#if someone found out I blocked them because the way they voice their opinions is annoying it's gonna be awkward for both of us

[sonadowfujoshi]

to spell it out: no I do not want to make a new twitter account at present I just do not care

[violettwrites]

trust i seek, and i find in you — daryl dixon

a/n: hi guys ! sorry it’s been a little while, i’ve honestly not had much motivation but i managed to get this out for the person that requested ! i think i may have a little writers block, but i’m gonna try and rewatch twd to help me out with my inspo 🫶🏻 i apologise that it’s short, but hey, what can we do !

if you enjoy my writing, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment ! your support always means the world to me 🫶🏻 requests are currently closed, but i will be opening them up soon hopefully !

summary: daryl thinks he isn’t good enough for you because he’s too “old”

requested: @/nuhogom requested; could you do an age gap fic with daryl? reader is well into her/their 20’s though!! i’d love a secret relationship too! maybe if it’s set in twd, it’s because daryl is still kinda insecure etc.

warnings: none ! a bit of angst maybe???

word count: 879

resources: divider by @/adornedwithlight

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it was late at hilltop, and the faint hum of crickets mixed with the occasional groan of a walker beyond the walls. inside, everything felt peaceful. you sat in your little trailer, curled beneath a blanket, waiting for daryl. he didn’t stop by every night, much to your dismay, but you could always sense when he would. there was something between you—something electric, fragile, and unspoken, like a current neither of you dared disturb.

a soft knock echoed through the quiet, followed by the slow creak of the door opening. there he was, crossbow slung over his shoulder, eyes a mix of stoic and softened by the dim light of your trailer. his gaze found yours immediately, warm and inviting.

“thought you weren’t comin’,” you said, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as you watched him, your eyes tracing every one of his movements.

“had to finish a run for tara,” he muttered, voice low and gravelly. he didn’t need to explain further—his presence was enough. it always had been. words had never been necessary between the two of you.

you’d been seeing each other for months now, in secret. daryl, being in his forties, knew that people would talk if they found out. they’d whisper, judge, say you were too young for him, too bright for someone as worn as him. he hated the idea of being the one to pull you into those whispers, to tarnish you with their judgments. but at the same time, he couldn’t stay away.

you didn’t care about any of that, though. not in a world like this. what did other people’s opinions matter when survival was all that was left?

“no one’s gonna know,” you whispered, sitting up a bit and placing a hand on his arm. “it’s just us here.”

he hesitated, glancing away for a moment before his eyes settled back on you. “it ain’t right. yer young. people’ll talk, make it worse.”

you could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his need to protect you warred with his desire to be close. but you weren’t a kid anymore. you were capable of making your own decisions, and you had chosen him.

“i don’t care what they think,” you said softly but firmly. “none of that matters. i care about you—that’s all i need.”

daryl sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he shook his head, but his hand found yours. his fingers, rough and calloused from years of surviving, wrapped gently around yours. he pulled you closer, tucking you under his arm as you leaned into him, your head resting against his chest. his other arm came around you, solid and protective, as though he were the only thing standing between you and the chaos of the world outside.

“don’t know why you want someone like me,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you.

you tilted your head to look up at him, his expression clouded with doubt. “i want someone like you because you’re kind, and you care more than you let on. you see me for who i am, not for who people think i should be.”

his brow furrowed slightly, the weight of your words sinking in. it wasn’t often that anyone took the time to look past the walls he kept up, and fewer still bothered to try.

you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “stop worrying about them. it’s just us.”

daryl didn’t reply, but his arms tightened around you, pulling you in until you were practically in his lap. your head rested against his chest, and you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, a sound that brought you more comfort than you ever thought possible.

his fingers slowly combed through your hair as the silence stretched between you, easy and familiar. your eyes drifted closed, feeling the tension seep out of him as his body relaxed against yours. this was a side of him no one else saw—vulnerable, unguarded, and you cherished it, every rare moment of it.

time seemed to blur, the rest of the world fading away as you sat there together. daryl’s hand never stopped moving through your hair, his touch so tender it was hard to believe it came from someone so hardened by life.

“i ain’t good at this,” he mumbled after a while, his voice low and almost apologetic. “don’ know how to do relationships—how to… be what you need.”

you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. “you’re already everything i need, daryl.”

his eyes softened at your words, the usual tension in his features melting away. he leaned in slowly, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your lips. it wasn’t rushed, as though he wanted to savor every second, commit it all to memory.

when you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, breathing him in. “i’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “not unless you want me to.”

he shook his head, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “ain’t ever gonna want that.”

your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, nestling back into his chest, his arms keeping you close, holding onto you like you were his anchor in the storm.

and for now, that was all that mattered.

[mimisplayground]

Jealous Jealous Jealous Boy ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

Tags: Hookups, Jealous Toji, Rough Sex, Dumbification, all fully consented!!, Orgasm denial briefly, dacryphilia, Mean Toji

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Toji Fushiguro was a lot of things.

A womanizer.

A sleaze.

A bum.

And most importantly to you, a great fuck.

Which was really all you cared about, if you had to think about it. When he was behind you, and his pace was downright cruel, you found yourself caring very little about the rest of the things that Toji was.

Because out of the two men you kept on speed dial for a quick hook up, Toji was certainly the one you frequented most. His thrusts bordered onto brutal and the huffs and groans he made when you two were fucking like dogs in heat, it was nothing short of pure bliss in your opinion.

And there was rarely any real talking involved. Small words exchanged before he would demolish you and then leave. The other hook up was better at talking. But you really shouldn’t be thinking about that guy. Speak of the devil and all of that.

Though, you had a feeling the real devil was the man behind you, when you caught a glimpse of the frown on his face as he stared at your now ringing phone. And yeah, maybe “Quick Hookup #2” wasnt the most discreet name, but how were you supposed to know you would have to be discreet on your own phone? The glare Toji had was deadly, and his thrusts had completely stopped.

A silence overtook the room at that point, the phone finally finished ringing before a ding spiked through the silence. You hear Toji hum to himself, reading off the text in his head before his voice, with a cruel tone to it, read it out loud. “Had fun last night babe, wanna link again tonight…” he finished off like it was just something in the news.

You quickly go to crawl away, caught off guard by the hand that pushes you down, and stayed firm on your back. “Why you runnin’ away, babe?” His voice downright murderous and you could only let out what could be described as a squeak in response.

When your silence rang out, Toji laughed. An insincere, mean, and angry laugh. And when his hips snapped forward and you let out a harsh wail at the unexpected movement, the laugh turned to more of a growl.

“Now you wanna make a noise,” He huffs, your phone abandoned and both hands gripping your hips harshly “now that I’m fucking you the way you needed, ain’t that right slut?” His words are cruel and his thrusts are even crueler. Your moans and sobs are echoing through the room, barely able to get louder than the slapping of skin.

The room smelled of sex and sweat and you couldn’t possibly think straight, nothing could fix the almost broken babble streaming out of your mouth. Small and pitiful pleas of “sorry” “didn’t mean it” “gonna cum” and indecipherable babble between it. A tiny please peaking through some of the rambling if you listened hard enough.

“Oh you’re sorry? Sorry but you’re still begging for this dick, fucking whore.” He grunts out, his grip getting tight enough that you could expect bruises there in the morning. And right as you were at the peak, teetering that edge, he stopped.

You let out a broken sob, pleading for him to continue before your phone was held in front of your face, with “Quick Hookup #2” pulled up on your phone in your contacts. “Block ‘em. Or I’ll quit fucking you right now.” Toji said firmly, letting your hands grasp the phone and fumble with it, dropping it once or twice before finally managing to click the block button.

When your phone was pulled from your hands, you let out a sigh of relief as the thrusts picked up again. “If I ever find out you go fucking someone else again, I’ll kill them and fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name.” He huffed, and then the brutal thrusts started again, and his skin slapped against yours. And even as you reached your peak this time, he didn’t stop.

He fucked you through your first orgasm and sent you hurdling straight towards a second one, dismissing your twitches to get away in favor of your pleads for more coming from your mouth.

And that night you learned something else about Toji Fushiguro that you never knew before.

He was an extremely jealous man.

——————-

I HOPE YOU ALL LOVED IT!! DIFFERENT FROM WHAT IVE WRITTEN BUT STILL!! HOPE IT WAS AMAZING!! TELL ME IF U WANT MORE!!

[lausaivrse]

Hoshina Soshiro x fem reader.

They're married but when Soshiro gets home he was surprised that his wife didn't greet him he got worried so he called out to his wife.

Then....

I'll happily let you decide on the "surprised" anything at all 😉✨

WHERE’S MY WIFE? ft. soshiro hoshina

━━━━ ✦ pairings. husband! soshiro x wife!fem! reader.

━━━━ ✦ warnings. nothing really, maybe bad writing(?) currently in writers block and i forgot how to write a story. reader is safe and she is only sleeping lol. soshiro panics bc he thought his wifey was gone + maybe typos because your girlie is a fast typer

━━━━ ✦ synopsis. coming home from work was one of soshiro's favourite part of his day but what will happen if he founds out his wife wasn't in their shared home?

━━━━ ✦ notes. Ack! my first ask:D i tried to make this better but since it's been a year since i made a story and not chatfics it's pretty much bad but will probably improve in the future! hope you guys enjoy this though < 3 i love Soshiro sm:( and sorry if this is so short lol i run out of ideas.

coming home from work was one of SOSHIRO's favourite part of his day, the best part of coming home? seeing his beloved wife of course! after all you're his comfort and solace and what's better than coming home and plopping into your arms while you whisper sweet nothings into his ear and soothe his sore body from all that fighting?

the door of your shared home was clicked open, sliding the door swiftly with a huge smile on his face and he was ready to meet you in the kitchen as you greet him a “welcome home!” every time he walks right in through the door but something feels different.

the room was silent the usual sound of your sweet humming, the sound of sizzling of the food you were making for dinner and the sound of your favorite music blasting through the kitchen wasn't there. it was. . quiet.

awfully quiet in SOSHIRO's opinion, he wasn't used to this at all. normally you would greet him and pamper him with kisses and prepare dinner for the two of you but no — it was just pure silence that envelope the whole room, no warmth, no sounds of music blasting on repeat. . nothing at all.

SOSHIRO isn't someone who would panic immediately he was a laid back person but something about the eerie silence makes him feel anxious, what if you left him because you we're tired of him not coming home because of his job? what if you went out for groceries and got attacked by a kaiju—? surely, that wasn't the case right? nothing horrible happened right? it was all just a prank to get back at him, nothing more.

but that still didn't soothe his worries the silence was still there - and he hates every single second he was in the doorway. he doesn't like the silence of the room - it was lacking your warmth, it was lacking the sound of your favorite song repeating and it don't sit right with him at all.

“My love? are you there? I'm home.”

SOSHIRO tried calling out for you but instead of getting a response from you - all he received was silence, no response from you at all. did you fall while waiting for him? maybe that's it - you're just sleeping! yeah, that's it. nothing bad happened.

He slowly made his way upstairs, praying to god that you we're only sleeping due to how late he was on arriving home. his steps were heavy, his heart was beating fast and his hands were sweaty - he hopes and hopes that you are safe and sound is only sleeping. he softly knocks on the door of your shared room, checking if he gets any response from you somehow.

“[name], love? are you there, baby?”

SOSHIRO's voice was shaky he was anxious about the whole thing, vulnerable even. he wish nothing had happened - god forbid if one single strand of your hair gets misplaced he will seriously slice them with his blade. for what seem like eternity, as if his prayers were answered he heard the sound of soft snoring coming from the inside of the room.

he opened the door faster than the wind and just like how he thought you we're on your shared bed - sleeping so soundly and peacefully without a care in the world, SOSHIRO's breathing calmed down as he walked towards the bed his footsteps were light, careful not to stir you awake from your deep slumber as if he was taking care of something so vulnerable.

the mattress creaked a little bit as he sat down next to your sleeping form, his hands were shaky as he traced the softness of your face reassuring himself that you were here with him and in a safe place it didn't take long for a genuine soft smile formed in your husband's face before he pressed a kiss on your forehead as he slipped inside the blanket along with you not even bothering to change his clothes before mumbling a small “goodnight, my love. sleep well.” as he drifted off to sleep with you by his side.

glad to say that you are going to make up for scaring him by giving your undivided attention.

xiaolia writes ! ━━━━ ✦ hope you guys will enjoy this! posting this before leaving lol!

reblogs are very much appreciated

[vermilionsun]

Guess who had seasonal sickness ✌

Anyway, I saw this in a dream :3 Enjoy

Word count: 1.3k Rating: General Audiences Fandom: Touchstarved (Red Spring Studio) Categories: Other Relationships: Mhin/MC, Mhin & MC, Ais & Leander & Mhin Tags: Comfort with very little hurt, Fluff, Happy Ending, Leander is a little shit, Ais is just... there

Another infiltration of the Senobium had ended in complete failure. The MC, visibly disappointed, hurried across the Wet Wick, nearly running up the stairs before locking themselves in their room.

Mhin took notice, a flicker of concern crossing their face as they hesitated before sighing softly and starting to follow the MC.

"Woah woah woah, not so fast." Before they could take another step, Leander appeared, gently but firmly placing a hand on Mhin's arm to stop them.

Mhin turned to face the man, a hint of annoyance in their voice. "What do you want, Leander? Can't you see I'm trying to—"

"I'm afraid that's not happening," Leander interrupted, retracting his hand.

Mhin narrowed their eyes. "And why, exactly? You're not the boss of me." They folded their arms, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Leander chuckled softly, leaning against the wall to block Mhin's access to the stairs. "You think I need to boss you around? Don’t worry, I know you won’t listen." His tone shifted, growing more serious. "But I also know a thing or two about people. And right now, the MC needs space… and I’m here to make sure they get it."

Mhin gave him a sidelong glance before averting their gaze. "Space, huh? And what makes you think you're qualified to decide what they need right now?"

"Because I’ve been around, Mhin. I’ve seen my fair share of emotionally charged situations. Sometimes the best thing you can do for someone is to give them space—to let them breathe and figure things out on their own." Leander stepped closer, a hint of playfulness creeping back into his tone. "Besides, you really think you're the best person to comfort them right now?"

Mhin huffed, their pride stung. They didn’t like the implications of Leander’s question, but maybe he had a point. "And I suppose you are, then?" Mhin’s eyes narrowed, though a hint of hesitation flickered in their gaze, betraying their uncertainty.

"You two are becoming worse than Vere and Kuras." Ais chimed in from the bar in a monotone voice, "Let it go."

Mhin shot Ais a withering glare at the unexpected intrusion.

"Shut your mouth, Ais. No one asked for your opinion." Mhin bristled, their hands clenching into fists at their sides. "And you," they continued, turning their attention back to Leander, "don’t think that I’m just going to blindly follow you."

Mhin left the Wick, their footsteps echoing against the cobblestone street. They were determined to reach the MC, even if it meant going against Leander. Their gaze darted toward the building, taking in the surroundings, the gears in their mind already turning. It wasn’t too high, and the brick-lined sides seemed to offer potential footholds for climbing.

Mhin spotted a few stable-looking pipes they could use to scale the building and began to climb as quietly as possible, their heart hammering in their chest. Slowly, they made their way toward the second-story window, finally reaching their destination.

A faint light filtered through the curtains. They knocked once. Twice.

The window opened, and Mhin found themselves face to face with a startled MC, who seemed surprised to see them. "Mhin…?" Their eyes were clearly puffy. Had they been crying?

Oh…

Despite their usual stoicism, a pang of inexplicable guilt hit Mhin. "MC, I… I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but…" Mhin's words stalled as they struggled to find the right thing to say, suddenly at a loss for words. After a pause, they continued, their voice softer than usual. "I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay. And I didn’t want you to face… everything… alone."

Mhin's gaze dropped to the ground, unable to meet MC’s eyes directly.

The MC stared at them dumbfounded for a moment before chuckling softly. "Who are you, and what did you do to Mhin?"

Mhin's cheeks flushed slightly, taken aback by MC's response. "What? I… I'm still me, you idiot!" They huffed, crossing their arms and leaning against the window frame.

The MC laughed harder. Good. Mhin liked that laugh.

"I'm just saying, a few weeks ago, you’d rather stab someone to death than offer comfort. But why didn’t you come through the door?"

They shrugged, looking away. "I didn't want Leander or Ais to stop me. They were being obnoxiously clingy."

"Leander can be a little…"

"An overprotective asshole," Mhin muttered under their breath, rolling their eyes. "He's got his heart in the right place, I suppose… but he can be quite insufferable when he thinks he knows what's best for everyone."

"Won't you come inside? Or do you have to go?"

Mhin glanced over at the MC, silently weighing their options. They really wanted to stay, but they knew they had responsibilities to attend to. With a hint of reluctance, they sighed and pushed away from the window frame. "I… I have to go, actually. I’ve got commissions to take care of. But… can I come back later?"

The MC leaned against the window frame. "I’ll probably be asleep…"

Mhin’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of disappointment in their eyes.

"Oh… Right." They paused, their gaze lingering on the MC. They really wanted to spend more time with them, but they knew they couldn’t. Quickly, they pushed that thought aside. "I guess I’ll check on you tomorrow, then."

"Sounds great."

Mhin nodded, their usual stoicism slipping back into place. A small, rare, genuine smile tugged at the corners of their lips.

“It’s a deal then. Take care, MC.”

With a subtle salute, they stepped back from the window, preparing to leave.

“Wait—”

Mhin paused in their tracks, looking back at the MC, a hint of curiosity in their eyes.

“What is it?”

Mhin's eyes widened slightly as they felt a bandaged hand on their cheek and a soft kiss against their lips, sending a flutter through their entire body.

As the MC pulled away, Mhin stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. Unable to respond, they simply stared back, their cheeks flushing a soft pink.

“Goodnight…���

Mhin nodded wordlessly, still dazed by the kiss. They lifted a hand in a gentle wave, trying to form a coherent response. “Goodnight… I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow…”

With a final lingering look at the MC, Mhin turned and quickly walked away.

As they walked, Mhin touched their fingertips to their lips, still lingering on the memory of the kiss. They weren’t sure how to process the new feeling surging through them—a rush of something they hadn’t experienced before. It was… terrifying and exciting all at once.

With each step, they felt themselves becoming more distracted, their mind replaying the moment over and over again.

They wouldn’t be able to focus on their work tonight at all.

[bluginkgo]

Ep 8 Thoughts and Details Part 1

Some thoughts and details I had while watching ep8, and some parallels I found. And yes, I had to split this into 2 parts because Tumblr said "fack you, you can only upload 30 images :P"

Spoilers, duh

Already starting strong, the song that plays through the radio is "Cyn's theme" if you will, that is heard all the way back in ep5 (time stamp about 2:34)

Ep8 showcasing the first teaser image that was released on Liam's channel. Quite bittersweet, in a good way.

Well, uh, Uzi is a true god now XD She's got the AS that was originally in Cyn as well, double powerful and double traumatized/damaged OC!

"A How-to guide of overcoming the existential dread evoked by murdering innocent sentient robots capable of emotion and independent thought. Real life JCJ engineer testimonies. Thought provoking analysis of life and the benefit of being the apex predator. Insanely philosophical advice such as, 'Get over it,' 'Shut up and keep working,' 'Do you want a job or not.'"

Bleh >:P The fact that the AS is still playful is something a bit silly to me, in a funny way. Despite it being the god of the universe- almost- it has a silly side to it.

The amount of times there were cuss words either almost said/implicated made me so happy and burst out laughing one too many times XD

I've seen some people mention how the reunion between Uzi and Nori was unsatisfactory. In my opinion? It was perfect. The awkward feeling of meeting someone you should have known your entire life, all the while trying to the world was perfectly translated here. The silliness that Uzi inherited from Nori shines here. But most of all, N's kindness shines through Uzi. I think if Uzi was still her angsty rebellious teen like she was back at the beginning of the series, she would have not had as nice of a reunion with Nori as she did now.

Omg, you have no idea how happy I was in this scene. The animation, VAs, the DETAIL- ALL OF IT was so amazing! N looks so silly and goober-y <:3 Another thing I took notice later on was the timing. It's not really stated how much time it took for Uzi to go from falling down the AS hole to being punted into space. But assuming about minutes, that implies N facking booked it. The moment he got tossed out of the cathedral with the keys, he absolutely booked it to the ship without evening thinking whether Uzi was alive or not. He needed to see the evidence for himself. He didn't give up on and assume that Uzi was gone.

Recently one of the animators posted the scenes they worked on, giving us a clearer view of expressions. The work done by Xoriak was amazing and really pushed the expressions on these characters to the limit. What used to be Uzi's anger, quickly melts into relief an sadness as she realizes that N didn't give up on her in this scene. While she sacrificed herself, N did not accept her possible death as the only answer. No, he chose to look for her, and he would have done the same with V had the elevator not been blocked off.

This made me happy too. N has grown so much from who he was in the pilot. He used to be the push over that made friends with rocks, that accepted any order from the higher ups and didn't dare question any rebuttals. Now? Now he's confident enough to even voice the fact that he was mad about what Uzi did.

Give me like- giv- give me a second- LKJD;OIADKNVKVNAKDJF;OIWAEJFANVKJASDJFAOIWEFNAKJSDBV For the longest time my hyperfixation has been BONKS. Evident enough with what I've drawn (looks back at the 4-5 bonk drawings I've made). The fact that I got to see them bonk in canon made my sad sorry soul ascend into the upper plane of existence XD Oh and "die man bit-"

I grew up watching Studio Ghibli, so to see this moment- of NUzi falling and holding hands, of course my brain said- YOYOYOYO LOOK LOOK THEY'RE SO CUTE-

The moment of respite, the hug, the tail wrap around and the quick release from Uzi's part after having a heart to heart- it was all so perfectly beautiful ;w; NOT TO MENTION THE MUSIC, as usual AJ DiSpirito absolutely delivered. I REQUIRE THAT MUSIC TO BE PLAYING LOUDLY IN MY EARS 24/7 PLEASE AND THANK YOU AJ.

"I owe you 1 spaceship" -N

Couple things:

It's funny how J just either gave the ship up without a fight, or N was so stupidly fast that J couldn't even do anything about him taking it XD

N is an absolute machine at speed drawing XD

"I'm FINE, and calm, and GO AWAY." J is the embodiment of the entire work force TwT Couldn't help but say "same, honey, same ;w;"

Excuse me while I just- ITS VVVVVVVVV SHE CAME BACK OH MY GOSH- passes out On a more serious note, I've seen plenty of people mention that if V came back, her sacrifice would be for nothing. I don't think so. V came such a long way and grew to be more kind and honest thanks to her interactions with N, Uzi, Lizzy, and even her "death." It shows, because she chose to side with Uzi and N, and they all fought together in an amazing dance.

There were many moments in the episode that were a bit "slower" pace as many have put. That these moments took away from the intensity that was supposed to be in the episode. I don't think so. These moments are needed not just for the comedy part of it, but to give our brains to rest. To take a second, process the fighting we just saw, and be ready for more action. This is often used in Studio Ghibli movies, where after heavy action, it is followed by moments of quiet serenity to give you time to let the events sink in.

This, this right here TwT CRIES. These three have been together, hanging out, figuring out the eldritch mysteries- of course they'd pick up habits from each other. From N becoming more confident with himself and allowing himself to be mad at someone. To Uzi picking up on V's crawling on the ceiling habit. To V picking up Uzi's "bite me."

The amount of hand holding that was in this episode gave me enough serotonin for a life time. And the way that N always ended up wrapping his tail around Uzi, be it a hug or a cool pose. All of my NUzi hyperfixations are becoming canon and making me go FERAL.

Something that is interesting and always comes back to us, is the AS's interest and fixation on N. The way I have always seen it was Cyn was the reason for it. The AS tends to take something from the host and amplify it ten fold. For Uzi's case the perfect example was when she felt anxious or upset. Ep4 and ep7 are great examples of that. For Cyn's case it would seem that she got attached to N after she entered the mansion as a Solver host. The AS probably took that thought and amplified it to unhealthy amounts.

Oh.MY.GOD. THESE GOOBERS SEND HELP THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME WITH HOW CUTE THEY ARE. N first attempts to protect Uzi, and she says "nuh uh" and covers his hand instead. This. This right here. It's far too beautiful TwT

Great frame, but uh, how the fack are we able to see the AS symbol? XD Cause uh like, her face has a split for the nose section still and all of a sudden it just... went away? XD Don't get me wrong, the animation is TOP NOTCH in these last episodes, but silly little moments like this- where it's super tense and scary, but after a rewatch it just seems silly.

When I first saw this I figured "oh shit, it's ep7 all over again, they're gonna be obliterated." The demonic screams I let out were a bit embarrassing to say the least XD

This little shit. She's just playing with them, and she knows it. This entire fight was nothing more than a little game for her. Like a cat playing with a mouse before killing it.

In this scene you can actually hear the first notes of Eternal Dream, but in a super distorted way, much like it sounded in ep6 (timestamp about 15:30)

Alright, Ginkgo what now, why include this blurry frame of nothing? I really admire Cyn's VA. Fitzy has always done an amazing job at making my favorite character- Cyn- the creepy silly goober that she is. So of course I would have watched and unwillingly memorized laugh takes that Fitzy also shared. One of which was here (time stamp of about 0:47. The laughs are similar, and most likely reused from ep7 takes that never made it into ep7 but carried over to ep8. Just a fun little detail I noticed.

OMFG LMAO AAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHA THE WAY I BAWLED THE FIRST TIME I HEARD IT XD

Split second frame but I see it. I SEE IT V. SHE COVERED UP N'S CORE TwT Despite all of the comments she made, despite all of the things she did, she still cared for him. And the entire show, her entire character growth shows that. She didn't run in that moment- she could have much like she did from Cynessa mere seconds ago, but she stayed, and tried to protect N too.

OMG BAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHA YESSS UZI XD

The entire fighting scene between Uzi, Cynessa and J was so amazing. As usual, AJ DiSpirito did an AMAZING job with the songs, but more so the fact that Uzi is able to hold her own against J and Cynessa, that just amazes me. She has always been strong, but seeing it in battle made me appreciate it all that much more. Another thing about this episode, it seemed like the animators didn't particularly try to hide anything sneaky. All of the glitched sections (ex: Uzi's visor after she at the AS) were code that general population is unable to read/decipher- unless someone with an actual expertise tells me otherwise, I can only assume its code of her CPU functions- once again, remember, I know next to nothing about computers and that language TwT But the moments that were evident were these- they were even changed to BLUE. From the pilot time, everything was sneaky. I mean from the way the Murder Drones logo switched briefly into the AS symbol, to N's waking up having administration "CYN" written on his visor upon reboot. All of that was sneaky details put in for us to hunt down. This time around, it didn't feel much of like a hunt and more like silly easter eggs.

Wanna see the rest of it? Yeah, here's part 2 because Tumblr doesn't like more than 30 images per post TwT

[sunflowersandsapphires]

I saw something in the fandom that made me upset and I need to rant about it. It’ll be below the cut so I don’t clog up people’s dashes!

I cropped the name off of this post because I am not trying to start drama, but I found this under the “Matt Murdock x Reader” tag and found it INCREDIBLY disheartening to go through to comments/reblogs and see how many people agreed.

I am in no way trying to dispute the fact that fandom spaces and self-insert fanfiction is heavily white washed/influenced by white writers. As a white woman myself, I catch many little slip ups in my own work that make my writing less accessible than I want it to be. I understand being frustrated that there aren’t many stories where you feel your appearance has been considered.

However: fanfiction, fanart, gif making and coloring, edits, and other forms of fan-made-content are usually completely free to access. No one is entitled to them—they are a privilege, not a right. Which means that people are allowed to write whatever characters they want, even if it’s not completely unique or what you want to read.

My issue is with OP’s critiques of weak/feminine/sweet/innocent readers and the way they voiced their opinion (again, not disputing the appearance stuff). I know that many readers are sweet or innocent, but as someone who is rarely given the space to be the “damsel in distress” so to speak, I enjoy writing characters who are taken care of and protected. Regardless of my or any other writer’s reasoning for writing the characters this way, we are allowed to do that. It’s our fucking work.

If you don’t like something, no one is forcing you to read it. If you notice a lack of fics that appeal to you, write some yourself. It is inconsiderate to chastise people spending hours of their free time to give you content that you can enjoy just because it’s not exactly what you want to see.

Also, don’t threaten to block me if you don’t like how I write. Just block me. It is your responsibility to curate an enjoyable experience on this app, not everyone else’s.

In summary: I am not trying to say that fandom is perfect or inclusive or that critiques of my writing aren’t welcome. This person can have whatever opinions they like and are welcome to post them on their blog. I would just like to point out that the delivery could’ve been more polite and that authors don’t need to change the plots/characters’ personalities they write just because others aren’t happy with the outcome.

[dastardly-imbecile]

Mechanical Butterfly (IV)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

---

Viktor doesn't run from Singed. Silco sees the burgeoning inventor in the young girl he found, after Vander. Collaborations abound!

---

Wordcount: ~3900

Silco has been out far more often, recently, but Jinx doesn’t mind. He keeps the nightmares away, fractionally, his presence, but she’s found something that does exactly the same: the task that Viktor gave her. 

So refreshing! No rules, no admonishment, no telling her, Powder, stop messing around, or Powder, nobody’s ever gonna use anything you build, no, just letting her crawl into the belly of that great mechanical beast and come out victorious with its guts(soot and oil) plastered all over her. 

She loves it. 

What she doesn’t love is the late nights, when it’s too dark to build, and she has to lay awake in her bed and try not to think of the names she won’t allow herself to speak. Try not to flinch, when something explodes out there in the dark-dark night, try not to climb out of her small cot and find someone to run to. Because Sevika started locking her door, after the first time Jinx tried to find her, and normally Silco at least tucks her back in, but now he’s out quashing rebellions or whatever it was that he called it. 

What’s worse is, two days later, when she’s finished with the filter. Technically, the third time she’s done so—the first two, there were tiny, minute things to fix, sockets a millimeter out of alignment or mesh not stretched taut enough, but now it’s genuine perfection and she looks at it and there’s the sound of voices creeping in the edges of her brain, nothing to block them out anymore. 

There’s only one thing to do: which is to track down Sevika currently in the basement, punching at a sack of flour. Looking out at the room, something ugly and slippery flip-flops in her chest, because all the old couches and blankets and shelves have been removed to make room for the woman’s gym—and it’s so unfamiliar that she can hardly believe she used to share it with…

 Jinx stands at the doorway at the bottom of the stairs, waiting patiently for her to finish—which she doesn’t for a long, long time.

“Sevika,” she says eventually. The woman throws two more punches before finally turning her way, brow furrowed in a scowl. 

“What?”

“We need to go back.”

“What?”

“To Viktor’s,” she says, “I finished the assignment. He needs to give me more. And I can learn more.”

It’s a well-laid out argument, in her opinion, but Sevika’s face screws up, and she shakes her head. 

“No.”

“What? Why?”

“Silco’s paying a damn bucketload for each lesson,” she starts, counting off on her fingers, “Silco’s out, and he can’t approve this, and I’m busy.”

Jinx stares at her for a moment. “But-”

“Take it up with the boss,” she growls, “but it’s gonna be next week.”

With that, she turns back to her bag, leaving Jinx to slowly ascend back up the stairs. There aren’t many others milling about in the space, the ground floor of The Last Drop, but that just gives her more room to appreciate the changes to the room. Most of the old decorations have been taken down, ripped, or otherwise disposed of, and now it’s a vast expanse of stained wood and nothing much else. It’s good, in a way, even if it makes the space wide and darkly unfamiliar, because it means that she can look at the wall and not imagine Claggor standing there, arms crossed, or Vi leaning against one of the ratty bar tables. 

She can’t think of that. 

Upstairs, it would be quieter yet, but she likes the level it’s at down here. Just loud enough to take the edge off her thoughts. Silco has yet to reopen the bar—he has to finish whatever street business it is that he’s working on, first—but some of his group hang around. They spare her no glances, used to her presence, and she doesn’t look at them too long either, afraid that she will see one of their faces, spark a bit of familiarity, be dragged back into the shadowed corners of her mind. 

Warily, she proceeds to the door, tugging on the fringes of her hair as she does. The small braid that peers out from under the rest of the mop barely reaches her shoulder. Vi braided it for her. Abruptly, she snatches her hand away, as if burned. 

Don’t look behind you. 

She doesn’t. Stiffly, she pushes open the door. Still, nobody stops her—seems that most of the group is instead occupied in rifling through the liquor cabinet behind the bar. A spike of fury at that—they’re touching things that aren’t theirs, stealing—but then she remembers that nobody will be around to reprimand them, and her heart skips an uncomfortable, sputtering beat. 

Nobody around, because of her. 

It’s her fault. 

All her fault. 

No!

This is what she needs to go to Viktor’s for—because in those two hours, sitting and learning, it was all calm and clear and nothing but razor-sharp focus upon the gleam of metal upon her lap. 

Deep breath. 

Silco told her, weeks ago, in those early nights when she couldn’t stop crying, deep breath. Never reprimanded her for crying—so different from Mylo’s mocking tone, whenever he found her curled up under the pillows—just told her how to stop. 

She likes that. 

Deep breath, again, and she peers out onto the street. Midday outside, though Zaun sees near-none of that light, and all the neon signs are just as lit as in the dead of night. It’s quieter than usual, too—all the normal market stalls are shuttered and closed, their inhabitants fled into their teeny hidey-holes. 

“Hey,” someone says from behind her, the words slightly slurred, “hey, isn’t that the boss’s kid?”

She whirls around, sees one of the gangly figures behind the bar point at her. 

“Don’t let her leave,” another one cautions, coming around the bar, and in that brief moment that they disappear into the shadows, she sees someone else. Not Vi or Claggor or Mylo or Vander but some homunculus made from all of them, reaching and chasing and there’s smoke in the air and her hands are burnt from the heat of the bomb, and she opens the door and flees into the street. 

As she runs, her hand snakes into her pocket, reaching for the small round ball tucked securely into the depths of the fabric. The last one. 

Footsteps behind her, chasing, but she knows these streets around The Last Drop just as well as she’d know anything, and she ducks into one alley, scales a rusted ladder, jumps from one roof to another before sliding roughly back down a slanted awning, landing roughly on her feet. Her pursuers are drunk, and less agile than her, and not trying all that hard in the first place, so by the time she allows herself a moment of stillness, there’s nothing else. 

She laughs, the sound bright in the open air. Ha! Take that! She’s still got it. 

Now, slower, she progresses down the street. It strikes her that she could just go to Viktor’s herself, but though the idea is tempting on the surface level, there’s a tug in her gut that stops her from navigating to the alleyway shop. Part of it is getting in trouble, of course, but that’s not much, especially because she’s probably already going to be in trouble from fleeing. No, it’s something that almost feels like fear. 

Not of Viktor, of course, because he’s kind, and if he wasn’t then she still thinks that she could take him in a fight, but it’s the other one. The other man, thin and tall and no more physically intimidating than Viktor himself, but she does not like his lab with all the creatures in the jars, does not like his experiments. Does not like the way that Silco carries himself around him: tense, careful, and wary. Whatever sort of person incites that sort of reaction from him, she’s automatically wary of. 

Though she bemoaned Sevika’s chaperoning, the first time, now the prospect of entering that space without her tall, solid presence is more than a bit intimidating. 

So, instead, she continues to wander. This road leads to the main market street, the largest one of them, and—judging from the babble of sound already reaching her ears—one that’s at least somewhat less abandoned than the rest. She’s got no money to her name, but that’s never posed much of a problem before—Ekko was always the best at pilfering from the edges of the stalls, at not getting caught—and, if spotted, at running away swiftly. 

Ekko. Where is he? He didn’t leave her, not like the others, but he’s not where he used to live.

So maybe she can find him! Find him, and Silco will take him in too, and then he’ll ask where the others are. What happened to Benzo. What she did, the bomb and the blood and the screams, and she collapses against one of the grimy walls, clutching at her head. The world spins violently, everything flipping upside down, and she can still hear Vi—she can always hear Vi, it’s just now, she cannot suppress her—and there’s wetness on her cheeks. 

Jinx!

Jinx!

Jinx!

“Jinx?” 

A new voice. It muddles with the ones still pecking at her head, until the speaker repeats himself, “Jinx?”

Familiar. The world clears, somewhat, though it’s blurred now not by her headache but instead by tears, and she peers out from between her fingers. A man on three legs. 

Except, not three legs, she realizes, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes, but instead two and a cane. 

“Viktor?”

A simple look upwards confirms it. She knew already, from the tone of his voice and that soft accent, but this is visual confirmation. There he stands, tall and narrow-boned, cane in one hand and leather pouch in the other, packed with things she can’t see. Must’ve come from the market. He looks nervous, out of his element, and looking at him now, she can’t help but agree. 

It’s not exactly that he doesn’t belong in the undercity. He looks Zaunite, no doubt about that, clothes simple and hardy, face set hard, worn. Clear in the way he holds himself, the little mannerisms like holding the bag close, so unlike the free, loose strides of topsiders. No, it’s less that he doesn’t belong in Zaun and more that he doesn’t belong on this street, in the open, away from his lab and looking like any random citizen. 

“Why… ah, are you here?” He asks. Part of that nervousness might actually be related to her, she realizes, and suddenly she’s embarrassed to be here crying on the side of the road. She is no better than she was as Powder, crybaby and weak and runaway. “Are you alright? Lost?”

“No,” she says, “not lost.” The last part of that sentence is the need to clarify—because she’s not lost, no, but also perhaps not alright. 

“Is Sevika..?” He asks, glancing around. The street is fairly empty, and none of the few shrouded figures meandering by are glaring or grunting or cursing, so he’s able to rule that out before Jinx even has to say no.

“I wanted to see you,” she blurts, which wasn’t really the reason she ran out of the lab, but is close enough and really the only thing that’s relevant now. “I finished it.”

But she forgot to bring it! She can picture it now, in her new room on the second floor of The Last Drop, haphazard on the floor and surrounded by scattered tools. Suddenly, she shrinks a bit, afraid that he will accuse her as a liar—but instead, he simply tilts his head, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile. 

“That was quick. I should’ve expected that, though, no?”

Unsure how to respond, she nods wordlessly. He takes a step back, gesturing loosely to the road with his cane. 

“Perhaps you should be getting back. I’m sure your…” For a long moment, he hesitates, and she opens her mouth, Dad resting on the tip of her tongue. It’s so very close, but when she imagines saying it, she imagines Vander as he once was—strong and warm and laughing—and Vander as she recalls him now—laid low, snarling, screaming—and so she can’t bring herself to spill those syllables from her mouth. 

“-I’m sure they’re worried,” Viktor eventually finishes lightly. 

“Can I walk with you?” She asks. 

“Where are you headed?”

“The Last Drop.”

A flicker of surprise in his eyes—he knows the place, of course he does—but he dips his head in a shallow nod. “It’s on the way.”

He doesn’t turn to walk until she pushes fully off the wall, following in his footsteps. As she blinks the last of the tears out of her eyes, she’s glad that he never asked why she was crying. She’s glad she doesn’t have to think about that herself. 

From her vantage point slightly behind, she notices the further unevenness to his gait, beyond even that of the normal limp, showing clear strain trying to balance both his cane and the bag of supplies.

“Do you need help?”

“Hm?”

“I can carry that,” she says, indicating the bag. Eager to be of help—maybe, then, he won’t send her away immediately, and he’ll let her come back to the lab. The instant she thinks that, however, she also remembers the darkness, the sharp smell of alcohol overlaying the faint scent of blood, and the enthusiasm dies just as quickly. 

Still, though, if only to help him. 

“It’s heavy,” he says, but she crosses her arms. 

“I’m used to heavy stuff!”

“...For a bit,” he finally says, twisting to pass the bag over to her. It’s simple leather, lifted by two straps made of the same material, and she grasps it sturdily, heaves it up to her shoulder. There’s a wary look in his eyes, that first moment, like he thinks she’ll fall—or run off with the supplies—but though it’s weighty, she stands straight and smiles and tries not to let any strain show on her face. 

They set off again, and she smiles to see that his stride has returned to normal. The bag bumps against her hip, and she tries her best not to peek, but curiosity wins out in the end—inside, instead of the food and the like she’d been expecting, it’s simply bottles of darkly-labeled chemicals, scraps of metal, and, at the top-

“You can take it,” he says, and she startles, cheeks flushing at being caught in the act. 

“What?”

“The box of tools,” he says, “I bought it for you.”

She blinks at him, uncomprehending. “I have tools.”

“They’re not very good,” he replies, tone nearly teasing. She frowns. 

“Sevika bought them for me.”

“I guessed,” he says drily, and nods again at the bag. “Go ahead. Unless you would rather wait until next week, of course.”

She would very much not rather wait until next week, confusion aside, so she reaches into the bag lightning-quick to withdraw the heavy box at the top of the stack. It’s thin, but weighty, the edges lined in dark metal. Her face splits into a smile at the sight, and all insult from his previous words is struck down upon the realization that these are indeed way better. 

“Thank you! These are…” no words to express it in her brain, so all she can do is look at Viktor and grin and hope it imparts at least a fraction of her happiness. 

“Singed bought me mine,” he says softly. Singed must refer to that man—it’s a jolt of a reminder that they are, in fact, associated. “When I began to tinker. A brilliant mind can only be enhanced by quality implements.” 

The way he parrots the last words makes it clear that it’s a quote—not direct words of his. Still, her mind snags upon that one word, brilliant, and she asks, before she can stop herself, “Am I brilliant?”

“It took me a week to configure my first filter,” he says, “granted, I assisted, but at your age, in two days? You could not be anything but.”

Nobody’s ever called her brilliant before. Impulsively, she rushes forwards, hugs Viktor. He stumbles back a single step, but skids the cane backwards, catching himself—and the other hand hesitantly settles upon her shoulder. He’s thinner than Vi ever was, bones where she had muscle, smells of metal and chemicals instead of leather and clean air. But they’re somewhere in the realm of the same age, and she clutches the box to her chest, and if she closes her eyes and turns her head it’s almost the same. 

The embrace lingers only a moment later before he extracts himself, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

“I’m… very glad you like it,” he says, “but I’m afraid this is where we part.”

Right. On one side, the path splits towards The Last Drop, and the other must no doubt eventually lead to his alleyway. 

“Thank you,” she repeats, quieter this time, sliding his bag off her shoulder and proffering it back up to him. He takes it wordlessly. 

“Next week,” he says, like a promise, and then turns down to continue stepping down the path. She likes that—a promise, because those can’t be broken.

—

So absorbed is she in the new tools, in the memories of the day, turning ‘brilliant’ around in her mind until it’s smooth as a river-worn stone, that when the door to The Last Drop opens, she startles. Sevika doesn’t know a thing about her escapade—must’ve spent the whole day sulking down in the basement—and the few subordinates that saw her escape aren’t breathing a word. Mutual silent agreement: because if they admit she ran away, then they admit they let her run away, so her little secret is tucked away just as safely as the blue gem still shimmering in her pocket. 

Despite all this, when the door below opens, there’s a spike of unfamiliar fear in her heart. It’s Silco, and she confirms that by perching at the top of the stairs, hidden by the bannister, and watching the man stroll in. These past few days, she has always greeted his return by running down, grabbing onto his coat and sticking by his side for the rest of the night, but today, something holds her where she is. 

Below, he looks around, expecting her as well—the confusion on his face is almost funny. 

At least, until he looks up the stairs, and despite her hiding spot, meets her eyes. 

Jinx! Someone says. 

It sounds like all of them. 

She flees back, back into her room, heart suddenly sparked into a quick hammer-beat, but there is nowhere to hide, no lock on the door, and what exactly is she hiding from?

Suddenly, she wishes Viktor had asked her why she was crying, because maybe then she could have told him something, and he’d have comforted her. Vi was always able to comfort her, with soft words, or failing that by gathering her into her arms and squeezing her until she started to laugh, so maybe he’d have been able to do the same, but he’s gone and Vi is Gone, capital G. 

And it’s all her fault. 

Jinx! Someone yells. 

Footsteps on the stairs. She scrambles into bed, because she’s unsure of what else to do, kicks the covers up around her feet until she’s in a half-sitting sort of position. She doesn’t like sleeping alone, doesn’t like the absence of the other kids’ breaths. Misses, even, the occasional kick in the middle of the night, sometimes—usually between Mylo and Vi—leading to a short scrap. It’s penance, sleeping in silence, and she wouldn’t even know if they were in the room because they wouldn’t be kicking or breathing, would they?

JINX! They all scream. 

The door opens. 

“Jinx,” Silco says, stepping fully into the space, “where were you?”

“Up here,” she replies. He crosses over to the bed, sits down. 

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yes,” she breathes out. 

“I apologize,” he murmurs, “for my absences. Everyone in Zaun wants a piece of the power. It’s like setting rattraps, keeping all the vermin away.”

“Oh,” she says, more a wordless sort of acknowledgement than anything. She wants, so badly, to do what she’s always been doing, these past few weeks, bury her hands in the coat and her head in his chest, let it drown out the world around. When she thinks of doing that now, however, there’s the smell of fire, Vi’s voice, her wide blue eyes aglow with flames. 

“Vander never did a good job of keeping them in line,” he says. The words coincide with a long, low scream that rings through her mind, and she flinches—lowers her head—only barely resists the urge to cover her ears. Vander. Vander. Vander. 

“So it’s that,” he whispers. The blankets bunch as he scoots closer, places a warm hand on her arm, tilts her chin up with the other. When she looks up, it’s into his eyes, one green and the other a pinprick of red. “Are you thinking of them?”

She pushes herself back, further away, panic rushing bright and hot in her veins. 

“I’m not angry, Jinx.” A pause, and when she still doesn’t answer, a peculiar sort of expression flits across his face. “Or would you prefer Powder?”

A blow so strong that it’s as if he’d cuffed her. She flinches back, and he follows, arm snaking up from her hand to the back of her neck, the other settling across her back. 

“No,” she whispers, as he gathers her into his embrace. Not like the hugs of Viktor or Vi—this one is taut and poised on the edge of comfort, and she knows that it would be good if she melted into it, but she does not. “Not Powder.”

“She’s gone,” he hums, his chest thrumming with the motion, “and so are the rest of them. They left you all on your own, did they not?”

She relaxes just a bit more, cheek pressed uncomfortably into the buttons of his coat. When she nods, she knows he can feel it, because he continues. 

“Vander was a coward and a traitor. Your sister ran to the enforcers, ran to her death, rather than stay with you. Did they help you, even before? Vander had money plenty. Did he ever find you a mentor? Someone to cultivate your gift? Or did they degrade you? Leave you behind?”

She nods. In her head, Vi is hugging her, and then she’s throwing her off onto the cold, wet ground, shouting Jinx! Silco’s grip tightens, and the image puffs away in a cloud of reddish smoke, and the voices are mercifully silent. She surrenders herself fully into the embrace, finally lets herself settle against him. This is how it is. This is how it will always be. 

“There’s only us,” he says, hand rubbing circles into her back, “they’ll always leave you, Jinx, and as the ones left behind, we must stick together.”

One final time, she nods. He doesn’t speak again—for a long moment, they remain there, suspended in the silence. 

Eventually, as all things must, they separate. He ushers her under the covers, pulls the sheets to her shoulders, departs with a quiet, “Goodnight.”

Her dreams consist not of the usual—faceless figures circling her, calling her name, flame burning bright in the background—but something new. Silco’s embrace, which morphs into that of a thinner man, the clatter of a cane, which then turns into a child’s, and when she pulls back all she can catch is a shock of white hair and crooked grin.

[oliveisme533]

My dad's neighbor is a dilf

Chapter 2

Joel Miller x you

Summery: You had decided to spend your summer in Austin with your dad. You used to spend almost every summer there, but hadn't spent a summer there since you were a teenager. Which means you hadn't seen a certain Joel Miller in years..

Warnings: Verbally abusive boyfriend. Talks of mental health and self harmI will put a sign for what paragraph to skip if you want to avoid that content

Of fucking course Ben would call you... your rub your temple and groan. "It's too late for this shit" you mutter to yourself and flick off the light with a little more force than you intended.

Sunday morning you slept in. It wasn't until about 11:00 that you heard your dad banging around in the kitchen downstairs. You drag yourself out of bed, highly motivated by the smell of coffee making its way to your nose. As your feet hit the landing toilet freeze, the fog of sleep dissipates instantly and your insides turn to liquid. "It's really no problem! I can have it fixed in a couple hours, plus you don't want to wait around with that kind of shit. It can turn into a much bigger problem real quick if you don't take care of it soon" that was Joel's voice. What is Joel doing in your kitchen at 11am on a Sunday?!! Especially when he was just here..last night? Do him and my dad really spend that much time together?? You contemplate running back upstairs but then your dad catches a glimpse of you before you can execute your plan. "Well hey babydoll! Didn't know if you were still alive up there" you offer him a grunt in response as you make your way to the coffee pot. "Good morning to you too" he laughs. "Oh hey, the water is going to be shut off in a bit because there's a leak in the water pipes upstairs. Joel said he would take care of it so water should be back on in an hour or so." "Do you just call Joel instead of a plumber these days?" You question your dad with a raised eyebrow. He chuckles "no, I basically sent him a text this morning asking for his opinion on whether or not this needed to be fixed asap or it was no big deal. I was going to call someone on Monday, but he insisted". Your dad lowered his voice slightly as he then said "between you and me...I think he's trying to stay real busy these days. I know having Sarah with her mom for the summer has been a really hard adjustment for him" that seemed logic enough to you and you said as much to your dad before Joel came back through the front door carrying several tools.

"Well good morning sunshine" he said with a smile that stirred inside of you. "One of these days I oughta teach your dad how to be useful around the house so he can carry on without me" "yeah you two are like a married couple" you joked. Joel chuckled "mmm well who could resist this handsome man" he said gesturing to himself. You rolled your eyes "you're old" it was a cheap shot, but also you secretly would admit his age because you were curious. He laughed and said "yeah Sarah says the same to me" but he didn't say anything else. He walked out of the kitchen and began up the stairs towards the leaky pipe or whatever the hell he was here to fix. As soon as he was out of sight you flung your head back "why...why couldn't dad just call a freakin plumber" you resolved to deal with the Ben situation after you had some breakfast in your stomach. It was not something you were particularly looking forward too, but you knew he wouldn't let up until you responded. Sure you could block him, but it wasn't like he was some tinder date gone wrong. You two had spent years together, not to mention you were adults who needed to handle the situation like adults and not take the easy way out.

After breakfast you found an outfit that wasn't an old t-shirt and shorts with little owls on them. You were still mortified that Joel saw this look. "Okay you can do this" you breathed, picking up your phone and tapping Ben's name." Of course he picked up almost immediately. "Hey.. how are you?" You responded politely, but quickly veered the conversation to what he really wanted to talk about. "Well, I've been thinking. I really think you and I are meant to be together. It just feels right, and I know I haven't always been the best at showing up or just being a good boyfriend in general, but now I really feel I'm ready for that level of commitment" there was a short pause

"listen, Ben ... I just don't see it that way. I've spent too much time over the years being disappointed by your actions. I've broke my own heart so many times because I convinced myself you were really going to change and then to I didn't. I can't do that anymore. We're too old for this. I'm glad you feel like you're ready to commit and I hope you find a girl who is too, but at this point in my life I just can't offer you that." You had feared he would be angry, but weren't prepared for what came next. ⚠️CW⚠️ "Are you fucking serious?? Like after all these years you're just going to throw all that away?! Like honestly I didn't need to come back and give you another chance but I did and" "GIVE ME another chance?!! What the fuck Ben..HOW do you even see it that way??" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN??" He shouted back "babe I have put up with so much of your shit over the years and now I'm saying that it doesn't matter and I'm going to stick around regardless of all that!" Oh now he has crossed a line "MY SHIT?! WHAT, PRAY TELL ARE YOU REFERRING TOO?!" "I have had to do SO MUCH for you like when your mental health is bad you just shut off completely. It's like trying to be in a relationship with a fucking wall! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD THAT IS...WHAT KIND OF TOLL THAT TAKES ON ME." Hot tears of anger were streaming down your cheeks. "I CANNOT believe you said that! Did you ever consider how hard it is FOR ME in those times?! Like honestly Ben you only think about yourself." "Oh really is that why I took off work so I could drive you to the hospital when you slit your wrists and you called me, crying?? Obviously that shows I care for you! You cannot tell me I only care about myself when I had to do that kind of shit for you!" Your chest was now rising and falling very rapidly. You certainly were not thinking about how loud you were being right now, but luckily your dad was outside mowing the lawn, well out of earshot. "Ben that is the bare MINIMUM A PERSON CAN DO. Like you're really hanging that over my head??! fucking grow up! God FORBID YOU TAKE THE TIME TO DRIVE ME TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM DURING THE WORK DAY. How about we talk about all the shit I've done for YOU over the years." You could now hear him laughing. A hollow laugh, but a laugh all the same. "Oh DONT EVEN. What could you POSSIBLY have done to compare to me being your GODDAMN NURSE when you're a grown adult." It was all too much. You were all but sobbing at this point. "You are such an ASSHOLE Ben! Don't EVER call me again! THIS IS OVER. I will NEVER love you and you will NEVER speak to me this way again. If you so much as text me...I'm going to get fucking restraining order!" You choked out. "A RESTRAINING ORDER ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?? My dads a literal LAWYER you know that right babe?! I'm NOT going to let that happen!" "Do you even hear yourself right now??! LEAVE ME THE. FUCK. ALONE."

                            End of CW

You hang up the call and crumple to your bed with heaving sobs. You are interrupted by a knock on your door. Presuming it's your dad you walk over to open in and all but fling yourself out the door way knowing he's standing right then ready to hold you. Hug you and tell you everything will be okay like you're 13 or something. The blurred your vision and it was not your dad on the other side of the door. Your head hit his chest and you flung your arms up around his neck. "Dad I hate boys!" You sobbed. But then you realized the height wasn't right, the smell wasn't right, the arms and chest weren't right...

you practically jumped backwards and to your horror saw Joel Miller standing before you. His soft puppy dog eyes heavy with concern and care. "I-um sorry. I assumed it was my dad or I never would have" Joel held up a hand to cut you off. "It okay, you don't need to apologize...I've got a daughter of my own don't think I haven't had the same hug and those same tears." His voice was soft and gentle, and he smiled at the last comment. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." You could only nod. "It's none of my business, but this guy sounds like bad news and it's a matter of your safety...does your dad know about all this?" You nodded again. "Yes he knows about Ben...although I'll need to update him on the new low that Ben stooped to today. But my dad knows and I feel safe...and in blocking Ben's number." Joel's brows were knit together. "Okay...I don't need to know about but your dad does and it sounds like you've got a good thing going there." You felt awkward and more than anything wanted to disappear and forget this interaction ever took place. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other and picked at your fingers "um yeah I think everything with be fine now" you said awkwardly. "Alright well I apologize for intruding into your private life, but I'm glad you're safe and under your dads roof." He started to walk away when you heard yourself say "Thank you Joel..I really appreciate it."he smiled at you and said "don't mention it" "You better finish up fixing that leak before my dad finds something else to break." Joel laughed "don't worry I'm just about done and I'll be out of yalls way in a jiffy." What a day... and it's only noon

[zer0-devoox]

My opinion of the ending of Murder Drones (which no one asked for but screw you)

Ugh... Okay, I've been putting off this post for a while, but here it is. I've heard many mixed opinions, "that it was a rushed ending" "that it was the best ending of the animation" and blah blah, well, this is my opinion.

It was... An ending.

X: Lmao, of course it was an ending girl, explain yourself

What I want to say is that we need to put ourselves in context a little, look people. Reality is what it is, Murder drones it was. A. Experiment. Those at Glich told Liam that they will develop the story in eight chapters to see how the project fares, and in the first chapters it looked as if they had a second season planned, only then the amazing digital circus arrived and even though it hurts...

AND NOT! I don't want to say that it's THADC's fault, much less @gooseworx I'm a follower of that series, I love the concept and I wish both series could have forty seasons as far as I'm concerned, but unfortunately, we're not Netflix, we're not Disney ( Thank God)

There were good parts and bad parts, scenes that I loved like N and Uzi formalizing their relationship in some strange way (although I wanted a kiss) and also really scary scenes, like Cyn giving Tessa's voice, and without going any further I am traumatized with a incoming call.

---Were there things to improve/that I didn't like?

Of course yes, for example the climax, yes, yes, I see people saying that Cyn was nerfed but that we are going to make the difficulty of creating such powerful characters, I guess.

One thing that bothered me was the treatment of other characters other than N or Uzi, for example Khan, Nori, or any other sequence, the one that annoys me the most, Lizzy, who is not a character I like, in fact I hate her, but at the very least he could have received SOME consequence for his actions, someone will come out and say that he had his development in the dance chapter, but I don't see it that way, I don't know, say you.

O thad who is top best characters and I love him

--DON'T MAKE ME TALK ABOUT J PLIS---

And what hurts me the most... V

What? Did you think I wasn't even going to talk about her? Well you're wrong!

I feel like the series struggled a lot to develop N and Uzi individually while also developing their relationship, but speaking of V... His development fell short.

I don't want to go on for too long (if you want a deeper analysis of the character, tell me and I'll do it) V had a very serious change from his personality in the mansion to the beginning of everything that happened in Cooper 9, becoming someone more sadistic and aggressive Since murder was her "job" in chapter eight we found out that she knew that Tessa was Cyn, but she was under changate (practically she and N each had a rifle in their heads, for God's sake)

The first time I saw the scene where V tearfully confesses everything to N, it broke me, I admit. But in retrospect, I feel like it wasn't enough. It was good to show the sensitive side of V that we were seeing through the impenetrable diva mask, but she herself tells Cyn that she "still can" which doesn't convince me.

I loved chapter six, it's simply one of my favorites, because with all the reasons to leave Uzi where Alice had them, he chose to save her.

Damn!

He defended her to tooth and nail, he seemed like a beast with -Tessa- and with N, he literally didn't want anyone to touch Uzi because she was hurt, without going any further

his damn last words were for her!

I loved that scene because literally and symbolically V took a step forward to break the block of ice that the two of they had placed in front of each other since chapter two, this is when V first calls her by her name, not cyn, not purple thing, not parasite... Uzi, just that.

And it bothers me that this was completely ignored in chapter eight (I mean, not completely but it was not given the value it deserved) From the bottom of my heart I would have wanted V to apologize to Uzi for everything he had done, for Uzi to somehow thank her and also apologize (because Uzi also almost killed her)

I know that neither of the two characters are the most emotional thing in the world, but I only ask for three dialogues, not a kiss and an emotional thirty-minute speech (which wouldn't have been bad either)

And spoken of the devil... The time

raised the hand who imagined that chapter eight would last (minimum) an hour. Because im yes, I feel that the ending was rushed, don't get me wrong, the final fight was beautiful, with framing shots and very very epic with the background theme. But, I don't know. I think that another ten minutes just to complete the developments, explain the unresolved doubts and give seriousness to some things was worth it (*cough, cough* Doll)

Anyway, this post already seems like a Twitter statement...

I love murder drones.

there isn't a joke that doesn't make me laugh or an emotional scene that doesn't make me cry, I wish with all my might for a second season of this series so much. potential, but it is what it is.

Anyway, I have a little faith in a spin-off or a continuation in some way because of the fucking open ending, nothing and no one is going to stop me from continuing to love these schizophrenic robots, or from continuing to ship my weird ships, far from it. to play eternal dreams at the faculty parties.

Leave your opinions in the comments or reblogs, I'll be reading them! And if you want V's analysis, say so! maybe we could reach 200 notes?? Who knows? Bey-bey devils don't get lost.

[slashisms]

a mutual understanding

pairing: billy loomis x reader

rating: M. 18+, minors dni

warnings: possessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, violence mention, slight dom/sub dynamic

word count: 1.4k

summary: modern!au inspired by some tumblr post i saw.

a/n: i wrote this on mobile so if grammar gets you hard, skip!

billy loomis is possessiveness personified. not in a jealous or overbearing way, or because of any unspoken insecurity (so he says). it’s a character trait. if you’re with him, you have to belong to him. you accept those parts of him as easily as you accept his wit or charm or humor. he’s been upfront with you about it, what he expects and how he wants you to behave. honestly, it looks unpleasant from the outside, but the last thing on his mind is what anyone thinks. you wouldn’t be with him if you didn’t enjoy it and your opinion is the only one that has a hope of mattering.

he’s never more than a foot from you if he can help it and keeps a very close eye on you when he can’t. he dislikes when you’re out of his sight, touching you at all times. every second his arm is around your waist or shoulder, a hand on your arm or hip or thigh or ass. he wants you close, where no one else can look at or reach you without catching his eye and invoking his wrath.

he’s a firm believer that people around you shouldn’t be allowed to look at you too freely. the moment he took an interest in you, he made it his mission to prevent strangers from approaching you. he’s like a scary dog, glaring at them with dark eyes that promise violence. he made it clear to everyone you were his. walking with billy’s arm around your waist, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd and darting to you every so often with a tiny smirk is a common sight.

when he catches someone glance at you for too long, his dead eyes bore into theirs, face void of any expression, but with a clear message: fuck around and find out. very few have found out, quickly choosing to direct their attention elsewhere. the ones that have are surprised by the strength behind billy’s lithe form, the viper like quickness behind each movement and the unrelenting bloodlust in his attacks. he’s a sight to behold, a whirlwind of limbs and an unhinged grin on his face. he lives for bare knuckled violence done in your honor, like a prayer of one fucked up heretic. if he thought you’d let him kill for you, he would.

thankfully, you draw the line at beating up assholes who don’t know how to take no for an answer. it’s the closest to worshipping you he’s going to get, shoving the face of some prick into gravel until he coughs out an apology. he knows you’re truly made for him because your eyes sparkle, voice low and sultry as you smile up at him and murmur, ‘thank you, billy,’ afterwards. the two of you are shameless, eye fucking until you can find a place to be alone (your decision, not his. he’d tie the guy up and fuck you right there let’s be honest.)

as much as he wants to, billy can’t put his hands on everyone. particularly, losers in your DMs. he despises social media and the shallow, vapid people who gather on there like sycophants and no matter what he says, you don’t share the same burning hatred. it only takes one good picture of you— and they’re all beautiful, for the desperate creeps to come crawling in. it’s almost a ritual: you post, choosing to ignore any incoming notifications while he scrolls through them and soon after it’s not long before he’s discarding your phone for the rest of the night while he fucks you senseless.

if he’s feeling particularly cruel, he’ll record you on it, ignoring the way you stammer and protest. he works smoothly to cajole you into it, forcing you to show him who you belong to. the way you shout his name has his heart in a chokehold, he’ll never let you leave him. you’re quick to block all of them later, even if you are amused by how annoyed he gets.

billy feels it doesn’t send enough of a message, that you’d never think of entertaining them because you have everything you could possibly want and need from him. he’s painfully aware of how lucky he is to have you, you’re gorgeous and smart and compassionate. he satisfies you and they should know it.

speaking of, he’s laying in your bed on your phone when he sees a notification. it’s not even a real message, a pathetic attempt from a spineless coward that’s never gotten past ‘Hello’ with a woman and communicates like a child. that’s what the sad heart eyes emoji he’s sent conveys.

why does this guy think he could pull you with a fucking emoji? as far as compliments go, it’s laughable. you deserve to be exalted. it makes him angrier. if they’re going to ignore the clear signs of a happy relationship he insists you leave all over your page, they could at least be a viable alternative. as the equivalent to dog shit left on the sidewalk, their audacity was infuriating.

billy reaches for you where you’re curled into his side, occupied with the movie you’re watching until you’re distracted by his soft touches to your skin. you look up at him, raising your eyebrows. he’s able to slide his hand under your neck and a thrill runs through him at the way you tilt your head to give him better access, without question. your skin is warm and your pulse thrums softly under his fingers. “c’mere,” he orders, pulling you forward.

you melt under him as he kisses you, arching eagerly into his mouth. he squeezes the sides of your neck softy, a firm pressure that has you settling down obediently. he moves from your lips to your neck, placing gentle kisses on the hollow of your throat. your pleased sigh is followed by a squeak of surprise when he bites you, sucking and dragging his tongue against your skin until the blood vessels burst. bruising appears faint on your skin which billy has always taken as a challenge. his experienced mouth has your skin coloring in no time, ignoring the whimpers you let out beneath him.

you easily distract him from his original intentions, pupils blown wide, chest heaving and lips parted into an adorable pout. he can’t resist climbing on top of you, lording over you for a moment to gaze at your expression. no one else would ever see you like this. “billy, please,” you whine.

he bites back a smile. you’re so cute, not even sure what you’re asking for, content to let him decide what to give you and when. it feels as if he’s gonna burst into flames. “open your mouth, sweetheart,” he murmurs and you do.

fuck, he wants to ruin you. to see how much you’ll take, what you’ll let him do. he curls four fingers around your jaw and pushes his thumb into your mouth. your eyes flutter closed and you wrap your plush lips around the digit, lavishing attention onto it with your tongue. he’s painfully hard, all coherent thought rushing south with his blood. “good girl,” he praises just to watch you squirm, rubbing thighs he knows are soaked together.

as much as he wants to fuck you, he still has to address the matter at hand. when he pulls out your phone, your eyebrows furrow and your eyes move around his face. you don’t say anything, waiting for his direction or explanation. the power you give him over you makes his cock throb, he’s aching to be inside of you, to mark you inside and out. he leans forward and presses your foreheads together. “you’re mine.” he says darkly. “all these fuckers begging for your attention, but that’s mine too. all of you, every inch. isn’t it, baby?”

and you’re perfect, nodding along to his every word, eyes wide and desperate. he pulls back to take the picture, sending it without a second thought. it’s a close up, nothing visible besides his hand wrapped around your throat and the bruising on your skin but he’s committed the image you make to memory. the message ‘she’s not interested’ follows the picture and within seconds, the seen notification appears.

billy’s done with this nobody, he’s got an obedient little angel to take care of. he tosses your phone on the bed and focuses all his attention on you. the guy unsends the message. so does every one after him.

[velvetvexations]

Hi Velvet, hope you’re well!

I’ve just spent the past several days going on a mass blocking spree of every transradfem I can find, and I gotta say I’m starting to think that as a community this might be the better approach to take going forward. While I very much understand why people leave these bigoted accounts unblocked and continue to try engaging with them and documenting them, as someone who has been keeping a close eye on this discourse for over a year now, 99% of the time these people have no desire to engage in good faith and are completely unwilling to listen to any opinion they don’t already agree with. I think we have reached a point where continuing to platform these people - even if it’s only to call them out on their BS - is doing more harm than good. I’m not saying we shouldn’t continue to speak out about the issues of radfem ideology in the trans community or pretend like it’s not happening, but I’m tired of seeing every single discussion of transandrophobia get derailed by bigots. I’m tired of community infighting taking center stage, I’m tired of posts needing a million disclaimers, I’m tired of discussion revolving around “proving” that transandrophobia even exists in the first place when that should just be a given, I’m tired of seeing an increase in actual transmisogynistic behavior from a handful of transmascs that comes as a reaction to being constantly exposed to so much transandrophobia from transfems, which just adds fuel to the flames on both sides.

I know this is tumblr discourse and not really an actual united community so maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I do believe if we could start collectively being more aggressive about just blocking all these people who are only here to stir shit, maybe we can actually start making our voices heard by a wider audience. There are still so many people out there who have no idea what transandrophobia is, or are only vaguely aware that it’s some current discourse-related term, and I think our efforts would be better focused on educating and informing those groups as opposed to arguing with people who have already decided we’re evil. Again, I totally get where everyone is coming from and I don’t think the folks trying to engage with bigots are doing anything wrong (in fact I admire their courage and patience), I just think it’s proven to be largely ineffective and maybe it’s time we make a collective effort to change our approach if we ever want to move on from these circular discussions that go nowhere. I think people who are genuinely just ignorant about transandrophobia would be far more likely to engage with the topic if the replies and reblogs weren’t full of arguments, and I think a mass-blocking effort would be the best way to kick TRFs out of the discussion and stop letting them control the narrative.

Anyway, I wanted to send this to you because 1. I know a lot of people involved in these discussions follow you so I thought it might be a better way to get this idea out there than posting from my own blog, and 2. I genuinely want to know what your thoughts are on this, since I know you’ve personally done a lot of work directly confronting TRFs - and again, I genuinely admire your willingness to do so, I’m just concerned that it’s not really getting us anywhere and wondered whether or not you would support a collective change in tactics.

p.s. I don’t really love the idea of public blocklists as I think it’s better for people to use their own judgement rather than relying on the word of others, so I’m not advocating for smth like that. however I’ve found that blocklists aren’t really necessary because it really is a relatively small community of TRFs who all reblog from each other, so it’s very easy to just find a couple popular posts from one of them with a larger following and use the notes as a blocklist. It’s a bit tedious, but after blocking 100 or so blogs I’ve found that the transandrophobia/transmisogyny tags have become far more usable and from there it’s easy to block any bigots that slip through, so this is what I would recommend others to do as well.

TLDR; this is a call to action to stop giving TRFs a place in the conversation and start treating them the same way we should be treating every other group of bigots: block on sight and do not engage

That's not kicking them out of the discussion, it's kicking yourself out of the discussion. You can not engage with them if you don't want to but ignoring bigots doesn't make bigots go away and unlike Christofascists engagement with TRFs actually has a better than zero chance of making a difference to either them, their followers, your followers, or anyone else that sees you deconstruct their arguments.

[batneko]

Another look into the Knight and Lord AU! This time, let's see which other roles have been swapped...

Luigi had been… well, brooding was probably the correct term, wandering the grand hall and looking at portraits of kings past. He was examining a ruling queen and wondering if she'd fought for her position or simply been the only available head to put a crown on, when he heard the patter of running feet and the door burst open. From the corner of his eye he noticed Bowser straighten up and his hand go for his sword, but both of them relaxed when they saw the slim figure in yellow and orange barreling down the hall.

“Daisy!” Luigi exclaimed, a second before she grabbed him in a hug. "Oof! You're- Is it good news?"

Her face stiffened as she pulled away. "I missed you. Isn't that good enough?"

Luigi forced a smile. "It's good to see you too."

He tried not to be disappointed. If they'd found something he would have heard before she showed up in person. He knew that, and yet…

"So then why are you-"

Suddenly Daisy stepped past him and stretched her arm out, as if blocking him from view. "Prince Luigi, stay behind me."

"What?" Luigi said. He looked around her shoulder to see Bowser, still standing next to the marble pillar he'd chosen as his leaning place while Luigi brooded, though now with his arms crossed across his breastplate.

"How did you get in the castle?" Daisy demanded. "You're lucky I'm the one who came back, if Peach saw you-"

Bowser ignored her. He unfolded his arms (making Daisy put up her dukes) and pressed one fist against his chest, keeping his eyes fixed dead ahead.

"Sire, your permission to make a patrol?"

He was never that formal unless he was making a point.

"Yes, Sir Bowser," Luigi said. "You're excused."

Bowser bowed, lower than he needed to, and marched past them and out the door Daisy had left standing open.

It wasn't even shut before Daisy leaned over to Luigi and hissed, "Him?"

"Yes," Luigi said simply. "Daisy-"

"You knighted him? You remember who that is, don't you?"

Luigi couldn't stop from rolling his eyes. "Of course I do."

"Why would you knight him? Did he do something like- like saving your life?"

"Actually-"

"Because he probably set it up to get close to you!"

“I asked him,” Luigi said. “Personally.”

“You asked? And he said yes?” 

“It’s already been three months, if he was going to try something he’s had plenty of opportunities.”

“He might be getting everyone’s guard down!”

“He’s been nothing but loyal! He saved my life twice!”

“But why him?” Daisy demanded. “Why him, out of all people? After everything he’s-”

“You were gone!” Luigi exclaimed.

For a moment she stared at him, silent. He hadn’t meant for it to come out accusatory, but… it wasn’t exactly wrong.

Luigi swallowed down his feelings and tried to explain things calmly. “My brother disappeared, and the kingdom’s famous heroes are away looking for him,” Luigi said. “I can handle myself in a fight, but I don’t look it. People tend to think I’m a pushover. it’s better for the kingdom to avoid fights, so I needed someone who could stand next to me and look like too much trouble to be worth starting any.”

“So… you wanted a goon?” Daisy said. She, too, was making an effort to keep her voice calm and steady. “You could find plenty of people who fit that description. Why this one?”

“Not a goon,” Luigi said. “Well, not just a goon. I wanted a ‘loyal opposition.’ Someone with a different opinion about the way things should be done.”

“You knighted him to disagree with you?”

“Pretty much,” Luigi said. “As a leader, it’s always valuable to listen to the people that disagree with you. Usually they just want someone else - like themself - to be in charge, or to go back to what they think were better times, but sometimes they have valid points. Sometimes they’re closer to the common people, sometimes they’ve thought of things you haven’t…” Luigi smiled to himself. “Bowser… He cares about this kingdom. He never left, you know? And he could have. But he stayed here, even after being declared an enemy of the crown. He cares more than he hates.”

Daisy shook her head. “If you say so…”

“I do say so,” Luigi said. “And besides-”

He stopped.

“What?” Daisy asked.

“No, it’s nothing. Nevermind.”

“Tell me,” Daisy said, with a smile. “Come on.”

Luigi took a breath. “I kind of feel bad about this, but… After Mario disappeared, Bowser was the first one we looked at, remember?”

“I remember,” Daisy said. “He’d been seen around the city every day, he couldn’t have done it.”

“Yes, and… that got me thinking. Bowser was the most likely person to come for the throne now that only I was standing in the way. If I got him on my side, I’d eliminate the biggest threat and protect myself from the rest in the same move.”

Daisy’s eyes widened. “That is cold.”

Luigi hunched his shoulders. “I’m king now, I have to think practically.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Daisy said. “And if you’re right and he’s loyal, your plan worked perfectly.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better about it,” Luigi said.

Daisy clapped him on the shoulder, hard enough that it stung. “You’re sure though? I mean, really? You’re certain he’s loyal?”

“Yes, Daisy.” Luigi rolled his eyes. “I told you, he saved my life. Even if it’s only because it would lose him this cushy position, that’s still loyalty.”

“Saving your life is literally the least a knight could do.”

“He does more than that,” Luigi said. He felt himself smiling again. “He’s even started trying to save me from myself, lately. I’ve been working too hard. There’s a lot to do, but… mostly it’s just easier to work than think. The other night, Bowser practically dragged me to bed.”

Daisy’s eyes widened.

“That came out wrong.”

Daisy squeezed his shoulder. “Prince- I mean, King Luigi. Tell me you’re not in love with him.”

Luigi opened his mouth to deny it, but he must have been more tired of this conversation - and the dozen other conversations he’d had like it - than he thought, because what came out was, “Would it matter if I was?”

“Luigi!” Daisy exclaimed.

“I’m serious. Would it make a difference if I was- was giving him unprecedented access to the royal person every night?”

“Luigi!” Daisy said again, but this time there was laughter in it.

“Because you don’t seem to trust my judgment either way.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you…” Daisy said. "I guess… I just can't see myself making the same choice?"

“It was still mine to make.”

“You’re right,” Daisy said. “You’re right.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“So… why did you come back?” Luigi asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you!” he added quickly. “But you’ve both been sending letters up until now. What changed?”

“It is technically good news,” Daisy said. “We were at a dead end for… longer than I wanted you to know, but we finally picked up the trail again! Peach is trying to gain the trust of some people who might know more, and that’s a lot easier for one person to do than two, so I thought I’d get out of her hair.”

“That is good,” Luigi said. “Then you’re staying for a while?”

“At least a few days. I should check on the house, stock up on supplies, but none of that will take long.”

“Great,” Luigi said, taking her arm. “I want you to tell me everything.”

“Are you sure?” Daisy asked. “A lot of it’s… frustrating.”

“Everything,” Luigi repeated, firmly.

And outside in the hallway, standing next to the door which had never fully closed, Bowser had clenched his fists so hard he was trembling.

Would it matter if I was?

Would it matter if I was?

Would it matter

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Haikiyuu[Kenma Kozume X Reader] People Pleasing comfort

Guys I was a huge people pleaser myself, until I realized the more 'happier' I try to make someone else feel, the more I lose myself. Please channel all this energy to loving yourself.

1. Kenma never really had a lot of opinions on anything really, he never thought that he required it, but he is a great judge of a character and is very observant.

2. So, kenma could tell he had to stop ignoring the matter, during the starting of your relationship even if he noticed the small upsets in your behaviour, or sometimes how much you would try to hold in your tears, he was concerned, but he stopped himself many times from asking you.

3. He didnt feel like that was his buissness, you actually really liked Kenma due, to how observant he was, he'd walk with you in the park even though he wasn't a outdoor person at all.

4. He even came with you to the Karaoke to hear you spill out your heart to sad romantic songs, thank god there was a separate room.

5. You had an extremely moldable personality, that could be broken and used according to how others wanted.

6. It was 7-30pm where you were found by Kenma crying, he knew it was expected sooner or later, "Hey, c-can I sit next to you?" Even though Kenma asked it politely, it wasn't the tone of a question he seemed dead serious.

"What are you doing exactly?" Kenma asked before he could stop himself that day in a moment of frustration piled over weeks.

7. The tone surprised you, you were so used to hearing his soft calm voice, you had begun to think his vocal chords could not stretch more.

8. "K-kenma? What's wrong?"

9. "Seriously." Kenma held the swing you were sitting at so that he could face you more easily, "You know very well the problem, your getting hurt for being alive, stop it."

10. Your heart raced faster, you tried to get up and walk away, but Kenma's body blocked your way and he seemed unnaturally admant on getting this through your head.

11. "Maybe, my personality is really not likable right? Or I am to easily angered--"

12. "You know that's not true, or is that what you think of me also?" Kenma really didn't right now wanted it to make it about himself right now,

13. "Listen let's talk tomorrow okay?" You tried to avoid, or dismiss the talking again, because you were honestly scared to loose kenma.

"Y/n, I have already done enough avoiding the topic, but... I don't want to see you so upset, I think your so lovable you shouldn't focus on those no-brainers..." Kenma softly said, your ears to cheeks turned red, "W-what?"

14. "Don't give them so much time, I know this isn't something that will just evaporate and I know we just started dating... so... just forget that part and let's do something to help you see how amazing you are."

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day Seven - Prompt: Improvisation @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 875 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

After he blocked Barty’s number, Evan buried his face in the pillows and sobbed. He barely held his emotions in check for the entirety of that brief confrontation, until Barty cried out. Ignoring the pain and desperation in his voice were beyond his limits. Evan’s ribs cracked wide open when his heart was wrenched from his chest.

Deep, raspy breaths echoed around him as he plunged his face beneath the pillows. His lungs ached and his throat was swollen shut. This was the first time he’d cried in years and he didn’t know how to make it stop. It was too much for one person to take.

One month in and he’s ruined me. One bloody month.

Four full weeks of Barty “trying so fucking hard.” Of course, Evan noticed the effort. He was thrilled that he’d finally found someone who cared about him enough to try. Knowing that it was really just Barty’s attempt at atonement cheapened everything they had. Or at least, what he thought they had.

Was any of it real? Did it mean anything to him at all?

Evan scrubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t want to believe that Barty would be so callous, but now that he knew the truth, everything was suspect. Every line Barty used, promises that he made, and feelings he shared could be a lie. Their entire relationship was an elaborate improvisation of an apology to Regulus.

What if he hoped to win Regulus back? What if I was just a means to an end?

Unfortunately, it made sense. Evan knew that he didn’t hold up to someone like Regulus. He wasn’t just handsome, he was stunning. Regulus was beautiful in a way that defied reality. Sure, he was often a prick, but he was so pretty!

I can’t blame Barty for wanting him back.

It wasn’t even a blow to his own self-esteem. Evan knew that he was fit, but objectively, he couldn’t compare himself to Regulus when they weren’t competing in the same league. They weren’t even playing the same sport. Barty was a fluke, he wasn’t even Regulus’s type.

Evan patted around the quilt for his mobile. When he found it, he quickly looked up the photos that Pandora sent to him of Regulus’s new boyfriend. James was fit as fuck and she said that they were obsessed with each other. There was no way that Regulus would give him up for Barty, right?

“I would. In a heartbeat,” Evan whispered. He rested his chin on his arm as he swiped through the pictures. “A hockey player? What use is a git like that anyway? He’d bore me in a week, tops. Although, I wouldn’t mind shagging him.”

His phone lit up with a new call and for a moment he considered throwing it. Barty had so many bloody burners to avoid debt calls and set up buys for weed that Evan doubted he could block them all. When Dorcas’s face appeared, he sighed with relief.

“Hi Dorcas.”

“Well, don’t you sound cheery?”

“Not today. What’s up?” he said, grateful she hadn’t FaceTimed.

Dorcas hesitated, then sighed. “I need an unbiased opinion on something and I don’t think either of my flatmates can see past their rose-colored glasses at the moment. Do you have a minute? I think I just need to talk this out.”

“Yeah, go on.”

“So, I heard that my ex is in Wales with the rest of them. She was the DJ at the festival they attended last night and is joining them for the rest of the week. Am I mad to want to meet her there? That’s foolish, right?”

Evan hummed thoughtfully as he considered the situation. He didn’t know much about Dorcas’s ex-girlfriend, other than they broke up because long-distance was too hard. It was rare for Dorcas to reach out to him for advice though, so he was careful with his wording.

“Unless you think seeing her would fix the long-distance issue, I can’t see how it would help.”

Dorcas was silent for a long moment, but he could hear her nails tapping in the background. She wasn’t one for impulsive decisions. It was the primary reason that she and Pandora were friends. They balanced each other out and kept each other in check. Well, it took Regulus and Dorcas to balance out his sister’s level of chaos, really.

“That’s what I thought,” she said finally. “If there was a way, we’d have found it already. I’ll just hurt my own feelings going to see her, then having to leave again.”

“It’s been a while hasn’t it?” Evan prompted. He needed this distraction.

“Yes, a little over a year now. We cut ties a month later because it was too hard to pretend that we were just friends.”

Understandable. Barty and I could never be friends either.

Evan traced the pattern on his quilt with his fingernail as he listened to Dorcas talk about her ex and the shite situation that broke them apart. He agreed when he was meant to and scoffed as expected. Normal couples had such mundane problems. All relationships are challenging at times, but most were rather boring.

Are they actually boring, or have I officially gone ‘round the bend?

Next Part>>>

[lynaferns]

It's kind of hard to not have the mentally of "it's not accurate anymore, so why bother" because the big voices in the fandom are literally loudly celebrating like "YES! I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THIS! HE HATES HIS JOB AND HATES KIDS! IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE PROVEN RIGHT!" And honestly, it makes people like me, who just recently had the courage to share my au, scared of sharing it now. I don't want to be constantly bothered by "that's not canon" "no, he wouldn't say/act like that" "you're misrepresenting his character" messages all the time.

I get this feeling, this is how I spend my first year in the community in silence. Which can be agonizing because you feel like you're drowning between popular interpretations that are far away from yours and if you show that you have a different point of view of the character they are going to jump to your neck.

But you know what? There is always someone that will share your opinions, and get invested in your AUs. Besides, you're in a pretty accepting fandom with mermaids, cryptics, dragons, fae, vampires, gods, etc etc, AUs everywhere.

If someone calls you out for not being "canon accurate" you let them know that it's an Alternative Universe and if they keep bothering you, you have all the rights to block them, you owe them nothing.

Besides, people are really fast to point out and say "I WAS RIGHT AND YOU WERE WROOOONG". This happened when ruin came out, they found the Moon plush with Casey's thought about the DCA and people were like "YES Moon was soft in the past and got evil because of the virus, FUCK YOU evil moon enjoyers >:D he's actually good!" (literally saw someone say something like that and it was so random) and it's like, so what??? This doesn't stop me from writing Moon evil, I'm going to write him however I want, I'm not gonna write a f i c t i o n a l character in a way I don't feel right with.

It's ok if you don't feel comfortable in sharing your AU right now but don't let the fear of sharing your art hold you back. I wouldn't be here where I am if I was taken aback out of fear from sharing my art and AUs (AUs in which the most accurate one the animatronics has dart guns and DCA has a whole arsenal in his pants, like-)

Give yourself a little time out of the fandom, let things cool down a little and keep writing that AU, or make new ones you find comfort in, whatever will make you happy do it.

I know it's easier said than done...