#doesn't mean i think i could totally do as good a job or better at writing than everyone else at idw1

[lord-squiggletits]

hi!!

I do actually have a question about IDW1 Optimus Prime for you... it may be a weird one, but still. So. If you were an IDW writer, what would your OP be like? I mean, if you had that chance to make your vision, you know, officially canon? Would you change something, or create something new?

And thanks for all your works, those are amazing

Tbh that's a little bit of a tough question? Because the way I interpret your question, I think of it in a couple different ways like: If I were a writer at IDW during the IDW1 run, what would I have done? Or if I were just given an opportunity to add an OP-centric story? Or if I were completely starting/writing for a completely different continuity? It's truly not as simple as just me writing whatever my own vision is, because my understanding of IDW1 in particular is it was a very collaborative effort with writers and editors (iirc Barber wrote his own series as well as being the editor for JRO's stuff and possibly others, for example).

I guess if I were an IDW writer and got to write an Optimus-centric story, I would've preferred that his post-war story be more focused on Cybertron and Cybertronian politics. It's not that I don't like the Earth story (in fact, I think I'm one of the only people who cares about humans in the story and thought the Earth plot was fun), it's just that the plot is so contrived and full of mess/unrealized potential that I would probably scrap everything except a few bare bones things and start fresh. ANYWAYS.

TLDR: If I'd gotten to write for the IDW continuity, I'd have 1. focused more on Cybertronian politics and 2. set up a rivals-to-friends/foil relationship between Optimus and Pyra Magna

I would've liked to see an Optimus-centric story that focused on Cybertron's politics instead, especially with his efforts to create post-war peace and arbitrate issues between Autobots and Decepticons. I really enjoyed the Punishment story which showed the pitiful state of the Decepticons (mostly jobless, everyone sees them just as fighters and criminals, pushed to slums on the outside of the city) and how it was an Autobot who was going around murdering Decepticons based on his own sense of vigilante justice. I really liked that story because it showed how Optimus' ideals of post-war conciliation clashed so much against reality, the way that not everyone is as willing/able to move on as he is. I think more stories where Optimus specifically works to resolve Autobot-Decepticon differences while also trying to deal with Starscream's shitty behavior and getting involved in politics and Primacy shit with the colonists would've been great. Because I mean, Megatron isn't here to give a shit about his Decepticons being in slums, so if someone is going to help them it might as well be Optimus.

I also really enjoyed the parts of various stories like the Autocracy trilogy and Death of Optimus Prime that showed how neutral Cybertronians only saw his legacy with Zeta and/or the 4 million year war. Those are very real positions for members of their species to take: not trusting Optimus to be anything more than another corrupt Prime, or hating him because of his involvement in the war that painted their species as all bloodthirsty warriors and led to mechanical species being persecuted to some degree. I feel like a story focusing on the politics of Cybertron would've been a way better way to criticize Optimus than the weird crap that became canon (Optimus being equated to Megatron for the annexation of Earth which only happened because of tricky politics and to get more resources to avert another invasion, being framed as 'going too far' by killing Galvatron, and some other stuff I don't care to get into). And I feel like a story focused on Autobot-Decepticon social conflicts post-war, and the division between the war faction mechs and neutral non-combatant mechs, and the different cultures of all the colonies, would've fit in better with all the pre-war lore brought in by MTMTE/LL. MTMTE/LL would've given us a lot of pre-war lore that would've then given more context to how and why people see Optimus the way they do in the present on Cybertron. There would've also been more chances to show Decepticons as sympathetic characters suffering from a similar systemic discrimination as they did before the war. I mean, there ARE sympathetic Decepticons, but there's not as many as there could've been IMO.

I also would've set up Pyra Magna as a more fleshed out rival/foil to Optimus. Canon gave us fucking nothing, man. Pyra and Optimus met, Pyra (as Victorion) made Optimus admit that he doesn't believe in the Primacy and doesn't think there's anything good in that legacy, Pyra is like "you know nothing and you're a shit Prime, I can try to teach you something though".......... and then Pyra Magna and Optimus literally never talk about anything except tactics and Pyra is only there in the background to punch people, until OP when all the sudden she's bitching at Optimus for manipulating people and being "unteachable" when she never fuckin taught him anything??? Maybe Optimus wouldn't have been like that if Pyra had actually had character interactions like the story SET HER UP TO HAVE, but I guess Barber just really wanted to have another person scream at Optimus about how much he sucks.

I would've liked to see Pyra and Optimus butting heads over the issue of the Primacy and having a lot of cultural clashes because of the separate histories of their planets. Because clearly Pyra Magna is offended by Optimus viewing the Primacy as nothing more than a tool, but she came from a planet where Primes were venerated as gods so of course she's offended by Optimus' secular position. Optimus grew up on a planet where the legacy of the Primes was corruption and oppression and genocide/colonization of organics, so of course he's really jaded about the Primacy and thinks that it's nothing more than a corrupted mantle that he's trying to clean up by being as good of a leader/person as he can be.

It would've been nice for Optimus to have a genuinely spiritual person as his critic/advisor and eventual supporter/friend who could try to alleviate Optimus' cynicism about the Primacy and maybe teach him more about the history of the Primes and the spiritual importance of his job from her perspective. While simultaneously, Optimus could talk to her about the burden of leadership and how his position is tied so much in warfare and corrupt legacies, and Pyra Magna would come to see Optimus with more empathy as a person who's suffering under the burden of trying to be a good Prime and questioning whether it's even worth it. I really would've loved to see Pyra and Optimus having some sort of rivals-to-friends dynamic in that regard. Pyra could've been a little bit like Windblade, providing Optimus with advice on the culture and politics of Caminus (and other colonies) but with a firmer and more aggressive style that Windblade doesn't have (and Windblade would be busy doing politics, herself). Just UGH Pyra Magna was so fucking interesting the way she was first introduced in canon. Also she's so fucking sexyyyyyy why did Barber have to do her dirty by giving her basically 0 meaningful purpose in the story for all of exRID.

[sevsgiirl]

Omg okay I can't stop thinking about needy lovesick Sevika with a younger femme partner (you can totally do a continuation of the fic you wrote) so what if, she's a little needy&insecure for their age gap? That her girl gets bored/annoyed with her? (She doesn't have this type of thoughts all the time, but the seeds of doubts grows when she hears other people talk, not directly about her and reader, but in general but it does linger when others points out how different they are) or in her own way, she start craving more compliments, affections from her but dunno how to do it and at the same time she's trying to gauce if her girl still likes her (she does!!) yet just the thoughts/doubts hurts Sevika like so bad, because she would do anything for her darling, what she has to do to make her girl still love her and not leave her?

— sevika with a younger partner and feeling insecure

synopsis: sevika doesn’t have a type. whether they’re older or younger, just as long as they could keep up with her that’s all mattered. but ever since you two started dating, she starts to wonder if she’s the one who could keep up with you and how deep down, it scares her that you might find a problem with it eventually.

note: I just had to post this before going to sleep because the idea is too good. I love the way your brain works and again, thank you for sending in the req <3 love you and I hope you like this.

you were a beacon of light in the cesspool of chaos that is sevika’s life.

to this day, she still doesn’t understand how you and her got into a relationship but here you are now, going strong for almost a year and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

you two rarely get into arguments, when you did she never hesitates to reach out and fix the situation right away because she can’t stand being on bad terms with you for long.

you two are on the same mental wavelength, which sevika appreciates given how you’re a lot younger than her. she’s in her 40s and you were in 20s, but sometimes she forgets because conversations always run smoothly between you two.

but just because she forgets that doesn’t mean other people fail to bring it up.

when you started dating, it was a bit difficult given how it wasn’t received well by a lot of her peers. not that they judged her for it because they could never unless they wanted to have their face busted in. but it was the occasional remarks that had a hint of judgement in them that made sevika uncomfortable.

things such as “she’s a bit young, isn’t she? you better keep an eye on her especially because you’re always at work. it’s hard being in a relationship with someone who’s at a different stage in life as you.”

both of you had jobs but her work compared to yours was hectic. you work as a waitress at jericho’s meanwhile sevika is paid to get her hands dirty for silco. the job was tedious and draining and sometimes she comes home, tired to the bone that she could barely catch up with you. which she feels immensely guilty for.

you’ve reassured her that it isn’t a big deal and that you understand her status in zaun is far more important than yours. you’ve always acknowledged sevika’s role in the under city and why she was feared by many, that’s what attracted you to her in the first place. she was loyal, devoted and her endurance was insane.

but still, despite how sevika’s job is her number one priority, it still doesn’t slip her mind that she may accidentally neglect you and your needs without her knowing.

and she knows it takes a toll on you too, you just don’t want to bring it up because you respect her too much. and she was right because when she came home early one night you weren’t there, and it was almost midnight when you finally returned and you were shocked to see sevika sitting on your couch waiting for you. usually she’d be back around 2-3am.

“hey, you didn’t tell me silco would let you off the hook early,” you said but your words became background noise because she was too focused on your appearance. you were dressed up and from where she sat she could tell you’ve had a lot to drink.

it’s not that it upset sevika you went out, you could do whatever you want but it saddens her that you didn’t even go out of your way to tell her about it assuming she’d be coming home late. is this what you do when she’s not here? go out with your friends and have fun? it’s not that she expects you to wait for her in your apartment all day while she’s away for work.

still, the thought bothers her as she wonders what you must’ve been up to while she was gone. she tries to set the thought aside, not wanting to think bad of you because she knows you’d never go against her back. but certain thoughts crept up at the back of her mind. did you meet someone while you were out? were you offered drinks? did someone invite you out to dance?

“sev, baby, you there?” she didn’t even realize she zoned out until she felt you cupping her cheek “are you tired? you shouldn’t have stayed up for me.”

she shook her head “it’s alright. but yeah, silco let me off early and I wanted to surprise you.”

your shoulders sagged “I’m sorry. I assumed you’d come home late again so I decided to just go out with friends. had I known I would’ve waited so we can stay in and cuddle.”

despite your flattery words, the only thing that stuck to sevika was you implying she’d be late again. you didn’t mean it maliciously, there was no bitterness in your tone but instead there was just… acceptance. which frustrated her because people were right.

perhaps being at different stages in life does this. you needed a partner who you can home to and have fun with but instead you got her who’s always late, is already asleep when you probably want to stay up and have sex at night. she would force herself to push through just for you but she isn’t getting any younger and it shows.

maybe it’s because others have planted it in her head that you two are just far too different that’s why she’s overthinking like this, but it’s becoming more and more evident that they were right and if she doesn’t find a way to fix this, god knows before you start seeing the cracks and the dents as well.

and so in the following day she asked silco if she could cut off her usual hours at work to get back home early. at least for a few weeks and silco was shocked for a second because if there was anyone who’s extremely dedicated to their job, it’s her.

but it’s because of that he deliberates on the request “very well,” he answered “but if the matters are urgent I expect you to come in either way,”

well, it’s better than nothing, sevika thought. what matters is she’ll try to find some time to spend the following weeks with you and to hopefully regain the spark in your relationship.

not that she’s saying it’s lost but she’s scared it will. because if her days don’t consist of work, she’s either at the bar playing cards to blow off some steam, which isn’t exactly a productive way of spending one’s time.

unlike you, you have tons of friends who you go out with at clubs and sevika just doesn’t want to think about all the people you meet there, who are probably the same age as you, and have wanted to ask you out but you turned them down because of her.

meanwhile, she’s here and she can’t even keep you happy like how you deserve.

it eats her up alive that’s why as soon as she comes back from work a lot earlier than usual, she immediately engulfs you in a back hug when she sees you cooking in the kitchen.

you gasped, not expecting her “sev, you’re home.” you were surprised as you turned around “did something happen?”

she shook her head, smiling “no sweetheart, silco just let me off early again. plus I’ve been meaning to spend more time with my girl…”

you still weren’t used to the disruption of the routine, because she’s normally away at these hours, but you weren’t complaining.

and with that, you spent most of the evening cooking and catching up with each other. you didn’t miss the way sevika followed you around the house like a lost puppy when you started cleaning up to get ready for bed.

you raised an eyebrow when she wrapped her arms around your waist while you were washing the dishes, noticing how she’s awfully more needy than usual.

“baby, go rest. you just got back home from work.” you giggled and she just shook her head.

“I just want to spend more time with you. I feel like I haven’t been the best partner.”

that halted you in your tracks and you angled your head so you can face her “baby, what makes you think that?” your eyebrows were furrowed and she just held you tighter.

she lets out a breath, tired and awfully nervous about vocalizing her doubts. what if once she points it out you start seeing the red flags too? and then these affectionate gestures just won’t be enough? what then?

“I know with my job and the responsibilities I have, I haven’t been able to fulfill your needs. you have so much ahead of you and I’m always at work and I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m wasting your time.” she said and you just stood there, letting her words sink in.

“you’re young and you could be with someone whose head isn’t always stuck in a bunch of paperwork or is running around the lanes doing silco’s dirty work.” her jaw clenched and she starts to wonder if admitting to all of this was a good idea.

“I’m sorry, princess. I just don’t want to bore you by leaving you here at home all by yourself…”

you immediately swiveled around in her arms and took her face in your hands.

“sev, look at me.” you said, your voice stern “I could give less than two fucks about people my age. you think when I got into a relationship with you I didn’t know what I was signing myself up for? of course I did and I don’t regret any of it. I know you have responsibilities and I accepted all of your duties the moment you became mine.”

“I could never be bored of you, baby.” you told her, thumb caressing her cheek “you don’t treat me any differently because of my age so why should I? I love it that you’re so hard at work and that you provide for me. the fact my salary at jericho’s isn’t even enough to pay half of our rent but you don’t mind because you provide for us both, why would I find that boring? that’s fucking sexy.”

she couldn’t help but let out a snort “oh, so what you’re saying is that you’re staying with me because I’m basically your sugar mommy?”

you grinned “amongst other things,” you said before capturing her lips with your own.

the kiss was hot, heavy and slow as sevika gripped your hips and pulled you against her. pushing her knee up and sliding it across your thighs and she started rubbing against your clothed cunt, making you whimper.

“so you’re not bored of me? or mad?” she asked as she pulled away to look at you.

you rolled your eyes “you could be 23 or 75 for all I care and I still wouldn’t get bored of you.”

your finger drew circles around her chest as you fluttered your eyes up at her “plus you fuck me like you’re 23 anyway, so I don’t see why I would look for someone my age.”

she couldn’t help but laugh, swooping you up in her arms and you circled your legs around her waist as she walked you to your bedroom “god, you’re such a handful.” she said.

you smirked “but you love it.”

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Bouncer

You feel perfectly safe getting drunk and letting loose, especially with your favourite bouncer to keep an eye on you. Well, up until the night you realise that every party has a price. Tags: Simon "Ghost" Riley inspired, implied somno, 3.1k words

Y'know who you shouldn't trust as much as you do? Bouncers. Sure, most of them are great. Just trying to do their jobs, keeping people safe when the booze starts hitting too hard.

But not in your case. No, when it comes to you - the bubbly party girl who smiles at just about everyone - the yandere bouncer at your favourite club doesn't have such noble intentions.

He's a big guy. All the security guys are, but he's big even by those standards. Standard issue black t-shirt straining at the seams when he crosses his arms. Mean mug, always scowling at any drunk stupid enough to breathe the same air as him.

Girls and guys alike think he's hot, but no amount of liquid courage can stand up to his glare. Anyone who tries to flirt with him usually thinks better of it when they're less than two sentences in. He's not here to hook up in the bathroom or be a rebound situationship. He's here to work.

The first time he runs into you, he barely notices anything beyond your skirt. Short as hell, even by clubbing standards.

What, do you want every bastard in there to get an eyeful of your thong, sweetheart?

He doesn't say it out loud. Just scoffs and hands you back your ID. Doesn't bother to reply when you wish him a good night.

The second time he runs into you, you're a little tipsy already. Smiling up at him like you don't see the pierced eyebrow or the scowl. He's tempted to not let you in - club has a strict no pre-drinking policy - but then you bat your lashes at him and joke that pre-gaming is the only way anyone can have any fun at all in this economy.

He snorts and let's you pass. He doesn't fully recognise you - too many faces, too little light - but some subconscious part of him takes note of your perfume. Something bright and fruity that makes him think of summer punch and getting drunk on the beach.

You try and greet him before you leave, half hanging off your more sober friend. You yell something over your shoulder about having a good time and smiling more. He isn't sure what you're on about, but it's kind of cute the way you mumble a little when you're drunk.

He doesn't expect to see you again, nor does he expect to recognise you if he does. There's half a dozen clubs in this rotten city, and half a million pretty girls with too short skirts.

But he does.

Notices you standing in line because the people around you are cracking up, total strangers laughing at some lame joke you made. He let's his partner do most of the ID checks that night. Not really realising it, but wanting a chance to watch you.

Your jokes aren't that funny. You touch people too much. You've got a laugh that's a bit too loud. But people like you.

Total strangers chatting it up and smiling like they've met a celebrity.

He rolls his shoulders, cracks his knuckles. A few people in the front of the line flinch away from him. He doesn't bother reassuring them.

What is it about you? What makes you so magnetic?

When you're finally at the front of the line, you give his partner a megawatt grin and call her by her name. Ask how her shoulders holding up after that brawl last week.

You smile at him too, your fingers brushing his wrist when you take your ID back.

"Hey, Mr tall, dark and scary. How's the biz treating you?"

"The same as it was last week. Same as it's going to be next week," he grinds out.

You pat his arm - are you seriously touching him? You barley know him - and flash him that same beaming smile.

"Don't be so pessimistic, handsome. I see lots of booze and parties in your future."

He scoffs. "Yeah. I reckon just about anyone could figure that."

You aren't offended. You just wink at him and disappear, your new friends in tow.

When he finally goes on break, he asks his partner about you.

"Oh, she's sweet, isn't she? Don't think she's been coming here long though."

"Three weeks," he mutters. "She knows your name?"

His partner laughs and tosses her cigarette onto the pavement. "Guess so. Nice of her to ask, don't you think?"

He isn't sure what to think, honestly.

He doesn't see you for two weeks after that. And when you're finally back, he can't help asking you about it.

"Oh, I had work," you say with a shrug. "I'm very flattered that you noticed."

"Hard not to. There wasn't any commotion, so I figured you weren't around."

You giggle and slap his arm, as cheesy as a cheerleader in a slasher movie. Still, it's kind of nice. Girls don't really act that way around him. It's either shy or terrified. Bubbly and a little over the top is a nice change.

He watches you walk away, your skirt just as short as the first time he noticed you.

Damn, doll. You make it hard for a man to focus. Got my mind in the bloody gutter.

It's late when you finally stumble out of the club, your heels in one hand and your phone in the other. You're trying to order an Uber but your cracked and unresponsive screen doesn't mix well with your booze addled senses. He gives it five minutes before he intervenes.

He plucks the phone out of your hand and sighs when you sag against him, half murmured thank yous slurring against his sleeve.

Out past your bedtime, eh love?

"Where do you stay?"

You tell him, your eyes half closed and your forehead resting against his arm.

Telling a stranger your address? C'mon doll, you should know better than that.

He waits with you until your ride arrives, and then he walks you to the car. He takes note of the number plate, only half aware that he's doing it.

He leans on the roof, barring his teeth at the driver in something only half related to a smile.

"Drop her off safe, yeah?"

"Yeah, for sure," the man agrees, nodding like a bobble head. "Wouldn't think of messing with her."

I'll break your wrists if you even look at her wrong.

"Right. Have a good one."

He raps his knuckles on the roof and watches until the tail lights fade.

There's an itch at the back of his brain that he just can't get rid of. Some annoying, rebellious part of him that keeps thinking about how warm you felt when you leaned up against him. How you're just short enough that he can rest his chin on your head.

The itch doesn't go away.

He keeps thinking about you until the weekend rolls around. What the hell do you do for work? It's hard to picture you in corporate - not when he's seen how low your necklines go. Pitching up to meetings and HR presentations when just a few nights ago you were drinking shots off a stranger's back? Not fucking likely.

...Although you would look pretty great in one of those tight little pencil skirts. Yeah, you pert ass would probably have your coworkers breaking their necks.

He doesn't see you in line until it's almost midnight. You look a little out of it. Constantly checking your phone, a half frown puckering your perfectly gelled brows.

He wants to pull you out of line. He really does. Not to give you any fancy VIP treatment - he wouldn't mind it though, he'd like to spoil you a little - but to just talk.

He shakes his head like a bull until the urge isn't quite so loud. Unprofessional, that. Showing favouritism. Not fair to the other people waiting in line. Still...

When he does finally get to talk to you, you aren't yourself. You cover it up with a smile, but even he can tell it's a poor veneer.

"I'm meeting up with my ex," you tell him when he finally gets around to asking. (It takes awhile. Has your ID always been this interesting? Shiny patterns. Nice typeface they're using now. And your birthday is exactly six months after his. Cute).

He doesn't know what to say to that. Isn't sure how he feels about it, either. Why the hell are you meeting some douche who you were one hundred percent right to dump? (He assumes it was you who did the dumping. No man in his right mind would let you go, not even if you're the type to swing a knife around on bad days).

"Good luck," he manages at last. "Hope he isn't an ass."

You squeeze his arm when you leave and he feels the ghost of your fingers for the rest of the night.

Your ex is an ass. All that and more. He can tell from the too heavy cologne, the pretentious boat shoes, the obnoxious laugh.

You're on his arm, smiling but not entirely comfortable. What are you thinking? Entertaining this overly polished turd of a man?

He stops you before you leave. Leans down and brushes his lips against your hair.

"You sure you're okay to go home with this guy?"

You give him a quick nod and a grateful smile.

He straightens, angry but not entirely sure why. He watches you walk away, his right hand clenching and unclenching around his radio until the veins stand out on his forearm.

You could do better than that, doll. You could be doing me.

He ends up finding your ex's name. Entirely on accident, swear. Finger slipped and before he knew it he was watching the CCTV footage of the front door, pausing when the guy's ID got flashed to the camera.

And now that he has that info, it's only logical that he checks him out on social media. You're a valued customer. He needs to be sure that the people you're associating with are safe.

Oh, and this guy isn't safe at all. Party animal, pussy hound. Sure, there's a pic or two of you together, but most of his profile is dedicated to shots of raves and cocktails and pretty girls.

You deserve better, don't you know that? Someone who can keep you safe when you're drunk, who can keep an eye on you when the clubs you like are filled with dark corners and shady drinks.

He's going to ask you out. It's only half decided - most of his brain pulling him one way and most of his cock pulling him the other. His heart split somewhere in the middle.

He's gonna be good for you, he knows it. Get rid of that overblown and overrated ex. Teach you which drinks are hopelessly overpriced and which ones are worth the cash. Not going to change you, no. That's what insecure men try and do when their girl likes to let loose on the weekends. No, he likes you just as you are. You need a bit of muscle to lean on, that's all.

But when the weekend rolls around, all his plans go swirling down the gutter. You're on your ex's arm again. Smiling too quick, laughing too sharp. But with him all the same.

C'mon doll, thought you were smarter than that.

You don't get a chance to chat. Your ex drags you straight into the club, barely waiting to get his ID back.

He wants to trade shifts. Abandon door duty and follow you around inside.

He doesn't. He snaps at the patrons and he bites his tongue bleeding and he clenches his fist until his nails dig into his skin, and he manages to not follow you.

The best decision to make, after all.

Your ex waits until the night is almost over to finally make his move. Or at least that's how it looks.

When he walks out of the club with his arm around your waist, it's clear that you're totally out of it. Barely standing on your own two feet, hair hanging forward and hiding your face.

He stops you. Of course he does. He's seen you tipsy and he's seen you blackout, but he's never seen you this bad.

Your ex tries to brush it off.

"She didn't have any head for the shots, that's all."

He doesn't buy it. Tilts your chin up and shines his torch in your eyes.

There it is. The fucking bastard.

Your pupils are blown out wide, not contracting at all even with his torch burning right into your retinas.

He knows you. Better than he'd like to admit. And he knows you don't party this hard.

He straightens and looks down at your ex with thinly veiled disgust.

"She's not going home with you."

The man laughs. "She's my girlfriend. 'Course she is."

He smiles. Or shows his teeth at least.

"She's. Not. Going. Anywhere."

The man freezes for a second, and then his smile turns nasty. "Who the fuck are you to decide who goes home with who?"

He wants to punch your ex in the throat.

He doesn't. Just looks at him, fingers curling into a fist almost as big as your head. Your ex is drunk, he's not as sharp as he would be sober. But his instincts aren't so dull that they don't recognise what's in front of him.

He's a bouncer, true. But more than that, he's a fighter.

Your ex can see it in the way he stands, can see it in the eyes that move too quick to follow.

And he's not just a fighter. He's a man with a whole lot to fight for.

Your ex licks his lips, too stupid to shut up.

"I'll call the cops on you, asshole."

The bouncer laughs. The first time anyone around here has ever heard it.

It's not a pleasant sound.

"Go ahead," he snarls softly, "Call them. And when they show up, why don't you also tell 'em the reason why your girlfriend is all shot up with special K, hmm?"

"She isn't -

"Don't even try it."

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you away from your ex. The bastard at least has the sense to not fight him.

Your boyfriend starts going on about calling the club owner, getting him fired. But he doesn't bother listening - it all fades to nothing when he holds you.

There, the way it's 'sposed to be.

You're warm, burning up with a fever. (How hot does your cunt feel if your hands are already scorching?) He needs to get you checked out. Needs to make sure whatever shit your ex snuck you isn't mixing with the alc.

You blink up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. (Your lipstick would look so fucking good staining his cock).

"Mr tall, dark and scary. Gonna get me home again?"

He nudges you in the direction of the parking lot and you stumble, hands knotting in his shirt.

"Even better, doll. Gonna take you home myself."

You close your eyes the second he straps you into his passenger seat. It takes a minute or two to shake you awake.

He isn't an EMT, but working clubs means knowing all the signs of an overdose. You're on the verge of passing out, but you're not in any real danger. Breathing regular, heartbeat fast but not concerningly so. Lucky. Things could have gone a whole lot worse. As it stands, all you're going to suffer tomorrow is a bit of nausea and one killer headache.

He brushes the hair out of your eyes and smiles when you lean your face into his palm.

"You're totally out of it, aren't you? Won't remember a thing come morning."

You hum quietly, lips brushing his pulse.

"The hell am I 'sposed to do with you? You don't even have your keys on you."

He sighs and closes the passenger door. No help for it - he's going to have to take you to his place. (You, in his bed, where you belong).

You don't complain when the engine guns to life. A little beyond the realm of registering those sorts of things.

And you don't complain when he carries you up to his apartment, your head in the crook of his neck.

He doesn't mean to undress you. He's a lot of things, but not a degenerate. It's just when he finally lays you down on his sheets, it's clear that the straps on your dress are cutting into your. Gonna leave marks that burn in the morning.

Getting you out of your dress is the responsible thing to do. And if it has his cock twitching, well, that's just coincidental.

You're in matching lace underwear.

He fists the blanket until he stops thinking of beating your asshole ex into a dirt.

She was gonna give it to you anyway, you bastard. You didn't have to drug her.

He breathes out through his nose. Once. Twice. Calm down, focus on the here and now. Deal with that bastard later.

There. Much better. And look at you, burrowing down into his pillows. Do you like the smell of him, is that what this is?

He undoes your bra and tosses it over his shoulder to join your dress and heels.

Didn't he once hear that it's unhealthy to sleep with a bra on? Increases the risk of cancer or something. Yeah, that's why he took it off. For the sake of your health.

He watches you for a while. The steady rise and fall of your chest, the flickering behind your eyelids as you start to dream.

He should take a picture or two. It would be a shame not to. And what you don't know can't hurt you, right? All pretty in his bed. God knows the girls he brings home never get the chance to sleep. This is a rare thing, worth documenting.

The flash doesn't bother you. Maybe a few more. Just to make sure they're good quality. Don't want to look back tomorrow and realise the pics are all blurry.

Just a few more. Maybe a video.

You look good, but you'd look even better without your panties in the way. They ruin the view.

He hooks his thumb under the band and slips them off, his fingers almost brushing your cunt.

There. So much better.

He swallows and puts his phone down, some part of him screaming at him for being a bastard. Another part screaming at him for not being a big enough bastard to take what he wants.

"You're too sweet to end up in a stranger's bed, doll. Getting fucked when you're too out of it to remember."

The streetlight outside his window washes you in alternating stripes of dark and light. He leans down and runs a hand up your thigh. Soft skin, like a peach right before you sink your teeth in.

"So it's a good thing we're not strangers."

[ayrtonswnna]

hello there!

Can I request a Franco x reader? But where Ayrton Senna is alive in this universe and the reader is Senna? If not, then fine. It's up to you. Thanks in advance 😊😊

ʚɞ a/n: that is my moment!!!!!!!! i often imagine how would it be to have ayrton in contemporary scenarios it's unhealthy lol. i really think he'd be full of jokes and a fun guy just like he was off track. thanks for the request, it was a real nice one to write! (and if anyone has any senna request, i'll be more tham happy to take it! (i'm even willing to write stuff with senna himself))

ʚïɞ "you got me good" FC43

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀↳ masterlist ↳ drop a request! ↳ more franco fluff!

✧₊⁺ franco colapinto x cecília senna (senna!female oc)

✧₊⁺ word count: 1,6k⠀⠀⠀⠀✧₊⁺, gender: crack, fluff.

✧₊⁺ summary: franco and cecília kept a secret relationship and when they decide to come clean, her father was ahead of it and he's a total menace.

✧₊⁺ warnings: alternative universe where that may 1th 1994 didn't happen and ayrton grew old like he deserved to, my hyper focus on that man shown in references, a bit of portuguese properly translated, kinda short and poorly contextualized, curse words, franco is a baby, just soft and light content for the win.

"What do you mean he doesn't know about it?"

Franco took a deep breath, massaging his own scalp as his friend and co-worker continued talking, a mix of excitement and judgment in his words.

"You are not making this any better," he mouthed.

"You are dating his daughter! You are da-ting. The man's daughter. Like... The man's daughter. The hell haven't you met her family!?"

"I am scared, okay!? If I get rejected by her family... It's not just my girlfriend's family. It's simply Senna himself! Should I what!? Drop the job? Hide in a cave?"

Alex laughed, the words and the tone easing the tension. The guy was worried to death and things might be simpler than he thought. Everyone knew Senna was a fun person.

Dating Cecília Senna felt almost like marrying into royalty. It's a good feeling, though. Bagging Cecília Senna could easily be added to one of Franco's big achievements — and he's a former F2 driver called in last minute to fill a Formula One seat — and he's doing great.

But still, it's Cecília Senna, the only child of a legend, someone he looked up to growing up, someone he saw in the paddock many times before ending up in his daughter's sheets.

"Hello, everyone!"

God, his heart might have dropped to the floor just now. The retired driver walked into the garage happily, with his daughter attached to his arm and waving familiarly.

Everyone gathered around them immediately, though Cecília's eyes instantly met Franco's. She knew he was scared and had made fun of him until she couldn't anymore, teasing him in every way she could.

"I've heard the news on the Argentinian! You guys are lucky you got away easily!"

Alright, it's time to pray. What news? That he's fucking his daughter? That they meet every week? That she wanted a Williams' box pass so badly just because of him? Or... That they hid it from everyone just to gain a bit more time?

"We got quality, mate! That's it." Vowels took his cue to fill in the blank, the people dispersing and going back to their work. "Found the kid sparring and made him a beast."

"Yeah, of course," the Brazilian laughed. "What's up, buddy! Feeling the pressure?"

Franco mentally cursed Cecília for raising her eyebrows and doubling the meaning of the question, but he managed to stand up and dry his sweaty hands on his pants.

"I try not to, honestly. Not... think about it a lot," he said, feeling he could have worded the sentence a bit better as they shook hands.

"That's the spirit! I heard a lot about you, little man. Do you know my daughter? Cecília?"

Tricky question. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tricky question.

If he had heard about it, then he knew about them. Franco could say "yes" and end up with a lecture, or say "no" and be caught in a lie.

"You guys think you are smart, huh? Fooling around, hiding from cameras..."

Oh, it's over. It's over for him. The "drop the job and hide in a cave" plan was almost running in his veins right now. Maybe he should Sebastian Vettel his way around, retire early, and move to a countryside home in Switzerland. Yes, that's a good plan.

"Pai... Para com isso." Cecília shoved her dad's side, rolling her eyes. (Dad... Stop that.)

"What? You guys thought you got away with it?"

"Pai! Ele tá ficando sem graça!" she insisted. (Dad! He's getting uncomfortable!)

Franco thought of speaking up, but the nerves were all up and maybe he should let it be.

"Yeah! He should!" Ayrton still had a serious look on his face, making Franco shiver.

"Pai, sério." (Dad, I'm serious.)

"Sir, I know it—"

"Come on, Franquinho! I'm fooling around, take that scared look off your face!" In a matter of seconds, Ayrton's grin turned into a playful smile, and his arm was hooked over Franco's shoulder, messing up his hair and leaving him even more confused. "Did I scare you? You should have seen your eyes!"

Franco laughed, still a bit dulled. That was a big one.

"You're a bastard," Cecília rolled her eyes once again, aware of the father she had.

The man was a natural jokester, full of little jokes and loved making uncomfortable scenarios in the name of fun. He was a handful.

"And you guys should have told me about this before! You lost it all, Franquinho. Angra, the travels... You need to be introduced to the family!"

He had heard about Angra; the beach house Cecília went to every now and then, how much she and her father loved the place. He even saw an old interview where Ayrton said that his retirement plans included being "Angra's nature inspector."

"Yeah- Yeah, sim." Franco risked some Portuguese, patting Ayrton on the back before they both stepped apart. "Sorry for... for taking too long to meet you, I was- Damn, you got me good."

"I could see!" Senna didn't waste a single laugh. "Don't worry, little boy. You're a good investment. And Cecília is pretty happy, so... you got my support."

"I'm even happier to hear it." Franco chuckled. "Thank you, very much. Your daughter also makes me really happy."

"Of course! Her bad jokes make everyone laugh." Ayrton kept the teasing going. "Now you better show me some racing! I've been in your place and to keep the daughter you need to be as good as dad!"

"You should have seen your face, baby!"

Franco glanced at his girlfriend as he turned his head, their first alone time since the morning's humiliation session.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he mouthed, shirt off and focus switching. "That was traumatizing."

"I told you he's a clown." Her shoulders went up a bit. "But he wasn't lying at the end! He likes you!"

"I got that part. Now I know where you got that dark humor from." The blue-eyed boy stood in the middle of his room, hands on his waist as he let his girlfriend use her eyes.

"What can I say? I am my father's daughter." She smiled mischievously. "He wants you to spend some time, though. Before Vegas, maybe?"

"I could've Max Verstappen my way around and have stayed for the week... But we waited until your dad could scare me to death in the middle of the box so... Yeah, it can be next week." He started simple, voice steady.

But then Cecília approached and her hands liked to touch. All over his torso while she traced a good way for his hair.

"You ain't seen nothing yet." The smile was still on her face, lips coming closer and closer to his. "But I am really happy, you know? Now we can just be and enjoy some time... I can take you to Angra, and I don't need to hide in your driver's room. I was done with pretending I was investing in Williams just so I had a reason to watch the races here."

"Told you about it... You could afford my seat."

Another joke. Ever since he got into F1 as an emergency call, she did say she only had to call her dad and his 2025 seat would be secured.

"You're gonna get it because you deserve it, I am not affording that." She flashed her eyelashes, rimming a single syllable as his hands also started to travel.

Inside her expensive shirt, up and down her back in good pressure before they found room at her waist.

"You know what else I deserve?"

"You freak! Go shower and I'll be waiting for you outside. My dad is around!"

It took them no time. Within weeks, Ayrton and Franco became partners in crime, and suddenly, Cecília was having a taste of her own medicine.

"Turn it off! Now!" Ayrton whispered in a screaming tone, the last signal Franco needed before turning off the power for the whole house.

Cecília had just come back from the beach and Franco finally knew the Angra house. It was dark, and the prank was not very well planned.

"Porra." (Shit.) they heard the Brazilian swearing. "Que inferno, de novo? PAAAAI?" (What the hell, again? DAAAAD?)

He knew some words in Portuguese and it only made it funnier. Him and his father-in-law were hiding in the small laundry room as Cecília searched for them.

"Ready, kid?"

"No, but I'll do it anyways."

"Good kid. You're a great one." The old man, as a new custom, messed with the Argentinian's hair, before opening the door and waiting for him to leave.

"Eu juro, se vocês estiverem armando pra cima de mim eu— Ah— FRANCO! NO!" (I swear, if you guys are planning something against me I—)

He's fast even with his limited knowledge about the furniture in the house, walking in the dark before he could lift her and throw her over his shoulder.

It's the fourth time she's thrown in the pool and she just knows it's her father opening the glass door for the exterior area before she's sinking in cold water.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ALL!" Cecília screamed. "I JUST WASHED MY HAIR! OH MY GOD! PUTTING YOU TWO TOGETHER WAS THE WORST THING I EVER DID!"

"Não reclama, princesinha..." (Don't you complain, little princess...) her father played, now standing besides her boyfriend. "Bate aqui, you passed the test. Welcome to the family." (High five,)

"I hate you guys. Eu odeio vocês, los odio. Whatever. Don't ever talk to me again." Cecília stomped her way out of the pool, walking straight past them.

"Don't get mad, baby... It's just a joke!"

"Well, boy... It's your girlfriend. Go ease her nerves. You're called Colapinto for a reason."

ʚïɞ ayrtonswnna, 2024. check my masterlist or drop a request (: reblogs and feedback are always welcome (:

[pro-sipper]

Had such a fun conversation with my therapist today. Honestly I'd been wanting to bring up the whole pro/anti debacle with her just to see what she'd say and how it would stack up against what proshippers and antishippers have to say about therapy online. No points for correctly guessing which side she agreed with

I talked about my job for about 3/5ths of the time there, then segued into The Discourse by telling her about how I'd been writing daily during the first two weeks of my new job, but hadn't been as active lately

And I even asked her if she had any other chronically online clients she talked to and she reassured me that she had plenty, and even one who had kind of explained this whole debate to her before (from a proshipper stance, and how she lost a friend over it)

I explained my whole issue with her about how fandom is so deep into purity culture these days. And how reckless and raunchy it was in the 00s and how I don't want to go back to that, but there's got to be some middle ground somewhere.

I told her about some of the stuff I've written and all the weird or nasty comments I've gotten on it and how that can be discouraging. And I told her that most of my works are smut, and of those smut works, all of them have at least a little sprinkling of trauma in them. And she said that can be a good way to look at things. And used a real life example of how something could be awful but there could be good things about it too. Specifically saying that nothing is just black and white, everything has shades of grey. And that digging the little good out of the big bad is a positive thing, actually

And I told her about being a young teen and reading a fic with incest in it and having the sense not to immediately jump to "I want to recreate this in real life" and she was like "Yes, exactly. It's like this one book I read, umm..." and I was like "Flowers In The Attic?" just as a guess and she was like "Yes!" and said just because you read about something doesn't mean you want it to be your reality

And I did my best to explain the whole concept of how some people seem to think that everyone engages with fiction by putting themselves in the shoes of the main character, so if the main character is doing awful things then you must want to do awful things too. Which of course she said was in no way true

And she told me that she was such a big fan of horror movies and loved to watch those as a way to relax and unwind bc it gets her mind off her work, but that doesn't mean she wants to be a killer lol. And I had to be like "Oh no you don't understand. They think killing and torture and cannibalism is totally fine, it's just when you bring sex into the equation that people start freaking out" and she was confused at that lol

And of course she thought it was ridiculous that people can get called a pedo or a groomer or whatever other awful things over fictional stories.

So yeah it was a fun and reassuring conversation. I know I'm leaving some stuff out but I can't remember any more specifics of what was said. Plus I was talking a mile a minute bc I wanted to say everything on my mind before time was up asfdsfs it was a monumental task.

OH and I even brought up how people will literally say "well my therapist said..." just for some other people to accuse them of lying or saying their therapist is corrupt or some other bullshit which she was understandably aghast at. Because she is a licensed therapist who went to Therapy School and knows better, and is not a magical villain promoting propaganda fed to her by Big Proship to corrupt her clients. You know how it is <3

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hi my first time doing something like this...

But could I get some headcanons or story (you decide) about a Yautja (again you can decide) with a SO that is a social Jinx for example they try to be nice to a colleague but accidentally says somthing that makes them mad or they get ignord if they are in a conversation just like always get socially pushed aside? So because of that they started years ago to work with mistreated animals especially dogs.

If thats to specific or to confusion that totally fine :3

And Im sorry but english isn't my first language so yeah...

Have a nice day :3

Socially Awkward

Pairing: Gawtin (female yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1835

Summary: A corporate job just doesn't seem like your thing. With that many people around, you've never been able to figure out what's the right thing to say. You always mess up and make someone mad. No matter what you do. But, you have the animal shelter to scamper off too. A mate who waits at home for you as well. One who is more than willing to take you off planet.

Author Note: Your English is perfect! Don't worry about it. Thank you! I never realized how many people who aren't native English speakers read my stuff either. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Ao3

Julie stood in front of you, going on and on about how her acne has worsened. She was your coworker in the office job worked fives a week, either hours a day. You nodded along to her rambling and poking at her weight as well. Maybe that was her problem, she thought.

“Julie, your acne isn’t that bad! Paul probably can’t see it from his desk. Even if he did, he won’t think it as gross as disgusting,” you attempted to reassure her while using her workplace crush to help.

Instantly, the woman got red in the face and bristled. “You’re so mean!” she cried and stomped her foot. You reeled your head back, brows furrowed in confusion. How? You were just trying to her, to calm her nerves. She seemed so tense, so you thought using Paul was a good idea. Apparently no. Then, Julis huff and marched back to her seat. Her heels making a dull clicking on the cheap, thin carpet.

Confused, you stood there for a moment longer until you slowly returned to your cubicle. Despite what just happened, the work doesn’t stop. Maybe later, you could go apologize to her. Clearly, what you had said was wrong on so many levels. So, you wait until lunch where everyone would be and sit next to Julie.

Said woman doesn’t even glance at you from the corner of her eye. You deflated in your chair and slouched over your meal. A meal that your mate made for you today. You smiled at the thoughtful Gawtin. Your lovely mate. Currently, she’s on a hunt with a couple of her hunt siblings. She wouldn’t be home tonight. Your face fell.

The group conversed amongst each other, telling them of their home lives or a rude customer on the phone. All the usual stuff that happens during lunch. Every now and then, you would try to speak up, try to add to the conversation. Every time, you were ignored or spoken over by another coworkers. Soon enough, lunch had come to an end, leaving you feeling more empty than before.

At the end of the day, you changed out of your nice clothing and into an old t-shirt and sweats. A lot more comfortable. You got into your car and completely bypassed home. There was a different place you had in mind. A place that no words were needed. Just your hand and a lot of treats.

This place felt like a second home to you. And it wasn’t the people.

You’ve been coming here for years. Even before you met Gawtin and Qui-oky. No one treated you bad here. No one ignored you or spoke over you. At least not in a hurtful manner. They were scared here. New place, new people, new smells. Who could blame them for an action they had no control over? They weren’t here for good reason. People abandoned them. Almost like with you. You understood them far better than anyone could.

These poor, mistreated creatures who beg to have a home that loves them. You may not be able to give them a home but you could show them that the world wasn’t all that bad. That there were good people out there that will take them in and care for them. Show them there is this thing called love.

Good ol’ Charlie sat in his kennel. Big brown eyes staring up at you. A sweetie unless a kid was around. He was also a tri-pod dog as well. He was missing his front right leg after an accident of some sort. No one knows what happened to him before he arrived here at the doorstep of the shelter.

Slowly, the kneel door was opened. Charlie’s tail start to wag. You smiled happily and got into the kennel with him. You sat down right by the door to give him all the space he needs. Yet, the progress has shown. All the time you’ve spent with him has paid off.

The golden retriever timidly entered your space then laid down against you. His fluffy, smooth head plopped down in your lap. Your fingers carded through his recently washed fur. You relaxed against the wall with a soft hum. “Who’s a good boy?” you cooed to him. Humans don’t understand you or vice versa. But animals do.

By the time you were done cuddling with Charlie, the shelter was closing. With one last goodbye to him, you left the building feeling much better than before. Coming here always helped you.

When you arrived home in a better mood, you threw your keys on the counter. You busied yourself around the entrance of the you home; taking off your shoes and jacket, putting your mini backpack in the closet. Then, you finally headed to your bedroom for some good sleep. Only to stop in your tracks.

There, in your shared bed, was a napping green form you knew so well. Gawtin was back from her hunt early!

Quietly, you tiptoed to the closet for a quick change of clean clothes. You went to the side of the bed, looking down at her. Qui-oky was tucked to her side. The toddler was spread out and somehow upside down. A small huff of amusement left you. You gingerly laid down with controlled movements and cuddled up to Gawtin. Either she was awake or just acted on muscle memory. Her arm reached out and wrapped around your torso. Gawtin tugs you against her side and nuzzles her face into your hair. You feel her take a breath, scenting you.

A deep, chest rattling groan came from her. “Hm, you smell like the shelter,” she stated the obvious. That place had a unique scent that always stuck to your skin afterwards. A good shower usually got the stink off of you. “Is there something you would like to say?”

Her being Yautja made all this social crap fine. Because she didn’t adhere to human social norms. They were different compared to what you already knew. Even if you do fuck up, she doesn’t get mad at you. She understood that you didn’t always mean what you said. That the words that come from your lips sometimes get jumbled. You meant the best trying to be nice.

You were looking up at her with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. There was no way you could hide from her. Gawtin knows you too well. Probably better than yourself.

“Well… just the usual.” You didn’t need to explain any further. It’s a common occurrence. “I thought you were going to be gone for sometime. So, I just decided to go straight to the shelter. Charlie says hi by the way.” A couple of times you’ve taken Charlie home, he’s loved Gawtin a lot. If it wasn’t for Qui-oky, you would’ve adopted him in a heartbeat. But Charlie doesn’t like kids. Something with hi past life that only he knows. Poor thing.

The giant Yautja hummed and used a hand to cup your cheek. “My offer still stands,” she reminds you of what she offered you a few weeks ago. When you had a horrible panic attack after an awkward, terrible moment with another coworker. Gawtin want you to join her, to leave earth and go to her home planet.

To Yautja Prime. Where there are twin suns that’ll, burn your skin; where there are things scarier than a Yautja; where her kind resides! Yautjas don’t like humans. They hunt them. That’s probably the main reason you don’t want to live there. Gawtin is wonderful, amazing. It’s the rest of her kind you have to watch out for. She, of course, has reassured you many times no one will ever hurt you. They can’t. That still doesn’t ease your nerves about messing up with your terrible social skills.

What happens if you said or did the wrong thing? Dead. They could kill you!

A scared whine left your lips. You looked towards the bed, unable to meet her softly glowing eyes. The purple in them a stark remind of how different she is to you. Her thumb started to stroke your cheek while she drew your attention back to her.

“I am not pushing you to move, little one. I want to let you know that the offer will forever stand,” she softly spoke then leaned in to give you a mock kiss to your forehead. “I care a lot about you. I do not wish to see you suffer like this if I can help it.”

“My home is far from many cities or towns. It is quiet and peaceful. The nearest person to me is my sister, Bziut-ty. I have already told her about you. She enjoys the stories and wish to meet you.” Your eyes widened. Meet her sister? Your heart stuttered in your chest. “I wish to provide for you and care for you; to offer a life of comfort and peace. The same way you did for me when you entered my life.” You softened at her confession.

“This was an extremely hard decision. To uproot everything and not only leave earth behind but to travel to another world. It was terrifying to think about, let alone do it! But this was Gawtin you were talking about. She never made a promise that she couldn’t keep. Never

One of the main things that kept you from outright saying ‘yes! Lets go!’ was Charlie and the others that depend on you. They needed you to teach them what love is. Who would they do that if you were gone?

All of this stress wasn’t good for you though. It’s not a good work environment to stress yourself over like this. Crying over things from work. It’s probably stressing Gawtin out too.

A whine left your throat. This was hard to decide. She’s given you plenty of time to maul over it. But, she never pushes you to make a decision. Because it’s a big decision. You gnawed on your bottom lip and toyed with your hands.

Then, you looked back up at her. “If we can take Benett,” you gave her a condition. Since Charlie was off of the list with his aggression of children, Benett though just has a resource guarding problem. It’s been hard to unwork that from his system. He was the safest option plus you would feel better if you had one of them with you for the journey.

Gawtin’s features broke out into a smile. “Of course. If he makes the transition easier, then yes.” She wanted the best for you. The small human had warmed away into her heart and created a spot there.

Soon enough, by the end of the week, you had Benett and were settling down in your new home. It was cute, perfect size for the four of you. There were no worries of work and life to weight you down anymore.

This was the happiest Gawtin has ever seen you.

[ckret2]

I'm still spending this evening making various Aku-related posts and I talked about the Action Pack comics already so I'm gonna talk about the actually good IDW comics now.

First, THE most important detail in the comics:

I said a while ago that I think Aku likes trees but I stopped short of headcanoning that he actually, like, cares for any plants. I felt like actually voluntarily nurturing a living thing for fun was pushing the outer bounds of what his Made Of Pure Evil personality allows for.

But if the comics says it's canon? fine by ME! Aku's into bonsai. Which is actually the perfect gardening activity for him, since it's basically artistically torturing an imprisoned tree.

I don't think he could handle, like, a terrarium, though. If there were living animals/bugs in with his plants he would be constantly fighting the urge to squash and slaughter them all even though he KNOWS they're good for the plants. He knows! But it feels so WRONG not to kill them. It goes against all his morals.

And the OTHER most important detail in the comics:

(the number is spelled googolplex but whatever im not mad)

aku... aku, why is that the reward ur offering.

like there are three possibilities here:

1) enough people consider aku desirable (or at least have a reason to want to spend time with him) that this actually is a reward that might help motivate people;

2) aku is NOT that desired but he thinks he is and is totally sure that the dinner date is gonna motivate people; or

3) nobody wants him, aku knows nobody wants him, but like,, he's lonely, so he tacked on the date to the hilariously huge cash reward so people can't say no. The dinner date and the cash prize bigger than any number that can be rendered in this universe are a package deal. don't you WANT to be rich enough to break reality?? three hours with aku. you can pick the restaurant.

In my heart, I feel like it's #3. Aku radiates "chronically unloved but like it doesn't bother him it's fine he doesn't mind" energy, with the sincerity of that "it doesn't bother him" varying depending on how you feel like interpreting him. Which would have to mean he's not desired enough to have found out about it, and he doesn't assume he's desired. he's got an ego, but I think he has a very strong dividing line between "i'm wonderful" and "people think i'm wonderful." nobody thinks he's wonderful; they think he's the worst, because he's THE BEST at being the worst.

it could be a mix of #3 and #1; like, he assumes nobody actually wants a date with him, but a lot of people would want him as a captive audience for a few hours (to make him read their resume and try to score a cushy government job, or to plea for their loved ones' release from the pit of hate, whatever), so he threw "and I'll let you talk to me for a few hours" in as a reward and framed it as a date because it makes him feel better.

anyway i wish someone had collected that bounty. i wanna see that date. i bet aku wouldn't even shrink down for it. he'd be sitting there 100 feet over his date & the table while they crane their neck up at him.

fellas is it gay to throw your nemesis into a time portal and then wait with bated breath and infinite patience for him to arrive into your future so your revenge can be complete?

I mean... you're waiting on a man

(no but this dialogue makes it sound like aku spent a lotta time thinking about & anticipating jack's arrival. which is an interesting interpretation. I'd always seen him as like... okay he threw jack into the future because that was a problem he wanted to deal with Later. and so he put it out of his mind until Later. he wasn't particularly eager for it, killing jack was just a chore he had to do. the idea that he was practically salivating at the thought of getting his hands on jack again so he could tear him apart is intriguing.)

I know his fortress teleports in canon, but I think "teleports every 30 days" is lore specific to the comic. I embrace it and "he just picks up temp workers for a month" as fully canon. dunno about the idea that his fortress houses a merch factory though. not as much a fan of that.

I like this because like, Aku's repeatedly called a "wizard" but he doesn't often do much wizardy stuff. He seems to function much more like a creature with superpowers. "Wizard" implies skill—you've got to study and learn stuff.

Aku's very sedentary. He seems to mainly sit around in his fortress, wait for people to come to him, and send people out to obey his orders. So hearing about him doing stuff—going out, treasure hunting, studying magical artifacts, gaining new knowledge!—is an interesting rarity. Was he more adventurous when he was younger, I wonder, when he still hadn't finished conquering Earth, or when he wasn't yet fully settled into the role of ruler? Is he so sedentary now because he's already been there, done that? Or was that always part of his nature and he only drags himself outside to do stuff when he feels it's absolutely necessary?

also this is the most ridiculous thing aku's ever done

[so-i-did-this-thing]

I haven’t seen the 2020 series but my absolute favorite show is ACGAS 1978! Siegfried is so iconic haha. Do you have any thoughts on Siegfried in the 2020 series vs the 1978 one? Actors, portrayal, opinions, etc.

(Totally free to ignore if you don’t feel like talking about it of course, my feelings won’t be hurt)

Siegfried Farnon, I love all his incarnations. As a kid, I saw a lot of my faults in him (and still do), but also a lot of what I aspire to be - clever, charming, and generous. All 3 of the Skeldale vets shaped how I internalize my masculinity. (James' work ethic & determination, Tristan's ability to go with the flow and roll with punches.) I binged both shows (not quite all of 1978, tho) within 8 months, having avoided them until last year. The books are very special to me and I was afraid to engage with either show for fear they wouldn't Get Siegfried. I was very, very wrong.

Robert Hardy had some very cool interests- him being a longbow expert is absolutely fascinating and I keep meaning to watch the documentary he was involved in. Wild he was a consultant regarding the longbows of the Mary Rose. Absolutely was living the dream.

His Siegfried is such a little shit and I love him -- Hardy really captures the "beautific" mode his book counterpart would shift into when giving his hypocritical lectures. His side hustle schemes are favs of mine, because he doesn't actually want to do the work, just come up with the idea.

1978! Siegfried has a fantastic manic energy he flips on and off like a switch, though seeing book!Siegfried's temper on-screen vs Tristan played for laughs makes me uncomfortable -- that's a change I think the 2020 show tackles better, as it explores why the Farnon brothers are Like That.

Samuel West also is a fascinating human. We're both Gen X kids and I've love to have a board game night or go birding with him. His Siegfried has a melancholy streak that speaks to me (I took book!Siegfried as having some brand of mood cycling) and I really enjoy seeing him soften into a family man as the series progresses.

Not to say West doesn't also inject Siegfried with an enjoyable kinetic energy, it's just a different brand than Hardy's. (I was very skeptical the 2020 series would be any good given how faithful the 1978 show was, but by the time S1E1 Siegfried first pulls that mangled job list out of his pocket, I knew West understood the character, even if other details about the show had been changed.)

I feel like S5 took some steps backwards wrt Siegfried's relationships with Audrey and his brother. I hope S6 finally allows certain seeds to sprout & flourish (a relationship with Audrey, and greater trust in Tristan). That said, I also hope Siegfried doesn't soften too much - he still needs to be boisterous and ridiculous and have a certain kind of anger -- book!Siegfried could be a terror towards those who abused animals, and I'd like to see more of that.

What's interesting is both TV Siegfrieds took on the role in their 50s, when the book character is like... barely 30 in the first volume. West plays Siegfried more as in his 40s (fun for me, because I headcanon him as my age, so, 48 going into S6), but the age difference still shapes how I think of each version of the man.

Siegfried's traits - good and bad - come off different based on what age you perceive him as. I think the 2020 show's decision to have a 19 year age gap between the brothers is a brilliant way to address why Siegfried is so hard on Tristan, being somewhere between brother & surrogate father -- the closer in age the boys are (and they are not all that far apart in the books), the weirder that hostile disappointment wrt his exams and work ethic feels.

For me, 2020 series S1 Siegfried is my favorite. He's a great blend of cocksure, self-doubting, charming, off-putting, self-aware, and absolutely oblivious. His contradictions are one of my favorite things about him. But I don't really like pitting the TV Siegfrieds against each other -- both actors have given the source material the most utmost of love and respect, and it shows in their performances. I own both series on disc.

I think a lot of one's preference boils down to which Siegfried you meet at what point in your own life; after imprinting on book!Siegfried as a 10-year-old, the fact I'm knee-deep in writing trans!Siegfried fics for the 2020 series at age 48 probably says a lot about which one I feel the most like. XD

Honestly, my ideal version of the man is an amalgam of all 3 of his incarnations: He'd be mid-40s when we first meet him, and we'd see more of the mood range -- from Hardy's manic energy to West's more soulful touch and what they both brought in-between.

[chaifootsteps]

Viv liking tweets that 'Stolas likes the attention from Vassago he never got from Blitz' is just wild to me.

besides her potentially spoiling the story, again, it's so telling of Stolas' character

once again he doesn't actually love someone, just what they can do for him

but more to the point - what more does he want out of Blitz at this point?? Blitz has been literally bathing and babying him, letting him crash in his apartment, making him breakfast, hunting him down other food when he turns up his nose at the effort, stealing him a new wardrobe, giving him a job, cheerleading him when he messes up the job (and potentially his business) immediately, cuddling up with him on the couch, dancing with him, consoling him, etc.

All of that was over the course of two episodes and if he's realised Blitz is pretty bad with intimacy due to having so many exes at this point then he should know how big of a deal it is. (though knowing Stolas he didn't think anything more about it beyond 'this totally puts me in the right because Blitz is a bad person, why do I even like him')

what more attention could Stolas possibly want at this point?

the only thing I can even think Viv means is Blitz hasn't told Stolas he loved him. but it's not up to Stolas when Blitz says that, and Stolas sure hasn't said it to him (he's called him an idiot and a whole host of other things, but all he's said is he cares and has feelings, which isn't super specific). idk if there's a name for manipulating/guilting someone into saying the L word when they aren't ready, but Blitz shouldn't have to do it just to keep Stolas

it honestly looks like Viv thinks that nothing less than lovey dovey fawning affection is good enough for Stolas. and Stolas basically had that in Sinsmas - Blitz was hugging and cuddling with him, not trying to make out!

Stolas is just such a wildly selfish and self-centred character at this point and I don't think Viv realizes it. she acts like it's totally reasonable for Stolas to get exactly what he's supposedly wanted from Blitz all this time and then immediately decide that it's not good enough for him while simultaneously developing no empathy for Blitz living in poverty all this time while he's a financial burden on him

honestly all I want at this point is for him to end up alone so he can't guilt and be a drain on anyone else

Couldn't have said it better. After all of this hemming and hawing about how bad Blitzo is and what an inattentive partner, and suddenly he's everything Stolas has ever wanted and more. He's affectionate and giving to the point of being Stolas's live-in butler, literally Stolas's dream boyfriend, and it's still not enough because he didn't do it five minutes ago when Stolas decided he wanted it.

It's so selfish and stupid and cruel that it's hard to watch, and knowing Viv, almost certainly going to get worse.

[rootbeerrex]

@saedyne LET'S FUCKING GO SOMEOEN WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT IT THIS MEANS I HAVE PERMISSION TO BE UNHINGED ABOUT THEM LMAO ok so I wrote this whole post this morning and fun fact I was almost late to work bc I lost track of time while writing it BUT I WASN'T SO IT WAS FINE anyway. here it is.

jackbat nation how do we feel about a dana/dick b plot. I think it would be funny to make Tim's parental life worse. his ex-step mom who is still living with him + his adopted dad + bio dad who are co-parenting him starts dating his sort of older brother.

-they meet bc dick needs physical therapy after his gunshot wound in war games, and he can safely get it from her without identity questions bc she already knows. dick starts flirting with her almost instantly bc Vulnerability? no no no I must instantly cover it with my irresistible charm.

-Dana is unimpressed bc she's had patients like this before, and she can tell he's just trying to distract her from her job. it doesn't work. (plus she is still "on a break" so with Jack, and she is Loyal and wouldn't cheat on him)

-Eventually he finishes physical therapy but they keep hanging out together bc they became Genuine Friends, and they enjoy each other's company.

-then one day they come back from an outing with tim (they are his escape from all of Jackbats fighting) and walk in on Jackbat in a. questionable situation. Dana turns and walks right back out the door, and Jack runs after her being like "it's not what it looks like!!!! I'm not gay!!!!!" (Bruce audibly scoffs at that)

-dick rips the fuck into Bruce ("how fucking could you he is still MARRIED she was WAITING for him she never would've done this to him I can't believe you would destroy a marriage like this" "oh because you care about the sanctity of marriage so much. remind me, when was the last time you spoke to Emily?" "don't you fucking DARE talk to me about Emily" )

-Dana decides Ok You Know What Fuck You I was a good person I didn't cheat I was willing to stick it out for our relationship and give you time to work your shit out but you clearly don't care about us so we are over. I have better options anyway.

-Dana files for divorce and dick and Dana start dating

- jack's misogynistic ass is so jealous cause YEAH he said he didn't wanna be in a relationship anymore and he was already moving on but that doesn't mean he wants HER moving on >:(

-Bruce calls him out on this bullshit and says she's a grown woman who can do whatever she wants and then he privately pulls dick aside and is like "you're not doing this. stop. you're making everything worse. plus she's a civilian. you can't. this is stupid. I know you're only doing it bc you're mad at me about the way I handled things with Jack so you're trying to cause drama to prove a point." and so dick is ofc like "GOD Bruce not everything is ABOUT you sometimes I have my OWN thoughts and feelings about things ever think about THAT huh?????" and like. yeah it's not ALL about that. they genuinely like each other. but this conversation does for sure make him want to date her even harder just to spite him.

-tim is fucking miserable because Jack and Bruce are mad at each other, Bruce and dick are mad at each other, jack and dana are mad at each other, and dick and Jack are mad at each other. The two pairs that aren't beefing are dick and Dana because they're currently in the honeymoon stage of their relationship, and Bruce and Dana because Dana blames Jack for the cheating, not Bruce, and Bruce blames dick for Dana and dick dating. because he's totally normal about when grown women make their own choices.

anyway how do we feel about this? I know it's A Lot and there's really no canon basis for Dick and Dana but honestly I just think it would be really really funny. I tried to be pretty accurate with Dana's characterization but also she isn't very centered in the narrative while Jack is alive so it's hard to make sure I'm getting it right. if anyone has any critiques about her please let me know, I don't wanna get her wrong

+ this tag from @starcrossedconverse

I think I agree, I think they almost definitely won't end up together because this is a Deeply Unhealthy basis for a relationship and they'll both eventually realize that. tysm for the input <333

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Reader Having A Chronic Illness

Inspired By: @thatstonedwriter and their adorable fic Pain In The Ass (Butcher x Chronic Illness!Reader) Please go check it out! I absolutely love it!!! 💕

A/N: Butcher looks so good in that gif oml 🫣 Anyways lol I can only speak for my own issues when I say it's absolutely the most frustrating thing I've ever dealt with. I wanted to keep it vague enough so as many people as possible could relate instead of just for the stomach problem/joint pain/fever babes :P Not requested, but something that's been on my mind!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher, truthfully, worries a lot. Unlike Hughie, who has that worry written all over his face, Butcher is a lot more secretive about it. On the outside, he seems unbothered. Unfazed. When you finally admitted you're in a lot of pain and might not be able to take part in the mission, he gives you a "new" job back at the office that you can totally do from the couch under variously temperatured pads. Only a few times have you seen his mask of cool slip, especially when you were in serious pain/had to go the hospital. He didn't realize it was that serious, that it could get that serious. He might be hesitant to visit you, and does it out of the hours, but you'll wake up to him sitting next to you. He'll flip through a magazine like it's not shocking he's even there. He'll ask how you're feeling and get a nurse if you need one. He's awkward and at time hostile, but he really does mean to be thoughtful and affectionate. It just never comes out right.

Hughie, at first, kinda freaks out. Internally, of course. You can sense his panic, though. You assure him it comes in phases, in flare ups, and that eventually, hopefully, it will go into remission. You don't sugar coat it though. You want to be upfront about everything, even the more embarrassing symptoms like, for example, numerous trips to the bathroom. He's very attentive, even to things you don't even realize you're doing. He learns all your remedies and is quick to ask if you can handle xyz. He doesn't want to baby you, he makes that clear, but he can't imagine the pain you're in constantly and just wants to be there for you. Your favorite thing is when he sits with you and holds your hand or rubs your back. He'll watch TV and do research for the team and just be there for you. He knows there's not a lot that'll make you feel better, but being there for you is the least he can do, especially when nothing else is working.

Annie is a planner. She comes up with a plan for everything, especially if your health takes a turn for the worse. She's always there if you need anything. She carries her own pharmacy in her bag, not just for you, but there are all of your favorite remedies in there just in case. She doesn't make a big show if you need anything. She's always offering gum and mints and bandaids to everyone. Her rummaging around in her purse isn't too out of the norm. Like M.M. she does a lot of her own research and, like Kimiko, asks you a lot of questions. She wants to know what's typical pain and what's atypical. She worries about you, especially when you push yourself too hard thinking you're not good for the team unless you're useful. Everyone needs to rest regardless of illness or not. She'll invite you to watch a movie or listen to her Starlight House speech/plans as a sneaky way of getting you to rest with her. She knows you're not incapable, she just worries you're hurting yourself trying to prove your worth when everyone on the team already sees that worth, sees that they need you.

M.M. researches as much as possible. He wants to know what's wrong, what helps, what doesn't, the complications, everything. He knows you've got your own system, your own remedies, so he stocks up on everything you use and need and keeps it at his place/in his car so you don't have to worry. You try not to complain about it, to keep it to yourself, everyone in your life being less than enthusiastic when they listen, but he makes it known you can come to him no matter what. He's always checking in with you quietly, so as not to make a big deal about it, trying to make accommodations when you need them. You're thankful for him and his approach. He doesn't see you as your illness, rather a person with an illness that can come and go. He never puts limitations when you're feeling well unless you warn him otherwise. You swear Marvin is better than any doctor you've ever been to, since he recommends so many methods to ease your discomfort. He wants to stay well informed.

Frenchie wants to fix everything with food. It's how he shows his love. Especially if you have stomach issues, he'll stick to whatever diet or restrictions you need. He always some sort of extremely strong pain reliever that you only take when things get bad. He's always willing to listen to you and, of course, will accompany you to any doctors appointment. If you're in the hospital, he visits you every day. He makes it seem a lot less scary. Frenchie has a lot of pain from his scars and just life in general, so he completely understands when you're not up for something. He's extremely affectionate with his nicknames and never makes you feel bad for not being able to take part in missions. He loves nothing more than staying up and watching movies with you on especially painful days/nights. And he will defend you to anyone, especially friends and family, who say things like it's all in your head or it isn't that bad. Looooots of swearing at them in French, too.

Kimiko, like Frenchie, comes to your defense so fast is *almost* comical. Kimiko is signing angrily at ignorant doctors and friends who just don't understand, you or Frenchie translating for her. It really warms your heart. She is so gentle with you. She doesn't want to cause any more pain or harm than there already is. Whether it's a heating pad for your joints or a cool towel for your head, she places it so gently that you barely feel it. Kimiko loves the dark jokes you make about literally falling apart. It hurts her to see you in so much pain and discomfort. She asks you what it feels like so she can better understand. Because Kimiko heals so well, pain is different for her. She's always checking in with you, asking you how you're feeling. She doesn't make a big deal out of it, it's just regular small talk. You're thankful Kimiko makes it seem so normal whereas others would blow it out of proportion and make it this huge deal every time.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 41, part two

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)  (whole thing on AO3)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Nie Mingjue and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

Empathy continues, jumping to Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue's encounter in Nightless City. Once again, let's look at how we saw it the first time around.

In Episode 22, Nie Mingjue unwisely decided to do a stealth advance push on Nightless City, as if "stealth" and "Nie Mingjue" ever belonged in a sentence together. After his inevitable capture, Meng Yao rocks up and says hey.

We cut away to the battle outside and then come back inside where NMJ hits MY with a palm strike.

Meng Yao actually expresses anger for once, knocking NMJ over with a kick, and yelling at him for being rude in front of MY's new boss, Wen Ruohan.

NMJ comes after him again but Wen Ruohan gets involved and the fight turns into NMJ vs. WRH until Nie Mingjue is knocked out. He ends up on the floor surrounded by dead or unconscious Nie cultivators; we don't see, at this time, how they got that way.

(More behind the cut!)

In Episode 41: the encounter in front of Wen Ruohan starts the same way, but Meng Yao taunts Nie Mingjue, fondles his shoulder, and then kills a couple of his wingmen.

Meng Yao--Wen Yao?--has never looked better. He's still rocking Nie braids and Nie colors - with a nice snake pattern trimming his robe. I'd like to say this is evidence of his snakey nature, but the idea that snakes are bad and sneaky is a biblical concept, not a Chinese one.

Anyway the important thing about his look here is that his makeup is gorgeous and his demeanor is totally confident. Unfortunately I can't find the tumblr post that talks about his sassy ex-boyfriend energy in this scene, but it was a wise observation.

Nie Mingjue's sidekicks provoke Meng Yao into killing them - one by insulting the hall they're in, and the next by calling him 走狗-- literally "running dog," but Viki translates it as "lackey."

"Lackey" is a little insulting but it's basically a job description, whereas Meng Yao's reaction to being called "running dog" is more like the way people react to being called "boot licker" in English. I'm not saying it should be translated this way, however - feet have a whole lot of meanings across cultures. I think it could have just been translated "running dog" because by 41 episodes into this show, we have learned that calling someone a dog is rude and insulting, thank you Wen Chao.

Anyhoo, after Meng Yao kills the second dude he asks if anyone else wants to call him 走狗, and Nie Mingjue immediately does. Meng Yao just smiles and has his own lackeys bring Baxia, in a fancy box, to him.

Then he fondles the blade while explaining that he's been spending some quality time with it. Nie Mingjue watches helplessly, unwilling to beg but afraid of whatever's going to happen.

Meng Yao tells him that his Dad's sword was better than his, and asks him to guess how many times WRH will have to strike Baxia to break it. I'm saying "strike," but Viki translates it as "smack" and Netflix translates it as "spank," with questionable results. How many times WILL Wen Ruohan spank it, I wonder?

Meng Yao taunts him some more: Wen Ruohan broke NMJ's father's saber and sent it back to him, which caused him to die of anger. He says this while getting up in NMJ's space and putting on an expression of ecstacy.

NMJ hits him, since that's his solution to everything; Meng Yao gets mad and kicks Nie Mingjue to the floor. It's not clear to me why Meng Yao talks so much shit if he doesn't want to get hit.

Aftermath

The confrontation where Xichen protects Meng Yao is the same as episode 23, up to a point. Nie Mingjue wakes up in Lan Xichen's manly arms and has a moment of happiness before seeing Meng Yao standing by holding Baxia.

NMJ goes to attack him but Lan Xichen protects Meng Yao and explains his whole spying gig -- calling him A-Yao, which has gotta chap Nie Mingjue's ass.

Lan Xichen can block a blow from Baxia one-handed. Hot.

There's a nice parallel here, where Meng Yao uses Lan Xichen as a human shield, similar to Wei Wuxian using Lan Wangji to protect him from Fairy in Episode 34.

Wei Wuxian is, of course, way more handsy about it.

Meng Yao passive-aggressively tells Lan Xichen that he didn't explain his actions because that big meanie Nie Mingjue wouldn't have believed him anyway, and then he kneels in front of Nie Mingjue. That's as much as we got of that whole encounter, in Episode 23.

In Episode 41, after Meng Yao kneels, he explains his situation and said that he only said all that dickish stuff to Nie Mingjue to gain Wen Ruohan's trust, and he's sorry about hurting his feelings.

Nie Mingjue says how about you kneel to those dudes you killed.

Lan Xichen tells Nie Mingjue that yes, A-Yao did horrible things, but I believe that in his heart he… we don't hear the rest because Nie Mingjue interrupts by destroying a lantern, but we don't need to hear the rest because it's the same thing Lan Xichen says all the fucking time; it's become his core belief in the years since.

Meng Yao is surprised that it's the lantern that died and not him, but Nie Mingjue is in an impossible situation. Meng Yao has recruited Xichen so completely to his side that if Nie Mingjue wants to stay friends with LXC, he has to accept Meng Yao . You can see in his face that he knows he's beat.

Continued in part 3!

[shanastoryteller]

happy Halloween! something mdzs bruised fruit/ mdzs female!wwx/ spn wincest pls??

Sam is bleeding way too much and if Dean isn't careful, he's going to put them in a ditch before he can get them to the emergency room. "Will you slow down?"

He figures if the last thing he ever sees is the underside of Dean's chin, that's not the worst thing. The last time he died, he got to see Dean in his entirety, got to feel his arms around him instead of just his head against his brother's thigh while he breaks every traffic law ever invented, and a few that after tonight they'll pass through just for him. But beggars can't be choosers.

"Shut up," Dean says, one hand on the wheel and the other pressed to the bandage on Sam's side, like he doesn't think Sam's doing a good enough job of putting pressure on it. He's right, unfortunately.

The pain is dulling, which is a bad sign. Almost as bad as the fact he can't quite keep his brother in focus. He doesn't want to die. He still has to save his brother from his stupid deal. Then again, maybe this is how he does it. If he dies before the year is done, that could be the end of it. No alive little brother, no Dean going to hell. A fair enough trade as far as he's concerned.

if he could be certain it really would work that way, he'd take care of it himself. Gladly. He just doesn't think they'll be that lucky. Maybe it'll work as long as he's not the one to do it. Like an insurance payout.

Fuck, he hopes so. He doesn't want to leave his brother to burn.

"Do y'want my last words?" he asks, internally wincing at the way his words are slurring. Bad, bad sign.

"No!" Dean snaps, then risks a glance down at him. That's nice. He likes Dean's eyes. And his lips. His face in general, really, although he has particularly fond memories of his lips. "Do you have them prepared?"

"Wasn't prepared last time," he explains, mouth feeling numb. He's pretty sure the words come out sort of mushy. "Wasn't fair. Figured I should think about it."

"Jesus," Dean says, looking at the road again. Probably for the best. "No. You're not dying. Shut up."

He totally is. He knows what it feels like. He means to tell Dean that, but he passes out before he gets the chance.

~

He wakes up cold to the sound of beeping and knows where he is before he pries his eyes open. It's a hospital, as expected, and Dean is slumped in the chair next to his bed, also expected.

That he woke up at all wasn't expected, but it's not like he's complaining.

He watches Dean for a while, because it's not like there's anything better to do, and it's a favorite pastime of his anyway. He's changed his shirt, but he's still got blood on his jeans. There are lines of worry and stress carved into his face even in sleep, and dark circles under his eyes that means this is more succumbing to the inevitable rather than an active choice. Sam's not surprised. Dean's a master of sleeping at bedsides and he's much better at contorting himself into a sort of comfortable position with the furniture he has available when he does it on purpose. He's going to wake up with a crick in his neck that he'll complain about for the next two days at least.

Like he can hear Sam mocking him, his eyes flutter open, blinking twice before he seems to notice Sam watching him. He shoots upright and then his leg buckles and he has to hold onto the side table with a curse. Sam would be concerned except he knows damn well it's just that his leg's fallen asleep in that terrible position he was in, and he's laughing by the time Dean makes it over to him, sitting on the edge of his bed and leaning over him, each of his hands pressed on either side of Sam's head.

"It's not funny," he says, face too pale and eyes too wide.

Sam sobers, offering him a quirk of the lips in apology. It would have been funny a few months ago, but he supposes that was before he died in Dean's arms. There are new rules now. "I'm fine."

He's guessing, but he's pretty sure. He's not hooked up to anything fancy and he's not in the ICU. Blood loss kills, but if they took care of that and nothing important was nicked, they can probably bounce in a day or two.

"Sammy," he says, breathing too quickly. They're close enough to kiss, except if he tries that right now he thinks he's going to get punched.

"Do you want to hear my last words now?" he offers.

Dean closes his eyes. "No. Shut up."

"We really have to work on your vocabulary," he says. "It's not a big deal. I can say them twice."

"How about you just don't die?" he tries, and he clearly means for it to come out as growl but it's closer to a whine. "You can't do this to me, Sammy. Not again."

Yeah, well, passing the nightmare on to him because Dean couldn't deal with it hadn't exactly been his brother's most compassionate move. Now's not the time for that argument, so Sam says, "I love you."

Dean jerks back like he's the one that got punched, but Sam's already fisted his hand in the front of his brother's shirt in preparation for this exact reaction.

"You're a good brother," he continues. "I'm glad I got to spend my life with you."

His face crumples. "Sam."

"The last two are provisional on you not dying on me at the end of the year," he says. "Just so we're clear."

"That's what you would have said? At," he cuts himself off, not even able to say it after all this time.

"At Cold Oak?" he finishes. "Yeah." He shakes his head and Sam tugs him closer. He's not strong enough to actually move him, but Dean leans back into him anyway. Sucker. "They don't have to be last words, you know. They can just be three true things."

"Three true things, huh?" Dean says. Some of the frantic fear has left him, leaving behind something more tender, less painful.

Sam wonders if he'll ever be able to see that look of fear on his brother's face and not think of that moment Dean walked into the shit cabin in the middle of nowhere, of that moment he saw Sam alive again after leaving his corpse rotting on that piece of shit mattress.

He's going to be pissed about Dean selling his soul until the day he dies, but it's not like he doesn't get it.

"Yeah," he says, then tilts his head up and capturing Dean's bottom lip between his teeth, coaxing him into a kiss that's going to set off the heart monitor if they're not careful.

He really hopes Dean used aliases with different last names this time.

[bonefall]

Is there any one particular bit in Ivypool's heart that really stands out concerning wanting to tackle it in BB (be it lovingly or with violence)?

I'll do you two; a loving tackle and a violent tackle!

VIOLENT TACKLE:

Dovewing and Ivypool do NOT have a good relationship in BB, and furthermore, I absolutely refuse to let Ivypool be a healthy and well adjusted individual at this point in her life. ABSOLUTELY not. The Erins have dropped a raw steak at my feet and given me an opportunity to display BB!Ivypool's Dovewing Derangement Syndrome on full blast and I am shaking it like Whistlepaw shakes a newborn baby.

I was really craving someone on this journey not being patient with Ivypool, and seeing her act unreasonably on her pain and loss.

I wanted to see her get nasty with someone, and have them fight back. I wanted to see someone get angry that she was insensitive towards them when they've ALL gone through similar things. It kinda felt like everyone on this journey was there to give Ivypool therapy, not work out their issues as a group.

For BB, I also want to give Dovewing and Ivypool some soft moments of mutual understanding, but... in the end, they do not reconcile because Dovewing does not want to.

And that's okay.

Ivypool will think she NEEDS her sister and her acknowledgement to move on, to have her accept an apology (which, truthfully, Ivypool doesn't entirely believe in) because it's SOME kind of closure when she won't get that with Bristlefrost... but she doesn't.

Moving on and healing is about the life you make in the wake of that loss. It's not Dovewing's responsibility to give her sister what she craves, it's up to Ivypool to make meaning in her own life. It's about the friends she will find, the wide world there is to discover, and the ways she can make things better for the Clans in Bristlefrost's name.

Even when the bridge is burned... the river still runs.

(As a side note, I've also TOTALLY gotta work in a moment where Ivy and Dove come across their mom, Cinderheart, while she's out traveling with their aunt/stepmom Fallenleaf. This is the perfect opportunity for Ivypool to let out a bunch of anger she has towards them, but also have them get a little involved in the new supernatural stuff!)

Special mention to the Sisters stuff; in BB they are not Evil Neglectful Bad Moms Who Hate Men. Beach and Slate will be tweaked. I am already imagining a scene where Rootspring gets to have a Cool Older Brother moment and show off some cool tricks he figured out with his talisman.

(in BB, the male sisters don't genetically inherit the ability to see ghosts, they have a special necklace crafted for them that lets them call spirits without the need of a large group.)

(Slate also will not be needing a rename, because Slate DOTC has a full name now-- Slate Keeper. I'm still working on her, but she's essentially The Wind Runner's secretary.)

POSITIVE TACKLE:

DEFINITELY the "River of Souls," along with StormClan and the Wildcats. I'm still wary of the Wildcats and the way the Erins could possibly dip into some weird "genetic superiority" stuff in the future, but they actually did a pretty good job introducing them!

I love the way that Wildcat religion is essentially that everything is connected by three elements, and that their unique belief system allows them to travel between afterlives. I adore this so much that I'm going to start thinking of the various "afterlives" in BB as having a primary element which influences how they behave.

Silverpelt and Skypelt are primarily Wind-Element systems. This makes them mobile and powerful, but highly subjected to the whims of the living.

The Tribe of Endless Hunting is primarily a Water-Element system. It's a very present element, flexible and easy for individuals to access while also allowing spirits to interact with the mortal plane.

The Guardian's Firmament is primarily an Earth-Element system. They require setup and investment on behalf of their followers, in return for giving worshippers a very powerful and intimate connection to the land.

All afterlives contain a mix of elements, but have "affinities." I also immediately saw a juicy opportunity to introduce the idea that Wildcats dance around addressing "fire" as an element, considering it forbidden, or at the very least, wild and unpredictable.

One Eye, who created the Dark Forest as a curse, is a God of Summer. So the Place of No Stars is absolutely a Fire-Element-- and I'm going to keep it loose until I understand what that looks like better. I want to save a little bit of wiggle room for future Wildcat appearances.

I'm also warming up to the idea that the Sisters have some Wildcat influence. I'm probably going to adjust their lore a bit to make them a mixture of Tribe culture and Wildcat culture. I've got a budding idea that, because Wildcats are rare and their population is scattered, they have a sort of concept of like... "Making A Home Where You Are," no matter where that is, or what culture they become part of.

So I like the idea a lot that this "river" is part of that. They maintain a connection to each other, across distances. The Guide of a Wildcat kitten is their mentor, both in terms of spiritual and physical training.

I'll also be needing a new name for this rework. Part of me really wants to call it "Ivypool's Loss," both for the angle of grief and also for the meme lmao. But, "Ivypool's Catharsis" also works very nicely... and if I go with "Ivypool's Awakening" the abbreviation is IPA and I can make beer jokes.

[wcbblife]

can I make a request for juju Watkins? Maybe her taking care of reader/her gf who is also her teammate after reader has a bad game? Thank you!

Juju taking care of reader after bad game!

a/n: hopefully I can dish out some more short stories like this for you guys

To say you were having a bad game would be a gross understatement. Nearly all your shots bounced off the rim, teasing you as they rolled around before falling into your opponent's hands. It felt like every attempt ended in the same frustrating result. You could only imagine how abysmal your shooting percentage was today.

Adding insult to injury, just after the second half started, you took an elbow to the face, causing your nose to bleed instantly. Despite this, your coach was adamant about keeping you in the game. This combination of factors spelled disaster, but apparently not to her.

Now, you were counting down the minutes until the end of this miserable game, eager to retreat to the locker room and remove the cotton pads shoved into your nose to stop the bleeding.

You felt terrible watching Juju carry the team on her back to secure the win for the Trojans. Normally, you two were a formidable duo, averaging impressive numbers against opponents. Yet today, you were practically invisible on the court.

“Hey! Listen to me!” Your coach yelled in the middle of the huddle. “Juju and Mack have done a great job securing the win for us, but that doesn't mean we can slack off! You need to start making some shots.” She turned to you, putting you on the spot. You tried your hardest to nod, tilting your head back as a staff member swapped out the blood-soaked cotton in your nose.

“Coach, I think you should put Kayla in. She's a hot mess right now,” Juju interjected, seeing you preoccupied with your own problems. “Just until the game ends.”

“Kayla's in foul trouble. One more and she's out.”

“She's bleeding,” Juju fired back, taking a big gulp of water. “She shouldn’t even be here.”

“Juju, we’re short on players,” your coach responded, scribbling something on the board.

“Then Kayla better not foul,” Juju said sharply, shooting a look towards the guard, who straightened up and nodded fervently. It was clear she had been waiting all game for a chance to play, and you weren’t going to stand in her way.

“Just do it,” you winced, tapping the hands of the medical staff who were inserting another cotton swab into your nose. You couldn’t believe it was still bleeding. “Put her in.”

“Alright,” your coach sighed, finishing her explanation of the play she wanted to run after the timeout. You relaxed, finally turning to face the staff.

The rest of the game flies by in a blur, your focus consumed by the throbbing pain in your head. You only realize it’s over when Juju comes to help you into the locker room, her strong arm around your waist.

“Thanks,” you mutter, sounding a bit nasal, as she sets you down on your designated bench.

Juju tilts your head towards her, examining your nose. “You might've broken it, babe.”

“I sure hope not,” you wince, gingerly touching the area. “Thanks for what you did back there.”

“Of course,” Juju says, sitting next to you and throwing her arm around your shoulder.

“And for carrying the load. I totally sucked today,” you chuckle.

“Don't even say that. It wasn’t your fault at all.” 

“Yeah, except for me throwing bricks the entire first half. I don't even want to see the stat sheet,” you shiver just thinking about it.

Juju pulls you closer, “You're being too hard on yourself. Plus, it always feels good to be the hero,” she says, puffing out her chest with mock confidence.

“Right. Well, anyway—”

“Hey! You have media to take care of.” Suddenly, a staff member interrupts, practically separating you two. “Just you, Juju.

“I'll be right there,” she calls out, then turns to you. “Go ahead and ice that. We'll talk more when I get back.”

“Alright,” you nod, watching her go before turning to tend to your injury.

_____

It's not until you get on the bus that you finally get Juju all to yourself. She finds you in your usual spot, a familiar corner of the bus, and walks over with a loopy smile, sleepiness already starting to take over.

“Hey,” she calls softly, setting her bags down and taking a seat next to you. “Sorry I took so long.”

“I hate having to share you,” you joke, but you don’t miss the sigh that escapes Juju's lips.

“I know, babe.” She gently pulls your head to rest on her shoulder. “You need some rest though.”

“I want to talk to you,” you insist, despite the fatigue weighing on you.

Juju cups your jaw, a bit awkwardly due to your position, but her touch is comforting. “I’ll sleep over,” she promises, her voice soft and reassuring.

That simple assurance is all it takes for your eyelids to grow heavy. You let yourself be lulled to sleep by the gentle hum of the bus engine, feeling the warmth of Juju’s presence beside you.

 Juju’s hand strokes your hair lightly, a soothing rhythm that helps you relax even more. Her soft breathing, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, and the warmth of her body next to yours provide a sense of peace you desperately needed after such a shitty game. 

_____

“Gosh, I’m gonna look so bad tomorrow,” you wince, poking at your nose.

Juju shuffles in from the room next to the bathroom, her sleepy eyes locking with yours through the mirror. “Babe, you’ll be fine,” she assures you, handing over your toothbrush. She squeezes out some toothpaste before grabbing the other brush you always kept there for her, and does the same.

“What if it looks like a tomato?” you ask, staying motionless as you imagine the worst.

Juju finishes at the sink and wraps an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes in the mirror again. “I’ll help you ice it. But you have nothing to worry about. You’ll still look sexy to me,” she says with a loopy, pasty grin, pushing the toothbrush closer to your mouth.

“You promise?”

She nods, “Yup, but I really need you to brush your teeth.” You follow her lead, brushing until your breath feels minty fresh.

“C’mere,” she says, pulling you by the waist and guiding you both to the bed. Your bodies slot perfectly against each other, fitting together almost naturally. She pulls the blankets over you both, cocooning you in warmth.

Juju's fingers trace gentle patterns on your back as she speaks, her voice soft and soothing. “You know you’re being too hard on yourself. Today was just one game.”

You sigh, the day's stress beginning to melt away in her arms. “I know, it’s just… I hate feeling like I let everyone down.”

“You didn’t let anyone down. We win as a team, we lose as a team,” she reminds you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And besides, you’ve got me. Always.”

You close your eyes, feeling the comfort of her touch and the steady rhythm of her breathing. 

“Let’s get some sleep,” she murmurs, her voice growing softer as she too begins to drift off. 

You nod, snuggling closer and allowing the exhaustion to finally take over. The last thing you feel is Juju’s hands pulling you closer.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 23

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Scar's pov*

The day is so close, too close, you checked everything multiple times, you asked Cub to check everything multiple times, you have never been this focused before. The association called you to tell you to relax, they have never done that ever... But you can't, It's not only your reputation on the line but it's Grian's too.

You want to make sure the invites are sent to the right people but Cub tells you he has already done that... You asked him if he was sure, he told you to sleep... you should probably do it but everytime you try the anxiety kicks in and you can't drit off.

In the end you do go outside to fight crime since It's your job and is also strangely relaxing but you still think about it, you can't help it, It's the first time something like this has happened and you don't know how things will go... It's scary. What if they don't like Cuteguy? He can be sarcastic but he's a good guy, he doesn't deserve to be hated if things go wrong. What if they stop liking you? You haven't worked this hard for this to be how you get fired.

You also make sure to check that It's not going to last too long, you don't want to talk for that long, short and funny you can do easily but long? That's just making it easy for the dyslexia to make you say something bad and Grian doesn't seem like the one to talk a lot about himself ... In general the less the two of you have to talk to the crowd the better....Cub must understand, surely, Cuteguy's inaguration needs to be perfect and nothing and you mean nothing can go wrong.

You will make sure of it.

*Grian's pov*

You can't wait for everything to go wrong, if Grumbot is as smart as you think he is, which is likely considering you are the perfect judge of character you know, then this is going to be fun.

You...well, you really don't think you could have lasted all that time doing nothing...much less give a speech, what would you even say?

"Thank you"? That's boring and weird.

"I would like to thank my parents and friends"? Too cliché and also weird in this context.

You will make sure nobody dies of course, that would be a pretty bad thing and also potential for a lawsuit but you'll definitely make a scene out of it otherwise...

In other news, Hotguy is scarce, you rarely see him in the building...which is weird considering how eye-catching is the color combination of neon blue and highlighter orange. The stress of organizing must be getting to him because his eyebags are pretty dark.

He runs back and forth a bunch and you do feel kinda guilty about planning to mess it up but at the same time... Well...uhh...You don't really have a justification actually, you just think this will be better. You'll make sure It's not going to go too wrong.

Eventually you decide to force him to calm down, you know that all this preparation will be useless anyway and his stress is somehow having the novel and unexpected effect of making you stressed with what can only be described as the emotional version of osmosis... Also known as empathy, a word which you totally did not forget.

And so plan, you lure him in with his favourite maple syrup and once he is distracted you force him to sit down.

"Hotguy"

"G-Grian? Why-"

"You have been doing too much... everything, you need to do less"

"But-"

"No buts"

"..."

"It's my inauguration and you have already done enough...do you think the association is going to rely on you alone to plan?"

"But-"

"What did I say about buts?"

The urge to make a joke there was so so strong but you stayed silent.

"..."

"Listen, I appreciate it Scar but all this moving around is making me very antsy... You also look like you need sleep desperately."

He fidgets in response, It's kinda pathetic really.

"Oh I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize"

He shuts his mouth immediately.. at least he's good at listening. Hopefully this intervention will work at...well, intervening.

"Ok!"

"So, you better stay here and relax Scar... before I force you to do so."

He looks worried about that, he goes red from worry which you didn't know was possible.

"But- right, no buts...sorr- I mean not sorry!"

"... Understood?"

"Understood."

He's still red, you are a bit confused by that but you decide to not question and leave him to do the resting.