#but the point is. i see how we got here. and i would like to know who named it that
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Hold on I'd actually love to talk about Archie comics and the forces behind Riverdale for a second because they're legitimately fascinating.
So, before we talk about why Riverdale's so bonkers, we gotta talk about Kevin Keller. Archie's cast and those of its spinoffs being thrown into Situations of wildly differing tone and periods is a time-honored classic of the series, but that started to mean more than just "here's a story about the gang finding out what kissing is in prehistoric times" after the successful introduction of Kevin in 2010. For those who may not know, Kevin was the first openly gay character in the Archie comics, and his release was kind of a huge deal - Archie had always been seen as this squeaky-clean symbol of (white) Americana, so something like that happening in the new 10's - to fucking Archie - was legitimately groundbreaking. (He's since been followed up with characters like Toni Topaz and Eliza Han, but Kev was the first.)
Remember, Archie is the kids' comic book in America, for better or worse. Superhero comics can vary wildly in tone and intended audience, but if a parent grabs their kid an Archie comic from the shelf at a grocery store, they basically know what they're getting and don't have to worry about someone's neck getting ripped out on-panel. Getting something like Kevin in the "safest" comic short of Family Circus was kind of a watershed moment.
(As an aside: some have pointed out that Kevin isn't a terribly interesting character, being something of a masc everyman All-American Boy™, but I would argue that that's basically all Archie is, and at a time where all the "gay representation" kids were getting were horrible caricatures of fem men as envisioned by straight people, whitebread masc guy Kevin is kind of exactly what the doctor ordered. I would go so far as to argue that presenting this gay teen as unquestionably part of the gang, slotting into Archie's idealized 50's aesthetics perfectly, was one of the best moves they could have made for the era and surrounding climate. This was a time when "Gay men are just as capable of performing masculinity as straight men" was a legitimately transgressive statement. I'm a Kevin apologist. A Kevin defender.)
So, Kevin's release is huge. He's very popular with kids and adults alike, to the point where his introductory comic and miniseries sell out faster than any other Archie comic in history. He got his own spinoff within two years. People love Kevin.
So what does this have to do with Riverdale, beyond Kevin being a character in it? Well, Kevin Keller proves to the leads behind Archie that modernizing the series has the potential to be very lucrative indeed, and this is where Archie starts to get shockingly experimental. (Relatively speaking, anyway.) The new 10's see the release of Life With Archie: The Married Life, (a dual-timeline soap opera exploration of his married life with either Betty or Veronica) Afterlife with Archie, (a zombie story incited by Sabrina trying to bring Jughead's dog back after he was struck by a car) and of course, the infamous Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. (This one got a Netflix adaptation, but in case you need the cliff's notes, basically it's Sabrina the Teenage Witch only the witches get the power from worshiping Satan.)
These series were also well-received. Enter Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa, the guy behind the aforementioned Afterlife with Archie. After the success of the title, he was made Chief Creative Officer, and he's also the showrunner of Riverdale, and here is the reason Riverdale is Like That.
So while Riverdale is undoubtedly an incredibly weird cultural object, I think a lot of people who aren't familiar with the show or franchise get the wrong idea about it. I think the biggest point of confusion among onlookers is "How in on the bit is Riverdale?" and I would respond: extremely. Are you kidding? Why is there even any doubt about this? Sacasa is a gay guy who got cease-and-desisted for writing a play that reimagined Archie as gay in 2003. This dude got promoted specifically for playing with genre and making Archie weird as Hell back when it used to be considered a dull, whitebread relic. You think shit like the "I'm weird. I'm a weirdo." speech and "That means that you haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of high school football." happened by accident? You think it just stumbled into doing an entire Hedwig and the Angry Inch episode? Oh, no, my friend. That shit was the result of a demented fag writer doing what demented fag writers do best; produce camp masterpieces. Everything about Riverdale is completely intentional.
Now, is it good? No, of course not. It is, however, great fucking television. I don't really watch the show outside of a few isolated episodes, but I am really glad it exists.
Gritty sci-fi webcomic where partway through the third major arc the protagonists get trapped in some sort of utopian false reality by a mysterious godlike being, except they never escape and the comic just changes genres to quirky coffee-shop slice of life until it's unceremoniously cancelled six years later.
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Between The Lines
Summary-> It's the little things that go on behind the scenes between you and Drew that makes your chemistry electric.
Belongs to my: OBX Season 5: Payback for Maybank Series
These can be read in any order!
"Park place." Maddison narrates where Drew lands his dog piece across the monopoly board. "I'll buy it." He says but your hand is in his face, "Not so fast. I'm sure you would love to buy it if I didn't already have a hotel on it. You owe me $1500. Pay up." You show him your open palm, ready for lots and lots of cash.
"He's so cooked. Look at that pathetic stack of cash Drew has. I've got piggy banks with more than that." Jonathan's comments send the four of you erupting into a fit of laughter which eventually dies down to a patient silence. "Sometime today would be great." Madison clears her throat.
"Josh is coming!" Drew points, appealing to your gullibility and you all fell for it. By the time you realized he was bluffing, the board was tossed and the pieces were all out of place. He gets up and runs off as if he already knew you'd be hot on his heels.
Your outburts left JD and Madison alone to pick up the pieces, but not without an interesting conversation. "50 bucks they're together by the time we finish the season." Madison says it so casually as she reaches underneath the couch for the pieces.
"So I'm not crazy? You see it too?" He looks almost relieved. "Trust me, I've got a knack for these things." JD seems skeptical about the timeline of the bet. "I dunno, we finish filming in four months. That might be too soon, I say by the premiere."
The both of them look up to Carlacia who seemed to have been streaming live on her istagram. She enters the room mumbling something about getting winded by you and Drew sprinting past her.
Madison scoffs, "That's like nine months from now. They could get together and break up by then, but you know what-- If that's what you wanna bet, then be my guest." She holds out her hand and JD shakes on it. "You're on."
"We're ready for you guys." One of the assistants notifys them that it was time to head to the screening room where the weekly table reads were held.
Today would be your first look at the script for the second episode, and to say you were shocked was an understatement.
Script Summary:
Eventually the pogues put their trust in Piper and she gives them a fair exchange of some arms that they can handle, while she opts for her weapon of choice, a steel pipe.
"How do you think I got the name and the scar?" She says and it puts an odd sense of comfort among the group, minus a skeptical Rafe, to know you were confident enough in your skills that you didn't need a gun.
They beleived they were in good hands, until they realized they weren't. There was movement coming from the bushes and it made the pogues stand on guard, beckoning them to come out. Soon, the figures finally revealed themsleves. More mercenaries.
"Nicely, done Piper. It seems you can still make yourself useful after all." The red-headed woman speaks up, tossing you a pouch of money that you caught with one hand effortlessly.
"Never doubt my capabilities, it's insulting." You warn, tucking the pouch into the bag strapped across your back. The british woman continues, "Y'know, Mr. Finch could use your talents again. Once we're done tying up loose ends, we're headed back to home base in Lisbon."
Rafe is livid. He knew he couldn't trust you. It couldn't be by pure coincidence that the mercenaries popped up in the middle of this oasis when you were leading. "Lisbon? You told us Finch was here-" Kiara exclaims and Rafe interrupts.
"It was all a lie, from the very beginning. Mr. Alami, the merchant from Agapenta, he was working with you, wasn't he? You knew he'd send us to you, and now you got your sad little payout from these dipshits for bringing us to them." Rafe seethes.
"I'll neither confirm nor deny that claim, love the enthusiasm though." Your attitude remains unbothered throughout the ordeal until Pope demands, "What do you want from us? We don't have the crown! Groff took it." The red head shrugs casually, sharpening her blades as she approaches the group.
"Don't you worry, Groff will get what's coming to him. For now, it's time to repay the debt that is owed. You get blood on your hands, I get blood on mine." Your eyes bulge, "Hang on, you never said you wanted to kill them." You step in and the woman pays you no mind.
"Perhaps because It's none of your concern. You've got your cut, now's a good time as ever to leave. It's about to get messy." She retracts her hand, about to plunge the blade into Pope when she's knocked out cold by a flying piece of steel.
The group looks over to you in shock, fear, and a hint of gratitude, but there's no time to gush about it when there's suddenly a brawl that breaks out between the mercenaries and the pogues.
You all hardly take them out before escaping.
"Piper, what the hell?!" John B yells and his anger is heavily agreed on in the group, you take it on the chin before offering the most sincere apology you could come up with. They're unconvinced. "I deserve that. Everything you heard back there is true. Finch's Fortress is in Lisbon. If you find him, you'll find Groff," You trail off, reaching into your bag, handing Cleo the pouch of money you'd just gotten.
"Take this. It's more than enough to get you a boat big enough to get across the atlantic and even have some leftover for food for a few days. When you arrive on the coast of Cascais, you'll need to head north in-land."
There's silence.
A long silence, nervous glances between the pogues and Rafe's eyes roll. "You guys cannot seriously be considering trusting her. She almost had us killed! Am I the only one who cares about making it back home?"
"Just shut up, Rafe!" John B silences him, and Pope speaks up. "Listen, I don't know about you guys but Piper just saved my life when she didn't have to. We've already lost someone. Going after Groff could be a suicide missison for all we know. But we all know this isn't about our safety, it's about revenge. For JJ." His speech is moving, the expressions agree.
"For JJ." They all agree.
"To Lisbon we go." Cleo chimes, and the group moves on.
End of Script*
You had just finished reading the script and you were blown away. The cast never knows what to expect whenevfer a new script is dropped in front of them.
"Wait a minute... If the pogues are going to Lisbon in the next episode then," Madison trails off and the director ties in, "So are we. Pack your bags, flights are booked for Saturday morning at 5am, please do not miss these flights, we're not opposed to writing you out!" Josh jokes and there's excited and shock all around the table.
You knew that the last season of the show had implied that the pogues would be on their way to Lisbon but it never dawned on you that it would be so soon, even though it made sense.
"You ever been to Portugal?" Drew leans in, a soft whisper in your ear tickled your skin and made the hairs on the back of your neck at attention. "Never, have you?" He thinks about it, "If a layover counts then yes, yes I have." You're not sure if the joke was funny or if it just left the mouth of an incredibly attractive man, nonetheless, it made you giggle.
Madison kicks JD from under the table, jutting her chin towards the two of you giggling in secret and he rolls his eyes. "Patience." He says it calmly, but Madison is impatient, she knows she'll reign triumphant by the end of it all.
-
It’s a Friday night—or, more accurately, the early hours of Saturday morning. The world outside your accommodations complex is still cloaked in sleep, and you should be too. But no. The responsibility of making your flight in two hours has ripped you from the warmth of your bed. Groggy but determined, you scrambled to gather your belongings, knowing you wouldn’t be back.
After a last sweep of the room, you opened the door with a flicker of confidence—only to jump at the sight of a six-foot-two figure standing in your doorway.
“Drew! Oh my god, you scared me.” Your hand flew to your chest in a theatrical gesture, your pulse thrumming in your ears.
A small smile tugged at his lips, his eyes crinkling slightly. “Sorry. Just wanted to make sure you were actually up. Everyone else already left. There’s one driver still waiting downstairs.” His voice was smooth, annoyingly easy to listen to this early in the morning. Too easy.
“You sound oddly refreshed for 3 a.m.,” you quipped, your own voice still husky from sleep as you grabbed your suitcase.
“That’s the beauty of insomnia.” He shrugged, gesturing to his temples with a finger like it was some kind of genius life hack. “You can’t wake up tired if you never really sleep.”
The elevator dinged open, and the two of you stepped inside. The silence that settled was heavy, charged with something you couldn’t quite define. It hung there until you both spoke at once:
“So where are you—” “How did you—”
You broke into quiet laughter, and Drew’s mouth twitched with amusement. “You first,” he said, giving you a slight nod.
“How did you know I hadn’t already left with the others?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. For a moment, something flickered across his face—an emotion too quick to name—before a light blush dusted his cheeks. He masked it with an easy tone.
“I did some askin' around,” he replied, the answer short and almost vague. It was just enough to spark your teasing instincts.
“Ah,” you said with a smirk, “so you missed me?”
Instant regret settled within you. The elevator seemed too small, too still as Drew turned to look at you, his gaze steady and disarming. For a heartbeat, he didn’t respond, and your cheeks grew warm under his stare.
“You could say that,” he finally said, the ghost of a smirk curling the corner of his lips. His attention shifted to the elevator doors as they slid open, leaving you to wonder if you’d imagined the whole thing.
The ride to the airport was longer than expected thanks to roadwork that forced a detour. You should've been annoyed, but at some point, your head found its way to Drew’s shoulder, and your eyes fluttered shut. The fabric of his hoodie was soft against your temple, and his warmth lulled you into a half-dream state.
Drew didn’t dare move. The weight of your head against him was almost too perfect, and he fought the sudden urge to reach for your hand resting on your lap. Instead, he focused on the ticking clock in the back of his mind and the quiet hum of the car.
When you arrived, he sprang into action. “C’mon, we don’t have time to waste,” he murmured, grabbing your suitcase and his carry-on in one hand while ushering you toward the terminal with the other.
You barely had to lift a finger. Drew handled everything—tickets, baggage check, even navigating customs—with practiced efficiency, his jaw set and his movements quick. He wasn’t just organized; he was determined.
“Do you always walk as fast as a drill sergeant?” you teased as you reached the gate, breathing a little easier now.
He shot you a look, his lips twitching. “I'm not a huge fan of being late,” was all he said. But the way his eyes lingered on yours for half a second longer than necessary told you there was more to it than that.
Finally, you made it to your seats in first class. You settled across the aisle from Madelyn, who flashed you a bright smile.
“I was starting to think you two wouldn’t make it,” she teased, leaning toward you with a glint in her eye. There was an underlying subtext to her words but you were too tired to decipher it.
“Drew made sure that didn’t happen,” you replied with a soft laugh. The words were simple, but they carried a warmth you couldn’t quite suppress.
From behind your seat, Drew caught the sound of his name on your lips--and god did he love the way it sounds. He didn’t know what you’d said, but it didn’t matter. The fact that you were talking about him stirred something in his chest.
As the flight began, you glanced back once, meeting his gaze. He held it for a fraction of a moment before looking away, his expression unreadable.
And yet, for the rest of the flight, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Couldn’t stop replaying the memory of the weight of your head on his shoulder—or wondering what it might feel like to hold your hand in his.
Taglist: @percysley, @lilithblackkk, @rafegf-real, @eternallovers65, @drsza, @wearemadeofstardust0, @cadhlabear, @thepopcultureaddict, @citr0us, @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account, @madi44444,
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe drabble#outer banks smut#rafe obx#outer banks imagines#rafe smut#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#bsf!rafe#rafe cameron drabble#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey smut#drew starkey#obx fic#outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx#rafe cameron angst#light angst#obx angst
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Hello!!!, I just wanted to request a Claggor x pregnant reader (in the good timeline), if that’s possible, thank you so much <3!
I had fun with this one
Arcane Imagines- Claggor
The Favorite
[arcane] [main page]
Prompt: claggor and reader are expecting a baby in a few months. Their family come over with gifts.
“Sweetheart, don’t you dare.” My husband stopped me as I was about to pick up a part of our baby’s bed. I sigh, lifting myself back up while holding the bottom of my stomach. “Claggor I can pick up a piece of wood.” I walk over to him. He sat on the floor trying to figure out the directions to put the crib together. It was mine from when I was a baby that my mom surprisingly kept.
“Not if I’m here. What if you trip and fall forwards? I would never forgive myself.” He looks up at me with a stern expression. I roll my eyes, nudging him with my knee. “I’m only 31 weeks, I don’t even have the pregnancy waddle yet. So I am very capable of picking things up without tripping.” I fold my arms, a little annoyed with this conversation that we’ve had before.
Anytime I even lift a finger I get scolded. I can’t cook, I can’t lift anything over 5 pounds, I can’t pick things up off the ground anymore. “You’re in denial first off because you so have a waddle. And second I am here so you don’t need to be capable of picking something up. I got it.” He takes my hand, kissing it softly. I roll my eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Okay, whatever. When our princess comes out being a little diva that’s going to be on you.” I point a finger in his face, he pretends like he’s going to bite me.
“And I’ll be okay with a little diva.” He goes back to building the crib.
I go out to our living room to sit down on the couch. I let out a bored huff. What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and read? Who does he think I am? I’m tougher than him. I used to be a professional fighter. Now I’m some sort of wife with a great husband who wants to take care of me.
My hands land on my stomach and I think about our baby who is in my tummy. What will she look like when she’s born? I hope she has my eyebrows. Claggor’s nose.
A bunch of knocks sound at the door and I frown knowing I have to stand up from just sitting down. I grab the back of the couch and try to push myself up. “Sit down, sit down. I got it.” Claggor rushes past me, getting the door. I blink a few times, now annoyed since I got halfway up!
Vander comes into the house holding two baskets. “I bring gifts for my grandchild!” He laughs excitedly, I grin up at him. “Thank you! You didn’t have to do that!” I appreciate Vander, he’s been such a good help with setting things up for his granddaughter. “Ah, yes I did. She’s going to be such a spoiled girl.” He clasps his hands together after Claggor took the baskets from him, setting them next to me on the couch.
“Well, we love you.” I smile, taking the first basket and opening it to see little blankets, a thing of diapers and wipes. “This is so helpful.” I start to tear up, Claggor sits next to me pulling me into his arms. “Sorry, I’m just so grateful for this. You don’t understand.” A tear falls and my body wracks in a sob.
“She’s been crying a lot more lately.” Claggor tells his dad and I sniffle. Vander snickers, “it’s alright. No worries, I know how it goes.” He waves my behavior off.
“Powder, Ekko and Mylo are going to be stopping by. They told me to let you know.” He exclaims, his arms over his chest as he speaks to us. “Oh man, they’re so sweet!” I cry out, hiding my face in my husband's chest. I feel him shake as he laughs at me. “Sweetheart, it’s okay.” He rubs my back up and down. “Sorry,” I sat up, wiping my tears. “Pregnancy brain.” I grab the other basket, opening it to reveal some baby clothes. “Perfect, we’ve been needing to grab some more pajamas.” I take them out of the basket, holding them up one by one to check them out. “So cute.” I squeal, leaning my head on Claggor’s shoulder.
Not even moments later there’s a pounding at the door and Vander gets it. Mylo sneaks under his arm holding a large golden necklace. “Got this for my niece so she will know who the best Uncle ever is.” He throws it over to Claggor who picks it up in between his fingers to inspect it. “Yeah, she’s never going to wear this.” He deadpans to his brother with an irritated expression.
“What!? I spent good money on that. She’s going to love it.” He throws his hands in the air. “Mylo, this is fake. Her mother is allergic to fake metal so I’m sure she will be too.” Claggor throws it back to the shorter guy. “Ohhh! He told you.” Powder comes in with a small box, Ekko behind her with painting supplies. “Here ya go!” She places the box down in my lap. “I made them.” She proudly states, hands behind her back. I picked up a light pink rattle. I shook it and it was soft sounding. Perfect for a baby. I look at the others and there were some teething toys along with a few building blocks. “Powder, thank you! This is amazing.” I grin up at her. “Awe, it’s nothing much. I’m excited to meet your beautiful bundle of joy!”
Ekko wiggles the paint supplies and I point to the bedroom. “Thank you again, Ekko!” I call after him. “No problem! I’m so excited to do this.” He pokes his head out to tell me and I chuckle. “Also, could you clean this mess up? Or is the crib supposed to look like this?” He looks to Claggor who groans. “I forgot all about it. I’ll be back, babe.” He plants a kiss on my lips before heading into our daughter’s bedroom.
Powder plops down in his spot, Vander reprimands his other son about trying to give a baby a gold chain that ended up being fake. I giggle, turning to my sister-in-law.
“You’re so talented Pow.” I lift up her artwork and her face flushes. “Thank you, I didn’t know what to get you guys for her. Ekko said something about giving you little toys. Then I thought about how I could just make the toys myself.” She explains her process and I smile. “Well this is a great gift.”
“I’m going to be her favorite uncle, trust!” Mylo tells his dad who scoffs. “You don’t even know what to get a kid.” Vander places his hands on his hips. “You’re right but I know how to make the kid look cool. She’ll be beating up bitches left and right.” He announces and I snort.
“That’s why you’re not babysitting. Ever.” Claggor comes back into the room. He turns to look at me but then sees Powder in his spot and he frowns. “What? Why not?” Mylo asks.
“You want my kid to be violent. She’s not going to be.” Claggor pinches the bridge of his nose, not believing this was actually a question. “Yeah, that’s why I’m going to be the favorite. Praise peace and love.” Ekko peaks out behind my husband and I snicker. “You are not going to be the favorite! You guys will eat your words when the first thing she says is Uncle Mylo.” He points at all of us. I hold my stomach from how hard I’m laughing. Powder giggling with me, her hand grabbing onto my wrist trying to contain herself as well.
“Her first word will be dada. Not her uncle who is an idiot.” Claggor argues, I raise my eyebrow. Dada? It’s definitely going to be mama but I don’t have the energy to join this fight. "I'm not an idiot." Mylo furrows his eyebrows.
“It could be Uncle Ekko. I top all you suckers.” Ekko says and now the three are all in a very heated argument about my daughter who’s not even out of the womb yet.
Powder turns to me, putting a hand in front of my ear. “I hope they realize the favorite is actually going to be me… Gonna be so embarrassed when they find out.” She tells me and I grin. “You’re so right.” I nod my head.
--------------------
Gonna try to grind more requests I do have over 25 at the moment so be patient with me!!!! I enjoy this so much. I love seeing all the love!!!! I am getting sick though so if I start to slow down on my posts that's why. I can already feel my body aching:(
N e wayzzz, love you guys!!!!!
#arcane league of legends#arcane spoilers#arcane x reader#arcane meta#arcane#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane s2#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane season 2#claggor arcane#mylo and claggor#claggor x reader#arcane claggor#claggor fanart#mylo#mylo arcane#powder#jinx#benzo#claggor#vander#ekko#powder x ekko#powder arcane#arcane jinx#x reader#female reader#reader insert#fem reader#male reader
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GOAT!CYN REF AND NOTES LETS GO
This bitch gets 3 parts bc I hate myself (her design changes 3 times throughout the story- technically more)
• no horns
• unfortunately the Cyn we get to explore the least of-
• made a deal with Absolute Salvation in order to avoid death. Unaware of consequences and lives in the mansion somewhat peacefully for several months
• starts seeing "hallucinations" and hearing voices of the demon, reminding her of the deal they made, that she has a debt to pay.
• too scared to tell anyone about it. Fearing she wouldn't be believed or would be discarded again
• slowly starts succumbing to the influence, talking to herself, not sleeping, muscle spasms, more difficulty with motor skills than usual
• at this point, with essentially no control over herself, she has begun roping the others (Nate, Jane, and Valerie) under the same influence with a series of ritualistic offerings and seances without their knowings.
• eventually fully completes the ritual right before the Gala, summoning the actual entity to become its vessel. Things only go downhill from here for a bit-
• Possessed by Absolute Salvation
• BIG OL HORNSSS
• Struggles to walk due to heels not being made for her anatomy (and already struggling motor skills) uses tentacles to help brace and balance herself
• Jagged and rough teeth
• Can shapeshift into someone if they consume the blood or flesh of them. Applies to all living organisms
• can duplicate body parts (including borrowed parts) and contort body in very unnatural and painful ways
• can shadow-shift (basically melting into the shadows, and can reappear in any surrounding shadow. The salvation equivalent of cynessa straight up teleporting in the show)
• explores a lot more of the manipulative and abusive tendencies of the AS we never got to see in the show. Still goofy but we see much more evil from her
• It actually retains much of Cyn's personality as it studied and adopted her behavior while it was dormant in the mansion
• the real Cyn is trapped in her own mindscape, enduring years of torture and abuse from the AS while she has no control over her body. She can see what is happening through her eyes, but it often becomes hazy and difficult to keep up with things over the years. Its easier to ignore it anyway
• No longer possessed by the malicious part of AS (though still retaining the abilities)
• has a scar just on the left side of her chest from being exorcised (stabbed with the "patch"/crucifix)
• either dresses like a schoolgirl or a 57 yr old man there is no in-between
• still needs to consume blood and flesh occasionally, as much as she hates it. Its like a bad craving that's unhealthy to suppress
• very malnourished at first due to the eating habits of the AS while in control of her body- takes a long time for her to gain an appetite back and stomach food without immediately throwing it up and heaving.
• she does get healthier eventually though!! Gains weight, her horns become darker and shinier (i need her to have something going for her ok)
• very isolated and defensive in the beginning while she's adjusting to everything.
• after MONTHS of recovering with a good support system, she does come back out of her shell. Much more timid at first after all of the initial aggressiveness, and slowly regains more of her old personality traits
• has lots of chronic pain and fatigue- usually comes in flare ups.
• has even more trouble walking than before. The first few months were the worst, while she refused help from anyone except Nate. Would constantly stumble, trip, and jerk around as she walked because of how badly her ankles and knees were damaged from the AS.
• eventually got in a better place and let others help her more- like physical therapy sessions but no one is licenced! She still struggles, walks with a limp and wears knee/ankle braces, but it's much more manageable than before.
• uses a crutch during bad flare ups or when walking for extended periods of time
• pining HARDDDD FOR UZIII even in the beginning when they didn't like each other lol
They were both just fearful and on edge around each other, and especially with Cyn assuming Uzi still hates her guts or wants to kill her, they tended to snap at each other from the tension. Things obviously ease up eventually though :3
Alright, this monstrosity of a post is long enough. I'll try to work on Uzi or Nate next! Theirs shouldn't be quite as long since this is mostly a very cyn focused au.
#murder drones#artists on tumblr#murder drones art#murder drones au#murder drones furry au#furry au#murder drones cyn#md cyn#cynessa#md cynessa#cyntessa#cyn#cyn x uzi#murder drones uzi#absolute solver#absolute salvation#thatbugkidd art#that bug kidd md furry au#md tbk furry au ref#md furry au ref#cw artistic nudity#tw artistic nudity
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I don’t know how people keep coming up with the worst takes on things, but here we are.
You wanna be logical about this? Okay fine.
Jinx locked her in the cell. She can’t get out. Even if she thinks she’s going to commit suicide, there’s nothing she can do about it. She’s locked in the cell. We don’t know how long it is before Caitlyn shows up. Could’ve been hours. There’s a war about to happen. No amount of hunting for Jinx is going to stop that. She doesn’t know where Jinx’s hideout is anyway. The chances of her FINDING her sister is slim to none now. Also, this is a prison. There are guards everywhere. Even if Jinx tries to leave, she’s likely going to get caught again and just thrown back into another cell. And even if she escapes, the possibilities are extremely low Vi will ever be able to find her and… need I remind you… a war is on the way. She’s got maybe a few hours at best before it gets here and kills everyone. She’s betrayed Caitlyn’s trust and lost her sister and she’s stuck in the cell. There’s nothing left for her.
So when Caitlyn comes in and tells her she expected to find her there and informs her that no, actually, she let her sister go and didn’t try to kill her or lock her back up and is letting go of the anger Jinx has had on her mind and that it’s okay that she tried to free her sister, Vi snaps. Because in that moment the ONLY person she has left is Caitlyn. And Caitlyn, the woman who’s been trying to kill her sister and broke up with her because Vi wouldn’t kill her sister, just informed her that she’s letting her sister go free. Which at the end of the day is all Vi really wanted.
And frankly I don’t think Vi really understands how devastated Jinx is. She comes in begging her sister to join up and fight and using her explosive potential to help out in the upcoming battle. She’s thinking of how this fight is going to get hundreds of people killed and she’s trying to build her sister up. From her point of view Jinx just needs a hug and to be told she’s special, because no matter how hard vi tries she’s always going to see Jinx as Powder. And while she has good intentions, this is NOT what Jinx needs to hear right now. Jinx is grieving and Vi is begging her to blow more shit up.
I am SO FUCKING DONE with people like you going “oh logically why wouldn’t she be trying to stop her sister from committing suicide? Why would she just fuck in a cell?! It’s such awkward timing! What bad writing!” Because you guys never stop and think about the character’s motivations.
YOU know jinx is suicidal. YOU know she is not doing well. But Vi doesn’t. Vi is blinded by Powder. She still doesn’t see Jinx or understand what Jinx has gone through. The idea that her sister is suicidal doesn’t even cross her mind. That fight in the tomb? Just her being crazy again. Jinx being theatrical again. Nothing new.
Fucking hell… that’s WHY Jinx locks her in the cell. Because even after everything they’ve gone through, she still sees her as powder. The “you’re never going to give up on me are you?” line is Jinx realizing that Vi will never truly see her as Jinx. That’s WHY she locks Vi in the cell. Because Jinx needs to leave this endless cycle and let Vi be able to move on. That’s why she tells her she doesn’t need to worry about her anymore or feel guilty and that she deserves to be happy with Caitlyn.
So yeah, they fuck in the cell because in that moment, Vi has lost everything. She doesn’t know if Jinx is alive or dead, she doesn’t know if she can find her before the war hits and potentially kills everyone and herself, and she’s gone behind Caitlyn’s back to release Jinx. She’s at her lowest point, with no time to do anything productive, and the girl of her dreams just informed her that it’s okay she betrayed her because she’s so god damn predictable and that’s something she loves about Vi, and that she’s letting her hatred of Jinx go. This is Caitlyn confirming to Vi that is was okay for her to love her sister that much. The one thing Vi has been repeatedly told by everyone around her she can’t do.
So this is VI’s emotions EXPLODING at the thought she still has one thing good left in her life. And she is going to take it NOW because this tension has been building and building for such a long time it NEEDS RELEASE. In that moment there’s no logic. No thought to the real world or what could be. It is pure emotional INSTINCT. Caitlyn has offered herself up on a silver platter and she is going to EAT.
The amount of effort you guys put into trying to misunderstand the characters, the scenes, and the intention behind the dialogue is ASTOUNDING. You should be awarded a medal for being so mind numbingly REDUCTIVE in your “criticisms.”
saw these comments on an edit on tt and they really made me stop and rethink for a second, especially the second comment ...
#arcane#arcane s2#arcane season 2#arcane critical#arcane rant#violyn#sebian lex#arcane jinx#arcane vi
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Limbo
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: You and Yoongi have been friends for over a year, but when Yoongi realizes that his feelings for you might be something more, he pulls away, fearing the pains of the past will repeat themselves. You just want to give him the love he deserves; can he accept it, or will he hide away from you?
Word Count: 3.5k(whoops lol)
Warnings: 18+ mdni, angst, mutual pining, mentions of drinking, swearing, mentions of bad/toxic past relationships, eventual smut at the end, handjob, subby Yoongi bc I said so, not proofread
A/N: I got several requests while I was gone wanting some angst to fluff/smut with Yoongi, so I kinda combined them all into this mess hehe. It def got away from me, but I hope you'll all enjoy it!
Masterlist
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It’s strange how little things that seem almost insignificant at first glance, take on so much more meaning to us than we ever expect them to. Songs on the radio, a specific perfume or food, random little trinkets that can be found in almost any gift shop. Like the keychain that Yoongi fiddled with absentmindedly as he rode the elevator up to his friend Hee-jun’s apartment.
The tiny bear figure was nothing particularly remarkable on its own, but it had come to hold a certain sense of peace for Yoongi whenever he held onto it, like his own little good luck charm, something to help keep him centered when he was feeling overwhelmed, much like now as he stepped into his friends crowded apartment.
He quickly found his usual place, tucked safely into the corner of the sofa, steering clear of the noise and chaos of the main group as they talked and drank.
His friend was always encouraging him to come over for his weekend hangouts, insisting to Yoongi that all the energy and music would help clear his head and give him inspiration for work. Yoongi wasn’t particularly in the mood for this much noise and stimuli though. He’d spent the better part of the past week holed up in his studio working several new songs, though his results had been underwhelming by his standards. He was tired and had half a mind to just slip back out the door and go home without saying anything.
His mood however perked up instantly as he caught sight of a familiar figure slipping through the front door, his eyes following you as you grabbed a drink and glanced about the room, your face breaking into a huge grin as you spotted him watching you.
“I thought you said you weren’t coming this week?” You asked, taking the empty seat next to him. “What happened to “I’m too busy being a musical genius” or whatever?”
“I was persuaded otherwise.” He replied dryly, ignoring your growing amused grin.
“I’m glad.” You said.
“Didn’t say it was you, I’m just here to get back the whiskey that Hee-Jun owes me, one glass at a time.” He responded, tipping back the last of his drink as he spoke, making you laugh.
“Whatever you say, bro.” You relented.
“Yah! I’ve told you not to call me bro.” He complained.
The two of you fell into your usual routine of conversation and bickering, much the same as every other night you had spent together since you’d first met over a year ago, when Hee-jun had invited you to a group dinner and introduced you to everyone.
Yoongi had found himself instantly charmed by you, your friendly but sarcastic attitude matching his perfectly. He had spent the majority of that first night talking eagerly with you, much to the surprise of the others, not used to seeing this side of Yoongi.
Your friendship had quickly grown after that. He had found himself completely drawn in by you, finding it remarkably easy to talk with you and wanting to learn every little thing about you. Yoongi’s friends loved to tease him about his being whipped for you, pointing out things like how he always claimed that he was too busy to hang out with them, but he somehow always managed to make time for you, but he didn’t pay them much mind. He was happy around you, really truly happy. He felt safe and comfortable with you, which was something that didn’t come very easy for Yoongi.
There were times though, usually on late nights when you were still hanging out long after one of you should’ve gone home, when he would wonder if there was some truth to his friend’s jokes, feeling a faint but insistent twinge in his chest, as if something were struggling for freedom, but he quelled it down, passing it off as just a passing thought, a flicker of something that didn’t really mean anything… Right?
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of drinks and talking to you and his friends over the too loud music until late. He was in the middle of a discussion with one of the members when he felt a sudden weight against his shoulder.
Glancing down, he was met with your sleeping figure, your face nuzzled against the material of his jacket,
All at once, that twisting feeling in his chest had returned, far more pronounced and forceful than usual, his heart stuttering like the moments before the drop on a rollercoaster. His mind went blank as he stared down at you, a familiar warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his system.
Fuck, he loved you.
He loved you, with your dumb jokes and peach flavored lip balm, your terrible playlists and your quiet little hums when you're nervous, and the way you hid behind your hands when you laughed. He loved every little thing about you and he suddenly can’t breathe as he stared down at your sleeping form, taking in how perfectly you fit against his side. He stayed there for a while, not quite sure what to do now.
“Y/n?” He whispered.
“Mhm.” You stirred, shifting closer, but not fully surfacing from sleep.
He was quiet for a second, mind whirring as he tried to decide what action he should take.
He could just tell you, nudge you again gently till you woke properly, blinking up at him all drowsy and confused and utterly adorable.
“I think… I love you.” The words were simple enough in theory, mumbled out as his dark eyes bore into your own, begging for this to not be a mistake.
For a moment you didn’t move, staring as if unsure of what you’d heard, before suddenly pushing yourself up, seeking out his lips.
He wrapped his arms around you, savoring the taste of you as he pulled you closer, letting out a soft groan as your hands found their way into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp and raising goosebumps over his whole body-
The sound of glass breaking in the kitchen behind the two of you shattered the moment, ripping Yoongi roughly from his daydream.
“Yah, you see?! This is why I don’t let you help!” Jin scolded loudly.
“It wasn’t my fault!” Joon snapped back, equally loud.
“How was that not-?!”
The chaos from the kitchen had pulled you from sleep, sitting up quickly and blinking around in confusion and concern.
“What happened?” You asked groggily, shaking off the last hints of sleep.
“It’s just the guys being dumb-asses, don’t worry.” He assured you, but he shifted away subtly, a strange sense of relief flooding his system.
Mumbling out a faint excuse, he ducked down the hall to the bathroom, catching sight of his expression in the mirror as he splashed some water on his face in an attempt to clear his head.
His cheeks were flushed a deep rosy hue, his eyes slightly too big, pupils blown wide.
What the fuck was wrong with him?! He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t say those things to you. He’d fallen down that hole before, letting his feelings get the better of him confessing, only to be viciously rejected. Or worse yet, having his feelings falsely returned, and ending up with his heart twisted into something he didn’t even recognize for the other person's benefit and pleasure, leaving him to pick up the warped pieces when they had used him up.
He couldn’t let that happen with you, he couldn’t risk ruining one of the best friendships he’s had in years over some stupid infatuation.
Taking care not to be noticed, he silently slipped out the door and made his way home, sending a half-assed text to you and his other friends about not feeling well before turning his phone off and flopping onto his bed.
He would fix this, he promised to himself, he just needed to give his little crush some time to run its course and get out of his system, like a cold or the flu. In the meantime, he decided it would be best to put some space between the two of you, try and wean himself off the dependency that he had developed with you. It wasn’t good for him to ‘need’ someone as much as he did you, it would only lead to regret if he wasn’t careful.
He could do this, he tried to convince himself. He could correct these feelings and go back to how your friendship was before.
He had to.
For the next few weeks, he did his best to avoid you without being too obvious, claiming things like busy schedules as why he was suddenly never around.
He tried to convince himself that this was necessary and the better of two options, but the full truth was that he was miserable.
He hadn’t realized just how much you had been seeped into his day to day life until he tried to go without you. There were no silly texts convos to keep his spirits up during the day, his evenings dull and quiet, no warm laughter or teasing jokes to pull a smile out of him, no encouraging touches on his hand when he was feeling frustrated or random little backhugs that brought more peace and comfort than he ever thought was possible.
He knew he could easily remedy the situation and just face his feelings and talk to you, but the ghosts of his past kept creeping up on him, whispering in his ear that he would ruin everything if he dared open himself like that again.
His heart argued however with him constantly in your defence. This time it could be different, you were so different from all those people in his past, so kind and warm and patient.
He knew deep down that you would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, but his fear left him in a constant state of limbo, frustrated with himself and confused about how to move forward.
He decided to take Holly on a long walk to try and help clear his head, fidgeting with the tiny bear charm on his keyring in his pocket as he often did when he was frustrated.
Even this made his thoughts circle back to you. You’d given it to him not long after you’d become friends, having taken him out for dinner one evening when he had been having a tough week. You’d wandered around the city without any real plans, eating snacks from street vendors, talking and goofing around till he felt his chest finally begin to lighten. You’d won the keychain charm in a random gatcha capsule machine and had insisted that it resembled him, dropping it in his hand and saying that he should keep it as a good luck charm.
He’d humored you somewhat reluctantly at first, but he’d found himself toying with the charm whenever he was anxious or uneasy, a sense of comfort and certainty creeping through him whenever he held onto it, your words echoing through his mind.
Apparently the universe was as fed up with Yoongi’s bullshit as he was, deciding that since he wouldn’t make a decision on his own, it would give him a push in the form of you on his doorstep as he returned home with Holly from their walk.
The tiny dog rushed to greet you, having missed your presence almost as much as his owner had the past few weeks, excitedly bouncing around your feet as you tried to pet him.
Hi buddy.” You giggled before glancing up to meet Yoongi’s eye. “Hey Yoongs.”
“H-hey.” He swallowed nervously. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d say hi.” You said, still playing with Holly.
He watched the two of you, a tiny smile making its way across his face as he took in the way your expression lit up as you cooed over the little poodle, your smile warming him more than the lingering hints of summer in the air, instantly weaving your way back into his heart.
“You wanna come in?” The words had a slight wobble as they left his mouth, as if he was asking himself more than you.
You nodded. “I’d like that.”
He let the three of you into the house, debating awkwardly on what he should do before settling next you on the sofa.
It was quiet for a moment, neither of you quite knowing where to start.
“So, how’s the new album going?” You offered.
The two of you talked for a while, quickly falling back into your usual routine, talking about everything from work to friends to the new project you’d been working on, but there was clearly an unspoken ‘something’ hanging in the air between you, Yoongi gradually losing himself in just listening and watching you, the way your eyes flashed as you spoke, the way you talked through your hands.
It was several minutes before you noticed the way he was staring at you, his eyes distant, an almost dreamy glaze over them.
“What?” You asked.
He shrugged.
“You just look happy.” He replied.
“I am happy.” You confirmed, lightly shoving his shoulder. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”
Your words sent a quiet thrill through him, warm and hopeful, but your next words also triggered a twinge of guilt.
“I’ve missed this, you, the past few weeks.” You admitted, playing with your hands on your lap. “I was honestly starting to think you were avoiding me.” You laughed nervously, trying to lighten the weight behind your words.
He was silent for a moment, the decision that he’d been avoiding hanging in the air again.
“Actually… I kinda was.” He admitted. “No, I know I was.”
Your expression fell. “Why? Did I do something-?”
“No no, it wasn’t anything you did.” He quickly assured you. “It was-, it was a ‘me thing’ I needed to figure out.”
“What kind of thing?” You asked.
He hesitated.
Fuck it.
“The fact that I haven’t been honest with myself, or you, about a lot of things, like the fact that I like you… as more than a friend.”
Your mouth fell open at his admission, but Yoongi pressed on, fearing that if he stopped now, he might never get it out.
He laid everything out, his feelings for you and his fears and scars from the past and why he pulled away from you, his gaze never straying from the ground in front of him as he spoke.
“Through all of this, I realized a couple things.” He said.
You waited for him to continue.
“I could live without you, but I would fucking hate it.” He finally glanced up at you, his eyes unusually vulnerable.
“I hated not seeing you, hated not hearing your laugh, not smelling your perfume of your stupid coffee order in my car after driving you to work. I hated it, but it was all my own fault, because I was too much of a coward to admit that I liked you more than I thought was possible, more than I should. “
“Yoongi-” You tried. but he kept going.
“And you can tell me to fuck off and that you don’t feel the same, and I’ll gladly leave you alone, or go back to being just friends, but I just wanted-”
“Yoongi, shut up.” You said, not harshly, but firmly enough to snap his mouth closed instantly.
His heart pounded loudly in his chest, the silence stretching between you deafening as he waited for you to speak
“You really think you’re the only one who’s been feeling like this? Who’s been afraid?” You asked quietly, your voice trembling with emotion. “You think I haven’t thought about if we?... If I told you…” You took an unsteady breath, Yoongi staring at you in disbelief. “Why did you say something before-?
“I was afraid,” He admitted, feeling tears beginning to prick at his eyes. “Afraid that you wouldn’t want this. Or worse, that you would.”
Your eyes saddened as you reached out, fingers brushing against his cheek. “Why would that be worse?”
“Because I don’t wanna break this, I don’t wanna lose you” He whispered, his voice cracking. “Not when you mean so much to me.”
Suddenly, the distance between you felt unbearable, the space filled with the weight of thousands of unspoken feelings.
Before he could think, you closed the gap, leaning so close you could feel each other's shaky breaths, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.
“Say it,” You whispered, the words barely audible. “I won’t hurt you… just say it.”
For a moment, you thought he might retreat, that he might hide behind the walls he’d built around himself again. But then his gaze softened, a quiet resolve settling into his chest.
“I love you,” He breathed, the words falling from his lips easily, soft and unguarded. “I love you so fucking much.”
He leaned in, letting his forehead rest against yours, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. His touch was gentle, reverent, as if you might disappear if he held on too tightly.
But you weren’t going anywhere. Not when you’d just been offered the world in his hands.
You couldn’t find your words. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing against his in a way that felt both brand new and familiar all at once, like finally coming home.
The world around you melted away, his arms wrapped around you tightly, shielding you from everything that could ever dare try to distract from this moment, pulling you close, feeling how perfectly you pressed against him.
His lips were soft and warm on yours, his touch achingly tender, every brush of his fingers against your skin like a spark of electricity.
When you finally broke apart, breathless, his eyes stayed scrunched closed, as if trying to savor every ounce of this feeling.
His fingers traced gentle paths up and down your arms to your shoulders, his breath warm against your skin.
“I don’t know-,” He whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability and need, drawing away slightly. “Fuck, I want so much, but I don’t know if we should-”
“Don’t hide away from me again, please.” You begged, following him to keep close, your lips brushing against his as you spoke, sending shivers rippling through him. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but don’t be don’t hide. Show me what you need. Please.”
At your words, Yoongi felt the last remnants of his fear crumble away, replaced only by a deep craving and need for you.
Crushing his lips to yours again, he gave himself over to the kiss fully, gripping your waist and pulling you to straddle him properly.
His lips trailed down down your jaw to your neck, sucking marks on the sensitive skin as he went and causing you to writhe and squirm in his hold, grinding down against the growing bulge in his pants.
He let out a pained groan.
“Touch me, god please, touch me.” He begged into your neck, bucking up into you desperately.
There was a blur of fumbling with buttons and zippers, your shirt thrown away somewhere behind the sofa, leaving your heaving chest bare for him to paw amd suck at hungrily.
You snaked a hand between you to stroke his aching length through his boxers, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he bucked up into your touch, moaning into your skin.
“Please.” He begged, for what he didn’t even fully know.
You shifted back just enough to free him from the confines of his underwear, his cock springing up against his abdomen, the tip red and leaking, desperate for any sort of relief.
As he watched through glazed-over eyes, you let your spit drip down onto his cock for lubrication, wrapping your hand around him and stroking him slowly to spread it over him, reveling in the way he twitched and whined under your touch.
“Fuck, Y/n, m-more please.” He moaned, his hips bucking up to chase your hand.
You sped up your movements, twisting your wrist just right as he clung to you, your foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air. The whole thing almost felt more intimate than if he were actually inside you.
”I-, fuck, I’m gonna-” He panted, pulsing in your grip.
“Let go baby, I got you.”
He came with a shuddering groan, curling into you as he painted your hand with streaks of white that dribbled back down onto his twitching length, making him shiver with oversensitivity.
“Fuck, Y/n, that was, I-” He struggled to catch his breath, leaning against you heavily.
“Yoongi?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you too.” You kissed his lips lightly, moving to detangle yourself from him so you could clean the two of you up, when he caught you by the waist, pulling you back down on the sofa, pinning you under him, his eyes dark as they stared into yours.
“Where do you think you’re going, darling? We’re just getting started.”
“Now it’s your turn.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz
#bts x reader#bts x y/n#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x reader#yoongi drabble#yoongi scenarios#yoongi smut#yoongi oneshot#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#bts smut#bts angst#bts drabble#bts one shot#bts oneshot#bts requests#7ndipity
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Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)
DC x Pjo
Part 12
______________________________
Present
"is that a ferry?" I ask, the hippocampus got closer and we saw something that said "Princess Andromeda", and the figurehead is a wooden woman tied to it
Princess Andromeda... Who?
Ah..
The wife of Perseus son of Zeus, she was to be sacrificed to Poseidon but Perseus saved her
How weird of her to have a ship, you personally, certainly won't step foot into the ocean after you were about to be sacrificed to it
A middle aged man scolds his three kids for jumping in the pool and points at a sign, a dog that looks somewhat human that looks like it belongs in the deepest pits of hell is in line for the buffet
You freeze up, is that an empousa?? A monster playing poker with a mortal human?
You look around and see variations of monsters and humans, seemingly happy in the cruise
What is this? Monster human united nations?
Don't get me wrong, you're not racist, it's just that monsters typically eat humans, so it's okay that you find it weird that a snake haired monster with poison blood is gambling with Jeff
(not Medusa, but gorgons)
"Is this a trap? A knockoff Lotus Hotel & Casino?" Percy scoffs
Annabeth holds your hand in a tight grip "Could be... But we don't know what it does, no one eat anything here"
"Lotus Hotel...?" You ask
Percy looks at you "Yeah... It's some magic hotel where time passes really slowly, like so slow, it's different for everyone, I met a guy there from the 70's and when I asked he said he'd only been there for two days, we felt we were only there for a couple of hours but it's actually been five days"
Oh shit.
"is... Is this hotel in Vegas?" You look nervous, Annabeth furrowed her brows "Yes, have you encountered it? It's dangerous and normal people wouldn't know how to get out"
"oh fuck... I may have been, no definitely, I should be older than I am right now, when my family and I were on a mi- vacation, I went inside this hotel, I was only there for like 20 minutes but they claimed I was gone for two years... I- holy shit. I was stuck in a hotel for two years" you exclaim
"how did you not know that was a trap? Have you not read the Odyssey? The lotus island and the lotus eaters?? I thought you were a fan of Greek mythology?" Annabeth asked
You roll your eyes "Well I'm sorry I didn't think a hotel was going to be related to a magical lotus island"
Tyson's face got sad "that scary... How you got out?"
"I don't know... All I remember was a pageant in the hotel, it was an event and- Oh." You stop
______________________________
Past
"Wow... This place is actually kind of nice" you look around the glistening chandeliers and observe the clamoring people
A servant smiles at you, seemingly ignoring your vigilante costume "Would you like a lotus flower? They're complementary"
It won't hurt you to take one right?
So you did.
"hey.. um where's the way out?" You ask
The smile on the servant's face doesn't drop "Miss it's so late out at night, you should return to your room"
"but I don't have a room-" you feel a key card in your pocket, you did have a room
So you go there, you enter the gigantic room, it was like for royalty, the sheets were so silky, the pillows were so soft, you opened the cabinet to find a set of clothes
Your suit is beginning to feel itchy anyways, you take a shower and put on the clothes, you find on the night stand a platinum card
What were you here for again?
You get out of the room, you hear people laughing
"you should go down there young lady! There is a pageant! There is this beautiful maiden, more beautiful compared to the others!" A man says, he was wearing clothing so old fashioned you'd thought he was from the regency era
Well, a pageant sounds fun!
In the hotel ballroom people were staring... Not at the contestants, well, yes the contestants, but one, one special lady
"Good evening LA!" She laughs
How captivating... , you think
She turns and sees you, she stops smiling "(Name)? What? What are you doing here?"
Did she just call you?
Oh gosh she just said your name!
"you're not supposed to be here!" She floats, yup floats and you're shocked, she grabs your hand and she walks you to the entrance of the hotel, the servants who were eager to help everyone was avoiding her gaze and now staying far from you
At the entrance she gestures you get out of the hotel, so you did
A bunch of guys approach you, you don't know who they are
A few minutes pass by
"guys what happened to the mission?" You ask
______________________________
Annabeth: why didn't you know the hotel was magic?
You: idk maybe because in the book it was an island?!
______________________________
@yunloyal @sirenetheblogger @00hellohello00 @spqce-bun @casspen-starlight @eyeless-kun @ghostdoodlen @ratchetprime211 @delias-stuff @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7 @wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @chinxinsomnia @nathaly36 @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @ceramic-raven @sweetconnoisseurgardener @dhanyasri @bella-wolf100 @shortnsweetsposts @roseapov @d3sperate-enuf @d3kstar
#dc universe#dcu#percy jackson#warmyanderepjoxdc#percy jackon and the olympians#percy pjo#yandere#yandere batfam#yandere platonic
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Ekko Location
Ekko:*thousand yard stare*….
Caitlyn:(Should I tell him? No, false hope doesn’t do any good. Especially in this case.) *looks left*
Giant mural of Jinx
Caitlyn:….Ekko?
Ekko:What could you possibly want after everything?
Caitlyn:Hopefully, an olive branch. I have to tell you something but you have to promise to not get your hopes up, or tell Vi. This is something I’m trusting with you specifically.
Ekko:And how in the world did I get such an honor?
Caitlyn:Because if it wasn’t for one act of kindness, I’d be in your shoes right now.
Ekko:…What do you have to tell me?
xxxxxx
One month later. Somewhere across the water, in a nice quaint land known for its view of the ocean and mountains, a cloaked girl bobs her head to music as she roams the back alleys streets without a care in her mind.
Jinx: 🎶Do you ever wanna catch me?Right now I'm feeling ignored. *turns corner*
Jinx:So can you try a little harder? I'm really getting bor-
Ekko:*cloaked* !?….
Jinx:…..(Just when I thought I’ve wrangled all the voices. This is a low blow, me.) *closes eyes* (Just gonna breathe in and-)
Ekko:*grabs her wrist*
Jinx’s eyes immediately shoot open to see him right in front of her. She starts looking back, forth, everywhere; her thoughts trying to rationalize this moment because what do you mean he’s real!?
Jinx:Y- wha- how? How!? Fuck everything else. How?
Ekko:Let’s just say someone offered me a little hope. Honestly it was more like wishful thinking.
Jinx:Ekko, that’s not a “how” at all! You left Zaun to chase wishful thinking? That’s alone is crazy, but not as crazy as you actually finding me! I could’ve gone in any direction and stopped anywhere yet somehow you’re right here searching in the correct city? Gasps Did you put something in me?!
Ekko:What? No! Jinx, we used to spend literal hours talking about all the places we wanted go; the sight ls you wanted to see. Sometimes you rambled so much I never got a word in to say mine!
Jinx:So you’re telling you just remembered all that ramble and started flying to the places I yapped about!? Who the heck remembers stuff like that!?
Ekko:Me!! Since when have I ever forgotten anything!? Especially stuff about you!?
The girl was too stunned to speak. Ekko told no lies and he had a point, however, what the hell? How was she supposed to respond to that? She told absolutely nobody that she was leaving and left no trace, yet somehow wishful thinking from probably the world’s most annoying enforcer and childhood memories was enough for Ekko to find her in a little over a month. Jinx could only squint at him in disbelief. Sure, she could definitely break free of grip and make a break for it, yet this moment only gave her the strength to exhale tiredly before him.
Jinx:Anyone else know?
Ekko:Nope. You think people have time to chase hypotheticals?
Jinx:So you just left??
Ekko:Told them I needed some air. Had to move quickly. You don’t exactly stay in one place for long.
Jinx:…..Alright. Out with it. I know you have some rehearsed lecture and rant you’ve prepared in case you actually somehow weren’t crazy and found m-
Ekko:*hugs her* I can tell at you later.
Jinx:You really just might be crazier than me.
Her entire body relaxed as she finally put her arms around him. Despite all odds, he really was right here. Leave it the Boy Savior to yet again foil her schemes.
Jinx:At this point I should call you Ekko Location or something.
Ekko:I this point, I should put a fucking bell on you.
Jinx:I’d still get away.
Ekko:And I’d find you again.
Jinx:Heh, yeah. *hugs tightly* You would, wouldn’t you?
#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane headcanon#jinx arcane#ekko arcane#ekkojinx#timebomb#it came to me in a dream#caitlyn kiramman
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#also phone addiction is real its just not recognized as a disorder by the APA just like how certain illnesses are thought to not exist#but are still real. if we follow ur logic anyways i really just care to at least be having the convo but not in this rude way but i'll give#u the benefit of doubt no hard feelings#thanks for participating
So first of all... No, the APA does not recognize smarphone addiction as a disorder. Second of all, the APA doesn't recognize disorders that are not in the DSM, and smartphone addiction is not in the DSM 5TR (our current edition). Third, it's also not recognized as a disorder by the International Classification of Disorders (ICD), either. Fourth, there's literally no diagnostic criteria for "phone addiction," which proves that is, undoubtedly, not a real disorder. No one can be diagnosed with phone addiction, that doesn't exist. Fifth, A LOT of money and time and research has gone into proving it, and other behavior disorders, because treating those would be a lot easier, cheaper, and more stable to the current power structures than treating the systematic problems that lead to these unhealthy and unhelpful behaviors. This is not me invalidating, it's me correcting your unscientific use of language. Thanks for participating.
That said, my response actually wasn't mad or arguing with you, though I see how you got there. When I said "I hate this," I didn't mean "I hate you op" I meant "I hate that this perspective shuts down conversation about structural problems." Because from what I read in this thread, the other poster in this thread was like "lets talk about the social problems going on here instead of how sad it is people are doing this" and then you responded "I don't think we should talk about that, because we all know it's disordered and sad" which shuts down the point the other poster was trying to make, which was "lets talk about how we got here". This is something I've observed often when discussing these kinds of issues and it bothers me that when someone tries to open the door to systemic talk, people shut it down.
over a million likes and everyone in the comments talking about how they’d rather talk to an ai because it meets their emotional needs, this is the new epidemic.
#i also think its a bit disingenuous for you to take a very holier than thou approach with me while you were the one hurling snarky comments#like “thanks for participating” and the condescension you just threw at me here#and that was based on a perception of aggression that wasn't present#anyway i'm not interested in arguing about who's arguing who#because my whole point for responding to this post at all was to say that sociological problems cannot be cured by psychological theories#and interventions. if you don't want to discuss that#and would rather critique language#then i think that says all we need to know about your character and intentions in this moment#so i hope that's not actually true#and you do care about the material you posted#and engaging in good faith discussion about it
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Tim admits this was… definitely a bad idea. But in his defense he could not be blamed for anything he decides after an intense case. He stayed up for a consecutive 74 hours and then crashed for 2 days straight so… really it's Kon's fault for taking the suggestion seriously.
Tim and Kon are at Olive Garden on a small date, nothing too serious. However like the fool Tim is he's disguised so he doesn't get recognized as 'Timothy Jackson Drake' or 'Tim Wayne' and since he's still very out of it at the moment he's not really putting much of a mask on so the confidence is gone, and he's still so tired so the comprehension is a little… off right now.
He forgot about the dreaded 'how much Parmesan do you want' question for dishes and after a minute it just got too awkward to say anything. So here they are, Tim dying inside while the waiter (who's definitely a meta cause where the hell is all that cheese coming from?) grates the 5th block of Parmesan. Kon is laughing the traitor that he is and at this point it's also a little bit of a challenge on his and the waiters end.
"Is this good enough for your exquisite tastes?" The waiter, Lora (god they are getting a minimum of a 500$ tip), asks him very pointedly while looking directly in his eyes and aggressively grating.
Tim can feel an angel and demon on his shoulder. 'More! A mountain of cheese! All the cheese in the restaurant!' is what his angel is saying. The demon is… cruel in the way they want cheese.
God maybe Tim should've stayed asleep. He stares the waiter in the eyes (uncomfortable but he's had to look Becca directly in her beady eyes and tell her that her ex-husband was wrong for leaving. Tim gave said husband the courage to leave. This is nothing.) and makes a 'go on' gesture.
Tim blinks and suddenly three feet have been added to the height of the cheese mountain and holy shit. Using powers for the most petty reason is 100% what he would do. He respects Lora so much right now.
"Tim.. Hon… You're lactose intolerant that is way more than enough." Once Kon was able to get his breath back he tries putting an end to this madness but Tim is committed. So is Lora, if the way her eyes dart over to Kon in a challenge is any indication.
"No. Lactose intolerance is a weakness and I will train it out." Why is he not backing out oh god what the fuck is he thinking.
"Oh, would you like more help with that? We have some more… brutal cheeses for lactose intolerance. I can grab some mozzarella, or brie, or any other soft cheeses." Oh my god. Tim's gonna die here. He's gonna die cause he's too stubborn. Although he respects the hell out of Lora right now. He's entertaining the idea of her becoming a hero. Or villain. Either would fit.
Anyway. That sounds like a challenge, and Tim doesn't back down from challenges like that. "That would be wonderful, thank you." Eye contact has not been broken. Janet would be proud of him.
Eventually there is a 10 foot tall mountain of cheese on his plate and a ladder next to the table. And now he'd feel like a dick if he doesn't eat it all but also holy fuck he is severely lactose intolerant.
Kon's head is making a dent in the table. Tim will fully understand if Kon needs a break after this.
He can see Lora blatantly staring him down from across the restaurant and well that's just another fucking challenge.
Slowly, (but not too slowly, no that would be showing weakness) he finishes the plate. And honestly he completely forgot what he had originally ordered until he got to the bottom of it and by then it was just such a cheesy mess he can't even tell if it was supposed to be spaghetti or some version of American Alfredo. He eats it anyway.
Lora comes over soon after, fake smile barely hiding fury, and asks if he wants seconds. It's a challenge and Tim doesn't refuse challenges… but Tim is also not dumb and so he declines. He swears he sees disappointment in her eyes.
She lets him pay the bill and tip her (looking at him slightly when he gives her a thousand dollars, which causes him to put down another thousand in her hand) and soon after they're set to leave.
Tim does however hear her say something about using the money to put little rockets on a skateboard instead of something useless like rent and honestly? Tim might have found his best civilian (for now) friend.
They leave Olive Garden 2,043$ less rich (not really) and Tim with a new contact and a promise to personally build her a skateboard that easily reaches 90 mph.
He's praying no one recognized him and he won't wake up to the news calling him out. He could never live it down.
(He was in fact recognized, but by one of the Bat-Clan and when he opens his bedroom there is an absurd amount of cheese everywhere. He blames Jason.)
(It was Damian.)
#tim drake#connor kent#batfamily#chaotic tim drake#damian wayne#tim drake is a menace#damian bought so much vegan cheese the cashier was looking at him so confused and concerned#kon was recording the whole thing#lora also ends up joining the titans. and then a day later becoming a villain and specifically becoming one of tim’s rogues
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SKZ Pack Chapter 14
Trigger Warnings: Chan is a meanie, angst
"What do you mean she was gone from your sight, Minho!" Chan shouted. "She wasn't supposed to leave. I told her. I don't know why you're blaming me! She would have been fine on her own in the covenstead. It's not my fault she is undisciplined." Minho growled in frustration. "You're right. She is undisciplined and reckless, but you should have kept an eye on her, Min. You, of all people, should have known that, " Chan said in frustration.
They had been arguing the past twenty minutes about Y/N following the potential stalker to get a note. Y/N could have easily been jumped or kidnapped. This was so far her stupidest decision and quite frankly Chan was getting fed up with it. Even some of the wolves had commented after today. They understood her recklessness with Ateez because she had Hyunjin and Seungmin, but going solo was something Chan wouldn't tolerate. He had to discipline her, she had been here long enough. "Tell Y/N to come to my office," Chan gruffly said to Minho who nodded and walked off to find Y/N who was currently sitting with Changbin on the sofa. "Chan wants to see you in his office," Minho said as he walked past the living room to head to the cleaning cupboard. "What. Why?" Y/N asked. "Don't know," Minho answered, except he did know, but that was something for her to find out.
When Y/N got up and walked towards Chan's office her blood ran cold. It felt too eerily quiet and she didn't like it. It reminded her of going to see Hongjoong or Wooyoung when she was in trouble and she hated the feeling. It made her feel weak and alone. Right now she didn't want to even knock on the door and go in, but she had to. "Come in," Chan called. His voice was colder than normal. It was distant. Y/N entered the room to see Chan on his computer, typing away. It was almost as if he didn't see her or notice her existence, which wasn't true in the slightest. He was purposely making her feel uncomfortable. He wanted her to understand why she was being punished. "Channie, is everything okay?" Y/N asked meekly. "You tell me little wolf," Chan answered. His arms crossed as he looked at her. "I know it was stupid." Y/N sighed. "But honestly, I wanted to know what they wanted." "Is that all you have to say?" Chan asked. He was shocked at her mere apology.
Chan nodded his head, thinking for a moment before he got up to lean on his desk. His arms were crossed and his chest was puffed out. He was dominating her. Showing her who was the alpha and who wasn't. "Now listen here, Y/N. You have defied every wolf since you've been here. The first time. Fine. I can accept that. You are new to your role. The second time. Alright. The fourth and fifth? Seriously, it's ridiculous at this point, even for an omega like yourself." Chan's voice was low as he emphasised each word so it was branded in her brain. "How many times do we have to keep dealing with you being reckless? Huh? I'm fed up with it because you're not learning your lesson and I'm not punishing my wolves any longer." Chan stated. "There mine too!" Y/N whispered. "I honestly am sorry. I didn't think." "They are not your wolves. You are theirs. You're their omega. That is all. Nothing more. Nothing less. Stop acting like an alpha who can take charge because you're not good at it." Chan answered back. His eyes glancing at her submissive head. She was cowering but also defying him. "Look at me Y/N," Chan called out. " From now on you will not leave this house, until I care to let you out. You will redo your nest because I've seen to it broken. If you defy me once more, you will go downstairs." "Ok," Y/N muttered. Her eyes fixated on the piece of dirt on the floor. She felt embarrassed, humiliated. Worst of all it was him denouncing her completely and destroying her nest that she worked hard on.
When Y/N reached her bedroom her heart shattered. Her nest was gone. Her bedsheets were moved. Blankets were thrown everywhere. Items had been stolen. She felt sick. She couldn't believe he actually did that to her, so Y/N stormed out of her room to find him. "Where the fuck is Chan?" Y/N yelled, frightening Jisung and Jeongin. "He left for work. What's wrong?" Jeongin asked. "My nest. Is broken." Y/N yelled, making Jeongin look down. He had heard Chan was going to punish her but he didn't think he would take it that far. "That was Hyunjin. He broke it. Why don't me and Jisung help you fix it agai-" "Don't bother," Y/N growled as she stomped upstairs straight into Hyunjin's first. Y/N headed towards his wardrobe, pulling out his Versace clothes and ripping them apart, before starting on his bed. She ripped everything apart. Whether that was literally or metaphorically it didn't matter, she was hurt and angry. After she was satisfied she headed towards Chan's office to pull his books off the shelf and messed up his paperwork. She did anything that satisfied her anger.
Jeongin caught her and begged her to stop, stating it wouldn't help but she didn't listen. She was on a mission to relieve her emotions. Jeongin didn't know what to do except follow her pitifully. He felt sad for her. She worked hard on her nest and now it was shattered. "Baby, please don't do this. You'll make it worse." Jeongin cried out again. He wanted it to stop but the wolf growled at him. "At least let me fix your nest. Make it all better." Jeongin begged but the female wolf didn't care. "I honestly couldn't care less," Y/N growled as she shoved him out of the way. Jeongin sulked and walked away back downstairs to Seungmin who hugged the youngest wolf. He was feeling conflicted. Jeongin wanted to call Chan and tell him what he did was wrong but at the same time, it was his fault. Jeongin was the one who told Chan he wasn't happy with her risking things and now he got her punished. "Maybe you shouldn't have done that," Seungmin whispered as he held the younger wolf. "I didn't know he would destroy her nest did I?" Jeongin whined. Jeongin sat up and rubbed his eyes when he heard a bang along with a crash. "What was that?" Jeongin asked. "I think that was your room," Seungmin stated, causing Jeongin to cringe.
Felix came running down into the living room as he saw his mate's angry face going in and out of people's rooms. "What's wrong with baby?" Felix asked as he bit his nails in distress. "Chan punished her for disobedience by destroying her nest-" "HER NEST!" Felix shouted. "That's her safe place. That's something we built together." "I know Lix. I know but we can't do anything now." Jeongin stated. "We can. We can make her happy. We can fix her nest." Felix stressed. "Felix do not go up those stairs," Jeongin commanded causing the beta to whimper, he was hurting because she was hurting. "I have a feeling Chan is not going to like us if we interfere," Jeongin stated worriedly. There was nothing they could do. "Can I at least comfort her? Please." Felix whispered. Before Jeongin could even give permission the beta ran up the stairs and pulled the female wolf into his room, allowing her to growl, hiss and cry. Felix wanted her to let out all the emotions she felt so he could comfort her, but it didn't last long, because Chan came back. "Y/N GET HERE NOW!"
Taglist for the iconic readers:
@galaxy4489 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @pixie0627 @maggicotton @jellymochii @itzreetal987 @jennibahng @vampkittenb82 @catlove83 @thatgirlangelb @hyunmikim @skzdreamer13 @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @tsunderelintz @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @emi-han @iknow-uknow-leeknow @jigglypuff3000 @aalexyuuuhm @missseoulite @ihrtlix @estella-novella @xxeiraxx @fr34k4c1dr41n
~ Taglist closed due to Tumblr only allowing a certain amount ~
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#skz omegaverse#skz abo#skz smut#abanb#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#lee know#lee know x reader#lee know smut#changbin#changbin x reader#changbin smut#hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin smut#han jisung#han jisung x reader#han jisung smut#lee felix#lee felix x reader#lee felix smut#seungmin#seungmin x reader#seungmin smut#jeongin#jeongin x reader
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I don't know if this is common knowledge, but Komaeda's talent in Japanese is not "Ultimate Lucky Student". It is "Ultimate Good Fortune" (or good luck).
I know the word "lucky" has connotations with being good luck, but "luck" itself seems neutral to me at least.
I think the fact Komaeda is praised for, and has his talent be centered on, his good fortune is a very important nuance. People only see the good that happens to him. People keep telling him what happens to him is "good luck". His parents dying and getting kidnapped end up being called "good luck" in the end. I think this reinforces his pattern of thought more than people just saying he has extraordinary luck (good and bad). It's a minor difference, but it adds a lot. I have been thinking about this for a little bit now.
Because of the fact it is good luck specifically, I wanted to find parts where Komaeda specifically talks about bad luck. Lines such as "my awful luck/dreadful luck..." doesn't make much sense in the context of his Japanese talent. It made me wonder if those English lines even existed or if it was a "Luke, I am your father" situation. I don't have either the English or Japanese script memorized.
I checked the Freetime Events because of this, and found an interesting thing. There's a number of mistranslations, or simply translation choices I don't really agree with.
The freetime events heavily misrepresent how often Komaeda uses the word "luck". He uses both 不幸 and 不運 an equal amount I'd say. Maybe the former more. The former means "misery" "sorrow" or "misfortune". The latter means "bad luck" or "ill-fortune".
Likewise, 幸運 means good luck, but it also means good fortune. It's the word used in his talent as I described above.
Now, that's not to say I think Komaeda's "talent" should not be referred to as luck, nor am I saying he should never use the word luck. I think good and bad luck is a perfectly apt English word to describe his experiences. I just think the English translation overuses it. It wouldn't have killed them to make him say "isn't that just awful" or "what a tragedy, right?" instead of "isn't that such bad luck?" every conceivable moment. Maybe I'm just nit picky.
Now, onto the free time events. I want to talk about them.
I'll be talking about them in order as they appear. Also, I am only going to talk about the 3rd event onward, after Komaeda's chapter 1 reveal.
Freetime event 3
A minor nitpick, but "friends" is not the word I'd use here. It's true you can translate it that way, but considering everything else about Komaeda, at this point in the game, he wouldn't readily call Hinata his friend. Especially considering the connotations that holds for him.
That's precisely likely why he, in fact, doesn't say "friend" in the Japanese text. He uses 仲間 which like I said, while can and does translate as friend when used in that way, it just means people of a common thread. Like, a group, I guess.
My TL:
Because we both share the common goal of seeking out hope!
Freetime event 4
This is a really bad translation IMO. Hope is never said once in the original dialogue. I don't know why they put it there.
My TL:
Hinata: It's pretty ironic that you got wrapped up in this shitshow considering your "Ultimate Good Luck". Komaeda: It's not ironic at all! This is no doubt just the beginning of the good things to come my way! Komaeda: Um, let's just say the "good luck" I was born with is a little less straightforward [than the name would suggest]... Komaeda: once this is all over, I'll be rewarded with good fortune of the highest caliber.
And though this next one isn't much of a "mistranslation", I want to offer an alternative translation that highlights my criticism of "overusing the words good/bad luck".
My TL:
Komaeda: The greater the misfortune I experience before hand...the greater the good that comes my way afterwards! It completely cancels out everything before it!
Freetime event 5
I sadly cannot find in-game pictures of this since it's one of the wrong dialogue choices, so here's the script file text for it instead (sorry)
I remembered this line in English specifically because I always thought it sounded weird for Komaeda to say - "It's rare to hear you give such a half-assed answer".
While not a mistranslation totally, I think the tone is a bit off.
I would write it more as, "Ah ha ha! That's quite the answer, Hinata-kun!"
It literally translates as "for Hinata-kun, that is a very suitable answer!" but it's clearly supposed to be teasing/sarcastic. So he means to say "oh, wow, Hinata-kun, you're answering with that?" but in a lighthearted tone.
Freetime event 6
Almost didn't include this because it's the mistranslation we all know and hate, but it's worth mentioning in case people don't know.
My TL:
Please, just one last thing...don't ever forget...that from the bottom of my heart, I love y...I love your hope that sleep dormant inside you.
Though he does just say "please, don't forget", he uses どうか which is a pretty polite turn of phrase for Komaeda. It also is a way to emphasize a request, as in please do this to the benefit of me.
He backtracks pretty heavily. The verb comes at the end in Japanese sentences, so giving an exact one-to-one would be hard, but I'll try to explain it.
ボクはキミを... キミの中に眠る希望を心から愛していると。
Boku wa Kimi wo... Kimi no naka ni nemuru kibou wo koko kara aishiteiru to.
の/no = possessive. Such as, "Lucy's cat" "David's car".
を/wo = verb particle. There's no real English equivalent but you use it to signify some verb is being done onto something. Such as, "I kicked the ball" ("ball wo kick") or "I pet the cat" ("cat wo pet").
は/wa = topic particle. Commonly translates as "is/am" but that is NOT what it means. It just signifies everything that comes after it relates back to what comes before it. It's most accurate to think it as "as for the topic of..." Such as, "my damaged car wa had to go into the repair shop." After wa, "had to go into the repair shop", you ask, "what had to go into the repair shop?" you can find the answer in the topic, which is before wa: my damaged car. (or... me no damaged car.)
So, with this knowledge, let's break down the sentence.
Boku = I/me.
Kimi = you.
So this would make Boku wa Kimi wo in it's most literal form: as for the topic of me (aka, speaking for me), I, onto you...
Then he trails off. wo becomes no.
I, onto your hope sleeping inside of you...
and then we return to wo:
from the bottom of (one's) heart, love [the hope sleeping inside of you].
One could easily see it as Komaeda quickly changing the wo to no to add extra steps to not make the confession so head-on. Because if we remove everything after no and just continue where the wo leaves off, we get:
Boku wa Kimi wo koko kara aishiteiru to.
As for me, I, from the bottom of my heart, love you.
Now...one could also read it as him not backtracking, but adding. Saying I love you and the hope that lies dormant within you. Both are equally plausible. Listening to the audio it can go either way, but the way he quickly and softly drops off when he gets to the first wo makes me feel like it's a backtrack. Or maybe the background music is just too loud haha.
Well, that's all I got for now.
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THANK YOU
Just let people complain its not like their opinions are gonna change anythings what's done is done it's not changing so just let me complain on what they could have done
Me rambling
AS MUCH AS I LOVE each episode on their own
bunce of ships becoming Canon!!!
And the art was gorgeous through out the whole series and the music chefs kiss to both
But seriously I don't get what people's deal is with someone not likeing the ended of a show like if you love it good on you bro that your opinion
For me NOPE it's not bad I can deal with cliffhangers that's not the issue here
(I KNOW NOT EVERYTHING GONNA BE PERFECT)
But seriously though for me personally it's didn't hit.
There's SO MUCH potential wasted and so many characters died but we don't get enough time to fully process their loss bc nope time limit
Me and my friend went on for like an hour on what could have gone differently
(I know they have a limit on money and time)
This obviously needs more episodes to actually fully tell the story
LIKE ISHA KINDA DIED FOR NOTHING what was the point of the beautifully painful scene of her sacrificing herself only for Vander to be revived once again WTF?!?
We don't even see what happened after that because we only learn it by characters say what happened after we don't even know what they did with her body we only know Jinx got REALLY depressed
It felt like we could have had a episode dedicated to vector more focusing on him and Jayce and how he tried to change that fate so many times kinda like homora from madoka magica did
Also what was that homeless guy Vi finds name anyways i don't remember it and we GOT NOTHING ON HIS BACKSTORY I really thought we would get an episode on that since he seemed important
SAME WITH ISHA I DONT KNOW WHY SHE WAS BEING CHASED OR WHAT HAPPEND TO HER FAMILY we don't get anything on that either
She kinda in a way existed just for Jinx to get better just to get hurt again by her lose
I think since multiple storys were happening at once it was struggle to find a way to fully close it correctly so what better way then killing off most the characters
Also
WTF happend to HEIMERDINGER??? Like is he dead? Bc he just poof and dissappear not even fluff was left behind
by the way. people are allowed to complain about this season feeling rushed. i don’t know when it became a thing in this fandom to completely jump people who have valid complaints like YES arcane is a fantastically produced and beautifully animated show and nobody will be able to top it but they did start things with some characters only for it to never go anywhere so it can all be wrapped up in three episodes 😭
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Bucky and queen song
Waving Your Banner
This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!
Song Prompt: We Will Rock You - Queen
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (flirtatious, no pronouns used)
Word Count: ~1300
CW: swearing, some flirting, suggestive jokes, a bit of tickling
minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a flirtatious/suggestive interaction between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.
Note: Thanks, anon! My initial note-to-self from when you first sent this was, verbatim, "okay but dodgeball would be fucken hilarious with we will rock you" - so we've gone with an Avengers training game vibe with this one
The woods hummed with tension, broken by the occasional crack of a branch or the muffled thud of boots. The Avengers had turned what should’ve been a simple training game into an all-out war, and your team was desperate to gain the upper hand. Somewhere ahead, in the shadow of the tree-line, stood the final obstacle: Bucky Barnes, silent, brooding, and lethal, guarding his team’s flag, the White Wolf circling his den.
You crouched beside Sam behind a cluster of bushes, your pulse steady but sharp as you surveyed the terrain. Bucky was right where you expected him, leaning casually against a tree just outside the flag's perimeter. He looked calm, detached even, but you knew better. The slightest flicker of movement would set him in motion, and if he was after you, there’d be no escaping. Flag perimeters were a no-fly-zone, so you and Sam would have to take it on foot.
“Alright,” Sam said, breaking the silence. “We need a plan. And by we, I mean you, because I’m not getting anywhere near the Winter Soldier.”
You shot him an incredulous look. “You’re faster than me.”
“He’s a wall. A brick wall with trust issues and superhuman reflexes.”
You sighed, pressing your back against the thick trunk of a tree. “Then we need a distraction. Something that’ll actually make him move.”
Sam raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What’s your genius plan?”
“You,” you said, giving him a pointed look. “You could bait him. Taunt him. Goad him into leaving his post.”
“And get steamrolled by the murder machine? Hard pass.” He scoffed. "Besides, you’re obviously better bait.”
The heat rushed to your face immediately. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on,” Sam teased, his grin widening. “You’ve got that whole… thing going on.”
“What thing?”
He waved a hand vaguely at you. “You know. The whole ‘badass with a secret soft side’ thing. He’ll eat it up. Hell, I think the whole team’s noticed the way he looks at you.”
You glared at him. “You’re out of your damn mind.”
“He does,” Sam interrupted, revelling in your reaction. “Come on, you could probably get him to do whatever you wanted. Just say something like, ‘Oh, Bucky, is that a vibranium arm or are you just happy to see m-”
You shoved him into the bush.
Sam tried to silence his little grunts as he pulled himself out, yanking the twigs from his armour plates. “Fine. You wanna argue about this all day, or should we win?”
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Just send in Redwing.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
The plan was simple enough: Redwing would create a distraction in a bush behind Bucky, luring him away from the flag, giving you and Sam time to move in and grab it. You moved carefully, keeping low as you crept through the underbrush. The tension in the air was electric, every rustle of leaves amplified by your own awareness of how close Bucky was.
But, true to form, Sam couldn’t resist screwing with you.
As you crept closer to the clearing, Redwing darted toward you and made a ruckus in the bush partially shielding you from view. It was more than enough to give you away, and before you could even curse Sam’s name, you heard it - the unmistakable sound of boots crunching leaves, closing in fast.
Your head whipped around just in time to see Bucky moving toward you with the kind of speed that made your heart stutter. His expression was sharp, predatory, and - gods help you - just a little amused.
“Shit,” you muttered, bolting from your hiding spot.
“Running won’t help you,” Bucky called after you, his voice dark and smooth, laced with amusement.
You didn’t bother responding, too focused on dodging tree trunks and low-hanging branches. But it didn’t matter how fast you ran; he was faster. In seconds, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you clean off your feet.
“Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low in your ear.
“Not yet, you don’t,” you growled, twisting sharply in his grip.
You elbowed him in the side, breaking free for a split second, but he was faster. He blocked your next move, his vibranium hand catching your wrist and spinning you around. You didn’t go down without a fight, aiming a kick at his shin and struggling against his hold, refusing to make it easy for him.
“Feisty,” he muttered, almost admiringly, his grip tightening as you wrestled.
You managed to get one arm free, landing a half-decent shove against his chest. He staggered back slightly but recovered in less than an instant, his smirk returning, sharper than before.
“Alright,” he said, his voice edged with amusement, “you wanna play rough? Let’s play rough.”
Before you could react, he was on you, trapping you between his body and the wide trunk of a tree. His fingers darted to your ribs, pressing against your sides with infuriating precision.
You jolted, a startled laugh bursting out before you could stop it. “What the fu- hey! No, that’s cheating!”
“Cheating?” he echoed, his grin widening as he tickled you again, this time catching your waist. “You’re the one trying to fight dirty.”
You squirmed, trying to slap his hands away, but the tickling was relentless, and your traitorous laughter left you weak, your arms useless.
“No! I- dammit, Barnes!”
Seizing the moment, he stepped back, grabbed both your wrists and yanked you against him, hauling you effortlessly over his shoulder. You kicked your legs in protest, but his grip was unyielding, his hand steady against the backs of your thighs.
“Put me down!” you demanded, pounding your fists against his unfairly muscled back.
“Not until you’re in jail,” he said, his voice low and smooth, the vibration of it sending a shiver through you.
“This is cruel and unusual punishment,” you grumbled, your cheeks burning as you felt his arm tighten around your thighs.
He chuckled, the sound warm and agonising. “Unusual, maybe. But I’d say you’re enjoying it.”
“Barnes!” you snapped, squirming harder.
His laughter deepened, and he carried you with an ease that was both infuriating and maddeningly attractive. When he finally stopped, he set you down just outside the jail, his hands lingering at your waist.
“Let me go,” you said, though the bite in your tone had softened.
He stepped closer, his body a looming presence as his eyes bore into yours. “Say please.”
You scowled, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“Didn’t think so,” he said, his smirk widening as he stepped forward, forcing you to step back - straight into the jail’s boundary.
You glared at him, your chest heaving as he stood just inches away, his gaze dark and intent. “Happy now?”
“Not yet,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp, “but close.”
Before you could fire back, Sam’s triumphant whoop echoed through the trees. You turned just in time to see him flying above your team's base with Bucky's team's flag, waving it over his head like a trophy.
Bucky groaned, his head falling back briefly before he levelled a sharp glare at you. “Distraction,” he muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, the word practically dripping with accusation.
Your lips curved into a coy smile despite yourself.
“You’re too damn good at it,” he said, his tone darker now, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before he turned and stalked off.
Flushed, you called after him. "This isn't over, Barnes!"
He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, turning to face you as he walked backwards towards his next mission. "Not by a long shot."
#thanks anon!#ticklish!reader#marvel fanfiction#marvel tickle fluff#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky fic#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#the winter soldier#winter soldier#bucky drabble#bucky x gender neutral reader
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Poly Taskforce x Baker! Reader
A small part two, I had the idea while working today. It is very apparent that I just started watching Dexter.
Warnings: talks about murder. Gender neutral reader
To say Simon was smitten witn you could be an understatement.
Simon went far along to change his hours, Johnny complained about it for weeks, always mumbling in the ealry morning "why we need to open thus early? No one is gonna wanna have meat at 6 am".
He will always be there whenever you text or call, you want him to double check to make sure the store is locked up? No problem, you're lucky he lives above the shops.
The seasons were changing fast, the forcast called for snow later today. The door slammed open, "Has anyone seen john? I wanted to ask him to get lamb meat for these Shepherd pies I gotta make for the holiday season". Ah there you were in all your glory, you were wrapped up tight in layers of clothing.
"What's wrong with Si's meat- OW! Fuck Si, was kiddin'", Johnny rubbed the back of his head, mumbling before walking to the back freezer.
You looked at the two with an awkward expression, "Nothinh, i just wanted fresher lamb, anyways- Simon do you think you can look at my oven again? I think it's not heating right".
And see you in your cute white apron and pretend your his bonnie? Of course.
Simon hummed, "light probably out again, i can check it later tonight".
You smiled, "thanks Si, probably be lost without you".
The rest of the day was slow, slow to the point Johnny said he is gonna hit the pub early even though it was a bit of a walk. Simon really didn't want to work the front end, he hates talking to people kinda mutish but will carry a conversation if needed. Johnny did the talking for him, been talking and hasn't stop talking since primary school, hell the two were so close that Simon could call Johnny's ma his own. Johnny was always there, even when Simon didn't want to see his ugly mug, Johnny was there.
The front door chimed, Simon groaned, taking off his gloves and walked to the cash register, there was Kyle.
"Needing something Gaz?"
Kyle rolled his eyes at the nickname, they used to play together for their schools Rugby Team, their nicknames sticked together like glue. "Nah I just need your opinion on something".
Simon nodded, "police work?".
Kyle rubbed the back of his neck, "Yall need be safe out there tonight, another body was found in miller's creek- which i wanted to ask you simon- what does this look like to you".
Simon looked at the pictures, he's got to hand to the killer, these cuts are professional, "looks like a clear Butcher cut"
Kyle hummed, "do you mind coming down to the station to give a statement? I think we would like your word-"
Simon crossed his arms, "You're not accusing me right Deputy?"
I mean, it was a good guess. There's only two Butcher shops in town, Simon's store was in the middle of no where and the other was three miles out of town, he's got to hand it to the killer, he does know his way around a blade. And after the incident that happened when he was a kid, wouldn't put it past Kyle for assuming him.
"Oh god, of course not Si! Listen the sheriff wants to figured out quick- doesn't want to alarm the folks here or more rumors".
Oh of course, Simon is aware of how people just talk in this town. A couple of years ago there was rumors of him and Johnny being a couple on the count of they don't go to church, old crazy people.
Just as they were bout to leave, Johns truck comes in speeding.
"Kyle! We need a immediate medic attention".
In the passenger seat was Johnny, very bloodied, beaten beyond recognition.
The bastard went to far.
#cod x reader#simon riley x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#john price x reader#kyle gaz x reader#johnny x simon#ghost x soap#cod imagine#poly task force 141#task force x reader#task force 141 imagine
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Awww yeahhh!! Again, I'm so happy you're reading this little Russell series--thank you again, and Happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it)! 🥰💕
I can't wait to dive into the rest of your thoughts on Part 1...
I love their friendship so much 😂 And kudos to Dory. It takes a lot to agree to this. It could potentially get very awkward 😝
Aww I'm so glad you love her and Dory's friendship! They've become that "ride or die" best girlfriends, and Dory strikes me as someone mature enough to handle her best friend dating her formerly estranged brother. loll It really does take a lot! Which is why the reader is being so cautious about even going on a date with Russell. 😅
God, I know. This is honestly what I think about the most when I watch Tracker. The whole story line is insane and intriguing and... 😅 I have a thousand questions, and there's so much you could do with it in fics. I love it (clearly) 😂🤍
Right?! That's what kept me watching, honestly. I still have so many questions, and even in this series I mostly go off of what we know so far in the show while exploring a couple of my own headcanons. Like you said, you can go in infinite directions with their family past, and even Russell's background!
I do think Russell knows a lot more about their past than he lets on. Also, he was way too chipper for someone who was accused of patricide by his own brother for twenty years. The dynamic between the brothers is just... interesting 👀
Oh yeah, definitely. Their mom is VERY SUSS as well. 🤔🤔
Oh, she's going full Reagan! 😂 I sense some trouble coming from the brother, though...
LOL you're spidey senses are correct. Charlie's a piece of work. 😬
Well, I hope he already picked out his casket... 🙈💀
Omgg but you killed me with that scaredy Dean gif from season 1. 🤣🤣 Like I said, Charlie's a piece of work, an addict, and unfortunately, lashing out at the one person still holding him down. 💙
I'd be a puddle before I even made it to the damn seat 🫠 And they are literally so cute together! I'm full on swooning over here 😍
Ughhhhhh girl SAME. Stick a fork in me with a slab of butter, I'd be DONE.
Ah, yes, the family business. Love that sublte hint 😆 Would be a good name for a brewery, tho 👍
Omgg I'm so glad you caught that!! lmao
Oh yeah, that's catchy. I could so see that on a draft label. 😜🍻
I like that you emphasized the darker parts of his life. Like I said, I don't buy his whole "I'm happy and funny and quirky" act. There's a lot more stirring beneath the charming surface 😅 (Another thing he has in common with Dean lol)
That's definitely not all there is to Russell, so thank you for pointing that out! SO many Deanisms in Russ, but it was pretty clear to me from the get-go (and especially in 2x02) that this guy has an edge, and a lot of experience with the darker shades of the military, despite his bouncy charm lol.
And oh, don't we love a good cry on the first date? Poor thing 😂🤍
Oh God yeah, she was mortified. 😂😂 I thought it would be understandable though, given what just happened with Charlie. 🥲💙
Indeed 😂 I would've loved to be a fly on the wall when Dory had this conversation with her lol How he very eloquently avoided talking about Colter accusing him of murdering their father. I wanna be a fly on the wall for that future convo too 🤣
Ha, ikr! Maybe I'll flash back to that convo in a future ESC story. 🤔
Oh he dodges that real well, doesn't he? 😂 He's going to continue hiding that aspect of things with Colter (I have plans for another sequel story in the future), but he will get into the circumstances around his father's death with her later on...
Loved that she got a punch in before even Russell got there. He might have actually killed that pig lmao
We love a strong heroine, right? 😘 Plus, as the sister of an Air Force/military guy, I felt like Charlie would've taught her how to defend herself. But oh God yeah, Russell might've let his hand "slip." 😬
I'm having vivid flashbacks to Smoke Eater 🥵🔥
Aahahaa I had hoped that moment where he holds her hand would be a nice little Easter egg for people who read Smoke Eater. 😘❤️🔥❤️🔥
Probably one of my favorite scenes is when characters are so hot for each other they lean against a car. There's just something so incredibly passionate about it 🔥🫠
Clearly we have similar taste on this stuff, because girl YES. 😮💨😮💨❤️🔥 Melts me every time I see/read it...
Oh, Russell, this is not what the lady wants to hear. Bless him tho 😂 And I figured she wanted more than a one-night-stand or fling. His job and lifestyle truly is a bit of a problem. But he wanted out anyways, so... 🤞
Bless his heart, he tried to make it sexy loll. And yeeep, not only does she want to tread lightly because he's Dory's brother, but she also isn't typically one for a fling, being an introverted nerdy type lol. Not to say that professors can't get down like that, but this character in particular is more the cautious type. 🤣🤣
I loved their first date! 😍🤍 Hopefully, they'll see each other again soon and might give this another shot. I have a feeling it's gonna involve her brother's bullshit somehow 😅
Aww thank you, friend!! I had so much fun writing their date lol. You already know they're gonna see each other again soon 😏 and your instincts are spot on as usual! Charlie's about to get himself into some trouble that he might just need some help getting out of... 😬😬
As always, reading your lovely, thoughtful and hilarious comments put a huge smile on my face! 😉💓💓
Every Second Counts - Part 1
Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him.
AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.
Word Count: 5.7K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~
💜 Series Masterlist
Part 1: "Permission Granted"
“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips.
You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.
Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.
“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.
After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.
“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.”
Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.
“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”
“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”
Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.
He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…
“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.
“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”
“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.
“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”
You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.
“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.
“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”
Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”
You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was.
“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.
“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.
You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.
“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”
Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.
You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.
“Goodnight,” you called.
“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.
You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.
After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.
Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.
The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.
Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.
His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.
He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.
“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.
You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.
“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”
He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.
“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”
You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.
“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said.
“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache.
Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again.
“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.
“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”
“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”
The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.
“How much?” you asked.
He frowned up at you. “What?”
“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.
“It’s okay, don’t worry—”
“How much,” you pressed.
He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.
“About two grand,” he admitted.
You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.
“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.
Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”
You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.
“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.
Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.
“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.
His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said.
He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.
“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.
“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”
“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.
“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.
“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.
“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”
Your mouth fell open incredulously.
“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”
You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s.
By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.
The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.
You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.
You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.
“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.
“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.
You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.
“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”
You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.
“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.
Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”
He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.
“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.
Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.
After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.
“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.
You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.
Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.
Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.
“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.
Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.
You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.
“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”
“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”
You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”
You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.
“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.
Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.
“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”
Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”
“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”
“After?” he prompted.
You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”
Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.
He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.
You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.
“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”
You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.
You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”
He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.
“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.
It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.
God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.
“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.
Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.
“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.
“What’s his name?” Russell asked.
“Charlie.”
“Older or younger than you?”
“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”
Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?
Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.
“What do you think?” you asked.
“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”
You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.
You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.
“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.
Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?
“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.
“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”
He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”
He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass.
“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.
Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”
His lips briefly raised in a wan smile.
“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.
You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket.
“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”
Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”
You gave a weak smile.
“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words.
His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.
An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.
“Well. Heavy, huh?”
You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.
“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied.
“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.
“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”
“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.
“Come on,” you said.
He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”
“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.
Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.
“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.
And he was true to his word.
Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.
“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.
He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.
“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.
“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.
You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.
“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.
Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.
You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.
He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).
“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”
“Like that matters,” you quipped back.
You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.
And he slapped you right on the ass.
You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.
Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.
Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.
His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.
“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.
"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.
“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”
His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.
Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.
“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.
“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.
“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.
Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.
“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”
If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.
You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”
Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.
You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.
You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.
Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.
And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.
I like this, you thought. And I like him.
However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.
"I'm okay," you tried.
"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."
“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.
“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.
Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.
“Feelin’ better?” he asked.
Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”
You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.
But his hands were gentle for you.
“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.
“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”
“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”
Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”
“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.
He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.
“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.
“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”
Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.
“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”
You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.
“She?” you intoned.
“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.
You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.
“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.
You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.
“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.
Russell decided he’d take that bet.
He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.
But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.
He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.
You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.
You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.
Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.
His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.
His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.
You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.
“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.
You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.
“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.”
You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed.
“How long are you really in town?” you asked.
His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”
“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”
“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear.
Your heart tugged, almost painfully.
“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—”
You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers.
“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.”
After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.
“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said.
Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.
Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.
After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.
You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.
When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.
Charlie still wasn’t home.
Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.
And it worried you even more.
I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right.
— C.
AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂
And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?
Next Time:
Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.
“You should call the police,” she advised.
You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.
You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.
“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:
“Colter, the tracker.”
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2
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