#i feel like this was badly written but i'm so tired i'm so sorry please forgive

[rainybubbles]

How do you meet COD Men ? - AU civilian

Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Price, König, Rudy, Alex, Nikolai

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written, mid or if they're OOC)

SOAP as a firefighter : 

-"911, how can I assist you today?"

-"I think there's been a break-in at my place!"

-"Could you describe the intruder, ma'am?"

-"It's... a turkey."

-"A turkey?"

-"Yeah, one of those gobbling birds! My neighbors use a live one for their Thanksgiving, and it somehow busted loose. It barged into my place through the door, gave me a real fright. I dashed into my bathroom, but it went all 'Rambo' on my door, and now it's busted. My handle is broken, I'm stuck in here!"

-"Don't worry, help is on the way."

-And that's when you met Soap. There he was, showing up at your doorstep in full firefighter gear.

-"Hey there ?" he greeted, axe in hand, ready to face off against the rogue turkey.

-You weren’t kidding, he thought.

-He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the havoc that bird had wreaked in your place.

-Your poor sofa was toast, and your table was in pieces. Slowly, he made his way to the damaged door.

-"Hey there, Ah’m a firefighter. I’m here tae break down the door. Please step back."

-"Oh thanks ! I was starting to think I'd be spending the night bawling in my bathtub."

-He chuckled.

-"Wouldnae want a lovely person like yerself spendin’ Thanksgiving solo."

-"Thanks," you replied.

-"I'll get started," Soap said as he began dismantling the door.

-"Here, it looks like the turkey's gone," he reported.

-But when he turned to you, he noticed something amiss.

- Normally, people were relieved to see him, not scared out of their wits.

-His gaze shifted back, and that's when he saw it—the monstrous turkey, ready to pounce.

-Without a second thought, he scooped you up, effortlessly carrying you despite whatever size or weight you were, and bolted past the bird.

-"Why's that thing so fast?" he exclaimed.

-"They're practically dinosaurs, I swear!" you cried from the safety of his arms.

-You both made it to the street. Soap dialed up a wildlife specialist to handle the feathery menace.

-"Ah’l swearin’ off turkey forever," he vowed.

-"I think finding a new place to live might be a good idea," you whispered, still trying to calm your nerves.

-"Aye, yer neighbors are some real characters for pullin’ a stunt like this."

-"Thanks again for this. I mean, I'm sure you've got more pressing cases."

-"No’ really. Usually, it's just family squabbles. Last time, Ah had a grandma tryin’ tae kill her son wi’ mashed potatoes," he joked.

-"Grandma can get wild," you chuckled.

-"Ye have no idea. Name's John, by the way. Sorry for forgettin’ ma manners."

-"Hey, a wild turkey trying to take me out can do that to a person," you quipped. "I'm Y/n," you added.

-He grinned.

-“I owe you big time, Soap," you said, finally stepping out of the bathroom. "Guess this Thanksgiving, I'll be giving thanks for firefighters and sturdy bathtubs."

-Soap gave you a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's all in a day's work. Plus, -it's not every day I get to play hero to a person in distress... from a turkey."

-After the turkey trouble was sorted, Soap bid his farewell. Little did he know, two days later, your new neighbor would be attempting to cook aluminum in his microwave. Maybe this time he'd find a moment to ask for your number.

-------

GHOST as a chef : 

-The poor waitress had asked you twice if you wanted to order by the time your date arrived. But it was painfully obvious. 

-You had been stood up.

 -You tried to ignore the looks, the sensation of your clothes feeling too tight, too constricting. You felt like a clown.

-Staring at your phone, you sent messages, hoping for excuses like traffic or an important matter.

-Maybe he had a flat tire, or perhaps his boss demanded he stay late. Yet, two hours later, you were still there, feeling like a fool.

-That's when the message came: "Oh, I was just joking, you're not my type, you know."

-Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the humiliation wash over you.

-How could someone flirt for two months just as a joke? He messaged you every night; how were you supposed to know it was all a farce?

-Biting your lip, you stood up.

-At this hour, you hoped there were still buses running.

-You couldn't afford an Uber. Yet, as you gathered your things, the waitress approached.

-"Excuse me, but your food will arrive."

-"I... I'm sorry, but I can't... I can't afford anything here, and my date stood me up. He was supposed to pay, and..." you rambled, feeling ashamed, but she led you back to your seat.

-You felt even more ashamed. This place was so luxurious.

-"I really can't afford it, madam," you whispered.

-"It's on the house. The chef offered it," she said gently.

-"Oh."

-You didn't know if you felt grateful or not. It felt like pity, but food from a Michelin-starred restaurant was still a luxury, so you ate. It was unbelievably good. You felt so thankful to the chef.

-"I... could I thank him?" you asked after finishing your dinner.

-"He doesn't speak to clients. That's why he opened his own restaurant — so he could remain unseen by his patrons and not be obligated to accept their thanks, As he says “I Ghost clients”" the waitress explained.

-"I see. His dishes are so precise, it's impressive."

-"Yeah, he's good with a knife."

-"Well, thanks again for offering me this. It was a crappy night, but at least I ended up in heaven," you said.

-She smiled, and you left.

-But you felt indebted to him. Dishes like that cost a lot.

- Even if you didn't doubt he could afford it, you felt like you had to do something in return.

-So the next night, you baked cookies.

-You felt ridiculous with your small Tupperware and homemade cookies.

-They'd probably taste awful to him, you thought, but you wanted to repay him.

-"Hi, I... wanted to give this to Ghost? He offered me dishes last time, and I wanted to thank him. I understand if you say no. I mean, it could have poison in it, but..." you rambled to the waiter.

-"No need, we'll take it," the waiter with a mohawk said with a smile.

-You felt like he knew something you didn't. As you were about to leave, a tall, blond man walked over, holding a cookie.

-"Thanks," he said with a gruff voice behind his mask.

-Shit. Ghost was... this man?

-This mountain of muscles made those beautiful dishes? Those meticulous details came from his hands? You were impressed.

-"Do you like it?" you asked, unsure.

-"Best cookies I've tasted."

-"I know you're lying."

-"Second," he admitted. "My ma's were better."

-You chuckled.

-"I can give you the recipe. I mean, you really saved me last night. It was so... humiliating."

-"It's not. The only one who should feel ashamed is the bloke who stood you up, love."

-"You're right, but still."

-"Come back again, Friday. With the recipe."

-"I can send it by email."

-"I want you to taste a new dish."

-"Oh."

-"Having someone honest is nice. It's a change from all the compliments."

-"Okay," you agreed.

-Little did you know, Simon would always find new dishes to make you come back.

-Of course, he could ask his sous-chefs or waiters to taste, but seeing your smile or frown after a taste was so much better.

-(I need a long fic about Simon being a chef, like this AU has so much potential, plus in kitchen you have “brigade” which could be like 141)

GAZ as a primary school teacher : 

-You were on your usual delivery route, this time dropping off packages at the primary school.

-As you made your way through the corridors, you spotted Gaz, the primary teacher, who greeted you with a smile.

-"I was waiting for you," Gaz said cheerfully.

-"Oh, am I right on time?" you responded, glancing at your phone in confusion.

-"Yes, but the kids are eager," Gaz explained.

-You furrowed your eyebrows. Eager for what? Seeing a delivery person? Or perhaps the contents of your package were something special, like paintings or other intriguing items?

-"I see," you said, still puzzled.

-"Follow me," Gaz instructed, leading you into his classroom before you could protest.

-As you entered, you were met with the curious gaze of twenty pairs of eyes.

-It dawned on you as you glanced at a piece of paper – Gaz had mistaken you for the guest speaker, an athlete scheduled to address the students.

-"Sir, I think there's been a mistake," you whispered to Gaz, but before you could say more, a child wrapped their arms around you.

-"I'm so glad you're here!" the child exclaimed, melting your resolve. How could you shatter their excitement?

-You couldn’t bear to crush their excitement. Besides, it was clear that the athlete wasn’t going to show up; it was already 10 AM, and they were supposed to be there by 8AM according to the schedule on the board.

-And so, you found yourself spinning tales to answer their questions, pretending to be the athlete they expected. 

-“Um, hey there ! Being an athlete is pretty cool, you know” you improvised, trying to sound convincing.

-“How does it feel to do sports all day ?” one curious kid asked

-“Well it’s tough but you know riding horse is fun”

-“I thought you were running”

-“RUNNING ! Of course, horse is just a hobby” you blurted out

-Despite your fibs, the kids beamed with admiration, hanging onto your every word.

-After a couple of hours, Gaz approached you with a knowing smile.

-"You're not the athlete, are you?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

-"How did you figure it out?" you replied sheepishly.

-"When you mentioned unicorns helping your coach – that was a dead giveaway," Gaz chuckled. "But I appreciate you playing along."

-"I couldn’t bear to disappoint the kids. Kids' dreams are important," you admitted, feeling a twinge of guilt.

-"Yeah, they are," Gaz agreed. "Thanks for going along with it."

-"It was more fun than my usual deliveries, anyway," you admitted with a grin.

-“Wait, your boss won’t be mad ?! I mean two hours, sorry you must be so late, no ?”he said worried

-“Don’t worry you were my last”

-As you prepared to leave, Gaz introduced himself properly.

-"Thanks against or helping out. And by the way 'm Kyle, but the kids call me Gaz – it's easier for them," he explained.

-"It was nice meeting you, Gaz," you said sincerely, touched by his kindness towards the children.

-As you left the school, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment. And to your surprise, when you made your next delivery, there was Gaz, offering to lend a hand. 

-"Thought you might need some help this time," he said with a wink.

-Maybe it was repayment for your earlier assistance, or perhaps the kids had teased him about having a crush on you – either way, you were grateful for his company.

PRICE as an uni history teacher :

-It was about 10 PM, and there you were, sprinting in high heels, your wig dangling precariously.

-"Oh, for the love of all that’s good," you muttered under your breath.

-The situation was straightforward, yet utterly absurd.

- You, a university teacher, found yourself at a costume party with a Bridgerton theme.

- After hastily getting ready at your friend’s place, it dawned on you that you had forgotten your house key.

-Sure, crashing at your friend's was an option, but you had a furry friend waiting at home who needed your attention.

-So, off you went, driving back to the only place your keys could be: the teacher's offices at the university.

- Picture this: you, clad in an 18th-century outfit, a fake wig teetering on your head, and a petticoat swishing around, all the while cursing your luck and hoping no students would spot you.

-Finally, you reached the office, finding it deserted. You located your keys and—

-"Quite the accurate ensemble, I must say."

-You froze, turning to find a man with a rather impressive beard. "Um, I can explain?"

-"Are you a student?" he asked.

-"No need to butter me up; I know I don't exactly look like one," you confessed.

-He chuckled. "Sorry, I was just trying to give you an out. You know, student parties and whatnot."

-"Thanks, but yeah, I'm the… new teacher. Guess we haven't crossed paths yet. Been here about a month," you said, extending your hand.

-"Well, isn't this a fortunate coincidence?" he remarked.

-"How so?"

-"I’m John Price," he revealed.

-Your eyes widened. Oh, crap. You just met THE history teacher of the campus dressed as a Bridgerton character. What were the odds?

-He laughed. "Nice to meet my new colleague. Heard quite a bit about your work."

-"Likewise, and… sorry about the attire," you apologized.

-"No need. It suits you. Makes me feel like a proper gentleman seeing someone dressed like that," he said with a grin.

-You chuckled nervously. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Price."

-Little did you know, your next class for the first year was a shared one with him. Dodging him might not be as simple as you thought.

NIKOLAI as a F1 pilot :

-Your friend's desperate plea over the phone stirred something in you.

-"Alright, I'll come help with the shoot," you conceded, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension.

-As you arrived at the location, taking in the serene surroundings, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place among the bustling crew.

-Your specialty lay in capturing the untamed beauty of animals—dogs, cats, and the like.

-This commercial setup felt like a far cry from your usual stomping grounds.

-Engaging in conversation with the staff about the artistic direction, you couldn't help but notice the artificiality of the setting, with fake plants and trees surrounding you.

-Nevertheless, you settled in, adjusting lights and preparing for the task at hand.

-"The model is here," an assistant announced, drawing your attention to the center of the room where a man stood, completely naked.

-"Why is he naked?" you whispered in disbelief, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks.

-"It's for the charity event, featuring naked pilots for calendars," the staff explained casually, oblivious to your discomfort.

-Stunned, you turned to your friend, silently questioning her decision to involve you in this unconventional endeavor.

-"I photograph nature and animals, not... naked humans!" you protested, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

-"Well, technically, you photograph a big snake," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye.

-You rolled your eyes, suppressing a sigh. "Ugh, don't even mention his...thing, please."

-"I don't mind being called an anaconda," the man interjected with a smirk, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your heart race.

-Caught off guard by his boldness, you shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of his proximity.

- "Sir, I'm sorry, but I wasn't warned about these... circumstances," you stammered, struggling to maintain composure.

-"I understand. If we need to reschedule, no problem, Солнышко ," he reassured, his voice low and soothing, sending shivers down your spine.

-"What did you just say?" you asked, unable to hide the hint of fluster in your tone.

-"Sorry, I meant no problem to reschedule, sunshine," he clarified, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

-"But you're... a star?" you questioned, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

-"I'm a well-known F1 pilot, yes. But I'm closer to retirement than those young ones. I doubt people would buy the calendar for me," he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings.

-"I'd certainly buy it for you," your friend chimed in, breaking the tension with a playful grin.

-He laughed, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made your cheeks flush. "And you?"

-"I... maybe? Okay, we'll do it, but I can't guarantee anything. I'm more accustomed to animals, so..." you trailed off, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the prospect of working closely with him.

-"Let's get started," he suggested, his smile softening the edges of the room and easing your nerves.

-And so, the shoot commenced, with Nikolai proving to be a surprisingly adept model, effortlessly charming everyone with his wit and charisma.

- As you directed him through the poses, you couldn't help but notice the subtle tension between you, a magnetic pull that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.

-"Thanks for today. Need a ride?" he offered, his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

-"No, I came in my car," you replied, torn between the desire to stay and the need to escape the overwhelming atmosphere.

-"The red one?" a staff member inquired, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between you.

-"Yeah, why?" you asked, feeling a knot form in your stomach at the thought of your car.

-"Sorry, mate, your car got impounded," they informed you, their words puncturing the bubble of tension that had enveloped you.

-You sighed, feeling a sense of defeat wash over you. "So, a ride?" Nikolai offered, his gaze softening with concern.

-"Yeah, I guess. What a crappy day," you muttered, cursing your luck.

-"Don't say that, it was great," he insisted, his voice gentle and reassuring.

-You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude towards him for his unexpected kindness. In his car, as he drove you away from the chaos of the shoot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a feeling that was only amplified by his soothing presence.

-"Not what you were expecting, huh?" he remarked, his tone playful yet sincere.

-"Well, I wasn't expecting a race car drive, but yeah," you chuckled, feeling the tension between you slowly dissipating.

-"I drive safely. Sometimes you need low adrenaline," he explained, his words resonating with you in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

-"Thanks again for the ride," you said, turning to him with a smile that felt more genuine than any you had worn all day.

-"No problem. I mean, you've seen me naked, so..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint in his eye.

-"Yeah, sure," you laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the playful banter.

-"If you want, you can still come to one of my races," he offered, his gaze lingering on you with a hopefulness that sent a flutter of excitement through your chest.

-"I'll think about it," you replied, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at your lips as you contemplated the possibilities that lay ahead.

ALEX as a lawyer :

-You couldn't believe your eyes.

-A client was after you for a cup of tea—yes, you heard that right, a freaking tea!

-The same tea you accidentally spilled during a chaotic rush, and she tripped you with her feet, claiming you scalded her with hot tea. The kicker?

-You knew it was iced tea.

- But it was your word against hers, and she had a squadron of lawyers ready to pounce, while you were broke. It was pretty clear how this would end.

-You sighed, resorting to searching for lawyers online, but all you found were scams.

-One promised to chase after dead people, another claimed you'd make thousands just by being pretty, and the rest boasted about defending infamous criminals with laughably bad Photoshopped images.

-Feeling desperate, you reluctantly agreed when your mom mentioned your cousin knew someone who knew someone. You certainly didn't expect a model-lawyer showing up at your doorstep with a bright smile and legal expertise.

-"Hi, I'm Alex," he offered his hand.

-"Hi, I guess you know about my... case?" you replied.

-"Yes, there's a high chance of her winning since similar cases have ruled in favor of people like her. Remember the McDonald's hot coffee incident?" he explained.

-"So I'm screwed?" you muttered.

-"Not necessarily. I can prove she's acting out of self-interest."

-"...before you say anything, you know, I can't... afford it?" you interjected.

-"Yes. I... I used to be a prominent lawyer. Perhaps you've heard of the Shepherd case?" he mentioned.

-"The CEO who got off the hook despite everyone knowing he committed tax fraud?" you recalled.

-"Yes, I was his lawyer," he admitted.

-"Oh," you murmured, taken aback.

-"I... I'm not proud of the people I've defended. I didn't realize the harm I was causing to victims. For me, everyone deserved representation, but when I saw what Shepherd did with his ill-gotten gains... I couldn't continue down that path. I signed up to advocate for people. Not evil," he confessed.

-"So you took on lost causes like me?" you mused.

-"You could say that," he smiled.

-"Well, it sounds like Daredevil. Maybe I'll catch you wearing a latex suit at night while fighting crime," you joked.

-"You might be onto something there," he replied, his expression serious.

-"Wait, you're joking?" you asked, but he didn't crack a smile.

-"Mr. Keller, you're joking, right?" you pressed, but he just smirked.

-"Let's focus on your case," he redirected.

-"You can't just dodge my question. I need to know—" 

-"Boxing. I box at night, nothing illegal. I train kids, and I've competed in the past," he confessed.

-"I see. Why do I find that hard to believe?" you teased.

-"I'm a damn good liar. I'm a lawyer," he retorted.

-"Fair point," you chuckled.”well at least I believe in the latex suit at night”

-“Kinky”he joked, you smiled.

-Alex got down to business, helping you devise a strategy.

-Maybe with this super lawyer on your side, you stood a chance. Yet, you couldn't shake the curiosity about his secrets. Who knows what uncovering them might bring?

KÖNIG as a baker :

-König had just opened his bakery.

- Eager to be neighborly, he sent some cookies to the local shops nearby.

- However, when his customers arrived one day, one of them expressed hesitation: "You know, I was hesitant to buy here because I heard you made the florist down the street sick."

-König couldn't believe his ears.

- Ashamed, he double-checked his ingredients, but everything seemed fine.

-So, he decided to switch things up and bake some croissants instead.

-Yet, the next day brought news that the florist had fallen ill due to food poisoning.

-Determined to make amends, König sent something different the following day.

-And the pattern repeated itself. After a week of this, he finally decided to confront the florist.

-Entering their cute shop, he whispered nervously, "Hallo."

-"Hi," you replied.

-"I'm König, the—"

-"The baker," you interrupted.

-He froze.

-Well, he certainly hadn't made a good impression.

-After seven incidents, he couldn't expect a warm reception, but he hoped you’d understand he hadn't done it intentionally. He wasn't a villain.

-"I'm sorry about the pastries," he began, "I swear I don't know what went wrong. Other shops ate them and had no issues. I—"

-"I know you're not trying to poison me," you interjected.

-"Oh, but... then why?" he asked.

-"I thought someone would have told you, maybe Horangi, the chef at the restaurant. But I'm lactose intolerant. I assumed you knew, so I ate your pastries thinking someone had informed you. Then, I realized that wasn't the case. But if I didn't eat your gift, you might have thought I was upset with you, so I still ate them, and—"

-"It was a misunderstanding," König finished their sentence.

-"Two anxious people overthinking things, but yeah," you admitted, laughing.

-"I promise to bake you something lactose-free," he vowed.

-"Thanks, it'll be appreciated. Your pastries were good, just not for my digestive system," you replied.

-He nodded and returned to his bakery, pondering the idea of introducing gluten and lactose-free versions of his pastries. Surely not because of the cute florist who seemed to visit more often now. Nah.

RUDY as a librarian :

-You were a young journalist, eager to dive into investigative reporting, but your editor relegated you to the local sports section since you were the new kid on the block.

- It wasn't exactly your passion, but you made the best of it. Your current assignment: write about Rodolfo Parra, a former boxer.

-Avoiding the internet due to its unreliable nature, especially for local stories, you opted for the library.

- As you searched for information on Parra, a man approached.

-"Need a hand?" he offered.

-You glanced at his badge, confirming his name as Rudy.

-"Yeah, I'm digging up info on the boxer Rodolfo Parra. I heard his early days were at the local club, so I figured the archives might have something," you explained.

-Rudy smiled. "Rodolfo Parra, huh?"

-"Yeah, you know him?"

-"You could say that, but I've heard he's not too keen on journalists."

-"Exactly why I couldn't land an interview," you sighed.

-"But why write about him? He retired two years ago," Rudy questioned.

-"My boss wants it, so here I am," you replied with a hint of resignation.

-"I've got some info, but can I trust you?" Rudy hesitated.

-"Absolutely, I'll respect his privacy. I just want to know his story, his struggles. I've heard rumors about a fixed fight where a coach, El Sinombre, forced him to lose," you shared.

-Rudy's expression darkened. "It was more than that. I'm surprised you know about it."

-"I've delved into El Sinombre's dealings before. I wanted to write for investigative reporting," you confessed. "I found it odd that a sports club had ties to a pharmacy."

-"They developed stimulants to win fights, and more... potent substances," Rudy revealed.

-"So Rodolfo lost to a doped-up opponent?" you concluded.

-"Yeah. Rumor has it, El Sinombre threatened his family if he didn't comply. Rodolfo vowed never to lose, so El Sinombre took matters into his own hands..." Rudy trailed off.

-"And Rodolfo ended up paralyzed," you finished solemnly.

-"Yeah, but with rehab, he's probably walking now. But he can't fight anymore," Rudy confirmed.

-"Having your dreams crushed like that must be devastating. A fighter silenced," you mused.

-"Maybe it was for the best," Rudy countered.

-"You think so?" you questioned.

-"Boxing isn't a lifelong career. Maybe retiring was a blessing," he reasoned.

-"I don't know, having your dreams shattered like that... it must take a toll. Imagine if someone burned down your library," you countered.

-"Well, this library was my backup dream, so I'd just have to find another," he quipped.

-You nodded, then realization dawned. "Your backup dream?"

-"Yeah," Rudy admitted. "Rudy for Rodolfo. Not the smartest move for a future investigative journalist, huh?"

-"Hey! You—yeah, I was naïve, but you could've given me a heads-up," you teased back.

-"Now, tell me about your boss. Things might be more complicated than we thought," Rudy suggested.

-"Do you think El Sinombre is after you?" you pondered.

-"We'll find out," he replied cryptically.

-Maybe your beat would evolve over time...

If you want more : my masterlist

I still need to write Alejandro, Lasswell and Farah, maybe in a next part with other characters :) !

[a--butterflys--dream]

Hmmmmmmore vampire boyfriend please-

sorry this took so long to get to !! I'm very sporadic in my writings here :')

but anyway, here's a little NSFW scenario with him that goes deeper into the first time he tastes your blood. GN reader, no anatomy specified.

CW: oral (receiving), blood and blood drinking, period mention, arousal drunk vampire idk.

vampire boyfriend who, when he finally, finally gets to taste you, can't hold back.

he wouldn't dare do anything without your consent, but the moment you make it clear he can do as he likes, he's on you. lapping from the wounds he'd made on your neck, his hands reaching under clothing to touch your bare skin.

"you're....far too alluring for your own good, my dear." he breathes out, his fangs seemingly longer as he feels your reaction to his touches. "i-is that right?" you'd reply meekly, letting out small whimpers as you writhe under his ministrations... his hands soon moved to strip you bare of any clothing, how much your heart was pumping from his doing was driving him mad. nothing could get between him and his darling now, right?

"pesky cloth...always getting in the way." he'd hiss, making his way between your thighs, leaving trails of bite marks as he grew closer to your arousal. "you can't get any more divine, it's.... unbelievable, truly." even if you protested, if it became too much for your body to handle, he's far too deep to stop now.

"let me just...have my fill of you." he chuckled darkly, using his mouth where it belonged, teasing and pleasuring you like no mortal man could. his tongue was quick and touching just the right places, your arteries on either side of his head only egged him on... as did the song of bliss you sang. nobody else was allowed to hear, yes? nobody. "o-oh please, i- h-haah, just.. a little more, I'm so close-" you'd cry, and tug at his hair, and god did he love it when you did that.

your hands tangled in his hair, so desperate for release had him harder than he'd ever been, and once you finally, finally felt the snap of release, he took all he could get. swallowing it all, lapping up anything he was able to take. he'd look up for approval, a silent question of if he was good enough. well... of course he was. how many men can make someone to cum with their mouth alone? but he wouldn't stop there. no, no, of course not. he'd have you writhing, begging, convulsing and screaming his name over and over, until he felt satisfied. "sorry, darling. I just can't get enough, you can give me one more...and I'll let you go." he'd pant, knowing he'd be coaxing more than one more orgasm out of you. he was addicted to the way you sounded, the way you moved, the taste... oh, the taste. god forbid you're on your period, he'd never be leaving from between your thighs.

he was one who enjoyed pleasing you so much that undoubtedly he'd soiled his pants, cumming without even the faintest of touches.

and don't forget about the aftercare!! he'd be running you a bath filled with soothing perfumed oil and bath salts, staying as close as you'd want, neverending praises spewing from his mouth. "you did so, so good for me, darling. I know, I know, you're tired. but I'll take care of you to the end." he'd even cook you a meal and personally feed it to you, anything you'd want, he'd make it happen.

-------------------

AN: and that's that for now, I hope this wasn't too badly written ;-; I haven't done something like this in a while so don't blame me too much...

should I give Vampire BF a name now, since he's become a frequent flyer? I'm open to suggestions if you guys have any.

[sweetchildcloud]

Hii! I saw that your requests were open so here I am :]

I was wondering if you could do something with gojo and geto taking care of their s/o who maybe got badly injured during a mission or smn

feel free to ignore it baby<3

||Don't die|| written by me

🔞 Gojo x reader/Geto x reader| Minors DNI| TRIGGER WARNING 🔞

Tags:Blood,comfort,hospital(Gojo),injuries,bandages,healing,cussing(Geto),

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

P.s:sorry if i made it too angstu but i hope you like it anon!

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

Edit:sorry sweetie I think I got carried away in Geto's part :p

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia

Gojo

You waked up in a hospital room with tubes everywhere. Satoru is sitting next to the bed with his hands clasped on top of his knees. There's a vase full of flowers that probably were sent from friends and family members of you. A ring on his finger. There's no one else in the room. You're alone.

"How are you feeling?" Satoru asks, looking at you with a worried face. His clear blue eyes look like oceans that want to drown you with it's depths. Satoru is gorgeous.

flashes of the battled runned trough your head you hissed "like i almost died…?"

"You were bleeding a lot, you could still be dying. The doctor said you're stable but we have to wait a little more.." He sighs. It seems like he's the one that is going to fall apart from anxiety soon. Satoru doesn't know what he would do without you.

The silence between you two becomes uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry.." His voice breaks a little. Satoru swallows his tears.

"it's fine..you're fine no?" You jolted as you felt a sharp pain were the curse hitted you "it was worth it no?"

Satoru's hands are rubbing gently your forehead to relieve you from your pain. He seems to want to do more but he holds himself back. The hand of your uninjured arm feels so strong, as he holds it to his chest.

"I'm fine, now that you're fine." He sighs with relief because you're smiling a little. But the worry on his face gets worse with your pain.

"You killed the special grade… You're such a badass. Was it worth it?" His voice is lower than usual.

"I.." You swallow. The pain. The blood. The scars. The memory of the mission. He doesn't need to know all of those details. This moment is already painful enough. You bite your lip.

"I don't regret anything."

Satoru seems satisfied. He's still worried. Yet he's smiling. The grip of his hand increases. He wants to hold you to him so bad. He wants to comfort you in so many ways….

"You should rest."

"I'm not tired…" You mumble.

"I know, but you need to…" He answers while playing with your thumb.

His free hand caress your head to bring you comfort. The moment between you is charged with love, intimacy.

"Go to sleep...just for a little while…" He wants to add 'in my arms' But he doesn't. He keeps caressing you, hoping you would fall asleep.

You nod. The drugs given to you make you tired and everything gets blurry, you feel relaxed. Satoru continues caressing your head, holding your hand, playing with your thumb, whispering soothing words, trying to make you rest… You can't resist. It feels so good, so warm… You fall asleep. Satoru's eyes watch you fall asleep quietly, tears falling from his eyes with relief.

He kisses your forehead, closes the blinds of the room. He sighs and finally lays on his chair next to your bed, falling asleep too.

GETO

He's careful with you, as if you're a rare and fragile piece of glass. Each movement is cautious and tender; he adjusts the pillows behind your head, the blankets around you, ensuring that you're comfortable. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes as he mumbles reassurances and gently strokes your hair. He smells of leather and earth, and his body exudes warmth. Your fingers curl in his, and you feel comforted by his presence.

You jolt as a rush of pain radietated from your bandeged wound

Geto's eyes snap open in alarm. He's by your side in an instant, studying the source of your pain. His thumb traces over the bandage covering the wound, his expression filled with concern. He's so close, his breath brushing over your skin. You look up at him, meeting his gaze. He doesn't flinch, and his eyes are full of empathy for the pain you're in.

He's gentle, but firm as he examines your wound, looking for any sign of an infection or worsening status of the injury.

"Let me see it" he says, his voice gentle. You hesitate for a moment, then nod and pull the blanket down, allowing him to examine the injury. You wince once when he probes at the bandaged area, but beyond that, the pressure of his fingers feels soothing rather than painful.

"How's the pain?" he asks after a few moments. His arms wrap tighter around you as he speaks, and you can feel the warmth of his body even through layers of blankets and pillows. "Does it feel better, or do I need to change the dressing?"

"the second…" you mumbled feeling weak a nd you trembled when the blood rushed out staining the bandages

“Don’t move” he says as he stands up, his voice a soft command that you find yourself obeying on impulse. His arms gently release their grip around you, but his fingers trail down your back as he pulls away. He crosses the room to his desk, rifling through a cabinet drawer as he grabs fresh bandages and disinfectant. Once he has everything he needs, he returns to the bed, sitting beside you and carefully removing the old bandages.

"Does it still hurt?" he asks after a time. The pressure on your body is still comforting, and his words are like a comforting presence. You nod again, and he frowns and makes a sound of distress as if he wishes he could do more for you. Without a word, he pulls you closer to himself, and you lean your head into his shoulder without even realizing it.

"Can I ask you something?" he asks. You don't notice the time slipping by as the two of you lie like this, his arm around your waist, his body radiating heat that warms you through. You nod slightly, and he sighs before starting to speak again. "I don't know why I'm so affected by seeing you hurt. I should be used to it, shouldn't I? Seeing people injured is part of my job. But with you…"

"With you it's different," he says. There's a slight rasp to his voice, and he seems to be searching for the words. "Seeing you hurt reminds me that you're not invincible. And I…" His hands tighten around you, and you can feel him squeeze you against him as if he wants to protect you from all the worlds dangers at once.

"I just hate seeing you in pain" he continues. "I know it's silly, but I want you to be safe more than anything. I want you to have a life where you don't have to worry about getting injured or hurt or sick." He pauses for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts. "So… maybe this is me being selfish" he continues "but when you're hurt, I'm reminded of how vulnerable you are and how much it scares me."

"I know that's stupid" he adds quickly. "You're not a child that needs protecting. But I guess I just can't help it. I just…" He trails off, then shakes his head. "Just forget I said anything," he says with a wave of his hand. "It doesn't matter. You just rest up. I'll take care of you until you're better."

"no…i like it when you worry about me" You smiled weakly "it makes you..human…"

He freezes, his eyes narrowing as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. "Human?" he says slowly. "Are you saying that you think I'm normally not human?"

"you feel so cold and scary sometimes that's all but deep deep down you have a heart a beating one"

You chuckle slightly and rest your head back against his chest. "So, what now?" you ask after a minute. He gives a shrug. "Right now? You sleep. You're injured, after all."

"Right." You smile, but the truth is you don't feel very tired. Your body still aches all over, and the dull, throbbing pain from the wound is enough to keep you awake.

Still, you lean into his arms, resting your head against his shoulder. He pulls the blanket a little tighter around you, and you close your eyes, trying to relax.

"You still can't sleep" he observes quietly after a few moments. You blink at him and try to come up with an answer but find yourself coming up blank. "Yeah" you say finally "I guess I just don't think that the pain is going to let me sleep anytime soon."

"What if I give you something for the pain?" he offers. "A small dose. You'd hardly get any rest, but it would help you fall asleep now."

"i don't like needles Ru-ru" You cooed

"No need for needles" he replies, and you notice the slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'll just give you a pill."

His arms loosen around you, and then you feel his hand move around until it finds your chin. His other arm reaches over toward the dresser, and he brings a pill over to you between two fingertips. "Here, open up."

You open your mouth obediently, and he places the pill on your tongue. It tastes slightly bitter, and when he offers you some water to wash it down, you quickly down the whole glass. You sigh and close your eyes, ready to fall asleep. You can hear him shuffling around the room, presumably putting away the supplies he'd used earlier.

When he settles back in the chair beside you, you feel his arm wrap around your waist once again. "I'll be here with you until you fall asleep" he murmurs gently. "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you."

You nod slightly and close your eyes, trying to settle yourself. The pill should be kicking in any moment now. You feel a heavy haziness envelop you, making it almost difficult to keep your eyes open. And yet still, you cling to the warmth that you feel from his arms around you.

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 [𝐋𝐮𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐚]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

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Part 1

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: uncle!Luocha x niece!fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, modern AU, a hint of incest, yandere, some wet fantasies of Luocha.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. 黄龄 - 只有猫知道

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

I'm sorry, i completely forgot to upload the second part to Tumblr, although i wrote it a week ago, ahahahah. Someday i'll stop forgetting that i have a Tumblr, and will upload here all the dozens of works that i have written, but were too lazy to translate it into english XD

He thought you were mature enough to realize who really cared for you. A cruel time separated the two of you, but Luocha knew it would be good for you. Separation breeds longing, and longing spreads the petals of dormant feelings. You missed him, and it would be foolish to hide it, because Luocha could see in your face how much you missed him. Of course, because he was the only one who supported you, the only one who cared about you, and the only one you could depend on. And that is the unchanging truth.

Luocha acted rashly as he continued to chastise himself for impatience, which was uncharacteristic of him. With your departure, you left him in a slight state of confusion, covered with a fleur of inexplicable enthusiasm. He replays in his memories the silhouette of your figure, the velvety softness of your skin, those lovely cheeks powdered with embarrassment, and doesn't understand how everything could end so badly… Luocha is a reserved person, patient and compliant when the situation demands it, and he never planned to act so abruptly with you, now wondering what prompted him to do exactly that? You were too beautiful in your loss and gray apathy, which he skillfully decorated with bright colors with just your presence. It's very pleasant to realize that, like life-giving water and light that make fading flowers bloom, he has awakened the old warmth in your wounded heart. You are indeed like the enchanting white lily flower, pure and innocent, that he tried to defame.

And Luocha has no regrets. His only regret is that he made the first move too early.

You both need a little more time. You should get over the stress, calm down, and then you're bound to come to the conclusion that your beloved uncle simply couldn't have wanted to hurt you. And Luocha needs to tame her demons. It's not time to set them free yet, because then he risks destroying what he has been building so diligently for years. And how lucky that you left him a small gift, thanks to which he holds on for a whole week, so as not to snap and show up at your doorstep.

Luocha can clearly see his long fingers sliding over your skin, squeezing your seductive sides as he makes his way to your breasts. Oh, if you only knew how much effort it took for him to restrain himself from falling into that elastic warm flesh. Luocha wanted so badly to feel your nipples harden on his tongue, wanted to know what your naked breasts would look like when you lay beneath him, wanted to hear what your voice would sound like, relaxed and quiet, soaked in pure pleasure. And only these thoughts keep his insane impulses in check.

It's so exciting to be standing at your door. No, not because Luocha feels guilty, but because he can't wait to see you again. He knows you're home, he's seen your car parked outside, but you take so long to open the door that your uncle gets worried. You couldn't have known he was coming, couldn't have seen him coming up to your house, could you? And if you did, do you still hold a grudge against him?

— I'm coming, coming... — Luocha hears your tired voice outside the door and your slow footsteps after the next bell rings, and all worries seem to melt away in sweet anticipation. He'll see you again.

As soon as your footsteps are hushed and your uncle realizes you've come to the door, an uncomfortable silence hangs. You must have seen him through the peephole, but he doesn't hear the click of the lock or any other sounds. As soon as this door opens, he'll be reunited with you, his beloved niece, whose separation lasted like an eternity, but why are you delay? Should he say something?

— What are you doing here? — you ask quietly, and Luocha hears your hand press against the door on the other side.

— Y/N, I'm sorry. I know I've been acting weird, it won't happen again.

«And I'm not lying to you, Y/N»

— Now everything will be different.

«That's right. Now I'll do everything I can to make you want to reach out to me»

— Open the door, let's talk. I'm worried about you.

«No one else in this world cares more about you than I do»

After a few seconds of stifling silence, Luocha hears you cough and his heart flutters in his chest. Are you sick?

There's a loud click, and the doors slowly swing open in front of the tall blond man. Luocha has prepared much better today than in your last meeting. He wants to erase the line that separates you, so he chose the best suit he had in his wardrobe. The black color contrasts so vividly with the white robe that you are usually used to seeing on him, and a small sweet gift in a bag in his hand should cheer you up and diversify the list of familiar treats that he shared with you after the reception.

— I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting guests, so the house is a bit of a mess, but you can come in if you want, — you open the door, and Luocha’s gaze is instantly drawn to the way you wrap your palms around your shaking shoulders, leaning unnaturally against the doorjamb. Your face looks so exhausted, your hair is disheveled as if you haven't touched a comb in days, and your t-shirt and homemade shorts look untidily rumpled.

— Y/N, are you shivering? — long fingers tighten on the handle of the paper bag while worried green irises run over your tired face.

— It's just a cold, nothing special. Like I said, I just wasn't waiting...

— I'm sorry... — your uncle whispers unintelligibly, and just as you're about to ask what he's apologizing for, Luocha leans forward, suddenly placing her palm on top of your head before bending down and pressing his lips to your forehead.

— W-what are you...!

— You have a fever. How long have you been sick? Have you taken any medicine? We need to get you to bed, — Luocha grips your hands anxiously, reflexively pressing his index and middle fingers against one of your wrists, feeling your rapid pulse.

— I don't… I don't know, a couple of days. I thought it was a cold, so I just slept and…

— Where's your bedroom? — your uncle doesn't even seem to be listening, hurriedly slamming the door and casually leaving the package on the table in the hallway.

It's not exactly what he was hoping for.

✧ ✧ ✧

Luocha involuntarily remembers you when you were very young, when he also helped you cope with a cold, hurrying from work as soon as possible after your mother's call. You've grown up, but you still look charmingly helpless when he puts a pill in your mouth, holding a glass of water to your lips. A small, sweet creature, shivering under the covers. Your uncle's heart is splitting apart at the thought of you feeling bad, but surely you can forgive him this little sin of enjoying the fact that you need him?

— Why didn't you call me?

— I didn't want to bother you about nothing.

«Lie»

— Y/N, whatever happens between us, I'll always be ready to come and help you... I know it's hard to forgive my transgression, but you are my family, and that's always the case. Please don't take on any more burdens that you can't carry alone. You're not alone.

There is some peace in wiping your forehead with a damp towel while you pout guiltily, hiding your lips under a fluffy blanket. Luocha wanted to take the first step towards changing your attitude towards him, but in the end he remains for you only a caring uncle who worries about your health. If it wasn't necessary, he would have hated himself the second he allowed his intentions to falter, but now… now he will allow you to see only your close relative and a doctor in him once again, saving your fragile life.

— Thank you... — you mumble softly into the blanket, guiltily averting your gaze, and Luocha's hand stops hanging over your forehead, and the light green eyes widen, fixing their gaze on your trembling eyelashes. — I'm sorry that I, well… ran away then.

Oh, are you really apologizing to him? He didn't hear it, did he?

— I think we were both out of our minds that day. It's okay, — Luocha smiles softly, tucking the wet towel back into the small bowl of water on your bedside table.

— I always thought you were too kind, — you chuckle wryly, then cough and wrap yourself even tighter in the blanket.

— Is it bad?

— I don't know... I'm not sure I deserve it.

— You deserve all the best in the world, Y/N, — did he really say that out loud? For a moment, Luocha’s heart froze in his chest with a prick of consternation, but another of your laughs made the man relax. — Ahem... Okay, you need to rest.

He really should leave you now. Although your uncle really doesn't want to leave you so soon, you'll hardly be happy if he continues to sit on your bed until you fall asleep. He'd like to see you sleep...

— W-wait! — as soon as Luocha gets up from the edge of your bed, you suddenly take your hand out from under the covers, wrapping it around the man's wrist, forcing him to sit back down. What's gotten into you? Do you want him to stay? Why?

— Do you need something else? — he regains his composure, as does that eternal charming smile on Luocha's lips when he covers your palm with his own. Your hands are so small and so cold. If only he could hold them in his for a little longer, but it will definitely make you uncomfortable...

— Since you've traveled so far to see me, maybe... Will you stay the night?

Oh, are you afraid to be alone? Luocha wanted to offer you the same thing, but it would sound… a little awkward from him. But if you ask him to do it yourself, how can he refuse his sweet niece?

— If you need it, Y/N, of course I'll stay. On my way to the bedroom, I noticed a sofa in your living room, so I'll spend the night on it.

— No! — you squeeze Luocha’s wrist harder, suddenly exclaiming loudly before you cough again, burying your nose in the blanket. — I... Can I ask you to lie down with me?

Your uncle allowed for the possibility that you might miss him, but this… Why are you asking him for something like this after the way he behaved in your last meeting?

«Do you really...»

No, no, your attitude towards him couldn't have changed in a week, it's just impossible. But even if that's the case, he still shouldn't let his guard down. You are so seductively asking him for something like this, probably completely unaware of how he feels after such an innocent request that fell from your lips, but he should keep his cool.

Luocha opens his eyes wide and raises eyebrows, looking at you peeking out from under the warm blanket.

— I'm not sure if that would be a good idea...

— P-please... I'm so cold, — you say pitifully, and Luocha falls silent with his lips open before he closes mouth, slowly running his thumb along the back of your palm.

He'll be able to touch you. He'll be able to hug you. He'll be able to inhale the smell coming from your body, and not the things that you recklessly left in his house. He'll be able to hear you breathing steadily, slowly sinking into sleep.

You're probably not yourself because of the fever. What if in the morning, when the temperature drops, you get mad at him again? Luocha can't take that risk, but he's so damn eager to agree to your tempting offer. He's not a gambler, he's used to sticking to a premeditated strategy, even if it will lead him to the goal only after many years. Luocha was willing to wait as long as it took, but wasn't his goal to make you want him? Doesn't what you're asking him for mean that your attitude towards him has already begun to change?

— Okay. I'll stay with you.

Though Luocha can't see your lips, your eyes tell him much more when you loosen your grip on his wrist, tucking your hand back under the blanket. You're glad. And he's the one who makes you smile again.

Luocha gets out of bed, carefully shrugging off his jacket. His hands reflexively reached for the belt on his trousers, but suddenly only paused for a moment on the buckle before moving to the tie, carefully untying it around the collar of the white shirt.

It's so unusual to get on your bed while you crawl closer to the wall, giving up your place on the next pillow and turning to face him. You've never spent a night together before, although Luocha would be blatantly lying if he said that he never wanted this, especially since the day you returned to him two years later.

You sniffle softly, huddling on your side of the bed as Luocha lifts the covers, settling down next to you before covering you both again now. Ah… your bed smells exactly like that bra he keeps carefully under his pillow. A sweet, alluring scent that envelops his heart with warmth, like this very blanket. Everything here smells of you.

— Luocha, your suit...

— Don't worry, I'll come home before my shift.

— You're leaving in the morning? — you ask in an almost upset voice. Probably, Luocha is already asleep and has the most charming dream of all possible.

— If you want, I can try to take a day off...

— No, no, no! No need, I can handle it on my own.

He didn't answer you. He should probably just close his eyes and try to fall asleep, but how hard is it to do that when Luocha hears your breathing so clearly… But it gets even more difficult when you move closer, pressing your forehead against his collarbones. You're shaking, desperately holding onto your own shoulders, and your uncle only hesitates for a couple of seconds before succumbing to the irresistible urge to hug you. He knows like no one else that the chills will stop tormenting you only when the antipyretic takes effect, but his heart breaks to shreds when he sees you so defenseless and reaching for him.

— Thank you… — this is the last thing Luocha heard before the silence in the room was filled with your charming snuffling, and your body relaxed in his arms, gradually ceasing to tremble.

Luocha is a little ashamed that he was coming to you with the intention of destroying this wall separating you from him, however… Why did he feel it crack so clearly at the moment when you first called him by his name?

— Good night, Y/N.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 25

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 3.5k

IMPORTANT a/n: I am really sorry, you can start the Mari witch hunt now. Chapter 26 is in the editing stage... message me questions. I've had this exact chapter drafted for about a year. I want to hear your thoughts while we enter the third part of this story.

January 1988 Bogota, Colombia

“You do understand that this is a traumatic event?”

Javier ashes his cigarette with a head shake. His bones are aching and tired and he feels old. Like he’s ready to retire at the peak of twenty six. It’s always warm, it’s humid like the day of his false wedding. No one knows his pain but he’s willing to share it. We need therapy, you told him once.

Look at me, I’m trying. 

He doesn’t take the words of his work appointed therapist very seriously but it’s taken him twelve sessions to finally talk about it. The first words other than good afternoon out of Dr. Hertz mouth already frustrates him. It frustrates him more how attracted he is to her. He swears her exact hair color is yours when he left. She sits with a pencil skirt like all the women around the office do. Besides his boss, she’s always in a pantsuit. Skin tan from the Colombian sun, nails always done in a square tip—scribbling in a notebook. That wasn’t like you, the nails. It was rare if you ever had them done, he’d like running his thumb over your nail beds, an odd spot that tickled you. He missed you so badly. 

“The situation hurt her the most.” 

Dr. Hertz fixed herself a frown and a nod, pen to paper a dry sound that ticked him off. “Take it from the top for me please.” 

The night of June 16th 1986

Javier decides to grab his thick work file before  he drives to the hotel he wanted to share with you. Sitting in a chair that has housed many sad men like him, he frowns over the case details of pregnant drug smugglers' corpses and child detainments for gun possession. Ashing into a tray that isn’t his. 

His head hurts and so does his hand, it’s nerves are short circuiting while he holds himself from calling you. He doesn’t want to think about tonight at all. He doesn’t want to continue to be haunted by Lorraine and the swell at her stomach. Avoiding the thought—that it could be—he abandons it. Instead he buries his nose in cigarette smoke and work for the night, he much rather be buried in the crook of your neck. Inside you, beside you, looking at you, holding you, speaking to you– he just wants you here. He hates to waste time and he isn’t sure why he feels a sick instinct that you maybe have less time then he believes. 

He decides to call after his 3rd cigarette. It’s a long shot considering it’s 3 am but he has never been good with self control. He pictures your face as you sleep, he’s watched it despite your pleas to fall asleep alongside you, he likes to watch before he does. You always sleep on your stomach, hands on either side of you like you were tossed in bed, one on his chest and a cheek smushed. You drool, he won’t tell you that but you do. He’s frowning while he dials, you hadn’t told him you loved him back tonight, he wonders what he did wrong. Or if it really just Lorraine. 

“Hello?” Your voice is dry and very much awake. 

“Andrea.” Is all he can itch out his throat, he isn’t even sure why he called you. Maybe just to hear your voice, that's reason enough right? 

“It’s late, baby.”

He thinks maybe he could just hang up now, whatever urge he felt all night had been fulfilled with three simple words in your sweet voice. He closes his eyes fighting an urge to drive back forty minutes to your house. 

“Yeah-yeah I know. Just want to hear you before I sleep.” 

“Well, you're hearing me. I love you.”

He nods, he knows. It’s his religion, those words leaving you.  “Will I be able to see you tomorrow?” 

You hold silence for a beat, an exhale beyond the receiver. “Yes, I want to sleep in your bed this time.”

“Okay.” He says pathetically quick, nodding like you could see just how serious he is about spending time with you. You giggle, and he wonders what changed in the last few hours since he left you in the aftermath of your brother's wedding. Maybe you just missed him too. 

“Okay. Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

He can't help himself, he just can't. 

He says it like a whisper, like it's a secret. 

“¿Sabes que te amo, verdad?”

“I know, I just–" You take a second, like you know what you're going to say will hurt him. He can't tell if you're bracing yourself or giving him time do so as well.

"Sometimes I just miss you when you're around and it's tiring to feel like I’m still fighting to keep you."

Colombia 1988

“I couldn't understand that. When we were together each moment felt like she was slipping away from me. I just didn’t know she could feel the same way. I was a present partner.” He sighs, an itch in his molars. A weird tick he gets when he wants to see your face. “I tried to be.”

Dr. Hertz pressed her lips in a firm smile, “It may seem difficult to assess a situation you are so tied to, do you suppose maybe Andrea felt this way because your relationship was on borrowed time?”

“It wasn’t on borrowed time.”

“Maybe borrowed time isn't the correct phrase, but you began the relationship fully aware that you would leave. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t you agree that-that idea could’ve struck a nerve in the insecurities you said she had in relationships.”

“Is this a therapy session for her or for me?” Javier snaps and he isn’t sure why he takes it there, isn’t sure why he says her name so bitterly like you did anything wrong. Dr. Hertz nods, and scribbles with a crease between her brow. 

“I have never met Andrea, you are my patient. I want to help you recognize a place we could work together to improve.” 

“Alright.” He rolls his jaw for a moment feeling like a scolded child. His eyes flick to the clock. Another half hour left, he wants to head back into his apartment where it’s safe. 

“Alright, was it the next morning that you met with Lorraine?” 

Javier’s nostrils flare, thinking of her makes him feel physically ill. She says her name and sees your face when he tells you. 

“I didn’t meet up with her, I was ambushed.” He shuts his eyes for a moment, the weight of the word feeling useless in this setting. He knows what the word truly means, ambushed, he stood in front of Carillo’s closed casket days after the ambush. “I was caught off guard.” Javier decides to correct himself.

The next morning, June 17th 1986

There is another car in his driveway. A car unfamiliar to him. The sun blares down and he’s already sun tired and he just woke two hours ago. He decides to light a cigarette before stepping up to his front door, still his father holds a no smoking policy in the house. 

He shuts his eyes, eyelids burning orange and he drags in his first breath since last night. He wonders if you’d be free for a drive to the lake. You played into his biggest fantasy a few days ago in your tiny bikini, nose nuzzled in your mound. He’d like to do it again. 

He could hear the main road 3 minutes down the hill, that and the crackling from his burning cigarette. He flicks his wrist to check the time, strange for his father to have guests at any time of day. Javier shrugged it off with a step on the cigarette butt. He’s been burning through them lately, smoking one for only two minutes. He supposes his habit is now an addiction, he’s good at it at least. 

Javier walks up the small steps to his front door to be greeted by his father with a frown. His eyes scan over his father’s body, blocking any view of the inside of the house. His body on autopilot, he hands the car keys to his father like he does every time he comes home. But the air was still and this wasn’t like every time he came home. Javier’s heart dropped to his stomach, a fear that something happened to you. “¿Qué pasó? ¿Quién está aquí?"

“Lorraine and her parents are here.” 

Javier shuts his eyes and takes a step back into the porch. Allowing his father to follow him, shutting the screen door behind them. Javier pinches his nose. 

“I’m not interested in talking to them. Fuck this.” Javier pats his pockets for the keys he had just given away without thinking.

“You can’t leave this time.”

Javier walks into his home. Feeling like he’s attending a principals conference. His pastor–the father of his ex-girlfriend, her mother and her sat on the couch with solemn faces. Javier nods at both parents, adjusting his collar bundled with nerves. Despite feeling betrayed by his own father, he still will never disrespect guests in the home he built. Javier offers his hand to Mr. Smithfield to which he takes because ultimately he is a christian. He presses a kiss to the cheeks of Mrs. Smithfield and Lorraine. It reminds him of the first time he had dinner at their home. He knew the family his whole life because of church but being introduced as their darling girl's boyfriend was one of the most anxiety inducing moments of his adolescence. He remembers them with the same stone cold faces, ready to devour him whole if he had stepped out of line. 

He knew them as powerful people, he knew if he had wronged their daughter he would no longer have any work in town. 

So, Javier was quite the wreck.

“Sorry If i kept you all waiting— I was caught off guard.” Javi sits across from them, all scary looking with intense sad stares. 

Mr. Smithfield nods, “We knew you wouldn’t have shown if you were given a warning.” 

His initial reaction is to rebut, to jump to his feet and tell them they hadn’t had a clue of who he was. It feels like a body shot. Javier hadn’t grown into a full man yet. The comment still triggered the nerve that sends him off on anger infused raves. He thinks of you, and the face you’d make if he did. He realizes that this moment is one he shouldn’t run from, maybe this will be the moment to prove himself to be a better man. For you. It’s wrong but it’s what he thinks. 

If he stays here and listens to whatever berating this family has for him, maybe, just maybe, you’ll be proud of him for hearing them out. 

So Javier clenches his jaw and allows Mr. Smithfield to speak. “We as parents are concerned for our daughter. Javier— you know we trusted you with her and we see clearly that you took care of her. But—you bolted in her most vulnerable moment.”

Javier furrows his brows, looking into the eyes of Lorraine.

 She seems to have been in another room, on another planet. Her icy eyes, the ones he once gazed into with adoration— served him nothing but coldness. He wanted to snap in her face and ask if she was there. Was this a bad dream? He looks to his father once more. Chucho stands at the arm of the couch with his arms crossed. Javier never felt this weak. 

Look at me

At least look at me Lorraine.

He assumes this silence as an olive branch for his explanation. 

He’s unsure of what he needs to explain but he does anyway. 

“Mr… and Mrs.” Javier looks at the both of them, god what scary looking people. “I care for Lorraine, for a long time I loved her but we were too young and too serious. We fell out of love just as fast and— and we stayed together out of convenience for our careers but there were weeks where we didn’t speak to each other. We didn’t have the time or the will to work on it.” 

It was the truth. Last year they reached a point where she’d come in without a word, dropping groceries on the counter, ripping off her scrubs, getting into bed and locking the door. A sign that tonight, Javier must sleep on the couch. He stared at the bubbled ceiling, with his bones aching from his oversized limbs making space in the futon. He stared until his eyes burned and wondered what he was doing with his life just at the ripe age of twenty three. 

Mrs. Smithfield looks like she’s seen red, like, how dare you not love my daughter? Javier is sure if she’d said those words out loud he’d laugh and send them all to hell. But she doesn’t. 

She does not. 

Her chin quivers and her nose twitches. Teeth barred like she’s about to let out a profanity but instead, she begins to cry. 

“But you have time to get my daughter pregnant.”

Colombia 1988

Javier laughs bitterly. As if the sentence didn’t ruin his life. Here he is whining about it to his beautiful therapist. She frowns, shaking her head. Javier wants the session to end already. 

“It was like I died in that living room. The dreams I was just creating stayed there. I was in so much shock I hadn’t even second guessed the accusation.”

She nods with that understanding face of hers, it reminds him a bit of yours.

“It may be important to understand the rest of your story, it may be important to know exactly what you felt after she revealed the news.”

Javier is bothered by the way the doctor says news as if any of it had been truthful. 

Javier lights another, Dr. Hertz scribbles a short one. Javier flicks his eyes up to hers as his cigarette burns. 

“You keepin’ tally?” He asks with a hint of sarcasm.

She doesn’t smile, “Yes. I am. Please continue.”

Javier stares at her for a moment and it reminds him so much of you it makes him sick. He can’t help but obey. 

“Truthfully, I first felt like I regressed. I had been cruising through my life until that moment, losing track of time. I thought… how? I’m just a kid? I felt like I was ten and my dad was sitting me on that same couch to tell me my mom ran off. I was in that same head space. Both times I felt like I was being punished for my actions, both times I felt like an open wound, ”

“You felt like both situations had been karma?”

“Yes. I felt like a human wedge between my father and my mother. My existence had been a bad mark and when she left it was a final message of “look what you’ve done.” Javier’s throat is scratchy and he wishes these things were said to you first but he supposes a professional listener will do. “And I grew up to be so selfish and reckless, reckless with my relationships and with sex. And so abruptly I decided to leave that all behind for Andrea, I started to be safe, caring, a better man. But there I was facing the consequences of my own actions. Look what I have done.”

Look at the mess I made.

Will you still love me? After I have made a mess of all we found sacred? 

She nods with a look in her eyes that feels bright, like she was so proud of him for such an articulate and honest answer. He wasn’t sure why today he was being so honest. 

“Anyway. I was stumbling over my words asking how she knew— which felt like a shitty question to ask in front of her parents but considering the outcome I guess I was onto something.” Javier pulls his cigarette from his lips with a pulled brow, he’s burning through these far too quickly, he’ll be broke in no time. “She told me she was 5 months which tied me back to being her only sexual partner the entire year of 1985 and some of 1986 you know until I moved away. I just went cold while her family ranted.”

He hears them in his head when he looks at Dr. Hertz. He spares her the details, their time is inching towards the finish line. 

“We talked with your father and we know you’re a good young man. We know our daughter was tempted.”

“I don’t see you as a man to abandon his child.”

“Our daughter will not have this child out of wedlock.”

“We are willing to make arrangements swiftly to stifle the talk in our church.”

He sat with his head in his hands.  Ears ringing and he felt so fucking guilty for having such a reaction to his own consequences. For being so broken when he wasn’t the person carrying the child, for the woman across from him. 

And he knows her family well, he knows that their faith and christianity only stretches so far. He knows about Lorraine’s eldest brother who came out as gay and is no longer seen in Laredo. He knows Lorraine despite their fall out, he knows the stress of image that was placed on her at just six years old. He knows, he held her head as she cried while she spoke about their conditional love. It scares him deep in his soul, he knows and it breaks him. That he’d not only ruin her life but his future child’s life if he doesn’t man up.  He knows that the delicate bones in her body move aside for life, a life he had part in creating. He could not–he cannot add to the stress. He sees it in her gaze.

“I know now I was seeing guilt in her eyes. She knew the child wasn’t mine, she took advantage of me. But at the time I saw a girl I had loved, I saw her alone in a room full of people.” Javier leans against the chair. “I was a fucking idiot.”

“You were trying your best.” Dr. Hertz corrects him, “You were deceived, you were young. When you speak of Lorraine you still have room for grace and understanding of her circumstance despite her manipulating you and still, still you give her that grace to be a flawed human . You should apply that to yourself too. “

Javier looks down at his shoes for a moment. His brows pulled tightly together. His chin quivers and he isn’t sure why he feels her words with such intensity. Two weeks ago Javier told Dr. Hertz that the first time he considered therapy was when his ex-girlfriend burst into tears after sex. It was that session she finally pushed to know who Andrea was, Javier spent the bulk of the session smiling. Hertz had been smiling too, last week Javier had been frowning again. He told her about Louisiana. He had beaten himself up repeatedly for the insecurity he placed in your heart, Dr. Hertz hadn’t agreed. She quite unprofessionally called him, an idiot, for being so unkind to himself. “It seems like you were a great person for her, not everyone gets the chance to truly understand their lover.” Javier disagreed, he explained the wedding and how he hadn't felt so detached from you until that moment in the yard.

“That was the last time we were really together as a couple. “

We never really got the chance to be a couple, huh.

Hertz nods, and Javier drops the pregnancy scandal on her like a small footnote in his story. 

ThenwesplitbecausemyexmanipulatedmeintobelievingIwasthefatherofherunbornchild. 

In one fast jumbled mess between cigarette pulls. Dr. Hertz had thrown her hands in the air, earning him a Javier…

Today he tells his story and it hurts bone deep. Today he couldn't escape the trauma he kept in the corner of his mind during the lonely years in Colombia. Javier pulls himself together, pushing his agony aside to lift his chin. Checking the clock. Five minutes. 

“I knew I would have to-I knew I hadn't had a choice. I knew some sort of modern couple co-parenting with step-parents would never fly. They’d send Lorraine and my baby off somewhere I would never find them. I mean, maybe it's different here in Colombia but I’m talking about bible belt American socialites, it was already a travesty to them that a hispanic man got their baby pregnant. I also knew my father would never speak to me again, he gave up everything to be my father. He lost his own wife while he tried to be the best for me, I knew this wouldn't kill her. I knew I wasn't right for her in any way. I caused so much mess in Andrea’s life, this was the only way to leave swiftly and make her hate me. It would be easier that way, if none of this happened she’d be home in Laredo burning for me. I already wasted too much of her life with my antics.” Fuck it, Javier’s cheeks were wet. He had been crying the second he opened his mouth. Rushing to say his peace until next week. 

He knows todays your birthday, but he wanted to keep something for himself. He wants to suffer that alone.

“It would hurt her but it wouldn't kill her. They knew I’d go away to Colombia anyway but at least she’ll be wed. I was set to be married two weeks later.”

[controversial-blorbo-bracket]

Controversial Character Tournament Round 2: Kokichi Ouma from Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony vs Peter Pan from Once Upon A Time

(remember that these characters are fictional and your fellow tumblr users are real. i will block you if you harass others in the notes, please consider sending your unhinged harassment to my inbox instead)

Propaganda under the cut, may contain spoilers:

Kokichi Ouma:

LOVE: - "hes a bitch and that makes a lot of people hate him and a lot of other people love him. no one can decide on his motives and i think thats kind of the point. i like him personally but hes a raging asshole <3" - "Not a single DR fan I've ever met is neutral about Kokichi, he's perfect for this poll. I think he's a clever character with consistent internal logic, and his interactions with the other characters are as compelling as they are hilarious. He looks like a dog squeaky toy, and he plots like Artemis Fowl. He's one of my favorite characters in the series and I love him dearly." - "NOBODY CARES ABOUT THIS BOY'S PSYCHOLOGY AT ALL. HE SACRIFICED HIMSELF AND HIS IMAGE AND MADE EVERYONE HATE HIM AND CONSIDER HIM A MONSTER ON THE SLIGHT CHANCE HE COULD USE HIS LIFE TO HELP EVERYONE ELSE ESCAPE AND SURVIVE AND NOBODY CARES. THEY SHOW HIS BREAKDOWN AND NOBODY BELIEVES HIM. I'M SO TIRED" - "not only is he a danganronpa character (inherently controversial) he is also the antagonist and constantly lying because That's His Whole Deal. people either love him or hate his guts. he's a little piece of shit. i would submit komaeda but i feel like views on him are more positive, generally. sorry i have bad taste in video games" - "he's a horrible little guy trying his best in not very good ways what more could you want" - "I don't know, people say he's badly written because they don't pay attention to his arc beyond the cartoonish facade he very obviously forces, and they don't like him because he caused someone's death which like..fair (he did feel super bad about it though so its fine.) Some people also don't enjoy his wonderful personality and think he's a mean piece of shit, which he is, but it's fine. They're just sensitive." - "I know people don't like him because he's like. a shittier version of Komaeda. But that's what's so GOOD about him. He's a shitty asshole of a person, playing pretend at being a villain because he's desperate!!! I think that's really fun. He's dooming himself and I want him to be okay after everything ends, but he dies so he can't even have that much :(" - "so i saw you got submissions for him. but not enough i need to submit him myself he is my favorite character from anything ever. he is the silly man he is so funny one time (actually, two times if you count one optional interaction) he asked a robot if he had a dick and it's absolutely iconic i love him"

HATE: - "(dangan spoilers ahead if that matters) look ok i didn’t originally feel too strongly about kokichi. i think his character is interestingly written (can’t say well-written bc danganronpa but yaknow) and he adds a lot of charm to v3. i understand why he’s popular- he’s one of the few characters in v3 to have both a personality and plot relevance. but oh my GODDDDD he is not a good person!!!! and i am so SICK of seeing him woobified into ‘ooh little baby he did his best he wasn’t doing anything wrong’ JUST BECAUSE you find out he was trying to end the killing game after he dies doesn’t mean he wasn’t incredibly fucked up throughout the game!!! like he was incredibly manipulative, a bully, encouraged infighting, Literally Orchestrated A Murder And Protected Himself From Danger By Getting The Big Stupid Sweetheart To Do It which caused TWO unnecessary deaths and- oh yeah- tricked everyone into believing he was the mastermind and the world had ended to make them so depressed that they just wouldn’t do anything anymore bc can’t kill someone if you’re rotting away in your room!!! AUGH like he’s a good character but it’s BECAUSE he sucks that he’s interesting. maybe this is just the komaeda fan in me but sometimes!!! the character is cooler when you understand that they’re a bad person. at least komaeda gets an actual redemption arc. kokichi’s just an asshole that the game tries to make you sympathetic for at the very end but he spends the entire game being an asshole so why the hell would i like him??? and then i go in a fandom tag and it’s constant unending ‘kokichi did nothing wrong’ the whole point of his character is that he does EVERYTHING wrong. i truly feel like the dr team was trying to replicate komaeda’s popularity but it was messy and poorly handled bc he’s not even a bad person in an interesting way like komaeda he’s just got trust issues that lead him to be stupid and An Asshole. then again people eat it up so what do i know lmao. i love to hate that little shit i wanna punt him into the goddamn stratosphere. score a field goal with that asshat. this is all lighthearted btw i love to die on small hills" - "WHY DO PEOPLE LIKE HIM OH MY GOOOOOOD HES SUCH A FLAT CHARACTER HES A SODA I LEFT OUT FOR 3 DAYS kokichi oma is easily the WORST written danganronpa character. it has been a while since i was into danganronpa so the details are a bit fuzzy but my rage has NOT subsided. following the success of Easily One Of The At Least Top Three Best Written Danganronpa Characters known as nagito komaeda, kokichi had some shoes to fill. he instead showed up in clown shoes. kokichis whole premise is that you dont know if hes lying or not, him being a huge clown and causing shit for like a good third of the cast. kokichi was a simple character. hes a bitch, he sturs shit up, he eat hot chip and lie, it was FINE. not GREAT, but FINE. and then he died. suddenly— kokichi was from modest beginnings. he was actually a genius who was actually doing all of this to save everyone. he was a martyr. they TRIED to follow up on the success of nagito komaeda, and failed miserably. the guy literally has nazi imagery he didnt need to be complex he just needed to be an asshole and force the plot. for assholes that force the plot with actual good depth, may i interest you in byakuya togami? for guys who lie all the time with actual good depth, may i interest you in sou hiyori the beanie man himself from your turn to die [similar genre]? seriously. you guys could do SO much better. just... get better taste oh my GOD JUST BECAUSE HES A TWINK DOESNT MEAN HES WELL WRITTEN" - "Omg I hate this guy,,, people either baby him & make him a uwu soft boy or a funky clown dude, & both those types of people forget all the things he has done??? even if he "redeemed" himself in the end (which i don't think he did--) that still doesn't negate all of the things he did before??? actions speak louder than words but he could never rely on that bc all the does is lie anyway-- i have some strong opinions about him."

Peter Pan:

LOVE: - "My propaganda is that like. Half of the OUaT fandom is OBSESSED with this guy and the other half write fanfiction about their self-inserts beating the shit out of him. The tumblr sphere might be a bit too biased in favor of love and I doubt he'll make it far but from what I've seen people either adore this guy or want him dead in the streets"

[visualsandvoices]

I think we're in the midst of a new genre of 4th wall breaks, for lack of a better term, where the character isn't actually speaking to the audience, but the writer is.

Marvel, disney shows and remakes...it feels as though the writers are so hyper-aware of the audience, so hyper-cautious of coming across as pleasing and so crystal-clear to the viewer, that it feels disingenuous.

I don't want to watch something that feels like a training video HR told corporate to show in the boardroom -- here's how women prefer to be spoken to, here's how parents can nurture their children, here's how women can learn to be leaders. You're lonely? Here's an example of a dialogue about how to discuss your emotions with a friend -- All to be performed for you in a hastily written skit that illustrates the point only vaguely more engagingly than a basic power point would have.

Listen. my guy. People so rarely say exactly what they are thinking or feeling. Usually we layer our speech with subtext.

Think of Andor, which uses environmental story telling (set design, colour palettes, costume design, lighting) as well as camera work/editing, music, and physical performance to say so much without a word spoken.

Or Wall-E. Literally Wall-E. Very little dialogue, so much story.

And then you watch the new Thor movies and it's just...I'm so sorry to be a party pooper but it's frustrating the way we are hand-held through every emotional beat.

Good dialogue is not on-the-nose all the time.

Same with the second season of Good Omens. Season 1 was riddled with feelings not verbalized but understood, both by characters and the viewers, and season 2 bulldozed that and put it all into dialogue...which was not only pointless bc like we just did all this in season 1 (I don't care if it's a "bridging season" that's such a weird excuse), but it's the perfect example of feeling the angst along side characters vs. being told by the dialogue--the characters themselves telling us--that they are angsty. You know the writing advice "show don't tell"? yeah, this is that. "Say it" without actually saying it.

I just...I don't know how to wrap this up except to say that i'm tired of being excited to watch stuff only to be disappointed by feeling like i'm being introduced to a new Emotional Experience and they wanna make sure I've wrapped my lil noggin around it. You can hit all those same beats, explore all those themes and emotions, but write a good story. That means stop leaning on dialogue so heavily, and if you must use dialogue it can be indirect. Let Michael Sheen do all the facial acting if that's what it takes. Just stop piling every thought you have while writing into dialogue because my god it's so wooden.

Maybe this is to do with the writer's strikes that has gone on, in all fairness. I understand writers are badly paid and are under stupid deadlines, so you gotta spit out what work you can under those conditions. I do get that. But...yeah. Just had to shout this into the void before going to sleep.

[astrophileous]

Important! Please read!

I'm tagging the people who are on the Love Bugs taglist, so if you don't feel like reading through all of this that's fine!

Tag(s): @camilaheroine @crazyunsexycool @whateverrrrrrrrs @wifeyofeveryone @louderfortheback @marvelousgoldroses

Hello everyone, first of all I wanna start by saying I'm sorry for having seemingly disappeared for the past week. I know that I was supposed to be uploading two new parts of Love Bugs on Monday and Thursday, and I've missed both days so far without so much as an explanation. The truth is, I've been logging in and out for days trying to come up with a justified excuse for this delay, but I decided today that I will just tell you the truth of what's really happening.

I'm not doing very good at the moment.

I know this seems like a pathetic excuse, but it's the truth. As some of you know, I'm a full time college student and I've been slammed with school work for the past week. I'm tired all the time. Whenever I have even a little bit of free time, I use it to sleep. Life is just so hectic for me right now that writing Love Bugs has been kinda put in the back burner.

But that's not all the reason why I've been MIA.

A few days ago, someone left me an anonymous ask telling me that I've done a terrible job on the last few parts of Love Bugs.

Now, at first, I was gonna be the bigger person and ignore them altogether. But apparently that one little comment did more damage than I ever thought it could. For the past week, every time I went to revise my drafts for Love Bugs, all I could think about was how badly I needed them to be done perfectly to make sure no one else was gonna have this same thought about the upcoming parts. I kept thinking that what I wrote was lacking something. That it wasn't good enough to be published yet. And as a drastic measure, I ended up uploading nothing at all.

I know it seems silly to be this badly affected by one rude comment when I've gotten nothing but love from everyone else. But I guess this is your daily reminder that words do hurt, and even if they are written on the internet, it doesn't make them hurt less because behind all of these makeshift profiles and avatars are real people with real feelings and emotions.

Today, I finally braced myself to make this post. I thought it was unfair for all of you to not be offered at least an explanation about what's happening. If you're wondering when I will finally upload the next chapter of Love Bugs, then I'm sorry to tell you that I don't know yet. I have one completed part, but as I've explained above, I just keep going back to revise it again and again because I'm just not satisfied with it.

So, there you go. The reason behind my absence. I want to remind all of you too while we're here to please, please, please be kind to all of the fic writers and/or other content creators in your fandom. We're all doing all of this free of charge. So please, if you don't like something we make, scroll past it. Don't be mean. We don't owe you anything. Don't ruin something that's supposed to be fun just because you don't find it as enjoyable as others might.

This is all I'm gonna say for now. Hopefully, I will have gotten my shit together by the time next upload schedule rolls around so that you guys could have the next part of Love Bugs on Monday.

Thank you for reading all the way through of this long-ass rant. Have a great day xx

[harri-etvane]

The Angst sentence starters.

Because I obviously like to torture myself with your brilliant Angst writing and hey, I haven't cried and screamed at things in a while :)

Volena (because why not break my heart)

"I'm so sorry for anything I've done to you."

(If this sparks no inspiration I will also be happy with "Please, speak to me.", "I am just so tired." or "You can't leave me alone.")

(And if you feel super inspired ... all four?!? 🥺👉👈)

(No pressure and no hurry though. I need time to emotionally prepare myself.)

Hey Jam! - thanks for sending these, they were a good exercise for me to stretch my angst muscles. I'm sorry they took so long!

I've written about 300 words for each of them, apart from "I'm so sorry for anything I've done to you." which didn't spark any inspiration in me at the moment. I'll keep it in my WIP doc of doom though, and if anything comes to mind; I'll post!

As there's nearly 900ish words, I'll pop them just below the cut. There's no over-arching narrative (or there could be if you squint at it really hard) and apologies - one of them ended up a bit similar to some bits and pieces I wrote for Early Though the Laurel Grows.

Anyway - I hope you like them; I'm excited to hear your thoughts! If you'd like a continuation of any of them, let me know! xxx

"Please, speak to me."

She's said it hundreds of times, or it feels that way at least, longing more than anything to hear the rough, gravelly cadence of his voice, feel the press of his hand against hers, the scratch of his beard against her cheek - even just the slow opening of his eyes, the familiar dark brown sparked with recognition, affection even.

She'd give anything for that sight - everything, even.

It comes out as a whisper this time, her voice hoarse.

“Please.”

Just the echoing silence instead - her own heartbeat thumping in her ears, so quiet she can almost hear the rush of blood through her veins. His breathing is slow and unsteady, every inhale leaving them both balanced on a precipice until the flimsy, weak exhale in response somehow manages to pull them both back from the edge, an awful, endless waltz. 

She takes his hand in both of hers and lifts it, pressing her lips to his knuckles; trying not to think of how cold his skin is, at odds with the thin sheen of sweat on his brow, the bright red of fever staining his cheeks. Olena shifts her grip a little, holding on as tightly as she dares, his fingers limp in her grasp and without thinking, her fingertips find the cool metal of his wedding ring for the security it has always represented. She realises it is loose suddenly, his fingers thin, and that alone feels like another wound.

His badly-won rest is not entirely peaceful, eyelids flickering; even in unconsciousness, dragged there forcibly by the pneumonia that stalks his weary bones, his face is hollow and wan, the frown on his forehead unmoving. The sickening lurch of helplessness slides into her gut and sits there like an unwelcome friend, an enemy - she cannot take the weight from him even now; so utterly drained and exhausted, unable to find peace.

Despite her pleas, he remains near silent save for every laboured breath, pulled away on a tide she has no hope of following - so she must stay on the shore and wait for him to return.

________

"I am just so tired." 

She’s never heard him sound like this before; flat, dull - listless. He sits beside her, the long shadows in the room throwing his face into darkness as the light changes. The afternoon sun is dreary and faded, dragging the colour from the room, from him. Olena feels, just for a moment, as though she has never been further away from her husband, despite being so close.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

She pulls him towards her until he rests against her side, the weight of him familiar but just this once, it doesn't bring the same ordinary comfort. The dull weight of concern sits firmly in her chest instead as she watches his gaze move back to his desk, to the phone, his laptop, the endless reams of paper, unable to let himself truly set it aside, even just for this moment. She can feel the shadow of his ribs, the knots of his spine beneath the thick, black sweatshirt, more prominent than they were before and the concern sharpens. Gently, she places a hand on his cheek, the grey of his beard soft beneath her fingertips.

“Love?”

He turns to look at her fully then as her hand drops to his chest, his heart fluttering unevenly beneath her palm. It seems to have happened very suddenly - almost without her noticing; he looks old.

“I- oh, Lena. I'm-”

For the first time in such a long while, he struggles for words.

In the end, his voice is quiet.

“I ache.”

She nods silently, suddenly unable to speak, confronted with the painful weight of it all; this shattering glimpse of something so very raw, an unhealed wound that has nestled into the very heart of him. 

“I know.”

________

"You can't leave me alone."

The accusatory plea comes choked through a sob, ripped out of the deepest part of her, laid entirely bare here, in this one, lonely room. She tips her gaze to the ceiling - the ornate plasterwork, the gold - all of it blurred.

“You can't. You promised. You promised me the Carpathian mountains. You said–”

He'd said so many things, over the years, conjured so many ideas of what their life would look like afterward - hoped for something quiet and slow. He'd done it to comfort her, and often, himself - desperate to hold on to a future beyond the pain, beyond just living for each day, grateful for every sunrise and sunset. He'd murmured about their future during slow lunches over his desk and snatched seconds together, tentatively sketching it in broad strokes; fishing, walking, talking - space just to be. He'd talked about growing a garden, watching the seasons change and blossom with the sunlight, planting trees - cultivating something just for the beauty of it. She had listened to his plans, her hand in his and smiled - at his optimism, his determination, the knowledge that he would be by her side, through all things. She knew then that whatever happened, so long as he was with her - everything would be fine.

There had never been any question of them being apart.

Her solitude is shattered by the door swinging open, bringing with it a deeper silence, the familiar tread of combat boots and then a pause. She knows who it is without turning around. She knows why he is here. She feels Maksym behind her, his hand on her shoulder for the briefest moment. If she doesn't turn around, if she doesn't take another step; her world will not change - she will not have to go on, alone.

“Not yet. Maks. Not yet. Just, a little longer.”

“Olena Volodymyrivna.. I'm so sorry. It's time..”

[eric-the-bmo]

Blood and Silicon ep18: Friends of Hunter

[Summary: The chase begins! Leo tries speaking in code to Harrison. Percy and Blake take care of the Hunters.] (sorry if this is all over the place/badly-written i don't feel like reviewing this rip-) @sanguineasylum @kentuckycaverats

The coterie careens out of the parking garage! Percy loses some ground but keeps the hunters in sight; they're going quick. Blake immediately calls Leo on speakerphone and tells him to call Harrison about this- to tell him about the garage, to have the cameras wiped, and to let him know their current location. Blake says to immediately call him back afterwards, and then hangs up. Leo calls Harrison.

["Leo? I wasn't expecting you to call again so soon." "Yes, but I'm pretty sure this counts as an emergency, sir-"]

He informs Harrison that people who really don't like us were following Pauline, and now the coterie is in pursuit. He gives the location of where they left; could H take care of the cameras from the garage? Harrison clarifies that they're in active pursuit, and he seems a bit confused until Leo says one of the two men is named Hunter, and it clicks for Harrison like ah fuck, vampire hunters! He asks if the coterie needs backup, and in the background Leo hears him calling for one of his ghouls ["Kay, come over here please."].

Leo provides their current location as they turn the corner on East St Clara St to continue following the hunters; Pauline manages to keep the rest of them in sight. Blake's phone rings as Leo decides to do a conference call with both him and Harrison.

["Hey, Harry."]

Harrison wants to keep updated on their location as he tries to figure things out from here- he tells Kay to stay on the line as he leaves the room for a moment. Blake fills Kay in on what's going on as the chase continues, adding they didn't know the men were hunters at first, so they had called the cops on them. (Percy runs a red light. His car stays close to the hunters, but not too close; the coterie aims to get them further away from the city. The hunters are going west- which is further from Harrison's territory, and, closer to the Hecata's. They're trying to lose the coterie, but it's difficult with one of their tires losing air from being hit with Blake's knife earlier.)

Harrison returns, and tells Kay to head to the garage to take care of the cameras, and Kay lets Harrison know about the police; their voices fade as the two walk away from the phone for a moment.

The coterie continues to keep up with the hunters, who actually are heading towards a highway- we join them, and are now on their left. Blake gets Percy to get closer to them, and gets ready to pull out his gun to shoot the hunter driving the car. Percy suggest we light their car on fire afterwards (Harrison, still on the phone, tells them to search the car before doing that). Blake hits his mark, and the Hunter's car starts to swerve as they attempt to get off the highway- and then they crash into part of the underpass.

The coterie stops their vehicles, and Leo gives Harrison a location update, meanwhile Blake is all "hey Percy put your gun down, maybe we shouldn't shoot them again," so the Ventrue puts the safety on to potentially use it as a blunt weapon later.

Leo and Pauline start to approach the car, but Blake gets there first- the hunter in the passenger seat is shaking the other, who seems to not be doing well; his side of the car is crushed against the wall, and he's bleeding from near his collarbone. Blake goes to open the door. The hunter tries to reach for his rosary, but Blake pulls his gun out on him with Eyes of The Beast for intimidation and tells him to get out of the car.

Blake tells Leo (who'd been keeping watch) to retrieve the knife he'd thrown into the car, and goes to grapple the hunter out of the car- the second one tells the first to "go be with God," using the name Banks.

Banks reveals he still had the rosary in his hands- and the Coterie is repelled by it, allowing Banks some time to try and get the fuck outta there. He gets a head start, but Blake shoots him and is able to catch up on him. Banks calls him a monster, and Blake is all "wow, pet names already?"| ---

Meanwhile, Percival approaches the other hunter still in the car; The Venture bites his own wrist and forces the man to feed from him, despite the hunter Absolutely Not Wanting That. His wounds slightly heal. Percival asks for his name, and the hunter spits out that his name is Williams. Percy takes off Williams' ski mask- and it turns out Williams it the same priest from our territory [above the table, two of us start yelling].

["Ah- lovely to see you again, Father."] Percy asks if anyone else knows where he is, and Williams looks over at Banks (the guy looks miserable to see his associate's been caught). ---

Now having retrieved Blake's knife, Leo updates Harrison, who tells him to keep one alive. Blake takes off Banks' mask- he's in his mid 20s, with some stubble- before saying it's not personal and knocking him out. ---

Leo listens in to Percy questioning the priest: Father Williams says that this was an unexpected detour, and that others (besides Banks) knows where he had gone; the Father didn't give details to them before leaving, though.

["So, do you have a group of compadres that you do this with?" "I hate you."]

Percy denies Father Williams's request to be killed, since he still has questions for the man, and Leo leans over to murmur that their boss wants to keep one alive. Blake's bringing over Banks's unconscious body.

["How long ago did you die, boy?" Father Williams is looking at Leo.] Leo's all "Hm why do you wanna know," while trying to hide the fact he Doesn't Like this man, and as that's happening Blake begins searching Bank's body- He's disappointed to see the Hunter's shoes aren't his size. ["Hold on-" Leo looks at him. "Were you planning to steal his shoes?" Blake shrugs. "Gotta get new ones somehow." "...What size is he-" "You're all psychopaths," Williams spits out.]

Father Williams asks Blake what he gets up to, in his "my situation Sucks" kind of way, and Blake responds he gets up to all sorts of things- he'll see Williams in hell when he gets there, btw. Leo tells Blake the update to keep one and get out, and Harrison from the phone adds to search the car. As Blake continues to search Banks, he and Percy discuss on which hunter be kept alive, and how to frame this to look like a car crash; should they request a cleanup crew from Harrison, or..?

(A car passes by. Pauline's been keeping watch.)

They go back to discussing which one to keep alive. [Blake turns to Percy. "You ever had a man of god as a pet?"] Williams murmurs a prayer- Percy takes him out of the crashed car, covering his eyes with the ski mask before knocking him out in the back of Blake's jeep.

(Another car goes by, slower this time. Pauline gets nervous about it.)

Leo and Blake search the Hunters' car as Percy gets a rag from the jeep to cover in oil- the younger vampires find some guns, duct tape, zipties, gasoline, a bible, a medkit, camping supplies and flashlights, empty vials, some receipts, and makeshift bombs. Leo hands those over to Blake, who's planted Banks' body in the driver's seat.

Before Pauline heads off, Blake tells her to take the long way around to the garage he had directed to a few days ago- he reassures her it's okay, and to wait for them there.

Percy does a vampire prayer before the coterie sets it on fire from a distance: ["Father, I humbly ask that you take the offering of the blood shed tonight in the spirit that it is intended. Saint Gustav, I offer you my thanks for lending me your strength so that I may continue play the role of the diligent farmer - culling of the wolves in our midst so that our siblings may continue to flourish in the shadow of our darkest nights. May our tantamount enemies luxuriate in as many daylight hours as the Almighty afforded us."]

The car lights up, but luckily the coterie is far away enough that it doesn't send our Beasts into a complete panic, and they drive away with the priest in the back of their car. There's some sirens in the distance. Leo updates Harrison that they've got one (and Blake adds the police are on their way to the crashed car), and Harrison tells them to meet him at a place called Cohesity Inc, 2 floors down, because he'd like some more information on whatever the fuck just happened. (Blake updates Pauline and invites her to join them, if she wants; she agrees.)

Father Williams begins to regain consciousness, but he's not looking good and will probably need medical attention; Leo keeps an eye on him. Blake turns around and asks if the Father has any music preferences, but Williams is quiet, and so Margaritaville is playing on the way to Cohesity Inc- the vibe dissonance is crazy.

Percy gives Williams some more blood- not enough to up the bond, just enough to heal him a bit more. Percy notices Leo looking away and asks if he's alright- the Malk holds his hands together and says he's not a fan of bonding. -------

The coterie arrives at the meetup spot; They park near Harrison in the empty parking garage there, and Blake gives the Baron a recap of what just happened, and Percy adds that there are people who know the priest was out tonight. Harrison opens the trunk of the car so he can ask Father Williams some questions.

[Harrison puts his hand on the top of the trunk and leans over, looking the Father in the eyes. "Hi. You don't know me, and you don't need to. I don't know what's going to happen to you, except for the fact you and I are going to have a nice conversation."] Harrison says it doesn't matter if Williams doesn't want to talk (Percy notices Williams' eye twitches), and then says he wouldn't mind telling Harrison about the friends he mentioned, would he? Why was he here? Where was he planning to go after following Pauline?

Harrison is repeatedly asking these questions; Percy notices that William's heartbeat starts to get erratic, and that this is visibly taking a toll on him; The Ventrue, while largely unbothered by this, comments that Harrison should stop before he pushes the Father past his breaking point with whatever he's doing.

["Oh, they recover. They always do."]

Blake and Leo are visibly creeped out by this whole thing.

Harrison mentions he might have better luck with Williams tomorrow, and the priest manages to swear at him. Harrison laughs- It's a cold laugh, with hints of a businessman and something more sinister, and he closes the trunk. He says he made the right choice giving the territory to the coterie, and the existence of hunters in the area has serious implications- he'll continue to interview Williams after getting him some medical attention. Blake asks if they should temporarily leave San Jose to try and get the hunters off their trail, or to stay in the city. Harrison responds that Pauline should lay low, but the rest of the coterie has just a chance of being followed either way.

He suggests they all meet back up on the 25th to discuss this matter again, but Blake says that won't work, reminding him it's Leo's first Christmas being dead. Harrison's like "oh yeah christmas exists, do you have plans??" and he's got an odd expression; he's doing his best to be genuine. Leo says he plans to visit his family- and if it helps it'll probably be the last time, and Blake's offered to go with him. They can probably be back at around the 26th or 27th.

Harrison's all "Well, it's a free country ig, anyway Leo did you think about the fact you might just lead vampire hunters directly to your family?" and Leo did Not, in fact, consider that, but tbh Harrison doesn't really care what he does as long as they can meet back up in a few days to discuss what he finds out from Williams.

Going back to that (as Pauline finally arrives), Harrison and Blake go over what was found in the car, and the Baron can make further arrangements to deal with all of it while the coterie is at Leo's home city.

Notes/Commentary:

Leo Was in fact speaking in little codes the whole time (friends of hunter, bonfires, taking a friend home, etc) but i didnt want to type all that tbh

Kay my beloved!!!! Leo is IMMEDIATELY concerned about them if anything bad happens to them I'll b so upset

Confirmed by ST that Williams asked Leo that vampire question bc he had a cross necklace!!!

I should mention during all of Leo's relays and requests Harrison was The Most Confused i've ever heard him. amazing

Props to Percy's player for making up an entire prayer?? So cool of them

Items from Banks: rosary beads, bible, vial of some liquid, wallet with no drivers license- no phone, but does have state ID

Receipts in the car?? I should have Leo check those out later.

The ST was all "hold on how long can someone be knocked out for" but i had that info On Hand. Memorized. That's not important at all I just wanted to mention that

Hi. Leo was more anxious than normal w/ Harrison, and I think the whole time in the back of his mind he was like "did i do a good job with this"

Dear God, Harrison. Are you using Dementation or something? Terrifying (ALSO HEY HAVE YOU DONE THIS BEFORE—)

Rare Harrison W?!? In the sense he's letting my son visit his family??

WE'RE HEADED TO CHICAGO BABEY! LETS GO IM SO WORRIED FOR MY SON LMAO HES GONNA GAVE A HORRIBLE TIME THERE

If anything's happened to his family/sister im going to panic even more so than I already do in these sessions. dear god

[asherbominable]

Headcanons Connor, Detroit become humain (female reader)

Hi :D, this is currently my first tumblr post and my first headcanon, please give me some advice, sorry if it's badly written but I'm ADHD I scatter so fast :(

English is not my native language

(I'd try this with a male reader, my tiktok bookmarks are full of this man)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soft ↻ :

He truly loves you, he can't see his life without you by his side.

Connor is always proud of you, in any situation even if you fail.

He'll ask you to marry him as soon as possible so he can have the honor of calling you his fiancée <3.

Hank is your father and best man at the wedding, no doubt about it.

When Connor's too busy with police business, you go to see Nines on purpose to get a reaction out of him. How dare you show up in front of his advanced model in that cute top he loves so much? He's forced to put his work on hold to spend time with you and make sure you don't forget him for his brother <3.

Connor will love you anytime, at home, on a mission, getting dismembered; he'll always be thinking of you.

He's definitely a duck, interested in everything you do or say; you sing a song? He'll ask you to continue so he can hear your voice. Are you doing an activity? He'll find out so he can do it with you <3.

He has a folder on his hard drive dedicated to you.

Connor loves taking baths/showers with you, especially if you ask him to wash you, he'll do it with loving, meticulous attention.

He'll give you the sweetest kisses, especially when you're asleep, and he'll sprinkle your face with tender kisses to soothe you.

Connor knows that loving you isn't part of his program, you make him feel alive.

He can't refuse you anything. Don't you like doing the dishes? He's done it every day, morning, noon, night and midnight included. Are you tired from your day? He carries you wherever you want in his lovely muscular arms <3.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Smut ↻ :

Connor is willing to do and try anything you want.

He's obsessed with your breasts and thighs (especially your thighs).

At first he didn't own any intimate parts and satisfied you with his fingers. If you ask him to go fast, it'll be hard to see them.

Eventually Connor will make a special request to CyberLife just for you <3.

The noisier you are, the more reassured he is. If you cry, he gets emotional, realizing how lucky he is to have you.

His favorite positions are definitely the ones where he can kiss you.

Connor has a file where everything you like in bed and all your reactions are noted, no matter how small.

Ride his face and he sees RA9, he'll be happy to clean it up when you're done with his pretty tongue <3.

N'oublions pas qu'il peut beaucoup analyser avec sa bouche.

Once in the moment, there's no stopping him.

Where you want, when you want, how you want. After all, your pleasure is his.

Connor feels proud of himself, a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction running through him at the end of the experience.

[history-detective]

BlackStar ~Theater Starless translation

Season 1 – Episode 9 (Last Chapter):

Common Chapter 2 - Breakin' it faster

(Lico, Ginsei, Taiga, Maica, Mizuki, MC)

Lico: Ah~ I'm tired, I feel like an idiot. I can't believe I'm doing another team's show.

Lico: Even thought it's only temporary, it's too inefficient to memorise everything.

Ginsei: You really do complain all the time. If that's the case, you won't beat Border.

Lico: Intimidation and that kind of thing is really true to Team K.

Maica: Shut up, Lico. I'm tired of you saying that.

Maica: Sorry, MC, give me some water.

MC: Sure, here you go. Are you okay?

Maica: Thank you...I....I'm tired.......

Taiga: Ah, I'm going to take a break, I'm tired. Let's go.

Ginsei: Hey Taiga, do you play with your phone right after you take a break? Normally.

Taiga: Ah-, I'm charging from my phone. When I touch it, my stamina returns.

Ginsei: Don't say anything ridiculous.

Taiga: Soz. I'm looking forward to the continuation [of the game].-

Ginsei: Is it a social game during the lesson?

Mizuki: Are you this crazy? What's with that?

Maica: Can you please not share your excitement? Why is it that you move around like an idiot?

Lico: Maica doesn't have much physical strength. It matches how you look.

Ginsei: Don't say that kind of thing.

Mizuki: Hey, let's do it now. How long will we take a break?

Taiga: I'm going to talk a little. It's a little bad.

Maica: I also want to rest a little more. I'm tired of singing.

Mizuki: So, I'm doing it alone.

MC: Looks like fun, Mizuki. You can't seem to stop.

Lico: Seriously, Mizuki is too excited. Do you really want to do a W show that badly?

Ginsei: When in P, he kept saying he wanted to transfer.

Ginsei: When we were together in Team P, we would go wild at least once a week.

Lico: Huh~ is that so? But, I understand.

Lico: Also, Mizuki is really funny as Romeo. Isn't Romeo supposed to be popular with girls?

Taiga: Romeo doesn't have a lot of momentum. If it were me, I'd be sorry-.

Maica: Wait, Taiga, you touch your phone too much. As expected it's a bit overwhelming.

Taiga: Ah, soz, just a little more.

Ginsei: I can't let Rico play Romeo. When you were in Team K, you ran out of stamina.

Lico: How annoying. I was hoping you wouldn't bring up my time with Team K.

Lico: To be honest, it's already a dark history for me. Because there wasn't a time like that.

Lico: Even if you are an experienced person, it's okay to be a veteran.

Lico: You're the only person who knows it's not your first time performing this program, right? It's because we're starting from scratch.

Ginsei: It doesn't matter what I did before. This time the members and the singers are completely different.

Maica: Too bad, it wasn't Akira singing.

Lico: Haha, Ginsei is seriously lacking in delicacy.

Lico: Hey, Birdie, which one is better, a beautiful guy who gets off easily or a handsome guy who makes gaffes?

MC: (I can't answer that...!)

Mizuki: Seriously, you morons, how long have you been standing there?

Mizuki: Come quickly, I'll beat the hell out of you.

Taiga: I'm always here.

Lico: Wait, what? I was waiting for you?

Taiga: Ah~ that may be right. Sorry, soz.

Taiga: But the trap has already worked fine.

**Taiga walks off**

Ginsei: So please refrain from playing games during lessons.

MC: (I'm so nervous...)

To be continued....

I apologise for the delay in the chapter, I was not in the country and had no computer :(

DISCLAIMER – This is not an accurate translation! Please do not steal. Please let me know of any corrections and what I translated wrong- I may have just written what I think works best, but if you think otherwise, let me know. :)

[cf56]

My thoughts on episode 10

SPOILERS for season 3, episode 10 of the Animaniacs reboot

So that's great. I took two hours to write this entire review, and then with one press of control + Z, it was completely gone. Great site Tumblr. Really works as intended.

I was in a better mood, but having to rewrite this ENTIRE thing sucks so badly. I try to give my genuine thoughts as I go, and it's impossible to replicate that on the second try. I want to scream. Why can't this week just go right?

So now you're getting a negative opening for what was a super positive review. I seriously want to punch a wall. A website meant for long posts doesn't have an editor designed for them. That's just great.

I can't rewrite that whole thing. Just have a collection of screenshots and some jumbled thoughts.

I'm sorry for Pinky and the Brain fans that their final showing was so short. I didn't like Brain talking about the "endlessly repetitive formulaic rebooted franchise that relies on just a handful of tired characters." You can say it's the writers taking a shot at themselves, but it really isn't. It's not their show. They didn't create the characters. Combined with the ending, it just feels a little disrespectful to the people who put their heart and soul into creating this show in the first place, and to the fans who genuinely love these characters.

Look at them being silly!

I can't gush enough about the song. Such cute animation, such powerful music!

I teared up while listening to it this time. I'll probably do the same on every future watch.

I liked that Wakko was right about everything and had the idea that saved the day. The Warners literally saved the world and they'll still be treated like garbage by everyone around them.

The Joe segment was funny, especially the zoom out at the end. I liked hearing "Waltzing Matilda" in the background.

Dot was so cute wanting to go on the teacups, just being infatuated with the idea of spinning around in a little teacup!

This segment is the epitome of "this is my life now."

Poor Wakko has the worst luck. The SAME CLOWN just happened to be at this carnival? At least we know he got down from Mars.

I thought it was weird to have two cataclysmic endings for the reboot six minutes apart from each other. Although they say this sketch was written for season 1, I find it really hard to believe that this wasn't originally meant to end the season/reboot, especially with Dot's quip at the end. I'm not sure I would want this to be the ending, though. It would have sucked if the Warners were the ones who explicitly ended their universe and killed everyone inside. That would have proven everyone right about their destructive nature all along.

I thought this was a refreshing segment. Slappy sounded and looked great. Like I expected, it was short and there was no Skippy, but I'm happy it exists. I was surprised and happy to see that they got Sherri Stoner to return for work on the reboot.

I liked how Everyday Safety was just a never-ending cascade of total nonsense.

The Council is not pleased.

I thought Wakko's bottle song was catchy. I liked that it actually sounded like Wakko blowing. I wonder if they got Jess to do that for real in the studio?

And the ending. I wrote four paragraphs about it, and it sucks so bad because I thought I made my points quite well. Let me try again.

I understand the metaphor with the abrupt and sudden ending. I know the asteroid is meant to represent Hulu. I just don't think they should have pushed their bitter disappointment with the show ending directly onto us. They should have thought it through a lot better.

If they were going to go doom and gloom, which they shouldn't have, they should've at least given the ending some emotional weight. How am I supposed to feel anything when the characters themselves don't show any reaction to their unexpected, oncoming violent deaths? I'm not saying it should have been super depressing with crying and begging. They just should have given a genuine reaction instead of doing business as usual. The closest set of siblings in the world is about to go out in a fiery blaze, and they're not even touching each other. They're just standing near each other awkwardly. Have them embrace and accept their death with a positive remark about how it was all worth it. That would at least give some closure.

What they should have done, if I could rewrite it from scratch, is give us a satisfying, happy ending. Show the Warners finally earning their freedom from the tower after 90 years. Maybe have them gaze at the sunset together, mirroring how the sun rose at the very beginning of the reboot. Even if they didn't have time to animate new scenery for something like that, anything would have been better for this. This ending just feels empty. It lacks any emotion besides pure shock and it feels like an F you to everyone who cares about the show. The creators might have intended that F you to feel like it was coming from Hulu, but Hulu didn't write this scene. The reboot writers did, and they had the power to leave us with something better. This could be the last Animaniacs we ever see.

I'm at least happy they attempted an ending. The original didn't have one at all. It just sucks that Animaniacs had to end unexpectedly and unsatisfyingly both times it's been suddenly cancelled. The reboot was supposed to fix that.

This was perhaps the most entertaining episode of the season for me. It has one of the greatest Animaniacs songs ever, maybe the best song of the season, I'm still not sure. I still love The Island of Dr. Warneau a lot, so I'm giving this episode a solid second place in my final ranking for the season.

Episode 6

Episode 10

Episode 3

Episode 9

Episode 7

Episode 4

Episode 2

Episode 1

Episode 5

Episode 8

That means that the majority of episodes this season are episodes I would consider really good. The top 4 are all episodes I would consider really great. I'll give my thoughts on the season as a whole in my collective season 3 review, but I'll need a few more days before I start writing that. I need some time to collect myself and reflect.

I'm sorry for how this review turned out. The first version felt a lot more positive, because in this attempt I just wanted to express my more well-developed thoughts, which happened to be criticisms. I liked this episode a lot. I just so desperately wish I hadn't lost that first version. It only adds to the most heavily conflicting mix of emotions I've ever felt in one week. I was feeling good, and now I'm knocked down again. I'm sorry to be the one putting so much negativity into the fandom. I want this to be a positive place for all. If I wasn't able to express my emotions here, though, I wouldn't be able to deal with them at all. So thanks to those that have been listening.

I encourage you to add to the discussion of this episode if you want. If you're from the future, please don't say anything about any of the episodes that come after this ;)

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[inkforhumanhands]

⭐️ For Tethered pretty pretty please

Tethered was one of the rare fics that I wrote uninterrupted by other WIPs, as you can see in this handy graph which would usually be multi-colored for different fics:

I'm not super crazy about soulmate AUs (the only one I've written before was mostly so I could make the joke that Elektra looked for Matt's soulmark up his butt because he didn't have one- sorry I have a bad sense of humor), so I really wasn't sure what to do when I got the prompt for this one. I even went searching tumblr for different soulmate conceits because I really didn't have anything in mind, and I found one about soulmates being able to feel when their person is in danger. I thought, "Oh how perfect for Matt and Foggy, let's do it!" and then I did it lmao.

Then from there I listed out the times in season 1 that Matt would have been in danger and tried to figure out generally where Foggy would have been at the time, so plot-wise it pretty much just fell into place. The only thing left to decide was how the reveal would go, and again, guided by my awful sense of humor, I thought it would be really funny if Matt offered to let Foggy punch him in the face since he wanted to punch Daredevil so badly. I also went the less angsty route as far as the reveal because I don't like repeating canon if I can help it and also I am tired haha

I guess the moral of this story is that I am usually led by the guiding principle of "wouldn't it be funny if...?"

[milfzatannaz]

Hey it's me! The one that said about how zatanna can be more ''wrong'' in her relationship with john and how fans forget about it and just blame our british man. I will communicate with this ''🐇'' emoji, so you know it's me.

well my question is this: As I think Zatara is not the best father in the world

starting with the fact that he is highly overprotective and that ends up being something controlling. He always wanted to control Zee's life. I recently found out that after the ''death'' of his wife and the deaths of his Wayne's friends, Zatara became an alcoholic and please, I'm pretty sure he silently blamed Zatanna for it all. He had no one else and she was the only one he could take his anger out on.

second point: the way with in JLD 2018 he did the worst with Constantine. The guy literally pulled john out of the asylum, a broken and mentally stable john who had just been through trauma. zatara decided it would be a great idea to take this kid and put him through some of his magical shit he didn't want to get his hands dirty. He lied and manipulated his daughter and still made john never able to tell anything

third point: Zatara has already erased zee's memories and his trauma with puppets, which I think is wrong since she grew up with this fear and didn't know the reason for it, and I'm pretty sure he has erased her memory other times . In addition to him manipulating zee, because she ALWAYS defends her father, even when he is a fuck and is highly wrong. she was a dumb brat when she cursed at john and said horrible things to him in JLD #13 2018. All this to defend her goddamn dad.

maybe that's why Nick Necro wanted to kill Zatara so badly in the new 52

I don't agree with a lot of Zatara's actions, but I understand that he was protecting his daughter in a horrible way, it's difficult. I like their relationship, but I hate how Zatanna is dependent on her father and can't get over his death. All screenwriters always press on this same topic and it has already become something boring.

good, that's it! sorry to talk so much and my english is terrible, most of it is from the translator, the dangers of being brazilian. Anyway, I really admire everything you do and talk about johnzee and the vertigo universe in general, I'm with you in this fandom of 5 people!

hiya it's nice to hear from u again! I love receiving meta in my inbox!

and yeah you raise a lot of good points about Zatara, esp the 2018 reboot. I suspect that sideplot was written to heighten conflict between John and Zee- writers never make them overtly romantic, and for the JLD plot to move forward I feel like they need to have something keeping them at odds. Otherwise there's less of a justification of why DC hasn't fully developed them in 30 years.

also, aside from team comics, I think Zatara is often written this way to add some life to a rather flat character. He hasn't been anything but Zee's dead dad since 1986. The mourning daughter schtick is a tad tired, so this effort to make him posthumously more morally grey is probably just to add some spice. but it often backfires, bc Zee still glorifies him and has never done anything but miss him on panel, despite the mind-wiping and manipulation. So they keep introducing these plot points that should have a lot of emotional weight, but aren't developed.

that's honestly my problem with JLD '18 as a whole. visually cohesive with enough vertigo lore to make it go somewhere, its main problem is its own lack of commitment. All these things happened to both john and zee, and their individual characters and their relationship has not progressed at all. Zatara died for John, who himself had just been cradled in zee's arms, and it's never mentioned again. Zee kept secrets from him and there was no payoff. idk you can try and make a ~spooky~ comic but if there's no emotional development it all falls a tad flat.

[krunchymunchy]

I'd tap on the keyboard, entering my password. "Greetings, Lieutenant Grey." the terminal had written on the monitor, now having access to the logs. I'd continue to tap while accessing the logs, specifically the 911 calls from day zero, AUG 16, 2040 I'd hover the mouse over to the logs and clicked on the MP3 of CALL 987888109-1, I'd click play. "Dallas 9-1-1, do you require Police, Fire, or Medical?" "I need an officer, please. Some guy is just running in the street, he looks like he hasn't seen the sun in fuckin' years; Probably on drugs" "What's the location of your emergency, sir?" "It's at South Harword Street, nearest cross-street is Corinth." "Alright, remain on the line as I dispatch an officer to your area." "Alri- Hey hey what the fuck? He just ran into a fucking car!" Muffled screaming could be heard, all I could make out is "If he good, bro?" "Sir, do you need medical as well?" "I think so becau- Holy fucking shit he's eating him!" "Sorry sir could you repeat that? You said he's eating him?" "Yeah! He just ripped into the drivers fucking throat! Holy fucking shit should I do something?!" "Remain calm sir, back up from the situation and wait until police respond." "Dude he's getting up, he has so much fucking blood on him! How is he even alive? He should be injured badly from that crash, he was going at least forty!" "Sir Please just keep yourself away from the scene until police arrive." "I think I hear the sirens now, but- Hey hey dude back the fuck up! I said back up!" "Sir are you alright?" "He's walking towards me like some fucking lunatic! Hey dude fuck off! I have the cops on the line, they're gonna fucking shoot you if you continue to come at me!" "Sir police response is less than a minute away" "Good bec- AAAHH" the phone fell, the only thing you could hear was the tearing of flesh and screaming. "Sir are you okay? Officers should be on scene now. Can you hear me?" The call abruptly ended, shortly after you could hear tires screeching and shouting, probably from the officers. I moved the mouse and closed the file, sighing to myself as I put my fingers on the bridge of my nose. I wiped my face as I looked around, obviously no one was here, it's been two weeks since that call. I scrolled through the files of call logs, tens of thousands of calls just from that day, and that only ended because the phone lines went down shortly went out after a few hours later. I sat back up and stretched, feeling my back pop as I sighed; I'm really too old for this fucking shit, I thought to myself. I grabbed my shotgun and went into the armory, I grabbed my key and opened it, shockingly no one had entered since day one, and all the gear was still there. I grabbed a couple boxes of shells and left, leaving the armory unlocked for some poor soul to wander into and find himself a huge pay day. Not like I was going to need it anyway, the only reason I came down here was to get enough ammo for my judgement day; At least that's what I've heard other people call it. I loaded the shells into the drum mag and loaded it in. Found this AA12 in some poor dead bastards car awhile back, so I figured if he ain't using it, I might as well use it. I grabbed the keys to the stations cars and pressed the unlock button, finding which car it unlocked. I found it and tossed my shotgun to the passenger seat, starting the engine. Surprisingly, this cars gas hasn't been syphoned yet, so lucky me I guess. I turned on the radio, hoping someone would answer- but no one did. I radioed just for my amusement "This is Lieutenant Grey, unit 1662, final 10-8, 41. Going code 3 to unknown. For anyone still out there, may God bless you and I send my final goodbyes and prayers for your survival." I hung up the radio as I turned on my lights and sirens. I drove out of the parking lot and into the road, back to that call I first responded to.