#but don't get me wrong it's more than funny

[hrnngsoup]

Oh maaan. Oh man this is anti-honey vegan levels of ignorant. Look yeah it's gonna be unpopular opinions, and I am NOT saying there are no abusive-towards-dogs cops out there, but no, k9 forces are not generally abusive.

Here's some facts:

K9 units serve much more jobs than just take-downs. Ever had a recently missing kid? A good police force will call on a k9 unit, which you can give them a piece of fabric or toy to sniff, and then that good doggo will track that kid down. Many, MANY children, seniors, and other people who are lost with mental disabilities have been sucessfully found this way.

Another job they do? Drug sniffing. And yes, I know there have been nasty rumours about cops just training a dog to Mark on a person's bag on command, but besides the trash cops that exist, the drug sniffing training is ACTUALLY very specific and fun for the dogs. I've seen a lot of people over at twitter say they are good at fact checking, feel free to fact check what I just said with unbiased sources.

Most K9's are not just murked when they are retired. This was another rumour. A lot of them are retire with their owners, who form deep personal bonds with them, or are adopted out, in the case of the officer not being able to take care of them... like when the officer has died. The only exceptions are when k9's unfortunately develop the common health problems that german shepherds as a breed are privy to, and their quality of life massively decreases.

K9's are not just "stored" at a precinct in crates or something. They go home with their officers most of the time with only a few job-related exceptions.

It's not actually true that every person who gets taken down by a canine are maimed. Most of the time, it's "hold/release", which still needs stitches, but not even near a maim. but I guess these very common events aren't really covered in media much because they are less sensational....

Calling k9 units on anyone who is not actively fleeing a crime and/or armed is not a thing that happens often. That's a huge waste of money, time, and what, do you think they start off arrests with a k9 unit? No! (Exceptions: when someone has felonies on their record, has been known to be aggressive in past arrests/chases, or have commited grand theft auto)

While this one is only anecdotal, I have never with my own two eyes seen a unit abuse their dog. I have seen many of them baby talk the shit out of their doggos or give them probably too many treats, and well, if you want to see that, I recommend police cam vids. One of my relatives which was a k9 unit absolutely adored her k9, Duke, and she had him for many years after they retired- and Duke was happy and healthy until he passed naturally. A lot of people don't realize that if a k9 unit abused or hurt their dogs, and the other cops saw.... they would be considered the shit under their shoe for the whole precinct.

Now let's talk about why they're necessary in a healthy police force

Ever hear of the terms meth heads, crackheads, etc? These groups of people, if they decide to do crime, are INCREDIBLY dangerous. Drugs of a certain hardcore variety LITERALLY change your brain composition. These are the kind of people that can, and will, run out naked with two steak knives and try to stab anyone around them "because they looked at me funny"... if they are even capable of reason and clear speech in a drug-induced rage. Many do not even feel pain at this stage. There are two ways to stop someone in this state. Gunfire. Or a k9 unit. The good thing about using a k9 is that they are fast, much faster than humans- and that helps reduce the amount of injuries and deaths that occur when something goes wrong.

Humans are instinctually wired to be afraid of dogs. A lot of violence from... really, anyone, is severely diminished when even the threat of a k9 unit being called happens, and when you're facing someone who's weilding a machete, that fricking means something.

Look. I can understand being incensed at anyone who does treat their dogs badly. I am too. But you have to inform yourself on what the facts are, and everything I have said is factual unless someone can prove me wrong which, okay, then i will retract what someone proved me wrong about.

Banning a very important, very life-saving part of a healthy police force is a BAD idea. Note i said healthy police force... there are a lot of UNHEALTHY, CORRUPT police forces that needs from the bottom up reform.

All banning k9 units will do is increase crime and the collateral damage from it, make us lose non-take down services they provide which is VERY important to missing persons cases... and probably increase the amount of german shepherds put down in shelters, ultimately doing much more harm than good.

All k9 dogs are abused hands down if you post any pro k9 stuff on my dash you’re unfollowed I don’t care if we’ve been mutuals for years, you can claim to be anti-cop or a leftist or whatever but if you post k9 dogs with like “a good doggo! A good boy!” fuck off, if I lose followers over this then good riddance

[miange1]

HYUN-JU

male reader, reader is a college student, talks of dysphoria, hyun-ju's past, reader doesn't know hyun ju's trans, pining/being smitten, death, crying, scuicidal thoughts, im in love with this woman.

note: i am not trans, im a cis dude. if i ever get something wrong or offensive and you're trans just let me know and i'll fix it. Also I saw something where someone said gyeong-seok probably just thought hyun ju was a cis woman who had a really deep voice and i thought it was funny.

You had been lucky to pass the first game. You were scared out of your mind, and the small group you made from the first few games had died. It was terrible, you had no one. It's surprising how despite everyone being in the same situation— you found no more comfort.

But there was this girl you had seen. She had shoulder length hair, and earrings that truly just suit her. She was really pretty, you wanted to talk to her yet she was always with her own group.

Yet this time, she wasn't. She was just by herself for a moment, was she thinking to herself? Maybe you should talk to her? No, that's a bad idea. Okay, but what else was there to do? You might die without talking to the woman of your dreams.

Mustering up the little courage you had, you went over to her. Hands sweaty the closer you got to her. You wiped it on your slightly blood stained uniform, feeling even more icky realizing you were bloody.

Getting closer to her, you sat on a mattress. Shit, what now? You cleared your throat, "H..hi." you felt like you were back in highschool. Mouth dry as if you were talking to your fist crush. She looked over to you, a small smile on her curious face. "Hi."

She spoke to you, holy crap she spoke to you.

"How uh— how are you?" You stuttered.

But before she could answer you shook your head, blurting for her not to answer that stupid question. Jesus your face was burning up, felt like you had a fever.

"I'm sorry," You were able to get that out. "This is dumb, I just thought you were really pretty and.." She hadn't broken eye contact with you, but you could barely look at her. "In a situation like this it's pretty weird to say something like that to someone isn't it?"

"You think I'm pretty?"

You shut your mouth, looking at her oddly. "Yeah..of course i do. Do you not think so?" She scoffed, thinking you were joking. She had just gotten called beautiful by young-mi, and she believed it she truly did. But hearing it from someone she barely knew? Made her feel like crying again.

"I have been called a lot of things, yet not pretty. I only expected to be called pretty after my transition." That was where you made another face more confused than before. "Transition?" Your voice spoke with genuine confusion.

She raised her eyebrow at you, then rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that. I know you can tell." You really couldn't. There was nothing you had against transgender people at all, but it doesn't change the fact you couldn't tell.

"I really wasn't aware, was that offensive to you?" She stared at you for a moment, bursting out laughing after a while and earning some stares. "My voice? Even hearing me, you weren't aware?" You shook your head and shrugged.

"I just thought you had a naturally deep voice." Oh you were making her feel so much better, even if you didn't know it. She couldn't stop laughing, grabbing onto your shoulder as a touch of affection. It made you smile and laugh with her, your own hand touching hers to reciprocate.

The two of you had deeper talks over time until the next game. She told you what you guessed she told the others, about her plan on what to do with the money, how she had others distance themselves from her when she told them she felt like a woman. It made you feel bad, but you were happy she was telling you this because it felt like you had known each other for so long.

You wished it lasted longer

—

"Six." The moment it was spoke, you had been pulled by hyun ju. It was a habit she was making, always grabbing you the moment the she heard the number. But this time, she made a mistake. She realized last minute young-mi was too behind.

She panicked, no one else seemed to have room and it was a moment of time before she absolutely had to close the door.

Hyun ju's grip stayed on you, it seemed to get tighter the more stressed she got. Young mi was just a kid, she deserved to live on.

"10, 9, 8,"

You only had so much time to decide. You yanked yourself from hyun ju's grip, and she instantly gave you a look as if you were stupid. "What are you doing?" She wanted to save you both, but you knew that wasn't possible.

You didn't speak, only letting your lips touch hers quickly, yet you stayed as long as you could. Even in death you would always remember her lips, they trembled against yours, confused, yet wanting and needing more. You let yourself run out, pushing the girl inside. "1."

It was done, and there was nothing that could be done. You heard the yell of her voice, panicking and shaking the door trying to get it to open. "No, no, unlock the door! God damn it!"

"I love you." She stopped, looking at you in your eyes. You were scared too, crying even. You didn't want to die, and she knew it. She was so deeply in love with someone she only knew for a few hours, but it felt like years. She needed you, she wanted you to live. Get to know you better when this was all over, maybe even go further if it could!

She couldn't even say it back while you were conscious. The life left your eyes, and your body fell. "No.." she was in disbelief. No, you weren't dead.

"Please, please, I love you too.." She couldn't be upset at anyone, she couldn't even stand on her own two feet.

"Unnie." Arms wrapped around her, "Come on..you have to get up..the next round." She didn't want to play anymore, she didn't feel like she could. If only it was her, she could have at least had hope for you and young-mi.

Damn it

[earthchica]

Make It Right

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: Terry makes it right and apologizes to you for his words and his behavior; soon, you and Terry talk through your issues, getting a better understanding of each other and rebuilding your communication.

warnings: angst, slight communication issues, serious conversation, explicit smut (18+), light daddy kink, oral (f), rough pent-up sex, making out, flirting, fluff, domestic life, romantic dinner, family vacation, nicknames [ baby, sweetheart, mama, baby girl & more ] words: 5k

note: please enjoy, but there may be some errors.

sequel to { funny how time flies } mini-series masterlist previous chapter { everything I ever wanted }

You heard the soft creak of the bedroom door as it opened and then shut, the sound echoing in the quiet bedroom. Suddenly, a familiar warmth enveloped you as Terry wrapped his arms around you, trying to pull you into an embrace.

You could feel the weight of his body pressing against yours, but frustration bubbled up inside you. “Get off of me, Terry!” you exclaimed, your voice sharp and annoyant as you firmly shoved him away.

You shifted towards the head of the bed, separating you from the man you hurt your feelings. Terry stood there, a blend of guilt and despair washing over his features.

“I’m sorry, baby. I-I,” Terry stammered, his words tumbling out in a rush as his eyes roamed your face, searching for a glimmer of understanding.

The remorse in his gaze was sincerity, which struck a deep chord within you. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” He sat on the bed and moved closer, extending a hand as if trying to bridge the emotional depth that had formed between you.

“I’m so grateful to have you; you’re such an incredible wife and an amazing mother to our son.” His voice cracked slightly, laden with the weight of his apology, as he pleaded for you to see the truth in his words.

"No, why would you say you're tired of me? How could you say something like that to me of all people?" you yelled, your voice rising as a flood of emotions engulfed you.

A mix of anger and hurt made your heart race. "Baby, I didn't mean—" Terry started to respond, his voice still remorseful, but you couldn't let him finish.

You cut him off, allowing your pent-up emotions to spill like water gushing from a broken dam.

"Do you even grasp how I've been feeling these past few months?" your voice trembled, each word charged with frustration and hurt. "It feels like I'm carrying the whole load on my shoulders, all alone."

"If you’ve been feeling this, why didn't you communicate that to me? You know I'm not a damn mind reader!” Terry shot back, his tone rising and more urgent.

"So it's my fault again?” you retorted, your frustration boiling. “Why don't you take some accountability for once, Terry? You used to know how to support me or recognize when I was struggling without me having to spell it out for you."

Your words hung in the air, charged with the weight of unspoken expectations and the longing for understanding that felt increasingly out of reach.

Terry took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he faced you directly, the moment's weight heavy between you. “Look, I know I messed up badly,” he began, his voice low and sincere.

“I hurt you, and that’s not right. I should have never said I was tired of you. That was just disrespectful. You deserve so much better than that.”

Terry paused, searching for the right words, his eyes filled with regret. “I see how hard you work every day taking care of our son. You do everything for our family; I have taken that for granted. I haven’t been there like I should have been, allowing my frustrations to cloud my judgment.”

Terry stepped closer, his hands outstretched, palms up. “I got no excuses. What I said was wrong, and I’m ashamed of it. You’ve been carryin’ so much, I’m sorry, for real. I wanna make it right, whatever it takes. I'll support you better, listen more, and be the husband I know I can be.”

As he spoke, you could see the love and remorse etched on his face—deep lines of worry creased his brow. But it was hard for you to process his words fully at that moment.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the anger decrease slightly. "I hear you, Terry,” you said softly, almost dismissively. “But right now, I just need some space…I think you should sleep on the couch.”

You get off the bed to grab your shower cap, go to the bathroom, and close the door. You hear Terry leave the bedroom, the silence filling the space again.

After your shower, you take your time with your night routine, meticulously applying your skincare products as if the physical act could somehow cleanse the emotional turmoil still swirling inside you.

Each motion rhythm felt almost meditative, yet the weight of the conversation earlier loomed heavily in your mind. You are dressed in a comfortable tank top and pajama shorts, feeling the fabric against your skin, a small comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

Finally, you climbed into bed, the sheets cool against your skin, but the emptiness beside you felt overwhelming. The thought of Terry not being close to you despite the hurt made the room quiet.

You wrapped the thick blanket tightly around you, trying to find solace in the familiar fabric, yet you couldn't shake off the need for his presence.

Deep down, you craved the warmth of his body next to yours, the security you felt when he embraced him, even if your heart still stung from his words.

With a shaky sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and decided to seek him out. You padded down the hallway, glancing at the clock—it was already late, and you wondered how long you’d been lost in thought.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, the sight of him slumped over on the small loveseat in the living room tugged at your heart. His long frame seemed crammed into the little seat, the edges of the cushions barely accommodating his size.

“Terry…” you called softly, barely rising above a whisper. He lifted his head at the sound of your voice, eyes widening with surprise and a hint of hope.

“Yeah,” he replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his voice thick with fatigue. “Um...” you started, crossing your arms over your chest, unsure how to proceed.

The remnants of the hurt and irritation still lingered, yet the sight of his uncomfortable state and weary expression stirred something inside you.

“Come to bed,” you said softly with no expression, and his expression shifted to relief. “Are you sure?” Terry asked, a mixture of cautious optimism laced in his tone.

“Yeah, just��come on,” you replied, trying to sound more convinced than you felt. Terry was always so imposing as he stood up but looked helpless and small.

Without another word, he followed you back upstairs, and the silence between you felt thick. As you entered the bedroom, you climbed back into the bed, the sheets still warm where you had been.

Terry lingered by the door momentarily, hesitation clear on his face. “Are you still upset?” he asked, his voice soft yet heavy with concern. “I am,” you replied, not wanting to lie or sugarcoat the situation.

“But I don’t want to sleep alone. Maybe we can talk more tomorrow when we’re both in a better headspace.” You said softly. Terry nodded, understanding and regret evident in his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, he climbed into bed beside you, leaving a respectful and cautious distance between you. The silence hung between you until it was almost suffocating, but neither knew how to break it.

Instead, you both lay there, staring at the ceiling and pretending to be asleep. Eventually, sleep found its way to you both. The night felt long, but eventually, morning came with the promise of a new day.

As the sun peaked through the curtains, you stirred awake first, feeling the warmth of Terry's body against you, and you glanced over at him; your heart softened just a bit as you watched him breathe softly.

After last night's argument, some of you wanted to stay angry and distant from Terry, but another part just wanted things back to normal. You knew in your heart that you two would work this out somehow.

You turn over, gently reach over, and place your hand on his cheek before returning to sleep. Terry stirred slightly and cracked open an eye if you felt your touch even in his sleep.

Terry softly smiled at your sleepy state, knowing he had to make things right. He reached for his phone, the soft glow illuminating the dim room.

Sitting up, he took a deep breath, preparing himself for a tough day ahead—not at work, but at home. He scrolled through his contacts, dialing in to call your uncle.

“Hey, Uncle Eddie,” he said after a few rings. “I won’t be coming in today…yeah, personal reasons. I need to be home…Okay, thank you.” As he hung up, he glanced over at you, still half-asleep.

Terry slid out of bed quietly, careful not to wake you. Padding softly to the baby’s room, he gently lifted Elijah from the crib. Cradling him in his arms, he marveled momentarily at how small and innocent his son looked.

“Good morning, little man,” Terry whispered, bouncing Elijah slightly as he went downstairs to the kitchen. He set the little one in the high chair, securing him safely with the straps.

The baby’s sleepy gaze slowly transformed into a wide-eyed curiosity as he watched his daddy move about the kitchen. With Elijah happily sitting in his chair, Terry began preparing breakfast.

Terry rummaged through the fridge, pulling out eggs, milk, and fresh fruit. As he cracked the eggs into the skillet, their sizzling brought a sense of calm.

Cooking had always been a form of therapy for him. “Let’s get you some breakfast, too, huh?” he chimed to Elijah as he quickly poured him a bottle.

Terry could hear Elijah's soft noises of delight, making focusing easier. Deep down, he hoped that doing this would show you his sincerity.

After feeding Elijah, Terry made a generous portion of the breakfast for you and himself and set the table. As you wake up to an empty bed, you glance at the time and feel slightly panicked.

However, you hear Terry's voice through the baby monitor, talking to Elijah in the kitchen about you, hoping this would be the start of you forgiving him for your argument last night.

As you got out of bed, rubbed the sleep from your eyes, went to brush your teeth, and washed your face before strolling downstairs towards the kitchen.

The aroma of breakfast wafting through the air, making your stomach rumble. Terry turned as he caught sight of you, a sheepish smile lighting up his face.

“Morning,” he said warmly, his voice brightening the atmosphere. “I hope you’re hungry. I made your favorite,” he added; you tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “My favorite?”

“Yeah,” he replied, setting a plate on the table before you. “Eggs, pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit. I know you usually love a little bit of everything.”

As you sat, Elijah babbled enthusiastically in his high chair, excited to see both of you. You couldn’t help but smile at your son and kiss his forehead. "Good morning, baby boy"

You started to eat, the first few bites eliciting a sense of normalcy you desperately craved. “Thanks for making breakfast, Terry,” you said softly, focusing on Elijah. “It smells amazing.”

“I wanted to do something nice for you,” Terry admitted, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I know.....last night. I hate that we left things unresolved.”

You looked up from your plate, gauging Terry’s expression. His eyes were sincere, mixed with an undercurrent of regret. “Yeah, I appreciate that you’re trying this morning.”

Terry nodded slightly, the weight of his guilt apparent in each motion. “I just want you to know again I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I was just frustrated, and I didn’t handle it well.”

You paused before responding. “I get that, Terry, but when you said that to me...my heart broke, and I thought we were locked on this, I thought-.”

“I know,” he replied, his tone dropping to a more serious level. “It’s just so hard sometimes, balancing everything— Elijah, work, our marriage. I let the stress get the best of me and took it out on you.”

"Well, I think we really need to work on our communication because ever since Elijah was born, I feel like we've lost sight of that strength we've built," you said, your voice filled with realization.

Terry acknowledged the tension in his shoulders, easing just a bit. “You're right. I've noticed it, too. I miss how we used to talk, how we could share anything without worry.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of those words resonating deeply. “Yeah, me too. Remember those late-night talks we used to have? We'd stay up for hours just dreaming about our future, making plans together. Now it feels like we're just trying to survive the day.”

“Yeah,” he said, his expression softening. “I want to go back to that. “We have to find a way to carve out time for us, even if it's just small moments here and there.”

“What do you think that looks like?” you asked, genuinely curious. “How can we make it happen?” you added. Terry took a moment, clearly contemplating.

“Maybe we could set aside a few minutes each night after Elijah goes to bed. We could just talk about our day or even watch something together. Something light and fun.”

“That sounds nice,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face. “I would love that. But I also think we need to be able to have those conversations when things get tough. It can't all be about being positive; we must address the heavy stuff, too.”

Terry thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You're right. I think it's so easy to avoid conflict, thinking it will just resolve itself. But it won't, will it? We have to face it head-on before resentment builds up.”

“I can be guilty of that too,” you admitted, feeling the weight of the past few months crash over you. “I've been just bottling things up instead of expressing my feelings. It’s easier to keep the peace, even if it eats away at me.”

“I get that,” he said softly, his gaze steady on you. “But I promise to do better. I want to hear what you say, baby, no matter how difficult. I care about your feelings and will be a better husband; I want to be a better husband.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “Thank you, Terry. That means a lot, and you are a good husband and a father. We're in a tough patch, and I'm sure we'll get through. I want you to feel the same way. We need to make this a mutual effort. If I ever say something that bothers you, please don't hesitate to let me know.”

Terry reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. “You have my word. And I hope you know I'm committed to strengthening our marriage. There's nothing more important to me than you and Elijah; “I love you, baby.”

"I love you too, Terry." With those words lingering in the air, you both shared a transformative moment of understanding. It wasn't an immediate solution to all your problems, but it was a solid step.

-

The past few weeks have been a turning point for both of you. Communicating openly like you used to, sharing your thoughts and feelings without the weight of tension lingering in the air, had lightened the load on your heart.

As you and Terry cuddled on the couch, the warmth of his body against yours felt comforting. The lamp's soft glow lit the room just enough to create an intimate atmosphere.

You watched Elijah through the baby monitor, sleeping peacefully in his crib. “Wow, you came through, huh?” you said playfully, playing with his ears.

“I feel like I barely had to lift a finger with the housework and Elijah. You got my back like that?” You said with a smile. Terry chuckled, leaning closer to you.

“Well, if I keep you happy, it’s a win-win situation, right?” He pretended to flex his muscles, and you both laughed at the moment's silliness.

“You’re so crazy,” you teased, smirking at him. “But real talk, I appreciate it. I feel like I can finally breathe again. It’s been a minute since we had this together.”

“Right? I missed this, alot, I mean a lot a lot ” Terry expressed, his face turning soft. He brushed his thumb along your cheek, making your heart flutter.

“You know I love you, sweetheart, I wanna see you shine and be happy,” Terry said, and you smiled, feeling a little bashful under his gaze.

“Aww, Terry, I love you too so much. I know I can get caught up in my head often, but having you step up like this? It just makes me feel so much better.”

Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips. “You keep saying how I stepped up, but it’s us together making it work. You’re the heart of this whole household, baby.”

Terry paused momentarily, still gazing into your eyes, and you could feel the heat rising between you. “We’ve been keeping things going in the house lately, being a team.”

“True, that's how it's supposed to be. And it feels good to be back in sync,” you responded, feeling at ease. “It’s nice to know you’re all in, and I’m all in too.”

With that, Terry leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a slow kiss. It was sweet at first, but gradually, it deepened, both of you melting into the moment as your bodies relaxed against each other.

A playful glint sparkled in his eye when he gently pulled away, hinting at a fun idea. “You know,” he said, his voice brimming with excitement.

"We should plan a little family getaway. Somewhere we can kick back and truly relax.” He said deeply low. “A vacation?” you replied, raising an eyebrow in intrigue.

“Really?” you asked, and Terry leaned closer, the enthusiasm contagious as he continued. “Yeah! How about we spend a weekend at that villa we used to visit in Cancun?"

"And we could invite your parents to join us. It would be an excellent opportunity to unplug from all the chaos and have fun.” His eyes lit up with the thought, a sparkle mirroring his excitement.

You couldn't help but bite your lip, imagining the warm sands and gentle ocean breezes. “That sounds amazing! I adore that place. It holds so many wonderful memories for us."

"—it’s where it all began. Plus, this would be Elijah's very first vacation! What a special way to introduce him to such a beautiful location.” You gasped.

Terry chuckled softly, “So, you wanna do it?” You nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across your face. “Let’s do it! I can already envision the memories we can make.”

Cancun, Mexico

The sun hung high in the cerulean sky, casting a warm golden glow over the peaceful Cancun shoreline as the day unfolded—a perfect Sunday morning.

The gentle sound of waves lapping against the soft, powdery sand created a soothing rhythm while a refreshing breeze played against your dark-brown skin, carrying the faint scent of salt and beach flowers.

Elijah giggled uncontrollably as he splashed playfully in the sandy oasis around him. Tiny grains of sand stuck to his little fingers and toes, glistening like miniature jewels in the sunlight.

You and your mom were fully immersed in the moment, working together to construct an elaborate sandcastle. Its towers rose proudly, decorated with seashells and bits of seaweed, as you all hoped it could withstand the approaching tide.

“Look at you, Eli! You love the sand, huh?!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling with affection. The moment's joy was captured forever as you snapped a picture of his bright smile, his hazel eyes sparkling with delight.

Elijah's laughter echoed around you, filling the air with pure joy as you and your mom continued to shape the sandcastle. Your dad strolled, still wet from his time on the jet skis, with a broad grin.

“Y’all got some serious skills over here!” he called out, surveying the castle. "That’s lookin’ like a real palace for my grandbaby!" Your mom chuckled, smoothing out a rough edge of the sandcastle.

“A palace fit for a prince! Ain’t he just the cutest?” She looked down at Elijah, who was now trying to pick up a handful of sand and giggling when it slipped through his tiny fingers.

“Right?” you replied, grinning. Your dad squatted beside Elijah, chuckling as the baby reached out toward him, his little hands covered in sand.

“Hey, Eli? Are you makin’ masterpieces over here? You tryna start a sand empire?” He asked. Elijah let out a squeal of delight, and your dad couldn’t help but laugh.

“Aww, look at that smile! He’s sayin’ ‘I got this, grandpa!’” Just then, Terry wandered back from the jet skis, a towel draped around his neck.

“What's going on? Y’all makin’ a sandcastle? I wanna see!” Terry said, leaning down, peering curiously at Elijah. “And there’s my number one fan!”

“Look at him, Terry!” you exclaimed, scooping Elijah into your arms as his face lit up at the sight of his daddy. “He’s ready to take on the beach. He’s got sand in places I didn’t even think was possible!”

Terry laughed, reaching out to tickle Elijah’s belly, causing him to burst out in another fit of giggles. “Man, how did we get so lucky? He’s a whole treasure out here!”

“Right, such a blessing!” your mom chimed in. You looked at the happy scene around you—your parents, your husband, and your precious son—and felt your warm heart swell.

“This is what it’s all about, y’all. Family!” You said softly, and Terry smiled at you sweetly. “That's right!” your dad agreed, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“We gotta make the most of these days, y’know? Family, fun, and all this love. Ain’t nothin’ better!” With everyone laughing and loving on Elijah, the sun shone brightly overhead, casting a golden glow over your little beach paradise.

Later.

The afternoon unfolded beautifully as your family gathered around the spacious dining table at the villa, sharing a delightful lunch filled with laughter and stories.

The warm sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow on the cozy living room where everyone eventually settled in. Plush cushions beckoned from the oversized sofas, and the aroma of delicious food lingered in the air.

Your parents, visibly relaxed and content, cherished their time with Elijah, engaging in lighthearted conversations that filled the room with joy and warmth.

Terry leaned over to you, a playful grin on his face. “How about a little adventure?” he whispered, eyeing your parents, who were busily playing their grandson.

“What do you have in mind, handsome man?” you asked, intrigued. Terry glanced toward your mom and dad. "Well, I would you love to take you out for dinner? Just the two of us?”

Your heart raced with excitement. “Really? What about Elijah?”

“Don’t worry,” he replied, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’ll ask your parents to watch him, so we can have some time for ourselves.” You couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of a romantic evening.

With every detail, he sparked a thrill in your heart that had been dormant for too long. “Okay, you’ve got a deal!” You said with a smile, you rushed upstairs to freshen up.

You pulled out a multicolored sundress adorned with shapes and designs. You applied some light makeup, focusing on a touch of lip gloss that shimmered in the fading sunlight.

Staring at your reflection, you felt nostalgia and excitement, feeling beautiful and ready for the evening ahead. When you returned to where your parents and Elijah were gathered, your dad raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile.

“Wow, look at you, miss thang! Someone’s got a hot date!” He teased, and you laughed. “Just a little dinner with Terry. He has a surprise planned for us.”

"Sounds wonderful! And you two deserve it, sweet pea." Your dad said with a light smile on his face, and your mom clapped her hands together.

“Yeah. We’ll take good care of Elijah. You both go enjoy your night!” Your mom said with a smile, and you nodded, giving Elijah a kiss on the forehead before leaving.

You met Terry at the beach's edge, his eyes lighting up as he took in your dress. “You look stunning, baby,” Terry said, taking your hand as you walked together towards the car.

The drive was filled with easy conversation and laughter. As you neared your destination, you noticed a seaside restaurant nestled under twinkling lights, music wafting from within.

“Is this our spot?” you asked, excitement bubbling. “Yup! I figured we could have a nice dinner followed by some dancing,” he said with a wink, holding the door open for you as you stepped out.

Inside, the ambiance was warm and inviting, with flickering candles on the tables and soft music playing in the background. After being seated, you both ordered and sipped on lemonade while discussing anything.

Terry leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “So, you got any plans for when we take over the dance floor, huh?” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You chuckled softly, tilting your head. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Mr. Smooth! I’m ready to turn this place out.” You twirled strands of hair around your finger, feeling the chemistry between you.

Terry raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Oh really now? Do you think you can keep up with me? I might spin you so fast you'll forget where you are!”

You laughed, biting your lip playfully as you met his gaze. “Honey, I was born ready! Just wait till I hit you with these hips. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Is that a challenge, baby girl?” Terry asked, feigning shock as he leaned closer. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a warm hug.

“Because if it is… well, I’m here for it.” His voice dipped low, drawing you in. The waiter arrived with your appetizers, but neither of you paid much attention.

Your eyes were locked in a playful duel. “You know I never back down from a challenge,” you replied boldly, lifting your glass in a mock salute before sipping the lemonade.

He watched every move you made with a smile that made your heart flutter. “And that’s exactly why I love ya,” he said softly, his tone turning more sincere.

It felt like old times, just the two of you in each other's company, the laughter ringing like music. After dinner, the music softened, and the atmosphere turned more romantic.

Terry stood, extending his hand to you. “Shall we?” With a smile, you took his hand as he led you to the dance floor, where the soft light danced around you like fireflies on a warm summer night.

As you swayed together, you felt the rhythm of the music seep into your bones. Terry pulled you closer, his hands resting gently on your lower back, confidently guiding you.

The world around you faded, and it was just him and you, lost in this moment. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings that made your heart swell.

“Look at you, movin’ like you own this floor,” Terry murmured, admiration dripping from his voice. “Ain’t nobody can do it like you can, sweetheart.”

You felt a rush of heat at his words, a giddy thrill igniting your chest. “Terry,” you replied, biting back a smile as you twirled under his arm, relishing how he effortlessly caught you again.

“You know how to make a girl feel special.” You said, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart sync with yours.

Terry chuckled lowly, tilting your chin up to meet your eyes. “Nah, baby girl, it’s all about you. Every move, every glance— I can’t help but be mesmerized,” he said earnestly.

“You’re my whole world.” His gaze held yours captive; it was intimate and raw, each word wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace.

“You know what you are doing!” You laughed lightly as your cheeks warmed under his adoration. “Maybe...but I'm just speaking the truth,” he whispers, kissing your lips.

The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush that sent shivers down your spine. Time seemed to slow as you melted into him, the world around you fading.

You could taste the sweetness of the lemonade mingled with the warmth of his breath, an intoxicating blend that left you craving more.

As the music swelled, so did your passion. Terry deepened the kiss, his hands roaming from your waist to your ass, pulling you closer as if he wanted to erase any space between you.

“Baby,” Terry breathed against your lips, a teasing lilt in his voice. “You gotta know what kinda hold you got on me.”

You laughed softly, feeling emboldened by his affection. “Oh really? Is that right?” You leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his cheek, an invitation that promised more.

“Yeah...hey, I have something else special,” he replied with a playful smirk. His eyes sparkled as he twirled you again, then pulled you back into him, letting the music guide your movements.

“After this amazing dinner, what could you have else planned, Terry?" You asked as your bodies moved harmoniously, hips swaying together like they were made for this dance.

This moment where nothing else mattered. "You'll have to see, come on," he whispered, took your hand, leading you back to the table to settle the bill.

“You ready for this?” he asked, glancing at you with that glint in his eye that always made your heart skip. “Ready as I’ll ever be! Let’s go!” you answered, excitement bubbling over.

You stepped out into the cool night air, hand in hand. You two were in the car again and eventually made where you two were going. “Terry, where we goin’?” you asked, curiosity bubbling up like champagne, your heart racing as he pulled you along.

“Just trust me, baby,” he said over his shoulder, his smile mischievous and inviting. “I promise it’s somethin’ real special.”

You squeezed his hand, excitement surging through you as he navigated through the small villa. Every step was a tease; every turn held the potential for surprise.

Finally, he stopped in front of an ornate wooden door. He turned to you, letting go of your hand just long enough to pull out a small key from his pocket.

“Now, don't be peekin',” Terry said with a grin as he unlocked it. Your anticipation heightened as the door creaked open, revealing a cozy space bathed in warm golden light.

“Oh wow…” you breathed as you stepped inside, your heart leaping at the sight before you—a smaller villa impeccably decorated with rich crimson roses scattered across the bed and soft candlelight illuminating every corner.

“Surprise!” Terry announced proudly, closing the door behind you both. “I figured we needed a little time on this vacation just for us.” You spun around to face him, unable to contain your joy.

“Terry! This is, this is so beautiful and sweet! You really thought of everything!” You said softly, looking at him happily.

“Aww, you know I had to treat you right, baby. “Ain't nothin' but the best for my queen,” he said, his voice smooth like honey as he stepped closer, closing the space between you two.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, sending shivers down your spine. “Terry, I love you,” you replied with a grin, your heart fluttering like a butterfly in spring.

Terry's eyes danced with mischief as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your ear. “Oh, baby, I love you too," Terry said, reaching for your waist.

Terry pulled you against him as his lips met yours with an urgent hunger. The kiss ignited a fire within you, deepening as he playfully nibbled on your bottom lip.

“Taste so sweet,” Terry murmured against your mouth before pulling away just enough to gaze intently into your eyes. His hands slid down to cup your ass, lifting you up slightly to the bed.

“I've been wanting you all night” Terry growled, his breath hot against your skin as he sat you on the bed. The soft sheets beckoned you both as he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Look at you” Terry teased, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he traced a finger along your jawline. “Got all dressed up and ready for me; now it's time to rip that shit off.”

With that, he started peeling off your dress, bra, and panties like they were the layers of an onion, revealing every inch of your skin to him." fuck baby,” he said appreciatively, feasting his eyes on your body.

“You're so damn stunning.” His voice dropped low, sending shivers through you. “I could get lost in you.” He added. “Oh, Terry…” you breathed out, feeling the heat between you two intensify.

Terry leaned closer, his hands exploring every curve and dip of your body before trailing down to your thighs. “You smell good, too,” he murmured as he kissed down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

“I bet you taste even better.” You could feel the electricity crackling as he moved lower, his lips brushing against your stomach. “Gonna make you scream my name tonight,” he promised with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Baby, don’t tease me like that,” you replied breathlessly, biting your lip in anticipation. His presence was intoxicating, and every moment felt like it was building to something spectacular.

“I ain’t teasin’; I’m just gettin' started,” Terry responded, his voice dripping with a sultry confidence that sent heat racing through your veins.

Terry grinned, eyes glinting as he knelt between your legs, his breath warm against your skin. “Now open up for me, mama,” he commanded softly, the authority in his tone making your heart race even faster.

“I wanna taste that sweet, wet pussy of yours the way you know I can.” He said sensual and you shivered at the intensity of his gaze, feeling wholly exposed yet utterly safe in his presence.

“Terry,” you gasped, your body arching instinctively toward him. Terry smirked as he spread your thighs wider, the anticipation hanging thick in the air.

With no warning, he dove in hungrily, lips wrapping around your most sensitive spot and sucking gently while his tongue flicked teasingly over you.

The sensation hit you like a tidal wave, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through every nerve ending. "Oh, shit! Terry," you moaned, gripping the sheets as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

“You taste so damn incredible,” Terry growled against you, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through your core. “Like candy…I could spend all night down here.”

His tongue danced expertly, swirling and teasing as he took his time savoring every inch of you. “Don’t stop… Please don’t stop,” you begged, your voice breathy and filled with desperation.

You could feel it building inside you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatened to burst. “I’m close, baby! Just like that!” You cried out, the words tumbling from your lips as his mouth worked its magic.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Terry growled, deepening his rhythm as he added a finger, sliding it inside you just right. “C’mon, let me feel you.” He watched with satisfaction as your body responded to him, arching and writhing beneath his touch.

“Tell me how good it feels, sweetheart,” Terry demanded, his voice thick with desire. You could barely form words; each syllable was swallowed by the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“It feels… so fucking good, Terry!” you gasped out, your hand finding the back of his head, pulling him closer as if that could draw him deeper into you. “Don’t stop… I need to cum.”

“Then do it for me,” Terry urged, his tongue flicking faster against your sensitive bud while pumping his fingers in and out of you with expert precision. “Let me taste all that sweetness.”

And just like that, the coil inside you snapped. You cried out his name like a prayer, waves of ecstasy washing over you as your body quaked in pleasure.

“Oh ahhh fuck, Terry!” Your voice echoed in the room as you caved to the bliss. He lapped at every sweetness that flowed from you, savoring your release as if it were the finest delicacy.

“Damn, baby! You’re so beautiful when you cum,” Terry said, kissing along your inner thighs. You were panted, barely able to catch your breath.

“That was…” You couldn't get the words out; they were still coming down from your high. “I know, baby girl,” he said, winking at you as he got off the bed to take his clothes off.

Terry climbed back on top of the bed, his muscular arms flexing as he positioned himself between your legs. His eyes locked with yours as he pressed the tip of his big, throbbing dick against your wet pussy.

“Tell me what you want, sexy,” he purred in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Do you want Daddy to make love to his good girl or fuck her senseless?”

You looked into his eyes, the fire igniting a corresponding flame within you. “Fuck me, Daddy,” you growled, the words leaving a wake of desire in their path. “Fuck me 'til I can't walk straight.”

"You got it, baby," he said with a mischievous grin. Terry slammed his dick inside you, filling you to the hilt and setting every nerve ending ablaze.

"Damn, mmmm...you feel so amazing!" His breathing was labored and erratic as he pulled back out slowly before slamming back in even harder.

"Goddamn, yes, Terry! yes, Fuck me like you mean it!" Your words mixed with moans as he relentlessly pounded into you. "Harder, Terry! I want it harder!"

"No problem, babe," he grunted, picking up the pace. Sweat beading on both your brows as your bodies slapped together in carnal rhythm. “I’m gonna give it to you so good,” he said with a moan.

"I know you will, Terry," you moaned. "I know you gonna fuck me senseless."

"You better believe it," he growled, reaching around to roughly squeeze one of your plump breasts, tweaking the hard nipple between his fingers.

"You like that, huh? You like it when Daddy squeezes your tits while he fucks you?"

"Yes! Yes, Daddy, I love it!" you cried out, arching your back to meet him stroke for filthy stroke. "Squeeze them harder, make me cum again!"

Terry obliged, pinching and twisting your nipples as he continued to pound into you mercilessly. Your moans filled the room, bouncing off the walls in a symphony of lust and desire.

"Oh shit, baby, I'm close," Terry grunted, his breath coming in short pants. "I'm gonna…I'm gonna…"

"Cum inside me! Cum deep inside of me and show me how much you love me!" you screamed, your own orgasm building up once more.

"Damn, my nasty girl," Terry groaned before picking up the pace even more. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart. Feels like heaven. fuck I love you.”

As if that were the final push needed, both of you came undone together. Terry roared out his release as he pumped hot thick ropes of cum deep inside you.

"Terry, Terry, Terry" you screamed, chanting his name at the top of your lungs as your body quaked with another mind-shattering orgasm.

Your bodies trembled together as the last waves of pleasure washed over you. Terry collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting presence as you both struggled to catch your breath.

After a moment, he rolled to the side, pulling you into his arms. "That was…incredible," you panted, nuzzling into his chest. "You're incredible," Terry murmured, kissing your forehead tenderly.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as your heartbeats slowly returned to normal. You lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow.

[demonic0angel]

Prolonged ecto contamination can cause regenerative abilities. This is great when something important is stabbed or a limb is lost. But for other things, not so much.

“Daddy,” A five year old cried, “somethings wrong with mommy!”

Jason ran to his and his wifes room. He stopped by the door, taking in Jazz's tense still frame perched on the edge of their bed. She gazed at a small cylinder object cluched in her hands.

"Jazz?" Jason called.

She slowly lifted her gaze to him and turned the object around, revealing two pink lines.

"Is-is that an old one?" Jason stammered.

Jazz moved her head to side to side.

"Defective?"

"I've done ten of them, all the same."

But, but that couldn't be. Jason mentally floundered. After a failed vasectomy resulting in kid numer six and then a failed tube tying causeing baby number seven, Jazz had a hysterectomy.

Jason opened his mouth to address this but then remembered that their kids were in the room. It wouldn't be good for kids to witness their parents having a meltdown over a positive pregnancy test. Or discuss a possible lawsuit against a certain hospital and surgeon.

Switching gears, Jason called to his kids, "Come on tribe! To the living room for a movie."

"What about Mommy?" the five year old protested.

"Don't worry," Jason scooped up his kid and pecked her forehead. "Your dad got this," he said with way more confidence than he felt.

(OML I LITERALKY FUCKING ROLLED WHEN I SAW THIS ASK ASDFGHHKLLL THIS IS SO FUNNY BC IN MY ORIGINAL IDEAS ABIUT ANGER MANAGEMENT, THEY HAVE 5 KIDS)

Jazz stared at him blankly. Jason stared back. They both stared at each other. Then he admitted, “I don’t think I got this.”

Thank goodness their oldest, Elinor, was able to understand and distract all of her siblings. Now it was just Jason, Jazz, and their Ancient ghost dog alone to discuss what to do next.

Jazz continued staring at him, holding Shadow in her arms before she said, “Y’know, we could….”

“Don’t even start,” he said in exasperation. While he would always give her the choice, he knew that none of them would actually genuinely consider it.

She sighed. “I know. I want it anyways. It’s mine. It’s our baby.”

Her possessiveness was so cute. Jason reached over to hug her, squeezing her gently and placing his chin on her head. It was a bit difficult due to her height, but she hunched over to tuck herself into his arms, so it was a little easier.

“We’ll handle it. Together, like always. It’s not like we’re lacking in money anyways. And we have plenty of rooms and we can get help from our support groups. I can take another break from being Red Hood and you’ve never stopped your online therapy sessions, so I think we can do this.”

Jazz sighed, nodding before she suddenly groaned aloud and used a fist to hit Jason’s chest. Jason blinked. “What?”

“You know what my siblings call me?! They call Miss Weasley! At this rate, we’ll have a football team by the time we’re done!”

Jason tried not to laugh but a twitch must’ve alerted Jazz to his amusement because she looked up at him and glared. Shadow growled lightly on her lap. She scolded, “You’re giving the news to our families again. And I won’t stop Dan from trying to kill you this time.”

“Even if it makes you a single mother to 7 kids?” Jason asked idly.

Jazz paused and then she cursed softly. Jason snorted into her shoulder before Jazz then said, “I think after this, we’re using condoms again.”

Horrified, Jason lifted his head up and stared at her in disbelief and shocked horror. “What!”

“Jason! We have 7 kids now! Can I please get a break!”

Jason groaned, long and loud. Then he sighed, rubbing Jazz’s sides in faux sadness as he bemoaned, “Fine… since I love you so much… I’ll wear protection next time…”

Jazz pinched his cheek with a little narrowed eye stare and smile, shaking lightly but she said, “Thank you, dearest. We’ll handle this together, alright? It won’t be easy, but we’ve done this six times before, we can do this a seventh time. I think I should ask Dan how he does it…” she mumbled more plans to herself, as Jason just held her, closing his eyes.

If his past self was ever told that he’d have a wife and seven kids, he was sure that he’d probably snitch to the cops that someone was hallucinating.

Not that he’d ever trade this for the world, of course.

[lilcathsmith]

Bones Season 10? Finished!!

I enjoyed this season a lot more than recent seasons. Bones and Booth were (for the most part) a lot more at ease with each other and the more personal side of the majority of episodes were a lot lighter and easy to watch.

That being said.... SWEETS 😭😭😭 Spoiler Alert: knowing about your favourite character dying 5 seasons in advance does NOT make it easier to watch and in all honesty I think it fucked me up more than I thought it would, I didn't watch any episodes for a while (about a week).

I don't think it helped that Aubrey was brought in so close after (*before) he died, I didn't even get an episode to get used to Sweets not being there and also why does Aubrey look so similar to Sweets 😭 That being said, I do love Aubrey, he's kind of cocky and maybe a bit arrogant but he's funny and he cares about Booth SO MUCH (also that scene with him and Christine was so cute).

The Cam and Arastoo plot with Arastoo going back to Iran was hard and I hated seeing Cam so worried about him (and are they actually broken up or just on a break? I'm confused?).

And finally Angela and Hodgins and Paris 🥺 I love that both of them were so willing to give up their dream for the other (although I am so glad that they decided to stay bc I don't know how I would have handled the last two seasons without them, I do hope they go at the very end though).

Episode Highlights:

- The Conspiracy in the Case: Booth in prison felt unnecessary? He was literally in prison for like 10 minutes I just feel like it didn't add much (except more trauma for Booth 😎👉). And those last 5 minutes were painful!!! I was fully convinced that Sweets was safe for at least another episode bc surely they wouldn't kill a character off with only 5 minutes to go? Oh how wrong was I! I actually threw my phone to the other side of my bed in pure distress and just lay there for 10 minutes crying.

- The Lance to the Heart: ow ow ow ow ow 🥲 I was crying every 5 minutes at this episode. Christine saying "uncle Sweets is taking me to the park" RUINED ME and everyone singing Sweets favourite song at the end I was absolutely done 😭

- The Corpse at the Convention: Now I don't know whether it's because I've watched too much CSI BUT why is everyone still allowed to work on cases when THEY ARE LITERALLY SUSPECTS? Hodgins was literally there analysing evidence in a case he was an actual suspect in and it stressed me out! But this was a pretty good episode.

- The Lost Love in a Foreign Land: This episode was sad 😔 The scene where Booth is talking to all the women was heartbreaking and when the translator just looked at him and said "Do you really need me to translate this?" just devastated me.

- The Puzzler in the Pit: Seeley Lance Sweets Wick 🥲 I'm fine, totally completely, fine.

- The 200th in the 10th: I LOVED THIS EPISODE! It was so fun and different, I loved everybody's alternative roles and the bit where Angela and Hodgins were flirting was so cute.

- The Eye in the Sky: oh this episode pissed me tf off! I was certain it was going to be the start of a Booth Addiction Relapse plot and then when he arrested the guy instead of placing the bet I was RELIEVED AND SO HAPPY and then 5 minutes later he ruined it and I was so disappointed :((

Onwards to Season 11! (*31 episodes left bc I've already watched 3 episodes of season 11🙃)

New crime show obsession?

I've finally decided to dive into the world of Bones and I'm going to take you on the journey with me! So here goes!

☆☆☆

I've watched the pilot and am immediately into it. I'm intrigued by the focus of the show as when I'm watching CSI I find the scenes where they recontruct a victims face from the skull really cool and the people who do irl and soooo talented!

Also, the opening scene? The skull in the bag? Obsessed!

Already in love with Brennan and Booth's dynamic, feels very Finn/Russell - there's been some angst in the past that we haven't let go of - I'm excited for their back-and-forth-banter.

Straight away, I like Brennan and Riva, they're funny and cool and I hope they have as good of a relationship as this first episode has shown.

I probably won't write my thoughts on EVERY episode, maybe do mid-season and season finale summaries idk we'll see!

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM FINAL FANTASY VII REMAKE *  assorted dialogue from the game, adjust as necessary

whatever happens, you can't fall in love with me.

promise you'll come and save me.

we need to make the most of the time we have... to live our lives the way we wanna live. every minute, every moment, matters.

i'm glad i met you, [name]. i really am.

i'm grateful for all the words we've shared, for all the moments and the memories.

you've made me more happy than you know.

there's a much bigger threat.

i just want to do everything in my power to help.

can i come?

then it's a date!

a long time ago i used to sell flowers here.

go. follow your heart.

i'm not some princess who needs to be coddled.

sorry i'm late.

this calls for a song.

this is a one time gig. when it's done, we're done.

survival can be a matter of luck or skill. and you can't rely on luck.

if it feels wrong, don't do it.

i'm a light sleeper.

when we were kids, everybody wanted to be a soldier. by the time i made it in, they didn't need heroes anymore.

i'm not cut out for this crap.

quit acting like you know me.

you have to look at the bigger picture here.

nothing worth fighting for was ever won without sacrifice.

hold onto this.

a good man who serves a great evil is not without sin.

i'm a man of modest dreams.

answer me!

would kill for a shower.

i'll be fine. you've seen how much ass i can kick.

it's kinda funny. us going our separate ways, thinking that must be it... that we'd never meet again... and then here of all places we do.

deep down, you're a pretty nice guy.

they took everything from us. again.

i don't care! i don't want anyone else to die, please!

we should totally celebrate!

i'm sick of this! i'm sick of all of this!

are you ignoring me again?

what's with you all of a sudden? like you're losing that hard edge.

you can't do this.

you gotta be better than this if you're gonna play the hero.

is it our destiny to defy destiny?

i am what you see before you. nothing more.

you are too weak to save anyone. not even yourself.

those who look with clouded eyes see nothing but shadows.

that was then, this is now.

you have failed again.

through suffering you will grow stronger. isn't that what you want?

do you fear me?

do you dream of me?

you're not real. you're dead.

you should rest up while you can.

can't sleep?

i heard footsteps.

sorry. didn't mean to wake you.

it kinda feels like i've gone back to my childhood home.

everyone dies eventually.

do i get a say in all this?

i'm coming for you.

did you miss me?

[priv-heree]

Things/details I miss when reading fanfics

okay, recently I had a strange thought: I miss reading 3 types of things in heroes/DC/batfam fanfics. Like, the things I'm going to mention here are not mandatory to write, and if you think they are unnecessary details, okay. I also won't stop reading precious fanfics because of this. I just thought about creating this post commenting on the subject, because I thought it would be interesting.

So, I miss 3 things in fanfics:

(headcanon) the fact that the heroes, at least public figures like Bruce/Oliver and Batfam, know how to apply makeup professionally (at least, do the foundation). They probably have someone who knows how to do this for them, like Alfred. But they alone must know how to apply makeup very well. Bruce for exemple has to know how to do this, because he must have A LOT of dark circles under his eyes and permanent bruises on his jaw, and he's probably paler than he appears to be on television. It's so funny that he probably puts on makeup before appearing in public! It would be great to see fanfics show this side of him without makeup: worn out and with several scratches on his chin.

Training or warming up. Like, they're already strong naturally, especially with daily practice on the streets or saving the world. But sometimes it would be so cool for more fanfics to casually describe, for example, Jason at his place lifting weights, doing sit-ups and other warm-ups while talking to someone (or just warming up for a patrol). This is a simple detail, not necessary, but I dunno, just imagining it makes me like: 🫦🫦. Imagine Cass doing push-ups all sweaty 🫦 (we listen n we dont judged).

body hair. I don't read a lot of straight sex, but of the few I've seen, the characters' private parts are either smooth, or there's no mention of hair. And it’s like that in lesbian and gay sex too. Of course, there are fanfics that describe characters having body hair, but it's not common. DON'T GET ME WRONG, this is not a fetish of mine, and I personally prefer my partner and I to be "smooth" (forgive me for the gratuitous intimacy), but in the superhero universe it makes sense for them not to be smooth. Some of the characters may like to shave, especially women characters, but they wouldn't always have the time. Describing the characters as having body hair would be more realistic for me. Normally for hero men in comics, their chests and legs contain some hair, although not all of them and it depends on the artist. Of course, sometimes the writer might not like this, or don't think it's an important detail to mention. I know! With this post I'm not trying to force anyone into anything because it would be more "real". These are just thoughts that came to my mind.

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 12

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (Next chapter switches to Explicit)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,652 of 32,210

Start | Prev

AO3 Link

"What happened?" he asks, pulling me to my feet. "What's wrong?"

My legs shake and I try to catch my breath, feeling my nails weakly trying to grip the tweed of his jacket. "It's the conductor," I say. "Not the same guy."

The Wizard exhales a laugh at this. "Yes," he says. "We've been changing out conductors at every stop. Did you think it was the same man shoveling coal for the past three days?"

"N-No... but-"

"Look," he says, "why don't you get some rest? You’re tired from- What were you doing? Running?” He gives me a funny look as he tries to rearrange my wind-swept hair. “We've got a ways until we get to Rouncible."

The words he's saying seem right, but there's just something I can't shake about the conductor. I don't say anything as he takes my hand. I glance back at the Frottica station passing by as he helps me up the steps and back into the living compartment.

"I know that this week has been stressful and all, but I really need you to keep it together." He wraps the woolen blanket from the first night around me and guides me to sit in one of the chairs. "The cold can do funny things to the brain. You're... uh... It's going to be alright, okay?"

I nod my head once, staring out the window as we pick up a good and decent speed. Maybe now was the time to get religious. Maybe if I prayed hard enough then this whole war would be over and I would be free to go. A divine intervention.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I snapped at you," he says.

"S'okay," I say, staring out the window. A light snow has started to fall, adding to the already heaping piles of the stuff that corridor the rail.

"We still haven't heard from Morrible, and she might be able to convince the Lord-Mayor to talk some sense into Thropp. That letter, it was only the first from days ago."

"Can you-" I stop, hesitating to ask. "Can we just sit together?"

To that, he doesn't say anything. The matching chair is dragged back over from the bedside. He sits down in it, holding my hand as I watch the snow fall, every flake a silent prayer that I would be able to see Fileah alive again.

______________________________________________

The light snow has turned to pellets of ice, giving the illusion that the roof of the train is being pelted with handfuls of rice. It’s been two, maybe three hours, and the sun has begun to paint the horizon in bruising shades of purple and indigo. The Wizard's hand is still in mine, keeping true to my request, even if I'm not really present. My gaze has been fixed on the pines that start as dark green blots of ink when they appear along the brass edge of the window, only to grow great and monstrous in size. It's the only place I can look. There was no way back, and the sooner I accepted my fate, the sooner I could plan my next move. Maybe there would be someone at the war council who pitied me enough to smuggle me back.

I've come to accept that my brain concocted the fear of the conductor as a way to stop me from leaving him. As we sit in silence, free from any pressure of time, I can see how ridiculous the idea is. The Wizard doesn't need someone to look after him. He is the Wizard of Oz, a grown man, more than capable of taking care of himself, capable of governing our great land even. I don't need him, and he doesn't need me. The next time I get the chance to get away, I won't hesitate.

I watch as the trees start to curve, cutting off the white path ahead. My free hand grips the wooden chair arm as I anticipate the slowdown that will lurch me. There wasn't always a warning – when I had spent that day out in the hallway I had taken to always having a free hand on the railing, especially with my nose in my book – but when there was, it was nice to know so I could stabilize myself. I wait, watching as the trees draw closer, but the slowdown doesn't come.

"Hey," I say, shaking the Wizard's hand. He had fallen asleep with the gentle rocking of the train but still managed to keep his hand in mine. "Hey!" I shake his shoulder.

He sputters to life, looking around. "Hmm? What? What’s going on?"

I say, "Something's wrong."

"Not the conductor business again. I told you-"

"No," I cut him off, "it's not that. The train. It's going too fast."

"Well the train is going to go fast," he replies. "That's what trains do."

I push up from my seat, pointing to the window. "No... No, look at the curve." The tree cutoff is even closer now.

The Wizard blinks sleepily as he cranes himself to get a better look. "I don't-"

A panic seizes me and I can feel my heart beat through every joint in my body as I pull him from the chair. "We need to- We need to-"

He must finally see the curve coming closer and closer, feel the way the train is not halting, because his muscles become taut under my grip. "It's not slowing," he mumbles.

I pull him one last time and this time, he comes away from the chair without effort. Our bodies tangle as we head for the exit, limbs both reaching for the door. He hugs me to his side, pressing my limbs against him as he throws open the door to the hallway.

"Something was wrong," he says. "You were right... God, you were right."

I slap my hands against his chest as he's carrying me down to the hallway. "Stop! We can't just go out there with no coats."

"Doll," he interrupts, "now is not the time to be worrying about co-"

I push out of his grasp, flying back into the living compartment to grab our coats. The thick wools in hand, he yanks me back out into the hallway and drags me down to the entrance steps. He throws open the door to the outside and the howling wind becomes deafening. The ice pellets that had sounded so gentle on the roof of the car are now flying past in a blinding wall of glass, the glitter of the snow along the tracks a deadly glimmer of shards that does not slow.

"We're-" the Wizard swallows, "We're going to have to jump."

I am doing nothing more than standing, but my heart can’t tell. "On the count of three," I squeak.

"One, two." I can't finish it.

"Three," he says.

We jump from the train in a dive and my stomach drops for the brief moment that we're flying from the car. The icy ground knocks the wind from me as we roll in the snow, tumbling to a stop. Everything hurts, and I can hear the Wizard groaning in pain. I try my best to push myself up, but yelp as my right wrist recoils from the blinding agony. Quickly, I'm cradling the injury to my chest.

"We have to-" I cough, surely drowned out by the thundering of the wheels. I try again, shouting as loud as my breathless lungs will allow me, "We have to get out of here!"

The train is still careening forward. I don’t want to be around when the wrought iron time bomb derailed and exploded.

"No-" the Wizard says, clutching his woolen coat to his chest. "Just five minutes, alright?"

I test my other arm, and satisfied with no pain, I push myself up. He's wallowing in the snow, swooped hair laden with wetness and fresh flake, eyes screwed shut in denial. I grab hold of him with my good arm, trying to ignore how the snow was already soaking into my clothes.

"Get up," I grit. "Come on, you can't just give up and die now. Get up."

"No-" the Wizard groans. "No this isn't such a bad way to go." The sun is now fully below the horizon and I know if we don't put as much distance between us and the train as possible, if it doesn't kill us, the lack of shelter will, and that will be impossible to find in the darkness.

I drop his arm and slap him across the face. That causes him to open his eyes. "It's not just you out here, asshole," I croak. My vocal cords are fried from the attempted screaming. "I'm not going to let you fucking die. Now, come on." I fall to the side of him, tugging his arm to at least get him onto his side.

The train is at the curve now, and my eyes cannot be torn away from the horror that unfolds. The terrible iron beast is jerked easily off of the track, like it were a toy in the hands of a child, sliding on its side as it twists and tumbles and turns. BANG! The sound is deafening, cracking through my bones and making me slam my sore wrist against my ear as a hundred yards away the locomotive explodes in a terrible bubbling cloud of fire infected with black vines of smoke. Parts of the engine sail sky-high as they are shot from the wreck like fireworks. My eyes trace the trajectory of one particularly misshapen piece.

"Move!" I scream, scrambling to my feet to drag the Wizard backward. I can’t drag him more than a few feet, but it's enough for the scrap of metal to miss him by inches. His chest rises and falls as he claws at my arm, scrambling to his feet away from the burning metal.

We stand there for only a moment, watching as the great roaring fire consumes what remains of the train we had occupied together for the last three days. I don't say anything, simply heading off to where I think south-east is. There was a cabin back that way I had spotted while I stared out the window not five minutes earlier, trying to forget that I had gone back for a man who didn't need saving.

___________________________________________________

The sun has fully set by now, a high and white moon rising in its place, lending a ghostly jade glow to all of the trees. We stop every few minutes as our boots fall through the powdery mix shielded by a thin crust of ice, the cold making even the easiest task of walking utterly exhausting.

I stay beside him, not trusting him to not give up and collapse back into the snow again. If I could, I would shoulder him, but both of our arms are gripped so tight to our bodies, trying to keep what little heat remains in us as the cold sucks the warmth from our faces and causes our noses to run.

It's when I'm ready to give up and let the icy mountain air steal the last of my warmth that I spy the house. It would be generous to call it a house, the moonbeams picking out the old and weathered boards that make up the shack. It can't be more than one room. I couldn't care less, letting myself bolt for it. Anything to get some kind of warmth back into me.

The Wizard calls out to me, but I ignore him. I'm sure he's worried that I'll trip and fall. If I do, I'll just drag myself to the house with the one good hand I have left. The front door is twenty feet away when I hear the growl that turns into a half-human yell. I turn to see the wild cat, his fur a shaggy sand that blended in well enough with the snow that you might miss the black tufts on his ears or the marigold eyes that are now trained on me. He must have been watching us from the thicket of trees to the left.

"Bleeding," he growls. "So far away and bleeding." An Animal, I think.

"Please," I breathe, trying to catch my breath in the thin air. "You don't want to eat me." I slowly walk backward, hoping that I'll get to the cabin and I can then shut the door on him. My eyes, flick to the Wizard and he's too far away. There's no way he'll make it to the cabin before the wild cat gets me.

"Not much to eat up here," he growls. "You, your friend..." He's struggling to form the words and I wonder how long he's been away from humans and society. "Food... month..."

"I can get you food," I say, backing up further. The lynx steps forward with each step I take back. The Wizard is closer, but not close enough. "You could feast like a king."

"Haven't eaten in days," he says. "Better to eat now..."

My legs hit the porch and I tumble, falling onto the rickety structure. The snow is so cold that it burns my hands as I crawl backward, belly up and ripe to be ripped open. I just need to get to the door. The Animal's shoulders are thrown up now, limbs bent and ready to pounce.

"Please," I whisper, knowing that it will do nothing. Maybe it is a prayer to Lurline that my death will be quick and painless under her watchful eye.

The animal yells and leaps but the blood-curdling scream is cut off by an explosion. The lynx tumbles to the side as if a supernatural entity had smacked it away. For a moment, I think Lurline has answered my prayers, and then I see the Wizard draw closer.

He is staggering in the snow, arm outstretched to the animal. The moonlight glints off something in his palm. It's shiny and silver and there is smoke rising from it. I'm not sure what to make of it as I watch the lynx attempt to rise from the snow bank it had been flung into. A second crack of thunder echoes through the valley and the lynx slumps. Blood melts the lifeless snow around him, staining it red with life.

Puffs of steam obscure the horror and I realize just how hard I had been breathing, the wool lapels of my coat rising and falling quickly like billows. I scramble to my feet, throwing myself against the side of the cabin. I want to scream, but I don't know why; the danger is gone. Tears are already wetting my cheeks as I realize how close I was to having my guts spilled into the snow.

The Wizard finally catches up to me, climbing the snow-covered steps to the porch. He's out of breath as he cups my face in his hands. "Are you alright? It didn't get you, did it?" he asks.

"Y-You." My teeth are clacking together, the cold thoroughly ravaging me. "You saved my life."

There are tears in his eyes as he brushes a thumb against my wet cheek. "Yes," his voice breaks. "Of course..." There is nothing else to say. No words can express the sentiment as he presses his lips to my forehead. A kiss, a promise of protection.

As he pulls away I can feel all of the layers of ice I had built up against him, the ideas I had told myself over and over to try and force them to be my reality, shatter and crack. He has nothing to say about saving my life because it has always been a given, even in the ballroom when he took my hand to run and took me on the train with him.

I stand there in the silence of the snow and moonlight and kiss him.

[survivalove]

Sorry i know you don't like getting asks about this topic but it's related to your last post responding to that dumbass zk but it's funny how they keep pushing this false narrative that aang is bryke's self insert, they're clearly projecting cos that's more evident with zuko. like bryan konietzko is on record for saying zuko is his fav character and he's similar to him. dante basco refers to himself as zuko all the time while pandering to those desperate zk shippers and even said in an interview one of the reasons he ships zk is cos he was "into" mae whitman (mind you, she was only 16 and he was 30 when atla began airing)

UGH! don’t get me started on the freak that is dante basco. very nasty that he’s the only cast member that is continuously employed by the creators after the way he’s spoken about teen girls, fictional (mai) and real (mae). lol no pun intended. also lines up with the zuko favoritism you’re talking about ;)

the atla fandom has a very serious problem with logic if you haven’t noticed. the show is allegedly sooooo deep yet all their takes are beyond superficial. exhibit a:

1. aang is a mike self-insert because he’s bald

besides the fact that bryan is the one who can draw and talks about aang’s appearance the most, they cling to this narrative because it’s the easiest to sell to people that don’t know any better. just show people a picture of mike and aang and BOOM! narrative set.

meanwhile, as you said, zuko is the actual character favored by one of the creators out of his own mouth. mike has even gone on to say he used his experiences to write korra alone just like how bryan says he puts himself in zuko’s shoes when he writes episodes.

bryan is the one who joked about mike and aang having two bald heads just to state that aang’s inspiration is based on (tibetan) buddhist monks

bryan is the one who compares aang to mike while comparing himself to zuko. mike has never compared himself to aang unprompted

because the truth is, aang is a survivor of colonialism and genocide, raised outside of western ideals of masculinity. bryke clearly did their research on all the different cultures as creators and that’s commendable and all but ppl acting like that means that erases their caucasian-american perspective is bonkers.

aang can never be a self-insert to them because they are closer to the oppressors than the oppressed and that’s just a fact

zuko, on the other hand, the boy raised in colonial ideals who had to unlearn his wrongs, who is given chance after chance by the narrative despite his direct and indirect participation in colonialism, who is redeemed at the expense of voices of the colonized that he hurt repeatedly on his path to goodness, who is still allowed to have an empire at the end because he saw the error in his ways???

that is the most american you can get on this show and it just shows how most americans that fail to see this never saw themselves as colonizers to begin with. they just want the rest of us to skip to their redemption arc. kinda like how zuko’s arc is discussed by his superglazers lol

but i honestly can’t even just blame americans because a lot of non-american poc in this fandom i see try to push this propaganda as well. like how most of this fandom actually thinks his racist colonizer jokes are funny… or how many fans have been unironically repeating the fire nation’s supremacy logic for DECADES

the second superficial take of course is the “if i was a fourteen year old girl i wouldn’t have even looked aang’s way” thing but that has already been discussed in tandem so i’ll stop typing now

[purplecelestial-buddy]

I have a great history of holding back. Out of sight, out of mind, out of my interests or something.

So tell me why is it that I cannot avoid binge reading webtoons with weekly updates?!? gosh

I wait for until I have a bunch of un-read episodes and I swear to pace myself so I don't reach the most recent update...

and guess what

guess fucking what

[pyechmushy]

I told my wife that maybe I didn't hate Scott as much as I thought, because I ship him with 4 different people, but honestly, he's extremely autistic and would think this is hell for him

[copia]

delighted though i am for ghost's growing success i'm keeping my fingers crossed for an obviously low-budget ghovie like the chapters before it. because the papa nihil darth vader breathing and seestor's car crash montage and the shitty nihil ghost effects and copia living in the hall outside a bathroom with no door etc all add a certain je ne sais quoi

[whos-hotter-jjba]

Hottest JJBA Outfit Bracket - Round 2 Match 2

[sskk-manifesto]

It always makes me crack how Kyouka carrying Atsushi's sensless body just launches herself for several meters straight into the sea, and Kunikida somehow manages to catch them exactly on the fly. How are they still alive

[ashildrs]

having big big thoughts about the slow horses books. putting my heart and soul into believing the show writers know what they're doing

[youling-the-ghost]

I hate being gullible so much because people often think it's funny to fuck with you just because you'll believe it every time. There's been so many times when people who know I'm gullible would purposefully say incorrect facts or make absurd jokes just to see me believe them and laugh in my face. I get it, it's amusing to see me believe the most asinine statements ever, but please at least try to see how this is incredibly degrading from my perspective. My gullibleness symbolises my trust in you and your words, and it genuinely hurts when you make fun of that. And yes, it is "just a joke" but it's not about the joke itself, it's about what that joke represents.

This especially pisses me off when people point out how gullible I am and it's like, I get it I believe in every absurd statement that you throw at me now please leave me the fuck alone. I'm not a zoo animal for you to jeer at, I'm a human being with thoughts and emotions and all I want is for you to understand that stating increasingly absurd facts just to laugh at me when I believe it is humiliating to me.