#crap assed story i write because

[capsensislagamoprh]

The air felt like melting ice. Damp, warm enough to cause a shiver, and promising brighter things. Chandlers began to liquefy, windows dripped pure waters in rolling cascades as the floor hollowed beneath the panicked steps of the young noble's feet. Something was wrong. The dream felt far away, thin. It seemed to have snapped. No. Not snapped. It felt stuck, as if one wrong move would tear it asunder, as if it were strained.

Yuri held his head, oblivious to the waves of heat rolling off him. He was trapped. He was stuck. He was in pain. He was everything he'd never felt before, and it was terrifying. Somewhere in the back of his head an image formed. A slight smile, warm as the autumn rays. It seemed to say it would be okay, Yuri only needed to wait. Victor would be back soon. He would know what to do. He would know why Yuri was in pain.

Yuri was going to find out what caused this unpleasantness. Then he was going to bury its bits across the Courts with painstaking cruelty. He was going to break it down to its parts and use them to build a monument. He would title it 'Why It Is Never a Good Idea to Fuck With Yuri.' He'd mount their heads on pikes outside the Shimmering Cascade as a warning to all who were and would be. He just needed to stop this agony.

The pain became worse. He could feel the fraying. It was like a thousand cold iron needles being dragged along his skin, embedding themselves into his veins. Every drop of gold drawn in bloody savagery his only protection from the deeper agony of feeling something being taken away, ripped from his existence. Willing to let itself die, if it meant he would live. It sacrificed, quiet and waiting, leaving an unfillable gap in Yuri's armored soul. It was like his enchantments were shivering, one by one. All so he could survive.

No. Not him. Not Yuri. Victor. All so Victor could survive.

Eyes the color of freshly turned earth, fertile and strong, healthy, ready for growth and the challenges of living flashed before his eyes. Yuri dropped to his knees, nails sharp as any animals biting into his chest. His eyes leaked, misery and torment accepted as if it were an every day way of being. The pain grew, and flourished, a dark gem of congealed longing seemed to burst in his throat.

His scream sent golden blazes of fiery light arching thrugh the grounds of the Palace of Seasons. Shimmering Cascade began to wash away, arctic winds failing under the onslaught of such grief.

The Winter King stepped into the wreckage of the ball room, his every movement freezing the waters as he tried to reach the small form collapsing to the ground in slow motion. Sliding on his knees, an arch of frozen splash crystalline in his wake, Victor caught his cousin as his eyes closed, unable to bear the suffering.

Lifting the bird like bones, Victor turned, surveying the damage. Closing his eyes, he began to feel the particles of wet, the clinging, sticky coyness of water as it dripped onto tapestries, threatening to turn untouched snow into sheets of cold traps formed of ice. Victor carried his cousin to the hall. Many courtiers had fled in the wake of Yuri's wrath. Victor's eyes scanned the faces of trembling fey. Lilia, that blessed matron of propriety, said nothing as she motioned for the Summer Guard to take hold of the limp form, releasing Victor from the dreadful sensation of cold burning fire.

As Yuri was swept away to recover, Victor turned to his ruined palace. With a rise of his hands, his feet in refined repose, he began the dance of reforming. His feet slid across the ground, the ice reforming, the wet climbing, drips stopping mid plop, racing back to there designated place. Icicles became etched, carved into wondrous beauty. Windows frosted over, leaving artful patterns of crystalized enticement, glittering with possibility.

Victor spun, his arms reaching, his back arching as he kicked himself up into a move that sent him closer to the ceiling than anyone had the right to reach. His landing was perfect, the roof once again whole. People moved instinctual out of his way as he danced the broken edges, using them to add grace and beauty to his creation, until finally, he rested on the throne of Ice, head pressed against his hand.

He was the Winter King. To him, this was nothing. The happy smiles of his court, the wonder in there deathless eyes, smiles full of joy, could not be reflected in his own. Correcting the damage of Summer was child's play. What had to be done next was not. How was he going explain to Yuri the most impossible thing? He thought his pain was deep, but before he could contemplate how to broach anthers agony Lord Giacometti pranced into the room smelling of rose blooms and something tawdry.

"Who was it!"

Victor looked at Christophe with a raised brow.

"I felt it. We all did. Well, all us of Spring. Herregud, hjärtesorgen!!" He said, bursting out a wave of feeling that sent near by courtiers swooning, delicate tears carefully dabbed into embroidered handkerchiefs. "It was like something was sundered in two!"

Christophe. Christophe was a spring fey. He knew how to handle delicate things. He understood emotion. Victor rose, motioning for Christophe to follow, and Christophe did.

part 1

[simplydozing]

𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥

Stanford Pines X Reader After your reunion and a few shared drinks atop the Mystery Shack, you show him something about yourself that no one would even think you have. Word Count: 1222 || Ao3, Wattpad

A/N: Sorry For Being Inactive, There Was A Lot Going On These Past Couple Of Months. But I Prevail! (Long Enough To Write A Little Something For You Guys, Granted It's Not Ghost Related. Sorry About That Too, By The Way. Maybe And Hopefully You Guys Will Enjoy Anyway!) Thank You SO Much For Your Patience!

Oh what a time to be alive.

Your dear friend, one who’s been missing for the past few years, came back through an interdimensional portal that your boss made under his gift shop.

Indeed.

That doesn’t matter though, that’s a story for another day. He was back and that’s all you cared about.

Slurred words and laughter filled the warm night air as you both sat on the roof of the Mystery Shack. A few soda cans were strewn around, along with a couple of glasses and a bottle of your finest whiskey. You saved it for a time like this. You both had a couple of drinks already to start the night off so you’d be loose enough to talk. Because let’s be real, 30 years does something to a man. 30 years also made him the silver fox he is today and you needed a little something to distract yourself from that fact.

But enough of that now.

He was telling you about the things that Bill did to him while he was possessed.

“And then I almost got arrested for the third time! I had a real track record going then.”

You both laughed.

“I remember something like that! You went buck ass wild at one point in college,” you took a sip from your soda.

“You did a lot of stuff that I thought you would never do.”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“Yeah, I thought that too,” he rubbed the back of his neck, remembering that you attended the same university he did. You heard a lot from him.

“I also remember something about you waking up with a new tattoo,” you smiled.

Ford chokes on his drink.

You clap a hand over your mouth to try and not let out the laugh you were holding. He’s frantically sputtering and wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. His face goes red and he’s fiddling with his glasses.

“That, I wish you didn’t,” he mutters.

You really didn’t mean to embarrass him, but you both used to pick on each other way back when. He should be used to it, but with the way he deflates, you could tell that it wasn’t his proudest moment. It seemed like you struck a chord.

You playfully roll your eyes and pour yourself another drink, deciding to go ahead and make things even.

“It can’t be as bad as mine though,” you pretend to sigh.

You see your plan go into effect when he perks back up.

He tilts his head with raised brows.

“You-“

“Mhm.” You abruptly answered his almost question.

“I can show you, if you’d like,” you tempt him. It could be the drinks, it could be your newfound confidence, but that twinge of seduction in your voice had him by the-

“Yes!” He blurted.

Bingo.

You down your glass of liquid courage and slide closer to him, however, you lean back and angle your side so that it would be more visible to him.

You wink, and with slow hands, you peel your shirt upwards, stopping right under your chest.

And Ford…

…Is cowering away from your form.

His glasses were off resting beside him and he had one- no, both of his hands covering his face. To add insult to injury, he turned away from you and was hunched over, further avoiding your gaze.

It quite honestly pissed you off.

“Stanford Pines, I asked if you wanted to see it!”

You still had your shirt raised.

“I-I didn’t know it would be in a place s-so…”

He paused, trying to look for the right (respectful) word.

“Revealing.”

Your face untwisted itself from anger and relaxed to a more somber, a more understanding look.

Despite being able to irritate the crap out of you, he was still a proper gentleman. He would never look at anyone’s body without their consent. On purpose, anyway.

He was never as vulgar as his brother, Stanley.

“Stanford,” you breathe.

Seeing how he would rather not “expose you to his wandering eyes” (he has said this before when he accidentally walked in on you changing) and would refuse to look at you instead of asking you to cover up made you realize just how soft and respectable he can be. It made your heart flutter.

He peeked through his fingers, still turned away from you.

“You can look, it’s just on my side.”

He shifts.

“You’re fine with me looking?”

“Yes.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Stanford-“

“Okay! Okay.”

He uncovers his face and reaches behind him for his glasses.

“I’m about to look,” he announces as he places them on his face.

He takes a shuddering breath and calmly turns back to you.

And what he sees makes his face go red.

You have a tattoo of a unicorn bursting through a field of clouds with a rainbow shooting from its horn. It covers your rib cage almost entirely.

His eyes. You never thought they could get that wide.

There’s a second spent in awe before he looks up at you, a hand coming up to touch it before immediately halting.

“May I?”

You simply nod.

Even with you allowing him to feel you, he does so with such hesitation.

His fingers make contact with the slightly faded ink and begin to trace each line.

He feels the same way he did when he found the symbol of the prophecy.

You watch him glide his way over your once drunken mistake.

Until he hits a certain spot that makes you twitch. He stops as soon as he feels you jolt.

“I’m sorry, I-I must have-“

“No, no. It’s okay! I’m just… a little ticklish there is all,” you calm him before he has the chance to freak out.

But you may have given him an idea instead.

“Ticklish, you say?” His fingers wriggle, threatening you.

“Don’t you dare!” You release your shirt and scoot away.

Laughter rang out in the night once again. He refrained from tickling you, being a man of his nature, but he now knows a new way to get under your skin.

“You were right, you know. That was bad,” he playfully nudges your shoulder.

“Hey! Be glad you saw it, Ford!“ You chide.

“No one even suspects I have a tattoo in the first place!”

Admittedly, you never told anyone about it. Not only did no one ask about it, but you were the type to keep to yourself. You don’t reveal too much of yourself unless you get to know someone.

“Really?!”

He almost took you out from how quick his gaze met yours.

You slid back to him, right next to him, and eased your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah…”

He gently rested his head on top of yours and slowly wrapped his arm around you.

When things settled down, you both stared off to the sky. The two of you had to sober up a bit before turning in for the night.

In truth, Ford could spend the rest of his life like this with you. He won’t tell you that, though.

Not yet, anyway.

For now, he was going to take this moment and etch it in his memory for a journal entry later.

“Unicorns don’t actually look like that, by the way.”

“I’m going to shove you off this roof.”

[echobx]

not to be that bitch. but if you, as a fellow white person, go and send hate or condescending messages to poc writers or artists bc they write poc reader or draw poc OCs or whatever, I'm gonna hunt you for sport. "I can't picture myself as a poc reader" fuck do you know how poc feel with how fucking racist a lot of fandoms are?? with how little inclusivity there is in stories written by white people? and they don't come to you bitches and shit on you, because they are decent human beings and know that you bitches actually don't care, because if you would, you would at least try to be more inclusive. also, how come you bitches are okay with the descriptions of reader that don't correlate with your own body (hair length, boob or ass shape, eye color, whatever it is) but as soon as reader is described to have features that are more distinct with poc you suddenly lose all your capabilities for imagination. yk why? because you're being racist like that. and you can say whatever you want about how you're "an ally actually" and all that crap bc at the end of the day, as long as you do this shit, you still are acting in racist ways, probably with racist mindsets deep rooted inside your brain. so go and work on that shit. no one is unfailable, but you should at least do your fucking best to not be a piece of shit every fucking day.

[buggyjuggie]

Hi! Can you write Mk mans x Pokémon trainer reader?

Basically reset somehow got into Earthrealm with not way back to their world and Liu Kang decided to kick them as one of his champions since he saw a potential in them. And when reader explains their world they like “Well yeah we have a Pokémon that possibly can destroy world” and “once I battled against god and mafia when I was ten haha”

──★ ˙ ̟ Random Mk1 men x GN! Pokemon trainer reader

Note: Im so sorry that this took so long to come out my mental health kinda took a nose dive with my creativity and i didn’t want to half ass this so that’s why this ended up being so short I apologise

「 ✦ Havik ✦ 」

* Lets start with just a random man Havik: he LOVES you and your little creatures

* Immediately asks which one is strongest

*Has tried teaching your pokemon about the way of living in chaos and freedom (basically indoctrinated them into his belief)

* Havik absolutely adores hearing stories of your realm, like you mean when you were 10 years old you took down a mafia gang, competed in a tournament and battled with a gang. ALL OF THAT and your fighters these little things. He’s impressed and entertained for hours

* Havik’s favourites are poison, ghost and rock type pokemon

「 ✦ Johnny Cage ✦ 」

* ,, Can i make a movie about these little guys please 🥺“

* Buys them clothes, accessories and dresses them up, they’re like little plushies to him

* Haa definitely bought custom glasses with the first letter of they’re names for all your little friends

* He posts pictures about your pokemon on insta even tough you said to explicitly NOT do it (he just tells people its photoshop

* When you tell him stories of all the wacky stuff that you see in your world he desperately want to go to the point he begs Liu kang to send him to your universe

「 ✦ Liu Kang ✦ 」

* He takes care of timelines and also now your pokemon

* Because he is the god of fire Liu Kang radiates a lot of warmth so when he meditates all your palls lay down next, on or near him

* Liu kang spoils the crap out of your pokemon to the point where they are absolutely attached to him following him all the time, annoying him and and some just bite his legs a sign of love but also attachment

* Ok this ones obvious bcuz hes a fire god he tends to like fire type and dragon type pokemon

* Looks at you with the most concerned expression possible while your just happily smiling and telling stories about how you fought off a mafia

「 ✦ Bi-han ✦ 」

* Goes withouth saying that fighting, ice and flying type pokemon are most interesting to Bihan

* Bihan learns the hard way that you can’t train pokemon like little soldiers and you teach him how to properly train them

* If you and Bihan ever manage to return to your universe he’ll look at you with proud eyes when you win battles

* Tries to apply the same strategy you use when in combat to his own fights or training sessions for the Lin Kuei soldiers

* Don’t even try to explain how certain types are categorised or how some pokemon can defeat other with the most random luck because he’ll just end up with a headache

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[allbark-no-bite]

kiss me and apologize || Carmen Berzatto x reader

summary: from private chef to working in a rundown restaurant in Chicago, your life does a 180 as you try to fit into the world that is the Beef. Richie isn’t helping and Carmen just can’t figure you out

word count: 3.7k

warnings: swearing, mentions of michael’s death/suicide

author’s note: so um i guess i write for the Bear now?? official obsessed with the show and was inspired by all of the great writers that write for Carmy on here :)

"Carmen? The door?"

"What—? Oh yeah, yeah. Sorry."

He turns towards the door, fumbling for the key with numb fingers, his face burning hot.

He wasn't used to anyone else besides himself showing up to the restaurant so early in the morning, and he definitely wasn't used to you and your pink cheeks and and warm smile greeting him at the door. You were a new hire to the Beef, a godforsaken miracle dressed in oversized overalls who had shown up two weeks ago and been hired by Sydney on the spot.

She had been smitten with you from the start, dead set on hiring you without so much as a second interview.

"—studied in Copenhagen, worked at multiple Michelins in New York. I mean look at this, Carmen. She's a private chef in the Hamptons. We would be stupid not to hired her."

And you were great. You are great. Except for the fact that you're really fucking distracting.

"You sure you got it, chef?"

Carmen can't even blame the heat rising from his cheeks from the cold at this point because his hands are sweating as he jiggles the door knob that somehow always seems to get jammed at the worst possible moments. This is one of those moments.

Finally, he hefts his weight against the door while twisting the knob and it busts open. A muffled snort escapes you from behind him. Carmen steps inside, holding the door open for you with a small wave of his hand. "Sorry. I'm sure this crap isn't what you were expecting when you applied here—"

He's rambling, stomach twisting in knots. His nerves always screw up his stomach—maybe he'll pop a few Tums before—

"It's fine, Camren," you assure him, stepping in from the cold, body pressing against his in the small entry way. "I like it here."

I like you.

"Yo, am I interrupting something, cousin? You and the princess wanna take that shit somewhere else?" Richie's shout can be heard from all the way across the parking lot, and it makes Carmen visibly cringe.

"Fuck off, cousin," Carmen mutters, reluctantly breaking away from you.

Still standing in the doorway, you huff, whatever moment you and Carmen had shared broken by Richie's arrival. The taller man stomps up the front steps, shaking snow from his boots.

So far, he had been the only staff member you found unbearable. Even Tina had warmed to you after a few weeks and now took great pleasure in listening to your elaborate stories as a private chef. Richie, on the other hand, hated your guts.

"You just gonna stand there and let all the fuckin' cold air in? I'll let Sugar know to take the heating outta your paycheck."

"Fuck off, Richie."

The morning is only the beginning of his wrath.

——

"Richie, you fucking imbecile—"

"Every single time you open your mouth, all I hear is this fuckin' bullshit. Jesus, you're so fuckin' high and mighty with your fancy ass college degree," he sneers, looming over you. If he stepped any closer you would have lacked the self control not to hit him. "You wanna come in here, act like you know everything because daddy sent you to school—"

"You don't have to fucking like me, Richie, but what you're not going to do is push me around and be an egotistical misogynist just because you have a set of balls. So give me my fucking knife."

Richie's hand is in the air beside your head, waving about in wild gesticulation that he does not have your knife, or any fucking knife for that matter. "I don't have your shit!"

With your jaw clenched together, you breathe in deeply through your nose and take in the taller man through narrowed, disbelieving eyes. "Fine." You turn on your heals and storm off. "CARMEN."

Richie throws his hands up and scoffs at your retreating back, yelling after you. "Ohh go ahead, fuckin' call mommy. Like I'm scared of him," he snorts.

"CARMEN!" Your fury only fueled by Richie's taunts, your stride quickens as you shove your way through the chaos of the kitchen, dodging both Sydney and Marcus.

"Woah, chef. What's the matter?" Sydney asks as you whip past her, her hands busy with mashing potatoes, but you don't stop to answer, instead rounding the corner like a woman on a mission.

"CARMEN—"

"—What?!" At the third sound of his name, Carmen finally jerks his head up from his prep station, only to be met with you head on. "What's going on, chef?" he repeats, looking back down to his station after taking in your vexed disposition and gathering that no one's dying. He puts on these sort of metaphorical blinders once he's in the kitchen and nothing, not even you, is going to distract him from what he does best. He becomes an entirely different animal in the kitchen.

"That fucking dickwad has my knife and he won't give it back. How am I supposed to—"

Still urgently chopping carrots, Carmen cuts you off. "Chef, just get another knife," he instructs, stepping around you to dump a pile of sliced carrots into the bin.

His dismissal throws you for a loop and leaves you open mouthed, protest caught in your throat. Just this morning he had been stuttering nervously, cheeks flushed as you stood waiting for him to unlock the staff door. Now he's biting and abrasive, domineering in the way he takes control of the kitchen. You know he's just doing his job, doing whatever it takes to keep his head above the water—keep everyone's head above the water, but right now you want to scream at him. "Just tell him to—"

"Yes, Chef," he provides, indicating that he's done refereeing yours and Richie's squabble. He moves across the station so that you have to step sideways to avoid being in his way.

"But I—"

"Yes, Chef?" Carmen effectively cuts you off with a hard stare, momentarily stopping his urgent chopping. His blue eyes are fixating despite their look of wild urgency.

When it becomes obvious that arguing your point further is going to get you nowhere, you nod, growling a reluctant, 'Yes, Chef.'

If Carmen notices your attitude, he either pointedly ignores it or is too busy shouting at Tina about onions to care. You grab a knife laid out at one of the empty stations, purposefully shoving Richie as you round the corner.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Mommy didn't take your side?" he calls from the expo station "Didn't fuckin' see that coming."

You ignore him, deciding that he's not worth anymore of your energy for the time being. There's an entire rack of ribs that needs to be sliced and it's going to take you twice as long with this poor excuse of a knife.

"Chef, how are those ribs coming?" Sydney calls amidst the kitchen chaos. "Doors open in fifteen minutes."

Glancing at the digital kitchen clock, panic sets into you as you realize just how much time you've lost. "Fuck," you mutter, more to yourself than anyone. "Ahh—I'm going to need at least twenty," you shout back.

"What? What's taking so long?" Sydney asks. You can hear her moving behind you, finishing up with her own prep.

"Yeah, what's takin' so fuckin' long?" Richie chimes in.

Your grip on the knife's handle tightens, but you don't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his words. "I'm working on it, Syd," you promise her, praying you can somehow speak that confidence into existence.

Richie is still running his mouth behind you. "Y'know, maybe you just aren't cut out for this. It's not too late to go back to makin' your fancy little hors d'oeuvres up in New York."

"Screw you, Richie," you mutter, your brow furrowed as you concentrate on cutting through the ribs. The knife is hardly cutting and it's taking everything in you not to just start hacking away and be done with it.

"This ain't a cocktail party. This is a real fuckin' business, and we don't need you over here messin' us up and screwin' around—"

"Screw. You. Richie."

"What was that? Can't hear you, princess," he taunts.

Just as you turn to open your mouth, ready to snap at him, the knife hits a dull spot and slips against your grip, catching your fingers along the way. Immediately you jerk your hand back, biting back a cry. The knife clatters to the ground at your feet.

"Fucking dammit!" you exclaim, clutching your bleeding fingers with your other hand.

"Oh now you've really fuckin' done it," Richie laughs, shaking his head.

You only glare at him before muttering, "Move," as you shove past him. To his credit, he doesn't say anymore as you shoulder him out of the way.

By the time you get to the back sink, there's blood seeping from between your gloved fingers and onto the floor. You have to fight back a whimper as you peal away the latex from your skin.

"Woah, woah— what the hell??"

Hands appear beside you, grabbing your own bloody hand and wrapping it tightly in a clean kitchen rag. You close your eyes, willing yourself not to faint. The pressure stings but serves to staunch the blood flow and relieve some of your dizziness.

When you open your eyes, Carmen's blue ones are staring at you worriedly. "You good, chef?"

You close your eyes again, this time not because you're dizzy, but rather to avoid the intensity of his stare. "Yeah," you manage hoarsely, finding your voice. "Yeah. Just bandage me up okay? I've still got prep to do."

Even with your eyes closed you can still feel his eyes on you. He's so close that you can feel the brush of his body against yours.

"Yeah, okay," he finally says, but you can hear the hesitation in his voice. Immediate loss fills your body as he pulls away, but then he's pressed up against you again, holding your fingers steady as he wraps them up.

It hurts and you want so badly to just let go of the cry of pain and frustration that you're holding back. But instead you bite the inside of your cheek and watch Carmen bandage your fingers like he's done it a hundred times before. When he's done, he draws your hand up to his mouth and tears the tape with his teeth. You force back a swallow when his lips brush your skin.

"This okay, Chef?" he asks, looking up at you with those ridiculously anxious blue eyes—anxious like he's always got somewhere to be, something to do, something on his mind. Now they're focused entirely on you.

Somehow you find your voice. "Y-yeah—yeah, thank you." You pause, still staring at him, not moving. "I, um—I should go finish prep..."

"Okay," he answers softly.

"Okay."

"—Hey." Before you turn to slip out of his office, Carmen calls after you. He raises a fist to his chest, tracing it clockwise over his heart.

I'm sorry.

Your brows furrow at his apology. "Carmen, it wasn't your—"

"Yes. It was," he clarifies, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against the desk. "I blew you off earlier and you got hurt because of it... So I'm sorry."

From the doorframe, you offer him a half smile.

"Apology accepted, Chef." And then you leave him before he can say anymore, slipping back out into the chaos of rush hour.

——

You do end up finishing you prep before opening. Your fingers hurt like a bitch, and you may need to visit a 24 hour clinic on your way home for a few stitches, but you make it though. Rush hour was hell, your head hurts from both screaming and being screamed at, but now the Beef is closed, the kitchen is quiet, and you can just breathe.

Slowly but surely, everyone files out of the kitchen once they finish their end of the day tasks, bidding you goodbyes and see you tomorrows as they leave—except for Richie, who you flip off once his back is turned.

The bell above the front door chimes, announcing Tina's departure, and then it's just you left tending to your station. Sydney had offered to take care of it for you, seeing as you were down a hand, but cleaning your space at the end of the day gives you peace of mind and time to cool down after all the chaos.

At some point, the lights in the back office click off and heavy foot steps make their way towards the kitchen. Carmen appears beside you, arms crossed as he watches you clean. He's quiet, observing the way you scrub the already pristine table top over and over and over. You don't learn that kind of precision from working in a place like this.

You're an anomaly to him and he doesn't know what to do with you

You certainly don't fit in here with your perfectly refined private school vocabulary and your Michelin star palette and your fucking expensive gold chain necklace that's probably worth more than the rent for his apartment.

"What're you doing here?" he finally asks.

"Wiping my station?" Your voice is leaning on the defensive side and he figures that probably has to do with Richie.

"Exactly," he concedes. "So what are you doing here? Because six months ago you were making fuckin' soufflés in the Hamptons."

This time you actually kind of laugh because that statement is not too far off from the truth. "I don't know, Carmen. I was bored?"

"You don't give up the Hamptons because you're bored."

You look up at him for the first time since he's walked up. There's no bristling anger in your eyes like there was earlier when Richie took your knife—he did and you both know it. You just look at him, really look at him, and then you set down the rag and you nod. "Just like you don't give up Noma?"

Carmen holds your heavy gaze for a while. It's as if some sort of unspoken understanding passes between the two of you and eventually he sighs, nodding. "Right."

You look around at the restaurant surrounding you, the stained floors, the rundown kitchen appliances, the framed 'let it rip' note. "Natalie, uh she told me about him—Micheal... I'm really sorry. He seemed like a good guy."

His eyes follow yours to the note, and he doesn't say anything for a minute, which isn't unusual, Carmen has always been decently shy since you met him, but it makes you wonder if it was a mistake bringing it up.

Strangely enough, this is the first time that someone's brought up Michael and he hasn't wanted to slam a door in their face. Normally, he would just nod and say something like, 'yeah, he was a good guy' and that would be his way of wiggling out of another unwelcome conversation, but he doesn't. Instead, he stares at the note and wonders for the first time since Micheal died if he should have gone to the funeral.

It made him feel like a fucking asshole for not going, but he couldn't listen to all those people saying how good it was to have him back—how happy Micheal would have been to have him back—because if Micheal hadn't gone and killed himself, he wouldn't be here anyhow. He'd still be in New York. He'd still be angry at Micheal like he is now.

Carmen sighs. "I—I wish that I had talked to him more instead of just fucking off to New York. Because after that I just hated coming back too all of this... y'know? And then it was like even when I was here, he kinda just knew that I didn't want to be here, and so we spent that time just fuckin'... at each other's throats.." He trails off, sniffing to clear the choked up feeling from his throat. "Just—who the fuck does that?"

He's asking you. Who shoots themself and doesn't even leave a note? Who shoots themself and leaves their little brother to pick up the remains of their shithole restaurant?

"Well," you begin, laughing a little at the absurdity of it all. "You're talking to a girl who decided to quit her job after three years as a private chef and is now slicing spare ribs in Chicago for just over minimum wage."

The unseriousness of the confession makes him crack a smile and now he's fighting a grin off of his face. "Yeah, that was uh..." He's still chuckling, shaking his head. "That was really stupid of you. Why would you do that?"

You're fighting a smile too now, heart pumping in your chest because he's really fucking pretty when he laughs. His cheeks are flushed and his curly hair is a disheveled mess and you just want to reach over and smooth a hand through it.

Your tongue wets your bottom lip and his blue eyes don't miss the nervous habit. "Well, there's this guy..."

"Yeah?" Carmen's smiling, the tired expression on his face softened by the twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, there's this guy. And I've looked up to him my entire life. He's brilliant—like really fucking brilliant. And I promised myself that if I ever got the opportunity to work for him, I would do it."

Carmen snorts softly, glancing down at the white tile floor a bit bashfully before looking back to you again. "And now you know what a freaking psycho I am, huh?"

You can see it, him retreating back into the mellow, unsure person he becomes when he's not manning an overflowing expo station, a broken freezer, and an entire staff of chefs. It's endearing how timid he is, like he almost doesn't really know himself or how he fits in anywhere outside the kitchen. "I don't think you're a psycho, Carm. I mean, I would be a little crazy too if I had what you have on my plate."

He just nods, still a little sheepish at your praise. Just like this morning, when you had caught him at the back door before opening, he doesn't know what to do with himself when you're around.

You break the silence by turning back towards your station. "I'm going to finish up here. I don't mind locking up if you don't want to stay."

Carmen watches as you lean forward onto the toes of your beat up sneakers to grab the paper towels off the overhead shelf and the hem of your hand cropped t-shirt rides up. His first instinct is to look away because the exposed flesh of your rib cage feels like something he shouldn't be seeing, much less staring at, but it's like he freezes out of panic and now he's looking at the tattoo just under your breast.

He stands there, mouth partially open to reply back to you, but it's like his tongue is numb in his mouth and he doesn't even remember what he was going to say anymore. And then it's gone, concealed again by the hem of your white t-shirt.

When you walked into the Beef two weeks ago, your tattoos had been strangely surprising to him at first. He hadn't pictured you like that in his mind—bronzed skin and tatted forearms and cherry glossed lips—just grunge enough to make anyone who passes you look twice. Now you're all he thinks about.

"Carmy. Carmy?"

You're staring at him, head cocked to the side, brows furrowed in confusion and—God, he wants to kiss you.

"Are you oka—"

"Can I kiss you?" He blurts out the question as if he won't be able to finish it if he doesn't get it all out in one breath. Like he knows that if he doesn't ask now he's never going to have the courage to do it again, and he'll be stuck shoving down these feelings for you for the rest of his life.

When you stare at him, eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights, he knows he screwed up. His stomach drops and—fuck, he really needs a Tums right now. He looks away, hand reaching to his hair, eyes darting to the ceiling because he can't take the embarrassment of looking at you.

"I—fuck, I'm sorry. That was totally—um. I shouldn't have—"

"Shut up, Carmen."

"No, that was stupid of me. I—"

"Shut up so I can kiss you, you moron."

Stepping forward, your hand curls around the back of his neck, drawing him down to close the gap between the two of you. Even then you have to stand on your toes to reach him. Although the tense, anticipatory stiffness of his body against yours is screaming wait, you press your lips to his before he has the chance to back down.

It's everything that a first kiss should be—hot and sweet and a bit awkwardly reserved. You can tell he’s nervous. Nevertheless, you can't help the hum that escapes you at the feeling of his plush bottom lip pressed between your own. If given the choice, you’d never pull away from the warm taste of his mouth.

Carmen's breathing heavy, heart pounding in his chest, hand pressing into your back, pulling you closer as he kisses you impossibly harder. He's never kissed a girl before and he decides then and there that he never wants to kiss any girl that's not you.

It’s not clear which of you pulls away first—coming up for air more than anything—but it leaves you both nose to nose, mouths still inches from each other, still sharing the same air that you would had your mouths been connected.

“Carmen?” you ask softly, nose brushing his as you speak. You can feel his heart beating against his chest.

“Yeah?” he replies in same breathy tone.

“Did I mention I really like it here?”

[project-sekai-facts]

which characters have cursed in-game? I know akito does a lot but I was wondering if anyone else has at all or if all the swears just go to akito and sometimes ena lmao

Akito swears the most, but I'm pretty sure some of the VBS characters (side characters included) user coarser language from time to time. If memory serves that covers Kotaro, Arata, and Tatsuya. Ena is translated as saying "pain in the ass" in the niigo main story if you count that as a swear, and I'm pretty sure she tends to use ruder language sometimes like her brother (though I don't read the scripts in their original language, so I'm basing this off of how fan TLers choose to adapt them).

Ensekai rarely puts profanity in the script. Like quite a bit of Akito's dialogue on JP could be TL'd as "fuck" or "shit" (he often uses ruder language). It makes sense though since this is a game with a relatively young target audience. I don't keep up with ensekai's translations but I don't think they've used profanity (aside from "crap" which doesn't qualify imo) much at all since 2022?

The following characters have used crap on ensekai (which again isn't really profanity but it's like the rudest word that ensekai frequently uses)

Shiho

Airi

An

Akito

Tsukasa <- only says it once

Nene

Ena <- most frequent user

Mizuki

Kotaro <- only says it once

Sometimes these are just used as filler words for exclamation points. In a flashback in the Leoneed main story one of Honami's bullies says "were you talking crap about me". That's probably the most severe the use of crap has ever been on ensekai, because it is being used as substitute for the word shit. There may be other instances of this - I didn't cross check every single piece of dialogue since it's 1am as i'm writing this and they use crap quite a lot.

Also Tsukasa says "fuck" in english twice in Dappou Rock. Len says it once in Ego Rock.

[physalian]

Take A Risk and Don’t Write a Chosen One

This trope stands the test of time for some very good reasons: Audience wish-fulfillment as they live vicariously through the hero, automatic plot-induced agency for your protagonist, and automatic legitimate reasons for your protagonist to join the whirlwind adventure of the day.

I like chosen ones. We all have our favorite famous chosen ones and I’m not here to say the concept of a chosen one is bad at all.

However.

Those “automatic” windfalls that come pre-packaged with the trope can lead to the author taking shortcuts, or not thinking they have to put in more effort to write a compelling character, because they’re the “chosen one,” what more do you need?

Not writing your protagonist as commanded by the powers that be to participate in the plot forces you to get creative with why they’re here, what they want, and how they entrench themselves in the story. And most importantly, if the gods haven’t chosen them to act, they must now choose themselves to act.

—

I have never read Harry Potter and after its author-who-shan’t-be-named flushed her reputation down the toilet, I never will. I’ve seen the movies, they’re ok. I have no nostalgia-driven love for this franchise, and most of that comes from watching Harry be an incredibly boring protagonist.

Book readers correct me, but Harry is the poster child of “only exists so the audience can live vicariously” with generic heroic traits and nonexistent or at least unimportant side quirks and distinguishing hobbies, interests, or personality tics. He’s “brave” and “courageous” and “determined”... as most child protagonists of children’s books should be. He has zero flaws that come back to bite him in the ass. He acts the way he’s supposed to, not the way he should want to, as an independent being.

He’s the least interesting character in this entire cast, and I can’t stand Movie Ron. Ron, Hermione, Neville, or Draco would have made much more compelling protagonists and so much of this relies on the “Harry is important because the plot demands it” crutch.

Why is he the chosen one? Because his birthday happened at the right time of year? What is the story trying to say about the dichotomy between him and Voldemort? What about his personality, his wizard-societal stances on the many faux pas in this series, or the choices he makes, that makes him the chosen one? Why should I care?

You know who’s a great chosen one? Percy Jackson. Why? Because he understands the screwed up world he lives in on page 1. Being a demigod isn’t everything he ever dreamed and despite what Disney + wants you to believe, he’s got a crap bio dad who’s as disappointing in book one as Percy expects him to be.

He’s not even the chosen one by the end of the original series, and what a fantastic twist that was.

An infamously self-chosen protagonist has her own iconic hero quote: "I volunteer as tribute". Katniss is a nobody. She's not the evil president's daughter, she's not the child of a famously martyred revolutionary, she's just a girl who refuses to bow down to the reaping, refuses to let her sister get slaughtered, and volunteers for a death match that historically sees anyone living to survive another year cowering in relief. Yeah, she has some convenient skills in her archery and survival knowledge, but those matter because her district is starving, she learned through necessity.

Every second of her story, Katniss is fighting for her right to exist, and she only becomes a "chosen one" dragged around by the powers that be when she becomes marketable to the grand scheming of the actual revolutionaries, when, before, she didn't care about politics, she just wanted to save her sister. She matters because she chose compassion in a world where survival demands only serving yourself.

—

It’s so, so easy to start planning your book and make your cool fantasy world and figure out how your protagonist fits into it. So easy to say “well they’re the long-lost princess and the only heir to the throne” or “this magic amulet from her great great aunt is the key to saving the world” or “she’s the villain’s secret love child and the only one who can stop him because blood magic” or “this vague prophecy picked this little desert slave boy to bring balance to the Force”.

None of these stories are at fault for writing chosen ones.

But push yourself to let go of that crutch and come up with other reasons for why your hero is the hero. Usually this character has been isekai'd into magical-fantasy-land or magical-hidden-fantasy-urban-underbelly and you can still write that character.

Refusing to make them the chosen one demands one thing first and foremost: How is this outsider going to fight for their place to exist here? What do they bring to the table with their hobbies or interests or unique skillset that happens to be mighty applicable and useful in this new world? What is it about their personality that draws these strangers in? What do they want from this new world, and what are they willing to do to get it?

This choice demands you give your hero agency (though whether you give into those demands is up to you).

More importantly: I think it gives your audience agency, as they still live vicariously through their hero. Sure, lots of kids have lost their parents and live in horrid conditions like a cupboard under the stairs, but none of us will ever be “chosen” by omniscient wizard prophets. Harry would have immediately been a more compelling protagonist to me if he’d stumbled upon magical shenaniganry and fought for his place as some forgotten nobody mudblood.

Harry would have shown us his courage, instead of the story insisting he has it, we promise, just don’t think too hard about it.

Stop giving me characters who accept their destiny because God said so. Give me characters who fight tooth and nail for a destiny they discover on their own and I’ll root for them to succeed even more than someone compelled by force. Not everyone can be a chosen one, but everyone *can* choose themselves and decide to act.

—

With that said, I have an announcement! I have a new book in the works bereft of a prophecy-ordained hero. It’s time I put all my sagely writing wisdom to the test in a shiny published paperback myself. If you’ve learned anything from my blog in your writing journey, please subscribe for updates on the upcoming novel!

[creedslove]

RE-ENCOUNTER 🎨

Marcus Pike x f!reader

"I'd rather get divorced while still loving you, than remaining together and risking to hate you"

Summary: you and Marcus had a brief but loving marriage, until it wasn't anymore. Choosing an amicable divorce you both moved on with your lives until destiny made you run into each other once more, with a difference this time: your ex-husband was engaged now

Warnings: mentions of divorce, a little bit of angst, fluff, some jealousy, age gap (their ages are not specified but he's 10 years older than her)

A/N: besties, I'm so happy I finally managed to write something for our husband Pike. I've always wanted to do so, but I knew I couldn't just force myself into it otherwise it wouldn't work properly, and just like that, this idea came up and I couldn't get it out of my mind ❤️ also, I know some people don't like age gap, but I can't imagine reader being Marcus age mostly because reader is me 🥴 and also because it would make sense to the story, so although it's not specified, I pictured them getting married around early 20s(reader) early 30s (Pike) and running into each other again around late 20s/early 30s (reader) and late 30s/early 40s (Pike)

3.9k words

You weren't fond of getting married young, to you, it sounded nothing like madness, as you simply couldn't wrap your head around the fact that people often abdicated from their lives, plans and dreams to get stuck in a relationship. It made no sense to you, especially since you had been working your ass off during all your years in college, the prospect of having a successful and promising career motivated you to go after your dreams. Relationships, marriages, building up families hadn't crossed your mind at all, a little affair with a cute guy here and there were the only things that ever got remotely close to dating, at the same time you only saw yourself as someone who wouldn't settle down.

And that was before Marcus Pike walked into your life.

If someone asked you to explain what exactly happened, perhaps you wouldn't be able to understand it yourself let alone explain it to someone, but that man swept you off your feet. You'd met him during a history of art lecture at campus one Thursday evening. He had just joined the FBI in the art department, fresh in his new job but still assisting his former professor and mentor in college lectures. He was probably ten or so years older than you, and yet, you couldn't keep your eyes off him. He was by far the most handsome man you'd seen in those four long years you'd spent in that institution, there was something so captivating in his beautiful eyes, his breathtaking smile and how smart and sweet he was towards anyone. And he caught you staring; it seemed you took his attention as much as he took yours, and even if you needed that lecture for extra credit, you couldn't give a single crap about medieval art, because that man was everything you could see in front of you. That was so unlike your personality, usually, you'd be focused on everything else, but you simply couldn't look away from that handsome assistant.

When the lecture was finally over, you were sure you'd missed at least half of it, being too busy concentrating on someone else instead of the subject, you still had a few doubts about the matter and you walked to the stage, willing to ask the professor some questions and clarify any doubts you had, and that was the moment you both locked eyes for the first time. The handsome guy that caught your attention, whose name was Marcus, soon found out the moment you shook hands and realized how big his was compared to yours and how truly handsome he was, even more so than you had already noticed when you were a few meters away. He was also mesmerized by you and he couldn't hide it, he knew you were younger than him, but at that moment all he could process was how gorgeous and smart that girl was in front of him. He kept around while you talked to his mentor, being polite enough not to interrupt him but holding himself back so he wouldn't add his own comments. He just wanted an excuse to talk to you, see if he could approach and see where things could go, so the moment he had the opportunity to be with you alone for a while, he immediately threw his charms - and Marcus was a charming guy - in your first conversation you liked how intelligent and nice he was, he made you laugh and when he invited you to have pancakes some dinner nearby the campus, you couldn't say no.

And that was the beginning of your love story.

Everything you believed went through the roof from the moment you met Marcus. He was incredible, the most fascinating man you'd met and whereas he was older than you, that only seemed to spice things up both in the sexual and emotional sense. You had never been treated like that before, he made you feel like a queen, as cheesy as it may sound, that's just how you felt through your relationship with Marcus. He was a gentleman, sweet and he didn't know what to do in order to please you; he went slowly at first, even if his intentions were clear from the very first time you went out to eat, he was a little afraid you would be weirded out by him, and he couldn't be further from the truth. Each time he took you out on a date, it felt like you were living the plot of any sweet but cliche rom com movie. It felt just too good to be true and a part of you feared that it wouldn't work. But it did, for as long as it lasted.

The dates with Marcus were so special, he was thoughtful and he always made sure to take you somewhere nice; it was either a nice restaurant so you could get to know their different menu, or art galleries in which he would show you his favorite works and tell you as much as you wanted to hear about them. He was always afraid of boring you with his subjects but on the contrary, you always enjoyed listening to him talk, it was entertaining, soothing and you could spend hours watching how his eyes sparkled whenever he addressed anything he truly enjoyed. And even if he put some effort into them, your favorite date by far was whenever you two would spend some time just hanging out together in his apartment. Dim lights, old movies on TV and Marcus' protective grip around your body, always pulling you closer and making sure you were warm in his embrace for the rest of the night.

The first kiss you shared with him after you both went to the movies together. It was a classic movie rerun and even if Casablanca wasn't your favorite, you knew he enjoyed it, and seeing it on a big screen was definitely a nice experience. Besides, he promised you that once Titanic hit the theaters in the next classic session, he would definitely take you.

At the end of the movie, you walked out the theater holding hands, you were silent, but instead of reflecting over the story you'd just watched you reflected over your relationship with Marcus; you were falling deeper and deeper for him, deeper and more intensely than you ever thought you would, and when he stopped and placed your hands on your hips you couldn't resist being kissed by him.

It felt right.

The first night you both spent together was right after he took you to see the concert of his former band; he'd left the band when he graduated from college, but he still remained friends with the guys and eventually enjoyed visiting them on stage. And that night he insisted on taking his bass for a last ride and even risked a song on the microphone, all of that for you.

By then, there was no fighting or convincing otherwise, you were head over heels for Marcus; especially when you two had sex for the first time after that. One could think Marcus is too soft, but not when it comes to that; he knows how to act, how to please and how to demand what he wants and after you tried him, a real man, there was no way you could go back to college boys ever again.

Your relationship evolved fast and in less than a year he proposed to you; he was sure you were what he wanted in the future, just as you had thrown away all your beliefs and you'd surrounded yourself completely to the man you loved, so you said yes. Even if your whole life you said you wouldn't get married, not while young at least, not without having a consistent, successful career.

And there you were, fresh out of college, with very little work experience, a job in an area you didn't want but had to take in order to gather experience and knowledge and walking down the aisle in a white dress, feeling as happy as you could be, in order to become Mrs.Pike. The honeymoon had to be in Paris, a few people told you that couldn't be more cliche, and even if they meant it out of spite or if they were actually right, it didn't really matter to you; it felt so right for the two of you. Surrounded by art constantly during the day and making love at night, it was like a dream coming true, and you remember hoping your entire marriage would be like that: light, fun, full of love and happiness. And it was until it wasn't anymore.

You couldn't tell exactly when things started to go downhill, but if you had to guess, it would probably be due to the lack of time you both faced towards the end of your relationship. It just started getting harder after about a year, when the two of you really began struggling for your own careers. You, in your area, and Marcus with the FBI, it seemed to have become an obsession for you both, as date nights, walks in the park and gallery visitations simply stopped happening in order to focus on your extra tasks, overtime, solving cases. At some point it became a looping of excuses and promises to spend more time together:

"We'll go next weekend honey"

"We can have dinner together tomorrow"

"I promise I'll take you with me next time"

Needless to say, they never truly happened.

Just as you two distanced yourselves without even realizing, the bickering also started, adding another venomous sting to your relationship. Suddenly, small things turned into bigger ones, sources of stress and fights; if someone ever told you one day you'd have heated arguments with Marcus over a dropped sock, or an unwashed plate on the sink, you would call them crazy, but when that unfortunately happened to the two of you, you were shocked for a while, not believing you had become the kind of couple to argue over stupid things like those. It was heartbreaking. As you two barely had time for each other, sex was also off the table most nights, being too tired to do anything else other than sleep, Marcus suddenly came up with the idea of having a baby; he had a deep hope of fixing your marriage by getting you pregnant, after all, having kids had always been part of his plan and he was sure it was part of yours too.

At the same time you hadn't really thought it through. Technically, you had. You wanted kids. At some point, in the future, it wasn't rocket science to figure that adding a baby to a troubled marriage could not be the best idea. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to tell him that, not when you saw the spike of excitement in his eyes, not when he held you and kissed you like in the beginning of your relationship, how he made time for you even if his FBI work was killing him, he still managed to bring you flowers, kiss you and made love to you. Perhaps he was trying to save your marriage, or he was just trying for the baby, you weren't so sure, but you could see the effort. And it was why it broke your heart to know you couldn't get pregnant at that moment, not with your job finally taking you places, the new opportunity of actually building a career and how young you still thought you were, being married was hard, but it was about you and Marcus, two adults who could handle yourselves but a baby? It was way too much responsibility. You couldn't find a way to tell him that, even if you were being a coward, it pained you you felt so hopeless to simply lie to Marcus and tell him you'd stopped taking your birth control pills, and even more so each time he looked at you with those disappointed, sad eyes, month after month of excitement and longing for that baby to be there, just to get a negative test after another. It was eating you up alive and after his insistence on taking you to a doctor - which you immediately refused - he managed to find your hidden stash of pills among your stuff. You tried explaining everything to him; how you weren't ready, you were scared and how broken you'd been at seeing him so upset. You cried, you opened your heart to Marcus and told him you wanted to be a mom to his child, some day, not at that moment, but in the future because things were finally working for the two of you once more. But you had lied to your husband, and lying to Marcus had no turning back.

He had no other option other than asking for a divorce after you lied and broke his heart, he felt upset, he could've forgiven you for many things, but not for playing with his heart when it came to the kids he dreamed of every single day.

You were tired, upset and at some point during your divorce process you'd convinced yourself you didn't love him anymore, but the reality was that you were just so empty you weren't able to feel things, you were numb.

The day you both signed the divorce papers in front of your lawyer and you were questioned whether you two wanted to go ahead with that decision, your heart shattered into a million pieces, more than any fights, when you heard Marcus' justification to why he was asking for the divorce.

"I'd rather get divorced while still loving you, than remaining together and risking to hate you"

When you heard those words, you had a sudden urge to get up and tear those papers into pieces, tell him you were both making a huge mistake, that toyover him and that you could make it work, you wanted to tell him you still had a beautiful future ahead of you, you and the gorgeous family you would have together. And the moment you took a deep breath to finally say all that out loud, you looked at Marcus signing the papers and officializing the divorce.

That was the last time you saw your ex-husband Marcus Pike, you just had no idea the next time you would run into him again would be in a few years later, while he was taking his new fiancee on a date.

•••

Marcus sighed as he could see the lack of excitement in Teresa's face the moment they got to the exhibit, he just didn't know why she agreed to go out with him if she didn't like it, it would be so much easier for the two of them if she was honest and told him she'd rather stay home and read a magazine, that way they would both be happy, and Marcus wouldn't have the feeling he was trying too hard all the time. Teresa liked him, she must have liked him, otherwise she wouldn't have accepted his proposal and moved to DC with him. It was still early, she'd been there for a few weeks but he was confident things would work. He was hitting his forties now, one divorce, no kids and even if he finally got the position he had not only dreamed of but also worked so hard for in his dream job, he still felt something was missing. It took him a failed marriage to realize that money wasn't everything he needed, he simply missed the family he never had.

When he found Teresa he was still trying to pick the pieces of his heart, still trying to make things work on his own and when he saw her - an attractive, mature and intelligent woman, he thought that maybe he wouldn't be alone this time. You'd been the love of his life, he was convinced of that, but you two had gone way too fast and too intense, you were still young, you had so much to live so it made sense to him he would let you go and be free. He vowed himself not to rush into things, but this time it wasn't his choice, he was liking Teresa more and more and even if they weren't compatible most of the time, but when the opportunity of a lifetime came up he had to take his chances and she'd said yes. Still a little unsure and divided between him and Jane, but she said yes.

As they walked through the exhibit, he paid close attention to all the beautiful paintings scattered around the long hallways. He loved that atmosphere, the pictures so beautifully made by talented hands years or sometimes centuries ago.

"So it's just flowers?!" Teresa broke the silence as she looked around unimpressed and dragged his attention back to reality

"It's not just flowers, it's Monet… don't you like it? You told me you liked his paintings on our first date.." Marcus stated confused until the realization that she was just lying so she wouldn't appear ignorant or perhaps try to impress him a little. He saw how she cleared her throat and tried fixing what she just said but he stopped listening the moment he caught a glimpse of someone else crossing the same room and standing next to Rouen Cathedral, admiring it intently. He didn't even need to look twice to know it was you. You, who always loved that painting, even if it wasn't Monet's best in your ex-husband's opinion, you who had a fascination with old constructions such as cathedrals and would always snap several pictures of them, you, who was never exceptional at art but managed to get by and eventually fell more and more in love with art because of Marcus, not because you wanted to impress him or have him thinking you were smart, but because he actually made you see why he had that passion for it. And the moment that you turned around, his heart skipped a beat.

You looked the same, and yet, you also managed to look even more beautiful; more mature, more confident in yourself and for a brief moment Marcus was frozen in time, it was just like the first time he saw you, in which he could only see you in front of him and nothing else. He had no idea you still had that effect on him, it was so unusual and surprising and even if he had stalked your social media profiles here and there over the course of your separation, even if he wasn't proud of it, it was completely different than seeing you right there in front of him. He wasn't sure what to do, should he approach you? Talk to you? Pretend he didn't see you?

However, he didn't time to think any further about it, not when you turned around and spotted him, your eyes widening at the moment you saw him. Much to your surprise your heart also raced at the sight of your ex-husband. Was it your mind playing tricks or was he even more handsome? You hadn't planned on approaching him, but you felt as if you were being taken involuntarily towards him.

"Marcus?! Hi!" You said with a sweet smile as he politely greeted you, expressing how surprised he was to see you and even more so to actually talk to you

"Wow, you look great… So beautiful" he smiled as you blushed softly and giggled

"You too, still very handsome… so what brings you to D-" you interrupted by a woman who walked in and wrapped her arm around his waist. She eyed you up and down, even if she still tried to be polite and discreet about it. You swallowed hard feeling awkward and Marcus turned to the other woman

"This is Teresa, my fiancee and this is my ex-wife" he cleared his throat as he said your name and Teresa simply nodded her head. You returned the gesture and the moment you meant to ask him a question she barged in

"You're his ex-wife? But you're so young…" you could see the light pink spreading through his cheek and groaned at how dumb she really was.

"Yeah, I'm younger than him… and are you a little older than Marcus?" You returned the sting with the same amount of poison and she scoffed, looking at him and groaned

"I'll go to the restroom" she said without looking into your eyes and walked away, making you chuckle as Marcus shot you a questioning look which you just shrugged and went back to the question that was lingering on your mind

"So, what are you doing here in DC? Having a romantic getaway or vacations?"

"Actually, I've moved here after I was promoted to the head of the new art department" he said with his typical smile and you could see how his eyes crinkled, your heart warming up as you expressed genuine surprise and happiness to know that. You were a witness to how hard he had worked for that and it just filled your heart with pride to know he made it. You weren't sure how to act, perhaps it wasn't right, but you had already wrapped your arms around his neck and given him probably the tightest hug you'd ever done. Even if it was brief, you couldn't help but feel how built up he was, how stronger he'd become and his characteristic scent made you so warm on the inside, it felt like you could've stayed forever in his embrace.

"I'm so happy for you, Marcus! Honestly, you deserve it! I know I haven't been the most supportive wife and I'm very sorry about everything that happened, I should've been nicer to you, but well, all I'm trying to say is that I'm so proud of you!"

You said wholeheartedly and even if there were so many other things you needed to tell him, you knew it wasn't the right time and place. He just smiled and nodded, taking your hands into his big ones and thanking you for the support.

"Do you think we could grab a coffee or something? Just catch up?"

"I'd love to, but I don't know if it's a good idea, I mean, I can tell Teresa isn't my biggest fan and being honest with you, I wouldn't like my fiance's ex-wife around very much, but it's amazing to see you Marcus, truly, it makes me glad to know you are somewhat closer" you smiled again but let go of his hands the moment Teresa returned. Once more she just lingered around him, almost territorial as if she wanted to show you who owned Marcus. He also felt that, and it made him quite uncomfortable, so he cleared his throat and looked at you, saying goodbye and explaining they had dinner reservations.

As you watched them both leave, you felt a pang in your chest, thinking of the wonderful place he was probably taking her, the elaborate dates he had planned, the beautiful family they would probably build together. It could've been you, it was you for a while, unlike he might have thought you wanted all that with him, but it took you a divorce to realize it was a situation of the right person, wrong time. Perhaps if you tried again, it would work, you would like it to work, but Marcus had moved on, found himself someone he cared about and you had no right to break his heart and ruin his happiness once more.

____

A/N: my besties, I really hope you enjoyed it! I don't know if this is just a one-shot or if there'll be a continuation but I am so happy how this turned out. I love Marcus and I'm so happy our handsome FBI boyfriend finally got his own piece here! ❤️ remember that feedback is life, I'd love to hear what you all thought of it ❤️

[zakumipink]

Attention.

The following may be misinterpreted or offend someone, but please know that is not the intention. I just want to make a point and kindly ask you to stop sending me the same advice... I'm not going to change my writing style to something "serious" or add more drama. I'm not going to change Sabo for Luffy, nor will I change Law for Ace or Lucci. I pair Law and Sabo. I have no problem with you liking Law/Luffy; Ace/Sabo; Lucci/Sabo or whatever. Nor that they only like to read about sex, smut, torture, violence, canonical plots, infidelity, abuse, etc... but I just want to do my silly comedies.

Please, friends, when I write fanfics I tend to exaggerate characteristics, traumas or events of the characters, but it is part of my creative freedom. I write alternate universes, I like comedy, silly romance, misunderstandings and cheesy clichés... I'm not looking for the canon, I want adventures and laughter, to have a good time.

The stories are also written as i like to read fanfics. I don't write them to be "literary works" or "gems of the fandom" they are just fanfics that I WANT TO READ. I write it because it amuses me, because it makes me happy. I don't want praise, insults or your complaints about why you don't think they're good... They're not good, they're crap. So what? Should I be offended? I'm not offended, because they make me happy and it's supposed to be a hobby. My hobby. Mine. I should like it, it should make me happy.

I never say anything about this, but I get tired of receiving bad vibes for something that shouldn't affect anyone on such a personal level... Nobody asked you to read, nobody forces you to see Law and Sabo as a couple. Take charge of your own shit, I'm not responsible for what you search for on the internet. Read my fanfics if you want, but pay attention to the tags.

And I'm just making this post to answer about eye color... I like that Sabo has blue eyes, even if in the anime they look grey, or in some covers they are gold. So also with Law, in some games his eyes are gold/brown and in the anime they look grey. I will use whatever color I want... until they officially decide on one. Because the vast majority of characters, inside One Piece, or get angry/surprised/scared have gray eyes. And most of the time they are just black dots like eyes.

Write your own fanfics, shove canon up your ass, and let me be happy with the altered reality where a lot of dumb stuff happens, like Law and Sabo adopting an alien baby or Doctor Law finding a mermaid Sabo, or where they are vampires, but not the typical vampire sexual gore, but a silly comedy with cheesy scenes and bloody kisses.

Please don't message me asking me to change fanfics to Law x Luffy either. I'M NOT INTERESTED. I don't care if it's the most popular couple or if a lot of people are going to read this... I already explained that this is my hobby and therefore it is ME who should be made happy. There are thousands of Law and Luffy fanfics, just click on one and that's it.

So? Nothing. Let me write what i want.

[elasticitymudflap]

you think your boy Simon is gonna come back for season 2 or is he all arced out?

LISTEN *GRIPS U* SORRY IM ALL CAPS IM JUST BEING VERY NORMAL RN

SEASON 1 WAS BASICALLY ABOUT GETTING HIM TO THE POINT WHERE HE WAS SIMPLY NO LONGER LOOKING FOR AN EXCUSE TO THROW HIS LIFE AWAY, AND RECOGNIZING/NOT ROMANTICIZING THE CONCEPT OF SACRIFICE IN HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH BETTY BECAUSE OF HOW DISPROPORTIONALLY SHE SACRIFICED HERSELF FOR HIM IN WAYS HE WASN'T COGNIZANT OF.

IMHO:

SEASON 1 BARELY TOUCHED UPON ADDRESSING OR WORKING THROUGH HIS ICE KING TRAUMA. THIS IS MY FIRST MAIN THING I NEED THEM TO TOUCH UPON.

IT CONCERNS ME THAT SIMON DIDN'T EVEN COMPLETELY CONNECT THE DOTS IN THAT ALL THE CRAP WORLDS THEY WENT TO WERE HINGING ON WHO HE IS AND THE IMPACT HIS LOVE AND SACRIFICE (OR THE LACK THEREOF) HAD ON THE WORLD (DID SORT OF FOR A MOMENT IN THE STAR BUT NOT NEARLY ENOUGH IMO)

HE'S OBVIOUSLY STILL PROCESSING HIS YEARS TAKING CARE OF MARCY IN THE APOCALYPSE???? THERE WAS NO FOLLOW-UP WITH HER PHONECALL EVEN IN THE FINAL MONTAGE???? WHAT HAPPENED IN OOO WHEN HE DISAPPEARED??? THESE TWO NEED TO FUCKING TALK FOR REAL

WHAT DOES SIMON'S LIFE LOOK LIKE WHEN HE'S NO LONGER AN EXHIBIT?? HOW THE HELL DID HE BECOME/CONSENT TO BECOMING AN EXHIBIT IN THE FIRST PLACE I MEAN WHAT THE FUCK?? HOW DID HIS LIFE CHANGE SO DRASTICALLY (OR DID IT NOT) FROM OBSIDIAN??

THE MORAL OF "MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE GONE ON THAT TRIP TO AUSTRALIA INSTEAD / WHO KNOWS WHAT LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE" IS SO BAD FOR HIM TO END CONCLUSIVELY ON AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE SEEN BECAUSE THE WORLD STILL FUCKING ENDED??? MAYBE HE FOUND THE CROWN, MAYBE HE DIDN'T, BUT EITHER WAY FROM WHAT WE SAW IN THE ALT WORLDS IT WAS ALL GOING TO END IN TRAGEDY AND MAYBE THIS IS THE ONLY WORLD WHERE WE GET A BITTERSWEET END INSTEAD OF A HELL WORLD THANKS TO THEIR DESICIONS??? IDK!!!!!! I'D LIKE TO EXPLORE THAT CONCEPT I THINK

THE UNIVERSE IS OUT OF HIS NOODLE, BUT DOES SIMON'S HEAD-PORTAL STILL WORK?? CAN HE CONNECT TO FIONNA WORLD IF HE'S IN HIGHLY CHARGED MAGICAL ENVIRONMENTS??? ACTUALLY, WHAT THE HELL ARE THE LONG TERM EFFECTS OF A HUMAN HAVING A UNIVERSE IN HIS DANG HEAD

HE'S CONNECTING WITH ASTRID NOW AND SEEMS TO BE ON MUCH BETTER TERMS, IS SHE GOING TO INSPIRE HIM TO START WRITING FIONNA AND CAKE STORIES AGAIN TO COPE IN A HEALTHY WAY WITH HIS PAST THIS TIME??

SIMON'S RELATIONSHIP WITH ICE THING???

SIMON'S HUMAN PAST IN GENERAL: WHY IS THIS DUDE THE WAY HE IS??? WHY DID HE BELIEVE THE THINGS HE DID, STUDY THEM, MAKE THEM THE THINGS HE HINGED HIS LIFE AND CAREER ON???

ON THAT NOTE: FLASHBACKS. MOTHER FUCKING FLASHBACKS. MORE OF HIS ADVENTURES WITH BETTY. WE ACTUALLY SEE SO LITTLE OF WHAT THEY WERE LIKE TOGETHER WHEN ACTUALLY HAPPY, HUMAN, AND IN A RELATIONSHIP TOGETHER, IN THEIR ELEMENT, AND NOT STRICKEN WITH LIFE-OR-DEATH DESICION MAKING EXCEPT FOR HIS DUMB ASS GETTING BRAINED BY A CHERRY JAR

HIS YEARNING TO FIND BETTY AND APOLOGIZE TO HER WAS "TECHNICALLY" HANDLED IN THE SHOW, BUT YOU CAN NOT TELL ME THIS DUDE DOESN'T HAVE LASTING ISSUES AND TRAUMA AROUND THAT. ABOUT THE FIRST TIME HE PUT ON THE CROWN AND BETTY DISAPPEARING FOREVER. ABOUT THE GUILT AND FEAR ABOUT HER BEING DEAD DURING THE WAR. ABOUT LIVING NINE FUCKING HUMAN LIFETIMES IN A HAZE WHERE ALL HE KNEW WAS HE HURT THE PERSON HE LOVED MOST AND HE JUST NEEDED TO FIND HER. IT BECAME AN INTEGRAL PART OF ICE KING'S CHARACTER, HIS MOST DEFINING TRAIT STRIPPED TO THE STUDS. HE HELD ONTO THAT LAST PIECE OF SIMON PETRIKOV SOME HOW UNTIL SO MUCH TIME HAD PASSED HIS ONLY HOPE TO EVER FIND HER AGAIN WAS TO USE TIME TRAVEL. I'D LIKE SOME MORE OF THAT, IF YOU PLEASE.

HOW IS HE ACTUALLY COPING POST-SEASON 1? WHAT ARE HIS THOUGHTS ON ALL THE WORLDS THEY VISITED, THE THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO HIM, THE IMPLICATIONS, HIS INTERPRETATIONS? HE MAY BE IN THERAPY BUT HE'S STILL DRINKING.

ANYWAY

[itsscromp]

Could I ask for Jason with a kid reader who sort of just follows him around when he's on patrol? And the reason why is because he saved their sister once and so they're grateful and are building up the courage to give him a gift! Something like a drawing

Jason Todd/Red Hood x reader

OOOOOH an interesting idea anon, Honestly I've been itching to write some more Jason again so I thank you for helping me :D. Word count:746

You've had it in your pocket for almost two weeks now, You needed to find him. He had to be around here somewhere. The story is, Red Hood saved your sister who worked in the diner when it was getting raided by some of the freaks gang. He took them all out so fast, Your sister seeing the whole thing and told you.

You had to do something to thank him, so you decided to make him a drawing of the whole fight, Including a few of your own twists with it like adding "Just another day of kicking butt in Gotham" as a comic bubble for red hood.

But now was the bigger issue of finding him, You didn't know where he was. He was always on the move trying to find the next bit of trouble. So every night for the next two weeks. You got out on your bike and tried to find him.

"He's gotta be here I know it" You said to yourself as you stared at your drawing one last time, you then got on your bike and rode through Gotham City.

Reaching the Financial district, you saw more freaks as they were causing destruction and mayhem. You tried to ride away but one then saw you as you tried to get away.

"Stop the kid !!!!" They shouted as you tried to pedal faster, but their brute then stopped you dead in your tracks, knocking you off your bike.

"Please don't hurt me !!" You pleaded them.

"This ain't gonna cut it, kid. Hand over everything you got !!!" They picked you up by your collar and stared at you menacingly.

"Let the kid go !!!" A voice said in the distance.

"Oh crap it's red hood !!"

You saw him as he approached the brute, he was here to save you.

"Don't worry kid your safe now" He reassured you as he then looked at the brute.

"I ain't gonna repeat it muscle head, let the kid go !!"

He smirked as he then dropped you and turned to red hood.

"Oh yeah ??, what are you gonna do about it dumb hood ??" He then charged at him while he quickly dodged him and shot him with his non-lethal bullet.

It turned into a huge brawl as you ran for safety, Watching on as you saw Red Hood kicking the freak's asses, Wow he was amazing at fighting. He fought them all off like it was nothing, Probably not even breaking a sweat.

When it was all over, All of them defeated, He looked around, Hoping you were safe. "Kid ?? Where are you ??" He looked for you worriedly.

You then slowly emerged as you went up to him. "I'm ok... Thank you"

"What were you doing here on your own ??, It's too dangerous to be out here"

"I... I was looking for you for the past two weeks" you looked at the ground sheepishly.

He tilted his head slightly in confusion. "Why were you looking for me ??"

"You saved my sister at the Gotham Diner two weeks ago, She told me how you saved her and fought off the freaks, I... I wanted to give you something to thank you."

He walked up to you and kneeled to your height as you pulled out of your pocket the drawing. He unfolded and saw your amazing creation, The eyes on his mask creasing, Indicating he was smiling under it.

"Looks like we got ourselves a little Gotham Picasso, What's your name kid ??"

"Y/n, My sister's name was S/n"

"Yeah, I remember S/n, Tell your sister that I was glad to be able to help ok y/n ??"

"I promise red hood"

He smiled again and ruffled your hair.

"Thank you for this, I really like it"

You smiled brightly and quickly gave him a big hug before you then rode back home.

"Stay safe Red Hood!!!" You shouted before you peddled quickly back home.

It was times like these when Jason remembers why he does what he does, He gives people in this city hope, a light to look up too. No matter how dark it got.

He held onto the drawing for the remainder of his patrol and when he got back to the belfry at the crack of dawn. He then hanged it on his wall. Always going to it whenever he feels down. It made him smile every damn time.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[luna-rainbow]

What if S2E05

Ew. Genuinely do not recommend watching, purely from a writing point of view. It feels like I've just watched someone wanking off to themselves and walked away covered in goo.

I'm just saying 90% of the fanfics on AO3 is less stomach-churning than this crap.

Cut for language.

This episode starts off with just...the most wankerish introduction ever from The Watcher. What is this, 6th grade creative writing? His speech was basically "the bestest Mary Sue to ever Mary Sue is to Mary Sue in this upcoming Mary Sue episode! Did I tell you she's a Mary Sue?"

They really just...cut Sam out of his first and major appearance in the MCU. I mean...between Sam's glaring omission and somehow having the lead Widow antagonist (other than Melina) being a Black woman, in an episode featuring Ms Brexit...I'm not saying you should join the dots but the dots be damn there.

How come she gets to yell at Fury and Nat for hiding Steve from her but everyone is pretending that Steve would be fine with Peggy never telling him about Bucky. The math ain't mathing.

Fury tells her to sit out of the fight and Peggy whirls on him with the most possessive Karen snarl, "I'm Peggy Carter and we're talking about ~Steve Rogers~" Just. EW.

Steve literally has no personality or character beyond "UwU I just wanna be your lover~" the whole way, which. The writing was just not good enough to carry off and it just comes across like a juvenile self-insert fanfic.

OH FFS Not only is she stealing this whole Winter Soldier storyline she gotta steal NAT'S MOVES of beating up the Winter Soldier just FOR FUCK'S SAKE GET YOUR OWN PLOT WOMAN.

"Even in Russia girls grow up dreaming of being Captain Carter."

EWW WHY???

I can't believe this script got greenlit. She's the best she's flawless she's got a perfect love story and everyone wanna be her! Without showing you anything that proves that.

Pffft the shield dropping and the sob story (which Steve fanfic did they lift that monologue from because it sounds awfully familiar). At least they didn't try pulling the end of the line.

Oh and Steve saves her ass at the end of the day.

So not only is she a Mary Sue, she's a Mary Sue who still fucking needs a man to finish off her job. Like. This is the dumbest kind of story telling.

Sebastian doing an old man voice was the much needed breath of fresh air in this episode until I remember that it was probably a trial run for his Trump voice.

*Scrubs brain*

BTW Bucky clearly was not a morally corrupt character like Pierce and I guess...no shit, he wasn't the one who used Operation Paperclip to recruit Zola into the organisation, but I'm not sure the general audience would make that distinction.

[s0ap-bubbles]

Mk1 stays pissing me off so I’m gonna violently suggest things Dominik can do better in the future

(Under the cut so anyone who doesn’t wanna read it isn’t subjected to a petty teenager ranting lol)

1. Stop being a pussy and write some gay people properly. No more ancient rules bull crap that makes it impossible for them to be affectionate to each other.

2. I don’t know what the fuck you’re on Dominik, but why are you constantly creating random ass ships that were never hinted at or asked for. If there’s no build up, why should I care???

3. Learn how to use the multiverse concept effectively, cus the way you use it now is absolute dog shit. You’re telling me that every character from every mk game has their own timeline? EXPLORE THAT. Don’t just give me “liu kang but evil” cus we got that with the revenants, expand on what changed depending on the timeline he’s from.

4. Bros never heard of show not tell or something cus why is everything cool happening off screen, including now rain’s redemption??? Are you actually fucking stupid??? you had a whole dlc to expand on the things they talk about in the intro and you chose “hehehe havik universe so crazy look at Mohawks”

5. I get this is a new universe but bro. if you’re using iconic characters, at least respect their fucking origins. I’m aiming this at the absolute shit show that is the new bi-han cus there’s is no way you just made him comically evil and called it a day, then set up a redemption in the dlc, and then just made him a bigger bitch than before. Also the way you pushed kitana aside and reduced her to mileena’s cheerleader/support system was so shit as well. The only reason I bring this up is because kitana was leading a whole rebellion and becoming Kahn in the last game, and now you have her going “sister, please don’t do that… empress, please don’t kill them…” like…

6. I am BEGGING YOU. To stop writing Johnny cage like a mcu character I don’t think I can take it any longer fake laughing at his shitty quips. I love Johnny cage but oh my god he’s just been reduced to “funny reference man” and nothing else. Like there is no way he made a game of thrones reference during a literally deadly attack where multiple people had just been killed.

7. Your references suck, you suck, I hate you. Having characters reference other characters who aren’t in the game was cool until I realised that that’s all it is. A reference. These characters aren’t going to be in the game as dlc or anything going by the OBSCENE amount of guest characters, so who gives a fuck.

8. I’m just being petty now but Jesus Christ I hate how you wrote the new era. It’s a cool ass concept, but the way you wrote it was so shit, that I can’t even defend it atp. Change is a natural and necessary thing, but if this is your second time rebooting your franchise NRS and people STILL get mad over the story, I think it’s time to really look at what made the franchise special, and not try to replicate it, but put your own spin on it, make something new that still connects with your fans.

9. RESIGN. PLEASE.

[bahja-blix]

😐💀Longish Post regarding Vivziepops Stans (POC Woman Speaks up)

TW: The following post mentions serious topics: S*icide, bullying, racism, and other topics, viewer discretion is advised (and No I do not know whom originally sat here and typed this post I don't want to know)

So I saw this image floating around and I as a Bisexual biracial Woman of color wanted to speak up about this because if y'all think it's hilarious or cool to say dumb shit on the Internet and not expect to get called out for your crap by reasonable people that you yourself put yourself out there for then your dead wrong.

Let's take a look amigos

Let's start from the beginning

This person who's an obvious biased boot licker who deliberately put themselves out there on the Internet ON PURPOSE said all of This!

Here's some things I completely disagree with because in their own words:

"You probably heard over and over again that Viv is a terrible person who's toxic that made all kinds of terrible things in the past but I assure you, (even if it's true) these stories are all "completely fake" and "made up" and that Viv is "flawed" and makes mistakes like all of us and that she "doesn't deserve" the "hate" and "bad faith" comments"

"I have decided to "fund" the "StopVivziepophate" train because poor ol Viv is sweet and innocent and we as fandom must stick it to these "critics" and express to vivziepop our eternal love and "actively convince" people (without any proof btw) that Vivziepop has done absolutely "nothing wrong" at all and we must defend her to the ends of the Earth because I said so and thats the Truth. You guys are liars and bigots and racist and are anti progressive"

Vivziepop has proved Time and Time again that she's a deliberately toxic shitty ass dumbass of person and has gotten much WORSE over the years! That is a FACT! She HAS made shitty, questionable, nasty things in her past artworks depicting minors, Nazi shit, racist shit and other stuff! This is a FACT and can be proven!

These Critical people on the Internet are All people who Used to LOOK UP to Viv because she was inspirational, saw right through her bullshit, and decided to call her out For said bullshit that she inflicted on herself especially nowadays seemingly on the daily. These Critical people who used to look up to Viv often back up their claims using pictures and evidence to Prove what they say! Vivziepop is a person who has proven that she is ass backwards on an absolute altitude of ways through thick and thin.

Viv refuses to back up her claims, do basic research on complicated topics regarding many things, weaponizes her fanbase to silence Anyone and Everyone regardless of who they are or what they identify as who speaks up or validly critiques her foolishness, never improves on herself as a person and chooses to carry herself in a negative way that affects her overall character and the people around her, bullies or judges anyone who chooses a different path, didn't call out her cult of a fanbase out for bullying Shay into suicide, and the list goes on.

What are you Stans going to prove huh? That we as a critical are right? There's an abundance of evidence against Viv yet your going to sit here and make a post like this?

Please tell me what you said is Bait!

Viv absolutely deserves EVERYTHING that people throw at her ESPECIALLY regarding the fact that Shay is no longer with us because Vivziepops cult of a fanbase brutally bullied Shay into s*icide over a fictional ship that these hypocritical Stans supported Before their new ship with Alastor came out with a different character

And Viv also absolutely deserves to be criticized for hiring a disgusting person with a r*pe fetish who's NOT a s*xual assault victim at All who also fetishizes r*pe and let this person illustrate and write their own sick fantasies into HER SHOW which she actively supported and still supports!

She's Shit All Around!

lastly...

"Most" of the "hate" comes from the "fact" that she's both *Checks notes* 🧐 "inserts identity politics here"

"Woman and Hispanic" ahh yes who Could've thought that poor ol Viv was being targeted simply because of her identity! Why as if I didn't hear that BS before as a fucking POC woman myself

People are "totally not" validly criticizing her for actual shit she does to herself on purpose

We critics are "totally" all just "making up" shit regardless of clear as day evidence, articles, or any picture evidence we have and are "totally jealous" over her success

We critics totally dunk on Viv because we're magically all racist, bigots, or istaphobes even though we're of varying backgrounds and identities and don't dunk on her for the bullshit you pulled out your ass because you decided to do what some far left thinking people would do. Blame the entire world for X, Y, Z using their identity as a shield even though vivziepop herself got caught! BY HER OWN POLITICAL PARTY which is the left.

Let me bring up a successful Black YouTuber who's indie for Black History Month whom I support and followed for years and bought his comics! Since you wanna blame the world for people criticizing Viv for her identity, I've decided to use an excellent example! He may not be a woman but he's Black so... :D let's begin

You wanna know who's Black and made millions of dollars because of his comics and is successful? Youngrippa59! Yes the Black Libertarian himself who made the Rippaverse, ISOM, and ALPHA CORE and made millions of dollars in short periods of time who also helped successfully dominated the comic book industry when it was dying! He's Not a conservative btw!

Heres one of his most recent successful projects ALPHACORE

Look at this! A Black person made this! He's successful! He didn't use his race as a shield. He ain't Viv but doesn't have to be! That's the beauty of him because he doesn't have to be the richest, or the most popular!

His message to everyone! Mr. Rippa also known as Eric July is one of my biggest inspirations to this day and this is why! People who were on the far left decided to attack him (it's been proven btw) but y'all say your for "diversity" and "inclusion" but when a black person becomes successful now it's an issue???

I Can't imagine what will fly outta your mouths when I become successful with my own shows behind the scenes... As diverse as I am as a biracial, bisexual, goth, God damn X, Y, Z, I Don't pander, I observe what everyone wants through multiple people!

Now,

Vivziepop is a woman who's a biracial Hispanic! I am ALSO a woman who's a biracial Hispanic

As a biracial Hispanic I'm more Puerto Rican looking IRL. Viv is a biracial Salvadoran Hispanic but looks more "white" because maybe she has more European family members. My family is made up of mainly Puerto Ricans on both sides of the family some European. I have dark eyes and dark naturally curly hair too. Few have said I can pass as "Indigenous" because of my features and tanned skin. Regardless my point still stands! I don't actively use my identity as a shield and neither should you!

I don't want to know who sat here and typed up that post! I as a woman of color of the brown community am still sick of this! Like who's saying they hate Viv because she's Hispanic? Huh? Who? Who's dunking on her for simply being a woman too???

Prove to me by providing solid concrete evidence by pictures or tweets or something else actually showing me people are dunking on Viv because she's both "Woman/Hispanic"! Well I tell you now that that shit Doesn't happen and if it does, it's a VERY SMALL minority that are saying shit for bait reasons or to be an asshole on purpose to get a reaction. The fact this person decided to say "Most hate comes from her race and being a woman" is BS because they cant even take the time to dig up evidence of this to prove it!

Show don't tell not TELL DONT SHOW goddamnit!

Legit you wanna play the race x woman card so badly then BACK IT UP with actual evidence or someone like me with more than two functioning brain cells will call you out.

I'm sorry but I agree with the critics on this one because they're not wrong for calling Viv out!

[iphoenixrising]

Do you feel better now?

Hi babe.

Things...are what they are lol. I am getting better slowly but surely. I'm still holding out on Fracture main and Dead Birds.

One of my babes, @chippon finally persuaded me to release most of the fics back in the wild, so you can give them a shoutout for being supportive as fuck and reminding me why I started writing in a fandom in the first place. I mean, it's because of you all and how supported I felt writing more.

But No home for dead birds kind of made me pause a bit because some people made me realize the underage aspect of that fic didn't age well. As angsty and cathartic as it is, Tim is very very young when he started a relationship with Dick, so once I thought about it a bit, I realized some of those stories might not be something I want out there in the world. The intent was good but the execution lacking I suppose. It's in the fic pile on Ao3 so it's there if anyone wants to read it again, but the standalone, I dunno. I just dunno what to do with it tbh. Maybe make a poll?

Fracture tho has so many unread comments, I feel like ass putting it back out there when I haven't even approved those comments on the fic :sigh.

Tho. Tho.

It has been a very long time since I really paid much attention to the kudos and such on my Ao3 so when I let those fics out to breathe, I was ah, really shocked at how many kudos Dr!Tim has! Like, holy crap babe!

[lo-shouldve-been-an-email]

Okay,since I’ve just randomly randomly just reblogging Thanatos things,I decided to actually post things,more specifically an LO rewrite because f it.

At its core I do think LO is a good story,just that bad writing has squandered any potential it has to be good,so please have my take on this.(more specifically my take on Persephone,hades,and Thanatos because I have to stay on brand)

Anyways-

(The sequel)

Persephone:

She’s older.shes physically in her late 20’s/early 30’s and about seven to eight centuries older.

Her AoW only extended to those ransacking the garden.(I swear,it would have been so much more understandable to root for her if it only extended to 4-5 people instead of an ENTIRE CITY,since we know other gods have done much worse)

Her work in the underworld was mandated by Zeus as community service for the AoW.

This is more or less Zeus hitting two birds with one stone,he gets perse to make community service and maybe(hopefully) gets hades to open up to the smucks outside of the underworld because he now has an employee not from there.

Due to her guilt about the AoW,she decides that while she’s working in the underworld she’ll set out to be the best her she can be and make up for the souls she took.

At first nobody really likes her and they just think she’s someone who needed to be dragged here by Zeus and won’t amount to anything,but she ends up being the hardest working of the staff and getting a fairly infamous “employee of the month” streak,her only real fumble being Sisyphus(of which she rightfully corrected totally not being getting Hermes to drag his ass down back to the underworld and give his his infamous punishment,of which instantly gave her back any respect she lost.

She’s the type of person you think you can disrespect until she gets genuinely mad at someone,in which case everyone goes out of their way to be nice to her even though it takes a lot to get her mad.

Demeter never sheltered her,just that she heard from her mother and brother(oh yeah Plutus is in this au their twins) about the shit that happened up their(even saw it for herself a few times)and decided to nope out of that drama.

She likes the underworld a more than Olympus due to the fact people don’t get butthurt nearly as much,due to them needing to deal with crap from other gods and sometimes mortals(like Sisyphus)

Demeter was an amazing mama and nobody can convince me otherwise.

Plutus told her about the underworld so she does know a bit,but otherwise it’s a cultural shock.

She brings homemade baklava in every day of work.

She actually sent a letter to Demeter telling her about the community service…however she never got it thanks to a certain daughter of Nyx always dead set on causing discord.

Hades:

It took him two solid seconds to realize what Zeus’ plan was with Persephone so he initially looked for any reason to fire her,until he learned she was here for community service and just decided to wait out her punishment(jokes on him Zeus forgot to tell perse what her sentence was so she worked in the underworld for like a year until demeter found her when in reality she was supposed to be there for like two months)

He does eventually soften up to her(obviously) but it takes a while and a lot of baklava.

Honest to god I have no idea how to incorporate minthe in this au

Leuce is his dead wife,she died fairly recently so he’s still hesitant to connect with anyone.(“I miss my wife,Thanatos,I miss her a lot I’ll be back-“)

Recently he’s been coping via sinking into his work,Hecate and the others have taken notice but they don’t really know what to do.(their the ones that CAUSE death not deal with it)

He slowly started distancing himself from the rest of his family after the titanomachy and even more so after leuce died.

The only person he acts openly soft around is Thanatos,who he views as a son.

The only part of his extended family he interacts with is Hermes,who he actually has a really good relationship with(albeit still strained since leuce)

Fuck it.everyone has flowers symbolism.

Hades is white lilies(subject to change),perse is asphodels,thanatos(and Hypnos) is poppies,leuce is forget-me-nots,Demeter is daylilies,Plutus is orchids,Hecate is nightshades or cow parsley.

Thanatos:

He genuinely finds it hard to focus on doing his job,so people just call him lazy,so he doesn’t really try to set the bar high in return because he knows he’ll just end up disappointing everyone.

The only person who doesn’t have low expectations and wants him to try his best at his own rate is hades,who understands he finds it hard to focus but still wants him to try his best anyways.

Rotates between living with hades and Nyx(who is an extremely doting mother.

Hypnos still resides within the hr department and Thanatos helps him hide because the last thing he needs is a grumpy Hypnos.

He deals with peaceful deaths while Hermes and the keres deal with the rest.

He’s the type of person to tell himself one moment he’s gonna be really productive today and then spend the next fifteen minutes chatting away with a butterfly.

Also he can talk to butterflies.but nobody believes him except Hermes,perse,and Nyx.

The moment he finds out what Eris did she gets the “WHY WOULD YOU THINK THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?!?!!?” Of her life.then queue Thanatos and the other Nyx children present trying to get her to explain why she thought this was a good idea and her just saying “bc it’s funny”

Erebus = dad with no physical body who still interact with me via shadows.hades = dad with physical body who I want to impress but I don’t know how.

(If you didn’t catch on he has adhd)