#they totally fucked after this lets be real

[yeyinde]

surreal/psychological horror + Soap where you agree to house sit for a coworker when they take off for a vacation. but a man shows up and tells you he's supposed to be staying there too.

their son, he shrugs. came home on leave from the military. crashin' here. thought mam might'a said somethin'.

she didn't, but it's fine. and he's harmless. sort of. maybe. you're not sure, really. because he's a little pushy. has a wild temper that ebbs and flows at intervals you can't really keep up with. tempestuous. mercurial. but he makes dinner. he tells you about what he did—not all of it, but some. like why he was sent home as he gestures to the raw scar on his temple.

need some tlc, he quips with a sharp grin. and lucky him because he found the prettiest little doe waitin' fer him.

harmless. a soldier. you can trust that, right?

but he stares at you with a naked hunger, like he wants to eat you alive. but it's gone when you really look. and sometimes, things go missing. your clothes. panties. odd stuff around the house. he hides the newspaper in the trash before you can see it. says the cable is out on the television—Netflix only. no news. he can't—he can't bare to see it. trauma. you wouldn't put him through that, would you, doe? no. you're a good girl. the best.

(at night, asleep. a nightmare; his rough voice in your ear: his good girl. so good for him. so wet—)

and it's just three weeks.

you'll be fine.

(—even though you taste him in the morning. on your lips. your tongue. the back of your throat. salty, bitter. but—there's a pack of salted licorice on the table. fifteen pieces, it reads. maybe you ate them. fuck, got such a pretty mouth, doe. you count each piece. gonna make me cum. fifteen. it's fine. it's fine. there's an ache between your thighs. a tenderness you lie to yourself about as you ignore the stickiness pooling in the gusset of your panties. fuck, doe, ahm gonna—)

absolutely fine.

until your coworker calls after finally getting cell reception. chatting in your ear about her vacation. normal. totally normal. and her son? you tell her. he's been a real help around the house, too (but she should maybe talk to him about sneaking into your bedroom at night because that's so weird, it's so strange; you don't want to wake up to a man staring at you in the dark, or catch the scent of sage on your pillow anymore, the lingering heat—please tell him to stop doing that because when you do, he just gets a weird look on his face like you're the problem, and it's just all so—)

"what son? we don't—we don't have a son—"

the phone line cutting out doesn't really surprise you. and neither does the creak of the floorboards. the solid weight of a chest against your back. the press of metal. a warm, firm palm folding over your throat, anchoring you in place.

a soft, mournful coo:

"ah really didnae want ye tae find out like th', doe. ah thought we had time together." his hand tightens. breath heavy, ragged against the shell of your ear. "but we gotta go, doe. it's time for us tae leave—"

(maybe you should have pushed back harder against letting him hide the paper, or barring you from watching the news. you might have seen a familiar face.)

[robinasnyder]

(I got really excited about this and got a little crazy about it. Forgive me.)

I feel like it goes something like this:

Jack and Janet arrive home to meet their new kid. Janet immediately drags Danny into a tight hug and calls him son, and tells him how happy she is that he's there.

Tim told them Danny was a meta whose parents hated metas and the Drakes were so happy to protect him from cps, his parents and Batman. They're also happy that Tim will have someone around to play with.

They stage the huge fight, and then Jack's mournful "confession", after he "finds out the truth". It's a big to do. The Drakes love it. They get to be super dramatic and Gotham eats up shit like that with a spoon. And then Janet and Jack get to play at trying to adjust. Meanwhile, Janet and Jack are very affectionate with their two sons and very protective.

Danny has fun the first time he "slips" and called Janet "mom" at a gala and her cold exterior breaks and she grabs him and hugs him and cries about how he's her baby. And yeah, Danny totally gets why the Drakes went along with this plan. It's fun!

And things are great for like 3 years. Danny was there when Garzonas jumped, but how can they tell Batman? They can't *admit* to Danny being Jason's constant invisible protector for the past 3 years without Batman finding out about a *lot* of stuff. Then Jason gets benched and won't be going out, and CW's bugging Danny to help him with a thing, and it seems like a good time for Danny to be gone.

Jason Todd leaves for Ethiopia and doesn't come back alive.

Both Danny and Tim are inconsolable. Bruce Wayne even more so. The boys follow him around, silent and/or invisible, with Danny now Tim's full-time protector. Danny and Tim have to tag team stopping Batman and saving lives a few times before Tim cracks and goes to get Dick.

And well, then Tim is Robin and Danny's like, pissed bc Tim didn’t discuss it with him, but in no way surprised. So now Danny's *really* got a full-time job as the Tim protector.

Then Janet dies, and Jack's hurt and in a coma. Tim and Danny move in with Batman. Danny's nearly an adult, but Tim isn't, and Danny can see how much Tim values being around Bruce now. So Danny does everything in his power to not get discovered while still protecting Tim.

It's a relief when Jack wakes and they go back to Drake Manor. Less of a relief when Jack figures out about Robin, because then Danny has to tell Jack *everything* about his own life. About his own time as a hero, about the government and his parents trying to capture and experiment on him, about Tim finding him and proposing he protect Jason, about not being there because his asshole time mentor called him away. About him and Tim following Batman, and Danny following Tim, about the way he struggled to not get found out while living with the fucking Batman for months. About Tim and Danny's deal that Tim doesn't go out without him.

Jack doesn't love the idea, but Danny has always saved Tim and Jason as long as he was there. He's crushed that both his kids have suffered like that, and be promises to be there now. He doesn't stop Tim and Danny, but he makes certain he knows where they are.

The only other people who know about Danny are Tim's friends in YJ. They know exactly who Danny is. YJ is good at keeping secrets, and Greta is so-so-so happy to have another ghost hero to be with. They even introduce Greta to Jack, in case something happens with the GIW and she needs a place to hide.

Anyway, let's just say that when a certain Red Hood comes to the Tower, Danny's already there. Frost is coming out of his mouth and Danny recognizes partially dead before the lights even go out.

Hood gets a few hits on Tim before Danny body slams into Jason. And then the real fight is on. Hood's latent ghost abilities start to show up as he and Danny are fighting, especially once Tim starts helping Danny fight. Tim's never seen anyone who could hurt his big brother before.

It takes a little while to subdue Jason enough, since he's extremely pissed and emotional. But that also means he rips his helmet off to reveal who he is and Tim's so relieved he nearly cries. He knows ghosts emotions can get all mixed up, and they're more potent and Jason’s appearantly half-dead and doesn't even know he has powers. But Jason's alive again. And yeah, he and Danny failed, but not entirely.

Danny's effected too. Jason's suddenly got two strange teenagers hugging him after kicking his ass to a greater or lesser degree (he roughed them up real bad too, fair's fair). But they're like babbling about how relieved they are that he's back. And Jason's like? Well, he's confused. But confusion becomes his primary emotion and breaks the anger. And then he's like, well, he's not chill, exactly, but able to listen.

And he gets this run down about Tim having gotten someone to follow Jason around to protect him, and them failing because it never occured to them that Jason would run off to another country, and Danny had gotten called away by another ghost. And they appearantly knew what happened with Garzonas. But they'd never cleared his name because that would involve telling Batman that Danny exists and Danny (and now Jason) are illegal.

And Jason like... god, he wants his revenge so bad. And more than that, he wants Bruce to prove he loves him. But also, he wants to clear his name. Some part of him really, really wants Bruce to see he was totally innocent before. Like it'll make the tragedy worse.

But they can't do that until Tim and Danny admit what's going on, and Jason knows they won't if he doesn't go with them.

Anyway, after a round of medical care, Jason’s got them by their collars and drags them through the zeta to the Batcave and Batman who is entirely flatfooted.

Cause hey, his son's alive, but never mind that, his son and his other son's older brother are illegal because they're dead. And also, Tim and Danny have been helping them for ages, and Danny saw Garzonas jump, and Jason is busy being smug about that. And oh yeah, Jason is Red Hood.

And Tim's dad knows about his and Tim's secret vigilantism and Tim never told Bruce at all, because, in his words "we got that sorted out already".

Bruce has a head ache and a lot of ethical debates he has to suffer through. But he does manage to get a hug in for Jason before his son wriggles away and makes his escape. And then Bruce is faced with Tim and Danny and all their lies.

Jack Drake gets a call to come over so they can all have a discussion. Jack is livid that Tim's hurt, and even more livid that *Danny*'s hurt, because that isn't supposed to happen. It takes a bit to talk him down, and explain about Jason also being like Danny, so of course he can actually hurt Danny, and both Bruce and Jack get a very thorough run down on how ghosts actually work.

Both dads are sharing twin looks for horror when Tim and Danny get into a fraction of the stuff the government and Danny's parents tried to (or did) do to Danny. In that moment, both Jack and Bruce come to a silent agreement that getting that fixed is priority one.

Jack's scouring all possible historical sources to disprove the Fentons, and he's not even surprised when he ends up hosting half of JLD because you know, if it gets his son safe, then why not? Also, Jason Blood may be the most fascinating man alive, since he's immortal and Jack does get to pester him with questions and information.

Also, the faces that Constantine fellow and Danny make when Jason Blood transforms into Etrigan and Jack specifically acts blase and even shakes his big yellow hand is just too funny. Etrigan even says (in his own rhyming way) that he appreciates people who can bother Constantine. Jack considers it a win.

Meanwhile, Bruce has the JL working overtime to get everything handled legally, press-wise and scientifically. Jack and the JLD comes back with their own findings as well.

Danny thinks, overall, it's pretty anticlimactic. All they have to do is roll ghosts into the existing alien and meta protection acts. It isn't even that hard. And in terms of public opinion, it's easy enough to sway the public, simply by suggesting people's dead grandmas might be captured and experimented on by the government, and people get really angry real fast.

All this aside,

I'm also thinking of if Jack dies, just all of YJ being crushed. Jack adopting Anita's parents so she doesn't have to leave the team. Him leaving Drake Manor open for whichever YJ member needs a place to crash when life's hard. Also, potentially, him willing Drake Manor to the team so they can have another safe place to be. And other such thoughts I'm not going to fully spell out.

I know this was a "deranged Drakes" post, and I amuse myself heavily by imagining such. But I also got on a roll. 😅

Danny: WHERE AM I!?

Tim: My room.

Danny: HOW DID I GET HERE!?

Tim: I will admit that I may have kidnapped you, but it was for a really good reason

Danny: YOU WHAT?! YOU'RE LIKE SEVEN!

Tim: I'm actually nine, but I am small for my age, so I'll let that slide. I took you because I want to make a deal. You need a place to hide until you're eighteen, and I need someone who can protect Robin until he's eighteen. We can help each other out. I provide lodging, meals, and education should you like it, by day and you become my hero's bodyguard by night

Danny: WHAT?!

Tim: Do you always yell when talking or that your normal voice?

Danny: I...look kid I just need time to process. I mean the last thing I remember I was eating a free burrito that somone....handed to me....*gasp* You tampered my free food!?

Tim: Yes. It was quite easy, actually. I normally wouldn't have done it, but I need someone to protect Robin. Last night, he got hurt in the field, and Batman yelled at him. I'm worried they'll break apart soon if it happens again. I will not survive the Dynamic Duo falling out.

Danny: I wont survive being thier protector either! Do you know what will happen to me once word gets around that Danny Fenton resurfaced to fight crime?

Tim: I suspect the parents you're running from will find you but not to fear. You'll be in disguise by night and by day. I can make you my Dad's illegitimate son with fake papertrail. Daniel Drake will have no connection to Danny Fenton or Poltergeist, the friendly ghost protector.

Danny: Oh, and your folks will be okay with that, I'm so sure. Every couple wants to find out the husband has an illegitimate son.

Tim: Yes, they are totally fine with it! I asked for permission from them last night. Mom is excited to dramatically welcome you into the house after she publicly confronts Dad about it. He wants to say he had you with a maid who he proposed to only to find out she had been stealing from the company and used him for his body and money. He said he always wanted to have a romantic scandal.

Danny: ......

Danny: You're an odd family

Tim: Thank you! So will you do it?

Danny: What the hell, why not. I'm tired of the streets anyway. People handed out drugged burritos there. It ain't safe.

Tim: *Squeal* Thank you, big brother! You're the bestest brother in the whole world.

Danny: Don't do that. It's creepy.

[neobunnydoy]

Clingy | Jung Jaehyun (M)

pairing idol! jung jaehyun x producer! fem! reader

genre and content established relationship, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF aka clingy and sulky jaehyun, mark interrupting jaehyun's cuddle time aww (ft. haechan), also suggested smut mdni (idk do I really need an M tag to the title?? help a girl out)

word count 1.2k

author’s note okay so I had this dream about jaehyun (miss you bro). how can you wake up after dreaming about clingy jaehyun and not write it down, yk? also the fact that mark and haechan are attached by the hips even in my dreams is so fucking funny to me idek why they were there

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I don’t know how to write this down in a text, but I just got a sick idea, dude.” Mark was practically vibrating with excitement at your hotel door.

“And…?” You gave him a questioning look before shifting your gaze to Haechan, who was standing beside him with a blank expression.

���I honestly don’t know. We were eating together, and he just walked out of the room, so I followed him,” Haechan admitted with a shrug.

You chuckled and stepped aside, letting them in.

127 was on tour, and dating Jaehyun, you were sharing a room with him. Conveniently, you were also one of SM’s songwriters and producers, currently working on Mark’s upcoming album.

The concert had ended, and you’d been waiting for Jaehyun to finish showering when Mark and Haechan showed up. Before they arrived, you had already been texting back and forth with Mark about new song ideas. It wasn’t unusual for him to get random bursts of inspiration and message you immediately.

But apparently, this idea was too good for a text. He had to brainstorm with you in person, which, considering you were only a few doors away in the same hotel, was kind of convenient.

Mark immediately started explaining his concept, his hands gesturing animatedly as you pulled out your laptop. It was easier this way. Having all your music applications at your fingertips allowed you to map out the idea in real time, even with the limited equipment you’d brought.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun was in the bathroom, freshly showered and dressing himself. He was looking forward to finally relaxing. Preferably with you curled up in his arms. Not that he’d ever admit it to the other members, but he was clingy as fuck, especially when he was exhausted.

As he brushed his teeth, he heard muffled voices coming from the room. His brows furrowed. Who the hell is in my room at this hour?

Once he was done, he walked out, surprised to see Mark and Haechan making themselves comfortable.

“You’re done?” you asked, glancing at him briefly from the bed. You were seated cross-legged with your laptop, while Mark and Haechan lounged in the chairs across from you.

“Sorry, hyung. I’m stealing your girlfriend for a bit. I just had this crazy idea for my new song,” Mark was grinning at him, obviously bursting with excitement.

“And I still don’t know why I’m here, so don’t even ask,” Haechan preemptively added, already anticipating Jaehyun’s confusion.

Jaehyun nodded at his response, though still slightly confused. “You gonna be long? I wanna sleep.”

“No, no, this won’t take long. I’m just mapping things out so we don’t forget,” you assured him. He hummed in response before crawling into bed.

Turns out, won’t take long was a total lie. It had been thirty minutes, and you and Mark were still going strong, bouncing ideas off each other at lightning speed. Even Haechan had grown bored and was now playing a mobile game, completely disengaged. Jaehyun, on the other hand, was trying his best to stay patient.

At first, he had distracted himself with his phone, scrolling aimlessly. But the more time passed, the more irritated he became. He’d been looking forward to this. Cuddling, kissing you, just recharging after the exhausting two-day concert. Tomorrow’s flight wasn’t too early, which meant you had a rare opportunity to just be together. And now Mark was stealing that from him.

It wasn’t like he could say anything, though. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was the fact that he’d cultivated this reputation as the cool, private guy of the group. Even after a year of dating, the members had never seen the two of you being openly affectionate. No hand-holding, no cuddling, nothing.

But this was supposed to be your alone time, and he was quickly reaching his limit.

Closing his phone, Jaehyun sat up and moved behind you, peering over your shoulder to see what you were working on.

“You can sleep first if you’re tired, you know,” you murmured, glancing at him briefly.

Wow. Really? You couldn’t even look at him for more than a second?

“No, that’s fine. I wanna see what you guys are up to,” he replied smoothly.

So he stayed, quietly watching. Before he knew it, he had rested his chin on your shoulder, closing the distance between you. His chest pressed against your back as he exhaled deeply, as if grounding himself.

Without thinking, you tilted your head slightly to let him lean more comfortably. It was sweet, really. He was obviously tired but still wanted to cuddle you.

Mark, mid-sentence, faltered. His eyes darted toward Jaehyun, then back to you, then back to Jaehyun again. He was surprised seeing his hyung acting so.... cute.

Haechan, too, had put his game on pause, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. Huh. So Jaehyun hyung did like skinship. Guess this is what he looks like when he’s in love.

“What were you saying, Mark?” you prompted, absentmindedly running your fingers through Jaehyun’s hair with your free hand, stroking his cheek the way he liked.

Fuck, that feels good, Jaehyun thought. Eyes fluttering shut, practically melting into you. He needed this. He didn’t even care that the others were there anymore. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he buried himself against you, fully relaxing at last.

Mark hesitated. He suddenly felt like an intruder, like he had just walked in on something intimate.

“You know what, it’s okay, noona. I’ll just text you the rest,” Mark said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m tired anyway,” he lied. “And me and Haechan still haven’t finished our meal.”

“God, finally. Our noodles are probably ice cold by now,” Haechan groaned dramatically, standing up and stretching.

“See you later, noona. Thanks for the impromptu session,” Mark said as they both made their way to the door.

The moment the door clicked shut, Jaehyun mumbled, “Finally.”

You laughed, amused at how shameless he had been. You never thought he’d actually act this affectionate in front of his dongsaengs. He was always so private, so controlled. But the fact that he couldn’t hold back just because he needed you that much? It made your heart swell.

“Sorry it took so long, baby.” You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he immediately tackled you onto the bed, his full weight pressing into you. Burying his face in the crook of your neck.

He only hummed in response, too tired to say anything else.

“Wait, let me put my laptop away and turn off the lights,” you murmured, attempting to slip out of Jaehyun’s hold.

But the moment you tried to move, his arms only tightened around you, locking you in place as he let out a quiet, dramatic whine against your neck.

You bit back a laugh. He’s so cute like this. A sight meant only for you to see, to know. Well… maybe not only you anymore, considering two of his dongsaengs had just witnessed his rare moment of clinginess.

“It’ll just be a second, baby. I promise,” you soothed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. His lips twitched into a small, sleepy smile before he begrudgingly loosened his grip, allowing you to slip away.

As quickly as you could, you shut your laptop, placed it on the nightstand, and flicked off the lights.

You climbed back into bed, immediately curling into his warmth, and as you stared at his tired expression, you couldn’t help but giggle, remembering how sulky he had been earlier.

Jaehyun cracked one eye open, voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you laughing?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress another laugh. “Someone’s definitely going to be a topic of discussion in the group chat tomorrow.”

He exhaled, already knowing exactly what you meant. The teasing from the members was inevitable at this point.

“I don’t even fucking care anymore,” he grumbled, pulling you closer as if to make up for the lost time. “They were stealing my girlfriend.”

You laughed outright this time, tracing slow circles on his back. “Nobody was stealing anyone.”

“Yeah, but you let him use our cuddle time,” he muttered, nuzzling against your shoulder.

“Aw… sorry, baby. I’ll make it up to you,” you cooed, pressing gentle kisses across his face, his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, until he finally let out a satisfied hum.

His grip on you eased slightly, but before he could fully relax, he added, “I had an idea of how you should beg for my forgiveness… but I don’t have the energy to move right now.”

You smirked, immediately catching on to where his sleepy mind was going.

Without hesitation, you shifted, slowly moving to straddle his waist. The second your warmth settled over him, Jaehyun’s tired eyes fluttered open. Still heavy-lidded, still drowsy, but now undeniably intrigued.

You giggled, thoroughly amused that this was what managed to stir him awake.

“Well,” you leaned down, your lips just barely grazing his. “I can work with that. You just stay still, okay?” you whispered against his lips, hands trailing down his torso.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice husky, as you leaned in to kiss him deeply. “Yeah make it up to me, baby.” You laughed. “All that sulking just because Mark stole me for, what, thirty minutes?”

Your fingers slips under his shirt, tracing slow deliberate patterns against his bare skin, feeling the warmth radiating from his body.

Jaehyun let out a low groan. “Felt like hours.”

You laughed softly, nails scraping lightly against his abs, making him shudder.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, pressing kisses down his neck. “I guess I really do have to make it up to you, huh?” His response was a deep, satisfied hum, tightening the grip on your hips encouraging you to take control.

Yeah, he wasn’t getting any sleep anytime soon. But with you wrapped around him like this, he doesn't really mind.

[nameless-jamie]

Hello, I love your PA series! Can I request a story where PA is on a plane with no wifi and Jamie's with the team at a party and celebrates too hard which makes him drunk call her a couple of times leaving her tons of embarrassing messages to listen to after she lands and it's all about how he misses her and how she should be here and not away from him and just being a pining mess 🤭🤭🤭 thanks 💜💜💜

Drunk Calls, Sober Thoughts

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

A/N: Ok finally the slow-burn is coming to an end! They confessed!!!!!!!!!! Let's see how it goes between them.

TW: cursing, drunk Jamie

It had been three days since their kiss.

A real kiss. Not an accident. Not some flirty moment they could brush off. Not another near miss where one of them pulled away before it could mean something. No, this was the kind of kiss that settled things. That left no more space for pretending. That confirmed what they had both known for months but had been too stubborn—or too scared—to say out loud.

And yet, they hadn’t talked about it.

Not properly, anyway.

Maybe it was because they were both still figuring out what it meant beyond the obvious. Maybe it was because neither of them wanted to ruin the unspoken magic of it by overanalyzing. Maybe it was because they were both terrified of hearing the other say something that might change everything.

And then Y/N had to leave. Not by choice.

It wasn’t dramatic—just a weekend trip. Rebecca had sent her, because the club was organizing a big preseason charity match in Italy, one of those fancy, and since Y/N was Jamie’s PA, she had to go ahead of the team to finalize travel details, hotel arrangements, media schedules, and all the other logistical nightmares that came with organizing a high-profile event. She had groaned about it, dragging her suitcase down the hallway of her apartment the night before, grumbling about hating flights with no WiFi and being too tired to socialize.

Jamie had hated it. Not that he’d said that, of course. He had just sulked as he carried her bags to the Uber and grumbled something about how “I don’t see why I couldn’t just come with ya. Ain’t like I’d be in the way.” She had laughed, rolled her eyes, and promised she’d be back in a few days.

Before she left, though he made some stupid joke about how she should “at least bring me back some of that proper Italian gelato, yeah?” to lighten the mood. But something about the way he stood there as she pulled away had lingered with her.

Like he totally hadn’t wanted her to go.

Like he had something else he wanted to say but didn’t.

She had tried not to think about that too much during the flight.

She failed.

That had been two days ago.

And Jamie Tartt?

Jamie Tartt was not okay.

He had told himself he would be. He had gone to training, gone to the gym, kept himself busy. He had filled his schedule, just like he always did when something was sitting too heavy in his chest. But then the team had a night off, and the lads decided to go out, and Jamie thought, Yeah, that’ll help.

Spoiler: It did not help.

It was the lads idea to drag him out to some fancy club in London, insisting he needed to “stop brooding like a lovesick teenager” (Isaac’s words, not his).

It was loud. The bass from the speakers made the floor vibrate, the air smelled like expensive perfume and spilled cocktails, and normally, Jamie would be in his element.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was five drinks in, slouched in the booth like a man in mourning, ignoring the girls who kept trying to make eye contact with him across the room.

Not in an obvious way.

To everyone else, Jamie Tartt looked fine. He was sitting in a booth with the team, half-listening to whatever joke Dani was telling, nodding along to Isaac’s commentary about something on his phone, watching Colin get dragged to the dance floor by some boy.

But inside?

Inside, Jamie was fucking miserable.

Because Y/N wasn’t there.

And yeah, she had been gone for less than two days, and yeah, he had spent longer stretches of time without seeing her before. But this time was different. This time, she had kissed him. This time, they weren’t just coworkers who flirted too much. This time, he knew what it felt like to have her lips on his, and now she was far away on a plane, unreachable, and he hated every fucking second of it.

Sam nudged him. “You’re being weird.”

“I ain’t being weird,” Jamie muttered, swirling the ice in his glass.

“You are,” Isaac confirmed. “You’ve had that same miserable look on your face all night.”

Jamie exhaled heavily, slumping further.

Colin raised an eyebrow. “You gonna admit you miss her, or should we just wait for you to drink another shot and start sobbing about it?”

Jamie scowled. “I ain’t sobbing.”

But even as he said it, his hand was already reaching for his phone.

“You look like a man who’s about to do something stupid,” Sam observed, watching Jamie fumble with his phone.

“Gonna call her,” Jamie announced.

“Oh, this should be good,” Dani grinned, watching him unlock it.

“She’s on a plane,” Isaac reminded him. “No WiFi.”

Jamie squinted at the screen. “It’ll still ring.”

“It won’t,” Colin said, shaking his head. “It’ll go to voicemail.”

“Good,” Jamie huffed. “I got shit to say.”

“Oh, this is gonna be so good,” Dani grinned, nudging Sam.

Jamie hit call.

The line rang once, then—predictably—went straight to voicemail. The second the beep sounded, Jamie started talking.

“Oi. Where the fuck are you? Oh. Wait. You’re on the plane. Right. Anyway—listen. I don’t like this. You being gone. I don’t like it. This club’s shit without you. Actually, no—everything is shit without you. Call me when you land.”

Isaac groaned. “Jesus Christ.”

Jamie hung up.

Then frowned.

Then dialed again.

Straight to voicemail.

“I mean, you don’t have to call me. But you should. ‘Cause, like… what if you never come back? What if you get offered a better job? What if some posh Italian twat sweeps you off your feet? What if—wait, no, you’d never leave me. Would you?”

Sam groaned. “Oh my God.”

Dani gasped dramatically. “AY DIOS MIO.”

Colin looked at Isaac. “Should we stop him?”

Isaac shrugged. “Nah, let him embarrass himself.”

Jamie ignored them and called again.

“I kissed you. Well, we kissed each other. And I dunno what we’re doin’ now, but I keep thinkin’ about it, and it’s annoying, ‘cause I can’t do anythin’ about it while you’re fuckin’ gone, and—Fuckin' hell. I think I love you.”

Isaac and Colin looked at each other.

“Oh, he’s definitely a goner.”

Y/N landed at Heathrow the next early morning, running on two hours of sleep and an overpriced airport coffee that did nothing to make her feel awake. She was exhausted, her body aching from the cramped plane seat, her mind already spinning with everything she needed to do once she got home.

But then she turned off airplane mode.

Her phone buzzed violently in her hand, a flood of notifications appearing all at once. Emails, texts, flight alerts—normal things. And then, right at the top of the screen:

Jamie Tartt (7) [Voicemails]

Her stomach flipped.

She shouldn’t listen to them here. Should wait until she was home, somewhere private, somewhere she could think—

But her finger was already tapping the first one.

The second she heard Jamie’s voice, her chest tightened.

"Oi. Where the fuck are you? Oh. Right. You’re on the plane. Right. Anyway—listen. I don’t like this. You being gone. I don’t like it. This club’s shit without you. Actually, no—everything is shit without you. Call me when you land.”

She inhaled sharply, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling. Dumbass.

She hit play on the next one.

"I mean, you don’t have to call me. But you should. ‘Cause, like… what if you never come back?..."

A warmth spread through her, creeping up her neck, curling in her stomach.

The next message played automatically.

“I kissed you. Well, we kissed each other. And I dunno what we’re doin’ now, but I keep thinkin’ about it, and it’s annoying, ‘cause I can’t do anythin’ about it while you’re fuckin’ gone, and—fuckin' hell. I think I love you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched.

A crackly, muffled sound came through the speaker—someone gasping dramatically, followed by a distant voice laughing, “Did he just say he loves her?”

Her fingers trembled as she clutched the phone tighter.

The airport disappeared around her. The voices, the announcements, the rolling suitcases—it all blurred into nothing. The only thing she could hear was Jamie, drunk and emotional, pouring his heart out in a way he never had before.

I think I love you.

Had he meant it?

He had to be drunk. He was drunk. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t real. If anything, the fact that he had said it while he was drunk—when his guard was completely down, when he wasn’t overthinking or trying to be cool—made it feel even more real.

Her heart pounded as she played the last voicemail.

"You’re gonna listen to all these in the morning and laugh at me, aren’t ya? ‘Cause you think I’m a dumbass. And I am. But I don’t care. I miss you, and I don’t wanna pretend like I don’t. I just… wish you were here. That’s all."

By the time the message ended, Y/N was already in a cab on the way to his house.

Jamie was still half-drunk when she found him, sprawled out on his bed, one foot dangling off the edge, his shirt nowhere in sight, and the blankets twisted around him like he had fought them in his sleep—and lost. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, his lips slightly parted as he stirred at the sound of her footsteps.

His head lolled to the side, bleary eyes blinking up at her.

“Am I dreamin’?” His voice was thick, slow, coated in sleep and leftover alcohol.

Y/N sat at the edge of the bed, resting a hand lightly on his chest. “No, Jamie.”

His brows furrowed, his eyes tracking over her face like he needed to make sure she was real.

“You’re here,” he murmured.

“I am.”

His lips curved, lazy and lopsided. “Fuckin’ hell. You’re so pretty. I forgot how pretty you are.”

Y/N huffed out a laugh. “You saw me three days ago.”

“Yeah, but three days is forever,” he whined, voice raspy and rough, like he’d been talking about her all night. Which, to be fair, he had. His fingers clumsily reached for her, tracing along the hem of her sleeve, barely touching, like he was still convincing himself she was real.

“I missed you,” he admitted, softer this time, more serious.

Her heart clenched.

“I know,” she said gently, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You told me. Seven times.”

Jamie blinked, trying to process her words. Then his face contorted in horror. “You—”

“I heard the voicemails.”

His groan was immediate, deep, like it physically pained him. “Oh, fuck.” He threw an arm over his face, muffling another groan into his bicep. “That’s so bad.”

Y/N pried his hand away, forcing him to look at her. His skin was warm, flushed from the alcohol, his eyes glassy and full of something unreadable.

“Jamie.”

He blinked at her, lips parting slightly.

“Did you mean it?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

A flicker of clarity crossed his face. His throat bobbed, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested against the sheet.

Then—so softly she almost didn’t hear it—he said, “Every word.”

A breath she hadn’t realized she was holding escaped her lips.

And just like that, it was done. The waiting. The wondering. The endless push and pull.

Jamie reached for her, his touch warm and clumsy, trailing up her arm like he was trying to memorize her. “You smell nice,” he murmured, pulling her closer. “Like—like that vanilla stuff. I love it. I love you.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

Jamie blinked at her, eyes heavy with exhaustion, but still so open, so full of that raw, unfiltered honesty that only seemed to slip out when he was too drunk to hold it in.

“You love me?” she whispered.

He hummed, pressing his forehead to her shoulder, nuzzling against her like a sleepy cat. “Yeah. Thought I was bein’ obvious, but you’re all stubborn and shit.” His fingers found her waist, rubbing small, lazy circles against her hip. “But I’ll say it again if you want. I love you, I love you, I love you—”

Y/N laughed softly, threading her fingers through his hair, feeling the way he melted under her touch.

She climbed into bed beside him, and he immediately pulled her into his arms, wrapping around her like he never planned on letting go. His lips brushed against her temple, his breath warm and steady.

“You’re not allowed to leave again,” he mumbled sleepily. “Not even for work. I’ll sack myself. Don’t care.”

Y/N smiled against his skin, heart impossibly full.

“Okay, Jamie.”

[dumbgoondog]

Nsfw alphabet of uraume sounds insanely good. I hope you write for them soon!

Hell yeah it does! Wanted to do this sooner tbh

Cw/Tw - Gender dysphoria, impact play, hate fucking

Uraume NSFW Alphabet

(A)ftercare - Very Affectionate, lots of praise, getting a shower ready before any fluids frost and you both get colds. They’re super sweet and gentle like the first snow of the year. Snow is powerful but beautiful and soft too.

(B)ody Part - hands! They love holding your hand, it’s warm! They like making it just a bit colder so they can say “let’s hold hands to keep warm.” It’s cheesy but they love it!

(C)um - No preference, they do like seeing it on you though! Even if they don’t care for things being messy, they like seeing you messy for them.

(D)irty Secret - It’s not a dirty secret, but rather a surprise. They’re a hard dom. In charge and in control no matter the position or activity. The servant of Ryomen Sukuna who’s such an obedient dog is actually a hard dom??? Who knew?

(E)xperience - Once. A one night stand. Back in the heian era. It was more of hate fucking, with a star squad member. Then that’s about it!

(F)avorite Position - you kneeling as they lean on the kitchen counter and face fuck you! Yeah, that’s the good stuff.

(G)oofy - no. I’m so sorry, they aren’t silly like that! Other ways tho? Yeah they goofy with you and Sukuna only, but not durin sex

(H)air - yes, they got a white patch, trimmed and groomed and that plum color around the base. Smells amazing!

(I)ntimacy - As sadistic as they are they’re also very intimate, they like to lay boundaries first, have many safe words of different varieties, talk about what terms are okay to use. Where it’s okay to do things, who it’s okay to do it in front of. They’re gonna know everything before anything so you’ll always be satisfied, safe, happy, everything!

(J)ack off - once a week. It’s a little ritual, that to everyone else they think it’s some secret art of jujustu to hone and control their technique better. In truth they go lock themself in their room and work one out to relieve the stress of the week away

(K)ink - Okay, now hear me out, free use. I’m talking having you tied up and stuck in a wall or box or something, and then they get to use you freely and let others get a go at you too. The whole time they’re just sitting watching you watching people use you too. Then they get to take care of you after, and they LOVE that.

(L)ocation - The bed, a classic, but it’s safe for them and you! There’s nothing special about tho, they just like it!

(M)otivation - Playing innocent while teasing them. Whaaaaat? You totally weren’t grinding against them as you scooted by. You’re in public!

(N)o - himbo/bimbofication, forced masc/femme, they don’t want it. Dysphoria inducing and it’s just mildly gross to them. They cannot explain why it’s gross but it is.

(O)ral - give them oral. Please. Watch them become so messy. They’re dominating you still but it’s messier now, a little more wild. Kiss their tip and listen to them just moan.

(P)ace - nice and steady, not to rough or fast, but they start slow and slowly build up pace.

(Q)uicky - oh yeah! Ohhh yeeeaaahhhh!!!! Jerk them off!!! Please!!! It’s the closest they get to being submissive honestly, right before they have to serve Sukuna’s feast and you’re working them through one real quick? Oh yeah, that’s the shit. Not like full sex tho, just hands and mouth!

(R)isk - hhhh. Depends… they’re picky. Somethings they’re into but only for very specific parts of it. Like breeding! They like saying they’re gonna knock you up and cumming inside but they’re super infertile and do NOT want a baby or kids at all.

(S)tamina - decent! They can go a good bit but they’re done once they cum. They always try to make sure you get to cum at least once tho!

(T)oys - yeah! Crop whip and cages are a favorite <3 I’ll leave it at that

(U)nfair - VERY. Tease you all day and then NOTHING. No touching, no sex, nothing. They take No nut November so seriously, and they will punish you so hard if you cum in November. I’m kinda joking, it’s just comparisons honestly

(V)olume - not loud. Very low and quiet huffy breaths, pants, hisses. They’re very well put together.

(W)ild Card - okay this one is fluff. THEY LOVE POKÉMON. Totally not cuz I’ve been a slut on cobblemon(mc mod) for the past week. They love Pokémon tho and are not like a competitive play but they’re the “this is the idiot I got attached to in the first game I ever played so I get one in every game. I don’t care that they aren’t good or viable competitively, it’s my dumb idiot baby guy.”

(X)-ray - None. Okay ancient Japan did NOT have underwear, not really. Underwear is apparently something from Greece and Egypt?? Loincloth is technically underwear but different, and the fundoshi was not big common outside specific groups… also you aren’t supposed to wear anything under a kimono! Fun facts I’m learning!

(Y)es - something vanilla and just soft! Surprise! A multidimensional character fan portrayal woah! Honestly I want to see more people acknowledge that not every time that people have sex it’s not always “ooooh I’m hard daddy dom and you’re my little bratty sub oooooh” anyway tho, Uraume likes being softer with you more often than doing constant dom and sub dynamics.

(Z)zz - Not often. Not really… they just aren’t the napping type of person, if it’s right before going to sleep tho? Then absolutely!

Bonus fun fact - while typing this, I mis-clicked and typed 📀 twelves times.

[destinedfordiapers]

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

This is another entry in the Your Change of Plans and No One Mourns the Wicked universe. Maybe I should call it the Little’s Program Anthology.

You got everything you wanted.

“Open for the choo-choo train!”

You cringe at the train noises as a spoon inches toward your mouth.

Another meal—another round of mushy, flavorless slop shoved in your face. As usual, you eat your meal in your highchair, your soggy diaper fully exposed. Streaks of food that didn’t make it into your mouth adorn your bib.

“Silly baby, your yum-yums are supposed to go IN your mouth, not your bib! Let’s try again!”

It’s all part of the dull, monotonous routine of the life you so willingly sought out.

You couldn’t resist. For as long as you could remember, you wanted to be in diapers. You craved them.

The first time you saw someone who’d been regressed through the Little’s Program™️ was seared into your psyche. Where most people saw a pitiful reminder of squandered adulthood, you saw…everything you wanted.

You were obsessed with the idea, spending countless hours on the Little’s Program™️ website, imagining it was you being signed up for the procedures they touted.

It was all you could think about during your freshman year of college. It didn’t matter you got into your dream school. Or that you were living in a dorm, tasting the first real independence of your life.

You didn’t want to fantasize anymore. You wanted the real thing. Pleasuring yourself to the thought wasn’t cutting it.

So, you put your plan into action. You let your grades slip. You purposely got caught smoking in your dorm. You went to your disciplinary review high as a kite, taking no accountability for your actions.

Not only were you kicked out of the dorms, but you were also expelled from school, forcing you to move back in with your parents.

You laughed at your parents’ attempts to help you, as any loving parent would do. Whatever you could do to anger your parents, you did without hesitation. You were in too deep. The ends justified the means.

It took everything in your power to not jump for joy when your parents sat you down to discuss your future. With deep concern on their faces, they assured you that if you didn’t shape up, they would take drastic action, even sending you to the Little’s Program™️.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you taunted them.

One month later, you found yourself at the Little’s Program™️, sitting between your parents.

“Yes, the whole package,” your mother told the stern woman sitting at the desk, “Total unpotty-training, inability to orgasm, strict reliance on your baby food, the Babble Package™️, and the Tiny Scholar Package™️.”

That was the first time you worried if you went too far. You didn’t think they’d actually opt for The Tiny Scholar package™️, taking away your ability to read and write.

Obviously, you knew you’d lose other privileges—that was the whole point—but not this. Not your beloved books. You always assumed your parents would allow you to read. Or at least sneak in some time on the internet, maybe even write some more smut on Tumblr.

You pushed the thought away. This was what you wanted—who cares about the details?

The first few months after the Little’s Program™️ was pure bliss. No more responsibilities. No more schoolwork. Just happily filling your diapers without a care in the world.

Sure, it was embarrassing when your friends came to see you for the first time, but that was all part of the plan. Part of the fun.

You were the baby you always wanted to be.

But as the newness wore off, the monotony of your infantile life became unbearable. It was the same thing every day.

Wake up, diaper change, breakfast. Watch some cartoons, another diaper change, put down for a nap. Wake up, diaper change, a few hours of playing with toys in a playpen, bath time, new diaper, and tucked into your crib. And repeat.

Every. Single. Day.

Visits from your friends became increasingly less common. It’s not like they have anything in common with you anymore. But when they did, they’d spin tales of wild college parties and the girls they hooked up with.

They couldn’t get enough of the freedom college provided.

The freedom you enthusiastically gave up.

For days after those visits, you wondered what they were doing as you sat naked in the bath, your mom washing the shampoo out of your hair.

Probably pre-gaming for some frat party.

The worst was before you fell asleep. You fantasized about being at a rager, hitting it off with a beautiful girl, and fucking her brains out.

Maybe you should have lost your virginity before your second babyhood.

It’s far too late now.

You’d long since given up trying to pleasure yourself. The Little’s Program™️ ensured you’d never get it up again. Plus, no matter how long you tried—how good it felt—you’d never orgasm anyway.

And then your parents hired Allison, the beautiful woman feeding you your mushy lunch, to be your live-in Nanny.

Not once in the past two years has she acknowledged your former adulthood. To her, you are nothing more than an oversized toddler. Utterly and completely reliant on her for your every need.

“Ut oh! Is your tummy rumbling because you’re still hungry for more yum-yums? Or does someone need to make a poopoo in their diapie?”

Your body answers for you, expertly filling your diaper right there in your highchair.

“Pee-yew, baby, that is one stinky diaper! I’ll change you as soon as I get all these nummies into your tumtum!”

All you could do was blush and (ugh) giggle as she tickles your sides, feeling the contents of your diaper smushing around, filling every nook and cranny.

“Sta sta Awwison! Tickwes!!”

In moments like these, you would do anything to be treated like an adult again. To sound like an adult. To spend even one day on your own, free from the watchful eye and infantile treatment of Allison or your parents.

To take Allison on a date—where she sees you as an adult.

Just one night of freedom. Going out with your friends, getting drunk, hitting on girls. Living the life you were supposed to live before you threw it all away.

Or even just to read one book. One! Or spend an hour on Tumblr. Or even just to read anything. You cannot stand going out on the world not able to even read simple words. It makes you feel every bit like the baby you are.

Instead, you’re reduced to this.

When you’re out in public, your status as a Little is as unmistakable as your diaper bulge. Everyone—especially the girls your age—see you for what you are, cooing and waving at you as they walk by at the park.

It’s even worse when Allison stops and has a conversation with them. When you dread the inevitable: Allison expects you to reveal that adorable toddler babble in your silly, ridiculous voice.

Nothing makes those girls squeal in utter delight more than hearing you. Nothing. You learned cuteness aggression is a real thing—the girls simply cannot resist pinching your cheeks and patting your diaper once they hear you.

You hate how you’d do anything to get with those girls. How you desperately hope for even a glimpse of cleavage.

The only “action” you can ever hope for.

You hate how you see them as adults—and they see you as nothing but a baby.

The girls will walk off to a world of their own choosing. They go where they want, when they want. Free to drive a car, go see an R-rated movie, and order a drink at the bar.

But not you.

You stay at the park until Allison decides it’s time to leave. She drives; you sit in your car seat in the back. You do what she wants, when she wants.

Choices are for adults.

And you are not an adult.

As Allison leans over you, wiping the mush off your face, you catch a glimpse of her bra. The only remaining trace of your adulthood, that vestigial remnant of puberty, is the tortuous twang of desire. Reminding you of your futile ability to pay it off.

Not with Allison—not with anyone.

Was it worth it?

[mariistic]

LITTLE BY LITTLE

mari nolastname × fem!reader

synopsis: after the events of capture the bone: you can't help but care after your friend, if that's what you guys were.

warnings: mari being mari, closeted mari, friends to whatever the fuck these two are, slight angst, mentions of the crash, hurt/comfort, there's a severe lack of mari fics on here !!

Spring in the wilderness wasn’t kind, but it was much less harsh than winter. The snow had receded, leaving behind a landscape of mud and rot. The cold still bit in the mornings, but the air smelled of damp earth instead of frozen death. It should’ve felt like a relief. Instead, it just reminded you of how much time had passed since you and the girls crashed.

Inside one of the tents, Mari sat at the edge of the makeshift bed, her injured hand resting limply in her lap. The fire crackled low outside, the flickering light reflecting against the outer rim of the teepee. From this light, her features looked sharper, like the Mari you used to know—sharp-tongued, quick to snap, always keeping her walls high. But after catching sight of you, her shoulders slumped, and she just looked tired.

You knelt beside her, carefully taking her hand in yours. The bite mark was swollen, the edges pink and angry. You winced. “She really went for you, huh?”

Mari scoffed, but there was no real malice behind it. “Yeah, well. Shauna’s a fucking lunatic.”

You dipped a spare rag into the pot of warmed water, wringing it out before pressing it gently against the patch of bruised skin. She flinched but didn’t pull away.

“Hey,” you murmured, glancing up. “You okay?”

Mari rolled her eyes. “Oh, totally. Getting mauled is the highlight of my week.” You huffed a laugh. “You should’ve kept your hands to yourself.”

“Oh, screw you,” she grumbled, but there was no bite to it. “It’s not like I was trying to feed her.” You smirked, dabbing at the wound with careful strokes. “Well, I don’t know, Mar. You do love to run your mouth. Maybe she just wanted to shut you up.”

Mari narrowed her eyes. “You’re lucky I’m too weak to push you right now.”

You grinned but kept your touch gentle, wrapping her hand in the spare clean cloth. When you finished wrapping her hand, you let your fingers linger over hers, tracing the rough edges of her knuckles. Mari’s breath hitched, barely noticeable, but you felt it.

“Thanks,” she muttered, barely above a whisper.

You looked up, surprised by the lack of sarcasm. “For what?”

Mari sighed, shifting slightly. “For… this. For not making a big deal out of it.” Her eyes flicked to yours, searching, hesitant. “For staying.”

Your chest tightened. Mari wasn’t the type to get sentimental, but this place had stripped them all raw from the inside out. You squeezed her non-bruised hand gently, offering warmth in the only way you could.

“Always,” you whispered.

Mari’s lips twitched, like she wanted to smile, but instead, she just squeezed back.

For now, that was enough.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

You've talked before about Apollo's relationship with Ares and Ares' position in the whole fucked up Olympian family dynamic, so I was wondering what you think about how that might've changed with the move to Greece. Like, given how different Ares and Mars are treated in their respective mythologies, I can't imagine Mars is Jupiter's least-favorite the same way Ares is Zeus', and that's gotta mess with his dynamic not just with Jupiter, but a good portion of his siblings as well.

This IS a very interesting thing to think about because Mars is DEFINETELY not as reviled in the Roman pantheon as he was in the Greek one. It was because of this that in ToA, Ares and Apollo have that 'failure son-favorite son' dynamic, and obviously that likely changed with the switch to Rome.

Ironically, Jupiter gives me the vibe of not picking favorites - or at least, not having a least favorite, because let's be real, Apollo is still wildly popular after Augustus comes to town, so I think the 'favorite child' playing field gets leveled out during this time...

wow. that's something to think about. can you imagine Apollo bracing himself for a sibling to throw him under and it just...doesn't happen? or it's not as bad as he thought he would be?

this isn't to say that Rome was better than Greece, because they are far less inclined to pay their kids a visit and all that, but I think it's something to stew over - how they have less contact with their kids, but potentially more contact with each other.

Anyway, Mars to me gives off the vibes of much more willing to play big brother than Ares, who tries to keep those instincts a secret lol There is this one myth I referenced in Silence is Death where Mars, not Ares, kills Cinryas for challenging Apollo, and I LOVE the implications of protective big brother Mars.

What's tragic is I can totally see Mars and Apollo's dynamic being what Ares and Apollo's could have been. I can imagine Apollo being a little more open with Mars, and more willing to discuss things he normally wouldn't - things he keeps from Ares because of how much tension permeates between them, despite the fact that they get along quite well.

The idea that Rome, despite the devastating changes it brought, allows Apollo to perhaps be a touch more relaxed but is then thrust into this confusion between his family torn between Greece and Rome...muwah

Mars, Mars, Mars...the emotional conflict you could bring to your little brother <3

[dreadfuldevotee]

okay so I've gotta say I just finished iwtv and like it's really refreshing to find someone who's willing to talk about armand (and, by extension loumand) in an interesting way. Because I quite liked them in S2 so imagine my surprise when I go online and all I see is people acting like armand personally kidnapped claudia and also was mind controlling louis 24/7 (tiktok is horrible with that) when that's just the most boring and frankly nonsensical reading of the material ever. (I think it's silly in general to constantly compare loumand and loustat on the basis of who's worse because. come on.)

However, it got me thinking about how some of that might be the show's own fault? Sure, a big amount of the people not willing to engage are loustat shippers who can't comprehend one person loving multiple people, but I've seen that many people revert back to calling armand this big bad who would have let louis die as if it recontextualizes the WHOLE relationship when imo... it doesn't? Like I feel like I'm going insane bc the show presented it as this huge twist and I didn't quite get on with it? (I'm conflicted on the loustat reunion too but whatever). I feel that there's a disconnect there of what was established the whole season and what was said in the finale. And people are just running with it.

Man idek if what I'm saying makes sense but I wanted to hear your takes on it bc I quite enjoy them and value your input!

No, I totally get what you're saying! I think the details of the loumand breakup collapse on itself upon prodding a bit. I can understand why they wouldn't want them to split the way they do in the book (years of travelling together, finally ending up in New Orleans- Armand setting Louis up to meet Lestat who is wallowing, jumping at sirens 'n just generally sad and pathetic; and being fed up that Louis is seemingly unmoved to any real emotion after the encounter. Them exchanging some harsh observations about each other and then Armand walking off into the night) I think the season ending is more interested in serving the direction they're (presumably) heading for Louis, and wrapping up his life story.

I've been thinking of it to myself as a "Straw that broke the camel's back" kind of break. It's the resurfacing of all the myriad of ways Armand fucked up and fucked Louis over- Oh, and by the way not only did he have a more active role in the play than you originally thought, it never even crossed his mind once to lift a finger to save you. Though, even this falters a bit under remember that Armand breaks Louis out his crypt. People smarter than me have put their finger on exactly why it stumbles on the landing, I'm sure.

What makes it work enough for me is that Louis doesn't go back to Lestat. Yes, they see each other and hug tearfully but Louis does not walk out of Dubai with the intent to ask Lestat to take him back. No, he goes home. He ruminates in the sound of the driver's accent and immediately steps out in a saint's hat. The fact that he finds his way to Lestat is a turn of fate and even then its not really a reunion of lovers but of parents, as the only two people who will mourn Claudia. I say this all the time, but I think knowing that IWTV as a contained story is about grieving a child is the puzzle piece I think a lot of people miss. Before its about Lestat and messy romances and aliens, the whole story sprouts from this moment of deep grief. So I love that Louis has this moment of personal introspection and allows himself to feel his own grief and share it with Lestat but also make a promise to try living for himself and still goes back to the penthouse alone.

I think my continued feelings are a little contingent on how the show plays it going forward. The way I see it, if we start taking score for whos worse, Armand or Lestat- They are tied for gold. Lestat is still complicit in the trial, as is Armand ofc, but neither of them wrote it or schemed it, or genuinely personally desired to kill Louis/Claudia/Madeleine. If the show decides it wants to act like Armand is irredeemable in Louis eyes I will be....less than happy, to say the least. But if the show is as interested in engaging with all the character and all their complexities I think it could all come together quite nicely by the end.

[buckydeservesthebest]

Dude, I think you deliberately ignored much of what I said about Bucky's reasons for disagreeing with Sam's decision to put the shield in government hands, but I have no problem with explaining it again. As well as clarifying your clear ignorance of Bucky's trauma and the grief he was dealing with.

Bucky was selfish as fuck, what do you mean? He ghosted Sam for months, literally was called out for ignoring all of Sam's attempts to reach out in therapy

Bucky was going through the grief of Steve's death, not only the only family he had left from his original life but the only person who truly believed in him. Bucky is known for isolating himself from everyone when he's going through a bad time, that's what he did at the end of TWS. And I can say from my own experience that when you go through the horrible experience of losing a loved one you just want to get away from everyone.

And besides, did you even think about what was the content of the messages Sam sent him? In an interview with Seb and Anthony for TFATWS publicity, Anthony clarified that those messages were "hey, did you kill someone?". Who could blame Bucky for not wanting to respond to those messages that are nothing more than a mockery of the 70 years of slavery he was forced to live under Hydra's control?? History that Sam knows perfectly well.

But after months the one time he decided to show face is when he came to lay guilt and blame at Sam's feet fer the shit he was feeling.

Oh now it turns out that Bucky showed up for no apparent reason. Are you serious?

The last Bucky knew regarding Sam and the shield was that he *agreed* to take the mantle and said he would do his best, that happened to Bucky's face. Now he comes to find out from a TV news story that Sam gave up the shield for no apparent reason and that because of that now the government was able to choose their own Captain America, one who was clearly NOT the right person for the position as he did not did not represent any of the values that Steve conveyed.

After Steve's death, Sam remained in possession of the shield for a time without having taken up the mantle as Cap, continuing to maintain his alias as Falcon and continuing to serve the Air Force. Bucky never had a problem with that, never had a problem with Sam not having taken the mantle. His discomfort, which is totally justified, was that Sam made the bad decision to put the shield in the hands of the one who could misuse it: the government, the same government that is still infested with Hydra pawns and the same one that wanted to have the Avengers under their control. Of course the government wasn't even an option to let them have custody of a Vibranium shield. No need to even explain more reasons.

'If he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.' Is literally him centering himself in Sam's strife

Ignoring the full context to try to make Bucky look bad. The problem with the doubt about Steve's judgement of Bucky is NOT just that it "hurt his feelings" and that's it, NO, but that it's an implication that Steve was wrong to believe that Bucky is not the Winter Soldier and that he is in fact "a ruthless murderous monster in his DNA, who is destined to end up hurting someone".

Ending up hurting someone no matter how hard he tries is literally Bucky's greatest fear, which is why Ayo tried to reassure him by telling him "I won't let you hurt anyone" before reciting the code words, putting the Winter Soldier at risk of waking up. That fear of ending up hurting someone innocent is the opposite of being selfish, because literally Bucky is thinking about the good of others and not himself.

a place where he never considered Sam's point of view as a black man in a country built and still thriving on racism.

As I said before, literally the last Bucky knew was that Sam accepted the shield, and now he suddenly finds out that he gave it up for no real apparent rationale.

The TFATWS script is so poorly written that it didn't allow for any real development for us to actually believe that Sam gave up the shield because of racial issues, because literally the only person who told him that the world wouldn't want a black Captain America was another black man, Isaiah. Absolutely no one else even hinted that people wouldn't want to accept Sam as the new Cap.

In fact Rhodes (who by that point wasn't written as a Skrull) asked him why he didn't take the mantle, and never made a reference to public rejection of him for being black. Even when Sam appeared as the new Cap at the end of episode 6 he received nothing but applause and appreciation.

And even if it was all just Bucky being mad Walker had the opportunity to exist,

Bucky wasn't angry because he didn't want anyone else to be Captain America, but because he knew Walker was NOT the right person. Not only did John come across as someone arrogant who just wanted to prove he could fill Steve's shoes, but he was basically what Ross and the government wanted to turn Steve into by forcing him to sign the Accords, a government lapdog who would do whatever they asked him to do. And ultimately, Bucky proved to have good instincts in knowing that Walker wasn't fit to take the mantle after the brutal murder he committed.

he's still taking that anger out on Sam without ever discussing how Sam felt through any of it, which he could've done had he answered the dayum phone.

Nothing Bucky said to Sam was intended to make him feel bad, otherwise he would have used really hurtful comments like Sam didn't deserve the shield or that Steve should never have trusted him, etc, which never happened. All Bucky did was express his displeasure (which was totally justified) and try to convince Sam to do something about it and get the shield back, but Sam never wanted to do anything until the brutal public murder of Nico had to happen.

And NO, there is NO proof that any of Sam's messages were to talk to Bucky about the shield. Again, Anthony himself confirmed that those messages were nothing more than taunts to Bucky. Had this been the case, it is something Sam would have told Bucky when they met, telling him that he tried to talk about the shield but Bucky didn't answer him, and that is NOT the case.

Besides, if Sam had the nerve to say that the shield had nothing to do with Bucky, when after all the time living with Steve he should know perfectly well that it's false, do you really think he would bother to comment to Bucky about his decision about the shield? Of course not, if he didn't even apologize to Bucky for underestimating the importance that the shield represented to him.

Then he inserts himself into Sam's mission

Correction. Bucky offered his help to Sam so he wouldn't have to deal with a terrorist group of super strength people alone. Had it not been for Bucky being there, the FS would most likely have seriously injured Sam.

and makes a whole ass decision to help a murdering bigot from prison, one who tried to frame him when killing the Wakanda king and refered to his death and others as collateral damage. The hurt those actions caused did not factor into Bucky's need for answers. Selfish ass behavior.

Oh god, tell me you don't understand any of the context of the situation without telling me... 🤦‍♀️

The nonsensical plot that retconned Zemo into "the greatest Hydra expert" when that's not what we saw from him in CW, made his assistance necessary to figure out how the serum was recreated.

The canon book The Art of TFATWS literally says that Bucky did the right thing by enlisting Zemo's help, and this is something Sam himself supported. And the thing is that Zemo was not only responsible for T'Chaka's death, but he was an abuser of Bucky himself and one of the people who hurt him the most, if it was truly difficult for anyone to have to assist him in his escape and have to interact with him, it was for Bucky. But this is something that almost no one notices.

Much of the fandom complains that Bucky was supposedly "mean" to Sam, but no one talks about Sam's horrible ableist and victim-blaming attitudes towards Bucky. Sam kept cracking jokes about Bucky's condition, as if being part cyborg wasn't a result of the torture Hydra subjected him to. Calling him a "cyborg" and a "staring killing machine who killed almost everyone he met" is extremely offensive to a mind control victim who was enslaved and stripped of his agency for 70 years.

Sam is supposed to provide therapy to war veterans suffering from PTSD but he never made the attempt to empathize with Bucky, instead holding him responsible for a situation in which he had no agency and telling him that he "has to do the job and put himself out there for others". This being one of the most victim-blaming comments that can be made as Bucky is a VICTIM and doesn't have to do any work because he is not responsible at all for a situation in which he had his literal ability to control his actions taken away from him, and this is something Sam knows perfectly well.

Sam could also lash out at Bucky because he didn't talk about Isaiah's existence, when this is something Isaiah didn't want talked about and when Bucky also had no obligation to be the one to reveal it to the public, but Bucky has no right to express his displeasure with Sam's bad decision to have put the shield in the hands of the government who could misuse it, this being what literally happened? That's a totally unfair double standard.

After watching the only scene in BNW that mattered to me, I wanna emphasize how important it is that bucky says one of the most emotionally mature things that a character has said in the MCU in a long while.

He asks sam “Why?”

He doesn’t correct Sam. Tell him he’s wrong. He doesn’t make the moment about himself.

It shows that Bucky fucking grew after TFATWS. a show where he is so self-obsessed (because of his trauma which isn’t inherently his fault) that he rarely considers Sam’s emotions.

Bucky Barnes has one of the best arcs in the MCU, and I think him even saying “I love you” is another sign that he is frankly pretty damn emotionally intelligent and either the writers or Sebastian Stan decided that it was important to include.

[undertxkerr]

SO usually I just post my art (or at least that's what I keep telling myself to stick to) but I kind of HAD to write this one (how could you not??) and I also like the idea so 👏🏻 there, writing a fic about my own art work

INKED UP

It was a quiet morning, Hades had just woken up and was lazing around on the couch with a cup of tea while MC is in a meeting with the rest of the gods, one he surprisingly wasn't required to attend, a rare occurrence for them to not be together, especially during a top tier meeting, but after 6 years of marriage you find yourself embracing time spent alone.

He also finds himself wishing MC was there as the boredom sets in, so used to having her starting conversation when things get quiet, or...other activities.

Reluctantly he pulls out his phone, scrolling through the shopping app MC had asked (forced) him to download, he stops mindlessly scrolling when he spots something intriguing,

"a link for cheap tattoos? How stupid, I'd look like an idiot..." He finds himself muttering, however a distant memory of MC years ago mentioning how much she loves tattoos on people...

Well now that's hard to ignore, he books himself in for a few specific tattoos after a few hours of sitting on it and choosing the right designs, and as soon as he gets the notification that they are ready for him, he sets off on his own personal adventure.

Hours pass

It truly didn't hurt as bad as he was expecting, however for a god who's had every single Injury imaginable in his long life, his pain tolerance is hard to beat.

After showering, he stares at himself in the mirror for a while before picking up his phone again..the only reason he got this done in the first place...and an idea popped into his head

MC had no idea...

and what better way to suprise her than sending a picture while she's focused on this meeting?

He tries multiple different poses and angles before he settles on one flexing his muscles and showing off his new ink.

It takes moments for two blue ticks to tell him that she has seen the photo,

But no response,

He starts almost regretting it, not that he can really turn back now, but somehow the lack of reply is worse than an angry one,

He supposes now it's just a waiting game, there should only be around an hour left of this all-day meeting, so he decides to cover his ink back up and brew another tea, deciding this time to watch TV instead of scrolling through his phone which caused this whole decision in the first place.

It was two hours later when MC burst in the door, looking almost like she ran here from the meeting,

"Tell me your not joking?" She gasps out between pants, suddenly right in front of him.

"im-? Not joking?" He chuckles out nervously, holding out his hands in a placating manner.

Her small hands are immediately unbuttoning his shirt, anyone can edit photos surely! Even hades-

And then she sees them, at first (still in denial) she thinks they could be fakes, she's seen some seriously realistic fake tattoos before, but then she spots the red irritated skin and the slightly wet glisten from having the weeping tattoo under the wrap for so long,

"how- how did you manage to get these done today?" She whispers, so dead focused on tracing the designs with her finger she hadn't even noticed she plopped herself in his lap.

"I woke up early, I got bored.. saw something on my phone and they said they could book me in for early afternoon" he spoke, smiling down at his wife, "I also remembered when we was walking past that tattoo parlour a few years ago you had said you love tattoos on people..." He smiles bashfully.

"I love you so much, you know that?" She laughs and huggs him.

THE END BITCHES

(I'm sorry for calling you bitches ❤️)

I AM IM NO WAY A WRITER!! SO THIS ISN'T GOOD AND IT'S PROBABLY NOT WELL WRITTEN EITHER BUT AT LEAST I WROTE IT OKAY? 😭

[tropicalcontinental]

Human fear is the window to the soul or whatever ://

[witchinatree]

i know the whole "do you think jon ever used his powers to Know what his parents looked like" thing is far more devastating than this but what if he tried using his powers to remember original sasha? jon and sasha always seemed closer than the rest, he picked her (and tim) to work with him and tolerated a lot more nonsense from her than anyone else (using his password to access his computer [161], debating his pronunciation of calliope [25], etc)

and ofc jon and martin became significantly closer as the podcast went on, but in the beginning he was cruel to martin when he gave a statement but accepting of sasha? idk i think their friendship was a lot deeper than we realized (ESPECIALLY since his first murder in season 5 was because NotThem provoked him about sasha) and i think jon wouldve used his powers to Know the original sasha, not sure if it wouldve worked though

so so sorry to distract from the post but can yall read the tags for me because i suffered immensely for this post

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Count Xavier and Count Lehnsherr - SIGN ME UP

count xavier and count lehnsherr lore...

you lot figure that i grow weary......

[dykedvonte]

I think the most baffling thing about the Tulpar as a vessel to me is the fact that the ship really did only have a one way communication system.

I know it was cheap but even the most basic of vessels regarding major transport would have some way, shape or form for outside communication. Not only that but there was absolutely no form of innate emergency signal to show they may have been offline or in trouble despite clearly having a system to dock credits if they went off course. It's another factor that really shows that bad situations are made to get worse by design. One person who is required to relay all information to the crew and make all the choices without feedback. No way to update or call for help in case of a dire situation. No way to inform of inner personal conflicts and acquire procedures accordingly.

It really is like they are all in some sort of fucked up solitary confinement. They have their own world with strict roles that are meaningless in the end, as long as the cargo makes it, it doesn't matter what happens on that ship to the company. They don't want to hear anything and will come to conclusions on what happened based on how much pay they can withhold from the workers. Even what they do send is short, sterile and corporate to the extent it was likely written and sent out with a command by some random unmanned computer in an office.

There's something to be said about how unfair it is to force absolute power and control onto one person when you as an entity could do so much more to offload it but I've said it many times before so I won't again.

[ssaltlicker]

Thinking about all the on-screen character development we couldve (and shouldve) gotten from vi in s2. To actually see and hear her process things. Man