#i'm still so pissed off about it and it's been like five hours lol

[hauntedwoman]

giant fuck you to my coworker (NOT my manager) that called me this morning berating me for forgetting to take out the trash last night like i told you i forgot and i apologized and yet you're going to tell me that i'm not good at my job and talk down to me because i made a mistake. eat shit.

[whitelotusherald]

I said I may or may not write my opinion about Blue Eye Samurai and guess who finished the first season and felt like sharing some stupid thoughts! (Gonna use they/them pronouns for Mizu - I think the creators' been using she/her but they just have that vibe, sorry.)

First of all, I'm NOT gonna praise it and say this is the best animated series I've ever seen in the samurai genre - this show is at most an okay copy/retelling of the classic Japanese revenge stories, however, it is still captivating.

For me, it felt like a mixture of two of my fav stories, namely Kaze Hikaru and Bakumatsu Kikansetsu. Mizu is pretty much like Kaze Hikaru's Sei (though a hundred times stronger and a million times more bloodthirsty with just an ounce of mercy) with a though start in life thanks to links to the Western world, losing family and wanting revenge so much that both of them end up leading the life of a man, often encountering how much better they are off in this role. On the other hand the whole show's vibe and Mizu's design remind me of Bakumatsu Kikansetsu's more serious tones and its hero, Akizuki - mysterious dude with unconventional clothing, blue eyes, a badass special sword, with the occasional rampage. Maybe my nostalgia towards both stories made me watch this one within a day.

The mix of Japanese and American storytelling was fun, although I must say that the baddies lacking complexity whatsoever made me itch sometimes. (Except for one dude, who really managed to fool me for so long.) Fowler is plain and boring, the most typical big brute Western guy they could depict, though it's fun to think this was an intentional copying of similar anime archetypes of Western characters. Taigen felt like a cheap imitation of Zuko being honor-bound but getting his ass constantly kicked, but who, by the end of the day, seemed to learn nothing. Ringo was fun and proved to be a million times useful indeed, though he just went and followed his heart in the twenty-fourth hour instead of his common sense, not helping those who would've needed it after all (though in the end it seemed like his help was not even needed lol).

Ah yes, this was my big problem with the show. Sometimes people just went to do stuff that... resulted in nothing. Like. Okay, go, warn people of imminent danger but what is the use when they can just...spot the danger like five minutes later without the warning and those minutes make zero difference? Ringo almost abandoned Mizu several times just to go after them eventually, for what?

But the series also offered some very clever ideas. For example, I truly thought that "oh my god are we going to get a two floors/episode fight or what? getting to Fowler will be like a stupid video game" just to have some pleasant surprise instead. Mizu's weapon... I'm not gonna go into that because I'm so in love with it! The red-light district and Madame Kaji and her girls were also A+ content.

This is again, something the show handled tastefully. Since anime can't show nudity without censorship (I think that law still exists?), I don't think there's any show, hentai or not where they could've got away with these sex scenes, but in an American animation on Netflix? No problem. I'm really not a fan of hentai or this type of mature content (I'd choose the most disgusting gore over it any time) but didn't bother me that we had a sex scene in every episode. (Maybe except in the last one.)

As for Mizu. Their whole aesthetics is so badass. You cannot not fall in love with them, ruthlessness or not. I know their whole character is built upon the fact that women couldn't get their revenge in the shogunate's era thanks to the strict patriarchy, and really, the most a women could achieve was rather Akemi's path. However, there are a few instances where it's not that easy to decide whether they are just pissed to be looked down upon as a woman, want to keep their secret, or there's more than that. They might be considered an unconventional woman who could never be satisfied with the traditional roles of women. One, who is forced to take on the role of a boy and does not know how to forget that when they can return to their womanhood. But that womanhood also feels forced. As if they're just simply outside of this whole shit that dudes are honorable samurai (or artisans / farmers / merchants), women are cooking and raising kids. That's part of the reason why I loved the idea that their sword is actually multifunctional and can be used as a naginata. Naginata became the weapon of women in the Edo era, so even though we're not there yet, it seems to have more feminine connotations than a katana. This double-shape of their weapon seems to reflect their soul. This is further emphasized by their outcast half-breed status, which, again, means they're not entirely one, not entirely the other.

Anyway.

Go watch the show.

It's worth it. Mizu is like some cockroach that refuses to die and kills at least a hundred people and just wants to be left alone to kill their enemies.

Please, watch it, otherwise we may never get to know how the fuck will white dudes die by the hands of a lowly half-breed who has the most crazy and determined eyes you've ever seen.

[goose-duck]

Can you make a Adam x Jonah fanfic where Jonah gets sick? If you feel comfortable with writing vomit can you add that, its okay if not.

I'll do my best 👍

It's been a good minute since I've written for these guys lol

I'm sorry it's not very long 😔 the family did nothing but interrupt me while I was writing so my thoughts were constantly thrown into the adhd void

~~~~~~

Adam was driving the B.P.S van today, for some reason Jonah wouldn't do it. A few hours ago he'd demanded Adam drive and sat in the passenger seat staring out the front window looking a bit red. Adam told him off for it initially, but it's a long drive to their next destination so he eventually gave up the berating.

Jonah couldn't sit still, his whole body felt like it was on fire and freezing at the same time, he felt nauseated and pissed off, he just wanted to lay down and rest but Adam said no. Jonah sits in the passenger seat, squirming around, trying to get himself comfortable, this does nothing but piss Adam off as Adam hates the sound of fabric scraping against fabric. Jonah can feel the irritation radiating from Adam and feels bad, however he doesn't have the energy to even really apologize for bothering his friend.

Adam continues to drive, his driving slowly getting sloppier and sloppier and he gets more annoyed with Jonah's endless squirming, eventually he can't take it any more and pulls over to the side of the highway.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Adam demands, anger dripping from every word.

Jonah looks over at him, he's too out of it for this. He does his best to give Adam a reassuring smile that he's fine and he'll stop but what he gives Adam instead just makes Adam think Jonah smoked a bit too much.

Adam sighs and rests his forehead against the wheel, "Jonah, buddy... you smoke a little too much? We can stop at the next gas station and you can rest for a bit in the back..."

Jonah can only provide and awkward stare as he didn't understand a word that came out of Adam's mouth. He hadn't smoked recently, he's just sick, unfortunatly he's not in a place to communicate that with Adam. Adam just groans loudly before pulling back onto the highway, looking out for the next place he can stop for a while so Jonah can deal with whatever this is.

After about 20 minutes of driving on a highway that feels like it has no end Jonah taps Adam's shoulder. Adam annoyed, yet a bit more understanding that Jonah doesn't feel well reacts calmer than usual. "What, Jonah?" Jonah point at his mouth, he looks like he's about five seconds away from puking his guts up. Adam finally outwardly expresses his concern as he doesn't want vomit in his van but also sees Jonah could be in worse shape than he'd anticipated.

Adam quickly pulls over again and yells at Jonah to not puke in the van. Jonah nods as he quickly throws the door open and vomiting in the grass. His body feels weak after emptying what little contents were contained in his stomach, he's dizzy and unsure he can support his own body. Adan sees this, grabbing Jonah before he falls out of the car face first into his own breakfast.

"I got ya, buddy..." Adam tries to comfort Jonah a bit as he grabs him by the back of his sweater and pulls him back in the van.

Jonah responds with a weak nod and a tired, "thank you." Resting back in the passenger seat and breathing a little heavy. Jonah closes the door, not enjoying the smell of his half digested food outside.

Adam sighs, trying to be nice with Jonah for once in his life, "Alright... what was that?" He asks in the most politely worried way he can muster up, some real worry seeping into his vaguely irritated tone.

Jonah mumbles out a small, "Sorry..." in response, causing Adam to sigh and and put a comforting hand on his best friend's shoulder, "try again." Adam wants a real response, not an apology for something out of anyone's control. Jonah's lip trembles a bit from the weakness his body is expirencing and the slight pain in his joints, "I'm sick... I've been sick all day... I didn't smoke too much... I'm just... sick." Jonah finally confesses, earning a glare from Adam. "And you didn't tell me, why?" Adam sneers out. Jonah gives him a look, silently saying 'this is why' when he hears Adam's aditude.

Adam understands immediately and squeezes Jonah's shoulder a bit, a mumbled sorry being audible under his breath as he pulls the key out of the ignition.

"Let's rest, okay?" Adam quietly tells Jonah, still gently rubbing his shoulder with his thumb. Jonah gives a soft nod before climbing into the back of their van where a small mattress is. Adam soon following.

Jonah lays down, Adam sitting nearby watching as he pulls a blanket over himself. Adam decides to at least try to be a bit helpful and starts gently running his fingers through Jonah's slightly tangled and mess hair. Jonah won't say it, but he deeply appreciates moments like this where Adam is doing his best to be nice to him.

After a while Jonah starts to fall asleep and Adam begins to feel tired. Normally Adam would face away from Jonah while he sleeps but today is different, today Jonah isn't feeling well and Adam's been a bit of an ass to him.

Adam lays down quietly behind Jonah, putting an arm around his torso and resting his forehead against the back of Jonah's hot neck. Jonah lets out a soft satisfied sound and he relaxes in Adam's hold, enjoying the cold of Adams body again his hot one. Adam isnt always affectionate like this so Jonah drinks in every moment of it, enjoying every gentle touch and attempt at comfort as he falls asleep.

After Adam is sure Jonah is asleep he presses a gentle kiss to the back of his neck and whispers a goodnight to the already sleeping man at this mid-afternoon hour. Adam allows himself to relax and join Adam in his peaceful sleep, his body cuddled up with Jonah's as they both breathe softly and rest peacefully.

[theladyofdeath]

could you maybe do a holiday prompt which involves someone getting drunk at the holiday party lol

Ship: Rowaelin // Rowan x Aelin A/N: Ugh, I just adore it when someone gets awkwardly drunk. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the prompt! x T/W: Drunkenness, language

Rowan hated Christmas music.

White Christmas had been playing for what felt like forever. It was not a party song, not in the slightest; and yet, here it was...playing at a party. It made the night he had been dreading drag on even longer.

He felt like he'd been there for at least an hour.

It had only been ten minutes.

Although not his dream job by any means, Rowan didn't hate his job. He went in every morning, got his shit done, and went home in peace. The majority of his coworkers, however, were not who he considered people that he would be hanging out with outside of the office. Most of them were over thirty years his senior, and most of the others thought they were hot shit considering they made almost triple digits a year.

There was only one face he was excited to see on the daily, but she had yet to arrive.

The hotel that was hosting their annual company Christmas party was beautiful. It was old, one of the oldest buildings in Orynth and had been revamped just enough to keep it thriving. The original copper ceilings still hung above him and a crystal chandelier glittered in the strung Christmas lights. The room they were currently in had surely once been one of the many ballrooms, but it had been transformed into a restaurant with a dance floor.

Rowan sat at the bar.

Alone.

Glancing down at his half-empty glass, Rowan thought of everywhere else he could be. He could be at Lorcan's, also getting drunk but at least getting drunk with someone he liked....and downing drinks that were cheaper than ten dollars a glass. He could also be with Fenrys, or Vaughan, or Gavriel, or Connall, or at home by himself, enjoying the silence and doing whatever the hell he wanted.

Maybe it was the fact that the party was mandatory. Maybe that's what pissed him off. If he had the option to come, he probably would have come anyway, but at least he'd have the freedom to do so.

Damn, where was she?

Rowan finished his drink and ordered another. By the time an hour had actually passed, Rowan had a line of empty glasses in his past and his toes were feeling funny. Light. Tingly.

This time when he ordered another one, the bartender paused. "You're not driving home, right?"

Rowan snorted - a snort that he felt went on a little too long. "I- I live in the city. Of course I'm not driving."

It was obvious.

No one drove in the city. Rowan did have a car, but it sat in the parking garage until he left the city limits. He wouldn't dare drive himself if he was going anywhere within city limits. Parking was a bitch. And too costly.

Why pay for parking when you're already paying for drinks?

A taxi was cheaper for the mile back to his apartment.

Rowan ordered another glass.

And that's when she walked in.

Aelin Galathynius, the only woman that worked in his office that was under the age of sixty, strode into the room like she owned the place. Her golden hair was unbound and the dark green dress that she had donned was far too scandalous for their regular nine to five.

Gods, she was gorgeous.

She was always beautiful, no matter what she wore, no matter what day it was. At first, Rowan couldn't stand her. She was too stubborn and that mouth of hers? He had never heard such a loose tongue. The same reasons he had hated her were now the same reasons that he now couldn't stop thinking about her. Every day, especially on those days that he dreaded sitting in his cubicle, she's what got him out of bed and behind his computer.

She spotted him and grinned, ruby lips twisting as her blue eyes lit up. After saying hello to a few of their coworkers, she was walking in his direction, hips swaying.

Rowan took a sip of his drink.

"Hey stranger," she said, grinning as she slid onto the stool next to him. He couldn't help but watch as she crossed her long, smooth legs. "How many do I have to drink to catch up?"

For a second, Rowan forgot how to think. Then, he said, "No idea. Ten? Maybe?" Even as the words came out, he felt his body sway.

Aelin chuckled. "You're gonna spend half your paycheck before you leave this place. It's ridiculous that they don't pay for an open bar. Seriously, they own our souls, the least they can do is get us drunk enough to enjoy ourselves at this thing."

Rowan grinned, taking another hearty sip. "But then we probably wouldn't get our Christmas bonus, and that's the only reason we all stick through the shit every year."

Aelin huffed a laugh. "Fair enough." She ordered a martini. "So, are you doing your usual? Staying for two hours so that the boss knows you've been here and socialized, then ducking out?"

Rowan thought on it for a moment. "Depends, I guess."

Aelin arched a brow. "On?"

"If I decide that there's a reason to stay any longer," he said, eyes drifting to hers. There was always a sense of mischief lingering in those eyes of hers. It drove him wild.

"I see," she crooned, just as her martini arrived. Her lipstick left its mark on the rim of the glass.

The two of them fell into a comfortable round of small talk. He asked about her day, she asked about his. Talking to Aelin was easy, it always had been, ever since Rowan decided that he no longer wanted her to shut up and leave him alone. It was effortless, their conversation, and five minutes quickly turned into ten, then twenty, then it had nearly been an hour since he had been sitting there, facing her.

"I hate this song," Aelin groaned, finishing off what was in her glass as Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas blasted through the speakers. "It haunts my nightmares."

Rowan hummed his agreement, sliding yet another empty glass to the other side of the bar. "We can go outside."

Aelin arched a brow. "It's snowing."

"Don't like being cold?"

"Does anyone?"

"I don't hate it as much as I hate this song."

Aelin chuckled. "Fine. Can you walk straight enough to make it to the sidewalk?"

Rowan nodded at her two empty glasses, even though she hadn't drank anywhere near what he had. "Can you?"

Aelin hopped off the bar stool and adjusted her skirt as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Come on."

The second Rowan's feet hit the ground, he was regretting every decision he had made that night. The room around him swayed and he had to grab onto the bartop to keep his footing. He was on the verge of cursing as a slim arm snaked around his waist.

"Come on," she said, perfectly amused. "Cold air will do you some good."

"I'm not that drunk," Rowan protested, tossing his arm around her shoulders.

"You didn't just hear how badly you slurred."

"I didn't slur."

"Oh, yes you did."

Rowan shook his head, but he knew she was right. Yet, he didn't care. Considering he and Aelin were walking out of the hotel with their arms around one another, Rowan didn't care about a thing.

As they stepped outside, snow was falling from the starlit sky in heaps. The flakes were so thick that he couldn't see to the other side of the street.

But he could see Aelin in perfect clarity.

"It feels good out here," Rowan muttered, closing his eyes. Aelin grunted as his full weight hit her. He hadn't realized that their arms were still around one another until he opened his eyes again and looked down to find Aelin already watching him. "I promise I'm not that drunk."

"Liar," she said, grinning. She leaned into him. "We've known each other for a while now."

"We have," Rowan agreed. "A few years."

Aelin nodded. "And, over those few years, we've flirted quite a bit."

A choking noise came out of Rowan. "Flirted?"

"Yeah, flirted."

"I guess we have," Rowan said, the world around him hazy and unsteady. "A few times, maybe."

"And yet you've never asked me out."

Rowan blinked, slow and drunkenly, as Aelin looked up at him curiously. "I've never asked you out?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure I would have remembered if you had."

"Do you want me to ask you out?"

Aelin's arm around his waist tightened. Her body was warm up against his. "I thought I've made that obvious."

"I've never been great at picking up hints," Rowan confessed.

"Obviously." Her laughter rose above the noises of the city street. Streetcars passed by quickly and people who were enjoying the city lights and Christmas decorations walked by, hand in hand, in awe.

"So, do you wanna-"

"No."

"No?"

"Don't ask me."

Rowan fumbled for his words. "I thought you wanted..."

"Not while you're drunk," she said, her lips twisted in the smallest of smiles. "Ask me when you're sober."

At some point, Aelin must have signaled for a taxi because one pulled up to the curb and she led him to the back door.

"Your two hours are up," she said, lightly, and opened the door before dropping her arm from his waist, at last. "Better go home and sleep it off."

Rowan plopped into the backseat of the taxi, nearly falling over in the process. "But-"

"I had fun tonight," she said, and even though he was drunk off his ass, Rowan knew that she meant it. It was because of that that he put on his seatbelt and let Aelin close the door.

He rolled down his window. "I'll call you when I'm sober?"

"I can't wait," she promised, just as the taxi pulled away from the curb and into traffic.

First thing in the morning, when his head is pounding and he's regretting every drink he had, he'd call.

[dizzyluc]

Incoming vent rant (needed to air out my anger after the past 3 days, considering my pain level I'd say is at a 6 out of 10, and the more constant pain I'm in, the more pissed I get lol...)

This month, let alone this week, has not been kind to me... and it's only Tuesday, THE THIRD ">_> When this month starts off shitty due to something personal related (not health related thankfully, (although it IS insurance related is all I'll say, it could definitely be worse though, but...) it's actually put me in a pretty pissy mood these past few days, which I'm praying Friday it's taken care of, so hoping Friday goes over well) Monday, my "rest up before a long ass week" day, I had to take my car in to get an oil change as my light just lit up, went to a "Take 5" and after waiting 30 minutes, being inside the place that does it, with my car off cause no idea when they would actually just "start" doing stuff... "Oh, we don't have the right thing to change your oil, so we can't do it." THANKS FOR SAYING IT AFTER MAKING ME WAIT (instead of checking real quick if it can be done... then having me wait for everyone that came before me go... although I think they were understaffed too) Then after, I go to a local donut place, that I have been trying to get a coconut flavor for, for WEEKS, even went the day before and they said "oh we will have it tomorrow!" and they still didn't have it... (they have said this 3 times now at this point) pretty much making my outing a complete waste of time. Today being Tuesday? I've been almost crashed into 6+ times (at least twice my mom yelped at people almost creaming me) The donut place, after saying I'd be back at noon today? "It will be ready at 5-6 today!" How. Many. Times... I drop my mom off for her appointment, which normally this one takes 3 hours due to ALWAYS being behind, get a Slurpee... which tasted like a cheap drink... and then every place I went to, for SOME reason, after lunch? Big lines. I get done with the final place almost, expecting to get back and chill and relax after such a hectic afternoon and week so far... (after picking up a pizza cause a good deal usually happened at a certain pizza place nearby on Tuesdays) Mom texts: Oh, I'm just about done, there was no one in the doctor's office today! So we can keep doing errands once you get back! Me thinking... "Can I get just 5 minutes... FIVE. MINUTES." Dealt with more cars trying to ram me (If you go to Florida, be VERY CAUTIOUS about driving here, the people are lunatic drivers, even more so lately it feels like, literally had to slam on my brakes twice today because people THINK THEY OWN THE ROAD, TO PULL OUT IN FRONT OF ME) After finally eating today (I only had donut holes at this point btw today... it was pizza though, but...)

I think my nerves from all the shit happening these past few days finally caught up to me and I got nauseated for like an hour or so, which going back to the donut place didn't help (it still wasn't ready when I got there, it was almost 6 pm) and after they brought it out... it wasn't even the right donuts. "Wait, OHHHH... you wanted the white, coconut donuts we served like, 3 months ago right? With the coconut drizzle? Oh yeah, no that was discontinued." Me thinking: ... I LITERALLY TOLD YOU THIS EVERY TIME "I want the coconut donut that had white frosting, and coconut flakes drizzled on top of the donut" I got whatever the hell they made, got home, let dogs out (while it pretty much was almost raining) and it took me 2 hours to get a shower and now lay down in bed. ... and it just keeps going tomorrow lol... (Gotta be ready by noon, and will be out probably till 6 or so doing "Military Monthly run" aka pick up medicine, pick up veterinarian stuff for dogs, maybe mail some stuff or do a bank run (these 2 not always), followed by pick up cards and any random stuff at the Base Exchange, then the Commissary for almost 2 hours for the family monthly grocery supply [and this is why I call it "grocery day" as it's an all day affair, that literally is dedicated for goods for the month])

[blood-injections]

I'm like in the Horrors right now (very mild head cold caught from my cousin lol) pleeease talk funkobra to me I wanna talk about them 🥺

Oh no not the horrors,, hope you feel better soon <3

Yeyeys funkobra ive been having thoughts today but then again i am every day theyre always on my mind honesty its a problem. They're best friends they're sometimes gay for each other they're rivals they're partners in crime they're complete fucking idiots. Ghouls kinda got a pathetic crush crazy puppy love sorta thing going on for kobra half the time and the other half just wants to fight him but just in that unbridled energy sort of way and like he has so much he needs to move he needs to fight he needs to be grounded by the physicality and pain. Also he just doesn't know any other way to show affection but figures fighting should work cause its kinda their thing. Hes like. This is flirting right? There's deeper stuff too yknow but that's the gist of it.

Meanwhile Kobra loves Ghoul as much as he hates him yknow but also its literally like that for everyone with him but where like with poison where its like i hate you with every inch of my being but i love you id die for you i could never leave your side with ghoul its like. You're cute i wanna bash your face in. Or youre annoying you fucking piss me off but youve also kind of become my best friend? And i still want to fight you and hurt you when you piss me off but youre part of the crew now and we've fought together and that means you're not alowed to die. Like unless its by my hands. Thats kinda the sum of what they are 2 me. Like where poison and kobra could never Actually kill eachother with ghoul and kobra honestly. theres a chance. And they kiss somtimes. Its a good thing they arent immortal or something because they'd literally be killing each other(mostly for fun) every five minutes.

Then theres the whole they both just like to fight for reasons and Tism and whatever so they fight eachother because it works and its safer than any other methods of getting thay shit out of their system because most of the time they know when to stop to not serously hurt the other like one of the could get if the just went and started a fight with someone or something.

They're so fucking stupid and it is very important to me that everyone knows. They're idiots. Neither of them understand social cues ghoul has no boundaries kobra is brutally honest and has anger issues they should not be allowed near people and their stupidity will bounce off of each other they actively make each other dumber they'll rile each other up and dare each other to do stupid shit left and right and they both have no reason to but theyll accept those dares regarless of danger or lameness or anything. "Hey go stand in that corner and stare at the wall for a hour." "Okay" or "hey drive your bike off that cliff" "bet"

They steal shit, they're both banned from tommy chow meins for life, they wont steal from dr d because they have too much respect for him but he watches them like a hawk so they dont break something because theyre buffons and will elbow and trip eachother out of the blue and they have indeed broken radio equipment before from both just tripping but also tumbling into it and proceeding to have a wrestling match on his floor. They're annoying they're the only ones that can stand each other and they're even more annoying together, the zones hate them. They're best friends they're soulmates in a way they're an argument away from losing control in a fight and actually killing each other but also if anything happened to one of them the other would fucking tear apart the desert piece by piece, set battery city on fire, or go on a rampage and not stop even to sleep until they get revenge or fix it.

[knowlessman]

it finally crossed my mind to watch this at the magic hour of fifteen minutes past midnight again so here we go (bnha s6e1-6)

oh yeah, libertaria happened; Mosquito from Soul Eater got his entire city's ass handed to him by pajama sam. and I think hawks fucking killed best jeanist to keep his double agent cover intact. I forget whether Endeavor is in the hospital atm or what, if I didn't know any better I'd swear the bit with the smart nomu was two entire seasons ago -- OH FUCK, AND SLENDERVOID TURNED OUT TO BE AN OLD STUDENT FROM UA. there was a whole thing with him and eraser head and present mic

oh boy, and Chapped Komaeda's quirk leveled up too apparently

new OP to go with the new season? I thought this didn't happen with anime. …I miss Carousel 'XD

oh yeah, and Twice unlocked the ability to use his power on himself freely too.

ah, we're finally learning more about Robotnik

"of course, he does have a quirk, it just wasn't in the records" dangit, show keeps dodging opportunities to have quirkless characters in important roles (and have them, y'know, stay quirkless). I don't know for a fact that the detective guy doesn't have one, but assuming he doesn't, he's like the only one. Hell, even that quirkless-centered faction in that movie had no quirkless members who even had faces, much less names; cept maybe that one nameless police chief guy

(outro showing deku and tomura standing across from each other) gawd I hope these two don't get to have a conversation, deku's gonna piss me off so bad

oh no, she killed the ugly platypus

… no yeah I officially miss Carousel. I should go find the other intros and listen to them again, I'm sure there must've been at least one that I liked more than Carousel and just didn't remember the name of (speaking of which, I'm like 50/50 on whether it's Carousel or Merry-Go-Round)

"in all, we only have five High End nomus, including Woman" really? …is her quirk having hair

Mirko goes pretty damn hard, huh

heh. Pichu has Lightning Rod, then. Kinda doubt this means he's worked past that recoil tho. (misc, ngl that amplivolt guy is kinda hot. lights his cigarette with his sparks. not quite the absolute legend that Dilf Legoshi (Chimera from the second movie) is, but still, not bad)

'XD poor Twice is just racking up the L's when it comes to introducing new friends

"Dark Shadow! Ragnarok!" pfft, calling him by his government name now, eh? 'XD

…wait hawks is a fucking child soldier? what the fuck

"no! mewtwo's not ready yet! he can't be taken out of the machine until it beeps!"

danganronpa 4's looking legit

you're not gonna get very far in tetris with a setup like this, not unless you've got some ungodly T-spins

you had ONE JOB, dollar-tree cyclops. one job. "take care of shigaraki." your dumb ass didn't even take him out of the goop, you just HAD to shoot the bad guy machine with your dinky eye laser before doing anything else so it'd spark up and defibrillate him, even though that probably shouldn't have done anything because HIS HEART WAS ALREADY STOPPED

-- (defibrillators don't start your heart, they force it to stop so that your body freaks out and starts over trying to pump it in a proper rhythm. or something like that anyway, lol I got a D in survey of anatomy and learned from tv tropes that writers have been repeating misinformation about zappy shock pads for ages)

(cyclops got jean-gray'd, probably, I don't know x-men) yooo, tomura takin this dipshit's cape and making it his new wardrobe like Liliana taking that angel's hairpiece, I dig it -- or xykon taking that one guy's crown ig. …okay not that xykon isn't a cool villain but I think I just stopped being impressed by this trope

o_o tokoyami you're even weaker to fire than hawks is (probably), the fuck you think you're doing here? -- "this hero friend of yours killed an enemy" okay here's a take: hawks's subplot and entire deal, even his backstory, is in the wrong genre. that's kind of it. spies do this shit, and even kill their own allies, all the time in intrigue stories. it doesn't stop it from being dark af, but their genre is all about necessary evils (albeit, those evils are often only "necessary" for the purposes of their countries', or worse, governments', interests). this is a kids' show. …fine, a teenagers' show. this isn't where those themes generally show up. -- "those pros you admire so much play dirtier than guys like me" also dabi is talking out of his ass here but I feel like that's pretty obvious, he's just trying to demoralize tokoyami and company

'''XD fuckin A! a shitload of ice explodes out and knocks toko and hawks free of dabi, and it wasn't todoroki??? it was just some named rando villain with ice powers? I think I vaguely remember him from when pajama boy took over, but I could swear I recall him getting completely thrashed last time -- "I know you did what was right, hawks!" aw 'XD you kinda can't avoid meeting your heroes in this show. such a shame

oh dammit, and now bigfoot's woken up -- OH TOMURA'S HIS MASTER NOW? FUCK 'XD

just realized something. I don't think we've seen deku yet this whole five episodes. …oh wait, no yeah he and the others showed up way at the beginning, they're in the back ranks and out of the fighting. …author get bored of them? 'XD -- oh, speak of the devils

oh shit, the avatar spirits are sensing whatshisfuck waking up. …there was raava, I think, was the blue one. the hell was the red one called? think it also might've started with an R. ryukyu? probably not. rakdos, idfk 'XD

ayyyup. boomboom levels are approaching the lower end of the DBZ scale

okay this OP is wayyy too chill and upbeat for this arc 'XD

(toga's on the move) spah stabbin mah heroes

"it's like I've had them since I was born" ayyyyup, papa's got a brand new bag of tricks to back up his signature moves

"where are you going?" deku: "uh, I forgot something!" yeah sure, you left the stove on in the hospital that looks like piccolo threw a tantrum on it -- "following you? what, you think you're the main character now?" …gawd bakugo is annoying. catch up, mr verbal-abuse-is-my-only-language -- "you're the bait" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA get dusted, ya swaglesss vegeta knockoff

0_0 RYUKYU'S DEAD HE TOUCHED HER. …oh wait, hat n clogs is on the scene. it's a fight. hot damn, but what tricks are chapped komaeda packing now that hat n clogs can't turn off? -- …(finally looks up the bleach character I keep associating aizawa with) …wait this guy's blond. he doesn't even have black hair. …why do I think Aizawa looks like him? even their personalities are completely different, so it's not that

gran torino: "bakugo knows about one for all, right?" yeah, I don't know why they trust him with it either

…goddammit, that was six episodes, I don't WANNA keep going, I should try to sleep! 'XD eh, I'll try to make that gif and post these later (there was a split second where I'm pretty sure an indistinct figure during one of the crowd fighting shots was breakdancing, but fuck it nvm)

[tonberry-yoda]

You Don't Have to Miss Me

Pairing - Reaper x reader

Warnings - none! angsty, but fluffy, but angsty lol (i also didnt proofread this at all lol, so if there are some funky bits, i really dont care lmaooooo)

Word Count - 1,954

Notes - i have been loving overwatch and then this hottie appeared and i was like... dangit. now i have to write for him smh. this is 7 pages on google docs lmaooo. im not the biggest fan of this one, but i thought i would just put it here for funsies lol. enjoy and have a good day and stay hydrated!! <333

Gabriel woke up, completely exhausted. Nothing new. At least he had those few moments of sleep that made him forget about the pain. Even if it was only a couple of hours, it was bliss. But it still didn't make up for the times he would wake up with nothing but pain surging through his body.

He quickly got out of bed, trying to make himself busy before he thought too much about the pain. That was difficult though, especially considering just how bad it hurt. He was in agony. It's like he was going insane. He just wanted it to stop.

Gabriel jumped feeling his cat rub on his leg, hoping to get some attention. Gabriel leaned down with a small smile, petting it on the head. “I'll feed you soon, Grimm.”

Grimm mewed with curiosity as Gabriel walked to the bathroom immediately greeted by his tired face. The icing on the cake. On top of feeling like shit, he looked like shit too. Just great.

He was quickly pulled from his mind as he felt Grimm’s soft fur back on his legs. “Grimm, no kitties in the bathroom.” He held Grimm from under his arms, the fat thing going ragdoll mode just to annoy Gabriel. “Shoo, out.” Gabriel pushed Grimm’s chubby butt away from the bathroom and slammed the door, sad and lonely meows quickly following.

Gabriel just stared at himself in the mirror for a moment before taking a deep breath. He needed to take a goddamn shower. He already looked and felt like shit, he didn't want to smell like it on top of that.

Ignoring the sad meows from the other side of the door, Gabriel let the water from the shower cover his whole body. Nice and warm. Today was going to be a long day, best to start it off good.

His nice shower was quickly interrupted, however, when he heard his phone ring. Usually, he would ignore that sort of thing, but when he peeked his head out of the shower, he saw your name plastered on his screen.

He cursed under his breath and jumped out of his shower, wiping his hands dry enough to at least answer the call.

“Reaper! That you?!” He put you on speaker and could hear that you were in the middle of battle, gunshots and explosions going off in the background.

“Y-Yeah. What’s up?” He jumped back in the shower, washing the soap out of his hair.

“Are you in the shower right now? OH SHIT!” He heard a couple of gunshots in the background and then silence.

“Are you oka-”

“You still there, Reaper?”

“Yeah, I'm still here.” He quickly ended his shower and wrapped a towel around his lower half.

“Are you nearby at all?” You sounded out of breath.

“Nearby as in…”

“We’re in Spain right now. I was wondering if you-”

Gabriel laughed, drying off his hair. “Sorry, sweetheart. I'm at home in America right now. There is no way in hell I'm rushing my ass over to Spain in the next five minutes. Call someone else.”

“Ugh! You’re no help, you know that?!” You took cover and reloaded your gun. “EAT MY BULLETS YOU PIECE OF SHIT!! I'll call you later, Reaper. I should be back tomorrow morning. Oh… and about the other night-”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Gabriel put his finger over the hang up button, tempted to press it.

“Don't hang up, Reaper. I just wanted to-”

Gabriel hung up quickly. He didn't want to talk about the other night, nor did he want to hear about it.

— — —

“What an asshole!” You reloaded your gun and went haywire on the other team.

“Is everything alright?” Widowmaker ran up to you and quickly grabbed your hand helping you off of the ground.

“I'm fine. Just a little pissed, that’s all.” You couldn't help but talk through gritted teeth. You were on edge right now.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Widowmaker watched your back and you watched hers. Thank god you had her on your side.

“I mean… I do… but he asked if we could keep it on the downlow, so I don't think I can.”

“He? You didn't tell me this was about a guy!” Widowmaker’s eyes went shiny, ready for you to spill everything.

“Oh, shut up, Widow, it's not like that.” You rolled your eyes, giggling a bit.

“Sure it's not.” Her tone was mocking, but it didn't stop you from laughing a bit. “So, who is he? Is he handsome? Does he have muscles?”

“Not telling. Yes. Yes.” You quickly ran through her questions, keeping your eyes on the other team.

“Do I know him?”

“I'm not telling you that.”

Widow rolled her eyes and you both heard a loud, “FIRE IN THE HOLE!!!”, which meant it was time for you both to get out of there.

“Come on, y/n! Just tell me!”

“He would kill me if I did that!” You both hurdled over a bus and held the back of your heads for cover.

“I got it!” You heard loud music and looked up to find Lucio, who threw you a thumbs up. Quickly after his attack, there was cheering from the rest of your team.

You won. Thank god.

Maybe that would finally get Widowmaker to stop asking questions.

— — —

“Sooooo,” DVA walked over to you, taking a long sip from some fruit punch. “I heard you were uh… you know… with a guy?”

You nearly choked on your food that you got from the little celebration table for winning. Of course Widowmaker had to blab about this. You knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“Look, DVA, it doesn't really matter, okay? Where’d you get the punch?” You tried to change the subject, but of course that wouldn't work for DVA.

“So, who is he? Is he a dirtbag? I hope he’s treating you well!” She put her hands on her hips dramatically and you shook your head, standing up to leave.

“It doesn't matter, DVA. And yes! He’s treating me fine, thank you!”

“But Widowmaker said you were pretty pissed at him.” DVA checked her nails and you froze. How much did Widowmaker say?

“What are you two talking about?” Widowmaker appeared, grabbing herself something sweet off of the table full of food.

“Oh nothing,” you walked over, nonchalantly taking some food for yourself. “Just that you're spilling the news to everyone about a guy that I'm friendly with.”

Widowmaker’s face turned a dark shade of red. “I-I'm sorry. I just thought-”

You giggled and patted her on the shoulder. “I'm joking Widow. But seriously,” your tone got low, getting close to her ear. “Tell one more person and you’re gonna get it.”

Widowmaker laughed nervously, but you gave her another reassuring pat. “You can't blame me for wanting to know about the mystery man, y/n.”

“I know, I know it's just-” You were quickly interrupted by your ringtone. “Sorry, Widow, I gotta-” You looked down at the name and your face went bright red. “I-I gotta go! Eat an extra cake for me, okay?!”

Why did Reaper have to call you now?

“Hello?” You found a small closet to hide in for the time being, far enough from the celebration. “Reaper?”

“Hey… uh…” Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck. “Are you busy?”

“No… I mean… we just won, so we’re kinda celebrating,” you scooted an old mop to the side, sitting on the ground. “But I'm not busy. I can talk.”

“Oh, congrats.”

“O-Oh! Thanks, Reaper! So… uh… what did you want to talk about?” Your voice was soft, trying not to attract any attention if anyone walked by.

“Uhm… you know what… nevermind. It doesn't really matter. Celebrate your accomplishment. You deserve it. See you tomorrow, alright?” Gabriel went to press the hang up button, but you stopped him.

“Wait… Reaper… what’s up?”

“I'm sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“Just,” Reaper sighed. “About the other night. I know we haven't seen each other in a while. I shouldn't have-”

“Gabe… I mean, Reaper. You don't have to apologize. Really. I just-” You were quickly interrupted by a knock on the door. “I have to go. We can talk tomorrow. Promise.”

“Wait, I-” You hung up the phone, leaving Reaper’s house in complete silence.

— — —

Gabriel woke up to the feeling of Grimm’s cold paws on his face. “Dude,” he sat up, his voice tired. “Who the heck let you in here? Did I leave my door open last night?”

Grimm mewed at him sweetly and ran his tail under Gabriel’s chin. He looked around the room, subconsciously petting Grimm. Something was off. Different. His door was open and so was his closet. Did he just forget to close everything the night before? Was he that tired?

Grimm jumped off the bed with a loud meow and quickly ran down the stairs. He was acting weird too. Was Gabriel just that tired?

He just remembers getting off of the phone with you and then…

Wait.

Gabriel quickly jumped out of bed, slipping on some sweatpants, and ran downstairs, immediately greeted by the smell of eggs and bacon. He slid to the kitchen, pulling out his guns pointing them at… you?

“Woah! Put those down, Reaper!” You ran up and moved his guns down with a giggle. “Sorry! I didn't want to wake you up!”

Gabriel sighed with relief and leaned against a nearby counter. “I knew something was off in the house.”

You smiled and handed him a plate of breakfast. “I'm just glad you didn't shoot me.”

“Me too.” Gabriel chuckled softly and took his breakfast with a soft thank you.

“I'm not mad by the way, Gabe.” Your voice was low, your eyes glued to the window in his kitchen.

“You're not?”

You shook your head and turned your gaze to Gabriel. “We just… needed to talk. Maybe not that loudly,” you chuckled and took a long sip from your coffee. “But we talked, didn't we?”

“I guess… I just… I didn't want to yell at you like that.” Gabriel got flashbacks of a couple nights ago. You were just coming to visit. It had been years. You ended up talking… and then yelling… and then screaming. Some of it felt good, and some of it didn't. Some of it he meant to say, and most of it, he didn't. He knew you cared about him… he just didn't want to get attached. He didn't want to be a burden to you. He just… wanted you to be happy. And he didn't think that being around him would make that happen.

“And I didn't want to yell at you like that either, Reaper. I just… I care about you.”

“But you shouldn't.” Reaper could feel tears in his eyes that he quickly tried to cover. He couldn't cry. He wouldn't.

You walked up and cupped his cheek, smiling into his eyes. Something about seeing him without the mask made you feel special. Hell, maybe you were.

“Gabe, I-”

He couldn't help it. Those cute eyes. That sweet smile. Your soft touch. He cupped both sides of your face and leaned down to your level, pressing his lips to yours. You quickly sank in, throwing your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

He couldn't help but still love you. Even after you and Soldier left him. Even after he left you. He couldn't help but want you back in his life. He loved you. He loved you so much.

You pulled away, running your fingers through his soft, but messy hair. “Gabe. I miss you.”

“You don't have to miss me anymore.”

[burnedlegend-archive]

so like we all remember how in the lsat two seasons of legends, people had a tendency to treat mick like he was an animal/talk to him like he was a dog, etc.

well, a couple coworkers started doing that to me today, calling me an animal, giving me orders like i was a dog, etc. and like

ya know

if you experience this yourself

you really start to get why mick spends his life in a homicidal rage 

[cocosstories]

Pete Davidson One Shot

Request: how about one with Pete Davidson and the reader where she gets pregnant very unexpectedly and is not happy at all, and Pete gets mad/upset over her reaction since he wants the baby? It can end with them making up of course and embracing the idea of motherhood! But you can end it how you like :) 💜

I was watching dumbo and now it’s got me all 🥺 lol was wondering if you could do a one shot with Pete or whoever you want where the reader sings the song baby mine to their child and then whoever is just in complete awe over what an amazing mom the reader is and it’s just super fluffy? 🥰

You and Pete bathing your newborn baby for the first time

You were crying when your boyfriend Pete got to your apartment. 

He walked in and immediately ran to your side, pulling you onto his lap.

"Babe, what's wrong? What happened?"

Pete asks, rubbing your back to help you calm down. 

"I'm pregnant."

You say in an almost whisper. 

The room was quiet for what seemed like hours until Pete finally speaks. 

"That's amazing! We're going to have a baby!"

He says excitedly, his face dropping when you start to cry again.

"Wait, what's wrong? This is a good thing right?"

He asks, moving you back off his lap to the couch.

"A good thing? Pete, I'm not ready to have a baby. We aren't ready to have a baby. We haven't even been together for a year yet! How is this a good thing?"

You ask, not really understanding how he sees the current predicament as a positive.

"So, you what? You don't want to have the baby then? You would really do that, Y/N? Get rid of our kid?"

You flinch at his words. 

"I don't know but I sure as hell am not going to throw a fucking party."

You get up and head to your bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind you. 

A few minutes later, you hear the front door slam and throw yourself down on your bed.

Weeks pass and you and Pete have hardly even spoken since that day.

'Can we talk?'

You finally text him one day.

'About what?'

You sigh, knowing he was still pissed.

Instead of getting nasty with him, you decide to send him a picture of your latest ultrasound.

'This'

You text back and almost immediately, your phone begins to ring. 

"Is that..."

"Our baby. Yeah. She's getting pretty big. Really healthy."

You confirm, placing a hand on your growing bump.

"I'm coming over."

Pete says before hanging up the phone, showing up at your apartment half an hour later.

You open the door and his eyes immediately fall to your stomach. 

"Look, I know that I freaked out. I know I hurt you when I said I didn't want a baby. That I wasn't ready for it and I honestly still am not but we made this baby. She's our daughter and ready or not, she will be here in a few months."

You say, before he can speak. 

Pete pulls you into his arms, carefully of your belly and holds you.

"Thank you."

He says, the raw emotion in his voice. 

Nearly five months later, you and Pete moved past all of the drama and were now in a great place. 

You gave up your apartment and moved in with him just before your baby girl was born. 

She was absolutely perfect and beautiful and despite the feelings of terror you had when you were first pregnant, you were so happy you changed your mind and embraced the idea of motherhood. 

Two days after she was born, you and Pete brought her home and even though you were exhausted, you couldn't help but be so happy. 

"I think its time for someone's first bath."

You say as you take the tiny baby girl from her daddy.

"You want some help?"

He asks and you shake your head with a smile.

"No, thank you baby. We've got this."

You take the baby into the bathroom where the small tub was set up in the sink and carefully fill it with water before getting her undressed and setting her in it. 

She begins to fuss a bit and you start to sing to her while you carefully wash her.

'Baby mine, don't you cry

Baby mine, dry your eyes

Rest your head close to my heart

Never to part, baby of mine

Little one when you play

Don't you mind what you say

Let those eyes sparkle and shine

Never a tear, baby of mine

If they knew sweet little you

They'd end up loving you too

All those same people who scold you

What they'd give just for

The right to hold you

From your head to your toes

You're not much, goodness knows

But you're so precious to me

Cute as can be, baby of mine'

Pete watches from the doorway happily.

"See baby, all better."

You coo to her once she is all clean and wrapped in a towel.

"Here, daddy will get you dressed for bed."

He says as you hand her off. 

"We really did make a beautiful baby huh?"

You say as you sit on the bed while Pete puts pajamas on the baby.

"We really did."

He smiles, leaning down to give her a sweet kiss before he picks her up and she cuddles on his chest.

[sopebubbles]

The sea without you

part 28 - a lovely day

Warnings: slight violence, abduction, cursing, yandere!oc (not yn lol)

Summary: When rapper Agust D mysteriously disappears, he leaves behind his rap group, his fiancé and his unborn child. Even if they get him back, will it ever be the same? Can they make it right?

[Dates are relevant and times are mostly accurate (but ignore the time at the top bc I can't change it >.<)]

Written portion under the cut

Word count: approximately 1.9k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been such a beautiful day. After lunch the three of you walked over to the park a few blocks from your apartment building and enjoyed the spring weather together. It lasted about forty five minutes before whatever was going on in Yoongi's mind took over completely. You were familiar with the look in his eye. There was some creative idea in his head that he'd been mulling over and it had ripened to the stage where he absolutely had to act on it right now. He didn't tell you what it was and you didn't pry. He'd let you know in good time, when he was sure about it or when he needed your support. You didn't question him or feel bothered when he asked if he could go to meet Joon in the studio. In spite of his excitement you could see the genuine regret he felt for "ruining" your family afternoon, but you assured him he wasn't and there would be many more in the future. So, off he went with a little skip in his step.

But it was such a lovely day, and you and Jungie weren't ready to go back inside yet. The temperature was perfect and the breeze light, without a cloud in the sky. Your daughter pointed excitedly at the swingset on the small playground and rocked on her seat. You pushed her for several minutes and relished in her happy giggles. The way she didn't seem to be affected by the chaos her little life had experienced brought you contentment, and you wished she'd always be so happy. As the three o'clock hour approached you noticed the park had emptied considerably. Sujung began to fade, ready for her nap. She was practically out by the time you placed her back in the stroller and covered her with the shade. As you walked down the sidewalk toward the intersection, you felt a hand cover your mouth.

You awoke in a cold, brightly lit room to the sound of your daughter's cries. Your body responded automatically, muscles coiled to move and pick yourself up from the chair you were seated in to go to her and assess her needs in spite of the fact that your eyelids still felt heavy. No different from many other nights, such was the life of a mother of a two year old. Only, you couldn't move. As the rest of your muscles began to respond you forced your arms to move, but realized they were restrained by a rope tied tightly around your wrists. Confusion gave way to panic and finally your eyes opened fully to take in the space around you: a large cinder block room--maybe a basement?--with fluorescent tube lighting above your head. There wasn't much in the room besides an old table and a wooden chair like the one you found yourself tied to. Sujung's cries came to you from the other end of the room, but your eyes were blurry and you couldn't see that far.

"Baby?" You called out in a hoarse voice. Once again you struggled against the bindings tied tightly against your body, noticing how the chair wobbled and creaked beneath you. "Don't worry, Sujungie, eomma's here," but your voice was too shaky with panic to be comforting if she could even hear you. 

A dark laugh met your ears.

"Who the fuck are you? Get away from my daughter!" You yelled helplessly, yet angrily at the owner of the laugh.

Shuffling footsteps crept in your direction. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt her. She looks too much like him," a woman's voice said. A name flashed through your head accompanied by an face you'd only seen in pictures. Jisoo. It had to be. 

"What the fuck do you want?" You growled, now thoroughly pissed off. It was a foolish question, you realized, but hopefully it would gain her attention and that meant it wouldn't be on your baby. You blinked your eyes, willing them to focus as Jisoo continued to approach you slowly.

"The same thing I've always wanted. Min Yoongi. He was mine before you stole him from me. Twice. I'm gonna get him this time and you won't be able to stop me," she sneered. She was standing right in front of you now, and you could see how people would think she was extremely beautiful if it weren't for the way madness filled her eyes and twisted her features.

"Fuck off, bitch," you snarled. You comment was met with a cool blade under your chin. 

"Ah ah," she warned. "Our acquaintance won't be long, I promise. Yoongi's already on his way here, and no harm has to come to any of you as long as he agrees to my demands. And I know he will." She smiled horrifically. 

"And what might those be?" 

She slid the side of her blade along your jaw. "Simple. He comes with me. You leave with your daughter. And neither of you ever see each other again." She shrugged as if it were nothing, as if your lives were mere trifles.

You sighed a dark laugh. "You know, he probably will agree to those terms. It probably won't be a hard decision for him. But you should know, he'll do it because he loves us, and not because he'll ever love you."

Her eyes flashed quickly as the blade sliced the skin of your cheek. She glanced over her shoulder to your child who was still crying weakly. "On second thought, maybe I'll just let you go and keep sweet little Sujung." She smiled, satisfied with the way your eyes tightened into a glare at her words. She turned and walked slowly back in the direction of the girl. Your struggled in vain against the ropes as warm blood flowed thickly down your cheek. "That's right. If you disappear and I raise her, soon she'll forget all about you. She'll only ever think of me as her mother."

"Stop." Yoongi's voice, loud and firm, echoed around the walls of the cavernous room. Jisoo stopped in her tracks, half way between you and your child. Yoongi took a step toward her. "I'll agree. But you let Sujung go with her mother. We'll go away and we'll never see them again," he told her.

Jisoo's features scrunched. "Won't you miss your daughter?"

Yoongi shrugged and spoke softer. "If she's with us it will only remind me of things I should forget. It will be just you and me. That will be better don't you think?"

"Just you and me?" Jisoo's voice softened, her eyes widening.

"Yes," he assured her. "But you have to let them go." Yoongi's eyes flickered to you for the first time since he'd entered. "Cut her loose, Jisoo."

She turned toward you, eyes narrowed. There was only one small action standing between her and her future happiness, and as soon as she realized that she was moving quickly toward you. She cut the ropes attaching your legs to the chair first before she moved quickly behind you to remove the ones around your wrists and body. You looked nervously at Yoongi, but his eyes were fixed on Jisoo as you rose from the chair. When you didn't move she gave you a push and you stumbled ahead, Yoongi's eyes passing over you involuntarily for the briefest second. You forced your feet to move toward your child even though you could feel your heart breaking with each step. When you were nearly to her, Jisoo moved toward Yoongi.

"I knew you'd see things my way, baby," she cooed as she approached him. You forced yourself to ignore whatever else she said, focusing all your attention on Sujung. You picked her up out of the stroller she'd been waiting in and held her tight and then turned back to keep your eyes on the other two. 

"Everything's going to be okay, baby. Eomma's here." You did your best to soothe her and her cries reduced to whimpers as you wiped the tears from her red blotchy face. When your eyes glanced back to Jisoo and Yoongi, your heart clenched to see her cup his face in her hands, his resting carefully on her hips. You walked toward the center of the room where the table and chair were and cleared your throat. "Let him say goodbye to Jungie," you said shakily when she turned to look at you, hatred in her eyes for interrupting their reunion. She looked back at Yoongi.

"Please, noona," he said with soft eyes. "Just a minute."

Jisoo swallowed and nodded her head before she took a step back from him. Nervously, you set Sujung's feet on the floor and pointed her in the right direction. "Go see daddy," you instructed her, giving her a gentle nudge. She took slow, unsteady steps toward Yoongi, and you hoped with every fiber of your being that Jisoo would be true to her word to never hurt your child. It was a big leap of faith to take, but as she got closer to her father Sujungs pace quicker and she hurried toward him as he stooped to take her in his arms. Yoongi forced a gummy smile that she reflected perfectly. The sight transfixed Jisoo, the thought of taking her with them crossing her mind again. But you forced yourself to look away.

"Appa loves you," Yoongi told her softly, and you could hear the tears in his voice but you couldn't dwell on them as you tried to make your next moves silent. "Appa will never stop loving you," he promised. 

Your hands firmly gripped the chair beside you and you raised it swiftly and decisively through the air, bringing it back down again. Jisoo landed with a thud on the ground, pieces of the chair clattering around her.

"The police are going to be here any second," Yoongi told you after a silent moment passed in which you both held your breaths and looked at Jisoo's immobile body. He'd been feeling a buzzing in his pocket he hoped was Namjoon. 

You cocked an eyebrow at him. "And?"

He held up one hand while the other still clutched his daughter close to his chest. "And nothing," he said with a shake of his head, trying his hardest to hold back a smirk. 

Moments later several police officers entered the room where the three of you guarded Jisoo's body. After a quick explanation and identifying who was who they cuffed her just to be safe and took her away in the squad car. 

"What happened?" Namjoon wondered frantically when the three of you emerged from the abandoned building where you'd been held. 

"I'll tell you about it later when we're all together," you promised. You were too exhausted and you didn't want to tell it multiple times. 

"But the moral of the story is don't ever try to take me or Sujung away." Yoongi leaned closer to the taller man and stage whispered behind his hand. "My wife is kind of crazy."

You lifted your leg to kick him and he winced. "You're not calling me crazy after your psycho ex just kidnapped us!" 

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile tenderly at you and capture you and Sujung in a hug. "Of course not. You're my wonderful girls. I'm so sorry." He sighed before he planted a kiss on each of your heads. "Let's get you guys checked out so we can go home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part 27 << master list >> part 30

Taglist closed

@purpletaecup @yzkyzkuniverse @toomanydamfandoms @halesandy @ggukkieland @kawaiiixchan @fanfictionreader05 @denxuuu @darkskin-buttercup @crewzie-chan @min-yus @yoongiofmine @slayyterr @ephyraaaa @uhmdaddychill @marpotterhead @mooniyooni @lyndseygoregasmxo @tazzi-baby @agustdowney

[katsukikitten]

I present to you overworked. A comfort one shot I made hella quick for @mindninjax myself and anyone else who needs some bakugou comfort today. Please enjoy and let Bakugou be here for you if no one else can. 😊

Header by me!

Your phone softly vibrates on your desk as your eyes burn from staring at a screen filled with information that is familiar, information that you should know but just cannot retain. 

Or focus. 

So your phone is a happy distraction as you reach for it, only to be slightly annoyed by to a message from your hot headed friend. 

Grumpyasshole: Oi, haven't heard from you in that stupid ass group chat all week. Dunce face and shitty hair wanna know what's pissed in your cheerios 

Tongue in your cheek you debate on replying. You had ignored a slew of messages from your friends, in the group chat and even your dms sat smiling faces trapped in their little bubbles but you had always turned your phone face down. Too caught up in stress to be able to fulfill any social quota but your friends must have been desperate to convince the token grump of the group to message you. Privately at that. 

In a matter of seconds your thumbs slide across the virtual keyboard, knowing you could be honest with Bakugou, that the Pro hero could handle any sort of emotional load with ease. 

You thought it most likely because he did not care in the first place to store the baggage, at least not anywhere for long. 

You: Just feeling really run down from work. I think I'm over my head but probably too prideful to admit. Lol. Please tell everyone I'm sorry, that I'm just busy and I'll be back on my bullshit hopefully by Friday. 

Before you can even set your phone down you see that Bakugou leaves you on read. Your snort softly as you shake your head, tossing your phone aside for work. 

"Typical." You mutter to yourself. Reaching for your iced coffee only to find it empty. You debate if you should take a trip to get more. On one hand the air, despite the rain would do you good, you're sure your deskmate would gladly take a coffee. On the other, everyone in the office would stuff your hands with bills and credit cards begging you'd bring them some of that sweet nectar back. No one would care that you wouldn't haven't a hand for your umbrella and your hair would get totally fucked. 

So you decide to suffer in silence, as you always do. 

Hours slip through your fingers before your eyes glance at the small clock on the bottom right hand side of your computer. Steadily counting the minutes in the small banner. You sigh. Bringing your head down between your arms as your fingers lightly fist your hair at your nape. You felt as if you accomplished nothing, what with how much was left. 

At least your desk was clean and your shirt was cute, a good view for a few spine numbing minutes. You think you smell caramel wafting through the air, a part of you annoyed that your desk mate would venture the rain for her normal caramel latte without offering 

This is how Bakugou finds you when he approaches your desk, a sneer settled on his handsome features. Dirt and sweat clinging to his skin and the dark fabric of his hero suit. He crosses his arms, long gone are the obnoxious grenade gauntlets as his chest puffs. 

People in the office are staring at the blonde, his jagged domino mask making his garnet eyes that much more intense. Tension rises in the air as you're so oblivious, still collecting yourself silently praying that when you look back up the clock would read closer to five. 

"Oi." His voice is a deep rumble, not belonging in the office. No it belonged in the living room of your crazy packed house to one of your many roommates. It belonged at a bar, nagging that it's time to go when you were too drunk to fend off any prying hands, pestering you about your feet as he dragged you home. This voice belonged in the kitchen fussing at Denki for the stupid memes he puts in the group chat when all of you were 'right fucking here'. 

This voice did not belong in the office and so a part of you thinks you're seriously losing your shit before you glance up at the clock. Time moved like a sloth for you since the last you looked only ten minutes had passed. Kronos laughing at your plea of having time continue to move as light speed only to seemingly stop. 

"OI! Is yer head so far up yer ass ya can't fuckin hear me now, Princess?" Wait, who was using that nickname? 

That nickname thrust upon you by that grumpy asshole roommate once he saw how "high maintenance" you were when clearly you just cared about yourself for yourself. He did it as a jest but it made your whole body heat and go rigid every damn time. 

And he took notice in it. 

Delight even. 

And took notice in the way you hadn't been putting in much effort for yourself. Not taking the time for your hair, or your skincare routine that you forced on the whole house. Everyone dewy in their own right. How you look disheveled and bewildered now as you turned to face him. 

Large eyes going doe like, mouth forming in the smallest O that had him shifting his weight from one foot to the other because of his darker, lingering thoughts. 

How would you sound when he was buried…

He cuts the thought off with a pop of his skin, pulling you to your feet from your desk. 

"What are you doing?" Your voice cracks from shock, worry and a bit of venom leaks through but you make no effort to break free. 

"Wrap this shit up. I told yer boss I need your dumb ass for something." 

"Like what? I-" Bakugou cuts you off by leaning in close, eyes dark as he presses his lips to the shell of your ear. 

"You need a fucking day off. So I told your boss to fuck off and that you're coming home with me." His tone absolute. So you save your last bit of work, clock out before Bakugou passes you your jacket. He glares into the glass of your manager's office and you notice him crumble beneath that infamous burning gaze. 

Part of you wonders what Bakugou had really said, wonders if you'd still had a job. 

The two of you stand under the awning of your office building. The rain coming down in sheets, thick enough it almost blurs the cityscape.  Bakugou sighs, tension leaving his body as he tilts his neck. It cracks from the effort. 

"So what...what are we gonna do?" 

"I'm going to take your stupid ass home. Force you to shower while I order take out, then I'm going to set your overworked ass on the couch and we are going to watch that fucking movie you never shut up about. Got it Princess?" He fixes you a glare and is extra careful to drag out your nickname ever so slightly as he leans towards you. Your faces are close together, your heart in your throat as you try to push down these stupid, fleeting feelings you've had for the hot head since the six of you moved into that almost run down house. 

But you never could shake them. 

You senses fill with spiced caramel, easing the tension of your shoulders. 

"G-got it." 

[bitch-butter]

...I really hope you're okay with me continuing to request things because unfortunately until you tell me to stop, I will. I love your writing, it's always a delight to read. If you'd like, could I please ask for "Stop, please" with Them? You're amazing, take care of yourself

Ooof this one got Away From Me lol I needed to get out of the 50's for a minute, so this is not only modern au but is also probably Way too long, and for that I apologize. I was just having fun writing this, I wanted to keep going and going, but I hope you find something to like in it! be well~

“Stop, please.”

He's still half dead when he wanders into the coffee shop on the corner, barely dressed and still rumpled from hardly sleeping the night before. Coffee shops aren't his usual scene, he doesn't appreciate the cheap sentiment, the overproduced Atmosphere of such places, but his coffee machine (lovingly named True Grit) had taken its last breaths just a few days prior, and he'd had to be resourceful ever since. Especially after last night, when he'd only managed to haphazardly grapple the guys into his car around midnight, systematically dropping them off at their respective domiciles all the while cursing his designated driver status. He truly cannot win with these assholes, sometimes.

So it's with a mixture of relief and resentment that he wanders into the shop, with its scattered tables, its fireplace, it's overstuffed chairs, and its dyed-haired barista that acts like Joe ordering a black coffee is somehow triggering to them. He can only shake his head as he takes his bounty to the coffee station, loading up on whatever raw sugar he can find, and only narrowly catching sight of the guy seated at the table by the fire.

He frowns, blinking closer at the wayward swoop of his curls from behind, the line of his neck, the familiar way he slouched to the side, head resting on a balled fist as he appeared to stare at the fire. Satisfied with his coffee, he steps towards the table at war with himself, unable to act like he didn't see him but hesitant to approach as well.

"Hey," he greeted, voice still morning-thin. "Web?"

Web turns to him with no small degree of surprise, eyes wide and catching the light like the sun glinting off of the surface of a planet. He blinks at Joe in curiosity, as though it isn't 9 a.m. on a Friday, a time that usually means Web has been at work for an hour and a half and Joe doesn't work for 24 more hours. Indeed, he looks like he's dressed for work, his black pants, his buttoned shirt, the smell of him still fresh from home and a shower mingling with smell of the coffee in the air and making Joe feel hot under the collar.

"Lieb," Web said incredulously, raising a brow. "You hate coffee shops."

"You're supposed to be at work," Joe countered, sitting himself in the chair across from him despite not having been given permission to join whatever this morning reverie was.

Still watching him curiously, Web seemed caught off guard by the mention of work, and blinked fast to right himself. "Yeah, I, uh, I called in today."

Frowning, Joe raised his coffee up to his mouth and sipped at it cautiously. "Taking a mental health day, or what?"

Shrugging, Web looked morosely down towards his own cup, looking to be long empty. "I'm not going to be much use to anybody today."

Joe watched him, and watched, and watched. Dejected isn't a look he's used to seeing on Web, who runs on piss and vinegar as easily as Joe himself runs on pure spite half the time, and it doesn't look good on him. Which is saying something, as in the five plus years he's known Web there are very few things that Joe knows don't look good on him, including anger, including disgust, including all manner of faces that look ugly on a normal person but fit on Web like a glove.

He's known Web five plus years, but this year marks the second where his feelings of casual friendship for him moved hard and fast into desire.

He tries not to think about it.

"You want to talk, Web?" he ventures, voice low even in the quiet of the shop around them.

Web looks back at him with tired eyes, and Joe can see the heavy bob of his throat as he swallows down whatever unease is crawling around inside him. "I'm fine," he assured, a smile stretching up the corners of his mouth briefly, before falling weakly down like a deflated balloon.

That's about the saddest thing he's seen in the last few months.

Nodding, Joe looked down toward his shitty cup of coffee. He and Web were once very close, close enough to talk to each other about things when they went sideways, and along the line that changed without his knowledge. One day he and Web had just taken a step backward, a pane of glass between them that ever since he hasn't been able to put a crack in. They still talk, they still see each other all the time, and yet. And yet.

"You know," he started, before clearing his throat, on the edge of changing his mind, before plowing on. "I'm off today, you want to get breakfast, or something?"

Web looked back at him, mouth opening, before pursing in confusion, closing his eyes as he shook his head perfunctorily. "I'll be ok, Joe, you don't need to babysit me."

"You might be the only person I know that actively needs a babysitter, Web."

Tilting his head, Web offered him a withering look. "Fuck you."

Snickering, Joe sat forward, elbows on the table and clocking the way Web's eyes widened at the diminished space between them. "Come on," he goaded, doing his best to sound easy and relaxed with the way the other man watched him, his gaze moving between his eyes, a flash down to his mouth, to his eyes. "This coffee is shit, let's get a Bloody and an omelet somewhere."

Web holds back his smile, still watching Joe's face carefully, as though trying to catch the edge of a joke. He lets his eyes drop from Joe's face after a moment, his mouth bunching up to the side like it was physically paining him to agree to a suggestion from Joe, but he nods.

"You know what, ok," he said, before meeting Joe's eyes again with a degree more surety, a glimmer of exhilaration. "Let's go."

Joe nodded back at him, his own small victory dancing in the veins along his wrists, the center of his chest. "Let's go," he repeated, and grinned at Web's answering huff of laughter.

***

"They want to call it Schwartz and Sandy's."

"Still better than Once Upon a Tom," Web parried, sipping at the dregs of his Bloody Mary.

Joe coughed out a disbelieving sound. "You're telling me you like the name?"

Head tilting back in aggravation, Web met him again with a look of aghast conviction. "I think the name blows, but what, these are my options?"

Shoving the final bit of his toast into his mouth, he chomped at it obnoxiously just to annoy the other man, who, true to form, averted his gaze with a grimace. "You're just wrong, that's what it is. You just are."

"You're being a real Katie Maloney apologist right now."

"You're being a real misogynist right now."

"Spell misogyny, Lieb."

Pushing back from the table, Joe brought what remained of his own drink up to his mouth, shaking his head. "This is fucking why I stopped watching the shit with you, you're always wrong."

Web released a disparaging laugh. "If you remember, I stopped watching with you because all you did was complain the entire time about how much you hated everybody on the show."

"I stopped watching with you because I was tired of eating your fucking vegan pizza every week -"

"I'm not a vegan any more," Web said, his voice going up an octave to hammer home the message.

Joe practically choked on his drink in his haste to fire back. "Yeah, I stopped coming over and literally the next week you started eating normal again, were you just doing it to be a fucking asshole, or what?"

"Didn't work with communal living as well as I'd hoped," Web said, his voice lower, as though disliking the fact that he was saying it at all.

Shutting his mouth, Joe grimaced down at his drink, feeling the urge to fidget but holding himself still. "Yeah," he rasped, before clearing his throat, feeling the mood dying a slow and painful death under their table. "How is that guy, anyway?"

Web rolled his eyes. "You know his name," he sighed.

Joe knows his name. But it gives him a little spike of satisfaction straight to the gut to refuse to say it. Just calling him That Guy, or That Other Guy, made it easier to abstract him into a glorified roommate rather than the guy Web had been with for a year and a half, and who, rumor has it, has been trying to propose to him for that half.

"Yeah, but tell me how it's going," Joe said, trying not to sound too horribly put-out by the subject even getting brought up. "You guys buying credenzas, or whatever happy people do?"

Sipping the last bits of his drink, Web frowned. "This tastes super bitter all of a sudden."

"I'm not fucking bitter, you utter chad."

"Well anyways, don't be bitter over my relationship, at the very least," Web continued, setting his glass down with a decided clack against the tabletop, crossing his arms over his chest.

Joe frowned. "Bad as that?"

Web shook his head, averting his eyes to look out the window beside them, the gray sky, the passing cars. "It's fine. It's all fine."

"'And life is a long line of fine'," Joe quotes sagely, voice melodramatic.

Clicking his tongue, Web gave him a rueful side-eye. "I never should have given you that book."

"Is that why you didn't go to work?" Joe questioned, casting aside any fear of seeming nosy in his desperate bid to be nosy. "You guys have a fight?"

Looking reluctant, almost cagey, Web chewed at the inside of his cheek, eyes down. "We might have had a tense discussion last night, sure."

"What about?" Joe asked, motioning to the waitress for two more drinks before Web could bolt. "He put your Olaplex back in the wrong spot?"

"Lieb, if you're going to be a dick -"

Joe huffed out a sigh, sitting forward. "I'm sorry, I won't be a dick," he said, jaw only slightly clenched. "Tell me."

Web looked at him strangely, guarded, the way he used to when he and Joe barely knew each other beyond their friend group, when Web was just another guy getting on his case about something or other. But it fades, like the way fog used to over the bay, and his eyes become more and more clear the longer he looks at Joe's face, into his eyes like he was anchoring himself in them, finding a still point as the world turned.

"He just..." Web began, swallowing before his mouth pinched with disappointment. "He wants to go back to New York so badly."

"Do you want to go back to New York?"

"Fuck no, the only people I know in New York anymore are my family and guys who have come on my face."

Joe laughed as the waitress set down their round with nary an expression on her face, sliding his in towards himself with a shake of the head. "You tell him that?"

Groaning, Web took his own up, taking a bracing sip. "I've told him. And he hears me, he'll stay here if he has to, but he resents me for it," he said, a spark of true anger in his eyes where he met Joe, and the warmth kindled him with possibility. "I know what he's thinking, he's thinking I either have to go back to New York with him, or stay here so he can marry me."

"Would you marry that guy?" Joe asked, uncaring of his own disbelieving tone.

"I..." Web began, before closing his mouth, thinking for a long moment. "I really like him. I - I like him."

Joe blinked back at him. "...You really like him? You really like your fiancé?"

Rolling his shoulders, Web gave his head a hard shake. "He's not my fiancé."

"Clearly, Web, it sounds like you fucking hate this guy," Joe said, at once amazed and pleased.

"I don't hate him," Web cut darkly, still meeting Joe's eyes readily. "I'm just...I'm not myself with him, you know?"

Joe frowned. "What do you mean?"

Shoulders gathering up, Web sighed out a long breath, eyes falling down to the table. "I just feel like I'm acting around him all the time. Like he fell in love with an old version of me and now I'm just dragging the corpse around to please him."

"Why don't you just be yourself?" Joe said, reluctant as he could be for doling out real advice.

“I don’t think the self I am now feels the same as I once did,” Web said lowly, eyes anchored down before meeting Joe once more with a peculiar sorrow. “He doesn’t really want me as I am, you know?”

Joe cleared his throat, holding his gaze even as a hot feeling swept over the back of his neck, the mark of urgency. “He’s crazy, then.”

Web scoffed, that same weightless, balloon smile floating up before falling away over his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Joe nodded seriously, bristling at the way Web rolled his eyes in doubt. “I’m serious. You’re fucking smart, and you’re gorgeous, and you make really mean jokes, and your hair -” he cut himself off, but not in time for Web, who raised a brow in curiosity, a half smile hanging off his lips.

“What about my hair?” he prompted, his voice light.

Joe gave in, shifting and twisting in his seat to cross one arm over his chest, the other bringing in his drink to take a big sip. “It smells really nice,” he muttered, licking the residual spice from his lips, unsure if Web’s focus was on his mouth or on his face generally as he did. “You need to let me do it next time though, it needs to be shaped.”

Web ducked his head, his cheeks going pink like a painting, and Joe immediately regretted saying anything. He’s nursed this crush for so long that it’s second nature by now, as normal as checking the time, but he thinks he’s done a good job this whole time of holding it back, keeping it a secret. None of the guys know (save for Toye, he thinks, but just because the fucker is observant as anything), and Web certainly doesn’t know.

Well, he might now.

He pulls in a breath that wobbles at the center like an aspic, releasing it in a hard puff. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying. We can head out, I don’t -”

“I don’t want to leave,” Web said, looking at him earnestly, his face open.

“I - You don’t?”

“No,” Web shook his head, and he sounded so caught off guard, so wanting, that Joe even believed him. “I’m having a good time, I don’t want to leave.”

Joe opened his mouth, evaluating whether he wanted to fish for a compliment or not, before taking the plunge. “Better than home?”

Web laughed a loud sound, his eyes wide as he cast them out around them, as though looking for someone who might notice, see the evidence of his happiness and report back to his boyfriend, to his boss, that it was Friday morning and he was having a great fucking time with Joe Liebgott.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, shaking his head into it as though it would add gravitas, and Joe grinned back with the knowledge that he was digging his own grave with this.

***

They didn’t stop at breakfast. They didn’t stop until they had wandered around the neighborhood, seen a movie, and caught sight of a gas station in the twilight, a bright advertisement for pizza by the slice in the window. The place was not up to code, as Web felt the need to point out, but they lowered themselves to the curb beside the ice machine outside and ate it anyway.

“I need you to say it,” Joe say, swiping at a bit of sauce at the corner of his mouth. “Just admit it.”

Web shook his head, smiling against his own bite. “No.”

“There is no way you like that vegan shit more than you like this, be honest.”

“You know, you talk a lot of shit about vegans for a vegetarian. Why are you so exercised by this?” Web asked, a quizzical smile gracing his face as he took a bit of his crust.

Joe rolled his eyes back at him. “Exercised.”

Web nudged him with his elbow. “This is why we stopped hanging out, Lieb.”

Sighing, Joe leaned back onto the ice machine, the crust that he refused to eat in his hand as he looked at Web, his profile framed in the dying blue of the sky, the harsh glint of streetlamps already on and highlighting the almost homey edges of the parking lot. It had been a long time since they had done something like this, something one on one, something…

“Why did we?” he asked suddenly.

Web looked aside to him, swallowing down the remains of his crust with a frown. “What?”

“Stop hanging out,” Joe clarified.

Looking briefly at odds, Web turned back to the front, his lip coming to port between his teeth as he thought it over. Joe had thought of it before, the sudden space between he and Web that, for anything, he never made sense of. Maybe they had started slow, but the second they were on common ground they had taken off running with each other, to the point where Joe had thought Web might be his best friend for a while.

But it had disappeared fast. It became a little flash fire in the center of Joe’s head, the place where he kept Web, running like a golden thread all the way down his body, tangled up in his ribs, poking through his skin, between his teeth, through his hair, under his nails, until he was a gnarled knot with nothing but thoughts of another person. Nauseating, and yet gorgeous.

He’s still tangled up. His heart is in the shape of a net caught in itself.

“I think…” Web began, quiet, his head ducking down and yet accomplishing nothing as Joe stayed locked on his profile. “I think I owe you an apology.”

Joe opened his mouth, a gentle gape as he grimaced out a frown towards him. “What do you mean?”

Web took in a heavy sigh, tilting his face towards the sky, the hard white points of light no better than stars above them. “I think I stepped away,” he admitted, voice a lilting rasp of a sound in the quiet. “I didn’t mean to, but I think I did it anyway.”

“Why?” Joe pressed, a flare of defensiveness running through him.

“He would say things. Just ask why I was one way with you and another with him, things like that,” Web said, shame eating at the corners of his words like anthrax, a poison in his mouth. “I guess it made me feel guilty.”

“Are…” Joe began, halting with sudden trepidation. “Do you act around me?”

Web looked to him again at last, brow creased with concern, already shaking his head. “No, no, of course not, it’s the opposite.”

Joe shook his head, blowing an uneasy breath out. “I mean…thank you for telling me, I guess.”

“Do you hate me?” Web asked, maddeningly calm, like if Joe turned around and said Yes he would not only understand but would thank him for it.

“No, I don’t fucking hate you,” Joe huffed, scrubbing a hand over the heated back of his neck, wishing the air was cooler. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. Didn’t really expect that.”

Web shook his head, guilt over his face like an illusion veil. “I’m a bad person, I know it.”

“Jesus Christ...”

“I’m a pathetic, bad person who dates people that tell me not to be around people I like, and I listen,” Web continued, jaw clenched.

Groaning, Joe scooted closer to him along the curb, instinctively stretching his arm out to sweep around the other man’s shoulders. “Stop,” he said steadily, giving him a jostle and catching his eyes as Web’s head whipped around to look at him in surprise, the blue of his eyes ringing out at him with hope. “You’re not a bad person, you did what you thought you had to do.”

Lips pulling in, Web didn’t look like he fully believed him. “I shouldn’t have,” he said, sighing and giving one sure nod of his head. “You were a better friend to me than anyone.”

The words make him feel bizarrely light, like the first rush of nicotine, and he swallows around it like a pill. “I like being your friend most of the time.”

Web’s shoulders moved beneath him, a little wave of a laugh. “You deserve better than me.”

“Shut up,” Joe brushed off, his mouth moving before his head was ready for sense. “You’re what I want.”

His entire body clenches after the words leave his mouth, but beneath his arm Web still feels loose and alive, warm as a dream with his eyes going cool in the navy blue night that fell across the lot as they drew closer together. Web’s mouth parts gently, a familiar expression, and Joe’s own mouth waters embarrassingly at it, as though he could kiss Web, as though he could kiss Web and Web might kiss him back.

“You mean it?” Web asks, gentle.

Joe swallowed, pulling his eyes away from the sight of Web’s mouth, falling instead back into his eyes. “I always did,” he said lowly, heedless of the weight of his own voice, sinking deep like a stone into Web’s waters.

Web closed his mouth, an almost stricken expression crossing his face as he blinked hard and turned his gaze forward, away from the surveillance of Joe’s eyes.

“He knew that, too,” he said under his breath, a gentle shiver ghosting along the blades of his shoulders, moving along Joe’s arm and electrocuting through his own body in turn.

Giving his head a hard, clearing shake, Joe pulled his arm back just slightly, pressing his palm in the center of Web’s back and giving him a rough rub up and down. “Are you cold?”

Sighing, Web’s face remained out of Joe’s field of vision, the way he curved into Joe’s hand the only tell that he welcomed the touch. “I am, a little bit.”

“Do you want to come over?” he asks, again letting his mouth do the thinking for him, unwilling to let the night end after they finally broke this ground. “Have a drink?”

Web finally turned back to him, his face still creased with tension, with despondency. “Even after everything?” he questioned, mouth tilting in a self-deprecating half-smile, the light catching onto it like a crescent moon.

Joe’s chest burned for him. He hated that he burned for him, hated that he could have heard any reason for their invisible boundary and he would have forgiven Web instantly anyway. It makes him feel weak, it makes him feel as flimsy as a petal ready to fall off a dying flower. But he learned a long time ago this isn’t something he can just stop feeling overnight.

“Doesn’t have to bother us if we don’t let it,” he said, astonished at his own clarity, the way it popped up in his life at the strangest of times.

His half smile turned full, a beloved, soft thing that Joe had watched across rooms for a year, admired, and missed, and went hungry for.

“Ok,” Web nodded.

***

Web folds into his apartment as easily as he ever did, not even having to be told to take off his shoes before he comes in the way all the other guys have to, setting himself on the side of the gray couch that still bore the wine stain from when they had imbibed too much on a Saturday night two years ago. Even the cat seemed to remember how well he fit into Joe’s life, leaping up to briefly rub at him, accept a pet or three, and then fade away back to her hiding place. The sight of him here after so long, the lamplight over his skin as he rolled up his sleeves, makes Joe feel briefly disoriented, almost high.

But exhilarated most of all.

The TV is on, not that he watches it. The cushion of sound presses against the lilt of their conversation, gentle even in solitude as they sip at their beers, and Joe is aware more and more that it’s dark and getting darker outside, that Web has an apartment with another guy he’s supposed to go back to, and yet he doesn’t move. He stays right where he is, his shoulder pressed close to Joe’s, his warmth stationary, comforting, his eyes on Joe with curiosity, with humor, with flashes of something he’s too afraid (too hopeful) to act like he notices.

“They only make you do it because you’re the best driver,” Web said with a smile, head back against the cushion.

Joe rolled his eyes, feeling pleased at the thought nonetheless. “I don’t know about that, but thanks.”

Web nudged him, his shoulder landing against Joe’s and staying there, his eyes challenging, teasing. “It’s true,” he insisted, and his breath was just a ghost over Joe’s face, and yet he was pulled by it. “I’ll never forget you driving in that blizzard.”

“That was not a blizzard.”

“There was almost two feet of snow on the freeway at 2 a.m., and you conducted yourself very professionally,” Web said surely, a brow raised.

Relaxing back into the contact, feeling like he was practically slumping against Web’s shoulder in his ease, Joe let himself walk backwards into the memory. “I remember staying the night at your apartment.”

Chucking, Web nodded. “You spent more than a night, it was a blizzard.”

“I remember that night,” Joe continued, finding himself smiling into the thought, like his head was a big picture window out over the memory, saturated with time. “It was so cold, and the heat in the car wasn’t doing a thing for it. And then we got to your place, and you put your feet right over the radiator in the dark.”

Web’s eyes drifted around his face, his smile falling into just a gentle thing, like a shadow over his face. “I miss that radiator.”

“And you told me…” Joe though, tilting his head softly, back into the sofa, he and Web’s faces close where they rested against each other. “You told me all about this book you were reading, and I put my feet up next to yours to get them warm.”

A sigh moved through Web’s mouth, his body seeming to sink in towards Joe even further, and he felt a thrum of fear in his gut. Fear because Web has a boyfriend, and an apartment, and he might go to New York, and he’s not going to give any of that up, he’s not -

“I loved that night,” Web murmured.

“Web…” Joe trailed, searching for words, before letting the fight die in his veins, a slow turn of his head brushing the tip of their noses.

Eyes closing momentarily, Web sighed at the ghost of the feeling, moving in towards it with his own cautious tilt of the head. “Lieb…”

He’s not going to. “Don’t do that,” Joe cautioned, voice a gentle rasp as their noses brushed.

“What?” Web asked, eyes heavy-lidded, hot and cold at once, duality and brilliance.

Joe couldn’t pull away if he wanted to, the swallow moving through his throat hot, his mouth parting so, so close to Web’s own. Close enough to feel in danger, close enough to have every dream of Web he’d ever had hammering up against his collarbone. “Don’t act like you’re going to do something when you know you’re not,” he choked, his words patting over Web’s mouth like rain drops.

Web’s mouth tilted in towards his own, and his voice was as rich as velvet. “What am I not going to do?”

He can’t hold himself back.

It’s like he falls, and Web catches him. Their mouths slot together as easy as breathing, and Web’s lips are plush, warm and softened with just the gentlest trace of moisture, the taste of beer at the corners that Joe chases after. He hums into it, mostly to keep himself from pulling away and crying out in victory, in joy, and melts in towards Web, who pushes against his pressure eagerly, kissing the corner of Joe’s mouth tenderly, the way he dreamed he might. Just as a test, he brought his hand up to curve bracingly around the side of Web’s neck, holding him in place so Joe could kiss him the slightest bit harder, their lips smacking over each other.

A soft, wanting sound escaped from between Web’s lips, and he opened his mouth to pull in a short gasp of air, welcoming Joe’s tongue with a moan, a hand sweeping up through his hair and grasping hard, then soft. Web’s mouth was hot, sweet, his tongue smooth where they slid against each other, and he groaned at the sensation, the burst of pleasure it sent all the way down his body.

It’s everything, it is everything.

Impulsively, Joe swung a leg over his hip to angle up above him, sweeping in to kiss him deep again, sitting down over the heat of the other man’s lap. He kisses across Web’s mouth, to his cheek, to his ear, biting impulsively at the lobe and relishing the hiss of sound that escaped beneath him before attaching his lips to the side of the other man’s neck.

“Joe…” Web rasped, his hands scraping and scratching down Joe’s back before sweeping back up to grasp at his neck, his hair.

He kissed wetly at his neck, feeling hot as he moved over Web, testing the waters, feeling himself coming alive, the walls of his mind fogging up with heat. With a hard sound, he opened his mouth to run the edge of his teeth over the skin of Web’s neck.

Gasping, the hand in his hair clenched. “Joe -”

Joe shuddered over him, rocking down and teasing the skin beneath his teeth, warm from his mouth and pale, ready for him, ready for -

He bit down, hard enough for a tease to become a demand.

“Oh!” Web cried out, the hand in Joe’s hair leaving abruptly, clawing at the air. “Joe, st - Oh, fuck,” he gasped, Joe tonguing restlessly at his neck, the faintest touch of heat over his tongue as blood gathered to the point of his bite. “Oh, God, Lieb,” he choked, the hand against Joe’s neck suddenly pressing, pushing at him even as he licked over the bite. “Stop, please.”

It’s like ice flooding through his veins, the warmth of their bodies rendered cold by the words, and he pulls away from Web’s neck to look down into his flushed, dazed face. He looks up at Joe, his mouth parted, pink and puffed from their rough kissing, his eyes electric and charged with fear, fear, fear.

“Please,” he repeated, his voice a tight tremble.

It’s shame like he’s never felt before, embarrassment falling over his shoulders as heavy as a winter coat, and he moves off of the other man’s lap with stiff, horrible movements. He shoves himself to the corner of the couch, giving Web all the room he needs as he caught his breath, one hand coming up to press over the bite mark.

He ruined it. He hadn’t even known.

“I’m sorry,” he tried, voice weak.

“No, I -” Web started, before clearing his throat, pulling in a long, unsteady breath. “I’m going to go.”

Joe frowned at him, a crushing feeling collapsing through him like a sinkhole of pure darkness. “Web, come on,” he shook his head, feeling helpless as the other man got to his feet. “I’m sorry -”

He was gone from the room before Joe could truly start begging him.

It only takes him another few seconds of wallowing in self–loathing on the couch to launch to his feet and follow after him, never minding that he had kissed Web, who had a boyfriend, or that Web had asked him to stop. All he thought of was that he had just gotten Web back, after a year and a half, and a whole day of breaking down the wall between them, and he wasn’t going to lose him now after finally getting a taste of him. It wouldn’t happen in his world.

Web stood, shoes on, hand against the doorknob, and Joe speaks fast, voice rough.

“Don’t go to New York with him.”

The other man’s back stiffens, his shoulders rolling with anxiety, before he turns to face Joe with a dark, expectant expression on his face. God, he’s beautiful, he’s the fucking worst, he has no right and yet Joe has to fight for him anyway.

“Stay here,” he said, his voice thankfully strong, solid against the storm in his blood. “Be with me.”

Web raised a brow. “Are you being mean right now?”

“What the f- No, I’m not being fucking mean,” Joe coughed, feeling like a bobble-head as he stared back at Web. “I’m completely serious right now.”

Mouth parting, Web still looked doubtful, afraid. Swallowing heavily, he turned back to face the door, turning the lock out of its place, and Joe moved again without thinking, striding forward to put his hand against the door, pushing against it with only minimal force.

“Please just reject me,” he sighed, locked onto the side of Web’s face, his tight jaw, his downturned eyes. “I’m fucking begging you, ok? Tell me to fuck off, I will, but I can’t keep torturing myself like this, I can’t be alone like this anymore -”

“You haven’t been,” Web murmured.

Joe blinked, trying to parse out the meaning of his words. “What?”

Pulling in a sharp breath, Web finally met his eyes again, and in the half-light of the doorway they were dark, wanting. “You haven’t been alone in this.”

It’s incomprehensible. It’s laughable. But if it’s true then he could die in this moment the happiest motherfucker on the planet.

This time they hesitate towards one another, Web licking at his lips with an unknown anxiety, Joe feeling half a step away from bolting at the first sign of his displeasure. Where they meet it’s almost painfully soft, and he shakes into it like a tree in the wind, braced against Web’s warmth, the pillar of his tenderness. It’s chaste, gently wet as he kisses over Web’s lips once, twice, over and over as he doesn’t pull away, making gentle, pleased noises between their mouths.

He nuzzles at Web’s cheek, wanting nothing more than to kiss his neck, but holding back. In its place he puts his face in Web’s hair, breathing him in with deep lungful's, sighing them out at the touch of the other man’s hand on his neck.

“I can’t sleep with you,” Web said quietly, a strange sadness soaked through his voice. “It would make me feel bad to sleep with you, Joe.”

Joe swallowed down his mild disappointment, brushing it aside with a kiss to Web’s hair. “I understand,” he said, feeling the way the other man shuddered at his breath along the shell of his ear. “But will you stay?”

The hand on his neck guided his head back forward, and Web looked at him searchingly, a man in uncharted waters, the sky growing dark above him. With a heavy breath he let his head fall to rest over Joe’s shoulder, and Joe wrapped his arms around him thankfully, holding him closer than close, close enough to beat to each other’s hearts. He breathed him in, held him in his chest, unwilling to release him but doing so gratefully just to take in more, and he couldn’t fathom how lucky he was in this moment, as though every star in the sky aligned, spelled their names out like eternal skywriting.

“I have to go now,” Web said, voice soft as he lifted his head to look reluctantly into Joe’s eyes. “I just do.”

Biting at his lip, that same sinking feeling fell through his chest, shallow and yet sharp. “Alright,” he nodded, a little jerking motion.

Web stepped back, out of the circle of Joe’s arms, his hand withdrawing back from his skin slowly, a lingering trail of torment across his neck. They held each other’s eyes as Web reached for the lock again, turned it, and opened the door.

“It was good to see you, Joe,” Web said, earnest, his eyes alight with awful want.

Joe wanted to say it all, wanted to let the past few years of watching him, wanting him, hoping for him fall out of his mouth like rose-colored bile, but he can’t let himself. Not here, with Web standing in his doorway looking at him like one word from Joe could shatter his whole universe.

“You too, David,” he managed, trying for gentleness.

It looks like the words shatter Web’s universe anyway, and he stares at Joe with wide blue eyes, head nodding, and his mouth parted to pull at the air. He turns with a fast motion, pulling his face away, and Joe watches him walk away until he can’t any longer, until Web is nothing but sounds going down his stairs, a series of creaks and slams.

And then he shuts the door.

Shuts the door, goes back inside, and lays down on the couch, his face pressed down beside the wine stain that Web had left all those years ago, the mark of his hands over Joe’s life a bruised red, a bloody kiss.

***

He’s awoken before his alarm, and the disorientation briefly throws him off the realization that he has to go in to work today. Quickly he realizes that he had passed out on the couch, the cat snuggled up against his stomach where he laid on his side, and his phone was buzzing insistently on the coffee table beside him.

“Christ,” he croaked, reaching for it with numb, heavy hands.

He notes the time before he notes anything, and spits a harsh sound at the cruel display of 8 a.m. he finds. But then he clocks the name of the incoming caller, and his stomach drops out from his ass like he’d jumped from a plane.

Swiping into the call, he brought the phone to his ear so fast he practically smacked himself with it. “Web?”

“Joe,” he answered, and even across their distance he sounded rich, warm. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no,” Joe shook his head, sitting up on the couch and jostling the cat to aggrieved wakefulness. “What’s up?”

A brief pause, before the sound of a sigh. “I know this is asking a lot of you,” he began, slow and intentional, but with the distinct markings of a smile. “But do you want to go for coffee right now?”

A dumbstruck smile spread over his face, and Joe would have agreed to anything, gone anywhere he asked him to, including and especially coffee shops. “Give me 30 minutes,” he said, the happiness of his voice radiating through his chest, his head, and down the line of the phone. “I’ll be there.”

[egg-emperor]

What was your first and favorite sonic game? How about least favorite? My guesses are: Spinball for first, SA2 for favorite, 06 for least favorite.

My first Sonic game was Sonic Heroes and I'm also admittedly biased because I've also always said that it's my favorite Sonic game. And yeah, it's not the perfect game because I don't even like how they handled my favorite character when they tossed him aside, but the fun level designs, gameplay, music, and characters in it made the game an enjoyable first impression to me and made me want to get into the series. Especially the small amounts of Eggman included because seeing less of him but liking his design and the small moments of him and his mostly off screen involvement in Chaotix's story made me want to see more of him.

When I replay Sonic Heroes annually I still have a blast to this day, the slippery controls can be annoying for everyone but it doesn't stop me from having fun and beating the game, so it doesn't make me dislike replaying it. (I also LOVE Secret Rings, so bad controls never piss me off much - except for the physically painful to play Free Riders lmfao) The story is simplistic but that's okay and the only part I have really big complaints about is how they did Eggman dirty. But I still have a lot of love for the game overall and it's very special to me, and yeah nostalgia definitely plays a big part in it because I have very special memories with it.

I'm also biased with Shadow 2005 being my second favorite because of it being another of the first games I played about the same time I played Sonic Mega Collection on the PS2, I got to see a lot more of voiced and animated Eggman than Heroes (I still love classic Egg in all the games I played in the Mega Collection but my fascination turned massive crush developed from voiced and animated modern especially lol) and even despite the game also doing him dirty especially in three endings, he had moments and dialogue I adore and I have very special memories. Eggman had wasted potential in the Shadow androids concept and manipulation of Shadow but I loved the ideas and some of his scenes, attitude, and performance from Mike Pollock.

If I hadn't played Heroes and Shadow 2005 first, Adventure 2 would be my favorite Sonic game and that's why it's third on my five favorite games. I love the gameplay, the story telling, the characters, ALL THE EGGMAN and his super fun gameplay, the amazing exciting villainous moments from him, and Deem Bristow. 🥰💜💕💖💗 And Adventure would be my second favorite game for very similar reasons. I have tons of love for and have put many hours into both over the years. Sure, they're very popular choices but I'll never feel that the games are overrated, I think they're both such loved games for good reason. The whole Adventure era that I consider being from Adventure 1 to Shadow 2005 is my favorite.

As for my least favorite - I'd say it's pretty much a tie between 06 and Rise of Lyric. I've replayed 06 many times for a laugh but there's always suffering involved too and I don't feel I've been too harsh on it to this day - except for 06 Eggman because movie jimbotnik was so unsexy and bland to me that the first time I replayed 06 after watching the first movie, I was like wow why did 06 Eggman suddenly go from a weird looking stranger to me that I couldn't see as Eggman to being so sexy and lovable and so Eggman way more than jimbotnik could be to me? 😳 lmfao the gameplay is boring and frustrating to me except for Egg Wyvern and it's so not because of Eggman or anything hehehe 😍 ahhh so gay 🙄 Julian shut up shsjfbsmgnskh And most of the story is meh Idc save for a couple of moments and any time Eggman speaks because I'm biased and lovestruck lol. And it has pretty CG cutscenes and a pretty slapping soundtrack, I can give it that at least alongside Eggman. But it's not enough to say I like the actual game when the gameplay is not fun for me unless I'm laughing at how bad it is.

But the reason I tie it with Rise of Lyric is because I can also be biased about the Eggman moments (like he's funny and fruity and I like Mike Pollock's performance but his actual role in the story was pretty bad and I'm not as big of a fan of an Eggman that doesn't have a balance of funny and more serious and villainous, he was really just funny) but I don't like literally anything else about the story, the humor was more cringe than any Pontaff jokes ever were, the soundtrack was so forgettable, the cutscenes were poor in quality, it's sooo boring to play even when it was two player with my bro, and I got just as frustrated with it as 06 for some level and gameplay design choices.

I could also put Shattered Crystal and Fire and Ice as being amongst the worst too but I don't care about them enough to rate. The Boom games just really didn't need to happen as a whole lol. And I also found them so boring I gave up on them and just watched on YouTube instead and thought yeah these games aren't worth beating to me. So I don't think I've played enough to fully rate them but I'd say they're amongst the worst, meanwhile I've beaten 06 and RoL so I feel like I actually can there.

[vegalocity]

The more I learn about Min Yi the more I love her. (I'll tell you about my fankids once actually I write stuff down about them lol) Though now I'm curious about this sister you gave Syntax. Got a general idea of what she's like? - Pixel Anon

Okay so, ngl the sister was made exclusively so I wouldn't have to consider how Minyi stays in the same apartment for detective reasons despite her dad being missing-presumed-dead. Grandparents (AKA Syntax's parents) would probably just take her to their own home which would make the detective stuff SO much harder, and i tried researching how foster care works in China but it instantly felt like I was going too dark for it.

So in the end giving him a sibling was the most prudent choice. Someone far enough from the situation as to not really be involved until she took in Minyi, but also close enough to the situation that she didn't want to uproot the poor kid before it had even processed in her head that her Auntie was gonna be taking care of her now and also mourn her apparently dead brother at the same time.

And I went with sister because... well who DOESN'T like the 'Cool Older Sister' trope?

I don't have a name for her just yet. And I can playfully get around that, because to Minyi she's just 'Auntie' and Syntax... this is like super embarrassing, but he doesn't actually remember her name??? His memory is so full of holes rn it's a minor miracle he remembers her at all, but he's so mortified he can't remember his own sister's name that he's gonna REFUSE to ask until he remembers on his own. So right now she's just 'Sis'

(she knows btw, but her brother's been stubborn since he was literally a toddler so if she told him it'd just piss him off and she thought he was dead for long enough that she's willing to play along.)

I get a sort of 'woodsy cool girl' vibe from her, like Wendy Corduroy 20 years in the future or so.Like she didn’t live in the city at first, she probably had a house somewhere in the woods thats a pain in the ass to get to and was chillin, just living alone.

I feel like Aunt Sis deffo wasn't going to have kids or even get married, and was content in her solitude; but of course was Super Stoked when her brother told her he and his partner were expecting a kid. She was DOWN to be the Cool Aunt whom only shows up on Birthdays and holidays, brings awesome presents, gets drunk, and tell embarrassing childhood stories until her twig of a brother has to try and wrastle her to get her to stop. which he would fail to do and his children would cheer her on as she put their daddy into a headlock.

And then whatever happened to his partner/Minyi's other parent.. happened. And You know, whichever way it went it's fucked up, so Aunt Sis kinda tried to just...be there for her brother, because he clearly needs SOMEONE around whose not his infant daughter.

So when, about five years later, Minyi is doing her homework at a table at school because she always has to stay at school a little later because Daddy works long hours, she realizes that...he's... not here yet. It's WAY later than it usually is when he comes to get her. Daddy's never been THIS late before. The teachers are whispering to eachother about 'secondary contacts'.

It's Auntie that picks her up from school, looking upset and furious. She tells her that she's gonna kick her daddy's butt when she gets hold of him, but right now they're going home because it's almost dinner time and she must be hungry (she was)

At first Aunt Sis had assumed that her brother had just finally cracked, that the stress of all the shit he'd been suppressing in order to be as good of a dad as possible to Minyi finally wore him down and she was gonna hunt down her brother in the middle of the mother of all mental breakdowns. But then he just... never turns up. A missing persons case turns presumed dead and filed away as never solved.

By the time New Years hits Aunt Sis has already resigned herself to motherhood.

Needless to say when her neice comes home from school one day with her fucking brother, still alive, his hair and eyes BRIGHT green, his skin FUCKING PURPLE, and for a moment it seems like he doesn't even know who she is, she's got.... Questions.

and a lot of yelling to get out of her system.

[plague-of-insomnia]

I totally get your point. Like... the whole feed your creators, we're starving, thing started to get momentum, then it was pushed back by people doing a mix of bringing up valid concerns, like, some people have social anxiety and struggle with commenting because of that, but then it got into... creators are ungrateful for voicing that they need interaction and :/

It takes a lot of emotional real estate to say, no, I should be getting feedback on my things that I spent hours doing too and everyone who is pushing back and claiming that real estate is doing such a good job. It's incredibly disheartening to spent hours, weeks, months, years, working on a project and then people can't even be bothered to hit a kudos button.

Like, I'm not super popular, and I write niche things and shorter things, which both get less hits, and even less feedback. But when my most popular fic, which sits at 2k hits, only has 89 kudos, not even comments, just hitting a button kudos, it's aggravating and makes me feel unappreciated.

My most kudos'd fic has ~725 hits and 172 kudos. My most popular fic is ranked fifth for kudos, fourth for that fandom. (The other three have 955 hits, 116 kudos and 642 hits, 103 kudos and 769 hits, 99 kudos. A fraction of 2k hits.)

And the fic, although it leaves a lot to be desired, isn't even bad, so it's not clicking out because it's hot garbage lol. It's about average quality, because it's five years old and I grew a lot as a writer. I just do not get it lol, and looking at and comparing stats like that really drags out how lacking engagement is.

Thankfully, on tumblr, most of y'all leave comments on the post or in tags, which I love and appreciate and save each one

{In reference to this post}

@gabedemon, I apologize for taking awhile to respond to this as I was trying to collect my thoughts because I know this is a hot-button issue and I really don’t want to make anyone think I’m trying to attack them personally or anything.

I honestly was so relieved to get this ask because tbf that post pissed me off.

I’m understanding but I’ve already done just about everything that I can to be accommodating, and I still don’t get many comments.

I know this isn’t just my problem, because I know that more popular writers who write more “mainstream” stuff have also had issues with lack of feedback/interaction.

I have 15 works on AO3 right now (not counting 2 bc they’re not really only mine), and only FOUR have more than 100 kudos. Only one has over 200.

I’m aware that what I write isn’t for everyone. I tend to be interested in more niche/fandom-divergent topics and I love writing rarepairs. I’m also painfully aware that I have been unable to post much writing at all, and none on AO3 in several months.

But I’ll admit that it’s not only the lack of comments, but poor interaction on tumblr that has made me increasingly frustrated.  It’s such a struggle for me to write anything right now, and I’m always so happy and proud when I am able to share something here even if it’s just a little taste, only to get almost no reblogs for my writing.

For example, for my most recent snippets and such that I’ve posted lately, these are my stats:

6 likes / 4 reblogs (50% of which are me)

6 likes/ 4 reblogs (75% are me)

18 likes/ 7 reblogs (29% are me)

31 likes / 8 reblogs (25% are me)

16 likes/ 13 reblogs (46% are me)

19 likes/ 12 reblogs (17% are me) - this one is from last year

I’m super grateful for the people who have continued to support me and be excited about my work despite my limitations over the past year, but at the same time, I’ve become really frustrated by how few people in the fandom bother to reblog my writing.

I have tried my hardest since joining the fandom 3 years ago to be as supportive as I can of other creators, and I know I’m not churning out the main OTP content, but I still feel really disappointed when I can’t even get a RB of a snippet or ficlet.

I don’t write for comments and I don’t support others because I want something out of it.

But after awhile, not getting that support back, even with something as simple as a RB, starts to wear.

I know the kuro fandom has been pretty dead (especially on tumblr) lately, and I’m really appreciative of those who DO regularly interact with my posts, send asks, reblog, etc.

I really have been putting off saying most of this for a long time because I didn’t want it to think like I was trying to be a whiny, entitled brat or anything... maybe this response doesn’t even make sense or came off awful despite my best attempts.

And I’m sorry if any of this comes off as manipulative or guilt tripping or anything as that isn’t my intent (and part of why I’ve stayed silent about this more or less for months), but seeing that post just reminded me all over again.