Your sudden surgation grew and his hot tongue finally made contact with your skin.

You savored the feeling of his tongue, knowing he wouldn’t clean anything but the semi-dry blood over your breast. He was only making a mess.

Then, he lifts his head and catches your lips in a sullied kiss. The way he held you, made you understand how he always wanted control. Above anything.

“I will be gone within time. You can ruin me while it lasts…” you blurt out, panting for air.

“I’ll ruin you. But I don’t want to rip you apart. That’s pointless…” he admits in your lips, blood near your chin that he wipes out. “You’re the most fun I’ve had in years. My little toy…”

“Alright, I’ll be your toy” he nods, kissing you again. “Know that my lips are sealed when it comes to you”

“And you won’t have to worry about anything again…” you moan on his lips when he pulls your hair and finally makes you lay on your once new carpet, now displaying some splotches of blood.

“I don’t need your money”

“Don’t you want to make your mother proud and relieved from student debts? From rent?” You can’t think straight. “It’s not correct…”

“None of this is, y/n. Now shut your mouth and spread your legs, toy”

It’s wrong, immoral, a complete madness. You know everything will change once the night dies and the morning comes. But as much as you tried to communicate to him that you weren’t scared, you knew it was over, you’ve gotten too deep into his shit.

“Farewell to my purity” you whisper in his ear and it’s enough to make his eyes turn darker, full of lust.

Everything that consoles purity would be gone from you. And the fact that you were ready scared you. But once his hands started meeting places across your body, you welcomed the sin.

As well as your mind seized thinking. Not caring about the consequences.

_______________________________________________

If you ask for more I will provide

Quién me manda a escribir estas mamadas? I’m just ovulating.

[all444miles]

— IN HER OWN LIL’ WORLD

— paring: e!42 miles x black!fem!reader

— genre: fluff

— summary: you can chat for the world, so you tell it all to none other than your boyfriend.

— a/n: the way this is a self insert bc when i tell u i can CHATTTTTT 😭 this is pretty much inspired by the song “love is only a feeling” (hence the title, that “she’s so perfect in her lil world”) so you might see a bit of lyric references in it. writing ts at 2am got me TIRED than a mf, but enjoy !!

You were a natural talker. You could talk for hours without getting tired. You could talk for the whole world, even. So you tell everything you want to say to your world, Miles. Miles loved everything about you. But when you would talk to him non-stop, and the way you’d articulate your words? Made his whole day.

“She came up to me tryna start sum, and you know I wouldn’t take that shi, so I had to deal wit her.” you explained, sitting on your boyfriend’s lap, his hands on your waist, as you continued to tell the story you had been telling Miles about for the past 26 minutes.

“Mami, you fought her?” he asked, his head cocking to the side and his eyebrows furrowed. “Das crazy, ain’t I said if you got a problem tell me?” You never really knew how, but whenever a person would cause you problems, Miles would always find a way to sort it out.

You tried to think to yourself, before you realised what he said to you just a ago week ago, catching your breath as you did so.

“Aight ma, after that fight, if you got any more beef wit somebody, for a good reason, you come to me, you heard?”

“Oh yeah..” you could hear a soft sigh coming from Miles and watched as he slightly shook his head, which made you smile. “That’s my bad. But she still deserved that shit.”

“So ima take it you won? Or else ima be even more annoyed.” he questioned you, raising an eyebrow, engaging himself more into the conversation.

You chuckled at his question, and your answer made him grin. “Of course I did! You ain’t never gon see me lose a fight.”

“That’s my girl. Now, tell me the rest.” you smiled at Miles as he waited for you to continue. You were always a talkative person, and Miles would always be the one to listen.

“You sure I ain’t talking yo ear off, baby?” you laughed quietly as you spoke, feeling the slightest bit self-conscious that you were talking too much. Miles, however, laughed at what you said.

“Mami, you always do, but I love it.”

“Ahora, no dejes que te detenga amor, sigue hablándome.” (Now, don't let me stop you love, keep talking to me.)

© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

[pjsk-writin]

Hgrelp its like 11pm n i got baptised but anyways

Can i request hc's (+ a small lil story) of the pjsk boys with a gn reader who like nEEDS to hold something while resting in bed/sleeping bc they've always been sleeping with a plushie n it feels weird for them to not hold sum and then when the boys ask the reader they don't wanna admit it but like the nexy time the chara comes into the readers room theyre just like sleeping w/ a plushie n they go like "oh so thats why"

Tldr; gn! Reader who alaays clings onto character bc it feels weird not to hold a plushie -> when character asks why the reader doesnt admit it -> but when character comes into the readers room to jand oht they see them cuddling w/ a plushie -> character fibally realizes why

HSIDEJ TY

FBSMKSF HELP ? but omg this is so cute....I hope u like this !! <3

♡ CLINGING IN SLEEP - Akito Shinonome, Toya Aoyagi, Tsukasa Tenma and Rui Kamishiro x Reader

Akito:

He would never admit it to you, but Akito gets really flustered any time you cling onto him in your sleep-

It's one of the main reasons why he asks you actually. Not that he doesn't like it, he just hates when you wake up and see him all flustered-

Much to his surprise, you get pretty flustered when he asks, dodging his question with a small laugh. Well, now he needs to know-

His investigation always fails...Until the day you let him hang out at your house. He discovers it rather quickly

"Hey, babe? Do you have-" He walked into your room, finding you clinging onto a plushie like a lifeline. "...Oh."

He grins, stepping closer and looking at the plushie in your hands. He takes a picture to tease you about it, but a part of him can't stop thinking about how cute you look <3

Toya:

Toya might get flustered by you clinging onto him, but he finds that it's really nice actually...You always make him feel so warm

He asks you out of pure curiosity, not wanting you to stop persay, more wanting to know just in case he's ever not there for you to cling onto

You dodge his question in response, and he just drops it because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable...

Luckily though, he gets the answer to his question when he hangs out at your house.

"Hon, are you okay?" He walked into your room, before pausing once he noticed you clinging onto a plushie, the exact same way you clung onto him. "Ah..."

He watched you sleep for a bit, before tucking you into bed properly, kissing your forehead and fixing the plushie in your hands. How adorable... <3

Tsukasa:

Tsukasa was absolutely ecstatic when he realized you cling onto him when you sleep. He loves affection, and it makes him happy any time you hug him close!

He asks you about it with a wide grin, finding the habit a cute little quirk of yours

You end up dodging his question, and he pesters you about it before huffing. Fine then, he'll find out! A future star can solve mysteries on his own!

He figures it out when you invite him to hang out, and he's ecstatic

"My favorite co-star! Are you?-" He cut himself off when he saw you clinging onto a plushie, and his eyes widened before sparkling at the sight. "Aha!"

He keeps quiet, tip-toeing up to your side to see the plushie you were clinging onto. He grins and pats your head and its head, already planning to show you his own plushies <3

Rui:

Rui absolutely melts whenever you cling onto him in your sleep. He tries to hide it, but the wide grin on his face shows it quite obviously.

He asks you about it one day to tease you, that same amused grin on his face as he asked you

You dodged his question, which made him poke and tease you even more about it. Don't worry, he's sure to find out soon...

And that he does, once he hangs out at your house one day

"Dearest, do you happen to have a screw?-" He paused once he saw you sleeping, clinging onto your plushie. "Oh my...What do we have here?"

He absolutely memorizes the plushie's look so that he can tease you about it, but he spends his time watching you with a small smile. He envies the plushie in that moment <3

[saeun]

don't ignore me, snookums childe, al haitham, heizou.

sum. what happens when u dare ignore them

childe 'ajax'

★ quiz time! childe notices you've grown a little distant. now he turns on his thinking machine to assist him in this journey! while brainstorming ideas he came across three options, which one did he choose (5 points) ☆

a) he goes to your house with a bouquet of pink camellias.

b) stalks you for five days and then sends teucer to the café you're visiting to lure you back to him

c) pulls you into a random alley when you're strolling around and demands why you've been ignoring him

childe chose... option b!

he's the typa man to use his younger siblings (which you love) to deliver messages to you. so in conclusion, he dressed up teucer as a mail man and made him go over to your residence.

childe would use all petnames available to make you talk to him.

"honey munchkin, please talk to me my sweet lovely slime"

you honestly cannot ignore this man. he's too funny.

"oh? is that a giggle from my skrunky??"

he goes on with that for another two hours until you gave up.

alhaitham

notices immediately when you're ignoring him. will give you a side eye because why are you ignoring him?? + also wants to see how long you can go without talking to him so he plays along.

a fun fact: he cannot go long without being near you but his pride is too high to give up.

he gives up after a week and invites himself over to your dorm.

stomps his way over to your room and sits on your desk chair.

"hi. did you forget you have a boyfriend?" haitham probably said it more like a statement rather than a question tbh

you don't answer him at all & tries to leave the room so that results in a scoff from him.

wraps one hand around your waist and pulls you onto his lap.

"i don't know about you but i'm pretty sure i'm not a door."

you make the mistake of smiling and he teases you bc of that

"don't try me, haitham my sweet potato."

heizou shikanoin

pulls up to your house staring at the door with his hands on his hip. if you have a doorbell, he'll ring it until it no longer works..!

he doesn't care if the rain's gonna fall. heizou is standing there until you open that door.

the typa man to slide down the door with one hand beating his chest while the other wipes his invisible tears.

HONESTLY you didn't even notice he's outside....

when you open the door he either pulls a sad persona or looks at you up and down.

"now, y/n, my sugars, why are you ignoring me??"

you let him in (still ignoring) and he clings onto you until you give up.

[lnsfawwi]

bucky is anti-peggy: their relationships with steve and why bucky will always overshadow peggy as love interest

hardly anything novel but I have to get it out of my system. interpretations are strictly in-universe just to be fair. also seb headcanons are canon, I won't hear otherwise!

the difference between stucky and steggy can be summed up by their respective reactions to beefed-up Steve. someone on tumblr points out that these two scenes also serve as analogies of their relationships. steggy would always be about peggy reaching out, their relationship would be under the spotlight, be the center of attention while stucky is the reverse. I just want to add to that.

Peggy was literally dazzled, she tried to touch his naked body, she was eager to see what this body could do (sexually, among other things). that's the first time she saw steve as sexually attractive, the first time she saw steve at all if we are honest, and what she saw was this jacked-up version of him, an icon-to-be, someone whom steve never really accepted as himself. In essence, the first time she really paid attention to steve as the love interest, was the moment steve became someone else.

Bucky, who was tortured for days, if not weeks, still delirious, was confused bc that was not his steve, he probably didn't even think Steve was real at first. Bucky was experimented on, he likely knew there were similar human experiments aimed to enhance, he knew science like that was possible, but whose science? so that's the first question, 'what happened?' Steve joined the army, okay, so this was not forced onto him, probably. then the next thing he asked was, 'did it hurt?' he didn't care how strong it made Steve, he only wanted assurance that Steve was fine. like, what if the process hurt? what could bucky possibly do? nothing. it's not about whether it hurt, it was just bucky simply giving a shit about steve's wellbeing. we don't even need to get into the 'little kid from brooklyn' line.

peggy witnessed a magical transformation and was amazed by the eventual product but bucky saw his best friend who must've gotten through something excruciating. peggy could never fall in love with skinny steve when that's all bucky saw, until the very end (sebastian said bucky probably never got used to big steve).

another contrast would be the final plane crash. sebastian was asked whether Bucky would've gotten on that plane with Steve or stayed behind like Peggy. seb's answer is that Bucky would've tried to get on that plane cuz he felt responsible for steve, and he'd fall again.

the thing is that, had Bucky been on that plane, Steve never would've crashed it. he would've done anything to save Bucky. he didn't have to crash that plane which was canon (pointed out by rhodey). steve could've got out but he didn't. Bucky being there would've given him the motivation to do so. any other person would tbh, but only Bucky would be willing to be on that plane bc Peggy canonly wasn't. in addition to bucky's willingness to follow steve literally into the jaws of death, in this hypothetical scenario, Bucky would be the reason for Steve to live in catfa.

that leads to yet another contrast.

'just go! get out of here!' 'no, not without you!'

steve, who had no idea what he was capable of, jumped through fire for bucky.

'don't do this, there's still time, let me find a way...' 'a lot of people are gonna die if I don't do this, peggy. this's my choice.'

despite peggy's pleading, steve crashed the plane.

the word choice appeared several times in catfa. the first time was when peggy told philip that it was steve's choice (to die trying to save bucky). the second time was when peggy told steve that bucky made a choice (to die fighting with him). and the third time was when steve told peggy it was his choice (to sacrifice himself). it's no coincidence that each and every time the choice was each other, steve echoing the word at the end made it clear that he was doing this for bucky.

a relationship goes both ways. steve and bucky are canonly willing to, and did, die and live for each other. peggy simply doesn't have that level of impact on steve. in fact, steve literally repeatedly chose bucky over her in catfa.

put it simply, bucky and steve care more about each other than themselves, peggy didn't even care about skinny steve in that sense. she also literally couldn't because she only met skinny steve twice. briefly.

plus as I said previously bucky is the only one standing in between a traditional cishet hypermasculine image of steve and the real steve, peggy is the one element that fulfils the false image.

everything bucky is, peggy is the opposite. the differences quite literally result in different interpretations of steve. and who can say honestly that endgame steve is better than cap trilogy steve？

[woncon]

➳ bunnytalk

➶ bunny!jungkook x owner gn!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ your hybrid is acting strange lately. When you're not enough to help, you call Seokjin over to check on Jungkook. The diagnosis is shocking.

➴ genre: hybrid au, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, vet!seokjin, shy!jk

: ̗̀➛ warnings: jk is a bunny hybrid, reader is anxious bc jk's sadness

⌨ :: 2.4K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ thanks to @wonsheep for helping me fix my grammar mistakes and for giving me advice how to convert a whole story into another language precisely °♡̷•.

➳ bts masterlist | main masterlist

You ran through the aisles of the store as if you were being chased. And you really were, but the thing giving you chase had already caught up: the gray anxiety was perched on your shoulders, pressing along your joints like a sloppy masseur.

Salad. No need for a doctor, just a salad.

This was your mantra, with which you tried to control the despair, to slow down the panic that insinuated into your blood. With trembling fingers, you shoved the right products into your basket, and then you were already scrambling for the next ingredient.

Carrot, lettuce, cucumber, tomato, purple cabbage, corn - as Jungkook likes it. As soon as you had everything, you hurried to the cash register. The marble screeched under your feet as you suddenly stopped to avoid bumping into the person in front of you in the line. The man turned to you in disdain, but that was the least of your concerns right then. You had to make the salad: that was the most important thing. The fact that you were dead tired, that you did not plan on coming to the store, what you wanted to do half an hour ago, or what the guy thinks is completely negligible.

The only person standing before you in line was that guy, and he didn't buy anything other than some yogurt, bread and beer, still, you felt that the slowing factors took too long. For example, the cashier boy who scanned the products you were about to buy with a broad half-smile.

"Light dinner?"

"Yeah. For my hybrid."

Before the boy could speak - forcing his phone number into your hand, asking for a date or keeping you there with questions or more words - you stuffed the last carrot into your bag, scattering the money in front of the other.

"Bye!"

You dashed out of the store into the early evening cool, and ran home.

You hoped something had changed, but no. Jungkook was still curled up on the sofa, unmoving. Taking one look at him was enough to increase your concerns. You threw yourself into the kitchen. The vegetables were scattered on the counter, the tools clattered from the drawer to them, and the water was gurgling noisly from the tap. Your hair and clothes stuck to your sweaty skin. Fear gripped your heart like a baby holding onto its mother.

No need for a doctor. I can solve it myself.

Although you worked hard, and almost cutting your skin in your rush, the encouraging thought meant less and less, your hope faded into inconceivability with the passing of time.

"Kook? What's wrong?" The boy could always turn to you with his problems, and this turned out to be valid the other way around as well. Jungkook's wise insight and cheerful attitude have helped you a lot since you started living together. In addition to the owner-hybrid relationship, you were also roommates and friends.

When you first saw Jungkook on the couch, you thought he was sleeping. In the beginning of you two living together, the boy often slept with his eyes open, closing them only after full trust had been established. By the way, this wouldn't have been the first time that he fell asleep on the couch. But this was different. You wanted to tuck him in, and the boy's gaze focused on you, then he stared ahead again, uninterested. He also blinked.

He wasn't asleep at all.

Jungkook didn't answer. You weren't freaked out yet. Jungkook had instinctive actions and behaviors, but he was unable to verbalize them. He once summed it up by saying that in such cases the rabbit is the master, who only communicates through action.

"If you can't talk about it, just nod or shake your head." You waited half a minute. "Did I hurt you with something?"

You were about to caress his arm, but Jungkook pushed you away before you could touch him. Then you understood, something really must have happened. Not only was the boy not in the mood, he didn't want any of your company either. This has never happened before. In addition, the warning signs were lining up: him cowering, ears flattened, rejecting your approach.

The boy's rabbit self emphasized his condition. You heard somewhere - in a documentary, from a doctor friend, or maybe from one of your exes, who knows - that rabbits can be sick and depressed if they show these symptoms and don't eat.

So you, as soon as you realized, you jumped up, pulled your coat back on as you had just taken it off, and whirled through the streets to make Jungkook's favorite salad. Because if he eats, you won't have to be afraid, you would be enough to help.

The meal was ready in twenty minutes. Sighing, you headed into the living room to regulate your breathing. You couldn't know if you were overreacting or if such intense distress was justified. You were sure of one thing: how important Jungkook is to you, along with his physical and mental health.

"Kook?" You knelt in front of the couch again, this time balancing the dish you prepared. The hybrid didn't even turn to look at you now. You felt your heart cramp up. "Please." You put your elbow on the edge of the couch, pushing the plate closer to him. "Eat up."

If something didn't happen then, you would have cried. But luckily, Jungkook reacted: his nose moved, crinkling sweetly. He smelled the salad. Then his eyes searched for the source of the scent, but his hands still didn't reach for it. You already considered this a big step forward, you were a little relieved: when you put the first bite in Jungkook's mouth, you felt better. Jungkook started chewing. The sounds of his munching was music to your ears.

You didn't speak, but the more the boy ate, the more lively he became. His black ears slowly rose, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position too. Jungkook put the last lettuce leaf and piece of carrot in his mouth with his own hand. You sat next to him and watched him happily. You didn't dare to touch him yet.

After finishing the meal and placing the bowl next to the couch, the hybrid crouched down next to you uncertainly, seemingly trying to say something, but in the end he just nudged your upper arm with his nose, pushed it, then ducked under, still poking the body part. Jungkook let you know in rabbit language that he needed care and caress. You smiled, running your fingers through the boy's hair, fluffy ears nuzzling your neck as Jungkook snuggled into your shoulders, his muscular arms wrapped around your waist, cuddling close. You caressed his face, his shoulders, all along his back. The bunny grinded his teeth in satisfaction.

Everything was resolved, order was restored, you thought.

You were wrong.

Whatever was weighing down on Jungkook's soul, the problem didn't go away, the salad was merely a distraction for him. You were confronted with this the next morning, as the boy curled up in a lethargic state on the edge of the bed. Somehow you knew that salad wasn't going to help anymore here. The boy's entire body tensed up as if he was an angry stone statue.

There was no question that you wouldn't go to work. You rang your boss in your pajamas to tell him you were taking the day off. The latter reacted with complete understanding. Immediately after the end of the conversation, you called your doctor friend to come over.

"Y/N, you know it takes two for a hybrid. A doctor specializing in humans and a veterinarian. I'm only the latter. Namjoon is currently operating, so you need to wait."

"You will be enough. I can't bring Kook in. He doesn't move, doesn't speak. I think he has more rabbit-like problems."

"Okay, I'll be there in twenty to twenty-five minutes. Stay with him until then."

"I'm not going anywhere."

You did as you said. You carelessly threw your phone on the couch and retreated to the bedroom, laying down next to Jungkook. You scanned his stiff back muscles, and now you were completely devastated because you didn't know how to help. You wanted to give him at least a comforting hug to let him know you were there for him, but your approach was rebuffed with a grunt. Jungkook didn't want any of your company again.

Seokjin arrived as he promised, but for you, time was slowed down by your own grinding agony and terrifying visions. Hearing the knocking, however, time jolted back a little into its place. You jumped up and ran to the door. The man came in a doctor's coat, carrying a bag.

"Come." You grabbed Seokjin's hand, who would've protested and said something about his shoes. "It doesn't matter, just come."

You basically dragged him into the bedroom. Like a melancholic painting, there Jungkook was: in rolled up blankets, just staring at the wall. No happy colors, just gray, black and sad blue.

"Please, help him!" You dropped onto the bed, whispering your plea to your guest, who nodded and approached the patient.

"Hi, Jungkook. I'm going to run some routine tests on you, okay?"

"In this current condition, he doesn't like to be touched." You warned Seokjin.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you." He put his hand on Jungkook's shoulder. The boy didn't react, just tolerated it.

Seokjin then checked his breathing, body temperature, and heart rate.

"That would be it, rest easy!" Seokjin headed outside and motioned for you to follow him with a jerk of his head. You obeyed. The man closed the door and settled down on the living room sofa. You sat down next to him, wringing your hands.

"What's up with him?"

"He's warm, but no fever. His heart rate is high, but that could also be from stress. I don't see any signs of sickness, but something really freaked him out. How long has he been like this?"

"I noticed yesterday when I came home that Jungkook was lying on the sofa and not moving. It's possible that he had been sitting like that for a long time. I made him a salad, then he got up and ate, but this morning he was curled up again."

"Didn't he get some sort of shock? Wasn't he acting strange before?"

You were about to say no when you remembered the past week and the incident the morning before.

"He pokes me a lot with his chin, bites me and licks my skin. Sometimes he even nips me. And after he got up yesterday, he ran around me like five times. In the meantime, he made a strange oinking sound."

You still remembered the boy's sparkling eyes when he stopped, his raised ears, his sniffing nose. His body stiffened with excitement. You didn't know how to react, so you just smiled and went to make your coffee.

And Seokjin started laughing. You stared at him in disbelief. The man snorted, still chuckling. You were about to punch him on the shoulder, but Seokjin - to his luck - spoke up.

"He loves you very much."

You knew that, you loved him too. But the way Seokjin emphasised his words somehow suggested something else.

"What do you mean?"

"You are his human owner. You act like one most of the time. To Jungkook, however, you are no longer just an owner. Biting and licking in rabbit language means a love confession. He also marked you with the scent glands under his chin as his property. And running means clear courtship. Since you didn't reciprocate that, he has to process that you rejected him, and it's hard when you're always around, wanting to touch him."

You had a revelation.

"I didn't know. If I had known - How can I undo it?"

"Why? You love him in the romantic sense?"

That was a pretty straightfoward question, but you knew the answer very well.

"Damn it! Yes! I'm head over heels for him. And yes, I do want to be with him. So how do I change my no to a yes?" All this flooded out of you: you were worried and nervous, you couldn't help it. You were at your wits end because of your own helplessness.

"Jungkook is not acting like a human right now. First, you have to make yourself understood by the rabbit living inside, only then you can tell the person your feelings. You have to become a rabbit and reciprocate the gestures with which he expressed himself to you."

Seokjin gave you instructions, then left. You were very grateful, but you couldn't express it properly yet, first you had to express something else to someone else.

You returned to the bedroom to confess to Jungkook with bunny talk. You laid down next to him again, this time taking care not to touch him with your hands, as you weren't needed as an owner or as a human. You swallowed nervously, then ventured closer to Jungkook's nape.

You bit him gently. Almost immediately after that, both of Jungkook's ears perked up, his body was tense in a different way: he was listening intently. Feeling thousands of butterflies with wings of hope in your body, you ventured further, licking along his artery. After this action, you moved away, blushing.

Jungkook sat up, facing you. His gaze was clear, peaceful, maybe a little disappointed, but mostly knowledge was visible in it.

"I love you."

"I know. Like a friend. I understand now."

"No." You scrambled to your feet, pulling him with you. You took some measurements to fit between Jungkook and the bed, moving him to the position you wanted to.

Then you ran around him several times, trying to imitate the strange sound that Jungkook also made, the kind of cooing.

When you stopped, your heart was pounding like a speeding train... Or like a rabbit hybrid who had just confessed their love.

"I love you," you whispered weakly. "I love you in this sense."

A huge grin appeared on Jungkook's face as he suddenly took you in his arms, spinning you around in the room and then finally threw himself along with you onto the bed.

In his happiness, he also did something that you as his owner and as a human immediately understood: he kissed you. Tenderly, softly, truly in love, and at the same time he held your face in the palm of his hand. As he leaned away, he covered his flushed face with his fluffy ears. He laughed.

"Kook..."

You were beautiful with a pleading blush. And your heart belonged to Jungkook.

So he kissed you again.

[bugcatcherkit]

having mrs suzuki thoughts again. specifically i always thought of her leaving as smth that she’d intended to be temporary. bc it was in direct response to toichirou saying that he Does have the power to control people, because he’s strong enough that he can just Make them do what he wants. and it was both an assertion of a boundary (“i will not tolerate this behavior. if you continue to act like this, i will remove myself from the situation”) and a direct response to toichirou’s stated belief (“oh yeah? control this, asshole”). and i think that her intention was to make him think about himself and what he was trying to accomplish and the consequences his actions have on himself and everyone around him, and that she’d originally intended to come back when he came to his senses. and COMPLETELY underestimated his total refusal to ever question or consider anything ever.

(btw i think shou’s murder attempt was if not the same, then at least a very similar principle. bc if it had really been about killing toichirou, he probably would’ve just “played the obedient son” and poisoned him or smth. but it wasn’t! it was about confronting him and trying to force him to understand and deal with the consequences of his actions, especially wrt the people who cared about him most! the message being communicated was “look! you’re going so dangerously overboard that even your son, who cares about you, who is still trying to reason with you, is willing to kill you if that’s what it takes to get you to stop!”) (and it just completely flies over toichirou’s head)

sorry for rambling but u know how it is with the suzukis

HI I FINALLY GOT TIME TO ANSWER THIS. I think you summed it up well though !!!

I definitely believe it was supposed to be temporary! It really plays out like a spur-of-the-moment thing, where she suddenly realizes Toichiro is not really who she Believed he was (<- she had a certain image of him in her head I think) and also that would not listen to her WORDS at all. So she had to do something impactful.

Their relationship was very important to them both, and I believe she expected her Absence to lead Toichiro to self-reflect and FINALLY push himself to change so they could KEEP it. But he sucks. And he was already so wound up in the power fantasy that he ignored anything he could not rationalize with it. You can't exactly make semi-divorce seem like a Super Epic Protagonist Battle.

She was making a point to him!!! Showing him that his idea of psychic power being absolute was WRONG because people have power over themselves (free will). Her leaving is like the physical culmination of everything she had been suggesting to him up until then (that he could change, if he CHOSE to).

She has a whole thing about free will. He was supposed to realize he does not, actually, have power over everyone. He ONLY has power over himself, just like everyone else. To think otherwise hurts himself and everyone around him because only focusing on power meant he didn't care about anything else. But yeah she totally overestimated his ability to Self Reflect and also Be Considerate. Aforementioned image she projected onto him, I think (not normal).

and that is where Shou gets it I BELIEVE!!!!!!! The thing with him is that. Like when you said his parents were his only examples and he kind of had to work with what he knew through them.

His philosophy (of kindness and free will and righteousness etc etc etc) was heavily based on what Mrs. Suzuki is shown to believe in, and this is what he based his opposition to Toichiro's ideals on.

Though, he also had to oppose his mom's Methods in favour of Toichiro's in this process. So he was kind of opposing them both while also Not at all doing that. Because he learned from them and was influenced by them. As per the themes. BUT ALSO with that its like. Nothing Shou did was ever really for himself or because of himself and it makes me. ggrhrgrge.

I forgot what else I was gonna say. Suzuki family drives me insane <3

[seraphtrevs]

for the ask game…brbabcs? (either the combined universe or whichever of the shows individually) 💕

I'm just going to do a mishmash of whatever happens to come to my mind lol - STREAM OF CONSCIOUS POSTING INCOMING

my favorite female character - over the whole brbabcs, obviously it's Kim. She was a great character from episode one, but they really cemented her as the Character of All Time with her fall from grace in season 6. She's so complicated and layered, achingly human and relatable, but also extraordinary, which makes her compelling to watch.

She's a hard character to sum up because she's so nuanced, but I think what draws me to her the most is her deep rage at injustice. Her fall is ironic because it was that desire to make the world "right" that led her to betray her core values - but honestly, who can blame her? Haven't we all wished that the Howard Hamlins of the world would suffer consequences too, instead of consequences being only reserved for people who were born in the "wrong" race/gender/class? But at the same time, embarrassing one Howard Hamlin is not actually the same thing as making systemic changes, and her desire to punish him was a personal vendetta, not actual justice. I totally get how the two got mixed up in her head, though.

I'm also a big Skyler fan - more on her later

my favorite male character - For BCS, it's Lalo lol. I don't think he's the BEST character, but sometimes it feels like Peter Gould got the gang together and was like, "Listen, tumblr user seraphtrevs has been having a hard time - why don't we write a character that is specifically tailored to all of her deepest, darkest, and horniest desires?" And lo, they did. He's so charming and cheerful and evil and funny and so so SO hot - I was doomed from the very first paca paca paca 😭

Side note, I think i'm such a villain girlie because I'm so anxious. Characters who don't worry about anything except doing what they want are very fun for me to watch. Imagine the bliss of not caring! *_*

For brba, the character I have the most affection for is Jesse, but Jesse is made to be loved. So instead...I'm going to pick Walt. He is the worst man who has ever lived and I completely get why people can't stomach him. My own husband tapped out of brba because he found Walt unbearable IN SEASON ONE.

So as a person, yes, Walt is the worst. But as a character? He's unparalleled. He makes things happen, which I think a very underrated character trait (and one that a lot of writers overlook). Walt is an infernal engine, a perpetual motion machine, a catalyst of catalysts. Things HAPPEN when he's around, which makes him a really fantastic character.

The other thing I really appreciate about Walt is that Vince Gilligan really stuck to his guns. He said he wanted to tell a story about Mr. Chips becoming Scarface, and by god that's what he did. A big problem with a lot of "antihero" shows is that they are often way too sympathetic to their protagonists and fall for their bullshit. And while a lot of the audience for brba fell for walt's bullshit, the writers were always very clear-eyed about what they were doing.

my favorite book/season/etc - an impossible question for bcs. all seasons are tied for best except season 2, which was a little tiny bit less good but only because it was necessary to set up the rest of the show's run, so actually it is also tied for best. I guess if you put a gun to my head, I'd say season 5 because it's the Lalo season

brba is an easier call - it's for sure season 4.

my favorite episode (if its a tv show) - for brba, I'll say The Fly, not necessarily because it's my favorite (too many favorites to choose from) but because I love character work, and that ep is all character work. Also, it's a good illustration of what I was talking about in my walt answer - it's an episode where "nothing" happens (or so claim Fly detractors!)...but making things happen doesn't have to mean making BIG things happen. Walt's monomania and willingness to do whatever it takes to "win" over something as stupid as a little fly shows what makes him such a great character

my favorite cast member - for brba, i think it's pretty widely known that bryan cranston and aaron paul have merged into one being, so I choose bryaaron.

for bcs, it's bob odenkirk. the entire show - or even the entire brbabcs universe, actually - rests on jimmy. like i know i just said that was walt, and it is for brba. but i think that now that bcs is done, you can make the argument that jimmy is actually the character that it was "about" (actually I'd put Kim in there too). Walt was always morally black, but Jimmy was genuinely morally gray for much of the series, and he maintained a human core that Walt lost. I think Jimmy and Kim are more relatable. (Not to leave Jesse out, bc out of the four of them Jesse is the most sympathetic in a lot of ways. But I feel like his story was more of a survival story, like Skyler's, and not so much a story about moral failure. Like yeah for sure jesse had tons of moral failures, but that never seemed to be the POINT of jesse, like it was the point of walt, jimmy, and kim.)

my favorite ship - for bcs, it's a tie between lacho and mcwexler. for brba, it's waltjesse.

i haven't talked about nacho at all so far which seems weird because I have a LOT of nacho thoughts (see my tag #nacho christ superstar). i feel like the cartel plot is like, the heightened version of the lawyer plot. or that's not right exactly - not heightened as in better, but heightened as more dramatic, more extreme, more literal. so lacho to me is like, what if you really were in bed with the devil? (i mean, maybe literal is the wrong word because he's not LITERALLY the devil, but lalo is a much more straightforward, morally UNambiguous character who is the personification of the evils of the cartel. so like. more literal. you know what i mean.) (plus i'm so horny for both of them. 😭😭😭😭😭)

mcwexler is the best on screen, canon romance i've ever seen. period.

as i've said before, waltjesse is the six-in-one shampoo/bodywash/conditioner of toxic relationships. jesse is walt's student/business partner/best friend/worst enemy/mistress/wife/son/dog. how can you NOT love something that twisted?

a character I’d die defending - SKYLER. Fortunately tumblr has the right attitude, but it still blows my mind that anyone could judge her for what she went through. walt destroyed her life - every action she took was her trying to protect herself and her children. what she went through was pure nightmare fuel, and it astonishes me that anyone could think she was ever unsympathetic

a character I just can’t sympathize with/a character I grew to love - someone sent me an ask just about these, so i'll save these for later! this is already so long lmao

my anti otp - I don't really have any for the brbabcs verse! in general, i'm openminded about even off-the-wall ships because fandom is for fun, and no one in this fandom has ever annoyed me with some of the shipping behavior you get from bigger, more annoying fandoms

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Hello! i was wondering if you could write me a req bc i saw your reqs r open (bc I ✨respectfully✨ suck booty at writing)

basically, reader made friends with Ghost while working together on deployment, and became friends, they hang out sometimes bc they live kinda close, blah blah blah. then, Ghost doesn't hear from reader in months (which isn't normal, bc they text like once a month, just to make sure one another is okay when they can). then, one day, in the middle of a meeting Ghost gets a call from an unfamiliar number and almost ignores it until he sees that the area code is the one reader lives in, so he decides to answer it. boom, guess what? the reader is in the hospital, sustained r/srs injuries, and is in need of emergency surgery, and the reader made Ghost the emergency contact (lets also say they traded dog tags bc fluff?)

homie gets all sad bc Reader might die and is in a mini coma, blah blah blah, realized he r in love w the reader, and uh

you can decide whether or not the reader dies and what happens next

i fr scream YIPEEE when i saw your req open, i adore your writing, like top tear, makes me cry but laugh and scream bc how are you so good?! srs, im so jelly of your writing! okay anyways, hope you have a lovely day, you dont have to do this is you dont want or if im jus a silly fucker and mis read and your reqs r closed or sum

Hellloooo! Thank you SO MUCH for the beautiful compliments and for this request <3 I loved it so much I started writing the day you sent it to me. But since it's very emotionally charged, it took me a little while to finish and I'm sorry bout that, and I rly hope you're still around and eager to read it!!! Well, there it is, my take on ur req, hope you like it.

Take me back (to the night we met) | Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

✦Word count: 2.1k ✦ Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley xf!reader ✦Summary: Simon gets a call from the hospital saying that you are hospitalized, in a coma and in great life risk. ✦ TW and general warnings: sensitive topics, lots of angst, fluff though, death implications, open ending, sad af read at ur own risks cuz i'm crying in my room rn;

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met

“Johnny and I make our entrances fast. I clear the way, he goes front, three of you get in by the back and we surround the site to get enough space for the hostages to come out. Any questions?” Ghost asks sternly, as is the usual of his tone especially coming down to work. He was being brutally professional at the moment - if there was rather a sign of an existing Simon, it was gone the moment he got inside the briefing room. Silence follows for the next seconds while the crew seems to be pondering over what he said, analyzing the map over the big round table sticking to the center of the room.

As it is expected, no questions. He nods with his head assuming by the silence that they’re all understood.

“Our orders are to neutralize any individual we find on the site whose face doesn’t match with our hostages, which means we do it fast before they get the chance to call for reinforcements. We don’t wanna make a mess out of this.” Price then continues his own talking, marking X’s over the tactic map and giving the next orders to every one of them. It is when Gaz opens his mouth to say something, that Simon’s phone rings for the third time in a row. He curses mentally - he muted his phone the first time; now, it was vibrating in his pocket. Awkwardly, the vibration itself is heard by everyone in the room and they turn their eyes on him almost instantly.

“Hell.” He curses out in a low voice before shaking his head. “My apologies, Captain.” His voice tries its best not to come out too annoyed, but he fails and it does; despite the timing being inconvenient, no one seems to be bothered. Johnny furrows his brows in concern, and looks over at Price, who seems to have the same, perhaps even more intense, look on his face.

Ghost mentions to pull out and turn off his phone once again, but Price is quick to intervene.

“Riley.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Third time in a row; seems like somethin’ serious, get out and pick up.” He states comprehensively.

Despite being slightly reluctant, Ghost agrees - it must be something serious. What, he couldn't come to imagine - but if for a moment in his life he had something close to a hunch, it was now, and it said he should take that call.

“Alright, one minute. Move on without me.” He nods and leaves the room, phone in hand and a worried sigh leaving his nostrils. When the door closes behind him and he walks a bit further down the hallway, he picks up.

“Yes?”

“Is this Lieutenant Simon Riley?” A feminine voice asks from the other side. Sounds in the background, beeps and small, muffled voices.

“Affirmative, who’s this?” He frowns.

“This is from the Special Forces Manchester Hospital, are you familiar with the name- hmm…” She seems to be taking a couple seconds to read, and continues saying your name. 

He freezes in place.

How long has it been since he last heard this name? How long has it been since you vanished like thin air, disappeared, stopped calling or answering? Busy. That’s what he thought. Busy with work, busy with anything. The two of you had always been two busy people, in a desperate need for time.

For a moment, in those torturous seconds of silence, Simon found himself praying to a God he wasn't even sure he believed in, that this nurse wouldn't tell him you’re dead.

“Yes.” It’s all he manages to say, with his eyes running down to the ground in a dead stare. Dead eyes. He gulps, after the despair in his chest makes him speak once again, “Why?”

“Well- sir, you’re her emergency number, we’re calling because we couldn’t manage any family members… She’s in a coma. She was severely injured in combat, and [...]”

His heart stops, like it never did before. He doesn't react, his eyes look around as if he's searching for something - as if searching for his own reaction hidden somewhere within that empty hallway. The weight of your dog tag around his neck seems to be suffocating him now. 

To his silence, the woman continues.

“[...] it’s… currently sort of impossible to predict her state within the next few days, she’s fighting but struggling lots; can you come over?” 

“Yes.” He sharply replies, immediately. His eyes are still on the ground as he closes his eyes, and nods. “I’ll be on my way, yes.” 

“Good.” She replies, and he turns off.

For a moment, he stops to breathe; Ghost wipes his hand over his mouth in a somewhat guilty expression, he should have reached for you. He should have reached you the instant he missed you, your calls. 

“Hell…” He shuts his eyes for a moment, his heart stings like he’s poisoned, it hurts - some sort of pain he swears to god, he probably never felt before. Not when he lost his training dog, nor when he lost friends before - maybe because there were always a lingering possibility between the two of you. It was nothing but a friendship, never had been - but every word, every phrase was full of underlines of sentiment, an immense desire to reveal his interior and spit out the fears he refused to speak about to anyone else.

It's the possibility that kills him now. Even after all this time, not for a second did you cease to exist in his troubled and saddened mind. Suppressed by all the worries and feelings he thought were more important than you.

Not for a moment did he stop thinking about that pleasant end to his career, the retirement he knew he deserved, a house at least isolated from the rest of the world with trees and streams, the snow falling when winter comes and the sun scorching the land. land when summer finally arrived. You, on the front porch. 

You.  You.

When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet Oh, take me back to the night we met

You were leaning back on the sofa, your legs stretched out by the small table that marked the space between you and the balcony railing of his apartment.

The rain fell calmly, some thunder, but few drops. The sound of them falling against the roofs of the houses below the level where you were was echoing in your ears, and he seemed busy drawing patterns among the heavy clouds that covered the sky. 

He gave up trying to find any stars in that rainy sky and found comfort in finding your eyes instead. They were already watching him, almost expecting him to say something, even though the silence between two of you usually speaks volumes more than words itself; you’ve never been good with them, much less him. 

Simon looked down at your dog tag, lying brightly on your bust exposed by the tank top you wore. 

“What do you want to do after retiring?” He asked, his voice calm, his eyes almost closed. He took your necklace between his fingers calmly, and watched your shiny name exposed on the icy metal.

“Gotta be honest with you, can’t see myself retiring.” You replied, with your usual brutal honesty - something he particularly always liked so much about you. “What about you?” 

You don’t mind him, you allow.

“Don’t know.” He was, too, brutally honest. “Seek fuckin’ forgiveness for my sins before I die and end up in hell, I suppose.” 

You laughed.

“Oh, fuck. Gonna die trying to find that, mate.” You admit, raising your eyebrows in another big sip of your beer. “We’re all going to hell… At least we’ll all party there together.” You sounded fun, and your eyes turned into little lines with the genuine smile you let out when noticed that he too laughed at your joke. 

“We’re partyin’? Tell me Johnny isn’t going…”

“He’s my first guest.” You laugh harder.

“Thought that’d be me.” 

“You hate parties.” You raised your eyebrows.

“I don’t hate you.”

You silently smiled and looked away. 

“Fair enough.”

When it came to the two of you, there was nothing but connotation.

You could spend hours in that apartment alone with him - and you did. Did plenty of times, and yet, among subtle touches and heartfelt conversations, the end would be the same. Not in his bed, not in yours: by the door, with a rueful look and smile on your face. 

With a held back hug you never gave, a held back kiss you never allowed and an uncertain goodbye before departing on a mission that could take your or his life.

There was a phone call, once.

He called you late in the night. He was drunk. Too drunk. 

“I’m scared.” His voice was low, fluttering, like those cold days he’d be waiting for his dad’s arrival in his bed, under the covers, terrified and alone. “I’m scared. Can- can I see you? Can I come over, please?” 

As you hugged him on the couch in your own apartment now - that huge, strong, self-sufficient man collapsing in your lap like a baby in need of comfort, your heart was never right about anything like it was right about loving him. In that moment you knew it, you were fucking lost, taken, desperately in love.

You departed; you gave him your dog tag, he gave you his. A memory, an attempt. Do not forget me, you said. Don’t you dare forget me if I die, Simon Riley.

“I didn’t.” 

He looks at you with regret. The devices that help you breathe keep him from seeing you fully, whole - but still behind all those hospital beeps and sounds, you're still as beautiful as the first time he saw you.

He wants to go back to the past. Reverse everything he did, redo it from scratch; the first time he saw you, the first time he felt his heart ache listening to you talk about another man, all the times he repressed his feelings and swore not to love you.

“I want to be with you.” He mutters, his eyes emptily stare down your almost lifeless hand resting over his. “After I retire. I want to be with you.” He says again, closing his eyes, shutting them tight like he’s trying his very best to repress the tears he wants so bad to let fall. 

“I fuckin’ need you- I- how did this happen, how did you…” He gasps as the clock ticks, low, the sound of the hands ringing like doomsday inside his head. Every second that passed was one less with you. There are twenty minutes left for you to enter that operating room, and maybe you’ll never leave it again.

His eyes water and his legs give out, he kneels beside the bed, his suppressed voice sounding like a low, painful moan. The cry of a child who lost everything he had; of a confused teenager who would become a soldier, cold, dead inside, incapable of love - who loved you. Who loves you. “I’m scared. I’m scared- I love you.” He’d mutter, praying to all known gods to not take you. Take anything, anything from me; anything but her.

When the doctors came into the room and hurriedly moved your gurney to the ward in a desperate attempt to get your heart working again with the transplant, Simon sat in the waiting room with his face buried in his hands, his legs trembling. and the false hope that you would come back.

That you’ll be on that front porch, resting ever so happily, a bottle of beer in your hand and the dogs running around. He will have gotten rid of the mask and the habit of wearing it and you’ll be happy. You’ll be happy. You’ll be alive.

“God, please.” He mutters. “You’ve taken so much from me, now please, not this.”

He stands up as the doctor calls his name, with his heart on his hand and regret flashing his face off, he just wants another minute with you, another second with you, enough seconds so he can tell you he love you - he had, for most of his life and now, and he will, for the rest of his days with or without you.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met.

[dear-space-cadet]

okay sooooo

ki’d with bff today

she interviewed Alex for work the other day

she did NOT mention me and he did not seem to connect the dots on who she is, thank goodness. she’s met him before and he would know her through me (he wasn’t grooming her but we met him together/were both in the fandom) so I think due to context collapse he just didn’t put two and two together. thank goodness. also thank goodness we didn’t go to the nyc show last week bc then he would have connected the dots. I never wanna put oomf in jeopardy bc of my bullshit, esp like personal bullshit from a decade ago. we’ll see how it goes when her article comes out bc I will def be talking abt it on main and Alex NAME SEARCHES ON TWITTER lmfaoooo

bff doesn’t rly have any tea per se but she let me listen to the interview transcript and the way alex speaks will always creep me out now, I think. like I know it’s his job and it’s PR but hearing the specific contrived talking points he uses over and over in every interview actually sent a chill down my spine LMFAOOOO. maybe it’s just bc I know him in such an interesting context idkkkk. he was also talking extremely fast and changing subjects every 3 seconds/non-answering questions to the point where I was like… is that las drogas… is that… cocaina…? like literally imagine your typical Alex interview response but on like 5000x speed and just making no sense. shit was crazy. he talked for like a CHUNKY paragraph on otter for every response. no PR people on the call either

also, he sent her the full album to listen to ahead of release and she has not listened yet and will not leak it obviously (she is a good journo!) unlike me) (I left journalism bc I’m too much of a loudmouth and want to be friends with everyone I meet) (Alex where are your PR people???)

but basically this ENTIRE ki with bff was just me and her sitting in this dim sum spot GAGGED just going “oh my fucking goddddd he has no idea” as franzdom flashbacks literally flashed before our eyes. like he has no fucking idea dude. he has no idea she’s my bff and we met over reading fanfic of him and Nick getting #DownAndDirty on tour and we made YouTube poops of him and we have a whole contrived fanfic universe he features in. he has our drawings of him from 2015 in his fucking HOUSEEE (if he kept them) and has no idea. he has a sticker with our old blog on it (same deal) and has no fucking idea it was her. he has no fucking idea what she knows about him too. apparently he was rly impressed by how niche and specific her questions were, and literally she knows all of that bc she spent years in his fandom with me!!! like it’s so crazy to grow up in fandom and then land in media. idk

I was only gonna Report Back with tea if he connected the dots on who she is or if he mentioned me, so yeah, no tea. Idk if he’ll figure it out. And I don’t wanna spoil anything before the interview comes out bc bff is incredibly smart and sweet and I want you to hear it all from her! And tbh I hope Alex doesn’t connect the dots, bc bff doesn’t deserve to have that experience/connection/journalistic integrity ruined bc Alex is immature and DMs teenage girls on the internet

But what I do know:

- he uses the name Lexxo personally, it’s not just a Ulysses lyric 😭

- he has listened to Brat. (by recommendation of teenager number 2573 in his DMs, I’m sure)

kk, bye!

[thana-topsy]

If you're up for sharing more writing tips, how can I tell if what I've written is actually any good? With writing I get stuck in a cycle of feeling like I'm the next Shakespeare while writing but then I'll look over my work a few days later and absolutely hate everything and think it's the most cringe shit ever, then I'll leave it a bit longer and think eh it's not as bad as I thought but still not great and so on. I feel like being forced to write for a grade during school and having everything be marked and assessed and assigned a particular value has robbed me of the ability to critically analyse my own work in a way that's objective and accurate but also fair and realistic. I can analyse other peoples' stuff till the cows come home but I lose all rational thought when it comes to my own stuff

Adding onto that, how do I get to the point where I can stop looking back at my old work and hating everything and wanting to delete it all? Realistically I know finding fault with my old stuff is good bc it means I've grown and improved from where I once was etc but at the same time I wanna enjoy stuff I've made in the past without cringing every time I read it

Hey there Nony, I wanted to let this one percolate a little bit before answering because I've been where you are. And it's a rough time for sure. But aside from my own experiences, I also wanted to get the opinions of some of my writerly friends in the fandom, too, since everyone is a little font of wisdom in their own right.

So I'm going to share their advice alongside my own, because this is kind of a complicated string of questions you're asking. Long post ahead!

@paraparadigm says to Keep Writing: "Write more. Write so much (and so many different things) that eventually the sheer volume bulldozes over self-devouring ego, comparison twitches, or feeling lost, because you don't yet know your own baseline. Coupled with "read more, read everything, read things you enjoy and things you don't, read for the craft as much as the entertainment." And: "I'd add that when revisiting old writing, it's helpful for me to differentiate between "ew the writing is not as technically solid as it is now" and "ah that's interesting, I guess that's where I was at then, emotionally and psychologically". Old writing is also a sort of archaeological record of your younger self, and that can, in fact, be a bit itchy to revisit, so learning to cherish that without passing judgement can be really helpful. I try to treat it like those little marks one puts on the door jamb to track a kid's height."

@mareenavee says "Part of it is writing more, as Para said and I will always second that. Another part is, honestly, the hardest part. It's to try very hard to get out of the habit of negative self-talk.... There's so much work involved with this but normalizing being proud of your work and having some grace with yourself is part of that answer."

@archangelsunited says "Early on, instead of going “this has to be a masterpiece” I would tell myself my only job was to tell a story. I couldn’t tell a story if I was deleting it. Also, talking about your work helps. The less ashamed I was of my writing, the more people wanted to read it. There is a need to hide your work, and that can lead to a downward spiral all its own. And, 90% of the time, you have to suck at something to learn to be good at something. The work you already wrote shouldn’t be the sum of all your skill, it should be one of those measuring sticks for the moment. Despite previous thought, you won’t be stuck at the same level forever."

@polypolymorph says "In addition to accumulating experience via reading and writing, you also have to be willing to reinvent the wheel. Unfortunately the Process™️ is unique to everyone, and even when you are deliberately mimicking a voice as, say, a ghost writer, you can't expect that 2+2=4 for you. Your process might look more like a Lotka-Volterra equation for the same type of work and that's okay. Trial and error is the best way to figure out what advice actually works for you--and if it doesn't, it doesn't mean you're wrong. Don't get stuck on pop writing advice like a sad roomba does on an upturned rug. Learn when to throw it out."

So there's some advice from some other excellent writers! I hope you've been able to find some value in their advice, because it certainly kicked me in the pants a few times.

As for me, I think, having been where you are, my biggest piece of advice is: Find joy in the craft. Get curious instead of critical. An artist shouldn't down themselves over a rough sketch when they're working out a drawing, so why would a writer do such a thing? Everything you write is practice. Everything you make has value because it builds up to the next thing you make.

At the end of the day, you are the only one who is capable of telling the stories that are in your head. This fact alone gives whatever you put onto paper value, regardless of quality. You are creating magic, in the most literal sense! Creating something out of nothing, conjuring images into someone else's mind from hundreds of thousands of miles away, transcending space and time. It's amazing!

Lastly, my final piece of advice is to just write for fun. Write things nobody else will ever see just because you wanted to get words onto paper. You have to unlearn what was drilled into you in school. You are more than a content creation machine. You are an artist, a wordsmith. And just know that there will never be a day when you look at your own work and say "That's it, I have achieved perfection."

Writing is a life-long journey. Just enjoy the ride!

[summercosmos]

@midnightclover OK i accidentally answered ur ask and deleted it ugh!!!!! so sorry. i liked ur question so i hope this isn't much of a bother.

first of all. again. i highly recommend playing pokemon Rejuvenation for yourself bc its def an experience! if u thought that was interesting then im sure you'll like a lot of the themes it works with. its super lengthy and the story is all over the place but i love it loooots and lots. also it will give a whole lot more of context than i can! if u just want to know abt this one thing though then ↓↓↓

okay so summing it up MC is a ???thing from outer space who has signed a contract to take over this dead-just-revived teenager(s) body so they could Intercept fate. thats what the whole Interceptor business is about. the dead teenage body in question is one of the six (+ a secret one) protagonists you get to choose to be at the start of the game!

At a later point in the game, as u get to find out what an even interceptor is u also find that...MC is more or less a soul hotel. they've got those six souls due to a Coming Back Wrong situation + another dead guy who i can't even begin to talk about without making this very confusing + their own one? that's a bit unclear ingame actually + yours as in You the player if you're thinking about it that way. oh well. Then these three characters are asked to describe how they actually see the MC as in Visually and — Aelita (who has some soul issues of her own) describes you down to a tee. yay! then the other two proceed to each describe another whole completely different person. at this point u are informed that You, player character, do in fact look like the whole variety of those souls you've got stuffed in there depending on who you ask.

this isn't developed at all past this (at where the game is currently, that is) which i find a real pity. my personal headcanon is that each person sees the interceptor through the emotion they associate them with, since there's a whole motif for each one of those 6 (+1!) souls going on (i.e one of them is happiness, the other one chaos, the other wrath...stuff like that). that's basically what my doodle was abt looool i think its situationally very funny when u consider just how wildly different each protagonist is from e/o and the general vibe they give off. What Do You Mean You Turn Into a White Person When You get Mad

[hed-romancer]

season 5 episode 3 of camp camp was amazing, actually

okay so i didn't really like season 5 episode 1, and episode 2 while better, was pretty mediocre to me. Nothing funny, nothing that really moved character interactions forward (besides the slip that david is upset gwen isn't a counselor), some stuff that felt out of character (david doesn't seem the type to worry if he's a good counselor or not so much as worry about literally anything else), and some stuff that was supposed to be funny but was actually unfunny and out of character (the campers choosing to try to open the freezer before even letting anyone know about the cave in). It really was just okay, and only that good bc i love anxious!david

episode 3, however, was absolutely wonderful.

on one hand, you have some of the greatest jokes of the series (david switching over to word associations after explaining exactly nothing, the cut back to the boys where david is taking notes on something nurf is saying, nerris immediately thinking someone born in 1985 must be dead now) (though i'm not exactly a fan of the implication that cj is a child predator being played as a joke).

On the other hand, you have honestly one of the best portrayals of what its like being a tween/young teen girl in media.

ered doesn't know what she's doing, and feels unprepared by her two dads to become a woman, so she goes to gwen to ask for advice, who she thinks is a cool adult woman but is also just so happy to be thought of as cool that she's not even sure what she's agreeing to do. ered asks all the questions she hasn't been able to ask, and gwen realizes quickly she doesn't have all the answers, but still fakes it anyway.

nerris goes off and finds the diary of a kid named jessie, and as they read it they feel seen in a way they never have before. they read more and fall in love with jessie, only to realize that jessie was a kid in 1985, and conclude jessie must be dead by now.

nikki ends up at a spa, and tries new "girly" things, that she previously derided, and finds them enjoyable. once she sees the sum of all the ways she's changed herself, she panics, and realizes she's looking like what she used to hate. how can she still be herself if she's enjoying this?

nikki and nerris go running to ered and gwen for advice, and gwen says "goddammit". ered, realizing that gwen doesn't know anything either, takes to helping the younger two on her own. she tells nerris that feeling lost and unsure doesn't mean you're alone, that we've all felt that way. she tells nikki that while its okay to question who she is sometimes, she can be whoever she wants to be and the questioning doesn't make her any less herself.

and it's just chef's kiss. nerris getting a first(?) queer love and realizing it's not gonna happen and not knowing how to handle the heartbreak because it's their first time experiencing it. nikki exploring femininity and realizing it can be enjoyable, even if its not what she usually does, just for her own sake. ered realizing older women don't have it figured out either, and even if she doesn't know everything, she's still gonna step up and help the younger two out. i just love it.

it's literally what becoming an older girl is like. trying to figure it out, helping others try to figure it out, realizing those older than you haven't figured it out either.

[sgiandubh]

Why is it that it *urks* me S so easily plays the narrative with these porn loving young girls?! All he works for and accomplishes, he disrespects himself allowing his reputation to be linked to those kind of very young women. How can it be okay for him to let people believe he is a *man whore* (as the group of so called haters say)? It's not like they could still play the narrative with a beautiful woman that does not post her body parts all over social media!! I just feel like everytime they link him with one of those women, I lose a little more respect for him. For me, it also takes away from the love I've always seen between him and C. Ugh! I feel crazy for it bothering me! Am I the only one?!

Dear Bothered Anon,

I am sorry for the substantial delay. Flu happened still, and I wanted to have a clearer and rested mind in order to properly answer your question.

I shall again be brutally honest and say I really don't care at this point what brought you here: sincerity or elicitation of shippers' reactions on this very meh week-end. It doesn't really matter, either: but since Mordor is regularly accusing us of spoliation of evidence, I thought your submission deserved a careful answer. I know that annoys the shit out of them, too - not gonna lie, I am always pleased to oblige.

For our readers that have a normal life and were not here for Marple's midnight stalking session, here goes a summing-up of the facts (I hope you don't mind):

A video snippet of what is probably a more extended FaceTime conversation between S and Amanda Tutschek ( https://paintedpeachla.com/), a topless artist and painting tutor (100 USD/hour/class) from Vancouver, BC (but currently active in Venice Beach, Ca.) surfaced on Marple's account, supposedly dropped in her DMs by a good Samaritan. It is a nine second snippet ("... yeah...I was gonna put this one up here... but so funny... I was literally doing this yesterday and I was thinking about you...") with the comment: "Pimping out @samheughan's walls in Ireland (IE flag emoji)". It stayed on Tutschek's Instagram account for about four hours and then was promptly erased.

You start by telling me "S is playing the narrative with" the #silly calendar girls crowd. Is he, in this instance and if so, how can you (or anybody) be so sure?

Two scenarios are at play here:

First scenario: S/his people leaked this on purpose. Therefore, S is a troll.

Second scenario: Tutschek posted it as an Instastory on purpose. Therefore, S is a victim.

If S is trolling the fandom and I believe he is (only not now and not like this), why would he leak this on purpose? To emphatically let us know they're 'obviously not together'? To stir the pot between Queen *urv and Marple? To consolidate his man whore image, just when he was taking part in a critically important event in New York? I can understand the Lord of the Rings rigmarole (grinned for days), but assuming he is behind this strange snippet would be stretching the fabric of facts a bit too much, to my taste.

Also, despite *urv's delirious opinion ("he had a bedroom voice"), I think he just sounded tired and vaguely friendly: yes, I do think it's his voice. Not earlier than Friday evening, I received a video call on Fb from M, a (Taurus, hehe) former high school mate and one of my best friends. She always makes a point of telling me stuff like "I was buying grapes at the farmer's market and thought about you, how you absolutely hate them, so I called"/"I am at the Opera with Professor So-and-So, I told him about my brilliant friend in Athens, wanna say hi ?" That doesn't mean M wants me, the woman is happily married with two teenage boys. But she is a kind soul, with a superb understanding about what a friend really means (including being candidly obnoxious and immediately forgiven for it).

If Tutschek posted it out of her own accord on Insta, the reason would be simple: coat-tailing for clicks, shits and giggles. The insistent Ireland reference would point to that: I mean, the woman scrolled all the way down to the flag emojis to make sure we got the point (and in the process, more innuendo, mayhap). That would also explain why she promptly took it down: either because she realized somehow she pushed things a smidge too far or because she was strongly encouraged to cut the crap.

Seriously, whatever. This is just another episode of low-cost fuckery, irrespective of the two possibilities I just discussed. Her art is not as memorable as the bosom she generously shares with the world. It is borderline depressing and nothing to write home about, if you ask me. And the fact that the fandom quickly placed her in the same social circle with Quarantein Gia and Paparazzi Clarke, well... another major eyeroll, just here. The expected effect was exactly the one you described: to quietly gnaw at people's respect of S and also to chip a bit more of the fairytale.

This will happen only if you let them. These people, whoever they are, cannot challenge your reason, because there is nothing interesting or even logical about idiotic tidbits like this one. But they can and they are challenging and playing with your emotions, in order to instill doubt, insecurity, fear or disgust. I will not discuss Marple's editorial policy here (like her legally disingenuous use of someone else's material), simply because I do not want to give that derailed jukebox further space on my page. It is my sensible choice not to let these people in my world more than they deserve to be (very little). Maybe you should try it too, Anon. It could work for you as it did for me, once I came to terms with it.

I am not even sorry about the length of this answer. Haters gonna hate. I could not care less. Thanks for dropping by.

[i-want-my-iwtv]

How do you interpret the Louis vampire transformation in the book, not the show. It seems very sexual from my understanding although Lestat is a complete a**hole. I'm starting to reread the books again it's been awhile.

…"Are we close to God when we create something out of nothing? When we pretend we are the tiny flame and we make other flames?"

nansorella, this question could be an essay answer 💗! I'm glad to hear you're rereading the books, definitely try to get through TOBT if you can, that's where the above quote came from. There's a lot of layers with Lestat giving the Dark Gift to Louis. But I'll try to keep this as short as I can, and we can always delve further in a follow up ;}

[^X by @xxhellonursexx, read the caption on that bc it's in line with my answer on this ask! Vampiric feeding could be compared to breastfeeding, but specifically their turning is really the most comparable, a child feeding on the nutrition from their parent's own body.]

Focusing on the book, yes, my reading is that it's intentionally very sexual (even complete a**holes can be capable of sex!). Since vampires can't get pregnant, the Dark Gift is their method of sexual reproduction; I would argue that it's the most intimate act they can perform. Yes Lestat is being more than a bit of an a**hole in that moment but I can excuse it partly bc it was AR's first time writing a vampire turning and Lestat was for sure the main antagonist in that story, so he had to be sassy/cruel even in what should have been a loving moment but that's another entire discussion. Ppl can be awful during the act of giving birth, too, so... yeah... I would also argue that the '94 movie softened that scene somewhat, Lestat was positively thrilled about doing it and wasn't awful to Louis (except for when he had to break away from Louis, but that's also comparable to childbirth, which has pain involved for sure, and then you can see how sexually gratified he is laying back and watching Louis transform after they separate so ANYWAY!).

Since Lestat has so many fledglings, it was kind of a fandom joke that every time X sound occurs, Lestat makes another fledgling... maybe it's because he gets so much pleasure out of performing the act itself, and, transforming someone into a vampire, he gains a kind of parental and creative ownership of that person. It's his blood in them, after all!

Louis describes the act of killing as being a celebration of his making, (my bold & italics emphasis added):

"Killing is no ordinary act," said the vampire. "One doesn't simply glut oneself on blood." He shook his head. "It is the experience of another's life for certain, and often the experience of the loss of that life through the blood, slowly. It is again and again the experience of that loss of my own life, which I experienced when I sucked the blood from Lestat's wrist and felt his heart pound with my heart. It is again and again a celebration of that experience; because for vampires that is the ultimate experience."

[X for a great gifset of this quote by @fetch-me-a-block]

And then in Tale of the Body Thief, Lestat's reflecting on the creation of Claudia in a similar way to how ppl talk about the creation of their children:

[^X St. Patrick’s Cathedral, NYC, 11/7/15.]

“I lifted the long wax wick, dipped it into an old flame, and carried the fire to a fresh candle, watched the little tongue grow orange and bright. What a miracle, I thought. One tiny flame could make so many other flames; one tiny flame could set afire a whole world. Why, I had, with this simple gesture, actually increased the sum total of light in the universe, had I not? …«But why, Lestat?» Because she was beautiful, because she was dying, because I wanted to see if it would work. Because nobody wanted her and she was there, and I picked her up and held her in my arms. Because it was something I could accomplish, like the little candle flame in the church making another flame and still retaining its own light - my way of creating, my only way, don’t you see? One moment there were two of us, and then we were three. …«Are we close to God when we create something out of nothing? When we pretend we are the tiny flame and we make other flames?»

That book has an undercurrent of Claudia haunting Lestat (possibly as a ghost, but possibly as just his own imaginary manifestation of her) and pestering him about why he created her, maybe trying to provoke him into an apology, and I feel like he's able to make peace with her in his ruminations about her in that book. This is why I encourage ppl to read the canon books, even on beyond the first 3, because there are gems like this that add a richness to the characters, we can explore them along with Anne Rice 💗💗💗