#maybe they'll sell me on it if it happens

[hedonistbyheart]

People seem to think that one of the changes they'll add to the FFVII Remake triptych is that Vincent will be Sephiroth's father instead of Hojo and I refuse to accept it. I'm going to utterly deny any hint at the possibility until they force me to accept it. I hate it.

I LIKE that Sephiroth's conception is not a product of love, I like that his parents are both hyper intelligent and utterly horrific people. I like the idea that he is a child with so much potential, but the fact that his parents did monstrous things, without literally being monsters, corrupted him.

If Vincent is his father you get more of a tragic lovers scenario, but it muddles how Sephiroth ended up being the genesis (excuse the pun) of everything. Lucrecia's motivations are already fucked, but if Sephiroth is a lovechild, Hojo would have to have stolen him I suppose. It's a possibility, but I still prefer the og explanation. I prefer it because it's fucked up, to be clear.

I also like the idea of Vincent feeling responsible for Sephiroth because he was in love with Lucrecia, rather than because Sephiroth is his actual child. There's something very gothic about feeling guilty about the child of the woman you pined after, but never actually had, and the irony of the man who contains monsters being more human than the one who did father the godlike child.

[musical-chick-13]

If I'm not careful, I'm going to get salty about stupid music opinions again.

[luwha]

LMAO so, recently someone tried to SCAM me, so i'll show you what happened and the telltales of it being a scam.

This one is quite obvious but i know people who are just starting their artist careers and might not have experiece.

Follow the thread:

🚩#1: They pick your most famous/Popular art as reference. They don't know what you actually sell.

🚩#2: They will pick a random popular character. They're not roleplayers or anything. They're not here for the art in any level

You ask me, what are the odds they really like Goku? Oh, well, you'll see. At this point i check their profile for anythign that might indicate it, but as you'll see you won't have to.

🚩#3: They say they saw my ToS. On it i state i only work with paypal and google forms.

🚩#4: Random issue with payment method. They might have a real problem with it, but see; they'll never ever accept any other payment method, such as Zelle, CashApp, Payoneer, Ko-fi, etc.

I already knew this drill so, let's continue.

🚩#5: I love playing dumb lmao. Anyway, this scam revolves on them either sending you "too much money" and asking it back or something like it. I won't be following through because i know it'll be annoying.

BE ADAMANT WITH YOUR METHODS. Do NOT EVER bend them for randos.

🚩#6: They're so ready with the info on how the payment works it's fucking funny.

The reason I PERSONALLY use PayPal INVOICES (no any other payment within paypal) is that they're safe for both me and my client. My rules are stated clearly.

MAKE A ToS I BEG YOU YOUNG ARTIST

🚩#7: They're not even a good scammer lmao they REFUSE to go on my PROFILE to get a link or read anything.

I use Forms because it collects the client requests and it's easier for me to read it all in one place. It ALSO makes scammers bored.

🚩#8: They're so disinterested on the art they don't care for posing, vibes, colors, nothing. Again, they're NOT here for art. That's hilarious.

🚩#8: Same as above. They don't care for posing or anything.

On my art they link me, i have a vampire almost staking himself in a state of euphoria.

IMAGINE VAMPIRE GOKU STAKING HIMSELF THAT'S SO FUCKIGN FUNNY MY BRO, THINK YOUR SCAM THROUGH MAYBE

🚩#9: They will price your own work for you. And they'll overshot what we, smaller artists, charge for it.

They'll overshot by a lot.

They want you to be impressed and showing "generosity" usually gets people who need monay into risky situations. That's just plain cruel.

🚩#9: Same as above. Over generosity and eagerness to pay.

They're not even with the sketch, this haven't been an hour, they don't have any work form me but OH GOD they're SO READY to pay you NEED TO KNOW they WANTS TO PAY YOU SO BAD

Lmao yeah it's working out ❤️

THIS ONE IS JUST HILARIOUS BRO I CAN'T EVEN.

ANYWAY let's continue

🚩#10: They don't know me. They don't follow me. They broke every rule on my ToS. They're making me go through a payment method i am unfamiliar and don't use.

They don't care for my process. They're not interested on my sketch.

BE. ADAMANT. ABOUT. YOUR. RULES. AND. PROCESS.

Now, for the beautiful closure of this:

Have a ToS. Don't bend the rules for randos.

Use Invoices. Be sure you're safe.

Use forms if you'd like. Requests through DM and Discord ARE COMMON FOR OTHER ARTISTS. I personally don't like it, i have ADHD.

Being an artist on an online space is dangerous. If you need help, poke an artist you know, see how they operate and if it fits you. Most of them would help you.

🚩#11: goku isn't even on their icon 😭

This is the account that tried to scam me.

#art is life ❤️

[rin-may-1103]

The Eyes of Death. Pt 3.

Previous | Master Post | Next(to be written)

Danny groaned, the sound of a heart monitor grating on his ears like nails on a chalkboard.

"Danny," someone called, sounding concerned.

Cracking open one of his eyes, Danny tilted his head and glanced at the person. It was Damian, sitting on a very uncomfortable-looking chair. His hair was disheveled, and he had light eyebags.

"Dami?" Danny asked, his voice weak and gruff for some reason.

That's when it hit him, the memories; Nacy and Wyatt trying to drag him to a party, cultists mobbing them on the streets, voluntering to be the sacrifice because he couldn't let anyone else get hurt even if it was Wyatt, the ritual working (although not how it probably should have), gaslighting the bat crew with one of the worst concussions he's ever had to deal with.

Damian leaned forward, stopping him from trying to sit up, "hey, hey!" he quickly cut in, "it's ok, you're at the hospital. Don't strain yourself. You were stabbed; you shouldn't aggravate your wound even if it's not likely to open again. The bats showed up, no one died."

Danny blinked, then huffed in annoyance. Sure, his body felt like it was on fire, but that wasn't too worrying. probably even normal after whatever that ritual was. It should be fine for him to sit up, but if it'll make Dami happy, then fine. He'll just tilt the bed up then.

Glancing around the bed and grabbing the remote (with his left arm, which was bandaged for some reason), Danny moved the bed until he was comfortably sitting up. Damian sat down with a sigh, shaking his head.

They sat silently for a moment before Danny turned to look at Damian with a frown.

"I dropped your jacket."

Damian stared at him for a moment before pinching his nose and closing his eyes.

"And my textbooks," Danny added, absently picking at the blanket.

He'd have to see if anyone was nice enough to bring his stuff to the cops. The cultists had just left it out in the streets, so Damian's jacket is probably long gone.

With the textbooks, though, there was a 5% chance someone actually dropped them off at the school or with the police (though the likelihood of them being returned to him was very, very low). 30% chance of another college student taking them for themselves, and 65% chance of someone picking them up and selling them off to some other college students for a quick couple of bucks or a few hundred.

Gotham was known for all the crime and stuff, but it was surprisingly nice for college students. (probably because literally almost all the rouges had college degrees. probably a smart idea to be nice to the potential new rouges, maybe they'll spare you in the future! or something like that.)

The point is, Danny's probably not going to see his textbooks anytime soon. So, he'll have to try and find new ones or rent them from the school.

"You were just kidnapped and used in a ritual to summon some demonic demon ghost king, and you're worried about your textbooks?" Damian asked, finally opening his eyes and looking at Danny.

"First of all," Danny started, pointing one of his fingers at Damian, "those were expensive; it took me months to save up for all of them. Second," Danny waved his arm in the air to gesture around the room, "I'm here, alive, and you said the bats got them, so no point in worrying about what happened."

Damian opened his mouth to cut in, but Danny continued, "And C, did they find my bag? I kind of really don't want to have to restart all of my homework again."

Damian sighed in defeat, resting his head on his hands as he leaned forward. "Danny," he breathed, his voice sounding pained, "you almost died. How can you just brush that off?"

Danny studied his boyfriend for a moment, actually taking in what he saw; his shoulders were tense, and he looked like a mess. His hair wasn't styled, instead, it was obvious he had been running his hands through it. His button-up shirt wasn't tucked in and was wrinkled in places, like he had collapsed into the chair and stayed like that for hours.

"It's not the first time," Danny admitted.

Damian's head shot up, his eyes wide as he stared at Danny. Glancing away, Danny continued, "My parents were... they loved us, they really did."

Damian didn't move, didn't even breath. Like if he moved even a single muscle, Danny would stop talking and run away. He was probably right, this was the first time Danny had ever spoken about them. He'd usually nervously brush off any questions and avoided the topic like the plague.

"But they probably shouldn't have ever been allowed to care for children." Danny loved his parents, and he knew they loved him. But there was no denying that jazz and he would have been better off raised somewhere else. "Mom's an experimental chemist. freelance. works on her own terms; said rules held back scientific potential."

The curtains were drawn, but sunlight still lit up the room. How long was he out? It couldn't have been longer than a few hours, considering Damian's eyebags, he probably pulled an all-nighter.

"The first time I died was a month after being born. She had been working all through her pregnancy, ignoring all the safety procedures. I was born with weak lungs, and my immune system was practically nonexistent." his parents hadn't taken the nurses seriously and brought him home, let Jazz play with him. It wasn't Jazz's fault that she had caught the cold and given it to him.

"They brought me back, but the doctors said I wouldn't make it long. My parents didn't worry too much. Dad claimed all Fentons were born a little weak. said I'd grow out of it." had even pulled out all the baby pictures from his family to show him, though Danny obviously didn't remember any of this. He'd seen the pictures again, after cleaning the house and snooping out of boredom.

"There were a few more close calls; honestly, CPS should have stepped in at this point, let alone the first time. Then there was the Accident." Funny how he hadn't been afraid of the risks, not afraid of death even when he stared it in the face. How could he? When he had known it his whole life.

"My parents had brilliant minds, inventing and creating all these amazing things. They'd been working on this project ever since they met in college. Only putting it down to explore other things that caught their attention, but always going back to it."

"They were obsessed."

Danny finally turned and looked back at Damian, watching as he clasped his hands together, his knuckles turning white.

"obsessed with proving they were right. You see, they'd always believed ghosts were real." Danny rolled his eyes, glancing down and picking at his nails. "They'd been ridiculed by others for this belief, so they had set out to prove it. To prove to the world that they weren't just wasting their time. So they built a portal. After hundreds of research papers, thousands of tests of concept, and twenty years of calculations and engineering. They had finished it."

"But it didn't work." Danny didn't glance up, but stopped picking his nails and instead focused on studying the blanket.

"They had been working on this thing my whole life; they had even locked themselves down in the basement and skipped my birthday party just to finish it. All just to find out it didn't work. They had been so disappointed, so frustrated at it and themselves, they had dropped everything and walked out the door."

He might not fear death, but Ancients did he hate remembering it.

"I was upset and frustrated. I hadn't seen my parents in weeks, and then this stupid thing they had been so focused on didn't even work. I wanted nothing more than to lock that door and never look at it again. Maybe my parents would give up and actually spend time with us, their living, breathing kids."

"My friends had a different idea. I had been complaining to them for months about how busy my parent were and they wanted to see exactly what they'd been working on. So, against my better judgment, we went down into the basement."

Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he had stood his ground, if he hadn't let his friends push him down those stairs.

"It was just supposed to be a quick look around, but Sam wanted a picture inside the portal. Said it would be so cool. She even went so far as to march over to get inside before I stopped her. I'd been in the basement plenty of times to know how dangerous my parents' work could be, especially when you're not being careful."

He could still remember how she had rolled her eyes, how Tucker had snorted and continued looking around. how neither of them had been careful of where they stepped.

"I suggested I be the one to go in, since she wasn't going to leave without at least something. She agreed, so I put on one of the spare protective suits just as a precaution and stepped inside. It was unnaturally silent and went farther than what my parents had been permitted to dig."

He still wasn't sure if the neighbors knew his parents had blocked off some of their basement as well or if they just assumed it had always been that small.

"I went about halfway back and turned to let Sam take her picture. She did, but said she wanted one further back. So I turned and continued walking, until my other friend Tucker shouted in surprise. it startled me and I tripped, catching myself on the wall to try and stop from face planting. I hit a button."

"My parents are geniuses, some of the smartest people I know. But they could get distracted, forgetting stuff they had just done or needed to do. There's no question where I got my Adhd from." Danny laughed, it sounded more like a huff, but he didn't care.

"They'd put an on button on the inside and completely forgot about it. It's not even in the blueprints, I checked." Danny grimaced, fiddling with his fingers, twisting them until they started to hurt and then letting go, just to do it again.

"They'd forgotten to unplug it; they had left it just waiting to be turned on. And I had pressed the button." Danny stared at his left hand, his death scar still visible after all these years. "Humans aren't supposed to survive that much electricity, let alone have a portal to a different dimension open right on top of them."

Humming, Danny glanced back at the window, frowning when he still couldn't tell what time it was. "You know the funny part?" he asked, still looking out the window. "They didn't even notice that I had died and rushed to the hospital. Too focused on the fact that their life's work had actually turned on. That they had proven the world wrong."

"I was in the hospital for weeks, the only ones visiting me were my friends and sister. No one knew how I survived." Danny turned and looked at Damian, a small smile on his face. "There have been more close calls after the accident, too many to count, really. But the point, Damian, is that at some point I had to get used to the fact that I could die. I've known death my whole life, and at this point I can accept it or break, and I've chosen to accept it and move on."

Damian stared at him, his eyes shiny as he closed them, "Alright."

"ok," he continued.

"ok," Danny echoed.

They sat in silence for a moment, befor someone knocked on the door. It swung open before either of them could respond, a familiar head of black hair coming into view.

"Hey, Dami, I got some coffee. I wasn't sure if you wanted anything to eat, but I grabbed some snacks just in case. How's-" Dick finally looked up, his eyes first landing on Damian who had silent tears running down his face and then over to Danny who was squinting at the sudden brightness.

"Oh, you're awake! How are you feeling? Any pain? Has a nurse been by yet?" Dick quickly recovered, smiling at Danny and shutting the door as he made his way to sit next to Damian.

Damian sat up like someone had dumped cold water down his back, turning his head to face Danny with intense worry. "I completely forgot to ask, are you ok? Don't lie, we can get a nurse to give you something for the pain."

Danny rolled his eyes. "I don't need more pain meds. What I need to know is what time it is. And if someone found my bag."

Dick blinked, lifting his eyebrow as he glanced at his watch, "it's nine in the morning. You've been out for ten hours."

"And your bag is right here," Damian added, lifting the mentioned bag up and then putting it back.

"Alright, cool. Now, when can I get out of here?" Danny asked, glaring at the IV on the back of his hand.

"I wouldn't recommend anytime soon, we still don't know what exactly happened to your wounds, and some of the bats want to talk to you about what happened." Dick cut in, raising his hands like he wanted calm danny down.

Danny frowned at him, rolling his eyes went he man only shrugged.

"Fine," Danny huffed, "I'll answer their questions, but that's it. I'm not staying after that."

"Danny," Damian tried, "I really don't think-"

"I was kidnapped and used in a ritual, somehow healed, have been sleeping for the past ten hours, and now I have to deal with a bat interrogation. I'm leaving. The only reason I haven't left yet is because you were obviously worried about me."

"I," Damian hesitated, sharing a glance with his brother before just nodding his head, "Ok. We'll leave, but I'd really prefer it if you stayed with someone. Just so we can make sure nothing went wrong with the healing."

Danny frowned again. Damian had been very non-confrontational this whole time. It was very unlike him. Usually, they'd have argued about five different things by now, yet he hasn't opposed Danny at all, not even about his textbooks (though he still made a comment on them). It was weird, but maybe not that weird. Danny had just died after all. Even if they didn't think he did, he'd still been stabbed on live video. Maybe Damian just needed some time. Yeah, that's probably it.

"I'll let them know your awake," Dick muttered, standing up and passing Damian the things he'd brought in.

~

Dick glanced at Danny before sending a sharp glance at Damian's phone.

nodding his head, Damian sipped his coffee and set it aside. making sure his boyfriends was distracted, he entered his password. Danny watched as Dick walked out and into the hallway, the door left open just enough to brighten the room. his boyfriends continued watching, obviously straining his ears to try and hear dick's conversation, just like he knew he would.

Tim: Still can't find anything on the ghost king. Dark is still offline. Barbera: The Cult leader's name is Gregory Johnson; he's been missing for over a year now. Only lead beforehand was some cryptic emails and some books on the afetrlife. Stephane: checked out their hideout, it looks like this was Johnson's first time running a ritual without a higher members guidance. they've done this ritual thirty seven times at this point, if the calader is accurate. Human sacrifices started a week after Johnson's joining. Jason: So the cult had been relatively harmless before he joined? Stephane: Looks like it. I'll have Duke go back and double-check, but I'm pretty sure he's the instigator. Tim: So what's different this time? Why did the ritual work? Damian: Because they actually had someone who checked all the boxes. Tim: is he awake? we still need to get his statement. Stephane: what boxes? Damian: Based on the other victims' statements, we know they had been looking for someone specific. A male with black hair, pale skin, who has encountered death multiple times in his life. Damian: We can infer that the cult had been choosing people based on their appearances, but they had no way of knowing if they had encountered death before. Danny has, therefore, the ritual worked. Stephane: well, shit. that sucks. Barbera: When has he encountered death? There's nothing mentioned in his medical file. An encounter with death would imply that he was close to dying, not just close calls.

Damian glanced up, then back at his phone. Danny had just told him he'd been to the hospital multiple times. His accident should be listed, let alone his hospitalisation soon after birth. Danny wouldn't lie about something like this.

Damian: Then the files were wrong, Danny had to be hospitalized multiple times. One of which he ended up staying for weeks on end. Barbera: the only way the files are wrong is if someone hacked into them and changed them. and since there's no evidence from what I can see, it's unlikely they've been hacked. Tim: yeah, why would someone even hack his file anyways? just to hide the fact he's been hospitalized? Damian: I don't know, they're just wrong. Barbera: Are you sure Danny wasn't just lying?

Damian glared down at his phone. He couldn't get mad at them; they're just doing what they've been taught. But Damian knows Danny, he wouldn't lie about something like this. he just wouldn't. Sure, he'd tell white lies about things, but never anything important.

"Damian?" Danny asked, drawing Damian's attention. Glancing up, he found his boyfriend watching him with worry. "Are you ok, you seem upset," he asked, his eyes tracing something Damian couldn't see. It's something Danny's done for as long as Damian has known him. He'd watch the air around people, like he could just see something they couldn't. Like if he watched long enough, something would happen.

Danny's eyes trailed slightly to the left, then up over his head and down again, subconsciously following something even he couldn't explain.

"I'm fine, just arguing with my siblings," Damian replied, shoving his phone back into his pocket so he could focus on Danny. He wasn't Robin right now, he was Damian, and his boyfriend needed him.

"Oh," Danny blinked, his eyes flashing green again just like they had earlier. Damian frowned, trying to figure out what caused it. they had flashed green when he mentioned his parents, and then green again when they tried to convince him to stay after Father's questions.

The door swung open before he could question it, his father's silent figure marching in, followed by Tim's.

Danny blinked at them, before gesturing at the chairs next to Damian, "Sure, barge right in without knocking. Just make yourselves at home, why don't cha?"

Despite everything, Damian couldn't help but smile. It was just like him to not be bothered by his father, to the point of giving disparaging remarks right to his face.

Next (to be written)

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐮 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 !

— pairing; jing yuan x reader (ft. jingliu)

— summary; in which jing yuan has a crush and jingliu tries to help

— notes; this is my very first honkai fic so please don't be mean or i will cry. please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ Jingliu is not blind.

❋ As sharp as her sword, Jingliu immediately notices the way Jing Yuan looks at you — sickeningly sweet, like a love-struck puppy. How he straightens up when you walk into a room, his subtle efforts to impress you during training ... It’s painfully obvious that her young disciple is nursing a crush.

❋ And to her surprise, she doesn’t disapprove. You're a noble, which means you come from good stock. You may not be a warrior, but you have elegance, poise, and kindness — things that Jing Yuan, with his quick wit and charisma, would pair with beautifully.

❋ And unlike some of the other aristocrats Jingliu has dealt with, you're neither arrogant nor insufferable. You're quite pleasant to be around. She decides — fine. You meet her standards. She approves.

❋ The problem, therein, lies with her boy.

❋ Jing Yuan is utterly useless. For someone with boundless talent in swordsmanship and strategy, he’s completely inadequate regarding matters of the heart. He’s reduced to nothing but a dreamy, lovesick fool the moment you walk into a room. His relationship with you (if it can even be called that) consists of stolen glances, lingering stares, and tongue-tied silence.

❋ Pathetic. 

❋ So, Jingliu — not a woman of romance but very much a woman of action — decides to take matters into her own hands.

❋ Whenever you visit, she makes sure to sing praises about Jing Yuan, with all the grace of a bull in a China shop.

“Jing Yuan, my beloved disciple! He is truly remarkable. Such skill, such intelligence — ah, and he’s only going to get stronger! The most promising of his generation!” “Truly, he is the beauty of the Xianzhou. Have you ever seen such radiant hair? Such impeccable form? Such effortless grace?” “He’s also intelligent, responsible, and — Aiya, Jing Yuan, don’t just stand there! Smile at them, you fool!”

❋ Jing Yuan wants to die.

❋ Every time Jingliu speaks, he wants the ground to swallow him whole. His face is redder than the finest Xianzhou wine, and he looks as though he’s in physical pain whenever she opens her mouth. He tries, desperately, to get her to stop. His dignity is at stake.

“Shifu, please.”   “Aiya, please what? I’m doing you a favour! You think they'll talk to you if you stand there like a decorative vase?” “Shifu, I can handle this myself —” “Handle it how? By doing nothing? By gazing at them like a lovesick fool for the next five centuries?!” “This is embarrassing. For me. I trained you to be decisive, not to act like a bashful maiden in a romance play!”

❋ Jingliu is exasperated. If she had a slipper, she’d be brandishing it at him like a disappointed mother. She considers finding one just for this occasion.

❋ As for you . . .

❋ You know what’s happening. Jingliu is trying to “sell” her disciple off; if her lavish praises are anything to go by. You don’t tease Jing Yuan (he’s already suffering enough), but you start smiling at him more, trying to coax him into a conversation.

❋ Maybe . . . Just maybe . . . You’ll save him from any further humiliation and take the first step.

[kedreeva]

A couple months back, my neighbor wanted to get some Spitzhauben hatching eggs for his wife, so he asked me for help finding some good ones, from a good breeder. So I dug around for a bit, since Spitz are a bit of a rare breed, and found a few options that looked decent. One of them happened to be in Michigan with us, maybe a little over an hour from us, so I arranged to go pick them up in person to avoid the stresses of shipping on the eggs.

I picked up a dozen (baker's dozen, she added a few extra just in case), and a half dozen of the Marans eggs for myself (she gave me a discount because fertility hadn't been tested yet, as long as I promised to report growth/hatch rate and update about what comes out) because she claimed to have good quality and her eggs looked to be decent quality. She was really nice, very chatty, and the eggs looked great in person, too.

12 of the spitz eggs hatched, and 3 of the BCM. The BCM chicks looked great but they were being stressed OUT by the quail chicks they were in with, so I snuck them into the brooder with the spitz when I closed up the neighbor's birds one evening while they were out.

I've visited them a few times since, and they've been looking good, but they're finally to an age where on the BCM you can tell sex- perfect ratio, one rooster, two hens.

Now, I used to keep and breed BCM a long time ago. I had wanted to get into showing (never got around to it for several reasons), and I'd dealt with several lines. My original line that I'd mixed from a couple different people always produced REALLY stellar roosters- big lads with sweet, docile personalities that were 100% ready to die for their ladies, whom they always treated well. For roosters, those are all REALLY important qualities. The ideal is a rooster that treats his ladies well, is willing to fight to the death to defend them if something comes after them BUT--- importantly can tell the difference between a predator and a human who is messing with the hens (picking up, moving, treating w/ meds, whatever). Ideally, if a hen makes a noise of distress, the rooster come BOLTING to her at top fucking speed ready to kick ass, but stops dead if he sees it's just a human. And I HAD that- I used to sell the roosters to folks (SELL them, I never had to give away a rooster) as flock protectors, and I would get people coming back to buy another after their guy died defending the girls while free ranging. It's sad, but it's also one of two reasons to have a rooster.

And I see all the time people posting about their mean roosters, about how to handle roosters that are mean to humans, or people telling others oh the rooster is just young and roosters are mean when they're young and they'll mellow out when they get older, just keep putting up with it. Power through.

NO! There is almost* NEVER a reason to tolerate a nasty rooster- one that's mean to the girls, or to humans. This BCM rooster is only a few months old, but you can already see the purpose that's been bred into him. I picked up one of his girls and she went :( and he came RUNNING over to see what was wrong, looked me up and down and went nah that's cool, and then checked on all the other girls. Just in case. I went to move them from their cage to the big play pen that's set up for them, and I thought oh this is going to be a circus, trying to catch them all. The Spitzhauben were acting insane, like I was trying to kill them by looking at them. I braced the carry bin on the edge of the door, expecting to reach in to (try to) grab each bird and put them in. But no. This rooster walked over, got in, called the others, and they all chilled right out, came over and jumped into the bin with him. He's in the playpen right now just watching over all the others. If someone gets into an argument, he runs over and gets between them, and then checks on them both after. When he lies down, the others come lie down with him. On him.

THIS is what a good rooster looks like. Not in a year, not in two years. Right from the getgo, the instincts are all there. Hormones shouldn't eliminate/supercede this behavior- they shouldn't turn a bird into an asshole. They should instigate a second set of rooster behaviors- dancing/courting, tidbitting, and mating attempts. Running girls ragged, pulling feathers, causing injury, attacking people- these are all poor breeding and/or handling problems. These are things that can (and SHOULD) be selected against when breeding fowl

*The "almost" never is that a breeder starting out may not have a choice when it comes to shitty personalities- they may find themselves having to tolerate the least shitty for a few generations, until the personalities show improvement. In this case, most (good) breeders know better than to dump the wash outs on the unsuspecting, and will instead do hard culls for food or sell to folks raising food or who are aware of the personality problems. In any case any tolerance should be an in-progress tolerance, not an endgame result.

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

“Seriously. You want me to call your ex to ask him to join in on a suicide mission?”

Athena sounds inquisitorial, as if this were an interrogation; she’s cocked her head and looks at Buck from narrowed eyes. He understands that, he knows why she’s striking that tone. That’s her husband in this building, her friends, too – if she doesn't keep her cool now, if she doesn't at least appear competent on the surface, her house of cards will collapse. Buck’s is already in ruins.

“I-it’s not suicide,” he insists. 

“No? What would you call it, your plan, which obviously consists of bypassing the military?” 

“Well, if you put it that way…” Buck takes a deep breath; it doesn’t help at all, his arms swing out in a wild gesture. “But it's the only option, isn't it? The military just wants to leave them to die in there.”

“Buck,” Athena says softly. 

He doesn't know where she finds the kindness to do so. He wants her to be angry, too. He wants her to refuse to accept that Bobby and the others are stuck in that lab, and even more so that Howie is dying an unnecessarily cruel death. Not if they can help it.  

“No,” he shakes his head. “Look, that M-moira is crazy. I have no idea what she is up to, maybe it's not just frustration with her research director, maybe she's selling the antidote on the black market for pharmaceuticals.”

“You’ve read too many horror stories,” Athena says, but Buck hears the tone in her voice. 

“S-so it's true. It happens, right?”

“Of course,” she scoffs. “But that’s out of our league, Buck.”

“Out of our... ‚Thena!”

Buck laughs. It's not a particularly humorous sound, but one that causes a flicker of concern in Athena's eyes. It’s what Buck feels, too – sometimes, when you feel like crying, laughter is the only thing that can stop the desperation.

“You survived a sinking ship and a plane crash,” he says.

“This is different.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the first time you've bent the rules. And if you have to, you'll break them. Do you know that Ravi did that today? He risked everything for people he always claims are just annoying colleagues. They're not to us, Athena.” 

“Not to us,” she repeats slowly, almost sighing. A jolt runs through her body. “Still. Buck. Do you know what you’re proposing?”

“I’m only proposing you do your job, because catching criminals, that’s what you do. Moira…”

“She's definitely a criminal,” Athena adds grimly. “I'm not saying we don’t need to find her, regardless of the mess we're in. But you want us to actively defy the military with the antidote in our hands – should we even get it.”

“Tommy can get us in,” Buck insists. “If we come in through the roof, it'll take them a while to notice.”

“They'll never let us in, that's for sure.”

“Exactly. They want to let Chimney die so the virus dies. They can't do that,” he says, though it’s an impossible thing to even think about. 

“No, they can't,” Athena replies in a tone suggesting she’s thinking of Bobby now. “But do you really think Tommy will help us?”

It's a good question, maybe even an obvious one, considering how their last encounter ended. But Buck doesn't want Tommy to help him for his sake; he’s got no right to demand that kind of commitment. There is so much more at stake, and he believes, no, he knows that Tommy will understand. 

“It's not his problem, that's true,” says Buck. “But I know one thing. Even if I messed up, and even if the others haven't been exactly fair to him since we split up... he'll do it because he can't help himself, Athena. He's one of those guys who are too damn good for this world. He’s kind and compassionate.”

Athena looks at him for what seems like an eternity, even if it’s just half a minute or so. 

“Have you ever told him that, Buck?” she asks quietly, and he swallows.

He hasn’t, of course, he didn’t tell him this and so many other things.

“Well,” Athena says at last, wiping her hands on her trousers as if that would wipe away all the tension. Buck wishes it were possible, but there's no magic wand to solve their situation. “Maybe you're right. But, Buck...”

He watches her intently, there’s a small spark of hope in his heart again. Athena rummages through her pockets and finally pulls out her cell phone.

“I can't call him. I can't possibly ask the man for such a favor again, even if I were convinced, like you, that he would help us.” 

She holds out the phone to him, a small smile on her serious face. 

“But you know what?” she adds. “Seems like you’re the right person to call Tommy Kinard.”

[Hey fellow BuckTommies! I've got no time for more, but I'd like to throw this out in the wild for anyone who wants it. Make something out of it, if you like!]

[sturnboos]

KIDNAPPED BY CHRIS PART ONE

CURRENT WARNINGS: sadistic!chris, physical abuse, mental abuse. Please read at your OWN risk

STARING: Sturniolo triplets x Delilah

I walk through the empty, cold streets, no one near by. It's nice. The rain drenching me as I walk. I've been warned about how dangerous the streets here are but I don't care. They just seem empty, all the shops have been closed for ages here, it's creepy but cool. I rather walking here then in town, there's hardly any cars by, the only weird thing that's happened to me was someone once trying to sell drugs to me. I refused. They followed me for a little then stopped.

It's beginning to get dark. I hear footsteps behind me, I turn around, no one. I turn back around. I'm just imagining things. I hear glass smash on the concrete not to far away from me. I don't turn around, I walk faster, starting to get a little scared now. I suddenly feel something hard hit me on the head causing me to fall to the ground, then I'm completely out.

Blackness.

"She's quite pretty isn't she?" I hear a mans voice.

"Indeed" another man says.

"How hard did you hit her Chris, she's been out for like 6 hours now, it's supposed to be 2 hours" Someone else says.

"Maybe she's dead" one laughs.

I try to move my arm to rub my eyes but my arms are tied behind something.

"Oh she's awake" one of the men say.

I open my eyes slowly, my head throbs. I look up at three men. One had curtain bangs, one with a mullet and last one was wearing a black ski mask as if he wanted to look more intimidating then the other too. I could only see his dark blue eyes and the tips of his fluffy hair.

"What is happening?" I whisper.

"I don't know" the one with the mask says. One of the others laugh. One walks out of the room and the other follows.

"Who the fuck are you?" I say. mask man leans down to my height of where I'm sitting. He grabs my chin and pulls it towards him.

"Didn't anyone warn you of walking around the streets" he whispers. I stare at him, he runs his thumb over my lips then pulls my bottom lip down.

"especially when your so small and pretty" he adds on. I move my leg to kick him in the crotch. He puts his knee down on my calf and puts his weight on it, I wince, "don't do that" he whispers. He moves his knee off me.

"Take off your mask" I whimper.

"if I take off my mask then I'll keep you forever" he whispers.

"where am I?" I look around the room.

"No where near anyone you know Delilah" he whispers and let's go off me.

"How do you know my name?" I ask. He shrugs and stands so I try to kick him again. He turns around and stands on my thigh, making me yelp in pain, he brings knife to my throat. "Don't do it again, I don't really want to have to kill you so early" he whispers. A tear leaves my eye. "I'm not going to hurt you Delilah" he whispers slipping the knife up my throat and pointing at my chin.

"What do you want?" My breath hitches. "I wanted to punch the shit out of you everyday until you're dead but I think I'll keep you" he whispers.

"Maybe you will get a couple punches though" he shrugs and pulls the knife away from me.

"Why me?" I ask, "because you were stupid enough to walk around the streets" he whispers. Then he stands and walks out of the room slamming the door. Tears stream out of my eyes and I bring my knees to my chest.

"How long should we keep her?" I hear the faint voice of one of the others say.

"I think we should keep her for a while then kill her, I mean, we can't keep her for to long, they'll have everyone looking for her" the other one says.

"No ones gonna find us nick" the masked one answers.

"I know, but, if we keep her, what are we gonna do, I mean, we'd have to feed her" one says.

"And thats what we'll do"

TAGLIST: @blushsturns @blahbel668 @riasturns @iloveduckssm @cl1tlover3000 @emmaweasley @mattsfavho @sturniolobananas1 @courta13 @alexisa78 @chrisissos3xy comment here to be added

[neil-gaiman]

hi neil :) i'm kind of curious about something

is it common practice for companies to commission (is that the word?) scripts for shows before deciding if they'll be renewed or not? and if so, is there any specific reasons why? i can kind of guess like... to get a head start on production, or to see if it's something they think will sell maybe? i've just never heard of this happening before and it struck me as very interesting!

It happens most of the time. Greenlighting a TV series (or a movie) is expensive. Commissioning someone to write scripts before you press that green light button is much much cheaper.

I wrote the scripts for Season 1 not being certain that there would even be a TV series.

In theory (had there not been a 5 month long writers strike) about the time that Amazon got to make their decisions they would also have had first draft scripts for the whole season that they would have used to Budget the season and plan the future with.

[ghostofhyuck]

5:32 PM

It always rain during your birthday.

If it wasn't raining, it'll be hit with a typhoon. You never spent your birthday with the sun shining bright enough for you to make plans with your friends and family. It'll always be in your house, with a few guests and front door filled with wet umbrellas and shoes. It'll be a quick dinner, only a few chats, then they'll go home before the rain became a storm.

You're used to it. You never liked celebrating your birthday at all. Every year you just feel like you're getting older, signs of aging are forming and yet you still feel like you haven't changed at all. That's why today, you didn't even bothered telling everyone that it's your birthday.

Of course, there are a few people who remembered. Your family greeted you first thing in the morning, and you were bombarded with a lot of birthday greetings from your friends on social media.

But that's it. You didn't told them about your birthday plans. How can you? When you look at your window, the storm is not going to stop anytime. You thought that maybe, you can make your birthday better by cooking your favorite meal. Right. That will do.

As you stand up from your seat, you hear the doorbell of your front door. A quick raise of your eyebrow had you confused. You wondered, who's stupid enough to go through the storm just to visit you? You already told your friends that you can schedule a celebration next time when the day's sunny.

"Surprise!"

"What the fuck Jaemin!?"

You opened the door wider to let your best friend in. You watched as he removed his sopping wet sneakers along with his socks that's dripping. You couldn't believe it!

"Jaemin, I told you ---"

"That you'll be celebrating your birthday when it's not raining anymore, I know, I know," Jaemin nonchalantly said, brushing you off.

He hands you a box which you confusingly glanced at, turning your stare at him who removed his hoodie which wasn't saved by his umbrella.

"But, I already ordered that cake for your birthday and the bakery doesn't accept refunds, so might as well bring it to you right?"

You glanced at the box, you know that logo. It's the bakery that sells those heavenly chiffon cake with whipped marshmallow as icing. It's your cake ever since you were a kid --- and only one bakery sells it.

Jaemin's smile faded when you looked at him and your eyes started to water, your lips shaking as if you're holding back your tears. At first, there's a hint of worry in Jaemin's expression but eventually, he only gave you an assuring smile.

"I hate you so much Na Jaemin, you're making me cry," you mumbled.

But you were only welcomed by Jaemin's hug. Despite him going through the rain, he still feels warm.

"I know you love me," Jaemin answered back. Hand patting your head.

"I can't believe you."

"It's nothing," Jaemin said, even though it was a lie. It wasn't nothing. He knows how much you hate your birthday and how it always rain. He knows that you're going to mope around and he doesn't want that to happen.

That's why even if he has to take an hour-long bus ride to your apartment just so he can give you your usual birthday cake and celebrate it with him. Jaemin will do anything.

Because he loves the way your eyes lit up when he lights up the candles on your birthday cake.

He watch as you close your eyes, sincerely clasping your hands together as you make a wish.

"So, what did you wish for?" Jaemin asked as soon as you blew off the candles.

You only smiled at him, "For more birthdays like this."

"We can make that work."

But you only laughed, "what? You're willing to go through the rain just to buy me a cake?" "Well, I already did. So what makes you think I won't do it again?"

You only stared at Jaemin, a meaningful smile curves on his lips. You only gazed at it for minute before sinking into you what he was trying to meant.

"Then, thank you for making my birthday wish come true," you only said. Grabbing his hands and lightly squishing it.

[seat-safety-switch]

If you can't weld well, then weld a lot. That's the advice my mentors have given me. They're probably proud of me, in whatever heaven or hell it is that dirtbag bodyshop techs go to when they die. Maybe some of them are still alive, I don't know. Don't go on LinkedIn much, not since it tried to steal my thoughts and give them to thought leaders. Oh, I'm weirding you out. This happens sometimes, I'm sorry. Can I start over?

As I've complained about on many previous occasions, I am not a particularly good welder. This shouldn't be surprising: the ability to melt multiple pieces of metal together using lightning is simply unnatural. Thousands of years ago, the village elders would have demanded your destruction for wielding such a power in their presence. Even so, I try, and I hope that my ancestors will forgive me when I fix this dodgy rocker panel.

Experience, though: that's what will make me a kind of okay welder. Unfortunately, I only have so many shitty cars, and I don't want to do my worst work to the things I have to keep for years, and drive around all day. What will the society papers think, etc. So I'm looking for alternative things to practice on. Once in awhile, I'll come across a pedestrian bridge with a spotty railing. Grind, zap, fog it with the $5 Princess Auto special spray paint that they're afraid to sell now. If you wear a high-visibility vest, nobody will even call the cops. Good practice.

So if you see me out there, repairing municipal infrastructure without permission, don't look directly at the spark, for one thing. Afterward, come say hi, and let me know if there's something in your neighbourhood that needs a booger weld. We're all in this together.

I'm hoping to work my way up to playground equipment one day, but that's a tough goal. Not just for safety reasons, but because parents these days are expected to actually watch their kids, and they'll get upset at all the swearing when I have to re-do the same bead for the fifteenth time.

[rafayelridesfisheatsfish]

A very far fetched headcanon/AU of mine is Xavier and Sylus are siblings and not just because they have the same hair color. Here's why.

Contains: Tyrannicide sylus with a soft spot for his little brother🤷‍♀️ spoilers of Xavier's and Sylus myth, long awaited revelry and Sylus anecdote

I've always felt like Sylus' standard myth was lacking, I mean, the other LI'S myth consists of a magical feel with a tragic but beautiful ending while Sylus' myth was...boxing? Aren't myths supposed to be special? Pretty sure boxing is just a normal daily occurrence for Sylus so I made my own myth for him. One that overlaps with Xavier's standard myth but takes place after his dragon myth.

In this AU Sylus is Xavier's older brother thus making him a Royal Prince, also the eldest making him first in line to the throne. This is a half baked au so for some reason, Sylus doesn't remember his dragon past life yet. Now Sylus, just like Xavier never wanted to to bear the weight of the crown, where they differ is how they rebel against their family.

Sylus upon finding out about the royal families secrets (feeding humans to the planet) ran away and turned to a life of crime becoming a space pirate leaving Xavier to bear the weight of the crown alone. This is where Sylus starts his space pirate journey where he pillages planets, specifically going after other Royals (his anecdote) and takes back what they've stolen from other planets to give back. He saves his parents for last, he wants them to live in fear of him, of what they know is bound to happen to them, he wants them to look around to their other Royal equals and see them fall with the knowledge that they'll succumb to the same fate or so he says to himself, really it's because he wants his beloved little brother to live normally (well as normal as he can when he's a prince) to live in peace even for just a little bit because he knows his beloved little brother is innocent and is being kept in the dark just like he was, he plans to spare him.

Finally, when he's rid the galaxy of Royals and burned their castles, It was time to go after his own royal blood. But the one that sits on the throne was not his parents, it was mc. At this point, he still hasn't remembered their past life. Mc recognises him as the eldest prince and asks him why he's returned, Sylus still confused that his family is nowhere to be found asks about them, with notably much more care when asking about his brother. He learns of Xavier's journey through space and time with the back trackers and all of a sudden, his bloodlust for his parents disappeared. "worried" would be an understatement to what Sylus is feeling for his brother, he's been all through space, he knows how dangerous it is out there and so he follows him.

The N109 Zone meets it's true ruler with Sylus' arrival but Sylus hardly cares about any of that, he's focused on looking for his little brother but Xavier is elusive, changing identities every now and then and easily slipping through operations with the help of Jeremiah. It's only when this foolish girl with an aether core sells her soul to him that he finally finds his brother through her connections, so he entertains her, he shows up, prevents her from getting shot and attempts to resonates with her. When their energies synced together and resonated even for just a moment, he remembered his past life and his beloved sorceress.

Authors note: Bye this sucks and is so half assed, there's so many missing details I just CANT articulate rn so I'll maybe probably edit this when I'm not burnt out. I just really needed to get this out or my brain would've rotted with it💀🙏 YALL I'M SCARED THIS IS MY FIRST TIME POSTING MY WRITING FOR THIS FANDOM DONT JUMP ME PLEASE💔💔🙏🙏🙏 THIS IS UNEDITED💀

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Who kidnapped age gap reader?? :(( AND WHY??

You sit on the cot and try to stay calm. Calm is good. Calm is safe. If you stay calm maybe you can make him think you're going along with it. That you're going to let it all happen like he wants. And he'll let his guard down.

This time it's a storage unit, it looks like. And- oh, how kind. He gave you a bucket. And some gossip rags. About yourself? what the fuck? "We'll have 7 kids," he declared, "We'll need 7 to be in our band-"

"Oh what instrument do you-"

"SHUT UP!" he barked rounding on you, "You owe me this. You don't TALK unless I tell you you fucking can, do you understand?"

You stare at him insolently. Blinking. Waiting.

"Answer me, you useless foid," he screamed.

"You didn't tell me I could talk to you," you answer simply.

But when he brandishes the knife at you again, only to have a Batarang hit the back of his hand and force him to drop it, you exhale slowly. "That's quite enough of that," Bruce said, handily backhanding the man out of his way towards Clark.

"Well, I feel special," you manage, through chattering teeth. Not sure why you feel so cold.

"My mother is a big fan of your movies, ma'am," Clark called over his shoulder, as he carried the still howling kidnapper away. Off to find a convenient cop to hand him to.

Bruce was grateful all you had was a few bruises. But when you start to cry, he pulled you against his chest, "It's alright," he soothed. "You're safe. Princess, I'm here."

"I tried to run but-"

"I know," he murmured. "You did everything you could do." He wrapped his cape around you when he heard cop cars. Aware that your clothes were torn from the struggle.

"Do you have to go?" you asked him.

"If anyone asks," Bruce said smiling a little, "Superman picked me up because he wanted help putting the case together. And I helped because all my Robins liked your movies."

"So sell it."

"Peak starlet. Or just faint if you don't want to do press things. Did he hit your head? What hurts, baby?" You're still sniffling. Even if you're not clinging to him now that there are witnesses.

"I'm just so tired, Brucie," you murmur.

And he knows you're not just talking about today. You're tired of being afraid. Tired of having to protect yourself and not knowing who to trust. And his heart aches. "Just talk to the cops and then faint," he murmurs. "I'm going to disappear. They'll take you to the hospital. Then Bruce Wayne will come and pick you up, okay?"

"Okay," you murmur, wiping tears away on the back of your hand.

[autistichalsin]

One of the things that fascinates me about Halsin is how, as into sex as he is, he seems singularly focused on his partner's pleasure; he gets on his knees for them in his romance scene, but shows no sign of wanting them to return the favor.

And in fact, he is a lot better at giving advice than taking it. After flirting at the Tiefling party, Halsin tells the player not to worry about coming on too strong and that they were just seizing the moment, and yet, if the player rejects Halsin after he accidentally wildshapes, the next morning he apologizes for coming on too strong.

Whether that's just a hangup of his because he thinks he has to be the Best to make sure his lover won't leave him, or maybe some of it is a result of the Underdark, I'm not sure. But he definitely is harder on himself than others.

And I think that is one thing that would come out in his kinks; as much as he affirms that, for example, dom/sub fantasies are perfectly normal (like in that party banter to ascended Astarion, where his worry is specifically because the player is actually thralled) he seems like he has trouble affirming his own. For example, he shifts into bear form in the Drow brothel, but only does this when they express interest in his bear form; "we must give the people what they want, mustn't we?"

So it would be really interesting, then, for Halsin to have a really taboo kink/desire, and be absolutely terrified to tell his partner about it, terrified they'll think he's sick/a freak and leave him.

TW: Discussion of consensual non-consent, also known as rape fantasy or rapeplay, are under the cut. Read at your own risk.

So imagine Halsin having this fantasy. As a big guy he is used to being the dominant partner; no one has ever suspected he might like to bottom, or to be a submissive. The only time he's done such a thing was with his Drow captors. He knows he would like to give his submission willingly, and he does with his partner a few times, before expressing this particular kink.

One thing that gets horribly misunderstood is what makes one actually want CNC. It isn't that they actually want to get raped; it's the idea of having control forcibly taken so completely, while still being safe. Such people wouldn't enjoy a real assault. It's precisely because it comes from a trusted partner, who isn't actually hurting them, that people enjoy it.

So for Halsin, who always has to be in control, to want to explore his trauma where he was forced to lose control, and to experiment with elements from that in an entirely different scenario, where he can draw comfort from it, is something i could very much see him wanting. He would want to revisit those on his terms. He himself said that while under such endless stress from the Shadow Curse, he began to fantasize about his days with the Drow, viewing it as a safer place mentally. "Perhaps [the Shadow Curse] caused me to gild undeserving memories of my youth..." He is trying to work out his feelings towards when he lost control.

He clearly doesn't want to return to them; if a Lolth Drow threatens to sell him back to his captors, he snaps, "you would be unwise to attempt it, trust me. In any case, the house of my captors is long-extinct." Then he pauses and has a realization; realizing for the first time that they were captors, not hosts, and that captors was a more accurate term. Halsin is still processing parts of his trauma, after all this time, and admits that his current stresses caused him to struggle with this.

So he doesn't want to actually return to them, but in his head he constructed a fantasy version of them that was safer to engage with, where the violations he endured weren't real. And honestly, in his shoes, it's completely understandable how and why that happened.

So that makes the case for why he needs a safe place to explore himself, his fantasies, his fears, all of it.

The issue of course is that Halsin is self-sacrificing and, as noted above, doesn't seem to prioritize his wants as much as his partners'. If he ever did manage to speak about this, it would be, I think, after a great deal of guilt and maybe even self-loathing, thinking there must be something wrong with him for having these fantasies.

So imagine him with a partner who is happy to indulge him, who gets him to finally open up about his desires. Who affirms that he's allowed to have desires, to process his trauma however he needs; after all, any way of working through it is better than doing nothing like Halsin has been doing for centuries. This is him finally being willing to explore it, to see how it interacted with his own sexuality; of course his partner would never refuse him such a thing.

That is the core of the CNC fic I'm going to write; showing how Halsin's unique blend of traumas affect how and why he craves this in particular.

[griefabyss69]

Flashpoint

Written for @steddiemicrofic! And dedicated to @swifterthings. Happy birthday Meg!!! <3 <3 <3

[ AO3 ] 'GUARD' wc: 532 | rated: E | cw: Public sex, humiliation

Steve is a sexual thrill seeker, Eddie gets off on humiliation, and they're deeply in love—a tale as old as time!

By now, Eddie thinks he should be used to the risky shit they do whenever Steve gets adventurous. Sure, maybe a handful of strangers have caught them, but nothing bad has happened; usually they just laugh or duck their head and walk faster.

Still, it's like Steve's either gotten too confident or he's looking for a bigger thrill, because today he's got Eddie bent over the hood of his car in the parking lot of the grocery store.

It's nighttime, but cars are still going by on the road and if someone turns into the lot they'll see Eddie lit up on both sides by the headlights of the Beemer.

Eddie's knees are like jello and he can't tell if it's from the humiliation, the fear of getting caught, or the insane shit Steve's doing to him, with his long fingers stroking the inside of his ass. All he can do is flatten his hands against the hood and rest his cheek on it, giving into whatever Steve decides they're doing tonight. He's pretty sure he's drooling on the metal.

His mind is just starting to slip out of hard reality and into something a little more comfortable when a car does pull into the parking lot. Steve buries his fingers as deep as they'll go and stops, leaning over him to cover him with his body.

"Hide your face," he murmurs in his ear.

"Car trouble?" a man's voice calls from where he's pulled up.

"We're okay," Steve calls back, and Eddie gives a thumbs up, hoping the nail polish will help sell their heterosexuality.

"Pretty crazy to be doing that here," the guy laughs. "But have your fun."

"We will, thanks," Steve replies, wiggling his fingers inside of Eddie, forcing a helpless shudder out of him.

The man drives off and Steve pulls back, no longer hiding him, and once again Eddie's exposed to the world. He looks back, seeing the exhilaration in Steve's face, and understands.

Steve wants to humiliate him and save him. He wants to show him off and be his body guard at the same time.

"You fucking loved that," he accuses.

"Yeah," Steve sighs, happy. "You're lucky I covered you."

Eddie images Steve openly fucking him like this in front of the stranger and shivers, feeling his dick jerk where it hangs between his thighs.

"You love me too much to do that," he says, not sure if Steve's gonna take it as a challenge or not.

"That's not it," Steve says, using his free hand to get his jeans undone and pull his dick out. "I love you too much not to share you."

Eddie groans into the puddle of drool he left on the hood. The haze from before starts to overtake him again as Steve pulls his fingers out. He hears a cap, then there's cold lube sliding from his ass crack down to his balls, making him shudder and widen his stance.

When Steve pushes his dick into him it goes easily, but it's still a big hot thing taking its claim, connecting them in a way that never fails to make Eddie's spine melt.

"I love you too," he moans.

[arciam]

I liked your point about the build up in Jayce's emotions and how it would distract from Viktor's minimal reaction to hearing the news!

The scene where Jayce tells Viktor is obviously done that way to have it be a scene between the two of them and not involve a random doctor character we don't know, but it's honestly really cruel to put it on Jayce to be the one to deliver the news to Viktor.

(In real life medical situations the doctor would just tell Jayce that Viktor will wake up, they're doing testing, and they'll explain everything to Viktor once he wakes, and then Viktor could decide if he wants Jayce there for that or not. Which would create another plot issue, because Viktor would probably say no. I guess it does say something about the state of Piltover healthcare that they just tell Jayce everything while Viktor is still unconscious)

But for your meta's, maybe you could share some thoughts about this scene overall, and both their reactions to the news? I always guessed Viktor probably already knew, but was avoiding it up until this moment.

(Ask is referencing this post.)

Thank you, first of all! 💛

As for your question... you really opened up a can of worms with that one.

I've spent a good part of my day pacing up and down my apartment, contemplating 1) Jayce's degree of awareness prior to Viktor collapsing, and 2) the ramifications thereof. And frankly, it kinda confuses me.

Just to get this out of the way real quick first: I do agree with you on Viktor's side of things. I don't believe he knew (as in, previously received a diagnosis), but he would have felt his "body eroding" for a while, and by the time he was coughing up blood... well, it doesn't take a scientist.

However, precisely that brings me to the tricky bit.

I feel like the show wants us to feasibly believe that Jayce was more or less blindsided by how bad Viktor's health was, but - he saw Viktor randomly bleed out his nose and mouth after a coughing fit.

(Again: it shouldn't take a scientist to realise that's not a "headache". Yet the next time we see them, Jayce is cheerfully getting ready for the opera and listening to the "vision" Viktor had as he was literally coughing up a lung.)

A scene like this should normally play out one of three ways:

The afflicted character B quickly hides the evidence, leaving character A in the dark (-> didn't happen)

There is some sort of attention drawn to the dawning realisation of character A, such as a shocked facial expression or "You're bleeding..!" (-> didn't happen)

Neither of the above, which under normal circumstances would leave us under the impression that character A already knew (-> sort of maybe happened..? I'd still argue Jayce seems just the slightest bit too surprised and yet too little concerned by the situation to really sell that though...)

Secret fourth thing ig?

Either way, the semblance of a conclusion I've drawn - seeing as I can't really make the other pieces fit seamlessly - is one of narrative logic instead.

See, the first time we as the audience see Viktor cough (and are thereby immediately clued in, since no one in fiction ever coughs if they're not actively dying), it happens markedly out of Jayce's sight, in a scene that is all about showcasing to us just how unaware Jayce is of the growing disparity in their relationship.

So while it may not make a lot of sense if you think too hard about how Jayce wouldn't have noticed, I still believe that what's being conveyed to us by the show is indeed mostly an ignorance on Jayce's part concerning Viktor's declining health... so much so that it almost comes across as indifference.

...Which, of course, is very much not the case for Jayce, but the fact that it's easily misconstrued as such probably also serves to let us see how it might be perceived from Viktor's point of view.

After all, there's a reason I once referred to Jayce as a "boyfailure who keeps wanting to do the most and thereby accomplishing the least":

When it comes to showing his love and devotion, my guy literally started with overthrowing the government and necromancy, before slowly working his way towards such far-fetched concepts as *checks notes* "telling your crush you admire them".

Regarding your other points:

Your take on the particulars of Piltovian healthcare and how it differs from a real-life setting is very interesting, though I must admit, I tend not to make these comparisons myself - not because they're without merit, it just hardly ever occurs to me to do so, really. 😅

(Although, something you said did make me think of something somewhat unrelated which might become an entry in the "Underrated JayVik" series at some point, so... stay tuned, I guess..? 👀)

But yeah, I think in this case, you're probably right about it being slightly contrived by the creators so as to grant the characters - and us! - this intimate moment. And the scene is definitely better for it imo.