#he's ok now HE'S FINE IT'S ALL GOOD IN HINDSIGHT

[fryday]

i keep having an inner battle with myself about saying things that might be considered inappropriate in the context of phil's Very Scary Potentially Life-Threatening Emergency Situation but it must be said. it just must. that phil looked very hot in his photo to dan to tell dan he was okay. now i will vanish forever

[spotlightlowlife]

Leave aces the hell alone

if you haven't realised, the title's a pun, there's a little jest but just a little

If this show wants to sex, ships and 'it's complicated' to be it's main focus to the point of drowning out the plot and stripping away the tiny nuisance it once had, OK, can't speak for myself but enough people seem to be enjoying things this way.

But leave the aces out of it.

Let's not pretend they're not vilified for existing, having a life and interests.

The "cockblocking" child whose rare screentime takes away from her daddies mlm proship, simply for daring to want her dad to follow through on their plans

and the 'ugly who nobody wants to fuck' (particularly trashy statement since he's ace and doesn't want to fuck neither) fat guy who runs a business but working for him (or just working) takes away from the other leading mlm ship. He's pretty much a banker too, we all hate them don't we?

Factor in that Stella and Striker 'wouldn't attend' pride parade so were excluded, dispite being highly relevant characters who we have seen a number of times (unlike Stella's bro and the red birdman yet to be introduced).

One comically called out all the sex a few times and the other is a victim of child marriage made to become a teenage mother yet managed a totally unheard of, social life.

Like Octavia and Mammon, both seem to have interests and some major purpose in the plot, dispite being side characters.

Like Mammon and Octavia, both get in the way of a leading mlm ship, dispite being side characters.

Like Octavia and Mammon, they have good reasons fo their interactions.

Yet alas, homophobia is implied for Stella and Striker, then ace is branded on Mammon and Octavia, the 'perfect explanation' for them to be a problem., only aces generally be minding their own business yet catch strays from those who feel judged by that one lack of common interest. Sex is used as a solution, a power and a major part of the personality within the helluverse so yes, it matters that these characters who have other things going on and get in the way of 'romance' have their own orientation, lack of or apparent dislike of put on blast.

I personally find the shipping very shallow and don't believe the LGBTQ rep is any good in this show, the best rep easily being Moxxie who was an ordinary someone dating another ordinary someone who hurt him, who happened to be another guy, no somehow rubbing shoulders with powerful but neutered or retconned immortal royalty and then becoming 'the one', just an ordinary shitty relationship between a well meaning person and a user that was a mistake in hindsight, now this latest relationship is (Millie's character is Moxxie's fangirl) just fine.

Aces should be easy to represent simply by letting them exist! Be their own personality without the need for someone else to fill in the other half slot, but no, bad representation from those who can't fathom the not caring for sex or sexual relationships has to worm it's way into something that should literally be nothing.

Dare a child whose orientation or lack of we don't even need to know, who seems reasonable want to see the stars with her dad, an interest he clearly instilled in her. The greedy entrepreneur acts a greedy entrepreneur, in other news bears shit in the woods. Both these pest third wheels share something in common? Not gonna to get it?

If only these picked on characters hadn't been used to represent already picked on asexuals, there would pretty much just be the bland female sexual representation to critique.

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Eight

IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm posting both chapters 7 and 8 today so just make sure you didn't actually miss 7 or this one might not make much sense, lol. Also I'd recommend having chapter 7 fresh in your mind when you read this one. This chapter serves as an 'interlude' chapter that occurs before/during/after Chapter 7 but is told from Dave and Marcus' POV's (not Reader's). One final note, a page break/divider indicates a shift of POV to another character, but hopefully that comes across easily enough in the writing anyway.

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 5.1k

Notes: Who gave me the right to put all this ANGST in my PORN story? dw, I have a couple more chapters planned out, I'll fix this mess I've created eventually :P

Chapter Warnings (BIG TIME spoilers in the warnings... I'd recommend skipping them if you don't want to be spoiled. If you're at this point in this story, you're fine with whatever I have left to throw at you lol): 18+ MDNI. M/M (Yeah that's right. Reader who? Sorry babe, I'll make it up to you next time!). Oral sex. Hand jobs. Anal play. A shower stall is our 3rd main character in this chapter. Inexperienced!Marcus. Dom!Dave. Daddy Kink. Derogatory talk. Praise kink. Little sprinkling of Soft!Dave. Porn with too many feelings that these idiot men don't know what to do with (we'll work on them, ok?). Infidelity-ish (again, these three got some shit to work out).

MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board.

Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics

When restfulness fails to come for Dave he eventually decides to pull himself away from the two sleeping forms next to him in the bed and head off to the shower instead. He could use a thorough washing, and not to mention the relaxing spray and solace of the shower may just offer him a bit of a chance to clear his head, hopefully.

Letting out a heavy sigh once he reaches the bathroom near the front entryway of the suite he shrugs off the oversized fluffy hotel robe and hangs it on the back of the door before closing it shut, reaching inside the shower stall and turning the temperature up to near scalding. He hisses the moment he steps inside the large enclosure, immediately turning his back to the water and facing the door instead but within a few seconds the temperature starts to feel perfect and he rolls his shoulders and aching muscles under the steady beat of the massaging spray.

“Fuck” he groans, head tilting back to let the water wash over his face and through his hair. In hindsight he maybe should’ve had a cold shower because he’s been rocking a semi for the last… god knows… since not long after his two bedmates had fallen asleep. He resists the urge to wrap his fist around himself and take care of it solo, thinking he can will it away with sheer mental focus instead. As if he could focus on much of anything right now. His mind was scrambled, and that just wasn’t Dave. He had an innate ability to compartmentalize, always had. It’s what made him so good at his job and had gotten him through many obstacles in his life thus far. But then he met fucking Marcus Pike, which ultimately, also led him to you, and now here he was playing fucking house with what was meant to be a one or two time fun “hookup” and goddamit if he didn’t feel himself starting to fall. What’s worse is that he hadn’t just fallen for you, either. Annoyed with himself yet again for not being able to shut his brain off, Dave turns around to face the spray again and gets to the task of washing his hair instead, needing something else to focus on besides the insistent need that’s hanging between his legs.

The quiet ‘snick’ of the bathroom door latching shut catches Dave’s attention, even with his head under the hot spray of the water in the oversized walk-in shower, because of course it does. Dave is always super aware and hyper vigilant, even when in a relaxed environment. His eyes squeezed shut as he rinses the shampoo from his hair and back turned to the door he calls out, “it’ll be all yours in a minute, almost done here”

So when he hears the sound of the glass door sliding open and the cool air hitting his back, despite his offer to give up the shower momentarily, he chuckles. A low, raspy laugh from deep in his throat as he pushes his hair back on his head and finally turns around, his eyebrow raising in amusement as his gaze settles on his unexpected visitor standing just outside the shower door.

“Well, what have we here?”

Marcus doesn’t say a word. Too nervous he’ll psyche himself out if he attempts to speak. Instead he unwraps the towel from around his waist, leaving him fully naked and exposed, and tosses it to the ground behind him before stepping inside the enclosure and sliding the glass door shut behind him.

Dave waits, stock still, because he hadn’t been expecting this. Not that he should be too surprised, he supposed. It was probably bound to happen and truth be told he was far from mad about it. Over time he’d grown to care for Marcus a lot, and more than what he knew was realistic for a ‘friendship’. And with the fondness for Marcus growing so did the sexual tension, he supposed. It wasn’t immediate, as he had felt with you, but as he spent more and more time with both of you Marcus had unknowingly carved out a spot for himself under Dave’s skin, just as you had on that very first night he’d met you. It started out slowly, he would feel his own arousal spike watching Marcus get pleasure but he had chalked that up to being natural, not unlike getting off to watching porn. But then it started to change, and Dave began to wonder what it might be like for him to give Marcus that pleasure and earlier this evening he gave in and did exactly that. Holding his hands around Marcus as the younger man submitted to him and came with Dave’s mouth at his ear nearly had Dave spilling inside of you the moment Marcus let go. He loved hearing the sweet cries from Marcus’ perfect pouty lips as Dave held him tight to his naked chest. And the way you looked up at both of them, pure lust and adoration in your gaze he felt his chest constrict around his heart like it might just explode.

In that moment he wanted to just gather you both in his arms and tell you, beg you, to keep him.

And now, here Marcus stood just inches away from him, naked and vulnerable.

Dave was well and truly fucked.

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat from his nerves, Marcus carefully, slowly and wordlessly sinks to his knees in front of Dave and pauses. Peering up at him with those honeyed brown eyes, silently begging for whatever had come over him to be reciprocated. He’d woken up when he felt the weight under the mattress shift when Dave had gotten up and watched with more focus than what was probably considered appropriate at the back side of Dave’s naked form as he crossed the room and snagged a robe from the back of the door and threw it on. Marcus had to stifle a groan as he felt his cock instantly begin to swell at just the sight of the slightly older man before him. Once he exited the bedroom Marcus let out a sigh and dropped his head back to the pillow with a heavy thud, closing his eyes and focusing his breathing for a few seconds but still, his dick betrayed him. He rolled over to his side and watched your sleeping form, debating whether he should wake you to help him with his little situation or not but quickly dismissed the notion. He knew you must be exhausted, it wasn’t like you to be sleeping in the middle of the day so clearly you were worn out. Plus he’s pretty sure the actual reason for his current state of arousal just walked out the bedroom door anyway.

He lays in bed for as long as he can stand it, until he hears the shower come to life on the other side of the suite and his cock twitches again involuntarily, his mind conjuring up images of Dave naked and letting the hot spray of the water cascade all over his body and suddenly Marcus feels jealous over a fucking shower head of all things. Before long he finds himself getting up and out of bed, quickly tying a discarded towel around his waist before he leaves the bedroom and makes his way through the suite.

A grin spreads across Dave’s lips as the hot water continues to beat down his back and he reaches a hand forward, gripping the younger man’s jaw in his hand and angling him further upward as his thumb gently caresses back and forth at his cheek as he rasps out, “Well what are you waiting for, Champ? This cock isn’t going to suck itself”

After taking in a quick deep breath to steel his nerves, Marcus, ever obedient, presses forward. His eyes close as he takes Dave’s semi-hard length into his mouth, his lips wrapping around him as he finds his footing, as it were, never having actually done this before.

“Eyes on me Slugger” Dave tuts, hand going underneath Marcus’ chin and forcing his gaze upwards with the flick of a single knuckle. Marcus’ gaze is weak as he tries desperately to hold Dave’s but when he feels Dave begin to grow and swell against his tongue he gets a newfound confidence and can’t help the low moan that leaves his throat as he envelops him further into his mouth and finally begins to move his tongue and lips around him, licking and sucking and tasting every inch offered to him. He may not know exactly what he’s doing, but he does know what feels good to him and tries his best to mimic those same behaviors.

He pulls off for just a moment, collecting saliva in the back of his throat and messily spitting onto Dave’s length before he wraps his mouth around it again and begins to bob his head back and forth, letting his tongue drag along the underside as he swallows him down the best he can, easing off only slightly when the thick head of him nears too far to the back of his throat and causes him to momentarily gag before he resituates himself to a comfortable feel and can enthusiastically continue.

“Fuck, that’s it. Good boy,” Dave sighs, hand pushing through Marcus’ golden brown locks and a little whimper escapes Marcus at the subtle praise, eyelids fluttering shut for only a moment before he remembers Dave’s words from earlier and opens them again to hold Dave’s gaze. “You suck cock almost as good as your wife, you know that pretty boy?” Dave teases and despite himself, it only turns Marcus further on. He takes one hand and wraps it around the base of Dave’s cock to pump as much as his shaft that won’t fit in his mouth while the other hand goes to his own aching need as he begins stroking himself to the same pace that his head bobs.

“Fuck” Dave curses again, a little breathless this time as his head tilts back into the spray of water. He wraps his hand around the back of Marcus’ head and helps him by setting the pace that he wants, fast and rough and nearly hitting the back of Marcus’ throat each time his hips jut forward. Marcus does his best to take him but before long he’s coughing, sputtering, gagging and gasping for breath as he pulls off of him after just a few short seconds of Dave fucking his throat, a long strand of saliva still connecting him to the now rock hard cock in his face and Dave lets out a little chuckle at Marcus’ obvious inexperience.

“Well, maybe you could learn a thing or two” Dave laughs. “Up,” he commands suddenly, hand gripping under Marcus’ bicep and hauling him quickly to his feet. Marcus goes willingly, all too eager to comply as Dave turns him to face the wall, grabs both of his hands and forces them above his head and flat against the warm tiles. Dave quickly crowds his space, stepping up behind him, the hot, hard length of him pressed right up against Marcus’ lower back.

His breathing laboured, Marcus tenses momentarily but then relaxes as he feels a large wet hand slide down his side, across the smooth skin of his hip and lower still until it ghosts over the globes of his ass and then back up to hold firmly at his hip again as Dave leans forward, breath hot against Marcus’ ear.

“Colour?” He asks and Marcus takes a steadying breath.

“Green. Uh… green. I - I think” he stammers out nervously. Dave hums before his hand snakes forward to grasp around Marcus’ hard, leaking cock and gives it a light squeeze that has Marcus whimpering.

“I’d say you’re doing just fine” Dave taunts before he languidly strokes Marcus a few times, causing his knees to nearly buckle as a desperate whine escapes his lips.

“I’m uh.. I’ve never.. with…” Marcus trails off, his eyes squeezing shut when Dave gently ruts into his back, his hand still slowly stroking him. “H-Have you?”

“When you’re young and in your prime and stuck in the service for twelve plus months at a time, a warm mouth is a warm mouth” Dave shrugs nonchalantly. “But it’s not something I indulged in often, or ever pursued outside of that environment” he adds, still slowly working Marcus over with shallow pumps of his fist. “Truth be told I’ve never looked at or even thought twice about another man. That is, until you”. He finishes the last part quietly, like it's a secret he can’t voice out loud.

“S-same here” Marcus stutters, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on his breathing, hoping to stave off his orgasm for at least a little while longer. “Did you ever, ah fuck” Marcus groans, trailing off as his train of thought leaves him when Daves hand comes up to pay special attention to the head of his cock, his hand twisting just right over and over again at the sensitive tip.

“Did I ever what? Hmmm?” Dave taunts, hand stilling around Marcus as he lowers his hips slightly and presses further against him, his stiff length now pressing into the meat of Marcus’ asscheek. “Did I ever fuck a man’s tight little asshole?” He asks into the shell of Marcus’ ear and Marcus shudders before biting back a moan and nodding his head.

“No” Dave answers honestly. “Why, did you want to be the first?” He chuckles, rutting into him and Marcus lets out a stuttering gasp before shaking his head against the tiles.

“I don’t think… I’m not… No. I… I don’t know” Marcus answers helplessly, his shoulders tensing.

“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, pulling his hips back slightly but resting his forehead on Marcus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to be ready for that right now. And to be honest, if my cock is going to be in your ass then I want yours inside your wife so I can fuck you both at the same time” he chuckles darkly into the heated skin of Marcus’ back and a shiver passes through Marcus’ whole body at just the thought of that.

“Oh you like that don’t you” Dave laughs again. Feeling Marcus twitch in his hand gets Dave’s dominant confidence swelling in his chest again and he easily slips into the role he prefers to play, where he feels the most comfortable and less vulnerable.

“Wanna be the meat in our little fuck sandwich, sweet boy?” Dave taunts, his hand going back to slowly stroking Marcus again. “You gonna fuck your tight little ass against my fat cock while you’re buried inside of her?”

“Jesus, fuck” Marcus groans. He’d never once judged his wife for what she was into, but now he understood it first hand. The way Dave could have you falling apart just by the words that leave his mouth.

“Maybe a little friendly competition, see who can cum inside of who first” he laughs darkly and Marcus’ whole body shudders as a wrecked moan escapes him.

Dave hands picks up the pace a little as Marcus squeezes his eyes shut, face resting against his own forearm and teeth clenched as Dave draws him closer and closer to that edge he’s been teetering on since he sunk to his knees in front of the man in question just minutes ago.

He didn’t know what came over him, what possessed him to get out of bed and follow after Dave, but he couldn’t get what happened earlier out of his head. The way Dave had wrapped his hand around his throat, called him his good boy, and made him cum so hard his vision nearly blacked out. He needed more. Dave was like a drug, he understood it now. An addiction, a craving that could never be satisfied, always leaving you wanting more.

His breath catches in his throat when he feels Dave’s free hand that’s not currently wrapped around him back at his ass, a single finger sliding through the cleft of his wet cheeks until it stops to tease at his hole. The pad of his finger presses at the puckered flesh but doesn’t breach inside, just wanting to rile Marcus up and it is absolutely working as the younger man whimpers and squirms under Dave’s hands. Dave shifts slightly so that the water beats down more so on Marcus, ensuring he’s not dry as Dave continues to tease him.

“Colour” Dave demands again, finger pressing in again with just a fraction more pressure than the previous time.

“Green, fuck. Please” Marcus is trembling, his body leaning against the wall the only thing holding him upright and he feels the smirk reach across Dave’s face from where his mouth is still pressed to his ear.

“That’s my good boy” Dave chuckles. The sound of Dave spitting a giant glob of saliva between Marcus’ cheeks is downright sinful as it echoes off the four walls of the shower enclosure and Marcus has to bite into the meat of his own arm to keep from moaning too loudly when Dave finally pushes a single saliva slicked finger just inside as he continues to stroke Marcus’ length with delicate precision.

“Oh my god, oh fuck! I’m - ” Marcus cries out at the welcomed intrusion of Dave’s finger, barely inside but slowly moving back and forth creating just enough of a foreign pressure that it’s enough to push Marcus over that edge within seconds. He orgasms with a wrangled cry leaving his lips, spurts of his warm spend splattering onto the tiles in front of him and down Dave’s hand that still loosely grips him as he continues to pump him dry.

“That’s it” Dave’s voice soothes against his ear, still gently working him over with both hands as Marcus comes down from his high. “So good for your Daddy, hmmm?”

“Mmmhmmm, fuck” Marcus groans out once more, leaning heavily into the tiles now, shoulders and chest heaving with each laboured breath he takes. He lets out another whimper as Dave gently slips his finger out, sighs happily when he feels Dave’s lips press into his shoulder blade.

“Okay?” Dave breathes against Marcus' warm flesh, checking in with him and the younger man can do little but eagerly nod his head, still trembling in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Dave’s hand still wrapped around Marcus’ length finally slows to a stop and he releases him fully, both arms coming up to wrap around Marcus’ middle and hold him tight against his chest for a long moment and Marcus sighs happily, sated, leaning into the warmth Dave offers. He does his best to ignore the little flutter he feels in his chest as Dave's lips continue to pepper little kisses across the back of his neck and shoulders, wills his own heart to stop hammering in his chest when Dave breathes in deep and then rests his check against Marcus' back, apparently content to just hold him until his own breathing evens out.

“What um… what about you?” Marcus asks meekly. He hadn’t exactly gotten to finish what he’d started earlier once the attention shifted to him and his own pleasure. He can still feel Dave pressed into his back, though with the delay for his own gratification Dave has softened somewhat again, his needs seemingly less urgent now.

“Let me finish getting cleaned up in here and then why don’t we meet back in bed, hmm?” He finishes his thought with a sharp little smack to Marcus’ ass and chuckles before he bites down gently onto his shoulder. “See if you can wake up that wife of yours while you’re at it”

“Yeah, o-okay” Marcus stammers, stealing himself for a moment before he heaves a deep sigh, lets his shoulders relax and finally reaches for the shower door and slides it open. Dave lets him go, watches with piqued interest as Marcus bends over to pick up his earlier discarded towel and secure it back around his waist again, and then, he’s gone. Door closing shut behind him again and leaving Dave to finish his shower in privacy.

Dave is doing his best to act nonchalant, normal, though nothing about what just took place was normal for either of them. He’d never held another man in an embrace like that before and found himself not even wanting to let go. It took everything in him not to spin Marcus around and hold him even closer. And it wasn’t just sexual, this feeling he suddenly had. Though that part was definitely good too, but now he felt himself feeling suddenly nervous about going back out there, like he was completely transparent and the two of you would see through him immediately. He dreads the day, and he has a feeling it’s coming soon, that the two of you extract yourselves from his life. He knows the texts and visits will become fewer and farther between until suddenly he stops hearing from you all together and he’ll go back to his life before the two of you were in it, wishing he’d never gone along with it in the first place because then he wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament he found himself in now.

He should put a stop to this himself before that happens, he thinks. Like a bandaid, just rip it off and the pain will dissipate before he even notices it’s there, right? He can fake a work emergency, or say somethings come up with his children and he needs to cut this weekend short. You’ll both understand, of course you will. Maybe even be secretly relieved that you can spend the rest of your time here together with just the two of you.

He’s doing everyone a favour, he thinks.

Mind made up, he takes a little extra time than necessary in the shower, turning the temperature way down to hopefully rid him of what’s left of his hard-on and finishes cleaning himself off, being sure to scrub every inch of his body to wash away any lingering traces of this weekend from his skin, hopefully soon enough from his memory. He takes the removable shower hose off the fixture as well and sprays down the tiles where Marcus’ cum still lingers, watching it wash down the drain past his feet and then hangs the shower head back up and finally turns the taps off and steps out.

Speech fully prepared in his head, what he didn’t expect was to walk back into the bedroom to see you with a very worried expression on your face and for a moment, he feels his heart literally fall into his stomach. Did Marcus just confess what happened and you’re so enraged you’re about to throw him out on his ass? Throw your husband out too? Likely not the latter, he thinks. If anything it’s probably further cementing the fact that the two of you need Dave out of your lives, he’s only going to cause problems in what is a beautiful, perfect marriage.

“You have to go?!” He hears you say and oh. So Marcus is leaving? He asks what’s going on and then just hangs back after Marcus responds to him but then focuses his attention back to you, Dave idly listening to the conversation in the background as your husband continues to apologize to you about an apparent “work emergency” that’s come up.

Dave was already set in his decision to leave, but with Marcus going he knows he really, really needs to leave. Being alone with you might just kill him, and he doesn’t deserve a death that blissful, he reasons with himself.

Not long after saying an endearing goodbye to you, Marcus brushes past Dave with a vague ‘see ya later’ and just like that, he’s gone and Dave is left alone with the person currently possessing the other half of his traitorous heart. The heart that wasn’t supposed to fall for either of these two people who already belonged to each other, let alone apparently falling for both of them.

Marcus is in the cab, half way back to his own house where he most certainly does not have any type of work emergency waiting for him, when he starts an inner battle with himself about just what in the fuck he is doing. Should he have left? Should he turn around right now and go back and stop being a fucking coward? What the hell was he supposed to do?

He felt so fucking guilty the moment his orgasm ripped through him like a freight train with Dave’s hands on him and you nowhere in sight that he just couldn’t get out of that hotel room fast enough. He had cheated on you, in his mind. What’s worse is that it wasn’t even all sexual, though that is how it started and how he pursued it but his feelings for Dave were beginning to get overwhelming and he thought maybe if he just ‘got it out of his system’ he could forget about it and move on, but then Dave had to go and fucking hold him afterwards and asked him back to bed and his throat just plummeted into his stomach. How could he just walk out of that bathroom and pretend that never happened? Is that what Dave wanted? Or did Dave want you to know exactly what happened? How would you react? Marcus didn’t even have his own feelings about the whole thing sorted out, he couldn’t expect you to understand. He crossed a line, that much he knew.

Ultimately he decided to let the cab driver continue to their destination. He was already well on his way home anyway, might as well keep going. He’d fix himself some dinner, maybe a drink and just have some time alone to sort out his thoughts before he joins you back at the hotel. He briefly wonders if Dave will still be there when he gets back. If he is, maybe it would be a good time for the three of you to have a conversation, one that’s surely long overdue. Marcus hopes he doesn’t have to speak first. What if he voices what he thinks he’s truly feeling and you all look at him like he’s grown a second head?

He’s equally worried at both ends. He’s worried that Dave, despite the tender moments he is occasionally capable of showing, might laugh the whole thing off. He signed up to be a fun ‘playmate’ for a couple of weekends here and there, not a more permanent fixture in an already existing and functioning marriage. And you… what would you even think? Sure Marcus knows you’ve warmed to Dave over the months during your encounters but you’d never discussed with Marcus that you’d felt anything for the man in question outside of sexual desire. Not to mention what would you think of him if he asked you to have another man be an active participant in your relationship? The last thing he wants is you feeling like you’re not enough for him or that something is missing from your marriage.

It would kill him if this drove any kind of rift between the two of you. No, he needs to shut up and keep whatever is in his head and his heart to himself and hope things sort themselves out. He’ll start to distance himself (and hopefully you both) from Dave and you can go back to your lives. He cares about Dave, far more than what he knows is appropriate, but he can’t lose you. He won’t.

Marcus finishes his dinner, accompanied by a rich glass of wine, and waits a while, letting his food settle and his mind attempt to find peace within the waging war that are his thoughts still battling on inside his head. A few hours since he’d left the hotel pass before he finally heads back outside to his car and types the address of the hotel into his GPS.

Dave York is a bad man. He knows it the moment he reaches the penthouse floor again, not even thirty minutes since he left it, and lifts his fist to knock at the hotel room door. He'd had every intention of getting into his car and leaving this place. Just one drink first, he'd reasoned with himself, then he'd leave.

He knew shouldn’t be here at your door now. Not without Marcus. Though, he supposes he shouldn’t have been in the shower with Marcus without you, either. Marcus knows it, clearly. It’s the only explanation for why he high-tailed it out of there with some half-assed lie of an excuse of having a work emergency on a Saturday night. Dave saw right through it of course but didn’t voice his concern, he certainly wouldn’t do that in front of you. He wouldn’t wedge himself further into the complications of your marriage than he already was.

He’s really fucked this up. But he knows, even before you pull open that door, that tonight is his last chance. The last time he’ll allow himself to see you before he forces himself to go back to his old life so you can have yours back with your husband. And if he was a better man, he would’ve just left earlier when he said he was going to and not come to see you one last time, knowing full well what he was doing and feeling and how it might affect you. How it might affect Marcus, and moreover how it might affect your relationship with Marcus.

But Dave York was not a better man. Not a good man.

Dave York was a bad, bad man.

"Hi" you breathe out the moment the door swings open and lands on him leaning against the frame on the other side.

"Hi"

Marcus lets himself into the hotel suite, quietly and carefully making his way through the rooms that are bathed in darkness, only slivers of moonlight peaking through where the curtains aren’t fully shut. Pushing open the double doors to the bedroom he frowns but is otherwise not surprised to find you sleeping alone in the bed that now seems comically oversized for just your body alone, especially given how crowded it was only hours earlier.

He glances around the room, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight, making sure not to shine it on you so as to not wake you up. He tilts it around the room, looking everywhere but there's no sign of Dave. His belongings seem to be gone, his duffel bag no longer occupying the corner of the bedroom where it was before. Marcus had walked through the living room to get to the bedroom so he knows he wasn’t asleep on the couch either.

Dave was gone.

Clicking off the flashlight and before he can talk himself out of doing so, Marcus taps on the Messages icon on his screen, wanting to send a quick text to your group chat, just to ensure wherever Dave was, everything was OK.

Once again Marcus gets that all too familiar feeling of his throat falling into the pit of his stomach when he reads the tiny grayed out letters that greet him at the bottom of your conversation.

Dave York has left the group.

Dun Dun Dunnnnnn! I am so sorry, but believe it or not this was my plan for this series all along from the moment you guys lovingly bullied me into turning my one-shot into a series, lol. Fear not though, we haven't seen the last of our dear Dave. He's just a bit of an idiot, and is going to continue to be one for a little while, but have faith in me.

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I really appreciate you taking the time to read this chapter! If you liked it please leave me a little note or a reblog, it means the world to me!

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[velvees-archive]

save for the dual destinies dlc case, i’ve finished my first play through of the mainline ace attorney games. incredibly solid series. i have a draft with my thoughts on each case in the aj trilogy + game ratings. dunno if i’d wanna post it though, it’s kinda long.

so instead, i’ll post some misc thoughts about phoenix and edgeworth portrayals across mainline/aai + my personal favorite interpretations of them by the writing team!

spoilers for AA mainline and AAI duology

by far, my favorite phoenix portrayal is og trilogy phoenix. the way he interacts with his environment and the people around him is very authentic, albeit rude as hell (which, in hindsight, is even more authentic for phoenix, so…). saw someone’s tumblr post mention that phoenix is such a “straight guy” which…yeah LMAO. real to life accuracy, so much so it’s infuriating. i think what i’ve played of dd’s dlc case captures what i wanted to see from post-trilogy phoenix in that he’s still an asshole and comically stupid, but not actually stupid, if ykwim. something i disliked abt the rest of aa5 and aa6 is how the writing team watered his character down to the following two oversimplifications: “phoenix only wins cases bc he bluffs!” and “uhh...what evidence does phoenix present now?”

don’t mistake a silly man for a stupid man. mia calls phoenix a genius in the og trilogy. phoenix dives in head first but he’s meticulous when it comes to drawing out the truth. most of all, he doesn’t outwardly show how frazzled he is (see that one drew misham quote about phoenix quietly watching the court as he’s accused of forging evidence), even if he feels that way. i get the colorful usage of expressions is for comedic effect but it just makes him look like he doesn’t know wtf he’s doing, and that’s a disservice to his character. yes, he bluffs, but he isn’t clueless. anyway, i’m excited to replay the first trilogy now that i “know” second trilogy phoenix. that might also just be my way of saying “give me back MY phoenix”, bc the last time i’m (mostly) on board w his portrayal is in aa4, and even then i didn’t like the dialogue in his forged evidence trial.

*though, as of writing this, i’ve seen some good arguments abt his forged evidence trial dialogue that make me think ok maybe it was actually pretty accurate. let’s see wht i think on replay

on the other hand, my favorite edgeworth—at least in principle—is post-apollo justice edgeworth. in many ways, i think how he’s portrayed at 35 is how he would’ve been had dl-6 not occurred, barring his career choice. still a bit pompous, still fairly mean (at least on the surface, we all know he cares more than he lets on) and perhaps a bit uptight, but self-assured and just. the writing team makes a point to show that edgeworth doesn’t care about prestige or fancy titles. that feels like him in a way post-first trilogy edgeworth doesn’t. this particular point was fleshed out in aa1 and rfta, tho, so idk if i can give yamazaki credit for it.

there are some things that will always bother me abt post-first trilogy edgeworth (the problems are present in the aai duology as well) where the writing team shoves him into a box teeming with boring tropes for his character archetype.

an example:

creds for both these pictures: me

edgeworth is fine w pictures in the first trilogy, but comes to hate them in the aai duology.

ik it’s small but honestly what was the reason? what justification is there for this outside of wanting to fit edgeworth into a “cold character” stereotype?

bridge to the turnabout and turnabout ablaze are only about a month apart. i’m not buying into the sudden aversion to picture taking, regardless how minute a criticism it is. in any case, i feel like what i’m trying to say comes through w these screenshots: yamazaki’s edgeworth is always just a little off.

i am forgetting where i saw the post and i have too many liked posts to scroll thru to find it again but i saw a reblog?? tumblr post?? abt yamazaki and takumi’s diff approaches to edgeworth, where takumi says edgeworth listens to trot while yamazaki thinks he’d listen to classical music, and if that doesn’t drive the point home, idk wht will.

why then, did i enjoy post-aj edgeworth most? short answer is i’m taking liberties w his development and its implications. while i never completely buy into post-aa3 edgeworth, i can digest and get behind most of him when i’m not nitpicking, unlike w post-aj phoenix. does edgeworth feel a little uninspired and one- as opposed to three-dimensional? yeah, but his core is so strong i can overlook it. i’ll miss seeing a developed edgeworth when replaying the trilogy. him at 35 makes me feel warm inside.

anyway, i didn’t intend to start hating when i made this post bc i ultimately still believe the second trilogy was pretty good, if not overly ambitious with it's storytelling. maybe i'll post that AJ trilogy review.

overall, tho, t&t and aai2 were my favorite games to come out of the franchise. i’m going to do that slow replay of the first trilogy, aai duology, and aj:aa before making final judgments.

[embracing-the-ineffable]

Good Omens, staying skeptical, and the mystery and the lie at the heart of Gravity Falls

-Neil Gaiman, 29 June 2023

I recently came across this post by @apathetic-revenant, which goes into extensive detail about a whole secret meta lie generated by Alex Hirsch, creator and head writer of Gravity Falls, midway through the show.

It went like this: the show was very focused on mysteries, codes, ciphers, etc, and early on a character discovered a mysterious journal with an unknown author, and this drove the plot. There were clues placed in the show so that people could solve the journal author's identity, or more probably so that it would all make sense in hindsight after the big reveal. However, the show ended up with a larger-than-expected fandom who started organizing online in a way the creators hadn't expected or planned for, and they were worried everyone would collectively solve the mystery too easily, too soon, and the suspense and appeal of the story gradually unfolding would be lost.

So they took a fake BTS photo that appeared to reveal the journal's author and "leaked" it online. To give it credibility, the show's creator posted "Fuming right now" and then deleted the post soon after, once they were certain it had been seen and screenshots taken. The Gravity Falls fandom then stopped trying to solve the mystery, as they believed the answer had already been revealed. It was a solution "targeted toward delaying that group problem-solving, without actually affecting the experience of any individual person watching the show."

Ok, Good Omens fandom. Are we Gravity Falls all over again? Are we also experiencing meta lies?

Is it possible that Amazon's marketing department has just released a new promotional video about Aziraphale & Crowley's "timeline of interconnectedness" (discussions here and here ) where they honestly:

got several of those timeline dates wrong, including labeling the entirety of seasons 1 and 2 as belonging to the same year?

mixed all the season 1 and 2 clips together so they're completely interconnected and out of the order they were presented to us so far?

didn't consult with Neil Gaiman for even a moment to be sure they had their facts straight? (Or literally anyone else who's spent years working on it? Or even someone who has just watched it once while paying attention?)

didn't understand the way most series tell a story by moving through time in a realistic linear fashion?

When Neil said today that "time is fine" in response to questions about the timeline of interconnectedness video, was he trying to misdirect the fandom away from the mystery that's clearly hidden throughout both seasons (and especially season 2)?

The Good Place seems suddenly more relevant than I'd imagined:

Neil has told us that his Tumblr posts aren't canon. He's also said:

"Never trust the storyteller. Only trust the story."

"Writers are liars, my dear, surely you know that by now? And yet, things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot." -Both quotes are from The Sandman [link]

So here's my plea to whichever part of the fandom might read this: Stay Skeptical. It's wonderful to talk to Neil about his characters, the worlds he's created, his writing process, his views on world events, his sense of humor, his kindness, his compassion and empathy, and his good advice & encouragement for the entire range of the human experience. I respect him very much, and I'm thrilled he's here on social media talking to all of us. (Except he doesn't have social media, obviously. He's like Schrödinger's Social Media Neil-cat.)

I'm looking forward to all the surprises I'm certain are in store for us (and Aziraphale and Crowley) in Good Omens season 3. I trust Neil (and Terry!) to deliver our beloved characters to a very satisfying ending. But I don't trust Neil to honestly answer all of our questions on social media - and neither should you.

Especially not when he's already blamed obvious season 2 changes to the Bentley on the "lighting" (as just one example).

With lots of thanks to the members of the @ineffable-detective-agency - including @bbbitchvibbbez, @kimberleyjean, @maufungi, @noneorother, @theastrophysicistnextdoor, and @thebluestgreen for all their excellent fact-checking, ideas, and discussions!

Interested in diving further into all the Good Omens mysteries? I have more posts plus Clues and metas from all over the fandom, here.

[chronological-knight]

so excited for @mcyt-aro-week, I've decided I'll participate by writing fic which is. scary. to say the least. but!!! I think this is good!! it's for day 1, "trope subversion" also, this turned out angstier than expected, so tw for internalised aphobia.

---------

In hindsight, this had been a very, very bad idea.

See, the thing is, Grian and Mumbo had always been close, but since Grian joined Hermitcraft they'd spent nearly all the spare time they had with each other. Between Sahara and their bases being so close, a significant amount of their not-spare time was spent together too, just from sheer proximity.

And see, the other thing is, Grian had never had a boyfriend before. Or a girlfriend. Or any other kind of partner, for that matter. If he was being honest he'd say he felt like he was missing out, when so many of his friends were getting together or celebrating anniversaries. So when he'd started getting closer to Mumbo, his first thought was: finally.

His second thought was: this feels very underwhelming.

That was fine, he thought, maybe he just needed time. That makes sense, right? Surely feelings don't just start off super strong right from the get-go? Surely, he reasoned, if he just acted the part hard enough his stupid heart would finally kick into gear, and he’d get the happy ending he wanted.

Surely.

That was how he ended up on the top floor of his base – a garden – surrounded by parrots and butterflies and perfectly wild bamboo, the moon shining through floor length glass walls to cast him in otherworldly silver lighting.

Kissing Mumbo.

It should have been perfect. It should have been butterflies-in-your-stomach-fireworks-going-off-stars-aligning perfect. This should be what he'd been missing. For goodness sakes he should at least be having fun.

All he really felt was gross.

The kiss was wet, and gross, and there was too much teeth, and when Mumbo finally pulled away Grian made a valiant effort to hide the disgusted sound he made. Mumbo put his hand over his mouth, which could be a good sign or a very, very bad sign, Grian didn't know.

The first thought he could make out over the clamour of ew was: void, I hope I never have to do that again.

The second thought was: there's something wrong with me.

The third thought was: oh no, Mumbo.

“Oh, void.” He said, because he had to say something. What if Mumbo hadn't liked it, and thought Grian had, and now Mumbo would never talk to him again. Or, hels, what if Mumbo had liked it, and Grian would have to explain that that was the worst thing he’d ever experienced, and Mumbo would never talk to him again-

One look at Mumbos face told him that at least wasn't true. His face was screwed together so tightly you'd think he'd just eaten the world's sourest lemon, and his hand was clasped over his mouth in what was very clearly disgust.

Grian watched him grimace, and felt the expression reflected in his own face, before Mumbo lowered his hand and said, “Grian, I – right ok. I'm going to tell you something and – and you have to promise to not be offended by it, ok?” Despite the sea of panic-disgust-fear already swirling in his mind, Grian nodded.

“That – that? That was awful.”

A beat passed between them, before Grian slumped forward and exclaimed “Oh thank goodness.”

“I mean, I mean, yeah no that wasn't one of your better ideas if I'm being, if I'm being completely honest dude.” Mumbo's voice grew more hysterical with every word.

Grian slumped even more forward, fully sprawling on the floor with his head in his hands. He felt stupid, and wrung out, and like he never wanted anyone to see him ever again. His wings were puffed up in front of his face, holding him like a dam.

“There’s something wrong with me” he mumbled miserably into his open palms.

Grian hadn't seen Mumbo, what with all the flesh-and-feathers between him and Grian, but he could still feel the shift from hysterical to concerned-confusion as acutely as if he had. He heard the ruffle of fabric against grass as Mumbo turned to face him and said “Why on earth would you think that?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” He mumbled, though judging by Mumbo’s “Can’t hear you, Gri,” the words were too muffled by his wings. With a frustrated grunt, Grian lifted his wings from his face, and the dam broke “I’ve never kissed anyone before, ok? I’ve never had a girlfriend, I’ve never been in love, void I don’t think I’ve ever even had a crush on someone before, isn’t that ridiculous! And, and then I joined Hermitcraft, and we were spending all this time together, and I thought, I don’t know what I thought! I thought maybe I wasn’t broken!”

At some point in all that, Grian had stood up and paced towards the window. He rocked back on his heels and scrubbed at his face in frustration, until the phantom image of Mumbo’s face faded from his vision. Mumbo, too, had stood up and now took a few steps towards Grian.

“Grian, you’re not broken” The way Mumbo spat the word broken, like it had personally offended him, like the mere idea Grian would think something like that about himself was ridiculous, “You’re aromantic.”

That caught him off guard enough to still the churning anxiety in his stomach. His wings de-puffed a little, and he turned his head quizzically away from his hands and towards Mumbo, “I’m aromatic?” Mumbo giggled a little at that, though it was more hysterical than actually humorous. “No! No, aromantic. It's where you aren't attracted to anyone – well, it’s a bit more complicated than that and, really, I’m not aromantic and you should probably talk to Etho about this, not me – but, but you're definitely not broken!”

You're definitely not broken.

He said it with so much conviction, like he couldn’t possibly be wrong, that Grian began to believe it too. And with that, a release of pressure like he’d just dropped something he didn’t even know he’d been carrying. You’re definitely not broken! He hadn’t realised the thought was weighing on him so much until it wasn’t.

“Oh,” he said, because he had to say something. He released his hands from where they were gripping at eachother white-knuckled, ran them through his hair. Memories were pouring through his head, every one recontextualized through the light of you're aromantic and, oh. He turned that over in his mind, examined it's edges, and came back with a feeling of rightness. Aromantic. Aromantic.

He's not broken.

The realisation could have made him cry, if the circumstances weren't so ridiculous. What had he been thinking? oh void, had he really been so scared of being single, of all things, that he'd kissed Mumbo? Laughter washed over him like a wave and he heard Mumbo join him a moment later.

“I am such a spoon,” he wheezed between fits of laughter

“Yeah well, what else is new?”

[connieisthesun]

Wildest Dreams (Conrad fisher x y/n)

You see me in hindsight

Tangled up with you all night

Sweaty bodies, the dizzying aroma of alcohol and a pounding remix of trending tiktok audios. It was nothing more or less than an infamous college party.

As a studious individual, I never usually partake in such fickle activities until my best friend Angelina begged me to go the night before as pay back from eating her last packet of instant noodles, what can I say, it was 2am and the hunger hit different!

Aside that as she was partying it up with some ran-do named Allen, Alex? - I didn't catch his name. I was standing in a corner to avoid the excessive grinding of drunken kids, unbeknownst to me a pair of sapphirical diamonds, piercing deeper than a lustful cesspool was the gleaming and most respectful eyes of you guessed it Conrad Fisher. The most sought out guy in college.

Lost in thought, I was quite rudely bumped into a deeply intertwined couple was making their way upstairs to conduct more "business." My legs entangled before me, I tripped and fell into the arms of the infamous fuckboy Jason.

"You don't have to hurt yourself to get my attention"

I quietly revolt in my mouth, who does this guy think he is?'

"Thank you, I was just leaving." I mumble.

"Leaving y/n darling, already? The party just started, why don't you be a good girl and lead the way upstairs." He whispers with fake innocence.

I could not believe he thought I would give my virginity to him, a guy who had the ego of the president but the looks of a furless moleskin rat!

Disgusted, I visibly grimace and attempt to break free of his grasp, before I could do so his hands began sliding its way up my thigh and his hand around my waist tightening ever so slightly. I am frightened, is this really happening?

"Jason!" called a distant figure who's silhouette was only visible to me.

Jason's breathing quickens with his distraughtful presence still looming over me, an air of vindicative energy fills the room.

"Leave her alone, she obviously doesn't want to fuck you or be seen 10 feet within you so leave her the fuck alone before I punch you shitless."

Gob-smacked by this behaviour, you rustle out of Jason's arm's to be met by the warm embrace of the one and only Conrad. Your heart pangs a little as he grips you assuredly.

"Look at me, are you ok? He exclaims.

You begin to speak before-

"I swear to God, just wait until I get my hands on him, hurting a sweet pretty thing like you."

"Conrad! I'm fine - thank you."

"Sorry for overreacting, do you want me to walk you to your apartment for safety y/n" He looks intimately in your eyes as he hopefully awaits a response.

"Yes sure, please. I don't want to have another encounter at a party again!"

"Tell me about it, all guys want these days is sex." You feel relieved that Conrad isn't a misogynistic brat though that's just the bare minmum. You engage in a meaningful conversation on the way home, talking about various topics before your arrive at your front door step.

"Thanks Conrad, it really means a lot to me that you care."

"No problem, I'm here if you need me y/n."

"Wait, how do you know my name, we've never formally met before."

"Lets just say a girl like you no matter the name is unforgettable." He offers a quick smile before muttering goodnight and leaving. As if in a delirious state you clutch your chest and make your way to your bed only to dream about the night you just had and the wildest possibilities of you and Conrad.

Thanks so much for reading! This is my first fic so go easy on me lol but honestly I had to feed you girlies as season 2 has come to a close and conrad fics are slowly disappearing. Let me know if you want a part 2, I'll make sure the parts are more longer and get into the backstory of both y/n and Conrad but for now see you later!

P.S -> I'll add you to my taglist for future content if you comment your name :)

[iwashieonhiatus]

BLUE LOCK MEN AS BREAKUP SONGS

📌 itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, oliver aiku, nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, michael kaiser

︶ ︶ ︶    ୨୧ ︶ ︶ ︶ warnings- breakup songs that I think suits the Blue Lock boys. (pt1?)

♡ ITOSHI SAE- MR. PERFECTLY FINE/ TAYLOR SWIFT

Mr. "Perfect face" Mr. "Here to stay" Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away" Everything was right Mr. "I've been waiting for you all my life" Mr. "Every single day until the end, I will be by your side" .. Hello, Mr. "Perfectly fine" How's your heart after breaking mine? Mr. "Always at the right place at the right time," baby Hello Mr. "Casually cruel" Mr. "Everything revolves around you" I've been Ms. "Misery" since your goodbye And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine" Mr. "Never told you why" Mr. "Never had to see me cry" Mr. "Insincere apology so he doesn't look like the bad guy" He goes about his day Forgets he ever even heard my name Well, I thought you might be different Than the rest, I guess you're all the same...

✦ ISAGI YOICHI- SOMEBODY ELSE/ THE 1975

So I heard you found somebody else And at first, I thought it was a lie I took all my things that make sounds The rest I can do without I don't want your body But I hate to think about you with somebody else Our love has gone cold You're intertwining your soul with somebody else I'm looking through you While you're looking through your phone And then leaving with somebody else No, I don't want your body But I'm picturing your body with somebody else....

★ OLIVER AIKU- NOT IN THE SAME WAY/ 5SOS

Drink all night, never sleep You say, "Go," I won't leave I love you, you love me But not in the same way Rip my heart out and leave On the floor, watch me bleed I love you, you love me But not in the same way We fuck, and we fight, then you call me a psycho I walk out the door, but you won't let me let go Turn right around, throwin' rocks at your window But I can't forget you, and I'll always let you...I love you, you love me But not in the same way...

❥ NAGI SEISHIRO- GILDED LILY/ CULTS

Now it's been long enough to talk about it I've started not to doubt it, just wrap my head around it I remember when you told me it's an everyday decision But with my double vision, how was I supposed to see the way? Haven't I given enough, given enough? Always the fool with the slowest heart But I know you'll take me with youWe'll live in spaces between walls.... Haven't I given enough, given enough?...

▞ BACHIRA MEGURU- MORAL OF THE STORY/ ASHE

So I never really knew you God, I really tried to Blindsided, addicted Felt we could really do this But really I was foolish Hindsight, it's obvious Talking with my lawyer She said, "Where'd you find this guy?" I said, "Young people fall in love With the wrong people sometimes" Some mistakes get made That's alright, that's okay You can think that you're in love When you're really just in pain Some mistakes get made That's alright, that's okay In the end, it's better for me That's the moral of the story, baby.....

❖ITOSHI RIN- THANKS FOR NOTHING/ THE NEARLY DEADS

Thanks for nothing, all the bad advice. You never gave me anything. Hope you're having fun across the country Making brand new memories. Sorry it's not far enough away. I'm sick, so i'm sorry i'm giving up. Now i'll never wonder if i'm good enough for you.I'm getting older every day, I'm getting over you. You will never share in my success, You will never play a part in my happiness again. I'm getting older everyday, I'm getting over you this way. Take a step back, try to see it both ways. Looking from the outside everything seems ok. But we're not ok. All these guilty feelings i have harbored over years of your neglect, They end tonight.... Take a step back, try to find a lifeline. Looking from the outside everyone is just fine. I'm doing fine.The only thing you taught me was to run away and how to waste my life How to waste my life....

✸ MICHAEL KAISER- HATE ME/ ELLIE GOULDING

Hate me, hate me, still tryna replace me Chase me, chase me, tell me how you hate me Erase me, 'rase me, wish you never dated me Lies, tell me lies, baby, tell me how you hate me It's a thin line between all this love and hate (okay) And if you switch sides, you're gon' have to claim your place (okay) So baby, this time you're gon' have to seal your fate (okay) Yeah, baby, this time you're gon' have to seal your fate... Tell me how you hate me, hate me, still tryna replace me Chase me, chase me, tell me how you hate me Erase me, 'rase me, wish you never dated me Lies, tell me lies, baby, tell me how you hate me...

[dollsonmain]

Saw Harley and Ivy Barbies and thought "They're not too bad, but Ivy's outfit is terrible" and that's my full thoughts on it while my doll friends sit down and have a deep discussion about how and why they're terrible.

Green Barbies are getting easier to find with Elphaba, Vina, and Ivy. I want more other colors. The fairies had pink, purple, and blue. I wouldn't mind more purple and blue and a light green and ye... yellow might be pushing it unless she's Spongebob yellow and the pink fairy basically looked normal, and orange is just the 80's Barbies again, but you get me.

They have fairytopia and mermaids, why not fantasy skin tones?

-

Talked to a friend and he mentioned that he isn't sure if he's masking so hard that his mask is himself, now, or if he was faking being ND as a child and I was like love, that's a thing so many of my ND friends have gone through.

I'm going through the same thing right now with this job.

All these years have been like "I can't do this much physical activity because it will hurt me more than the activity is worth" and here I am walking 3+ miles every day, standing on my feet for hours, bending, lifting heavy stuff, and I'm fine. I've just been lazy and refusing to do hard work this whole time.

I say, while having obvious, glaring moments of brain fog (I'll break down Monday's chaos under a cut) and confusion while on the register, forgetting what I'm doing while I'm doing it, being so tired and sore that hobbling home takes more-than-twice as long as walking to work, falling asleep while eating, having to push myself very hard to get chores done when I'm home especially the ones that require going up and down the stairs, and being in so much pain at home that I'm barely mobile...

So Monday, a guy comes in and buys gas at the register. There's a slight price break if you pay inside, for some reason, and I'd rather it was card at the pump only but that's neither here nor there. Sometimes the card readers on the pumps hiccup and people come inside instead of fighting with them, too.

He tells me his pump number, I take the payment, he goes back out.

He comes in a little later and says there's no money on his pump. I knew the payment took and was like "Ok, I'll put $30 on the pump you're on as cash and you're good to go."

Which doesn't make sense. In hindsight, that made no sense what-so-ever. I don't know why I thought that was a solution to the problem. It made sense at the time but as soon as he walked out the door I was like "Wait... What did I just do??"

Some back and forth and we discover that he told me the wrong pump and the lady at the pump number he gave me had put in her card like normal and pumped gas not noticing the money already on there, but that was HIS money.

I couldn't figure out how to refund the man's payment to her pump and take payment from her so we could reset everything, and that didn't fix the $30 cash charge that wasn't in the register because I didn't take cash from him, I just told the register that I did.

So I had to grab Alt-Manager, tell her what happened, and after SHE tried to refund the wrong-pump card payment so we could charge both customers correctly and couldn't she asked the woman if she had any cash. The woman had a $50, so the manager broke her $50, gave the man what he was owed for the woman's gas (the woman was like "that's for me!" but no, it was for the man) and the remainder to the woman.

We charged the man again for HIS gas, which he had already taken from the pump so we had to charge him for random groceries, and they both walked out.

Then I was like "Wait, I think this means the woman didn't pay for any gas."

Which Alt-Manager was like "Oh no..... I think you're right...."

She had to go call Manager who somehow understood what had happened and broke it down for both of us, while both of us were like "what...." but.

The man will have 2 charges on his CC: Her gas and his gas. The gas station gets both. The woman paid the man in cash for her gas. Manager "refunded" the $30 in cash I'd told the register it had to zero that out.

In the end it was all square, but it was so confusing at the time.

It would have been better to refund the man the cost of the woman's gas in groceries in cash and then recharge him for his correct pump and then charge the woman in groceries for how much she was owed, but I didn't know that was an option. To refund as groceries when the issue was gas. Though doing that may have messed up the drawer count, too, because that cash was never put in the drawer in the first place, so doing it the way she did was the best way to keep the drawer count right.

Anyway, Manager is very good at understanding and managing the money side of things and being firm with vendors, customers, and employees, but bad at time management and has unrealistic expectations regarding how long it takes to complete tasks, especially when also expected to run back to the register every few moments, whereas Alt-Manager is good at the money side but a little easy to influence/push around, and very good at time management making sure that everyone is in and out at the correct time and will jump out to take the register about 5 minutes before it's time to go so employees can count their drawer and do their dishes, etc.

[dufferpuffer]

Unpopular opinion: had JKR died after writing OotP, the series would have been better that way. The last two books have rather poor pacing, do not add much to the setting or characters, destroy all of the credibility of Voldemort as villain (for the adult leader, at least), and probably do more harm than good to Severus Snape's character. Yes, we wouldn't have had Grindelore (or Grindelwald in general), Snily and Kreacher redemption, but... these are still not enough to redeem the existence of HBP and DH. And fans would almost certainly came up with a better series continuation/finale.

I read this as "Unpopular Opinion: JKR died after writing OotP"

For HBP - I'd say that is unpopular. I like that one, I like how everything went in it, I think she finally worked out how to write a decent mystery... and it was great for Dumbledore's arc.

I'm not saying the Author is particularly good, she was just fine - but she did a decent job in specific ways I don't trust fandom to: I like that she is a nasty, biting, distrusting, traumatized little weirdo that knows what its like to suffer and be trapped. I like that she knows what its like to be deeply mentally unwell, crippled by it - and how fame and money don't change that. I like that Harry Potter is a miserable, nasty, darker version of the Muggle world - and I think most things since the books ended just... forget that. Make it cozy. The love softens the hurt. But she never did that. She made Love a theme - but allowed her characters and her world to be brutalized at every turn. It's great!

This fandom? Handling Dumbledore after OotP? Handling Draco Malfoy? Handling the recent death of Sirius Black? Handling the sheer concept of Harry being a doomed child-soldier...? Shit, we can't do that now, with all the hindsight. All the expanded world-building we got in the last two books, now that Harry was older and given more independence...? Gone? Like 70% of who Snape is and why he does things is in those last two books. And he was one of the few things done perfectly: He is the thread knitting the entire story together. it might be called Harry Potter - but the story is about Severus. He was everywhere doing everything, and you don't realize till right at the end... yet can go back, through every book, and see it quite clearly, now that you can look back on them with Harry's adult eyes and not his kid eyes. She pulled it off really well. It makes a re-read of the books almost mandatory just to go WOAH. It's not One Piece, but it's good - especially for childrens fiction. I'm pretty happy with what we got, especially in HBP.

DH... eh. That one dragged its feet... I like most of the ideas and set-pieces: Starting the book with Moody's death shattered the entire concept of the Order - Hedwigs death was a nice touch, Harry's complete loss of 'Home'... the death of Charity... the wedding getting interrupted... the idea of these kids camping and starving and getting captured over tiny mistakes... But yeah - the way they are executed and tied together is lackluster. Especially the final conflict and the goddamn epilogue. It feels like it was rushed. That there were dot-points and they were strung together and said 'good enough' - because ending something is hard. But HPs ending was unsatisfying. We can do better.

I don't really know what you mean by it destroying Voldemorts credibility as a villain. Like he wasn't the most compelling villain overall, but I don't know what in the last two books was particularly bad. Maybe I'm forgetting something. I don't think about Tom much... But as an egocentric manipulator, only interested in his life story, using prejudice that already exists in the world for his own gain despite not caring for it himself...? I think that went ok.

Please don't take this wall of text as like angry at you or anything - I just blab! It's an interesting idea, Harry Potter without the final two books. You're right in saying 'not wanting HBP' being an unpopular opinion... I dunno if the same can be said about DH :^9

[moodymisty]

Anything involving wrecker cuddling probably watching a movie and cuddling with his partner 😊

Author's Note: Stamped, approved, etching it to stone because I am sold on this cuteness. It's been raining a ton recently and I love it, so time for rainy day cuddles. Wrecker would absolutely be the king of snuggles, both in body and mind <3

Relationships: Wrecker/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None, it's just pure fluff

Thunder cracks outside, the lightning having just flashed bright enough to light up the windows only moments ago.

This storm is intense, by far the most intense of the year, and it would be quite reasonable to say your plans to enjoy some time at a festival on one of the higher levels is, more than a little bit canceled. Raindrops smack against the window, streaking down so much it's distorting the colors of the brightly colored lights smattering the buildings you can see throughout the city.

Wrecker is not going to be fond of this news in the slightest; Especially since the two of you have been waiting for this for days now. Their 'estimate' for how long this current deployment would take had lined up perfectly, and you'd actually gone as far to pick out what you wanted to wear in advance, but now you'll more than likely end up putting it away for another, sunnier day.

Snatching your datapad off the table you decide to send him a message, to see if he's planet-side or not. If he is; Well, he'll be able to see himself why the festival is off.

-Hey Wreck, you on Coruscant yet?-

Wrecker rarely if ever has his datapad on him, it's faster often to message Tech than it is him; Though this time it doesn't seem to be the case. When you see he's finally responded to you it's impossible not to smile. Even just his written word makes your heart beat a little bit faster.

-Nah, we'll be there in a few hours though. Been counting each one.-

You've been too; Maybe it's a side effect of being so hopelessly in love.

-Well, I kinda got some bad news for when you get back...-

Wrecker responds to you almost instantly, sounding so obviously worried even if you can't hear his voice.

-Are you ok?! Nothing happened right?-

-No no! Nothing bad! I'm fine, big guy.- You really wish you'd worded that better in hindsight; You know he worries. Even if you find the idea of him doing so silly.

-It's been storming all day and it's supposed to go through to tomorrow. We're getting almost half of our usual rainfall in one night.

-So, needless to say; Festival's canceled.-

It's not the news you want to give since you've both been excited to for this, and to spend some time together outside of the Marauder, or the clone base when you manage to get a visitor's pass. But the weather has decided to be far less than friendly to your pursuit of a romantic time, much to both you and Wrecker's chagrin.

-Seriously? Aww come on, I was waiting for that all this time!-

You were too; More than a little bit.

But, there's an idea in your head that might be way better than walking through a tightly knit crowd all day. It just needs a little bit of setup, and since Wrecker is still a few hours out, you have some time to do so.

-Come over to my place once you're free. I think I have something way more fun that we can do instead. Tell Tech to land you all safe.-

Sitting your datapad back down you turn around and look at the room, debating how to best conquer the idea you have in your mind. All the while thunder cracks in the sky again as you decide to start with your couch, getting on your knees and giving it a good push. Once it's out of the way you do the same with anything else close by, until there's a giant open space in the middle of the room.

All you need now is to steal every pillow and blanket you can find, hauling them all over and making a huge nest out of it all on the floor.

It's a mess, a giant one, but it sure does look comfortable. You just need some food and drinks to go with it, grabbing them all and sitting them close by the pile. You and Wrecker can decide on what to watch when he gets here; But at least for now, the setup is complete.

You just have to wait, and hope he doesn't have any trouble getting up to your floor this time. The last time you almost got into a fight with the receptionist over not letting your abit, very loud, very large, and very upset clone past.

But maybe Tech landed them faster than usual, or perhaps he didn't get caught up in the side effects of some sort of bureaucratic nonsense, as it's less time than you'd expect before you hear his footsteps in the hall even before he knocks, and you're at the door just as he does so. There's barely a chance to even say hello before he is on you, arms around your waist and hauling you off the ground. He laughs at the way you yelp from suddenly being in the air, now at face level with him.

"Wrecker! I missed you!" Your hands cup the sides of his face, pressing your lips against his own in an eager, sloppy kiss. When he pulls back, you feel the stubble on his jaw rub against your palms.

"Not as much as I missed you. Didn't even get into any trouble this time so I could get here early."

Who'd of thunk it; Wrecker, going down the straight and narrow. Even just for a little bit. You're sure he'll be back to blowing up way more blasting material than he's allotted in no time.

"But what's all this?" Wrecker says, as he gently puts your feet back on the floor.

He looks over the mess you've created, a big smile still plastered on his face. You move aside and close the door, and also throw a hand at your creation.

"Since it's so stormy outside and the festival is canceled, how about we just hunker down and watch some holofilms? I got snacks and everything." Wrecker is an energetic man, but you know he enjoys a good long while of relaxation even more than you do.

"Mind if I clean up and get out of this junk first?" He gestures to his armor, and you're more than happy to oblige his request.

More, than happy. You love this man more than anything; But gods does deployment make him smell less than flowery.

"Have at it; The place is yours." His helmet has been in his hand this whole time as he steals another kiss from your lips, before walking past you as he begins pulling at the seams of his armor. It'll all get piled somewhere, left to be dealt with later as he disappears into your refresher.

You hear the sound of the shower kicking on, not long after you sit down on your giant pile of blankets and steal a small bite of one of the snacks you'd put out while you wait for him.

Wrecker has a small spot in your closet of clothes you've mostly bought him; Largely casual clothes like sweatpants and long sleeve shirts. He had originally complained about you buying them, even if they'd barely costed anything; And well worth him being a little more comfortable in something other than his GAR standard body glove. He also seems to like them, as more than once he's worn them back to the Marauder; And also has had to fight to keep one of his brothers from stealing them when he's in his armor and his back is turned.

Wrecker comes back out of your refresher wearing some casual sweatpants and a shirt, quickly noticing you're already comfortable and waiting for him. He makes a quick line right for you, sitting down as close to you as he possibly can.

His skin is still warm from the hot water; He smells like fresh soap and uniquely 'Wrecker' instead of like soot and dirt.

Resting his back against the edge of the couch, you feel him pull you into his side, his arm wrapped tightly over your shoulders.

"Comfy?" He jokes, feeling you squeeze yourself deeper into his side and a hand against his stomach.

"Yep." He laughs when you say it so casually, enunciating the p with a soft pop of your lips. Now you just have to decide what to watch, and everything will be perfect.

Tugging a blanket overtop of your legs, and with Wrecker right here you're warm and content; The storm now seeming more like a blessing that a curse.

Join the taglist here: @seriowan @starborncyare @simp-legend @nekotaetae @chad-something @coffeyorky @merkitty49 @lokigirlszendaya @totesnothere04 @get-wr3ckered @rebel-finn

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Day 5

Race

Unfortunately this is short and late but at least it's out XD, both the sixth entry for Linktober Shadow and following this one should be regularly posted if I'm not too sleep deprived because I am having way too much fun writing them.

Shout out to the Four fans because they are extremely based, and a small love letter to the Minish Cap, I adore the Minish to death and they're really neat, shame we don't talk about them more.

Can be read as platonic or romantic and in or outside a LU context.

If you had to say anything about the Smithy’s Hyrule, is that it was heartbreakingly charming.

It wasn’t as vast as any of the others, not quite the reclaimed and untamed nature of Sky’s anymore but not yet the most concrete form to the rigid Hyrule that stood on it’s own feet by Warriors’ time for as long as it could with the unyieldingness of granite, that didn’t mean you didn’t adore it to death, with it’s growing oaks and flourishing May lilacs and cerise autumn shades that came dancing in with all it’s cicada laughing whimsy and kindness with the raw and unapologetic stubbornness of a hunting Lynel, inviting and goading and jeering you into exploring every little crack you could until there wasn’t anymore left to see. Fitting for Four, the Hero as kind as he is stubborn and arguably the most clever and rational of the Chain (well, as rational as any of your boys ever were, can’t be the Hero of Courage without being some mix of crazy, genius, a bit of na oblivious fool or all three) on sheer account of the way he looked that challenge right in the face and decided to double down and apply it to his life in general, it was charming and you all adored him for it.

“-Alright, so you stick close to me ok? The other’s can’t see you but as soon as they’re asleep-“

... Which was why you were rightfully worried when you seemingly walked in on him talking to himself when going to get him from a water fetching run, the line between insanity and genius was really fine and something in you just knew Four would be the type to stumble headfirst into shenanigans caused by his own hubris and then not tell anyone about it unless under threat of death because prying anything out of him was like trying to pull a lynel’s teeth out.

“Link?”, he jumped, frantically hiding his hands behind his back and looking so incredibly suspicious you couldn’t help but look around already, “Look, I’m not judging or anything. But I’d like some forewarning if I have to hide a body because I didn’t bring a shovel.“

He chokes, startling into a laugh, it’s warm and startled, you think you spot verdant and crimson in his gaze and can’t help your own smile, “Wha- Why would that be the first jump you made?!”

You gestured to him, skipping closer to his personal space, not too close, you knew that he could be like a feral cat about his boundaries, but enough that he wouldn’t be able to run away, “I mean you are looking suspicious and talking to yourself. Pardon me making some leaps in logic with the information I have at hand.”

He gives you a look, a small ‘Hah’ escaping him, deadpan, before he leans back a bit, looking away, “You’re ridiculous, I was just... Practing some acting? For the upcoming Picoto Festival?”

Now it was your turn to give him a blank look, raising an eyebrow for good measure.

He winces, shaking his head, shifting onto his feet and pointedly not looking at you, “... In hindsight that’s not my best one.”

“Not by far, but I’ll let it slide.”, you place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and he relaxes into the touch with a sigh, some times he’s glad you can see through him, other times he’s not sure he shouldn’t be a bit concerned, “Now, what’s bothering you? How can I help you?”

After a second, he looks at you, considering amethyst warring with the prism of his gaze, studying, analyzing like he would a weapon, before finally speaking, “Can I trust you not to say anything? And to not think I’m crazy?”

“Really not helping with my running theory you killed someone and need help disposing of the body.” You snipe back drily, but nodding anyway, “But you can, promise.”

He nods, then finally draws his hand from behind is back, reaching into his hood with a quiet, soothing murmur of ‘it’s alright’, you swear you hear a small sound, somewhere between a high pitched squeak and a chirp.

You gasp softly, the little being’s tail swishes, squeaking up at you, Four smiles a bit crookedly. Slumping shoulders betraying his relief, “I’ll take it you can see them?”

You nod, gently waving to the small, ivory colored mice like creature, “Mhm, hello. What’s a Minish doing here all alone?”

Four tilts his head, ears twitching as the Minish squeaks up at you, waving back, feathery tail swishing as they gesture animatedly, their leaf cloak swaying with the movement, “You know of them? And they got stranded here after it rained, I was going to help them get back to the village since we’re close by and well...” He trails off.

“I do, never thought I’d be able to see one though. And you didn’t think anyone else could either.” You smile apologetically at the Minish, “Sorry buddy, I can’t understand you.”

They squeak, ears going down, then perk up gesturing to their head as Four chuckles, “They ended up losing their hat, wanna help me look for a new one before we set off?”

You grin back, nodding, “Of course! Do you mind translating? I’d love to know more about them if you're up for sharing and they're okay with talking.”

“It’s a bit of a long story, are you sure?” Four asked hesitantly, placing the Minish on their shoulders, they squeak from their new perch, giving you a little nod.

“Well, it’s a good thing we have time.” You smile, locking your arm with his.

[aquaquadrant]

Act two, oh boy. Ughhguhegjeb ok good to go.

VOLUNTARY DECAPITATION???? AQUA??? WHAT IN THE RED KING IS THIS??????

Tango, the jig is up, everyone knows everything is NOT FINE dude

And here we go again, I am the Watchers' number one hater fr

Ooooooo, Helsknight mention, realization, yess

Grian's "that makes so much sense" is so funny for some reason

REN TOO LMAO. It was just another Tuesday on Hermitcraft.

Mmmm, explanation, tasty.

I wanna know more about Hels not having an admin, UGHG.

NOOOOO, NOT THE DREADED BLAZE FARM

Maybe if I turn off my computer rn, I can live in ignorant bliss.

Nope, continuing.

Reminder that the Watchers literally watch hels too, and probably knew about Tango, like at least one did. Ugh.

This whole conversation is just, ugh, like, everyone is just horrified. I mean, it's really putting into hindsight just how HORRIBLE it was, like omfg.

This explanation of how the farm works, UGH, Tango being so chill about it, UGGHH

When I first read the accident line of Etho's, I thought he meant the portal switching them was the accident, and not that Tango didn't mean for it to happen lol

Seriously Watchers are on my LAST NERVE

Tango talks so casually, omfg.

IMPUUULLLLSSSEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JIMMY DEFENDING TANGO, MY HEART

Hm, how did you not see that coming Grian? Lol

Ty so much for having all the DL people be on Tango's side, literally couldn't handle this otherwise. Cleo's statement about how could they not tell Tango was dealing with this? Mwah

OOOOOOO, Grian askin' about Hels..

???????? Was that???? Grian's voice/thoughts??? In Jimmy's head???? Hm??????

AHA IT WAS, WATCHER GRIAN

Oh, is this were the decapitation comes in?

I'm still so worried about Tango going back to Hels. Please, so scared.

Oop, Jimmy speaking back to the Watchers omfg, love it.

Tango trying to justify why he should be a damn farm, uggghhh. This is literally just him coping and stemming from trauma, and it's not even hurtful seeing as death has no consequence.

Sometimes the Watchers can be funny, as a treat, they still need to stfu.

NOT THE L WORD (love)

YEAH, JIMMY IS GROWIN A BACKBONE, GOD DAMN

AND HE SILENCED THEM, LETS GOOOOOOO

OOP "I don’t care if some random guy thinks you’re just the manifestation of all his evil- frankly, I think that says more about him than it does about you.” YEAAAAHHHHHHHH, GAG BRAVO WHEN HE CAN'T DEFEND HIMSELF (he couldn't even if he wanted to)

The l word :) (love <3)

Fade to black and back to the ranch afterwards

"My gloves" awwwwwww, they're Jimmy's gloves now ugghhfew

The DL ppl coming to help ugh, love DL

And Etho takes the comm to explain! Huh, why am I getting deja vu back to a certain Hels player hm

Petition for a oneshot where the DLers explain what happened after this is all over to X, I think that would be great.

Etho a portal expert, do you get deja vu?

LMAO, Patho said he'd need Tango's comm to confirm his theory, and now Etho says he'd need Bravo's comm to confirm his theory, my my how the turn tables have turned. Just sit these two in a room already damnit.

Atlas fr need to move on god damnit. All these issues is because of Atlas, god damn it.

MY MY, HOW THE TURN TABLES HAVE TURNED, USING TANGO'S DATA TO GET TO BRAVO?? OHO

Uhoh, I thought we could be happy and not mention the feather farm again :(

RESCUE MISSION ARC!!!!

Not the Watchers again 😭 I'll give em a pass, cause they're all moods.

I do wonder how everyone else outside of DL is handling all of them being on lock down. Can they still message, or is everyone just cut off from contacting them? How's X, an admin of a sanctuary world, reacting to this fiasco? How's fWhip, the admin of Empires, doing with a good chunk of his friends stuck in one server with minimal to no context?

Mmmm, please have the decapitation work, pleeaasssee

AQUUUUAAAAAA-

Jimmy talking back to the Watchers is my favorite Jimmy <3

Ha, take that Atlas, THE DLERS DID THE PORTAL SO FRICKIN QUICK AHA

I was so worried Tango was just gonna BOOKIT through that port 😭

??????? NO?????? NO???????? NO??????????

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“What are you doing here?!” TANGO YOU CAN'T BE ASKIN THAT WHEN YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WENT THROUGH THE DAMN PORTAL

UGGHHHHH IM TERRIFIED FOR THE REALIZATION OF "Tango joined the game" DON'T DO THAT TO ME, UGGGHHHHHHHH

It's done, it was a roller-coaster, htp can't hurt me (for a while)

Tysm for this incredible fic <3

-🍌

ROUND TWO HERE WE GO 🏃‍♂️

‘voluntary decapitation’ got a LOT of reactions hagsjdha i didn’t know how else to put it…

one thing about tango is that he is gonna try and insist he’s fine TIL THE BITTER END like asking for help is always the very last resort for him in all facets of life. we stan an emotionally walled-up king.

obligatory ‘the watchers suck’ blanket statement 🫡

i’ve talked abt helsknight before but it was SUCH a handy way to quickly get into the explanation, like that’s the whole reason tango ever even realized he was a doppelgänger. and ofc the other hermits who were there are like ‘OH HEY YEAH wtf was up with that…’ they’re so used to having weird shit happen and then just moving on LOL

“I wanna know more about Hels not having an admin” :3

of COURSE tango had to tell them all about the horrible blaze farm while acting like he’s completely unaffected. no way was i gonna leave out any of those tasty details.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: IMPULSE WAS THE MVP 💪 💪💪 even if he accidentally spooked tango in this case, it’s good to know he would go FERAL to protect his friends.

the rest of the DL gang are p great too, NO WAY they’d buy all the ‘doppelgängers are evil’ bullshit 😤 and i really don’t like mischaracterizing someone just for the sake of added drama/having an antagonist. i can just MAKE a new guy for that (hence bravo and atlas HAH)

WATCHER (kinda) GRIAN MAKES AN APPEARANCE FINALLY 💃 usually he’s more careful about not using his abilities near a listener but the situation had him frazzled.

listen. the scene where jimmy finally confronts tango about the destructive nature of his self-hatred is my FAVE. sometimes love means just being there for someone and supporting them, but other times it means laying down some hard truths. it’s the culmination of jimmy’s arc and i’m SO glad you enjoyed it.

it takes a server to rebuild a ranch 💪

i am an ethogirl first and a person second so u KNO i had to have etho lay it out for us, at the same time allowing me to draw parallels between him and patho.

i’m def not qualified to discuss fwhip or empires in general (i’m a sham, i’ve never watched any of it) but x was for SURE freaking out. this is gonna make one hell of a story (hah) for the rest of the hermits when they get back.

CMONNN i couldn’t have the decapitation work, that’d be too easy ;0

i’m cryin at ur reaction going from “I was so worried Tango was gonna book it through the portal” to “NOOOOO???? NOOOOOOOO” like damn talk about foreshadowing 😂

GLAD U ENJOYED THE RIDE we’ve still got plenty of twists and turns to come 💃 thank u for being absolutely STELLAR w the feedback!!

[aita-blorbos]

(Oc stuff)

Am I the asshole for murdering my way to power?

So I (NB, 28) have finally consolidated the eastern lands under a single rule, a great achievement of historical importance and blah blah blah. However now that I'm not actively conquering everything around me, I have started to meditate regarding my ascension to power, and wondering some stuff. Namely, if the way I got to the throne makes me, um, what's the word? "the asshole"?

See, I had to organize the rebellion that started this whole thing, I'm not regretting that, this brute clan in power was starving all the villages in their territory, and like, sure, our revel group torched a couple of said towns down, but hey! We really needed the supplies we got from that! And we saved the rest! More would have starved than the ones we killed has we not done anything anyway.

And sure, I later betrayed and got my original gang killed, but that was necessary to consolidate my power over that territory, so that the mass starvation wouldn't happen again, and I did an amazing job thank you very much. They would have given their lives willingly had they known what I would achieve, probably. They only fought so hard not to die cause they were dumb and didn't know how good a ruler I would be.

And look, I wasn't planning on expanding my territory afterwards. 25 entire edge communities and an entire city under my power, that was more than enough for me. It was this other neighbour idiot that thought I would be an easy prey just because my territory was smaller and I was new to the position, now, that guy was the real asshole if you ask me. And he got defeated even though he had double the men, so really, ir was his own fault that I killed him and his entire family and everyone who supported him as I annexed his territory, he asked for it.

And like, fine, I admit, every conquest after that was unprovoked and my idea. But look, winning against that asshole just made me realize what a great administrator and tactician and leader I am and how I'm the only person qualified to rule over everything, you know? And I did consolidate everything under me so I was right about that! And I'm doing such a better job compared to those guys that were there before. Those stupid nobles born with a silver spoon in their mouths, they just don't get the common people like I do! I have made everyone's lives better, well, except for the ones I killed. But like, we all gotta make sacrifices, 'm I right?

But I do worry at times that the way I killed everyone who was vaguely rumored to oppose me was a bit much. I mean, at the time I felt like I had to given that my position was still unstable, but looking back, maybe I could have let go like 5%... 10%.... Em 25%.... Ok, look maybe I could have reduced the slaughtering to a half. But like, hindsight is 20/20 right? I did what I thought was necessary back then. And no use crying over spilled milk, right?

So like, no assholes here, correct guys?

[bullet-prooflove]

The North Star - Part Two: Case of the Ex - Terry Bruno x Reader

Welcome to mine and @the-hinky-panda The Bronx universe featuring our favs Terry Bruno & Mike Duarte.

This story takes place several years after 'Blood Out'. Terry still lives in the Bronx and works in Manhatten SVU.

Following on from @the-hinky-panda story 'The Dog' Mike has retired from the NYPD on medical grounds due to seizures causes by the attack. He has a therapy dog called Bono and lives with @the-hinky-panda character Meredith.

Tagging: @mysoulisasunflower @legit9thlunaticwarrior @bbyxoo @the-adzukibean @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @beardedbarba @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @storiesofsvu @anime-weeb-4-life

Part One: Moments

You make it over the threshold of your Squad Room with a few minutes to spare, the conversation from the car still playing in your head as you secure your weapon in the individualised gun locker and drop your lunch bag off in the kitchen. Your actions are mechanical, your body running on auto pilot because you’re struggling to process. There’s a disconnect in your brain between what you want and your prior experiences.

“It’s ok.” Terry had reassured you before you left the car. “I’m not mad, you’re not ready and that’s ok.”

It’s more complicated than that you wanted to tell him. It was an impulse ingrained into your psyche, a remnant of a trauma you had spent years trying to bury.

He turned in the driver’s seat to face you, his eyes meeting yours as he leaned in close. The scent of his aftershave was in your nose, lavender and sandalwood, it clung to his skin as his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek tenderly.

“It doesn’t change how I feel about you.” He told you with an honesty you felt in the very depths of your soul. “I can promise you that.”

You were in a haze of memories as you made your way to your desk, your thoughts ricocheting like bullets in your mind. Then and now, Paul and Terry, two different men. The past and the present. Sometimes in the dead of night you wake up in a cold sweat and you hear that laugh, that distinctive and hearty sound. It rebounds in your brain and it’s like you can hear it all over again, echoing in your ears.

You freeze, your muscles seizing because you are hearing that sound again, only it’s real and it’s coming from your workspace. There’s a small huddle of detectives lingering in the vicinity, they’re hanging on every word that emits from Detective Paul Russo’s mouth as he perches on the corner of your desk. You have to hand it to him it’s a power move, a way of claiming territory in an unfamiliar battleground. It’s just like Paul, a subtle way of trying to put you in your place. You didn’t see it back then but hindsight in a fine thing and you see it now. The same man, playing the same games, years later.

“Don’t you guys have cases to solve?” You said, breaking up the congregation. “Leads to follow up?”

The detectives scatter like school children caught out on the playground, heading in different directions. Only Paul remains. His blue eyes meet yours, they are clear and vivid, his pupils reactive and normal. He doesn’t flinch from your gaze; he knows what your seeking and he allows you to have it.

“I’ve been clean for over a year now.” He informed you, his gaze still on your face.

“Good for you.” You told him before dropping into your seat. “Now get your ass off my desk.”

He complied, slipping into the visitor’s chair instead. He was still in your proximity, not far enough away for you to be unaffected, it made your skin prickle and not in the good way. You removed the paperwork from your satchel before setting it down upon the surface of your desk, followed by your laptop.

There was a silence between the two of you, you let it hang, hoping he would get the message and disappear elsewhere.

“Aren’t you gonna ask what I’m doing here?”

“You are here to consult on my Robbery Homicide case.” You said, pressing the power button on your work laptop to bring it to life.

“That is the correct answer.” Paul informed you, clearly surprised. “But I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks Sarge.”

He pronounced the last word with an air of respect, praise rolling off his tongue. It felt like an ice pick being driven into your skull as you twisted your head towards him. His large hand reached out, covering yours momentarily, his thumb trailing over the gold stacking rings that graced your fingers.

“I’m proud of you.” he said quietly. “You said you’d do it, and you did.”

You remembered this version of Paul. Charming and alluring, gentle touches that lingered and a smile that seduced. How easy it had been to fall in the beginning, to get caught up in a man that seemed so handsome, so thrilling. It had been exciting, having all of his attention focused on you.

You withdrew your hand from his, dropping it into your lap because you remembered the other part too. The mania, the blown pupils and the red rimmed eyes, his excitable moods, his excruciating lows. The nights you’d wake up alone, because he was out God knows where, doing God knows what with God knows who.

“Detective Sinclair will take you through the case.” You told him, indicating to the workspace across from yours. “I have to be in court in an hour.”

His elbow came to rest on the corner of your desk as he leaned in close. He was clean shaven these days, his chiselled cheek bones no longer as gaunt as you remembered. Flecks of auburn shone in his hair from the fluorescent lights from above, and you wondered how many women he had corrupted since you. How many more notches lined his bedpost. The scent of his cologne was in your nostrils. It was one of the Ralph Laurens, something with bergamot and sage. It tasted bitter on your tongue.

“We’re going out tonight.” He told you, those bold eyes meeting yours as his voice lowered just an octave. “You, me, that place we used to like. We can see where the night takes us.”

His tone was dark and full of promise. It reminded you of the beginning, slow fingers drawing down the zipper of a little black dress. Fabric falling to the floor as that hot mouth plundered yours. It had happened quickly, your descent into madness and it ended in a storm of agony, blood and broken glass.

“I’m seeing someone.” You informed him, your eyes fixed on his.

“Oh Darlin...” He tutted, the edges of his mouth twitching up into a small smile. “He can’t do the things that I do for you…”

“No.” You said softly. “He does it better.”

It was a low blow, but it was worth it to see the devastation on those handsome features of his. For a moment he looks crestfallen, and you drink it in like a fine wine because what he is feeling right now is just a sliver of the pain, he’s caused you. The scars are still etched into your skin, they play out in your nightmares and invade your thoughts, stealing away your hopes and dreams because you can’t stand to lose yourself like that again. You won’t. What happened between the two of you ripples out from the initial point of impact and it affects everything. You were never the same after that.

“We’ll see.” Paul says as he raised to his feet and fastens the button on his suit jacket. “There’s plenty of time for the two of us to get reacquainted.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[auroracalisto]

i know its nearly the end of the celebration so you dont have to do this if you dont want to 😭 but i thought steve harrington with the prompt "i've forgotten what it feels like to actually be wanted." would be juicyy

also offering:

ya know what it's ok but it's two days after my event actually ended and i'm still trying to get to all the asks i have (also thank u for the offering, i've shared it with my friends). also, i've changed it from a dialogue prompt to a thought prompt, so... sorryyy :P

The placidness that encased his car was far too suffocating for his liking. It had first attacked his eyes, making them water—then, his mouth, forcing it still and shut; his jaw clenched, a dull throb running through his teeth. His throat closed up as a sob inched its way up the muscle, while the butterflies in his stomach dropped dead.

He couldn't go in. You were waiting to hang out, the prospect of good food and perhaps a coffee something you had been wanting for days. Something simple. As friends.

But he couldn't move.

Why was this happening now? Is this something he had felt before?

Utter despair?

No. No, not like this. Whatever this was, it wasn't just the typical sadness you felt when you lost someone. Like when he lost his friend and when he lost his girl (although in hindsight, it might not have been the best relationship).

He sat there in his car, music shut off, the aircon long forgotten about, wondering what the fuck he did to get here.

The knock on his window drew his attention. He quickly blinked his tears away, clearing his throat as he looked over, seeing you standing there with a smile on your face. However, it quickly fell when you saw Steve's flushed face.

He sent you a faint smile, which you took at face value. He didn't open his door, but he pointed to the passenger side. You tilted your head curiously before walking around to the other side.

"You doin' okay?" you asked as you opened the door. "You, uh, you've been sitting out here for a hot minute, now."

"What? Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, I just—"

"Steve..."

Shit.

Tears sprung to his eyes once more as he looked over at you. Your expressions softened, and you reached out to place a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't... I don't even know," he said, choking back a sob.

"That's... okay. You don't always have to know," you said.

Steve looked away from you, closing his eyes. He knew exactly what was wrong.

He had forgotten what it felt like to actually be wanted.

That's what he felt. That's what he couldn't figure out.

Steve roughly wiped his tears away, face raw where his cotton sleeve touched.

"Hey, why don't we trade places? I'll drive you home. We can watch a movie, and drink hot chocolate. Something to make you feel better."

Steve gave a small nod, glancing over at you.

"Yeah... yeah, that sounds good."

You smiled and grabbed his hand, gently squeezing as you did so, hoping that whatever comfort you could provide him would help with the feelings deep within. And maybe, at some point throughout the long night, he would tell you what was wrong.

A cheesy movie and warm food would do you both some good.

Maybe then, after he had calmed down, you could tell him what you had initially planned for that night: you could admit to him how you felt. And maybe then, Steve would know just how wanted he truly was.