#so that basically makes her a good person

[conkreetmonkey]

Fun story: My last job was at a restaurant. They hired me among many other workers all at once. This is because the kitchen had recently burnt down, thankfully after hours and without hurting anyone, so they had to temporarily close and rebuild; can't very well run a restaurant with no kitchen, after all. Presumably they'd laid everyone off and were completely restocking their labour pool in like a week. My first day was wonderful. People were patient about training me, the manager was sweet and made sure everyone was staying hydrated, and she even personally brought me a glass of water while I was on my break. Like any person would have, I took this as a good sign. Then, over the next few months, things began to devolve. There's like 5 stories in there about the extortion, ER visits, second-degree burns, and explosive stress diarrhea, but basically that once sweet manager slowly became a demon, and my once fun and kind coworkers began doing things like threatening to harm my work bestie unless I performed unsafe work that was guaranteed to burn me due to inadequate PPE, or yelling obscenities at me for asking perfectly reasonable questions. It went from heaven to hell over the span of a single damp, mild autumn. So, as you can guess, I came to resent the place. But there's another element to it:

in my time working there, I would come to learn that the fire that destroyed the place was entirely preventable; there was a known gas leak in one of the deep fryers, and management knew, but refused to shell out the $15 to patch the line (just like they refused to give us PPE, or generally fix anything ever). Quite a long time after they found out and after many staff reports of this gas leak, one night, it somehow finally ignited, and a $15 expense suddenly turned into tens of thousands of dollars. One night, while I was manning the fryers, I noticed one of them was producing bubbles of opaque white smoke from under the oil. My coworkers assured me it was "normal" and "just some food stuck under there." I've worked many a deep fryer, and had been working those particular ones for months, and never seen such a thing before. It was pretty easy for me to put two and two together on that one. The lifers weren't having it and insisted I ignore it and get back to work. A few weeks later, I quit on the spot after getting cussed out over asking if anybody had put an order in the oven yet. My work bestie was fired shortly afterwards, for what she claims was written down as "disobeying orders." She was very allergic to the fryer oil we used, it made her break out in painful, swollen hives, but the lifers kept insisting on making her clean the fryers, so it was probably that, I imagine. Who knows, though? There came a point where it was never enough, no amount of speed or cleanliness or quality. We were always understaffed, and now they'd fired one of their best workers. I met another one of the coworkers I'd bonded with working elsewhere. It was retail, under a notorious asshole boss, but at least it wasn't there. Her arms were covered in deep burn scars the day she'd walked in, so I imagine she's used to it. I hope she'd okay. I should probably try to check in on her, actually. I never asked if she left or was fired. I know they never patched the leak. They didn't the first time. Of course they didn't learn their lesson, the whole place was just a number in the bloated investment portfolio of some silver spoon fatcat from Toronto, he didn't give a fuck. None of us ever even met him, or learned his name. Fully hands off. We'd pull like $15,000 or even $20,000 some nights, but all made minimum wage, and were always one call-in away from total collapse. They kept cutting hours. They would send people home in the middle of dinner rushes because "we're spending too much money on labour." Schedules became mere suggestions. We were never given end times to begin with. 11 or 12 hour shifts weren't uncommon on my end, but sometimes I'd only get 3. It was a coin flip every night. My point is, the place was managed, on all levels, by people who'd drown if it rained. Thinking about how perfect the place could have been still makes my heart rate increase. It filled a niche with absolutely no local competition. Our profit margins were absurd. And yet the dullards filling the office chairs didn't understand that you need cooks to produce food, and the place began creaking under their weight. I left before something gave. I suppose me leaving was something giving though, in a way. I worked my ass off for that place. I made them thousands, IN PROFIT, every night. I feel like maybe that triggered the exodus that followed, idk. Don't want to aggrandize myself too much. As far as I know, the second burning hasn't happened yet. But it will. It's all but guaranteed to. I hope that, just like last time, nobody's there when it happens. But I also hope that, unlike the first time, this time the entire place completely, unsalvageably burns down to ash, reduced to a concrete foundation. I hope there's nothing left to rebuild. I hope the cycle finally ends. I pretty much never got to take my legally mandated break again after that first shift, btw. Should have seen it as a sign, but it was just one shift right? They needed me, they said. They needed me.

[omgfangirlland]

I'm going to need all of you to hear me out on what I'm about to spew, but I have yandere!batfam brain rot, and I just came across Yan!girldad!nolan grayson.

HEAR ME OUT!

Putting a page break here cuz idk how long this will be-

So- the usual neglected batsis that as a youngster craved the attention of her fam, but after being brushed away, after being ignored, after being straight up forgotten about, says fuck it, y'all aren't worth my love, I'll use the Wayne money to do as I please.

So she does. She uses the monthly allowance that is on auto pay straight to her card to do arts, to paint her heart away, to draw and play video games, to fund and pay off anything from homeless shelters to medical bills, trying to make a dent into the Wayne fortune both in selfish and non-selfish ways. She's basically a petty tween.

But then she wakes up with powers. She thinks she's a meta- batman doesn't like metas, that's what she thinks, she doesn't know Bruce doesn't want metas in Gotham due to Gotham being ground zero for meta trafficking. Boom, panic.

I think she has powers like flying, super strength, and like immediate healing if not "iron skin" like Superman. So she wakes because she hits the ceiling due to flying while asleep. She panics, falls, maybe breaks something, nobody comes to check on her-

Now, she always has toyed with the idea of leaving, but this? THIS? Breaking point, she packs necessities and the Wayne card and says bye-bye Gotham, good morning... Chicago? NYC? Idk, whichever place Omni man lives in ig.

The batfam, of course, doesn't notice. In this universe, I think even Alfred won't have been paying that much attention to batsis, man's too busy. So what if one day he does his rounds, cleaning, opens a door he hasn't been in a while.

The room is dusty. Dusty beyond hell, and one singular photo of batsis at like a kindergarten graduation makes him drop everything, including his heart. Old man goes feral, absolutely crazy, because where the fuck is this kid, this little baby, that he went and picked up because Bruce couldn't be bothered.

The batfam goes crazy too. In the mean time-

Batsis is, surprisingly, living her best life. Initially, she planned on getting an under the table job- clean a bar, babysit, be the errand girl of some shady drag dealer, etc. But Nolan sees her while she tries to get her powers under control, shakily flying, accidentally blowing to pieces a tree as she leans against it.

Omni-man as he lurks in the shadows: Debbie would love a daughter. I would love a daughter.

Batsis would call it kidnapping, Nolan calls it adopting without extra steps. Debbie takes one look at this shaken kid and immediately goes mama mode while reprimanding Nolan about taking a kid off the streets and not warning her so she could prepare better.

Mark? It takes about 2 hours before he realizes that they can be training buddies and that they have similar taste in some things. That's his baby sister. No arguments, just baby sis. Batsis? Much like a hungry, cold cat, she accepts her fate. It does feel nice to finally have some attention on her.

So she trains with Nolan and Mark, gets great, becomes a reluctant superhero, deliberately ignores Nolan's rants about her becoming such a great warrior, his little girl on the way of becoming the greatest conquror. Gothamite batsis just shrugs it off as just a Thursday.

Back with the batfam, pure chaos. Everyone is in shambles. How could they forget about a whole kid? Their siblings, Bruce's youngest daughter. Guilt is slowly turning into madness, and madness is slowly turning into a need to prove they can be better, that they weren't deliberately overlooking an innocent child because of personal pettiness, they were just distracted but now they'll right their wrongs.

Bonus p1:

Superman finally meeting batsis: What do you mean you're Bruce's kid? 😃 What do you mean you're a meta and instead of coming to uncle Clark you go and get adopted by murderous Omni-man? 🙂 What do you mean you kinda approve of him killing his enemies? 🫠

Batsis just wants Joker to die.

Bonus pt2:

Dick: What do you mean she's calling that other Grayson boy big brother? 😀

Damien: What do you mean I have another sibling? What do you mean she's calling that purple alien bastard her little brother?! I blame you, father.

Bonus pt3:

John Constantine: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GAVE ONE OF BATMAN'S KIDS IMMORTALITY AND MAGICAL POWERS?

The deity/entity batsis has been depicting in her paintings for years: *shrugs* I was bored, my little priestess was sad, she's not anymore 🤷

That's the plot twist, batsis is actually magical, but her powers work the way they do because that's the only way she knows how to fight with them. Magic isn't on her thought as a possibility, even if she was into the occult.

Cue John drinking for 3 days straight before having the courage(or will) to go to the Bat.

[lostyesterday]

I think most people agree that, of all the TNG major characters, Worf was the best possible one to bring into DS9. He fits the best into the DS9 cast, and it’s pretty hard to imagine fitting any other TNG character in at all as well. This made me think about the fact that, since all the 90’s Trek shows are set at approximately the same time, you could theoretically take almost any major character from any show and put them into another show. So I asked myself the question, which character from each 90’s Trek show would fit the best into each other show?

The best TNG character to be on Voyager: Easily Deanna Troi. I don’t think having a counselor onboard would genuinely fix the Voyager crew’s problems, but it would add an interesting layer, and we would get to see lots of disastrous counseling sessions. I also think Deanna could have particularly interesting interactions with B’Elanna and Seven, and I’d love to see her develop an unlikely friendship with Tuvok. The one major issue I can see is that there would be a bit of redundancy with Kes in terms of her empathic abilities, but at the same time, I think they could have an interesting dynamic.

The best DS9 character to be on TNG: Obviously Worf and O’Brien are discounted from consideration here. I’ll admit this is a hard one – the DS9 crew just would not fit very well on TNG. It also feels like cheating to choose Bashir because he had good chemistry with Data and Geordi in the crossover episode, so instead I’m going to pick Odo. I’m not sure how exactly the plot could be worked to make Odo’s presence on Enterprise make sense, but I think he would get along really well with Picard, and I think he and Data could have had interesting discussions. I also think Odo would slot interestingly into TNG’s typical moral dilemma episodes.

The best DS9 character to be on Voyager: Either Jadzia or Kira could be interesting. I think Jadzia would fit really naturally into the crew and could have filled the generally vacant main science officer spot. There would be interesting things to explore in her dynamics with basically every single main crew member, particularly Janeway and B’Elanna. Kira could be interesting in terms of how she related to the Maquis/Starfleet relationship, and I’d love to see her dynamic with Chakotay and B’Elanna. In general, I think both Jadzia and Kira would have some really interesting feelings about being stranded so far from the Alpha Quadrant.

The best Voyager character to be on TNG: Harry feels like he’d theoretically slot in the most naturally, but I think his role and personality would end up being too similar to Geordi. So, oddly enough, I think Tom might actually work the best in TNG. His backstory is based on that of a minor TNG character, and I think it would be interesting to see Tom work through (or not) his issues with Starfleet and his father in an environment that was not at all as far removed as Voyager was. He could have an interesting dynamic with Picard and Deanna, and maybe even Data and Geordi.

The best Voyager character to be on DS9: Chakotay would be interesting, since I might have liked an alternate Maquis storyline on DS9 that actually had one of them as a major character. What would happen if Sisko was actually forced to work with a Maquis leader for some reason, and what if they actually ended up finding common ground and respecting each other? I’m thinking more along the lines of Sisko’s dynamic with Cal Hudson in the Maquis two-parter rather than his dynamic with Eddington. Again, I think Chakotay and Kira could have a really interesting dynamic as well.

[angellic4l]

don’t hate the player - d.m

massive thank you’s to @esote-rika @wheresmacoffee @notlongtolove @floraisunwell @mggslover my absolute angels!!!

in which; fem!bau!reader goes to a jazz bar and bumps into the last person she’d ever want to see

content: flirty!derek, fem!bau!reader, angst!!, they fight sort of, reader hates morgan (i promise there’s a point to this) mentions of sex but no one does anything, swearing, alcohol consumption, reader wears a dress and heels

wc: 2.5k

a/n: i see basically no derek fics unless its smut (i dont read that) so i’m showing him some love!! i will continue with spencer fics im just stressing trying to write my ideas for him. kisses!!!

One of the girls’ playlists was blaring in the big bedroom, ‘Cool For The Summer’ reverberating off of the creme walls as each of you were primping and priming yourselves. Hair tools plugged in and on, makeup bags half empty with their contents spread throughout the room, and mirrors almost everywhere.

The night had been planned weeks in advance, and you were lucky enough to get the whole day off instead of having to use a sick day. It was one of your friends’ 27th birthday, and the first time you’d been out with your friends for a while, so all of you were buzzing with excitement.

She wanted to go to a jazz club, to ‘experience that ‘20s aesthetic’, in her words. You absolutely couldn’t wait to be celebrating your friend in a jazz bar, imagining soulful music as the soundtrack to your night, espresso martinis, and just having fun with your friends while you got ready.

Once done fixing your hair, you turned off the curler and unplugged it, setting it back on the heat proof mat before grabbing your hung up dress from the top of a door. You changed in the bathroom, stepping into the dress so as not to mess up your hair. It was the perfect mix of elegant yet sexy, form-fitting in the right places, but not too much skin on show to be deemed inappropriate.

After taking photos with and of the birthday girl, and then a group photo of you all on a polaroid camera, a taxi was ordered to the house. Excitement gathered in your stomach, the realisation that you were actually going out for the first time in forever, to celebrate one of your closest friends’ birthday no less, setting in and making you feel giddy.

As you all walked into the jazz club, you were greeted with a dimly lit room, illuminated with orange lighting to give it that cozy, intimate atmosphere. Red brick walls, decorated with vinyls, paintings, and wall lamps, were lined with brown leather booths. The sweet symphony of the saxophone softly sailed through the place before settling in your ears.

For the first time in a while, you felt alive, truly alive. Of course, working in high stake situations, apprehending some of the worst criminals known to man, and acting in life or death situations constantly fills you with adrenaline. That would be considered as feeling alive by most people, but it isn’t.

In this moment, you felt electric. You were on a high, not because of adrenaline, but because of pure euphoria. The atmosphere was welcoming, intimate, and so full of passion. You and your friends were all sat around a table sharing anecdotes, laughing, drinking, and just having fun. There was nothing to worry about, no nerves about a phone call from Hotch, no having to filter what you say.

It was pure bliss, everything you’d been missing for a while, and you felt like nothing and no one could bring you down from this peak.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Being so in the moment with your friends, enjoying good gossip and reminiscing on your uni days together, meant that you weren’t really checking the time, nor did you care to. Subconsciously though, you figured it had been at least an hour since you’d arrived; 12 five minute songs had been performed, give or take.

Everyone was taking turns buying rounds, the group had agreed on it before the night. It was your turn to buy everyone’s drinks now. The bar was popular, but it wasn’t packed like a club was, and for that you were thankful. Carrying a tray of drinks back to the table, in heels no less, would’ve been a nightmare.

Standing at the deep brown, oak bar, waiting for the drinks, you watch your friends laughing and giggling. The contentment you felt still hadn’t gone away, coursing through your body as if it were inside every red blood cell, depositing this gleeful energy with each pump of your heart. A few moments pass before you turn your attention back to the bar, leaning on it ever so slightly, observing how the drinks are made.

Suddenly, you feel a presence to the side of you, but you figure it’s just another patron buying a drink. Then, there’s a voice. An all too familiar voice that seems to not only pull you down from your euphoric high, but plummet you deep into the depths of anger, too.

“Pretty girl, fancy seeing you here,” he almost sings and you can hear the arrogant smirk on his face without even turning to face him.

“Morgan. Please, for the love of all things good, do not talk to me,” you try to remain as civil as possible, he hasn’t actually done anything yet, and you’re not horrible.

Derek raises his hands in some mock surrender, but his smirk never wavers. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to humble him, wipe that smirk off of his face, and bring his ego down a few notches. Immensely gratifying, you’d decided a while ago.

To put it simply, Derek Morgan was everything you hated about men in today’s society. He was a cocky, arrogant, bastard with little to no regard for people’s feelings. And the worst thing? He talked about women as if they were conquests, notches in his bedpost, trophies for his fucking shelf. It pissed you off to no end, how he could act like the women he ‘dated’ or slept with weren’t real people who deserved basic human decency.

But, you worked with him, day in and day out, and you weren’t about to lose your job over someone as insufferable as him. Besides, as much as you could hate his self proclaimed ‘CasaNova’ ways, he was damn good at his job, and he hadn’t done anything to you directly. He was fully unaware of the stance you’d taken against him, and he hadn’t done anything to require you airing out your grievances. Yet.

A long suffering sigh escapes your gloss coated lips as you come to terms with these facts, realising you can’t be hostile to your coworker, even if you’re not at work, because he doesn’t even know you have a problem with him.

“Look, Morgan, I’m sorry for that, but I’m here with my friends, celebrating, and I want absolutely nothing to do with work right now,” you murmur, still leaning across the bar.

“Look, mama, I get it. Jus’ didn’t wanna be rude, that’s all,” his tone is soft, softer than you’ve ever heard Morgan speak, and it’s filled with understanding. To say you’re shocked would be an understatement.

The pair of you exchange small smiles, a fleeting farewell, before he grabs his drink and leaves. Maybe you’ve misunderstood him, even if you don’t agree with what he stands for, and maybe you’ve been too impulsive with your initial judgements. Derek Morgan is a dick, but maybe he isn’t always a dick.

Drinks are passed around the table, manicured hands grabbing at various coloured liquids in different shaped glasses. Euphoria is long gone after your interaction with Derek, no longer on that high of serenity but in a sea of uncertainty. You won’t let yourself be a Debby downer on your friend’s birthday, though. Being a profiler means knowing all of your own tells, so you mask them well, putting up a front of glee until it isn’t fake anymore.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Jazz music speaks to the soul, transcending all borders, dimensions, and whatever the hell else Reid talks about, to reach the quintessence of your being. Rhythmic notes reach deep until they’re at the core of you, becoming a balm to the very essence of yourself.

Being surrounded by something so passionate and deep works quickly to heighten your mood once more. The sea of uncertainty parts for serenity’s peak, the fake smile becoming real, and the way Derek’s surprising attitude had shifted your mood is washed away.

Out of nowhere, a server comes over to the table with a tray full of everyone’s exact orders, seemingly confident about the table number. She smiles at you, but your brow furrows with confusion.

“Oh, these can’t be for us, I just bought drinks,” you explain, confusion painting your face even more, bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly and a small wrinkle in between your eyebrows.

“No, no, they are! That guy over there just ordered them all for you. Don’t worry, he didn’t touch them, just bought ‘em,” the server explains, pointing to none other than Derek Morgan, sitting at the bar.

All of the girls’ heads whip over to look in his direction, finding the man sitting on a bar stool next to his friends, but his attention isn’t on any of the guys. Instead, his gaze is on you, a soft smile playing at his lips, watching expectantly. For what, you don’t know, but it seems shady. If you know anything about Derek, it’s that he doesn’t do things that don’t benefit him directly. God, it’s almost too predictable, sending drinks to a table of pretty girls, hoping to luck out and get some.

Clearly, your own friends don’t share the same sentiment, because there’s a chorus of ‘awh’s once they recognise him as Derek. None of them have met him before, but they’ve seen pictures, having stalked each of the BAU members after your transfer request had been accepted.

The birthday girl says your name, almost as if you’d personally offended her, while hitting your arm lightly. For a moment, you’re afraid Derek sending you all drinks genuinely did offend her, but she’s speaking before the worry takes root.

“You didn’t tell us he was hot! My god, look at those muscles,” she raves, rolling her bottom lip beneath her teeth while staring at him past your head.

“Hot? You’re kidding, right? He’s awful.”

“He just bought us all drinks! That’s not awful, that’s lovely.”

“No, but he’s not actually like that. It’s just a ploy!”

“Not everyone has ulterior motives. I think you’re letting all that crime stuff get to your head.”

“You don’t see him like I see him, he’s really no-“ she cuts you off.

“Can I go for it? Am I his type?”

You actually have to bite back a scoff at that, because anyone that breathes is basically Derek Morgan’s type. He’s not good enough for your friend, not for any of them, but you know her well enough to see that she won’t listen to a bad word you say against him now. Truthfully, you’re resigned, you don’t care, it’s her choice. If she wants to make the bed and share it with him, she can lie in it, too.

“You’re stunning, of course you’re his type. Be my guest,” and the second the words are out of your mouth, she’s walking over to him like a lioness about to pounce on her prey.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

For the rest of the girls, two drinks becomes four, then shots, and before they know it they’re slurring their words, no longer making any sense. Of course, you’d come out tonight to celebrate your friend’s birthday, to have fun and let loose, but you also know that at least one of you needs to be somewhat sober.

Not to say you’re entirely sober, because your inhibitions are definitely a little loose, but it’s the kind of drunk that reduces your filter and boosts your confidence. You’re still in full control of yourself, just maybe not your mouth. Or your bladder’s strength, ever since you broke your seal.

Walking back from the bathrooms through a larger crowd than there was before isn’t too difficult, but the singer on stage now is semi-famous in the jazz world, so people are treating the bar like a concert, standing in your way. Succeeding in your mission to get through the crowd, your speed picks up once you’re in the clear, the clack of your heels becoming more frequent.

In your rush back to your friends, you aren’t properly taking in your surroundings, gaze trained on the table to ensure they’re all alright. Thus, you’re quickly met with something hard, prompting your foot to slip, and you stumble backwards.

A large hand reaches out quickly, grabbing your hip to stabilise you and resting there to make sure you’re alright.

“Watch your step, pretty girl,” the hand says and you know the voice too well, the nickname slipping off of his tongue like it’s nothing, and suddenly your eyes are on Derek Morgan’s face once more.

How fucking embarrassing.

“Oh gosh, ‘m so sorry, I didn’t even realise,” you rush out, not even thinking about the fact that the man you have a massive issue with has his hand on your hip still.

“Don’t apologise. You can push up on me anytime you want to, sweet thing,” his voice is smooth, tone suggestive, and the smirk on his face is one you’ve seen plenty of times before. When he’s talking to pretty female police officers on a case, after he gets a girl’s number, when he’s talking about his rendezvous to Rossi at work. The fact that it’s being directed at you makes you feel a bit sick, to be honest, and it’s definitely not the martinis.

Any and all uncertainty you had about Derek Morgan’s character is gone in a flash, as is the serenity, and is instead replaced by an overwhelming fire of rage because he is exactly what you thought he was. He’s a pig, a disgusting one at that, and no small one off conversation, or him buying your friends drinks, or how good he is with kids, or how great he is at the job will ever change that in your eyes.

While the alcohol may not be making you feel sick, it’s definitely doing a whole lot for this rage, feeding the flames and giving you the confidence to finally give Morgan a piece of your mind. However, you still have some semblance of self control and so, you hold back a little, but not completely.

“As if, Morgan.”

“Pretty girl, you don’t gotta play hard to get.”

His arrogance drips from every word that leaves his mouth, seeping from his pores like sap from a tree. The fact he genuinely believes that you aren’t saying no, is so full of himself he believes your dismissal is you ‘playing hard to get’ enrages you even more, fueling the fire of your rage for the last time. Grabbing his hand on your hip and shoving it off, you start talking, tone as bitter as ever.

“I am not playing hard to get, Morgan. I simply do not want you.”

“Woah, sweetheart, what’s all the hostility for?”

“Because you’re a classic player! You have no respect for women. You just think they’re there for you to fuck and move on.”

“You know what they say - ‘Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

“No. I do hate the player. You’re a self centered, egotistical, whorish bastard who doesn’t see women as anything but notches on his fucking bedpost. You don’t have any fucking respect for anyone that isn’t beneficial to you. People are not pawns in your game, women are not queens waiting to be conquered. Grow the fuck up, Morgan.”

Your words wiped the stupid smirk right off of his stupid face, left him speechless and expressionless, like a deer in headlights. Like your words, you left him standing there too, heading back to your friends at the booth. You were right. It was immensely gratifying.

tags: @darkmatilda

[sillymodezeenith]

I have a stupid rare blood disorder and I relate to this cat on a DEEPLY LITERAL level.

For background, I have Hereditary Hemochromatosis; which isn’t particularly rare. A lot of older adults discover they have it when it starts damaging their liver.

Basically, over simplified, you eat things, and absorb iron into your body. Yummy! Good for you! However, my body cannot get RID of iron, and absorbs more iron from the things I consume. Which means I have Too Much Iron. It’s dumb and painful (in a lot of weird ways???).

My liver damage started when I was 14. That is about the most abnormal thing that I could’ve possibly happened to me. There is one singular doctor in my entire state that’s had another juvenile HH patient, and he’d only ever met one (besides me). That’s STUPID. I genuinely cannot convey to you how fucked up and strange that is. I physically should not have been alive along enough to accumulate enough iron to make my organs upset. There’s definitely factors that made it worse, but to this day no one knows how or why I got enough iron that it was having profoundly negative effects.

I’ve been weird and fucked up my entire life and when I was 10~ish a doctor prescribed me iron supplements to see if I’d be, for simplicities sake, less fucked up. She did this without checking my iron levels, or doing any lab work. Anemia is common, some of my symptoms can look similar— Im also autistic and fucking love chewing on ice. That’s a stereotypical sign of anemia— so she just gave me iron and shooed me away. Unsurprisingly, I got worse relatively quickly (again, remember that most people don’t have issues with HH until they’re over 50). I stopped taking the iron supplements pretty fast, but that 4 years was the sharpest and most miserable decline of my life.

I picked up a LOT of weird, shitty, presumably unhealthy habits around then. At that point I still wasn’t diagnosed, and no one knew why I was so goddamn sick; but relevant to this post, I got a CRAZY caffeine addiction. A truly shocking level of caffeine intake. I mean, the amount and potency of what I was drinking meant that most doctors from that point on brushed off my medical issues as being a Freak with too much caffeine and told me to drink water and cut that out. Following medical advice had always made me feel Worse.

You will Never Guess what inhibits iron absorption.

Caffeine. Or, more specifically polyphenols, but the distinction doesn’t actually matter in this.

ALSO, related: You know how we all make fun of 17th century doctors for their obsessions with fluids and bloodletting.

Do you want to know the treatment for iron overload? They fucking took my blood. They just drained that shit and I FELT BETTER. The one treatment that’s pretty notoriously dunked on and made fun of for its lack of benefits. They just took my blood Out of my body, once a week, until I ran out of iron and just had normal blood. Therapeutic phlebotomies. That’s STUPID. It’s a stupid way for my body to work and it PISSES ME OFF!!!

Also final unrelated note, the doctor that discovered my iron overload was my PSYCHIATRIST— Hemochromatosis can cause/exacerbate symptoms similar to bipolar disorder, which I was in treatment for— and she was the ONLY DAMN PERSON to do her due diligence with ordering a full panel of labs, and discovering my iron was DANGEROUSLY HIGH. I owe her my fucking life. Not once did she do her job as my actual psychiatrist and spent 99% of our visits navigating the hospital system and finding specialists for me.

Sometimes I think a lot about my mom's cat

My mom's cat is a common domestic shorthair we found on the side of the road as a kitten

Regular cat, not a maine coon or one of those massive breeds. His mom was smaller than a loaf of bread

But in a sort of a Clifford The Big Red Dog situation, he grew super fast, and really really big, and took a super long time to stop growing

Worried that she was overfeeding him, she eased back his portions, but he stayed a massive round baby

When he started having kidney problems, she took him to the vet.

The vet took a look at him and said, "holy fuck, what are you feeding him", checked the nutritional listings on his chow, and told her "Yeah, maybe he's reacting badly to the amount of grain in this, try a meatier diet"

So my mom wound up special-ordering this specific high-protein prescription cat food made of like. Kangaroo meat or some shit that cost like sixty bucks a bag

And, as typical act two in an episode of House, he somehow got worse on the fancy specialized stuff that was supposed to be Primo Athlete Olympic Feline Blend

Like. WAY worse. His guts were inflamed and his kidneys were shutting down and he was all sore and HE WAS STILL HUGE, just miserable and sad

So shetook him back to the vet, where they had to help him pee (he was apparently close to bursting and had some kind of blockage too) and went "Yeah no this is NOT normal and we don't know what's going on, we're gonna do some tests but in the meantime you should go back to what he was eating before, at least that wasn't actively killing him" so she did

And he still wasn't great, but he also improved

And so they take his blood and do an ultrasound and a couple g's later she gets a call back like "this is gonna sound crazy, but we want you to put him on a low-meat diet. Just the least amount of protein and iron and shit. We need you to find the grainiest, filler-iest dollar tree kibble available and give him some of that bad bad shit"

And my mother is a woman of science. So she did

And he GOT BETTER

His energy picked back up, inflammation went down, he started drinking normally again, got back to pissing like a fuckin champion

And so it turns out that out of all the random ass freeway bonus cats we possibly could have scooped out of a ditch, WE got the one-in-a-million freak of nature with a SPECIFIC genetic defect that means a paleo protein free range diet is essentially poison and he THRIVES on cheap ass garbage

Like. He medically NEEDS junk food

I dont really understand how that works, but i cant argue with results.

If we had four of him, they'd outweigh my mom. And he's FINE

Also blind, but that's unrelated

Im not using him as a symbol or a metaphor or anything. I just keep catching myself thinking about my mom's Big Fucking Cat

[youvebeengalindafied]

This is all @polyarmy and @fiyeroba ‘s fault for making me sad about Glinda again so now I’m posting my whole Glinda Meta here (originally an obnoxiously long dm sent to @gamorahww who is a patient saint)

You’ve asked for it, and now you get……The Glinda Meta™

First: I have been obsessed w/ Glinda's character for like 15 years. She is my roman empire. But I also really LIKE her as a flawed character - something that the fandom has always seemed to be a little uncomfortable with.

She is, to me, what Jane Austen once wrote about Emma:

“I am going to write a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.”

Full meta character analysis under the cut. Uh. Strap in.

(This gets a lil long sorry, but PLEASE HEAR ME OUT -)

To me, the interesting thing is what actually - ACTUALLY - motivates Glinda to act the way she does is so much greater and deeper than a simple desire for success/fame/popularity.

Like obviously in literature/critique of narrative, we have this idea of protagonists vs supporting characters. Supporting characters might have philosophies or goals that drive them (think Nessa and Boq) but those philosophies and goals are usually not developed into self-contradictory nuance the way a protagonist's motivations are. They’re just facts about the character.

And in my option, a big problem in the wicked fandom is that everybody seems to treat Glinda as a supporting character whose motivations are easy to digest. To most fans, she's either the girlfriend who is there to support Elphaba's story by being "loving but conflicted." Or to critics she's entirely selfish and cruel (even as she's fun and interesting), and therefore a semi-antagonist

But if you step back and treat Glinda as a true antihero protagonist of Wicked (for the sake of the mental character study), you see that she's not actually motivated by love or popularity or even success....what drives her is desperation.

Glinda sees her world as a place that cannot be changed and will only work to destroy those who cannot correctly operate in it. And she is SO DESPERATE to avoid that. Elphaba's fate is actually her worst fear - she cannot break away from society and leap to a new fate, because she is the ultimate cynic who thinks there is no way that could possibly work. In fact, it's an enormous testament to her love (however you want to intepret that) of Elphaba that she's even willing to consider leaving during Defying Gravity. For a brief moment, her immense, incredible faith in Elphaba is almost enough to overcome her complete desperation to survive the horrible world she thinks she's in.

And that obviously means that she's not as noble as Elphaba or as brave as Fiyero as a character - she cannot make the choice to leave when both of them do at different points - but that's because she's the most "human" character in the story. Most people are not brave enough to become international terrorists, even in the face of great evil. We might join in a developed cause, but to knowingly walk towards what is likely one's death to change a system you know you’ll actually have very little effect on...that takes a very special kind of person. And while Glinda is a GOOD person, she is too much a cynic and too desperate to survive her crazy world to become that impossible standard of the Rebel or the Hero. She's just a flawed, scared girl, in circumstances she never dreamed she’d be in.

And then the craziest thing happens:

Rather than showing Glinda that she should have been brave and done what E and F did, the narrative instead goes and basically confirms all her darkest fears: Elphaba rebels...and her revolution fails, and Glinda loses her best friend to bitter hatred and insanity for most of Act 2. Fiyero decides to leave and do the right thing by going with Elphaba....and he is almost immediately murdered in a horrible, violent way as punishment for it. This can only reinforce for Glinda that the State/the System/the World is all-powerful, and she must bow to it.

But that's the most fascinating moment for her character, because the very moment she realizes the absolute overwhelming power of the system (March of the Witch Hunters) is also the very moment that chooses to die rather than perpetuating it. She leaves the City to approach Elphaba - whom Glinda thinks POSSIBLY WANTS TO KILL HER - and BEGS Elphaba to not die. Begs Elphaba to stop her self-sacrificial madness. Begs Elphaba to allow Glinda to sacrifice herself instead ("Then I'll go, I'll tell everybody the truth!" "No! They'll just turn against you!" "I DON'T CARE!" - this girl who is entirely motivated by survival is straight up throwing it all on the line ready to walk to her death at the hands of a mob with wide open, unblinking eyes)

And obviously, in doing so, she is making the same choice that Fiyero did earlier in the story, But the huge difference is that Fiyero is a classic case of a "dead from the beginning" character, and he does not have the same motivations as her. He starts as a nhilist already embracing death in Dancing Through Life and his character is not somebody who is desprate to survive - his character is driven by a desperation for a faith. And Elphaba (and her cause) is his faith that he happily martyrs himself for.

By contrast, Glinda is terrified of the system that is trying to kill her, and she is desperate to survive it. She sees the way it takes everything form her, again and again, destroying everything she loves - Elphaba, Fiyero, her own sense of goodness…

(And she is extremely genre-aware that she is in a tragedy: her world isn't fair, and she knows that Elphaba will fail. She knows this will all go wrong.)

But Glinda still has such strength of character that she - in the end - overcomes all of her fear, all of her weaknesses, and humbles herself at the pyre to join the people she loves so much in their fate. She both offers to die for Elphaba and she takes up Elphaba's work and dedicates her entire life to it, consequences be damned. And that comes from a place of ultimate love and goodness, despite all of her flaws and all the temptations dissuading her.

Because Glinda is not Elphaba or Fiyero - she isn't a starry-eyed optimistic rebel or a man with a obsessive, loving faith. She is just a girl. Just Emma. And she is extremely flawed, and has so many fears that push and pull at her in a way the other main characters do not experience. But despite being so painfully, humanly defective, her goodness allows her to do the right thing in the end.

tl;dr - the greatest thing about Glinda’s character is that she is flawed, and she is weak and makes all the wrong choices. But in the end, she humbles herself completely - to the point of offering her own life for Elphaba and taking the whole weight of the world on her shoulders despite all her fear - because she is ultimately good.

And thus in the end, she becomes the person that Elphaba so clearly sees her as throughout the story: good, caring, and able to make real change in the world. She will now try desperately to fully live up to Elphaba's incredible faith in her. And it's so heartbreaking and tragic, but also one of the best character arcs ever.

So I guess it's less "wants to stay safe in her bubble" and more "she sees no option other than to stay safe. The State/System is all-powerful and there is nothing she thinks she can do to change that. But the beauty of the character lies in her decision to step out of that bubble anyways."

—

BONUS: Glinda’s flaws in relation to her relationship with Elphaba

(Or why Gelphie is a devastating ship (romantically or not) but not in the way you think)

This section dedicated to the SJB/AA performance that just BREAKS ME.

Elphaba basically sees Glinda through some WILDLY rose-tinted glasses (which is just. such a fascinating insight into elphaba’s character). Which is why a good chunk of the fandom accepts it as fact that Glinda is ~not actually all that flawed~ or is somehow being forced to make the decisions she is (she is not. the narrative point of Fiyero’s character is to prove that lol)

Glinda is very much complicated and does make some truly terrible decisions. Elphaba just sees and believes the good in her, despite everything she does (because it’s also a fact of the story that - either platonically or romantically - she’s clearly a little in love with Glinda. (The passes she gives that girl…)). I don’t think her weird thing about Glinda is particularly rational, but it is undeniably all-consuming.

And that makes their relationship feel VERY human. Their flaws don't make them unworthy of each other’s love and respect and friendship. Elphaba's love of Glinda is pretty crazy in light of how much Glinda’s morals and choices differ from her own, but that’s the kind of love that real, sometimes illogical people have. Anybody trying to prove the logic or compatibility of the characters is kinda missing the point - it doesn’t make sense, and THAT’S how you know it’s love.

(Brief aside: similar to Elphaba’s obsession with Glinda, Fiyero is also irrationally obsessed with Elphaba. I mean, she kinda sucks at the whole revolution thing (she's trying!!) and he's clearly starry-eyed ignoring a LOT of her flaws lol. In contrast - for better or worse, Glinda does see Elphaba's flaws and calls them out, just as Elphaba sees Fiyero's flaws and calls him out. It’s a nice little circular relationship)

But…but….is it gay???

Sure. I think so - but I’m a lesbian who has shipped it since I was a preteen lol. But that’s also NOT THE POINT, and focusing on only the romantic angle of their relationship REALLY ignores just how layered and complex it is.

Taking off my squee shipping glasses for a minute: they’re fundamentally just two people in some version of an EXTREMELY intense relationship. I honestly think Glinda reads as a little terrified of how insanely intense her relationship is with Elphaba. She fears walking down that road and fully falling down the path of that intense, all-consuming love. (And we literally learn why later through Fiyero’s ‘death’ and Elphaba’s insanity. Love makes you do some crazy things.)

Regardless of whether you interpret them romantically or not - it’s clear they’re very intense about each other and Glinda is very afraid that Elphaba is her weakness. Unfortunately, Elphaba is also her soulmate and the love of her life, and she’ll come back to her always. That will ruin Glinda’s life in the end, but it will have been worth it for all the love that was there

[ethtyn]

LET'S GO OUT WITH A BANG 🚦

taglist:

@ashiyn @single-malt-scotch @goodtimeswithetho @pebbltree @crabbunch @catmaidetho @amethyst-allium @stitchthesewords

sooooo ermm i guess i get to talk about this piece now YIPPEE

i am one of those people who's constantly trying to figure out what their own art style looks like LMFAO. i take frequent breaks from art due to mental health shit so it feels like every time i come back i'm trying to find my footing again.

that being said, i had a lot of caffeine yesterday and started this on a whim and it ended up being something i'm incredibly proud of. i think it helps that i've been redrawing old emotes for a friend's twitch channel, so figuring out which brushes i like right now was really helpful, and i ended up using my personal emote palette like...a lot. that pink in Etho's eye, the purple used for shading, most of the browns are all used in my own emotes. it's wild how much having colours already picked out streamlines things!

Etho is the one i started with, of course, and ended up being one that i went back to re-draw after i'd done...three? or four? more, because the sizing wasn't right and i wasn't happy with the posing. i still wish i could have conveyed him dipping his chin into his coat fluff a little better, but oh well. i thought of the little detail of him looking at Martyn's drawing at the last second (#ethtyn4life) and it made me laugh so i did it. points to you if you caught that!

Joel was the second - life!Joel has always been fey in my head, especially after that season when he just went batshit insane the second he turned red. can't explain it, that's just how it be. i tried to give him an air of subtle menace about him but i think he just looks sleepy 💀 i'd like to do these as individual, larger pieces at some point, so maybe i can work on that more then.

Grian was the third - he reminds me of a Lost Boy here and that wasn't intentional but the Lost Boys always kind of freaked me out and life!Grian's kinda freaky so i think it fits. his little smirk is so creepy and i love him.

i don't remember who i did next after this so we'll just go in order pfft

Bdubs is SO CUTE look at him. one of the few where i couldn't make a menacing expression work, and honestly with how good his profile turned out i barely mind. i did that side profile with no reference, y'all, idk what kind of crack i was on last night. what the hell. this was about the point where i started wanting to do little lore doodles for everybody so i added the clock face - i think it clashes with the red background but what can you do.

CLEOOOOOO CLEO CLEO. i LOVED drawing them, i think their design is one of my favourites of the bunch. her hair has always been snakes in my head and AGAIN i drew those with no reference, can you fucking believe that. i loved the little detail of some of the snakes poking at the people next to her, they're so cute hehe. also Cleo has freckles now, i'm so sorry but i don't make the rules. someone complimented the teeth in the reblogs and THANK YOU!! they're not quite anatomically correct but fuck it we ball and they look cool as hell anyway.

Martyn is so smug, i love him. points if you caught that he's looking at Cleo bc Double Life, i wanted to do something a lil different with him than just another straight up symmetry tool drawing and i think it fits. he is so eye-searing tho sir please tone it down.

Lizzie is fey just like her husband, and also she is smol. i don't think it's conveyed as well as i'd like here but i also didn't want her to look like a straight-up child so i did what i could. she is So Scary with those vacant blue eyes oh my god. and drawing her hair was sooooo fun i love long hair ahh

with Gem i basically smoothed out a rough design sketch i posted awhile back and i'm so proud of the little head cock she's got going on, she looks so cool. also her hair?? idk how i did that. i love her swoopy bangs so much.

Pearl is moth. Pearl will always be Moth. so she got lil antennae and big buggy eyes. drawing that hood was so satisfying, i used to try and draw Raven Teen Titans in high school and could never get the hood to look right so seeing this one come out perfectly was sooooo good. and of course had to include a teensy moon.

that's all i've got, i think - i feel myself crashing LMFAO. maybe at some point i'll come back and say more but here's this for now!

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

How could you love somebody like me?

Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.

Edited - because I forgot to change the most important detail, of course. I’m not myself if I’m not doing a mess. Yay. It’s okay now.

“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”

“No,” he whispers. 

“So what?” 

Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.

You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.

His face went pale when he saw you like that. 

Eyes wide open. 

Mouth agape. 

He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.

Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides. 

He seems anchored to the ground. 

His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.

A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable. 

“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.

You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff. 

“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.

You have been in this room for two days. 

Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out. 

Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room. 

Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone. 

You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning. 

“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl. 

Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.

“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.  

"What?" 

“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.

His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.

“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest. 

"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.

“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”

He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you. 

"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance. 

“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you. 

Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.

You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it”. 

The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration. 

_____________

“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.” 

A pause and a sigh. 

”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”

You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening. 

You smiled. 

His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling. 

Until you heard something else. 

A booming laugh. 

Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.

“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right. 

Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady. 

“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”

Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.

But then why did it hurt so much? 

You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask. 

But you know that crooked smile. 

He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work." 

He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background. 

Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”

And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.

You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you. 

You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.

You wanted some proof before you charged him. 

If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool. 

He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck. 

He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.

He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.

And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties. 

This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him. 

His phone was on the bedside table.

It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.

You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times. 

You tried twice without success. 

The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it. 

You were in. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen. 

And there they were.

Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.

You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.

There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita. 

Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry. 

Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.

You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.  

“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”

“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”

And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum. 

Was he ever sincere with you?

________

When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.

He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”

“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.

He doesn’t reply. 

Instead he comes closer and closer. 

You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one. 

“Please,” he whispers. 

“No.” 

“Don't do that.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.

”I know...” 

“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”

You pull back until you hit the wall behind you. 

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. 

It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. 

It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.

You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. 

He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” 

He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”

And yet, you’re still here.

You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him. 

You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.

It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.

He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.

His hands run over your hips and you groan. 

His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin. 

He makes you cry, but you don't say no.

His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.

You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure. 

His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head. 

Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts. 

He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.

His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.

You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.

There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.

Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change. 

You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart. 

Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.

You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out. 

His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back. 

You want him inside you. 

You need him inside you.

And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.

You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.

The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.

It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency. 

You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want. 

He is the knife and the wound at the same time.  

When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”

Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.

You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices. 

He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.

You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.

His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. 

Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart. 

“Fuck me,” you groan. 

He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.

Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.

You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?” 

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.

You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.

Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.

At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.

It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you” 

You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.

You come, weeping.

Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.

But there’s no hope anymore.

You know you can’t go on like that.

You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.

A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.

It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with. 

You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.

He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.

You’re hopeless and breathless. 

He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave. 

You know you have to. 

Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.

“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”

When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.

“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts. 

Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times? 

You don’t reply.

"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you type on your phone and send it to him, before coming out of the door without turning your back.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel.

There will be two broken hearts. 

You know he loves you and you love him.

He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul. 

He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.

You are tired of fighting for the both of you.

You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Do you need someone to accompany you?” 

“No, thank you.”

“Someone could follow you,” he counters.

“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”

You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. 

None of this happens.

The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed

Archive tag: @pedrostories

If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎

[mayapapaya33]

Well, I haven't read the origins comic yet, so I'll take your word for that. Some of the comic stuff is a bit wibbly on canon so I'm not sure if I do take it as campaign canon really, but I'll just go with it for the purposes of this conversation. (The fact that she never once mentions being run out of town by Yeza in the campaign makes that a little weird but sure ok. It also feels a little retconny to brush over her major fear that her family would reject her even if they DID know it was her under the curse, which was what was implied to be a big reason she stayed away in the campaign, in favor of it being because they DID chase her away based purely on what she looked like before she could say anything. It feels...strange. I'm not sure how I feel about it, I'll have to think about it. It just feels like after the fact justification of her staying away from them to me, but oh well. LET WOMEN BE FLAWED 2025! lol I am eventually going to get my hands on all of the origins comics, I just haven't done so yet.)

My point wasn't really a moral argument about Veth and Lilliana having done equally bad things in the world, obviously that's not true. I could have said It better, but I guess I just thought that was obvious and I was tired? lol, silly me. So to make it clearer: Veth is a hero who helped save the world, and Liliana fell in with a cult and did terrible things under the woefully misguided belief she was doing the right thing. I'm more saying I could see Veth turning out like Liliana if things went differently and their initial act of abandonment is fundamentally similar. Also, it's not just the hag thing btw, that was just the most obvious and memorable example I could reference and know everyone would know what I was talking about without writing a 5 page essay and hunting down obscure time stamps lol.

Another example was her stance in that discussion about justice and vengeance from ep 98 (26:26) with Caduceus. Cad basically said: Hey, going after criminals in the Empire sounds great if you can be smart about it, but if you're just doing it to make yourself feel better, I don't really see the point of that, so maybe don't because you'll probably restart the war if you aren't extremely careful. And Veth's response was very understandable from her characters pov, but makes me think that, yeah, in the right circumstances, she'll do what she wants, when she wants, and damn the consequences and it won't be about justice, it'll be about making herself feel good and she'll find the internal justification she needs to. "You can stand by -You can just watch bad people get away with it?" If the price of stopping one bad person is reigniting a WAR, um yeah, I can Veth. He's basically saying, don't cause more problems than you are going to fix by your actions, and interrogate your motivations and she wasn't having it. I think he might have gotten through to her in the end but I'm not sure because they "dissolved" using mouth sounds and hand waving into the next scene of Jester finding Marion.

There are many things that make me think this about her. Anger and desperation can cause people to make poor decisions. (I think you might have misconstrued the one bit where I was debating whether letting your family think you were dead and staying gone or just saying goodbye and abandoning them was actually worse or not, I personally vote dead being worse but I'm genuinely not sure, like I said. So, in that one aspect I think Veth's worse, but not for everything lol. The misguided hope left behind from what Liliana did might be worse.)

My point was that they both abandoned their families in order to solve a problem. Yes, Liliana left "voluntarily" right from the start in the sense that she wasn't kidnapped by goblins and transformed against her will, her "against her will change" was foisted upon her by a God Eater trapped in moon jail instead. She was essentially kidnapped by her own powers, she couldn't control them and needed to figure out what they were and how to deal with them. So yes, it was a choice for her to leave as you so aptly pointed out, just not quite as voluntary a choice as people keep presenting it as. I suppose it's more accurate for me to say it was Liliana's choice to leave, and Veth's choice to STAY gone (yes, even with the addition of the comic lore).

Don't you remember early campaign Imogen constantly having to be careful and worried about her telepathy? How it hurt her to be in large crowds? How her town DID treat her like garbage, like a pariah, "like an outright monster" even. It's not like Liliana left for fun. She was scared she was going to hurt someone if she didn't learn how to control herself, and worried that Imogen would develop those powers too. (That was her initial reasoning, and then things devolved of course). You said it yourself; The Grim Verity was taking too long, and she wanted to go home so she fell in with Ludinus and co because he promised answers and a solution.

Veth's initial separation from her family OBVIOUSLY wasn't her fault, and apparently in the comics she tried to go home and was run off for looking like a goblin. Well, that truly sucks for Comic Book Veth and she has my sympathy. There are still a variety of things she could have done, including once she befriended Caleb enough where she trusted him, have him go to Yeza in person and explain the curse and everything while she hid at the outskirts of town. She could have told Caleb a bunch of things only Veth would know to help convince Yeza, Etc.

At a certain point, Veth's Choice to stay away from her family was just as voluntary as Liliana's. She could have tried (or tried again if comics are canon) at any time, and she didn't. The problem wasn't solved so they "couldn't" go home and then events spiraled. Again, they aren't the same, I just think their situations parallel each other interestingly. Becoming "not a goblin" was not the only way for Veth to reunite with her family. It's perfectly understandable that she thought that it was considering all of her trauma and her shame and her fear, but that doesn't make it true. It was still an active choice that she made to not try to reunite with her family until she looked "normal" again, even once her circumstances had changed and she could have had help. She didn't try because she didn't want her family seeing her like that and because she was scared of what they would think. (Again, very understandable, but still a choice). What if Caleb couldn't find a way to change her back into a halfling? Would she never have gone home, continuing to look for a solution?

Liliana "couldn't" go home until she understood and could control her powers, a reasonable yet tragic decision, which then spiraled into it being that she "couldn't" go home until she helped "save" the world from the tyranny of the Gods, etc. Somewhat less reasonable I think you'll agree. How long does Veth's decision to not try (or not try again) to reunite with her family until she's no longer a goblin remain reasonable? One year? Five years? Ten years? It was a combination of luck and hard work that got her a new body as relatively fast as she did. Caleb and Essek meeting and becoming magic bffs might never have happened without Caleb's "I'm never going back to jail" moment in the Bright Queen's throne room for example lol.

More than all of that though, I'm not a huge fan of Veth's parenting while she IS present in Luc's life but seeing as Liliana hasn't really been present in Imogen's life for more than like a month, that's about where any parallels or comparisons stop lmfao. A lot of Veth's bad parenting once she's back in Luc's life is also due to the fact that Sam Riegel is a comedian first and an actor second so if he sees an opportunity to be funny, he'll pounce. Which unfortunately for poor Veth, does mean that if you look at her with a sober eye she comes across as a dreadful parent. Hilarious of course, but I did end up feeling bad for Yeza whenever I saw him futilely trying to be responsible whenever the M9 came trampling through their lives being bad influences. Honestly, she wonders why teenage Luc is like that! I learned it from watching you mom!

If the Good Moms of Critical Role ever learn about the shit Liliana's pulled it's on sight 😤

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART FOUR

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: after facing an intense altercation, it leads you to another one of sae-byeok’s interrogation.

wc. 1.8k

warnings: homophobia, acts of violence, smoking, angst

(nowhere girl masterlist)

The sun was right above your head, scorching it. The brightness of the sun blinds your vision as you make your way to the dining hall. Although everyone around you couldn’t stop talking about how hot the weather is today, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about your brief encounter with Sae-byeok two nights ago.

You kept replaying your time with her at the convenience store. It was an uneventful experience funnily enough; you two sat down in front of the store window quietly eating your food. It seems like there is nothing to analyze about this exchange, but to you, you liked it because of the sheer tranquility. No talking which meant no bickering, you both just sat down sharing the serenity that comes with midnight. You haven’t felt that much peace this past month. A part of you hopes to get that feeling again soon.

Just as you turn a corner into the alleyway you feel yourself bump into a person twice your size.

“Sorry.” you quickly apologize to whoever you collided into and try to usher around them only for them to block you with their body. Eyebrows furrowed, you peer up to see who’s preventing you from walking away.

The guy who is blocking you is tall and buff, freshly buzzed cut, tattoos littering around both his forearms and a cigarette between his teeth.

“You’re Yoon’s friend, right?” he asks, his voice exuding mockery. Two of his friends appear behind him like a couple of bodyguards. You scowl but your mouth refuses to open to talk.

“Yoon told me she let you sleep over at her dorm because—I don’t know you got kicked out of the house or something? Do you mind telling me and my friends why that is, hm?”

“You know the answer to that. Don’t mock me.” you whisper, voice trembling. Your little act of bravery isn’t working.

“Don’t talk to me like that, you fucking pervert.” he sneers. “You came up with that bullshit excuse of getting thrown out by your parent’s house so you can watch Yoon and her roommates change.”

“What?” you gape.

“That’s the problem with people like you…Well, I can’t in good conscience let you go around harassing women for your sick pleasure. Can’t I?” he looks at his friends who grunt in approval.

“Fuck you I never did any of that shit!”

You try walking backwards to escape the situation only to have the guy grip on your arm and squeezing it tightly. The grip he had on you was so tight you were beginning to feel afraid that he might actually rip your arm off of your body. Tears brim from the corner of your eyes and you begin to cry out for help.

“Stop acting so innocent now. You know what you did—and we are the only ones who can fight this injustice your inflicting upon people.”

“Let me go!” you cry, basically plead. “I never did anything you said. P—Please.”

Everything around you suddenly turned white and when you got your field of vision back to normal suddenly you were on the floor. Realization quickly crept up—you just got punched by the main guy, hard. As his friends roar with laughter, he uses one hand to pull you back up by your collar.

“I don’t like liars.” he tuts and with his free hand he grabs the cigarette between his teeth. “I don’t have anywhere to light off this cigarette.”

“Really?” one of his friends speak up, faking an act of innocence. “You got something right here.” he points at you.

They all begin to laugh again while you’re still squirming and hyperventilating. Your vision becomes blurry as you whip your head around hoping that a bystander notices you are in danger and come to rescue you but you see no one. The only thing you can do is think quickly or this situation will turn out even uglier.

You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the three guys, past their shoulders. “Officer right over here!” you shout to no one in the distance.

The guys all whip their heads behind them in fright, thinking they just got caught. That’s when you use your free hand to snatch the cigarette from the main guy and press the burning end of the cigarette on the hand that’s gripping yours. Instead of letting go though, the guy yelps and trips on air causing you both to collapse. You quickly spit in his face, making him flinch back and shout curses at you. He was cursing so loudly that his own spit struck your face.

You manage to wiggle your way out of his grasp. As you crawl away from him, you grab the pack of cigarettes that fell from his pockets then absolutely book it.

Run, run, run is all your mind is thinking. Run, run, run and don’t look back for a second.

✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Sae-byeok thought it was nice of her to spend her only free time to walk to the convenience store with you the other night. After that quiet excursion, she expected you to start coming back to the apartment at a reasonable time.

But no one, not Sae-byeok, not Cheol, or even Ji-yeong has seen nor heard from you today.

Before Ji-yeong pointed fingers at Sae-byeok again she hurriedly explained that she actually settled things down with you, which was a half-lie half-truth situation. Of course, she didn’t buy it. In order to prove herself, Sae-byeok joined Ji-yeong who sat outside the apartment to wait for you. But it was almost one in the morning and Ji-yeong had work in the morning so she dialed your phone one last time, if you didn’t answer she’d go back to the apartment and report you as missing the next night. However, Sae-byeok decided to wait a little longer seeing as she doesn’t have to do anything but drop off Cheol at school tomorrow.

Thirty minutes later, Sae-byeok watches a shadowy figure walk in the direction of the apartment building. She holds her breath, anticipating it was you. When the person got closer she saw the familiar portfolio tote and laptop, that’s when she knew.

Sae-byeok’s face morphs into confusion when notices how you were stumbling, like it was hard for you to walk.

“Are you alright?” she asks. You just kept trudging until you made it to the staircases where you inevitably sat down. Slowly, Sae-byeok makes her way towards you. Something was off she could sense it.

“Yeah.” you say barley above whisper. But she isn’t buying it. She sits beside you, trying to look at your face but you look the other way before she can notice something. “What’re you doing?”

“Are you sick or something?”

“No, it’s just—hey!”

Sae-byeok pushes strands of hair back and caught the purple shiner imprinted on your cheek. You gasp and clumsily cover yourself again.

“Shit.” she says breathily. “What happened?”

You hug your chest and stare down at your knees in shame. Sae-byeok of all people shouldn’t have seen you like this. Now there’s no way around this.

“Some guys from my school cornered me in the alleyway.” you reply weakly.

“Why?”

“Long story.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t pry any further. You didn’t tell her some bullshit excuse like slipping and hitting a table. You actually sounded…truthful?

Besides, she can sense you’re still in pain and talking about the reason why you’re in pain isn’t going to help you. So, she rises to sprint back to the apartment. You wonder if she’ll come back with Ji-yeong so they can get an answer out of you. Instead, she comes back with an ice pack, two pain killers pills, and a bottle of water and quietly passes it off to you.

“Thanks.” you mumble and swallow the pain killers while pressing the ice pack on your cheek, wincing. You both sit in silence like this for a minute, that’s when you start to feel your chest grow heavy. “…Is the bruise that bad?”

Your vulnerability and pleading made Sae-byeok’s heart sink. She won’t admit it—but something about how fragile you sounded reminded her of a younger Sae-byeok, back when she first came to South Korea.

“Yeah.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t approve of your attire. Only because even though it’s spring time, the night breeze is still cool enough to make someone shiver. You were currently wearing a green frilly skirt that sat above your knees paired with an oversized graphic shirt. The scrape on your knee was still dry with blood, you kept looking at it and tried pulling your skirt to cover it, it was obvious you weren’t comfortable.

“Where are you going?” Sae-byeok asks when you got back up and started walking away.

“I don’t wish to bother you so I’ll just be at the twenty four hour cafe that’s a few blocks away.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t get you. She feels like she’s about to go mad.

“Hey, what’s your deal?” Sae-byeok asks. You pause walking and spin on your heels to look at her. “Could you quit being reckless?”

You don’t understand her. Sae-byeok isn’t obligated to look after you. You actually feel quite bad for making her stay up this late.

“I’m not—I don’t think I am.” you murmur and lower the ice pack cooling your bruised cheek.

“You are.” she says bluntly. “You’ve been acting suspicious from the start, you keep running away and now all of a sudden you came with bruises and now that I’ve seen them you try to run away again?”

That’s the most you heard her speak. You don’t know if you should feel honored or embarrassed.

Sae-byeok stands up, her guards are up you just know it. Her posture straightens and her dark sharp eyes bore right into your skull like she’s trying to get into your head. Your breath hitches so you take a few steps backwards.

“I’m trying not to disturb you more than I already have these past few days. I feel like I’m breaking everything I touch so...” you trail off. Sae-byeok remains immovable.

Apart from the suspicious bruising littering your body, it hits Sae-byeok that she has nothing on you. She can’t risk living dangerously anymore now that she has Cheol under her care, but could you really threaten their way of living?

“You’re limping.”

“I should be fine these are my comfiest sneakers.” you say. “I’ll be back in an hour. I promise.”

Sae-byeok rolls her eyes. “I have to come with you now.” she says like it is the most obvious option. “Or Ji-yeong will blame me again.”

You have a feeling that she’s hard headed when it comes to decision making. So silently, you let her trail behind you as you make your ways towards the cafe in the brisk of midnight.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6

[sinsodom]

Through with all.

What i don't get is the fans reaction. You point out that he is so bad. Please where?? We still don't know shit what happened and why?? Why judge a cover by it's book??

What did he do besides saving the kid meanwhile tucking her to bed cause she had a fever?? If a possessive man wants to lock a person up, they can. He never really kept her away, just giving her the choice to stay back and mc just doesn't. He even says it. But MC just sucks and cant stay back. (and yes he knew she can escape, hello??)

Don't get me wrong here. He is weird. But you guys complain more abt that than that he came back and Mc just was like: oh what a happy sunday!! Lets go home and sleep in his place and continue our lives.

Until now we know that we know nothing. And saying that he is a bad guy is just as always too fast imagining. If he is undercover he has to do some things. Nothing points clearly out that he is on the bad side.

Most of you don't know how life works, it showed. Undercover you cant take risks. The drugging part wasn't even one?? Hes a colonel and can't tell what he does so he gave her the choice. She didn't trust him so he had to act. (wasn't too inoortant to get kevi cause when she wanted, shed leave) First mc is persistent and can't be beaten and than shes not finding out what's up with all?? Come on.

All in all. Im sure he is undercover to find out all about the fleet, experiments and co. To save mc again. What they all did and do. Mc is just too proud to clearly make him tell all, like she did before. She prefers the easier way.

So no. Caleb is no Bad guy. He is just undercover and MC absolutely doesnt follow. Up with him so he had to control her somehow. After Kevi got saved i was like: ooooh he knew and instead of bothering her, they did it. And mc fucks it up again. Sorry but i would drug her too.

All in all i am shocked how dark the community wants him to be. Making and forcing up conclusions and theories that don't even fit. A bit dark is okay but you want him to be basically ww2 asshole. What is wrong with you guys. Rapes and shit?? Forced?? Are you crazy?? Chillaxx.... He isnt what you want him to be. Accept it. And wait for the future facts from him.

Until now he is sacrifing everything he has and feels for mc. Lets not forget that mc is always a target cause of her core....

For me, mc is absolutely disappointing in reacting to caleb. Cant always be 1 with her but the whole story she reacted wrong for me being devot all the time and just eating all with no further things. I wouldn't talk a word to him and look at him until he explains something. That was like: yes please hurt me again and again, no matter the consequences, mc needs it.

Ew. Story was good, community just kinda ruined it.... Sadly.

Have a nice day yall 💚

Ps: NO ONE reacts like this, having a beloved back when you thought he is dead. No one. Facts.

[blue-arkhamknight]

Omg hiiii you seem cool ! And I’ve had this Jason Todd idea in my head for a bit so

What if the reader is basically his nurse he comes to her for every little cut to actual serious injuries

And this is normal but one night when he stops by to have her help with something small he realizes she sick ,fever ,chills the works and she’s stubborn but he wants to help his nurse

Just some good hurt comfort ,kinda the tables have turned

This could also totally be written as gender neutral reader instead of fem

Have a good day !

Tysm!! I actually love this idea. I have delivered (not too much well though) . Thank you for requesting and have a good day too!

Images do not belong to me and I am not a doctor or a nurse! This is all with my Dr. Mike knowledge.

I changed it a bit sorry 😿

Chicken Soup and Netflix.

Warnings: Sick reader and some deep brief detail about the sickness.

── .✦

── .★

Jason is… a bit odd to say the least. Very tall and muscular with the peculiar trait to have his face scrunched up in the waiting room of one of Gotham’s hospitals. You might ask, well what’s Jason doing there? Simple, he got a cut. Slicing some apples that his lazy brother Dick didn’t want to slice himself.

But he didn’t go there to see any nurse that could quickly attend him. No, that’d be too easy! Might as well just buy a simple bandaid and stick it on his finger then call it a day, which he absolutely can. He just doesn’t want to. This time and like any other time he went to that hospital (which was all the time) he asked for the same specific nurse. You.

“Alright, Jason. To what do I have the pleasure of seeing you for the sixth time in four days?” you questioned as you finally attended Jason. He still glared at you because for his logic, you took too long in attending him. Reality was that you were just working on a patient that was going to get a CT scan, after all, patients should be hydrated before the scans… And you were not feeling well in all honesty. Of course, Jason noticed your held in sneezes and cold shivers, but he didn’t say anything for now, fearing he would be wrong and make a fool of himself.

He held up his left index finger, showing the small cut on full display. “I cut myself.” he explained dryly as you stared at him like he was the dumbest person on Earth. You silently sighed, at the sight of his dumb cut, but also because you felt like absolute crap. “You do know about the existence of bandaids, right?” you said as you pulled out a box of them after you questioned him on how the cut occurred like with any patient. There was no need for an experienced doctor here and waste their time like you were wasting yours, even if you felt the slightest pang of something by Jason’s often demands to be attended by you out of everyone on the field.

“This is very serious! It could get infected and I need medical assistance.” he quickly defended himself. He was cradling his finger as if it would fall off. Your eyes looked at the tiny cut while you held in that very annoyed eye roll. Once you had ‘cured’ him as he called it, he stopped with the frowns. He was indeed sad that it was quick, but hey. It’s a win situation for him because got to see your face!

“Achoo!”. What? Jason’s head immediately whipped from where he was standing at the door to behind him. His hand dropped from the door knob and moved his body to face you. “…Are you sick?” he asked with his normal stoic voice, though his face was the smallest bit softer than usual. “What- no, no, no!” you rapidly declined with a very, very stubborn frown, though you were wrong. So wrong. Chills, shivers, fever, and held in coughs and sneezes.

How had he not noticed?! You looked awful and he hadn’t helped! “Sit down.” he said, though it sounded much more harsher than he intended it to be and what made it sound like a command when it wasn’t. Which rightfully so, it earned a deeper frown and a scoff from you. Truly, he was as stoic as a rock, but of course that didn’t stop the pang on his heart. The one that screamed at him ‘Stop being a nuisance and help!’, but shhh shhhh! He needs to be nonchalant, guys! Though he was always welcomed to be as chalant as he wanted.

────

After lots and lots and lots and lots of talking he finally did it. Jason convinced you to leave work and call in sick. With of course the very logical excuse that a nurse shouldn’t go to work ill, they will get sick other patients and potentially making them feel worse. Guilt tripping much, but you had to admit. The guy had a very good point.

Conveniently, Jason got to be your ride home. Again, he reasoned that you shouldn’t go on the bus and risk getting people sick. “But what about you, smart ass?” you asked sarcastically, though your words held deep inside concern of getting sick this regular patient with whom you’ve had deep talks like good friends. It all held its own deep meaning nonetheless, the glances he stole, the scoffs, the frowns, the eye rolls, and the effort he put into seeing you at the hospital. Every small injury he got, intentional or not, was an excuse to see you.

“You’ve helped me enough. Let me be of use this time.” he said as his motorcycle came to a stop. Jason hopped out first, carefully taking your hand and helping you get down. Though before you could say thank you, or huff at him, you quickly had to cover your mouth and sneeze, making you sigh and disinfect your hands so you could later wash them. You groaned at the cold, violently shivering while you walked up to your apartment complex. Jason trailed behind you in deep thought. Suddenly there was a welcoming warmth around your shoulders, a brown jacket.

If Jason could admit, it was definitely freezing. He had taken off his own jacket for your own safety. Not wanting your state to get any worse and as much as he doesn’t want to admit, he absolutely despises the horrible condition you are in. He doesn’t like it. Not the paleness, the shivering, the sneezes, the disgusting phlegm sounding coughs, and the eye bags. In conclusion? He had the case of being utterly worried and hiding it behind a stoic mask.

Clearly his jacket was welcomed since you didn’t give any sign of protest, other than huff. Even if you still didn’t want to admit it you were sick as hell and he was going to leave you alone. After all, you had helped him too many damn times with the dumbest stuff. As you both made it through the complex he saw an elevator and quickly guided you to it. “Number.” he said gruffly, leaving you confused, “Number?…” you repeated as a question. He grumbled looking at you, “Floor number.” Jason specified, making you mentally go: ‘Ohhhhh.’. “Right- Sixth floor.” you said looking at him as he gave a nod and pressed the elevator button with the number six on it.

Shortly you went into a coughing fit, covering your mouth. Jason took a notice, his hand snaking to your back and slightly patting your back. He could feel the violent shivers. Once the elevator opened and he made sure you stopped coughing, he gently pushed you off the floor elevator and trailed behind. You started walking towards your apartment. Opening the door you turned to him.

“…You can.. uh come in if you want.” you muttered, your voice getting hoarser by the time. Jason, still internally concerned gave a nod waiting for you to get inside. “How’s your finger? Still lethal?” you asked as you stepped inside, trying to loosen the tense air. He shrugged, looking at his index finger that wore the smallest bandage, “…I suppose I can last a few more hours.” he said following your tone. A hum escaped your throat, “Maybe you need some IV’s.” you said as he stepped behind you and closed the door, getting a “Definitely.” from him.

You settled down your stuff, crashing down in the couch and thats all Jason needed. He looked around and walked to the kitchen, looking for stuff to at least make a soup for you. Surprisingly he isn’t a bad cook. Grabbing the necessary ingredients to make a simple chicken soup. You looked at him from the couch, eyes lidded with exhaustion and a twinge of guilt.

“You don’t have to cook you kn-“ you spoke up, getting cut off by a stern stare of him making your sentence die down. He opened a cabinet after another, stopping when he found medicine, reading each of the labels until he saw one that was needed for your symptoms. He finished cooking the soup and poured it into a bowl and set it aside to cool down a bit. Jason then opened your fridge to grab a water bottle. His steps echoed through the silent apartment.

He stopped in front of you, handing you the bottle of water and the medicine, fixing his jacket so it covered you and kept you warm and sat you up. “Thanks…” you mumbled and took them as you sat up with his help on the couch. Jason gave another nod, “Yeah no problem.” he answered. He walked again to the kitchen and grabbed the soup bowl, a spoon and went to sit next to you. Gently, he handed you the bowl and looked around. Seeing this you gave him the TV control and he gladly took it.

Jason played a random movie in your Netflix account as you ate slowly the soup he had carefully made, his jacket around you. Your legs were in a butterfly position on the couch and slowly leaned your head on his shoulder while you kept eating the soup. Then there was a weight on your own head and another around your shoulders, his thumb rubbing against your shoulder. “Guess who’s the nurse now?” he teased, making you roll your eyes, but at last, it was nice to be taken care of instead to take care of.

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──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

SORRY IF THIS WAS BAD!! English isn’t my first language, but I’m trying to be better at writing!! Hope you liked it a little bit.

[startheskelaton]

So seeing that one One spark post, I have to ask, does Shockwave care that Soundblaster is in a relationship with Megatron's daughter? Or Nightflyer for that matter?

Shockwave’s relationship with his son is very complicated. Soundblaster was supposed to be the perfect replacement for Soundwave, from personality, to look, everything. However when he was finished, he looked only vaguely like him (this was because sharp features are considered attractive in Cybertonian society, so he pulled a Victor Frankenstein and tried to make him as beautiful as possible without realizing he was going overboard).

The thing was… he did create a pretty good Soundwave replacement, he loved music and art, he looked out for others and he loved his creator very much. But that wasn’t what Shockwave wanted. In reality, he wanted what he thought Soundwave was, cold, never speaking, calculating and mysterious. And he would force those traits onto Soundblaster.

Basically all the conflicted feelings Shockwave had towards Soundwave, he took them out on his son. So any relationship he had, Shockwave would try and reinforce any resentment that might exist.

Nightflyer is getting closer to Soundblaster? Let’s show him how much Nightflyer is loved by the public and his family. He’s in a relationship with Sparkplug? Let’s remind him of how she’s still very in love with Nightflyer and tell him she could leave him at any time.

However he’s a more aggressive when it comes to Sparkplug, he actually liked Nightflyer due to his ability to overlook some moral ethics in the name of science. Sparkplug is the daughter of the man that stole Soundwave away from him, she has a strict moral code, she’s even flanked by Rumble and frenzy a lot of the time. He fucking despises her.

With Nightflyer, he just wanted to make sure his son died sad and alone like him. With Sparkplug, he had to try and stop history from repeating itself.

[the-inkwell-variable]

author ask tag

thank you so much for the tag, @the-golden-comet! ooh this is gonna be fun!

i'm going to focus on my current wip, Why Should I Be Careful? I'm Going To Die Anyway! because it's still very much in the planning stages (despite how much I'm writing for it) and I have Thoughts

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I'll be honest, I haven't really thought that far ahead. I suppose, if there is a lesson to take from WSIBC?IGTDA!, it might be that you should always chase your goals and desires, and screw what other people think. Maybe put a little more thought and planning into yours than Aura does hers, though. I mean, she almost dies due to her recklessness. Don't be like Aura.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Well, it's a zombie book - I love zombies, in case you can't tell - so the world is an amalgamation of zombie stuff I love. The zombies are based off of the Train to Busan zombies. This is a self-insert mess, so I'm using the town and people I know in the town as location and characters. Little tropes here and there that I love in movies and books alike. It's just a big chimera of stuff that I grab from stuff I remember and shove into it. It definitely needs polish when it's done, but I'm having a blast so far, so I'm'a keep doing it :3

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

Uhhhhhh this is a tough question. Right now, Aura is trying to make it to Roger's Grocery Mart to save her girlfriend, but most of the time, she's just trying to have a good time in the zombie apocalypse and hopefully not die. She does eventually grow into a character that (mostly) thinks things through and takes other people's situations into account, so I suppose the lesson is "the world doesn't revolve around you - be kind and helpful to others"?

As for what I'm trying to achieve... mostly, to be honest, I just want people to pick up my book and have a good time reading it. I want to write a zombie book because it's my passion and because there aren't enough zombie books out there. I guess I'm trying to inspire others? To show them that you can survive an impossible situation if you work hard and think things through?

How many chapters is your story going to have?

The only time I've written a full-length book (sorry, the only two times, forgot about Zero: ALPHA), it had about twenty-odd chapters. Z:A had...uh...thirty? That was a long time ago and I sadly no longer have that draft. This one is going to go until it's done. Hopefully more than thirty though!

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! I have no idea where I'm going to post it. I'm torn between Draft2Digital (originally Smashwords) or Substack. Thing is, I'm really bad at marketing and keywords and all that technical stuff that goes into publicizing, so I'm really hesitant to share it at all. I'm the type of person that gets absolutely morally devastated if my own self-inflicted goals aren't met, and I'm not sure if I can handle that kind of crushing heartbreak with this one lol

So yeah. Might publish, might not. Unsure right now.

When did you start writing?

My dad set up a Windows 95 computer for me in his office, his old one, and taught me the basics of using it. I was five, about to turn six. I immediately sat down and wrote a story about unicorns. I've been writing ever since.

I didn't start writing fanfiction until I was thirteen and had just binge-watched Lord of the Rings for the first time. We don't talk about those works. They were awful.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

Write it. Oh it's cringe? Who cares? Write it. Oh, it's a rare pair? Write it. You're worried people will hate it? Fuck the haters. Write it. Writing is about having fun. Writing is about pouring your soul onto the page. Writing is about getting those ideas out of your head so they don't drive you insane. It's about reaching that one person that finds your work and loves it. Even if no one reads it - you still accomplished something. You still wrote it. And no one can take that from you.

I have so many writers in my follow list. Uhh. I have no idea how many are still active, so I'm just going to tag who I know and hope for the best lol

@idyllicocean, @keeping-writing-frosty, @bloodtiesnovel, @asher-writes, @kitswrite, @theink-stainedfolk, @karkkidoeswriting, @lavender-gloom, @orphanheirs, @aquixoticwrites, @alinacapellabooks, @marlowethelibrarian, @flock-from-the-void, @dyrewrites, @storycraftcafe, @writer-imagination, @toragay-writing, @inseasofgreen, @stephtuckerauthor, @thatndginger, @finickyfelix, @eternalwritingstudent, @drchenquill, @paeliae-occasionally, @the-golden-comet, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @watermeezer, @goldfinchwrites, @winterandwords, @badscientist, @clairelsonao3, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @leahpardo-pa-potato, @mjparkerwriting, @rowanwriting, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @emelkae, @rita-rae-siller, @rebelxwriter, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @stesierra, @francineiswriting, @sunset-a-story, @chauceryfairytales, @hollyannewrites, @jaydenswaywrites, @captain-kraken, @violets-in-her-arms-writes, @romy-thewriter, @pure-solomon, @writingmaidenwarrior, @koiwrites

go, go follow them. they're all so good and make my timeline glow.

[hearts4werka]

TW for this whole post, there’s mentions of a lot of stuff so like be aware of what you’re getting into guys

Okay so I didn’t expect to be making this post but this is just completely disgusting and I cannot leave this just without adding a say into this, the whole situation happening rn and going around with @sturniololuv08 is just genuinely making me sick to my stomach, I met Bri when I was in the group chat on discord with her but previously we were following each other on here, she hasn’t private messaging me like it was with Kay and gray (check out their posts) but a lot of the times I would be on voice chat with bri in them and some of the stuff I would hear in them, there were other people but they would leave quickly cuz they said it made them uncomfortable, I didn’t wanna be rude so I was the one that stayed the longest in them and I heard almost everything the others said she was saying. The one thing that freaked me out when she said was about the poll for her next fic, the axe option that was winning currently she said that sadistic!matt would take the axe and cut off the girls toe and make him suck the blood out of it, the cnc fic was just sickening, personally I haven’t read it cuz it feels triggering for me, I’m so sorry for anyone who has read it and was either triggered or traumatized from some of the asks my friends have sent to the group chat of anons in their inbox talking about it, and I also want to talk about the relationship between bri and grace who is freshly 18, all of us are concerned for the most part for grace cuz having such a big age gap and being freshly over the age of 18 is also kind of weird to engage in it, I don’t know grace’s side of the story so I’m not going to assume anything but this relationship doesn’t seem like a good relationship at all, especially with a person like bri. The stuff she was saying in the chat as well as the voice chat were just very uncomfortable to everyone involved, including myself, every time she would write something or send anything about her fics she would constantly ping either me or everyone and was you could say pressuring us into reading it even though if someone wasn’t exactly comfortable with reading it, she would as well not add much tw with snippets she would send to the chat, gabby who is the owner of the group pointed that out multiple times and told her to put it as a spoiler or put it in tw - main but her excuse was just that everyone should know that her stuff is triggering content. The whole situation is very uncomfortable and overwhelming but I’m making this cuz bri hasn’t taken full accountability for her actions as well as she keeps making excuses for them, if you’re reading this then I advice stop texting minors to say the least and don’t do shit like this anymore nor write ‘different’ type of fics cuz we are perfectly fine with the ‘basic repeative fics’ on here, for your age i thought you would take a more mature approach to this and actually take accountability and properly apologize for this cuz talking to people way younger than you in this way is not okay, I fear you need mental help and a therapist first and foremost, maybe I’ll make another post about this maybe not but for now this is my response to this. Peace out.

Please block/report her accounts

@/letstrip1975 & @/sturniololuv08

— @mattslilies @m4ggvt @y3sterdaysproblem —

[tarraxahum]

This was gonna be a reply to a reply but I thought maybe I should just make my own post. Yes this is about Vi again.

It's no secret that "Vi should've fought for Zaun" and the expectation of her being Vander's prodigy and feeling like the plot dropped the ball on her in that regard and the betrayal at the fact that she's living comfortably in Piltover now are. Frequent sentiments in the fandom. Which I get, but also I feel that this line of expectations is. Diverging from who Vi actually is by the end and what she was realistically capable of.

Vi in season 2 is basically running on fumes and because she has no other options. It is a well known thing in irl activist spaces that to participate in any kind of fight for justice you need to take care of yourself, otherwise you won't have the energy to be any kind of useful to your community. Ekko also says this - "It's not enough to give people what they need to survive, you have to give them what they need to live". Vi has been surviving and not living in any shape or form for years, she's exhausted and broken in places. That's no mental state to fight for Zaun or make any kinda change. I think it's extremely realistic and human and hardly a flaw of writing or the character if by the end the only thing she was able to do was collapse into the safety and peace she was offered for the first time in forever (aka Caitlyn). It's clear that in her last scene she's still recovering mentally - Cait seems to be excited to have any sign of life (singing) from her at all, and the "Are you still in this fight?" question is very loaded. (But it's indicated that Vi is very much still in the fight, so? It's really anyone's guess what she'll do once she's healed and remembers how to live. And don't bring up LoL's Vi brutality thing, it's clear they're different characters).

I think in wanting to see Vi stand up for Zaun or be Vander's prodigy we often deny her the flaw of being a breakable human and forget just how much she's held together by duct tape. Just because she was full of this 'fuck Piltover' fire as a kid doesn't mean she is still capable of matching that energy. Sometimes after lots of trauma humans grow up into tired adults who just want to sit down and feel safe regardless of where it happens and how questionable it might look (re: living in Piltover). Not to mention, that even as a child Vi's main reason for fuming at the Topside was wanting safety for her family and herself. Well, now she's all out of family, she's estranged from the community of Zaun thanks to being in prison for 7 years and Silco changing the place so much, and the only person who's offering her safety and not more fighting (which she's exhausted and thoroughly burnt out from!) is Caitlyn, so. How is where she ended up any kind of surprising or a failure of her writing/character?

Yes, a lot of people wanted a revolutionary, no, Vi isn't one. Dare I say, never really was one. At her lowest, when she's got no one left to protect, she's not trying to fill in that void by taking on protecting Zaun and becoming a vigilante or something, no, she spirals. That is not something on her radar, that's not something she's visibly cut out to do, she cares so so much but on a smaller scale. Even the whole shimmer factory debacle was less about Zaun and more about her desire to hurt Silco personally for what he'd done to her family. If Jinx agreed to run away with her back at the tea party Vi would ditch the entirety of Zaun (potentially leaving it to Silco forever since he's still alive at that point) in a heartbeat to keep her sister and save Cait in one move. She puts on an enforcer uniform BECAUSE she cares for Jinx (through convincing herself that at the very least she should take her out of her misery herself rather than leaving it to people who don't care, yes) and Cait both.

Perhaps a hot take, but not becoming a leader despite being good at taking hits to the head and caring about people in general and being a daughter of one does not make Vi a badly written character or a bad person. It just makes her a person. And a character whose arc culminated in choosing herself. And choosing yourself sometimes means leaving the fight to others (perhaps temporarily, considering the final dialogue). And that's okay.

Arcane is tragedy about flawed people, not a feel-good story about a successful revolution and rich people paying for their crap, and it was never going to be. Ergo one of our main character isn't an upcoming hero in shining armor who was allegedly robbed of her potential. She's just a broken young woman who barely knows how to keep her own little life together and her biggest victory by the end is allowing herself to take a breath and live for once. Yes, while her home down there is still in shambles. Yes, that sounds selfish. For some people a bit of selfishness is the greatest thing they can ever learn for themselves.