#so now they have to make an effort to be civil for his sake

[deadpresidents]

"Don't get distracted. Don't get overwhelmed. Don't get paralyzed and pulled into the chaos that President Trump and his allies are purposely creating with the volume and speed of executive orders; the effort to dismantle the federal government; the performative attacks on immigrants, transgender people and the very concept of diversity itself; the demands that other countries accept Americans as their new overlords; and the dizzying sense that the White House could do or say anything at any moment. All of this is intended to keep the country on its back heel so President Trump can blaze ahead in his drive for maximum executive power, so no one can stop the audacious, ill-conceived and frequently illegal agenda being advanced by his administration. For goodness sake, don't tune out.

The actions of this Presidency need to be tracked, and when they cross moral or legal lines, they need to be challenged, boldly and thoughtfully, with the confidence that the nation's system of checks and balances will prove up to the task. There are reasons for concern on that front, of course. The Republican-led Congress has so far abdicated its role as a coequal branch of government, from allowing its laws and spending directives to be systematically cast aside to fearfully assenting to the President stocking his Cabinet with erratic, unqualified loyalists. Much of civil society -- from the business community, to higher education, to parts of the corporate media -- has been disturbingly quiet, even acquiescent...

...America faces a new reality, and it demands wisdom, endurance and courage. The United States is now led by a President who appears willing to stampede over any person, law, congressional statute or country that stands in his way. He is driven by impulse and is disinterested in rules, history or reality.

How Americans and the world handle such a President will determine much about the next four years, and it will ask much from all of us. We must meet the moment. Mr. Trump won the election fair and square, but his position is that of President, not king or god-emperor. Every time Congress allows him to exceed his constitutional role, it encourages more anti-democratic behavior and weakens the legislature's ability to check further erosion of the norms and values that have helped make this nation the freest, richest and strongest in the world."

-- Here's a gift link from me to bypass the paywall and read today's New York Times editorial, "Now Is Not the Time to Tune Out."

[dccomicsbookshelf]

Damian Wayne has three parents; a Mother, a Father, and a Grayson.

He does not get what is so difficult to understand there and yet the one time he tried to explain it at school he just got more weird looks.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hi I was the one who requested the Furina-like reader and i wanted to clear up that:

Alastor and Vox are still archenemies they just have something new to fight over (basically just like petty divorced exes fighting over custody)

Since I just realized that sinners can't have kids in hell i'll make that reader was a teenager who died young

Also I'm so sorry my req was alot for you I tend to get away with asks sometimes 😭

Haha! All good, hun! Tbh. I really do like this idea. They are like petty divorced exes most of the time and now, they’ll be petty divorced exes that love their precious daughter so much, that they won’t let one another become the favourite parent and actively sabotage. I only chose female since Furina’s female. Hope that’s okay!

Alastor and Vox- Climbing the Ladder

The Overlord of Technology and the Overlord of Radio are genuine archenemies, rivals, they cannot stand one another and their mutual hatred even extends to their personal relationships… but when their love becomes targeted on the same person, this situation gets all the more dangerous

You, a cute hydro-sea animal-styled young teenage sinner, didn’t just catch the fatherly love of just Alastor but of Vox as well… somehow and now. They begin fighting on sight and arguing and berating one another nonstop to try knock each other down so you don’t like one over the other

Yes. Alastor and Vox openly tug on you and argue loudly but eventually, Charlie makes them agree on a… ‘co-parenting’ deal. Alastor has you in the Hotel one week then Vox has you in the Vees Tower the next week. They are basically like fathers with joint custody and they hate it

Because they hate each other far too much to be civil and everytime they have to meet up to share you. Both are holding back the desire to murder each other. Otherwise, the tension inbetween them is so thick, you can cut it with a butcher knife

Both of them are the type of surrogate father to shower and pamper their daughter so she’ll like them over the other. Vox showers you in gifts and gives you specific technological devices so he can keep his eyes on you, whilst Alastor showers you in affection and keeps your attention on him with all his cool tricks and nicknacks

Alastor tries to make you dislike technology but Vox tries to make you rely on technology, and their contrasting efforts to have you love them like your one true father makes their already tense relationship even worse

Both Alastor and Vox can recognise your love for the theatre so Alastor uses his own theatre speciality to teach you to dance and sing and perform whilst Vox arranges a whole drama class for you to learn from the professionals. They both attend any drama performances you happen to atten. Vox is recording it to treasure as Alastor can’t take his eyes off his precious babygirl

Will these two ever not fight with each other? The only time they willingly get along is when you’re ever being threatened or being harassed or being bullied. Then, they shove aside their differences and their deep disdain for each other to protect you

Alastor and Vox do not like the whole ‘co-parenting arrangement’ they agreed on. They don’t want to share you at all, they both want you as their own surrogate daughter. Vox is pissed since he is worried he may seem like the lesser father and Alastor is annoyed that some flat-faced freak is trying to take his daughter away from him

Your kind, laid-back, down-to-earth, chill girl demeanour is kinda hard to get around for both Overlords. Alastor is dapper, sophisticated whilst Vox is a bit prickly and arrogant. Neither are good with handling you yet both are equally supportive and listen to you

Alastor and Vox are both equally protective over you. You’re so selfless and self-sacrificing towards your friends that you’re willing to jump into danger for their sake. Luckily, you have two very powerful Overlords as backup. Both willing to tear apart your enemies to make sure you’re safe

Your dads, Alastor and Vox are both working to shake out your very assuming and judgmental mannerisms. Those are unfitting for a lady like you. Alastor teaches you to be a prim proper classy lady and Vox teaches you to be a ‘bad bitch of high class’

At the end of the day, both of them love like you are their biological daughter so they’ll always consider you as and they’ll do anything for you, even try their best to get along and tolerate one another. If it means you’ll be happy and you’ll get to stay in their afterlives, that’s all that really matters here

“My dear. As much as I love you, this flamboyance and imprudence is below you. You’re a beautiful lady of the highest class, you must show that. Come with me now. May we go to the mall together, a day out to work on yourself, princess”

“Leitora, I get it! The bravado and dramatic flare is definitely unique but I wish for you to drop now. You’re becoming bratty and no daughter of mine is a diva, I’ll show you what I mean. Let’s go for a walk around the tower, honeypot”

[billskeis]

ᡣ𐭩 sharing a bed w bill

it was quite an evening you were having. you and the guys decided to have a little get together, the five of you were laughing, drinking, and just overall doing stupid shit teenagers would do.

you haven’t spoken to bill at all tonight.

you’re not quite sure why it’s like this. you got along with everyone, especially tom. so why wasn’t it the same case with his brother? at this point you thought he hated you. whenever you came over, he didn’t really acknowledge you, nor made the effort to even have a conversation: let alone say hi.

one could ask, why didn’t you make the effort?

that’s because you did. you did, on multiple occasions, and it was either always a shrug, a nod, or one worded answers. “he definitely doesn’t like you, not even as a friend.” you decided at this point to be content with it. it feels as though despite the obvious gap and disconnect between the two of you, bill and you remained civil for the sake of keeping the whole group together.

it also didn’t help that you had a little crush on bill.

but he’s basically proven with his actions he’s wanted nothing to do with you. cross out all possibilities that bill will ever like you back..

downing another shot, tom screams at the burning feeling down his throat. “WHOOO! i could definitely go for another, dare, truth, or not,” you however, could not take anymore shots. being the idiot you were you decided to occasionally pour yourself some without even playing the game. you knew that this will be a long night being within the proximity of bill so the alcohol was much needed. but now, even one whiff or drop of alcohol will have you puke.

“y/n, truth or dare?” georg asks, he almost slurs on his words, obviously tipsy, and gustav is already blacked out on the couch sleeping peacefully. “mm, i’ll do a dare.” both georg and tom made eye contact with one another and grin, tom then whispers something in georg’s ear and georg snickers, tom following.

what they had in store for you, you would’ve never expected.

“i dare you to share a bed with bill tonight.”

what? say what now? did you hear that correctly?

your jaw most likely and probably did reach the floor, even though you were so close to it. because why would they even declare a dare like that? especially tom? it’s not like you could even step out of the dare, because if you did. you would have to take another shot, and you were NOT trying to throw up tonight. so you just had to suck it up.

you may ask, what did the other guy’s think of this? you had once talked to tom about your concerns and he just brushed it off, saying some bullshit like “that’s just bill, it’s nothing personal.” did he do this to purposefully fuck you over?

oh, but it felt oh so personal.

bill didn’t speak, although you could tell that he was a little displeased by this dare. his eyes went wider for a second to then quickly return to his nonchalant face. did he really hate you that much? you twiddled your thumbs not knowing the words to put in your mouth.

tom and georg were just giggling. those fuckers. unfortunately for you, you’re so drunk that any doing anything requiring physical strength is impossible. you’ll deal with them tomorrow morning. “is.. is that okay with you bill..?” you ask, bill just heavily sighs and walks away from the living room. assumingely this gives you the okay and you follow behind after him.

“goodnight y/n! have fun!” georg and tom chant while waving you out of the room teasingly. shit, did they know you like bill? did you make it that obvious? you look behind them and look at the stupid looks on their faces, sticking up a middle finger at them as they laugh a little harder.

this is going to be a loooong night.

“sleep on that side.” bill tells you, he attempts to sound stern but his voice is softer than from what you usually hear. which is like, once in a blue moon. his makeup is all cleaned off and he’s in his pyjamas. you couldn’t help but stare at his side profile as he fixes the bed up before letting the two of you get in.

you nod at him, slipping into the bed and under the sheets. he turns off the lamp and does the same as you. you feel the bed dip with his weight added to it, as he adjusts himself to get ready to sleep. your bodies are facing opposite ways, clearly wanting nothing to do with one another. but how true is that?

“goodnight,” you say, no answer.

wow, he can’t even say goodnight back? you feel so disheartened by this. the constant attempts to get to know him, make conversations with him, all for nothing. it feels as if he’s completely shut you out by building a wall between the two of you, even though so close together. why couldn’t he just want to be together with you like you wanted with him?

you decided to just close your eyes and try to sleep the night off. as soon as it’s morning, you’d leave the room to let bill be. there’s no point in good-mornings if all he’s going to do is ignore you.

a pair of arms begin to wrap around your body, pulling you closer to theirs. is that.. bill..? is he drunk..? no, he had no shots tonight. he wasn’t even participating in the game. this couldn’t be him behind you. it must be a stranger. wait, that’s even worse..

your body is frozen. you don’t know what to do. in the dim light, you look down to the pair of hands that hold you so closely together.

black nail polish. with white french tip.

you begin to feel your face heat up. what the hell is he doing? you’re so confused. head and thoughts conflictingly filled with the thoughts of how the boy who hated you the most is cuddling with you at this very moment.

“i don’t hate you.”

tense. your body tenses at his words. should you reply? oh god, what the hell do i do? the alcohol is making your brain all fuzzy and you just can’t seem to come up with anything to say, being completely silent and motionless. however, the way you’re breathing indicates to him you’re awake.

“i’m sorry, i just don’t know—how to talk to girls… it’s quite embarrassing. i want to get closer. i want us to be.. together.”

it feels as though a thousand weights have been lifted off your chest, your body relaxes within his touch. noting this, bill continues to speak and you hear him out. not like you can say much anyway, you’re shocked, stunned, flabbergasted and quite bashful right now.

he actually wants to get to know you.

“i hope i can make it up to you with this, sorry if you’re uncomfortable. i can let go if you wa—“ you immediately shake your head no. he quietly laughs at this. bill then lets his chin rest on your head while the two of you lay on your side.

he’s so tall his body engulfs you, making you feel safe. safe in a space that once has you so awkward it felt as though whenever you were with him it was like walking on eggshells.

intertwining your hands together, he runs his thumb back and forth across the surface of your own hand caressing it. it soothes you. his hand is soft and warm along with his whole body.

“comfortable?” you nod and giggle at him.

the whole reason why bill “disliked” you was because he lacked experience. reflecting back on it, bill has never really done anything to show that he hated you. he just ignored you or ran away. it’s quite cute.

you begin to feel yourself drift into sleep. it’s so cozy here you never want this moment to end.

bill kisses the top of your head, “goodnight.”

“see man? i told you this was a good idea. i can’t believe for a second you doubted me,” tom smacks georg on the chest gently while georg is taking pictures on his digital camera.

“i am, NEVER, letting them live this down..” georg says as he continues to flash his camera pic after pic. tom runs to the side of the bed bill is sleeping on, posing at the edge of the bed so he can get in one of the pictures.

you and bill were cuddling closely. you switch from your spooning position to you with your head on top of bill’s chest, his arm wrapped around you waist. completely oblivious to this as the two of you were sound asleep.

gustav then walks past the room to use the restroom. he then stops to see the buffoonery that was going on in the room. watching as georg and tom were fucking around whilst you and bill were sleeping. he notes that the two of you were indeed hugging while sleeping. still drunk, he thinks while scratching his head,

“they must be really good friends now.”

[waywardwhispersblaze]

Thinking of Tobias Kiramman.

Thinking of how he'll probably never be totally accepting of Vi's presence in his life, not because she's a zaunite, but because she is related to Jinx, and that's just not something they can get around. I don't think he blames her for what happened, but it was obvious even in act 1 she was always going to have a conflict of loyalty because of her sister - and of course that's exactly what happened.

And unlike Caitlyn, he has no strong feelings for Vi personally, that would make him reassess his feelings and try to make things work anyway.

My headcanon is that 1-2 days passed between the moment Vi frees Jinx in ep 8 and the actual battle, so at one point in the Kiramman manor it was "discovered" that Jinx had escaped her cell (Caitlyn and Vi totally had a "oh really?" pikachu face reaction to it). Anyone present would of course have automatically assumed Vi set her free, including Tobias, and I think he would really have resented her for it (not suspecting that Caitlyn played a part in it, though this is an interesting question: would Caitlyn tell him and how would he react?)

Flash forward to the series finale, and… here he is, having mourned the loss of his wife, and now he has to share his home with Vi, who is mourning the loss of his wife's killer.

They are simply not compatible, and Tobias is only human. I do think he's not a bad man, and that he loves Caitlyn, so he'd try to make an effort and keep things civil for her sake, but while time can do wonders, I think it will take him a long, long time before he can ever be truly comfortable around Vi. Which is why I like the idea I've seen somewhere that Tobias moves to another house / estate after the finale.

Of course that puts Caitlyn in a similar situation to Vi - she loves both Vi and her father but the two probably won't get along, just like Caitlyn wouldn't have gotten along with Jinx if she had stayed in Piltover (I mean - it's one thing to let go of one's hatred, another to be totally accepting of someone's presence).

And it's all very tragic, and it makes the idea that Caitlyn and Vi keep choosing each other anyway all the more powerful.

[kathlare]

glimpse of her

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando encounters Stella and her children in Baku, where he is reminded of his past with Amelie. As the kids play and share memories of Amelie, Lando is confronted by the striking resemblance between Carlota and her aunt.

Wordcount: 1.6 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

June 9th, 2022 - Baku, Azerbaijan

Lando adjusted his cap, his eyes scanning the Baku track as he made his way around with the team. The heat of the sun bounced off the concrete, the hustle and bustle of the paddock a constant hum in the background. He was focused, his mind running through the upcoming sessions, but something caught his attention as he walked past the barriers.

There, near the pit entrance, he saw the familiar sight of Checo’s kids playing with a ball, rolling it between themselves and laughing. Chequito and Carlota were chasing it down, their faces lit with the carefree joy only kids that age seemed to have. Lando stopped for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips. The kids had been around a lot during his past visits, always in the background when he and Amelie had been close, but it had been a while since he’d seen them.

Carlota, the younger of the two, was clapping her hands and giggling, her blonde hair bouncing with every movement. Lando hesitated for a moment, wondering if she’d even recognize him.

He pushed those thoughts aside and approached, making his way toward the small group. He noticed Stella standing by, holding Emilio in her arms. The baby was sleeping peacefully, nestled against her chest, his small head resting against her shoulder.

Lando walked up to her, offering a polite smile. —Hey, Stella,— he greeted her, the words coming out more naturally than he expected, even though the last time they spoke had been under... tense circumstances.

Stella glanced up, offering him a small, controlled smile. She hadn’t exactly been warm toward him in the past after everything had gone down with Amelie, but these days, she was more neutral. Still, Lando could tell the coldness lingered beneath the surface, even if she was making an effort to be civil. He wasn't sure if it was for him or for the sake of their shared history.

—Lando,— Stella replied. —I didn’t expect to run into you here.—

Lando scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. —Yeah, just doing my track walk. Didn’t realize you were bringing the kids along today.—

Stella’s eyes softened as she looked down at her children. —They wanted to see the cars up close. And Checo’s busy with the team, so it’s easier for me to bring them out here.— She shifted Emilio slightly, her gaze briefly lingering on the baby’s peaceful face. —This one’s still pretty new to all of this.—

Lando smiled. —He’s adorable,— he said, his voice gentle. He hadn’t gotten the chance to meet Emilio yet, and seeing him now, so small and content in Stella’s arms, hit him with an unexpected sense of nostalgia.

Stella nodded, looking down at Emilio with pride. —He is. He’s been good so far, thankfully. Just... a little bundle of joy.—

Lando smiled faintly, his gaze lingering on the baby. It was hard not to feel a sense of longing when he saw how happy Emilio seemed in Stella’s arms. He had always admired how much Stella had evolved as a mother, the warmth that radiated from her when she spoke about her kids. It made him wonder about his own relationship with his family, his parents and siblings, who had always been supportive, but never quite as present as Checo’s.

He shifted his focus back to the other two children. Chequito and Carlota had found a new game, throwing the ball to each other with uncoordinated excitement. Carlota’s giggles filled the air, and Chequito’s efforts to keep the ball in play were met with a mix of frustration and amusement. The sight brought a soft chuckle from Lando.

—They're growing up fast, huh?— Lando commented, watching as Carlota stumbled over her own feet but managed to grab the ball.

Stella followed his gaze, her eyes softening. —Yeah, they are. Carlota’s the wild one, always getting into trouble. But Chequito... he’s such a little gentleman. They’re a handful, but they’re also a joy.— She looked down at Emilio again, and for a moment, her expression softened even more. —He’s a little more relaxed than these two ever were.—

Lando nodded in understanding. —He seems so peaceful. I bet it’s nice to have a quieter one for now. But... uh... Carlota, yeah, she’s definitely the mini version of someone.—

Stella’s brows raised slightly as she watched her daughter tumble and quickly recover. —Oh, don’t get me started, Lando. Every day she gets older, she’s literally a little Amelie in the making. The way she speaks, the attitude, everything. It’s... uncanny. Honestly, I keep thinking Amelie’s haunting me through her.—

Lando’s chest tightened at the mention of Amelie. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but the way Stella spoke about Carlota, about how she resembled Amelie, made his stomach flip. He had spent so much time thinking about the past with Amelie that he didn’t realize how much he’d subconsciously missed her family. Carlota’s loud, boisterous laughter—so familiar in the way it echoed off the walls—reminded him of better times, of when things were simple.

—Yeah... I can see it. She’s got that... spark, you know? Like Amelie had, too. I guess it runs in the family.—

The sudden voice of Chequito interrupted their conversation, his small hands tugging at Stella’s pant leg.

—Mum, I’m hungry!— he called out, his face scrunched in a dramatic pout.

Carlota immediately chimed in, her voice equally demanding. —Me too! Snacks, Mum! Snacks!—

Stella let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head in exasperation as she glanced down at both of them. —Alright, alright, I get it. You’re both hungry. But first, say hello to Lando.—

The two children looked up at Lando, their faces blank for a second, before they both simultaneously muttered a quiet and unconvincing, —Hi, Lando.—

Lando’s smile faltered slightly, but he hid it quickly, his heart sinking at the realization. It had been months since he’d last seen them, and the distance between them felt wider than ever.

Lando gave a small wave in response, not quite knowing what else to say. Stella smiled gently at her children. —Good, now we can go get snacks. We’ll head to the paddock club. Lando, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like.—

Lando hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to spend more time with Stella, but at the same time, he liked the idea of being around the kids. And if there was anyone who could make him forget about the weight of his own thoughts, it was Carlota and Chequito with their boundless energy. Plus, he’d always had a soft spot for Amelie’s family. Despite everything, they were still family to him in a way.

—Sure, I’ll join you,— he agreed, giving a casual nod. —It’s been a while since I’ve seen you all.—

Stella smiled warmly at him, a genuine friendliness in her voice. —It’s good to see you, Lando. I think the kids will be happy to have you there.—

The walk to the paddock was filled with the usual chatter of kids excited about snacks and cars. Lando fell into step beside Stella as they made their way toward the club, the sound of Chequito and Carlota’s voices occasionally ringing out behind them.

—So, how’s life been treating you?— Stella asked after a moment of silence, her tone polite but not overly familiar.

Lando shrugged, his gaze flickering toward the kids. —It’s been alright, you know. A lot of races, a lot of work, but... can’t complain. How about you? How’s everything going with Checo and the kids?—

Stella smiled, a fond look crossing her face as she glanced at her children. —It’s been crazy, but in a good way. Checo’s always busy with the team, but he’s a great father. The kids are adjusting to the new one; Emilio. They’re both really good with him, actually. A little too good sometimes, but that’s just sibling love.—

They reached the paddock club, where they found a quiet table near the window, giving the kids the view they craved. Carlota immediately climbed up into one of the chairs, looking around for snacks, while Chequito hovered near his mother, clearly having something important to say.

As soon as their food arrived, Lando barely had a chance to settle in before Chequito began the one topic Lando had been hoping to avoid: Amelie.

—Titina would’ve liked these snacks,— Chequito remarked, his voice full of certainty. —She always said the cheese ones were her favorite!—

Carlota quickly chimed in, her eyes bright as she remembered more. —Titina! She is so funny. She made us laugh all the time!— She threw a look at Lando, her face scrunched in concentration as she chewed her snack.

Lando’s stomach tightened at the mention of Amelie. The word Titina—the nickname the kids used for her—stung like a ghost from the past. He hadn’t expected them to bring her up, let alone so easily. It was almost like she was still here with them, lingering in every conversation, every moment.

Chequito’s voice broke through Lando’s thoughts. —Titina would have made us laugh even more with these! She always have the best jokes. She tell us stories, remember, Carlota? About the cats and the chickens!—

Carlota nodded vigorously, her mouth full of snack. —Titina always have the funniest stories. I miss her.—

Lando’s heart clenched. It was clear they missed her. And though the kids were still so young, they remembered her in such vivid ways, as if she had only just left. He couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang of regret, the weight of all those unanswered questions and the silence between him and Amelie.

Stella, noticing the shift in Lando’s expression, shot him an apologetic look. —Sorry about that, Lando. I know it’s not the easiest subject for you...— She shifted in her seat, clearly aware of the discomfort but unsure of how to ease it. —The kids love Amelie. She is really good with them, especially with Carlota. They miss her a lot.

Lando gave her a small, tight-lipped smile, nodding as he tried to push down the discomfort gnawing at him. —It’s fine, Stella,— he replied, though the weight of the words didn't make it any easier. —I’m sure they miss her a lot.—

Carlota, in her typical energetic fashion, leaned forward in her chair. —Titina always made us laugh! She told us about the time she had to teach a chicken how to swim!— She giggled as she mimicked the action, flapping her arms around for emphasis.

Lando couldn't help but chuckle at her antics. The memories of Amelie telling stories, making everyone laugh with her wild imagination, came rushing back. His heart squeezed at the thought, even though he did his best to hide it behind a smile.

Chequito, still serious in his observations, added, —Titina made everything funny. She is always happy. I think she would’ve liked this race a lot.—

Stella, noticing Lando’s deepening quiet, gently placed a hand on Carlota’s arm. —Alright, sweetie, let’s eat some more and save the stories for later, okay?—

Carlota nodded, still chewing happily, and Lando finally exhaled in relief. The conversation had taken a turn he hadn’t quite anticipated, and now he was left with the delicate task of navigating his feelings.

Before Lando could respond, Chequito suddenly stood up, his little legs wobbling as he tugged at Stella’s sleeve. —Mum, I need to go to the toilet!— he said urgently.

Stella sighed and stood, carefully adjusting Emilio in her arms. —Alright, Chequito. Hold on, I’ll take you. And I need to change Emilio’s diaper anyway. Lando, do you mind staying with Carlota for a bit?—

Lando blinked, slightly taken aback by the request. —Uh, yeah, sure,— he replied, glancing at Carlota, who seemed oblivious to the fact that her mother was leaving.

As Stella gathered the baby and guided Chequito away, Lando turned to Carlota. The little girl was already distracted by something on the table, her eyes wide with curiosity as she played with a piece of fruit.

For a moment, Lando just stared at her, trying not to think too much. But it was impossible.

Holy shit, she really was a mini-Amelie.

The resemblance was uncanny. From the way she tilted her head in concentration to the way she spoke with that playful, mischievous look in her eyes—everything about Carlota screamed Amelie. It was like looking at a younger version of her, and Lando’s heart skipped a beat as memories of better days flashed through his mind. The way Amelie used to laugh, her playful energy, her sharp wit—it was all there, in Carlota. The resemblance was so strong it made his head spin, and for a moment, he wondered if he’d ever get away from the memories of her, or if they would just haunt him forever.

He shifted in his seat, trying to distract himself, but his eyes kept drifting back to Carlota. Her bright green eyes—those damn green eyes—stared up at him with such intensity. It was as if she was silently daring him to acknowledge the truth, to admit that she was so much like her aunt.

Lando blinked a few times, trying to push the thoughts away. It wasn't fair to put all of this on a kid who didn't even understand the weight of it all. But damn, it was hard not to see Amelie in every little thing Carlota did.

—Are you okay, Lando?— Carlota asked, breaking his thoughts as she looked up at him, her voice small and curious.

Lando cleared his throat, forcing a smile. —Yeah, just... thinking. About how much you remind me of your aunt.—

Carlota's face lit up with a proud grin. —Really? Mum says I look like her a lot!—

—Yeah, you do,— Lando said softly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He couldn't help it. Carlota was practically Amelie’s mini-me.

She giggled, clearly enjoying the compliment, and Lando found himself smiling despite the weight in his chest. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much, but seeing Carlota, so full of life, with those same eyes, those same mannerisms—it just made everything about Amelie feel... real again. Like she was still a part of his life in some strange way.

They continued to chat for a while, the conversation light, with Lando doing his best to entertain Carlota as she asked him questions about racing, cars, and what it was like to go fast. It was hard to keep up the act, though, with his thoughts constantly circling back to Amelie.

Eventually, Stella returned, juggling Chequito and Emilio, who was now awake and making tiny, cooing sounds. She looked at Lando, a slight apology in her eyes.

—Sorry about that,— Stella said quietly as she settled back into her seat.

Lando cleared his throat, trying to shake off the unexpected wave of emotion that had flooded him when Carlota's face lit up with that same infectious energy Amelie had once had. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus on anything other than the way her eyes seemed to glimmer with the same mischievous spark he’d seen in Amelie a thousand times.

Carlota looked up at him, tilting her head slightly. —Lando, do you know how to make a chicken swim?— she asked, her expression so earnest it made Lando blink.

His lips parted in surprise, then he let out a breathy laugh, not sure whether he should be amused or slightly unnerved by how familiar she felt to him. It was like staring at a piece of the past, but twisted into something new.

—Uh, no, I don't know how to make a chicken swim,— he answered, his voice light, his words stumbling over the unexpected nostalgia that had hit him. —But I bet Amelie would have had a pretty wild explanation for it.—

Carlota grinned, a little too enthusiastically. —She did! She said she had to teach the chicken, and it was funny because the chicken didn’t like water! I think... it was like this big adventure!— She giggled, her hands mimicking a chicken flapping its wings.

Lando chuckled despite himself, the sound strange in his chest as his thoughts kept wandering back to Amelie. It felt surreal, sitting here with her niece, having a conversation that felt just like it could’ve been with Amelie herself. The way Carlota’s voice, full of excitement, bounced with the same tone Amelie had used in so many of their old conversations. It was almost like Amelie was there, just out of sight.

His gaze lingered on Carlota, unsure of how to navigate this strange, bittersweet moment. He didn’t want to feel this way. He didn’t want to let Carlota's innocence hit him so hard. She wasn’t Amelie. She was just a kid, full of life and curiosity, and yet, every movement, every word felt like a reflection of the woman he once knew.

Chequito’s voice broke through Lando's thoughts as he reentered the room, holding Stella's hand while his little brother, Emilio, snuggled against her chest.

—Carlota, we have to go soon!— Chequito said with urgency.

Stella smiled, walking over to the table with her kids. She handed Carlota a snack and gave Lando a small, appreciative look. —Thanks for keeping her entertained. I think we’ll head out now.—

Lando gave a slight nod, still trying to process the strange feeling that had settled in his chest. As he watched Stella gather the kids, he noticed Carlota stealing a glance at him, her curious green eyes wide as she chewed her snack.

For a second, Lando froze. The green eyes, the spark, the way she looked at him like she could see right through him—it was hauntingly familiar. Amelie’s eyes. Amelie’s gaze.

Stella picked up on his discomfort and quickly changed the subject. —We should get going, though. It’s a long day ahead.—

Lando nodded, finally letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. —Yeah, it was good catching up with you all. I’ll see you around.—

Stella smiled warmly, offering a soft goodbye. —Take care, Lando. The kids really enjoyed your company.—

As they walked away, Lando stayed rooted to the spot, his mind swirling in confusion. Carlota had left such a lasting impression on him. It felt like she had put a mirror up to his own soul, showing him a side of himself he hadn’t expected to confront today.

Carlota really was a mini Amelie.

And as much as he tried to push the thought away, it lingered in his mind, haunting him with every passing second.

Shit.

[lvlyghost]

Half My Soul: II

PAIRINGS: John Price x F!Reader

SUMMARY: The morning after John takes you home.

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

TW: smut, suggestive themes. john is the man we all deserve! descriptions of injuries. reader gets a tiny bit of background. mentions of abuse. comfort, fluff. think that's it. lmk if i missed any. mind the english!

A/N: i'm so very sorry for how long i made you wait! here's the final part. maybe i wasn't dealing with lack of inspiration it would've been longer, i even had planned another situation for this fic but oh well. i may turn it into a separate drabble. enjoy💕💫

Masterlist✨Part 1

John looks up from his phone when you walk in, he was about to take a sip from his tea mug. You're wearing one of his shirts that's nearly too big for your body. He likes it when you wear his clothes, not that he'd say it out loud. Not that it was the first time he had seen you wearing his shirts; the black hoodie he had insisted you could keep now ruined because of the blood and the lower part of the fabric that had been torn apart.

He clears his throat. Setting both the mug and mobile down.

"Sleep well?" He asks.

You hum in response.

"Too early to be awake if you ask me." John chuckles when you roll your eyes feigning annoyance.

He was far too good to you. Too good for your own sake. You didn't want to think of how inappropriate it was that you were at his apartment, wearing his clothes. Sleeping on his bed. It also didn't help that he was wearing just a pair of black sweatpants. This thing between the two of you whatever it was... made your stomach flutter and your heart warm when he looked at you the way he was right about now.

"There's coffee for you." He declares. "Know you don't fancy tea. A terrible mistake, may I add." There's a playful grin on his lips when you laugh. "How's your body?" His voice drops a few degrees. You know he's trying to be nonchalant about it but you know him. You know he's worried. Know that he hates the man who hurt you with all his being.

What you don't know is what he did as soon as he woke up. It took one more glance to your face and body. One glance to the bruises and scratches and he was climbing on his pickup truck. John knew the address. He had intended to have a civilized conversation with your father; after all you didn't want him to get hurt, despite him making your life a living hell. One thing led to another. A heated argument. Shouting and swearing. He couldn't let that monster speak about you the way he did. A staring contest. Hands pushing the other. And then there where punches being thrown. He didn't care if he was a former ranger back in the states. There was no real pride in what he did. Fuck him. He was glad he got discharged from the military. He gave soldiers a bad name. He was a blemish in everything they stood for.

"My eye's not swollen anymore. That steak really came in handy." You joke remembering the night before, when you both got to his home. And John wants to laugh, he's aware you're trying to joke about it. To brush it off like it meant nothing. Why were you such a beautiful person? No one deserved you. "Really John? The mug's on the top shelf!" You sigh, standing on your tiptoes stretching as much as you can but only had managed to graze the cabinet door to open it.

John snorts at the sight of you trying to reach it, so he stands from the stool and gently pats your shoulder, giving you a soft squeeze as he reaches out for it without effort and placing it in your hand.

"You made it look like it was hard, love. Was starting to think if I could do it myself."

You hit his arm in a playful manner making him chuckle.

"Thank you John." You murmur. He staring down at you intently. Like there was nothing else in the world to him.

"It's just a..."

"I mean for everything." You interrupt him. At first you hesitate but end up grazing his fingers until you take his hand in yours. It's warm and bigger than yours, it swallows your own entirely. Both of you stop breathing when the silence settles. Outside the sky is cloudy, rain threatening to pour down anytime soon.

"Lovely." He mutters.

"What?"

"You, love. Just you."

Something shifts in the air after those words. John and you... had been holding back each other's feelings. You more than him. He wasn't fighting them anymore and neither were you. Who were you lying to?

Just yourself. The man cared for you like no one else did. He pours some coffee in your cup with his eyes set on you all the time, even when you take a sip and place it back on the kitchen counter. "Want me to check your wounds?" He asks, but you're not listening anymore. You're lost in the deep sea that his eyes are. In the way he cleaned up your wounds yesterday. Something you had done to him many, many times before. Lost in the moment when he saw your deteriorating state last night, the anger that sparked in his blue eyes. You inhale deeply, the smell of his cologne and cigars.

John shifts his weight from one foot to another. You were staring in silence. He wonders if you're regretting accepting his invitation to his home. God knows that if you decided to leave that would be the end of him.

Why were you so silent all of the sudden? Had he made a mistake?

Bloody hell.

"No need for that John. I just need you."

And you grab him by the back of his neck pulling him down for a gentle kiss. His strong arms wrap around your waist pulling you closer until your bodies are pressed together. His lips are soft and mouth warm, you wish you could do more... maybe you can.

"Y'know how long I've waited for this?" He asks, voice raspy. A small kiss on your nose. His eyes are bright and adoringly watching you. "If I could stay like this forever..."

He kisses you again and lifts you up so your legs immediately wrap around his waist. John handles your body with so much care it makes your heart flutter, he avoids touching where the bruises are more prominent on your abdomen as he walks barefooted to the living room.

John lays both of you slowly onto the couch so that you're straddling his lap and he gives you the most gentle squeeze on your hip while his other hand tuck back a strand of hair behind your ear. It's a silent ask. A silent plea.

Do I have you permission? Can I make you mine?

And you nod. You kiss him again. Hard and hungrily. Biting down his lips. You too have waited for this. All the pent up desire that's been building over months. The longing stares, the casual touches. It's all led to this very moment where your—his— shirt get tossed to the floor, his pants don't make it all the way down and your underwear is merely pushed aside. The embarrassing amount of slick that coats your folds when John slides his fingers up and down your cunt making you gasp. His hands already making wonders that your own could never. Or the sight of his sheer size; he's big, you wonder if he'll even fit all the way, so he prepares you. Fingers slip in and out, limbs trembling as he works you through your climax and orgasm. Makes you forget about everything, about not being cared for before about all the pain that was your life before he showed up with his acts of service and unyielding protection. No one ever truly cared for you the way John did. No man could ever come close to him.

"John..." you moan his name, lips parted. "Please."

He wastes no time and he's finally sliding inside you. Blue eyes never leaving yours. And he's fucked. He has been for a long time, the moment he saw you. The first time you smiled at him.

His body shudders at the sensation of you swallowing him whole, not being able to think of anything else than being consumed by the woman on top of him. He wants you not just for today but for eternity. Another heated kiss when you're both nearing the end. A muttered promise to love you, a lone tear and soft graze of his hands as you come undone.

Falling apart together, deep breaths and mumbles of soft nothings into each other's arms. You trace his lips as he tries to even his ragged breathing. The faintest sheen of sweat that pearls his body.

"This isn't so bad."

John smirks.

"Not at all, love. Not at all."

[thebottomfromhell]

In a scenario where the reader is a hashira, what do you think would happen to him if his relationship with a demon was discovered. I know you wrote something along those lines where the reader was someone ordinary. The Hashiras, in the original work, are mostly nice, but they are very strict-minded about demons, so I wonder what their reaction would be if one of their own basically "betrayed" them. If you think it's going to be very similar, you can just ignore it or just say what you think would happen, without it necessarily being a story. I would appreciate it just the same

The Hashira request I like, the one where we treat them as the corporation of hunters they are instead of the avengers! I usually don't like making reader a Hashira, since I like to make it relatable to most, and let's be honest, the power fantasy is nice but most wouldn't live past Kanoe XD. Besides, it's funnier to make powerless MC's who need constant saving. But once or twice can't hurt.

The Hashira will refer to reader as L/N, as Last Name. Like last time it won't specify gender nor who's Uppermoon reader is with. One difference would be that as a civilian, last time reader only knew about the corps due being warned by their couple, hence only saw them as a bounch of psychos, here they will be more aware of certain things.

Hashira find out Hashira!GN Reader has a relationship with an Upper Moon

Warnings: Manga spoilers, Torture (Mostly non-physical, and the ones ññ, Excesive violence, Mutilation, Mentioned non-consented drug use, Mention of character's death, Implied sexual content, Suicidal character with survival guilt (Giyuu) and Open ending.

You became a Hashira to save others, you were told sometimes you were someone that loves too much, even for this line of work, specially for this line of work. In your ranking, most of everyone is civil to each other (depending on your definition of civil), but there is at least a level of trust. But not the tradiotional trust of sharing your burdens or being able to do things together, every Hashira prefers to work without the others, but trust that everyone else will do their job and kill every demon they meet or die trying.

That is exactly the trust you broke, so everyone is angry, upset and thirsty for blood. Most Hashira think positive things about each other, you also had only good things to say when asked, but now? After all that conversations you had with your lover about the inferiority of humanity, that they are pests, barbaric, backstabbers, a necessary evil... you have to wonder. After they caged you without any warning or mercy, sending Kocho and Shinazugawa for you, ending up beated and drugged.... you wonder. You just wonder.

Is it actually right?

The fellow Hashira could have at least confronted you out of the sake of the this fellowship, you could recieve visits from someone that isn't Kocho, drugging you for the sake of being easier to handle for the kakushi. And not only she drugs you, she always makes sure to remind you of your situation. To shame you, to taunt you, to hurt you. "Ara ara, aren't you eager to move? This is the second time I have to drug you today. You should really give a slack to the kakushi, they are just trying to do their job. But again, considering what you did, I must really question if you care about the efforts of the people in the corps." She says smiling, even if your blurred vision doesn't let you see it clearly, you can tell by her tone. Shinobu spits poison so cafefully with every word. Because she hates you. "You know? A mere civilian or commoner would have a an excuse. The don't know the level of sacrifice we have made, the pain the demons have caused. You? You did. And you had one job, the same as us. To stop that pain or die trying, you should have done the later."

You know about Kanae. You were never told about the demon who killed her nor the details, but it's almost (Tokito...) impossible to be a Hashira and NOT know about her death on the hands of demons. You knew, know that most Hashira have lost something to demons, and yet you decided to get close to one. Close enough to become lovers. But... it was right, at the time. The gentle touches, the vulnerable moments, the softness. The beatings inside your chest, the warmness in your face, that lightness in that voice... you are in love. And that Uppermoon is too, or else you would be dead, like everyone seems to wish you were, already.

You have too much free time in your thoughts, since you are tied up in a way you can't move any of your limbs and struggling cut's your circulation, kept in a dark room, when light and noise only appear when the Kakushi are told to feed you, once a day at most. You have no idea if they were told to do it that way or they are only scared to face a "renegade Hashira" or whatever they call you when you can't hear them. Your body is sore, it has been for the longest time, and you feel constantly sick due Kocho's drugs. Dizzy, tired, too hot, wanting to throw out when anything touches your throat, and even after hours the needles stings remains in wherever she managed to shot you. You also never healed your leg when fighting Shinazugawa, at lealt not properly. You can still feel empty tissues and the bone in your thigh stabbing the flesh, with smaller piece stuck. Your nose is also broken, making you need to breath through the mouth. The only thing Kocho actually tended was a cut through your hand, so you don't die from the blood loss.

You still remember grabbing the tilt of your sword to protect yourself, only to have all of the digits cut out of the hand, keeping in each different fractions, but all of the without the tips. At first there was a fast and intense sting, similar to a burning senssation as your katana started to fall from your grip, then, for a second, a coldness that was at worst, annoying, some sort of emptyness. Finally, when the realization sink there was pain in your pulsating fingers, mixing a lasting feeling of both previous ones, fighting to be the dominant one. You still can feel, on a lesser extent, all the time, those sensations.

It takes a lot for you to not go mad with the lack of contact with everything, and that sensation of being ill. Part of you wonders if your beloved will save you, if any other Hashira will speak to at least let you defend yourself in vain. Every day it becomes less of a reality, which adds resentment. Part of you tells you that you were the one to betray them first, another that longs that sweet voice and touches angers, wanting nothing to get out, to go somewhere safe, with the demon you love. "My sister and my best friend were killed by demons..." One day you suddenly feel a voice besides you... Tomioka. He is giving you his back, speaking only high enough so you can make up what he is saying. "So I really hate them... how... how were you able to love such a monster, knowing well what others suffered because of them?"

You don't know the answer, you can't even speak coherently due the drugs on your system. That is a question you asked yourself so much, thinking that if you didn't fall like that, you wouldn't be in this situation... but... "Sp-cil.... hom.... looovd...." you wonder if the silence means resignation or understanding, but you are glad to have someone close. "You will not be forgiven... there is someone that might, but... he is not here right now, and seeing the situation is probably for the best. I'm sorry." You... honestly can't understand it. That is why you curse Tomioka after he leaves, even if he was the only one willing to listen to you. That feeling only gets worse when you realize he is not in your "trial", he didn't go. The others, as always were neither fast to condemn him or dismiss him because of it, but besides some of them changing the subject, nobody came to his defense. Like you have already realized nobody is comming for yours.

You don't listen when Oyakata-sama speaks, is your attention lacking or he is just talking too low due being sick? None the less you just watch the others. Tokito is there, you want to trash out, but are still drugged and tied up, at the fact the child is here. That is child is going to see you being excecuted... but does it make a difference, this child has killed even more powerful demons than you, and you has never seem to care. Is it really that different to see a human die than a demon? Because everyone else seems so eager to see you die as one. You wouldn't know, you never wished death upon any specific human nor killed any. Yes, sometimes you curse some more anstract subjects, like people who hurt others, some criminals, and so, but you have never talked to anyone and wished you could kill them.

Every Hashira seems obsessed with death in one way or another, even if it's only to avoid it like Mitsuri, who is crearly sobbing and trying to keep it down. "Where is Tomioka? We shouldn't start without him!" Asks Rengoku impossible to not hear him, even in your state, but you know that he isn't comming probably asked permission for it. Damn him, that coward. You can also basically hear the scoffs from Shinazugawa and Obanai. After some seconds you feel the Serpent Hashira stab your shoulder with that irregula blade, making the cut difficult ans uneven, not covering the bleeding at all. "Obanai! Stop! Do not let your anger cloud your judgement!" Himejima acrually screams, and Obanai is close enough for you to hear and see him decently.

There is also a significant, loud, growing hatred in his eyes. Being any other situation you would tease that it's because you made Kanroji cry, but you know better. It's because he trusted you to kill demons and die trying, and you didn't. Come to think about it, it's an unfair standard to hold against anyone. What about those who had someone to go hone to? What about those too young to die? What about those who have a bright future ahead? Is everyone expected to? "My judgement?! What about L/N's judgement! This level of treason is unforgivable! It deserves more than a quick death! I apologize, Oyakata-sama, but I can't accept your desition!" Kanroji only cries harder at the time she speaks. "NO! NO! Y/N-SAN IS STILL OUR FRIEND! WE SHOULD AT LEAST MAKE IT AS PAINLESS AS POSSIBLE!"

"OUR FRIEND? A FRIEND DOESN'T GO AND SLEEP WITH THE ENEMY! IF L/N SIDES WITH THE ENEMY THEN WE TREAT THEM AS SUCH!" Shinazugawa screams at her, moving her direction angrily, so both Kocho and Rengoku put themself in between. You can't hear what Kocho says, but you can definetely make up what Rengoku does. "Shinazugawa! I understand your anger! This betrayal woould never go unpunished! But if we torture and rip L/N as we pleasw we won't be better than demons! We must answer with humanity!"

There is arguing, a lot of noise, Himejima and Tokito-kun are the only ones that are not with to it, besides the big boss who will only let them cool down by themselves, but you don't know that because you can make any voice out of the sounds, but because you know them. You know them... You spoke with them, shared meals and stories with some, worked with them... you know them, and they know you. And still, they will be the ones to kill you as long as they sort their shit out before you bleed to death.

"SILENCE! THIS IS SO UNFLASHY, WE SHOULD NOT BE GOING AGAINST EACH OTHER AFTER SUCH AN EVENT. We are already too on edge for this treason, we we can handle it. We should not be losing trust on each other!" Suddenly screams Uzui as he takes out his weapons, unecesaryly moving them for show, having the blades surrounding his torso, arms and shoulders without a single scratch on him. "I should be the one who deals with this. I know how to make it fast." He gets close to you as your vision becomes even more blured, to the point everything is red. Not black yet, you can basically see your eyelids and your own blood on the ground. You feel cold, trembling violently, you are pain, wanting to throw up your empty, tight and twisted stomach, feeling as if your organs will leave your body through the mouth the second you give into that urge. You pant, having a hard time breathing, every muscles is sore and protests... You are scared.

You swore that was what forced you to stay awake, even after loosing so much blood, but then... "Well, isn't this sad?" You hear a voice loud and clear, masculine. One that you have never heard before but still edges you. Your heart beats faster and normally you would worry about what that would mean something for the bloodloss, but... you don't feel like you are loosing blood, on the contrary, you feel more. "To be honest, I didn't notice at first you had my blood in your system, but now that you are weak, loosing the liquids of your body, the few drops you had inside are taking over. I won't pretend I don't know about your... intimacy with one of my powerful demons, but let me tell you this. It can save you."

You.... can be saved? You want to be saved, you have no idea where Uzui is, if he is near and ready to make the last blow or the arguing is stopping him. "You see, right now I can speak with you, share myself, but I can't take any look in your mind. But if you were to say where you are, I will gladly save you. Just tell where where are the ones who hurt you, and I'll even reward you with more blood. Don't you think it's a winning deal for you?" You cal sell out everyone for your own survival. Do you actually want them to die? To be killed. You feel suddenly a bit better, as the demon cells fight off the drugs.

You take air into your lungs softly and-

Tomioka Giyuu is in his home. He didn't want to be part of this. For now he doesn't want to think about it, the fact that one day he might take your place for not killing that demon girl. Urokodaki sends him letters of Kamado Tanjiro's process, the boy sends him his own letters too. He reads them all. Right now he has a brush in his hands, wondering if he should answer. He is tempted to write back, congratulate him, tell him he is doing good, to take care of himself and his sister, or at least to warn him about some difficulties he might face.

He can't. He doesn't want to get attached, no matter how nice and lovely the boy is, of how much he reminds him of himself when younger, except Tanjiro has more talent and is more capable that he was at his age. He will make a great water Hashira, far better than him. But for that Tomioka can't risk the others undermining his judgement by defending you. He didn't know if he would or not, and he didn't want to find out. Right now, that important thing is to ensure that the boy will take his place, and that means taking his distance too. Because everyone that Giyuu has ever held so dear into his heart dies. His sister and Sabito.... and even if you too were not close, not really friend... but still.

"It shoukd have been me." Is the only thing he can think as he sets the brush aside, not having written anything, and saving the letters carefully in a box. Then, just silence.

It doesn't matter anymore.

[twothpaste]

Showing (as opposed to Telling) how much 2 characters respect & cherish & care for each other is one of my fav things to write. like a little silent gesture of support. or remembering fond stories about times they spent together. or teasing in a way that they know will prompt laughter instead of hurt feelings, implying they've learned the nuances of each other's boundaries. i love tryin to see how bigly i can convey deep affection without dropping phrases like "she cared about him" in prose or "i love you" in dialogue (except for rare & special occasions where i think it hits harder). and i'm really used to writing characters (especially siblings) who love each other simply and obviously. so i get to weave in lots of sappy little moments like this. it's fun, and sweet, and i like it :'D

porky & agnes are complicated because the unconditional familial love is there - it's there despite them both knowing better and it hurts like hell - but there's so many layers of strain and distance and trauma between them that neither can say so. they can't let themselves think it, so i have to tiptoe carefully around it in the prose. they can hardly even show it, except just by the mere fact they chose to be present with each other at all. throughout their conversation they both make lots of little sacrifices & concessions for the other's sake, and it's kind of up in the air whether these are strategic ploys to keep things civil, or expressions of genuine care. they're holding this tense unspoken truce that whispers "i care about you whether i want to or not. we suffered a lot together. i understand why you've done the things you've done. you and i did deserve better." but that love is not enough to save them - least of all porky - on its own. and they both know it. even though by now they know how to maintain surface level courtesy like grownups, there's a thick air of mistrust and guilt and pity hanging over the whole thing.......

(and on top of all that, porky's still just inherently an asshole. so he has to strain against his bad impulses & insecurities constantly in order to maintain the conversation. which is probably the effort that best shows how much he cares about his sister - hell, it's almost selfless! that's a huge deal for him!! but it doesn't really look like love or kindness, cuz he's so gnashed up and bitter on the inside 🥲)

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 9 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near-death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

(also on AO3 here)

Steve POV continued

“Sorry.” Lying in his bunk in the gloomy cabin, Steve drags his fingers miserably across his eyes. How freakin’ embarrassing—mistaking his best friend for his parents. “Still dreaming, I guess.”

“How do you feel?” asks Robin.

“Oh, peachy! How d’ya think?” He’s beyond tired of feeling this crappy. What the hell happened this time?

Oh yes. He and Eddie kissed, and then…

“Okay, bad news first,” she says, perching on the bed. “You bled through your bandages again. Got all sweaty and yuck.” He knows this already—from the gnaw in his side, and how he’s sticking to the lumpy mattress. “Good news? The bleeding stopped. The really juicy news—we have a theory about what might fix you.”

She spouts a load of stuff about the water from Lover’s Lake giving him some kind of vaguely defined power. And Eddie sucking it out of him?

He snickers. “Did you get that crackpot theory out of the ‘The Weekly Watcher?’”

“Come on, Steve, this is way beyond a shot-in-the-dark.” He rolls his eyes. Even though he sort of agrees with her. “We need to test the theory. Eddie’s gone to fetch lake water.”

“He’s gone back to Hawkins? Is he out of his mind?” He can’t spare the energy to worry about Eddie. He still does, and it makes him feel worse.

“You all right?” asks Robin. “You’ve gone… kinda gray.”

Yeah, feeling kinda gray. He stops scowling, simply because it’s too much effort. “Is there any non-Fairyland water in this shit-hole?”

“There’s a pump.”

After he’s had a drink and splashed his face, he feels… not much better, actually. He slumps back onto the pillow with a hard sigh. “Robin, I wish it was just us, stuck in this together. You're literally the only person in my life where there’s, like, almost zero tension. I mean, we bitch at each other and all—”

“Never!” she snarks.

“Haha, point taken. It’s about nothing that ever matters, though. I know.... You'll... You know, we’ll…”

“Always be there for each other? I sure hope so.” There’s a quiver in her voice that alarms him.

“You still think one of us might not make it this time?”

“No! I mean... We've gotten through that part, haven't we?”

Sure doesn’t feel like it from here. 

“Listen,” she says, “it doesn’t have to be tense or cringy between you and Eddie, just because you like each other.”

“Yeah, right. We kissed. I passed out! Not cool.”

“Like he’s gonna hold that against you.” She squeezes his arm. He stares at her chipped nail polish, battling a fresh assault from his candy-ass emotions. “As per ever, dates keep belly-flopping into your lap! When we get through this, I swear I'm gonna slap you for—”

An owl hoot interrupts her. She scuttles to the window, crouches down and peeps out. “It’s okay,” she hisses, “It’s Eddie.”

“Your signal is an owl noise? It’s the middle of the goddamn day! Why don’t you wait till dark and send up fireworks?”

Steve grumbles for the sake of it. On the other hand, he wasn’t lying to Robin. He really doesn’t want to handle Eddie right now. He turns his face to the pillow, muffles his ears with the blanket. Someone prods him. “Steve,” says Robin. “We’ve got the lake water.”

He rolls over. Eddie’s there, brandishing a plastic bottle of clouded liquid. He fixes on Robin. “You want me to drink that shit?”

“Not unless you want to die of what half the soldiers in the Civil War did,” says Robin.

Steve shares a moment of bafflement with Eddie. “How am I gonna get shot drinking lake water?”

“They died of dysentery, Dingus! You literally did nothing in history other than crack moronic jokes and eat breakfast, did you?”

“Whatever,” mumbles Steve. He’s not sure what dysentery is. Sounds sucky. “What are we supposed to do with it, super-brain?”

“Erm, try pouring it.” Robin peels off the freshly bloodied bandages from Steve’s side, grimacing as dramatically as ever. “To be fair, this is disgusting and almost as risky. If nothing good happens, though, we can wipe it off. Yay!”

She drips on the water. For a split second, it’s ice-cold, and he hisses. “Ow… Jesus, Robin!”  

“Sorry.”

“Nothing’s happening,” he says. “Oh, hold on. Gnnng, no, no, no, no, no!” 

Steve’s flesh and blood blend into pink froth, sizzling like he’s been doused in boiling chip fat. Robin jolts backward; Steve whimpers, helpless to stop himself. Eddie, meanwhile, grabs Steve’s hand, as the unbearable scalding subsides into a strong but tolerable itch. Steve inhales raggedly, lifts his head to confirm that the bat bites have knitted again, leaving a wet mess of red puckered marks and scars.

“I guess that could’ve gone worse.” Eddie sounds spooked.

“Could’ve gone worse? It hurt like… What just happened? WHAT JUST HAPPENED?” Steve’s got a crazy urge to scream… no… run! Pushing himself up onto his elbows takes everything he’s got. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“Ssssh, it’s okay.” Robin’s now gotten her arms around him, and Eddie’s still holding his hand. “This proves that it’s the water. You’re not flayed, or Vecnad, or Henryd or whatever. Eddie and I discussed it and—”

“What!?!” Steve wriggles free and laughs, because this is hysterical. “You discussed that without including me?”

“We never believed you’d been taken by the dark side,” says Robin, her hand on her breast. “I swear!”

“That’s not the… Ow!”

“Does it still hurt?” asks Robin.

Steve stares daggers at Eddie: “Can you quit crushing my fingers already?”

“Sorry.” Eddie drops Steve’s hand, a little too keenly—leaving Steve oddly desolate, despite his request. Other than that, he does feel better.

And grouchier than ever.

Half an hour later, he’s well enough to get up. He washes himself down at the pump, attempts to salvage his hair, then joins the others in preparing a baked-bean and banana supper. He argues forcefully that both parts can be served together, and it will taste awesome.

Which they do.

Ignoring Robin’s advice, he sips a bottle of bad beer. Eddie is clad in a clean Hellfire Club t-shirt—given to him by Henderson—and regales them with news from Hawkins. This proves depressing, given that Eleven and Hopper are now outlaws too. Then they chat about what hiding places they might move onto next.

“We’re not quite as remote as we thought here,” says Robin. “I found a track that leads pretty close, and you could probably get an off-roader all the way to the camp.” She glances at Steve. “We need somewhere really tucked away, and maybe closer to Lover’s Lake, right?”

“Why are you asking me?” he snaps. “You two seem to have all the answers. I haven’t a clue.”

Steve crawls into his bunk first. For once, sleep doesn’t clobber him instantly. Despite what he said to Robin, he has got theories—stupid though they seem—about the lake, and that time he nearly drowned in it.

He should’ve been terrified of swimming after that. He never was. Plus, he’s been dreaming about that period of his life lately. Dreaming about it a LOT, now he thinks about it.

After a while, he gets sick of his churning thoughts and sits up. Moonlight streaks through one of the high bunk room windows, revealing that Eddie is awake too, cross-legged on the floor. He’s muttering to himself, fiddling with his hair, then his hands. 

On spotting Steve staring at him, he presses a finger to his lips, picks up a flashlight, and motions toward the door. Steve pulls on a sweater and follows him outside. It’s a dry night. Banks of bruise-brown clouds semi-obscure a near full moon and a few hazy stars. It’s cool too, though Steve’s palms are getting clammy.

He tracks Eddie into a nearby cabin, filled with a ton of old rope and lumber-hauling equipment. He then remembers he’s annoyed, and folds his arms.

“Totally love how you two went behind my back and discussed whether I was flayed or not.”

Eddie plonks down the flashlight. “Kinda obvious that we had to. We didn’t tell you, because we didn’t want to stress you out, and… honestly? We never bought it. Dustin was highly sceptical—”

“You discussed me with Henderson too? That’s great!” Steve plants his hands on his hips, growing too hot and bothered to think straight: “Maybe you’re ALL idiots. Maybe I am somehow flayed! Right at the start, that Upside Down thing came through my pool. Possibly. To take Barb. Now the water from near a gate fixes me and—“

“And I make you fix me!” Eddie’s preening grin is vicious. “Perhaps I’m the source of the magical shitstorm? Did that ever cross your egotistical rich-brat mind, Harrington?”

Eddie might as well have punched him. Steve’s still reeling from the blow, when Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose:

“Look, I’m sorry, man,” mutters Eddie. “I’m pretty stressed, too. Dustin was telling me about how you got sick whenever you left Hawkins as a kid, and—"

“Wow! Good job I’m an EGOTISTICAL BRAT, because I really am a hot topic! Did Nance reel off an article for the Hawkins Post?”

“Uh, Steve?” Eddie takes a step closer then abruptly pulls short. “I apologised, okay? Why exactly are we arguing about this?”

“I… Oh Christ, Eddie, I honestly don’t know.”

Steve’s shoulders slump. How excruciatingly typical! That little egg-head Dustin had a hunch about something that’s only just occurring to Steve, and which… Shit, the whispers in his mind are scary.

This is where you come clean, Harrington. This is where you say: "I almost drowned in that lake in 1978. What if it wasn't 'almost?' What if I died back then, at eleven years old. What if something or someone in that water brought me back, and for good or evil, it's still got a hold of me?"

Does it make any sense? Would Eddie simply think him egotistical again, or stupid? Suddenly, all he wants is to forget the whole wide world, especially the freaky parts. Everything apart from… 

…Eddie.

Who is hunching awkwardly away from Steve, palpably scared to get too near, let alone touch him. The naked longing in those gorgeous brown eyes, however, is reassuring. 

“Look, I'm sorry too.” Steve licks dry lips. “I’ve been a complete asshole today, I know. It’s just… What happened when we kissed is so humiliating.”

“Why? It’s not your fault. Believe me, Stevie, I’d kiss you again in a heartbeat, if it wasn’t for… uh…”

Eddie’s adorable blushes and the silly pet name are invitation enough. Steve closes the gap between them, leans in and whispers:

“You win. Maybe we shouldn’t kiss again till we’ve figured out exactly what’s going on, but… C’mon, man, you’ve touched me plenty without any bad repercussions. I slept in your lap.” We freakin’ spooned! “There’s gotta be something fun we can do.” 

Eddie shakes his head, squirming hilariously. “You take a turn for the worse, papa bear will rip my guts out.”

“What are you talking ab… Oh, Robin? Seriously?”

“Look, I really don’t want to hurt you.”  Steve’s chest pangs, because this could be a brush off. 

Or it might not be.

“C’mon, Munson. Promise I’m not gonna break.” At that, a dirty little smile plays on Eddie’s mouth, which sends sparks through Steve’s veins. “What you thinking?”

The smile evolves into a filthy laugh. “All right, before you get out the thumb-screws—I used to have this fantasy about you. It’s totally messed-up, kinda kinky. I wouldn’t expect you to be up for it, even if we didn’t have our current, uh, issues.”

“Oh!” To be fair, Eddie is right. Steve has never been into kinky shit. That said, before this guy hijacked his heart, he’s never salivated at the mere thought of tattoos. “Um, try me?”

Eddie husks his little scenario into Steve’s ear, and Steve decides he’s totally game. 

“It’s a kook-ball daydream,” says Eddie. “We shouldn’t really—"

“You wanna tie me up, Munson? We got plenty of rope a night to kill.” He slinks his arms up and under Eddie’s t-shirt. “Let’s do this.”

Part 10

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10 Part 11

[actualbird]

on marius' personal sweet chapter stories.....i just wanna talk about The Thing these stories (both sweet chapter story 1 and 2) are Doing and how it makes me really emotional cuz like

in marius' sweet chapter 1 story: we see marius and mc help out timmy through his grief of having recently lost his older brother. throughout the entire thing, marius struggles with his own emotions and feelings about giann's disappearance.

in marius' sweet chapter 2 story: we see that in marius' efforts to protect pax and the von hagen name so that giann will have a good standing to return to once he's found, marius finds himself inevitably having a hand in firing kenji, who takes the fall protect marius. kenji, whom marius sees as an older brother figure to him as well.

whats going on in both these stories: marius' emotions and fears being prodded at, even to the point of intense anger in sweet chapter 2, because the events make him go through whats essentially a secondhand experience of losing a brother.

in terms of this possibly being foreshadowing, i feel very "ONE FEAR" about it all because it's uhhhhh not looking good for giann von hagen ;-;

but in terms of characterization and story, i feel elated because it's these kinds of stories that really show off marius' character, especially the traits and feelings that he tries to hide or sweep under the rug.

in sweet chapter 1, marius consistently brushes off mc worrying about his feelings and then, once he does finally talk about his feelings, he does so in a very emotionally detached kind of way (i wrote more in depth about marius and emotional distancing in this analysis here).

to emotionally distance one's self is, one way or another, a method by which to avoid confronting something head on. timmy's experience paralleling marius' own worries and life is something that marius is afraid of tackling. because thats family hes talking about. and family means the world to him.

in sweet chapter 2, the revelation that kenji did what he did to protect marius got marius absolutely enraged the moment it became clear kenji, an older brother figure to marius, sacrificed himself for marius' sake. thats something that terrifying for marius, because thats not how it's supposed to go, for him. hes the one whos supposed to be protecting people, to shoulder the responsibility so others can get out unscathed, hes the one who needs to take on these burdens not because of pride or anything, but because he wants people to stop getting hurt because of him.

other people getting hurt for marius' sake is one of marius' biggest fears. it pops up so often in all his stories, either the fear itself and/or the measures he takes to prevent other people getting hurt: his childhood guilt over thinking he caused his mother's death (SSR All Through The Night), him moving to florence for his studie so that austin and giann wouldnt get bad press about the whole pax civil war succession thing (SSR Precious Mornings), him worried about causing a man's suicide (SSR Daytime Aurora), him guilty over his friend who got hurt in his name (SR Vibrant Graffiti) like my god, and those are just the ones off the top of my head!!!!

he even says this outright in the story, right after the confrontation with kenji

to marius, kenji taking the fall for him is another person who got hurt because of him. and the fact that he did it willingly to protect marius makes it worse, because thats such an older brother thing to do isnt it? marius saw him as family. family means the world to him.

but marius did not want to be the cause for another person having to suffer, and for another person having to be gone, in a way.

sweet chapter 1 showed us grief from the perspective of a younger brother whose older brother passed away.

sweet chapter 2 showed us an older brother sacrificing himself for a younger brother and having to leave because of that.

now remember what i said about secondhand experiences paralleling onto marius' life and his own worries about giann? yeah. like, no wonder marius got so affected, upset, and emotional in both these stories;

he doesnt want to say goodbye.

[zanukavat]

OOOO OP DROP RICK AND MORTY OCS

OH BOY HERE WE GO.

so, I made these cute ref sheets in the shows style yesterday (and today), apologies if you cant decipher my scribbly handwriting, ill summarize below:

Rick (nicknamed on the citadel "Seven")

Rick's home dimension is M-121.5 but you could hardly call it a home. He left his Diane and Beth behind shortly after acquiring portal technology from Prime or one of his subordinate Ricks, wandering off to absorb himself in the vastness of infinity.

His original dimension never ended up birthing a Morty, since his Beth and Jerry had trouble supporting themselves and had Summer as their only child.

Rick, eventually growing lonely but refusing to admit it, joins the citadel in an effort to be useful and climb the ranks there with the hopes of living a fulfilling life in a safe, Rick-made bubble. He gets assigned a Morty as standard, but said Morty dies in combat on a riot not too shortly after.

Rick gets a (small) punishment, one you'd get for breaking a doorknob or forgetting to turn off the lights in the building before you leave; getting a Morty killed. He probably just has to scrub toilets for a week or something.

He gets his new Morty and resumes work on the teleportation deck as normal and lives with his Morty in a small apartment, until S301 where they manage to flee the citadel together.

Morty ("unlucky charm" / other similar insults behind his back)

Has forgotten his original dimensional code due to constant changes of ownership. Only the Morty databanks know it now. He took M-121.5's dimension as his and carries a small wristband with the code written on it.

This Morty has gone through a LOT of Ricks. Six in fact, which is why his new Rick is mockingly called "Seven" by others on the citadel, making fun of him for ending up with such a shitty excuse of a Morty. Asking him if he'd lost a bet.

Morty's left arm has been surgically altered to fit a tracker interface that'll show Rick's current position and vitals to Morty. Though he only gets this later, after they flee the citadel.

The jacket he is wearing was originally merchandise stolen from a small shop he worked in while living on the citadel. They later add patches to it in an effort to cover up the citadel logo, since Morty doesn't want to give up the jacket, and Rick is paranoid about association with the citadel after they've fled. Pretty rich coming from the guy still wearing his uniform under a stinky coat, but what can you do when those are the only clothes you've got.

They go through an intense period of struggling for survival, with the Federation collapse and chaos left behind, the two of them retreat to more desolate spots of the universe to wait for the dust to settle. After a bit of "holy shit we lived" euphoria, they fight a lot, with Rick slowly noticing the many flaws in this Morty he is now -- in his assumption -- forever stuck with. He also pushes Morty too far numerous times but reels him back in again anytime because what other option is there? Being stranded alone in an asteroid gas station restaurant?

Eventually Morty suggests returning to "their" home dimension. Rick's home dimension. He's reluctant but eventually (after a really long while and lots of convincing) does give in since their circumstances are dire and they could use a little civilization, even if it means returning to the family he abandoned.

I don't have much worked out for this Smith family, but I'd assume Summer is a good deal different from the Summer we know, due to being an only child. Beth's daddy issues are just as intense as Beth Prime.

This Beth and Jerry probably also never end up divorced and stay together for Summer's sake, honestly probably unhealthier than just splitting up for the time being and working out their issues separately.

Once they crash (probably literally) into their new "home" and everybody gets over the initial insanity of the situation, Rick struggles to confront the reasons he left and kind of just drowns himself in unhealthy habits. Besides the known drinking issues which is kind of the baseline, he makes sure to never let Morty out of his sight and pretty much makes a normal life for the kid impossible despite desperately promising it to him when they turned to move to Earth.

He builds a new portal gun out of scrap they've harvested while surviving and old things Beth never threw away because they reminded her of her father, and he's gone again. Gone with Morty. Gone God knows where. Except he returns at night to sleep in a shitty little cot and fuck he probably drags Morty's air mattress into his room with him without any explanation. Blames it on Morty not being able to sleep alone since they left the citadel. Blames it on anything but himself.

They go into what I'd describe as a narcissism-fuelled grace period, or honeymoon period, the more time they spend together off-planet after crashing at the Smith's house.

They go from Rick being very controlling and making Morty feel like an inferior sidekick, to Rick actually opening up and helping him become better. Very slowly and gradually, he realizes that, well, he's stuck with this Morty now. This is *his* Morty by all intents and purposes, and he doesnt have a fuckin replacement Morty ticket and after constructing and unregistered portal gun he'd not be let back into the citadel anyway even after reconstruction - so might as well invest his time and effort into this one Morty as much as he (claims to) hate it.

The kid is so broken already, having witnessed so many versions of his grandpa die, which Rick realizes after a while would just make it easier for him to reassemble him anew and mold him how he wants it. He's a sick bastard but if it aint broke dont fix it and especially dont fix it if it promises to always stay by your side and begs you not to leave

The whole "unlucky charm" curse only serves to fuel Rick's ego too because, unlike all these previous Ricks he only knows about on paper, *he* hasn't died yet with this shitty excuse of a Morty around him. which makes him better than all those before him. He's cocky, priding himself on living where those Ricks failed.

He gets too confident, as all Ricks do, and after a few too-close brushes with death he does decide to invest into various failsafes and "upgrading" Morty to a standard he sees fit. This is when Morty gets the tracker arm enhancement and various other augmentations that'll essentially turn him into a lifeline for Rick. He's driven by anxiety of his past mistakes, past deaths of Ricks, repeating. This time there'd be no scolding by teachers and new Rick two weeks later. There'd only be grief, and nothing.

Morty's trained not only in combat and survival skills but also shown how to reboot and even replace certain cybernetic parts of Rick's body.

surgery, baby!

Not on a clone, not a simulation, the real him. Train for the real deal.

They spend weeks in the newly constructed underground labs, Morty cutting him open and putting him back together; surgeries upon surgeries without any anesthetic so that Rick is fully aware and awake to guide Morty through it.

Eventually Morty does have to put those skills to the test when shit goes wrong on an adventure, but this is already so long so I'll spare you!! I'd be surprised if you read to here, if you did, thank you and I'm glad you're interested in my little guys !!

[therese-lokidottir]

Btw why every single fan fiction I seeing (not all but many) is Tony stans? I meant they always put Tony in good light and 'oh poor baby' and worst of it they make other characters be worst and top of it is steve

Now, everyone have free will to writing what they want but come on, it's getting annoying. Specially it's so clear Tony is never good person, sure he have his good moments but the rest? He not nice to he so called close friends and lover

And Steve? Please just because he is a soldier didn't meant he is bad, I meant sure American soldiers and soldiers generally have bad reputation, but Steven prove it he more just a soldier, he is a man.

Also it's kind bothering me while this issue never been showing it but Steve is quite religius person and Tony is atheist. And now I am no want make some kind hateful comments but I feel little bit got insulted by it.

I meant if you have religion didn't make you good person but well they make Steve like that and hate him sound like imply something

I don't think Tony Stark is bad. I think he is a wonderfully complex character when written well when written within his film series. But then Civil War happened and then the MCU Spider-Man movies had to make the choices that they made.

In the original Iron Man film Tony is egotistical, he is selfish and he is a complete mess but he is still a man with a heart. He is genuinely remorseful for what his weapons have done and he wants to change and do good. Tony is a man who struggles with his ego and with being vulnerable. He has trouble letting down those walls even to his best friends who have stood by him through so much, he's still scared.

In the Iron Man films, those were flaws Tony needed to learn from. Tony needed to learn and grow and you do see that. But then CA: CW didn't quite get that. Tony does have compassion, he does have sympathy for people. But in CA: CW it's more about guilt than it is about responsibility and self-reflection. He gets called out but some mom, but was this not something Tony Stark was struggling with? Was he not already giving to the relief efforts?

People can argue that Steve was doing wrong things in CA: CW, he was breaking laws regardless of the accords, but Tony consciously does things that question if the accords have any legitimacy in the first place. He uses an untrained 15-year-old for backup without giving them full details of the situation and lying to their legal guardian. Tony's team initiates the fight and causes collateral damage because he's permitted to do so. Lastly, he ends up snapping and trying to murder someone and he never has to face repercussions for that, legal ones I mean. He's pushing for the accords while it's clear he doesn't have to abide by why they are supposed to be there.

Contrasting all that to Steve desperately trying to help his friend, consoles someone facing eminence guilt, and allows others to leave without judgment while giving them the full story, does make Steve seem a lot nicer and more human. Bucky was brainwashed, abused, and used by Hydra and the reason they could do that was because Howard Stark used Hydra members to build S.H.I.E.L.D. All because he thought it was acceptable to for the sake of protecting the world.

The problem with Tony's "mentorship" of Peter is he treats Peter more like a project than someone who is their own independent person he's meant to be guiding and pointing in the right direction. Of course, there is the metatextual problem of shifting from billionaires the bad guys to working-class bad guys in the franchise about the hero who is usually the working-class street-level hero.

The MCU really seemed to forget Tony was an ass he needed to be better. He ends up never learning and the MCU seemed to forget Tony's ego was both bad and annoying, and also kind of a coping mechanism and cover Tony was using to deal with his issues.

[batsplat]

Hi, I hope you are having a good to/will have a good day!

This is kind of of a drama stirring ask, but I was reading your post on your favorite riders on the current grid and you mentioned that you became fond of all the 2019 rookies except one of them. I was just wondering if there is any specific reason for that? Not a fan or a hater of that one rider just unfortunately overly curious sometimes, feel free to ignore this ask if you do not feel comfortable answering it.

I also just wanted to mention that I love the way you described Fabio in that post as a sad Frenchie because I immediately pictured a sad French bulldog and somehow that felt completely fitting. And I also laughed so hard when I read the part about about how Joan looked like he was so scared that Marc was going to eat him.

My favorite part of the post though was when you were talking about Pecco's super up and down performance and wrote something like Ok you won. but? why? were? you? in 13th? to begin? with? I don't know if this was what you were going for but the disappointed, but not surprised scolding parent tone I got from it was immaculate. I really hope next year Pecco remembers he has a backbone because if the vibes at Ducati are not rancid what even it the point?

oh tbh there's no real story there!! idm answering but i also don't have a great answer... it's just which ones of them personally caught my eye. early 2019 was a time when i was gradually reestablishing friendly relations with my primary sport and watching motogp was just hoping for... well, not a complete changing of the guard, exactly, because i like marc a lot more than i do the dominant athletes in said other sport. but some competition, some tension. the dovi rivalry kinda felt like it had run its course at some point in 2018 when it became pretty clear dovi probably wasn't ever going to match his 2017 challenge, let alone go one step further. valentino was increasingly washed + the 2018 yamaha was so mediocre that a lot of his very respectable efforts felt like an exercise in futility - and the vinales experiment is one that i'd also given up on at some point that year. (kinda ironic given where yamaha's next champion came from but tennis fans will know what i mean when i say i always referred to vinales as having a case of 'french brain'. actually was worried fabio might have a severe case of french brain until he won the title.) i had basically zero hopes for honda!jorge panning out, like it was conceptually fun (as casey said, get out the popcorn) but also we'd literally just seen jorge take over a year to even begin to adapt to a bike that didn't seem quite as unfriendly as the honda. also, he'd been injured for much of late 2018... idk kinda felt his time was up

which is a pretty dire competitive picture. like the racing was still good, a lot better than it is now, but it was also... this isn't a marc thing, i'm just not really the type of person who can enjoy winning for winning's sake. i do need a story. it all felt a bit depressing, also interpersonally - marc/valentino continued to be the main source of tension but it also meant marc wasn't really doing anything interesting with anyone else on the grid. the dovi relationship is like... civil, but nothing more than that, so mainly it really is just marc giving the side of valentino's scalp a thorough examination once a week. not really the web of intricate interpersonal relations + conflict of the alien era, is it. or guys in the early to mid noughties actually LIKING each other and HANGING OUT and a bit more of an interesting dynamic because you feel like these blokes have actual relationships with each other. dovi/marc as a rivalry is practically designed to make me feel a bit morose and irritable... and dovi came across as a little too resigned to his fate, jorge/dovi teammates was also taken away from me, and it already felt pretty clear marc wasn't going to leave honda when his next contract expired. (not that i thought he'd sign for another FOUR YEARS, obviously that didn't go like anyone was expecting but i can't say i was particularly thrilled at that announcement.) i had a bit of hope for alex rins but also i hadn't really seen THAT much from him. zarco-caused narrative juice also felt like very much a 2017 thing. morbidelli pretty meh rookie season, iannone experiment felt over, miller experiment felt over... you get the spirit

and basically at this point i wasn't looking at the 2019 rookies primarily in terms of personality, it was literally just an evaluation of whether one of these bozos could please, please, please give marc a proper challenge. from those, pecco was obviously the immediately eye-catching one - had just put together an impressive moto2 campaign, then rocked up and had an excellent pre-season testing. i wasn't like... completely sold, because tennis-pilled brain does at a certain point make you think that unless you're already breaking lap records as a toddler, it's probably not going to pan out for you. but obviously i was theoretically interested in a valentino protege going up against marc, and pecco had built up enough positive credit in my bank that i was willing to forgive a lot in 2019. (muttering to myself 'casey crashed a lot too, casey crashed a lot too, casey crashed a lot too' every time a rookie is driving me insane.) mir had quite an eye-catching first ride on the suzuki iirc... also obviously had that moto3 title going for him. i vaguely remember injury eventually just sort of fucking him over in his rookie season? and quartararo... obviously wasn't REALLY on my radar, like I knew about the pre-moto3 resume which did actually play into my 'breaking lap records as a toddler' bias. but also obviously he was the standout that season, like he was properly exciting... and also just the little things, how frustrated he was after losing to marc or when marc was pissing about in sepang qualifying. made you hope we could get something going there. oliveira just went under the radar a bit for me,, like this wasn't entirely FAIR because given machinery differences i would defo say he had a better rookie season than pecco and had run pecco pretty close in 2018. but also i'd also been supporting pecco for the moto2 title the previous year lol, not with all THAT much investment but he was a fun kid idk. so sometimes you just get to a point where you get used to rooting against someone. generally you'll already have an opinion on blokes before they even get to motogp, right

and yeah, genuine affection for these guys developed the following years... i mean, fabio only REALLY got me in 2020 when i was watching him throw his title bid away. and mir grew on me ever more as the suzuki project went down the drain. bagnaia actually has this fantastic quality that allows me to root for him, where every time i go 'hm he's winning too much' he puts the fear of god back into me. like i had this moment during qatar this year where i was like... idk, come on. and then obviously he's taking me on such a great rollercoaster ride and by the end of the season i'd basically never been more invested. i actually have quite possibly the worst type of sports fan brain - runner-up brain. i root for people who come close to winning but can't quite make it. my history as a sports fan is littered with these second tier athletes you can be delusional about but will never actually make you happy. and what i've discovered following motogp is that apparently this even extends to liking the guys i like less when they're winning and more when they're losing. the problem with this is that it's a recipe to always being miserable, which. well. it is what it is. luckily i'm not THAT emotionally invested in motogp, like if i'm not enjoying it i can just stop watching for a while lol and i'll be free of it. it's not that serious

so that's it tbh!! i don't even particularly dislike oliveira - his luck has been abysmal with aprilia and i do feel quite sorry for him throughout all that. yamaha will do him well i reckon (might be a crazy thing to say but yamaha is my team and i have decided to sniff the #hopium, idk i think we might actually be cooking). there ARE some riders i root against, oliveira is not one of them. i feel decidedly neutral towards him. also whatever casey might think about portugal being a province of spain, it's always good to have an extra nationality on the grid. he seems like a bit of a character, like sometimes i see a quote from him that makes me raise an eyebrow and i like raising an eyebrow. but also... his profile of rider is 'guy who can do incredible things on his day but disappears for months at a time', which has just never been the type of athlete i go for. (i think this is actually the main reason, like it's an aggravating pattern of results to me personally that always makes me go 'maybe do this more often?????') i'm way more about the #grinders and the guys who worry away at getting better for years and years and still eventually come up short. anyway, glad you liked the descriptions of fabio and mir lol, apparently i really will bring up that mir clip at any excuse

on pecco, i DO stand by the gags i made in the post probably maybe,, but also i have adjusted a little in response to just how wild the discourse around him gets... like i don't see much of it anymore because i practise #contentcuration but i know it's out there!! ultimately the ways in which he's frustrating push all my buttons, and also (controversial opinion) i do think he actually cleaned up his act in some regards, just everyone's upped their level this year. it's partly the gp24 but jorge + pecco's qualifying record this year has genuinely been so impressive to me, like there's so many fp1's i half followed and went 'hm another q1 excursion for mr bagnaia do we think' before seeing he'd figured it out late in... what's it called now, practise? awful nomenclature. i also did not post this because at a certain point you just have to give up and move on, but i calculated the error rate of each title winner and runner-up this century (where 'error' is strictly defined as any crash that was not CLEARLY caused by an external factor, so racing incidents like with marquez x2 counted but not binder at jerez sprint)... and again. it's six for pecco from forty bloody races. divide that by two (even though twenty races still longer than most seasons historically) and you're already at a considerably less apocalyptic three, which you don't need to do any fancy calculations with to know isn't a historical aberration. what it comes out as is... fine. it's fine. both marc and valentino have won titles with a higher percentage rate of error (and even there you're sometimes being generous - counting casey's laguna 2008 misadventure as an error and not whatever tf marc was up to in argentina 2018 feels quite unfair, but you need clear criteria y'know)... it's just a narrative that has completely gotten away from reality and it's a bit annoying. i also think ultimately sometimes you are punished more for relatively minor missteps, like both marquez brother incidents are 60:40-ish things either way that pecco probably shouldn't have gotten himself involved in... but the punishment doesn't quite befit the crime. and jorge likewise sometimes just got a bit lucky, like marc crashing out right ahead of him in thailand and giving him the warning he needed. it's such a long season, all these things add up, and sometimes... sometimes things just shake out a certain way. pecco likely lost more than ten points cumulatively through incidents that were 100% not his fault, jorge put together an extremely impressive season on a satellite bike and is very deserving of the title. idk stuff like this is so completely pointless because you might as well be arguing with the wall, like people just enjoy a certain pecco narrative at this point and it's not going to change so. no point arguing about this any further. but that's where i stand on THAT

and yeah i feel like i was quite optimistic about next season like... halfway through the year, but tbh. i'm not feeling it at the minute. i mean i've barely thought about it, all the time i have available thinking about motogp has really just been about the old stuff. which is such a rich text that i'm never REALLY going to complain about motogp, like at the end of the day i do enjoy following it *as a sport* and it is just so extremely extremely unlikely that we ever get anything that lives up to the old stuff. did you know that one guy put a curse on another guy?? it's crazy. so yeah, whatever, it's a different landscape now. competitively i am a little worried we're in for '2018 but with worse racing', which is unfair to pecco - he's a better, more well-rounded rider than dovi ever was facing off against a different version of marc. but i kinda feel like you NEED a decent title fight in this era to sustain your interest, like i'm not tuning in for the racing am i. which was the case in 2017-19!! but unfortunately we're keeping the shitty michelin front for another year, which just means that it's going to be monumentally hard for those two to actually put on extended duel. it's not their FAULT, it's just the limitations of the current series. i do hope we're going to get *one* proper proper duel... but the problem with marc is that it also takes quite specific circumstances for that to even matter - either you need to repeatedly beat him to start fraying at his nerves (see mid-2019 pre-misano) or your name needs to be valentino rossi. otherwise he can mostly accept that the relentless pace will be what wins him the title and you have duels that feel quite disconnected from the storyline of the season, which was historically the problem with the marc/dovi duels. they're fun in the moment!! it's good racing!! but it's also a bit... you know, these duels don't necessarily all stick in the mind the same way because they don't each come with their own story. austria 2017 vs austria 2019 just aren't the same level of distinctive as brno 2003 vs brno 2005, right. i will say both proper marc/pecco duels, aragon 2021 and jerez 2024, have been distinctive and memorable and interesting - so we'll see!! you could be in for a great duel at *checks notes* mugello or assen, but that would mean pecco's probably in quite a lot of trouble that season... catalunya, jerez, qatar. those are the ones i am eyeing anyway

and the other bit of the equation is interpersonal tension, which i am also not super optimistic on. i will be a bit disappointed in both of them icl, but it does feel a bit like we're headed to... vaguely tense but also kinda muted coexistence. the problem is marc isn't going to engage with this stuff unless he absolutely has to, and pecco is so extremely committed to his stance that he wants to be a good sportsman, fair and respectful and all that shit. they're both extremely motivated to downplay any potential tension because marc's calculation is that, all other things remaining equal, he will beat pecco - and pecco just does not want the drama. unfortunately as we've already seen this year, people just cannot be normal about any tension between the two of them either, like it's just also not a media environment where guys can just say shit about each other. casey *probably* accused jorge of faking injuries severe enough they put jorge in a wheelchair back in the day, and i'm not saying that's GOOD or what we should be aiming for, but also can you imagine the equivalent outcry over something like that today?? (this is now the fifth unsolicited mention of casey in an ask response about current motogp, if anyone's counting.) and both pecco and marc are aware of that, and they also know that if they blink at each other wrong, some fans will completely lose their minds... it's just not really worth it. you always kinda hope the natural tension caused by being teammates will get something going... but yeah, idk man, sometimes you just need to be ready for disappointment. and pecco DOES need to actually challenge marc because otherwise obviously you're not getting any proper tension. literally no point in feuding if the competitive stakes aren't there, you need to be a real master of the craft to pull that sort of thing off

anyway that's all from me!! idm asks like this, i love talking about my opinions on stuff lol. we might be in for 1-2 quite disappointing seasons but hopefully the racing will get better again and the competitive picture a bit more lively. thing is i do LIKE 1v1 title fights in theory but i think then you do need a proper compelling interpersonal narrative to pull it off. otherwise the best ones are the 2006/2017 type free-for-all's. and obviously i still think pecco and marc have all the building blocks there for something fun, and individually i clearly care a lot about both of them... they're both just quite self-contained characters? they're never going to get close for obvious reasons but they also don't want to rock the boat too much. idk i feel like we might be missing a bit of an instigator in the jorge/valentino tradition, or someone who's casey-levels of tightly strung they make it easy to provoke them. which is obviously why i'm hoping pedro will eventually come through for me, though i'd prefer it if he weren't currently tied to bankruptcy enterprises. ah well, we'll see

[aita-blorbos]

(AU of canon background lore)

AITA for dethroning and trying to kill my twin brother?

My preemptive apologies. This is going to be quite lengthy, as there are many things to cover.

My brother and I (both 20M) jointly rule our region. We took power a while ago after leading a rebellion against the previous king D (50sM), who was extremely cruel; some of the things he did include laws to execute and/or torture dissenters, sending soldiers to raid and destroy poor villages and killing most of his family in an effort to protect his position.

Our rebellion was popular among the people, in part because we, or rather I, swore to change things and end the suffering of the people - between myself and my brother, I was the recruiter, as I'm a better public speaker. Also, we had the help of a dragon god who descended from the heavens to aid our cause, so people actually believed we had a chance.

Anyway, we overthrew D and became the new kings - we agreed to rule together, given we're twins and had always worked best as a team. I thought that now we were in charge, we could cast away the old, oppressive practices that D had set in place and create a kinder world. But my brother is the main lawmaker, and he continued with the exact same set of laws even after we took the throne - nothing had changed for the people. This was a betrayal to all the innocent people who joined and fought for us and our cause. I told him that, but he waved me off and said it was to maintain law and order. Not only that, but I found out multiple things he had been keeping from me all this while:

I had always assumed we were simply orphans whose parents, like so many others, were killed by D. I don't remember them because of an old head injury, but my brother does. As it turns out, we're also D's nephews. I only found out after we jailed D and he told me, even showed me proof of our heritage. My brother never once told me. And here I had been, telling people that our reign was a new era free from D's legacy, only to find out we have the same blood anyway.

In addition, and more horrifyingly, I found out that during our time leading the rebellion, my brother had been killing people within our ranks who could potentially pose a threat to our leadership. He says it was to maintain a united front, but these were brilliant people on our side who were executed just for having different ideas from us.

Thinking about it, my brother is not so different from D. He maintains the same cruel status quo that I had promised to destroy. If I am to change things for the better to make an ideal world, I have to remove him. The more I see the brutal way he treats others besides me, the easier it is to steel my resolve.

When we last held court, I denounced his inaction and cruelty publicly, making it clear that I was rebelling against him. It's a long story, but after a whole lot of fighting, it was clear that the bulk of the populace also hates him, and he fled with a few of his loyalists. The dragon god who had helped us was apparently so torn between which of us to support that They divided Themself into two dragons, R and Z, each one taking a side. Now, my brother is effectively exiled, but still keeps fighting back alongside his dragon, R, trying to retake his position.

Our region is embroiled in civil war yet again, only shortly after we thought we had achieved peace. The fighting between the dragons has scorched the earth, and soldiers clash in the streets. Our region is no better off than before we overthrew D. And, of course, I might have to kill my brother to quash this faction of people so intent on preserving the old status quo which has caused so much harm.

Suffice to say, I am not as certain of my actions as I should be. My brother has always been my protector and best friend, and I know he sacrificed a lot for me. And here I am, repaying his care by rising against him and killing him. But for the sake of an ideal world for our people, I have to oppose him. I cannot betray the other people who fought and died for our - or, as it turns out, my - vision of a better world.

AITA?

[crimneo]

Pleasant Evening

(Thanksgiving Special)

Ragna:  Here.

Neo:  ?

Neo received what appeared to be a bag of to-go boxes.

Ragna:  Don't know how you and Roman handle this time of the year, but I figured I offer a little something… just in case, y'know.

Neo peeked into one of the boxes and found a traditional Thanksgiving meal.  With a small sniff, she can tell that it's going to be quite tasty.

Ragna:  I gave each of you your own box and I even threw in a pie for dessert.  Figured that was must have.

Neo smiled, thankful for the meal.  She then looked up at Ragna with a slight tilt to her head.

Ragna: What? Something wrong?  I kept yours gluten-free if that's what you're wondering.

Neo sighed, she pulled out a sign that read:

“What made you go through this effort?  Don't you have other people you need to cook for?”

Ragna:  Yeah, that's kinda the reason I can't stay for too long.  Tao's still gonna be hungry after the whole feast, and Jin's not gonna take too kindly to me running off to meet up with you.

*Flip*

“Yet you took the time to catch up with me.”

Ragna:  Eh, I needed a break from the crowd.  That and I… uh…

Neo looked at Ragna curiously.

Ragna:  (blushing)  I kinda… wanted… to see you.

Neo:  …

Ragna (embarrassed):  God, that sounds creepy!  Forget it, I'll just leave you to it, alright.  See ya.  (Leaves)

Neo watches as Ragna leaves her sight.  She couldn't speak, but she felt as if she was left speechless.  She wasn't expecting Ragna to go off and say something like that, it caught her off guard.

She went and sat down by the table and decided to start eating.  Torchwick was busy so she opted to just start without him.  It'd probably be for the best, he'd just take the chance to tease her if he noticed the way she was acting.

When scooping some food into her mouth, she took the time to savor the first bite.  Turns out, it was even tastier than she thought it was going to be.  Guess that's what happens when the chef's passionate about food… and about the person eating it.

Neo:  …

Now Neo felt speechless again.  Something about Ragna's passion towards her seems to have that effect on her.  Then again, for a guy like Ragna to be this in love with her, it was always going to leave an impact.  The fact that he would go out of his way to keep her safe, the fact that he would fight tooth and nail for her sake, the fact that he would take on any pain to make sure she didn't feel any, it made her feel special.

Of course, she wasn't the only one he would do this for; he's got other people to look after too, other people that he would put his life on the line for.  The thing is however, those guys are way more deserving of his protection than she is.  Ragna never liked the crime life, that much she knew, he's the type to prefer a more civil person, a more caring and innocent type and if they're not the caring or innocent type then he protects them for some other reason like if they were a family member or something, not some crime doer like her.  So for him to go through this much effort for her, she can't help but feel… thankful.

Neo's chest began to feel a bit warm and fuzzy, but she paid it no attention.  She's just grateful for all of Ragna's hospitality.  Maybe she'll show him how appreciative she is towards him later, but for now, she should just enjoy this amazing food before it gets cold.

She began chowing down and savoring each bite of Ragna's cooking, until then she'll figure out someway to show him her gratitude for all he's done. He deserves it.