#he's there to be a punching bag for the others so they don't go insane and rip each others throats off

[shoechoe]

Prosciutto so mean to Pesci. This is why he is the worst La Squadra member

[aimedis]

redacted audio headcanons: jealousy | shaw pack edition

sam and darlin are going in the solaire clan one

david likes to think he's above such "immaturity" in his relationship with angel to get jealous. but he's not. it doesn't happen often, but when he notices the way people look at his mate, he gets so pissed. he knows that angel smiles at and is kind to almost everyone, and they love that trait in them but he honestly would like it a little more if they didn't ever smile at anyone that isn't him. like ever. they laugh at him for being so dramatic but he's like 60% serious. but other than mild irritation when angel waves excitedly at literally everyone, david hates it when they jokingly flirt with their friends/packmates. at least once a day he sees them giggling with baaabe or sweetheart either in person or on the phone and he has to fight the urge to pull them (gently) into his side and keep them there. a fight he loses more often than not if they're within arms reach. he's been known to toss their phone away from them while they whine, keeping his arms wrapped around them (and recently, absentmindedly toying with the ring on their finger). angel has taken to rubbing his arm while softly reassuring them that they're only joking and that he's the only one they love as he pouts hums into their neck.

angel gets jealous a little more often than david does. obviously, david gets a million stares whenever he steps outside. he's tall, sexy, handsome, big, all of the above, and angel knows that. those are the exact reasons why they stare. but that's them, they're david's mate. and the fact outside people think they have the right to look at what's theirs drives them insane. it's not david's fault, they don't blame or not trust him to be loyal. they just hate other people looking at him like he's a piece of meat. on a shopping spree at the mall david and angel went on, david had at least three people try and give him their number as if angel wasn't standing right there and that's not counting the hundreds of second glances he got. to which david would only flash his ring at them with a completely straight face and pull angel away. however, they had enough by the third person "accidentally" bumping into him and started making out with him in the middle of the store they were in. david didn't have many complaints, he had already seen how irritated they were getting and just suggested they leave afterwards. angel spent the entire car ride home complaining angrily about every single time someone so much as looked at him for more than two seconds. david gave them their hand to hold, barely wincing when they squeezed it as tight as they possibly could. he honestly thinks it's sexy whenever angel rants about him being flirted with, he can't help but smirk when he asks what he should do about it. he offers to tattoo their name on his forehead, let them bite him everywhere that's visible hard enough to leave a bruise, punch anyone who dares to even breathe near him etc. and in the moment, angel would prefer watching david spit in peoples' faces but they know he can't do that. so they resort to the bites option. everywhere.

asher gets jealous once in a blue moon. most of the time when baaabe talks about other people being interested in them he's just using it as an opportunity to flex that he's the one actually in bed with his mate. he says things like "and i'm the one you come home to at the end of the day" with the widest smile on his face. asher always talks about being so lucky to bag someone like baaabe instead of focusing on being overly protective over what's his. still, there have been more than a few times where asher can't hide the annoyance he feels when it comes to baaabe spending time with other people as opposed to him. baaabe spends a little too much time talking about the work parties they go and people they talk to without him and he starts pouting. only slightly, but baaabe notices and they laugh a little. they run their fingers through his hair when he starts dramatically sulking about people trying to "take them away from him", letting him get it out of his system before they reassure him firmly but kindly that no one could ever replace him. and asher usually recovers by that moves on. despite not being jealous often, asher still gets possessive with holding onto baaabe in public and obviously staking his claim on them subtly. it doesn't happen often, but if there was ever a moment where someone tried to "take" his mate from him, they would find themself of the wrong end of a wolf's teeth.

baaabe shows jealously just as much as asher does, not a lot but not never. asher is very friendly and he talks to everyone about anything. some people appreciate this on a surface level, but others sometimes try to take it in a way that was never intended. asher has had people blatantly flirt with him due to this but he just pretends to not notice until baaabe comes to save him. most of the time baaabe isn't bothered enough to feel negatively about it, choosing to be amused by it. but there are times where they feel uncharacteristic anger when they see someone making an obvious move on their mate or he talks about someone a little too much/kindly. to which they go to play save a hoe a little faster, pulling asher away a little harder or subconsciously frowning. asher takes baaabe's jealously very seriously, knowing that they spiral easily when they feel like this. he showers them in affection for a while until he's sure they're fine. baaabe recovers fairly quickly as long as they get to snuggle up to ash for a little bit.

milo has definetly threatened to kill someone for sweetheart. he's very possessive but in a "never touch my mate" way instead of being mad at sweetheart themself for being around others. sweetheart didn't think he was overly possessive when at first but once within the first year of their relationship, they mentioned a coworker flirting with them and milo went deathly silent before he growled. sweetheart laughed at him because they were caught off guard but milo was genuinely ready to fight someone. milo has a love hate relationship with people appreciating sweetheart. he knows damn well his mate is attractive and he believes that people can appreciate that, but he hates it when anyone at all flirts with them in any capacity. he feels his eyes twitch when even packmates make small comments about them jokingly flirty. he'll laugh and tell whoever to back off under the guise of a joke but sweetheart can tell he's genuinely irritated. when he gets the chance he'll pull them as close to him as possible and rub his hands wherever on sweetheart's body they were touched by anyone else. they let him because they think it's both funny and cute as well as enjoying the feeling of being "claimed". but sweetheart "brat" greer never passes up an opportunity to tease him about it which only leads to milo taking his jealously out on them in the bedroom.

sweetheart doesn't get as jealous as milo does as often. milo is a pretty social guy and is a natural charmer so they understand why people would be interested in him. and they love showing off the fact that he only ever has eyes for them. then again, on the worse days, they can't help but feel jealous when milo doesn't pay as much attention to them. sweetheart is a very expressive person facially, so their expression shows their annoyance before they can even verbalize it. still, they'll pretend they haven't even noticed milo talking to someone else, brushing him off in their typical petty manner. milo notices them sulking in a corner for presumably no reason, but because he can read them like a book, he figures it out soon enough. he pokes a little fun at them to which they only sulk harder, turning away from him and telling him to go back to whoever is so much more important than them. milo finds them adorable when they're (minorly) upset with him so he wraps his arms around their shoulders, working the tension out so they can relax while he whispers apologies in their ear for ever making them jealous. that they'll always be his top priority, that they can always prove who he belongs to in front of everyone. sweetheart lets him do whatever and pretends they don't love hearing those words come out of his mouth while they're already planning every single hickey they're gonna put on his body.

[satansapostle6]

Love The Sinner | Dexter Morgan

Dexter Morgan, a vigilante serial killer hiding in plain sight, loses sleep for the first time in his life when he’s met with the very last thing he expected: a kindred spirit.

Warnings: Violence. Mature language and themes. Sexual content.

Part One. Eyes of Darkness.

Most people, when they’re getting arrested, shit their pants with fear. Some scream, some cry. Some rage, and some try to run, and some just freeze. That’s what you usually see, when you’re in your parents’ living room, and your dad can’t wait to turn on the TV to the channel dickety-six news, of all things. But sometimes, people have other reactions when being handcuffed and shoved in the back of a squad car. Sometimes people enjoy it, for one reason or another. I smiled when Miami Metro put me in cuffs on the news. Laughed, even. You see my story is many things, but boring certainly isn’t one of them.

Let’s start simple. My name is Nicole Carvalho, and as of today, America knows me as ‘Murderous MILF’. You really can’t make these things up; I love this country. I keep reminding myself, if I ever go free, I need to clip that out of the newspapers. But see, right now, at this very moment, I’m sitting alone in an almost blindingly white interrogation room at the precinct, waiting for a cop to question me while they study me on the surveillance footage. I can’t lie, I’m sitting back right now in my chair, smirking. You see, I killed the men who violated and later took my baby girl’s life, and I’m currently very pleased with myself.

I don't think my grandfather pictured this when he left Brazil. This truly is the American dream; committing a crime and letting your own peers decide whether or not it was justified. In all honesty, a jury will be much kinder to me than ‘God’ has been. So, I figured I’d let myself have this one thing. I think I waited about a half an hour before they sent someone in; a female detective. They must’ve figured a matching vagina couldn’t hurt. The first thing I noticed about this detective was that she was strikingly young; close to my age. I’m thirty-six, so I would estimate her to be maybe a little younger.

But apart from her age, the next thing I noticed about this detective was that she was very robotic in how she interacted with me; she didn’t necessarily look like she wanted to be there. She barely looked up at me when she came in, holding my files and looking down at them like a teenager doing a presentation in high school.

“So. Nicole Carvalho. I’m Detective Morgan.”

She sits down across from me less like I’m a murder suspect and more like she’s interviewing me for a secretary job. I look at her, sitting forward as I join her in the conversation, still smug as ever. I think she was secretly hoping I’d say it, the four words that usually drove most cops insane that, for some reason, no one ever thinks to say in the movies.

“I want my lawyer.”

I smile as I say it. Detective Morgan also smiles, looking down at the table before getting up. I’ll never forget how pleased she sounded.

“Guess that means I can’t ask you anymore questions.”

She gets up and walks out, and that’s the end of it. In all honesty, I don’t think she was looking forward to questioning a woman about the murder of her daughter’s rapist. After the detective left me alone, I was allowed to call myself the lawyer that I had in mind. This, of course, was a friend of a friend, a perfectly shady guy named Johnny Bertelli, who was, in the nicest way possible, a fucking scum bag. You see, I work as a project manager at a marketing firm, so I’ve met my fair share of good lawyers, but Johnny was the fucking best.

He made Johnnie Cochran look like an idiot. He was the kind of lawyer who laughed at the prosecution in court, and I needed him. So there i was, in the Miami Metro precinct punching a number I’d gotten off Google into a wall phone. I looked around the precinct as I waited for someone to pick up, and suddenly it was like I felt a pair of eyes on me. I turned around, and I saw a pretty timid, mild-mannered looking guy who seemed as if he’d been standing there trying to figure out how to get my attention.

But the strange thing was, he didn’t seem to want my attention, at all, actually. If anything, he seemed perturbed by the fact that I was looking his way. I looked over at him, not knowing what the fuck his story could’ve been. Miami’s a weird place, because in this moment, I realized the guy wandering the precinct in a Polo and khakis could very well be an employee. I looked at the guy, not knowing what he could’ve wanted with me as I struggled with the phone. Funny enough, he actually just wanted to be helpful.

“You gotta press pound,” he says quietly, “For the call to go through,” and I almost laugh.

I appreciate the odd moment, just thanking him.“Thank you.”

He just nods, and says nothing as he quietly retreats to wherever it was he came from. I took his advice, and sure enough, the phone worked and patched me through to Johnny’s office. I wasn’t quite sure at the time, seeing as I was obviously a bit preoccupied, but I felt that strange man’s eyes linger on me for a moment. Even as I turned around, I could sense his surreal sort of presence that he had. Sure, I was used to having men’s leering eyes on me out in public; it was hardly unusual. But this was different.

Like he was less looking at my body and flesh, but more so imagining what was underneath it.

*****

The next couple years of my life were eventful, to say the fucking least. Johnny of course advised me to take my case to trial instead of taking a plea, for obvious reasons; there was no way any jury was going to give me the maximum sentence, or God forbid, the death penalty. I was a single mother who stabbed her twelve year-old daughter’s rapist seventeen times. In the eyes of the public, I was practically a fucking hero. Johnny’s confident that any jury would feel sympathetic to me, despite the brutality of what I’d done. As he says, the facts are still there.

My neighbor, a weasley little creep named George Randall got me, and my Isabelle, to trust him, and took advantage of her in the worst way. Then she killed herself, because of what he did, and I had to find out through a note left on her desk for me to find. So, I went to George’s with an empty baking dish of his, and once he let me in, I whipped out the knife I’d borrowed from him, the same knife I used to use to cook for my little girl, and I made his stomach burst like a water balloon. At this point, I’d already chosen to show little remorse for the crime I’d committed, feeling perfectly at peace with the possibility of prison, or the death penalty.

But Johnny said there was probably no need to be too fearful of either. He’d even told me there was a possibility I’d just get a few years, and then parole, or something, and I wasn’t sure that wasn’t bullshit, but I also liked his confidence. The reality of it was, Johnny had made much worse people look way better. To him, my case was already closed. All I had to do was play the part of the grieving mother, which took no effort on my part. I had to wait almost a year for my case to go to trial, which I of course did outside of a cell.

This gave me enough time to get all my affairs in order, or so to speak. My job was okay for the time being, and I knew I’d probably still have it so long as I wasn’t convicted of murder, given my ‘years of dedicated service’. Things were going to be relatively fine, eventually, but for now, I was stuck being paraded around like a jester on some twisted apology tour for avenging my daughter’s death. I’m a pretty good actor, but even my patience has its limits. And maybe wearing my white So Kate’s to court wasn’t necessarily the best judgement call.

But Johnny, being more than worth the money I pay him, made it work. I walked into the courtroom with him, humble and graceful, and didn’t let my eyes linger so as not to appear guilty. But even then, I caught a glimpse of him in the room. The guy who helped me with the phone. He was watching my trial, probably just as a police department employee. Probably.

“Will the defendant please rise?”

I complied with Judge Willis’s request, with my trusty guard dog by my side. I remained dignified, my head held high, but not too high, of course, as the proceedings began.

“Miss Carvalho. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty, your honor,” I told him.

The damage was done. My fate rested entirely in the hands of twelve strangers, and for some reason, there was a thirteenth who seemed oddly invested in the outcome.

-

Part Two.

[merakiui]

time loop angst where floyd is destined to live the same day over and over with you, and he can't understand why that is. it's such an unremarkable day, too. just the two of you living life. it was fun the first few times, but now he's lost count of how many days have been lived in repetition and it's so boring. the only thing that makes it bearable is his little shrimpy. he's happy you're here with him, stuck in this insufferable time loop, otherwise he's sure he'd have gone insane from the repetition.

it isn't until floyd realizes that, outside of the loop, you're gone. you've been gone for years, and you're never coming back.

suddenly, the happy days aren't so pleasant. suddenly, he's forced to confront the very thing he's been avoiding.

the loop will end once floyd finally accepts it and moves on, intending to heal. he's been so stuck in his own head, unable to let go of the ghost of you, that he's put himself in this loop.

the worst part of it is that you don't know anything. the shrimpy he wakes up to every morning is so very tangible. you smile, you kiss him, you hug him. your heart is beating in your chest. you're breathing, alive in his arms like everything's okay.

floyd knows it's not right to stay in the loop, even though he desperately wants to. it'll only hurt him more, but goodness does it feel wonderful to embrace you after years apart. half of him doesn't want to move on. it's difficult to get out of bed when he's grieving. it's difficult to find the motivation to breathe and eat and do everything that often came normal to him before your passing. he has to try.

even when he feels stagnant, crushed and heartbroken, the world is always continuing in its usual current.

he has to try. it's all he can do. move forward and try even when it's a challenge.

the next time floyd wakes his bed is empty. he sits up in a dark room, the curtains closed to block out the sun. someone's been ringing his doorbell for what's felt like hours. he peers around the room. you're not here.

the loops's been broken.

floyd drags himself out of bed. the floor is covered in clutter: trash and dirty laundry and crumbs. he should clean that. you used to gently nag him when things got too messy, and he'd always listen. he's not sure how many days or weeks or months he's lived in the same t-shirt and sweatpants, so it's refreshing when he finally strips them off and showers. he doesn't think much. he moves on autopilot. the water feels nice.

the doorbell keeps ringing. floyd, simmering in his irritation, throws it open, ready to deliver a hard punch to whoever's stupid enough to stick around and bother him on this unremarkable monday morning.

jade stands on the other side of the door, holding a bag from the local bakery and a container of what looks to be homemade takoyaki. azul is just a few inches behind, fidgeting awkwardly on his feet. he's clutching a bouquet. it's a happy one, unlike the many mourning arrangements that were sent by friends and family in the wake of your passing.

floyd blinks at them, confused. "what's up?"

they stare back, owlish. azul clears his throat. "you... you're doing all right?" his tone is careful, treading lightly.

"you haven't been answering your phone," jade adds gently, cluing him in on one of the reasons for their concern and, thus, their arrival.

"oh. yeah, my bad. s'not charged. kinda forgot to keep up with it." floyd cards his hand through his hair, exhaling a heavy sigh. "didn't feel like talkin' to anyone, so i didn't want anyone callin'."

"would it be okay if we step in? we've brought your favorites."

floyd glances into his apartment for a minute and then back at jade and azul. he steps aside, shrugging. "be my guest."

he's going to try. for your sake. for jade's sake. for azul's sake. for his mother and father's sake. for his own sake.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

sitting at the table, eating takoyaki and chatting about simple, mundane things, floyd feels peace for the first time in years.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

[bitches-who-write]

If you can, the gang with a super bubbly and affectionate s/o but when she's mad she gets really scary, like they'll check in on them but at the same time she would totally beat someone's ass if they insulted her man, I'm talking bashing there heads in a locker bad.

We're gonna break this up into parts [I'm typing this on my phone. Sorry, if it's shit. ]

Love this idea by the way!!

Henry

•At first he wasn't sure about the way you acted. It kinda..I don't wanna say irritated him but…it irritated him.

• Let's be honest here..it's Henry. He doesn't do affection, and he especially doesn't do bubbly. 

•Now he wasn't aware of your..anger issues? It wasn't until one day that he truly saw how fuckin insane you truly are. 

•You two were in school. He was standing by your locker as you were putting your books away. Greta and her gang of bitches walked over and started..well..being bitches. Now usually you deal with this by just ignoring them…however..you were already in an irritated mood due to a class incident. 

•Greta realized she wasn't bothering you so she decided to go for your boyfriend. 

•Big. Fuckin. Mistake. 

•She started with the flirting and after he called her gross and to fuck off, she was not happy. She started bringing up his haircut and how he probably didn't have the money to get it cut because his dad spent all the money on getting drunk. She even asked what it was like being a punching bag for his dad. 

•You snapped. 

•You kicked her fuckin ass. You grabbed the bitch by the ponytail and bashed her head into the locker. You grabbed her by the shirt and pinned her to the locker and let her know if she ever talked to your boyfriend again..well..you were gonna break her fuckin face. 

•Henry had very mixed emotions. He was pissed off because of Greta. He was very confused about this whole new side to his girlfriend. But most of all..he was hella turned on. 

•The minute you go to your place, you two were on each other. He ended up telling the guys about the incident after you two got done screwing around. 

•Patrick definitely tried to make moves on you more frequently after hearing this. 

[npdzane]

I'm currently on ~300mg of caffeine and 32 minutes of sleep. Take some zane npd & bpd proof with yapping. And like..a pinch of glacier. Ty @diino8081 for posting the full comic so i can tweak out momentarily.

Do you see how absolutely insane he is going without her??? He is literally risking death for a 5% chance of seeing pixal again. FIVE. PERCENT. ZANE WOULD ACTUALLY KILL HIMSELF FOR PIXAL. ARE YOU SERIOUS?? You can read how anxious and desperate he is for her. Like i seriously think if Pixal comes back we're going to have a scene of Zane being ungodly clingy.

I actually think we're going to get another Zane fake death where he hurts himself accidentally really badly trying to find Pixal. And it WILL make me go feral. If he's willing to hurt himself for Pixal, who's to say he won't risk other people's lives for her? He already risked Kreel and Lobbos life in this god damned comic that has me in a chokehold. If DR s3 ends up being Zane focused, we're absolutely going to get scenes of Zane being completely obsessed with Pixal.

Do i really have to say they don't have a healthy relationship at ALL???? Pixal said herself she wants to be useful so Zane doesn't hate her. Zane is..fucking batshit over her. They are NOT healthy for each other.

Also, ITS NOT A HEADCANON ANYMORE!! ZANE IS CANONICALLY ATTACHED TO HER!!! IM SO FUCKING RIGHT!!!!! He doesn't care about her. He cares about the idea of Pixal. He doesn't care what happens to him or anyone else he literally only cares about her. He says it himself the only reason he lives is for her. And his judgement is clouded when he thinks of her? THATS. THATS LITERALLY. A FP. COLE I BEG YOU THROW HIM INTO THE PSYCH WARD BEFORE HE TRIES TO KILL HIMSELF AGAIN 😭😭😭😭

While Zane will always be a narcissist to me, there are also some borderline traits he has. It's possible for him to have both, yes, but I don't want my perception of him to be solely mental illnesses. Because I notice a lot of the ninjago fandom tends to see characters less of actual people and more of lists of diagnostic criteria. So I'm trying to find a balance. For now though, I definitely do see him with both. He fits traits of both (I will cover more in the future, but for now just for some examples: fear of rejection, Pixal is literally his FP, excessive need for admiration, poor self esteem). But he is his own person with more to him than just that of course. He has interests and hobbies and is more than a punching bag. Again, I'm trying to find a balance between him being a genuine actual person and him also having a lot of mental issues that do need to be considered when I talk about him. This is one of the main reasons I have yet to write anything with him, because I want to figure out how to not make it seem like i see him as nothing but his narcissism and bpd.

Anyway. Cole calling Zane dear im literally fujoshing out/j (YES I KNOW HES NOT ACTUALLY CALLING HIM DEAR AHUT UP LET ME HAVE THIS ONE THING)

[hobiebrownismygod]

Miles G. Morales isn't "cold"

So...I see lots of people characterizing Miles G. Morales as a cold, arrogant "bad-boy" in their fanfictions. But y'all this just isn't accurate if you want to write him carefully.

Note: Headcanon him how you want, this post is specifically for writers who want to write him as accurately to his character as possible! Think of it as a character analysis.

42-Miles was on screen for approximately two minutes. He says maybe 5 or 6 lines, all delivered with very little emotion and in a fairly cold tone.

Its completely understandable that people would think he would be the "bad boy" type and would be a cold, arrogant person. HOWEVER-

Lets look into this more deeply.

First lets talk about the scene we got of him.

42-Miles ties up 1610-Miles to a punching bag. Where have we seen this before? Oh right-

1610-Miles did the exact same thing when he met Peter B. Parker for the first time.

These scenes mirror each other extremely closely, with 42-Miles even talking in a deeper tone of voice the same way 1610-Miles talked in a slightly deeper tone when he was trying to present himself as more intimidating to Peter B.

So why is this significant?

42-Miles is putting on an act. He just met his doppelgänger, somebody who's wearing a spandex suit, showed up in his apartment and is overall just very creepy. Of course he's going to be a little reserved, of course he's going to be stoic and unemotional. We don't even know if the concept of the multiverse exists in this universe. For all we know, 42-Miles doesn't even know that multiversal travel is possible.

Lets talk about 42-Rio's reaction to seeing Miles-1610

When 1610-Miles shows up in Earth-42 and talks to Rio, she doesn't seem that put-off by him. She makes jokes with him the way the average mother and son do.

Why is this significant?

The difference in the characterization of 1610-Miles and 42-Miles is absolutely insane. People treat 1610-Miles like a baby and they treat 42-Miles like a full grown man. However, the reality is that they're both going to have very similar personalities.

Rio would have noticed her son's demeanor changing and probably would've said something about it. But she didn't seem put-off at all by the way 1610-Miles acted. She even brings up comic-con, which suggests that 42-Miles has talked about comic-con and is therefore a ginormous nerd.

This suggests that 42-Miles acts similarly to 1610-Miles at home. He's also a talkative, friendly kid who spends a lot of time with his mom, and thats why she didn't realize there was anything going on when 1610-Miles showed up.

He's not cold. He's the average, maybe slightly depressed, kid.

Let's talk about Peter Parker.

Every version of Peter Parker we've seen so far is pretty similar. Even Pavitr Prabhakar and Hobie brown have fairly optimistic vibes, cracking jokes and being fairly outgoing. Especially with their masks on, we can see that they seem like they'd be pretty fun to hang out with. None of them can be described as cold.

42-Miles was supposed to be Spider-man. He'd have the same personality. Maybe he'd be a little more reserved, a little more stoic, but he'd still be the lovable goofball Spider-Man is supposed to be.

Miles G. Morales isn't a gangster. He's a teenage boy in a bad situation. Write him as such and do justice to his character. He deserves it.

He's a goofball guys.

ART IS NOT MINE!!! MADE BY @xrandomxpostsx ON PINTEREST AND IS LINKED!!

[thepersonperson]

On the note of sukuna inflicting insane amounts of violence onto those he finds interesting, I wanna bring up the parallel between gojo and sukuna with how in shibuya gojo in the 2v1 goes for hanami first and how many times he mentioned how unique her presence and technique is in chapters before that like he goes for her first bc he believes jogo to be weak (and maybe he expected more from hanami, having survived a hollow-purple from him before and all, but she doesn't respond or entertain him the way he wanted and just dies, also the glee with which he crushes her with his limitless like he expected her to overcome it somehow and the angry/irritated look he has after she's dead and he's left to fight choso and jogo)

I never thought about Hanami and Gojo's relationship that way, but looking closer there is definitely something going on. And I think it has everything to do with Toji.

(Used TCB Scans. Click images for captions/citations.)

Gojo both massively respects and fears Toji for getting past Infinity. He respects him enough to steal his fit and raise his kid free of Zenin nonsense, but he also fears being made that vulnerable again. So Gojo does this thing where he simultaneously looks for other Tojis while mercilessly destroying anything that resembles Toji. The go to example of this is:

The cursed tools capable of piercing Infinity have been personally dealt with by Gojo so another Toji incident won't happen again. It's a reasonable trauma response all things considered. What's unreasonable was his treatment of Miguel whose Cursed Technique (CT) mimics Toji. (Though it doesn't seem like it was ever activated in full during their fight.)

Despite part of that beatdown being racially motivated, Miguel's Black Rope did remind Gojo of Toji's Inverted Spear of Heaven, hence him getting rid of it. So while Gojo has enough respect for Miguel as a strong individual he can trust with training his students, there's that underlying fear from being too much like Toji. (Tbh Gojo being wary of his build is similar to how unnerved he was by Toji's physical prowess too.)

Now that we've established Gojo's weird relationship with Toji ghosts, back to Hanami. The first thing he notices about them is how good they are at hiding their presence and running away. Who else specializes in that kind of stealth? Toji.

So while Gojo is excited to have someone who might be his equal again, the fact that they're enemies has Gojo jumping straight to Hollow Purple to get rid of that threat. I don't think it's a coincidence the damage Hanami and Toji receive looks similar side by side.

And going to their fight in Shibuya, Gojo does something really weird to this curse that resembles Toji—he puts Limitless down. It was a bait tactic for sure, but it's almost like he is forcibly reliving his trauma. Toji first attacked when he turned Limitless off and from behind. And here Gojo turns it off again, and puts his back to the not-Toji.

But unlike with Toji, he senses when Hanami goes for him and turns around to torment and kill them. The cruelty with which he deals damage to Hanami exceeds even that of Jogo. It feels like he's using them as some kind of emotional punching bag where this time he kills the Toji before everything goes wrong.

I think his facial expressions being a more monstrous version of the ones he made while fighting Toji supports this theory as well. Gojo makes weird frog faces during the Sukuna fight, but they're just nowhere near this unhinged.

This could also be why he looks so upset after they're dead. Yes he killed the Toji, but now he doesn't have that rival. (Wow it's just like Sukuna being upset at the toys he broke.)

[r0mantic-f00l]

(again, not happy with this one but I just finished an over 2k chapter for soleil et lune and I'm tired so 😭)

jealous remus is one of my weak spots 😩

happy valentines day!

Interfering with a Love Life

The pub was cramped, every corner, every table filled with people as chatter and laughter deafened the music playing through the speakers. Drunk old men sat at the bar and bothered the poor, exhausted barkeep who had half an hour left in his shift, his eyes flicking to the clock every 5 minutes as the old men roared with laughter.

Remus was staring at you, sneaky with his gaze as he watched you smile, giggle, joke and talk; he only looked away when you glanced at him briefly, sipping his beer as he pretended to listen to James rambling to Peter about just how difficult Quidditch could be.

Sirius was at the bar himself, flirting with the man next to him to get free drinks (Remus always rolled his eyes, but Sirius always ended up walking away with free drinks for everyone at the table).

Lily was talking to you about wedding dress shopping, Remus quite invested into the conversation as he listened to you gush about how a sweetheart neckline (whatever that was) and perhaps a mermaid dress (he wondered if that was even a thing) would look amazing on the red-haired girl.

A couple minutes later, Sirius finally walked over with a round of drinks in his hands, passing them out to everyone.

"God, that bloke was such a creep." He murmured, digging into Marlene's bag for a cigarette pack.

"Uh, Sirius, you got me a cider." Remus complained, lifting the bottle so Sirius could see the lable.

"So?"

"So I don't like ciders."

"You don't like ciders?" You asked, bewildered at his taste.

"Yeah, I think they're too sweet." He shrugged.

You took the cider bottle away from him and smiled as you drank a sip.

"More for me, then."

Remus rolled his eyes, smiling as he did so, and he stood up from his chair, taking his jacket off and placing it on the chair, establishing his claim as he checked his jeans' pockets for money.

"Right, I'm going to the bar. Does anyone want anything?"

Everyone shook their heads and said no, Remus walking over to the bar as Sirius lit up his cigarette, ignoring Marlene's scolds as James gagged at his 'disgusting' habit.

Remus ordered a beer, to which the barmaid had to run down to change the keg, leaving the man standing there as he leaned against the wooden counter.

Another man had walked up next to him, same age as Remus, maybe a tad bit older, as he ordered an old-fashioned from the other barkeep, leaning in the same way Remus did against the bar.

"Oi," The man had attempted to get Remus' attention, quite rudely, but nevertheless Remus turned to face him.

"You having a good night?" The man attempted to make small talk, tapping his fingers against the wood as he grinned at Remus.

"Yeah." He replied, just wanting to be left alone.

"Oh, good. Listen, that girl you're with, over there?" The man had pointed to you over his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if she's single."

The barmaid had replaced the keg, it seemed, as she handed Remus his cold glass of beer. He gripped onto it strongly, sighing as he reminded himself to be calm and tell the truth. You weren't dating, much to his dismay. Why should he interfere with your love life?

"No, she isn't."

Apparently, Remus decided to interfere with your love life that night. 

"Oh. Who's she with?"

"This really strong guy, he's also got insane anger issues."

"Oh yeah?" The man tilted his head.

"Yeah."

"Well, I don't see him anywhere." The man grinned, taking a sip of his whiskey whilst Remus' jaw clenched.

"Well he's here."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and if he knew that you were talking like this, he wouldn't hesitate to punch you across your face and kick the living shit out of you."

The man chuckled. "Trust me, he wouldn't get a chance to try."

It was as if the stars aligned when you walked up to Remus and wrapped your hands around his arm.

"Remmy, why are you taking so long?" You whined, clearly a bit tipsy as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"Are you missing me?" He grinned, finding humour in the man's suddenly afraid expression.

"Yeah, Siri and James are being stupid and the girls are talking about going to Vegas, and I just wanna go to bed." You yawned, closing your eyes against Remus' arm as he chuckled and shifted his arm around your shoulder so you could rest your head against his chest.

"Okay, I'm coming back now." He grabbed his beer and smirked at the man who gulped and looked away from his intimidating stare whilst the two of you walked away.

"I heard you by the way." You mumbled.

"You did? 

"Yeah," You looked up at him and grinned.

"It's nice having such a protective boyfriend."

Remus repricated your grin, and ruffled your hair.

"It's nice having such a beautiful girlfriend."

You blushed, though you hid your face in his chest.

The next morning, you woke up with your head on Remus' bare chest as he twirled your hair between his fingers, staring at you with tired eyes and a smile on his face.

[etoilesbienne]

I try to be a fair person I try to be understanding. but I am sick and tired of having to read about the many sins of Léa for being a whistleblower. People are straight up putting words in her mouth for things she did not say.

Frankly I'm a little appalled that the MCYT community can have a huge moment about the heavy amount of misogyny present in the space and come away with the take she didn't actually experience hate from the fan community. No the other admins didn't not experience hate, but she didn't say that. She said she received hate for being the first person to come out. Or how she was discredited repeatedly and the "Jay" document was used to shame her pointedly and make her out to be unreliable and "a hater." Gee whiz I wonder where I've heard "she's just hysterical and took things too seriously and is a vindictive person out to get others projects to fail." That sure sounds familiar. Especially in CC spaces pertaining to women. Why would she be exempt from misogyny at the hands of the fandom?

Though the way people behave about former admins expressing frustration at the lack of internal translation is making me crazy. There is nothing wrong with Quackity speaking his native language in a stream for announcement. None of these admins ever said he was at fault for speaking Spanish, they were criticizing the lack of internal communication outside of the streams, and the fact the studios had no official translators on payroll to help with communication issues between languages. They aren't asking for him to speak English, tbf most of these admins don't even have English as a first language, why would they want a stream in a different language they aren't fluent in? I don't think Léa was expecting Quackity to suddenly start speaking French. They're asking for translations in the languages they do speak so they can understand these important announcements about their jobs, because they were not receiving the information about these announcements any other way. To be honest it still boggles my mind, even after all of this, that QStudios never even had official translators to relay messages between Quackity to other streamers and admins. Regardless, I feel like people are interpreting this pretty fair criticism of the complete lack of translation to non-English languages impeding the already barely existent communication to be as bad faith as possible from every side. On one hand you have people choosing to believe that is what the admins are saying and agreeing with it and then being racist toward Quackity over it, on the other hand you have people choosing to believe the admins are being racist toward Quackity and sending them hate over it. I'd be insane to deny racism toward Quackity wasn't also happening though.

I don't know what else to say than people who have been working insane hours for months on end to be exploited, and they're upset. This is a server a lot of people cared about as fans, of course the first person to come out and reveal the terrible conditions is going to receive the most amount of hate over this specific instance. It's not an unfounded claim. Have you seen the shit people say about Léa on twitter? It also doesn't mean the other admins didn't receive hate in their own regard, it's just the first person to come out is usually the biggest punching bag for it. Misogyny didn't magically dissipate from the fandom with the removal of a few problem CC. My god hear yourselves and the way you talk about a woman coming out as receiving workplace abuse.

[graves4girls]

Jealous johnny cage one shot?Preferably rock star fem reader

☆ chemical kids and mechanical brides | johnny cage

✮ wc. 1.01k ⚠︎ warning(s): fem!reader the hardest part of this was finding a good enough title i stg. i'm still iffy about it but wtvs ⟡ be sure to check out my work on ao3 → gravesforgirls !!

The adrenaline from the show is still running through your veins as you pack up your kit, humming to the song blasting from the stage as you brush away the hair sticking to your face. There were significantly more people in the stands than your last show, probably due to the leaked photos of you and Johnny cuddling up to each other at one of his movie premieres. It wasn't long after that people found out who you were, and your band's popularity sky-rocketed in the following weeks. 

You shove the duffel bags and drums into the back of the van, a smile cracking your tired expression when your eyes fall on him.

"That was fuckin' amazing."

His hands encase your face, littering your face in kisses as you laugh quietly, weakly pushing at his chest.

"Don't, I'm all sweaty."

He sticks one more kiss to your lips, big grin plastered to his face as he looks at you. "Arguably hotter."

You roll your eyes, shoving his hands away and pushing the doors closed with a sigh. "I almost don't even want to go to the club. The excitement is wearing off and now I'm just exhausted." 

He steps closer to pull you into his chest, hands grabbing at your hips to keep you in place as he presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

"You and I both know damn well they'll chew you out if you ditch 'em. Y'know, for a rockstar, you sure are a goody two-shoes."

You punch his chest lightly before slinking your arms around his neck, pouting a bit. "Am not. I just like to sleep."

You huff quietly when the van's horn blares, reluctantly pulling your arms away.

"Beat it, Cage! You're holding up our drummer!"

"Fine. She's all yours." He waves at the girl hanging out the passenger window, dropping one more soft kiss to your lips as he lets you go. "I'll meet you there. Don't have too much fun without me."

You're ushered toward the bar as soon as you step into the lounge, opting to sit on one of the stools and wait for Johnny while your friends disappear into the crowd. You busy yourself with your phone, and you fail to notice someone staring at you from across the room, slowly approaching you through the sea of people drunkenly dancing. 

"Hey."

You jump a bit at the voice, eyes finding a man suddenly taking up the space in the previously empty seat beside you, but you shoot him a tight-lipped smile despite the spook. 

"Hi."

"You're from that new punk-rock band right? The tough…tough something?"

You perk up a bit, eager at the opportunity to meet a fan. "Ruff puppies, yeah. Spelled r-u-f-f."

He nods with a small laugh. "Right. Not the best with band names. But yeah, I've heard a ton of your songs. Shit's sick."

"Thanks. We actually just came from a show a couple blocks down."

He hums, waving down the bartender. "What's your preference?"

You shake your head with a small smile, waving a hand in the air. "Oh, I'm not drinking tonight. I'm just here for moral support."

"Let me buy you something else then. How about a coke?"

You shrug. "Really, it's not necessary–"

He orders a beer and a coke, shooting you a warmer smile. "This is probably the only time I'll ever get to buy the pretty drummer from Ruff Puppies a drink. I'm gonna take it."

You flush the slightest at the compliment.

"Your latest album by the way? Best shit I've heard in the scene in a hot minute. And, from one drummer to another, you're insane."

You spend the next few minutes shooting band recommendations and techniques back and forth before his eyes wander behind you, mouth falling open a bit, and you follow his gaze to find Johnny ambling over to you, the traces of a scowl on his face.

"Holy shit. You're Johnny Cage, right? Man, I love your movies. Ninja Priest was so good."

"Yeah. I appreciate it." He turns to you, snaking a hand around your waist. "Can I talk to you real quick?"

You knit your brows together, but you nod all the same, excusing yourself and following him into a secluded corner of the club, tilting your head as you look at him.

"What's up?"

"Who was that?"

The wrinkle between your eyebrows deepens. "You're talking about the kid? He's a fan of the band. He was just asking about my drumming."

He huffs a bit. "If he's a fan, he should know you have a boyfriend."

"Johnny."

His eyes aren't on you, instead drifting over your shoulder to glare at the person in question. "He bought you a drink."

You roll your eyes, slipping your fingers into his belt loops and pulling him closer. "It's just a coke, Johnny. Don't be like that." You press a kiss to his chin, leaning against him.

"Be like what? I'm not being like anything. 'M just not crazy about random dudes flirting with my girlfriend."

You bite back a laugh, hooking a finger in the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, kissing him softly. "You're cute when you're jealous."

He grumbles as you draw back, hands resting on your waist as he continues to avoid your eyes. "I'm not jealous. And I definitely wouldn't be jealous of that little rat."

"Mhm…whatever you say, babe." He finally looks at you fully, softening a bit at your smile. "I think you need to loosen up a bit. On me?"

You drag him back to the bar, and you're about to sit back down when he lifts you from the stool, taking your spot and pulling you down into his lap instead, and you fight against his strong hold in a weak attempt to get away. 

"You're so embarrassing. Let go."

His arms tighten around you, and any attempt to pry them from your waist is futile, hiding your flushed face in your hands as he chuckles. 

"I just wanna make sure everyone here knows you're already spoken for."

[amemenojaku]

I saw umineko stage ep3 today!! it was amazing. the quality level is insane. I got goosebumps several times and it even managed to make me tear up... everyone's performances felt like they all know their characters so well now 🥺🙏 the lights, costumes and choreography were all perfect too

some thoughts (major umineko spoilers obviously):

young eva/evatrice's performance in particular was just. literally perfect? the way she delivered her lines, carried herself, her laugh resounding onstage and the little things she did when she wasn't the center of attention were all 100% in character. she was adorable during the ceremony where she becomes the new beatrice, introducing herself to the goats and giggling w the 7 sisters, and she was absolutely terrifying in rosa's and maria's death scene. also mad props to the costume designer(s) who did her sailor outfit that turns into the witch outfit almost instantly

everything beato's actress did had me go :] there's a lot of cute beato scenes in ep3 and she was adorable in the goofy, endearing way og beato is in the story while still being cool and fun when needed in the other scenes

and last but not least eva's actress did an amazing job too, especially during the emotional scenes of her character (when she solves the riddle, finds the gold, hideyoshi's & george's deaths). her lungs' strength is impressive lol. it's been 4 hours and I still clearly remember her screams

overall I loved the way so many of the actors and actresses would just do little things when they were on stage but not in the spotlight/not talking, like the chiesters whispering in each others bunny ears instead of their human ears/covering their bunny ears because of loud noises, or the 7 sisters just jumping around and messing w each other, maria taking her notebook out of her bag and reading it, etc. they weren't just standing doing nothing and it always felt very in character, too. there was always something new no matter which part of the stage you're looking at

rudolf's actor looked and acted like he came straight out of a yakuza movie? ik he was already like that in the previous episodes but for some reason I felt it even more this time. might be because of the fight against the sisters before he and kyrie die (which was probably my favorite action scene btw. really cool choreography). I'm not complaining though. made me like the character even more

speaking of rudolf. at some point during one of the scenes where the adults discuss beato's first letter, he just... started massaging hideyoshi's shoulders? he did that for at least a full minute before hideyoshi's actor nodded as thanks and he stopped. I have no idea if this was part of the script or if the guys just decided it on their own??

when gohda does his night check of the mansion right before his death he was actually walking in the aisles with his lantern before he got up on stage!! he got to tell a joke and do some fun stuff before being killed and never being relevant again. rip

beato asking battler to give her a new name now that evatrice inherited hers, ronove on the side of the stage writing a stupid nickname on some paper to show her only for her to get annoyed, rip the paper from his hands and stomp on it

I don't know if this was done on purpose or not, but when eva fires the shot that blinds jessica and jessica accuses her of being the culprit, pointing at some random direction since she can't see anymore, she actually pointed at shannon's corpse on the sofa behind her. it could very well just be a coincidence. but. yea

krauss drinking straight from the fucking bottle during the golden land party scene at the end and getting completely smashed

ange!! she was so cool and cute. she punched the goats. I can't wait to see her in ep4 😭

battler literally Just Standing There at the very end, when ange and beato start duking it out before the episode's over 🧍

the curtain call was super cute. everyone got together to pose for the cameras before they realised beato wasn't here so they had kinzo cry for her in the infamous kinzo way and she graced them (and us) with her presence :)

battler's actor: "so we'll need your support -and- your gold for episode 4 to happen"

cat nanjo be upon ye

[dearest-kibble]

Atlas

A part one (the second is in the works and I'm going insane because i have a lotta ideas) Read on A03 here!

Tw: Stalking, (kind of?) suggestive content, general yandere-ness. It is slow to get to but very much there. Kinda goes from 1-100. Miguel is so sane he swears. I'm back to my dialogue loving ways. (If you think I've forgotten any tags please let me know!)

“Are — Are you okay?” There is a man bleeding in the alley behind your apartment. Profusely might you add. He doesn’t speak, just grunts at you and you notice — Spider-man. That’s Spider-man. He’s bleeding out in the alley. Without a single other thought you make your way towards him and rid yourself of your jacket. Spiderman cocks his head at you. “It’s not much. I know-” You tie it as tightly as you can around the wound. “But until I can get something better-” He shakes his head. “No?” He coughs. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes.” He painfully rasps and starts to push himself off the damp pavement. Immediately your hands are outstretched and willing to help support. A large shaky hand takes them and you try your best to pull him gently from the ground.

He doesn’t offer any thanks as he staggers out of the alleyway, just a small nod but you feel compelled - “Thank you Spider-Man.” You think he turns at that.

———————————-

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

“What, had a good night?” You don't have to look to see Phil's stupid smug face.

“Interesting night maybe.” You were still tired, worried and a little high on meeting Spider-man.

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?” You love your co-worker, he's nice. Really truly he is. But what you wouldn't do to give him a good punch.

“I had an interesting night, take it as you will.” No way in hell you're ever telling him about Spider-Man.

“So you totally fu-” You've never been more relieved for a potential rush.

“Hello! We’ve got a menu on the wall above the counter whenever you’re ready to order just let one of us up here know!” You turn around to smile at your customer only to realize you have to look up. And up and up, until you finally meet his gaze. His eyes meet yours and he quickly turns his gaze up towards the menu.

“Just let us know whenever you’re ready to order.” Your co-worker tacks on. He stands with posture that cannot be comfortable, not speaking a word. He’s the only customer and both you and your coworker share a glance. He has this undeniably defeated look in his eye, but he still stands tall - as if he’s forced to.

“-ato.” He finally mumbles

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t quite hear that.” You give him a smile as best you can and wait while he just… stands there,

“I said macchiato.” It is then that he stares you down. You can see so much so clearly. His piercing brown eyes, you’d thought they were defeated before but maybe that was just the bags around them. Now that he’s looking at you he seems… much less sad. Though placing that emotion is not something you’re up to the challenge of. They seem to lighten a little as he asks, “Are you going to ring me up?” He speaks flatly, not a single hint of inflection and his teeth seem to glint in the light strangely. Briefly you wonder if maybe it’s some sort of body modification that he got, you don’t see a terrible amount of fangs. He clears his throat and suddenly you realize you’ve just been standing there.

“Oh gosh - yes yes. Let me just-” You move to the POS “Right over here!” You chirp. “One final question, do you mean a traditional macchiato? Or one of the Stellarbucks ones?” He huffs a small chuckle from his nose and his lips twitch upwards, not quite into a smile but a ghost of one.

“Those aren’t macchiatos. Traditional.” You should've figured, he seems like a straight espresso, black coffee kinda guy.

“Alright we’ll bring it out when it’s ready.” He goes to sit in the corner, away from any windows and from a bag pulls a computer.

“Did he tip?” A whisper as your co-worker grabs one of the macchiato cups from atop the espresso machine.

“Don’t think so.” You whisper back.

“Asshole.” You can’t help but giggle a little.

“Oh c'mon, he doesn’t seem completely awful, He just seems a little awkward is all.”

“You’re just saying that cause you think he’s hot.”

“Where do you get your ideas? First it’s my ‘fun night’ and then it’s this.”

“And where do you find the time to flirt so much?” Phil smirks.

“I absolutely was not flirting.” You make sure to say it with authority.

“I mean he is hot.” Phil says this rather loudly, and gives you the shittiest grin to ever eat. “You seemed to be staring at him.”

“Eye contact is common courtesy!!” You hiss.

“And his macchiato is done and I’m not dealing with him, go get him, lovebird.” You roll your eyes and take a doily and the cup. You make it quickly to his seat where he is comically large compared to the table and chair. He’s spilling over the edges of his seat and his arms are so large they take up what little space his computer doesn’t.

“Alright, I’ve got your traditional macchiato, let me just…” You look for a spot to place it, and find nothing with everything on his table. “I don’t want to throw a wrench in your work. Where would you like for me to place it?”

“Here is fine.” He shifts awkwardly, shoving his arm to his side so you have space. He watches you place the doily first and as you gently set down his cup. Before you can turn and tell him to “enjoy!” he exhales and mumbles softly, “You’re good at your job. No one knows what a real macchiato is these days.”

“Thank you.” You say politely. “We serve both, enjoy!”

“Can I ask your name?” You turn, just to see his eyes on you, a little softer, just as sunken and he’s got that same smile, almost knowing. He takes a sip of his coffee. “You don’t need to answer.” His mouth opens again as if he’s about to speak and you see it again, his elongated canines scraping against the edge of his cup when he downs his macchiato. He gulps it down quickly and takes your wrist, placing the cup in your palm and curls your fingers around it. Eyes so fixated on your hand in his that when he finally looks up, they widen and he pulls away quicker than you’d’ve thought possible. He sits down immediately and focuses pointedly onto his screen. He mumbles again - a quick, “Thank you again. Good espresso.” He can’t bring himself to look at you anymore, but you nod as if he’s looking anyway.

“Thanks, it's Peruvian!” He stares ahead just at his screen. Nods. “Just let us know if you need anything else.” He nods again and you walk back to the counter.

“So, how was it?”

“He’s-”

“You like him don’t you?”

“Would you stop with that? He’s strange,” You think back to his hand under yours, take a deep breath because even he was clearly surprised by his behavior. “But that’s all.”

“F’you say so.” Phil shrugs.

The rest of the day is painfully slow. Just an occasional latte or cappuccino. Nothing interesting. It’s as you’re closing that you see him again. Just as tall, just as weighed down. He still cannot bring himself to look at you when he murmurs “My name is Miguel. Have a good evening.” And he briskly walks out the door, bell ringing behind him. When you clean his table you find five dollars cash and a note in neat handwriting. “Best espresso I’ve had in a while. Will be back.” You pocket the money with a small smile, and take a second - you should split it with Phil, shouldn’t you. You sigh when you walk back and put it in the tip jar, and smile when you tuck it into the envelope labeled “tips”. You finish cleaning quickly, and start your trek back to your apartment. It’s a quick, brisk walk - chilly in the fall. You’d’ve thought after Spider-Man’s visit last night that maybe, your block would’ve been quieter. But the outskirts of Nueva York are never really quiet as you near your building, petty thieves run out of the grocers’ and it’s all you can do to pass by - who knows what could happen if you got involved. They scurry away with their money and goods and you come face to face with your door.

Held tightly to the metal with faint red webs and a note that reads “thanks again, S. M.”, is your jacket. You tug at the webbing, noting the slight warmth and strange pulse that it seems to have. Thrumming softly as you pull it away. Your jacket has clearly been cleaned, impressively might you add as for the amount of blood that seemed to be on it, there isn’t a single stain. You press your palm to your door and put your jacket on as it verifies your identity. You catch a glimpse of the blue and red suit from your kitchen window, he must’ve caught those thieves too!

The next day is bright and early, you put on your jacket for a brisk morning walk, spending your time before work amongst the carefully manicured trees with a sandwich for breakfast. Phil isn’t there when you clock in, and a quick check of your schedule tells you he won’t be there - you’re on your own today (and apparently the rest of the week). So you buckle down, set up the portafilters and check the espresso for the day - (light almond flavoring, all natural - the bean is kind).The morning is steady, different drinks, no terrible customers. Midday slows, no lunch rush today. Your evening is interesting. It gets busy around three o’clock, an entire line that on a Thursday, isn’t common. They’re asking for cortados, specialty drinks, modified with oat, soy and coconut - a never ending onslaught of everything you serve. The pastries you had set out that morning were all gone not even fifteen minutes after three and the line only grew and grew and grew. But you keep your composure. Deep breaths and glances to the tip jar have gotten you through rushes before, it’ll get you through one now. The line starts to dwindle around four thirty. Slowly, slowly thinning and exiting the shop. You are almost completely sold out of pastries and your coffee supply is running a little higher than your energy; not very. That’s when he finally enters again. Miguel(?), from yesterday. With the macchiato.

“Welcome back in,” You try your best to sound enthusiastic for a returning customer but you can’t help the exasperation seeping through. “What can we get you today?”

“Black-eye.” His eyes flit to you. “Please.” And back to the ground as they had been when he entered.

“That’s easy enough, we’ve got good espresso today.” You give him a nod.

“It was good yesterday.”

“But it’s better today, trust me.” You punch his order into the POS, “Oh, preference on single origin?” You smile at him again.

“What’s your lightest roast?” He tilts his head and the corners of his mouth twitch.

“Oh you need caffeine that badly? It’s our Ethiopia.” He shakes his head in amusement.

“No I,” He catches himself, “Yes I need the caffeine.” You start setting up the pour over, 21 grams and a gooseneck.

“What, you have late shifts or something?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Think I can imagine. I have to deal with Phil half the time. Love that kid but god-” He exhales out his nose again, “So anyway, what do you do? Miguel, right?” You're halfway through, one eye on the coffee another on him. At the mention of his name his face drops. His face goes blank, eyes closed and he starts to turn.

“Same place as yesterday.”

“Alright.” Well so much for conversation. You turn as you make your last pour, and switch the espresso machine on, pour the shots and then the coffee. You take the mug and start over to the same table he was hunched over yesterday.

“Your black-eye.” He takes the cup from you this time, pulls it from your hand and doesn’t place it down.

“Do you…” His eyes dart to the side as he trails off, seems to stop himself.

“Oh?”

“Was just going to ask about coffee cake.”

“Oh yes! There is a single one left in the back, would you like it?”

“No.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything else.” He hums in response, sipping at his coffee and turning to his screen. You walk back to continue cleaning up the shop - with the rush of the day it’ll take longer to have it all cleaned and fixed. Your boss was born in 2037, and liked to do things the old fashioned way. No automated cleaning, no voice activated espresso, everything you did was done by hand in this shop. You supposed that maybe that’s what makes your cafe unique or popular, the antiquity of it. You knock the remaining pucks, cringing at the sound as you do, mop the floor, restock just about everything in the shop and even then you still have more to do it seems.

“What time do you close?” He puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you on your way to check the table and chair positions.

“We close in,” You look to your shoulder, and immediately his hand is merely hovering, no longer resting on your shoulder. You continue slowly. “About ten minutes.”

“You’re an incredibly hard worker.” He stands, collecting his screens and pushing in his chair.

“Thanks,”

“It’s -” He cuts himself off again, wincing to himself and pinching his nose. “Nevermind.”

“Have a nice evening!” He bobs his head and doesn’t look back. The next day is slow. Rainy, dreary, cloudy - all of it. And the people willing to come out in this weather… well they all live in the undercity. Y’know - where the weather never changes. It’s a good day for the old jazz music on “Bluetooth” speakers, cozying up with some tea or coffee and setting up to do some computer work yourself. It’s cozy, you alone in the shop at seven in the morning, pastries put on display, coffee by your side and non-work related work set up on the counter. Eventually after sorting your affairs, you turn to check the state of the shop - maybe that Miguel guy would come again today, you might’ve gained a painfully awkward customer these past two days. Maybe it’ll be a different regular, someone seeking shelter from the pouring rain that refuses to drizzle. Maybe you won’t have any customers and you’re forced to go home and catch up on all the things you’ve been meaning to - ever since Spider-Man returned your jacket your door seems to have had some slight issues. You suppose the lock being a kind of genetics based lock (or something? Your landlady would know,) had some strange reaction to Spider-Man’s webs. Which makes perfect sense if you’re honest, if they’re any kind of biological creation they’d have to be a little strange to a door meant to scan a palm. Make it malfunction maybe. So yeah, if it’s a slow day you’d love to make it back and make sure your door isn’t going haywire and that you haven’t been robbed. The rain continues to pound against the windows, showing no sign of stopping. You decide to make yourself a drink and watch the day. The jazz is soft and the rain is loud, the view out the windows is limited, only showing the faint glow of signs reflected in puddles and the occasional passerby.

About two hours in you settle into working on your own thing. The rule is three hours no customers, and you can close. Just one more to go. You’re doing your fourth patrol of the shop when you look out the window again. It’s too rainy to tell exactly who it is, but from a distance you see a silhouette. They seem to be facing the shop, but it is a silhouette, maybe their back is facing the shop. They aren’t holding an umbrella, though maybe it was one of those less affordable nanotechnology devices to keep rain off, and they stand as you watch them (really this is the most interesting thing in hours, the fact that the rain has cleared enough to see the outline). The sign across the street flickers slightly and they flinch at the burst of light amidst the gloom. Eventually you realize how creepy it is of you to stare at someone who’s probably got their back turned to the shop and you go back to pacing. You can’t help but look on your fifth round though, to see if they’re still there.

They stay there for an hour in fact, get a little closer too, so you can tell that the body is masculine. He absolutely is facing the shop, looming closer and closer to the window. He lingers for not even a minute before you see him shake his head, finally take a step to the left and continue away from the shop. You’re left standing and still staring out the window, already possessing the idea to call and report the strange occurrence. You’re stalking your way over even, towards the counter to make a call when the bell finally rings.

“Hello good mornin-” You’re interrupted by a tiny little laugh and take a closer look at the customer in front of you. “And good morning to you too!” You give his daughter a smile and wave gently. She opens and closes her fist in response.

“Hey hey! Would you mind,” Her father gives you a nod and digs around in a large pocket of a pink bathrobe and pulls out some outdated cell phone. “Getting just a few pictures of us? It’s her first time in a coffee shop and I wanna capture the moment.” He holds the brick out to you over the counter and gives you a lazy - but winning, smile. “Thank you, thank you - oh her mother is gonna love this,”

“What’s her name?” You snap a picture.

“Oh this little angel? Mayday!” She coos adorably at her name. “Yep that’s you kid!” He ruffles her hair and you snap another picture.

“Isn’t she just the cutest little baby you’ve ever seen?”

“She’s adorable! You, her father and Mayday all agree with a round of laughter.

“Names Peter, by the way!” He holds his daughter up like that ancient, animated classic with lions and you grab another photo.

“Nice to meet you.”

“My good friend has been stopping in the past few days, mumbling about a good cup of coffee.” The man sets down a drenched umbrella in the stand you keep near the door as he speaks.

“Good friend, do you mea-'' It's right then that the bell rings again. Mayday coos gently at the noise and a sopping wet regular of three days stands on your welcome mat.

“There you are! Miguel, buddy!” Peter claps a hand on his back and Mayday reaches her chubby hand forward.

“I don’t recall telling you about this place.”

“Didn’t have to, s’nice little joint.” He gives you a smile to ignore Miguel’s glare. “And I mean, buddy! You gotta admit you’ve been a little happier these past few days. Wanted to check and see how good this coffee is myself.”

“Do you even drink coffee?” Miguel raises an eyebrow at the man and looks at his very evident lack of coffee.

“Ah,” the man sighs good-naturedly, “Right uh… cappuccino?” You pass back his old phone as you nod.

“Yep, can do! For you?” You turn to Miguel to discover he’s already looking at you.

“Macchiato.” He looks at the child who found her way onto his shoulders and scowls lightly; clearly with no real malice.

“Sure!” Their drinks are simple and Peter wrangles his daughter away from Miguel and they make their way to a slightly larger table. When you bring their drinks, they are mid conversation and you notice that either the man is oblivious or just doesn’t care because Miguel obviously isn’t very interested in what he has to say.

“I’m a geneticist.” He says exasperatedly as you place down each cup. Peter nods at you as you place his coffee and pats a third chair with another winning smile that Mayday echoes. You take a look at the door and then the window. The rain has only gotten worse. You sit and hope for riveting conversation. Miguel gives you a hum of acknowledgement and you join the tables’ conversation and Peter jumps to include you.

“You’re a — see isn’t that great? You know someone for so long and you just,” He gives Miguel a hearty clap on the back and Mayday giggles at the scoff that the larger man gives. “You keep learning things about ‘em. Isn’t that amazing? You can know someone for so long and never know enough huh.” Peter takes a sip of his cappuccino. “Oh my, oh that - that really is fantastic. Miguel buddy, you really know your coffee.” Miguel rolls his eyes and looks towards you. “See he’s always like this! Always this deep broody guy with the weight of the world on his shoulders and he just keeps piling more and more on — that’s why they’re so big y’know — and he just keeps pushing away any relief.” Mayday babbles a little at this as if she’s very wisely agreeing and no one at the table seems to notice the chord that appears to have struck Miguel. “Mhm yep that’s right Daddy’s right about that one, isn’t he!” He presses a kiss to his daughter’s head and Miguel seems to cheer up a little at the laughter that rises. “See if he just took some time for himself-”

“That’s why I’m at a coffee shop.” He mutters to himself, and you know enough Spanish to catch ‘idiot’ “This was time for myself.” He looks to you like he can’t believe he has to put up with this man.

“Yes but you’re always working!” And you think about that for a second because if Miguel is always working, how didn’t Peter know that he was a geneticist. They were close friends after all.

“So Peter, what do you do?”

“Oh I’m a house husband.” He stretches his arms and postures himself proudly. “Yep.” He elongates the word, pops the p for emphasis. “That’s all I ever do. Nothin else.”

“That is all you do. Yes.” Miguel deadpans.

“If you’re a geneticist, mind if I ask?” You speak up and less ill tempered than you thought he might be, Miguel turns to you. “My apartment door has been having a few issues, it’s one of those genetic locks, put a hand on it and it’ll open for you.”

“A little outdated.” He comments.

“Don’t live in a very new apartment, but anyway - very recently it seems to be having some issues?” He seems to sit up as you say this, Peter is playing with Mayday and half paying attention.

“What kinds of issues?” There’s a hard edge to his voice that it almost seems he had tried to shave off. “If you are,” he coughs.

“Comfortable sharing.” You look at him for a bit, both Mayday and Peter have stopped to pay attention.

“Well, recently my door has been malfunctioning a little. I think my neighbor’s kid is getting in because my chairs or tables have moved.”

“M’not gonna have to worry about that with you will I?” Peter pokes his daughter’s cheek gently and smiles. “No I'm not! No I’m not!” Miguel seems to contemplate his response deeply before,

“Are you sure it’s not just old?” He raises a stern eyebrow at you.

“I mean it is, but this is the only issue I've ever had with it; only issue anyone in the building has reported. And we’ve got a classic elevator.” Miguel grumbles at this and doesn’t say anymore. You sit in silence for a little bit, the only sound being the rain and Mayday’s warbles.

“Well, thank you for allowing me to sit-” You almost excuse yourself before Miguel speaks again. There’s something in the way that his hands seem to scrabble at the table and how his eyes seem to widen as you stand from your chair.

“I want to,” Peter and you both turn to look at him as he stares at the cup in front of him. Peter’s eyes widen very unsubtly, “I want to ask you your favorite kind of coffee.” His fingers tap against his biceps.

“Working here made me try a lot of it, and made me realize I like all of it. So I don’t really have a favorite.”

“That’s a good outlook! What’s not to like?” Peter stops abruptly to check his phone. He looks back up frantically. “I gotta get goin though, it’s Miss May’s nap time and she gets real cranky when she misses it. See you later Miguel,” he raises his cup towards you, “Excellent coffee. Really, just exquisite.” He sets his cup down on the table, looks between you and Miguel and puts Mayday back into her little carrier before pulling his umbrella from the holder by the door and exiting into the pouring rain. You see him dash into the street away and dart to the right.

“I,” Miguel starts but the words seem to catch in his throat like they always do.

“You,” You give him a smile “C’mon, talk to me! You’re a regular now,” You take a second to formulate your thoughts. What Peter said explains a lot about his more awkward behaviors. “And probably need someone to talk to if Peter’s right. Don’t keep depriving yourself of joy.” Unlike the previous days where he had avoided your eyes, suddenly he stares into them. You have to wonder, were they always tinged with that red? You had thought they were brown when he first came in, now they're flecked with a ring of maroon. He takes a small sip of his previously untouched coffee and takes a second before responding.

“I was going to ask if you think you’ll be open all day today.” He keeps a straight face, you’re pretty sure there's a hint of warmth in his voice though. “The rain.” He taps the window pane with a large finger.

“Well Miguel,” You don’t notice the way his hand clutches the table, the tense of his shoulders or the lurch in his seat at his name. “I think I’ll be closing early today. Gonna get home, see if I can get that door issue fixed.” You grab Peter’s empty cup and hold it with both hands, offering Miguel a polite smile and nod.

“You’re a hard worker.” He smiles and stands, placing his tiny cup on the table. “It’s refreshing to see. Also very kind.” He pauses before taking a breath and continuing to mutter, “Stupidly kind.” He approaches you slowly. Hands on his hips looking down at you with red eyes. He reaches a hand out, close enough to your cheek that you can feel the warmth radiating from it. He leans down so that your foreheads almost touch, and gently speaks, “Are you sure you’re safe by yourself?” You take a second to process that. Blink as he still looks into your eyes. “You smell good, by the way. Noticed it when I first came in, better than I imagined.” And everything seems to speed up, the rain is louder, your heartbeat palpitates uncomfortably and you hear the blood rushing through your body. He’s been a regular for three days. He’s taken your hand, pat your shoulder and asked your name. He stood outside your shop for an hour this very morning.

“I’m sorry sir, we closed ten minutes ago.” You blink away the tears in your eyes, and try to compose yourself as you say the words.

“What happened to Miguel?” He whispers the words so gently, so strangely vulnerable. His hand lingers by your cheek, fingers twitching. He groans. He shakes his head violently as if it'll make him stop whatever he’s doing. He turns and stands to his full height, eyes leaving yours again. He doesn’t say a word to you as he leaves the shop. You watch him walk slowly into the rain as he leaves and you make sure he doesn’t turn. Immediately you lock the door to the shop, flip the sign to ‘closed’ and pull the blinds. You contact your boss telling them you're closing early and set your sights on getting in touch with law enforcement. The hurdles you have to jump just to get a safe ride home are astounding. Calling the local P.D proves to be useless as all you have are ‘Miguel’ with no last name and ‘abnormally tall’ and those two descriptors don’t get you anywhere. But your distress does seem to affect the other end of the line with some amount of pity, as they dispatch a vehicle to take you home. All it took was a stalker, sobbing your eyes out to a cop and bang, safe ride home with someone comforting you and a shock blanket. Simple really. Oh the joys of being stalked.

“This is where Spider-Man has been hanging out these last few days!” The cop says as you reach your complex. It’s clearly meant to comfort you. “That guy makes the whole city safer, but I don’t gotta tell you that,” They sound like they’re giving you a smile. “Well best be on your way, stay safe and contact us if anything happens, okay?” They point towards the lapel of your jacket, to the Spider-Man pin you got just last week. “Tell ya what, we’ll put in a word with him when we see him next, have him look out for ya.” The cop will probably forget about this in the next few hours and it’ll probably never get back to him, but it’s a kind gesture.

“Thank you.” You exit the vehicle, looking every which way in the rain, checking for shadows along the walls of your complex. You all but run to your apartment and look desperately around for anything taken or misplaced, when you find nothing you turn to your chairs. You’re careful when you stack them against the door. You forgo food and drink in favor of grabbing the emergency metal pipe and decide to sit on your bed to wait for the other shoe to drop. It doesn’t. For hours and hours and hours. The stormy weather never lets up even as it grows darker.

Absolutely nothing seems to happen, save the loud cacophony from outside as Neuva York wakes for the second time of the day, nightlife not being stopped even for the rainstorm. You hear the shouting, the screeches, the loud music that you’ve grown accustomed to sleeping through and like that old classically conditioned dog, it makes you yawn. You look at your malfunctioning door and the small — hopefully effective — barricade and clench your fist tighter around the pipe. Falling asleep now would mean missing if anything were to happen, you try to drill this into your mind, bash it in like it’s a window. No glass shatters to keep you awake however and uneasily you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the city.

You wake up to Spider-Man (suddenly you’re able to identify that broad frame, the shocking height and burdened shoulders of Spider-Man who you’d seen three days ago.) leering over your sleeping body. Even if you can’t see his eyes he’s clearly staring at you. For a second you don’t move, try not to breathe as your heart hammers against your ribs. He doesn’t move for what feels like hours as he stares, he must know by now that you’re awake. The neon glow from the window is dull in the night and the rain has finally stopped, no more clubs blast their music. It’s just you and Spider-Man - Miguel.

You take a deep breath and your heart races and suddenly you can feel the metal pipe in your hand. You tighten your grip and immediately swing your wrist as hard as you can.

He stops it with a hand and tears it from your hand. He gives a disappointed growl, and bends the pipe with ease between his two hands.

“I was,” He sighs deeply. “Impulsive today. I had meant to be slow about it. Meant to be patient.” You cannot bring yourself to move as he continues to speak. “Because I am,” His voice spikes suddenly and he sees you flinch. Spider-Man softens his voice, “Patient.” He groans, turns away from staring at you - finally you can breathe again - and bashes his hand against your wall. “It was going to be weeks,” He cannot seem to help himself now, voice raising slowly as he sweeps back to where you are unable to move on your bed. “Until I would talk to you,” You cannot see him from behind the mask. You imagine him with the same stern eyes, haggard and a sneer if his tone is anything to go on. “But you,” His body heaves and before you can throw yourself from the bed and make a break for the door, a monstrous hand finds the back of your head. Fingers card tenderly through your hair before another hand appears on your hip and wrenches your entire body up, face forcibly made to look at his mask as it gives way to blindingly red eyes, iris sclera and pupil all flooded with the sickening red that blood often starts as. “You wanted this.” He softens, as he looks at you, “You wanted my impatience, didn’t you?” His eyes dart to your Spider-Man pin and he gently moves the hand on your hip so that it’s his forearm beneath your thighs and presses you closer to his chest so that you feel his lips drag on the top of your head. “If I had known I would’ve just taken you with me three nights ago.” He releases your grasp on your hair, and you pull away to see the red of his eyes recede like the beach before a tsunami. “See what you do?” He pats your cheek softly, “I’ll make it up to you. You’ve been nothing but foolish and kind. I’ll make this easier, stay still for me.” He offers you that same small smile, and pushes your head upwards to his cheek. You can feel his erratic heartbeat against your chest as Miguel nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck once more before taking a deep whiff of you and while you’re too busy trying to hold back the bile in your throat, he crumples into you and sighs as if this was the happiest he'd been in years. You feel his lips part against your skin and it feels like bugs crawling on you when he rumbles against your neck. You try your best to block out the tender mutterings of “You’re sweeter than….” and “Made for me,” before you feel his fangs sink delicately into your skin.

You pass out from the shock and pain before you feel the warmth of his venom.

[pixaho]

White Rascals With Girlfriends

♥ Pairing | White Rascals and girlfriends :> ♥ AU? No |

♥ Warnings | Mentions of violence, drinking, smoking, and NSFW stuff ;)

M.LIST H&L LIST

R☺CKY

♦ FIRST MEET

Rocky met you when he was doing dangerous jobs before forming White Rascals. You had been walking when you noticed a young man fighting a group of black-clothed people. Thinking he was in trouble, you grabbed a near by officer and pointed him to the group. Rocky would later thank you with a coffee and or tea.

♦ DATES

His date choices are usually a restaurant, a picnic, or at home dinner date. He knows how to cook so majority of your dates are at home. He only settles for a restaurant if its a special occasion or a picnic if its a nice day out.

♦ FIRST TIME

Your first time together was magical as Rocky made sure that everything would go to a decent plan. His mistake was honestly not all bad, as he forgot to turn off his phone while you guys were at it and it lowkey drove him insane with the absurd amount of texts from others.

♦ ARGUING

You and Rocky argue from time to time. This is typically about him overworking and spending more time fighting, which usually left him injured beyond your eyes. This can also be about him taking his anger out through other ways, such as using a punching bag and not noticing when you were there.

♦ JEALOUS

Rocky doesn't get really jealous but rather annoyed when he sees someone flirting with you and possibly making you uncomfortable. His whole motto is that the White Rascals don't harass or hurt women so he makes sure that the person who is making you seemingly uncomfortable, doesn't get to see the light of Club Heaven ever again.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

K☺☺

♦ FIRST MEET

Surprise, you meet Koo at Club Heaven. You thought he was a butler until he introduced himself as the subleader of White Rascals. The only actual reason he had introduced himself to you was because you were drunk and asking questions, but you still remembered everything about him.

♦ DATES

Unlike Rocky, Koo isn't that great at hosting dates. This leads to him asking Rocky to then asking Kizzy and then finally just asking you what you wanted to do for date night because well he's not the brightest for dates.

♦ FIRST TIME

Koo is one of the only people to not make an entire mistake but rather a little one. He also doesn't rush around to make sure everything is comfortable and good because he prefers comfortable stuff anyways. His tiny mistake was breaking his hand before you guys did it. He had a cast on for the whole time.

♦ ARGUING

Arguments between you and Koo are rare but he has a calm personality and will search for any points to make things right. If he's wrong, he's quick to admit it. If he isn't, he tends to sit down and explain it. Bonus, if he is wrong, he'll let you paint his finger nails (only white but a pale pink or blue can be painted). (KOO IS BBG YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE)

♦ JEALOUS

Silent jealousy type of person. He'll just death stare the person he's jealous of and then remember that he doesn't need to be jealous of them and they should be jealous of him because he has you. He will not let the person know he's jealous.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

KIZZY & KAIT☺

♦ FIRST MEET

You ran into Kizzy whilst at a Library doing research for a paper. She was with Kaito and they seemed to have been getting something for Rocky. You already knew Rocky, you just didn't know the others so you strike up a conversation with them. You guys seem to get along even if Kaito seemed uninterested.

♦ DATES

Kizzy is the one who makes the dates and has the help of Kaito. Although they are very different people, they seem to coordinate everything very well, even with you. If they can't come up with an idea, they usually ask you what you want to do. If you keep your relationship a secret from the other gangs, they'll settle for movie cuddles. This is where you have a movie night and cuddle. <3

♦ FIRST TIME

Kizzy and you actually did it in a hot tub. You were both sober and just flirting, plus giggling. Kaito wasn't there for it but he didn't hear the end of it from Kizzy. She did make a mistake which was knocking the temperature a few degrees higher which made it feel like it was boiling hot. With Kaito, it was after you got home from a long day at work. He was in the bed room reading when you walked in and dropped everything to help you relax. Let's just say a massage went from a massage and turned into you guys fucking.

♦ ARGUING

Arguments between you three happen half the time. This is typically because of them getting hurt or leaving a container in the fridge that is empty. Kizzy is the first to apologize and make things right with Kaito being more stubborn, but Kizzy always makes him apologize somehow.

♦ JEALOUS

If you are even flirting with another person, Kaito is quick to grab you away and bring you where people won't flirt with you. He's the more jealous one out of the two as he doesn't like others touching what's his. Whereas Kizzy doesn't care as much, just as long as you are being safe.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

(Couldn't find 3 people sleeping so just imagine it's Kaito, Kizzy, and then you.)

♦ HOW YOU KISS

Kizzy ^ Kaito v

I know a lot of people might be upset by this, but I didn't include the last few White Rascal members because 1. You don't get much on them and even though we get to see Aizawa, Enari, Bito, and Shimura, you don't get enough of their actual personalities for me to write on. 2. As for the others (Heidi, Marco, Lassie, and Cosette) again not much information and I also didn't know how to write them with girlfriends. Maybe at some point I'll end up coming back and editing this or I'll make a part 2 where I finally come back and put Heidi, Marco, Lassie, and Cosette, but as for now I think I'm not going to do that. I don't mean to make people whose favorite characters are those 4 feel like I'm not showing or caring for them, it's just with characters with little screen time where you don't get much about them makes it hard. Thank you for understanding.

♥ Mutuals; @talusional @dillpick (since you like stalking my page haha! <3)

[very-straight-blog]

This might sound funny and cringey, but I feel like I lost something I cared about and now it's just sadness and depression. Like it's a TV show, I get it, but we waited 2 years and for what? To get the two worst episodes imaginable. I'm really starting to believe that Sapochnik was responsible for everything good in s1, bcz Condal and Hess ruined this show. S1 wasn't perfect and I didn't like a lot of things in it, but it still managed to keep me invested so I hoped that in s2 everything would be improved. And yet, I'm so terribly disappointed. Alicent's characterization makes no sense anymore, like they want so badly to show her as a bad mother and a hypocrite and really - after ruining bnc with Alicole sex now it had to follow with her not being able to console her son but hoping on Criston is a must do?? What sort of degenerates write this??

Aemond is also ruined for me and I would love to erase that crappy brothel scene from my memory. What was it for? To show his mommy issues, vulnerability... Idc. The dialogue was bad and they did him dirty with the angles and the pose. And now he's apparently going to be there *again* in e3 and we'll get full frontal nudity. Idk why the actor agreed to this since they are obviously making a joke and meme material of his character. Not to mention that he straight up lied in the promos about being loyal (if the RR leaks are true and I'm almost 100% sure they are). I get that they are told what to say, but a more general answer would have been much better than a lie. In brief, one of my favourite s1 characters is also destroyed.

Then Cole. My god, I only waithig for him to look at the camera and say "do you hate me enough already hahah?" He's the writers punching bag atp.

Helaena barely exists.

Otto is Viserys' fanboy and ofc, appalled by his grandson. It's not as he just has lost a son and was forced to take the crown in the first place by him and his mother, no less.

Aegon got more screentime and I love Tom's performance, but I'm not fooled. He is still depicted as weak, politically inept and rash. And he'll still be a bully, apparently. Just to justify his brother's treason. F*ck you Condal, Hess and whoever else is responsible for this mess.

Anyway, sorry for the rant. I just don't get how anyone can seriously praise this shitshow anymore. It could have been great, but the creators are obviously not up to the task which is now painfully obvious. I wouldn't mind the greens as villains, but don't write them as a walking joke. I'm quitting the show and would like just to forget about it. This adaptation of the Dance was a huge mistake.

I feel you! By the way, I haven't participated in any fandom life, I think, for 10 years or more, but thanks to HOTD, I started this blog, I write some critical (well, kinda) reviews, and English isn't even my native language. I've been waiting for the second season for two years and now I just feel tired and empty. So far, the only thing I've liked about these two episodes is Aegon's storyline, that's all. Everything else is bad, very bad, and judging by the leaks, it'll be even worse.

Firstly, the series has a very strange pace of the narrative. We didn't get a bunch of important plot scenes, and even those that remained were shown in a hurry, but at the same time we have many scenes like "Rhaenyra stares at the dust for three minutes", unnecessary dialogues and PAUSES between lines.

Secondly, again, an insane amount of important plot details are left behind the scenes and this is absolutely wrong. Aemond's return home, the family's reaction to what he did. Aegon's reaction when he learned of his son's death. Aemond's reaction when he finds out what his actions have led to. And so on and so forth. Many of the characters' actions are shown without context. Alicent fucks with Criston - cool, but can I have some additional information? How long has this been going on, what feelings do they have for each other, how have they developed, like, anything? The same can be said about the scene in the brothel - no context.

Thirdly, it's unclear what's going on with the characters, as if the screenwriters decided to make the greens the most unpleasant people in the world. So far, I only like Aegon and Helaena. I can't even say anything about Aemond, because his only dialogue scene is built around Daemon and Luke, damn them. I just can't.

Everything annoys me except Aegon lol. So yes, I understand you.

[kerubimcrepin]

Wakfu Manga - Tome 5, Part 1

Cute Joris.

Cynthia Leman's art is wonderful, however, I am going to miss Said Sassine's art greatly... It was a very iconic part of the manga.

"Joris has only one precept: justice" Yeah we noticed. And it's totally not paving him some sort of road to hell as we speak.

When I first read this manga I burst out laughing to the point of tears at the line "my womb is frozen" and I am still giggling to myself about it — though knowing it's coming up has long took away the sheer comical punch that it had back then.

I'm sorry, but this is so unserious.

Of course he'd be the one carrying all the Dofus...

Btw, no, this is not the death of my "during this entire manga Joris keeps his stupid battle-stump in his haven bag, which he actually has" theory. I don't think he'd like to have six dofus in his haven bag. Or anywhere near his belongings.

Creature.

Joris's many gentle hypocrisy moments is him going "well it would be very dangerous..." at the idea of battling Jiva, and then, a while later, going "fine, you are my little pogchamp, Yugo" at the idea of using them to save Tristepin.

It's in-character for many reasons, by the way. (AKA: ughh Yugo will be sad, ughhh Kerubim will be sad if kids are orphaned, ughh maybe Jiva won't kill the kids, ughh we could finally defeat Ogrest, uhghh—)

Very pretty Joris.

The idealogical debate of "nobody should have nukes" and "I, Yugo, should have nukes because I'm a good boy" has sadly been resolved, and not in Adamai's favor, as of season 4. Surely, the world will not suffer for it.

He should be scared and nervous more often.

With every passing year, every new thing revealed about Waven and the Great Wave manga, this exchange gets more and more funny.

Rare moment of Joris being genuine and emotionally truthful. Best not to get used to it, btw.

He is so well-drawn here... I really like it when his cheeks, cheekbones, or the face shape in general, is visible.

Joris looks so shocked, it's funny. Buddy, this happened to you like twice growing up. Kerubim literally also decided to keep you or something.

Real

😰👍

"tap tap tap"

">.<"

Bug.

The definition of insanity is making a little guy run again and again in an active warfare, and he gets exploded each time, but you keep telling him you'll hold the explosions back this time, every time.

DFKSADJGUIODSFGDJSOFGHSDOFUIGHDSFGHDSFKGHDSFKLJ

THIS MANGA IS WIN AFTER WIN AFTER WIN AFTER WIN FOR US, JORIS FANS!!!!!! Joris being hurt. You agree. Reblog.

His snork mimimi face after being beaten into unconsciousness is everything.

So pretty...

Man, in their eyes, he's actually cool and a badass, isn't he?

Real friends get K.O'd together

This is a very good illustration... I can't just crop it!

:(

And of course the thing Joris is most worried about is Dofus.

Though I guess logically, the kids aren't in any danger, which is why his priorities are so screwed up. Jiva has proven that she can keep a child alive for a year, and is merely mentally ill about adoption, so obviously, Joris is more worried about other things <3 (HE IS NOT NORMAL OR SANE FOR SAYING THIS!!!!)