#there is a very big difference between those two words and what they involve

[johnnycagesrightnut]

Mason James Walten spins a web and gets Miguel caught in it after he nearly KILLS MILES and Mason’s taken off his Spider-Man suit he’s not Spider-Man now he’s Mason James and it’s like that scene from that Batman video game and Miguel’s like ‘you ain’t gonna kill me, you ain’t gonna kill me!’ And Mason’s like ‘Do I look like Spider-Man to you?’ Because it’s established amongst his lore there’s a big difference between Spider-Man and Mason James Walten. Spider-Man isn’t a thief. Spider-Man isn’t technically a cannibal. Spider-Man is not a killer. Spider-Man is a hero, Mason James Walten is on the blurred line of hero and anti-hero.

[asxgard]

I wanted something where Abbott gets involved with a younger resident — maybe everyone in the ER knows about it, except the interns, since it’s their first day. Maybe the resident doesn’t like Trinity’s style, and Trinity goes to complain to Jack, but Jack defends his resident.

In Your Defense | one shot

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!resident!reader

Requested

Summary: After getting on your nerves all day, you and Santos finally go toe-to-toe over a patient. Jack comes to your defense.

[ My Masterlist ]

Note: I’ve been floating around ideas of my own of Jack with a resident👀so this was fun!

Sorry it took a bit! I got distracted with a few other things, and I wanted to make sure Companionship got out yesterday. Plus, this became a lot longer than I originally intended. I hope you like it @mayabbot !

Word Count: 2.7k

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content.

Warnings: age gap, semi-established relationship, foul language, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies, mild Santos hate due difference in style, Pittfest

not beta read

The thing about Dr. Jack Abbot was, you did not need a label to know what you meant to him. There was no officiality of a title, even though you were both serious about each other — but frankly, the title was just a word. You knew where you stood, spending nights in his apartment and cooking breakfast together. He never hesitated to remind you that you belonged to him. Not in the overly possessive way, but in the silent always there type of way.

Jack had a past, and while you never pushed, he opened slowly. He had held you out of reach for some time before you realized what was truly brewing between you, and after he began to share, you thought the slow, quiet way you existed around each other was enough. He had loved and lost, he had fought and sacrificed, so you always assured him there was no rush. Not with you. You supposed there would be something to be said when you finished your residency, since that was a big priority in your life, but that was still a year away.

Like most things, your relationship with Jack did not stay secret for long in the halls of the Pitt. You really should have known better — Princess and Perlah were bloodhounds when it came to sniffing out things like that, and the bet did little to keep it private. You were unsure who had started it, but you were surprised that it was Robby who had walked away with the money. It felt like cheating, since he had insider knowledge after catching the two of you at a bar, but you never said anything.

Waking up in his bed alone was not uncommon — since after your dayshifts you sometimes would just wander to his apartment as opposed to your own. You would curl into his sheets and his smell, even when he would not be home all night. He never minded, and frankly even encouraged it. Working opposite shifts than him cut back on time you had together, but you knew it was only a matter of time before you were back on nights due to your flip-flopping schedule.

He looked worn down when you arrived at the Pitt for your shift, bright-eyed from a full night's rest in his bed. He followed you into the staff lounge so you could put your lunch away and he poured a bit of coffee to top off your thermos.

“Is it a ‘good morning’ type of morning, or a quiet ‘let me contemplate’ type of morning?”

He pursed his lips, “Neither. I lost a vet last night, spent two hours coding him.”

You sucked in a breath, knowing it had been a rough one for him. Those nights were far and few between, but never handled them very well. He was getting better, but oftentimes, he found himself on the roof.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” You said, knowing there was not much to say that would actually make it feel any better. “I made dinner last night, I left some leftovers in your fridge.”

He nodded, “At least we’ll have tonight and tomorrow together.”

You smiled, “I’m looking forward to it. Meet at yours?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

You chuckled, “Go get some rest, old man.”

An eyebrow rose in a challenge, “You won’t be saying that later.”

You smirked, “Counting on it.”

He gave you a rushed kiss on the lips, ensuring it was quick and private, before he was out the door. You sipped on your coffee and let out a long sigh, moving towards the charge desk and greeting Dana with a grin.

You let out a low whistle when you looked up at the board, “Damn, they got hammered last night.”

Frank Langdon stepped beside you to lean against the desk, “Why do I have a feeling you’re going to say the Q word? Don’t you dare, or I swear to god.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “It was one time over a year ago. Who do I look like? Shen? I’m no longer an amatuer.”

“I’m so glad I don’t work with him much. He’s like a walking jinx at this point.”

“He’s not so bad.” You laughed, “I see we got some newbies.”

Langdon glanced over his shoulder, “Two med students, an intern and an R2.”

“Oh, fun.”

—

You learned all the new faces over the course of the next hour. You found you liked the med students well enough, and the R2, Melissa King, but the intern was beginning to rub you the wrong way. Calloused and indifferent did not mesh well in the chaos of the Pitt, or the team player attitude Robby always tried to instill in everyone.

Santos was the type of person you had vehemently disliked during your med student rotations, and after hearing a few cruel nicknames she had picked for Whitaker and Javadi, you brought it to Langdon’s attention. According to Jack, Langdon had walked into the Pitt with the same type of overconfident attitude, and Robby had taken him under his wing and straightened him out. Maybe you thought he would pass on the wisdom. Not to mention, it took the drama off your plate. You had enough worries keeping your relationship with Jack away from Gloria’s ears, and the last thing you wanted to do was get in the middle of something.

“Trust me, I hear you. She already ordered something without clearing it with me first.”

Your nose scrunched in annoyance, “We don’t need someone like that down here.”

“Maybe you could let her shadow you…” he said, a smile growing as your annoyance did. “Show her the ropes. You know, that whole no-nonsense but still empathetic thing you’ve got going on might be right up her alley. You’d be a wonderful teacher.”

You deadpanned, “You owe me. Like super, major—”

“You’re the best!”

You wished you had gone to Collins instead.

Try as you did, the brashness of Santos did not quell under your careful hand and you grew more frustrated with her poor bedside manner and knack for doing things before clearing them. Just when you stepped away to use the restroom, she ordered BPAP for one of your patients and nearly killed him. Yelling was not in your wheelhouse, nor was letting something like this get the better of you, but as the shift ticked on, your fuse grew shorter. Screaming would be the worst teaching tool, but she seemed to railroad over any and all of your advice.

You passed her off to Mohan to take an hour seeing your own patients without Santos’ shadow. At the end of the hour, Mohan only gave you a knowing glance before getting back to it. By the time you went to complain to Langdon, he had disappeared. Just a bit after that, Robby sent Collins home.

Taking a deep breath, you pep-talked yourself into holding it in until the end of your shift. Then you could pass the news on to Robby and go home to forget about it.

—

When the mass casualty event was called, you fiddled with your hands, rubbing anxious circles on one of your palms. The shift had beat you up and left you out to dry, and you knew you were not likely to get out on time. Anxiety thrummed through your system, or perhaps it was the anticipation

Jack’s face was a welcomed one and you wanted to thank whoever you could that he had showed up when he did, a mess of supplies from his truck. With both Robby and Jack at the head of this, you knew the team would get through it. One patient at a time.

Robby placed you in the pink zone, with instructions to float over to yellow if they needed help. Jack found you in the supply closet trying to grab what you could to prepare for the influx in your zone, and he seemed to read you like your shift had been written on your face.

The braindead boy who no one could help. The drowned little girl no one could have saved. Dana being punched by an angry patient, which set your teeth on edge. The anguished screams of grieving family members. Your frustration with the cocky intern. Langdon abandoning you. Collins going home early. The anticipation of all the blood and loss that was sure to be waiting for you as soon as the first cars arrived with the Pittfest victims.

He squeezed your hand, “Find me if you need anything. I got you.”

There it was, that silent, all-knowing ‘always here’ anchor you had needed given in just a few simple words and a giant gesture. You smiled at him and squeezed his back, exhausted and relieved all at once.

You kicked it into gear, getting to work in your zone. Trying to ignore the tragedy around you and just focus on the medicine was easier said than done, especially getting more and more covered in blood as the shift dragged on. It truly was a blur, except for the fact that each patient was clear as day in your head.

Intubating, assessing, applying pressure to wounds, checking on the status of the operating rooms for your more critical patients, forwarding a few to red. Rinse. Repeat. A never ending cycle of carnage.

Mel whizzed past you and you looked back down at your patient, checking his pulse points. He was as stable as he was going to get, and you waved McKay over to him so you could run by yellow zone to see if they needed anything.

Whitaker’s wide eyes greeted you, “She’s doing a REBOA.”

You stopped dead, “What? Who?”

His eyes looked over to Santos, who was leaning over a patient. All the blood rushed from your head, anger and fear tangling together.

Mel was beside you then, tapping her fingers together in an anxious fashion, “I told her—I tried—“

You swallowed before rushing forward. She had already inserted the balloon, and there was not much you could do. You had only done one before, during a mass pile up over a year before, but it was under Jack’s careful supervision.

“Are you insane?” You hissed low, trying not to cause a scene.

Santos only glanced at you, “Patient was bleeding out, need to—“

“No, no, no, no.” Something snapped and all the frustration you had been feeling all day came barreling out of you. “What you need to do, Dr. Santos, is clear shit like this with your senior resident. With an attending. Literally anyone else. Mel already told you no and what do you do? This is how people die. Doctors feeding their own fucking egos and not letting themselves be checked.”

She simply stared at you, “It’s already—“

“No, this was rash.” You glanced down at the patient, seeing that the balloon was likely already in place, but from Donnie’s grim features, the patient was not doing much better. “If it worked? Amazing, great. You saved a patient. But if you keep doing this shit, someone is going to die. You’re not as infallible as you seem to think you are.”

You felt him before you saw him, a once calming presence now beside you and it made all your hairs stand on end. Like you had been caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

At the hospital, he was your attending, you were the resident and you definitely should not have lost your cool like that in the middle of the shitstorm that was already occurring. You physically braced yourself, steeling your composure and trying not to wince. Jack did not scold in public, but you had made a scene.

Jack’s attention had been pulled away from his patient at a particular voice carrying through the air, growing louder as it continued. Your voice. Unmistakable and in the chaos, completely unnerving. It was not like you to shout, or yell, especially in the mess the Pitt had found itself in. He was walking towards your voice without even thinking about it, gait rushed but not running.

“She performed a REBOA.” Mel told Jack as he approached, eyeing each of you warily. “I told her not to.” She gestured to you. “She told her not to.”

You felt Jack’s eyes on your face, and you glanced over to him. He took in your features and looked back to Santos.

“A REBOA? Are you shitting me?”

“Dr. Abbot, I couldn’t get any of the attendings and the patient was bleeding out. No other options.” Santos told him, looking at you again. “I don’t think her yelling about it, or at me right now is exactly—“

“She is a resident and you are an intern. You never should have done that on your own, ever.”

You blinked, half surprised, half thankful. You never wanted your relationship with him to bleed into the professional act you two played whenever you were in the hospital. You never wanted him to play favorites or defend you when you didn’t deserve it. But a part of you relished in him supporting you. Especially after dealing with her going over your head your entire shift.

Two nightshift nurses — Alma and Riley — and Donnie exchanged knowing glances, hiding their smirks well, while Santos just stood there. Jack looked back to you and raised an eyebrow, asking if you were okay without any words.

You gave him the tiniest of nods, likely not to be seen as anything more than a twitch, but Jack caught it easily. You were okay, for the most part anyway. You could talk to him about all of it later. You hoped this could all be behind you soon, as mild embarrassment for yelling in the ED crept up your cheeks. You would pass along the information to Robby and let him handle it. He would be likely to scold you for losing your cool and yelling like he had earlier with Langdon, who was now back floating through zones with little explanation as to why he had left.

Santos looked between you two like she was trying to read you.

Jack had his focus back on the patient, asking Donnie for her vitals.

“Carotid’s weak. Radial’s barely there.” Donnie said.

“Another three cc’s in the balloon.” Jack advised and Santos followed the instruction.

Whitaker looked up, “Radial’s much stronger now.”

“Lock the balloon. Check the wound.”

“Wound’s dry, barely a trickle.”

“That’s because there’s no blood going to her legs.” Mel whispered from beside you.

“Get IR and Vascular on the case.”

The patient began coming to, opening her eyes and looking around her tiredly. There was a relief in the sight, but the fact that this would only make Santos more bold in the future made you worry.

Jack leaned in close to Santos, “That was reckless and could have killed the patient. You need to follow the chain of command here.”

Santos gave a tense nod, her tiny smile disappearing.

You stepped away when Jack did, finding a few moments when you pulled off your gown to replace it with a fresh one. He stepped behind you to tie it while you reached for new gloves.

“It’s been a shift.” You explained simply, not even needing him to open his mouth. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”

“We can talk about it later.”

You turned to face him, “No, if you’re going to scold me, I’d rather you do it now. Get it out of the way.”

He studied your face. “Can’t change anything now. She did save the patient, but she could've just as easily made it worse. And you lost it for a minute. You know as well as anyone that yelling achieves nothing.”

You cringed, remembering your med school days.

“But you weren’t wrong.” He added, grabbing your arm and forcing you to look at him. “She took an unnecessary risk and hopefully next time, will try to find an attending, or a resident. I’ll mention it to Robby, maybe he can help her get back on track. The Pitt doesn’t need any more egos, I think we’re at capacity.”

A small smirk broke through on your lips, “Thank you.”

“You feel good enough to get back to it?” He raised a careful eyebrow.

You took a breath and nodded. You parted without ceremony, heading back to your respective zones and got lost in the work.

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

Dr. Abbot taglist: @flyinglama @valhallavalkyrie9 @melancholyy-hill @travelingmypassion @yournerdmodziata @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @artsymaddie @partofthelouniverse

The Pitt taglist: @cannonindeez @spoiledflor @kittenhawkk @nessamc @thatchickwiththecamera @sharkluver @loud-mouph @ksyn-faith @sunfairyy @dragonsondragons @mischiefsemimanaged

Did my own feelings about Santos bleed into this? …maybe. She grew on me, but oh my god she really was getting on my last nerve for most of this season. I hope season 2 comes with some growth from her.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Is there difference between "having a fetish" for a trait and "fetishizing" people who have it? I've seen some posts on here talking about the fetishization of certain demographics like its something people are morally bad for doing, but I've also seen things saying that people can't control their kinks/fetishes. Is this a case of "two words that look alike but mean different things"?

okay so I'm gonna use myself as an extremely specific example here because I don't want to throw any identities that I don't hold under the bus

let's say you're really, really into short white bitches with curly hair and big noses, okay? like, to the point that you cannot get off if a short white bitch with the big nose and the hair isn't involved. sex simply will not be satisfying without such a partner.

generally speaking, this is understood to be what differentiates a fetish from a kink. a kink is a fun little thing that falls outside the sexual norm, which you may be able to take or leave. maybe it's cool to do, but your sexual enjoyment isn't predicated on it being a part of your sexual encounters. a fetish is, basically, not optional. (there's a bit more about this in my sex ed FAQ.)

and this is fine, right? having one thing that you're really, REALLY into is fine.

now, let's talk about fetishizing. for many people with fetishes, the thing that turns them on will be exciting and, yes, perhaps even arousing even when they encounter it in nonsexual contexts. that could be rope, latex, balloons, you name it. it could also be people, either certain body parts or certain traits. so where we run into a potential conundrum is how you are treating those people.

let's revisit that short white bitch curly hair big nose fetish. when you see women who look like that, you might feel aroused. and that, by itself, if fine. but are you able to interact with these women in a way that doesn't center your fetish? if I post some selfies, for instance, are you going to feel the need to leave an unsolicited sexual comment? if we meet in real life, are you going to speak to me respectfully and reasonably without resorting to sexual harassment? do you recognize short white bitches with curly hair and big noses as individuals with different personalities, opinions, and needs, or are we all interchangeable? in short: do you see us as being as fully human as people who don't activate your fetish?

thought crimes aren't real, but how you treat people very much is.

[souljahwwitch]

MY LIVING LEGEND! 𓂃⋆.˚

𓂃⋆.˚ hc’s about thanos x dancer! reader who has a big crush on him >_< (slightly angsty)

(no squid game here!) (mentioned that the reader is very pretty (because ya’ll are!!!!)) (drugs mentioned)

𓂃⋆.˚ being thanos’s main dancer was—exhilarating to say the least, going on tours with him, being on every spot, even sometimes get interviewed because of your otherworldly beauty

𓂃⋆.˚ thanos tolerated you, he usually doesn’t get involved with the dancers but you were a different story—he got more successful because of you and your beauty, and you were just timd, so he liked having conversations with you (not the one where he tried molly with you..that was a slip-up, a mistake he promised never would happen again.)

𓂃⋆.˚ you thought thanos was blind, because how couldn’t he saw the way you look at him, as if he had the whole world in his hands, everytime he even much as passed by you—you felt like you were starstruck.

𓂃⋆.˚ you two had many slip ups, as in trying stuff together and both of you waking up confused and..half naked. but he never wanted to talk about it—never. he’d always just call his private driver to drive you home, and when dance practice came—he had to touch you, because of the choreography. and it was damn near infuriating

𓂃⋆.˚ you couldn’t even count the times you cried to your friends—cried alone even, because of him. but you couldn’t be mad either, your relationship should’ve been purely professional, right?

“you gotta stop looking at me like that, angel.” he’d hiss, making you blush—but you’d just brush it off

“likeeee what, thanos?” you’d say, smiling prettily, and as mad as he is at himself for wanting you as much as you wanted him (though he was completely blind to your feelings towards him) he couldn’t help but crack a smirk.

𓂃⋆.˚ you noticed thanos taking those little pills from his cross before every performance, and once, unfortunately, you had to say something.

“you don’t need those, you’re already great.” you mumbled and he looked at you—angrily?

“you don’t know shit about what i need or not, just dance and look ethereal like you always do, got it?” ouch.

𓂃⋆.˚ it was positively awkward between you two after that, which was strange—he shouldn’t feel awkward with you, not when you’re the only one keeping him fucking sane.

𓂃⋆.˚ he’d catch you crying because of him, and he knew—he fucking knew it was because of him, but he’d just look at you, not having the words or the courage to say something—until now

“don’t waste your tears over me, sweetheart. s’not worth it.” he mumbled, sitting beside you as his tattooed hand reached for your cheek.

“you-you don’t understand.” you said between hiccups, blushing even now at the smallest contact

“then make me—make me understand and we’ll figure something out, yeah? like we always do, sweet girl.”

[cokou]

𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 OCT 1: ARRANGED MARRIAGE # Roronoa Zoro┆Fem! Reader

Request ✉* Hi, if you’re open can I request Zoro for Oct.1 Rough sex? And female reader?If not that’s ok, I just wanted to say I love your writing and I love the work u put into making your posts aesthetic <3 Make sure to take care of urself :)

Warnings ✉* Rough sex, arranged marriage, Shit writing

WC ✉* 978 words┆5,304 characters

It only had been a week— a week of meeting this man, who you were fended off to by your 'parents'. A week of getting to know each other forcefully. A week of you trying your best to just disappear and end this suffering put between the two of you. A week of him convincing himself that not even a single attention should be provided for you, he really tried his best.

He grits his teeth to your agreeing words, which makes it much more heavier to swallow such a thick throwback from you.

"I'm not giving you a single attention just because we're married."

"I never said you should."

And yet, after all those hardships that you had put to end this, only for you to end up on his bed as he ravishes you into the thin, silky bedsheet inside his room. His bed would most likely give out soon as it squeeks everytime his hard thrusts comes along your skin once again.

With his hips starting to stutter from the rough pressure and friction to please you, he held you in place in order to keep up. Your hips buckle for more into him, forcibly making him go deeper inside your cervix. His tip remarkably bullying your cervix enough for it to end up bruising by tomorrow morning.

It's hard, he makes it soo hard to take him. Zoro full well knows that he himself is big, Zoro is a monster when it comes down from there and he knows it. It's hard, specially when his thrusts are rough yet slow ones. Yet, you take him like you were granted to him from a genie itself, that is what makes it exciting for him.

Your hole was typically stretched as big as it could to fit Zoro, it hurted a few minutes ago and was instantly replaced with pleasure. Not only that, but your core was incredibly squeezing him so hard that it makes it hard for him to just pull out. It felt so good to him, the way you clench over his thick shaft, the way you murmur sweet moans that gradually get louder and louder as time passes.

Zoro— was most definitely holding himself from going to hard on you, why? It was your first time, and he wants to savour his favorite positions for future sessions with you as he knows this won't be the last one, so that way he'd suprise you with lot's more and not the same over and over again.

You dont mind, you never will. Zoro was so lawge that you wouldn't remarably fit him immediately, which involves lot's of lubricant. It will never be the same, for you everything does have differences. Just like his pace right now compared to the first one, rough and agonizingly slow. Other than that, he was savoring the moment of your sloppy hole.

Zoro removes his bandana, wiping his forehead using it and ties it around your arm, it was soaked in his sweat and it almost felt disgusting. He runs his calloused hands over your arms towards your shoulder, simply to tease you. His rough hands were dragging along your skin, making you shiver in suprise.

Was this romanticism? He asks himself; but why? No, romance was never his forte, no it was never something he wanted to experience. But, here he was on top of you, savoring each thrust he gave you. Here he was, admiring you soft, delicate moans that echoes through his ears.

Fuck romanticism, his mind swirled around the thoughts of what was happening now— nothing was important, nothing other than projecting his hips movements, nothing other than making you cum.

His thoughts swirled more, and more. It makes him go rougher at the session. The skin slapping, your ass was very much sore from all the collision of your skins. Your moans get louder each rough thrusts he provides, this was either heaven or hell.

You held onto his shoulder as he goes faster, your eyes almost going white and you felt like you were gonna explode your climax all over him soon.

"I hope i could keep you like this forever, a hole to forever abuse." Zoro smirks on his comment,

The deep feeling deep inside his loin is heating up, he feels the spring that will almost immediately burst. He continues pounding you like a dog in heat, his hips now stuttering even more. Your nails dug on his back, leaving crescent moon shapes behind him. Your moans are heard by the whole room, possibly until outside of the room and 2 more neighboring ones.

His thrust was demonic to forever start with, the sound of his repeated thrusting and followed by the sloppiness that was developed between the both of you were starting to louden itself. Zoro was finally groaning and huffing, whilst your moans only louden at the sensation.

Zoro fastens his pace, making your eyes roll back at the back of your skull. The coil deep inside him about to snap, he takes his index and middle finger and shove them up your mouth. You swirl your tongue on his fingers and suck them as he'd like.

"Shit— take my fucking cum┅" With no more words, Zoro spills inside you with a loud thrust, making you yelp loudly, almost lolling your tongue out in ecstacy. He takes your legs and positions your knees above your head,making his cum reach deeper parts within you yourself couldn't reach. You release a loud moan along with some pants as you take your climax on his cock aswell. Gosh, it felt so good.

Zoro and You are now a panting, sweaty, and sticky mess. He plops down to the bed beside you and catches his breath, his cum slowly dripping out of your pussy.

"Physical attention doesn't seem bad."

"I know "

General M.List┆Hentober 24 M.List

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[hey-august]

This is completely self-indulgent. Through and through, all the way to it's ooey-gooey core. Borne from those fantasies that play before bed, where canon barely exists and things don't have to make sense. We're cringe and free tonight, baby. @rorywritesjunk it's finally time for Buggy to be isekaid to this world!

WC: ~1k Warnings: sfw, buggy x gn!reader, isekai, buggy is so very ooc, one bed trope hehe

Of everything you expected to do at the start of your weekend, finding a half-dressed clown in your bedroom was not one of them.

In fact, if you didn't see how he showed up there, you would have had some doubts. Only a few, since it would have been hard to rationalize the glowing numbers that seemed to be gouged into your closet door.

It started with a bright light coming from somewhere in your closet and seeping out the cracks around the door. Then some noises. Thuds and muffled voices, which you thought could belong to the neighbors. But that light certainly didn't belong to them…

Then, there he was. A complete mess. And rushing, based on how he nearly tripped into the room. Or maybe that was because of his half-buckled boots.

He was confused. You were confused.

And the door closed. That's where the numbers came in. No matter how many times either of you opened and slammed that damn door, all you found on the otherside were clothes. Far too many for someone to have been hiding in them. There wasn't another room. No "ship," which is where the guy claimed to have come from.

It took a while to get the story from Buggy. Something about fruity pirates. The poor guy seemed confused, really. And genuine. You wanted to believe him - to believe that there was another world out there, one so big that it could house all the tall-tales he was telling you.

And, honestly, you kinda did believe him. It was hard not to, after whatever the hell brought him here. Oh, and the numbers. They seemed to be counting down to something.

Now Buggy, was more reluctant to believe in the current reality. To him, it was more likely that he was kidnapped. And when you reminded this grown man with hair on his face and chest that he wasn't a kid, he wailed about being abducted.

It took some convincing, a few heated words that turned into shoving until someone fell over, a kick to the shin, a brief standoff with two weirdos wielding steak knives in the kitchen, and a promise of food to finally convince Buggy that you can show him proof.

And during this entire ordeal, you both learned something new about this predicament - that you two were stuck together. Almost literally. If there was too much space between you two, an invisible force would pull you back together. It seemed to work more on Buggy, than you. When he tried to run away, he was slingshotted back to you, sending you both too the floor. If you tried to leave him behind, he was dragged along whatever path you walked.

Anyways, back to the proof. You might have conveniently left out a few details. Like how it involved a bit of travel. And some walking. Eventually you two reached a view full of land as far as the eye could see. Mountains and hills peered back, but no ocean. No sign of a great sea anywhere in the distance.

Finally, Buggy heard a grain of truth in what you had been telling him. This world was different. Pirates were different. This isn't where he belonged.

Maybe the countdown on the door would bring a way back, but that wasn't guarantee. It was a tough truth to accept, which resulted in a somber walk back.

Until.

You remembered a local swimming hole nearby. Maybe that would bring him some comfort.

That detour turned into both of you jumping into the freshwater. Swimming, splashing, turning over rocks to find river critters, trying to skip smooth stones over the water's surface, and laughing. You tried to push Buggy in at one point, but missed and fell in. Buggy tried to throw you in, but he underestimed how much your grip would tighten, causing both of you to crash into the lake.

It was a good time. A little awkward at times, but fun.

The drive back was less fun. It was cold, uncomfortable, and your seats would need time to dry out.

Dinner would be a frozen pizza, but warming up in the shower came first.

First one, then the other. And because you couldn't be far apart, one had to sit outside the bathroom and wait. And think. And listen. And think.

Think about how there was a naked person on the other side of the door.

Or think about how they were nude and someone was waiting for them.

Or maybe think about dinner. Definitely not about the guy with a weird nose, blue hair, a loud laugh, and big hands. Or about whether the carpaet matched the dr-

Dinner time! Trashy frozen pizza and movies on the couch, late into the night.

The morning found you both still on the couch, sprawled out, covered in crumbs, and asleep. And maybe you woke up for a moment, decided this was comfy, and went back to sleep. And maybe Buggy pretended to sleep in a little longer.

(Confession - I didn't actually have much of a plan for the second day. Some ideas I kicked around were bringing Buggy to an aquarium so he can see oceanic fish. And in this world, he could wear a face mask to hide his nose in public. Another idea was to run errands together, including grocery shopping. Someone would flit with you at the store, you'd brush off their advances, Buggy would call them out, you'd brush it off again since that's not who's catching your eye right now.....)

The day was long and you two were ready for rest better than what you'd find on the couch. But you only had one bed - oh no!

Time to build a pillow barrier and come to an agreement that no one crosses the plush wall. Buggy agreed as long as you didn't snore. You agreed to the same conditions.

You both snored.

No one breeched the pillows.

Well.

Except.

Maybe.

Well, there was a thunderstorm. The rumbling was so loud that they rattled the windows and they rattled you. It was jarring to be pulled from a deep sleep so abruptly. Scary, until…

Buggy reached over the barrier and pulled, squishing you against the pillows in an awkward but welcome hug.

He told you stories about his world until you fell asleep and dreamt of his voice.

Oh, remember the countdown on the closet door? Well it was due to reach zero the next morning. And when it did, the light came back. Faint sounds came through. You swore you could even smell the ocean.

Buggy felt it, he knew what was on the other side. And he wanted to know if you'd like to see it for yourself.

And lucky for you, the captain would be more than happy to show off.

[mimikittysblog]

Dates with Poly! Ateez

Request by @punkdaze

Doing something very different and just random lol

If you have anything similar then pls ask away!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Hongjoong: I think Hongjoong would be kind of basic with his dates. His creativeness is pretty much only for performing or his art. Seonghwa’s words lol. However that doesn’t make him any less sweet. As much as he loves time together with all of his partners he prefer to just have one on one dates. Not against it at all! But he wants to do his best to give time and love for each partner individually. But yknow the occasional 3 to 4 person date is something he would thoroughly enjoy. Though even tho it’d be basic like a dinner or a shopping date he’ll always make them be special though. Think that date he took Seonghwa on to where anakin and padme got married (literally the cutest thing ever oh to be loved like that 😭). He’ll do something similar like that, maybe just take you to a nice cafe that you’ve been dying to go to, or take you to a place he knows you’d enjoy.

Seonghwa: Now for Seonghwa I think he’d probably do something that involves the both of you. In my head the most often dates with you would be lego building. Wether you enjoy lego’s as much as him or not, the activity of building lego’s is fun. So besides that maybe he’ll take you on a date where you two can create something else besides lego’s. Maybe painting or pottery. I don’t think Seonghwa is the craftiest but as long as you two are doing it together he’ll really enjoy it. Omg what if you two went together and made 9 mugs for all of you 😔 wait thats so cute. Imagine each mug you make is a lil different depending on each boyfriend 😭 Hehehe i feel like seonghwa would take the piss and draw a strawberry cake on San’s mug hehehe. Also Seonghwa I think would enjoy going on dates with multiple partners unlike Hongjoong. Since he’s a big nerd like Yunho and Wooyoung it’s not on common for those two to tag along to dates that involve a franchise or IP. And for crafty relaxing dates probably Jongho.

Yunho: Now I feel like Yunho would either take you out on a basic date as well or a very exciting one. As established he’s like Seonghwa where he’s a big nerd. So it’s not uncommon for him to take you to dates to Universal or Disney Land. However other than that this boy does have a photography hobby so I think another often date would be taking you to scenic places and capturing the most beautiful photos of you. Claiming you to be his perfect model 🥹 . He’s also an extrovert so the other lovers would often tag along. Where he would also snap the most gorgeous pictures of them. This man is a giant goofball so just know the day would 10000% be filled with laughs. Also an extra thing, Yunho seems to enjoy dressing up so I can see you two randomly deciding to cosplay together for no reason.

Yeosang: I think he’s one of the members that just prefers to just have stay in home dates. He’s not much of a planner and more of a follower. Boy is smart but also sometimes very clueless. Our precious airhead 💕 Unless something really catches his eye and would like to experience it and involve his lovers. So its often you guys inviting him on a date. Again nothing crazy, probably a dinner or just a walk in the park. Often with Yunho where the two would take their camera’s again. However the most often dates with him would be just snuggling up and watching a movie or reading a book at the same time. Where then San would often pop up and wedge himself between the two of you. Sounds like a lovely date to me 🥰

San: Now this boy. I think almost all of his dates would include more than just you. He loves you all too much and wants to include all of you. He loves amusement park rides so a trip to lotte world would be very common. However he’s also very chill so I think he’ll like to take you on late night drives for those rare individual dates. He honestly just loves being with you guys so much he would really do anything you guys want. Stay at home? Sure! Walk in the park? On it! Dinner? Dont you guys dare bring your wallets! He just wants all of his lovers happy! Which he succeeds very easily! Oh also possible gym dates if you’re up for that! He’d also make them really cheesy tho to motivate you.

Mingi: I think Mingi is the type to bring you on new and exciting dates! That honestly I can’t think of good examples for now (sorry its late and im doing this very spontaneously) just think of a very interesting and rare dates and he’ll probably want to take you on those. He’s a sentimental at heart despite being the only T in Ateez lol. So he wants his dates to be extra special and meaningful. Which usually means he doesn’t take you on those that often. He’d often times just join in on your dates with his other lovers if he had nothing planned. But boy if he did have anything planned then be prepared! You’re gonna have a hell of a good time! P.s. he’d also have gym dates with you but to tease you instead of motivating you like San 🙄

Wooyoung: Same like Mingi! He’d want to take you on exciting dates! But he’s also very domestic so I can see him wanting to chill at home a lot. Just spending time and pretending to be a big married family. Since he also enjoys cooking, I can see you two wanting to learn more and experiment so he might sign you guys up for cooking class. Omg imagine he goes to a cooking class and you go to a baking class 🥺 once you’re both done you two exchange your creations. Then share them with the others at home hnggg so cute 😭 Also this man thrives off of attention so expect a lot of dates that include your other boyfriends as well.

Jongho: Now for our precious teddy bear I think a lot of his dates would be like Hongjoongs. Pretty basic but means a lot of course. He just wants to spend time with you. So he’ll just take you out and let the moment flow. I think he wouldnt really plan it out either. I see him as a “weather is nice today! Lets go out!” Type guy. Which honestly some spontaneous moments in your life is also what you need. However from what I can tell he’s a little bit crafty as well so I can see him taking you out on dates like the ones with seonghwa. I can see him doing that trend where you two take a canvas and paint for a certain amount of time before switching until you get a full painting. Which then will be displayed in the living room. Also like hongjoong he’d probably prefer one on one dates more than big group dates. Once again of course he’s not against it and would love to join on big group dates, but yknow he’d like the one on one’s a bit more cause he gets to be in the moment with each of you without your attentions being split.

All of them: Now speaking of group dates! They happen very often however it’s usually small groups. 3-5 people at a time. With their career its hard to go on special dates with all 9 of you. So for those big group dates it’s usually at home or somewhere where they know will be private so no one can see them. It’s a struggle but so worth it. Often times its just a dinner at a restaurant in a private room. While at home you guys would have game nights, movie nights and other home activities like that. Think the Christmas time stamp i did where you guys played secret santa. Being together is all that matters. And with them, every date is special!

Extras:

You are absolutely the most spoiled

Since you are new in the relationship you do go on the most dates

They don’t really compete with each other but there are teasing moments of “Hah! My date was better than yours!” Not just with you but with the others as well

“You took him to Lotte again?!” Mingi asks

“HE LOVES LOTTE?!” Wooyoung argues

“I do love Lotte 🥰” San would chime in

San also would be very pouty about the strawberry cake on his mug but also would find it funny

Honestly i think dates with Hongjoong would always make you cry cause seriously that date he took seonghwa on?? The fuck thats so cute

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

© mimikittysblog 2025

[somnolent-scout]

To clear up a few things mentioned in this awareness post, I wanted to go into slightly more detail about it here:

The day we posted the original call-out post, multiple of us received an ask from a recently created user with a jumbled up username basically telling us that he was on a call with Cheavy and that he had run into traffic. We were extremely concerned by this message and one of us began talking to this guy. We discovered that apparently his name was Dylan and he was just a very close friend of Cheavy who was very worried for his well-being. It seemed weird, but we took it seriously. Eventually, I called the non-emergency number for a wellness check for Cheavy. They sent a team out there and then the rest of those events were played out pretty publicly on his blog.

But then we started receiving aggressive messages from this Dylan guy. At first, it was criticisms of how we acted and what we said about Cheavy. Then it was actual insults, then it was threats of blackmail. This is when I, admittedly not very appropriately, posted the "getting blackmailed xoxo" post to Tumblr containing two screenshots of the first few messages from Dylan. There was.. so.. SO much more after that. All of that is available to view in this Google photos album.

I continued to screenshot what I was being sent and once I realized something was seriously off about this guy, I stopped responding. I did not respond, regardless of whatever threats he threw at me. He seemed to be upset by this.

But then the big bombshell arrived from a mutual: Cheavy was pretending to Dylan to get our attention. We have irrefutable evidence of this claim as well, coming in the form of a screenshot from that user where Cheavy showed he was logged into this Dylan account.

Dylan was just Cheavy in a different hat.

Watching him edit a post about Dylan on his main tf2heritageposts blog three different times, only adding the "edit:" section on the third time, as he continued to unblock and reblock me while sending me various demands through the Dylan account.. it was almost hysterical. I couldn't tell if I wanted to cry or laugh or scream. It was just.. insane. The definition of insanity: Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

Just wow..

Another thing I would like to clear up is that we unfortunately faced an extreme amount of backlash for our detrimental error on censoring the names of those not involved with the making of the post. This was mostly my fault, and I cannot apologize enough for the harm it caused. I understand that the Internet, especially Tumblr, is full of rotten vile people who will do anything to attack someone over miniscule shit. I apologize to those were affected by this, and I sincerely hope that our revised version will be better.

No one should have to face shit like that online. I should know, as I've been there and done that a dozen times.

Also, an additional thing that happened the night of the post, around 10:30pm I received a voicemail from Cheavy's phone number. I have had his contact and phone number BLOCKED for months. But somehow he was able to leave a very weird voicemail.

This was sent to my phone between the first few messages from Dylan and the posts about going to the hospital on tf2heritageposts.

[Transcript: Visual Voicemail format, censored name labeled as "Cheavy", plays a brief moment of silence before the words "Hi Sol!" are said in a sing-song tone. Sent on December 8th, at 10:40pm.]

Anyways, these are just some additional things I wanted to add but didn't want to clog up the awareness post with it.

[voxceleste]

hiiiii you’re one of my favorite fic writers ever and i admire you so much. i wondered if you had any advice for other writers of how to improve? especially for someone who has been writing for years but feels like they’ve hit a point of stagnation/knows they’re “good” at writing but feels like they’re just not hitting their full potential. also, if you had any advice for the differences in working on shorter pieces vs longfics, any guidance or methods that worked for you would be so appreciated!! your work has been very genuinely inspirational to me and i hope you have a great day <3

thank you for your kind words! <3

mileage varies more with regards to writing advice than maybe anything else, so it's possible none of this will work for you.

a common framework in education theory/neurobiology/psychology/etc is that there's a goldilocks zone between comfort and frustration wherein most learning happens. games studies has a similar idea, that a game has to be mentally engaging enough to keep the player invested without making it so punishingly hard that they quit.

writing is pretty much free. unlike most other creative mediums, the scope of a project has no relationship to the value of the materials or tools needed to produce it. you're only limited by your own energy, time, and effort--which can be formidable restrictions, to be fair, but it's not like being a filmmaker, where good-quality equipment and collaborators simply take more resources to afford. writers should take advantage of this. we're really lucky in this way.

the best thing you can do to improve your writing is to attempt projects that feel a little too big for you, or that you're not confident you can pull off. it doesn't have to be "big" in terms of length; a short piece could qualify if the style, tone, structure, subject matter, etc is outside of your comfort zone, but in my experience this has often looked like longer and more complex projects. then again, i love writing long stuff, so take it with a grain of salt--some people just don't, but you mention wanting to try your hand at longfic, so i assume it's relevant. the point is that in order to grow your skills, you have to stretch them.

past fic projects that stick out in my mind for having pushed me to grow as a writer:

story with 4 POV characters, alternating POVs at a regular cadence, where goings-on in each section would affect the other chapters

story with a real-world historical setting that required research wrt material culture as well as timeline/"who was where when"

story that blended a codified and formulaic genre template (het romance novel) with seemingly incongruous story elements (protag being a passively suicidal closeted trans woman and ex-evil mastermind)

the common denominator is having a very specific story i wanted to tell about these specific characters, and digging my teeth into how to do that in a way that felt specific and not just a recycling of common fanficisms… though in all cases, there were at least one or two other fics i looked at for inspiration, if only in a distant way. (those fics, in turn, are often what i'd consider examples of "fanfic that is also just good, ambitious writing," whether or not they would stand alone as original fiction--but that's a different post that's already been made by others.) (they are also full of tropes and are very fanficcy in their own ways!) i had to put a lot of thought into how to approach them in a way that was most true to what they wanted to be in my heart, and usually had one or two specific touchpoints of non-fanfic media that i used to get my bearings, which is a good habit to get into whether or not you're interested in branching out into original fiction writing.

with regards to the transition into longfic writing… writing processes are idiosyncratic and whatever advice i give you has a good chance of being totally useless. it'll probably involve a lot of trial and error, unfortunately. some tidbits:

the worst thing a story can be is boring and this is doubly true for long stuff. i would always rather an author turn the dial a little too far than not far enough to be impactful

can't overstate the utility of a good beta reader as well as a good cheerleader or two to whom you can dump your 2am story thoughts and troubleshoot your plot issues

start the story at the latest possible point in time; many a longfic idea dies on the vine because the author thinks they have to do way more setup than is actually required. this doesn't mean you have to open in medias res with an action sequence, but if you're opening on something more quiet or "expositiony," you should know *why* you're starting there, and should be able to draw up that scene vividly and characterfully

putting a little bit of effort into fleshing out your setting and side characters can help you a ton if you write yourself into a corner. if you're stuck, it's hard to come up with a story element from nothing when your story revolves around two floating heads in featureless rooms

the period between being 1/3-2/3 done is the actual fucking worst. it's miserable every time. the story is no longer a beautiful shining thing in your head, it's an ugly blob of misshapen clay, and you haven't seen it all start to come together yet. it's not you or your project, it just sucks and there's no way out but through

trust your idea! trust your own ability! trust the magic that can be worked in the edit!

if you bite off more than you can chew with a project and aren't able to finish it, or you're disappointed by how it turns out, that's really disappointing and difficult, which i don't want to downplay. but it's not wasted time, even if no one else sees the results of your work. that effort and experience will make you a better writer.

other advice that may or may not work for you:

read a lot of fiction; read fiction that is not fanfiction, especially; read outside of your usual genres/favourite authors; read authors who are known for unusual or singular styles. challenge yourself to write something imitating one of their styles, even for a page or two. what are the characteristics of a paragraph by octavia butler? how does she approach sentences? how is that different from a similar length of text by victor hugo?

read about writing craft, not from bloggers but via well-regarded books. even if you don't agree with all the advice (which you probably won't) or it's not all directly relevant to you, these texts will address fundamentals that apply to almost all kinds of prose and prompt you to develop unglamorous good habits. steering the craft by ursula k. le guin spends each chapter on an element of writing, such as sound & rhythm or punctuation, and includes exercises to put her principles into practice. on writing well by william zinsser is a classic--its focus is nonfiction, but much of the advice is widely applicable. both of these texts are full of example excerpts from great english prose stylists. books like this aren't likely to introduce groundbreaking new ideas so much as train you to become more consciously aware of elements of style you may be less attentive to than you could be.

your only hard limitation as a writer is your own creativity; drive your stories like cars in GTA. you're here for a wild time, not a long time, and if it blows up you can just get a new one.

[exhaslo]

Hello! I really enjoy the last post you wrote involving the alternative outcome of Villain!Miguel x Hero![Reader]. I have another fun idea and it may be a little META.

Since there are a ton of Spider-Man 2099/Miguel O’Hara fics circulating around the internet…

How about a request with Spider!Fem![Reader] who secretly reads fanfics and smut fics she found from different universes in the multiverse? Let's say the [Reader] was reading fics involving her boss and the leader of the Spider Society, Miguel O’Hara since she is completely DOWN BAD for him. Then one day, she’s reading some smut involving Miguel and he catches her doing so.

He’ll probably tease her about it and things would escalate to something hot and spicy between the two Spiders.

- @club-danger-zone

*Looks around* Shall we break some cannon events? RIP SORRY FOR BEING CRINGE BUT LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOO

Warning: Minors DNI, Smut, teasing, size kink, dirty talk

------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was getting bad. You needed to learn some self control. You kept telling yourself that, but it was difficult. You had a big problem that involved your fellow Spider, the boss man, the big bad leader of the Spider Society: Miguel O'Hara.

You were head over heels for the man. He was the definition of FINE. Honestly, you never even knew that such a Spiderman existed. You, yourself, was a Spider-Woman. Like everyone else, you had your story and your life. The only thing you didn't have compared to the others was a person who loved you.

No Mary-Jane.

No Gwen Stacy.

Hell, no Peter Parker.

You were your own variant. It frustrated you. So, when Miguel brought you along to the Spider Society, you ended up simping hard for him. You had so many wet dreams about him. So many nights with whatever sex toy you had in your closet. It was getting really bad. You needed to get laid or find something to entertain you.

"Heeeeey, (Y/N), guess what I stumbled upon," Lyla appeared before you.

You had just entered one of the guest rooms that some of the Spiders used to crash for the night. You turned towards the AI, taking off your suit.

"That you found or Miguel?"

"Me! Miguel would probably shut this down if he found out," Lyla said with a grin, sending you something.

You were suspicious, but checked your mail anyway. You were very close to Miguel, in his inner circle, so you had access to Lyla. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you saw the file before you. Lyla just appeared before with with a confident grin.

"That word doesn't have a real Spiderman. Apparently the Miguel there is in a movie. Soooooo, there are soooooo many stories involving him. You're going to enjoy the smut~"

"I-I can't," You said as you opened the first website, "You are a horrible influence. I will not read these!"

---------

"Oh my god, keep going," You whispered as you clicked on the next chapter.

Your cheeks were bright red as a wide smile engulfed your face. You were enjoying all of this smut far more than you would like to admit. Hell, it made those dreams of yours even more vivid. While it did not help with your raging crush, it did get your mind off of currently wanting to fuck your boss.

"Yes!" You squealed in joy.

"Someone is in good mood." Miguel said as he walked by, "You've been focused on your watch for the past week. What could you be reading from another universe?" He asked.

Your face paled as you quickly hid your watch. Miguel would never talk to you again if he knew. Hell, he might kick you out of the Spider Society for conflict of interest. That was the last thing you wanted.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel questioned.

Miguel could sense your nervousness. His senses were higher than everyone's. Sighing softly, Miguel motioned you to follow him to his office. He had originally approached you for another reason. He could never ask you about it though. Once the two of you were alone, Miguel looked at his watch and started to type away.

"Let's see...(Y/n)'s watch."

"W-Wait! Miguel, before you do-"

"Oh-" Miguel immediately made eye contact with you, "I didn't even know there was a world like this. Very specific."

"I-I'm sorry! I was just curious and you know...The stories were just so good-"

"His tongue swirled around your clit?" Miguel's grin widen towards your flustered cheeks, "The sheer size of his dick made you feel full?"

"M-Miguel...Y-You d-don't-" You bit your lower lip, feeling your body warm up as he read the story.

"I never knew you were into all this smut, and about me none the less. That explains why you smelled extra sweet this past week," Miguel muttered the last part, watching you, "You know (Y/N), you don't need to read these."

You glanced towards Miguel, watching him approach you. Your heart was racing as his body pressed against yours, pinning you to the wall. You could feel his hot breathe. This wasn't what you were expecting. He was teasing you for reading porn about him!

"I could have helped you instead," Miguel whispered in your ear. You stared right into his lustful eyes,

"So...I'm not in trouble?" Your voice was low as you leaned closer to him. Miguel chuckled lowly, his thumb pulling against your bottom lip,

"Do you want to be?"

"Depends on the punishment," You felt dazed as you leaned towards Miguel's lips.

"Read the story to me," Miguel whispered as he licked your lips before pulling away.

You whimpered lowly, your body craving him. Why did he have to do this to you? Miguel was just so tempting. You were folding hard. Without hesitating you pulled the story up and you started to read the story.

"His hands gently stroked down y-your waist," Your breathing shuddered as Miguel's hands started to do as you read. "H-His hips g-grind-"

"What's wrong? Can't even read me a story?" Miguel chuckled lowly as you watched you melt under him.

"H-His d-dick-" You gasped lowly as Miguel started to grind his hips against yours.

You whimpered quietly as you felt your panties get damper and damper. Miguel's face was so close to yours. Miguel brought his lips to your neck as he held your hips closer. His fingers rubbing circles around your hips.

"What about my dick?" Miguel chuckled as he felt you trembled, "Such a naughty girl, reading such things about me. All you had to do was ask,"

Miguel slowly undid the bottom of your suit, exposing your soaked and desperate cunt. He lifted you onto his desk, demanding that you kept reading. Much to his amusement, you did. Miguel resisted a groan as he took his dick out, rubbing it against your folds. Your moans were so sweet.

"M-Miguel s-started....s-started to...to e-enter-" You stuttered, trying to focus on reading, but was getting distracted. You whimpered a moan as Miguel started to push his tip inside you.

"You're sucking me in so well, you've been wanting this for how long now?" Miguel held your waist, sliding his cock deeper into you, "I could have made you feel good so much sooner. Were you that oblivious to my gestures?"

You cried softly as you focused on Miguel's thick length stretching your walls out. Your back rested against his desk, muffling moans as you squeezed against him.

"I-I guess so?" You told him. Miguel scoffed lowly before thrusting into you, "Ah~ W-Wait~"

"After making me wait so long? After masking my office with your sweet scent so many times? Amor (love), I've waited long enough and so have you."

You cried out a series of moans as Miguel started to slap himself into you. His dick making itself at home within your pussy. It felt so right. Felt so much better than you doing it yourself at home. You wrapped your legs around Miguel's waist, wanting to get closer to him.

"Who do you think gave Lyla access to those stories?" Miguel chuckled as you cam against his dick, "I grew tired of waiting and wanted to give you a little push."

"H-Hah~ Mhm~ C-Can...C-Can we do what some of those stories did then?" You begged. Miguel raised a brow as he pinched your clit, watching you squirm,

"That and more. My naughty girl needs to be punished first."

You moaned to his wishes, having him use you for his pleasure. Tears formed in the corner of your eyes, feeling your body grow hot again. With a grunt and a deep thrust, Miguel cam inside you. You shivered from the feeling, crying out his name.

"That's right. Now you're being a good girl," Miguel panted softly, soaking in the state you were in, "As much as I would love to continue, I have some reports to do. Why don't you pick your favorite story and we'll continue this tonight?"

"Mhm," You nodded towards his request, watching Miguel fix himself.

Miguel smiled before stealing a kiss from you before leaving. You nearly squealed as you fixed yourself up. Looking through all your saved stories, you felt a new fire light up inside you.

"Ohhhhh, I'm getting wrecked tonight~!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Haha, hope you enjoyed this!

[kiryoutann]

i wanted to rant about simon.

what do you think so far like what are your actual headcanons for the canon simon vs this simon from this series?

my feelings about the actual simon is quite vague. i've read far more fanfictions than bothering with the actual material so my picture of his is not really...constant? idk

but with this simon, he scares me. just to think about people that can engage in such romantic and sensual acts with little to no feeling involved.

or the mc's father. her dad makes me feel such an anger and injustice that i don't know how to express it and i know we probably won't get a satisfying update on him.

you don't like your wife fine i could understand the distance between them, but how can somebody forget their child no matter if they share the same blood or not, after all the time he raised her

leaving all that behind just to start a whole new life. how can that not eat somebody alive

OHH this is actually a good question. honestly for me, simon is probably one of the hardest character to write about because he doesn't give away too much. too calm. too know-it-all.

we're just gonna talk about the romance aspects!

but based on my head-canon of the canon simon, he has those younger years where he avoids romance, but not this actively and aggressively. it's more because he has too much on his plate (anger management issues, PTSD, depression) than because he think he's not good enough for some happiness (but he also doesn't expect/hope for it.)

canon younger (probably 6-7 years after he killed Roba) Simon lives his life without the need for things to turn out in certain ways. as he gets older (yes, the 2022/2023 ghost) and better mentally, he's become a little more open to the idea, though.

he's still not actively seeking romance, settling on one-nightstands and things that don't require any strings attached. however, he's not completely closed off to the idea too. if he has someone he likes AND TRUST (this is already a high wall to get over), he might act on it. but again, not really actively pursuing it and knows he doesn't need it.

and this might come as a surprise, but he's actually the biggest flirt out there—well, at least when it's only the two of you. when in front of his taskforce, he goes back to acting like he's the calm, collected, cool, stoic, scary lieutenant that everyone knows. can't have you ruin his reputation, right?

"it's private but not secret," with him. though it's not loud PDA, sometimes he lets his hands linger in places like your waist, your hips, shoulders. his love language is act of service, gift giving, physical touch—he makes sure to always appreciate you with compliments and love affirmations, but he's never really a man who's big on words.

WHILE THIS SIMON, hmmm.. he's a bit more complicated. and a mess. at some point, you can think of him as the younger version of canon simon we just talked about to simplify it, but even that's not really accurate considering the different ways they handle "all that sappy stuff" (as simon would say). this one actively and AGGRESIVELY avoids romance.

and while they both (my ver. of canon simon and this simon) sort to flings and one-nightstands, the canon simon is more careful and actually follows the boundaries he draws himself. while this simon outlines the boundaries, follows his rules until an interesting bird enters his orbit, violates them, and destroys them himself before he goes around saying "you read that wrong, darling."

NOW, ABOUT THE FATHER. . .

RIGHT! in my opinion, it's better for them to get a divorce actually and Dad still plays a role in MC's life rather than just leaving her. like, i know it'll still hurt the MC but, at least she can still have both of her parents even though in different houses! at least she doesn't have to feel neglected in her childhood.

okay, you hate someone you thought you would love forever, but abandoning your child? whose very existence was created because of you? talk about the Dad will come up in the sequel. hell, he'll even make an appearance with his two ballet loving new daughters. imagine how MC will feel.

sadly, this happens a lot in real life. fathers leaving and starting a new life without thinking about his "old" family. how people shame single mothers but never the absent fathers. people shame many women who have "daddy issues" or call them "fatherless" yet never call out men's incapability of being a real, PRESENT father.

[haikyuu-tee]

I haven't written in forever, so sorry if this is rough. However, it's late and I'm thinking about friends to pathetically in love Suna so....

________

As teens neither of you really notice that he likes you, or that there is anything more than friendship. It was circumstance that brought you together. You happened to be his first desk mate after he moved to Hyogo, and you were friendly at that. You offered snacks during breaks, shared your notes when he needed it, and made an effort without pushing his boundaries. It was kinda just one of those friendships that happen at that age. A mixture of proximity and the fact that overall you two just mesh well. It was a refreshing ease compared to everything that Suna had to get used to after moving. You were like a railing on a particularly steep set of stairs, sturdy and there to keep him from falling. 

He didn’t treat you much different from his other friends, so it wasn’t like either of you could ever know there was more to it. You slowly became a part of the volleyball team’s circle, and Suna was an occasional guest star in your own little group of friends when time allowed. Only people who really paid attention to the middle blocker’s mannerisms would notice. Which out of the people around him, would most likely be Kita. At some point Suna unconsciously started to be more aware of your presence. He’d always greet you quickly when you walked into a room, not even needing to look up to know it’s you, but he always did. He’s not a particularly flashy player, nor does he care much about standing out anyways. He’s an excellent blocker, of course, but compared to the twins he was fine being in the background a bit. Kita noticed at some point, if you happened to be at a practice, Suna would try a little harder. Suna wouldn’t try to slack off and go unnoticed, he’d put in more work. Kita doesn’t think he’s aware of it even, seeing you all interact. He has no interest in getting involved in his underclassman's love life anyways. But he does make a point to tell you to come to as many games as your schedule would allow, citing that it’s good for team morale. You tell Suna, glowing at the prospect that Kita might like you, meaning just as a person. Neither of you notice how your choice of words makes Suna briefly scowl.

When you graduate you make him promise to save his second button for you, other girls would misunderstand if he gave it away frivolously you’d tease. He agrees, but he asks for your nametag in exchange, his second button is very valuable. Atsumu makes a big deal out of this, teasing Suna thinking that you two are finally flirting. However, you both dismiss his claims, drawing a line that you are just friends. You promise to stay in touch, and you move onto college. It’s not until around this time that Suna starts to realize maybe all of that ribbing you guys endured in high school wasn’t for nothing. You invite him out to a freshman welcoming party when you’re both old enough to drink. You tell him you’re nervous, an upperclassman from your department is a little too friendly so he’s there to buffer for you. Suna is fine with this, it isn’t the first time the two of you have done this for one another after all. There were lots of girls who used to try to give you confession letters for him back in the day. On his request you always turned them down, saying you weren’t comfortable getting involved but really it was Suna’s hope that they wouldn’t have the courage to give it to him themselves. It’s your first time drinking together, and he can immediately tell what you were worried about. He arrives a little later than he wanted to, stuck at practice. You’ve already had enough to drink to make your cheeks flush, but the older man next to you keeps pouring more into your cup. Too kind to refuse, you take cautious sips, trying to eat in between each one. The man next to you puts an arm around your shoulder, and it makes Suna’s stomach do a weird lurch that he’s never really felt before. He’s over to your side in a second, towering over the man in his seat. You’re too drunk to notice the dangerous, some might say possessive, look in his eyes as he stares down the man. You’re too happy to see your friend, reaching for him like a lifeline. He sits beside you, pulling your seat closer to his and taking the drinks for you. The man doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, grumbling that you should have said something if you had a boyfriend. Unlike before, he doesn’t correct him, and you’re too drunk and relieved to hear the remark. 

After that night it becomes increasingly clear to Suna that his feelings for you go way beyond friendship. In fact, it kinda keeps him up at night as he tries to trace back when these feelings even started. It embarrasses him that it’s taken this long to figure himself out. He cringes thinking about his behavior in his youth, how in hindsight he always wanted to be next to you. The jealousy was always there, and he was way less insistent to any boys who asked him about your relationship that there wasn’t anything going on. He liked that just being your friend meant that most of them didn’t even bother trying. The few that did didn’t last long anyways. You had a few boyfriends in high school, sure, but you could never figure out why they didn’t last. Suna used to think it was just because you had shit taste in men. But looking back with this new lens, he realized he wasn’t exactly the friendliest to your boyfriends. He was quick to establish that he knew you better, that he was your favorite and he wasn’t going anywhere. He remembered one boyfriend got you chocolate covered almonds as a gift, setting them on your desk as a surprise. He snatched them up, and gave the man a disappointed once over. “She can’t eat almonds, she’s allergic. You don’t even know that about your own girlfriend?” Another memory that made him grip his face in frustration. But he was always doing that, telling others what you liked, or didn’t like as if it were something to brag about that he knew and they didn’t. So fucking childish of him, fuck.

When he asks the twins if they knew, the both exchange a look before laughing in his face. Another thing to add to his long list of embarrassing moments. Atsumu laments that it took him long enough to open his eyes, how he thought it would never happen. Osamu is a bit less annoying about it, but does offer a very blunt, “I always just thought ya were just a coward and acted like nothin was goin on between ya.” Although he didn’t appreciate the delivery, it did make him think. Was that what he was doing all this time? Maybe he just didn’t want to risk rejection. Afterall, losing you kinda meant losing his security blanket. Maybe subconsciously he suppressed his feelings, rationalized them, and tucked them away because it was easier. Was he even ready to let go of that now? It’s not like you saw each other much, holding onto your close friendship would already be hard enough. Did he have the time to commit to giving you a fulfilling relationship? Would you even want that from him? He would think back to all the times you easily brushed off rumors of the two of you dating. Even painfully, pathetically even, remembered a few times that you laugh at the mere idea of it. 

What if you just saw him as your good pal Suna? Just good ol’ Rintaro, oh that middle blocker I knew back in high school he was such a hoot! It made him spiral just thinking about what your impression of him was. He’d never worried about what you thought of him. If you thought he was handsome, or cool, or maybe even just briefly thought you’d like to date someone like him one day. He’d always just been content that you guys were friends. What if you thought of him as a brother?! He didn’t think he would be able to emotionally recover from that. What if this made you distance yourself? Could he even handle that much? Now that he was aware of it, he wanted more of you. He’s selfish, he can’t help that. He’s always liked that you were special to each other. Now he had to accept the bitter realization that you were always far more special to him than he was to you. How could he even act normal around you now? All he could think about was you. How pretty you are, kind, smart, funny, everything he wanted. He found himself looking at old photos, stalking your socials a bit. It couldn’t hurt, right? He didn’t get to fully experience the lovesick teenager part of this crush when it was actively happening, he was just making up for lost time. 

It almost sickens him how quick he is to reach for his phone when he gets a little popup that you posted a new story. He hovers over the view button, before he wouldn’t have hesitated, but now he kinda worries if you’d think he was creepy if he watched it too quickly. After a minute he figures it’s safe, and he clicks on the little icon of your smiling face. Suna’s stomach does that weird lurch again, only this time it’s visceral, it lingers like a small beast trying to claw up his chest to his heart. There on his small screen is a simple picture, two hands, fingers interlocked together. A small little caption accompanying the offensive image, as if he needed more clarification of this disaster. “Is this what they call a soft launch?”

[dustysalmon]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 4

Pairing: Silco x Reader Rating: Explicit Warnings/Tags: graphic depiction of violence; slow burn; enemies to lovers, enforcer!reader Word count: 3.5k

Summary: After a chain of unexpected events, Jinx is arrested, and you find yourself in possession of the gemstone. On top of it all, you are forced into a reluctant alliance with Silco. What else could possibly go wrong?

Read on ao3 ⎜ Previous chapter ⎜Next chapter

The ride to the factory was unusually quiet, not that Silco has ever been the talkative kind. But not even a word, even for him, that’s not a good sign.

He has little doubt about the identity of the people responsible for the raid, and while he is happy to spare himself the investigative work, the fact that Piltover may be fully involved leaves him perplexed. Sevika is right: it’s been years since topside made such a bold move against the undercity. He is accustomed to the Council interfering with his operations through insidious means—voting in policies designed to stifle his trade or quietly destabilising the political landscape. But this is different, it’s an open aggression, on his territory. While Silco has never shied away from the idea of an open war between the two cities, he hadn’t thought it would happen so suddenly. That is the second time that he finds himself surprised this evening, and that is a problem. Things are moving too fast for his liking, his associates grow more incompetent and unreliable every day, and topside decides this is a good time to strike at the heart of his empire. His days are numbered, he knows it, and it doesn’t help to be surrounded by greedy snakes. 

Glass debris crack under his shoes as he walks amongst the rubble alongside Sevika. Carcasses of chem-guards are lying around, smashed to bits. From the look of it, the enforcers called to the scene went out of their way to render them permanently inoperable in the future, which makes Silco wonder. Those war machines were specifically designed to fight topside, they should not have been taken down so easily. And that’s the kicker, they hadn’t just been defeated, they’d been utterly crushed. Whatever was deployed against his prototypes tonight it was not standard weaponry, but something far more advanced, powered by a powerful technology. A technology like Hextech. The issue is, Piltover—and Jayce Talis specifically—had been clear on the fact that Hextech was not to be used for warfare. While Silco is always cautious about trusting Piltover’s assurances, this would constitute a direct violation of the current standing laws. The city is certainly not above committing state-sanctioned crimes, but it would have required an announcement—or at the very least an emergency Council vote— both of which Silco would undoubtedly have caught wind of. Something is off about this, and he has to find out what. Sooner rather than later. 

"That lady enforcer wasn’t kidding. They’re planning something up there." Sevika says as she follows him closely. She can see the unrest in his posture, how tense he is under that big coat of his.

"Find out everything you can about her. Her background, where she lives, who she talks to. And make sure she knows we’re watching."

"Do you think she knew about this?" Silco doesn’t respond for a time. Lying to his face would be a dangerous mistake on your part, and a death sentence. Part of him has long since learnt not to trust anyone, but there was something about the way you pleaded your case—your desperation, your distress—that felt genuine. Like someone backed into a corner, clinging to their last, fragile hope. Then again, his instincts are not reliable these days. 

Silco traces a gloved hand along the jagged edges of the Shimmer containers. The glass , which his engineers swore was practically indestructible, is also shattered to pieces. Drops of the purple liquid still leak from the wreckage, pooling at his feet. This mess is going to cost him. A lot. He counted about eight chem-guards on the ground, on his way in, and there’s probably more on the top floors, not to mention that all the workers of the factory were taken into custody, even the children. The more he thinks about it, the more he is convinced that this was no random attack. No, this is personal. 

"I don’t know yet." He says, and that fact visibly frustrates him. That was the convenient part of having Marcus at his service. At this time, Silco would have had him dragged to his office for a solid explanation— along with an apology, just for the fun of it— and the problem would have been sorted before tomorrow. Actually, Marcus probably would have prevented this from happening in the first place. Under his jurisdiction, enforcers stayed out of Silco’s business. That’s what he was paid for. And up until his death, he’d done a fairly good job of it. The few times he brought the cavalry, it was at Silco’s request, like after an attack from the Firelights. But now, Silco doesn’t have a trustworthy mole in the enforcer ranks anymore. And it’s not like you qualify as a replacement. Not yet anyway. Everyone has a price, but truthfully, money isn’t the issue. There can always be a highest bidder, and that’s not a risk Silco is willing to take. The reason the late Sheriff was reliable was because he had too much to lose by betraying him. The amount of dirt he had accumulated on Marcus was astronomical. He kept paying him purely out of business courtesy, but he really didn’t have to. Unfortunately, digging that dirt is a long and meticulous process, one that he doesn’t have time for at the moment. Nevertheless, the more he knows about you, the better, and whatever Sevika manages to find will benefit him one way or the other.

At the centre of the large room, Renni kneels at her son’s side, holding his bloodied face between trembling palms. Lost in her grief and fury, she whispers into his ear the promise of vengeance against those who murdered him. Finn stands nearby, flicking his lighter open and shut in a way that’s really starting to grate on Sevika’s nerves. His greenish, reptilian eyes track the scene, following the pair as they observe the damage. He looks positively unbothered and serene with his flashy coat over his shoulders, and the Slickjaws’ signature mask adorning the lower part of his face, all polished and golden. But in truth, the man’s confidence has taken a few blows recently. 

First there was this humiliation at the last assembly, where he managed to make a complete fool of himself in front of the other chem-barons. The image of Silco hovering above him, taunting him with a gas mask as he choked on the Grey is not going away any time soon. It makes him sick to his stomach. And now, there’s this embarrassing security breach, for which he is responsible for. Finn and his crew are the appointed attack dogs of the undercity—scare tactics, blackmail, extortion, ensuring safety and control in strategic places. You name it, that’s his area of expertise. And this mishap won’t go unnoticed. 

Renni calls out Silco, blames what occurred here on his carelessness, and demands answers regarding his plans to fix the situation. And then proceeds to throw a jab at Jinx. Silco takes a breather, he knows it’s the grief talking, but nonetheless he answers her reprimands with barely disguised contempt, and he doesn’t particularly care how insensitive it is. As he looks down towards the little boy, for briefest moment, he sees a vision of Jinx, her frail body laying on that damned bridge after the explosion, burnt and bruised. He thinks about how much he wanted to hold her then, cradle her in his arms like he has done so many times before. He should have ran to her then, never mind the pack of enforcers standing between them. It’s out of his hands now, and he loathes it. He throws one last look at the boy and takes his leave.

Your hands are trembling, too heavy, you can’t bring yourself to move them. The sound comes next, so loud it leaves nothing behind but silence. And then the fall. A body crumples, limp and lifeless, hitting the ground with a dull, sickening thud. The noise sinks into your bones, repeating over and over like it will never stop.

The first thing you notice as you wake up is that you’re having trouble breathing. But it’s not the dream, and the air doesn’t feel worse than usual. You place your palm against the front of your neck and curse. Dammit. Your chem-surge. You were supposed to get new Shimmer doses yesterday. Well, to be fair, your schedule has been slightly disrupted due to recent events, and it’s not like the market is ever closed. Might as well do it now, and then you can directly drop by your mom’s to give her her injection. You equip yourself with a solid pair of boots, essential when heading down to the sump levels, and tuck a decent amount of cash into a paper bag. 

Shimmer is not cheap, at least not in the way you buy it. Most of what’s sold in the lower levels is raw, unrefined, if you will, and incredibly potent. One injection is all it takes to turn a user into an addict. That’s why it’s the most popular product here, and also, it’s the cheapest kind of Shimmer available on the market. People down here don’t have the luxury of choice—it’s either that, or low-grade chemtech. Both options wreak irreparable damage on the body over time. 

The wealthier people of the Undercity—and there aren’t many of them—can afford balanced versions of those products. Much safer to consume, it’s basically what was promised to fissure folks from the beginning: a proper medicine. Not a drug, but something to help the undercity’s denizens against most respiratory diseases. Unfortunately, this variant was never widely commercialised, which made you realise that safe consumption of the product had never been the priority, it was always about the money. As a result, balanced Shimmer is available only for a select few. For a price. A price you can barely afford. Almost the entirety of your pay is spent on Shimmer, whatever is left goes to food. It’s not a great life, but the alternative was out of the question. You’d seen too many of your friends die because of that poison, saw them turn into beings closer to animals than humans. Not a path you would have chosen for yourself or your mother. 

Your throat burns as you get deeper down the lower levels, you haven’t been this careless in a while. In Piltover, you reckon you could manage without your chem-surge for a few hours. But here, well, you hope you won’t have to find out the hard way. Better get this done quickly. And there’s your seller, tall frame leaning against the wall, slim as a wisp. It’s a good thing the wind doesn’t reach these streets because the poor bastard would be toppled over. Alastair is not the type to sit idly behind a counter, waiting for a sale. He roams the alleys, striding on his long legs, always looking for his next client. Because that’s the issue down here: they die quickly, or simply disappear. His hollow eyes widen at the sight of you.

"Oh, if it isn’t my favourite customer," he drawls, straightening himself. “Come for your usual, love?” You roll your eyes but keep stepping closer.

"No, I’m just here to see you, handsome." You say as you lean in next to him and offer him an exaggerated smile. Suddenly very interested, he starts slicking his greasy hair back and licking his cracked lips. Oh, Janna…

"My vials, Alastair." You say in a much drier tone, crushing all his hopes. 

"Right." He mumbles, disappearing behind the fumes and into a building. 

Around you, empty vials of Shimmer lay on the ground. As far as you know, you’re the only client who buys the tampered variant from him. Typically, people would get it on the upper levels, in the Lanes and perhaps even the Alcove district. But it’s even more pricey there. What you have going on with Alastair is a good deal for both of you. He gets to make more than ten times his usual turnover whenever you buy from him, and you get the best product for the lowest price on the market. Admittedly it’s still outrageously high, but you don’t have a choice.

Further up the street, a man with rags for clothes is crawling on all fours, picking up every vial he can find. He inspects them thoroughly, searching for any residue. Occasionally, he sniffs and licks the inside to catch a forgotten drop, or anything remaining, really. Most of the skin around his mouth is eaten away, leaving what is left of his teeth permanently visible. His skin is so pale and thin it looks as though the bones could pierce through at any moment. Funny, how something can either save you, or kill you in the most horrific way—slowly, corrupting your nerves, your blood, substituting itself for your very life, and sucking it all out. That’s Shimmer for you. 

Alastair emerges with your goods in hand, with the face of someone who knows they’re gonna make a pretty buck today. He hands you the vials one by one.

"Much obliged." You thank him as you shove your new purchase into a bag that you close securely. Walking around with Shimmer in the lower Fissures is a dangerous thing to do, and you’re not about to let your savings go to waste out of carelessness. You give him the paper bag and wait patiently as he counts. It’s taking longer than usual, and when you look up at him you can tell that he isn’t satisfied. You wait for him to explain himself. He scratches his head.

"I’m afraid you’re short 500 cogs." About a quarter of what you just paid. You stare at him with a frown, anger and disbelief rising inside.

"Excuse me?" Alastair shrugs in a way that makes you want to slap the insolence out of him. 

"Well, I’m sure you’ve noticed that the blockade has been hard on all of us. It’s just business, darling, I’m sure you understa—" In a flash, your hand shoots out and grips the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward until your faces are inches apart. Alastair yelps, his bony fingers clutching at yours.

“Tell me something, Alastair,” you say, your voice disturbingly calm but razor-sharp. "You wouldn’t want a bunch of enforcers poking around your business now, would you?" Alastair blinks rapidly, his earlier bravado crumbling as he shakes his head vigorously. 

“Of course not. Now, I paid what I owe, and I will be leaving with what I came for. Is that clear?” He nods rapidly, the fear in his eyes evident. You’re gonna need a bit more than that. You raise your voice just slightly to make sure the point gets across.

"Words, Alistair." He swallows with difficulty, and the confirmation comes out dry and painful.

"Y-yes." You hold him there a while longer for good measure before letting him go with a shove.

"Good man." You say, and he stumbles back against the wall, smoothing his shirt with trembling hands. “Pleasure doing business with you.” Without so much as a glance, you stride back the way you came from. In the back of your mind, you know this was probably not the right move. The last thing you want to be in the undercity is indebted, and you’ve made yourself just that. Alastair may not care, but his boss undoubtedly will. It’s too late now. Whatever problems arise from this, you will deal with it later. But for now, you need that Shimmer in your system. 

By the time you finally reach your mom’s house, you’re practically coughing your lungs out. You barge inside, bracing one hand against the wall as you kick off your boots unceremoniously, rushing straight to the bathroom. You take off your top and try to calm your breathing as much as possible. Better to have steady hands when manipulating the chem-surge.

Watching your reflection in the mirror to guide your movements, you unscrew the bolts on the glass panel covering your chest. You lift it up slightly to unplug the empty vial inside, throw it away before quickly replacing it with a fresh one.

"You alright in there?" Your mom asks from behind the door, an unusual hint of concern in her voice.

"I’ll just be a minute."

The vial clicks into place with a soft pop, and instantly, the purple liquid begins flowing through the tubes beneath the glass, like liquid amethyst—rich and luminous. You’ve always found it quite beautiful, the way it snakes its way through, almost hypnotic, rippling and twisting as if it were alive. Such a double-edged gift, Shimmer. Lethal if mishandled, but for you, it’s salvation. For all the bad the it’s done in the undercity the engineer behind this invention must have had life in mind when they concocted it. They must have—there’s no other way. What a waste. 

The effects are immediate, like a shot of adrenaline right through your heart. A long sigh escapes your lips as proper air finally fills your lungs. That was a much closer call than you intended, and you vow not to let it happen again. Now that you can think clearly, priorities shift in your brain—you need a drink. But first things first, you help your mom with her injection, grab something to eat from the kitchen counter, and you’re on your way again.

There’s a message waiting for you at your preferred scrap workshop. You retrieve it from the pneumatic tube and head towards Laurelle’s. You and her go way back. When her folks owned the place, your family used to visit frequently after working the mines. When Laurelle’s parents retired, they handed her the keys to the bar, and so she is now the proud owner of the Nook. It’s a very small and low key establishment, nothing like the Last Drop, which is why you like it so much. The moment you walk in, she spots you from behind the counter. 

"My my, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes." She exclaims, pulling out a glass for you. "What can I get you?" 

"Pitfire Punch." You say proudly, and Laurels’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You usually go for soft drinks. 

"What are we celebrating?" She asks enthusiastically. You check the seal on the letter you just retrieved just to be sure. Yep, Council sigil. No doubt now.

"My promotion, I recon." You say, dangling the paper above your head.

"Ah! I know your mom must be delighted." Laurelle scoffs, sliding your drink across the table.

"Haven’t told her yet. Thanks."

"How about this, just leave the letter on the hall counter and say nothing. Just wait and see."

"I’ve done her enough harm as it is, I think." You say ironically, but as always, Laurelle comes out to slap you on the wrist.

"Hey, you’re doing the best you can, just like the rest of us. Working the mines wasn’t going to pay for your treatment, or hers. Or any other job down here, for that matter. People can say what they want, but I know where your heart is, girl, despite that uniform. You don’t have to apologise for shit."

You lift your glass in thanks and drink it swiftly. Laurelle has always been gracious about your life choices. She supported you when you started your training, offered you a home while you were shopping for your own, and she never fails to cheer you up when you’re in doubt. A true friend without whom you would certainly have given up long ago. You owe her your life, in more ways than one. 

"Who’s your date?" You tilt your head questioningly, and Laurelle discreetly points somewhere behind you. "That absolute unit of a woman hasn’t taken her eyes off you ever since she walked in." You shift on your stool slowly and curse under your breath. Sevika sits at a lonely table, taking a long drag off her cigarette, her eyes fixed on you. She doesn’t seem alarmed that you have spotted her; quite the contrary, in fact.  

"Want me to send her away?" Laurelle asks, looking about ready to literally kick her ass out through the front door. You quickly put a hand over hers.

"No I—she’s good." Laurelle gawks at you, shrugs, and goes back to drying her glasses and bottles. 

You wonder how long Sevika’s been tailing you, if she already knows where you live, if she followed you all the way down to the Fissures. Not that she wouldn’t have figured it all out eventually, but damn, Silco sure doesn’t waste any time. The fact that Laurelle was able to clock her so easily is no coincidence. Sevika’s not in plain sight, but she’s not exactly hiding either—a gentle reminder that you still have to honour your end of the bargain. 

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

Taglist: @nerds4life246 @policedeer @burgerwolf74

Chapter 1 ⎜ Chapter 2 ⎜ Chapter 3 ⎜ Chapter 4 ⎜ Chapter 5

[ajastu]

thinkin about...how much i appreciate the way that talking about death and grief was handled in veilguard. I've been thinking about this topic a lot for the last several years bcs of...many reasons. So it was nice to see.

I guess maybe the best way i could put it into words is...Veilguard did not present grief/loss as purely a tragedy, but also as a part of life? the worst happens, and it might feel world-ending, but you will still need to get up the next morning and eat breakfast, you know? the unrelenting flow of time can be both a comfort and a pain, but no matter what it is in the moment, the fact remains that life Does Not Stop. And we have to deal with that somehow.

i guess one important distinction here. There is a difference between personal loss and like. A massive tragedy. I'm mainly talking about personal loss here, because the two are kind of different topics (that the game addressed differently, also, but this isnt about that right now)

Before i talk about the like, companion questlines, a very brief aside to the environmental design. Admittedly, i havent rly gone looking around the maps for the making of this post specifically, so it won't be too involved, but like. Arlathan, man. Loss and tragedy is etched over every part of it. the ruins, yes, but also...the tree people. At first glance, it is a sunny, beautiful location. And it is! It is also full of little stories of loss and desperation and everyday lives cut unexpectedly short. And you see it the moment you stop and look at it. It is easy to run through without paying much mind to it, but once you notice it you can't really unsee it. And it is still so beautiful and sunny. It's something i liked about the first Dishonored game, too, the juxtaposition of the environment with the tragedy. The sky is blue and the sun is shining when Corvo escapes Coldridge. etc.

Grief will find you again on a nice summer's day. You know?

You can't untangle it from the joys of life. And that isn't necessarily a bad thing, it's just...neutral. That's just how it works.

One of the ways people deal with grief is through rituals to remember the dead. Funerals, tending of graves, etc etc. I think Emmrich's quests touch on that in a very nice way.

What i appreciate about that is, like...some people tend to have a fear and aversion to topics related to death. But these quests present it all in such a mundane manner. And you get the option to treat it as such, too. Of course, there is the option to freak out, also, but i'll admit i never checked that one out.

I think part of processing grief is accepting it. And it might mean many different things to many different people, but for me personally those funerary rituals, both big and small, become a first step. And it won't stop being painful, but life does not stop either. You have to choose to live it, eventually. But when you're afraid of taking that first step, well. The grief might just eat you alive.

Every creature's existence brings along with it the death of something else, whether intentional or not. Death is as much a part of life as breathing is, and so getting somewhat comfortable with the concept will help soften the blow whenever it comes. Because it will come.

Funny thing happened while i was playing the game for the first time. I got spoiled about Manfred dying, and when i found that out, i was like. OH NOOO not Manfred....im definitely 100% reviving him.

And then i actually got there, and...the game prepares you so beautifully for acceptance of personal loss. Of course, there is the bias of Ive Been Thinking About This Exact Thing For Years, but still. It felt more...right? to let Manfred go. It still took me a while to decide what to choose, but the fact remains that i had to really sit there and think about it, even though i thought i have already made up my mind.

And just...the whole Cyrian funeral bit. Oh my god. That was so beautifully done. Bellara's story in general was something i really appreciated, but that part was especially hard-hitting for me. Yes i cried. Life goes on.

I feel like it touches some more on the importance of processing the grief, so that you can remember those you lost with fondness and joy instead of just pain. Again, you can't untangle the two, but you can find balance, eventually. Facing that loss instead of running from it...it helps.

And this bit the game itself said in a way i do not think i need to paraphrase:

Death, loss, grief...all of that is difficult. It is also a part of life. And the thing is, life goes on!! I'm not saying that in a "get over it" way. I am saying that in a. ''Holy shit why are things happening'' way. I'm going through this paralyzing grief and life just keeps on happening. And you have to adapt to it, you know? You stop thinking about it constantly, in time. You find joy with the living. But grief will still find you on a nice sunny day...

I don't know. I'm probably not saying everything i wanted to, but it's kind of hard to keep my thoughts in order (plus, this post was a spontaneous decision n im too lazy to go thru the whole game for more examples).

But i guess the main thing i wanted to say is. I appreciate that the game gives you space to sit with it. To think about it. To come to terms with it, even, maybe. DATV did a wonderful job with handling this topic.

It is also tied into the main plot in ways that other people have talked about already. But yeah. The only thing i missed was the lack of a "let the bugs eat me" dialogue option when Emmrich asks Rook what they'd like to be done with their body after they die, but i guess we cant have it all dlkgjdfg

I'm just gonna conclude this with my all-time favorite screenshot from Disco Elysium

[elusivemusings]

Caleb and Older! M/C HCs

What if MC was the older between the two ? How would that affect the dynamic ?

This is all over the place but hope people enjoy ? I also haven't read of his Myths, so forgive me if there's odd details.

Fem!MC x Caleb

Childhood : Squabbles and Assert for Dominance?

It was a thorn in Caleb's side since childhood: He wanted to be the bigger, older protective brother after meeting MC but came to find out that she was actually older than him.

I feel like even as young as he was, he had the deep desire to be the stronger protector. He may have not realized what the emotions are or why, but they were there.

He was startled hearing this small girl quietly ask him to call her "big sister" (jiejie/noona/oneechan).

He thought she was joking until Grandma confirmed it.

It didn't stop him from trying though. And MC would always butt heads with him on it.

"I'm the older one, let me do it!" "Nuh-uh, you're still a shrimp, so I should do it!"

MC was smaller and shorter for a little bit but as they both grew, they probably were the same height and build for a little bit, which made their spats even more dumb honestly.

"You can't use the excuse I'm smaller now! We are the same height!" "Nuh-uh and plus....you're a girl, girls shouldn't do this!" "CALEB YOURE SO STUPID."

Caleb is indeed really stupid because he can't use words and this would result in them fighting involving fists too. The house did not know peace.

They still care and love one another obviously.

Despite the squabbles they're connected at the hip, almost doing everything together. Natural is the definition of the interactions.

MC probably took the role of older sibling very seriously though and fretted over Caleb when he came back home in scratches and fights.

MC would have a med kit ready to help treat things and would gently scold him for dumb behavior while treating him.

He would honestly probably realize his crush on MC at one of these points because he's just embarrassed to be seen like a wimp and doesn't like being treated like a younger brother by her.

But he doesn't complain because even though he wouldn't admit it openly, he likes the physical contact with MC.

He'll suck up being treated like the younger brother a little bit just because he likes her touching his face gently, putting a bandaid on his arm, and holding his hand guiding him around.

Yes, even as a kid he knew.

He would go to MC several times in the middle of the night with the notion he had a nightmare and didn't want to sleep alone.

So MC would let him share the bed. She would quickly drift to sleep while hugging him, but he would be wide awake listening to her breathing and holding her tightly.

During those moments he would come up with a new dream:He would do everything he can to become bigger, better, and stronger and make MC see him differently.

Teenage Years: Growth Spurts, Comedy and Fantasies

Caleb is absolutely delighted when he realizes he's outgrowing MC height wise.

She's exasperated as he takes every opportunity to straighten his back to just make himself a little bit taller next to MC.

She thinks he's doing it to intentionally get a rise out of her, which, he is but also he's realizing he can start on working on his secret dream.

This is how the Pipsqueak nickname probably started LOL.

She still insists on being treated with respect but he ignores it conveniently.

MC is tragically baby faced and would not grow as rapidly or as tall as Caleb, tragically, and to her own internal exasperation.

The pain in her soul and the pride in his when they go to the store and assume HE'S the older brother.

"Now remember, little miss, eat your vegetables and you'll grow as tall as your older brother there." "......thank you."

MC would probably make him squat down so she could ruffle his hair.

She tries very hard to compensate and would start becoming more fiercely independent and self reliant as a result. (Which would lead to the habits of MC we know as an adult).

She would find her own way to learn to be a better older sibling and learn to stand more on her own, not going to Caleb's side as much.

While Caleb would be silently disappointed by less time with each other, he would take the opportunity to become a more proper "man" at least in his weird mind. (getting better at cooking, being more physically active to build a stronger physique, etc.)

She would think he's rubbing in how much better he is at everything when in reality he's trying to show her how dependable and reliable he is.

It's a bit of a one side prickly relationship as MC misinterprets the hell out of everything Caleb is trying to prove LOL.

Caleb's emotions are going into overdrive at this point: the protective obsessive instinct is going insane, the more he outgrows MC and he notices their difference in build, the more he realizes he just wants to protect her and shield her from the world.

He throws all notion of family out of the window but he keeps up the pretense to not rock the boat and not scare away MC.

Every physical contact, interaction, affection would burn this man's skin though. He is STARVED but is hiding it.

He would play the younger sibling card to see how far he could go though. It is comically terrible.

"MC-, I need help getting to bed." "Caleb, you are like pure muscle, not even sick, and a whole whopping 6', HOW WOULD I GET YOU TO BED." "Oh no, gravity is pushing me down." "CALEB YOUR EVOL IS GRAVITY MANIPULATION, YOURE SO FULL OF IT"

During more quiet moments, Caleb probably would lean into MC literally. Like, if they were on the couch, he would lean his head onto her shoulder no matter how gangly and awkward it is for him.

MC would gently pat his head and he would stay forever if he could.

Of course, MC is starting to grow herself and is blossoming into a lovely young woman. And it just intensifies Caleb's emotions and realizations of his feelings for MC.

Other girls? What's that, Caleb can't see any other girl but MC, who occupies his mind a little more than just a little bit.

HYPOTHETICALLY the type that if he has a date, and MC called, he'd drop everything to go see/help MC.

(Bold of y'all to assume he got a date to begin with. Why go on a date when he could be at home and have dinner with his precious MC?)

This boy was peak delulu and honestly fantasized domestic situations seeing MC standing in the kitchen trying to learn to cook or helping Grandma cleanup.

All while he's still trying play house and the appropriate role that was crafted while pushing the boundaries honestly.

Hormones are a nightmare. Innocuous touches and contact makes him go insane. One time MC leaned over him to grab something and he could just feel his body heat up for the rest of the day.

Adult Years : Fragile Reckoning

Caleb is forced to reckon with the fact they're adults and he can't keep pretending they're kids or go back to the good old days y'know ?

Lord knows he's clinging onto it though. It's the only really nice thing in his life honestly. :(

He's literally so exhausted in his quest to build the perfect life for him and MC and he still is trying so hard to be seen as reliable and strong.

It's really this time MC finally can step in and show him the reality of things.

"Caleb. Enough. We are going home."

"Home.......it's not ready yet. There's still so much that needs to be done."

"CALEB. WE ARE GOING H O M E. We have lost so much time as it is. Are you seriously going to keep missing out on life and time with one another for your stupid idealistic bullshit ???? ......We can't go home.....but we can make a new one, as long as we are alive and together, there is always home for the both of us."

And it's really now he kind of looks at the situation, he looks at MC not as someone he needs to protect but someone he can really finally just lean on.

Somewhere along the way his innocent wish morphed into something more insidious in nature, the more desperate he was to cling to the one good thing in his life after everything he subjected himself to for the sake of his ideal.

In that moment, he flashbacks to all their childhood memories, from first seeing her, bickering, fighting and laughing with her. He remembers fondly their childhood innocence and laughter, the crinkle of her eyes, the excitement in them, the fond and reassuring gestures she gave him, how she called his name when she gently would pat his head, how she held him in the small moments he finally admitted he was scared.

And then he finally sees her. The woman he loved for all these years, her eyes a bit worn, with dark circles, a bit aged but full of life and concern for him just the same as they were children.

And he just......collapses. He's overcome with so many emotions. He just wants to go home. He wants to be held and comforted by the person he loves the most. He's the one who really wants and needs the quiet home away from everything again.

Life sure became more complicated as they became adults. It started so sincere but by the time he realized he took off more than he could chew, it was too late for him.

MC knew she was gambling with a fragile man's mental state and practically melts and sighs in relief when he finally decides to let down his barrier and trust her.

She holds him tightly, silently reassuring the man she was real and there. She buries her face into his shoulder as he grips her tightly, silent sobs overcoming him.

They don't know what's in store for them, but they at least remember they have their home again.

[ennn]

I expect Billy is going to be an antagonist for a while and that's OK

Anti's for either Agatha or Billy are probably going to get more intense as I predict our boy Billy's gonna be antagonistic for a bit. And let's be clear, I'm not hating, or saying either are evil, or in the wrong.

That's way too simple a take for this show. In the words of showrunner Jac Schaeffer:

...we populated the show with similarly flawed individuals who are also selfish and self-serving, who are self-sabotaging, who are constantly standing in their own way. And then they were just in conflict.  Everybody is kind of an anti-hero in the show. That was really fun and felt very truthful there. 

No one here is meant to be a pure "good guy", which is I think kind of Billy's arc -- but more on that later.

And when I mean antagonist I'm talking about the characters roles in the story. An antagonist isn't necessarily a villain. Agatha is the show's protagonist as well as its main antagonist: as much as she claims she wants only power, deep down she wants a coven, a community, a family. But she is as Schaeffer puts it, "in the way of her own thing."

Billy being an antagonist simply means that his goals – or some of them at least – conflict with Agatha's. Rio has been described as a "romantic antagonist" as well because some of her goals are also in conflict.

Long text speculation post and mild promo spoilers under the cut:

Let's first get this out of the way: Why do I think Billy's going to take on an antagonist role? Aside from well, all the things that happened at the end of Episode 5, there's some clues Billy's not all who he's been saying he is:

There's a promotional video with audio lines, and you can hear Billy saying things like "Agatha Harkness can never be anything but a covenless witch" and "I do not trust you".

Billy claiming to be "obsessed" about Agatha and her biggest fan and going on the road for power should know that she is the world's most notorious witch-killer – why is he appalled about her killing and so against it? And if episode 5 is any indication, power is not what he's lacking.

Joe and Schaeffer have mentioned that Billy will be different in the back half of episodes.

A quick clip from a trailer has Agatha (covered in mud) telling Billy "Last one there is a nice person", implying that Billy at this point doesn't want to be nice. I assume, at this point, he wants Agatha to pay for her misdeeds. The yellow tint of the clip also matches with the current Road area they're on.

Now at this point I do not know if Billy was involved in what I believe is a fake trial in episode 5. I'm inclined to think it's the Salem Seven, and we get this truth of Billy as fallout. I believe he definitely didn't want Alice dead.

Now for reasons why I think it'll be okay–even interesting–to have these two in conflict and everyone should put away their pitchfolks:

They are going to come to an understanding

You know how in Hawkeye series Yelena wants to kill Barton because she blames him for Natasha's death? I think we'll get a broadly similar arc or vibe for Agatha and Billy here. And they will design it in a similarly emotionally satisfying manner.

Right now Billy's basically like everyone–including the rest of the coven–who believes that Agatha is truly what her reputation says. And that's not surprising! Agatha is masks and layers and theatrics and she's not opening up unless she absolutely has to.

It may take a few episodes but I expect we'll get that before the series end, with this sobering exchange we have from a trailer:

Why do you let them believe those things about you? Because the truth is too awful.

I don't think Billy will be the Big Bad simply because I expect at the end Agatha's going to have to choose between wanting her coven, her community of witches, and something else—power perhaps, or her son, and go back to her old ways.

And for that to happen Agatha will need to have formed enough bonds with her coven, including Billy, to make it a difficult choice.

Power, darkness, and anti-heroes

Look, Agatha is my babe and she definitely needs a win after all that awful that happened in episode 5, but if you think about it Billy being a lot like his mom is really interesting? More interesting than him just being a cute innocent fanboy.

Because if he is an anti-hero, with some darkness in him, it's an opportunity to explore some of the themes or ideas we touched on in Wandavision with Wanda and her power, and her sense of self.

Heroes don't torture people.

Agatha recognises the darkness in people, delights in it even: as touched on in interviews, it's one of the reasons why she saw herself as Detective Agnes in that spell, as an investigator exploring the darkest aspects of humanity. She's seen the worst in people, and knows how to play the villain.

For Billy to avoid making the same mistakes as his mom, he needs to understand not just his power, but his potential for darkness.

Power corrupts, and when you're born with that reality-warping level of power, it's dangerous. It's so tempting to make people do what you need them to. And it's a slippery slope once you start killing, even if it's for good reasons.

Agatha never wanted to kill her first coven, in that moment she only wanted to live. But she did, with a power she never asked for, that made it so easy to keep taking and taking.

It is kind of tragic given the circumstances that Agatha couldn't have been a mentor to Wanda at the end of Wandavision, given the events of Multiverse of Madness, because she made some valid points and they could have been a coven, given Agatha's deep-deep-buried desire for one.

And looking at all the mentor-kid pairings we've seen in the MCU so far (Parker and Stark, Clint and Bishop, Strange and Chavez, etc.), I don't think we've ever had this kind of dynamic.

Interesting power dynamics

I think Agatha is at her most interesting when she's on the back foot. As we've seen in episode one, she's not one to give up when physically outmatched, quite the opposite. She's a survivor, she's stubborn, and she's a performer.

Billy has been revealed to have the magical equivalent of a gun, and is capable of taking this entire coven hostage.

They're going to have to interact in new ways now. But now it's going to be more of a dance.

It's new danger, new complications, but also new ways to connect, and also the opportunity for a more honest relationship.

Knowledge, history, community

This point isn't specific only to Agatha and Billy but I'm reminded of Billy taking it out not just on Agatha but Lilia and Jen as well.

It's not surprising that Alice and Billy, the two youngest coven members are also the most idealistic and noble. The world has not been kind to witches over the centuries—Lilia's been chased out of villages for her visions, Jen has been attacked—and the older members of the group have done what they can to survive: How much can you blame them for being selfish in a cruel world?

Power isn't your problem, it's knowledge.

In this case I mean not just the knowledge of witchcraft, but lived experience as well.

Younger witches have to learn their community's history, and the older ones have to be challenged in their set ways of thinking, in how they've adapted, because they're not always good.

I wouldn't be surprised if there was an allegory to be made here to the queer community as well. Schaeffer has mentioned there is a large overlap between the history and persecution of witches and that of the LGBTQ community.

--

Good lord this post ran away from me. If you actually read all of that you do deserve a cookie.