#they still need time to adapt and a few things are new yeah but in its essence they got so close together during the last months

[knightzp]

hii👋🏻 it's the baker!ritsu anon :)

mao wouldn't be able to reply with anything immediately bc his mind is repeating ritsu saying "my maakun" over and over and he's Screaming inside bc it has a really nice ring to it so after a bit he ends up blurting out a "I like you. a lot. very much. can I take you out for dinner" and then ritsu blushes and it's his turn to stay quiet bc a straightforward maakun always makes him implode

hihiiiii anon!!!!!! mao internally screaming abt 'my maakun' yes pleaseeeee and then the way he blurts out to ritsu in the end is so CUTE 🥺🥺🥺 and ritsu ofc is not used to such a straighforward maakun and doesnt know how to react aldjskks so real yes yesss

they arrange a date in the end and when the day comes theyre both quite nervous until ritsu takes out some of his sweets that he had secretly brought with him for dessert and this is something familiar that theyve done tons of times so they fall back again in their usual dynamics and their nerves go away and they end up enjoying the rest of the day a lot!!! and they do go on more dates (they were already going on dates before but mao wouldnt recognize them as that) from then on but nothing much really changes apart from being more comfortable with affection and eventually making it official that theyre partners <33

[luulapants]

Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:

A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would

B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be

C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)

And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"

Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!

Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.

Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.

Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.

Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.

Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?

Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.

[reasonsforhope]

Climate change in 2025: So, what now?

Some real talk for the new year, about where we now stand, and what the next years are going to look like.

(Still ends on a “be hopeful!! or else” kind of note, but definitely gets into some heavy truths about the meaning of recent events.)

--

Obviously, between Trump's reelection at the Los Angeles fires, things are feeling a lot more precarious than they did just a few months ago. I know a lot of people are incredibly stressed. I know I'm certainly stressed.

But this isn't the end. This isn't the beginning of the end, either. We're not doomed.

Don't despair.

Yes, things are about to get harder. Yes, the effects of climate change are now becoming truly apparent.

But here's what you need to hold on to:

We have already cut expected warming in half.

More about that including sources here: (x) I'm not going to go into it again in detail, read the source for that. But it's true. In 2000, when I was a kid, they were predicting 4, 5, 6 degrees of warming, plus a runaway greenhouse effect that would boil the planet.

Now, scientists expect that global temperatures will likely land between 2 and 3 degrees.

Which is incredibly shitty, yes. But it's survivable.

And I have for a lot of reasons (check these masterposts on this) to believe with the confidence of knowing that we're going to get expected warming down even further.

And that's something to celebrate.

I’m not saying that the effects of warming aren’t already bad, or won’t get worse. I’m from California, I currently live in LA. My state’s been on fire for half my life. Natural disasters starting amping up early here (and we’re certainly in the middle of another historic number now). And yeah, it's fucking stressful right now.

But like I said, my state’s been breaking horrible disaster records constantly for the past ten years. I've done this before. And you know what? Natural disasters have been getting more and more survivable for years, largely thanks to faster warnings and better mass communication (x).

Does it suck how many natural disasters there are now? Yeah.

Does it suck how many more still there will be? Yeah.

Do we need to keep working our asses off to beat climate change? Yeah.

Are we going to need to organize and mobilize (both politically and especially community-wise) like never before to see as many people through these times as best as possible? Yeah.

But that doesn't mean we should despair. It absolutely does not mean that we've already lost.

An unknown number of the most optimistic futures were foreclosed when Trump won the US election. That’s painful but a reality.

But for twenty-ish of the past twenty-five years, the science said we weren’t going to survive climate change at all.

For most of my life, we were worried that we had set Earth on a course to become like fucking Venus (which is, on average, well over 800 degrees Farenheit). Even if it didn’t get that bad, we were so worried that global warming might wipe out all life on earth - except maybe the cockroaches.

(Literally, when I was a younger the kids at my church put on a play about that. It was like an adaptation of A Christmas Carol where the future only had talking cockroaches. I grew up so worried about this. (Not the cockroaches thing specifically. Mostly the general concept. Only a little about the cockroaches. Also yes my church was very granola why do you ask.))

But starting a few years ago, studies have shown that there wasn’t going to be a runaway greenhouse effect that could turn us into Venus; that earth is warming, yes, but we don’t seem to be in danger of that.

Between that and the fact that the adoption of renewables globally is too fast to be stopped, and we do have the technology and environmental science knowledge to eventually re-lower global temperatures by getting to net negative carbon emissions (x), and most countries and at least 73% of people in all countries for which there is data (x) actually care very much about the climate, yeah, we have closed the door on the lava planet future.

And yeah, I do think that’s worth celebrating.

That’s a massive fucking victory.

There's still more work to do, and I have every confidence that we're going to do it. I also think that, given the loss of the US election, there’s a really, really strong chance the developing world will be what saves us, and we’ll just be lucky to be along for the ride.

Most people have no idea of the kinds of amazing stories and statistics coming out of the developing world and Indigenous communities. The world is changing for the better on the environment, even as disasters (and the US) are getting worse. Solar power is going to revolutionize the fucking world, because it’s going to grant humanity universal access to electricity, and that’s going to revolutionize the world, especially the developing world (aka the global majority). And most people have no idea at all, much less how much it’s going to change.

So, yeah, natural disasters are going to keep getting worse.

But there’s a long, long long fucking way between “natural disasters are going to keep getting worse” and “the extinction of all of humanity and/or the vast majority of life on earth”

So, in the face of Trump, in the face of everything, I still choose to hope. I still choose to celebrate this as a true and profound accomplishment.

Because for over twenty years, I was afraid I’d never get to.

That difference is absolutely worth celebrating.

[your-nanas-house]

Cillian murphy x fem!reader

The reader's aunt is going to a honeymoon with her husband for two weeks, so she leaves her 10 months old baby with her niece and her boyfriend cillian

And cillian is INLOVE with that baby, and he keeps saying he wishes he could give you one until he tries to

Fluff and smut plss🥹

Sure thing!!! Sorry it took me so long 😭 very unique idea btw. 🙇🏼‍♀️

Baby fever

◇ Pairing: Cillian Murphy X girlfriend/fiancè!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut (Cillian cums too fast), mention of pregnancy and baby fever, babysitting, both off age, fluff

◇ Summary: You and Cillian babysit your baby cousin and your amazing boyfriend gets baby fever.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Shitty writing... sorry about that, I'm still trying to "get my mind back in the writing".

"I really wish for us to have one too" the so unexpected and sudden sentence left Cillian's lips a quiet evening.

You've been busy taking care of your cousin, since your so kind aunt left you to babysit him during her honeymoon. A baby, a 10 months and some weeks old baby, dropped in your care at your door with some begging and thanking.

It has been just some weeks since your not-paid job began, and ignoring the first days of struggling, you and your boyfriend, Cillian, took the new routine strangely well. Adapting well to the new schedules and cries and needs that a baby could have.

A few days and you both were smitten; that baby had you really wrapped around his little, chubby finger.... and he didn't even know it yet. Everything about babysitting made you wish for it to never end, even the random tantrums or the diaper moments.

You had been sitting on the sofa, your baby cousin asleep in his crib in the other room as you cuddled with Cillian. The TV off. You had been just enjoying your small moment of silence and intimacy when that sentence slipped from his lips:

"I really wish for us to have one too" your mind froze, slowly taking in every since word your boyfriend just said.

"I don't wanna rush things or put any pressure on you, love... but we've been together since years now and this weeks with your baby cousin made me realize how ready I am to take... any further steps in our relationship" he continued after a moment of silence, you could tell he was pondering about it carefully by the way his gaze remained focused on a spot and his eyebrows slightly raised

"Plus I might have what they call baby fever" he added in a weaker tone to lighten up the mood... and it worked. You didn't let him add anything else not wanting him to think you weren't on his same page

"I think so too... I mean we are about to get married and I just love you so much. Plus we don't know if it will work right away" you commented in a shy but earger voice, glancing at him as if it was your first time having sex... asking for it.

"Yeah?" Cillian asked after your answer, his light blue eyes finally looking at you with hope and love, making your heart skip a beat

"Yeah" you replied in a softer tone, taking his face in your hands to bring him in a needy kiss.

Soft noises of approval kept living your mouth as his soft lips trailed a path down your neck to your chest; his warm tongue draw shapes on your skin while his slender fingers in quick motions, finally, removed the layers of clothes.

"I love you" your eyes met as you caressed Cillian's pale and flushed skin up to his messy hair as soon as your kiss broke. Your breaths became one and your chests moved together, brushing against each other.

His cock was already painfully hard, resting against his stomach and leaking precum; it just needed a couple of strokes, and it got fully ready. His other hand worked your clit, his index finger explored your cunt, adding in no time another finger

"Yes, yes!" You whimpered out, your body shaking in pure pleasure.

The intimacy of the moment made it feel even more intense, forcing you to hold back moans, limiting them to heavy breaths and soft praises.

It felt so right and so good. You hoped it would never end.

Your mouth connected again, sharing the same passion; your hearts nearly beating in sync. You just needed one more thing.... his cock finally inside of you, stretching you out like only Cillian could do and bring you to feel— not exactly what you expected.

As your mind focused and dreamed about the imminent pleasure, it didn't register the warm feeling of his cum shooting in. It was just when his cock started to soften that you finally realized

"I'm so sorry, love. I was bit too excited—" Cillian voice interrupted the silence, his pale face flushed in embarrassment and bit of shame

".... I make it up to you" he added quickly while already trying to move down your body to finish you off with his tongue, but without succeeding since your legs had his hips caged in a iron grip

"Don't you dare move, Cilly. Stay inside... We can always try tomorrow and you can make it up then"

[saltandburnheathens]

Good morning Miss Winnie.

Part II

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Rating: Gen.

Summary:

You've just given birth to Dean's baby and are a enjoying a quiet family moment in the days afterwards.

Notes: Non-canon, no time line. And I don't ever want kids. But I just became an aunt and I sort of need to get this out of my system! Short and I'm not promising that I won't continue this. Who knows really. Finally this was written after I'd taken my usual nightly gummy.

The bunker was quiet first thing in the morning except for the usual hum of the circulation fans. You’d been there so long that they barely registered anymore, and you were extremely thankful that the consistent noise wasn’t a problem for the baby. That would have been a horror show. Trying to navigate parenthood with a baby awoken by the simplest of sounds.��

You shuddered at the thought. 

Life was always loud when you lived with Dean Winchester and his posse of colour characters. Between unexpected visitors and the brothers coming and going at odd hours, there was something new every day and often that new wasn’t good. 

But in that moment things were perfect. The monsters outside didn’t exist and you were a regular mom with a new baby and a husband who loved you. His bother Sam and best friend Castiel were an added bonus, the former serving as an unexpected asset when both you and Dean needed some rest.  

You crept carefully out of bed, your body still feeling weak, and quietly crossed to the crib by the wall. A set of hazel eyes stared up at you and your heart melted. 

“Good morning Miss Winnie.” You cooed, “Let’s get you up and at ‘em before you wake daddy.” 

You heard a small scoff followed by the shuffling of blankets. 

“Winnie?” Dean asked with a sleep-laden voice, “We ain’t calling her Winnie, sweetheart. I’ll accept those new-agey-hippy-names like Kendell and Kloe with a K before I’ll take Winnie.” 

“I’m just calling her that until we choose a name.” You laughed, lifting the little girl up into your arms, her head coming to rest on your chest, “And Winnie is short for Winchester in case you hadn’t pieced that together.” 

“I don’t care if it’s short for ‘daddy’s-little-angel’, it ain’t happening.” 

“I’ll cross that off my list then shall I?” You sat back on the bed, Dean coming up to nest beside you and his eyes immediately going to the baby in your arms. 

He smiled, creases forming at the corners of his eyes. 

“You’re not a Winnie, are ya’ princess?” In that voice he seemed to only have adapted five days ago after the birth of your daughter; that voice reserved for her. 

“Maybe not. What about Meghan?” You suggest. 

“Oh nope. No can do. Knew a Meg once. Demon.” 

You nodded knowingly. No one wanted to name their child after a monster. 

“Stevie?” Dean carried on, his eyes still fixed on the baby.

“Like Stevie Nicks?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m not seeing it. Samatha?”

“Already got one Sam in this bunker and that’s more than enough. Alice?”

“Can’t do it. All I’ll keep hearing is ‘who the fuck is Alice’, and I don’t want my kid to be subjected to that for the rest of their life.” 

You both laughed, interrupted only by the whine building in the little one’s chest. You quickly jumped to action and proceeded to the morning routine you’d been adjusting to since getting back home. Dean followed you, rubbing at his eyes. 

“I don’t think I’ve had hangovers that made me feel quite as bad as waking up five times at night.” He yawned. 

You handed him a dirty diaper and smiled as he grimaced. 

“You can go back to bed if you want. I can manage by myself.” 

“Sweetheart, you just damn near broke your pelvis giving birth to my kid a few days ago. I’m in this from start to finish, and if that means running on caffeine and a prayer, then I’m game. Even for the diapers.” 

Dean rummaged through the first drawer of their dresser and pulled out a small onesie covered in colourful dinosaurs. He held it up in front of him and smiled. 

“It’s hard to believe how small she is, huh?”

“She didn’t feel so small coming out of me.” You quipped, taking the clothing from him to finally cover the squirming child on the changer, “I’m pretty sure my vagina will never be the same.” 

“That’s blasphemy.” Dean gasped playfully, “But seriously, baby, the doctor said that it’ll take a few weeks before you start to feel normal.” 

“Normal is subjective when you’re postpartum.” 

Holding his baby tight to his chest, Dean lent down and kissed you softly on the lips. His green eyes fluttered up to meet yours. 

“Let’s face it, ain’t nothing normal about either of us in the first place.” 

[badkitty3000]

Do you have any head cannons of five as a dad? Like just any head cannons how he would behave but also like how that would change him being in the bedroom (like stamina, pace, etc…)!

Yeah, I might have a few *proceeds to furiously write 1.7k words*

I love writing Five as a dad! He's such a strong character that loves his family, so I can see him being a very hands-on, engaged father. I like to think that throughout most of his life he never would have thought having a family of his own would ever be possible, so that if he did become a dad, it would be the best feeling for him. He would want to give his kid everything he never had, which is a solid family life, and unconditional love. 😭❤️

Warnings: A little mention of sex under "pregnancy" and then the very end section labeled "sex" is smut and sappiness

Five Dad Headcanons

Pregnancy: Five is going to be over the moon excited when he learns you are pregnant with his child. Then, he’s going to become the most annoying person on the planet. He will remind you daily to take your vitamins and make sure you eat healthy and remain active. He will be the one reading all of the pregnancy and parenting books, glancing up every so often to tell you some fact he’s just learned and then making a little note in the margin to refer back to at a later time. He will go out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable and safe, to the point of going overboard and insisting he go with you everywhere. What if you go into premature labor at the grocery store and he’s not there? He better go along. Same goes with all doctor’s appointments. He needs a chance to ask the doctor about a few of his concerns that he read about in the most recent 'OBGYN Journal' article. Your car will be equipped with the safest damn car seat money can buy, and will be installed during your first trimester. Just in case. And if you think this is getting you off the hook when it comes to his insatiable sexual appetite, think again. You are even sexier while pregnant, so be prepared to learn some fun new positions. It’s actually very good for the baby! Trust him, he read all about it.

Newborns: Five actually loves the newborn stage. He can’t resist a good stress-project and thrives on no sleep and caffeine. He’s more than happy to let you sleep in while he gets up to take care of the baby and you’ll often find him passed out on the couch with the baby asleep on his chest. Babies are easy. They’re small, have basic needs, and can’t talk back or walk yet. He’ll adapt to fatherhood right away, and he’s not sure why people make such a big deal out of it; it’s not that hard.

Toddlers: Ok, maybe kids aren’t so easy after all. Why are they so loud? And irritating? And sticky all of the time? He loves his child more than anything in the world, but damn…he is old and tired; can he get five minutes of quiet, please? And what is with these absolutely idiotic kids' shows he is forced to watch? This is why the human population is getting dumber! Make no mistake, he will still be the doting father and take them to the park, read them books at bedtime, and play their little make believe games like tea party or dragon hunters. He loves hearing them laugh and his heart will melt when he feels their little hand in his or he gets a sloppy kiss on the mouth. When they fall asleep in the car, he’ll carry them to bed and stare lovingly down at their little sleeping face while he thinks how lucky he is to be their dad. Until he finds wet Play-doh smashed into the pocket of his favorite suit coat and he starts to reconsider a few things.

Hardship stories: Five’s kid will never be able to complain about anything in life without immediately getting an “I had it worse” story. Parents love to tell their kids how bad they had it growing up, so just imagine the jackpot of childhood trauma stories Five would bestow upon his child. He does not want them to suffer in any way, or get seriously hurt, but if they come home with a scraped knee after falling off their bike, he’s going to have a real hard time being sympathetic. “You know, when I was ten, I broke my tibia in two places and suffered a concussion after defeating an armed man twice my size, and I still had to show up on time for training the next day.” When your teenager is complaining about having to do chores around the house, there will be no end to the list of apocalyptic hardship stories. “Oh, you think mowing the lawn is hard? Do you know what I was doing at your age? Dragging all my shitty things in a rusted-out wagon across a barren landscape under the blazing hot sun looking for water after eating nothing but a can of rotten pears and one very scrawny cockroach. But please…go on.”

Powers: If it turns out that his kid has powers like his, Five would be so happy! He has a little mini-me that he can teach to blink and nerd out with about the physics required to do so! Then he’s going to get scared. What if they accidentally blink themselves into oncoming traffic? Or they try to time travel like he did and get stuck somewhere? His fear is going to bring out some of the worst in him; coming up with strict rules and insisting on constant practicing to make sure no accidents occur. This leads to some major butting of heads between the two of them. That’s where you come in to remind Five that he is not Reginald and he needs to stop acting like it before he destroys his relationship with his own child. Once you make him see that he needs to back off a little, things get a lot better and the two end up forming a strong bond over their powers

School: Five, overall, has no real use for school. Not that he doesn’t want his child to do well academically, because he does. Especially in high school, if their grades started slipping, he would definitely be up their ass about it. But school as an institution in general? Not interested. You won’t be seeing Five at a PTO meeting or volunteering to bring in snacks for a class holiday party. If his child gets in trouble for something minor and the school calls him about it, that’s probably the last time they are going to do that. “Let me get this straight…you called me in the middle of my day to tell me my kid said the f-word in class? Well, here’s a thought. How about you just do your fucking job and don’t fucking call me again unless someone is fucking bleeding or dead? We good here? Great.”

Proud Dad: Five would be so proud of everything his child did and he would tell them so all the time. But he would try and tone it down so he didn’t look so eager to brag about them to everyone he sees. When they are little, he’ll casually point out the picture of a house that is hanging on the refrigerator to anyone that comes over. “See that? Pretty good for six, don’t you think? I mean, I’m not saying it’s a DaVinci or anything, but it’s good right?” If they play sports, he’ll be at every game, but he’s not going to be the screaming, cheering parent in the stands. He’ll be watching everything very carefully, studying all of the players on the opposing team and learning their weaknesses to coach your child on it later. If the ref makes a bad call, though, he’ll be the first one to jump up screaming “Are you kidding me? What are you, blind? That was clearly a foul!” and then mumbling “Fucking idiot” as he sits back down again. At their high school and college graduations, he’ll let his siblings be the loud, whistling, embarrassing people in the crowd as his kid crosses the stage to get their diploma. Five will be standing silently, beaming with pride and trying not to cry (unsuccessfully). 

Sex: Sex after parenthood is different, there’s just no getting around it. In the beginning, you’re both so exhausted that it’s not exactly the hours-long fuck-fests you used to be able to pull off in the past. It’s still good, but it’s straight and to the point so you can get on with your lives or get some much needed sleep. After a while, though, you figure it out again. Five prefers to bang you hard and loudly, but now that’s not an option with little ears in the house. So, he settles on teasing you, instead. “Good girl, staying quiet for me” he’ll whisper with that arrogant smirk while he slams his cock into you with as much force as possible without letting the headboard hit the wall. He’ll get off on the fact that you want to cry out so badly that you’re biting at your lip and digging your nails into his skin. He wants to hear you gasping for air while you bury your face in his shoulder to muffle your moans. Maybe his stamina won’t always be as good as it once was, but that’s usually because he’s frequently getting cock-blocked by his own kid. When he can finally get some, it’s been a while and he’s not exactly performing at the peak of perfection. You better watch out when you have an evening alone, though. Five will happily ship your child off to one of his siblings for the night to get some one-on-one time with you. Now you can be as loud and dirty as you want, and he is going to take full advantage of that. Be prepared to get zero sleep, because Five is going to make up for some lost time. He won’t even wait a full minute after you’re alone before he’s slamming you up against a wall, flattening your body with his and kissing you roughly, or pulling you on top of his lap; his hard-on already straining against his pants while he desperately tries to strip your clothes off. He’s going to fuck you as hard and as long as possible, doing everything he can to make you lose your mind and come all over his cock while moaning his name. Calling him Daddy in the sack might be a little weird at first, but you’ll get past it eventually because he’s never going to get tired of hearing that, and Five is undoubtedly the hottest Daddy in and out of the bedroom. After he’s completely ruined you, he’s going to fuck you softly and sweetly, telling you how much he loves you, because sometimes he misses having you all to himself. Before you fall asleep in his arms, he’ll tell you how happy he is and thank you for making him a father and giving him the life he never dreamed possible  

If you feel like reading more about Five becoming a sexy family man with an eventual wife and son, check out my Halo series on AO3. 🥰

[scekrex]

Hey absolutely love your stuff (obviously since I keep requesting lol) anyways could I request Adam who somehow survived after getting beaten up by Lucifer and stabbed who even knows how many times by Niffty gets found by the reader who while an overlord isn't that powerful is super rich (I also picture them being like a mix of Alastor and Vox where like Alastor still holds a lot of more old timey views but also tries to adapt with the changing views like Vox) and decides to take him back to his mansion to try and help him survive (wants to make a few bucks later using him) after a bit the two share an oh fuck moment when they realized they have caught feelings. I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

Overlord reader?? Uh fuck yeah!! I fucking love this ask so much xoxo/p

Bird of Hell's Paradise

Chains on my lips just add flames to the fire

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language & sexual tension

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

The battlefield was a mess through and through and while the devil and his daughter had built up the hotel again, a new, more inviting looking building was now located on the lonely hill in the pride ring, you still felt Adam's presence. The residents of the hazbin hotel must've already forgotten about him and therefore didn't notice you at all, too caught up in their doing.

The first man was badly injured and while you normally wouldn't care for such things, especially because it was an exorcist angel, this case was special. Because not only was the brunette laying in front of your feet the first man god had ever created, no, he was also the leader of said exorcists. You could only imagine how many sinners and Hellborn people would pay a good amount of money to harm him, even if it was just the slightest injury possible. So you bowed down and scooped the passed out man in your arms. If these sinners and even Lucifer didn't care for him, you would put him to good use. For your own benefit that was, but no one had to know about that yet. So you carried the first man across the entire pride ring of hell until you reached your home. The brunette man in your arms was still unconscious and given the blood he had lost and the hits he had taken that was pretty normal.

Once inside your mansion, you headed to the hospital wing, walking through the building with slow, heavy steps that echoed through the empty hallways. The hospital wing was close to the entrance, a decision you had made after stumbling through the doors with a fatal wound that had been exposing your guts. It was quicker to reach in an emergency and while those rarely occurred, you didn't like the risk. You put the first man down onto one of the beds, your claw sliced smoothly through the fabric of his once holy robe to get it out of the way. You needed to take care of the stab wounds the nifty little demon girl had caused. The stabs were deep but nothing you couldn't fix. You gave Adam one last glance before you stepped over to the medicine cabinet and for a quick moment you asked yourself why Lilith and Eve had left Adam, he wasn't bad looking at all, quite the opposite. And Lucifer had mentioned that Adam had ‘kinda let himself go’ which meant back when the two women were married to him, he must have looked even better. You quickly shook your head, what in the devil's name were you even thinking?

With wound cleaning supplies and a healing potion you stepped back to Adam's bed, the first human ever seemed to be slowly waking up. He braced his palms against the mattress, tried to lift himself up but you were quick to push him back down, the more he moved while his wounds were still ripped open the more blood he lost. And while Adam would be able to recover either way, the more blood stayed inside of his body, the better. At least that's what you thought. “Stay,” you hummed as you cleaned the blood from his skin. It was unusual to clean off golden blood instead of the red mess you were so used to. But you didn't mind, didn't care even.

Adam flinched away from your touch, tried to lift himself up yet again. Your hand took a hold of his throat and held him down by it, “I said stay, stupid angel.” Adam's eyes seemed to clear up a little, the fog that had covered his golden eyes, had made them seem yellow, lifted and the brunette stared at you, clearly not knowing what to feel. You saw anger in his eyes, rage and hatred but at the same time there was fear. Fear and pain.

Once the blood was no longer staining his perfect skin, you took the potion you had grabbed, popped the cork and held the smooth, cold glass against his bottom lip, “Open up,” you demanded, yet your voice stayed gentle. Adam hesitated and you really couldn't blame him. “It will cause your wounds to heal,” you explained to the former leader of the exorcists and he seemed to consider his opinions for a moment. Then he actually parted his lips and let you spill the disgusting liquid onto his tongue. His face scrunched up at the bitter taste and he kept the liquid in his mouth. “Swallow it, Adam.” Adam looked up at you, once again seemingly considering alternatives he had. Given the fact that he did as you told him, there hadn't been many.

Adam checked his chest as the wounds that had caused enough pain to make him pass out healed quickly. The only hint left that they ever even existed were golden scars that seemed to be permanent from now on, but the first man couldn't complain, could he? He was still alive and on top of that there was no more pain. The first man frowned at you, mistrust was lingering heavy in his eyes as golden orbs followed your every move. Yet he remained silent, not a single word was falling from his lips.

Your hand that had been holding him down by his throat let go of him and Adam was sitting up right in his bed in an instant. His hands traced over the new found scars, you watched him in silence. There was something about him, about his vibe that was different. It wasn't the fact that he was an angel, no, even though that made his vibe different too, but it was something soft, something afraid to break. You cleared your throat loudly and Adam's eyes were on you within a heartbeat, while mistrust still lingered heavy in them, curiosity was close behind and you couldn't help but catch yourself that you were curious about him too.

-

Adam always bragged about being the first man, like that was his biggest accomplishment and if you looked at it from a different viewpoint it wasn't even his accomplishment but God’s, Adam didn't create himself after all. Yet it was the only thing worth mentioning whenever he didn't want to do something, “I’m the fucking man, not your fucking housewife, I'm not gonna fucking clean that.” You sighed as you took a step towards Adam and he flinched, trying to back up but his back hit the kitchen counter sooner than expected. Your hands grabbed a hold of his waist and you effortlessly lifted him up to sit on said counter, Adam was taken aback by that.

It had been a couple of weeks since you had found and saved him and the mistrust that had been filling his eyes from the first second on had never truly left them. He would always leash out on you only to back down as soon as you reacted in some way that seemed too unpredictable for him. “When will you learn to think before you speak?” Your voice held a certain amount of softness, it always did when you were speaking to Adam. The guy wasn't a threat to you, not in his current situation. And you were trying to use that to your advantage. Because he was scared, basically a deer in the headlights, why not put that fear to use? You nudged his knees apart to stand between his legs, still taller than him you hovered over the first man with a mix between a sly grin and a soft smile. “When you start to suck my fucking dick,” you chuckled as his choice of words, very aware that he simply wanted you to fuck off and leave him be, you acted oblivious to that. One hand was placed on the counter to steady yourself, right next to his thigh, the other grabbed his chin to tilt his head upwards, forcing the brunette to look you in the eyes.

“Right now? Right here?” your voice sounded so delicious, Adam wanted to eat it up, in fact, he wanted to devour you entirely, feast on every piece you had to offer and only stop once he swallowed it all. In Christ's holy name, what was he thinking? Your lips were so close to his, so so close, all he would need to do was - he leaned into your touch, why he wasn't sure, it was as if his body was following a call sent to him by nature itself. And then his lips met yours and a low groan spilled from his throat as his hands grabbed your shoulder firmly, he was afraid you'd pull back, that you'd leave him like Lilith and Eve had and he didn't even know why. Why was he afraid of losing you, a sinner, a man he barely knew? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. And yet he kissed you like his life was depending on it.

The hand that had been braced against the counter was now on his thigh, squeezing the soft flesh playfully and drawing a delicious sound from Adam's lips. Oh you could drown in the noises the first man made, the little huffs and puffs, his groans that he tried to keep as quiet as possible, the whimpers he would later deny. Adam was the most beautiful creature that had ever set a foot into hell and you mentally punched yourself in the face for wanting to use him to make money. There was no way you'd use such a divine, holy and glorious man for that, no. Adam was yours, your little secret and you'd keep it, keep him.

When you two partened a sting of saliva connected your lips and both of your eyes were hazy, he looked blissed out and it was then that you decided you wanted to see him like that more often - as often as possible. You were to lean in yet again, wanting more, needing more. But your phone rang. “Pick it up, bet it's something fucking important, they don't fucking call overlords for shits and giggles, do they?” You knew Adam was right and you hated it. You pushed your body away from the first man's and you saw how he wanted to reach out, wanted to keep you close but didn't say a thing about it. You grabbed your phone off the dining table and answered the call, “The fuck do you want, Vox?” It was the first time Adam had heard you speaking so vulgarly, you usually seemed to be collected, considering your words wisely, but that? In the name of God, that was truly something else. And it was ridiculously hot. “No I fucking can't, ask someone else,” and with that you hung up, tossed your phone carelessly back onto the table and found your place between his legs yet again. “Where were we?” you hummed through hooded eyes. And it was only then that the two of you seemed to realize what exactly you had just done, what you were about to do again.

Both of your eyes widened and the next thing you felt were Adam's hands on your body, not just your shoulder this time but also your waist, your chest, your thighs, your back. It seemed as if he was claiming you with his hands and the worst part of it? You truly didn't mind, you even enjoyed his touch on you, leaned into it and closed your eyes to fully focus on his hands roaming over your body.

Fuck, you had fallen deep for this man, way deeper than you ever thought you'd fall. But Adam had followed you, had fallen with you.

“You were about to suck me off,” Adam mumbled, his voice already sounded fucked out and you hadn't even started yet.

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone Danny: Dan interlude 7.5

i'm writing this because im struggling to come up with the next part to the clone danny au. however I have had many thoughts about our resident evil man. So if anyone remembers part two of this au, I mentioned that I wanted to make Dan's circumstances a little different than canon, considering Danny's circumstances were different. I'm not sure where I got the idea that Dan wouldn't be inclined to destroy the world after his creation, but i'm sticking with it because I love to explore new things in aus. So 👏 DAN and i swear i might end up calling him a different name because ong i cant stand the name Dan

so. Dan. Dante? I like Dante. but i'll call him Dan for the time being. So: clone danny is not a halfa, right? not really at least. he has a core and he has the ghost sense but nothing else. big difference in canon already since there's no 'ghost half' for vlad to rip out like in canon.

Danny's family is DEAD. disintegrated [exaggeration] in a nasty burger explosion. so he's. bruce wayne levels of depressed. real bruce wayne-core

Vlad, instead of offering to tear out his ghost half, instead offers to try and find a way for Danny to be safely reunited with his family in the afterlife

(he's lying. he's gonna try and make danny a halfa)

Ofc, Danny with his ghost-core obsession being family-based, agrees. he's desperate and depressed. ripe for the picking

Vlad gets everything set up. But turning a human into a halfa is risky risky business, a 1-and-100 chance to happen successfully

so. Danny dies in the experiment. painfully. and he comes back immediately as a ghost. essentially murdered

and ye gods is he PISSED. Vlad lied to him. Vlad lied to him. Danny is a family-obsessed ghost and Vlad lied to him about his family and then he killed him

Vlad is a dead man

Danny doesn't just kill Vlad, he destroys him. He never merges with his Vlad's ghost half because he doesn't want power he wants him fucking dead.

SO dead Vlad is.

now where does this leave our precious, freshly ghosted, full-of-rage Daniel Fenton?

not destroying the world thats for certain. and, well. that's not to say that Danny couldn't go on a blind, grief-stricken rage that results in him becoming the walking apocalypse. he could totally still do that

do I want to do that? well, i don't hate the idea however I personally enjoy the idea that I came up with in the alternative

with Dan no longer a one-ghost-apocalypse, how does he become Danny's TUE? My solution: time travel. Danny doesn't go to the future to go see him, Dan comes back to the past to go see Danny.

i am not partial to the idea that ghosts age over time. So for the last ten years Dan has remained as a dead 14 year old kid the entire time. I like to think its more tragic that way.

At some point during those ten years, Dan figures out that time travel is real. And he becomes obsessed with figuring out how to do it so that he can go back in time and take his past self's life and get his family back

Yeah. a real Miguel O'Hara right here folks

Dan succeeds in his time travel, and suddenly the Phantom's nightly patrol is being interrupted by a ghost that is... unsettlingly similar to him.

Dan knows himself better than anyone. When he finds out time travel is real, he spends his time researching it and growing stronger. He needs to be as unpredictable as possible. He knows that his past self will be in his prime as the Phantom and will be used to adapting to unpredictable and seemingly invincible enemies. He needs to be able to beat that

So. Dan and Danny fight the first(1) time

Danny gets his ass handed to him

Dan reveals himself and goes on a villain monologue. Dan's ghost form is different than in canon, since its a close replica to Danny's Phantom gear. The only difference is that Dan's white CJ Mask has black tear streaks down from the eyes that are blotchy and smudged. As if he'd been crying ink. There are a few other subtle differences too, like Dan has a few trinkets that are motifs to his family, but i can't think of what without cluttering up his outfit

Dan can't kill Danny, unfortunately. As its his past self. Killing him would result in Dan ceasing to exist. However he can imprison him or overshadow him. Dan overshadows him, and Danny goes under.

This is chalking up to be more traumatizing for Danny than I thought

Danny is only partially conscious during the overshadowing. It's like one of those weird vertigo dreams. something is wrong but he doesn't know what

And it's actually his friends that help realize that something is wrong. Dan may be Danny, but its been ten years since he last saw his friends. Something has to give. Whether it be the subtle strangeness in his behavior, a dip in his humor and morality, or the way he speaks like he's reminiscing.

This idea is diverging more from canon than i thought, but Danny does eventually kick out Dan and defeat him. But its right before the nasty burger explosion. Danny can't make it in time, but Dan does. A very sudden save that Danny wasn't expecting and is confused about

Danny eventually meets up with Dan later that night to interrogate him, and brings Sam and Tucker with. They find out his whole tragic backstory

And the few days Dan has had with Sam and Tucker and back with his family have kinda reminded him what he was like before his death and before rage and grief took over his afterlife

He's kinda mellowed out slightly -- or at least snapped out of his obsession mostly.

they talk. Dan talks about what happened in his timeline. probably breaks down and cries, allowing him to properly process the grief he's been avoiding for the last decade

there's no forgiveness yet. Dan overshadowed Danny (terrifying him in the process and realizing that despite everything, there are still things that ghosts can do that Danny's not prepared for. he needs to prepare), tried to take over his life, and was all around violent and cruel to him out of jealousy and desperation. However, there is a chance of redemption

Dan doesnt want to go back to his time. his family isn't there. he's alone. he doesnt want to be alone. he's fourteen years old and dead

but... but he knows he doesn't belong here. his time with the fentons has passed, and he has an afterlife to look into. he can't... cling to the past. and its a voice that sounds like jazz saying this in his head

"you can visit" danny says after a moment, seeing the fear on dan's face. he's a bleeding heart through and through, even if he resents Dan just a little bit for what he did "you know how to time travel, right? I don't think there's any harm coming to visit"

"or," tucker says, "we can visit you! you can show us your time! i want to see what technology is like in ten years"

Dan... looks hopeful. and they mean it too. yes. visiting... that makes him feel better. "if Vlad gives you trouble don't be afraid to tell me" he offers in turn, and smiles wide and toothily. much too wide for a human. "i'll be happy to handle him again"

Danny makes a mental note to never let the two meet. "i will"

and Dan disappears

----------

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

Masterpost

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank @sara0055 @blusunkhild @letmesayfuxk (?) @latheevening226 @tkiesai @rosedasy @meira-3919 @igotafewbadideas @princessbelix @cyber-geist

[ponett]

I spent a whole sunday reading through immortal hulk with the free trial, is there anything else good you would recommend to go through before the week's end? (I dont read many comics, the last one was I read was archie megaman)

Oh hell yeah, glad my tweets exposed at least one other person to Immortal Hulk. It's great

Admittedly I've only really started reading a variety of Marvel comics recently. I've liked characters like Spider-Man and the X-Men all my life, but I've only recently gotten over my aversion to just diving into random popular 616 stuff and not worrying about having the full context for everything. (I was finally like, oh yeah, I don't have to put up with the MCU and most of the cartoon adaptations being extremely mid, I can just go jump around and read the good stuff.) So I'm not the best person to ask. But here's stuff I've been enjoying recently:

Fantastic Four (2022) by Ryan North of Dinosaur Comics fame. Easily my highest recommendation here. Extremely fun and funny and heartfelt and creative science adventures. Immediately made me care about the Fantastic Four way more than I ever have. I subscribed to this one immediately upon catching up, and I hope North stays on for a good long while. (On a related note, I need to read North's Squirrel Girl run soon.)

Unbelievable Gwenpool (2018). As a series about a normal human girl transported into the comic world and getting by with her knowledge of comics, it's EXTREMELY meta, but instead of just going "haha isn't this all so dumb and tropey?" it ends up being a story about searching for meaning in superhero comic books where creative teams change all the time and the status quo reigns supreme. It's good stuff that goes some wild places. My only real gripe is the inconsistent art.

And they're only a few issues in and are still setting things up, but I'm enjoying the new Ultimates and Ultimate Spider-Man comics, which pick up following the Ultimate Invasion miniseries and the Ultimate Universe one-shot.

And uh... actually that's all the Marvel stuff I've been reading recently aside from Claremont X-Men - which is of course very good, but it's not as easy to recommend as these shorter, more standalone runs.

Some other relatively self-contained Marvel stuff I'd like to read soon:

Immortal Thor, the current series by Immortal Hulk writer Al Ewing that I hear is just as good

Ms. Marvel (2014)

Hawkeye (2012) by Matt Fraction

Spider-Man: Life Story

The Vision (2015)

And I hear Miles Morales: Spider-Man (2022) is pretty good and has Miles doing some crazy shounen anime shit while still being a street-level series, so I'm interested in checking that out

I'm also open to recommendations! I'm aware of many of the big hits, but, y'know, there's always gonna be good stuff that gets buried given the sheer volume of comics Marvel puts out every year

[yourlokalescholar]

Worldbuilding idea: a society in which everyone (or near enough everyone) can use magic.

Spells are passed down orally for millennia, resulting in regional differences and localised adaptations.

Different countries and societies that independently develop very similar spells (think, like, the amount of “meat/vegetables wrapped in pastry” foods we have: dumplings, samosas, pasties, pies, gyozas, etc) such as fireball. Of course creating fire is a simple, useful spell that you’d expect any civilisation to have, but it’s approached in different ways across the world: different colours, different ratios of light to heat, some that float and subsist on burning the caster’s magic, some that fly from the hands and burn out quickly unless they hit something flammable…

Children at school have essential spells drilled into their heads the same way they memorise their times tables and ABCs.

Teachers need to memorise spells to detect and nullify all of the common cheating spells such as telepathy, hide writing, illusion, read from afar, etc. Kids are constantly coming up with new spells and alterations on the old ones, and there are always rumours going around about “bypass” spells that the teachers can’t detect.

Magic can be taken from the user’s own internal store or from any other living thing (of course, most people have safeguarding spells on themselves to avoid that; it’s one of the first things they learn at school). It’s replenished with food and sleep, too, but it still requires time in the same way you can’t just eat food and feel fine after working out.

As such, most people have familiars: animals that they take around with them for the primary purpose of using as a battery. They’re bred to have as large energy stores as possible—of course, this means that they have a bottomless appetite, so few have more than one. Less wealthy folk might have unspecialised, non-familiar animals: less useful, but less expensive too.

Plants are another good source of magic, as they don’t move and are less expensive to feed. Some mages would take this too far and let plants and fungi grow on their own body, as a convenient, portable, self-regenerating source of energy. You know how fireproof stuff used to be made out of asbestos and cocaine was in medicine? Yeah, this is the equivalent of that. It went out of fashion soon enough.

Tired, broke college students that skip meals and subsist entirely on magic for much longer than is healthy and use magic to stave off sleep. Bringing back portable plant stores is a common running joke. Some particularly clever, sleep-deprived, and/or desperate folk actually let moss grow on them (“It’s perfectly safe! The roots are shallow, see?”)

Eventually tortoises surge in popularity as a familiar, as they move little and waste minimal energy, and with this comes a resurgence in the use of plants. Tortoises are bred to have thick, concave shells, and portable magic gardens become fashionable. Forums discuss the best plants to use to store the most magic in a small space, and there’s a constant debate between efficient setups, fashionable setups and setups that are best for the tortoise.

Technology that uses runes and written spells and can be recharged by any human, and essentially serves as an easier to use, more accessible version of a spell.

Most people only use the standardised spells they’re taught at school, or follow the instructions for more complicated spells as and when they need them. There’s no shame in it: how often do you make your own furniture, or program your own apps?

Self-taught mages, who make all their own spells and are proud of that fact. Sometimes the spells are unnecessarily dangerous, or terribly inefficient, or accidentally brilliant. Outsiders are horrified and intrigued.

Wealthy noble families who exclusively use their Traditional, needlessly complex, I-Need-You-To-Know-I’m-Better-Than-You magic. Their children need to look both ways furtively before quickly casting “wardrobe portal” instead of “Summon Wraith Servant”, and they beg their parents to let them get a teleport license instead of using their family’s outdated flying machine just to get to school.

Magical disabilities. People with a low internal magic store that are provided a familiar as a service animal, because how can you expect a person to get through the entire day on that little magic? People who are injured or affected by seizures and migraines when using too much magic at a time. And very, very few people who are completely unable to use magic, but every other magical disability tends to get lumped in with them.

Physical disabilities are seen as much less severe. There are spells for blind people to sense the objects around them, and everyone knows one or two spells for silent communication that work for deaf people—even those with walking disabilities can teleport or levitate themselves brief distances.

Of course, being physically disabled sucks out magic quickly, so accessibility spells need to be used sparingly, but the average person assumes it’s not nearly as hard as it is.

[lasnevadaslaborunion]

I think part of why I'm a little bit softer towards Quackity's finale, or simply unsure of how to criticize it, is that, perhaps more than any other ending we've seen, the meta elements are... very difficult to ignore.

DSMP was a roleplay server. Even at its most highly produced and pre-written, it was still a roleplay server. Moreover, it was a roleplay in which all of the characters shared a name with their player, the lines between the fiction and the OOC friendships were frequently blurred, and very few people had much if any experience with roleplay and its associated pitfalls such as the dreaded "character bleed." That is an environment ripe for joy and excitement. It's also an environment rife with turbulence and wounded feelings.

So, the first thing is that this doesn't just represent an ending for c!Quackity, it represents closing a chapter in cc!Quackity's career. When he got the chance to stream in his native language without fear of being judged or mocked for it, k!Quackity was born. When he embarked on a project that reconciled his two audiences, there was q!Quackity. c!Quackity was a storytelling triumph as far as MCYT goes, but where was he to go next?

On a narrative level, I find it interesting that the two survivors, and the traits portrayed that helped them decide to continue living, represent what were once c!Quackity's best traits - k!Quackity's determination and sense of justice, and q!Quackity's love and desire to connect with others. Combined with c!Slime's parting words of "Thank you for teaching me what it's like to be human," this might underscore a point that c!Quackity was ultimately a learning experience, both for the writer and the other characters. He might be gone, but he still left some positive impact. The ones who came after him chose not to continue a negative cycle.

However, the other snag here is... the other people. Yeah. No need for detail, you know who I mean. The controversies, the racism mentioned above, the legitimately awful treatment of those within and without the DSMP circle. A lot of us won't excuse the writing because of that. And I get it - we, the audience, can easily separate the story from the people behind it. If this were a film franchise or television show, it would be easy to replace the actors and move on. Not so in a roleplay. Not so when the actor and character have bled together so much.

I've got to get a little personal.

Within the last few months, I've dealt with a similar experience - someone who I frequently roleplayed with and who I considered a close friend became incredibly abusive to one of my other friends, to the point where he needed to be distanced from our lives and cut from future plots entirely. Logistically, that is a hard thing to deal with, especially when your character was closely entwined with theirs and dozens of others. But emotionally, it's even harder. You start questioning past interactions, wondering whether the signs were always there. You start noticing strange details in their writing that you know you might be reading too much into, but still make you sick to think about. In extreme cases, the thought of even playing your own character again becomes unbearable, because they were so clearly impacted by the choices of people you no longer want anything to do with.

I had an easier time adapting my character to the new course of events. My other friend, the one who had suffered his betrayal firsthand, nearly had her character disappear alongside his.

Sometimes, people cope with endings the way Tommy did. By saying, "No, I'm going to go back and end on a happy note, because my character deserves that, and the goodness was there." Sometimes, that just... doesn't feel possible. I really truly have to wonder if c!Quackity, for all the pride and care that was clearly taken in crafting his story, was just a holder of too many negative experiences and attributes for the writer to do anything but throw up one last cathartic hurrah and shelve him forever.

I'm not saying it was the ideal ending for c!Quackity. I'm not saying it was perfectly written, or that the absence of certain characters wasn't baffling or frustrating. I'm not even saying people aren't justified in hating how our favorite character's story concluded. Hell, I'm still not sure whether I like how brutal, how final, how bitterly tragic it was.

I'm just saying it's hard for me not to empathize.

[umbrellajam]

*steeples fingers and stares at my tablet with gimlet eyes*

so. Road to NML. You mean to tell me that the reason the rest of the country, Congress, and the President himself decided to write Gotham off, blow the bridges, and isolate everyone left - all criminals and asylum lunatics and 'undesirables', of course - was in large part due to *checks notes* a satanic rock star's unnatural, irresistible charisma and cult-like media manipulations aimed at dooming the city for his own benefit?

and that in order to find out what actually happens to this villain, who disappears from the Batman and 'Tec storylines...I'd have to *checks notes* read Azrael's event issues?

....yeah, PASS. I only included JPV's book on my reading list when I absolutely had to (*cough* whenever Cass pops up *cough*), so it's off to the wiki summaries for me!

...but okay, on the one hand I find it very funny how thoroughly fandom has excised this demonic media influencer aspect from the collective consciousness of NML - or at least it had never made its way to me via either fic or fandom posts. I know how few people read comics in general in this fandom, and even for those who do, NML is a Beast that only a percentage have tackled (see: me just starting to pick away at it!), so honestly it's not that surprising.

and like it can easily be left out of the story and still leave it coherent lmao!! One can certainly argue things are in fact neater that way; certainly it's not something that would ever be kept (or at least not in the same form) if NML were adapted to another medium, except as perhaps a normal media demagogue (or a montage of them).

but on the other hand...hmm. Thinking about Hurricane Katrina hitting all of six years after the NML storyline played out. And the debate over whether funds should be used for reconstructing New Orleans and other massively damaged areas. And people around the country wondering if New Orleans would or should be rebuilt at all. Or if a vibrant, historic city would just be basically wiped off the map.

I know this is a conversation that happens everywhere and every time a major disaster wrecks a city. There are always huge fights over disaster aid and funding allocations of any kind.

but man. It's something to see this fictionalized depiction in such close proximity to a real life disaster that paralleled it so strongly, and to know that - yes, there are always people who Do Not Abandon Their Homes and work to reclaim them. Yes, massive amounts of aid (federal and otherwise) and federal reconstruction funding did get dispensed. Yes, people cared, and yes, we rebuilt.

so...maybe we do actually need the demonic social media influencer's evil powers in order to comic book logic explain how everyone in the country turned their backs on Gotham and created No Man's Land.

like - no, it's not necessary. the narrative would work without it. and yet...

the premise imagines - requires? - a significantly more callous, selfish populace. Still plausible and compelling! Possibly even stronger as a story since the turnaround for No Man's Land still hinges on winning the country over to open Gotham back up, let aid in, and rebuild. But. You do have to start from - kind of a bleaker take on humanity?

it also kind of reminds me of what scintillyyy pointed out a few weeks ago about Dick killing the Joker, and how actually there's an important comic book superpower interaction going on there, too, with Rancor present massively amplifying Dick's hate and anger to push him over the edge.

but so few people ever notice or remember that and it certainly isn't one of those things that gets transmitted via fandom osmosis. (It was news to me!!) People focus on Dick breaking down and letting loose solely due to being pushed too far.

and that's extremely compelling on its own! It is! Just like the no-satanic-Nick-Scratch NML.

just thinking about fandom's tendency to ellide the supernatural or powered influences that are canonically affecting a situation, in order to explore/focus on more purely humanistic explanations or motivations...that actually end up being darker than what we might reasonably expect from real life, or from a character's typical values.

like it's part wanting to brush off comic book nonsense, part wanting to dive into gritty realism (that's not always realistic), part not having all the information because of learning things secondhand so you construct the most reasonable explanation...idk it's just interesting.

anyway.

more importantly: Dick and Tim are adorable in 'Tec 727-729!! Especially love them trading off yelling each other's names in fear/alarm, and also trading off protecting each other - Dick's "You hurt that kid and you're gonna be eating through a tube!" and Tim's clever solo rescue of a thoroughly captive Dick via clever use of a voice modulator and a two-way radio. The Boys 😊

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒏

part 5 of 💔broken family💔

summary - a year has passed, and maybe there's a chance for new beginnings.

the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

A year passed after your talk with Ari, and things began to change. He’d no longer treat you horribly when you dropped your son off, and you had continued going to therapy, knowing you still had things to work through. Your boss understood when you met with her for coffee, telling you to take as much time as needed. You felt happier than you have felt in a long time. It still hurt knowing you and Ari weren’t together because to you, he was still your soulmate, the love of your life, but you had no idea where he stood anymore.

You looked around your house, a final goodbye as you needed to move on from here. It was so lonely and quiet. All of your things were being packed and moved to a moving truck. There wasn’t a point in keeping a house this size if it would just be you staying there at times. You stared, remembering all the good times you had when things were happier and simpler. Little feet pitter-pattered through the empty house, coming straight toward you. “Mumma!” You quickly kneel, catching your energetic son as he clings to you. 

“Hi, baby. Did you get everything?” Jason nods, and you press a soft kiss on his forehead. “Do you want to say bye, house?” He rests his head on your shoulder, turning to look at the house.

“Bye-bye, house!” He waves, and your heart feels warm as you carry him out of your old memories and toward the new. His little chubby fingers curl into the top of your pink sundress, looking at you with big eyes. “Get drink, mummy?” 

You nod, “Yeah, baby. We can get a drink.” You place him into his car seat before hopping into the driver’s side and driving to your favourite coffee shop. The memories that had been formed here were… Special. You park your car, get out and grab hold of your son again. You begin to walk into the place, the smell of coffee filling your senses, causing your eyes to close for a split second. You stand in line, holding your son’s hand as he babbles about some new thing happening at school, and you listen, smiling down at him occasionally because you don’t know where you’d be without him. 

“Mumma, mumma! Should see my drawing! Teacher hung it up! Is good!” He grins, his two front teeth missing from a few nights ago. The joy he felt when he realised the tooth fairy would be visiting was the best feeling to watch. He had placed his teeth under the pillow, and when morning came. His little squeals filled the room, and he ran out to show you the money. The only downside was that Ari wasn’t there to see it happen, to experience his son losing his teeth, or to see his excitement. You knew he would’ve enjoyed the precious moment as much as you did. Jason tugs on your hand, moving closer as the line moves. “Can I has the strawberry shake, pwease, mummy?” 

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Of course, you can, baby.” A chill ran through you, a sense of deja-vu flashing before you as you looked over to the table you had first seen Ari sitting at. A spark buzzed through the air when your eyes connected with the very same pretty blues you had grown to love. He had been watching you the moment you walked through the door, experiencing the same deja-vu when he had seen you in your pink sundress. You had become more beautiful than ever, a glow wrapping around you as you smiled at whatever your son was babbling on about.

Ari smiled softly, feeling his heart warm as you smiled back. He watched as you and Jason headed to the front, ordering what he presumed would be your favourite coffee and possibly a shake for Jason, as his son loved those. Especially the strawberry, and he had been going through a strawberry phase lately.

It was as if the universe was telling you something because as you and Jason had been waiting for your drinks, occasionally looking over at Ari, who never took his eyes off of you. You could feel like something familiar was going to happen, and when you grabbed your drinks, handing the strawberry shake to your son, and were about to take a sip of your coffee. A man bumped into you, causing your drink to splash out and stain your pink sundress. Everything began to move in slow motion, your son clutching your dress with the hand that wasn’t gripping his drink and Ari standing and moving toward you the same way he did many years ago. 

His hand landed gently on your hip, silently asking if you were okay before turning to the man, and the weird thing was, he had been the same man that had bumped into you when you and Ari first met, on the same day, in the same coffee shop, in the same dress. You watched with wide eyes, never moving your hand from your son as Ari ripped into the man, and when the man ran off, Ari took you and Jason to the same booth before going up and ordering you another drink. You watched him from your seat, your son oblivious, but your and Ari’s eyes connected as if you could feel the same strange feelings you had felt those years ago between you.

Ari returned with the drink and some napkins, helping you soak up the remaining coffee and asking if you were okay. Your eyes never once leave him, and Jason looks up, watching his parents stare at each other with a look he had only seen once before when the whole family was together.

You smile softly, putting your hand out. “I’m Y/n.”

And a grin appears on Ari’s face, following your action as his large hand fills yours. “A gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman. I’m Ari.” You swear everyone could feel the sparks flying between the two of you.

“I, Jason.” Your son’s tiny hand lands on yours and Ari’s, grinning. You and your ex's eyes move toward your son’s as you both break out into laughter. Your hands come down and tickle his chubby belly. “Mummy! Mummy! Stop! Tickles!” He giggles, trying to squirm away from you, and glares at his father, who decides to join in. “No! No! You suppose to help me, daddy!” 

The two of you stop, placing a soft kiss on top of your son’s head before your eyes connect again, and you smile.

Because maybe fate had planned this, perhaps this was where you were supposed to be.

Where it all began.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

this is sadly the end of the series, and I thank everyone for being with me for this ride.

[cconfusedkat]

Spooky month means spooky ideas and spooky ideas ??? Lead to AU's!! >:-D i was dwelling on it for a few months and wasn't really sure on how i wanted to create this up?? But nonetheless i managed :-]

"Vampyres of the Old Faith" is an AU centered around the sudden uprise of vampyr (which are the Bishops in this case) and the vampyre hunters intend to stop this revolt before it gets any worse !! This takes place in the eaaaarly 2000's ,,, so it's a modern au ,,, and is a little funny to consider that the vampyr are Old as hell and arent adapted well enough to modern society 😭😭

YIPPEE Now that i got that down here are the four main vampyres :-3c there is a Green Coven, Golden Coven, Blue Coven, and Purple Coven. Each vampyre is able to shapeshift into smaller forms—like how a vampyre can change into a bat—these four can turn into different animals !! Theyve all been alive for different amounts of time, yet 300 years ago they all managed to find eachother and create a pact of vampyr covens!!

Leshy is Def known as the cruelest and invasive one,, he does happen to be the only one to mess with the shaping and mirroring of reality,,,, which honestly is concerning the most 😭 throughout history people have claimed they've seen "a big tree creature walking and taking people's skin" ,,,, So the eldritch rumors are NOT very helpful for him-

Originally i wanted to give heket a hellhound form but i actually liked the snake form better :-] !! Deciding her outfit was a little complicated but ,,, i think it turned out well ? Hekets known for being the most angry and cold vampyre. Despite , yknow, using fire magick . HELP

Kallamar o kallamar !!! She is a siren and she stays only in the water :-) if her siblings needs to speak to her then they make sure to have a water circle in the middle of their meeting room so they can all talk with her there,,, kallamar is known for her manipulative tactics and ways of persuasion which help her catch and convert people into vampyrism

Lastly is our main coven leader Everyone knows that built up the ideas for a vampyre uprising would be none other thann Shamura 👍👍👍 known for their sadistic self and invincibility , using wind magick to get away with a variety of things in a literal snap of a finger ,,, because of being a vampyre longer than all of them they're uniquely the one with sensitivity to blood?? They can still take blood but they dont drink it as often as the other three do (minus the way leshy does it because he literally latches himself onto a victim's shoulder with his mouth ,,,, )

With all the vampyres in mind who are our hunters ???

Well here's the first three bigshots of the company >:-D Sozonius has been hunting and obtaining information about vampyr for years, narinder is fairly new to vampyr bounty hunting yet still exceeded the expectation of a regular bounty hunter (surprisingly the strongest 23 year old), and lamb only recently started researching the vampyr after they lost their mother to vampyrism,, they are mainly known for being a detective and trying to help people out with finding their lost family members or attempting to help revert a vampyr they found back into a mortal !!!!

The company (which im,,,, Honestly not sure of a name about still 😭 i dont know what to call it) has been a benefit to society more than they realize. The unmentioned references happen to be Forneus and Monch. The head scientist is Monch, and Forneus IS the founder of the company to hunt down vampyres! Shes lost her family to vampyrism all the same, especially her two sons (aym & baal) which were kidnapped by Shamura too since theyve stalked narinder and knew he had a fondness over those two kittens just as much as forneus did.

There are more roles within this universe,, ive also been trying to think of how many characters I could add into this,, BUT YEAH !!!! Something really silly and self indulgent over the past few days of making finalized refs for them :-D

Ive been kinda plotting out another secret story for Narinder on how *he* was the one who caused this sudden uprising,, how the betrayal of leaving his siblings caused them to rage in revolution,, but that can be for another time 🕺

[mangotangerine]

concept: canonverse, vox fucks up somebody with some sort of organic spores, which then explode and get into his electronics, and start fucking him up and corrupting him. cue alastor finding him in a trash can and trying to figure out the mystery. it ends up becoming some sci-fi thing where vox is stuck in a post-apocalyptic projection in his "mind" where he hallucinates a relationship with alastor and then he wakes up and finds out none of it is real.

ANYWAY

this is the start. who knows if i will ever finish this.

below the cut!

vox gets stuck in a sci-fi projection & has to escape a post-apocalyptic world (prologue)

“Do androids dream of electric sheep?”

The first time he’d been asked, he had engaged the sinner in conversation—honestly, it was a fascinating question. The expression on the sinner’s face, though, as Vox answered, tripped from amicable joking into mocking amusement, and Vox does not like being mocked.

A few thousand volts into the newly-minted sinner’s demon body had taken care of that problem, the garbled shriek of, “It’s a fucking book!” an announcement to all nearby that Vox didn’t get the reference.

“Really?” Alastor had asked, disdain coloring his voice, because of course he’d been passing by—he’s always there at the most inopportune times. The world’s most obnoxious stalker. “I know you’re incapable of reading, but taking out the frustration of your illiteracy on innocent new denizens of Pentagram City won’t net you the positive reputation you’re trying to garner.”

“Get fucked,” Vox had spit. Alastor reacted the way he always did, a theatrical look around the public and a gesture toward Vox, as if to say, ‘can you believe how much of a loser this circus clown is?’ Vox wanted to say something else, snap back something smart and humiliating for the asshole, but Alastor had just shrugged and stepped over the smoldering double-dead body and carried on his merry way before Vox could find the words.

×

The second, third, fourth, and so on, times that he’d been asked the same question, he’d just responded with an eyeroll and a dismissive scoff. He’d read the book, eventually—he could read, after all—and had been disappointed to find out the book was just some boring sci-fi novel that had been adapted into an even more boring movie. Who gives a shit about sci-fi when he’s literally sci-non-fi?

×

The five-hundred-and-thirty-second time he’d been asked is the reason he’s in the fucking predicament he is right now. He’d barely glanced at the obnoxious motherfucker who’d asked, but the sinner’s tone was so self-satisfied it had offended Vox. He didn’t even need to look at the creature to send the electricity running through his body.

It had been a mistake. If he had looked over, he might’ve seen the odd little floating spores that surrounded him. Not that he’d have known what they were—but at least he might’ve been intrigued enough not to ignite whatever the fuck that radioactive-looking dust mote type shit was.

The hiss-buzz-snap of electricity arcing through the air was quickly followed by a strange pop-pop-pop, like muffled drumbeats, and then the air itself caught fire. He remembers thinking, fuck, the reboot’s going to be a bitch, before whatever it was hit him full-on—he was ground zero in the fucking blast zone, after all—and then there was nothing.

Something must have really fucked up the hard drive, because normally when his body suffers injuries, his electronic brain still works. Yeah, he’d be disembodied, isolated from himself while his physical form knit itself back together, but he was still there.

This time, though, he wakes up. “How long was I out?” is the first question he asks, because he never wakes up. Waking up isn’t a thing that happens to him. The only other times he’s woken up have been 1) when he first arrived in this shithole, and 2) the few times Alastor had put him back together again, early on, back when they had been friends and before Vox had created this new body.

The only person nearby is his assistant, which is annoying. He’d thought Valentino would care just a little, but he’s probably distracted by that fucking whore spider.

“Um—um, a… a few weeks, sir,” his assistant says hesitantly.

Vox sits up and the instant vertigo makes him feel like he’s going to vomit. The feeling is just as bizarre as being told he’d woken up after multiple weeks. He doesn’t vomit—he’s not even sure he can—and he’s never been dizzy before, not since he landed down here. It’s unnerving.

“What do you mean a few weeks?” Vox snaps, pressing a hand to the side of his head.

His assistant cringes, holding up the tablet he always carries with him as some sort of shield. When it becomes clear Vox isn’t going to murder him—if he had wanted to, the fucking VoxTek tablet wasn’t going to stop him—his assistant lowers the tablet. “It’s been, uh, seventeen days,” he says, voice timid.

Seventeen days. “What?” he asks. He’s too stunned to be mad about it. That has to be wrong. His lack of anger seems to scare his assistant even more and he scoots back a few feet in the rolling chair. Rolling chair? Vox looks around; he doesn’t recognize where he is. “Where the fuck am I?”

It’s like some creepy, decrepit office, complete with a threadbare, moth-eaten rug over scraped-up linoleum, the wood-paneled walls warped and stained with water damage. He glances down to see what he’s sitting on and wonders why there’s a fucking gurney in here, something like from one of those looney bins he’d sent his mother to up-top. His assistant isn’t answering him, just stares at him with wide eyes a few feet away.

“Where the fuck am I?” Vox repeats. He goes to stand, to swing his legs down off the gurney, but his body buzzes with something that smells an awful lot like lightning and his screen glitches, static skittering down the side of his body. “What the fuck?!” The door opens—he hadn’t noticed a door, had there been a door? There must have been—and in steps the last fucking person he ever wants to see. “You let this anachronistic radio freak kidnap me?” he asks his assistant. He feels betrayed, almost.

His assistant cringes, and Alastor sighs. “What was he going to do?” he asks, rolling his eyes. “Fight me? Me, the Radio Demon?”

“He could’ve gotten Valentino! Valentino could’ve fucking helped, or even fucking Velvette, you know, somebody who isn’t going to fuck me over the second I’m out of commission?”

Alastor gives him a curious look from where he stands in the doorway. “Interesting,” he says, then steps inside, “that you’d think they wouldn’t ‘fuck you over.’”

“I bet they’re looking for me right now. They’re going to kick your stupid furry ass the second they find out you’re hiding me away in this creepy fucking… dungeon. Place. Where am I?”

“The hotel!” Alastor says, sounding more cheerful than Vox thinks is appropriate. “One of the horror-themed rooms. Charlie’s so boring sometimes, you know? Wanted to make everything modern and updated. Themed hotels are fun! Everyone loves themed entertainment. She gave me a floor, at least, to do with what I wished.”

“This isn’t fun, this is horrific,” Vox argues.

“Exactly! Regardless—you’ve been tossed away. Thrown out like the garbage you are,” Alastor says cheerily. He shoves Vox’s assistant off the chair he’d been occupying and sits down in it himself, crossing his legs and leaning back to eye Vox.

“I don’t believe you,” Vox says.

Alastor shrugs. “Fine. Go out and see,” he says, as if he isn’t fully aware Vox’s body isn’t working properly right now. He waits for Vox’s resigned scoff to continue. “I found you in the dumpster,” he explains. “At first, I thought, what a great new home! Very fitting. Then I poked around a bit and figured out you’re still using some of the original technology I bequeathed to you, and I got a bit upset. You’re a work of art, Vox—at least, the parts of you that are still original—and though most of your façade is now disgusting, shiny, and new, and does belong in the trash… well. I got a bit irritated. So I rescued you!”

“You rescued me,” Vox says, voice flat. “And are now holding me hostage, and what did you do to me? I can’t—nothing fucking works right.”

“Ah, yes, there is that,” Alastor says, cocking his head as his eyes rove down Vox’s body. “That particular mystery, I am still trying to figure out. Your loyal assistant was unfortunately unable to tell me what embarrassing thing you did to get yourself all discombobulated in the first place, so I’ve been doing some reconnaissance. Very fun, you know. It’s been a while since I’ve gone and played Sherlock.”

“You’re a shit Sherlock,” Vox spits. “Seventeen days and you haven’t figured it out?”

“I didn’t find you in the trash until five days ago,” Alastor says, smile twisting into something more darkly amused. “People had taken advantage, stolen some of your more obnoxious… elements. Like that hideous coat, and your stupid little hat.”

Vox’s hands fly to his head immediately and he swears. “My hat,” he wails. “That had—that had my antennas!”

“Old models, very disappointing,” Alastor says with a sigh. “I did some renovations. Improved upon the original design. Cracked your ugly plastic head open to install internal antennas, and found some very interesting things. I haven’t solved the mystery at hand, yet, but I have a feeling the plants growing inside your casing have something to do with it!”

“The—what? I don’t have fucking plants inside my head!”

Alastor tuts, shaking his head. “See, I didn’t see them at first either, because they’re fascinatingly good at blending in with your other wiring. If I wasn’t so well-acquainted with that part of you, I might’ve been fooled. Look, I took pictures!”

He pulls from his pocket a handful of Polaroid photos and displays them for Vox. Most of them are blurry and comically over-or-under-exposed, though there are a couple that are miraculously not completely useless. Vox picks one up, grimacing at the fact he’s willingly interacting with analog technology.

Vox squints at the photo, tilting it this way and that before he remembers he can just fucking scan it and enhance it that way. Except for he can’t, and when he tries, something shorts out and he loses vision in his left eye—which means the left half of his screen has also gone dark.

“Oh!” Alastor says, sounding delighted. “How unusual. On one half, your screen displays your grumpy little face, and on the other, those lovely color bars. A much-needed improvement, if I say so myself.”

“Fuck,” Vox hisses. “Your stupid fucking photography skills are atrocious, and I can’t even scan and enhance the goddamn photos—a basic task—without my screen shorting out?”

“I, um—I took some photos as well,” Vox’s assistant says, holding up the tablet. “Digital… digital ones.”

“Thank fucking god,” Vox groans, holding out a hand for the tablet. His assistant passes it over, photos pulled up, and Vox stares at it. It’s jarring enough to see his head cracked open, back panel removed—and fuck Alastor for still knowing how to do that—but the sleek, dark green tendrils snaking their way through the mechanics in back are obvious as anything to Vox. He swipes through photos, stops at something up close and squints, zooming in. “There’s moss growing in my ports.”

“Yes,” Alastor says. “If we’re lucky, the plants will completely take over your plastic casing and rid us of you entirely sooner rather than later. The moss is very soft, by the way. I sprinkled some plant food in there, just in case it got hungry.”

Vox sets the tablet aside and stares down at his hands. He is an abomination of electronics and biological components fused together. If there are plants growing in his head, that means there are plants growing in other places, too. “What do I do?” he asks, sounding a little lost. He looks up at Alastor and scowls at the bewildered look he finds.

“What on Earth—excuse me, what in Hell—are you asking me for?” Alastor asks. “My answer is the same as it’s always been—do us all a favor and delete yourself from existence. You do nothing but make Pentagram City worse.”

“You’d miss me,” Vox mutters. Alastor very pointedly does not respond, just peers at his gloves with interest. “Well, I’ve got to… I’ve got to do something.”

“What, pray-tell, are you planning on?” Alastor asks. He gets bored of the chair, finding himself irritated at the fact Vox sits taller than him on the gurney, so he hops up on a desk he summons up underneath him. He kicks his feet absentmindedly, cocking his head to the side. “You can’t walk. You can’t do basic tasks. It took until I cleared those plants out of your head for you to wake up again, and they’re just going to grow back. And you don’t even know what you did, dear Vox.”

“What makes you think I did something?” Vox snaps, glaring.

Alastor sighs, leaning back on his hands. “Why else would anything be happening? I hardly believe somebody would go to the trouble of growing a terrarium inside your empty shell for fun. You have to have done something to warrant somebody going through any amount of effort to interact with you.”

Vox glares some more, crossing his arms in front of him like a petulant toddler. Alastor just raises an eyebrow, waiting. It doesn’t take long for Vox to cave. “The last thing I remember is murdering some plant-looking motherfucker who asked me that stupid book title question.”

“How disappointing,” Alastor drawls. “Eeliot, do you have any idea?”

“Who the fuck is Eeliot?” Vox asks, digital eyebrows furrowed, and Alastor gives him a pitying look.

“Your assistant,” Alastor says, distaste dripping from his words. “The lovely little lad who helped save you. God knows why, you treat him terribly. Maybe he has a crush on you! Oh, that would be fun, wouldn’t it. Do you have a crush on him, Eeliot?” Alastor asks. He knows the answer, it’s clear he does in his predatory grin. Eeliot shrinks in on himself, covering his blushing face with the tablet.

“Jesus Christ,” Vox groans.

“Sorry,” Eeliot mutters, and Alastor laughs.

“He’s only got eyes for one fellow, my dear sinner, and although the fellow he’s got eyes for is in this room, it is unfortunately not you. Trust me, I would rather it was,” Alastor says, turning his sharp gaze on Vox. “Isn’t that right, Vox? Still pathetically obsessed with me.”

“I got over you,” Vox snaps. He’d blush if it was anatomically possible, but it’s not. Alastor laughs in disbelief, something mocking and cruel, but Vox doesn’t engage further.

“Well,” Alastor says, hopping off the desk. “I’ll leave your Prince Charming here to play nursemaid a little longer. I’ve got a date with Rosie—”

“You’re just leaving me here?!” Vox asks, incredulous. Alastor twirls his microphone in his hand, watching Vox for a long moment.

“Would you like to come along?” Alastor asks. “I could summon you a wheelchair. Ooh, yes, that might be fun, actually. A showcase of how far one can fall, if they’re not careful.”

Vox scoffs, turning his head to look at the wall instead of Alastor.

“Hmm, fine,” Alastor says. “Your loss. Anyway, I’m going to ask Rosie a few things, maybe stop by Zestial’s and see if he has any idea. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but it irks me that I cannot figure out what’s wrong with you. Goodbye!”

Before Vox can respond, Alastor is gone. He doesn’t even use the door.

Vox’s assistant stares down at the tablet, refusing to make eye contact with his boss.

“Really?” Vox asks. “Me?” Eeliot shrugs, wordless, and Vox groans and flops back on his gurney. Nothing left to do but wait. He listens to his assistant breathe, the tapping of fingers on the tablet, and lulls himself into sleep mode. Odd, he thought he had disabled that feature.

[angryschnauzer]

January 11th 2024

Yeah its been a while since i updated. I haven't had the energy to if i'm honest, but here we go.

Hubby had his brain surgery end of November '23. The tumour they took out was a nasty one, somewhere between the size of a golf ball and a kiwi fruit. The wound has healed well with little to no side affects apart from some double vision, but he was checked out for that and it is a common after affect of brain trauma and was remedied with an eyepatch for a few weeks.

We met with the Neuro Oncology team at Royal Marsden Hospital in London. They are one of the best (if not the best) cancer treatment centres in the whole country, and we worked through a treatment plan.

Just before Christmas hubby was also cleared to have shoulder reconstructive surgery (he broke his shoulder bone in the original seizures back at the end of October '23). There was a really small window of time between it being enough time after the brain surgery that he could go back under general anaesthetic, but also enough time to mostly heal before he started Radiotherapy and Chemo, so just 5 days before Christmas hubby was in and out of our local hospital in a single day to have that surgery.

Christmas was a quiet and subdued affair. I also herniated a disk in my back the day Hubby had surgery (i was clearing the deep freeze out ready for grocery delivery), so it meant both he and I were dosed up to our eyeballs on strong painkillers for most of the holiday, and Little Dude spent the majority of the break either playing video games or building his new lego sets.

Two days before Christmas i also had to have emergency dental work (i had been grinding my teeth and had previously cracked a tooth) and whilst i was in the dentists office some utter idiot crashed into my car. That was the last thing i needed but i simply handed it all over to my insurance company (who are aware of my husbands situation) and they arranged a hire vehicle and sorted repairs.

Onto the start of 2024. This is the first week of Radiotherapy and Chemo for Hubby. He is getting very tired and fatigued already from the Radiotherapy, but thankfully no nausea from the chemo as yet, but that could change over time. He is scheduled for a full schedule of 6 weeks of this dual treatment, where we are having to visit Royal Marsden every day Mon - Fri for the six weeks, and then he also takes the chemo 7 days a week for the six weeks.

He'll then have 4 to 6 weeks 'off' treatment for his body to relax and recuperate, but will have scans and MRI's during that time to gauge what further treatment will be, but its likely to be just chemo but a stronger dose, but no radiotherapy. The chemo is to be 3 weeks off one week on, so a 4 weekly cycle.

The one thing we have discovered isn't done is prognosis's. When we first got to Royal Marsden we were shocked as they started talking about years, and explained that although it was a really nasty tumour, it was found very early and whilst it was still relatively small for its kind. They've discussed things like 'this years treatment plan then we'll look at next years', and also for a while Hubby was being considered for a clinical trial which candidates who have prognosis's of 12 months+ are only considered for. In the end he didn't meet the criteria (his cholesterol was too high). The Macmillian Nurses also have been talking to us about Mobility Car assistance schemes where you can get govt assistance financially and get an adapted vehicle on a 2 year rolling lease. All these timings are reassuring in one way, but worrying in another - we have no idea what the future holds and it really does cement in stone that our time is limited and could end any moment, and makes it very difficult to make any long term plans. You don't realise how much of your life is preplanned until you end up in this situation and aren't sure if you can book your kid onto the school residential trip in 5 months time.

Should anyone want the mundane daily day-to-day life updates you can follow me on my personal instagram @simone_with_an_e its generally a load of utter boring bollocks, but i try to keep it updated daily with updates when i can as its a lot easier to do 1 short paragraph than a big update.

For me my mental health is a little better now that i've had time to process Hubby's diagnosis and that he is getting treatment. There are still days or hours when i fall apart, and it could be something as simple as listening to a song on the radio as i drive back from dropping Little Dude at school and i realise the song would be lovely at his funeral. I end up having to pull over and have a cry whilst switching the radio off. I'm loosing weight and aging quickly, my hair is turning grey from stress and i realised i've aged about 15 years in the last 3 from stress. My appetite comes and goes, and things like red meat now turn my stomach and i can't digest it. But i also haven't drunk alcohol since the day before Hubby had his seizure back in October. I feel like i need to stay 'alert' in case i need to rush him to the hospital for something. I don't miss it as such, but I miss the ability to fully relax. Its hard to describe but i feel like at the moment i've lost myself and am just functioning to care for those around me, going through the motions as such.

Anyway, this has been a long update. I do still lurk here, you may see me pop up in notifications liking something, but at the moment i don't feel its right to start putting fandom stuff back on here yet. I do hope to get back to writing at some point. I miss it and the unfinished stories plague my mind as i have such lovely plans for story arc's and really want to finish them.

Take care all,

Schnauz

xxx