#i can't part with this bubble tool

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Riot Kings, page 180

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[triviallytrue]

Ignoring situations involving doxxing (which are more serious but also less common and easier to protect yourself from), the main goal of sustained harassment on here is to get you to delete your blog. You can probably keep most of your friends by adding them on discord or whatever, but the underlying logic in these cases is "you are a person who exists on the same part of the internet I use, and I want that to stop."

I reject the idea that moderation will ever be a solution to this problem, at least not without creating new, worse problems. But tumblr can and should provide users better tools for defending themselves.

Let's talk about tumblr's private blog feature. You can password-protect a blog, so that users have to enter the password before being able to see and interact with your posts. This is barely a step above deleting your blog.

You need to manually share this password with everyone you want to have access to the blog, which does not scale to a following in the thousands. You need to hope that no one ever leaks the password to your harassers, in which case your only recourse is to change the password and manually reshare it, again. This is a Bad System.

What does a good system look like? Consider twitter's private account feature. All your followers are preserved, but future followers have to ask to follow your blog. If you block a follower, they can't just create a new account and dodge the block - they're locked out. You keep your blog, you keep your following, you keep your friends, and no one outside your bubble can touch you.

There are still downsides here compared to not being harassed at all - people who don't already follow you can't see your posts - but it gives you a way to turn off the harassment spigot that can be easily reversed if/when your harassers get bored.

Combine this with a feature ideally for both private and public blogs (allowing only people you follow to reblog or reply) and I think the situation on this site improves a lot.

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

TADC: Thoughts on Jax in Episode 2

Thoughts on Jax after Amazing Digital Circus Episode 2 Dropped.

Massive spoilers below the cut. Just watch the ep before you read.

Amazing Digital Circus had an amazing second episode as we're introduced more to what the adventures are like, and what NPCs are like and ofc the existential horror of being a living AI only created for a source of entertainment.

Also, I love the dream sequence at the beginning, because we actually get some deeper insight into Pomni's thoughts on Ragatha. Feeling like her helpfulness is the guise of like "man, you're not cut out for this like the rest of us" which is typically something a lot of people who have been bullied in highschool perceive genuine acts of kindness and engagement. (which I kind of suspect Pomni might have been, or at least, been a shut-in and didn't have a lot of friends in her human life. )

Jax wasn't really the main focus of the episode, but it wasn't really until the end of the episode I understood his behavior and what this episode is foreshadowing overall.

Since while Jax isn't the focus emotionally, he is definitely the plot device to push things forward. And I mean, a plot device in a very active and quite literal way. He's the one that causes Pomni to clip out of the map, takes advantage of everyone and is just... genuinely an unpleasant person.

I actually really like this.

As, I know the first episode in the digital circus, many people (me included) could perceive or analyze Jax's actions as someone who is "helping" in a roundabout asshole way. Episode Two has none of that here. He just wants Bloodshed, And I love that we're getting additional context on his character.

It's hard to tell how much fan reception Gooseworx saw of episode one before episode two hit production, so I don't know how much of the fandom perception of Jax had an influence on the writing process, but I can't deny that might have been a factor in assuring us "no he's not secretly helpful, he's just an asshole" But I'm just going to assume that this has been part of his characterization from the start and it becomes way more clear as the episode goes on.

But there was something in his behavior throughout this whole episode that seemed off to me. Like Jax was taking up a majority of the B-plot, while Pomni had the A-plot. So I was wondering why Jax seemed to be the protagonist with the B-plot when Pomni was the A-plot when they seemed to be so disconnected with eachother in motivations and telling us things about the characters.

But then it hit me when the episode ended and the two plots merged together.

"who... knows... what could happen..."

And then it hit me.

Pomni finds comfort in an NPC who is going through a similar experience to her and can emphasize, despite their being other humans who have gone through the same thing, due to her self-admitting to being a loner in her human life. Well, she didn't admit it outright, but from how she perceives Ragatha's kindness as an act, or patronizing, it seems like she doesn't have a lot of friends...

Meanwhile... Jax... He treats the adventure like a videogame. Why shouldn't he? He's trapped in a videogame, right? But it really goes beyond that.

The fellow humans that Jax is trapped with, he treats THEM like they're NPCs, while Pomni treats the NPC like they're human.

Jax says to Gangle "Aren't you supposed to be the suggestible one?" Which you wouldn't typically wouldn't say to a person, right? That's something you would say more about a character that you maxed out the dialogue trees in.

He calls Pomni "His Bridge" even.

They're his objects. His tools, his own npcs he's exhausted the dialogue options on.

Jax dehumanizes the players in a way that Pomni humanizes the NPCS.

These are two opposite ends of the spectrum but what really sold it for me was Jax's reaction to the funeral.

And Jax is the one member out of the cast who doesn't even show up to the funeral. (aside from Caine and Bubble but they are AI.)

He does NOT want to think about the Players as real people. And showing that opposite perspective compared to Pomni I think is much as important going forward.

Jax was the plot catalyst of this entire episode, and served the thematic theme of the episode quite well, even if it didn't look like it on first glance.

I absolutely loved this episode and I can't wait for more.

Also... Poor Pomni can't have shit in Detroit

[ghostssimp]

Aegon Targaryen//The Right One

As a daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you were supposed to find a man who would take your hand in marrige. It's your duty to be wed away. Your grandfather Viserys, he made a royal gathering to find the best suitor for you.

The real problem is, you had one in your eyes.

Aegon Targaryen. Your uncle. It looked like history was repeating itself, thinking how your mother fell for Daemon. Targaryens always had traditions that others found weird, but to keep the blood pure, sometimes you have to do what you have to do. Even Alicent, who first was against it, was thinking of marrige between Aegon and Haelena. In the end, Haelena got married to Aemond.

As you stand in the corner of the room, you see how a lot of men are having their eyes on you. Eating ypu with the looks of desire and need for power. You were just a pawn to them. Greedy bastards only wanted to have a little part in the game of getting closer to the crown. The sad truth is that they had no idea what it meant to be on the top.

You're always watched. Can't have a moment for yourself. Every step that you take is carefully watched by everyone. Every desicion is important and there is no place for mistakes. And as for women? You knew you were here for them to just spread your legs and give them a new heir. They didn't care for you. They didn't want you for love. Just to use you.

"Pretty boring out here, isn't it princess?" There is a low voice next to your ear and you can't help but smile as shiver runs down your spine. "I should be honored, my prince." Your eyes met his lilac. "After all, this is for my engagement."

Aegon scoffs, his eyes scanning the place. "Yes, but to whom?" His eyebrow rises as he takes a step closer, brushing the lock of hair from your face. "Neither of them are worthy of you."

Your breath hitched as your lips parted for a bit."And who is it then? I am nothing but a tool." Aegon looks at you, something battleing inside of his eyes. They always seemed distant, but when he talked to you, it felt like everything made sense back.

You were the only one to understand his pain. To understand his preassure. Who said he wanted to be a damn king as his mother was expecting him to be? Who said he wanted this life? His mother was always preaparing him for the big role he didn't wanted. To hell, his father didn't even look at him and he had to be ready to be a king?

"You are so much more than that." His fingers grazed beneath your chin, barely touching it leaving a ghost feeling underneath. His thumb crosses over your lips. The feeling of his rough skin on your soft lips made you feel like it was supposed to be like that. For your lips to belong to him. To any part of him. He glanced away, clenching his jaw. He was in a deep thought as he walked off.

Your eyes follow him as he gets lost in a crowd. You felt like you should've ran after him. You wanted to, but you were sceptic.

"Why is such a lady standing alone?" My head turns to see one of the lords over. Tyland Lannister. You never liked Lannisters. In your eyes, they were just a one more pawn that wanted to become a closer to a king. Maybe even to become a king.

"Just enjoying the gathering, my lord." You give him a polite smile. You didn't want to engage the conversation, but he seemed too interested in you. "Well, the night is long, and the songs are delightfull like you. Would you give me an honor, and give me your hand for a dance?" He chuckled extending his hand out.

You clench your jaw your lips in a thin line. "I really don't feel like dancing, my lord." His face changed to a frown. "Oh, am I not worth of a dance with your grace?" Something bubbled in you with his words. Anger, for him to use a guilt card. You didn't want to make a scene. You were a royalty afer all.

"That is not what I said, my lord." You take his hand. "Of course I would like to dance." There was a smug smile on his lips. You knew what he wanted. His grip got more like a possesive one as he pulled you onto the dance floor. His other hand held the small of your back. It felt like he was holding you too tight. Like he held you with greed.

Despite you trying to hide your discomfort, Tyland pulls you even closer and held you tightly to him. The two of you danced in a dead silence. You started to look around the place, trying to find someone to save you. To get you away. Your eyes searching around, it seemed like you were looking for a specific person. "Something is on your mind, princess?"

You look up to him giving him a fake sweet smile. "Not at all." When you look away, your eyes finally meet his with a pleading look in them. Aegon as soon as he catched your eye, stopped in his tracks and seemed to process the situation. He starts to make his way towards you, his eyes never leaving yours.

As Tyland takes you in for a spin, you extend your hand and Aegon takes it pulling you away and swaying off with you in a dance.

Aegon seemed proud with a smug smirk on his lips. "Tief." You say under your breath, feeling how he held you much more gentle as the two of you took off in a dance.

Aegon laughs heartly at your statement shaking his head. "You seemed like you needed rescuing." You nod your head, gazing up at him."You stole my heart, you stole me from my dancing partner. What is next?"

Aegon grins at your words, enjoying the playful banter between you. He spins you around, pulling you back against him as you continue the dance.

"I'm a greedy man, my princess," he says with a smirk, his hand on your back slipping lower for just a moment before resuming its usual position. "I'll steal whatever I can get my hands on."

His eyes never left yours. There was a glint of something in them. "Stop looking at me like that."

Aegon raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider at your words. "Like what?" He asks innocently, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrays him. You have to bite the smile that wanted to escape your lips. "Like I'm a dinner."

"Oh, believe me, my princess, you're a feast fit for a king." He leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And I'd happily devour every last bit of you." He pulls you impossibly closer, his hold on you possessive but tender at the same time. "Can you blame me for admiring you so? You're far too captivating to ignore." A chuckle escapes your lips.

"Va moriot gīmigon se paktot udir, gaomagon ao daor?" You're always finding the right words, aren't you? His eyes glanced down to your lips as he leaned his head to the side. He hums, you knew he enjoyed when you switched to Valyrian."Ñuha jorrāelagon, you're going to be a death to me." His voice just above a whisper. it was raspy and deep as you look at him in a haze through your lashes.

He leans in closer, his own eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting yours again, a mix of fondness and desire in his expression. "You keep looking at me like that, and I'll have to claim my future wife right here and then." He mumurs softly.

Your lips part in a shock. "Since when am I your future wife?" He smirks smugly, pulling you in, his face just inches away from yours.

"Since now. I'm not letting anyone else claim you. You're mine to have."

[preqwells]

cw: 18+, afab, fingering, p in v, read part 1 of mechanic konig here

mechanic! konig would definitely become clingy after what you thought was your one-night stand.

staying true to his word, your new lovely mechanic named könig followed through with teaching you the basics of a car. how to check the dipstick that was in your oil tank so you'd know when you needed an oil change, checking the tire pressure so you didn't find yourself in a situation you didn't want to end up in-- he was thorough, diligent-- he found himself caring more than usual as he explained these things to you. "so, when it gets to this mark?" you softly inquired, pressing your fingernail to the mark you assumed he had pointed to. "no, maus-- here. if you base it off where you just pointed, well… good luck." he mumbled, a tinge of amusement in his tone. he kept his thick digit on the dipstick, slick oil making his index finger glisten under the sun. you attempted to train your brain to think of anything but what it wanted to think, honestly. you let out another sheepish chuckle, nodding obediently at any pointers he was kind enough to give you.

call it luck or fate, but könig didn't have the serpentine belt you so desperately needed to have installed in your car to get to work tomorrow. könig felt a hint of excitement-- this meant you needed a ride home, right? könig was kind enough to offer you a ride… well, an actual ride which you vehemently refused at first. you had never been one to ask favors of others, certainly not a stranger you just met even if your conscience screamed at you to do otherwise. "i can't-- i can't cover any additional costs…" you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes fell to the ground out of embarrassment. your helplessness was cute-- the pout that tugged at the fullness of your lips, your shy demeanor-- how had he gone so long without seeing such a sweetheart around town? "nein, it won't cut into what you already owe me. it'll be cheaper taking a ride from me than getting an uber, anyways." he insisted, catching onto the way you previously mentioned cutting back on expenses. you couldn't argue with him-- or more like, you didn't want to.

during the car ride home, könig would sneak glances at you-- whether it be at red lights or when he turned the corner. he couldn't help the way his eyes would roam your figure, and you even caught glimpses of his lingering gaze. you weren't stupid, and neither was he-- the tension was palpable, almost tangible. he guided you to your door, his hand splayed across the small of your back, thick digits bracing you. "um… well, thanks-- for everything." you quickly got out, wanting the interaction to be over so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself. everything felt so intimate-- the way he touched you, stole glances at you-- it felt out of character for you since you had only known him maybe for half the day. könig remained quiet for a moment, drinking in every reaction you had. your head tilted upward, looking up at him through your lashes as he kept your gaze. the atmosphere suddenly felt thick, intense. "no problem. couldn't let you go home without knowing you were safe." his voice dropped an octave, his head dipping lower to insert himself in your personal bubble. your breath hitched as you nodded, opening the door as his forearms leaned against the doorframe, the heavy tools on his belt exposing a sliver of skin along with a tuft of hair right above his groin.

"well… i'm safe." "are you?" "mhm." "how're you gonna get back to my shop tomorrow?"

your brain short-circuited at the heady mix of the bluntness of his words and his stature, your mouth slightly agape. he let out a low chuckle before his index finger found the belt loop of your pants, pulling you into his space. you mumbled out a weak 'i dunno'-- that answer wasn't good enough for him. "… i could stay the night… won't cut into what you already owe me, maus." he reiterated his earlier point, the boldness of his words coated in mirth. his face was brought closer to your own, his black lashes hanging low over his eyes. your hands found purchase on his biceps before his lips brushed against yours, putting a silence to any lingering tension from earlier as your eyes fluttered closed. he put every ounce of being into the kiss-- hell, he wished you could've broken your serpentine belt earlier if it meant a pretty thing like you could've stepped into his shop sooner than you did. he backed you into your apartment, his hand closing the door hurriedly. "fuck-- you just had to walk into my shop, didn't you?" he gruffed out between kisses, annoyed at the feeling of how quickly he already found himself half-hard.

you parted your lips to squeak out a half-hearted apology before könig used this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, coaxing a sweet moan from you which elicited a wicked grin from könig. könig led you into your bedroom, gently placing you at the head of the bed as his teeth nipped at every area of skin he could think of-- your neck, your collarbone, underneath your breast when he managed to get your shirt off. the whines and whimpers that escaped you only urged him to continue, didn't you know? stupid of you, really-- to think you weren't going to end the night with his fingers readying you to split you open on his heavy cock. his head lolled back when he did eventually find his length rubbing snugly against the slickness of your walls, your eyes blinking away tears from the initial stretch. he quickly caught wind of this as he halted his movements, arching down as his lips pressed against your cheek.

"s'okay, maus-- know i'm kind of a fit, eh? just tell me when it's okay to move." he cooed to which you quickly nodded, exhaling a sigh you didn't know you were holding. as you signaled for him to start moving, his thrusts were almost borderline calculated, precise-- you didn't seem to be complaining about it from the string of moans you were letting out, anyway. it didn't take long for his thrusts to grow sloppy, a mix of your wetness and the sound of skin slapping together filling the room. the way you keened, your brows knitted so closely together from pleasure, your lips swollen and red from the earlier make-out session-- yeah, this is where könig needed to be; buried deep into your drooling pussy.

the night came to an end as did your time with könig-- hell, you could barely remember falling asleep. you went to sleep with the thought that you'd wake up to an empty bed, trying to conjure ways for it not to be so awkward when you did eventually go to pick up a car. you'd never really had a one-night stand before-- how do you even face someone who was practically balls-deep in you the night before? what you didn't expect when morning came was the soft kisses that rained upon your cheek, waking you out of a well-deserved sleep. your eyes slowly opened, scanning the room and taking in the sight of yourself under the covers. you were… clean? no traces of stickiness between your legs, no sweat sticking to your skin. your head turned to the side to be greeted with the sight of könig with bed-head, his hair twisted in every way imaginable. your eyebrows furrowed together out of confusion-- you were fully expecting him to leave. könig caught on quickly to your confusion, his elbow propped up on the mattress as his palm rested on the side of his cheek. he returned your look of confusion as if daring you to say something.

"what? we have to go pick up your car today, don't we?"

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Please write a reader x Gregory house, they’re on a break and he calls her after doing the surgery in himself in the bathtub (happy ending please 🙏)

A/n: I'm sad already😩

It wasn't one of his best moments, something he wouldn't exactly say he was proud of. He thought he could do it, he was a doctor after all so it should have been easy.

Calling you was the most challenging part since you ended the relationship. He didn't blame you of course, not when he was such an ass. But he did miss you.

God did he miss you. He missed your laugh, how you made him feel happy.

So calling you seemed like the most logical thing to do. His voice was slurred, he didn't remembered much because that was when things became to blurred.

You slipped into his apartment, your gaze flicking around to find him. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you made your way to the bathroom.

“Greg?” You called out, your heart sinking as you noticed the lights were dim, the apartment was eerily quiet.

“Greg?” You called again, stepping further inside. The air smelled faintly metallic—like blood—and your pulse quickened.

Following the faint sound of water running and pushed open the bathroom door. Your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight before you.

House was slumped in the bathtub, blood staining the water around him. His leg was exposed, your gaze landing on the haphazard stitches he’d done on himself, the surgical tools scattered around the bathroom floor. His face was pale, his chest rising and falling shallowly.

“Greg!” You dropped to your knees beside the tub as your hands trembled reaching for him. “What the hell did you do?”

House’s eyes fluttered open, and he gave you a weak, but pained smirk. “Hey…sunshin. Fancy seeing you here.”

"You called me, said you needed me....House! You!"

The man's head slumped against the wall as a weak chuckle escaped his lips. "Did I!"

Your heart was pounding in your chest, panic and anger warring within you. “You… you did this to yourself? Are you insane?”

He gave a faint chuckle, though it was more of a grimace. “That’s… debatable.”

Grabbing a towel you pressed it gently but firmly against the wound. “This isn’t funny, Greg! You could’ve—” your voice cracked, as you took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “You could’ve died.”

“I didn’t,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “You’re here. Always… here.” That was something he came to realize, why he called you.

Tears stung your eyes, but you pushed them back, to focused on stopping the bleeding. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No,” he said sharply, his hand weakly grabbing your wrist. “No hospital.”

“Greg, you need help—real help. You can’t just...I can't—”

“Y/m.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but the intensity in his eyes stopped you. “Just… give me a minute.”

Your gaze lingered on him, your own anger and fear bubbling to the surface. “A minute? You’re lying in a tub full of your own blood, and you want a minute?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, though his voice lacked conviction. “Well… relatively.”

“Relatively?” You snapped, tears finally spilling over. “Greg, this isn’t fine! None of this is fine! You’re not invincible, no matter how much you act like you are.”

His expression softened slightly, and he reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he murmured.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “You didn’t scare me, Greg. You terrified me.” A sob escaping your lips as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut.

For a moment, you two just stared at each other, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy in the air. Finally, House let out a small sigh, his smirk returning, though it was faint. “Guess I owe you an apology.”

“You owe me more than that,” You said, your voice trembling. “You owe me an explanation. But first, we’re getting you out of this tub and fixing this mess.”

With a surprising amount of strength for your size, you helped him out of the water, your medical training kicking in as you tended to his leg. Your hands were steady despite the emotions inside of you.

As you worked, House watched you, his usual mask of sarcasm slipping away. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

His heart clenching in his chest, he was already regretting ending things with you but he had thought you deserved better.

“Not a chance,” you said firmly, wrapping a bandage around his leg. “We’re going to talk about this. All of it.”

House gave a faint nod, the exhaustion catching up to him. “Figured.”

Once you had done all you have could you had helped him to the couch, tucking a blanket around him before sitting beside him. For a while, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy but not empty.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Greg, you don’t have to do everything alone. You have me. Let me help you.”

House glanced at you, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name—vulnerability, maybe, or gratitude. “I know,” he said quietly.

You rested your hand on his, your fingers lacing through his. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

House closed his eyes, leaning back against the couch. For once, he didn’t argue or deflect. He simply nodded, letting himself believe, if only for a moment, that he wasn’t as alone as he always thought he was.

You both waiting for the paramedics to arrive though House knew it wouldn't be too long.

Now finally stabilized in the hospital, you kept the details light. The surgery went well and the man couldn't help but be grateful that you stayed by his side through it all.

The room was quiet, until you broke the silence. "I still love you Greg." Your voice was low, soft as you gave his hand a squeeze.

"Even after all the shit I do." Greg glanced at you, his thumb gliding over the back of your hand. "I was such an idiot for ending things, I didn't think I deserved you."

"Greg."

"Can we try...just one more time."

Gaze softening, you lent over placing a kiss to his forehead. "We can try, when you get out but do me favor and get some rest."

"Deal."

[sukunasweetheart]

oddly specific relationship headcanons with sukuna pt. 2

part 1 here

modern AU, fem!reader, sukuna being an ass as usual (affectionately)

sukuna is a food stealer. he'd rummage through ur home for snacks or food like some raccoon going through the trash. not necessarily bc hes hungry, sometimes it's bc he wants something to chew on, other times its bc he wants to judge your tastes and/or shame you. if ur fridge and cupboards are empty, with barely anything other than a bottle of ketchup in it, he will quite literally give you a silent stare bc hes simply speechless... he will say youre boring, then hes gna get concerned on whether ur eating well or not...

other than going through the things u have at home, he will also take large bites and mouthfuls of whatever you're holding onto outside. be it ice cream, bubble tea, a burger, corndog- he just wants a bite of whatever youre having! he'd then have the audacity to rate it, telling you "hmm, not bad" or "this shit tastes horrible". sometimes he just does it to piss u off, he's just like that.

if you tried the same against him, you'd have to either catch him off guard (nigh impossible) or just beg and plead until hes satisfied enough to share his snack as a treat. otherwise, he's holding the item above ur head and laughing at you. maybe if you pout he'll then finally bend down and give a little smooch on your lips before offering you some.

another thing he loves doing is draping himself all over you... full body weight if youre lying down, leaning against you fully if youre sitting, or resting his chin or arm over your head/shoulder if youre standing. just. using u as a support bc this man is so comfortable with using u as a resting tool HAHA and i know this man heavy as fuck bro *sobs* if u complain abt it, it only fuels him more... (me personally, i'd love if he put his whole body weight on me... pls crush me)

he likes feeling u squirm against him and yelling for help bc ur getting squished LMAO and also, most of the time you can't support his weight for long and you slowly sink down... he always enjoys watching u lose against him one way or another...

i already mentioned previously that he likes playfully smacking your ass around the house but i'll also add on that he likes to just grope and massage different parts of your body randomly when the two of you are lounging about together, not even sexually, he'll just squeeze at your flesh bc he feels like it and he likes the bouncy sensation. cue one hand groping ur ur tiddies/thighs/tummy while he idly scrolls through his phone

hes very independent when he wants to be independent. but hes also clingy as fuck when he's in the mood to be. one second he could be fine with doing his own thing, but all of a sudden he's craving your attention the next. he's content with being by himself one moment but then the itching desire to be next to you comes around and he does just that. watch out bc the second u get comfortable, he'll probably change his mind again and head back to continue whatever he was doing again

if you do the same against him, coming and going as you please, he's a lot more resistant as opposed to you... while you just let him do whatever he wants (most of the time, anyway) he will be his teasing self as always. he's in the middle of something and you wanna cuddle him all of a sudden? he expects to be rewarded afterwards (something lust related, probably). you wanna get up and leave after getting your fill of the cuddles? too bad, he's too comfortable now, youre not leaving til he's satisfied. he's just a selfish bastard, what can i say

one last thing, i think i mentioned this in some post before but anyway.. sukuna's 100% the type of mf to show a lot of his softer love while youre SLEEPING. be it forehead kisses, caressing your cheek, just admiring your facial features or thumbing your lips. maybe even leaving a little kiss on them. brushing aside any strands of hair. but he'd also pinch your nose and chuckle when you eventually open ur mouth to breathe LMFAOAOA <3 just languidly admiring ur sleeping face <3

Masterlist

[utilitycaster]

I said this late last night but actually, I was serious: I really do feel like the stasis bubbles are ultimately at the core of Ludinus's attitude towards Aeor, and the fact that he doesn't seem to have focused on them at all is the key to understanding his agenda.

I don't believe the stasis bubbles are a lost cause. I think there's certainly failure points, ie, I think if one does not go about this with utmost care then yes, the people within will rapidly age or wither to dust and be lost. But I don't think a successful release of the Aeorians in these bubbles is impossible within the canon of Critical Role. I think it is very, very difficult, but I think it could be done.

Ludinus doesn't seem to have focused on this at all - not even a half-assed attempt. He's gone for a literal moonshot, connecting with something he didn't even know existed and destroying Molaesmyr in the process. To his limited credit I think it's entirely likely he didn't know about these stasis bubbles until Aeor excavations began about 60 years ago, but I don't think Aeor became his focus until he realized he could strip it for parts: both for its technology, and as part of his propaganda machine.

Ludinus's grudge against the gods began with the end of the Calamity, in his own youth, in those final battles, and we know that he was already studying mages like Laerryn and using the harness to extend his lifespan while he lived in Molaesmyr. He may very well have known about Aeor, but his goal was to kill the gods. He only just saw what was in the Occultus Thalamus now.

Aeor is a useful tool to him, and it's a better tool to him if he can act like it's lost forever and everyone is dead. Aeorians only help him if they're doomed corpses. If he cared about the deaths of the people of Aeor and the culture of the city, why let his general repeatedly target FCG, one of its only current survivors? Why shut down the researchers from Uthodurn and the Dynasty in the past 7 years? Why push towards this Thalamus even as his army falls to Dominox when the stasis bubbles are just outside? Are those collapses Essek noted just the ravages of time, or was he destroying the city even further?

He doesn't really care about Aeorians in the slightest. He wants to kill the gods, and treats this mass slaughter and cultural destruction of Aeor as a boon that fell into his lap so that he can say "look what they took from you" to the world that he's been ravaging and slaughtering his way through himself for the past few months (and, on a slower but no less violent scale, the last millennium). The second he lets one of the Aeormatons brought back by D speak? Or brings back one of the thousands of Aeorians who could, perhaps, survive and come back and even revive that lost knowledge? Well, then it's not lost forever at the hands of the gods now, is it, and that makes for bad press, and we can't have that now, can we, not when we're about to crack open the moon and eat the gods! Sorry that a phoenix killed your family and no one could resurrect them, but you know how it is. Let bygones be bygones, unless they're his trauma and his trauma alone.

Any claim that he cares about Aeor is a lie. He cares for himself and no one else. He loves that Aeor is gone because it's always been gone to him and, like any fossil, is only good as fuel for his own agenda. And we and Bells Hells are about to see a glimpse of life in the city that's more convenient to him when it's dead, and he thinks that's going to help his cause.

[bengaly]

Experimenting with different visual cues to show that a character is not quite fluent in a language yet. Commentary and extras below the cut. (the other language is kalaallisut, a real language spoken in greenland, albeit machine translated and probs not 100% accurate)

1. Blurred bits

I feel like this one isn't very visually pleasing, but it speaks to me more regarding how learning a language feels. You don't quite make out what the words are, and slowly pick up bits from what is being said. This also adds room for uncertainty on the character's POV, the speech bubble wouldn't be theirs, but what you read off it would be their thoughts regarding whats being said. The blur also helps keeping things incomprehensible even if you speak the other language being spoken.

2. Bits in multiple languages

This one adds room for out of the speech bubble commentary. It doesn't make misunderstandings as easy as with the blurred speech, and with an agglutinative language like kalaallisut it might end up being confusing to organise or break the sentence's syntax. It looks cleaner than the blurred bits though, and it still makes the other language incomprehensible (if you dont speak kalaallisut, that is). Colour coding would help indicate whats being understood by the main character and what isnt, and the texts would slowly be fully red across the chapters.

3. Faded colour to indicate not understanding

This makes the reader able to understand everything, and relies on the reader memorising that faded = not understood by the character. Other than that, colour coding would indicate a change of languages.

I like the reader only understanding what the character can understand and I like the types that leave kalaallisut still visible. Though option 3 might be cleaner and easier to manange.

4. Faded colour + blur

This is something I thought after posting it earlier on patreon. Blurring the parts the main character wouldn't understand can be a way for the brain to quickly skip through the missed text, in hopes that at least the first reading will match what the character is understanding.

Also, for the enjoyment of my 4 greenlandic followers, heres the machine translated kalaallisut version I used for 1 & 2. I had to use a double way translation tool and an annotation tool to be sure the words were somewhat related to what I wanted them to be. I can't really fact check it though, so I hope that whichever way the translator messed up is at least worth a chuckle.

If you'd like to see more of this kinda stuff, please consider supporting me on patreon

[mamsieur]

Don't mess with the Storm | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary : Sometimes, Cyclone could live up to his call sign. Especially when it concerned you, his youngest daughter, his little Storm.

TW : slight violence, mention of alcohol, family/domestic fluff

Length : 6753 words

AN : You can't make me believe that Beau Simpson isn't a family man with lots of kids. That's what he radiates.

posted on AO3 August 21, 2023

Your mom always said you took after your dad, but if he was a Cyclone, you were a Storm ; smaller and less destructive. Storm has always been your nickname. 

It described you quite well as much in your way of doing things than in your personality. You were passionate about everything you did and you often left a mess after you.

Being a Vice Admiral, Beau managed to control himself for his work but when it came to you and your well being, he could literally destroy everything on his way. Not that your father was in any way abusive or violent, but he sometimes could over react.

You were your parents’ precious little baby.

You were the youngest of four children; you had three older brothers, all in the military. Two of them, Nathan and Jamie, were naval aviators, like your father, and one, Aaron, was a Marine Officer. 

Needless to say, you were well taken care of ; you liked to think that you had a small ‘army’ for yourself.

But as much as they thought of you as their little princess, they never treated you like one, and you never wanted to be. You were tough and very capable of defending yourself. Your father always encouraged you in whatever you wanted to do. 

You wanted to join the soccer team? Let's go. Switch to boxing lessons? Done. A new passion for karting? He had your back. An interest in mechanics ? He bought you your first tool box.

As long as you put your heart and soul into whatever you did, your family would support you.

So when you told them you wanted to work for the Navy after your engineering degree, they were as supportive as they could be.

You were a genius engineer - your mom’s word, not yours - and you loved working on jets, inspecting them, gathering as much data as possible to make them as efficient as they can be. Working at Top Gun was heaven. Since the pilots were supposed to be the best, you loved pushing them and their machines to be better and better.

Of course, the fact that you were working on the same base as your father had raised some eyebrows. But neither of you cared, and he got you no special treatment.

After the uranium mission, you were assigned to check the status of the Dagger Squad's F-18s. Everything seemed to be in good shape, and while your computer analyzed the flight data, you inspected the engines. You liked to work alone when you could, it helped you stay in your bubble of concentration.

The sun was slowly setting as you finished diagnosing the last jet. Being alone in the hangar, you took the opportunity to put on some music. You hummed and swayed a little while you waited for the analysis to finish on your screen and inspected the engine.

Your head was - quite literally - in it when you heard footsteps behind you. They stopped a few feet away from you to let you finish what you were doing.

"I'll just be two minutes," you muttered and then shrugged, getting no response. You finished inspecting the seemingly defective part and stood up. Your face was covered in dust and motor oil, and your hair was starting to fall out of your ponytail.

You sighed and turned to your mysterious guest.

"Oh! Good evening Lieutenant Bradshaw. May I help you?" you smiled a little and wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Good evening Second Lieutenant Simpson, to tell you the truth, yes, you may..." he grinned charmingly, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the plane, "I was wondering if you'd forgotten our date? It's 7:20, and we agreed to meet at 6:30 ?” 

You stopped smiling and looked at the clock. Crap! You hadn't seen the time.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I was servicing the jets and didn't realize what time it was! I should have set an alarm, I'm sorry. Jesus, how could I be so stupid?"

You were starting to mumble excuses as you gathered your things when you felt his hand on your wrist.

"It's okay, I know how you get when you're focused on something. We’ll find another day for that. I'll wait for you at the bar, okay?" he reassured you with a grin.

"Uh yeah, yeah okay! I'll be quick!" you nodded and smiled back at him. He tucked a strand of your wild hair behind your ear, a few inches from you, making you blush slightly. His thumb stroked your cheek. He had that cheeky smile he always had when something was on his mind. He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his beautiful brown eyes never leaving yours.

" Or , I can also wait for you in the changing-"

" Lieutenant Bradshaw, Second Lieutenant Simpson, what are you two still doing here? "

Your father's stern voice echoed through the hangar, taking you by surprise. Bradley took a quick step back and straightened his posture to greet him.

"I, uh-"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw forgot his keys, sir, he was out. I got carried away with the diagnostics, I'm almost finished here," you replied quickly as Cyclone’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Bradley then at you.

"Hm. You better hurry then, Second Lieutenant, overtime is not allowed. You're free to go Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Yes sir!" you said in unison and Bradley left as quickly as he could, flashing one last smile in your direction before disappearing down the corridors.

As you started to clean up the mess you'd made, you heard an amused sigh.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. You're still living up to your nickname."

"Ha ha, very funny Dad," you rolled your eyes and closed your toolbox, "Don't wait for me, I'm going out tonight."

"Mmh. Is Bradshaw involved?" he asked as he helped you carry your stuff to the storage room.

"Yes? I mean the whole Dagger team is, I need to get to know them to understand how they work."

That was only half a lie. You knew they most likely were all at the Hard Deck, you'd met them there a few times. You got along well with them, especially Natasha, Bob and Mickey. And of course, Bradley... But it was different with him.

You'd known him for years and your very first assignment had been with him. Your friendship had evolved over the years into a kind of friends-with-benefits/fuck-buddies relationship until a few weeks ago. Since the uranium mission, he wanted more than that, and so did you. You two tried to keep your relationship secret because you suspected it could jeopardize either of your careers, and mostly because you knew your father would not approve.

He always thought the guys you dated were not good enough for you. And as annoying as it was, he was always right. He scared away some of them and when you thought back about it, it's a good thing he did.

Truth be told, you have been in love with Bradley for so long that sometimes it hurted. 

You had tried to tell him so many times in the past, but you were afraid of losing what little intimacy you had with him. So when he asked you out, first thing after the uranium mission, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. The hope that your feelings would be reciprocated had invaded your heart and mind, and you felt like it was the first time you were in love. It wasn’t of course, but you were all giddy about it.

You didn’t like to lie to your dad, he knew you too much to know everything in just one look. 

But it was worth it, wasn’t it ?

You hoped it was.

After a well-deserved shower, you changed into clean, comfortable clothes that actually suited you. You put on your helmet and rode to the bar with your motorbike. Your mother hated when you used that ‘death machine’ and your father wasn't really fond of it either. It reminded him of Maverick. He wasn’t fond of Maverick. It always made you laugh watching your dad trying to remain calm in front of the Captain. You’ve never seen a man getting on his nerves that much.

The Hard Deck was already busy when you parked ; a totally normal Friday night , you thought. Looking around, you spotted Natasha’s, Javy’s and Bradley’s cars.

Penny nodded at you with a smile as you entered. The Daggers were in their usual places and Bradley seemed to be winning the pool game against Jake. In a desperate attempt to break his concentration, Jake chuckled, "Your girlfriend's here, Bradshaw”.

The whole team had discovered your relationship, of course, but swore to keep it a secret. You were grateful to them, but Jake being himself, he couldn't resist taking a dig at you. 

You rolled your eyes and took a seat next to Bob, watching the two eternal rivals finish their game. You caught up with Mickey and theorized with him on the last episodes of Kenobi then made your way towards Penny at the bar to buy your round of beers. As you waited for your drinks at the counter, you felt two hands around your waist.

"You're late, Second Lieutenant ."

"Had to fix your teammates’ jets, Lieutenant , tell them to be more careful," you grinned, leaning your back against your boyfriend's torso. You heard him chuckle softly as he whispered that you were an ‘idiot' and kissed the top of your head.

"Sorry about our date, I'll make it up to you."

"You bet your sweet ass you will," Bradley snickered at the squeal you let out as he spanked you a little, “But right now, you owe me a dance to celebrate my victory against Hangman.”

He took your hand as you rolled your eyes but followed him. Your whole body pressed against his, arms around his neck, the room faded away. All you could feel and see was him; one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your hip, guiding you. The warmth of his body was like a spell that kept you close, not wanting to let go.His hands roamed down your back making you shiver. It felt like you belonged there.

You couldn’t let go of his eyes, hypnotized. He had such beautiful eyes ; those hazel brown orbs were magnetic, so infuriatingly charming. 

One of your hands gently stroked his scarred cheek and he leaned into your touch, smiling like an idiot and humming the song you were slow dancing to. His smile always sent butterflies to your stomach and heat to your cheeks. It was almost annoying how easily you fell for his charms.

The two of you danced until the song ended and you pulled him by the collar to kiss him. You felt his hands slip into the back pockets of your jeans, shamelessly squeezing your ass, and his proud grin against your lips. You bit his as you pulled away from the kiss.

"Okay, lovebirds , get a room," Jake complained and you flipped him off, still in Bradley's arms.

"Don't be jealous Jakey, your time will come," you teased, making your partner chuckle.

"She's right Seresin, just wait till you're a big boy."

The evening continued quietly, with one beer after another, a few games of darts and pool, and a few songs on the piano for Bradley. 

You watched him from the bar, mesmerized, an affectionate smile on your face. You still wondered how you'd managed to get his attention; this man could have anyone he wanted with his smile combined with a little song, the sweetness with which he spoke, his sarcasms, his eyes so soft and intense at the same time, his stupid, stupid, cocky grin... God, you were definitely and undoubtedly under his spell, mind and heart.

Your eyes never left his form for more than five seconds. You looked at him as if you wanted to learn every aspect of his physique; but to be honest, you already knew him by heart. 

You could locate every beauty mark, every scar - and tell its story - and where his birthmark was. You could describe every shade of brown in his eyes, depending on the light or his emotions. You knew every expression on his face; when he was angry, frustrated, sad, or playful. You knew exactly where and how to touch him to make him putty in your hands, every positively sensitive area and those to avoid.

And yet, every time you looked at him, behind the piano, laughing with his friends, you discovered a new detail that made you love him even more.

The way he cared for all of them - even Jake, his "archenemy" - and knew just what to do to make them feel better and laugh. How he always listened to what they had to share, good or bad, and offered to help. How he'd always protect them as if they were his siblings, his rather hazardous family.

Speaking of hazardous family, it always made you laugh how Bradley could be so like Pete and like your dad. It was sometimes a mixture of arrogance and calm, defiance and seriousness. Part of you was sure that if they tried, your dad and Bradley would get along. But were they willing to ?

As you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice a man, a little younger than you, sitting next to your stool. He started talking, trying to flirt, but you didn’t really pay attention, still absorbed by your boyfriend’s silliness, until he clicked his fingers in front of your face.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you doll. You should really pay attention when someone is talking to you, got it ?”

You sipped your beer and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He continued his flirtatious attempts, bragging that he was one of the best in his class at Top Gun. He kept trying to get your attention by snapping his fingers or grabbing your arm. His breath was clearly too close to your face and stinked a mixture of beer and chips. 

It really started to annoy you, so it was your turn to snap your fingers in his face.

"I'm not interested,” you snapped your fingers again, “If a girl ignores you, it's because she doesn't want to talk to you, got it ?"

You got off your stool, ready to join the Daggers by the piano. But a hand gripped your wrist and the man pulled you close to him. You could see a hint of anger and annoyance in his eyes, but it didn’t scare you. You were used to guys like him, thinking they own every woman they see. 

“Listen doll, I was nice until now. Give me your number and I’ll forgive you,” he grinned, his buddies sneering behind him, as if they were proud of him. You couldn’t help but giggle at the scene. What kind of bad joke was that ?

In one swift motion, you released your wrist and pinned his arm behind his back. You bent him violently over the bar and locked him in that position, pressing down just enough to hurt and immobilize him. 

"One false move and I will dislocate your arm," you threatened in his ear as a few glances turned in your direction. "Now listen to me carefully. This is the last time you'll talk to me or any woman like that. Understood?"

He grunted and struggled a little. You pressed harder and repeated, "Understood?"

"Okay! Okay, I understand! Get off me!"

The man growled again and you finally let go. Penny gave you a look that you understood as a warning and you smiled innocently to her. The man and his group walked away with a grunt, giving you one last murderous look. You smiled broadly and made a mocking curtsy. 

Bradley raised an eyebrow as they passed him, muttering that you were a "crazy bitch". You joined him with two beers, one for him and one for you.

"What happened?"

"Nothing to worry about, just some big macho guy. He didn't like that I wasn't paying attention to him. I just put him in his place."

You shrugged with a smile and Bradley shook his head, laughing a little, knowing exactly what you meant. He put his arm around your waist and kissed your temple. 

"I know you can defend yourself, but don't get yourself in trouble, Stormy."

"Don't worry, if I get in trouble, my knight in shining armor will come and rescue me, won't he?" you teased. He chuckled but nodded before taking you on his lap at the piano. He started a new song that had the remaining customers singing and dancing.

***

The end of the evening was a bit hazy.

You'd had too much to drink to get back on your bike, so it was Bradley who drove you home. You pulled your boyfriend into your small house - he offered no resistance - and kissed him as if your life depended on it, as if that simple contact made your heart beat. His hands roamed your body with hunger, and yours tore his Hawaiian shirt from his back. You thought of nothing but Bradley, his soft lips devouring your jaw and neck, leaving a few marks where he passed, his hands so warm on your skin, his breath making you shiver. 

You wandered back to your room, kicking off your shoes, and your clothes ended up in a pile at the end of your bed. 

You loved doing it with Bradley. He gave you everything you wanted and so much more. You'd never been as fulfilled as you were with him. It was as if he knew everything about how your body worked, that it held no secrets for him. 

Your nightly activities have drained you both of what little energy you had left, and you fell asleep hugging each other, as if afraid the other will evaporate.

The next morning, it was not your massive headache that woke you, but the sound of several cars and children laughing outside your house. What day was it? Was it Saturday? It was Saturday!

You jumped to your feet as Bradley mumbled something unintelligible.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" You shook your boyfriend and wrapped yourself in a blanket as you heard the sound of a key turning in the front door lock.

"Bradley, get up!"

"Mmh, five minutes..." he mumbled, burying his face in the pillow. You heard the door open and small footsteps running toward your room. You panicked and shook him harder.

"We don't have five minutes! Get your ass up!" 

You grabbed the first thing you could get your hands on: panties and Bradley's tank top. You stumbled to your bedroom door to get out before one of your nephews’ innocent eyes discovered their aunt and a man they didn't know naked as worms in her bed. You tried to look as natural as possible as you quickly closed the door behind you. Standing in front of you was Jack, your three-year-old nephew. He was Nathan’s, your oldest brother, son. He laughed as he threw himself on your legs to give you a hug.

"Oh my God, hi sweetie! You're early!"

"Dada said we'd surprise you, Auntie! And Pop-Pop is here too!" the little boy laughed.

"What a nice thought!" you tried not to sound too ironic as you picked him up to give him a kiss and rearrange his wild blond hair. "Auntie needs to get dressed, okay? Go wait with your dad in the living room!"

You gave him one last kiss and made sure he ran to the living room before storming back to your bedroom. How could you forget that your brothers were visiting today? You were so screwed! A million thoughts went through your head and one thing made you snap out of it; Bradley yawning and taking his sweet time getting up. You grumbled and attacked him with a pillow.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"We're in deep shit Bradley! My whole family is here! They weren't supposed to be up this early!"

"What?" he blinked and narrowed his eyes, trying to process what you'd just told him. You started to rattle on about how your brothers got their permission for your mom's birthday, but your brothers were here super early with their wifes, their kids, and your mom and dad. Bradley had trouble following what you were saying because you were talking really fast. 

“Babe,” he tried to interrupt you, but you kept mumbling and pacing next to the bed, “Y/N, baby, calm down!” 

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to sit in front of him. His free hand cupped your cheek tenderly as he guided you into breathing to calm yourself down.

“Okay… mind explaining slower what is happening here ?”

You sighed and nodded before re-explaining the whole situation to him. “But they weren’t supposed to come here this early ! The surprise lunch for my mom was supposed to be at home, not in my flat ! And my dad is here. My dad ! What are we going to say ?”

You cursed again, rubbing your temples. Bradley took your hands in his to make you look at him and stole a kiss from you. You sighed against his lips, your tension going away slightly. He then pressed his forehead to yours, stroking your cheeks to soothe you.

“How about we get dressed and just… join them in the living room ?”

“You really want to face my dad ?” you raised one eyebrow, surprised but really relieved that he didn’t propose to just sneak out.

“Yeah ? I mean, the man already has doubts, you’ve said it yourself… and it’s your mother’s birthday, your whole army of men won’t be able to kill me. Not today at least.”

You chuckled at his joking tone and at the silly smile he has on his face. You pecked his lips with a grin. “Okay then Lieutenant , let’s get dressed.”

“Yes ma’am!” 

He gave you one last tender kiss, and when the two of you went to get up, a little giggle made you both freeze.

“Auntie who that ? And why he nakey ?”

Your nephew’s voice asked. He was standing by the door, a playful smile on his chubby face, and his little finger pointing at your embarrassed boyfriend. Bradley quickly covered himself more, lifting the sheet at his chin, and you ran to get little Jack in your arms.

“How did he get here ??” Bradley scream-whispered at you, hiding himself while trying to get dressed.

“I don’t know !” you scream-whispered back before turning your attention back to the toddler who was babbling in your arms, “Jack, honey, why aren’t you with your dad and pop-pop ?”

Before he could answer, your sister in law was by your bedroom, apologizing. She didn’t notice Bradley right away, but when she did, a small cheeky smile curled on her lip.

“Hi there, sorry to have him interrupted you two.”

“Annie, it’s not what it looks like-” you blushed when you understood what she implied but Bradley interrupted you by presenting himself and shaking her hand with a wide smile. They chat while you put on a pair of jeans, keeping on Bradley’s tank top. Never in your life had you been this embarrassed.

Little Jack looked at your boyfriend with wide-eyed wonder. He loved meeting new people, and Bradley seemed fascinating to his young eyes. It was no wonder when every time Annie spoke to you, Bradley would make faces at the little boy and make him giggle. 

Bradley already had him in his pocket, so that was a good thing. Annie seemed to like him too, at least you thought so from the mischievous looks she gave you. 

As you crossed the hallway to join the rest of your family, a wave of nervousness ran through you. You grabbed Bradley by the sleeve of his Hawaiian shirt and turned him toward you. You pulled him into a hug to relax and to give yourself courage.

"Promise you won't hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They'll probably try to impress you, my brothers I mean... and my dad... you know how he can be..."

"Oh honey... It takes more than that to scare me. I'll be fine."

He kissed your forehead and you walked into the living room.

You greeted everyone, your father not immediately aware of Bradley's presence. You introduced him to your brothers first, Nathan, Aaron and Jamie, and they didn't do anything strange at first; they were probably waiting for you to introduce him to your father to see what sauce to cook him in.

Beau and Vivian, your mother, were too busy admiring your niece, five-month-old Juliet, to notice Bradley's presence. She was fast asleep in the arms of Jamie's fiancée, Alice. She greeted you with a smile when you waved.

"Awake at last, Stormy?" your father asked before freezing and losing his smile at the sight of your boyfriend, " Lieutenant Bradshaw. ".

His cold, hard tone made you sigh a little as the two men shook hands in greeting. 

“Good morning Vice Admiral Simpson.” 

They were way too formal, it was ridiculous. Your mother had the same reaction as you and introduced herself to Bradley with a warm smile and a hug.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Simpson."

"Oh, please, just call me Viv!" she laughed a little, waving her hand. Then she turned to you, discreetly gave you both thumbs up and winked at you. 

Good. Bradley seemed to have charmed your mother with just a smile.

Still, you could feel your father tense up behind you as Bradley got to know everyone. He remained very polite and smiled, even letting Jack, Oliver and Tommy - Aaron's twin sons - pull him out to play in the little garden. Your father grabbed your arm. "Kitchen. Now. We need to talk." He seemed a little upset, and you could understand; you'd lied to him.

"Care to explain yourself?" He crossed his arms on his chest, a stern look on his face. 

You didn't like that look. He used to have it when he scolded you when you were a teenager, when you would sneak out of the house to go to a party or to meet up with your then-boyfriend. For a moment, you were 16 again, caught in the act.

You sighed at his insistent and questioning look.

"I uh... He’s... we’re... we've been seeing each other for… a few weeks..."

"A few weeks? So you've been lying to me for weeks?"

"I haven't lied! At least not completely..." you mumbled, biting your fingernail.

"Y/N. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Seriously Dad? You've made it pretty clear that you don't really like him, I mean outside of work."

"I never said that."

You widened your eyes, shocked at his bad faith. 

"Are you kidding me? You've made it clear that you don't want me around him because he's too much like Maverick! Every time I mentioned him, you made your… disapproving face. The same one you made every time I mentioned my old boyfriends, or when I wanted to get a motorcycle, or when the boys tried to bleach their hair in high school !"

"I don't have a disapproving face," he grumbled, "and it's not because he’s like Maverick that I don't want you around him, it's because he can be called back on a mission at any time. I don't want that to break your heart."

"Oh ! But it's okay for Nathan, Aaron, and Jamie to break the hearts of their partners? Of their children? It was okay for you to risk breaking Mom's heart and ours? What kind of cardboard argument is that, Dad?" You raised your arms in disbelief as you started to walk out of the kitchen, but you stopped and turned back to face him. "I know you want to protect me, but... you can't do that about things like that. I know you know better than anyone the risks of this job, the sacrifices it requires. But Bradley knows them as well, if not better, than you do. And as much as it scares me, as much as it scares us... we want to try… And even if you don't like it, we'll give it a try. Because I almost lost him once without really being able to be with him..."

Your father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. From the kitchen window you could see Bradley playing with your nephews, under your mother's and in laws’ amused and tender eyes. A small smile crept across your lips as the little ones called you over to help hold Bradley down. You hurried to join them, and your mother joined your father.

"Our boys and the little ones seem to like this Lieutenant…”

“Seems like it…”  

“He reminds me a little of you when we first met..." Vivian chuckled to Beau as she hugged him. 

"Really?" the man wondered, "and how?"

"Well, he has that same sparkle in his eyes... the one that calls for adventure, that gentle and loving look when his eyes land on our Storm... and he's also very good with children," she laughed at his slightly embarrassed expression, "You should give him a chance... our princess looks so relaxed with him... look at her… look at her smile…"

He lifted his head and watched the two of you having fun with the three little boys and sighed. His wife was right. You looked so happy in Bradley's arms, waltzing and laughing with the kids. He'd never seen you look so radiant, as cliché as it sounded. Your brothers also seemed to have accepted the newcomer without too much fuss. So Beau seemed to be the only one who was uncomfortable with the whole situation.

He nodded and kissed his wife on the forehead. "Okay, I'll try... but I'm not promising anything."

Vivian rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. She knew for a fact that your father would quickly accept Bradley as well.

Lunch went off without a hitch, Beau swallowing his pride not to be as awkward with Bradley as possible, although he did draw a few murderous looks from your father when he put his hand a little too high on your thigh or lower back. After dessert, he helped your brothers put the kids down for a nap and let them share the convertible bed in your little study. Your sisters-in-law and your brother-in-law, Evan - Aaron's husband - helped you with the dishes. They gently teased you that Bradley was a very handsome young man and that you had chosen well. 

"I know I did. Look at you all, we Simpsons always have good taste," you sniped back with a wink and a teasing smile, making them laugh.

"Wait, wait, wait... So he was your regular booty call after your first assignment?" Evan seemed to realize. You shushed him and made sure that your parents didn't hear him say that. Annie laughed a little and grabbed your shoulder, making you look into her eyes. 

"I can see why you qualified him as the best sex of your life after the upper body I saw this morning," she teased you again, making your face completely flush. You practically begged her to stop talking about your sex life, very embarrassed. But the three of them could be little bullies and they loved to tease you sometimes.

"Guys, please stop. If my father hears you-"

"Hear what, Stormy?"

You turned and paled a little under your father's cold gaze and tight smile. Your sister-in-law and brother-in-law took the opportunity to run off like teenagers, and of course Bradley arrived just then, smiling carelessly. 

"The three cataclysms are finally asleep. Is everything okay in here?" he asked as he joined you in front of your father. He immediately wiped the smile off his face when he saw the look on Beau's face.

"You're lucky it's my wife's birthday, Bradshaw," he growled, his eyes staring straight into your souls, "but if I hear one more detail about your... nocturnal activities, I'm going to make sure that the two of you are as far away from each other as possible, even if it means sending one of you to Japan or Korea. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Bradley replied promptly, "Clear as day.”

"For God's sake, Dad, aren't you being a little extreme? I'm a responsible adult-"

"I'm warning you, I don't want another grandchild too soon. Keep it in your pants."

"Dad!!"

Just when you thought you couldn't get any more embarrassed, your dad had the right words. He left the two of you in the kitchen, muttering that he was getting too old for this. 

"Oh my God..." You cursed as you hid your face in your hands and turned towards the sink. Of all the weird things that could happen, you'd really hoped no one would mention your sex life. You felt a little angry, but more than that, you were extremely embarrassed. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the counter as you lowered your head. You felt the warmth of Bradley's body enveloping you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his front against your back and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing, babe? I told you it would take more than that to scare me off... Maybe your dad hasn't fallen for the Bradshaw charm yet, but I'm working on it..." he tried to cheer you up, "And now I have an army of kids who love me, I can order them to defend me."

You smiled, amused at his silliness. "You're really good with kids, but I think it's them who will command you..."

"Maybe you're right," he laughed a little and kissed the hollow of your neck, his mustache tickling you, "but your mother has already adopted me. I'm protected."

You laughed with him, your embarrassment and anger disappearing. You leaned against him, enjoying the hug he offered you. These simple gestures were so comforting that it was almost frightening how quickly he could soothe you. You closed your eyes as he hummed and softly danced with you in the kitchen. It was so cliché, right out of a rom-com, but you couldn’t care less.

After a few minutes, you regained enough courage to join the rest of your family in the living room. Your in-laws gave you apologetic looks, and your brothers were a little lost, but didn't dare ask. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Bradley learned every little anecdote your mother had to share; whether it was about your brothers, you, or even your father, she was more than happy to share with him. Jamie and Alice had fallen asleep in the garden, making your mother smile in awe. Nathan laughed a little with Aaron. "We warned them that a newborn was exhausting, but they insisted on coming here their own way...". 

You laughed a little too, it was true they looked exhausted. But little Juliet was so cute that they forgot how tired they were. 

Speaking of her, the baby phone warned everyone that she was waking up. You volunteered to warm her bottle and Bradley went to get her. Alice had put the travel crib in your room so the other three children would not be disturbed if Juliet woke up. 

When the milk was at the right temperature, you joined Bradley in your room. Your cheeks flushed and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you saw him holding the little one. He rocked her gently, stroking her cheek with his index finger. He seemed so natural that it made you fall even more in love with him. 

You shook your head, your father's voice echoing in your head: "No more grandchildren for now.”

You joined him and let him gently place the baby in your arms. You smiled and fed the hungry five-month-old in your arms. Bradley leaned against the doorframe and watched you with a soft smile. You, too, were a natural with children. Juliet seemed so comfortable in your arms and you seemed so relaxed. He found himself daydreaming about the two of you having children together. He blushed as he imagined you pregnant with his baby... and Nathan giggled behind him. "Calm your horses Bradshaw, you're not putting a baby in my sister anytime soon."

Bradley's face turned as bright red as yours. "Nathan, shut up!" you yelled-whispered at him, careful not to disturb the eating baby in your arms.

“What? You heard our old man, "No more grandchildren for now!”” Nathan grinned and put his arm around Bradley's shoulders.

"I can't promise that..." Bradley mumbled softly, mesmerized by the sight of you holding Juliet against you as you burped her after she had finished her bottle. Nathan's eyes widened and he tried his best not to burst out laughing. "What did you say, Brad’ ? I think I misheard you?"

You blushed as you realized what your boyfriend had just said.

"I... Nothing!" Bradley defended himself weakly, very embarrassed. Nathan teased him until your mother told him to stop, threatening him with no cake after dinner. He immediately stopped and went to get his son after whispering to Bradley that he wouldn't forget what he had just said. You decided not to talk about it, feeling a little embarrassed as well.

It wasn't long before dinnertime arrived, and your father was relaxed and talking with Bradley. You even caught them laughing together. This interaction was reassuring for the rest of the evening.

As usual, your mother had cooked for a regiment, and your refrigerator was full of leftovers. She made Bradley promise to stop by the family home and look at the family albums and your childhood bedroom. He laughed a little but agreed. 

You walked everyone back to their cars, helped them with the kids' stuff, and your dad gave you one last hug and said good night. He said goodbye to Bradley with a slight smile and a quick hug. 

When everyone was gone, you collapsed on your sofa, drained of all energy. Bradley joined you with a smile and pulled you right into his arms.

"That didn't go so badly after all..."

You nodded, yawned and put your arms around him. You thought back to the day that had just passed, to that roller coaster of emotions, and laughed a little.

"So... eager to put a baby inside me Lieutenant?"

"Oh my God Y/N!!" Bradley blushed, hiding his face behind his fists in total embarrassment. You laughed and teased him about it. You preferred to take it as a joke because neither of you were anywhere near ready to have children of your own, you both agreed on that. Or did you?

He turned to you, a serious expression on his face.

"And what if I am? Would you... would you be on board to have kids with me? Not right now, of course, but... I... I can't imagine a future without you in it, and I'd like to have kids with you. I know we haven't really been together that long, but we've known each other for a long time... and oh my God, I'm rumbling," he groaned, rubbing his face before looking back at you. "What I mean is that I love you and I don't want to live without you. Maybe it's rushed, maybe you-"

You interrupted him, pulled him by the collar and kissed him. You didn’t know what came over you; maybe it was the fact that he had just admitted his feelings, or the fact that he was already planning a life with you. Maybe both. Certainly both.

"I love you too," you whispered between two kisses, "and I don't want to be without you either... and I would love to start a family with you someday, Lieutenant Bradshaw..."

You smiled, your forehead pressed against his, and he chuckled in relief.

"Today was really like you... a storm..." he sighed, smiling and stroking your cheeks.

"I know... are you sure you can keep up with my family?" you teased, "Now that you've messed with the storm, the cyclone will never be far away."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Stormy."

[thewadapan]

Insane that the last Team Fortress 2 comic came out, and perhaps more insane is how effectively it resolves the themes of the story, considering the whole thing spun out of some silly gag comics for a first person shooter, which had a bunch of lore back-ported onto it, with this particular issue having spent nearly eight years in development hell...

I love video games, and I love trying to rationalise the insane logic of how they work using fiction. Or not even to rationalise, just to kind of like... take it at face value? There's a great bit in one of the Team Fortress 2 comics where the mercenaries are going to be fighting an army of robots (in the game's PVE mode) and, at that point in the story, Mann Co. is bankrupt, so they're not getting paid—but they're mercenaries, so why are they fighting? And Ms. Pauling just comes right out and says, "For reasons I can't comprehend or explain, the robots run on piles of money. Destroy them and whatever falls out is yours." Risk of Rain has a similar conceit, where the aliens explode into currency, something that's diegetically acknowledged in the in-game logs.

The comics also deserve serious credit for genuinely pushing the limits of the comic medium, by explicitly using the fact that this is something people are reading on their computers. You see Webtoons currently are doing something similar, optimised for phones with their infinite scrolling. Well, here everything's landscape, and you advance through the comic using the arrow keys or whatever, and there's all these little gags that rely on hiding a speech bubble at first, or tweaking a panel, or doing a jump-cut, which are borderline impossible to replicate in print (the closest thing traditional comics have as a tool is the page-turn, which some writers do use to great effect).

It might just be that Team Fortress 2 was one of the things that heavily informed my sense of humour at a formative age, but I still come back to it and think it's the funniest thing in the world. And a big part of what makes the humour work, for me, is that it is just barely grounded in the real world. When someone gets their hand cut off and it's played for laughs, they've still just had their hand cut off. All the blood and guts is right there to see. Characters like Spy and Ms. Pauling frequently ground the story in these bureaucratic material concerns—like, someone is having to go around burying all the bodies.

Which means that when the story takes something which genuinely started as nothing more than a joke, and uses it for pathos, those beats can actually hit home. The big example is the joke about Spy having sex with Scout's mom, which in the comics morphs into this running thread about Spy probably being Scout's father, which in turn plays into these themes of regret and cycles of violence... and that was obviously never planned from the start, even the early examples in the comics are very much within the realm of plausible deniability, but over time they're clearly like—well, what if that was the case? What then? It's such good yes-anding.

Certain characters—the Pyro and the Engineer—do get pretty short-changed, which I think is mostly because the other characters just lend themselves much better to the extremely dialogue-dense style of comedy. The Engineer spends most of the numbered issues completely sidelined, looking after the Administrator; I mostly played Engineer when I played the game, so I do find that a bit disappointing. I don't think the Sentry Gun even gets a look-in! But still, nine playable characters plus the supporting cast is a lot to keep track of, and I think they chose the right ones to focus on (Scout, Soldier, Spy, Heavy).

Part of what made Team Fortress 2 always appeal to me above and beyond any other first-person shooter was its obvious awareness that the fighting is not, in fact, good, or just, or meaningful, or anything other than a pointlessly cynical greed-fuelled slaughter over nothing. It's just these drab industrial sites and bodies being thrown at one another, on repeat, forever. I think if you want to take a multiplayer game like this and build up a narrative on top of it, it's kind of the only honest approach you can take. Seeing similar stories in this and in RoosterTeeth's Red vs. Blue around the same time left a big impression on me as a teenager.

Contrast Overwatch (of course), which always billed itself as a superhero story, which had clearly-defined good-versus-evil flavour, which purported to depict a global conflict of world-shattering stakes, where every single piece of fucking tie-in media was a saccharine sentimental little snoozefest where characters will say things like "Oh no!" unironically. In Overwatch, the playable characters come from all over the world, they're these collar-tuggingly direct stereotypes, and it's like... wow, the military-industrial complex is so inclusive, you guys! Meanwhile, Team Fortress 2 has stereotypes of its own, but the intent is so completely different. Sniper, Heavy, Demoman, Medic, Spy have these clearly-defined national backgrounds, but they've shed all nationalistic ties, civilized human society would shun them, and now all they can do is kill for money they will never have cause to spend.

And the supporting characters invented for the comic all support this theme of bitter, cynical hate, of pointless bickering and petty feuds. Brothers Redmond and Blutarch turn themselves into monsters trying to outlive each other solely out of spite, not even just to enjoy their lives for as long as possible! When Gray Mann offs them, his characterisation sees their mindless, stupid schemes replaced with cold rationalism, to match the Administrator's own ruthless efficiency, but the substance of their conflict is no different. Wait, is the moral of the Team Fortress 2 comics just... old people bad? Look at the Team Fortress Classic guys...

I don't know. Overwatch was heavily billed on the quality of its worldbuilding and writing and characters (I was always like, what worldbuilding? What writing? What characters?), and like the many, many MCU films which nobody thinks about or talks about or cares about any more, I don't think I've ever seen someone actually talk about that media as art, except to point out its shortcomings. Nobody will remember any of it. Oh god, I just remembered about all the Overwatch porn. Okay, people will remember it, just not for the right reasons.

Meanwhile, I've known people over the last eight years who routinely joked about the final Team Fortress 2 comics never coming out. For something so ancillary, so inessential, to have made such a big impression on people, is something that in this case speaks to its success on a creative level. If anything, I wish it was less of a transmedia narrative, that this was just a single book I could pick up off the shelf and give to someone like "read this!" and that's all they'd need to know. Maybe I should try to compile some sort of reading list, hmm.

[pluralthey]

what steps do you go through to draw in your current style? do you have any pointers about it? its absolutely one of my favorites

i'm not sure if i think of my process in steps. in my head, i'm just straightforwardly drawing the shapes the characters are made of at angles that look right and building on that... luckily, i stream when i draw every day, so i have a ton of videos of myself drawing. example:

i haven't bothered to upload a lot of the modern streams to youtube because my video editor can't handle editing 4-8 hour files even if i'm speeding them up and technically making them shorter because of the way video editors interact with files, and the freeware i use isn't able to make proxy files. the act of downloading and editing and combing through all the footage is a ton of time and memory space and it's just not what people are usually looking for from me, so it's not where i wanna put my time.

but that's neither here nor there. what i mean to say is these vods are really long. so you don't want to rawdog those. but you can just download a video speed controller extension to your browser and it's extremely easy to cruise through the backlog of vods at ~15x speed.

i've gone ahead and highlighted some of the recent videos to separate the chaff from the wheat. i tend to take long breaks to eat or walk my dog so there are big periods of Nothing Happening. i'll try to skim some more and do the same. unfortunately, i don't have any good videos of me coloring, since twitch deletes vods after like a month, and i've just been focusing on sketching.

but yeah, in general, it really depends on how good i'm feeling on a given day -- sometimes i will sketch multiple times for just one panel and sometimes i won't sketch at all. i use paint tool sai 2 and a pixel brush usually 2 pixels wide with no pen pressure. for comics, i have 1 layer for the panel borders, 1 layer for the sketch, 1 layer for the lines, 1 layer for the colors, 1 layer for the text, and 1 layer speech bubbles. sometimes there are special effects that overlap borders and need their own special layers. when i start sketching a new panel, i will usually put it on its own new layer, and sometimes for multiple characters i will put them on another new layer at a different opacity. this is mostly to move them around without constant cleanup. once i've gotten a sketch pretty finished, i merge all of the layers into the sketch layer. the line layer is usually just the sketch layer cleaned up and paint bucket tooled black. but basically, the vast majority of my time working on art is spent trying to fix small things like tangents, fitting speech bubbles into panels, thinking about how to lay out a page, checking continuity interaction with other pages, that kind of stuff. the complex technical parts of the process are to save time on those in ways i can without compromising quality. the other portion of working on the art is like "step 1: draw head circle (or jessie head diamond). step 2: draw the rest of the owl." i don't know if this was helpful at all y_y if you want more pointers i might be able to offer clarity on more specific questions!

[blossomthepinkbunny]

Vivzepop will always be the biggest issue with her own show if she doesn't change. And i'm not saying that because I desperately want to shit on her but rather because it's so clear that her attitude is what made Hazbin Hotel be so dissapointing after the long wait. The pilot released four years ago and Viv had these characters for much longer than that. One could assume that with this much time on her hands she would have a concise plan for how a series of her story would play out (I can imagine that having an own show is a dream for lots of creative people out there). And I get that that plan might get screwed up by a shorter episode count then expected, but she should be the one who knows her story best and who should know what stuff could also be cut out. The first season of Hazbin Hotel is so incredibly overstuffed with characters and plot that it completely looses the main premise the show was originally pitched with (the idea of a hotel were sinners are redeemed. As it is now the hotel is really not important at all). People have talked endlessly about how Viv can't handle criticism and it really sucks because criticism is one of the best ways to improve your writing, drawings, music etc. Without criticism you won't refine the thing you're working on in a meaningful way. Of course it feels bad when you put something out there you wanted to share and then people critique it, but that's part of pretty much every creative journey, or atleast it should be and Vivzepop shouldn't get a pass from this just because she doesn't like it. And there are great shows, movies or books that are rarely or almost never criticised. But the artists behind these works probably went trough years of honing what they do by being criticised for the stuff they put out. And I don't want to say that Vivzepop didn't work hard to make Hazbin Hotel, but it is hard to claim that she improves in her craft, when everytime someone says they don't like her show she throws a hissy fit. She wants the same reactions that these other amazing pieces of media get without ever listening to criticism. Which she sees as a personal attack rather than a tool that could help her to achieve the same level of writing prowess the creators behind media like that have. She believes she is already on the same level as them, just because she basically shuts anyone out who disagrees with her. There's this clip at the end of a Drew Gooden Video which I think sums up the situation with Viv pretty good (the Video is called "Leaving the YouTube Bubble"). He is talking about Lily Singh and her talk show but I feel like a lot of the stuff he says about handling criticism applies to Vivzepop as well.

(you might have to turn up the audio).

Unprofessional behaviour like that might be excusable when the creator is pretty young or they are interacting with publicity for the first time really. But neither of that applies to Viv. And Hazbin Hotel isn't just an indie animation pilot on youtube anymore. It's now a fully realized show created with a pretty prominent studio on a major streaming network and it should be held to the same standards as other shows or movies alike (not saying indie animation or animation on youtube doesn't have a standard but with more budget and support, there's obviously going to be different expectations for the show now). There have been issues in Helluva Boss and the Hazbin Hotel pilot ever since their release which could've been handled with more time and the new show. But Vivzepop shows time and time again that she isn't willing to listen to people who criticise her, which could actually lead to her show getting better. I don't like Viv or her work a lot. I think she is incredibly unprofessional and she has done her fair share of questionable or problematic stuff, which often leads to issues in her shows. There have been some characters I like, some songs or scenes that were pretty well done, very cool animation and an actually interesting premise on paper in HH and HB. There are things that make me come back to these shows to watch the next episode. And i'm obviously passionate enough about these shows to make whole posts about what I think was done badly and what could be changed. But for the aspects of HH or HB I enjoy, there are soo many more problems I have with it. Problems that won't go away unless Viv stops seeing every criticism as a personal attack. Because if Vivzepop doesn't stop acting like her writing is some unreachable stuff that needs no changes I don't really see a point in assuming that these shows will ever get better.

[forgettable-au]

Whats your process like for making the pages/script/comic in general? any advice you could give?

Hii:D

I'm gonna ramble about this a lot, so I'm adding this read more <3

That way this post won't be super long on the main page

If you DO want to see everything go ahead!

So! Right now I work on the pages from monday to saturday :]

I divide work like this:

Monday-Tuesday: Script, storyboard and dialogue bubbles!

Wednesday-Thursday: Lineart for the 4 pages! 2 pages each day

Friday-Saturday: Color the 4 pages! 2 pages each day

Talking about writing

I don't have the full script ready yet because I realized

I SUCK AT WRITING, NOT IN A "My writing is so bad way" BUT IN A "I can't write words without getting confused" WAY

That's one of the reasons why it took me SO long to start this thing! Because I wanted the script to be fully ready! And I couldn't do that because whenever I'm writing I get super confused😭😭I don't know how to explain it but I NEED visuals ??? I need to see how the dialogue I'm writing is gonna look???

So now, whenever I'm writing, I'm also drawing at the same time! AND FOR SOME REASON THAT WORKS, AND SUDDENLY I CAN WRITE

I REALLY DON'T KNOW WHY THAT IS BUT, UH, IT WORKS FOR ME!!! THAT'S ALL I NEED!!

This does NOT mean I'm improvising the story! I do have the full story ready and outlined! I'm following that outline :]

I realized having everything ready might work for some people, but it wasn't working for me D:

So, uh, my advice for writing is to trust yourself and to try different methods! You'll find something that works for you :]

I DO recommend having an outline of the story before beginning!! You don't need to know everything from the beginning but you need to know what NEEDS to happen and a basic idea of how it should end :]

Now about the making of the comic pages

Pls look for references constantly!! Very important!!

There's many different ways to make comics!

I always look in pinterest for panel layout/color pallete inspiration

I use clip studio paint to make everything, it's super useful cause it has a LOT of features that make the process MUCH easier (vector layers, a paint bucket that actually works, special comic configurations, a panel tool, 3d viewing which is super fun, predetermined speech bubbles, the story editor, etc.)

It takes me like?? Approximately 2 and half hours to make one page?? Some more and some less

But I'm also an easily distracted person so sometimes 2 hours turn into 3 because I spent 1 hour getting distracted with other stuff 😭

Uhhm, so yeah!! I think the layout is my favorite part, my least favorite part is adding the speech bubbles...ESPECIALLY if I have to add Wingdings

Andd I think that covers most of it? If you all have more specific questions let me know because there's a LOT of stuff that goes into making these😭😭but I get better and faster each time! My first pages took me like 4 hours on average...some would take me 6 hours...THAT WENT DOWN A LOT :D

[her-devils-advocate]

Pillow Talk

pairings: Femshep x Garrus

genre: fluff, comfort

summary: Shepard has finally been convinced to take a break from her work. Meanwhile, Garrus reflects on his relationship with Shepard and comes to the realisation that they both had feelings for one another a lot earlier than he initially thought.

Set during ME3.

word count: 1,517

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58434538

The quiet hum of the ship's engines echoes around the quiet room, occasionally broken by the bubbling of the fish tank’s filters when Garrus lets out a quiet sigh of relief, it had been a war of its own to convince Shepard to get some rest. He's still surprised he managed to get her bundled under the soft blankets with him. Now he only needs to get her to actually sleep, but knowing her, he will take what he can get. He can’t complain considering that either way, he gets to hold her for a few hours and she’s not running herself ragged with work.

It’s better to have her mind resting in any way it can, especially when she all but refuses to sleep.

Garrus looks down at the smaller woman, idly fiddling away with her omni-tool, the object casting a warm orange glow upon her face. A part of him thinks that he will never come to terms with just how lucky he is while another part of him fills with concern that she might be working still, but her reports don’t usually cause her to smirk at the orange screen, so he’s ready to let that concern die as quickly as it arose. While they cuddle in a gentle silence, he can’t help himself from subtly admiring her; from the way her silky hair brushes against the bare skin of her shoulders, down to the way her odd amount of fingers glide over the virtual interface around her arm. 

Back when he first got to know her, he had pushed down the flickering flame that ignited whenever she flashed him a gentle smile, fully convinced she would never have a flame of her own, not for him, at least. They had more important things to worry about at the time, a stupid thought in comparison to the not-so-stupid things they worry about today. 

He wants to smack his younger self for letting the chance to kick things off early go to waste. But as he watches her chew on her lower lip in thought, her eyebrow creasing slightly before typing away, he wonders if things are better this way. Sure, they haven’t gotten the chance to experience a relationship without the constant stress and anxiety that a suicide mission or war happens to bring, but they were both different people back then. Their strong relationship was built upon the back of such a close-knit friendship, after all. Despite that logic, Garrus’ mind can’t help but replay those tender moments from their hunt for Saren back to him, what-ifs filling the gaps in his memories when he thinks of the way she would gently rest her hand on his bicep after a particularly rough mission. The way she always sought him out first during her rounds of the ship, even though it would have made more sense to start with the crew deck. Or the way she would always extend an offer to him whenever she had a sliver of extra time to kill on the Citadel, usually while the Normandy was being refuelled or when they needed to stock up on supplies. 

His mind comes to a sudden halt and for a brief moment, Garrus would admit to being an idiot, just this once. A small giggle breaks him from his musing and he gives her a questioning look as she turns to gaze up at him.

"Joker's placed a bet on who's going to be the first to pick a fight with Javik. I'm not going to encourage that one, but I can't exactly say that I blame him." She explains, waving her hand dismissively.

Garrus lets out a chuckle of his own, muttering his agreement as he shuffles their positions, shifting to hold her in his arms from behind. She grins before turning off the omni-tool and leaning back to be as close to him as possible.

"Were you flirting with me?" He lowers his face to nuzzle her hair, causing his voice to come out muffled despite the embarrassed hum of his subvocals.

"You're going to have to be more specific, love, considering we're currently lying in bed together." Her voice is light and he doesn’t need to see her to know she’s smirking.

"I mean back on the SR-1, when you would come and chat with me while I worked on the Mako." He watches her fidget, burying her face into his arms wrapped firmly around her, almost as if it could hide her from his sharp eye.

"Oh..." She mutters quietly, her face flushing crimson.

"Are you really getting embarrassed over flirting with me back then, considering we are, and I quote, "lying in bed together"?" Garrus brings his hands up in front of her, making sure she can see the exaggerated air quotes while he pitches his voice up a few octaves, earning him a small scoff as she resurfaces. She gives his shin a playful kick with her heel before wiggling out of his grip so she can turn to face him.

"Hush, Vakarian. Yeah, I did flirt with you here and there. It wasn't the most obvious, but I had no idea you were that blind to it, are you really just noticing?" She tilts her head to watch his reaction intensely, a catlike smile taking over her expression as she notices the blue tint taking over his neck. She does her best to stifle her chuckle and reaches up to gently stroke one of his mandibles, "...Now who's the one getting embarrassed?"

“Yeah, well, I caught up in the end, didn’t I?” He does his best to sound confident, full well knowing the retort she was preparing, ready to shoot his way.

“Sure, but only because I had to risk an HR incident with you to test the waters.” The groan she gets from him in response causes her eyes to light up with glee, she then shuffles closer to rest her head against his carapace, sneakily stealing most of the covers as she does. He lets her get away with it, just this once.

He gently glides a talon up and down the length of her arm, never growing tired of the way her skin reacts to the touch, before pressing his mouth plates against her forehead. If anyone were to tell him back then that Commander Shepard would look adorable within the arms of a turian, Garrus probably would have laughed in their faces. If anyone were to tell him that she would look this adorable within his arms, well, Garrus would probably have passed out from laughter instead, not once believing that he of all people would be her choice. Now, he simply thanks the Spirits each day for the sight.

Shepard slowly rises in the bed, instantly catching his attention and before he can question her, she not-so-gently bumps her forehead against his and holds it there. Despite the adoration overflowing in his chest, he can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes him. He catches the confusion in her eyes and holds the back of her head before she can pull away, not wanting the moment to end so soon.

“You really need to stop hanging around Wrex and Grunt. A turian kiss is supposed to be gentle, not a krogan headbutt, sweetheart.” He lectures, subvocals humming with amusement as she rolls her eyes at him.

“That takes the fun out of things,” she retorts, her voice taking on a songlike tone as he lets out a small snort before she continues, “But yes, I was flirting with you back then. I wasn’t entirely sure if you weren’t catching onto it or if you were just not interested. Guess I got my answer there in the end, though you can see where we were both going wrong considering my own flirting skills were basically non-existent.”

“Were?” Garrus mutters, earning him a collision with one of the spare pillows.

“Hey, I’ve improved since we first started dating! Besides, you wouldn’t have me any other way.” She declares as she wraps her legs around his own and clings onto him tightly.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t” He punctuates his point by taking the blanket and re-arranging it, making sure she’s properly wrapped up as she begins to let out a small yawn, “Looks like it's time you tried to get some sleep and no arguing, I’ll be right here.”

She instantly goes to argue, despite his words, only to be stopped when he lightly presses his finger against her lips, effectively silencing her protests. She gives a small huff of defeat before nodding and he searches her eyes for a moment before dropping his hand, placing it between her shoulder blades and holding her close.

“If it distracts your mind and helps you fall asleep easier, you can just think of ways to improve your flirting techniques,” Garrus suggests flippantly as his own eyes flutter shut for the night and as unhelpful as his suggestion is, Shepard finds herself taking the advice and letting a dozen scenarios flood her mind, just for him.

[francixoxoxo]

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

Cooking was a lovely kind of art.

You created, to let others consume. Your creation directly filled the bellies and hearts of the people you cared for, the love sprinkled in the form of salt or sugar into the food is always evident.

Knives were no stranger. They were double-edged, not literally but in a sense; They were a tool, a clean-cut and a bit of a chef's best friend. Now, though, you'd hardly call your newly-whetted knife a friend.

Billy heard your screaming for him through the open window above the sink, Chantilly curtains blowing in the wind and framing your horrified expression as you looked down to where he could not see. He was in the yard, getting your little garden prepared for the spring so that you could skip the dirty work and go straight into planting your vegetables.

But that heartbreaking sound coming from your parted lips had him throwing the shovel onto the dirt, wiping the sweat from his brow and running inside. "What happened, what's wrong?" His voice was dripping with anxiety as his boots thumped against the hardwood. His shirt was long-discarded, the New Mexican sun too oppressive for unnecessary fabrics, his suspenders hanging around his thighs. The buckles of them clinked against the tile as he knelt next to where you sat, back against the cabinet.

A deep cut through your wrist dripped blood onto your house dress and the floor. Tears had only just begun to fill your eyes, the surprise putting them off until now. "My hand slipped, I-- I was cuttin' the eggplant, n' I just-"

"Okay, okay, yer fine. S'all fine, baby, just--" Billy cuts you off firmly, not without a poorly concealed fear behind his voice. His azure eyes are wide and buggy with a wild thing, the nerves that your pain always seem to induce in him. He snatches the dishtowel off the countertop, pressing it to your wrist where you'd sliced the skin. The side of your wrist was bleeding through the daisy yellow dish towel until the cheery color was vermillion.

It hurt terribly as he put pressure on the cut, you whined in pain. "That hurts, you're hurting me!" He winces, a deep grimace creasing his features.

"I know, I know, but you gotta put pressure," Billy cooes, one hand clutching the opposite side of your wrist to hold it still and his other holding the towel to the wound. If he wasn't already sweating outside, this whole ordeal would make him break a sweat.

Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly from the searing pain, Billy murmuring sweet words to you as the bleeding staunched enough for him to peel the towel away a bit. His free hand is both bloody and sweaty but it comes to hold the side of your hair regardless, he pulls you in for a lingering kiss to your crown. "Yer doin' so great, baby." Billy peers with drawn brows at the cut, making sure the towel is positioned so you can't see the damage. He shakes his head. "S' not that bad."

"Swear?" You sniffle, looking up at him and meeting his azure eyes. The soft smile that crosses his features soothes the nerves spiking like needles all over.

"Swear." Billy promises. "Don't even need stitches." He tells you to hold the towel down again as he stands, rummaging through the medicine cabinet for bandages and a little bottle of carbolic acid. He remembers insisting it was unnecessary, that alcohol does the trick, but you fought him down. As always, you ended up being right.

Billy isn't no medic, but he's pretty satisfied with how he wraps you up. "I ain't gonna let my woman go 'round without some good care." He'd insisted, his seriousness making a laugh bubble from your lips. A peck to your lips couldn't shut you up, but Billy didn't mind if it was at his expense; as long as he gets to hear that beautiful sound.

"I'm sorry, this is so stupid." You huff, closing your eyes as Billy cuts the end of the bandages with his teeth. He snorts, shaking his head at you and pressing a careful kiss to the material above the cut. It's a weird kind of tickle, one that wouldn't feel pleasant if your heart wasn't tricked into fluttering by the handsome man in front of you.

"Aint ever stupid when it comes t'you."