#sorry im just really obsessed with this fic

[ihfmseatsoch]

ok ok ok so if i may be so bold as to request something, ive been enamored wiht the idea of an older, controlling, borderline abuse boyfriend jimmy, like he and reader live together on earth, and reader goes to college, while jimmy works physical jobs trying to support them both. he's a SHITTY person though, so hes jealous of any man the reader talks to, reads through their phone, makes sinde comments about their weight and appearance, and (im totally not projecting here) eventually pressures them into dropping out, for like his perfect little live in partner/gf fantasy sjdhasd feel free to do whatever with this, but this specific scenario has not left my head for days

WHEEE this was fun to write ^w^ i rushed this a bit but i just didnt want you to have to wait any longer... :p

—

Jimmy Zare x fem!reader

reader uses fem terms (girl, girlfriend)

genre: how do i categorize this.... fic that makes you feel bad or horny depending on how you handle verbal abuse lol

word count: 1.8k

warnings/content: age gap, domestic abuse, manipulation, arguing, fat shaming, several references to the readers body/appearance, jimmy being the biggest asshole oh my god i hate him (i want him so bad it makes me look stupid)

(is it bad that writing about jimmy yelling at me turns me on... WOAHHH who said that .....😰 also dont kill me for the weight shaming part IM A FAT GIRL !!!!!! i like when evil men are mean to me !!!!!! RAAAH)

—

"He's a good guy, he can actually be really sweet!"

That's a sentence you find yourself saying out of complete muscle memory at this point whenever someone questions why your boyfriend–... well, they question an awful lot about your boyfriend.

For example, why he's over twenty years your senior whilst you're still going to class on the weekdays. Why he doesn't allow you to see your friends, wear certain clothes, leave your apartment without him, and why he takes up so much space in your brain, completely distracting you from your own life and goals.

You've missed at least four assignments this semester alone. It's stupid, really. You thought you'd be done with obsessing and crying over boys after you graduated highschool. It's completely immature for a so-called adult like yourself, but then again, you're hardly into adulthood at all.

Jimmy, on the other hand, has a lot more life experience, many of those experiences negative. That might be why you've taken some form of pity on him, going so far as to move into his apartment so you can take care of him when you're not busy. He needs someone to make sure he doesn't fall off the deep end.

The thing is, it's become hard to fit him in your schedule, but whenever you're unable to make time for him after he comes home from work, that familiar scowl on his face indicating it was another shitty day, he throws a fit.

He'll accuse you of everything under the sun; Infidelity being the primary thing.

"You don't love me. There's someone else, isn't there? It's that one kid that asked you to help him 'study' last week, isn't it? No? Give me your fucking phone, then."

This is what you come home to everyday, so it's nothing new. In fact, you're pretty used to it by now. Though today, Jimmy seems particularly pissed.

"Where have you been?" He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, eyeing you up and down like he always does when he's about to grill you on something.

"Sorry..." You mutter, way too tired to deal with one of his moods again. "Traffic." You answer simply, not having enough energy to overexplain yourself like you normally do.

"Uh huh. Traffic." He mimics you in a way that already tells you he's not buying it. Great.

"...It's the truth." You shrink into yourself at the way he's looking at you. Contemptuous as always. You're in for another argument, it seems. A million, desperate pleas run through your mind;

'Please don't give me another lecture about how you're my only financial support, and how grateful I should be. Please don't ask to see my phone. Please don't tell me to drop out.'

But, of course, you can't actually change the outcome of this. You're gonna get yelled at. Belittled. Degraded.

"You're two hours late, and you're gonna tell me you were just stuck in traffic?" He pushes himself off the wall and walks towards you.

"You're never home when you're supposed to be, and when you are home, you're all tired and upset.” He pokes a finger into your shoulder, hard. "What do you think that looks like from my point of view?"

"I'm sorry." You rub your face, exasperated. God, you wish he would shut up sometimes. Sure, he can be amicable, but lately... he's been a raging dick. Yet, you can't help but cling to the memory of his good moments. "I'll try to make it back on time tomorrow."

"Yeah? And how many times have I heard that before?" He sneers, "You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"

The way he accuses you so confidently, so sure of himself... it's insulting. Does he really think that little of you? "College has been kicking my ass, Jim. You know that. I'm not hiding anything from you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, college this, college that. Always complaining about fuckin' college," He scoffs, his eyes stay narrowed, still glaring. "How about what I'm going through? You think I'm having a great time every day at work, hm?"

"No, I–" You stammer, hating the way he's turning this around to make himself the victim. Oh, woe is him, having to provide for himself and his girlfriend. How tortured he is. "I know, alright? I'm sorry. I just– what else do you expect me to do?"

"Be here. Like you're supposed to be. And I expect you to stop acting like I'm the bad guy for asking you to be a decent girlfriend."

Jimmy's voice raises slightly as he takes a step closer, towering over your sheepish figure. He nudges your shoulder again, even rougher this time.

"I'm busting my ass every day to put food on the table, and you can't even have the decency to show up on time, let alone look happy to see me?"

"I– I am happy to see you! I am, I'm just– you don't get it. I want to be here, but... I'm not even halfway through this semester, and–" You stumble over your words as you attempt, in vain, to defend yourself. It's not like he'll ever feel sympathy for you. It's always about what he wants. What makes him happy.

Jimmy rolls his eyes at your attempt to reason with him. It's as if he doesn't even register a word you say. "But what? What's more important to you, huh? Some stupid classes, or the guy who keeps a fuckin' roof over your head and feeds you? Be grateful, goddamn it." He snaps, grabbing your arms and giving them a forceful shake.

You flinch from being handled like you're not even a human being, much less one with feelings. "Stop, please, I'm– I am grateful, I really am..." You're not lying, either. To be honest, his guilt tripping works wonders on you. Are you really acting unappreciative? He wouldn't be this upset if you were in the right...

He seems unfazed by your frightened demeanor and continues to hold a firm grip on your arms. He looks you up and down, not even having to say anything for you to know he's judging you, as a girlfriend and person in general.

"Oh, you're grateful? Then maybe you should act like it for once." Jimmy gives your arms another firm shake, a harsh reminder of who's in charge here.

"I'm not asking much of you. I just want you to be here, and you can't even do that. Do you think I'm just gonna sit back and accept that bullshit?"

"No..." You shake your head, looking down at the ground in shame. Were you really that awful? You didn't want to be a bad partner, it's the last thing you ever wanted. If you could make eye contact without feeling guilty, you'd see Jimmy's face light up with satisfaction as he finally notices you're not even bothering to put up a fight anymore.

There's a condescending lilt to his tone as he speaks, "No one will ever love you like I do. You know that?"

You nod, knowing there has to be some truth to his claim. He takes care of you, doesn't he? He keeps a roof over your head, gives you money for groceries, and he's not always that unpleasant to be around...

He's a good boyfriend. You're the problem. You always are.

"Exactly."

The grip on your arms eases, moving them to place a hand on each of your shoulders, contrastingly gentle compared to his behavior only moments ago.

"You oughta thank your lucky stars you have a man like me who puts up with all your bullshit. You get that, right? How lucky you are to be with me?"

You know he's right. You were blessed with someone who still loves you, despite your many shortcomings. You're too fat, the acne on your face and body is repulsive, the way you do your makeup is weird... all of this being things Jimmy has told you directly. At least you have an honest boyfriend, isn't that what every girl wants?

He gives your shoulder a pat, like he's treating you like a small, petulant child. "You realize I could have literally any girl I want, right? Pretty, skinny, smart ones, even. But I chose you. Because I care about you."

He pauses, letting that sink in.

"But it would help if you'd actually put the effort in to look decent." He adds as an afterthought.

You've internalized every single snide remark he's thrown your way, reminded of them every single time you look in the mirror. Yet he still loves someone like you. Someone so difficult and embarrassing to be with.

"Jim, I don't... I don't know how I'm even gonna be able to free my schedule at all with school and stuff..." You mumble guiltily. You know he wants you to drop out, he's suggested it more times than you can count.

"That right there, that's why I'm frustrated, goddamn it," He says with an exacerbated sigh. He moves one hand from your shoulder to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Why don't you get it? Dropping out isn't the end of the world. Just quit and stay home. Done. Easy."

"It's not that easy... I want to get a good job and help out too, you know..."

It's true that you want to pull your weight around your shared home. With your combined income, it'd make everything easier. But... with how shitty college makes you feel, leaving you beaten down and tired by the end of the day...

You find yourself listening to Jimmy on this for once.

He can tell you're seriously contemplating it this time, which makes him feel... more in control. He's got you thinking and believing exactly what he wants you to. Soon, he'll be able to get you to obey him without another word from you.

The thought of having you as his subservient, stay at home girlfriend is more than appealing. It's his goal to mold you into what he wants you to be.

"Yeah, yeah, I get that, I know. But you're stressing yourself half to death, and for what? Some stupid degree? Listen to me, I'm not gonna ask you again. You're just creating problems that don't need to exist. Just quit. You'll have plenty of free time that you can spend with me."

You can't deny how tempting the idea is. Hesitantly, after several moments of pondering the hypotheticals and what-ifs, you speak up,

"...I guess... dropping out wouldn't hurt too much."

He perks up at that, barely being able to contain a delighted grin. You're actually putting him and his wants first, and acknowledging that he's right. You're doing as he says, without any of the usual arguing or excuses. He'll finally have his dream complaisant, docile girlfriend to come home to every night.

It only took a month or two to finally get you to cave. You'll be easier to control from now on. Hell, maybe you'll lose some weight with some free time on your hands, stop wearing that shitty makeup...

"Good girl," He says in a patronizing tone, like he's addressing a child, "That's what wanna hear."

God, you really hope this isn't a bad idea. Jimmy looks pleased for once, so...

This decision can't possibly ruin your future too badly, right?

—

[dragonsbone]

just wanna ramble a little bit.

the themes and parallels in my fic, a dance of lions, has me in absolute shambles. i keep expanding on my ideas ( with the amazing help from my friends ), and it keeps making this story better and better. honestly, i feel like this is some of my best work in regards to plotting and connecting details to make everything seem cohesive. but what i really love about this story is how many different characters foil each other. how they follow similar yet wildly different paths, yet end up with a satisfying outcome that makes the most sense to each character and their individual storyline. because even though this story is surrounded by the constant theme of betrayal, it is also heavily intertwined with revenge, justice, and love. and that’s what a lot of these characters deserve. 

i really hope to write this story one day so i could share all my ideas and spoilers with all of you !!  

[fallenseaofstars]

Argenti headcanons

🌹 Tags: Afab g/n reader, Smut/Fluff, established relationship, obsessive Argenti once again 😍, size difference kink, belly bulge, creampie, idk what else to tag 💔

🌹 A/N: sorry I tried making him as accurate to canon but he's a bit of a freak in my eyes (not in the kinky way but in the questionable way)

Argenti is a gentleman, he loves to be sensual and treat you like royalty, so naturally the aftercare is top notch! No matter how tired he is (unlikely that he's tired to begin with) he'll always make sure to clean you well, get the bed ready and pepper you with many many kisses <3 He will never leave until you're fully taken care of

Raging size difference kink. He can't quite pinpoint why exactly he's so into it but all he knows is that he can't help himself when he sees just how much smaller you are to him- believe me he has had to learn a new level of self control around you...

He's really big and absolutely loves seeing you take all him, has accidentally overstimulated you before but can you blame him? The way your pussy takes all of his cock and how his cum drips down you ... one round is not enough to please him.

Belly bulge is almost a guarantee everytime he fucks you and yes, it makes him very hard seeing how deep he fucks you

Pleasure dom but can also be sub. He absolutely loves spoiling you no matter how greedy you get, but he also enjoys being spoiled! He won't outwardly admit this however so make sure every once in a while you take good care of him, he deserves it~ ❤️

Worships you like a god(dess) regardless if he's top or bottom, it's almost embarrassing hearing his over the top compliments but he means every word! He loves spending a while just kissing your entire body, his kisses are so soft and full of love, and they linger in the areas that you're most self conscious about! To him, everything about you is beautiful, no matter what you think of yourself!

Loves it when you take the lead, he'll do whatever you ask of him like an obedient little puppy~ just kiss him a few more times and he's already head over heels for you! (Not that he already isn't though) When you ride him and threat him like a whore he cums even faster than usual. He can't decide if he prefers when you're gentle and loving or when you're mean and harsh.

Big praise kink, even when you're mean to him you should still praise him~

Into bondage as well, loves it no matter who's the one tied up! When you're the one tied up he loves to blindfold you as well and whisper to you everything that he will/is doing to you. He's very comforting when you're blindfolded but you can feel his voice go deeper than usual which makes you all the more hot for him

Now when you tie him up...he becomes a complete mess. He whines and moans, his body shaking so much that you almost feel bad for not letting him touch you, but that's just part of the fun, no? Again, cums a lot faster in this state

He cums a lot- and quickly too. You're lucky he has so much stamina since he cums way before you even come close. After you're both done the bed/wherever you fucked is very very messy- makes him a bit embarrassed but also loves seeing it as a way of claiming you as his own~

Also has a breeding kink, even if you can't have kids hes simply just obsessed with the idea of filling you up and having so many kids with you~

CW: Dub-con and cnc (roleplay kidnapping)

Overall he's very loving, no matter how you want him to fuck you he'll do it and praise you so much while doing so! You're his beloved little rose and he absolutely loves everything about you! ❤️

Although you're his priority and he wants to make sure you enjoy every second of it, he's still quite...obsessive over you- which can lead to him forgetting that this is reality and will fuck the living light out of you to the point that it's just painful- at some point he'll make sure you're okay but he's quick to go back and fucking you dumb

He's a bit addicted to roleplaying as if he kidnapped you, tying you to his bed and just fucking your pretty face drives him insane <3 You spend a lot of time before hand making clear each other's boundaries, and even while roleplaying he can't help but ask if your ok and compliments you so much

[sidneycarter]

love the idea that post The Situation thomas is just increasingly obtuse when it comes to jimmy's feelings.

so when one day mrs hughes mentions in passing at how much easier it is to handle james now he's settled down, thomas is incredibly confused. and a little bit heartbroken too of course.

it gets even stranger when on valentine's day alfred sulkily asks jimmy how many cards he's sent that year and jimmy merely shrugs and smirks. mrs patmore chastises them for gossiping and announces that surely, jimmy's only got one to be sending.

then one night, most of the staff are enjoying a rare night off in the pub. as usual, a host of pretty girls surround jimmy, and one particularly brave one asks jimmy if he's got any plans on one of his half days. jimmy throws her a cheeky wink and says "sorry, darling, but i'm spoken for."

thomas starts feeling really rather hurt. he's known all along that this would happen eventually - that jimmy would eventually move on and find a nice village lass, but it still stings to hear it. somehow, it hurts even more knowing that clearly jimmy has fallen for someone but he hasn't even told thomas.

thomas puts on a brave face and elbows daisy in the side. "d'ya hear that? jimmy's kept that quiet 'asn't he?"

daisy looks at him with a frown and cocks her head to the side. "well, not really--" but before she can say anything else she's swept up into the rowdy conversation of the table.

a few weeks later, thomas and jimmy are alone in the servants hall, with thomas reading the paper in his rocking chair and jimmy tapping out melodies on the piano. the tune he's playing is sweet and gentle, and thomas finds himself swaying his head along. as the song draws to a close, a gentle round of applause sounds from the doorway.

baxter stands smiling. "let me call you sweetheart is one of my favourites. it was beautiful, jimmy."

jimmy blushes prettily and stands, closing the piano lid. "thank you, mrs baxter. good night."

after he's gone from the room, baxter enters to fill herself a glass of water. she smiles fondly at thomas. "he's so smitten you know. head over heels." she rolls her eyes affectionately.

it takes months until thomas finally figures out the truth of what's going on. well, to say he figures it out is somewhat generous.

he's in the servants hall again, this time feeling a little despondent with a cup of tea. jimmy had gone to the pictures with alfred of all people, their friendship seemingly improved since jimmy's given up on chasing ivy's skirt. thomas is resolutely not waiting up to make sure jimmy gets home safe. anna is the only other person still up, and she sits opposite thomas stitching one of lady mary's hemlines in companionable silence.

thomas dwells on his own thoughts for a while, until anna rests her sewing on the table and fixes him with a worried look. "are you quite alright, mr barrow?"

"hm? oh, yes anna, i'm very well thank you." he takes a sip of his tea to hide his moue.

anna looks unconvinced. "thomas," she says seriously, "is it-- have you and jimmy had a falling out?"

that genuinely surprises thomas. for all his worry and sadness over jimmy's as yet unknown love interest, they'd never fallen out. "no, no, of course not. he's just busy, that's all, which is to be expected now he's, you know," thomas waves his cup vaguely in the air, "courting the mystery lady."

anna chokes on a laugh. "the mystery lady?"

"yes. he's-- he's courting someone, isn't he? everyone keeps saying that he's... or suggesting that he's taken with someone." Thomas adds somewhat bitterly, "seems quite serious if you ask me. not that he's told me anything about it of course."

anna stops giggling and looks at him oddly. "thomas you-- you can't mean--"

"-- do you know who she is, anna?" thomas interrupts a little desperately. he's becoming tired of it all and he just wants to know-- how bad it is, for how long he's going to have to tend to his broken heart.

"thomas. thomas, jimmy's sweetheart is-- well, it's you."

"me?" thomas has a brief, sickening memory of his feelings before, and how miss o'brien toyed with them so badly. but he knows in his gut, that anna would never, and could never do that. he knows she's being honest, as confusing and terrifying as the statement may be.

"yes." anna smiles. "he's like a little puppy when he's with you. surely you've noticed? he gazes at you with stars in his eyes. he wants to do everything you do, and it seems like every other conversation is all about what you've been telling him this week. he only ever plays love songs on the piano when you're in the room. he laughs at all your jokes and he's not even glanced in the direction of a girl since last year." anna shakes her head. "i thought you knew and were just letting him get used to it."

"no i didn't -- i didn't know, i thought," thomas can feel himself blushing, "i don't know what i thought."

anna stands with a stifled yawn. "you make each other very happy. if you really didn't know, i think you ought to talk to him. good night, mr barrow."

"good night anna. and thank you."

thomas is left in the still and quiet of the room, watching the steam spiral up from his cup. a private and hopeful smile spreads across his face. yes, he thinks, nodding his head, perhaps we should talk.

[mistresscitrusslice]

A few months ago when I was into BG3, I couldn’t stop thinking about God Gale/Ascended Astarion and Dark Consort Gale/Ascended Astarion.

…and then I realized I had just circled back to what was essentially reskinned Divorce Era Jayvik and Augmented Jayce/Machine Herald. 😐

My brain only has one setting.

[skrunksthatwunk]

idk if i've discussed it before (i have certainly THOUGHT about it) but someone on my kuwa suffering ep 89 comp mentioned it and i just had to go off about it like. ok. sensui tells yusuke something along the lines of "you heard itsuki" when itsuki's inside the uraotoko, implying that not only can sensui hear those inside the uraotoko, but that he expects yusuke to be able to as well. which means that yusuke Almost Certainly Heard And Kind Of Ignored kuwabara's prolonged mental breakdown and wailing about how much he needs yusuke to live etc. which. guHHH i hate him yusuke you ass but also listen.

the only acknowledgement yusuke gives to this (if any) is when he says something like "sensui you're sooo fucking cooked this plan's going perfectly (my friends are going to get strong and kill you when i die)." he's trash talking to sensui, ignoring the others because, i think, he doesn't want to acknowledge what he's doing to them.

yusuke is explicitly recreating the experience he had with kuwabara's "death" at the hands of toguro, complete with the announcement of intent (and power) to kill, the inability to impede the threat in any way (barring a power-breakthrough), and the target in some way racing towards/volunteering for their death. yusuke learns through doing, and through tough love-style approaches. it's only effective if it hurts. watching kuwabara die like that was devastating to yusuke, but it sure as hell fucking worked. he beat toguro because of that maneuver. so even if he has to (re-)traumatize his friends in the process, this method will make his friends stronger, and he feels confident in that. but he never had to live with the consequences of kuwabara's death, not really. that's something hiei makes clear before they enter the cave as well, that there are no fake-outs ready to make him or anyone else stronger. the only deaths here will be real. the only power gained will come at a high, permanent cost. hiei's warning is an attempt to keep everyone alive, to keep yusuke from being stupid. and then yusuke decides to take that fatality into his own hands, but it's kind of his friends who would pay the price. he's going to make them live through the days, months, years without him, the actual permanency of loss (assuming they survive for that long), something he never experienced with kuwabara (a new facet of that traumatic scenario), AND he's escaping the emotional fallout of this choice through death. he doesn't have to see them mourn, won't get yelled at, won't watch them fail to move on. he's tapping out and choosing to believe they'll be fine.

but i think he feels guilty. just a little. i mean, yusuke couldn't even believe that people cared about him enough to want him alive in episode one. he's staked everything on his friends, which means he still kind of... doesn't value his own life, at least not compared to theirs. but he believes his friends love him and want him around, and we know that because he has to, or else he wouldn't make a plan that depends entirely on that love. he is actively leveraging the care he doesn't think he deserves, trying to hurt them in a way he is intimately familiar with (only worse), for.... what, exactly?

this is kind of my sticking point tbh. i don't think the answer is... super clear, but let's start with what it's not.

yusuke is not doing this because it is the most practical way to save all of humanity; that would be the mafukan, which he stopped. it could be a gamble to save all of his friends? the mafukan strategy would guarantee koenma's death/eternal imprisonment, whereas this strategy gambles all of humanity on the chance that his friends come out of the Easy Break Oven strong enough to avert the end of the world. if the sacrifice of even one friend is completely intolerable, perhaps he'd accept those slim odds and their steep consequences. yusuke tends to take risks like that, especially when he's got fight-induced tunnel vision. he doesn't think things through too much; his schemes are usually dependent on surprising his enemy enough to oneshot them. truthfully, i think this is the closest we'll get to an answer, and it's a more conventional one for this kind of story. but there is another layer i haven't been able to get from my mind.

i think yusuke is gifting each of his friends an honorable warrior's death.

so, in case it needs saying, yusuke, kuwabara, kurama, and hiei all (at least once, if not several times) exhibit a desire to die in combat in a way they deem noble to give their lives purpose (usually by self-sacrifice, but sometimes by another metric of honor, like hiei's duel with shigure and his desire to die in mutual defeat against an evenly matched opponent; or even kurama's decision to fight shigure in his human form, displaying a sort of passive suicidality via placing being true to himself in this (somewhat symbolic/inconsequential) way over survival). they need to make their lives count for something, because they feel guilty for being alive (kurama and hiei feel guilty for their past actions (hiei's is most evident in his distance from yukina, though that's not its primary reason), hiei, kuwabara, and yusuke have all been ostracized and made to feel like burdens on/unwanted by their caregivers and general society; all four of them have felt profound isolation even from their loved ones (yusuke and hiei are rather obvious; kurama can never tell his mother about the majority of his life nor what she truly means to him in the context of it; and kuwabara is separated from his peers for his spiritual awareness and his "stupidity" (plus his parents aren't around? and he is Desperate to define manhood/manliness through a broader pop cultural one which includes the warrior sacrifice thing bc he has no male role models BUT that's for another post) (i will admit kuwa's the most tenuous one here irt isolation)). they want to die for a cause so badly it's actually physically painful to me. it is passive suicidality, and they define their lives and identities by their relation to, engagement with, and skill at doing violence, etc. they live to die by the sword. anyway. nobody talks about it but i think it's very important to understanding what yusuke's doing here.

because i think he knows that about himself and his friends. they're kindred spirits. at the very least he knows this about kuwabara, who literally made a speech about this before diving into toguro's fingers In The Event That He Is Recreating Explicitly. he is dying nobly like they all want to on the chance that they'll get to break out and fight sensui rather than dying without even getting to take a swing. it's about his pride and theirs. but i don't think yusuke necessarily believes they'll win. he knows better than anyone how strong sensui is, and how wide the gap is between sensui and team urameshi. his stated position that humanity is doomed and that he doesn't care about its fate is, i think, not completely genuine, but if we take it at face value, he's not killing himself so that his friends can survive the end of the world. something's going to come around and kill them eventually. he's doing it so they can survive long enough to fight sensui. he needs them (specifically kuwabara) to be strong enough to free themselves to begin round two. but he's given up on their side winning, on humanity surviving, on his own victory---why should he think his friends are capable of winning? this could be another case of yusuke's fight-blinders. it could be another gamble, more blind faith put in his friends. but honestly it reads more to me that yusuke's giving them a chance to die together on the battlefield. them winning would be great, but it's not his goal. it's a pipe dream.

he knows he's going to be killed. they're probably going to be killed, too. but to make it so they last a little longer against sensui, to make the odds a little more even, so they are killed not like livestock, but like worthy fighters, he'd die a little faster. it's the best kind of death someone like them can have; and he'll deprive himself of it just to make their ends a little sweeter. even if the road to that is far more bitter.

but it's not like yusuke's friends know what he's thinking or agree to it, and he can't exactly make his case for it in the moment. he's making that choice for them. whatever his intentions, whatever odds he thinks they have of beating sensui, he's kind of sealing all of their fates. so how the hell is he supposed to acknowledge kuwabara screaming at him not to die, trying desperately to express what yusuke means to him in what could be their final moments together? this plan is going to hurt his friends terribly. it is already doing so, and he can hear it. his choices to stop koenma from using the mafukan and to die for his friends' strength are both selfish in some way, no matter how you read the scene. if yusuke comforts kuwabara, he might not get strong enough. if he twists the knife, well... how could he forgive himself? and either way by responding he would have to face them all and say yes, i'm doing this regardless of your feelings (with the intention of hurting you). so i think he does what he often does. he avoids it. he lets that emotion glance off him and his bravado and his one-liners so he doesn't have to deal with the fact that he's hurting people, that he's scared and guilty and unsure of himself. that he's about to die again, about to put kuwabara through the grief he saw at his wake again, only worse; about to put his quieter friends through something similar.

yusuke is confronted with the responsibility one has to the people who care for them, and he runs from it in an attempt to give them some small peace. just like when he died before and thought hey, at least my mom and keiko won't be burdened by me anymore. because the only thing he can really do for them is die.

[dykedvonte]

no I understand, tbh I kinda wish that’s how my special interests work but no they just are Always There even if there’s no active content,,, and I appreciate you saying you won’t abandon it, it’s genuinely kinda upsetting whenever authors do just quit a story without finishing it or at least explaining where they wanted it to go (like don’t get me wrong I understand losing interest but imo if you’ve gotten people invested u kinda owe it to em to give closure)

You had me till the end where I need to remind you I don’t owe anyone anything??? No matter how invested you get I don’t charge for any thing I put on the internet cause I write mostly gay fanfiction for copyrighted properties and do this because it’s fun and I want to share. CDAP if far from my first fic or au to get attention and I am aware of the people who want it to continue. I’ve been in and likely will be in the same boat again but never have I ever had the audacity to think the author or artist owes me more of their work just because I was invested.

I have and will delete fics I’ve written at a moments notice for reason more petty than i just felt like it. I make the habit of keeping up or reposting old work just to track my growth, fandom trends and as a curtesy to those who may want to go back and read it. I have literally thought of deleting it for asks just like this because it’s extremely upsetting to me to have people try to compliment sandwich me with “I love your fic and understand the burnout/lack of interest… but I want to read more so like get over it it’s not fair :/“ CONSTANTLY. Like I don’t clearly have other interests I mention or post about and maybe trying to hound me into focusing on only one may actually make me stray farther from it? If I don’t share anything about it ever again that’s my choice. I don’t need to give an outline for anyone to visualize or the ending.

Never ever try to tell anyone that shares their craft in a fandom that they owe anyone anything not paid for. Like I get the frustration, I really do but this is not the way to go about it. I continuously said on this newer blog and my old one that I would continue the fic when my interest in UTDR came back and gave the vague estimate that would be whenever new official stuff came out for it. It’s not concrete but that was my answer and it’s only changed because you’ve made me certain that I won’t be working on it in the foreseeable future, thank you for the help with the realization 🤟🏾

[turtlespancake]

me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU

[noecoded]

If you could have any Asmo/reader fic what would be the things you would want from it? like an ideal fic would contain what tropes or AUS or situations or whatever

uhmm anything wellwritten that characterizes asmo similar to the way i do ! i rlly like character exploration , both more serious stuff & just sillycute...anything where asmo is a little cunning and toxic and also gets railed into oblivion.anything where hes a vampire. ill write a tag essay about the specifics

[todayisafridaynight]

I’m fairly new to the fandom, but I do have a question if you can answer it! Why do people ship Daigo with Aoki / Masato? I tried looking to see if they’ve interacted before, but couldn’t find anything! Sorry for asking I’m just </3 dumb AND I LOVE YOUR ART OF THEM!!! Nerd looking ahhhhhh

hi ! welcome to the community i hope you're having a lovely time so far and ty for enjoyin my stuff :) no need for apologies it's a very fair question to have :]

i cant speak for everyone (all. ten people into masadai anyway) but Personally To Me i just think the idea of them together is very funny. thats quite literally it im afraid..

[allylikethecat]

In addition to being on ALL THE ANGST from listening to Noah Kahan, I've been rewatching Madame Secretary and can't get the idea of Secretary of State Jake and trophy husband / professor / CIA asset Bradley out of my mind. BUT I told myself no more multi chapter WIPS until I finish at least ONE of the many I am working on.

[saturn7162]

IF I DON'T FIND THIS FUCKING FANFICTION I'M GONNA LOSE MY MIND

[bitchfitch]

anon mohgwyn here! just read your mohg x miquella love in abundance series and hoo boy.

it's fucking fantastic. the way you write mohg as this devoted, almost zealous fanatic of miquella's amorphous form, how he is love and truth embodied. how miquella is characterised: he is the most fierce empyrean, and likely would not have let mohg take him if it did not play into his plans: he promised malenia he would return, after all. and yet miquella cannot help but control, in that bewitching nature of his, ironically the very thing he wishes to eliminate from the ring and order.

fhfhhfhfhrhhfhdhdhdhhdhdhdhdhdhdh I'm Soooo glad you're groking what im trying to do with them. Like, I know as soon SotE comes out literally every part of Miquella's characterization in that fic will be made ooc, bc let's be real, it's A Stretch with what's in the game as is (and Mohg is just an oc at this point). but For now he is a glorious manipulative selfish godling who represents half of the change from the stagnation that came before him while still carrying everything that caused that stagnation in the first place within himself.

Like, people more versed in the lore and development have said it better but there's So much that feels flubbed with Miquella's side of the story. And hindsight, it's probably because a chunk of it was cut out late in development to be used in SotE and so much of Mohg's everything was obviously scrapped at some point, But By God if fromsoft doesn't let him be more than a damsel in distress i will riot. Malenia the coolest hardest boss says Miquella was above even her, and in the game he got kidnapped by a shitty sewer cultist who lives in a gross swamp with his little chortling henchmen... without Malenia noticing or Miquella doing jack shit about it. It Doesn't line up.

Sorry i have So many thoughts about them in my skull at all times and they're all tripping over eachother rn bc I'm Excited about it. There's something There. If you squint. they're the exact type of fucked up that appeals to me specifically and I love them in a "by god what is Wrong with you?" way. They're the fuhken, reason i bought the game because i saw the bullshit going down with them in a let's play and just needed to get a closer look.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

the motherland don't love you, the fatherland don't love you, so why love anything?

prompt: drowning their sorrows

whumpee: kind of all 3 of napoleon solo, illya kuryakin, gaby teller

fandom: the man from uncle

hey!! this fic is a bit different from my usual stuff, it's much more about the angst and kind of the character study type aspect, so it's not whump in a traditional sense. nonetheless i really enjoyed writing it and i hope you like reading it!! (title from ya hey by vampire weekend)

“Listen,” Napoleon says, after his sixth or seventh glass of Scotch. “Fuck the Central Intelligence Agency.”

Gaby raises an eyebrow at him, takes a sip from her glass, and waits for him to say something else. 

Napoleon, however, seems to have lost his train of thought. “Fuck the CIA,” he repeats. “Nothing but a bunch of extortionists.”

“Yeah,” Gaby agrees, with the tone of one who doesn’t know exactly what it is they’re agreeing with but who is staunchly in support of it nonetheless. “Fuck the CIA,” she echoes, giggling at the English curse. 

Napoleon smiles, then grows serious, evidently having remembered his earlier thoughts. He sets his glass down with a thump. 

“No, really. I mean, God knows I’m no saint, but…look at us.” He gestures in a vague circle that encompasses himself, Gaby, and Illya, all painted with bruises and cuts of varying severity, marks of a severely botched mission and the reason for their present collective inebriation. 

Napoleon then gestures to himself, prods at his fresh black eye with a bit more force than is wise. “Ow.”

“We do not work for the CIA,” Illya points out, speaking slowly to avoid jumbling his words. “Only you.”

Napoleon scowls at him. “Not the point, Peril. My point is…my point is, how often have we looked like this because of an UNCLE mission?”

Illya shrugs, scrunching up his face like he’s actually trying to count. 

Gaby answers for him. “Not very often. Not this bad.”

Napoleon points at her. “Exactly. UNCLE has better intel - well, maybe not this time, but you know - and they actually sort of care about us. Like, Waverly probably wouldn’t threaten me with prison if I was a little cheeky with him. Probably.”

Gaby and Illya both nod. 

“And,” Napoleon starts, more to indicate that he wants to keep talking and less to introduce a well thought-out sentence, “and. Okay. I mean, I’ve never been in the KGB and I didn’t grow up in East Berlin, so I can’t really speak for you guys, but my boss here?” 

He stops, considers his use of prepositions, realizes they’re not actually in the States at the moment, and rephrases. “Back in the US, I mean. Sanders, my boss, terrible man, really, talking a big game about the country being on top of the world like he’s the one who put it there. Anyway. He threatens me with prison pretty much weekly.”

Gaby looks at him intently. “Can he actually send you to prison?”

Napoleon shrugs, does his best to be nonchalant. “Probably. It wouldn’t be too hard to convince whoever it is that needs convincing. I mean, sure, I’m useful as an agent, but at the end of the day I’m nothing but a dirty thief who should worship the ground the CIA…well, I guess the CIA as like, a thing, can’t walk, but you know…I should worship the ground the CIA walks on because they kept me out of prison. Not that working for them is anything like freedom.”

“I understand,” Gaby says, leaning slightly against Napoleon’s shoulder, partly as a gesture of comfort and solidarity and partly because everything has gone a little spinny. She waits until the feeling subsides, then speaks up again. 

“In Berlin, they trap us. East Germany is supposed to be a good place, that’s what they tell you, but then they build this wall through the city. And what are we supposed to do? We can’t go over it, they will kill us. It’s like they don’t understand that it’s the same city on both sides. There’s no freedom like that. I don’t even miss it.”

She falls silent, finishes her drink, pours another, contemplates it for a moment. 

“I do miss it, I guess. Is it possible to not miss your home?”

Her eyes have gone a bit glassy. Unconsciously, she rubs at the fresh red scratch on her cheek. 

“It isn’t like East Germany ever cared about me. Or anyone, really. Do you know how many people they arrest every day? For nothing. They questioned me about my birth father once. Two years ago they arrested my neighbor for…how is it in English? Sed… something. They said he was against the state. He was only a painter.”

“Sedition,” Napoleon chimes in, shaking his head. 

Gaby nods. “That’s it. Sedition.” She pronounces the word carefully, committing it to memory. “And even then I - I do miss it. Even after everything. There is nothing left for me there, no one. Still, sometimes I think about how I can never go back, and I think it should feel like…like freedom, but it doesn’t.”

She leans more heavily into Napoleon and shuts her eyes. She will not cry over this. Over a place that does not care for her in the slightest. Over a place that she is indifferent to and misses in the same breath. 

A soft silence. Gaby scrubs at her eyes. Illya shifts slightly in his chair, keenly aware of the fact that it would seem to be his turn. 

He finishes the last of his drink - he doesn’t know what it is, something Napoleon made that had tasted good earlier but is now horribly bitter. He doesn’t know how many of these terrible drinks he’s had. He should have kept count. He shouldn’t be so drunk. But he is, and so his tongue is loosened. He takes a deep breath and tries not to wince when his bruised ribs protest. 

“My father was not a good man,” he says, and then stops. Napoleon and Gaby both look at him, attentive. He looks away, continues after a beat. 

“He was arrested. Sent to Gulag. He stole money from the Party. I thought, they will kill him. But he is still alive. No one can see him. They will maybe tell me when he dies, I don’t know.”

He pauses, considers, formulates the English words. “He is a criminal. Or else they would have freed him. He is in prison for almost twenty years. Oleg Grigorievich, he says to me sometimes… Solo,” he says suddenly, looking at his partner. 

Napoleon looks back at him with startling intensity. “Yeah?”

“You said that Sanders, he threatens you with prison, yes?” Illya asks, and then barrels on atop of Napoleon’s affirmative answer. 

“Oleg Grigorievich also does this. He tells me I will end up in Siberia like my father if I do not perform well. I love my country, I will die for my country, but…I do not love him.”

Gaby nods seriously. “Fuck Oleg Gri…gorievich,” she proclaims, pausing in the middle of the patronymic to hiccup. Napoleon snorts, and she elbows him. He winces. 

“Your elbows are sharp. And I already have a bruise,” he complains. 

“Sorry,” Gaby apologizes, mostly sincerely. 

Illya looks at them. He is beginning to think he should not have begun speaking, because now he is not sure that he can stop. 

“I am good at my work. KGB needs me. I am happy to work for my country. But…”

“Go on,” Napoleon encourages, leaning forward. 

“We won’t tell anyone,” Gaby adds. “Nobody tells anyone anything.”

“Except each other.”

“Obviously.”

“I was just making sure!”

“But,” Illya continues, and Napoleon and Gaby turn their attention back to him. “You are nice to me.”

He doesn’t say anything else. His face feels hot and his throat feels tight. For a very long moment all three of them just look at each other. 

And then, as if by design (though neither one of them had spoken to the other), both Gaby and Napoleon get up and grab hold of Illya’s hands. 

“What are you doing?” Illya asks, scarcely moving despite their straining. 

“Come sit with us,” Gaby says. 

“Please?” Napoleon adds. “So we can all be miserable together.”

“We are already together,” Illya points out. 

“Come on, please?” Gaby asks. 

Illya heaves another sigh that has him wincing. “Okay.”

He lets them pull him to his feet. For a second he gets horribly dizzy and he has to close his eyes. When he opens them again, he’s leaning against Napoleon and Gaby has her hands on his back. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “Just dizzy.”

“So’m I,” Gaby agrees. “Come on, let’s sit.”

The three of them stumble back to the couch and sink down onto it rather ungracefully. Napoleon ends up in the middle, with Illya curled into the corner beside him and Gaby lying her head on his leg. 

“I’m glad you ruined my car,” Gaby suddenly says, not moving her head from its pillow. 

“What?” Napoleon asks. “We destroyed it. Beautiful car, too.”

Gaby shrugs as best as she can given her current position. “If you didn’t ruin my car, we would not be here now.”

She does have a point, Napoleon figures. “I’m glad we’re here,” he adds. “Working for the CIA is mostly terrible. Working with you is fun. You’re…” He trails off, unsure of or unwilling to fully voice any further words. 

Illya shifts a little closer to them, carefully. “At home I am part of machine. I do not mind this, but with you I am something else. Not a machine.”

“Just a person,” Gaby says. “More free.”

It’s different for her, she knows. Her career as a spy has been with Waverly alone. The only person controlling her is someone she trusts and likes. 

And yet Napoleon agrees. “Yeah,” he says, slowly. “I mean, Sanders is still in charge of me, but so is Waverly, and with UNCLE I’m not a prisoner of the US government, or at least I don’t feel like one. Maybe one of these days I won’t be, I don’t know. I’d work for UNCLE, with you guys, even if it was my choice, is what I mean, I suppose.”

“I am maybe not so free at home,” Illya chimes in, leaning slightly onto Napoleon. “This is how it is, I don’t mind. It is important that there is an order, things like this. But we…we care about each other, yes?”

It takes Gaby and Napoleon a second to realize that they’re being asked a question here. 

“Of course,” says Napoleon. 

“Obviously,” Gaby agrees. 

“Okay. We care about each other. And maybe so does Waverly. This is different. I am…I have…I can be something else here. And that is good too.”

“Well put,” says Napoleon. “Now, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m feeling a little bit too drunk and a lot bit like I’d like to go to sleep.”

“Me too,” Gaby chimes in. 

“Yes,” agrees Illya. 

“And I’m not moving.”

“Me either.”

“I will stay.”

Napoleon nods slowly, closing his eyes when this makes him too dizzy. “Glad we’re agreed.”

They rearrange themselves as best as they can, which involves a lot of shuffling around, grabbing of arms for support, and general wincing. Eventually, they manage to configure themselves in a reasonably comfortable manner, all stacked and tangled together. 

“Goodnight,” Gaby mumbles, voice muffled by the fabric of Napoleon’s shirt. 

“Night,” Napoleon echoes, already half asleep with his face pressed into a cushion. 

“Goodnight,” Illya concludes, head propped up at a slightly uncomfortable angle against the armrest. 

In the morning, there will be pounding headaches, empty glasses and bottles to clean up, and various injuries to check in on. But for now, there is only silence and comfort. There is only them.

thanks for reading! this was a whole different kind of beast to write but i really loved getting to explore their characters like this, i have so many thoughts about them that don't often get to come through in my usual 'beat them up' fics. i hope you enjoyed this!!

[serenedash]

so I wasn't expecting my khux gameplay post to blow up this much because normally I just shout my khux thoughts into the void and that's that, but it's been really amazing and heartwarming seeing everyone's personal experiences with khux, like I can't say enough how much I LOVE looking at everyone's additions and tags :)

I had tried writing a long post about some khux feelings but it just wasn't coming out right. this post isn't about the game this is about me sorry tl;dr I'm a very anxious person and I love to see other people just as excited about khux as I am because I feel better about how much I like it. which is A Lot

[stellewriites]

i thiiiiink once i finish w this tabf sequel one shot im gonna start a cod/tf141 fic 🤭🤭🤭