#in fact he hates their guts. he also hates his dad but for different and more justifiable reasons (didn't even know calcazar was his father

[chais-corner]

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men react to different insecurities Part 2

Pairings: Nanami x reader who doesn't want kids (requested by anons) Gojo x reader who gained weight (requested by anon) Megumi x reader who has a hooked nose (requested by @monikosworld)

Word Count: 3,2k

Warnings: as usual, please don't read if you feel triggered by those topics, Nanami's and Gojo's part are a little angst to extreme fluff, remember you are beautiful just the way you are (all those JJK men agree with me after all) and none of those insecurities take away from that 🤍

Especially for this series I'm very thankful for every feedback in terms of comments, likes and/or reblogs since it's pretty challenging for me to write 🤍

click here for Part 1 with Nanami (reader with facial scars), Megumi (reader with small breasts) and Sukuna (reader with acne)

Also, I wish everyone of you the happiest holidays ever! May all your dreams and wishes come true and remember to stay just the way you are - you are perfect 🌹

Kento Nanami with a reader who doesn't want kids

Your heart skips a beat when his gaze meets yours, his elegant steps trapping you in place. God, how is it possible for a man to be this gorgeous, how is it even allowed for him to look this good? When you first met Kento Nanami, you fell in love with him at first sight. Nothing about this man could ever throw you off.

Except for the stinging fact that he seems like the perfect father.

The way he acts especially around Yuji Itadori warms and breaks your heart at the same time. Even though he never specifically said that he wants to have children someday, you can just tell by the loving gleam in his eyes when Yuji isn’t paying attention how much he cares for that boy. And while you get why he feels this way, it makes your guts turn.

You never wanted kids. Not your own, not adopted, not a single thought of urging for a baby ever crossed your mind. You love your life the way it is, maybe with a pet when you finally settled in, but children? They were never part of the plan.

But this is important, right? How would it even be possible for a romantic relationship to work when such a life-changing decision differs? You don’t even have to ask him about this. The way he always saves children first, how he acts towards the young students, his dad-like appearance when something happens to them. Oh, how you love it and hate it at the same time. Over the past months, you grew very close to each other, spent evening after evening at each other’s places. He began to bring you flowers on a regular basis, even cuddling you to sleep when you come back from an exhausting mission.

You can’t give him more, though. Not when it’s so obvious that you want different things in life, not when your relationship is going to fail before it even started.

“There you are, I searched everywhere for you.”

He presses a gentle kiss against your cheek, making your heart ache in agony all over again. How are you supposed to get out of this? Damn, you don’t even want to get out, you want to be by his side until the end of time, you want to fall asleep and wake up next to this man. But deep down, you know this isn’t fair, that it isn’t possible to live a life like this without giving up your principles or forcing him to give up the thought of having children someday.

“There is something very important I wanted to talk about for a long time. (y/n), you make me feel better than I ever did in my entire life, the time I have with you is so precious to me that I can’t even put it into words. I know this might sound strange and I don’t know if this is the correct way to do it but I was wondering if you…if you want to make it official.”

You feel like fainting and throwing up at the same time, eyes for a single spark of humour in his gleaming orbs. This is great!

Your heart sinks.

No, actually it isn’t. Because this is the time you’ll have to push him away. This innocent question is the end of the wonderful thing you’ve had. Why? Why are you so suborn? Why is the thought of having children so disgusting for you? Aren’t you able to change for the love of your life, for the sake of the strong feelings you have for Kento Nanami?

You shake your head, hands clenched into tight fists. No. There is absolutely no way you’ll gift Kento a child just to keep him. This wouldn’t be fair, right? Fair for you, fair for the child, fair for Kento. He deserves someone who loves this idea truly, someone who is able to give him what he needs.

And that someone isn’t you.

“I can’t give you what you want, Kento.”

Your monotone voice catches him off guard, your words cracking his heart like a walnut. This doesn’t make any sense, it seems almost unbelievable.

“But you are what I want, (y/n).”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, you bark so suddenly that he flinches, crossing your arms in front of your chest and staring at the ground.

“I can’t give you what you want, the future you deserve.”

“What is it that you’re insecure about? Why would you think there is something you aren’t able to give me?”

“I don’t want kids”, you mutter.

He draws closer, hands about to gently grab your chin when you slap his hand away furious.

“I don’t want kids!”, you shout.

Fuck, why do your eyes have to burn in hot tears right now, why do you have to feel so miserable about this? It’s nothing uncommon, you are enough without having children, you are…

You are not what he wants. And that’s what hurts the most.

Thick silence hangs between both of you, Kento’s hand resting in the air. You don’t even dare to look at him, his face of disappointment would be more than you are able to handle. Why didn’t you tell him sooner? Why did you allow yourself to fall for him when you knew right from the start that this won’t work out long-term?

“Is that what you’re feeling so doubtful about? That you don’t want children?”

You nod silently, the big knot forming in your throat stopping you from saying another word. Breaking down and crying in front of him is the last thing you want to do right now.

“I don’t want children either.”

Oh.

Your glossy eyes dart up in an instant, his hands grabbing yours.

“Even though I will always care and look after children, I don’t want them to carry the burden of this world. I am a jujutsu sorcerer just like you are, we are doomed to risk our lives for the sake of others. I couldn’t forgive myself if I leave a child behind without its father, let alone you. Your wish isn’t a problem for me at all, (y/n).”

You have to blink a few times, mind desperately trying to process his words. The Kento Nanami doesn’t want kids. The thing you were always afraid of…

Isn’t even a problem.

“You don’t want kids as well”, you breathe out.

“I don’t want kids as well, yes.”

“Oh.”

Without hesitation, he pulls you into his arms. Is this a dream? Did it really turn out good? You were always rejected for not wanting children, for disliking the thought of raising a baby. But him, he looks at you with so much affection in his eyes that you almost tear up.

“And I admire you for standing your ground. I know how critical people are when it comes to a person who doesn’t want kids. I always appreciated you for your inner strength, (y/n).”

“I love you, Kento”, you blurt out.

You waste no time. In the matter of seconds, you press your lips longingly against his, set all your feelings free. This is everything you ever dreamed of, all you ever wanted.

Not only did you find a man who accepts you the way you are, but this man happens to me none other than Kento Nanami.

“I love you too, (y/n)”, he mumbles against your lips softly.

Satoru Gojo with a reader who gained some weight

You stare at the number on the scale, eyes watering in defeat. It shouldn’t surprise you that you gained a fair amount of weight. After all, you’ve been so stressed out these past months, roaming from mission to mission and only eating out in consequence. But this, this shocks you. This, this breaks you.

The keys of the main door turn, his long steps linger down the hallways. It’s because of him. Satoru Gojo, your precious boyfriend. The man who fell in love with you years ago and loved you ever since. He is such a good-looking and loving man. And in contrast to you, he’s as fit as he was at the beginning of your relationship.

With a swift motion you lock the bathroom door and let yourself glide down the cold tiles behind you, tears now running down your face like a waterfall. Why do you have to be so damn undisciplined? It shouldn’t be this hard to just eat less, it shouldn’t be this hard to have control over your body.

But it is. And that’s why you’re looking the way you do. It hit you like a wall when your clothes didn’t fit the way they did a few months ago, it almost killed you when a friend of you pointed out what you desperately tried to supress.

“Oh, you gained quite some weight, (y/n)! I almost didn’t recognize you.”

He doesn’t deserve this. No, Satoru deserves a partner who takes care of themselves, he deserves someone who is as fit as himself. Even though not a single negative comment about your body ever left his mouth, you know what he must think – just like everyone else.

And you hate yourself for letting it come this far.

“Babe, are you in there?”

The sound of his fingers knocking against the wooden door makes you panic. No, he can’t see you like this, the only thing you’re wearing is underwear and a t-shirt. The way your thighs giggle with every move, your visible belly, the stretch marks covering your thighs and arms…

He might leave you sooner or later.

“If you’re not answering, I’m just coming in-“

“No”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I don’t want to see you right now.”

It shouldn’t surprise you at all that he opens the door with ease, his feet coming to a stand in front of your cramped-up figure on the floor.

“You never said something like this to me. Hey, are you cryin’?”

Just when you’re about to turn away from him, he lifts you off the ground and presses your body against his faster than you could ever react. You want to hide in a tiny hole, disappear out of his arms. But instead, your eyes are locked with his bright blue orbs.

“What’s wrong babe? I’ve never seen you like this. A snack like you shouldn’t sit here all alone while cryin’.”

“Don’t call me a snack”, you bark at him with more force than intended.

God, how much you hate yourself at the moment. He doesn’t deserve the way you speak to him at all. To be honest, Satoru deserves so much better than you anyway and that fact alone kills you from the inside.

“Why, huh? Am I not allowed to call my girlfriend hot now?”

“I’M FAT, MORON!”

The venomous words escape your mouth before you are able to stop yourself, your pathetic sniffles hollering back at you in disgust. This is so ridiculous. You shouldn’t lash out at him because you feel bad about yourself, you shouldn’t even complain. After all, everything is your own fault.

“You have to be kidding, right? Is this some kind of joke, is a camera behind the mirror?”

You can’t get a hold of yourself anymore. With a swift motion you rip yourself out of his grasp and storm out of the room, not even listening to the things he shouts after you. Isn’t it humiliating enough that he made you say it out loud? Why would you joke about something like this? Your shaky hands grab your keys, ready to leave your shared apartment when he comes storming after you.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. Just look at me, okay?”

Just before you are able to open the door, Satoru’s strong arms grab you from behind and pull you against his chest.

“Don’t you dare to say something like that ever again, (y/n). You’ve been through so much these last months and honestly, I love you more than I ever did before. I’m incredibly proud of the person you’ve became and you’ll always be the hottest chick around. I didn’t even notice that you gained a little weight and I give zero shits about it. You’re hot, you’re gorgeous, you are my girlfriend. And a single number on a random scale will never change that.”

Your whole body begins to tremble as you let yourself fall against him, a sniffle of relief escaping before you are able to stop it. Satoru was never good at playing with words, let alone showing his emotions linguistically. But those oh so sweet words that seem to heal your heart in an instant…

You are truly lucky to have him.

“You really don’t care that I gained some weight?”, you murmur, turning around in his arms in order so see his face.

“I couldn’t care less. And now get your cute ass back at the couch and watch some Netflix, okay?”

Megumi with a reader who has a hooked nose

Megumi can’t help but huff in disappointment when looking at you. There you are again, hiding your gorgeous face behind a mask. You do it day in and day out, stating this is very common and that you don’t want to breathe in all the dust and rubble from the big city.

But you lie. He can tell by the way your eyes dart to the ground and how a slight blush creeps up what’s visible of your cheeks. The first and last time he has seen your gorgeous face was when you wandered around the hallways late at night, obviously not expecting him to be around. You looked so scared back then, your hands instantly covering half of your face.

He always wondered why. Was it because your sense of smell is so good? Is it because he stinks? Instinctively, Megumi lifts up his arm and takes in his own scent. No, it doesn’t seem as if he’s the problem.

“Hi Megumi, how are you today?”

“Why are you always wearing that mask, (y/n)?”

Your heart stops for a second, widen eyes staring at the boy in front of you in nothing but shock. Oh, how often you already tried to fool him, how often you didn’t tell him how you feel. The truth is that you hate the way your nose looks. Every other girl seems to have the perfect little nose, perfectly shaped, cute and innocent.

But you? Your nose is hooked, not straight, tiny or cute by any means. The second you look into the mirror, it seems to stare right through your soul and makes all of your decent facial features fade into the background. Yes, you truly hate the way your nose looks so much that you rather hide it behind a mask each and every day. Especially from him.

Megumi has been your secret crush for quite some time by now, but you never had the courage to tell him, let alone ask him out. Why would he want to be with you anyway? With all those beautiful girls like Nobara and Maki surrounding him, you have nothing to give.

“W-what do you mean?”, you stutter, eyes meeting the ground in an instant.

“You told me over and over you do it because of the dust in the air, but that’s not true, isn’t it? Are you insecure about something?”

“I- you-, M-Megumi…”

You don’t know what to say, completely bamboozled by the way he seems to stare right through your soul. How did he find out you lied? Was it because your cheek turned bright pink? Or was it the fact that you weren’t even able to look in his eyes? Frantically, you try to find a way out of this misery. Maybe a new lie? No, he will smell it from a mile away. Being honest? He’ll definitely make fun of you. But this is Megumi, he isn’t-

“(y/n)”, he interrupts your train of thoughts.

“Let me take of that mask for you.”

You can’t move, let alone talk. With your eyes widen in horror you watch as his hands come closer and closer, fingertips gently gliding behind your ear. This is the moment you’ve been afraid of ever since meeting him. What if he scrunches up his face in disgust? What if he even laughs at you like all those children at school back then?

His eyes roam around your face for what feels like an eternity, face showing not a single emotion. Is this good? Is it bad? Your heart pounds against your ribcage, trembling fingertips intertwined with each other. Please, let this be over soon.

“Maybe I should go-“

“You look absolutely mesmerising. I think I’ve never seen a girl as beautiful as you, (y/n). Why would you hide yourself behind a mask?”

You have to blink a few times in order to process that this is really happening. Yes, Megumi Fushiguro is standing in front of you, looking at nothing but your face while saying that you’re beautiful.

Megumi Fushiguro…Think you’re beautiful?

“B-But…My nose is hooked”, you reply.

“I always thought it makes me look horrible.”

“Horrible?”, he remarks.

“You’re not looking horrible at all. I love the way your nose makes your face looks strong but feminine. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

The butterflies in your stomach slowly but surely go crazy by now. You must be dreaming all of this. It can’t be Megumi standing in front of you and saying all those nice things, right?

“Really?”

He adores the way your face lights up in an instant. How is it possible that you are this surprised? Did no one tell you already how beautiful you are?

“Of course. I mean every word I say. Also, there’s something I wanted to ask you…”

Him, wanting to ask you something? Megumi scratches the back of his head awkwardly while clearing his throat. Is that a little blush creeping up his cheeks?

“Do you…Do you want to go out with me this evening? We could grab something to eat and I don’t know, watch a movie or something.”

“You really want to go on a date with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Breathe in, breathe out. Don’t let him see how excited you are.

“I’d love that.”

You turn on your heel and walk out of the room frantically. No, you can’t contain yourself any longer. With a cry of joy, you jump up and down, hand gently rubbing over your nose.

Maybe this isn’t as bad as you thought. Maybe all it takes is a single person who does not only accept you, but adore you just the way you are.

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @chilichopsticks

[lazycats-stuff]

Another request, hope it’s not bad.

But batbro!reader who was raised to be perfect. Who’s older than Damian bur younger than Tim. But I was thinking maybe Bruce and readers mum have split custody and his mum is very demanding, the reader doing things like music and ballet (I just love dancing bc I was a dancer) and their mum pushes them to be perfect, in that and schoolwork and belittles then if it’s not perfect.

Like they are worse than most of the family, not sleeping and always studying or pushing his body to the limits with practice.

The family is going to a dancing competition for Cassandra and the reader is performing but they don’t know, reader not getting first place and they see how his mother reacts badly, maybe belittling the reader, their reaction maybe.

Hope it makes sense, if you are uncomfortable with it dw🫶. I’ve seen so many assassin or killer ones.

Oh I hate those types of parents... Thankfully, my parents are not like this... Thanks mom and dad. Also, not a dancer so any inaccuracies are on me. Also, I don't know why this is so short???

Summary: (Y/N)'s mom is awful. Bruce finds out.

Warnings: the mom is awful, belittling, the fam is not having it and neither is the author, verbal abuse

Standards are important in life. With the said standards you choose important things in life. Partners are one of the most important thing you need to choose by your standards, but there is no such thing as perfection. There is no such thing as being a perfect person in anything you can do.

Everyone makes mistakes.

But that's something that (Y/N)'s mother doesn't seem to understand. Both her and Bruce taught her that it's important to have standards. But they had different approaches.

(Y/N)'s mom wanted nothing more than perfection. Bruce only wanted (Y/N) to give him his best. And with sharing custody with his mother made things far more difficult for the teen. Bruce noticed how tired he was and how he looked like he was on the verge of sleeping every single time he sees (Y/N).

But the mom couldn't care less. She wanted her son to be perfect. And if he didn't achieve what she had in mind? Well, he would get grounded and shouted at.

(Y/N) didn't even want to remember all the insults she screamed at him over the years. He doesn't want to remember the fact that she was his mother. But he knew that the custody agreement wouldn't change.

They always favor the mothers rather than fathers.

The only thing where he could let go of those insults and thoughts was ballet. It was his biggest passion and it was supported by both his mother and Bruce. Bruce always tried to come on every single recital that (Y/N) had and he was always the loudest person in there.

However, (Y/N) was competing against his adopted sister Cassandra. (Y/N) didn't tell them, because his mom didn't want Bruce to know. She was often like that, trying to rob Bruce of a lot of things. (Y/N) didn't like that at all, but he couldn't go against her.

After Cassandra was finished, (Y/N) saw that he had a good competitor. He stretched behind in the wings, getting himself mentally ready.

He would really have to reach deep inside himself in order to win.

(Y/N) was happy with how he did and now they waited for the awards. Cassandra and (Y/N) knew that it would be a tight race for the first place.

One thing that he didn't expect to hear was that he got second place. He smiled, but his gut dropped. Oh no. No. Not happening. This can't be happening.

He accepted the award with a smile, but he could see him mom in the crowd. She was fuming. He looked to look at his father, who was smiling at him, showing him a thumbs up. That was a little bit comforting.

After they have finished, he changed into the normal clothes. He took a deep breath as he saw his mother.

" Second place? Do you know how you embarrassed I am? " She whispered harshly. Bruce congratulated Cassandra and then walked towards the duo.

" You are a failure. " She said and Bruce saw red. Not happening.

" (Y/N)? Please go to your brothers. " Bruce said, a tight smile on his face.

The said brothers were glaring at (Y/N)'s mother, ready to give her the piece of their mind. They welcomed (Y/N), saying that he did a good job. (Y/N) nodded, but he didn't really believe it.

Bruce was chewing his mom out and said that that he will have full custody of his son. No child of his will be berated.

" Hey (Y/N), you are going to stay with me from now on. " Bruce said, hugging his son.

" What about mom? " (Y/N) asked.

" Don't worry about her. I don't want you to go back to her. I don't want you to go through the abuse. And as soon as I can, I will file for full custody. Nobody deserves to be abused like that.

[allfryam]

freshman 50 (freshman 15 part 2)

Jake was delusional. He had gained over 15 pounds in the few months he had been at college and he didn’t even know it. He still saw himself as the perfect image of a man. His smooth abs we’re completely gone and he had a bit of a belly covered in a small layer of peach fuzz. Even Ben had noticed jakes weight gain. And he liked it. Ben had a crush on Jake since the moment they became roommates. The perfect brown hair, the ocean blue eyes, and Jake only became hotter as his stomach grew.

Ben realized that Jake was completely oblivious to the fact that he was getting fat. Ben wanted to keep it that way. Whenever Jake would say something about feeling big or eating too much, Ben would shut that idea down by telling Jake how great he looked. He even convinced Jake that the washing machine on campus would shrink his clothes. “Ohhh. That explains why my pants won’t button” Jake would say. Ben would often take jake out for pizza or burgers. Jake would end up eating an entire pizza all by himself because Ben would claim he wasn’t hungry and jake hated wasting food.

by Christmas time, jake had a proper dad bod. His expanding stomach was beginning to hang over his belt and push tight against his biggest shirts. His belly wasn’t the only thing growing either. His ass had gotten significantly larger than before. It would even bounce when he walked. Ben loved it. His thighs had also become thicker. Even his perfect jawline was beginning to fade. When all of his classes stopped for winter break, jake wasn’t getting nearly as much exercise as usual. He would play video games in his underwear and have fast food delivered to his dorm.

jake never told anyone he was gay. He was way too embarrassed to let anyone know. He was even more embarrassed to tell anyone he had a crush on Ben. Ben was so nice to him and he had the perfect body. The dad bod kind of grew on him. One night, jake mustered up the courage to ask Ben out. Ben said yes of course. They would go on dates all the time. Ben would take him to dinner; and jake would devour everything in his sight.

one night, jake decided to step on the scale to make sure he still had his perfect body. 200 pounds. At first, jake was shocked. But he realized the scale must be broken. There was no way he had almost gained 50 pounds in the span of a single semester. He decided to ask ben. “ do I look fat?” “What? No way! You’ve got the perfect body dude”. “But the scale said I was 200 pounds”. “Yikes” ben thought to himself. He knew Jake was getting fat but not THAT fat. “The scale is probably just broken” ben said. “Yeah. You’re right”

holiday treats had a big impact on jakes body. He would go the the store and see fresh treats at the bakery and he couldn’t resist. He would come home with 10 different types of cookies, eggnog, sweet breads, and candies. All of it would be gone by the end of the week. One day he was really hungry and he finished a batch each of gingerbread cookies, chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies, snickerdoodles, peanut butter cookies, brownies, a gallon and a half of eggnog, a loaf of sweet bread, a slice of cake, and a bag full of peppermint m&ms. Not to mention the McDonald’s he had for lunch. Ben didn’t think it was possible to eat that much and survive but here was Jake. Doing it with ease.

when new years came, Jake only had one resolution. Get bigger clothes. None of his clothes fit anymore. Even his baggy sweatpants were skin tight. Bens New Year’s resolution was to make Jake hit 250 pounds without him noticing. This would prove to be a lot easier than Ben thought because little did he know, in December alone, Jake had gained another 35 pounds. Jake was huge. His average dad bod was now a round ball of a stomach. Ben measured it in his sleep one time. 50 inches. Jake had let the peach fuzz on his stomach grow to a nice hairy gut. His ass was also getting to be huge. It would stretch out his pants like crazy and bounced like a wild balloon. His perfect jawline was now replaced by a proper double chin. Jake didn’t even have to look down for it to show. It was always there. Growing. Jakes perfect pecs we’re now large moobs that sat nicely on his large gut. Even Jakes hands were starting to get chubby. They were turning into little greedy sausages. Jakes entire body would move when he walked. He would get out of breath just walking to class. But Ben wasn’t done fattening him up. He had big plans.

[idyllic-affections]

i’m thinking about kaveh first dropping off his kid in ghandarva ville. he did a good job explaining to them that he’ll be back before they know it and that he’ll alway be there for them. before he leaves he feels little hands clutching onto his leg as they just whisper “you promise you’re gonna come back? you won’t leave me, right? you promise you won’t leave me?”

i'll be back.

summary. kaveh finds the strength to leave his child in gandharva ville.

trigger & content warnings. fear of abandonment, references to kaveh's backstory.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. comfort, soft angst. adoptive dad!kaveh & child!reader. 0.9k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. wow you just woke up today and chose gentle violence huh anon /LH i love soft angst. hard angst? yeah, it definitely hurts, but soft angst like this? idk. it hits different sometimes!!!

kaveh did not want to resort to this. he didn't.

the architect truly, sincerely had tried his very best to think of any alternate solutions—maybe he could convince alhaitham to give [name] a chance? no, caring for a child he impulsively decided to pick up off the streets isn't his roommate's responsibility and it really never would be unless the scribe himself decided to take it on, but some people have spontaneous changes of heart! why would alhaitham be any different?

(unfortunately, said man was not going to budge anytime soon. a child would disrupt the comfortable life he had put so much effort into building. kaveh had no choice but to accept that fact. well, really, he knew from the beginning! he was just hoping alhaitham might change.)

in the end, he managed to come up with nothing. he could not think of a single good or attainable option that would allow him to keep them. as much as he hated to admit it, only alhaitham's solution was a viable and reasonable one.

so, here he is, standing in front of tighnari's home in gandharva ville motionlessly with his child held securely in his arms. there were no words in any language that kaveh knew of that could describe what he was feeling. he wordlessly rubs soothing circles on their back.

the silence is impossibly loud.

tighnari does not rush him. he does not so much as even think of complaining. he simply waits quietly with collei at his side, the girl bouncing on her heels slightly in a nervous fidget. she wants to be a good caretaker to [name]; tighnari knows the prospect alone of having to care for them is making her nervous.

kaveh's slightly wavering voice finally breaks the silence:

"you know why i have to leave you here, right?"

they nod quietly, little hands clenched in fists raising up to rub at their watery eyes with their palms—they hope it looks like they're tired and not like they're about to cry, which they are. they hope he doesn't know they're about to cry. they hope he just thinks they're tired from the long journey. they hope he doesn't know the truth.

kaveh knows, of course.

he doesn't say anything about it, though, and only tries to swallow back his own emotions. he tries his best to repress the nauseous feeling stirring in his gut. he tries his best to repress the crawling of his skin. he tries his best to repress the thoughts that this is so impossibly wrong, so impossibly cruel of him.

he hasn't known this child for long, but...

he felt like he was abandoning them.

he felt like he was abandoning his flesh and blood.

absentmindedly, kaveh wondered if this was how his mother felt when she left to fontaine. he hopes not. this feeling is vile. he wouldn't wish it upon his worst enemy.

"and you also know that i'm going to come back all the time to see you, right? and i'm always going to be here if you need me?"

their voice cracks slightly. "yeah."

it's not at all that kaveh doesn't trust tighnari and collei; he does, and he knows they'll take good care of [name], but... still. he wants to be the one taking care of them. he wants to keep them.

he can't.

kaveh then kneels down, and their heart sinks in to the pit of their stomach, despite the fact that they already knew this was inevitably going to happen. just as they dreaded, he sets them down onto their own two feet.

they're reluctant to release their tiny grip from his shirt, but they do so regardless of their hesitance. a slight whimper rises in their throat when kaveh's warmth is gone from them.

kaveh hasn't ever really had to comfort children before.

he's... not sure what to do from here, quite frankly, so he does the first thing that comes to mind.

he leans forward, pressing the smallest, most hesitant of kisses to the crown of their head.

then, he stands up.

he doesn't get very far before one of their little hands is clutching his pant leg, and he inhales sharply, turning back to face them. "[name]..."

kaveh cuts himself off.

their eyes are wide, glittering with the sheen of unshed tears, and their bottom lip is split and cracked—they've either been picking at it or biting it, kaveh notes. how did he not notice before?

in their moment of sadness and stress, their accent peeks through a bit more heavily. it's in a shaky voice on the brink of breaking that they ask, "you promise you're gonna come back, right? you won't leave me, will you?"

...

kaveh earnestly believes he might cry about this when he gets home. oh well. alhaitham will simply have to deal with it.

for now, though, he doesn't cry. he can't.

the architect kneels back down to their height, wiping away the single tear that slid down their cheek with his calloused fingertips. "of course."

"you— you're not gonna leave me, right? you're not leaving me?"

"no. never. i promise, okay?" he whispers. "i'm here, okay? i'm always here if you need me. you just need to tell tighnari. he'll tell me you asked for me and i'll come back here. anytime."

kaveh briefly wonders if he'll regret making such a promise—his clients may suffer if they ask for him at a bad time—but then again...

he can't really say he ever will, not with the way they look at him with such vulnerable trust.

he can't regret it when they're putting their damaged trust into his hands.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Fourteen - A Merry Little Christmas

W/C: 7.5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…

(Cover) Phoebe Bridgers

Warnings: mentions of bad childhood, mentions of parent’s death, issues with mental health, allusion to a suicide attempt, self harm but not, just appears to be, blood, let me know if I missed anything. In all fairness this is a heavy chapter in the beginning. Oh and also, smut 👀

A/N: this took literally forever to write…only because I couldn’t write for like months lmao. But I spent all day basically fleshing most of this all out and there’s a lot of emotion put into it and not too much editing cause I already overthought everything I wrote as I wrote it, dare I say I put my whole fuckin pussy into this chapter. Next chapter will be the final one in the series 😭

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Christmas Eve was supposed to be different this year.  

A senseless daydream.  

It was dad’s last kick to his gut, he knows it.  Eddie finally had a good thing going for him but alas the Munson’s were cursed and he could never escape.  This was some kind of final revenge for not hanging around like a lost puppy though it wasn’t even his choice to leave Hawkins in the first place.  It didn’t matter, life never spared Eddie a precious moment.  

So he sat there, salty tears still somehow leaking out of him despite how tired he was, despite how wrong it felt.  Last week his dad was the most hated man in his life.  And last week he was suddenly dead.  It didn’t make sense, the devastation that consumed Eddie.  All he knew was that sunlight began leaking through the blinds and dotting the floor.  Birds were chirping annoyingly outside and his skin started to feel like cold cuts and despite how uncomfortable it made him, he couldn’t find it in himself to get off his ass and at least put a sweatshirt on.  

He had promised you breakfast, down the road at that little diner called Reggie’s.  Promised to get you the biggest stack of pancakes covered in whipped cream and all kinds of sprinkles along with the best, artery clogging bacon you would ever taste.  Maybe some scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.  

Whatever you wanted. 

He hadn’t seen you in days, not since the recent news broke.  His excuse of harboring the flu was not how he wanted to start daily phone calls with you.  He knew you would then mistake the stuffiness in his voice for phlegm and not his inner sorrows burrowing their way out of him.  He refused your offer to bring him homemade soup and hot tea, rejected the kindness he hadn’t deserved in the first place.  Told you that he just wanted to get healthy quickly and it wouldn’t do either of you any good to both be sick.  He left you in charge of the bar, much to Jett’s disdain, Eddie didn’t need you to confirm that for him he just knew.

Now just standing up seemed impossible.  Shifting his position on the couch to at least relieve the pressure against his tail bone wasn’t plausible.  And for what?  For a man that never gave an inch when Eddie gave him miles upon miles, practically handed over his life on several occasions.  Pathetic, he knew.  But the pain didn’t cease and he couldn’t even find it in himself to turn his head to check the time.

This was it.  

This was how you were going to come face to face with the fact that Eddie was no man.  Not a real one anyway, a facade if anything.  He could just picture it: you would await his knock at the door and it wouldn't come.  A giddy smile would spread across your face as you thought about your plans of going sledding together–he sees it so vividly in his mind.  And then you would be massively disappointed when he couldn’t deliver.  The creases at your eyes when you got overly excited would cease to exist at the mere idea of him.  He had it coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Eddie told you he was feeling better.  It was a lie.  He never had the flu.  He didn’t feel better.  He wanted to die.  And the man responsible for it wouldn’t even give a shit had he still been alive.  Now he was dead and Eddie was the one suffering.

And so his neglected stomach grumbled, his incoming stubble itched though he couldn’t find a fuck to give even in his discomfort, and the whiskey bottle ran dry far too soon.  His brain had been clogged with wishes and what he could’ve done, then declarations of it never being enough, a constant tug-of-war that migraines were made of.

He never stood a chance, his DNA had always been coded like a mutant, at least that’s how it felt deep in his bones.  There was always something off, he never resonated with life in general how everyone else did.  A flaw in the system.  And he built his entire being off of it, afterall he never had any control over the way he was perceived so what option did he have?  

Several.

He thought to himself.  

You could have gone to school, shown up.  

Could have stayed out of detention.

Gotten arrested less.

Not get arrested at all.

Could have said no.  So.  Many.  Times.

In all honesty he wanted to blame his old man but he couldn’t stop taking the hits for him even in death.  He couldn’t stop making excuses.  Any normal person would feel relief but he felt nothing but remorse.  For what, he couldn’t exactly piece it together.  Maybe it was a hidden desire to fix him, a glimmer of hope that he could make him turn his life around like Eddie had.  It would never happen, he was well aware, but a certain childish hope clung onto him, tugging on his sleeve, begging himself for reasons.

Until familiar curls similar to his own and an aura of the gentlest kind clouded his vision.  He could nearly hear her voice, smooth as butter and warm as the summer sun when he was a freckled kid.  Rosy cheeks and beautiful chocolatey brown button eyes to match his.

What’s the matter darlin’?

And he just sobbed.  And remembered.

Morning pancakes and the blues.  Muddy clothes and bubble baths laced with melodies.  Kitchen table haircuts, the softest voice humming in his ears, half inch curls littering the linoleum.  Dancing in the living room.  Refusing to eat his broccoli until she told him they were tiny trees.  Walking hand in hand to the corner store for milk and eggs, the promise of a sucker waiting for him at the cash register widening his innocent grin.  Late night cereal bowls when sleep wasn’t an option and nothing did the trick except some off brand Lucky Charms and tales of dragons and fantasy lands he wished they could run away to.

Then he remembered.

Him.

Stumbling into the kitchen on those nights more often than not, spewing nonsense.  Breaking the refrigerator door as he tripped while seeking another beer.  That door forever being duct taped and never properly fixed as promised.  Mama coaxing dad to bed before she slipped into Eddie’s tiny twin bed for the night, most nights.  Dad waking up just to shut the music off in the morning so he could sleep in.  Disappearing for days.

Mama unexpectedly passing and Eddie being so devastated that he didn’t eat for days and willingly waited at the door every day for pops to get home.  Only he rarely did.  Wayne checking in each and every day only to be on the receiving end of a temper tantrum each time.  Years and years of push back.  A clueless kid defending Indiana’s worst dad in the name of seeking some kind of normalcy.  

“My dad has a ton of jobs.”  He would beam, bright eyes and missing teeth.  

The kids would snicker.  Their mocking smiles would be mistaken for a token of friendliness.  And Eddie would once again be disappointed come the end of the day.  Because he’d realized it wasn’t normal to crawl under fences where dad couldn’t fit, to steal expensive things from “higher class pricks” as dad deemed them.  Take your kid to work day had a very different definition in his book.

So Eddie steered away from telling everyone about his dad’s work antics, opted to tell them about how he got to go to the bar with his old man every Wednesday, thinking he’d surely get praise for being considered so mature.  At least that’s how dad described it.  It wasn’t any better and the reactions were only worse.  They called his dad a drunk.  They weren’t wrong but that didn’t make him feel any less enraged.  “Spawn of Satan”, they called Eddie.  Because in truth that’s what his dad was, he just couldn’t comprehend it at the time.  Then came the christening of his formal title, a word so small but so…derogatory with the way it was spat at him.

Freak.

Spawn of Satan sounded so much worse on paper but Freak made his insides hurt.  And as he recounts the events of his life up until now, he tallies everything up.  Closure in some kind of fucked up way.  Childish thoughts of “he was still my dad” try to take over but are quickly replaced by images of their burning house, the records going up and flames and ash coating everything he had left, everything she had left.

Suddenly there’s broken glass scattered across the floor and warm blood trickling down his arm, not by any fault of his own, just pure rage and unknown strength annihilating the poor glass he attempted to drink water with.  Heartbeat in his ear, he swallows thickly and resumes his position against the kitchen cabinet–they’re going to send me back to the asylum.

All over again, even in the afterlife, dad plays his sick jokes.  Gets Eddie into trouble he never sought out–he was just getting water, it was just water and now he looks like the picture perfect case for mental instability.  No one’s seen him for days and–there’s knocking at the door.  He swears it’s not like last time- it can’t be like last time, he didn’t mean it.  This isn’t like back in Hawkins, when he was healing and the courts were making their decisions.  He thought he was a goner, decided to pull the plug to save everyone the trouble, Wayne was at work, Steve was getting him groceries, everyone else was dealing with the end of the world.  They shouldn’t have to worry about me.  With a bottle of prescribed pills in hand.

The knocking turning urgent, conclusions are drawn up in a scattered, tormented mind–surely they’d rip up his contract, the agreement in which he had been assured a promising life anywhere but Indiana.  A life he’d always longed for anyway.  

Be careful what you wish for.  

That goddamn voice taunts him.

The door shakes, manhandled from the other side and he’s forced to confront the final moments before he’s permanently put away.  “One slip up…”  They had said.  It didn’t matter if he told them it was an accident, nothing mattered if it was anyone else’s word against him.  Literally anyone.  As long as it appeared that he was a danger to himself, he was a danger to society. They were probably waiting for this moment: lock up the problem child and throw away the key.  

Cause he was nothing if not a problem.  First and foremost.

Heart beating out of his chest, breath caught in his throat, he could practically hear the sirens whether they be from an ambulance or police car or both, they were coming–

“Eddie?”

It all stopped.  

“Eddie?!”  

There was no accurate way to describe the sob that clawed its way out of his throat, a tortured cry.  The scene before you had been pulled straight out of a horror movie: your beloved Eddie covered in blood, palms pressed into his eyes, stuttered breathing in between sobs.

Upon approaching him he attempted to scoot himself away, glass shards sinking into his hands, a gasp filling the room and you were certain you needed to find someone else to–

“Please don’t make me go back!”

You couldn’t form words.

“I-it was an accident, I-I promise.”  His eyes brimmed with a fear you never could have imagined coming close to witnessing in this lifetime.  “Just–I just got some water-I didn’t mean to break it, I s-swear.  Please d-don’t let them take me.”

Glass crunched under your boots, a slow approach as you crouch in front of the shattered man with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen.  With a shaky breath and careful movements, a silent request to assess his arm and hands is made.  You’re sure your wide eyes can’t be comforting in the slightest though the shock still pulses through you.  

“I’m sorry.” 

“Shh.”  You soothe. 

Forehead pressed to his in a moment of solace, you offer a nudge, nose to nose.  A wordless commitment.  Softness he didn’t know he needed, tender touches of your fingertips to his wet cheek as if to promise a remedy for his aching heart, that you weren’t planning on going anywhere.  You weren’t leaving him like he convinced himself you would or god forbid turn him over to the authorities like he feared.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

–

Glass has been carefully swept three times over, though you were considering a fourth for good measure.  Shards had been plucked from Eddie’s poor hands, your tweezers doing the job just fine after being doused in some cheap vodka he had.  Gauze from a first aid kit you thankfully had in the car had been wrapped around the largest gash in his forearm, not large enough for stitches but large enough to wince at.  He sat there the whole time, staring at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but your face.  

The silence was heavy, a dense fog that hung low throughout his house.  Someone had to break it but both parties were finding difficulties in voicing the reality of what just occurred.  If either spoke it would make it real.  Right now it was hazy, a question of “are we dreaming or did I just walk in on a suicide attempt?” hung in the air.

He said it was an accident, and you believed him.  There was just so much unanswered and it’s the only thing that came to mind.  Anxious fingers tapped against his own thigh, occasionally twisting his rings round and round while gnawing on his lower lip.  It then dawned on you that he was the most human out of anyone you’d ever met.  

He felt on a deeper level than most.

At the touch of your gentle hand against his, his surprised eyes, parted lips, and hesitance to reciprocate hint that he hadn’t anticipated you sticking around this long after you’d found him.  In the standard of fight or flight, he froze.  Realistically he may have been sitting on his tattered couch while you tended to his wounds, both physical and emotional whether he cares to admit or not, but mentally he checked out the second he found himself surrounded by glass and tears.

“Bambi–”

“You don’t need to say anything.”

You were trying to keep it together.  His croaking voice made that hard.  But in all seriousness it wasn’t fair to throw yourself a pity party in light of Eddie’s current stability.  And you’d reject the idea of throwing him a pity party, wouldn’t even touch the idea, but you would offer him all the empathy your soul had collected in a lifetime.  Even not knowing the culprit of his now dried up tears and stinging hands, you’d go to war for him.  Maybe that was dare you even think it, love.  But that’s a crisis for another time.

“Dad died.”

Somehow the silence became even greater, a gigantic void of confusing thoughts and complicated quick conclusions.  Conclusions you backtracked on immediately.  It wasn’t your decision to declare how he should feel about a man who in your eyes and through his words put him through hell no matter how strong your sense of justice grew.      

“Oh, Eddie, I’m so–”  A soft beginning to a sympathetic apology short lived.

“It’s fucked.”  His voice cracked, stoic face crumbling no matter how hard he tried to rebuild the tough exterior.  “I shouldn’t–”  There’s a pause, an intake of shaky breath.  “I shouldn’t feel bad.”

“You’re allowed to.”

“No, no he ruined fucking–everything.”

“And you’re still allowed to mourn.  Even for as shitty of a person as he was, you were still his son and that meant something to you.”

You wished you could erase the flash of pain that glazed over his eyes; something that tells you he knew every word you spoke to be true but couldn’t quite bring himself to be at peace with it yet.  Dust collected on the coffee table in his eternity of reflection, a melancholy aura blanketing the dark cabin as wind whistled through the chimney like spirits demanding attention.  

“How’d you know?”  He finally asked, timid.

“Hm?”

“I left everyone hanging, they all think I’m out with the flu, how did you pick the exact moment I…”

“Needed someone?”

Eddie nodded, hesitantly, like those weren’t the exact words he would pick himself but they seemed to convey what was necessary.  

“Wayne called me.”  You sigh.  “Said he got my number from Steve.  Everyone wanted to jump on the first plane over y’know?”  At this a trace of a fraction of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but he did his best to contain it.  “But it’s Christmas, flights are booked, and even then there’s a storm coming in.  Wayne said he couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“So you knew?”

“No.”  You assure, taking care to relax your features.  “Just sounded really worried, didn’t want to air everything out.  He wanted me to check in.  I guess he has some kind of godly intuition.”  You chuckle.

Eddie retracts his hand, and you know you’ve lost him to his inner battle again.  You can only imagine the bloodshed happening within, after all, you were no stranger to deconstructing your own self worth brick by brick.  The traumas he had been faced with were not anything therapy could simply remove like a tumor.  There were no treatments afterward to ensure everything would get better.  You knew this first hand, that you could try and try to get to the root but there was never any way to truly remove it to keep it from ever festering again.  It would appear, it would be when you least expected, at your worst, and it would look you in the eye and test you.

“I’ll be fine.”

Famous last words.  When the host convinces themselves but could never actually believe it to be true in their lifetime.

“But right now you’re not.”

Sabotage.  In his eyes.

“But I will be.  Don’t let me ruin your holiday just because–”

Excuses.  Deterring from the targeted enemy: grief, in the name of saving others the trouble.  A tactic you’d perfected in your years of people pleasing and feeding your tendencies to deflect your sorrows with the intent to appear invisible and self destruct.

“Stop it.”  You demand.

“No, Bambi.  Go to Donnie’s, I’m sure they’ll understand you coming early–”

“Stop.”

Rational thoughts were shoved into a neat little box somewhere else in his mind and you only hoped you could aid in retrieving it before he threw away the key.  Before he decided not even he was worthy of hearing them from himself.  And as he crossed his arms, a stubborn gesture, you braced for impact against his defenses.  His cruel inner monologue and haunted house of a brain.

Big eyes adorned with every brown hue under the sun dissipated into pure darkness.  Cold and black, lacking any of the warmth you’d previously basked in.  He was lost in an underworld he’d been promised to since birth.

“Would you listen to me?!”  Eddie’s jaw clenched in utter frustration and you swear a bead of sweat trickles into his eyebrow.  “I’m not–I don’t wanna be the guy to drag you down.  I’m not gonna be that guy, I won’t do it.  My shit is my shit.”

You weren’t going to become complicit in the reality he’d settled for, the reality in which he felt he deserved scraps and just enough attention to deter himself from going insane.

“And I’m not gonna be the one to leave you while you’re hurting.”  Finally catching his avoidant eye contact, you offer his forearm a squeeze.  A plea.  “Throw me out in the snow, I don’t care but I’m still gonna sit on your porch until you let me in.  I don’t care what holiday it is.”

“Go.”

You try not to take it personal.  It’s not personal.

“Fine.”

The last thing he hears is a slam of the door, refusing to even glance at where you previously sat adjacent to him.  The room turned colder, more vacant.  Even your energy had left with you, none spared for him of course, because why would he be spared anything from your healthy heart?  His was black and blue, barely pumping, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you perform CPR on what he considered an already lost cause.

Do not resuscitate.

As quickly as he’d accepted the death of a budding relationship, the door swung open with aggression to interrupt his mourning, smacking the wall and no doubt breaking through some drywall.  The least of his problems as he watched your determination in setting some stacked boxes on his kitchen counter before exiting again, this time leaving the door wide open.  

It was eerie, the way your second exit was so open ended.  Snow flurries entered and gusts of wind toyed with his curls, his cheeks already hurting a tad with the coldness.  Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it, you’d dropped off a box of what appeared to be Christmas decorations and what?  Stormed off?  Somehow that hurt even more than the first time, though he’d anticipated the day you would figure out how fucked up he was and retreat.  He could prepare all he wanted but nothing stung more than the actual—

In you came, a box of ornaments under one arm and a small Christmas tree under the other.  And you got to work, setting up the three foot tree right on his coffee table, plugging it in to the nearest outlet and initiating a soft glow of white lights, instantly engulfing the room in a newfound safeness.  The tree needed fluffed and appeared to have bed head, though it still served its cheerful purpose regardless.

Eddie sat with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, on the edge of the couch, eyes shut.  An uphill battle.

“Bambi, what did I tell you–”

“You told me to go.”  You nod confidently, a frown betraying you, pulling at the corners of your mouth.   “And I did.  You didn’t say how long or—or where to go.  But I gave you time to cool off and now you’re gonna either sit and pretend Christmas isn’t a thing or you’re gonna watch the stupid little clay people on TV while I cook dinner and bake.  Either one is good with me but I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not and—“

Before you can look up amidst your rambling, a ringed finger hooks itself in one of your belt loops, tugging you into a warm chest.  

There he is.

Warmth restored in his irises and a semblance of a smirk threatened his lips.  Pale skin rosy in all the right places and endearing eyelashes framing his shy gaze down at you.  Your boy.  

Lips grazed lips, noses nudged into each other, and it all just…made sense.  Bambi and Eddie.  There is not one without the other, not anymore.  Not since you sauntered into his life, demanded a job, puked on him, made him go absolutely insane—

“I love you.”  

It just fell from his tongue.  A promise.

“I-are—are you s—“

“Am I serious?  Is that what you’re gonna ask?”  He nearly mocks your mouthful of syllables.

You nod, gulping.  Not because you’re afraid, no, never.  You’d just never seen such assurance in a single man.

“Bambi…” He tuts.  “You don’t see how bad I’ve got it for you?”

All you can manage is to dumbly bat your eyelashes up at him, mouth hung open like a fish and fists clutching the front of his shirt unknowingly, though he doesn’t mind in the slightest if you stretch out his collar.  

“Bad.”  He reiterates.  “So bad, that even if you don’t feel the same, even if you only like me out of pity—“

“I don’t—“

“I’m not finished.”  Your attempted interruption has him thumbing at your bottom lip.  “Even if you only like me out of pity, I’ll take it.  And I’ll run with it.  Far.  Because I’m pathetic—“

“You are not.” 

“I’m a pathetic man.  Who is deeply in love with you, Bambi.”  

“Stop saying you’re pathetic.”  You challenge quietly, a delicate hand tracing the stubble of his jaw.

“Oh, but I am.”  He breathes, leaving no room for argument when he presses his lips against yours as if it were his last chance.  

Did he believe it was his last chance?

And without thinking, tongues collided, teeth clashed, he had backed you into the wall and there was no telling how you found yourself palming him over rough denim, a whine escaping his throat before you’d barely touched him.

A pathetic whine dare you say.

“Sorry, sorry.”  You gasp, string of saliva connecting you like the invisible string you believed tied you to him all along.

“Don’t—ow!  Jesus fuck.”  Eddie winced, shaking his hand in the air after attempting to cup your blushing cheek.  “Forgot I had fucking…glass in my hand earlier.”

You giggle, a saccharine sound, a melody in his ears that he yearned to make more of.  Embarrassment traces your features, brows pulled into a worrisome look while you hold your hands close against your chest, afraid of further touch much to his dismay.  

“Can you…can you do that again?”  He whispers.  Terrified of the consequences but brave enough to face the rejection.

Nodding, your slow hand reaches for his cheek, thumb grazing over it before trailing down his neck.  His breath hitches, your hand traveling lower and lower, over his chest and down his stomach, exploring all that you’ve so desired only in your wildest  wet dreams.  

Lifting the hem of his shirt ever so slightly, just enough to let your fingers graze his soft skin, your main goal is to tug at that delicious happy trail.  And when you do, he can’t admit to you that he nearly cums in his jeans but you’re certain you’re on the same page when you see his eyes roll back into his skull.

 He can’t control himself when he ruts into you the second your palm meets him once again, beautiful, breathy sighs escaping his pouty, plump lips.  

“Like that, baby?”  You ask, trailing hot kisses down his throat.

“Please.”  A whisper that tells you everything.  “I-I never—no one’s ever—“  He tries to warn you.

“What?”  You encourage, tongue tracing his earlobe.  “No one’s ever taken care of you, huh?”  

“Just my hand.”  Eddie jokes, voice strained.

Guiding him to sit back on the couch, it protests beneath the weight of you both as you crawl into his lap.  Careful fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, patient lips hovering over his.  Doe eyes look up at you, half in admiration, half in hesitation.  

“We can stop.”  You assure him, sweet kisses pressed to each corner of his lips.

“No, no.”  His voice shakes, chest heaving.  “I just—I don’t know exactly…what I’m doing.”  

There’s an undertone of humiliation, the opposite effect you wanted to have on him.  But you were confident that you could make him feel comfortable.  Feel sexy and wanted.

“Let me do the work.”  You whisper against his lips, slowly rolling your hips into him.  “Let me take care of you.”  

He nods, frantically moving to undo his zipper, only to be met with your delicate hands wrapping around his knuckles.  You’re so patient with him, so gentle, so unlike what he’s ever been faced with.

“I said, let me take care of you.”

Feather light kisses pressed to his knuckles, you continue rotating your hips against his, feeling his bulge in between your legs, the friction tightening the knot within you.  His eyebrows knit together, head falling back against the couch’s when you graze your fingertips just below his shirt again.  

Nails gently drag down his torso, eliciting the loudest moan you’ve pulled from him so far.  His injured hands only allow him to take their place in your belt loops again, assisting in setting the pace as you grind against him.

“Eddie.”  You whimper.

“M’ gonna cum.”  He halts your movements, only letting you hover above what was about to be sweet euphoria.  “Wanna be inside of you.”

You can only gaze at him with the utmost love, entranced by his flushed appearance and his damp curls framing his face.  

“Please, baby.  Please, I’ve got condoms—“

You have to stop his babbling by shoving your tongue in his mouth, nodding against him with a grin.  

“You bought condoms?  Boy, are you prepared—“

A playful pillow is tossed into your face, a deep groan coming from your boy.  

“Yes, I’m cautious, baby, please if you don’t sit on my dick right now, if I have to go one more minute not knowing what it’s like…”

“Shhh, okay, okay!!”  You squeal when he attempts to get up only to fail with you pushing back.  You knew damn well he was strong enough to fling you off of his lap should he choose, which only made your underwear more of a mess.

“You wanna go to the bedroom?”  You tease, nuzzling into his cheek.  

Without a second of hesitation, he launches you both off of the couch, palms against your ass only making you wonder how much his hands must hurt and how much adrenaline he must have not to care.  Playfully, Eddie tosses you onto his bed, a pile of unkempt sheets that only seemed that much more comfortable than your own bed.  You could die happily in the smell that engulfed you.  Purely Eddie.  Woodsy and minty.  A tad smoky.  And some hints of apple.

Just when you think he’s about to jump your bones, in every literal sense, you open your eyes to find him carefully adjusting the needle of his record player in the corner of the room.  And then it plays.  A rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love.  A folkier version, a woman singing with a twang to her voice.  

“Well alright, cowboy.”  You joke, an over seductive brow raising at him.  

“Shut up.”  He grins, crossing his arms to take his shirt off and toss it behind him.  

“C’mere.”  You reach over, tugging at his belt until he hovers over you.  “Wanna see you.” 

“You are seeing me, been here the whole time.”

Quickly, he gathers what you mean as you reverse positions, pushing him back on the bed to trail your lips along his stomach.  Perfectly pretty lips follow along the scars he’d been left with years ago.  The rough texture doesn’t deter you, doesn’t scare you off like he imagined.  While your lips explore his scarred side, your hand delicately traces the dragon tattooed along his ribs on the opposite side.  Inked skin that arose with goosebumps after each touch.

As if he hadn’t already died and gone to heaven, you stop your torment on his body to discard your own shirt, leaving you in only your bra before him.  Careful to grab his hand, you drag his fingers down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, down, down, down until you let him dip into your pants.  Beneath your damp panties, collecting slick before he catches on your clit, a moan falling so desperately from your lips.  

“F-feel what you do to me?”

It aches.

His finger sits pressed against your throbbing clit, teasing in a way he has no idea about yet.  But he will and you’re not quite ready to relinquish that power to him…yet.  

You can’t handle the confines of clothing any longer, releasing your breasts as you unhook your bra and toss it to the side.  His eyes grow, lips parted in awe.  And when you go to shimmy your jeans off, the friction against his hand pulls a mewl from you, something so pretty and real.  

You’re completely bare, prey for him to claim although he doesn’t, he lets you have control.  And then you remove his hand, only to drag yourself over his denim covered thigh, slick coating the material without much effort.  

Catching his eyes, you watch as he brings his finger up to his lips, tongue wrapping around the digit with a moan of approval.  That’s when you decided you couldn’t drag it on any longer.

His belt buckle clinked against itself as you worked to yank his jeans down, practically drooling for his cock, drunk on the mere idea of even seeing it.  Plaid boxers ignored, you pay attention to the way it slaps against his stomach, already leaking and red.  Painfully aroused.

He barely survives when you decide to lower yourself and lick a long stripe up the underside, twitching against your tongue.

“B-baby, please.”  While grinding into nothing, poor boy.  “Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad.”

He’s been taunted enough, breaking a sweat as he lays there, fisting the sheets in his hands.  You’ve nearly brought him to tears and you’ve barely touched him.

Leaving open mouthed kisses along his reddening chest, you finally offer some relief, ripping open a condom he’d somehow grasped in his hand the entire time, rolling it onto him, and sinking down, swallowing him into your warmth.  Eddie makes the prettiest sounds, small almost hiccups and gasps.  Slowly, you work your hips against him, clit rolling just right against his pubic hair. 

He’s big, stretches you out and hits just the right spot.  Hips stuttering, he places his hands on your waist, cut hands be damned.  Eddie’s close, has been this entire time, but he can’t contain himself the second you lick up a bead of sweat from his chest to his collarbone.  The site is simply too pornoraphic for his inexperienced dick, hot cum filling the condom.  The moan he lets out as he finishes only encourages you, gets you going faster in the limited time you now have before he softens.  

Automatically you reach down to play with your clit, knowing it’ll push you over the edge though he realizes and beats you to it, a rough finger circling you in a pleasant rhythm.  Overstimulated whines fall from him but he doesn’t quit giving you what you need, what you so desperately desire.  

Then all at once, pleasure crashes down around you, pulsing around him, leaving you twitching and panting.  The record stopped playing however long ago, the silence pulling you back into the realm of Eddie’s bedroom.

 Nothing needs to be said, words aren’t on your minds.  Excuses for what just occurred are nonexistent because if you’re being honest, it was sewn into the timeline no matter what.  Forever embedded into the universe in every lifetime.  Heavy breaths carried a symphony during the cool down, sweaty chests pressed together, sticky and salty.

Absentmindedly your foot grazed against his hairy shin, fingers dancing along his chest and arm.  His bicep was toned, something you were never able to appreciate up close before but would now take all the time you wanted.  You wanted to memorize every detail of his body, every freckle, hair, and birthmark.  All of him.

His lazy hand let his fingers trail up and down your spine, writing letters unknown to you but etched into his brain for as long as he knew you.  He held a new appreciation for intimacy, something he sourly wrote off early on but now would cherish deeply.  

Girls never liked him but if he could go back in time and show younger Eddie the one girl who would ever matter to him, well he imagines younger Eddie would still be a naive dipshit about it but he could try nonetheless.  Supposes he would hit him with a “it gets better, kid” and all that sappy shit.  Something like “you’re gonna marry this girl”.  That would be okay to jump the gun on, right?

–

Cinnamon and chocolatey aromas couldn’t completely wash away the somber haze although it was fairly close.  Post sex air somewhat helped as well, though you weren’t banking on it, it wasn’t a solution, more like a deterrent that hadn’t been planned on either part.  

The little plastic tree on the coffee table decorated with years old ornaments wasn’t going to heal the bruising on an ever healing heart.  Christmas classics played on the TV but you knew Rudolph wasn’t going to erase a lifetime's worth of childhood trauma.  

It could help though.  And that’s all that mattered.  If watching Christmas classics only aided in healing a millionth of the wounds, then it was worth doing.  If decorating his once dark and depressing house with twinkling lights and garland only brought out a smidge of the inner child that needed help healing, then it was worth it.  

While Eddie slept in, you played Santa even if just with one gift, leaving it next to the coffee table, too large to fit under the small tree.  Though it didn’t start out perfect, Christmas was starting to look very familiar.  Baked goods sat out on top of the stove, cinnamon rolls, croissants, the works.  Eddie’s shitty little kitchen radio played Christmas tunes which you found yourself humming along to.  

You’d thrown together some maple bacon, drizzling actual maple syrup on the strips in hopes that they’d candy in the oven, which they did.  Hash browns sat in the skillet, slightly burned but at least there was ketchup in the fridge to cover up the burnt taste.  Snow blanketed the streets outside, snowing you in although you didn’t mind one bit.  

You’d called Donnie, heard the commotion over the line at her house, family members causing a ruckus in the background as she made pancakes.  While you were supposed to be with everyone this morning, she assured you all was well and you could hear the smirk in her voice.

Emerging from his room, Eddie’s bed head is the first thing you greet.  Curls sticking out every which way, bangs defying gravity.  Lines ran down his face, imprints from the sheets and his boxers hung low on his hips.  A dream.

“Merry Christmas to you too.”  You giggle at the way he squints in the early morning sunlight peeking through the window.  

Stretching his arms over his head, you’re forced to witness the way every muscle flexes, drool nearly falling from the corner of your mouth.  It doesn’t go unnoticed but he decides it can be addressed later.  

“Merry Christmas, did you get me some fucking curtains so I can actually see?”  He laughs, voice husky with sleep.  

“No but I can do you one better—“

“I was joking Bambi, I wasn’t actually expecting any—“

“Next to the table.”  

Your grin makes him want to run directly to you and spin you around, kiss you a few dozen times, and never leave this bubble you two have created.  Instead he hesitantly steps toward the previously mentioned gift, a large gift at that, wrapped thoughtfully in reindeer paper and complete with a large red bow.  He felt like an asshole.

“I—no I can’t—“

“Open it.”  

Eddie just stared. 

“Eddie, it’s Christmas, first thing you do is open gifts!”  You smile, approaching behind him.

Then he disappeared back into his room, the sound of him rummaging the only thing letting you know he hasn’t retreated just to hide from you.  When he walks back out, he’s hiding something behind his back, a nervous smile tugging at his face.  

“I swear—I was going to wrap it, I just—I don’t have an excuse.  I just didn’t.  I’m sorry.”  His large brown eyes plead with you, begging for forgiveness that he didn’t need to beg for in the first place.

As if defeated, he hands you a stack of records, several that probably cost a good paycheck.  And you can tell he feels it’s not even enough with the way he avoids your gaze.

“Um, it’s probably stupid, it’s just, they’re records that made me think of you.  I dunno, it’s dumb, music is just—“

“I love you.”  You interrupt.

Without another word you grab the records from him to momentarily set them on the table.  Before he knows it you're smashing your lips against his, passion being poured into every breath he takes against you.  Your hands cup his cheeks, still slightly stubbly but cute.  He wraps his large hands around your wrists, hissing at the slight sting but continuing. 

“You’re not just saying that—“

“I.  Love.  You.”  You enunciate each word with a peck.  “Point blank.  No exceptions.  You’re stuck with me old man.”

“Old man?  We’re like the same age—“

You’ll never forget the amusement on his face but what attracts your attention next are the records.  A huge stack of them.  All genres.  Some Elvis, ones that hadn’t made it in your collection yet, a few that seemed more his taste, metal.  It was a universal language and it was his preferred way of feeling.  That much you could gather.

“Um, yeah, if you don’t like them I can just…”

“Don’t like them?”  You scoff.  “I love them.”

You hold them close to your chest, as if they were books and you were in high school.  You suppose you could be what with the way butterflies erupted in your stomach.  He made you feel like you were in high school, gave you a sense of youth that had been skipped over previously.  

And he was blushing. 

“Well, uh, I just thought you know…music does a lot for me.  I picked some out that I knew you’d like.  Also put some that I like in there, I dunno why, you don’t have to listen to them.”

“Oh, we are listening to them.  Right after you open your gift.”

More blushing.

Eddie takes a few glances at the gift, as if it were there to test him.  Like Pandora’s box or something.  Then he crouches down beside it, hesitantly reaching out to peel back the paper.  A giddy grin rests on your face, records still clutched in your hold.  His face says it all once he’s torn through enough paper.  It’s a guitar case, that much he can tell, eyes nearly popping out of his head.  Then he opens the case, revealing a cherry red electric something that you couldn’t memorize the name of but all you knew was that he had his eyes on it for months before you even entered the picture.  At least that’s what the guy at the thrift shop said. 

“No fucking way.”  He smiles, half laughs.  Then repeats himself.  Over and over.

“Do you like it?”

Instead of receiving verbal confirmation, you’re nearly tackled, strong arms wrapping around you and swinging you around.  Laughter erupts from deep within you, Eddie setting you down just to kiss you deeply and with so much care you figure you’ll faint.  

“I love it, I love you.”

Later that morning, frosting coats his lips then transfers to yours in a quick kiss across his tiny dining table.  The bacon is devoured, mostly on his account, and those claymation Christmas classics elicit laughter like no other.  Deep belly laughs from the man whose legs you sit in between.  His shirt rests comfortably on your torso.

He calls Wayne, puts it on speaker, and effortless banter occurs between you three.  Wayne tells his boy to behave, wishes him a Merry Christmas, apologizes that times have been so shitty and that his flight had been canceled.  Thanks you for being there to ground his boy, tells you how much Eddie’s friends have gone on and on about you two, that he can’t wait to meet you.

Then you call up your family back home, more than likely all crammed in the same house, doing puzzles, arguing over stupid things, throwing wrapping paper everywhere.  You miss it.  But you wouldn’t trade your place right now for anything.  Eddie timidly and adorably chimes in, says hi.  Makes small talk with mom and grandma.  Grandma begs him to take a look at her station wagon when he makes his way over with you for a visit some day.  No question about it, he’s going and that’s final, according to her.  He doesn’t seem to mind though, a shy smile pulling at his lips.

Lastly you call up the gang.  Nancy answers, says everyone’s at their house as usual.  Shouting between Dustin, Steve, and Mike is heard in the background.  Something about a broken sled.  Robin takes the call hostage, telling you both about the juicy gossip amongst the group.

“And then Max—you haven’t met Max yet, Bambi, but Max left Lucas a—shit you haven’t met Lucas yet either.  This would all make so much more sense then.”

There’s talk of a summer trip, something fun everyone can join in on.  Kind of like summer camp except Nancy would of course be the ring leader by default.  She would more than likely assign the adults as camp counselors unofficially.  Eddie’s face lights up, tells her about the perfect campsite not far from his house.  Beautiful in the summertime.  Then looks at you, shares a dimpled grin and runs his thumb over your knee.

Loved ones called and bellies full, Eddie plays around with his new guitar, and softly in the background, Muddy Waters plays.  One of the records he’d gifted you.

~end~

Masterlist

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16

[thesupernaturalhouse]

Damn yall are liking this Hazbins Fallen au- I'm glad!! Honestly I was hoping people would like it but like, still a shock you know-

Anywaysss, I am busy but figured I'd post some fact/headcanons of the au, aoke plot points, mostly surrounding Emily because she's the main change of the au

Emily has a pretty big sweet tooth, and when she does get sweets she always gets extra for Razzle and Dazzle

Again, I will say this, Vaggie, Charlie and Emily are wrangle and dazzles moms. Keekee is not counting as a child cause the seems more like. A ept while Razzle and Dazzle seem mroe sentient, at least to me

Charlie and Seviathans relationship, post break up ofc, is like Ron Swanson and Tammy 2s, no the uh- getting back together part but the '....she's here-' part, Charlie absolutely hates his guts and whenever he's near her more demon features come out as she looks around trying to spot him

Emily barely holds herself back from killing slaviathen, you'd think it'd be Vaggie, but no, it's Emily

Emily design resembles a succubus, it was by complete accident, she lieks the color of horns and didn't realize what it could resemble-

Emily absolutely hates Al but hides it ebhidn a cheerful smile, silent anger so to speak(she does end up snapping at Al and I am so excited to write that scene)

Husk is Emily's father figure I already have a whole chaoter planned surrounding how they bon, Emily calls him dad from that chaoter onwards

Angle constantly makes 'I fucked you dad' jokes, even if they aren't true, at Em cause he knows it pushes her buttons....she retaliated by buying water balloons and throwing them at him one day when he makes the same joke again

Husk just watches.

In the pilot, vaggie holds up her spear and Emily pushes it down like "...no, no..." the Katy says soemthing homophobic and she immediately moves her hand away and says "nevermind. Do what you want."

Emily hates waking up early, she's done it for YEARS in heaven she'll eb damned if she does it for more in hell (plus there's nobody on her about being on time to places)

You knwo that scene where Husk is calling everyone out? Well, he looks at Emily and goes "and SHES....well....I've got nothing on her, she's perfect" you can tell who his favorite is

Remember when angle brings them ti a bdsm club? Yeah, I've- I've got a FUN scene idea for that-

Screw shoes let charlie show her hooves- especially since I 70% sure that hoped animals have to walk on their hooves or else they risk a lot of different things so- yeah, I'm throwing away her shoes.

Also have her show sone more demon features, I love making designs so much- and of course their gonna be more animalistic, cause I love expanding on animal nosies and behaviors and stuff, it was always planned tho I didn't have a specfici bird in mind for vaggie until the hawk feather exorcists au, she also makes moth noises

I am going to have so much fun making their designs-

Also, Emily and Peter are best friends in this au, mlm and wlw solidarity when they go back up to heaven while Sera is tlaking Peter is jsut staring at her

'I know' she knows he knows....she silently promises to catch him up before the trial and he finally looks away satisfied

I feel liek while Emily would be very quick to accept husk is her father figure I think Husk would be a bit hesitant to accept that HE is a father figure

You know victor from lackadaisy? I dont knwo why but I kinda like to imagine husk as him- like I'm debating if I should make husk have had a daughter when he was alive who he didn't get to see cause of the divorce and turned to alcoholism slowly. And Em reminds him if her and that makes him SCARED

Fun little idea I had that I may or may not include, depends how I'm feeling honestly, I do wanna ta leats keep some things liek how 'gruff' he is and apply it to husk, idm I feel like their personalities are every similar, thoguh that might jsut be me-

Husk would teach Emily how to play Chess

Charlie knows Vaggie and Emily are angles and all that stuff, as I've said before. So I'm debating wether or not to keep Al's deal in, I think I will but tweak it a bit

I love Al, but he is an above avrage overlord at best, the only reason he was able to fight agaisnthe exrocists and Adam was due to them not being used to people attacking BACK and seeing it more as entertainment then actual hunting.

Anyways Em may or may not call him out casually on multiple occasions- 'he does realize if he fights Adam he'll die- oh, and there he goes called it!' She doesn't like him

Em was very much called 'lucifers replacement' by many angles, not Sera but even Sera soemtimes accidentally said lucis name instead of Ems at Keats a few times. Anyways she hates lucifer despite never meeting him and for soem reaosn never realized he was Charlie's father-

Al and Rosie are Charlie's uncle and aunt, foudn family my beloved

The reveal that Emily is Emily the seraphim....well, lets hsut say when revealing vaggie to be an exrocist doesn't work. lute notices how fimiliar Em looks..... it's gonna be a very interesting chaote rthats for certain

Speaking of the episode list- probably gonna alter them cut ep6 into 2 parts to, I'll make a diffeent post about it-

[izunias-meme-hole]

Top 15 Final Fantasy Villains

(In My Opinion)

Number 1. Sephiroth (Final Fantasy VII) - Sephiroth is one of the hardest bosses in gaming and a genuine horror villain. He is a tragic monster born from science, and a loyal “son” fo his alien mother, Jenova, but he’s still scary as hell thanks to his god complex, unlimited strength, ethereal vibes, years of experience, his ability to live off of pure spite just so he can make the lives of his enemies (and Cloud) complete hell. His appearance in of itself is creepy due to how beautiful, yet unsettling it is, thanks to his silver hair, green snake-like eyes, and perfect physique which is complimented by a black coat. However the most dangerous things about him are that he’s completely delusional, his strength is unmatched, and just how far he’s willing to go to distort other peoples sense reality, specifically Cloud’s sense of reality. Sephiroth a tragic character and a phenomenal villain.

Number 2. Kefka (Final Fantasy VI) - Were it not for Sephiroth’s existence, and the fact that this clown’s debut game being at the end of an era, Kefka would definitely be number 1 on here, and get more respect. Aside from that, Kefka is basically what Majora is to the Zelda series. A completely insane, and legitimately funny villain with a desire to destroy everything, however the difference is that Kefka is a mere jester with magic powers that became god! Plus he actually did send the world into ruin, but because of a little group of heros with hope, he was utterly defeated. So while Sephiroth is indeed ethereal, delusional as hell, and a horrifying nemesis, Kefka is the better manifestation of the pure unadulterated evil a person can bring, with the right tools.

Number 3. Ardyn (Final Fantasy XV) - Ardyn Lucis “Izunia” Caelum is the near perfect mixture between Sephiroth and Kefka in a way. He’s got the same “funny man wants to watch the world burn” vibes like Kefka, but he’s also a creepy, vengeful, tragic, and very personal villain, much like Sephiroth. Ardyn was once a messiah, a healer who was going to become a king, before he was betrayed by his brother, Somnus, and the gods, and cursed to be made immortal via daemons. So after centuries of imprisonment, he decides to take revenge upon his own kin, AND the gods. A simple motive, but in all honesty the amount of trolling he does in order to achieve  it, is truly gut wrenching sometimes, and it gives you the motivation to plunge your blade into his chest, but at the same time… you kinda feel slightly bad while doing it too for some reason. He's a villain that you love, hate, and pity in the end.

Number 4. Kuja (Final Fantasy IX) - Kuja is one of the more unique Final Fantasy villains because of his personality. He’s a narcissist that wants to destory, which isn’t new for most JRPG villains, but he’s also flamboyant as hell, and talks as if he’s in some kind of play where the world is his stage. He isn’t funny like Kefka, nor is he as intimidating as Sephiroth, but you can feel that wasn’t the route the writers were taking with his character. If anything he’s a pitiable, destructive, and flamboyant narcissist, but the Dissida series expands upon his character a lot in a way that kinda gets you hooked. So yeah, Kuja is unique alright.

Number 5. Ultimecia (Final Fantasy VIII) - This time manipulating witch is all style over substance, but god damn her style is really terrifying. She also has quite the presence, much like Sephiroth before her, so its not like she's sitting on her ass all day.

Number 6. Professor Hojo (Final Fantasy VII) - Wow, another FFVII villain, and it's Sephiroth's piece of shit mad scientist dad, Professor Hojo. This walking mass of complexes is a perfect example of the "Greater-Scope Villain." Never taking away from the Big Bad's spotlight, yet is responsible for almost half of the shit in the narrative. Though responsible for many things, his most noticeable crimes against nature were his experiments with Jenova, and the creation of Sephiroth, whom he also experimented on throughout his whole life. Pretty easy to see why Sephiroth was doomed from the start.

Number 7. Vayne Solidor (Final Fantasy XII) - A politician who wants to give the freedom of choice back to man, and preserve his family’s status and power. Those were Vayne’s end goals, and his personality is that of the ideal of a politician. He’s charismatic, ruthless, and levelheaded, so he’s surprisingly one of the more sane Final Fantasy villains too, but that doesn’t mean he’s the least evil.

Number 8. Garland/Chaos (Final Fantasy) - The first man to go by the title of Chaos. Jack Garland was seemingly a generic princess kidnapping video game villain, and he was the first boss in the first game. Granted he did have a small bit of backstory that explains that he was a former knight of Corneria who went mad, and wanted world dominations, but it wasn't enough at the moment. A couple of hours of gameplay later, along with some buildup of the entity known as "Chaos," we find out that Garland IS Chaos, and has practically made himself immortal thanks to a time loop he created with the Four Fiends, whom he sent into the future. Granted he's still a very simple antagonist if we're talking about goals, but in terms of how he went about it, he set up a standard for other villains in the series to surpass.

Number 9. Exdeath (Final Fantasy V) - Raw menace, ham and cheese, presence, permanently killing one of the main characters, and THE VOID. Exdeath was just a delightfully evil bastard, and it's all explained by him literally just being all of the evil in the universe that was sealed inside of a tree of all things. Bro really was "born evil."

Number 10. Rufus Shinra (Final Fantasy VII) - This man is the literal definition of a "Magnificent Bastard." Calm in almost every given situation, legitimately intelligent and level headed, smug as shit, and has the occasional "pet the dog" moments. Rufus Shinra pretty much has it all.

Number 11. Emet-Selch (Final Fantasy XIV) - He has gone by several names, led two empires, and lived thousands of lives, one of the most prominent antagonists in the entire game, but this man will forever be known as Emet-Selch, a.k.a Hades and Solus Soz Galvus. While he never appeared onscreen at first, we did know him as the founder of the Garlean Empire, and the emperor in the first 2 parts of the game, until we saw him in the flesh in Stormblood and Shadowbringers, and good lord he's surprisingly good. He does share some of Ardyn’s vibes, but compared to that glorious troll, Emet acts like a worn out and bitter old man, which is very fitting when you remember that he constantly reflects upon his great his old life was, and lived in a replica of his former home with the souls of his fallen comrades. Jesus Christ, no wonder his real name is Hades, the man is constantly surrounded by the dead in both a literal and metaphorical sense. Compared to the top picks he isn’t that great, but considering how well done he actually is, in-spite of how much people kinda oversell him, this is a decent placement.

Number 12. Sin (Final Fantasy X) - Ever wanted to see Jaws in a Final Fantasy game? Well that's what Sin was. Granted, it’s goddamn terrifying, unforgettable, and moves the plot, but it doesn’t really have much to it outside of being this eldirch whale monster that was created to destroy. Still it makes the goddamn most out of what it is.

Number 13. Ultima (Final Fantasy XVI) - Oh god where do I begin? There's a great amount of stuff that the writers of this great game got right when deciding to make their main villain a literal eldritch god, and he's honestly fascinating in some areas. His buildup is similar to Sephiroth's, his terror level is 100% its own thing that's worthy of him, and good god the way he operates is honestly something to behold. Yet he falls off the mark in a lot of ways. He isn't a bad villain, and honestly is overhated sometimes, but good god a fair amount of potential was missed.

Number 14. Golbez (Final Fantasy IV) - The first Darth Vader expy of the series, and goddamn he’s surprisingly good. Keyword good, not great.

Number 15. Caius Ballad (Final Fantasy XIII-2) - Another tragic immortal, however this one is a former time traveling protector. My thoughts on this guy are mixed. On one hand, as the main antagonist of FF XIII-2, he's great on a lot of angles. On the other hand he, much like half of the FF XIII trilogy's cast, suffer heavily from its writing. Still, his stripes aren't unearned.

[yellowocaballero]

that last snippet with tim and jason actually punched the breath out of me. wow. don't know how i ended feeling more empathy for jason in that scene despite 1) him being the one who wrote up a plan to beat a teen "almost" to death and 2) tim being the active POV character but ugh. i could actually feel the sickening lurch in his gut when tim made that comment at the end. would hate to have my own cocktail of shame thrown into my face like that. really well written!

Yeah. It's a, uh, messy situation. Everybody in the story has serious problems, and Tim and Cass frequently got the brunt of that. I can't talk too much about it because obviously nobody has context, but I can definitely say that Tim's life since he was 12 has been absolutely defined by Jason. Both because Tim dedicated his entire life towards upholding Jason's legacy; and because Jason's death controlled how Bruce interacted with Tim completely.

It's only somewhat stated, but Jason is from a time in the comics when Bruce was actually pretty chill. Bruce and Dick have been jerks to each other, and they've had bad fights, but a lot of the earlier Dick comics, and almost all the Jason comics I've read had a pretty easy-going Bruce. Bruce really mostly entered his asshole era from the 90s-00s. It shows up here as...Dick and Jason had a very different dad and childhood than Tim has had, and they're both struggling with that change.

So Jason's rolling up to see a kid who SHOULD be having a great time with a loving dad, but is in fact having the worst possible time. And it's because of Jason - what he's created, the good he did on the world, and the inevitable consequences of his death. Jason had only wanted to create good, but his attempts have created something terrible. Jason is the person who made Tim a hero, and he's also the person who ruined his life.

On the most basic level it has to suck to see what's become of his family. Makes it a lot harder to hate them - or at least it doesn't make it satisfying.

[calciumdeficientt]

Wade and Tom hcs pleaseeeee 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

I lov u wade i lov you tom. I actually have a whole post of tom hcs that you can check out here:

but i for sure have a few left in the tank!!!!!!1! Im gonna spritz some of my remaining tom ones, release my wade ones unto the world and then zoom in a little on their relationship >:D

TOM GURNEY AND WADE MARTIN HCS

TOM GURNEY

Skin picker. Big time skin picker. He just cant seem to help himself, its sort of a nervous tic. If he could just leave his fucking face alone for five minutes his acne would have cleared up a long time ago. Most of the marks on his face are actually just scars because he wont stop PICKING!!!!!

Saw the hobo get beamed up after the last fighting moves mission, i know this is pretty much canon atp but i think what would make it so much more batshit is if it had happened in BROAD DAYLIGHT. And no one other than tom gave a fuck. He comes out with all kinds of stupid conspiracy shit on the daily so no one even thinks to try and argue. They’re all like “yeeeah okay buddy whatever you say..”

Very emotionally mature, because of this he’s very painfully aware of all his shortcomings. He’s a good dude at heart but its aside pf him people never see. He’s pretty well renowned as the clique tapper, but honestly, he only talks so much because he doesnt wanna worry his friends by being all quiet and mysterious.

WADE MARTIN

MAAAAAAJOR little brother syndrome. He and Christy are only a year or so apart (possibly projecting bc that’s the gap between me and MY brother) but he gives me the vibe of a little kid who feels the need to show off because he’s younger. His general demeanour and outlook on the world tells me that he’s sort of crying out for attention and to some degree, help. He talks a lot about repeated suspensions, and the fact that no one seems to care about them anymore, and also the fact that he’s not doing all that well in his classes. He’s a kid that neeeds intervention, a firm shove in the right direction… and maybe some counselling. He’s practically jumping up and down on the spot yelling ‘LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT MEEE!’

More family hcs, but he and Christy only share their father. They have different mothers. Both women aren’t really in the picture beyond what the custody laws state they have to be. Christy’s mum left her with their dad when she was a baby, and Wade’s mum was his side piece. They divorced when Wade was 11. He hates both their guts for separating in what was a pretty tumultuous transition period in his life. If I’m getting my numbers right, 10-11 is the transition from elementary school to middle school. It was during this time that Wade started to struggle, he was a gifted student in his early years, and thus was left to his own devices. Because of that lack of support, his grades slipped and slipped and slipped, he just barely passed the entrance exam to get into Bullworth, and then started outright failing.

His hyper sexual voice lines are a way of deflecting away from how he really feels. Encouraged by his father, Wade feels he has to be this big, macho guy. He’s been brought up by his dad to believe high school is all about chasing tail and finding someone willing to have your kids straight out of the gate. In his head, Wade’s not about that at all. He wasn’t quite ready to be a man, he’d have liked a few more years of being a kid. Manhood is this big, scary, complex thing that he’s not ready for yet.. especially if its anything like Mr Martin tells him it is.

Takes great pride in his hair, but he does dye it. You can’t be a ginger bully, that’s like a spoon with holes in it or concrete scuba flippers. It doesnt work, its weird. It’s ugly. He and Trent do their hair together, he trusts Trent with it more than he trusts himself, the kid has been bleaching his own hair since he was 12, he’s a professional. And besides, he’s not gonna pay someone in a salon to dye it, what if he gets caught????

WADE AND TOM

They’re very close friends, I think wade was one of Tom’s first friends at Bullworth, back when he was this scrawny, quiet kid with a big ol birthmark over his eye. Wade had intended to beat the crap out of him to show him what was what, he looked weak and easy to snap. All brittle like a wafer cookie. Upon seeing his eye, Wade wrongfully assumed that someone has beat him to it, and knowing what a tumultuous home life could do to a kid, he invited Tom to come sit with them at lunch and he just… never left.

They really remind me of Troy and Abed from community dynamic-wise. One emotionally mature, but mildly childish dude (Tom) and one smarter than he appears meathead (Wade). Where they differ from Troy and Abed is instead of building blanket forts and acting out TV shows, they give swirlies and smoke cigarettes like they’re going out of fashion. “…” “…” “you wanna go do burnouts in the train yard dont you Wade” “Get OUUTA MY FRIGGIN BRAIN MAN! How’d you know that?!” “Lucky guess.”

Closer with each other than anyone else in the bullies clique. They lay on the roof after curfew and talk. For HOURS. They’ve been doing it for so long now that they’ve started smuggling sleeping bags and blankets up there so they can just sleep once they’re done. Wade likes that he can be open with his troubles about home., his many many troubles. Every day there’s a new home trouble. Tom talks about his fears about the secrecy at Bullworth and his theories, he feels like Wade is the only one that even bothers to TRY and see his point of view. Wade cries a lot during these little almost-therapy sessions. And Tom is right there with him, patting his back and wiping his tears. It’s cute.

Garage band duo. Tom is the drummer, Wade plays the three power chords he knows on his busted up hand-me-down Stratocaster that can barely plug into the amp anymore and really desperately needs new strings, and screams into the mic. It’s pretty hardcore, but it doesn’t actually sound all that bad. They work pretty well as a two piece and have played a total of four gigs, but its always been foe them anyway. They don’t wasn’t the gig money or the fame, they just wanna rock out.

[crow-of-paradise]

I've read through about 35% of WoR over the last week and it's been so so sosososos goooood

First of all, I love the color palette for the cover. The blues are so pretty to look at. Second of all, I love my depressed son more and more each chapter. Dalinar is the only one who gives him any respect!! I've probably highlighted every time their 'eyes meet' - the way it's shorthand (TO ME) for the inexplicable amount of trust they have in each other....... Even as they're still getting to know each other, even when Kaladin's past trauma with lighteyes comes up, their connection and pull towards each other, that innate trust born from the honor they sense in one another... I'm EATING IT UPPPP!! They are both still my favorite character POVs to read so far, I love them so much and I need Dalinar to help Kaladin heal from his trauma. And maybe kiss him a little, idk. TBH, LET'S BE REAL, I NEED ANYONE TO KISS KALADIN A LITTLE. THIS BOY HAS PROBABLY NOT BEEN KISSED EVER. He needs JOY. He needs to know he is LOVED. I NEED SOMEONE TO LOVE HIM, LOUDLY, CONSISTENTLY (good job to bridge 4 so far ur doing amazing sweeties). IF I HAVE TO READ ABOUT HIM CRYING AND SUFFERING, I'M GOING TO NEED TO KNOW HE WILL BE KISSED AT SOME POINT. (but also jk I love crying Kaladin, it really does a number on my emotions!!!) To that end, I do see the Adolin/Kaladin vision. The appeal is pretty obvious LOL I definitely sail that ship too. The way they are actually the same person cracks me up. The only difference is Adolin's had more practice keeping his temper under control. But they both have that same I-am-an-Adult-but-I-still-have-a-teen's-emotional-regulation energy, and I love that for them - their practice grounds tussle gave me life - and I also can't wait for them to start loving each other too! The part with Adolin realizing he does not have any true friends GUTTED me. Kaladin can be that for him!!! He just likes his dad so much more LOL. But brandy sandy moves slow and I love/hate him for it.

LIKE FOR EXAMPLE, the Shallan chapters have dragged for me a little bit, like I feel like she should be at the plains already lmao, and I can see Brandon doling it out piece by piece among the rest of the action. But Gaz being back really made me happy! I always enjoyed him, and Pattern is so endearing to me as well. The first interaction with Kaladin went about as expected, lmao, his natural state is Not Amused, and Shallan is such a jokester at heart. I can see myself really enjoying their dynamic. I'm so pleased we're getting Parshendi/Listener POV and already I love Eshonai! Super excited to get to her meeting with Dalinar. THAT BEING SAID, it's been getting harder for me to wrap my head around the new lore being introduced LMAO, specifically the magic on the Listener side of things, and the whole spren being betrayed thing is muddled up in my head with the knights radiant "betraying" humankind. IS ODIUM A SPREN THE WAY THE STORMFATHER IS? OR ARE THE VOIDBRINGERS SPREN? When the Listeners mention their gods, do they mean the voidbringers? IS THE ALMIGHTY A SPREN?? But I've learned from TWOK that the information WILL be repeated a few times from all the different POVs and so I feel I am in good hands in that regard and I don't need to sweat understanding every detail presented to me right away. I DO love how wildly different spren can be! AND FINALLY - LAST NIGHT I got to the first Szeth and Kaladin confrontation/fight AND IT WAS SOOOOO FUCKING GOOD OH MY GOD. WHAT DID YOU DO TO SZETH, KALADIN!!! HE HAD A MELTDOWN AND RAN AWAY WITHOUT FINISHING THE JOB!!! I am S H O O K!!! And as far as what I've been spoiled for (almost always entirely my fault LOL): Moash is gonna betray Kaladin in some way. Idk when or how or why, but it's made my anticipation grow and made me pay closer attention to Moash, who I already had a soft spot for as he and Kaladin (KAL HE CALLS HIM KAL) grow closer. The fact that Kaladin sees him as his most real friend.... ouuughhh. Mmmm, Y'SMELL THAT?? SMELLS LIKE ANGST. Also I am cracking up at this meme from twitter bc this is truly me when I try to imagine Shadesmar (IT HAS NOT YET BEEN DESCRIBED LIKE THE FIRST IMAGE THO, IN MY DEFENSE):

AND ANOTHER THING: Jasnah can't be dead, but the way Shallan and that letter excerpt from Navani for the chapter headers processed her death really bummed me out, lol. Like I am mourning her with them EVEN THOUGH ALL EVIDENCE POINTS TO HER BEING ALIVE. I cannot wait for her and Shallan to reunite!!

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S02E07

Took a break but we're back.

I like the episodes in the woods. I don't much care to go in the woods but I like watching them lol. The shots are really beautiful too.

That's a nice shot too lol. Although, what the actual hell is going on with... is that supposed to be water? Are these dust particles? What?

Note that there is no tattoo on his arm yet.

Rex: Why the fuck am I doing this, Charlie?

"Is this the dog I read about on the paper? The one who can find anything?" That's... not exactly what Rex does.

Parks and Recreation fans know.

They're already in love because I'd hit him with the trash bags.

I think Rex is leading the interrogation on this one.

Time for a hike!

Oh, Charlie. He's a city boy. And we also learn that he hates spiders. Sarah, on the other hand, was a Pathfinder which, aside from what the word implies, I have no idea what it entails.

Who made the executive decision for the shot to stay there for like ten seconds?

I believe Emmanuel Kabongo also guest starred in S6 in the superhero episode.

"They can't keep us here long. We're cops". Oh, they could very well keep you but who would want to?

Yay, Kendra! Finally.

"It's the 21st century, Charlie, you don't have to choose anymore". Words to live by.

Oh god, Sarah, that was so subtle.

Children, please. We're in the middle of an investigation.

The flirting continues in the lab. It's really a wonder they manage to solve so many cases when they are like this all the time.

The mug says MUGSHOT in it. Do you have any idea how long it took me to figure out that downstairs is a coffee shop? Also, how many precincts have a coffee shop in the ground floor? SJPD is living it up.

"That's right, I brought my dad this time and he's gonna kick your ass". Disregard the fact that they have like two years of age difference, whoever is the captain (or in charge) at a precinct immediately gets awarded with the "tired parent" title because they will be the person who will be holding the rest of them back from doing stupid shit.

"Are you posing?" "Google Earth. Always taking pics."

lol Charlie and Valentine fighting for who is the alpha team. I know who's ending up in jail, though.

Again, I would like a scene like this with Charlie and Sarah, please and thank you.

While Charlie was ultimately right, at some point there was no evidence to support his theory that Alia was innocent and not the culprit in all this. In other words, he was just being stubborn. Contrary to what many shows support, you can't lead an investigation based on your gut.

"You're the best cop I've ever known and I'm the best ranger you've ever known". Considering that you two don't exactly live in a metropolis, that's... insignificant.

Joe's "...otherwise it's not a nation worth protecting" line is good. I mean I don't want to write all of it but it's good.

That's a ferocious beast! So pretty, though.

Felt cute, might delete later.

Jesse asking Charlie to give his entire theory for Valentine being the culprit while Charlie is running and trying to catch his breath lol

Let Charlie have his angst moment! Don't inform him immediately that Rex is fine.

See, Valentine easily snuck up behind Best Cop.

I'm sure that Charlie and Kendra fucked after this episode, when Charlie went back to the woods to "check how the wolf was doing".

I love that Charlie doesn't want Sarah to realize how much of a total boor he is when it comes to art. Like she doesn't know! Don't worry, art knowledge is not your selling point.

Establishing "team as family". I actually like the subtlety of this one, I don't like it when in shows they keep saying it. Let it happen naturally.

I guess these are the best screenshots of these photos I've taken. 1080p, baby! I'll put these here as well since this has gotten too long once again.

[rubykgrant]

Simmons would rather talk about ANYTHING ELSE besides his own gender/sexuality... but I have some thoughts~

(mostly connected to stuff that comes up in my big RVB story-line)

First of all, his parents are just sucky people. In general. They only wanted to have kids in the hope of impressing a relative, get some of that inheritance money... however, the baby was a little over-due, the relative passed away before the birth even happened, so no extra kid added to the will. Poor baby was a "disappointment" from the start.

By the time the kiddo turned 7, the question- "What if I was a boy?" had become- "Can I BE a boy?". Mr and Mrs Simmons had actually hoped for a son anyway, so they were "accepting" of this (but make no mistake, if this wasn't something they wanted for themselves, they would have been more UNPLEASANT). Because they already moved a couple of times and changed schools, Richard was able to start over where nobody knew who he was previously. A relief in some ways, however... mom and dad were very insistent that the "past" never be discussed. Again, it was encouraging to begin transitioning (first socially, then later medically), but Richard was taught not to acknowledge he was trans at ALL, which began a lot of internalized self-resentment from the get-go.

His dad was the one who would keep on "testing" him as he grew up, purposefully putting Richard into situations where he would have to prove himself, in the most backwards, nonsensical, and frankly- sexist ways; "A REAL MAN is better at sports than girls, so prove you can win against all the girls in your PE class!" and so-on. Obviously that's BS for SEVERAL reasons, and it just sets Richard up to have a weird ego-failure complex, and also think there is such a thing as "running girly laps".

Richard was always pretty scrawny, and during highschool, he had a growth-spurt that made him extra tall and lanky. More awkward, basically. He had a flat chest all on his own, but thanks to teasing from other kids, he was extremely nervous about EVER taking his shirt off. Thanks to the weird background-sexist-radiation from his dad, he thought it was just a given that he should be interested in girls... but he's a little afraid of girls (especially all the competitive jock girls who hate his guts for making them lose during team competitions). He almost tries to force himself into having crushes, but nothing ever clicks.

Once he's out of highschool, he gets surgery (no need for top, because- flat), and is hoping that he'll be able to start having A Real Life now... but he doesn't get into college, he can't get a job anywhere, he doesn't have any friends to live with, and his parents are threatening to just kick him out if he doesn't prove himself yet again. The last option is to join the Red Army, so that's where he goes... and then ALL THAT happens.

Simmons didn't exactly "come out" to anybody while in Blood Gulch, but after the whole surgery incident with Grif, Sarge knows about Simmons' medical history, and he doesn't call attention to it. In many ways, it is similar to what his own parents did (and partially why Simmons imprints on Sarge as a father figure). However, even through all the weird insults and ramblings, Sarge ironically gives Simmons more "attention" than his actual dad. It isn't always GOOD attention, but this is also the first time somebody has known this aspect of who Simmons is, and didn't treat him differently after the fact. So. That's almost kinda-sorta good? (it is still not great, because Sarge is an a-hole, but you take what you can get).

Simmons the proceeds to spend the next decade+ bickering with Grif, and not noticing MORE is going on, because they're both stupid (affectionate) (also FRUSTRATED). Simmons is still dealing with a lot of issues that are basically set in stone within his brain. When he starts to finally have genuine friendship feelings toward Grif, that alone is weird, because he barely likes anybody, and almost nobody ever likes him. When a whole CRUSH starts to happen, Simmons does not even get it. WTF is with all these weird gay thoughts in his head? Where'd that come from? For somebody who claims to be SMART, it takes him a while to do the math on this.

Eventually, waaaaay down the road, there would be some event, maybe around the younger generation on Chorus, where people are sharing things they've learned about gender/sexuality. A few of the Reds and Blues are kinda casually like- "Oh, I didn't know there was a word for that, I guess that's me!" or even- "I don't share this often but, yeah. I'm transgender," and- "I guess some of you already know, but I still want to say it. I'm gay"... and Simmons. He is just petty enough to FINALLY say- "I'm GAYER". It also takes him a full minute to remember, and add- "Oh, uh. I'm trans, too. More trans than you. I named myself Dick. I WIN"

He also works on un-packing internalized sexism and what-not, and when he reconnects with the girls on his team, he's much less nervous and better at treating them as individual people. He's aware of how much he used to suck, and it took a long time, but he's finally doing the whole "personal growth" thing. His parents still suck, but after the extended family of friends in his life have gone through changes as well, Simmons can see where he actually belongs

[lunar-years]

everyone has different interpretations of scenes, but for real that scene with jamie and roy was just plain sexist. roy seriously said "i don't know if we're getting back together because she's a woman and you never know". like what the absolute fuck was that line? they showed up to her house condescending, completely unapologetic about their behaviour, and treated her like a trophy prize. she deserved to beat them up. jamie and roy have always been troubled characters, but they were never (not even in season one) sexist assholes. the show went out of its way multiple times to establish that even when they made mistakes it was due to personal insecurity and not misogyny.

and whenever it was something misogynistic, it was heavily criticised as such, which, in this episode, it was not. a lot of people did seriously not catch the blatant sexism of it at all and went "that's how these men act" (again, what the fuck?). jamie spent season three being respectful of roy and keeley's breakup and not making a move on her, out of consideration of roy's feelings. roy, who knows how abusive jamie's father is, probably better than any other male character on the show, physically assaulted him. despite the fact that throughout the season roy has been approaching jamie with affection, realizing that's what he needs to feel secure (complete disrespect to 2x08 too, one of the best episodes of the series). and while we're on the topic of violence, roy and jamie were never this violent with each other, even when they hated each other's guts. jamie, who gave keeley a truly heartfelt apology about the leaked video, making a point to not victim-blame or engage in literally ANY other sexist behaviour, just brings it up to upset roy in a dick-measuring contest. and one episode ago, one fucking episode ago, they were all getting along, keeley and roy were obviously trying to get back together, and jamie wasn't one bit bothered by it. they were holding hands on his bed and he saw them and smiled! regardless of whether you think the roykeeley arc was rushed (i do), jamie might have been heartbroken or sad, but he wasn't, not once, established as jealous of them. and this entire season was devoted to roy and jamie becoming friends by slowly growing comfortable around each other and actually trusting each other. every single one of those things was thrown into the trash. and yeah, sure, progress isn't linear and perfection isn't possible for people, but that WAS NOT regression. roy and jamie were never sexist dicks. those were two completely different characters.

ALSO, this scene normalizes the idea that it's perfectly forgivable to revert back to sexism whenever emotionally distressed, even if you are generally not like that in your life. it's not. in reality, you're either sexist or you're not, and doing this in one scenario will absolutely mean that you will be sexist in different scenarios too. nobody in real life will be sexist in some areas of their life and feminist in others. implying that this isn't the case shows a very poor understanding of feminist theory and ted lasso has more or less done a good job at not being sexist. i feel like this really excuses unacceptable behaviour that the show itself tells us, with rupert particularly, has very real consequences that perpetuate violence against women. to me, the light-hearted resolution of that whole scene was terrible and poorly written at best. people in the writers' room typed that scene, read through it, and did not find it weird at all. though it's not the first time in the third season, see: forgiving jamie's dad and far-right bigots (???).

and lastly, when people were asking for a love triangle resolution, they meant something fitting for the year of our lord 2023. healthy communication and conversations, mutual respect and love between the charactets, maybe even polyamory (3x11 had a great ot3 set up, too). nobody meant we wanted something from the fucking 1950s. literally the only worse way this could have played out would have been if keeley ended up with the one that caused the other more damage. legit disgraceful ending for roy and jamie as characters, and for the show as well. considering everything it has stood for so far.

(i'm sorry if this reads like i'm calling people out, i'm not, really, i'm just very mad. and also really sad, because i did not go into the ted lasso finale expecting unaddressed sexism. like that was Really Very Bad. for this show especially).

woahhh there's a lot going on here, anon. For anyone wondering, I'm assuming this is a response to this post of mine. While I don't mind discussion or being called out... this does feel like something that could've very well been your own post or an open response to mine instead of an anon note. Because if you've read my meta, you'll probably already know I'm not going to agree with you on this.

Just gonna drop a few short thoughts because I don't have energy to write a think piece when my broader thoughts are already contained in my original post:

I'm not sure where you think I was trying to excuse their words or pretending they weren't being sexist or like they weren't treating Keeley as a weapon in their own games or a prize to be won. I think there's a difference between excusing someone's actions versus trying to understand where they were coming from for the characters and where they are at now.

"while we're on the topic of violence, roy and jamie were never this violent with each other, even when they hated each other's guts" Roy & Jamie were literally beating each other up in the locker room and brawling right out there on the pitch in season 1, anon.

"Keeley and Roy were obviously trying to get back together, and Jamie wasn't one bit bothered by it." this is just not true. Roy was trying to get back together with Keeley. Keeley wasn't shown to be reciprocal (beyond sleeping with him, which is a repeated pattern of behavior for her on the show, and something she in fact did with Jamie in season one), and Roy misinterprets it, as Jamie misinterpreted it. In fact, I'd argue Roy deciding it was a good idea to try and make him and Keeley happen right there in Jamie's bedroom with Jamie crying to his mum one room over, shows he wasn't thinking about Jamie, not when it comes to Keeley. Roy wants what Roy wants and he assumed he was going to get it. And Jamie went through a whole journey of expressions when he opened that bedroom door, so I don't think it's fair to say he "wasn't one bit bothered." I think we've established at this point Roy and Jamie both love Keeley and have always been weird and jealous about it with the other.

"this scene normalizes the idea that it's perfectly forgivable to revert back to sexism whenever emotionally distressed" this scene didn't normalize anything, because the show immediately acknowledged that Jamie and Roy were both in the wrong and had Keeley rightfully kick them to the curb for it. The narrative was not that this is okay or acceptable behavior. I definitely didn't see the scene as light-hearted

"nobody in real life will be sexist in some areas of their life and feminist in others." i am a woman who considers herself very much a feminist. That doesn't mean I've never had moments of internalized misogyny or made harmful comments that buy into a patriarchal narrative, despite myself. Well-intentioned people make mistakes. We are all works in prog-mess trying to get through life as the best people we can be. Jamie and Roy, in my opinion, are fictional iterations of the same principle. I don't think this comes even close to destroying their entire characters in the way you are implying.

All the best x

[funkii-fox]

Akira and Yukako Siblings Head Canons

They have the same mom but different dads, hence different family names. I will refer to Akira’s dad as “Otoishi” and Yukako’s dad as “Yamagishi” for simplicity

The curly hair gene is actually from their dads. Their mom just has a type. But their mom does have naturally thick eyebrows that she passed down.

Akira is jealous of Yukako’s naturally beautiful, curly hair; his hair is naturally more flat, straight, “wavy” than curly. So he tries to emulate it with curling irons and rollers. Not just that, but one up her by dyeing it all sorts of colors. Little does he know, dyeing it makes it die and look worse.

When Akira was 3 years old, Otoishi divorced their mom bc she had a secret affair with Yamagishi. Otoishi found out when their mother got pregnant with Yukako. Yamagishi and their mom married soon after. Akira never really got to see his dad after that; Otoishi didn’t want anything to do with him, his mom, or their new family.

Yukako was born on November 30th 1983. She is canonically a Sagittarius; you can see it because she’s passionate, idealistic, and wild. Akira was also born on July 27th, 1980, making him a Leo (not canon). He’s also passionate, but his other main traits are creativity and humor. Both signs are fire signs, symbolizing energy, strength, and brightness. Even if you don’t believe in zodiac signs, you can’t deny they are both similar in personality.

Personality disorders run in the family; not necessarily genetically, but circumstances that increase risk of developing it repeat over and over in generations. In this case, neglectful parents that favor the boy make Akira feel comfortable enough to hurt his little sister, making her sensitive and explosive.

Most older siblings are excited to have a little sibling. They protect, play with, and care for them. But Akira never felt happy about a little sister because he wanted all the attention on him. The first time he laid eyes on her, he just didn’t understand why adults cooed over her. “She’s not cute. She looks like every other baby. I bet I was cuter than that. In fact, I’m still cuter than her, even now!” Not just that, but her crying would frequently mess with his studies or sleep. Even worse was how she would crawl and eventually waddle towards him. “Stop following me!” Akira couldn’t hide in his room anymore because Yukako learned how to open doors. It got really annoying when she started talking. “Akiki! Play with me!” “No! I’m 7 and you’re 4! You’re boring to play with!” The few times when he did play with her, he was rough. Hair pulling, hitting, scratching. He didn’t even normally play like that; he just hated his little sister and pretended to be playing when he hurt her. It didn’t help that his mom would just say “boys will be boys” and didn’t care. So it just kept going, and got worse as they got older

Yukako was 10 and Akira was 13. At that age, boys start to work out to become big and strong. And at that age, girls start to become emotional because of hormones. She had always kinda fought back, but now she had the guts to challenge Akira. Still, she stood no chance against the preteen boy. Only when she turned 13 and Akira 16 did she ever win a fight. Akira better count his lucky stars that he moved out before she got a stand.

Akira always got a slap on the wrist for fights. His parents saw it more as a boy needing friends to roughhouse with and didn’t realize his own strength. It didn’t help that Akira acted like a kicked puppy the few times he got in trouble. But when Yukako started fighting back, she got actual punishments like getting her privileges taken away. The reason being that Akira can’t help himself, but Yukako is a young woman that needs to learn how to be patient. “Men only get worse. You need to learn how to handle them,” their mother would tell her. No doubt this only made Yukako even angrier; being told you’re being dramatic hurts, especially if it’s for something that is an actual problem.

As they got even older they chilled out, mostly because Akira kept getting beaten up by Yukako. They’re not friends because they’re too immature to put the past behind them, but they don’t beat each other up anymore. It got even better when Akira moved out; the animals just needed separate enclosures

It’s crazy awkward between Akira and Koichi, yk bc he kinda tried to kill him and all. You will never understand how embarrassing it is to have dinner in front of the guy that witnessed you bust a load in your pants over a sweet riff. Thankfully, Koichi holds no grudges; truly a kind soul! They also agreed to never let Yukako know about the entire Killing Joseph thing- just too much to explain and no doubt Yukako would have Akira’s head on her wall if she knew the full extent of his crimes. “YOU DID WHAT?!”

Similarly, Akira doesn’t know that Yukako had Koichi hostage. Akira already encourages Koichi to get out of there. “You don’t know what you’re getting into!” Yeah, he does. Akira would never let Yukako live it down. He would make a lot of teasing remarks “reminds me of when you had Koichi locked up.” The fighting would start all over again.

I also like to think that Akira would also be a yandere in a way. He has the impulse to steal them away from the world for sure. “You’re mine!” I don’t think he would put them through weird academic tests, but he would be equally controlling and forceful. It manifests differently because he’s a male and toxic, over the top actions are common from men.

If Akira ever got a partner, Yukako would DEFINITELY tell them all the embarrassing stuff he’s ever done. “He wet the bed once when he was 15.” It’s between them though; Akira will never know about the gossip.

Yukako will also definitely make sure to embarrass Akira publicly when he’s a famous rockstar. “The great Otoishi Akira is actually a loser! He’s a momma’s boy!” I can imagine hordes of Akira’s parasocial, obsessed fans attack Yukako online, but she doesn’t care. At least, she says she doesn’t. But with her personality disorder, I can imagine she takes it very personal and reacts violently. But she still continues; anything to bring down her asshole brother. It would also definitely start fights again at any family reunion. But instead of physical fights, they spit very venomous words to each other instead. “You’re just jealous you’re not famous or hot!”

[cryptid-moose]

tattoo hcs for psych characters

Shawn: - Has a shitty, partially faded stick n poke tattoo of a pineapple on his ankle he did when he was 18 or 19 and couldn't afford to get a professional one done - He also has his mom's birthday tattooed on his wrist (professionally done this time), first line in roman numerals, the second in regular english numbers. Having that little reminder of his mom helps him during times when his mental health gets really bad. - Sometime after Henry gets shot Shawn considers getting his dads bday on his other wrist, idk if he went through with it or not tho.

Gus: - Gus doesn't have tattoos cause if his mother were to ever find out it would break her christian heart....and also she'd probably murder him lol /nsrs - He almost got a tattoo when he was drunk, but he bailed out at the last second. This actually happens quite often. - If he did end up getting a tattoo I'd like to imagine it'd be something space themed :)

Juliet: - Has this really cool floral design with lots of big flowers on the back of her shoulder - She wants to get DOZENS of other tattoos but currently hasn't found the time to schedule an appointment, especially cause most of the tattoos she wants to get done would take multiple, hours long sessions

Carlton: - He, unfortunately, committed the cardinal sin of getting your partner's name tattooed. He's got his ex-wife Victoria's name in a fancy font across his collarbone, probably another attempt to save his marriage -He's going to tattoo removal sessions tho thank god -His pain tolerance is usually higher than most people (he literally drank scalding hot coffee without screaming out in pain lmao), but getting a tattoo makes him so physically uncomfortable that i dont think he'd every get one again, despite how fun getting a tattoo of his favorite gun sounds lol.

Buzz: - Buzz canonically has had a Baha Men tattoo (removed), although this was according to Shawn so you can take that information with a grain of salt lol - Probably has a silly little lineart doodle of an alien somewhere - He and Francine have little matching tattoos of baby ducks <3, Buzz's has a cowboy hat and Francine's has a Wild Rag (the bandana thingies), the artstyle is very similar to the soft fluffy artstyle you see in older children's books, kinda like peter rabbit (but not quite peter rabbit) - Little banana wearing a cowboy hat 💪, Buzz likes cowboys and their hats - A couple doodles of his pets - He's like Kurtis Conner except not edgy (i dont actually think Kurtis is edgy thats just the only way i can describe the difference between them and their tattoos lmao)

Karen: - Has an Iris flower tattoo on her upper arm dedicated to her daughter - Probably has a book/movie quote somewhere - Other than that i don't really see her as being much of a tattoo person, she only ever gets tattoos if its something super meaningful to her

Woody: - Woody has a y2k style hello kitty tramp stamp, why? cause i think it would be funny as hell HSUADFVHUFE - He got it completely seriously too, was a gift from a "tattoo artist friend" (random guy he barely knows who bought a tattoo gun on amazon) - The linework is awful, Woody has never actually fully seen the tattoo, he just took the guy's word for it when he told woody it looked sick as hell. - Has shown it off to everyone at the sbpd, no one has the heart or guts to tell him how bad it looks, Lassiter almost did but Chief Vick stopped him - Has genuinely never occurred to him to ask someone to take a photo of it for him so he can properly see it

Henry: - You'd think he'd have a tattoo but surprisingly he doesn't yet - He would've gotten one already if not for the fact hes very indecisive about that stuff, the whole "drawing that will stay on your body for the rest of your life thing" is a lot of pressure for him - He just worries about getting something that he'll end up hating a few years down the line - Has considered getting a tattoo dedicated to Shawn on multiple occasions, but then Shawn pisses him off once more and he drops the idea again for another couple months lmao