#man i spent so long on this no one ever let me do comics again

[princemonarchempress]

alright MDP gang, come get ya'lls juice

[evasive-anon]

Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower

Fanon vs Canon

We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.

What I'm addressing:

What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Did Jason drug all the other Titans?

Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?

Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?

Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?

Was Tim crying or scared?

Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?

Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?

Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.

What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.

Look at these opening lines:

Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.

Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.

There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:

You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.

Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.

TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.

What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.

Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*

Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?

Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.

Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.

Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?

Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.

Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?

No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.

Does Jason break Tim's staff?

Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.

Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭

Tim crying/ being scared?

Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.

Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.

Message on the wall in Tim's blood?

TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.

Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.

Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?

Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.

[applejuicebegood]

Hi babes! It’s Naz (from @midnightorchids, I just realized you can’t send messages from side blogs unfortunately), I hope you're doing well!! I thought that since you're always sending me fun little scenarios, it's only fair if I send something back! Someone requested this prompt earlier this week and it’s quite rushed, but I thought you'd enjoy reading this as well. Let me know your thoughts!

-

Jason's hand grazes the soft surface of your skin, his fingers delicately tracing the thin lines of the new tattoo adorning your neck.

The tattoo was an homage to your love for him and he's touched. No one's ever made him feel this way before.

Jason's spent a lot time in the dark, closed off from the rest of world, feeling unlovable, but you made him feel otherwise. When he was with you, he no longer saw the horrid man he once thought he was. With you, he felt loved, he felt enough.

Jason bites back a smile and his fingers continue to dance around your skin, it tickles, but you let him continue.

The tattoo was more for you than it was for Jason, it was a constant reminder of his presence. A reminder for when he left for long missions, for when you were afraid he might not make it back. You now always had a piece of him with you.

You had it planned out for months and had finally got the courage to go through with it. Now, on the back side of your neck, sits a small bat, Jason's bat, his symbol.

Jason's fingers lace around your jaw, making you face him. He cradles your face gently into his palms and you find yourself snuggling into his touch.

"You did this for me," he questions softly, voice barely above a whisper.

"Just for you Jay," you reply and he smiles, hard, teeth and all.

"It's so fucking pretty, you're so pretty," and he places a soft kiss on your lips. "Can't believe you did this for me babe," and he kisses you again. With every kiss, you can feel him smirking harder against your lips, he's excited, he's happy.

He pulls back and laughs, rubbing his face with hands. His laugh is deep and contagious, you find yourself giggling with him.

"Holy shit dude, you really got a tattoo for me," he exclaims. "No one's ever done that for me before."

"No one better have Jay," you say furrowing your eyebrows, trying to get serious, but there's a huge smile plastered on your face. Jason reciprocates with a cheesy lopsided grin.

He pulls you in close again, this time embracing you with his large frame, you hug back tighter and he kisses the crown of your head, with a loud 'muah' sound.

"I love you," he says.

"And I love you Red," you reply and he takes that as a sign to continue smothering you with kisses.

NO CUZ I DON'T THINK YOU GET IT. Was literally having the worst time studying for English finals and then you part the clouds and grace me with this!!!! Like are you kidding???!!!!! And you best believe Jason has tattoos on his body specifically about you. In some of the comics and fanart he's got these detailed sleeves or back pieces, I personally think he's got a more patchwork kinda style. He would get your birth flower or the date of your anniversary tattooed on the inside of his wrist or his chest (over the heart). You would smile and hide your face in your own giddy puppy love as you lay across his naked chest, the tattoo just under your cheek. He think's it's incredibly funny and sweet. If you ever decide to get more tattoos yourself, he's coming with you to every session. It's more to help with the pain of it- offering his hand for you to squeeze or his arms to lean onto if ur feeling woozy and need a break. I think ya'll would get really small/subtle matching tattoos. Like a small sun and moon- or a the first letter of your names tattooed on the other. It's something easily hidden that only the both of you get to blush and giggle over. HAND TATTOOED JASON DEAR LORD ALMIGHTY- you would kiss over the lettering or the curved lined patters over the tops of his hands and across every knuckle. He melts as you bring his palm up to your cold cheek, now holding your face so gently.

- Man dude- like I said, was having a really rough go of it and this literally turned my day entirely around. Like I was able to get the rest of my review stuff done cuz I was feeling so much better after reading this. Your such a gift babe - thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!!! Masterlist

[lanadelnegan]

Wildest Dreams

Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader

Song inspo: Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift

Summary: Y/n's celebrity crush, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, makes her dreams come true when she meets him at a bar after the walking dead comic con.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, *Jeffrey is single*, plot, smut, sexual tension, cursing, sex, oral, daddy-kink

This is my first attempt at fanfiction ever, ahhh! Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

This can't be happening right now. I can't believe he's actually right there. I'm about to touch him.

"Well hello there." Jeffrey's smile widens as I approach his open arms. "What's your name, darlin'?"

"Y/n...Hi" I smile and let him wrap his arms around me.

"That is a beautiful name, y/n. You ready?"

"Yeah, but can we pose a different way though.. maybe looking at each other?" I ask, hoping he can't hear the nervousness in my voice.

"Absolutely, doll." He turns his body facing mine and gently places his fingers around my jawline, looking directly into my eyes and lifting my chin to meet his gaze. "Relax." His tone is soft but demanding.

The photographer counts to 3 but it feels like 10 because Jeffrey's hazel brown eyes are burning flames into mine. I swear this man is staring into my soul as if he can read every thought I've ever had about him. Including that one, because the left side of his mouth suddenly raises and he lets out a "negan-like" chuckle that only the two of us can hear.

I'm the first one to break away from our embrace and I can feel my cheeks redden as I take another glance at him. I make a mental note to never forget what he looks like in person and let my stare linger a little too long on his chest hair peeking out from his white t-shirt. His smirk grows wider and he leans down, putting his mouth next to my ear. "You... are adorable."

When he leans away, the smell of tobacco, leather, and sweet mint fills my lungs.

Even now as I sit in my car, his scent is burned into my nose and the front of my shirt.. I'll never wash it again. My eyes close and my head falls back against my driver's seat.

The rest of my evening is spent binge watching The Walking Dead -season 7 of course - and ordering too much room service. I should go out. I drove 3 hours to Austin, TX.. by myself, which is a big deal for me. I should at least explore the city while I'm here.

I shower and throw on some jean shorts and a cute top, pretending I'm not bothered by the fact that I just washed any trace of my parasocial boyfriend off of me. At least I have this. I hold the picture we took and study it for the 48th time today.

After google searching "nightlife in Austin", Sixth Street seems to be where it's at, so I head that way and although it's only 7 minutes away from my hotel, it takes me 30 to find parking. I have no clue where exactly I'm going or what I'm doing, but hell - I met Jeffrey Dean Morgan earlier. If I could do that, I could do anything. I apply some lip gloss and tell my anxiety to go fuck itself before climbing out of the car.

Bright neon signs from every building light up the street and I smile to myself at the couples holding hands walking past me. I browse around at my options for drinks - not food - because I destroyed $70 worth of room service earlier - and make out the faint sound of Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift coming from one of the pubs up ahead as if it's calling my name. "Shakespeare's." the old sign reads, and I know that's the one. I make my way into the mildly crowded pub, find a seat at the end of the bar, and don't waste any time ordering a drink.

I bring up the picture of Jeffrey and me on my phone and study it.. for the 49th time today. I'm lost in my thoughts when a deep voice fills my ear. "Shit. That is one handsome dude." He takes a seat next to me and orders himself a drink while I stare at him wide-eyed and unable to speak. Oh.. my god.

Jeffrey orders his drink and turns his body towards me slightly with that signature grin on his stupidly handsome face. He breaks the silence since my lips seem to be paralyzed at the moment.

"Tell me what you're thinking, y/n." ... he remembered my name.

"I'm thinking that there is no way this is real life right now." I grin and look around, trying to mentally focus on suppressing the redness in my cheeks.

He laughs as the bartender places his drink down. "Want me to pinch you?"

"You can do whatever you want to me." I say under my breath as I sip my drink, surprised by my liquid courage. If he heard me, he ignores it and I internally cringe at myself.

"Cheers, darlin'." We tap our drinks and I throw my head back to finish mine completely. I sense his gaze on me and turn to face him completely. "So.. What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" He fires back.

"Apparently having a drink with my celebrity crush." I laugh and cringe again. I need to stop.

"Crush? Me?" sarcasm drips from his smirk as he sips on his whiskey. "Would have never guessed.. not with the way you were blushing like hell during our picture."

My mouth drops open. "I was not!"

"No? Lemme see then." He nods towards my phone in my lap.

I pause hesitantly before handing him my phone and unlocking it for him. Bad idea. Instead of looking at our picture, he clicks on the camera button and turns it to selfie mode. He raises my phone in front of us and leans into me. I'm caught off guard but quickly lean into him, our faces touching and I smile as cool, calm, and collected as I can be in this moment.

He snaps a couple pictures of us and looks at them. "We are fucking cute as shit." He shows me and I laugh.

He pulls some glasses out of his jacket pocket and slides them on his face while holding my phone. I watch him in awe as he takes it upon himself to browse through my phone. My heart drops when he goes to the home screen and sees himself as my wallpaper with cute little hearts and cherries surrounding him. Fuck.

I wait for his reaction but it doesn't faze him. And if it does, he says nothing. He stares at the screen a little longer then finally glances at me with a smirk before turning his attention back to my phone. His thumb presses the tiktok icon and I watch curiously. He's not seriously about to suggest we make a tiktok together. Ick.

Worse. Instead, he clicks on my favorites and multiple squares of his face pop up - edits of him. I almost reach for my phone, but part of me likes that he sees it. What is wrong with me.

He looks at me and raises his brow. For the first time all night, I don't blush when he looks at me and it seems to amuse him because he chuckles and looks back at my phone. He clicks on one of the edits and watches himself on top of another woman kissing her passionately. I watch it with him unashamedly. Before it ends, he suddenly clicks my screen off and hands me my phone back.

"Why did you save that?" he asks with a serious tone.

"Uh, I jus - I liked it." I shrug.

"You like watching me make love to women?"

I laugh to myself. "Uhhh. Yeah, I guess so."

He pauses and stares at me, this time with a serious expression. "Do you wish it was you?"

My eyes widen and I open my mouth to answer but no words come out.

He stands and puts his jacket on. Oh great, I scared him. Good job y/n.

"Let's go." He throws a $100 on the bar and motions for me to stand up too.

I'm obviously not going to question this man. If he tells me to bark, I'll bark. I almost faint when I feel his big palm firmly placed right above my backside as we're leaving.

We exit the bar with our heads down as we quickly walk to his car. He opens the passenger side and I get in, waiting for him to appear on the other side. Leather, mint, and tobacco fill my lungs and I'm gone once again.

I'm so lost in my head that I don't even notice that he's already in the driver's seat. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

"Don't ask me that. I don't even know anymore." My answer amuses him and he drives a few blocks away to one of the "rich" hotels. The entire ride over is awkward silence with the exception of Jeffrey blowing puffs of cigarette smoke towards the crack in his window every few moments.

"Y/n." He puts the car in park and turns towards me while flicking his cigarette out the window and rolling it up. "At any point tonight if you want to leave or.. you.. want me to stop, I need you to tell me, okay?"

I look at him and his face is the most serious I've seen it all day.

"Okay." I whisper.

"Come here." Is all he says before I'm leaned towards him over the middle console and so close to his face that our noses are touching. I wait for him to make the move but he doesn't. He looks down at my lips and sighs. "Fuck. I'm not going to kiss you."

I back away a little, feeling embarrassed before he continues explaining. He brings me back closer to him and his hand caresses my cheek. "I need you to understand that tonight is a one time thing, y/n. You.. you can't catch anymore feelings for me than you already have, okay? I'm going to make you feel good, but I'm not going to break your heart in the process."

The smell of his minty cigarette breath tempts me and I have to mentally restrain myself from not crashing into this man's lips. But I just nod instead.

"Good girl." Is all he says before he gets out of the car and comes around to open my door.

The way up to his room is quick and discreet. It's 11pm so we only pass two people on the way up and they didn't seem to recognize him. Even his hotel room is already filled with his signature scent, minus the tobacco.

"Would you like to stay the night with me, y/n?"

"Um, obviously. Are you kidding? ..Yes, I'd love to." I laugh and look around his room.

The lights are off, but the room is bright enough with the city lights shining through the windows. I fall into the bed dramatically on the side closest to the window.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower. Make yourself comfortable, okay?" he grins before closing the bathroom door. I stare back at the closed door and imagine what he looks like getting undressed behind it.

I glance around the large room and notice his phone sitting on the nightstand next to "his side" of the bed. He went through mine.. so it's only fair if I -

I reach over and grab his phone. 042266. I type in his birthdate and the phone locks. I laugh to myself. Too easy, old man.

There's a recent text message from.. my number? I click it and the picture he took of us at the bar pops up. And another one - our picture we took at comic con. He sent them to himself.

I don't want to intrude on his personal business too much, so instead I open his camera and take some goofy selfies. The bathroom door opens while I'm mid tongue out. He stops and stares at me as I slowly set his phone down on the bed. I shrug at him and he shakes his head a little and laughs. He appears in nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist. I turn my gaze away before I get carried away and my eyes get permanently glued to his torso.

"It's okay, y/n. You can look at me. In fact, I want you to."

I look back at him and don't even bother hiding how hard I'm checking him out now. I observe every hair on his chest and my eyes travel south until I'm imagining what he looks like under the towel. A lucky water drop runs down his flat stomach and disappears and I'm hoping the drool I just felt run down my chin was just my imagination. He walks slowly over to my side of the bed and stands next to me.

"You ready to find out what my cock looks like, y/n?"

If I was drinking water right now, I would have just spit it out all over him. I nod and he drops the towel. His cock springs free and I stare at it in awe. He's about 7-8 inches of thick perfection and I've never seen something so hot in my life. He looks down at himself, a proud smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Tell me one of your fantasies, y/n. We're not doing anything tonight that you haven't already thought about."

"I - well, one of them is.. putting it in my mouth." I look up at him innocently.

"What are you waiting for, then?"

I get up and push him gently for him to sit on the bed, then get on my knees in between his legs. If I weren't still buzzing from the drinks earlier, there is no way I'd have the confidence to do this.

He leans back slightly with his hands on either side of him on the bed and looks down at me through lust filled hazel eyes.

"It's all yours baby." He smiles and tucks his bottom lip under his teeth.

I slowly take him into my mouth, savoring the taste of him - like man and fresh leather soap. I groan around him as I take him further and the growl that escapes his throat encourages me to take him as far in the back of my throat as I can.

"Fuuuck baby." His deep voice strains and I watch as his head fall back with pleasure. I continue steadily sucking him and stroking where my throat won't reach. His moans grow louder with each time he hits the back of my throat.

He suddenly thrusts his hips up slightly, causing me to gag and jolt back a little.

"Goddamn it, y/n. You are not making me cum yet." He hanks my hair back and his cock pops out of my mouth and stands strong against his stomach. It's big and wet and throbbing, and my legs clench together and the sight of him.

I stand up and take my shirt off, then my bra. Then slowly slide my shorts and panties down while facing away from him. A satisfied moan escapes his lips and he wastes no time grabbing me and throwing me on the bed. He positions me until my head is on the bed and my ass in the air before I feel his cock press against my soaked pussy from behind. He rubs himself against my wet slit until I'm whimpering and begging him to put it in me.

"Beg for me, baby." He slaps my ass and the sensation causes me to jump a little.

"Please, Jeffrey. I need you. Please."

"Baby, now I know that's not what you call me in your fantasies, is it?" Another slap to my bare ass makes me yelp.

"Daddy.. please!"

His dark chuckle fills the room and every one of my senses is on fire. His scent, his voice, his dick all surround me until I'm crying and pleading for this man to ruin me. "Please daddy, I need you. Please."

"Sorry, princess. I'm taking my time with you." He flips me over suddenly until I'm laying flat on my back. His knees push mine apart, signaling me to spread open for him until he positions himself above me. He leans over me until our faces are inches apart.

My hands roam over his lean body and scratch his back lightly as his lips travel down my neck. His hard cock slides back and forth between my slit and it feels too good every time it brushes my sensitive clit.

"Goddamn, you are soaking my fucking cock and I haven't even put it inside you yet, baby." he groans and bites my nipple gently before taking it into his mouth and sucking so hard it hurts.

He finally leans up, sitting on his knees, and positions his cock right at my entrance.

"Was I or gentle or rough in your fantasies?" He rubs the head against my clit before sliding it back down. My pussy is weeping for him at this point.

"Rough.. please." I choke out.

"Please.. what?" He growls.

"Please daddy!"

He chuckles. "You want it rough baby?" I nod and a tear runs down my cheek at how bad I need him.

"Be careful what you ask for." In one motion, he enters me fully, causing me to scream out at the sudden sensation. My body feels like it was just completely ripped in half, and I wouldn't want it any other way so I cry out for him to do it again. He smirks before pulling out all the way and ramming himself back in.

He starts thrusting at a steady pace and I concentrate on the way his balls feel slapping against me.

Even more tears fall from my face from the extreme emotions he's making me feel. Horny, desperate, obsessed, in.. love.

Fuck.

"Baby. Why are you crying?" He slows his pace and leans over me, assessing my eyes.

"I - I don't know. I - I just.."

"You want me to stop?" his voice is filled with lust and concern.

"No! .. No, don't stop. I just.."

I love you.

"I want it slower." I lie.

"Y/n.. I know you better than that already." He says gently as he thrusts into me deep and agonizingly slow. His lips brush over my ear. "Tell me, baby." He kisses my neck before grabbing my jaw firmly and looking for answers in my eyes. "Tell me, y/n, or I'm stopping."

I close my eyes and blurt out before I can stop myself. "I - I think I love you."

Jeffrey's expression falls serious and he looks back and forth between my eyes while slowly releasing my jaw. His head drops and his eyes close as if he just got slapped, but he continues fucking me.

"Goddamn it, y/n... I told you.. I told you not to catch feelings."

I just stare at him and cry. "I'm sorry."

He closes his eyes again tightly as if contemplating what he should do next. Before I can say anything else, his lips crash against mine. I kiss him back passionately and his tongue slips into my mouth. He picks up the pace with our kiss and his hips and I moan into his mouth.

"Fuck, baby. What am I gonna do with you?" his breathing grows faster and heavier with mine.

"Jeffrey.. fuck, I'm - I'm."

"Cum for me, baby." He growls and quickens his thrusts again.

I scream out for him and he moans into my neck.

"Jeffrey.. you know what else I fantasize about?" I ask him while trying to catch my breath.

"What's that, baby?" His balls slap against me over and over and over.

"What you taste like when you cum."

He lifts his head to look at me and paints a devilish grin across his face. "Yeah? You want me to cum in that pretty mouth, baby?"

I nod without question. I've dreamt about what this man tastes like for so long. If this is our one and only night together, I need to know.

"Fuck." He pulls out of me and leans back on his knees, bringing my head with him as his fingers tightly grip my hair.

"You ready, baby? Open up." His voice is deep and hoarse as he moans out and I swear I've never heard a man sound as sexy as he does right now.

His warm, salty cum fills my throat and I greedily swallow every drop of him, licking his tip until he's completely drained.

"Holyyy shit. Look at my dirty girl." He grins down at me and strokes my hair like he's proud.

He drops down in the bed and holds his arm out for me to lay next to him. I lay my head on his chest and listen to his rapid heart beat. A few minutes pass and I'm hoping he forgot about my little comment earlier. Well - big comment. I can't believe I told him I love him. I mean, I do love him and I think I have for awhile now, but why did I have to be a psycho and tell him that.

He finally breaks the silence. "Y/n.. We have to talk about it."

I sigh. Here it goes. "I know.. listen.. I didn't mean it. Obviously, I barely know you. I was caught up in the moment and I was just.. emotional. I promise I'm - I'm not crazy. I know this is a one time thing and I'm okay with that."

"Hmph." I feel his chest rise a little and he sighs. I lift my head up to look at him and he smiles wide at me before kissing my lips.

"That's too bad y/n.. Cause I was thinking we could do this again tomorrow."

The End.

If you read this, thank you so much. This is my first time writing fanfiction, so pls be nice. If you hate it, I'll cry. :') Xo,kb.

[s1llyalabaster]

Let Begones be Begones - Veritas Ratio

Where Ratio conceals his identity as a faceless and voiceless streamer, until he finally reveals himself to your surprise. College au! and also streamer au! Exes to lovers, reader is a bit sassy. ~1k words, SFW

a/n: i feel like i don't often write in ratio's perspective, so i wanted to give a go at it...

"FUCKING HELL!! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!!" The purple-haired man had heard through the thin walls separating your apartment flats. This had been the third time in probably an hour where your yells and screams had nearly broken Ratio's ears.

Yes, Ratio was a streamer himself, but at least he was courteous to his neighbours enough to use a text-to-speech application and an elaborately-designed model when streaming, so he didn't need to reveal his voice nor appearance. Hardly anyone knew about his job as someone who blabbers on the internet for money. Not his boring Architecture major classmates, nor his closest childhood friend, Aventurine.

One of the few people who knew about his side gig was the precisely the person living in the flat next to his. You see, you two shared the same passion for sciences and such, and ended up applying for the same major, which didn't end up very well, with a falling-out happening just months ago.

Ratio had seen you while throwing out the trash once, and upon his eyes meeting yours, his face morphed into a scowl that slowly spread across your face too. An eye roll was more than enough to show his dismissal of your existence, even after all the joyous times you two spent together. Or that time where holes were practically burning into his skull when he was presenting his "new idea of architectural geniusness".

He also knew that you two shared the same job, thinking nothing of it, as his method of earning money was too intelligent to not garner a few copycats here and there.

After a long day of studying and attending classes, turning his monitor on was the last thing Ratio wanted to do. Yet, he promised his viewers a "facecam" stream to celebrate his first year of streaming (which was also his first year of being stuck in ths terrible apartment complex). He did his usual routine of setting up his stream, with an additional flick of his bangs due to his first appearance as himself on stream.

Ratio went along with the stream as usual, doing his greetings, reading his donations, and throwing (jokingly) vile remarks at his chat. He wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, so with one last look at his phone camera, he turned off all his assets.

"Well, asides from me feeling extremely bare and upfront upon the eyes of you idiots, any thoughts?" Ratio spoke, his real voice unconcealed.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH- WHAT?!"

The man's head swiveled to the side in alert, eyebrows narrowing in annoyance. Your shrill shriek had once again assauted his ears. THE Veritas Ratio hadn't think this through enough, huh?

He sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat after the stream ended. Ears perking up at the loud knocks on his apartment door, Ratio dragged his tired body to the doorway, knowing full well that he would be bombardde with countless questions.

"What now?" He grumbled.

"YOU'RE TELLING ME YOU'VE BEEN HIDING THIS," your finger jabbed at your phone displaying his streamer profile, "FROM ME?" Ratio sighed, body practically slumping against the door frame. "Nobody said that being a streamer's exclusive to you. Now just- go back to your room before I slam the door in your face."

The realisation that you've been watching his streams was slowly dawning on his barely-function mind. Considering the type of content that he made which only appealed to a small audience compared to gamers or E-girls, he knew basically every recurring viewer.

Including the one who has been spitfireing snarky chat messages at him ever since the falling-out.

Oh.

It was comically ironic how Ratio was the one who ended up knocking on your door the next morning. He felt awkward, brain tingling from the predicament. This was the first time (not counting yesterday night) that he's talked to you personally in weeks, even months. His feet was tapping in impatience, hearing you stumble through your way to the door.

"Oh, it's you. What happened to wanting me to get out of your face?"

Ratio's fingers ran through his hair, strands of violet falling to his eyes. He was uncharacteristically silent, racking his brain for a proper reason that wouldn't make him lose his face.

"Well, I just- You know... Ugh! Why do you have to make this so difficult?!"

"I just... wanted to know why you decided to watch my streams."

You chuckled at his coy form, you wanted to burn it into your retinas. Not only because it was a very, very rare occurence, but also because you never wanted to let go in the first place. Ratio was the one who decided to break it off, saying that you were a distraction to becoming a greater scholar. You still remembered how hard you cried that night, and thinking back, he'd probably also remember due to how thin the walls were.

"Listen, it's not like I wanted to stalk you or something, I just happened to learn about it through a mutual friend. So if you're trying to manipulate me or hurt me again, today's not the day for it."

Ratio faltered. He didn't expect your sharp words to hurt this much. Each and every time he saw you in class, the deeper the hole in his heart would go. It's not like he wouldn't like to pursue you again, he was just incredibly scared. And knowing Ratio, he'd never admit to that.

You sighed, beginning to find the conversation pointless. You decided to turn back and return to your room to continue working on your essay. But before you could, a calloused hand grabbed your wrist firmly. You looked back to see Ratio with his head hung low.

"The things that you do to me... How come someone like me, someone who was born to use logic and reasoning, be so impulsive when it comes to dealing with you?"

You smiled, interlocking your fingers with his, gently rubbing your fingers on his callouses from writing and researching. He didn't disappoint you this time, and you knew that he wouldn't hurt you again.

You two shared a hug before you led him into your apartment.

"What's with all the mess? You'll never have a clear mind with such an unruly space."

Looks like he was back to his usual self.

[genericpuff]

Hi! Maybe this is a difficult question with no answer, but as a fan of Rekindled who might want to start their own comic, what do you suggest to avoid burnout? Do you start wiht writting the script right away, you doodle a bit,..? Thanks for reading, I love how you draw big noses, makes me more comfy with mine!

no fr my dark secret is that i've been experiencing burnout with my main original project that I've spent the last decade working on for literally a year now. this isn't the first long hiatus i've taken, the longest one i've ever been on has lasted two years, and it's undoubtedly not the last i'll experience because the lump of salt and fat and tissue that is my brain often overworks itself into exhaustion like a big dummy

rekindled has been my reprieve from the burnout. it has been my vacation from years of working on the same project, meeting the same deadlines, drawing the same characters, over and over and over again since before i was in college.

if there's anything working on rekindled has made clear to me, it's that i'm still capable of drawing comics. the comic-making isn't the problem. it's just that when you work on the same project for years and trap yourself in an uphill battle, eventually your climbing gear is bound to break.

if there's another thing that rekindled has opened my eyes to, it's the insanity that i put myself through prior to rekindled that led to my burnout in the first place.

i get people telling me that they couldn't imagine doing what i do, that even before i had my assistant helping me out, i was still able to put out 30-40 panel updates every week.

but before that, i was putting out 70-90 panel episodes of my original work. every week. full color. full spread action scenes. no assistant. very little financial gain aside from a couple patrons on patreon and one dedicated viewer on twitch, which i was also streaming on 2-3 times a week.

and now that i've been working on rekindled and even finding myself often crunched for time with that, i have zero clue, no idea, a complete lack of comprehension of how i pulled off 70-90 panels a week for months on end. there's a reason it resulted in burnout and i know that now. this comparison is not for the sake of a flex - this comparison is to make it clear that much of what i do isn't the norm and isn't exactly a healthy standard. case in point, i sneezed while sweeping up yesterday morning and it caused a muscle strain in my lower back/hips and i've been working out of my bed since, i'm in a lot of pain and it might mean i don't make any money this week if it's not better by the time i have to do my appointments at my day job on thursday. my need to create my personal passion projects is often at odds with my bad habits of not taking care of myself 。゜゜(´Ｏ`) ゜゜。

when it comes to tackling burnout, your guess is as good as mine. really it just comes down to rest. when burnout - real, true burnout - hits, it's not just "man i'm bored of working on this", it's "i can't even think of looking at this thing let alone working on it", it's basically akin to depression and it's an awful thing that i wouldn't even wish on my worst enemy (even with Rachel, I don't want to psychoanalyze her mental health but it does seem like she's possibly been experiencing burnout with LO for years now and that really sucks for her if that's true). so the solution is just as complicated as the cause, it's not something that you can just rest from for a week and come back from, it takes real long-term healing.

when I found my way out of that 2 year hiatus, it was in spring of 2019 and I decided to just work on a random comic page that wasn't even in the comic I was working on. and then suddenly it was like a switch flicked back into the on position and i didn't even finish what i was working on, i just went back to my original project and i kept working on it until it was finally finished at the end of 2021. as suddenly and randomly as it had set in, it was gone. but i can't just do the same thing this time, it just doesn't work that way.

that said, through all this, i've learned that my need to create is not restricted to any one tangible thing, i'm not doomed or designed to stick with the same words, the same faces, the same ideas until the end of time. while i do try to keep up healthy routines for myself to ensure i'm looking out for my future self and their deadlines and their upload schedules, sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants. and in my case, the heart wanted to take a break from the self-reflective psychological analysis dark fantasy weebo stuff and just draw some pink and blue characters a little less ugly. the self-reflective weebo shit will still be there when i'm done with the pink and blue stuff, and i'll surely have loads of new things to unpack through it once i return.

there are still times when i'm working on rekindled and i'm feeling the creeping hand of my routine destruction digging its claws into my back. the reality is that 30-40 panels is still a lot for someone like myself who's doing this entirely for free, but my definition of normal for a while was so insanely inhumane that even what's still considered a lot by most people's standards feels sane and normal to me after what i put myself through.

i've learned to be more gentle with myself, and to loosen my own expectations of what i'm capable of to ensure i don't do anything like that to myself, by myself, again. i give myself room to create without expectations or the pressure of eyes watching when i can, and i remind myself that even if burnout rears its head again, and again, and again, the will to create is not gone. it's just tired, and resting, and growing, and healing as i am.

anyways that turned into a self-reflective essay post, to answer your question about making stuff ahead of time, i find that's more helpful with just like, planning out a structured story (so you don't write yourself into a corner) but whether or not it helps with burnout kind of depends. because it can just as also easily be the cause of the problem because constantly seeing the stuff you wanna be drawing so far away can be just as much of a morale killer as a motivator. some of the stuff i'm super psyched to write and draw with time gate is years away and that timeline grows longer the more the burnout goes on which makes the struggle feel even more overwhelming and pointless and defeating. so plan ahead, but keep it all within your means if you can. i find what works for me is planning out just general beat-to-beat plot structures (to ensure i at least have a plot skeleton going on so i know where i'm going) then i leave the finer details to when the actual episode i've planned gets closer to fruition and i can get myself in the headspace to write it fully.

also remember that just because you're really excited and motivated to work on your comic doesn't mean you should work yourself into exhaustion - it's a good thing if you're going through the mundane of your daily routine and the whole time you're hyped af to work on your hobby/personal project/etc. because that's what will keep you moving forward, so don't spend all that hype in one place by working and working and working until you're exhausted, because that hype is REALLY hard to get back after you've spent it all.

long post over! hope that helps! best of luck in your projects! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[liamobrienlove]

My MCM Comic Con Experience

Oh y'all, i have been wanting to talk about this to anyone who will listen haha Sorry this post is a bit late but it's been busy at work since i got home.

Where do i even begin? I met Liam! Still seems surreal even though i have photo evidence haha Let's just start with meeting him!

First up on the Saturday morning was meeting up with the amazing @formulares - who is amazinnnng btwwwww! had so much fun! 10/10 would recommend being friends with him lmao

Next it was time to get in and get in line for the Liam autograph! CR had their own section for autos which was great because the queues were SO LONG. Luckily, we were like 5th in line! When they all came out, the whole room erupted and the cast looked utterly amazed and completely taken a back with the turnout. Here starts the whole Liam experience haha I made Ares go first because i just couldn't and to watch is conversation with Liam was special. Liam is a special guy, i'll say that.

When i got to him, i was so nervous and he just made me feel like we were old friends. I gave him some letters i had to give and then the dice i'd brought him and he was so happy and rolled them! got a Nat 1 on his first roll but rerolled because halfling luck hehe and got a much better number! i then was able to tell him how much his characters and he have helped me through a lot in recent years and he was so grateful and wrote a lovely message on my print i was getting signed (which i'm not going to share yet as i will most likely be getting it as a tattoo) and then that was the end of the auto portion! when i went in for my photo with him, he remembered me! ahhhh and then we had the cutest picture and he gave me a bug cuddle as i was leaving. Liam is an amazing human, so kind, sweet and humble. I'm hoping i get to meet him again in the near future because truly, one of the best moments i've ever had.

Then i had photos with Travis (who was making sure to ask everyone their names and shake their hand before the photo) and was thanking everyone as well once they were done. it was so sweet!

I did have a Sam photo op but because i was anxious about not making it to my Taliesin one (sam's was the same time as Travis), i gave my photo ticket to Ares who had a great picture with Sam (who is really tall!). Next it was time to have my photo with Taliesin who is just a super sweet man and was wonderful! i love my photo with Taliesin so much! he was so excited to meet everyone!

Now, onto meeting Matt! Bear in mind i queued for three and a half hours to meet him. One thing i will say is MCM need to work on their queuing system because the line for matt was 4 people wide and just didn't seem to go down! By the time i got to the front i was emotional and overwhelmed and i think Matt could see that right off the bat. He shook my hand and asked my name and then we jumped into what was a very amazing and sweet conversation, where when i started to get emotional, Matt took hold of my hands (he's an utter sweetheart) and when i told him how much this show, this world had changed my life, he was just so receptive and so humble about it all and just amazing. Then he got up to give me a hug and it was so sweet of him - that man just adores every single person/fan. He spent time talking to every single person and stayed late to make sure everyone got to meet him.

i cannot begin to put into words how amazing they all were. From seeing Travis, Laura, Ashley, Marisha, Sam and Tal interact with everyone when standing in line, to how they were in photo ops - this cast are genuine and amazing. I count myself lucky to have been able to see them in person and cannot wait until i'm able to again in the future. I just adore them and it's an experience i will never, ever forget.

[cowgurrrl]

Hey sweet girl!! I hope you’re having a good day/night!! I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do something with preoutbreak!joel and sick reader? Like a cold/allergies and it comes and goes 😭 allergy season is kicking my butt so badly and I need some Joel comfort. Thank you my love!! 💕✨💐💗

Hi nonnie!! I hope you’re feeling better and I’m so sorry for sitting on this for so long! Please enjoy <3 (gif by @azertyrobaz)

“Joel, it’s just a cold,” you say, practically wrestling to grab your jacket from him. He moves it out of your grasp, and you roll your eyes. “‘M fine. Really.”

You’d been battling a cold for the past few days. Nothing major— just some sniffles and headaches, but it was still enough to set Joel on edge. He’d spent almost every waking moment tending to your every need, even though you could take care of yourself. You knew it was his anxiety. You knew it was his way of showing love. You knew all these things and assured him you were fine, but when he refuses to let you go on patrol with him, you’re about ready to lock him in the house.

“You know you’re just about the most stubborn man I’ve ever met?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he hums as he hangs your jacket back on the hook and looks at you. You cross your arms over your chest and give him an annoyed look. He sighs and puts his hands on your biceps, pulling you out of your defensive stance. “Humor me, please? Just take an extra night to rest, and then I’ll feel better,” he says, interlocking his fingers with yours. “I’ll run you a nice bath and everythin’. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Fine,” you give in. He smiles and holds to your hand when he walks upstairs to the bathroom. “But I’m not sitting out another shift.” You add as you lean against the sink and watch him turn on the bath water. He turns to look at you and smirks.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He says. You watch Joel add the perfect amount of soap and eucalyptus oil to clear your sinuses into the bath water. He’s meticulous, and it’s almost comical to watch such a broody man take so much care for something so small. Once the tub is full and the bathroom smells heavenly, he stands in front of you and tugs at the hem of your shirt.

“Maria’s gonna kill you if you’re late for patrol.”

“Let her wait. My girl is sick,” he says, and you smile at him as you shake your head. Carefully, like you’re made of porcelain, he undresses you and kisses your skin in quiet reverence. His beard is a little too wild and scratches at you, but you don’t care enough to make him stop. Once all your clothes are piled on the floor, he takes your hands and helps you step into the welcoming, warm water. You sigh as your muscles relax and the sweet-smelling bubbles surround you. “Better?” He asks from his spot on the closed toilet lid, and you nod. He smiles and leans down to kiss you, but you put a hand between you.

“If I’m too sick to go on patrol, I’m probably too sick to kiss you,” you say. “Wouldn’t want to give you whatever I have.”

“Oh, now that’s a concern after I’ve been taking care of you all week?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You tease. He kisses your palm and grabs your wrist to hold your hand again. He gets overly affectionate when you’re sick or hurt. Not that you’re complaining. Joel Miller is a creature of habit, and you’ve had more than enough time to understand those habits. He gently kisses your lips, tracing patterns on the back of your hand as he does. He pulls away sooner than you would’ve liked him to, but he takes the time to kiss your nose, your forehead, both your cheeks, and your hand before leaning back to look at you like you hung the moon.

“I’ll be home soon.” He says, almost reading your mind, and you nod.

“I know,” you say. A ball of anxiety creeps up your spine, and you squeeze his hand. “You come back to me in one piece, d’you hear me?”

“I hear ya.”

“Good,” you squeeze him again, and he leans down to kiss the top of your head. “I love you.”

“Even though I’m the most stubborn man you’ve ever met?” He teases, and you shove at his chest, making him laugh. “I love you, too.”

“You better go before Maria comes in here and kicks your ass to next week for being late.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

[andrewhq]

(i wanted to write a conversation g'raha would have with my wol that i might turn into a comic someday)

- G'raha enters Ziero's cabin in Tuliyollal, after some idle chatter, he pauses before speaking again. -

G'raha: You know, I realized after our conversation on the gondola, that I do not know much about... you. The current you. Most of what I know about you, I gathered from various pieces of your legacy. I don't think I've ever sat down with you and gotten to know you.

Ziero: Hah! Aw, it's very sweet that you're asking, but truly there isn't really that much to me than my legacy. Most of my life was... this.

G'raha: What do you... mean?

Ziero: Well, before I became the Warrior of Light, I was just a simple tailor, like one of my fathers also is for my tribe. And on top of that... I was a child. Even when I began adventuring. I just so happened to be in Thanalan when I ended up helping Brendt fend off his camp, and he suggested I should talk to the Adventurer's Guild because he just had this strong feeling I'd be able to help.

G'raha: Wait, wait. You were a child?

Ziero: Yes, I only turned eighteen less than two months before my tribe arrived in Thanalan!

G'raha: Like... Viera years' eighteen?

Ziero: There's no such thing! We mature about the same Hyurs, so...

G'raha: So that means you're...

Ziero: Twenty-one, now? Yeah!

G'raha: I thought you were so much older...

Ziero: I suppose constantly being at war and saving people ages you. I suppose if we're being technical about it, I'm twenty-three, given that I was close to turning twenty-one when you called me to the first, and I spent about a year there.

G'raha: That's still so... young.

Ziero: I suppose it is!

G'raha: Does it bother you? That you never really got to live your childhood until the end?

Ziero: Not really, no. Maybe if I was forced to do it, I'd mourn what I never got the chance to live, but instead I see it as living as the folklore hero people tell to impress children!

G'raha: I cannot fathom how you can stay positive so easily... Did nothing ever break you?

Ziero: Ah...

- He instinctively reaches for the eye under his eyepatch. -

Ziero: I... ought to be thankful for my parents being positive beacons in my life as well. I know it hurt them to know I was risking my life out there, and my mother never did hide the fact that she was worried for me, and neither of my fathers would let me go back adventuring until they were as certain as possible I wasn't hurt. But the three of them loved me so much, and cared for me so deeply, so I could always go to them when things were too much. But there was, ah... two times when I was completely inconsolable, I suppose.

G'raha: I do not intend to pry, so you do not have to answer, but I must ask what got you to that point?

- Ziero pauses for a long time, clenching his fists. -

Ziero: It... it was Zenos.

- G'raha's ears perk up. -

G'raha: Zenos? Did he—

Ziero: I loved him in a way that words could not describe.

- G'raha goes quiet. -

Ziero: I cannot deny the fact that we were always meant to be mirrors of each other. I always wanted to understand him, and I struggled with it for a bit, when someone just so happened to tell me his age... And I quickly realized just how similar we are. We were both children when we got roped into the war. Our differences were also our similarities. I grew up in a peaceful, loving family that was always there for me when I needed them, he grew up in a family that was disgusted with his very existence and only saw him as a weapon of war. And yet... we were both outsiders, fighting for causes that weren't our own, but we had enough motives to push through them.

G'raha: I had heard he was a cruel man...

Ziero: Funny how people say that, yet I could count on my fingers how many people Zenos actually harmed, because he never fought or killed anyone that couldn't stand a chance against him. Meanwhile, the blood on my hands is endless, from people who were much weaker than I. Is that not ironic?

G'raha: I... I suppose, when you put it that way... And yet the calamity—

Ziero: Was Fandaniel's plan. And I do not blame Zenos for following him. After being only seen as a beast, a dog that should be beat and put in a cage, do you truly think he would not resent the world? He truly thought he was being merciful, just like Meteion.

G'raha: I never thought of Meteion and Zenos as similar, and yet, based on what you told me in the past, it all makes so much sense... It's like we were being foreshadowed of her existence.

Ziero: Hah, pretty much. Still, I've made my point, so to actually answer your question: When Zenos killed himself, it ruined me. Not only did I feel like I failed him, but I felt like I failed myself as well. We had secretly spent a lot together, because I so desperately wanted to get to know him, to understand him. And he'd always let me in, sometimes with the promise of a spar, sometimes... because we were both lonely. I was such a mess in love, and there was that air of forbidden romance like in stories I'd hear around Kugane. Since my tribe decided to follow me to Othard, I'd never miss a chance to go speak with my parents and tell them all about this wild romance I was having. Truly, I felt the most like a hero back then. And yet when I lost Zenos, it crushed me beyond words. I cried for days in my mother's lap and did not speak to anyone else. I had to keep strong and let the Ala Mihgans celebrate their victories. I almost began to resent Lyse for being so... content with his death, but it was just misplaced grief.

G'raha: I can certainly empathize with that... Then, was the second time still Zenos, I assume?

Ziero: Yup. Though the second time was... a little bit different. I realize now, in retrospect, that I could have just denied him that fight, and he'd have to keep living. Yet I was so... selfish. I held on to that last bit of grief for him and ended up taking it out on the exact person I was grieving. I was angry when I found out he was still alive, it felt like everything he did was to mock me, but... No, it never was.

G'raha: I'm sorry... You must miss him greatly, then.

Ziero: Well, about that— I didn't actually... let him go... I hold his soul, you see. And I can always channel him as my avatar.

G'raha: You what?!

Ziero: Hahah, oops!

G'raha: Why didn't you tell anyone!

Ziero: I didn't want to put anyone in a panic, given how many people despise him. Plus, it'd be insane to explain either way. Zero knows, though. It was because of her that I managed to figure out how to make him my avatar, and she certainly got some enjoyment knowing how he would feel being bound to someone like that. And now you know too.

G'raha: I'm starting to become less surprised that you are as young as you claim to be.

Ziero: I'm not lying! I never even learned how to read!

G'raha: YOU NEVER LEARNED WHAT?!?!

[everythingdenied]

Hello! Love ur blog! Lil blurb idea - cos I’m in a similar situation - Ross helping his gf prepare for her “normal” job doing a big pitch to get a client and she’s all nervous….

hihihi bff <3 i hope whatever's going on work wise goes super well for u!!! good luck bb and endlessly proud no matter what!!! anyway's ross would literally be the cutest in this situation he is so domestic bf this is perfect!!

"Shit, Ross. I don't think I can do this" I huffed as I tripped over my words once again, frustratedly throwing the stack of papers in my hand onto the coffee table. "I think I'm just gonna call in sick or something."

From his cosy spot on the sofa, Ross shook his head, watching me with a look of concern as I anxiously paced around the living room, checking the time on my phone once more.

"No, no, no. Don't be silly. You're doing great. C'mon, you've got like...ten minutes. Just start from the beginning again, yeah?"

Ever the optimist, Ross shot me an encouraging smile, gingerly picking the papers up from the table and holding them out to me. However, I didn't so much as move, nervously chewing my bottom lip as I stared at the thick wad of paper in his hand as if they were a threat to me. "I-" My vision became blurred as I felt the familiar sting of tears tears pricking my eyes, my arms falling to my side limply. "Fuck. I can't..."

A sob wracked my body as I stood dumbly in the middle of the room, feeling my heart thump against my chest at the very prospect of today's big pitch. Taking instant notice of my upset, Ross quickly discarded the paper, brows knitting together empathetically.

"Oh, love" He crooned sweetly, invitingly holding his arms out to me. "C'mere, you..."

Without wasting so much as a second, I crawled into his embrace, settling my self on his lap as I burrowed my head into his cable-knit jumper, the familiar scent of his detergent providing me some solace. He engulfed me in a tight hug, being extra careful not to crease the blouse I'd spent so long picking out earlier this morning as I sobbed into his chest, my tears dampening his sweater.

"S-sorry..." I whimpered apologetically, voice slightly muffled. "Know I'm being stupid. It's j-just a pitch but..."

"Hey, shh." Ross cut me off, pressing a saccharine kiss to my forehead as his hand rubbed my bag comfortingly, swaddling me in his big arms like a baby. "Don't say that. Course you're not being stupid. This is a really big day for your career. S'completely fine to be scared."

My lip wobbled as I gazed up at my boyfriend through bleary eyes, wondering exactly what good deed I'd done in a past life to deserve the man before me. He smiled softly, delicately trailing the pads of his fingers up and down my spine.

"Sayin' that though; it's not worth getting yourself all worked up for, lovey. S'pecially when I know for a fact you're gonna smash it." He continued.

"But what if I...what if I completely fuck it up?" I sniffled.

Ross shook his head, dismissing such a notion as I curled up on his lap, wiping my eyes with the back of my sleeve.

"Babe...I've seen how hard you work. Have to practically drag you away from that bloody laptop of yours most nights." He scolded playfully as he pressed his finger to the tip of my nose, drawing a half hearted chuckle from my lips. "You're not gonna fuck it up. I promise."

"A-are you sure?"

Ross nodded his head confidently, tilting my head upwards to tenderly kiss the salty tears beading my lips.

"I'm sure" He hummed. "You're gonna walk in there, looking all sexy and business-y in your suit, and you're gonna blow their fuckin' socks off. Pinky promise."

He held his pinky finger out to me, which was comically larger than my own, and wrapped it around mine, unable to hide the smile creeping onto his face as I let out a soft giggle, sniffing back the last of my tears.

"There' we go. There's that gorgeous smile." Ross chuckled teasingly, giving me one last peck as he tapped my hip. "Now Let's get you all cleaned up and then I'll drive you to work, yeah? Even stop at starbucks on the way if you want. Sound like a plan?"

[quillsmora]

so about that ship...

i'm only going to talk about this once. this isn't a post trying to call out the shippers, get anyone "canceled", stop people from shipping them entirely, any of that –– this is just a post about my own personal opinions on the p/n ship. i've been asked about it a few times on here and on twitter so i'm just going to make this one long post about it and not speak on it ever again, because i'm not trying to start any drama or fan wars or whatever.

my main issue with peter/nebula has nothing to do with my own personal headcanons or that it "gets in the way" of my own personal ship, it's that it disregards nebula's character arc throughout the first two movies and turns her into a replacement for gamora again. nebula spent her entire time growing up being constantly reminded that she is "lesser" than gamora and feeling a deep jealousy towards her, as well as a longing for just a regular sister relationship. over the course of vol 1 and 2 we see her resentment towards gamora come to a head before she gives in and admits that all she ever wanted was for gamora to be that sister for her. for nebula to be paired with a man who loved gamora first, who still loves that gamora he lost, feels like a regression of nebula's character growth as it subjects her to living in gamora's shadow yet again.

and let's be honest, peter will always see nebula as gamora's sister. that's all he really knew her as for at least four years. we can assume almost everything he knows about her past, her interests, her life in general before/during infinity war was told to him by gamora, he got gamora's side of every story first. the thing that bonds peter and nebula together is their grief over gamora, it can be argued by what we saw in vol 3 that they were the ones most affected by her death (and groot, who according to a comment james made on instagram, saw gamora as his mother). any romantic relationship between peter and nebula would just naturally feel like nebula is being used as a replacement for gamora.

which also disrespects peter's character growth as well. the peter we first meet in vol 1 is a hotheaded, arrogant, womanizer (i mean this affectionately). he is a grown man who lacks maturity due to trauma and his refusal to acknowledge his trauma. through his relationship with the guardians, and gamora especially, he's able to deal with his past and begin to heal. gamora was one of if not the most important person in his life by the time we see him again in infinity war. we see how losing her absolutely wrecks him, it's the final straw that breaks his spirit and leads to where he's at at the beginning of vol 3. for him to subconsciously replace gamora with her sister is not in line with the character we see at the end of vol 3, the man who's finally willing to face his biggest loss and childhood trauma by reuniting with his grandfather. it's far more in line with the peter we meet at the beginning of vol 1, and peter has not been that man in a very, very long time.

there are a few other points i believe could be made as to why peter/nebula gives me, for lack of a better word, the ick. and as a white woman i don't believe it's my place to comment on the treatment of gamora, who is played by a woman of color (and who is portrayed as one in the one instance we see her as a human in the comics), in regards to race and fandom and shipping culture in general. i'm more than willing to hear other's thoughts on that matter, especially related to gamora's treatment not just by fans but by canon as well. but to give a short summary of my current thoughts, p/n feels disrespectful to the relationship both of them had with gamora the same way it feels disingenuous to peter and nebula's character growth.

so that's it, that's why i don't like that ship. i'm not going to get this in-depth or detailed about this ever again, unless people civilly ask me to expand on something.

i'm also not going to go into what the actors have said (outside of chris calling gamora the love of his life every chance he gets) because that's a whole separate thing that dives more into ways p and n's interactions can be interpreted by individuals.

and again, this is not me saying you shouldn't/can't ship them. i know that's not how the internet works, i've been told i shouldn't/can't ship things and it only made me ship them harder. i'm not looking for a fight or snark or anything like that, this is just my personal opinion on the matter as someone who has loved these characters for nearly a decade.

[manofmanymons]

Everyone knows I'm deranged about Digimon Survive, but here are some unhinged things I did while in other fandoms!

MHA:

Was a leader on the kiribaku amino.

Amino.

Amino.

Let that sink in just a little longer.

Participated in a secret santa event in said amino by compiling the most requested prompts by all the members and writing for all of them. Why did I do that to myself!

Hetalia because yes I was that cringe:

Opened a short story collection to requests, forgot to specify things I didn't want to write, didn't want to turn down my first request, and wrote abo smut. I think I was like 15 at that point ksjskd I cannot express strongly enough how much I do now and did then hate abo

...changed my pfp to a sfw screenshot from an nsfw comic because I thought it was funny that no one could call me on it without admitting they recognized where it was from💀 yeah I was...one of those kids 💀💀💀💀

Kingdom Hearts:

Wrote 200k words worth of fic for that fandom. For reference I've only done ~40k for Survive.

Most of it was for a rarepair that never met in canon because something is very wrong with me! A lot of rest was for pairs that have met but are still also rare because again something is very wrong with me!

I reread. The entirety of Roxas's diary from 358. Just so I could emulate his writing style for a fic.

Actually ran a gimmick account for a while! I haven't done that before or since!

Temporarily replaced my entire personality with really loving Vanitas. Kinda like how I am with Kaito rn but somehow even worse. Somethin about a fucked up black and red color scheme boy 😔😔😔

Talked about it SO MUCH irl that two of my friends literally stopped wanting to talk to me anymore cuz they were so sick of hearing about Roxas

Genshin Impact:

Wrote a joke fic for a ship I hate but accidentally took it too seriously to the point where it was not clear that it was a joke and it became my second most popular fic not on that account but of all time and I'm STILL angry about it

Wrote one of the first 5 fics to ever exist for, you guessed it, another rarepair

I...see this isn't about my behavior in the fandom necessarily but it's kinda embarrassing how feral I went over Thoma. Like,,,spent money on the game for the first time just to get a weapon that matched his outfit, built a whole ass shrine to him in my in-game home, GOT MY EARS PIERCED DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT IS, listened to nothing but his theme song for a very very very long time, bought entirely too much merch of him/him and Ayaka, refused to take him off my team no matter how useless pyro was even in floor 12 spiral abyss, and perhaps most embarrassing of all...read x reader fanfic for the first time since I was literally 11 💀 That man DID something to me y'all

Sasaki to Miyano:

Knew the manga so well that I could tell you exactly what chapter any given scene was from

Sent a different picture of Sasaki to my irls' gc every day for over 200 days

Got better at baking and learning recipes for friends as a way of expressing affection because that's what Sasaki does

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Nearly a year and a half ago now, I was able to watch the John Oliver's New York Stand-Up Show (terribly clunky title, it acronyms into JONYSUS and that's not much better, really annoying thing to have to look up if you happen to be spending ages trying find download links for it) with the use of a VPN and another person's Paramount Plus login, because I gave up on finding the files anywhere. But since then, every couple or months ago I've tried again to find them, because I fucking hate having things restricted to streaming services. Not just for the anti-corporate reasons or whatever (though those are important, I strongly object to the fact that people pay for media but all they get to do is rent temporary access to it that lasts as long as they keep paying and as long as the company decides to keep the media on its platform, and you have to watch it on their shitty video player that makes you turn off your adblocker and stalls all the time and that can't be enough value for money, even though to be fair I don't personally pay for it, just occasionally use the login of a generous friend for stuff I can't find elsewhere), but because I like being able to watch shows in a way that lets me cut out screenshots and clips so I can save and organize those into my own folders.

This week, I was finally able to find a form of the show that lets me do that. And I'm finally able to say: Remember that time when Andy Zaltzman spent years making fun of John Oliver for occasionally saying “gotten" because he was living in the United States, and then Andy got on American TV one time - they mentioned on The Bugle that this was his American TV debut - and immediately said "sports"? It's adorable, he hits the S just a touch too hard like he's trying to remind himself to say it.

(Annoyingly, Tumblr is still being difficult about letting me embed videos, so I'm just using Google Drive links instead.)

There's nothing in that short set that I haven't heard Andy do in other contexts (except, obviously, when he does that line in Britain he says "I prefer sport", not sports), but it is interesting to me to see which bits he picked out for an American showcase. Presumably his favourite bits, and what he thought was most marketable.

I wrote a post recently in which I wondered what material early OOs- era John Oliver might have picked out for a crowd that might not be in the mood for annoyingly clever and/or political material. Because I've heard most of the bits that John was doing then, spread across various contexts in little pieces, and I think he probably had just about enough to string together a relatively accessible and apolitical set for an audience that wanted it. Andy Zaltzman, however, did not. The range is one difference between Zaltzman and Oliver.

I've watched this whole 26-episode show, it's mainly American comics doing jokes about sex and drugs. And Andy decided the best he could possibly do when trying to fit in there was the child labour material. Never ever change, Andy.

This seems like a worthwhile time to issue a reminder that this isn't the first time I've been able to save and post a bit of that show. A very helpful friend (@lastweeksshirttonight) was able to grab this clip for me when I first watch it, which of course now has a treasured spot in my definitely-non-Beautiful-Mind-like Chocolate Milk Gang folder.

I thought of that clip recently when I heard this on the Elis James and John Robins radio show:

, just because I find it funny that Daniel Kitson has a lot of friends who make jokes about how much he looks like a serial killer, especially for a man who does not look all that much like a serial killer. He just has a beard. John Oliver at least would have been talking about Kitson circa 2006, when he had long-ish hair, and Daniel Kitson was probably at peak serial appearance before he cut his hair off. But still, even then, in the mid-00s when they were writing all those articles about how weird it was that this scary-looking serial killer man wrote such beautiful comedy - he was just a guy with a beard and long-ish hair. Come on, does this guy guy look like he'd hurt anyone?

Anyway, I'd better wrap up; I'm afraid, like a badly managed French restaurant, I'm running out of thyme.

[cherrysnax]

hope people chill out soon, your take was immaculate and actually the reason I followed you initially bc i am an adult who likes cartoons and little kid shows but also doesn't get in internet fights about them and thinks adults who do are... wild, for lack of a better term..

but!!! now I wanna know about your comic (???maybe its a comic not sure) that you've mentioned, I couldn't find a tag to search but do you mind sharing about it? tysm either way have a good one

hi nonnie!! first of all ty for the well wishes and compliments! i'm sure once all the jokes and the offense die down, people will be relatively normal again... i hope.. lets get into the meat of the ask under the cut

EDIT: this got long so if u just want the basic gist, go to the very end!

soooo my girlfriend @pokemonleague and i decided back in...2018? to make spidersonas due to our love of comics and the movie into the spiderverse, but since we're nerds that totally span out of control. it went from a fan rp with several spider-man themed characters to a completely original concept with new characters, our own setting, power system-- the works. it is about superheroes, so it might not be your thing. okay so first backstory stuff

it used to be called the phillyverse and if u go into the tag u might find some old art, but its all extremely outdated (and bad. im not the bessst artist). after some delegation we decided to start making it a comic (we spent YEARS debating it) and named the project around last year. its uh called Show Your Spine!

I'm the worst at describing things but we have like 3 whole seasons entirely plotted out so I can pull somethin like a pitch together: while the vigilantism is a core aspect, with the main overarching plot being a group of unlikely heroes, old and new banding together to stop their city from being overrun by the mob, supervillains, and other threats. it's really about finding love and community in a city at war and finding the strength to protect and nourish it. all the while unlearning all the shit the last generations have taught us, to stop us from perpetuating the cycle of hate... while also beating the shit outta some baddies

in short its abt cringe-fail women doing cringe-fail things lmaoo. its a like a superhero-action-soap opera taking place in the retro-futuristic city of Chesire Grove, new jersey.

in this world, there's people with powers called Augments, who are just like you and me but due to changes in their DNA due were born with the ability to manifest different abilities (think mutants or metahumans). the tension between augments and humans is a little.. high right now, but allegedly better than they've ever been before. It's a newish era of human-augment relations, for better or worse.

we have an ensemble cast, and we intend on taking the main characters from the ages of 16 to eventually 25. the characters are aging in real-time.

OKAY PLOT TIME: The first few arcs focus on a delinquent teenage girl, Leo, trying to find a cure for one of her best friends who has fallen ill after trying a new drug, by all means necessary. during her quest for it, she meets the elusive newer vigilante Spitfire, who had saved her once before. Despite a rocky start, the two start a mentor-mentee type thing, in hope that the other can help them find what they're looking for. For Leo, she's looking for info on the man who made the drug that's been killing people, desperate to make him reverse engineer it. For Spitfire, they're looking for Chesire Grove's longest-running protector: Nightingale, who has suddenly gone missing. Spitfire's a bit new in town but lucky for them, the kid knows the city like the back of their hand.

At the same time, a sheltered augment teen's life is changing, as her overly protective father has finally realized that keeping her inside wasn't protecting her at all. freshly enrolled in a school for STEM students, Bobbi (also known by his nickname Retro) has to learn how to navigate the world for the first time and solve the full mystery of her past, all while her powers are on the fritz.

there's so much to this world, and we're so excited to share it with everyone!! i tried to be pretty vague cause of spoilers, and like i said, bad with words

[dogearedheart]

i’ll be here waiting patiently to read whatever you write. i know it’ll be absolutely beautiful when it comes out, whether it be the joxcassie, the yuri fic, or we met at the end of eden.

if you’d like to share some snippets sometime, or if you’re feeling brave to share a snippet for a snippet, i’d be up for that. :)

in any case, if you don’t mind me popping in every now and again, we can be writing buddies (or not, no worries).

- 🐉

you are way too kind, dude! thanks for all your kind words and your support, it means a lot. I'm not like the biggest blog so hearing that people do like the things i create, it's always a bit surreal

I have to admit that I haven't written anything in weeks and I kinda feel like it's... not that good? but I'll leave a snippet under the cut if you still want to read it (and i am always down for other people's writing so you can always share stuff yourself :) )

i don't mind you popping in at all! it's actually quite nice to talk to people as long it's something you want to do, of course.

It's from the prologue of 'we met at the end of eden' :) it's not edited yet so please ignore possible mistakes

Sam is only five when he starts asking questions, about the mom he never met and the home he never had. Dean tries his hardest to keep him out of it, but there is only so much he can do. He tries to keep him busy and lets him watch TV and read the comic books he stole from a kid at school when he wasn't looking. Sam is eleven when Dean sees the wonder in his brother's eyes fade away and be replaced by something he's seen enough in the mirror by now. Dean tells him to stay at the motel and does his best to pretend it's their home, but it's difficult when you never stay long in a city you've never been to. Sam is too young, only eleven, Dean thinks. And he's failed him already. Sam is fourteen when Dean realizes his snot-nosed little brother is dealing with everything way better than he is. He is a smart kid, stubborn and sure. He's gonna go far, that's for sure. Sam is seventeen when Dean sees his brother slipping away from him. Sam is nineteen when he leaves Dean behind.

It's one of the worst nights of Dean's life, he're only 23.

A selfish part of Dean hates Sam for leaving. One man's freedom turns into another man's cage. And Sam's freedom had wrapped around Dean's throat, waiting for him to hang himself with it.

Dean wakes to the dull sound of rain hitting the metal of his car. The windows of the impala are fogged up, and Dean can see his own breath in the faint light of the moon above him in the cloudless sky. A quick look at his watch tells him it's too early, even for him. He clutches at his jacket, wrapping it tightly around his upper body. The leather smells like cold cigarettes and beer - the remains of a night spent, like so many others, at some random bar, trying to earn some money. The last few months have been one of the loneliest months of his life, but after another and another— you get numb to the feeling, and the pit in your stomach becomes something you ignore.

He sits up, trying to stretch his heavy bones, but there is only so much space in his car and he isn't willing to go outside. He kind of regrets ditching the idea of finding a motel room now, but he's sick of dirty beds and paying too much for a room that isn't his own. And with the leather of his father's jacket above and the leather of the backseat of his car beneath him - it's the closest he's ever felt to having a home.

[hellbcy]

@spkyscry:

This is what you get for testing your luck, Ash. Not sure what I expected but, damn, they really don't joke around when they collect in Vegas, do they? Wanting a vacation of some sort from the monsters and deadites had led him to all the lights and sounds of Vegas. Any other day, it might have even worked in distracting the man from the years of horrors on his back for a time. Might've even pulled off getting some funds back into his wallet if he'd played his cards right. Hard to nail down a job when you're the 'Chosen One' and all that gold hiding in his back pocket'll dry up eventually. But of course it wasn't gonna be that simple, was it? Never is. A soft tsk of annoyance as he pulled duffel bag from car at the first sign of trouble-- right to, too. Just as he'd taken off metallic hand back in the casino; did the first thing scream "chosen one", only to have it's head blown clean off with a boom from the modified shotgun. A twirl, eyes narrowing at the sound of gunfire in the distance. Either someone else was giving these rot-breaths what for or they're done tryin' to be cute with it. Butt of gun smacked to another as stump slid into duffel bag; the click of mechanism locking the other prosthetic in place. Watching as something burst through a wall, not of it's own volition given how it scrambled about before honing in on him. "Should cashed out when ya had the chance, buddy." Came with the boom of both barrels, taking the time to let spent shells fall before they were promptly replaced. Teeth grabbed the wire, tugging it as chainsaw revved to life where his other hand once was. If they wanted a piece of him again, well, they were gonna get it. Gaze turned up from the gooey remains, stopping on the hulking red man across the rubble.

". . . Ya gotta be shittin' me." was echoed back, looking at what was for all intents and purposes a comic book character standing in a swarm of deadites. Ash shouldn't even be surprised at this point, frankly, with how much shit's happened to him. Even still, this was up there with the shit he's had to accept as real. Shotgun rested on his shoulder, blasting the deadite's chest that had been creeping up behind him to smithereens; followed by a spin that took the head clean off before he approached. "Please tell me you're playin' for the home team with that kinda whammer, big guy."

They really hadn't taken any creative liberties, did they?

He'd known the man himself existed, of course, that much wasn't withheld from him- but he'd never expected the buzzing power tool adorning his stump was anything more than coverup team having fun with their job... not that he was one to judge, obviously.

As per usual in his line of work, though, reality proved ever stranger than fiction could ever hope to be. Lucky day in Vegas.

"Raised here same as you, pal." The cambion answers, catching a lunging deadite with the aforementioned 'whammer' without looking as he did so, holding it's barking maw long enough to plant two gunshots in it's dome and shoving it tumbling backwards.

"I'm guessing these friends of yours aren't here by your invite." He says, turning towards the encroaching hoard. "Which can only mean some other asshole here decided to bet the Earth and lost."

Eyeing past the cackling undead, he spots an elevator they seemed especially crowded around... not hesitating an instant before slamming his stone right hand into a nearby slot machine and tossing it forwards, crashing metal splattering a path through the horde with a mess of gore and coins.

"And I'm gonna find out who." He said, starting a dash towards the elevator without waiting up at all for the other... albeit, doing a great job of further clearing the way forwards for him as he shouldered his way through what remained, should he follow.