#time went so fast when i was making the other one..

[theonottsbxtch]

I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43

an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this

summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.

wc: 4.4k

She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.

She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.

Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.

Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.

It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?

It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.

No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.

The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.

Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.

And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”

He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.

And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.

“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.

Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”

There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.

“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.

“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.

His first race was in Monza.

And Franco had made sure she’d be there.

The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.

She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.

She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.

“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”

She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.

“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”

It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”

The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”

A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”

The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”

It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.

“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”

The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.

As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”

She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.

And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.

The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.

The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.

A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”

“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”

He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”

She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”

He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”

For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”

She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”

He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.

“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.

“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”

She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.

He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”

The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.

She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.

“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.

“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.

She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.

When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.

Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.

It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”

She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.

“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”

Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”

She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”

Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.

Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.

“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”

Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”

She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.

“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.

Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. “But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.

A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.

She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.

Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.

“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”

She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.

He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”

She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”

“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”

But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.

Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.

But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.

Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.

She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.

By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.

Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.

“¡Mira! Is that really you?”

She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.

“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.

He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”

“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.

“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.

She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.

The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”

He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”

They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.

Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.

to be continued…?

[alexaloraetheris]

My dad is a bigshot IT guy at his company (they design the digital infrastructure for banks and stuff, afaik), he's the guy all the other bigshot bankers go to when they need to do programs.

And he loves ChatGpt. He said it's useful for writing short programs and checking for stuff he missed, basically like talking to another programmer. Even if it makes a mistake he knows enough to identify the mistake and fix it. But for him it shaves off a lot of time off his tasks.

I'm a biologist, and since I'm still in grad school hell I have to write a shitton of seminars. He keeps insisting ChatGpt is an excellent tool that could help me. I did try using it at the start, things like 'give a basic overview of this topic' and 'reccomend me some papers on this very niche topic'. I thought it might be worth it if it spared me clicking to the 20th page of Google Scholar just to find a paper that I need for one sentence.

But honestly? I found it pretty useless. The overview bit I could have done just by going down the Wikipedia rabbitholes, and actually had fun doing it. Not a single paper it suggested was real, just made up titles and authors and even doi. Thank fuck I always went to check the paper itself before citing. It was generally an exercise in frustration with nothing to show for it. I literally do not have any problems in my life that this thing would be capable of solving, let alone solving them better than I can by clicking keywords into Google Scholar.

Dad keeps saying give it time, it keeps getting better at a fast pace. But he freely admitted it will never stop hallucinating, so I can't ever be certain what it's telling me is the truth. Usually that is solved by checking multiple sources and their credibility, but with ChatGpt? There are no sources. It's not even quoting anything. It's just stringing words together in a manner that looks 'natural' to the reader.

Maybe it's useful to my dad, who asks it to spit out a skeleton of a program he only needs to adjust, and only needs to run it to confirm it works. But for me? The only thing it can do is teach me wrong stuff and get me kicked out of uni.

"use chatgpt" that's the devil talking. buy four caffeinated drinks and pull an all nighter. this is the way.

[redflowersociety]

Saying “I Love You” for the first time. - Mouthwashing HC

These are written with the pretense that… THEY LIKE U BACK!! (Except for Swansea cause he’s married…sorri) THIS WAS SO PAINFUL CAUSE I WAS WRITING THEM IN PARAGRAPHS AND THEN… boom. 1000+ words lost. Never writing on tumblr again, rookie mistake. Anyways, enjoy!! Promise next post will be higher effort

Curly (Pre-Crash)

He’s quick to make a teasing comment on your unprofessionalism, confessing to your captain and all. But he’s honestly super flustered and trying not to grin like a kid on Christmas Day.

He takes a moment to sit with it. It’s likely that you two would have made advances toward each other for a while, as Curly is the type to take things slow if he’s serious. After a year of pining, you two were finally dating! But hearing those words from your lips brought him to such happiness because he knew you meant it unconditionally, without expecting anything from him.

After this instance, it became common practice for both of you to remind the other of your love. Curly had never been a “words-of-affirmation” kind of guy, but this was an exception. “I love you” turned into his favorite phrase, as it was the perfect way to release the tension building in his heart from just how badly he had fallen for you.

Curly (Post-Crash)

He honestly couldn’t believe that you could stomach looking at him, let alone still sit with romantic feelings for him. It brought him to tears when he heard it, unable to comprehend how somebody could show him such boundless affection and care. He wasn’t used to unconditional love.

He forced himself through the immense pain to slur the words back, and that’s when you began to cry. He forced it out again and again, until you convinced him through pleading not to speak. You knew how much it hurt him, so you assured him that knowing was enough. You didn’t need the reassurance.

Upon your return to Earth, Curly not only had surgeries to make his face a little more structurally sound, but he had attended speech therapy to make up for the years he spent in near silence. One of the first things he learned was your name, and then “I love you.” It brought you to tears hearing it again for the first time in so long. It was okay though, as he could hold you in his scarred arms as long as you needed to cry it all out.

Daisuke

At first, he thought you were being silly. “Aww, I love you too,” he giggled. It wasn’t until you spoke up again with a more serious tone that he realized, and you swear you’d never seen a man turn red so fast. He was so taken aback, asking you at least five times if you were serious and if you were sure. Once his nerves were satisfied, he returned the gesture.

“I love you too. Like a lot, a lot. Soooo much. Like, I really thought I was tweaking out or something from like, the way my whole body would go numb around you and my brain would get fuzzy-“ his drawn out explanation on how his romantic feelings for you overwhelmed him made you laugh. Within the next day, you two were dating.

Even before you two got together, Daisuke ranted to anybody who would listen about just how perfect you were. Now? Oh, man. Swansea has been really considering throwing him out into space after hearing about your confession for the twentieth time from his loud-ass mouth.

Anya

It was honestly a relief to her that you had said something first. She had been trying her best to stay professional, but seeing you all the time, your smile and laugh, the way you spoke passionately about what you loved; it made it harder every day as she fell further for you. You were one of the first people she grew close to on the Tulpar, and the first she went to when Jimmy… did what he did. The trust between you both was ample and strong.

She was quick to say it back, like it was a breath of air she’d been holding in way too long and needed out. You two laughed from the sheer relief on her face, teasing her thoroughly about it. She didn’t hesitate to grill you right back for being the one who confessed first. It shut you up pretty fast. You both agreed within the hour to start dating!

There were mixed reactions among the crew. Some extremely supportive, and then some straight up bitter and resentful (Jimbo). Jimmy began to treat you especially cruelly, and you refused to stand by and let it happen. Curly also helped to defend you when he could, seemingly coming to his senses about Jimmy’s behavior. You could tell that Anya felt intense guilt for your pain, but you assured her that it wasn’t her fault. It was your decision to date her knowing everything you did. You were happy by her side. She certainly cried over that privately, completely enamored.

Swansea

Swansea is married, so he knew to take your words in a familial sense. He didn’t return it, saying something like, “You’d better kid. With all I do for you.” But when you him on his lonesome in the utility room? Yeah, he smiled about it.

f you had a bad childhood due to your parents, Swansea could tell pretty quick. He never considered it his problem, but even still, he took you under his wing with Daisuke. He wanted to give you guidance in the ways he knew how. You deserved that, at least. He would go out of his way to help you when you needed, mostly with solving practical problems. He had never been the most emotionally aware, but he tried with you. He figured even if he couldn’t assist you much, it’d be good practice for his daughter on the way.

That’s not to say he never had any advice. He struggled to comfort, but he was quick to pick up on your mistakes and told you the blatant truth. You appreciated that, even if he was harsh at times, cause it helped you become a better person.

Jimmy

Your confession was certainly an ego boost, but nothing past that. He couldn’t believe that you could say something like “I love you” to someone like him without there being pity behind it. Even still, he returned the gesture because he knew that getting with you would make you so much easier to use. He took the opportunity.

The entire crew, aside from you two, were completely flabbergasted when they found out you two were together. Swansea was quick to ask “Why,” hoping to understand the reason behind such a horrible decision on your part. He didn’t get a good answer from you. Anya felt such pity for you, sure that a good person like you had been manipulated into that position. Even still, she couldn’t help you without putting herself in danger, so she kept her distance.

After the crash, Jimmy took out all his frustrations on you in private through abuse: sexual, physical, verbal, and however else he felt in the moment. Nobody was confused when you started wearing more covering clothes beneath your uniform. Swansea was the only one to really step up against Jimmy when he found that he was hurting you. You had to beg Swansea not to kill Jimmy for that alone, and even still, jimmy got a beating. Daisuke checked on you as much as possible, worrying constantly for your well being. Curly found your relationship to be one more thing to feel guilt over, as he once again couldn’t do a single thing to protect somebody from him.

[coolsketchablestuff]

Welcome to my atrocious shipping chart, I apologize in advance

Their opinions on eachother:

Headcanons below:

I've been having a story going on in my mind and it's just progressively evolved over time and this is the culmination of that specifically, so I'll try to explain the context of it here:

MAIN THING HERE IS THAT THE BEASTS (for the most part) "GET ALONG" WITH THEIR OTHER HALF

In my au thingy once they get along both half's get stronger, as if the soul jam becomes more whole (yes the ancients still ascended and reclaimed their soul jams as the rightful owners)

Burning Spice:

Got defeated by golden Cheese Cookie, after she left and he awoke from under the rubble of his castle he went to seek her out, to continue the battle, he wanted to be defeated, to be bested by the only worthy opponent, it was his DESTINY to crumble to her hands, he desired it so much. When he found and re-challenged her, she originally did fight him, but upon seeing how badly he wanted to be destroyed she decided to make him one of her treasures. At first he HATED it and would remind her how he could destroy all of it if he wanted to, but after months of slowly wearing him down he's now her right hand cookie and personal guard, very quick to fight anyone who gets to close to her radiance, he is referred to by the kingdom as "his anarchist".

Shadow milk cookie:

(because his actual story will be coming out soon I'm so paranoid about having to retcon this in the future) he has defeated pure vanilla cookie, finally! After so long!!! But wait, why didn't this victory feel right..? Why was the soul jam not reacting properly? Upon vanilla cookie crumbling should it not go back to him? Spoiler alert, no, no it did not as he was not worthy of it and the light was actively fading, as he began to slowly feel weaker with the progressive fading, having to think fast and make a decision he was not sure if he'd regret, he put all of knowledge to use and revive pure vanilla, centuries of being the representative of knowledge sure does come in handy! Ever since that day and discovering if the light fades so would he, he's tried to stay close to pure vanilla out of convenience, over time it becoming an actual friendship, though he is still overly protective/possessive of him to make sure no one hurts him.

Explanation of the relationships:

Golden cheese

- appreciates how Pure Vanilla's kindness is not conditional and relishes in the praise, though she's worried over him slowly spending less time with White Lily

- loves how loyal Burning Spice is, she is aware he's obsessed with her but she interprets it as him being greedy for her attention (it kinda is ngl)

- has fun doing stuff with shadow milk cookie, they like going to events together like parties and just messing around, they can joke with each other comfortably

Burning Spice

- kinda obsessed with Golden Cheese, seeing her as the only cookie allowed to be stronger than him, he doesn't let other cookies fight her as they're "not worthy"

- mostly sees pure vanilla as one of Golden Cheese's treasures and feels an obligation to her radiance to protect him. Is too uncomfortable to get closer to PV because he reminds him so much of pre-corruption Shadow Milk

- the new shadow milk cookie is definitely more lively, and ever since SM got along with PV his pranks have become more harmless which is enjoyable, one of his oldest buddies

Pure Vanilla

- Golden Cheese is one of his oldest friends, after everything that has happened he doesn't want to lose his friends again, he's slowly spending more time with her as White Lily is busy with other stuff and after everything he just wants to spend time with his friends

- after learning to get along with eachother, shadow milk is actually enjoyable to be around! They can talk about intellectual magic stuff, enjoy food and drinks, play games like chess, or just spend time together in comfortable silence

- does not have any strong opinions on burning spice as they do not talk much, though he isn't sure why considering how often they hang out, PV is confident he's seen BS looking at him sometimes when he thinks he isn't looking

Shadow milk

- pure vanilla is calming, when they feel worked up over something he's always there, PV is helping him get along better with cookies

- Golden Cheese Cookie is (currently) his best friend, they jokingly got along under the pretense on not being huge on WL but their friendship kept improving

- it's too much fun to prank burning spice, like SURE he could just find something they both find fun but as long as BS doesn't how actual disdain towards them he's not gonna stop! He loves to tease him too :)c

If I think of anything else I might add It? Idk, genuinely I just like having good guys in media make the bad guys nice, I enjoy "I can fix him" so much, THE ANCIENTS FIX THE BEASTS I SWEAR

[ivys-garden]

Life Series Session Recap and Alliance Analysis

Pearl opens her episode clarifying she and Impulse did nothing wrong. Finally I don't have to write “get over double life, tumblr” every week.

Yes, another Saturday means another instalment of the Life Series. This session was far more chill and slow paced than last weeks, ironic considering that this week's Wild Card was a perpetual speed increase! Going from a complete time freeze to full hyperspeed. Naturally, this led to about a 7.5 on the madness scale, so let's see what those teams were up to.

The Final Girls - (Scott, Cleo, Pearl, Impulse & Bigb (not anymore ;3 ))

On the topic of Pearl and Impulse, Cleo decides that they will fully enable all of they're future actions. Yes, she might sigh when they talk about all the evil stuff they're going to do, but she's fully on board.

Right about now Scott is probably regretting being team mum for three chaos gremlins as he's already had to instruct them not to give Gem any more reasons to kill them & had to break up the fight that was issued once they all went Matrix mode.

Speaking of Gem & Joel, a new development in the great drama sees Impulse explain himself and apologise to Gem. She doesn't buy it but it's the thought that counts. During this apology Pearl, the attack dog, is ordered by Gem and Impulse to slaughter grian. So while Cleo and Scott go off to make friends, Impulse and Pearl pop over to Rens for some very serious murder discussion, with an eventual “let's murder Grian” party forming consisting of Pearl, Impulse, Ren, Martyn, Bigb, Scar & Jimmy. If even a fraction of these people stick to this next session Grian is pretty firmly doomed.

In other news Scott manages to make allies with the Bamboozelers through several means, including staring at Jimmy's ass. Cleo & Impulse have a little caving adventure and Impy manages to make a working Creeper farm that they may or may not be sharing with Renwood. This leaves Pearl once again building the tower, which is good since she has arguably to much experience in that

While building the tower we get more Drama! Grian and Mumbo managed to get a quick kill on Scott early on the session by digging a big pit under the tower and spleefing him in. Mumbo and Skizz later come back to this trap only to be discovered by Pearl. The Suits try to get her to lure Scott over, but Pearl is far to loyal for that…. But not loyal enough to kick them out, reasoning that it would be really funny if it happened twice. On top of this she negotiated the ability to kill grian without them stepping in, very useful given her current plans & the second spleefing doesn't work anyways, so no harm no foul.

No one would actually agree to luring their team to their Death intentionally… right Bigb?

I'd say I'm surprised, but I'm not. He's worked again every team he's been in except Nosey Neighbours. I guess the “B” must stand for “Betrayal”

Bigb pulls the same thing Pearl did only not under the pretence of a joke, when Grian is around to actually make sure his team gets the kill, actually agreeing to lure Scott and doing it INFRONT OF CLEO. This being the second time this has helped to them, Cleo immediately goes off to find Scott to warn him about the traitor…Scott still falls into the trap anyway but that was a skill issue on his part. Bigb actually tries later to gaslight Scott into thinking that he didn't mean to betray the team, which almost worked until he started saying Cleo was the traitor, which obviously Scott would never buy. Oh he also did this in earshot of Cleo so she set her attack dog (Pearl) on him.

Bigb also later betrays the “Let's Kill Grian Gang” and warns Grian about the plan to murderficate him. I guess someone hasn't gotten over Double Life after all.

The Fast And The Furious - (Joel & Gem)

Actually, the fast and the paranoid might be more accurate as while Joel is just off having a grand old time prattling speed bridging, Gem is terrified that everyone is out to get her and doesn't seem to understand that putting your base on the main path means more people will come visit.

Aside from sending everyone they can to kill Grian and disregarding Impulses genuine apology, the team due doesn't really do much themselves

Gem was officially the last person to lose a life though, with no less than 4 people, including 2 greens, having to help kill her.

Also Joel added racing stripes to the car and… it actually made it a lot less hideous, well done Joel.

The Bamboozelers - (Jimmy, Scar & Lizzie)

Jimmy has regained the title as most confident member of this team…scarily confident in fact, just this session he was able to steal a potential kill from Skizz & kill his teammates, get another good kill on Joel using Lizzie as bait, managing to turn his relationship with Joel around to become allies and reaffirming his alliance with Renwood. Honesty 100 IQ plays from Tim all around.

He did die once this session, but that wasn't his fault and was also incredibly funny to watch Martyn bimbo his way through traps made for Bigb and accidentally kill Timmy. Great job everyone.

Speaking of failed traps… oh Scar… he started of strong, absolutely annihilating Etho in slow motion and living up to the villain he shares a name with by tossing him off a cliff, but after that every single attempt to trap someone fails miserably and he's forced into a cheap kill on Grian that results in him calling for vengeance… wouldn't be to worried about that tho considering Skizz and Mumbo's track record.

The Spanners - (Mumbo, Skizz & Grian)

How are these idiots not dead yet.

They get one (1) successful kill this session, spleefin’ Scott. A trap Mumbo tries his luck with several times after this despite knowing the Final Girls already knew about it.

Skizz gets no kills despite Grians efforts. An attempt to build a super TNT minecart launcher is made… on Scars mountain… and Grian spends several.minutes explaining to his worst enemies how the trap works… and then he and Mumbo stand directly under where they know the TNT will land. Yeah obviously Jimmy sneaks in and pulls the lever to kill them.

A second attempt to launch TNT is made, but this launcher is pathetic and ends up being turned into a party game. oh, and then Grian gets hotguyed by Scar. Grian immediately screams vengeance and blows up the reputation board, ranting about how little it meant since he was in good favour… which only proved he never read the damn thing but it's the thought that counts.

In their last hoorah for this session the team goes on a proper hunt The Bamboozelers as they hide in Joel's car. Mumbo sneaks up to pure lava on them… and burns himself to death. He then tries to hypersonic pvp Gem and you can guess how that went. He then joins in trapping Gwm in a big hole and burning her, only for the kill to go to Ren anyway.

These guys are Doomed. Especially because Final Girls & The Family are allied with Scar & The fact that Renwood actively wants to murder them.

Predictions: Grian goes Yellow next session, Mumbo goes out-out and Skizz is somehow still Red.

Renwood - (Ren & Martyn)

We actually covered everything these guys did already, The Grian Murder Crew, Martyn being a trap bimbo, Ren allying with Impulse to make up for beheading him, really the only thing we haven't discussed is Martyns strange choice to make the first 5 minutes of his episode unlistenable

The Tuff Guys - (Etho, Tango & Bdubs

Etho finally admits they're the comic relief. Like any good comic relief, these three stooges spend the entire session failing at everything. Tango fails on the same trap 3 times. Bdubs almost kills himself in said trap. There's more fights and bickerings than you could count on 15 hands and a toe

Oh also Tango also perma-died to Pearl after going invis and being pumped full of arrows.

Honestly it's not a question of if someone dies next session, it's a question of who.

[the-moons-tears]

Scaramouche x reader (Spiderman au)

GUYS GUYS SPIDER-MAN SCARA BRAINROT EIFJEJDCKKEFM gods i CANT

Hot emo spider boy grrr

Not very spicy (a bit at the end) this is pretty much just a plot that I enjoyed writing about

Preview:

"all you have to do is keep your pretty eyes open, and try not to fall behind."

Blues, greens, whites, and reds zoomed by the eye coverings on your mask. Noises from the city and its traffic flared up in your ears and ended as soon as they came. The sharp wind whipping your hair around, and the feeling of your suit moving with your body made you feel alive.

Your hands moved methodically in a pull up, release, and shoot cycle. The strong webbing that was naturally formed in your body shot out through a tiny slit in your wrist, and the cut in your suit fabric made it easy to shoot out of.

The ground seemed so far away every time you launched yourself up into the night air, but became almost touchable when you let gravity take you back down. Your lungs took in large amounts of air and released heavily through the mask fabric.

When you arrived at a certain large skyscraper, you began your ascent. The webbing that flew out hit the glass panels which you used to propel you upwards. The noises from the city below grew quieter as you neared the top roof with the internet tower sitting in the middle.

Your hand grasped the edge of the building and used your upward force to swing over the ledge onto the roof surface. Standing upright, the wind hit you and blew your hair away from your face showing you the view that you never got tired of. The city looked so small from there. Leaning over where you just came from, this was definitely the tallest building in your city.

Planes overhead made their presence known by the blinking lights that were flashing from their bodies. Above them lay the stars, although you couldn't see them because of the light pollution. The silence, even though so many things were happening, was always strange. It just showed how high up you were. The wind was your only company with its occasional howl coming from any direction.

Although, your solitude didn't last long. A cold sensation ran down your spine and an instinctual alert inside your mind told you something was coming. A figure, black as the night above came so fast at you, you didn't have time to react.

In a tangle of arms and at the speed of the impact, you and the figure crashed into the part of the roof that led to stairs to the floors below. A loud grunt came from the figure beside you when their head hit the wall.

Your own body had slammed into the stone pretty hard. Obviously it was much worse for you since the impact sent you into the wall first. A strangled gasp for air escaped your lungs after it had been knocked out and you fell to your side with your vision spinning. Rough hands turned you over, ripped off your mask from your face, and grabbed you over your mouth. The other hand held your shoulder to the ground.

Above you, the figure, who you figured was a male, was breathing hard. The hand over your mouth gripped hard, and your attempts to speak failed. In your panic, you shot webbing onto his face with your free hand and kicked him back once you got a leg up from underneath him.

Immediately once you had enough free space, you made a dash for the edge so you could jump off. Alarms went off in your mind again, making you duck in time to see a web shooting overhead at what would have been your neck. The next one, however, you couldn't dodge in time.

White webbing caught your ribs and pulled you to the man again. Before you could blink, you were wrapped in web that was holding you in all directions. You couldn't move, and your mask that protected your identity lay away from you on the ground. When you finally were still, you could see clearly who he was.

Short violet hair moved in the wind revealing a black mask with purple and blue iridescent web looking designs interlacing it. The body suit also had the same design. The person's mask ended at their hairline, letting the bangs that were there fall over it. Everyone had seen him, he was quite famous although no one knew his real identity. The savior of teyvat city, spiderman.

He ran a hand through his hair rubbing the spot that hit the wall and let out a long sigh. "I really wanted an easy night tonight..." the man ran his hands down his face and walked toward you. Without gentleness, he grabbed you face again and tilted it how he pleased.

"What the hell-do you always treat people this way?"

"Well most people I come across that have any sort of power aren't exactly wishing the city a merry Christmas."

Fair. From what you had seen, every time he made an appearance was when a supernatural threat was in the city, like that one battle with a giant lizard you saw on YouTube. You'd seen what he was capable of, and that he probably didn't have any intention other than protecting the city, so you decided to be compliant.

For a bit, he was silent. He brought a hand up that had your webbing that was on his face on it, and his silver eyes on his mask narrowed.

"I watched you swing up here from a distance before attacking you. You shot this from your wrist."

"Yeah, I'm guessing you want a backstory?"

"Normally I wouldn't care, but your web is the same make as mine. It's not coincidental." He then waved his hand for you to speak.

You simplified the story as needed in your head, and begin to tell about your spider experience.

...

You were in college enjoying your student life when it happened. With your university being so close to ILDOTTORE Inc., a lot of students came to study in the sciences, you being one of them.

In one of your leisurely afternoons at the campus park, you were sitting on a bench just looking at the wind blow through the trees when you felt a sharp pain on your hand. The pain continued to spike when you pulled your hand up and shook it. Looking at your palm, sitting there was an iridescent spider that had its fangs lodged in your skin.

It looked abnormal for sure. Its eyes were bigger and it's legs were longer. A strange symbol was marked on its back, almost like an experimental number you would put on test subjects. Without a thought you immediately slapped the spider.

When it didn't come off the first hit, you took off your shoe and pressed it to your hand, not caring about the dirt because the bite hurt. When you got the spider off your hand, you relaxed thinking you'd definitely killed it.

Feeling something moving on your thigh, you looked down and jumped from your sitting position with your hand swatting at your thigh. The spider, with one less leg now, was crawling up your leg until you swat it off.

"Oh hell no, die hoe." You took the shoe that was still off and put it quickly back on your foot. As the spider was speeding away, you chased it a couple of steps from the bench and stomped on it like you'd never put your foot on the ground before. After twisting your foot back and forth on the spider, you took your shoe off an examined if it was really dead.

It twitched only once even though it was completely crushed, but that was enough to smush it again until you were only looking at a black smudge on the concrete path.

Ever since that day, you had to stay in your apartment with a sick excuse because of the changes your body was undergoing. The pain was blaring. Your hands would stick to things randomly, and your vision would shift from regular to being able to see through walls. You felt feather light, could move faster, and jump higher.

The strangest parts were the fact that you could shoot webbing from openings in your wrists, and that you would get a strange feeling when something was about to happen. Your reaction time had heightened and your body molded itself into being fitter.

After days of change and determining that the spider gave you those powers, you found ways to control your new abilities. You even made yourself a suit from your webbing. After school days, you would practice in a remote alleyway what all you could do. Swinging around and climbing walls wasn't as hard as you thought. Watching videos of Spider-Man's fights also gave you some tips on how to move well. You were around one month into your new experience before this incident.

...

"So that's where it went...And you made sure 100% that you killed the spider?"

"The only thing left was a blot on the ground. Pretty sure it's dead."

"Great. My two problems have been cut to one."

You wondered if the problem he was referring to was you and the spider. You were correct.

"So can you let me out now?" You wiggled the only movable thing your body, which was your hands. Spider-Man laughed sarcastically and stepped backwards to sit onto the edge of the building. The wind picked up swaying his hair, and his eye pieces on his mask moved in a gleeful expression that you knew had a teasing glint in them.

"Nah, you can get out yourself. You're the same as me right?"

The same? You huffed and looked around you spotting the places his web connected to other structures that held you in place. Angling your hands in the direction of the connection, you shot a web and held on to the end. Your web connected to the place his was stuck on and you pulled with your hand as far away as you could.

His web snapped off, letting one arm loose. From there you broke yourself free from all the webbing. Walking with your back turned to him, you picked your mask up off the ground, moved your hair out of your face, and put it back on.

Suddenly, you felt a web come in contact with your back. Turning around, you saw that spiderman wasn't there anymore. A long web was quickly sliding down off the edge, and you noticed too late that the web was connected to you.

With a scream, you were yanked forward and launched off the building. Looking down, you spotted Spider-Man diving down with the web that held you in one of his hands. When his fall had reached around half of the buildings height, we shot a web from his free hand and began a swing.

"You better shoot a web, I'm gonna let go!" Although most of his words got lost in the wind, you got the message. As soon as you shot a string, the web on your back became loose. You quickly yanked it off your back and swung with your other hand to catch up to him.

You synced up your swing timing to match his, but as soon as you did he changed direction. you caught up to him stopping on a building top where he hung off the side waiting for you.

"You're slow." Indigo hair blew in the wind and his head tilted. His arm hung out in the wind beside him while he held onto the edge with his other.

"Well maybe I would have caught up faster if someone didn't pull me off the tallest building in the city. Secondly, I'm still knew to this whole thing." You landed a bit below him with a web holding you to the building. The man above you laughed and spoke in a haughty tone,

"all you have to do is keep your pretty eyes open, and try not to fall behind." His hand left the edge letting gravity take him. Diving after him, you followed him through narrow alleyways and under highways. It was hard to see him because his suit was so dark, but the iridescent colors on his chest guided you.

You didn't know why you were following him, or better yet why he was indirectly telling you to. Chasing him around in sporadic movements soon became easier. It almost felt like he was training you.

At one point, he disappeared from your vision. Coming to a stop in a dark street where no cars were coming, you looked around. A sharp zing went off in your head, making you turn around in time to see a web come in contact with your face. The mask attached came off and your hand shot up to cover your face.

"Hey! You don't know who's around here, and there may be cameras in this area!" You yelled out in the direction the web came from with your hands over your whole face.

"If you can't block a simple thing like that, and by the way that wasn't even an attack, you're not going to survive fights or the media." A sultry voice spoke near your left ear.

You turned pretending to not be surprised by his sudden closeness. "What are you even talking about-"

"You think you can go back to normal society with these powers? You're already all over the media from swinging around tonight with me."

Spider-Man shoved your mask on your hands that cover yourself and you quickly put the mask back on. When you remove your hands, the first thing you see is a phone screen reading,

Another spider joins Spider-Man? Two swinging figures seen around teyvat city tonight, watch the video footage!

With narrowed 'I'm-not-having-it' eyes, you looked at him behind the phone, "you did this on purpose didn't you."

"The point is, you're now obligated to protecting the city whether you want to or not. It would be better if I trained you so you don't end up wasting your abilities by dying early."

My gods. Everything was happening so fast. Your hand came up to rub your temple through the mask because of the headache that rose.

Your hands went out in a calm down motion. "Ok ok give me a minute. I'm in college and I do have a lot of time, but how am I going to balance these two things? And how on earth are we going to meet up, to quote you, train?"

"Well I make it work with my classes. We can set a schedule for you to meet me at the building we first came in contact."

You mean the place you nearly busted my head open you thought to yourself before you caught an important detail in his words.

"You're in college?" You pause and look at Spider-Man who has his arms crossed. Silence before he spoke,

"No-"

"Oh wow you're younger than everyone thinks. I thought you were like 30 or something."

"Do I sound anything like thirty?" He said aggravated as he shot another web in your face making you take a couple steps back and struggle to get it off.

From that spot, you both worked out a plan to meet up three times a week on the tallest building roof. The first few weeks were rough, and they made you realize how tasking his job was. His training was rigorous, but you caught on fairly well. There were a couple times you went to grab his mask in hand to hand combat, only for you to fail and for him to flick your forehead. You tried making conversation, to which he didn't necessarily ignore you, but he kept his answers short and vague.

"So what major are you in since you won't answer which college you're at?" You poked his shoulder from where you were both sitting on the edge of the building.

"I'm an art student..."

"Actually?" You leaned forward and peered into the eyes on his mask. He nodded and went on staring out at the city. "What kind of medium do you like to use?"

"Charcoal most of the time. Occasional graphite or spray paint."

"I'll have to see some of your work sometime when we're not training. I really enjoy art."

"hmm..."

Over the next few times you two met, Spider-Man would let himself be more carefree with you in your now frequent conversations after training on top of the building. On one of your more tiring training sessions, a thought came into your head. This is merely training, what about real fights. Getting beaten and bruised with the media filming all of it. Was it ever lonely or stressful all by himself?

When you both sat down on the edge, you asked the question.

"It is lonely, being the only one in this position? Saving the city all by yourself?"

"It...was lonely, but now I'm too preoccupied dealing with your annoying ass to be like that."

"Aww, did my 'annoying ass' fill the void in your heart?" You exaggerated the last bit and poked his shoulder.

"Pshh." He pushed your poking hand off of him and tried to shoot a web at you again, but you dodged it. When his hand shot the web, you took the opportunity to try to grab his mask again. It had honestly become a thing to tease him with.

This time however, was different. He just seemed to sit there and let your hand wrap around the edges of his mask, taking it off and exposing his face. His hair whipped around in the wind, the violet bangs brushing his forehead. Long eyelashes and eyes that blinked slowly, almost teasingly so. His irises, like the color on his suit, but with depth and a color you could only describe as mesmerizing. Skin soft and a rosy pair of lips that parted slightly as you took the mask away. You almost reached out to touch him.

"Your eye pieces are wide open, what's the matter~?" His hand extends a bit and closes your slightly open mouth. He doesn't even bother to take the mask back from you, and instead just leans back on the ledge and throws his head back. Adam's apple moving as he swallows slightly.

"Uh-" you cleared your throat and tried looking at him again to speak, but when you did his eyes were locked with yours making your lungs close up.

"Scaramouche."

His voice brought you back. "What? Like Bohemian rhapso-"

"My name dumbass. You can use that instead of Spider-Man. Of course, not in public..."

You took off your own mask and set it beside his that now lay between you both. The wind felt good on your face, you hadn't taken it off in a while up there. There was a silence that hung from that point. You both rested there in your seated positions, and scaramouche could have sworn he heard you try out his name on your tongue.

...

The next month was peaceful. Winter break had begun, so you were able to rest at your apartment and spend more time with scaramouche. He actually started letting you into his life. You learned where he went to college and got to see a lot of his art projects in his own living space, although he kept some of them hidden from you for reasons unknown to you. Of course, you couldn't leave him alone about them and would always be trying to search for them when he wasn't looking.

"Hey, what do you say to getting a drink at- what the hell do you have in your hand?"

You stood there at his sketching desk, with papers that made your eyes wide. On the parchment, were graphite sketches of...you. The way the details on your face were so accurate made you blush furiously. All those times he would just seem to stare at you when your mask was off, was he looking so intently so he could draw you? The answer was right in front of your face.

Gods you were in deep. Not only did you develop feelings for him when you started training, but seeing this made you realize it was probably not one-sided.

Quick footsteps came behind you and a hand reached out to take the papers from you. Turning to him, you were surprised to see scaramouche's face close to yours with glaring eyes and a red that reached his ears.

"Did I not say that you weren't allowed to see those?"

Nothing came out your mouth. Your lips only parted to try and give an apology, and you didn't miss the way his eyes flicked down to your parted mouth. His eyes said so much, but you could see there was a fear in them as well.

...

After that incident, not much was said between you. The very next day you met on the tallest building once more. It was the day that you two would spar, like every other time right?

Wrong. You were both distracted. Every grab on your arm shot electricity through your soul, more than before. The same could be said for him. The distraction caused an accidental blow to the face, which knocked your mask off.

"Ah shit, are you al-" his voice cut short. You were leaning back against the wall behind you that he first encountered you on. Your chest was heaving and visible breath from the temperature came from your mouth. You looked too good to him in that moment, so he let his desires take over.

"Yeah I'm good...it just knocked my mask off-" a strong grip pushed you against the wall.

"Hey what-" Looking up at him, you saw his hand reach up and rip off his mask, his violet hair messily flowing around. He threw it to the floor before grabbing your face and smashing his lips on yours.

Your hands instinctively grabbed his suit turtleneck collar and pulled him into you. He wasted no time pushing his tongue past your lips and putting his body flush against yours. Surprised sounds left you as you could barely breath. He was desperate, hungry, and could no longer hold himself back.

The drawings were his only cope to deal with the feelings. Gods he was scared, scared that you would want to end the whole partner thing if you knew. Now all those doubts dissipated when he felt you meld your lips back with his when he tried to part your mouths.

Hands ran down your ribs and to your waist. His fingers were gripping you with need, and his mouth kissed you with abandon. Scaramouche never wanted to take his lips of yours, not after he'd waited so long gazing at you, watching the way you tried to do what he did, and feeling your covered skin when you fought.

Neither of you needed to breathe. You believed you could be sustained solely by each other's lips.

Only after several minutes of pure bliss in each other's mouths did you break apart for much needed air. You gasped and panted, and scaramouche did the same. He rested his head on your shoulder in the aftermath, just feeling your warmth that enveloped him despite the cold winds.

"Want to head to my apartment? We can um...continue there if you also want to-"

"Yes.”

You blushed when his hands wrapped around you and his face turned to kiss your jaw.

"I wonder if the media would like to know that Spider-Man is a romantic."

"Shut up..." He gave a slight laugh and slowly drew away from you. His eyes were clearly glazed over with a need for more, but he'd save it for when you were both warmer in your home. After picking up your masks off the ground, you both quickly made your way to your home where you couldn't stop scaramouche from starting to kiss your nape and skin before you even got into your apartment room.

[lovemyromance]

what's your favorite elriel theory

I'm being petty, but I think that Azriel was always destined to be for Elain. Like yes, I think it's so powerful that Elain & Azriel might end up choosing each other over a mating bond -

But I also think there's enough textual evidence to support that Azriel has shown more mate behavior towards Elain than her actual mate.

I know this sounds crazy, but while I believe Elain & Azriel will choose each other FIRST, I still think SJM won't be able to resist and will reveal Elain to either have TWO mating bonds (one blessed by the Mother -> Azriel, and one from the Cauldron -> Lucien), or the mating bond with Lucien is fabricated (a la Maeve in TOG) and Elain's real mate is Azriel.

I think Azriel was slowly dying from the poison/faebane in ACOMAF when Elain was thrown into the Cauldron. He did cry out when she got thrown in – which Feyre thought was from the poison – but what if even Feyre misunderstood? What if he was crying out for Elain - not because of the poison?

He has always been soft with Elain. Even Rhys hasn't bothered to act differently around Feyre's sisters – but Azriel immediately went into gentleman mode around Elain. She had the man reciting poetry at their very first meeting, for god's sake. I think they've always had a connection. Elain might not have been able to put a name on it because she was human – but Azriel must've had some indication.

And then the tiff with Hybern happened.

Azriel was on the brink of death - but he cried out when the King instructed his men to throw Elain in first. And then suddenly, Elain is fae. But before anyone can even blink, Lucien swoops in and claims her.

Now if I were Azriel - I'd be HELLA doubting myself at this time. Because if I had felt a mating bond with a human, who knows if that was even possible? What could it be that I'm feeling, then? And then when that human I share a connection with suddenly becomes fae - but she's immediately "given to another" that doubt comes in FULL FORCE.

It makes perfect sense that Azriel is so hesitant to act on his feelings for Elain. The mating bond is the most sacred thing in their world. Azriel essentially has to say "Fuck your mating bond, I think my connection with her is stronger". Why would he do that before he knew Elain even wanted him back? Why would he fantasize about a future together if he didn't even think she would choose him over a mate?

This man is full of so much self doubt, and unfortunately, his logic tracks. Like the way he is - makes sense. The angst, the self-hatred, the guilt he carries around -> All of this only serves as a barrier to his love with Elain, not just Rhys.

This is a couple that has been set up for an EPIC love story. And after the hard and fast narrative of ACOSF....An Elriel slow, romantic, angst-riddled forbidden love story is exactly what we need.

[emmmaa4]

I don’t know if you do male reader! But if you can please do make it that and if not do gender neutral.

Buttttt I would love a fic where Male reader just puts Jimmy (mouthwashing) in his place, just fucks the shit out of him really, give him a taste of his own medicine kind of thing, just rough sex.

I’ve love your work, and your writing is so amazing!! Take your time please if you do my ask 😭🙏

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for this proposal and for your words. I hope you and others like this fic. 💙

Male!Reader x Jimmy (mouthwashing)

⚠️ TW: NSFW, abuse, degradation..

"A taste of your own medicine"

I had entered into this 'great adventure' to feel better and to be a little more useful. I don't think I'm a bad guy, I just have a very strong sense of justice when it comes to the bad things that happen to me or, rather, to the people I like.

When one time, Anya, the Tulpar nurse had taken me alone to the infirmary, only to break down crying in front of me, almost screaming about how Jimmy had abused her, used her, as if she were just another piece of meat; something in me broke at that moment, I was furious. Even though I only tried to hug Anya and comfort her

"Please don't tell him anything! He'll kill me, I swear, he will..."

"Don't worry, I won't tell him anything, I promise Anya."

Of course that was a complete lie but honestly, I didn't want her to worry anymore. Curly was a corpse that could barely breathe, Swansea and Daisuke were just trying to do what they could to keep going; and on top of that, this idiot, in the end, ends up getting away with it like a slippery worm in the mud.

So, I just didn't think about it, I didn't want to think about it. Do I really have to think about it at this point when we're all about to die?! I don't think so. I looked for Jimmy, and I found him, he was almost hiding (so to speak), he was in the console room, this room was full of that white foam shit, Jimmy looked upset; I went in, closed the door behind me, the room was red because of the lights.

"You?! Get out of here, I'm making a plan because of your fault, because of Curl-"

He spat out his filthy words, thank god I'm a bit taller than him and fast too, I quickly punched him in the face, sending him crashing to the ground, the metal making a giant clatter. Jimmy gasped, his face scrunching up in anger, already getting up as he staggered to punch me. I grabbed him by his overalls, "Oh, don't you think you can, you little shit" - I quickly tackled him back onto the metal floor, chest face down, being crushed by my weight.

"You think you're a genius, without feeling guilty about all the things you've done?! Huh?!"

I grabbed him by his hair, lifting his head forcefully to whisper: "I'll make you taste a little of your own medicine.."

He gasped in shock, I used my hand to slam his head back into the cold ground, him gasping at the pain it caused him. I quickly tore with what I had of my strength, of my fury, his pants and pulled them down, I heard him scream beneath me but I quickly spanked him even though he had boxers on, he screamed loudly at this.

"Shhh... You like doing this to innocent people but you don't like it when it's done to you? Crying bitch..."

I started to hit his ass more, his body responded with small spasms, he also let out small gasps at my spankings. I got closer to his face, my mouth on his ear to whisper: "If you try to escape, I'll kill you."

I let go of Jimmy's hair, for a second I thought I saw tears in his psycho eyes as I got a little closer, I could only smile at the thought. I positioned myself behind him to tear the fabric of his boxers, his ass was already red; I couldn't help but bite my lower lip furiously, seeing so much pain from someone who had caused that same pain.

I started to hit him more, his ass turning a painful red, I heard Jimmy let out a scream out of nowhere causing me to quickly squeeze his ass with my big hands: "Shut up, you didn't let her scream, why I would let you then? Get your ass up."

Jimmy's hips shook but he still tried to lift them as best he could, I saw him turn his head slightly to the right to see me behind him, I saw a small dry tear come out of his eye. I would lower the zipper of my jumpsuit to take it off below my hips and take out my cock, resting it between Jimmy's two red and sore buttocks, he would jump when he felt it: "Oh, is the abuser sensitive?" I said with pure sarcasm, he dedicated himself to sticking his face to the floor. My cock began to harden, leaving pre-cum at the entrance of his ass, I would rest the tip of my member at the entrance, I decided to take just a few seconds to tell him with a furious voice: "I hope this hurts" - I slammed my penis inside his ass completely, without gentleness, without love, only fury and revenge.

Jimmy's little screams would sound all over the room, with the red consoles and that foam around. I would hear him gasp, I don't know if it was from pain or pleasure, I didn't care; I would pull out and bury my cock against his ass while I grabbed his red buttocks to hold him even if it hurt, I would hit him from time to time, just to take out the anger I have of him ON HIM.

"Stop! Stop please!"

"Oh no... we're going to be like this until you can't move anymore."

I grabbed his hair back so I could ram him deeper, my hair disheveled from moving so much, in a harsh way I grabbed his hips and rammed one last time, my balls would pucker as I would cum inside him, even being inside, still grabbing his hair I would guide his head so he would turn to look at me, he had saliva coming out of his mouth, along with dry and new tears coming out of his tear ducts; I got closer to his ear and whispered:

"Take responsibility Jimmy."

I threw his head against the ground, leaving him lying there, as I stood up to put on my overalls without a care in the world, I walked to the metal door, before leaving I gave him one last look; lying there, panting, having small spasms, and the worst? He had cum, his semen shot in his abdomen.

[olivia-willo-w]

Random obey me NSFW Headcanon!

(Also I tried to make it gender neutral but some things are still... More F!reader. Sorry! Still testing.)

Warning! NSFW suggestions under the cut!

Lucifer:

Would most certainly either be tourturingly slow or fast as fuck.

Most likely to pound into you after a bunch of work.

Cock warming probably the thing you guys would do most often, who can resist some work sex tho?

Often or not, there's a thrill of getting caught.

Either way, he still teases you and asserts dominance.

Mammon:

Will and would mark you as his.

Would put the hickeys somewhere easy to spot, like your arms, legs face.

Would HATE it when other went up to you the next day since he would want to take care of you.

Wouldn't mind being sub but would more often pound you with reckless abandon.

Leviathan:

If we were talking usually, this bbg is a sub.

He would be blushing, moaning mess as you ride/tease/suck his cock.

Like, he would be the loudest in the house when it came to sex, and he would always ask if you and him could possibly do positions he found from manga/anime.

BUT, when he's jealous beyond repair, things are taking a 180°.

He would brand you, complain how it's not fair for others to even see you, and how you barely pay attention to him.

Would fuck you or make you ride him will grumbling and pouting.

Satan:

He has no experience whatsoever, but he has some knowledge about this from books he's read.

He usually would take it slow and steady, giving you room to adjust and get used to before he quickens the speed.

But if he's mad, he would not really give two fucks about that.

He would just go, "Strip." And more often and not do it right then and there in his room.

Obviously, if he hurt you, he would apologize non-stop afterwards.

Asmodeus:

The king has TONS, of experience as the avatar of lust.

He can take you on any furniture, any position, and any speed.

He would more often then not either video you and him making out, or if your not comfortable with that, he would fuck you in front of the mirror so you can watch your face as you moan in pleasure.

Often or not he would be always asking if today's the day, or if you guys could go again.

It's not likely you would get hurt when it comes with him and sex. He has a LOT of experience in this.

Beelzebub:

At first, he's a little confused, so... You kind of have to make some of his innocence go away by explaining.

After you explain, he understands and nods, asking if that's what you want he can try his best.

Mostly, he would be eating you out to satisfy his hunger and taste you.

But, on the rare occasions he's not eating you out, he could be slamming his cock into you, slowly but brutally.

Belphegor:

As the smart but lazy person he is, he would always make you ride him.

He wouldn't care if you do it in his sleep, as long as he feeling the jolts of pleasure.

Most of the time, he would be drawing lazy patterns on your thigh as you ride him.

There are occasions where Lucifer makes him so angry, he just has to release it.

And when he does release that anger, like Satan, it would mostly be brutal fucking.

He would just fuck you fast and hard without stopping for awhile, muttering curses under his breath about Lucifer.

When he's done, hell just fall on top of you and take a nap, he needs one!

That's it! Hope you enjoyed! This is honestly my first time writing NSFW sooo... Enjoy!

[this-is-not-a-slow-burn]

This post from the artist, written in 2013, has some very good points.

It’s been many years since I published this, my first poster, in 1965. That’s when my friend Richard Fahrner and I would listen to the depressing news about the escalating ‘Viet Nam War’ while on our way to work at Contact Printing in San Francisco. We didn’t like to hear how our America was getting ever deeper into the deadly quagmire of far off Viet Nam’s civil war. One morning while driving to work I suddenly visualized a jarring poster idea – our flag superimposed with a nazi-style swastika. So shocking it was instantly instructive! Richard was enthused too so after some more discussion among other friends as well I then went on to create this intentionally disturbing self published poster. When I first laid it out and took it to West Coast Lithograph to have it printed; I showed it first to Ivor Powell, the jocular, quick witted English pressman – a man who enjoyed sharing his opinions. When he looked at my design his usual smile faded fast and he said something like this: ‘Wow - Wes you’d better add something else - like maybe “Are We Next?” – or most people just won’t get it!’ My original design contained only the words “Be Aware. However it didn’t take long for me to realize that Ivor had made a very important point. So after those words were added to the artwork I had several hundred posters printed. I then distributed and sold many of them to appreciative Bay Area folks. Back in 1965 when the official U. S. commitment was to further expand the American military role in the ‘police action’ of South Viet Nam I felt it was an important question – and had to be asked. I’m glad I did something to significantly express my shock and anguish as an American about such an obviously erroneous and costly ethical ‘mistake’ as was the Viet Nam War. Today however we have been attacked by ultra-cunning and ruthless terrorists and in response to that horribly destructive day our government was forced to suddenly power up our national security agencies like never before. However, the ‘facts’ about weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, that were so widely believed, have now been wholly discredited for all to see. Because of that ‘mistake’ we too rapidly invaded Iraq without thoroughly working out both a military plan and the fuller use of the many normal diplomatic protocols which are so useful in less stressful times such as was done prior to the Gulf War. Such haste has also raised ‘constitutional issues’ about “rights” here at home. Because more practical protocols as well as United Nations involvement were employed and respected by the first President Bush – we gathered a whole spectrum of willing allies who come to our aid in freeing Kuwait using multinational forces. Consequently, due in large part to ‘haste makes waste’ we are now deeply involved in the wasteful horrors of another costly ‘mistake’ - the current Iraq War. However, despite not yet knowing fully just how this all could have happened – we are at war inside Iraq. The Iraq situation is different from Viet Nam and we should strive to leave in grace and avoid the ‘dropping everything and running.’ It seems to me that since we don’t know just how all ‘this difficulty’ came about - the question “Are We Next?” still applies. And, as it relates to continuing the grand open and fair ideals plus continuing on in the hopes and practices of our Democratic Republic – this notable admonition continues for all Americans as well - “Be Aware!”

1965, Wes Wilson

[balkanradfem]

So, if you all remember the broken-bones lady and the horrible male, I still visit them pretty often! The woman is still recovering, and there's a lot of chores she can't do, I come by to do her shopping, cleaning, moving things around, and sometimes meal prep.

However, a week ago when I went I had ended up in an argument with the horrible male. I wanted to write about it, but the subject was so controversial I got scared that half of you would get mad at me, so I gave up on sharing it. But during that argument, I crossed the line of what a woman is allowed to say to a male, and I said something that then let him know I find myself smarter than him (which I do), and this shocked and infuriated him. He started to openly despise me.

Since then he couldn't look at me or talk to me, he would avert his eyes away from me, and sometimes criticize me on completely inane stuff (you're making too much noise putting the dishes away). I didn't mind that he finally openly hates me, because at least that's honest.

However today I went over to clean, and things took a different turn. I happened to miss a spot while cleaning, and the woman told me he demanded for me to come back and clean it – and I did, happily, saying something like 'oh I didn't see that!' while being perfectly friendly and happy to fix it. I was alone in the room with him. He started on me then. He told me I was being careless, doing worse job every time. That this was only one of my many mistakes and she, his wife, was just too polite to call me out on it. But he would call me out on it every time.

I just laughed him off and said something along the lines of 'Yeah the older I am the more I suck at this! :) you can tell me if I do something wrong sure!' because I refuse to be unnerved by the bullshit criticism, I didn't particularly care if I did a bad job because missing a spot on the floor is so non-consequential – and I immediately fixed it.

But I was starting to feel uncomfortable in there, and I noticed he waited to be alone in a room with me in order to start on me, and I thought, I'm gonna snitch on him. I'm gonna subtly tell his wife what he did. And I went to her with a smile saying 'Hey your husband is mad at me because I do such a bad job! He told me I'm getting worse and making so many mistakes, and you're just too polite to say so.' and she was stunned and then told me the part I didn't know – he intentionally left some trash in the corner under the curtain where I wouldn't see it, in order for me to miss it, so he could call me out on it! And I'm realizing then, that this was a setup, he wanted to get a chance to berate me, and knew I would miss that spot – because it's a place where vacuum cleaner can't reach, so I only clean it every other time, and this time I didn't.

She then told me that it's not about me, he's lately short and difficult with everyone, even she is having problems with him. She explained to me that it's not his fault, it's just that he's sick and she doesn't know what to do. She begged me not to be mad at him.

And I reassured her not to worry, stroked her back as she told me teary eyed about how she struggles to deal with him almost every day. I was pained by the fact that this woman is in an abusive marriage right now and the only thing she's worried about is the opinion of outsiders, of me. It was more serious than I thought, I thought he just hated me, but he hated her too. And she was heartbroken. She insisted he used to be a good m*n, that this was not 'the real him'.

I decided to be more cautious, and to consult with her before saying anything to him at any point, because if I set him off, it's likely she'll be paying the price for it. This became a hostage situation so fast! A moment earlier I was just annoyed that he's hateful to me, but now I have to worry about what he's going to do to his own wife if I dare to argue with him.

I'm again, so tired of the world males have built where they can just do this, and I can't do anything to stop it, or to even say what I want to say without worrying what's going to happen next. That's an insane way to be expected to live! I want to move away from this city and live in nature so badly right now, where I don't have to be involved in this kind of horror. Death to all males who take their shit out on their wives.

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Interloper [Part 2]

Beetlejuice x Reader

Summary: Taking place directly after part 1, Beetlejuice and the Reader come to an agreement.

Part 1 // Part 1.5 <- ->

CW: BJ being a perv of course,

~~~

“Oh my God— You’re real! Like a really real ghost- demon?— poltergeist?”

“I can be whatever you want, babes,” he smiled a gnarly grin at you. Rotten teeth decorating his mouth and cracked lips.

“The lady on TV isn’t a con artist… it’s all been true— HAH! Suck on that, mom!” You pointed into the air. The shock of what was happening suddenly washed over you. Realizing you were genuinely in presence of something no longer alive. And he had been messing with you ever since you moved in.

“So, it’s been you this entire time? I haven’t been losing my mind?”

“Ah— of course not. I couldn’t resist getting the attention of a pretty young thing like you,” he magically had a bouquet of dead flowers in his hand, offering it out to you. You raised a brow, taking the flora from him.

He walked over to your dresser, immediately opening your panty drawer and prowling through it. Droning on as he went through your private clothing, “So I guess this means you’re interested in the Ole Juicester. You sure did sound awfully pretty saying my name three times like that— sorry, gotta grab another one of these,” he held up a pair of your panties, “My other ones got used if you know what I mean— *snort*”

You stomped over, grabbing his arms from your drawer and pulling him away. “You don’t get to just go through my shit because you want to!” He held his hands in front of him in a surrender position. Soft expression looking like you just kicked a puppy.

“Oh come on, babes! You were practically begging for me just a few seconds ago,” he folded his arms over his chest.

“You— you literally wrote your name out in front of me to read it! It’s not like I knew who you were! Some pervert who reeks of dirt!” You gestured your hand up and down at his dirty clothing. Beetlejuice lifted his coat sniffing at his armpits, jokingly scrunching his face in response.

You picked up the paper from earlier. Staring at the picture of the man in front of you sprawled out on a heart shaped bed. Never expecting that he would genuinely appear in front of you.

“So if saying your name three times summons you… does it also make you leave?” You cocked an eyebrow.

His expression dropped. Eyes widening and mouth hanging open slightly. “Oh— you don’t need to worry about all that,” he ripped the flyer from your hands. Ripping it into a million shreds comically fast.

“Betelgeuse—“

“No-NOPE,” he snapped his fingers. A padlock appeared over your mouth. Frustrating you as you clawed to get it off. “Please, I’ll be good,” he fell to his knees with his hands clasped together, walking over to you on them, “Just let me stay. I won’t cause no trouble. I’ll even keep any creeps away from bothering you!”

“You are the creep bothering me,” you thought unable to speak.

“You just can’t be throwing my name around like that,” he softly took one of your hands in his. Petting at your warm flesh, noticing how cold his was in comparison. You blushed at his tender gesture. Fighting off the soft spot you were already forming for him.

You locked eyes with him. Giant blue orbs stared up at you. Pleading for your sympathy. You rolled your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose unable to believe you were about to agree to this. You nodded your head at him.

“Promise?” He pointed at you.

You nodded again.

“Oh! I knew you’d come around, doll! We’re gonna have some fun together you and I—“ he snapped his fingers.

Your fingers flattened against your mouth, taking a deep breath when you realized your mouth was free again. You held your finger up to him, shaking it back and forth to stop his monologue. “Not too fast. If you’re going to stay here, you’re going to put in your fair share,” you held your finger in front of his face.

Beetlejuice pulled his pockets inside out. Some bugs, dirt, and an old condom wrapper fell out of them. Noticing a cartoon-like fly buzzing out of one of them too. “Uh. I don’t have any funds, hun,” he snickered up at you.

“You can use a broom,” you began walking away from him.

You heard him groan and stomp his food behind you.

“Betel—“

“OKAY! Okay— gotta be careful throwing those around, babes,” he ran up behind you. Following closely as you showed him around the house. Arms crossed over his chest as he was disinterested in what you had to say. Already pretty familiar with your home. You snapped your fingers in his face to get his attention.

“I expect you to help me around the house since you’ll be living here rent free. And you have to stay out of sight when I bring people over. No afterlife nonsense. I don’t want you scaring all my friends off,” you closed the laundry room door behind you. Sitting at the counter of your island. Flopping over into your arms.

He was infatuated by you. He had been pining for you for months now. And now here you were. Allowing him to move in with you. He could not focus on anything except that you were right in front of him. Seeing him. Not running away.

“Do we have a deal?” You pulled him out of his daze. Extending your hand so you could shake on it.

Beetlejuice smirked. Rotten, disgusting teeth painting his smile as he gleefully shook your hand. He pulled your hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss against your flesh.

You blushed at his flirting.

“You’re not gonna regret this! I’m nothing if not a man of my word. Now— thinking of rearranging some things,” Beetlejuice turned to face your living room. Snapping his fingers and changing the layout of your entire living room. Going on about feng shui of your living quarters.

Oh, man. This was going to be a hard adjustment.

~

[END//Part 2]

// Thank you so much for reading! I look forward to continuing this series. If you want to be tagged in the future let me know! //

{tags}

@summonthewinchesters ~ @jewqueer ~ @vanessaedp ~ @catfoundfics ~ @the- -blackdahlia ~

[ghostlyglimmer]

You're Grounded Mister

Summary:

A mission gone wrong leaves the Batkids bickering—until Batman grounds them and Danny Fenton, a confused civilian caught in the chaos. This one-shot is based on this post by Shower-Phantom-Ideas

It had all gone downhill fast.

The plan had been Dick’s idea—though Tim and Jason definitely could have pointed out the glaring holes in it, and Damian hadn’t exactly offered his usual dose of cynicism. It was supposed to be a quick, in-and-out operation. Minimal risk, maximum payoff.

But things got complicated when that guy showed up. Just some kid, and not even a vigilante or a rogue. It was supposed to be a straightforward job in Gotham’s shadier district—stop the exchange of a highly dangerous chemical, break up the bad guys, be home in time for breakfast. But, no, some civilian had gotten in the way and distracted the gangsters long enough to mess with their timing.

As Jason would tell it later, “It was just bad luck.” As Bruce would say, “It was complete negligence.”

And as for Danny? Well, he didn’t have much of a say in it. Not that he was about to back down from a bunch of armed gangsters, especially with the Batkids swooping in around him, leaving chaos and knocked-out criminals in their wake. Danny had handled a few of them before they even showed up, quietly taking out the last of them when Bruce finally stepped in.

And now they were here, a tense, heated argument in a dark Gotham alley.

“You should have waited for backup!” Bruce snapped, his voice slicing through their squabbles. “I told you it was a risk to go in alone—especially when we didn’t have all the intel! This is about safety, and clearly—”

“Right, clearly we were fine until you stepped in,” Jason shot back, scowling.

“It would have gone smoothly if someone didn’t just happen to be there,” Dick muttered, clearly feeling defensive.

“It was your idea, Grayson!” Tim hissed, his voice laden with frustration. “Don’t turn this around.”

“Maybe if you’d listened—”

Damian scoffed. “I could have handled them on my own.”

Bruce’s frown deepened, and he turned to Danny, who was awkwardly inching his way toward the exit.

“And don’t think you’re getting out of this,” Bruce said, turning his Batglare on him. “You’re grounded too.”

Danny froze, one foot halfway lifted in a tippy-toe pose. “I… I’m sorry, what?”

The Batkids stopped mid-argument and looked at Danny, then back at Bruce, then at each other, as if piecing something together. Dick’s face morphed from irritation to confusion; Jason’s went slack.

“Uh… Mr. Batman, sir, with all due respect, I’m just some guy,” Danny said slowly, staring at Bruce. “Can… Can Batman even do that?”

“Everyone in the Batmobile,” Bruce said firmly, ignoring Danny’s question. “We’ll discuss this further in the morning.”

Danny, still too stunned to process much beyond “Batman grounded me,” felt himself nodding along. Guess we’re going with it.

The ride was silent and tense. Jason looked broody, arms crossed, staring out the window. Tim rubbed his temples, probably rethinking every tactical choice. Dick was sulking, and Damian, surprisingly, just looked mad at being lumped in with the others. Danny, meanwhile, stayed very still, wedged between Tim and Jason, trying not to breathe too loudly. It was a surreal experience—he was tired, his limbs ached, and his brain was reeling from the absurdity of it all, but it was Batman. The Batmobile wasn’t exactly the place to make his objections.

By the time they reached the Batcave, Danny figured he’d try for some clarity.

“Uh,” he started, looking around at the cavernous space, vast and impressive, filled with tech and lights. “So, do you mind if I, uh, call my family to tell them I won’t be home tonight?”

The entire cave fell silent. Jason froze mid-complaint, Dick and Tim stopped sulking, and Damian’s scowl melted into shock. All four of them stared at Danny, and then slowly, like someone had hit pause, their heads turned to look at Bruce.

He seemed unbothered, glancing at Danny as if this were just standard procedure. But for everyone else, the realization was dawning. Dick was the first to speak, his voice wavering.

“Uh… Bruce?” Dick asked slowly, eyebrows raised. “Did… Did you kidnap a civilian?”

Bruce frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jason burst out laughing, doubling over, his hands clutching his sides. “Oh, this is gold. He’s not even a rogue, B. He’s just some random guy you told to get in the car!”

Danny held up his hands. “In my defense, it was Batman, okay? Who’s going to not get in the Batmobile when Batman tells you you’re grounded?”

Tim covered his face with both hands, muffling his laugh. Damian scowled, crossing his arms.

“This is embarrassing,” he muttered. “Father, you’re losing credibility by the second.”

Bruce’s expression tightened, clearly irked by the fact that his kids’ attention had wandered from the initial issue. They had disobeyed him, endangered a civilian, and now they were laughing because, okay, maybe he had unintentionally forced said civilian to join them in the Batcave.

He sighed, rubbing his temples, clearly rethinking several recent decisions.

“Alright,” Bruce finally said. “My apologies. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you don’t need to be here. We’ll get you a ride back home.”

Danny blinked, a little surprised. “So, wait, I’m not grounded?”

“No, you’re not grounded,” Bruce replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jason snickered. “Damn, you got off easy. We’re grounded for sure.”

Bruce cleared his throat, and the smiles faded from the other Batkids’ faces. “Yes, you’re grounded,” he said, looking at each of them in turn. “All of you.”

They groaned in unison, but Danny, relieved beyond measure, was already edging toward the door. He nodded a quick thank you to Batman and managed a small, awkward wave to the others.

As he left, he could hear Dick muttering, “Grounded… from what? We’re grown men!”

Jason groaned. “Grounded as in, no solo missions, genius.”

Danny paused, letting the sounds of the Batfamily’s complaints echo behind him as he took the lift back to ground level. He shook his head, chuckling. Only in Gotham. Only with Batman would you end up “grounded” for just existing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But hey—at least he got a free ride in the Batmobile out of it.

[starlight-library]

Favorite Days | Multiple drivers

who's involved?: ln4, cl16, mv33, lh44, op81 & bonus

summary: a glimpse into driver's favorite thing they do with you

warning: fluff. just so much fluff.

fc: n/a

wc: 1.6k

a/n: hi! holiday season is fast upon us and so is my chaotic work schedule! with that my series: playlist series, toto concert series, and rbdhh are going to take longer for me to roll out but i have not forgotten them!

Max loves nothing than being an introvert with you. If Max could have it his way, the two of you would just stay home unless necessary. How could he not? When he’s streaming and takes a moment to turn around and see you on the couch watching TV. Jimmy and Sassy both curled up around you as you lazily pet whichever one is close. The way you’re so invested and silently reacting when you aggressively toss a hand out in shock. When you catch him staring and point to the TV as if he’s been watching the entire time seeing the same shit she is and he can’t help but smile and return to his stream. His favorite was ending stream and immediately going to you. You shift a bit to make room as Max lays on you, hugging your waist and he melts when you run your nails through his hair. How you two could stay like this for hours and be content in each other’s silence. It was pure bliss.

Lando adores game nights with you. He adores how you are so not competitive compared to him for most things. While Lando got really into games, even like Jenga, you were so nonchalant about it. You just smiled and laughed at Lando when he went on his little rants or his little gloats. He knew that you knew it wasn’t that deep. Though his favorite was you two playing ‘Overcooked’. It was the only time you got serious about a game. Suddenly you were calling the shots and now Lando was the one laughing as you yelled at him for forgetting a tomato or something. He almost fell over laughing the next time you two played and you presented two chef hats and told him you were giving him some ‘call out lessons’. Lando got them mixed up which resulted in him screaming from laughter as you gently smacked him with one of the pillows while shouting ‘HAVE I TAUGHT YOU NOTHING?’ It’s his favorite side of you during game night for sure.

Charles enjoys going on side quests with you. Charles really did try to balance his work and home life and he thought that he did well. Yet according to some of his ex’s they can’t handle all these random “side-quests” he takes (though he always made it a point to tell them). Yet, you are the complete opposite of them. You absolutely adored the random side quests Charles got to go on and was ecstatic when you got to join him because that meant more side-quests. You two getting lost to one restaurant and finding a cute ma and pop shop. Sometimes you guys would plan to hit a bar and end up outside, eating ice-cream, just people watching. Sometimes you two would just go out to walk and see where the day would take you guys. You were so easy going and just enjoying quality time with Charles that it was a breath of fresh air that he could be himself.

Lewis loves to spend a night in and cook with you because you always kept it interesting. The first time Lewis had ever cooked with you was in Brazil when he brought you to his house. You had insisted you wanted to help him cook and he let it. He had looked away for two seconds and whipped around to a very small fire starting on the pasta. You two swiftly put it out and Lewis couldn’t help the laugh as you apologize profusely. He reassured you that he is not upset or laughing at you but he’s laughing at the sheer shock of the situation. Lewis thought it was a fluke but realized the longer you two date that this is just you cooking. He found it both amazingly scary but truly enduring at your ability to take a simple dish and create some chaos about it. Though Lewis has now found peace in the chaos and laughter that followed along with the ‘how did you manage this?!’ ‘i don’t know this is a first!’ conversation.

Oscar finds the most mundane things exciting when you’re with him. Shopping his favorite thing to do with you. Typically, Oscar is in and out with the bare necessities for him to survive until another race weekend and only doubles during breaks. Though when you join him, shopping becomes the most interesting thing ever. It always starts with iced coffee and ‘we’re only buying what we need’ though you both know that’s far from the truth. He just happily pushes the cart as you walk up and down every aisle. Stopping to sniff the candles before getting both because it’s a ‘little treat’ and the ‘sale is too good to pass up’ (as if you were paying). He lets you pick out matching pajamas, board games, all the snacks and drinks. Oscar happily pays for everything and helps you load the car up and unload the car before you two are in your own little world for days on end.

Bonus!

Logan loves amusement parks at heart and it was bonus that you also love amusement parks. The two of you always made it a point to see if there was an amusement park nearby the hotel or track when he was in F1 and go check it out. When Logan was let go, he was absolutely devastated and really didn’t want to do anything. Though, when you mention that you’ve never been to Universal, Logan is rolling out of bed rambling bout how his parents had just renewed the family annual passes. Logan seemed to come to life after parking and making his way up the escalator with you and walking into the City Walk. The two of you went into Island’s first to some rides. You deemed the ‘Cat In The Hat’ ride was the weirdest ride you’ve done yet but overall, 9.5/10. You two then hopped over to Hollywood studios where you experienced the joy that is ‘The Mummy’. You two had a dance party in Spongebob’s shop under the pineapple (that you two were a little big for but still fit comfortably) before ending it with some Fat Tuesday’s and Voodoo Donuts. It seems that Logan can never have a bad day when he’s at an amusement park, sharing the joys of memories with you as he steps back, looking at all the photos he paid for from the rides smiling to himself.

Mick loves a good snow day. The days where there’s too much snow so everyone stays home. He loves making a cup of hot chocolate and just looking at the snow enjoying the quiet before you come in and gasp before disappearing. He turns seeing you come out about five minutes later, all bundled up and rushing out the door. Mick is quick to follow, bundling himself up before opening the door and getting a snowball right to the face. Mick shakes his head out before rushing you the best he can. He ends up tackling you, the two of you laughing and rolling in the snow as Nala, the Saint Bernard puppy you two had recently adopted, comes out and jumps around. She tries to eat as much snow as possible which you and Mick try to control so she’s not puking up water. The three of you (really you and Mick with Nala barking for support) make a snowman before Mick ushers you three in. Getting dried off, the three of you cuddle up under a blanket to watch movies.

Arthur loves playing music with you. Typically, Arthur is rather bashful about the music he makes as the imposter syndrome seeps in. Though when it comes to you, Arthur could sit for hours playing. His favorite is when you showed an interest in learning piano. The two of you on the piano bench, he guides your hand to the keys. Arthur rambles on about the keys and gently plays a scale before looking at you. He smiles seeing you try to intimate him, sticking his tongue out. It didn’t sound as fluid as him but you hit all the keys right. He gently places his hands over yours, guiding your hands to play the scale while murmuring about relaxing as you were so tense. It took you about three lessons to finally relax, which Arthur took as a huge win. His favorite is when he’s playing a piece and he glances over, seeing how you watch him with such a proud and loving smile. How your eyes sparkle in awe and how you whisper ‘wow’ as you watch him. He may never release his music to the public but he would gladly play all of them for you.

Toto actually quiet enjoys rainy days. He enjoys waking up to the sound of rain and watching the rain fall while he drinks his morning coffee. Typically, Toto would move as many meetings to Zoom as he could and only go into the office if necessary but there were rare days that he had nothing schedule when he wakes up to a rainy day. Now these days are his favorite because he loves watching you sleepily make coffee in one of his shirt. How you gently cradle your mug and take a sip and sigh in relief. Toto loves watching you shuffle to the living room and pick up your kindle before curling up on the couch. How you look up with a happy but sleepy smile as he sits next to you on the couch with his own coffee in the hand and blanket. Placing the blanket over both of you, Toto moved his arm as you cuddled up into his side. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, he turns the TV on, gently resting his cheek on top of your head as you two spend the morning laying around. Rainy days were truly his favorite.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Mine friendo, one, I dunno why it reblogged three times and I do not take any of that back, and two, I need your take on a Nikto kitter cause I wanna, with permission, write a piece with your au 🙏 if it's okay

Okay so, I had to wait until I got home for this but PLEASE IT'S OKAY TO WRITE FOR THIS OH MY GOSH PLEASE DO. All I ask is a tag as credit please. I mean, it's not really my au, it's just appreciated. It's not necessary. What is necessary is tagging me so I can read it! I want to read this!!!

TW: mentions of torture, violence, recovering from grievous wounds

However, your other part of your ask might lead to a bit of a tragedy. See, when Kortac created their task force of cat hybrids, they were trying to use the parts of cats that make perfect hunters to make their soldiers. Silent, fast, agile, strong, excellent eyesight under low light conditions, enhanced smell and hearing, capable of mimicry, able to endure hot and cold environments. Above all, they were to be loyal. So, they used the domestic cat to keep their soldiers domesticated enough to keep them under their thumb.

Nikto was among the first used. He was the first successful prototype. He was perfect! He was loved for his skills as a soldier, and he was loved as being an affectionate domesticated cat. Nikto was adored.

Unfortunately, KorTac had funding cuts and all the perfect soldiers they made had two choices: be let free, or be euthanized. The head of the lab was a soft-hearted man, and he insisted that the cats were to be set free. When the order went through that the cats were to be euthanized regardless, he panicked and smuggled the cats out to a city where he let them free. He begged them to forgive him as he let them go.

The cats all gathered together to face the harshness of city life. Not all of them made it, but most managed. They were homeless cats, homeless humans. They were lost and scared, but they persevered.

Eventually, some of the cats started to get adopted. Nikto watched as his brothers and sisters in arms managed to find places to stay and hide in their cat forms. He saw how wonderfully things worked out for them. Surely, he could find a happy home too, right?

So Nikto let himself be adopted by someone. He was picked up by a teenager with his friend and brought back to a shed. There, Nikto was forced to endure the worst of human behaviour.

The teens learned of a way to make money online. A strange way, but an easy way. It made good money, so they heard. It was easy, as long as you could do it.

Nikto was tortured for hours and hours in that shed. Being a stray for so long, he was too hungry and weak to be able to shift and defend himself. Instead, he was forced to endure horrors I hate to repeat.

When the teens figured that Nikto was dead, they put him in a can and kicked it over into a puddle of some leftover household acid, remains of what they'd used on him previous. Too weak to move, Nikto accepted his fate and closed his eyes.

He was woken up later by an animal trying to nibble at him. Parts of his body fell off as he heaved himself out of the puddle. He felt himself shake, he thought this was the end. But, he needed to warn the others. He couldn't let them suffer a fate like this.

Nikto hauled himself through the streets. He pushed through back alleys to get back to the city, and back to where his squad mates lived. When he arrived back, they did their best to care for him, but they didn't think Nikto would make it through the night.

But he did.

Nikto lived the next day, and then the next day, then the next and then the next day. Every day he lived was a miracle. Hutch, Roze and Askel poured their heart and souls into Nikto, and too their amazement, Nikto began to recover.

His skin started to grow back, his eyes fluttered open. His breathign relaxed, he started to talk.

And talk he did! He told them all about the humans. He warned them all. He made them all swear to protect themselves, to never let themselves fall into the wrong hands again. He made them swear to be strong, to always be healthy enough to shift into human forms. They promised, and they followed his word.

To this day, Nikto feels his heart drop when he hears someone has been adopted. He's made an initiative where each time one of their kin are adopted, another will follow them home to ensure they go to a safe home. They always make sure.

Nikto is still afraid of humans. It doesn't help that nobody really wants to adopt a cat like him... He's covered in scars now, scars that transfer to his human form. Despite how horrible he looks in his cat form, he'll stay in that form to avoid showing his human face. He's never forgotten the fear he felt when he saw his own eye staring back at him from within a fleshy socket, surrounded by redness and folds of scar tissue. He won't ever let anyone see his human face again, he swears by this.

Sometimes, someone will be foolish enough to ask Nikto if he'd consider trying to get adopted again. Nikto never says anything. He never has to. The way the whole room goes silent speaks volumes.

When he leaves them to stew in their own pity and misery, he'll think about what they said. He'll consider their words. A part of him wants to be adopted. He wants a warm, happy home. One like back at KorTac. He's been told KorTac was horrible, but when he was in the cage he had a roof over his head and three meals a day. He didn't go hungry, he didn't shiver at night. He was always safe.

Nikto, despite it all, still wants a home. Is he ready yet to find a human to trust? He doesn't know. He doesn't think he'll ever be ready, but he reminds himself that nobody is ever ready for change. It just happens. One day, a human will find him and love him for who he is, he holds onto that hope dearly.

Here's a quick ref of Nikto for you guys at home. Sadly, he can't really wear a mask in cat form, but at least he has a mask in human form. Still, despite how rough he looks, he still prefers living as a scarred cat than having to face his human form in the mirror again.

Oh, and as for the video? The one those teens made to make hundreds of thousands of dollars? The one that would make them filthy rich?

It made $97 USD.

[fancoloredglasses]

[RERUN] Gargoyles (Gettin’ medieval for the kids)

[All images are owned by Disney. Please don’t sue me]

(Thanks to Jan Schmelter)

(If you would like to see the wall of text that was the original review, you may do so here)

In the 90s, before there were a ton of cable stations devoted to cartoons and kids’ fare (The Disney Channel and Nickelodeon were it) and you could still watch a ton of cartoons between the time that kids would be coming home from school and the time parents came home from work (every TV station not affiliated with the “Big Three” (Fox was not yet the major network it is now, and its stations were often regarded as “independents” that happened to have Fox programming a few nights a week) had this format in the afternoon)

(Thanks to DuckTales Wiki)

In 1990, Disney decided to get in on this action with The Disney Afternoon, a two-hour block of cartoons using series previously aired on the Disney Channel, with such well-regarded shows as Duck Tales, Chip & Dale’s Rescue Rangers, Darkwing Duck, TaleSpin, and Goof Troop.

Then in 1994, Disney took a serious risk with its block. Instead of the kid-friendly mild adventure (and outright comedy) reruns, they premiered a show with a much darker (though still kid-friendly) tone that included characters being wounded and (gasp) killed! Needless to say, this got the immediate attention of my college-age friends and myself!

The cartoon is about a group of gargoyles (hence the series’s title) from the 10th century who, despite a symbiotic relationship with Celtic nobility (they defended the nobles’ castle at night and the humans protected them during the day when they were stone and helpless), were feared and shunned by the very humans they helped protect (almost sounds like a metaphor for racial tensions, much like the mutants in X-Men)

The clan of Gargoyles (well, the ones who the series centers on) consists of 7 warriors

...led by Goliath, the only one of them with a name (voiced by Kieth David who went on to voice Captain Anderson in the Mass Effect video game franchise)

...along with his mate (voiced by Marina Sirtis…we’ll get to her in a moment)

...his mentor (voiced by Ed Asner, who played Lou Grant on The Mary Tyler Moore Show)

...three younger warriors

...and a gargoyle-dog (dog-goyle?)

There are others, but as you’ll see they’re not that important.

When their main ally among the humans betrayed them, (though, to be fair, he was actually betraying the nobles. He assumed the invaders would leave the gargoyles alone after they won. WRONG! The invaders smashed the majority of the gargoyles while they were stone, killing them in a way that was technically kid-friendly) and the nobles blamed them for their defeat (Why? The invaders attacked during the day!) The court mage (who is known as the Magus) cursed the gargoyles to remain stone forever “until the castle rises above the clouds”. What dicks!

Fortunately, the nobles realized who really betrayed them, but unfortunately the mage could not undo the spell, so they took it upon themselves to care for the unborn gargoyle eggs as they fled (This will become important later)

Fast forward about a thousand years, when billionaire industrialist David Xanatos (voiced by Jonathan Frakes…I swear I will address this!) has the castle carefully taken down and reconstructed (making sure to use every piece) atop his skyscraper. Sure enough, this meets the conditions of the spell and the gargoyles awaken at dusk. Goliath discovers his mate was not demolished by the invaders, but was somehow still alive (after a millennium? Given Goliath’s mentor is old, they are obviously not immortal!) and told Xanatos about the spell.

As thanks, Goliath agrees to work with Xanatos, until it’s obvious that Xanatos isn’t exactly on the side of the angels.

Nor, apparently, is Goliath’s mate, who had grown more cold and ruthless (and has developed a hatred of humans) in the past thousand years (again, how? I mean, it is sorta-kinda explained in later episodes, but for now it’s a mystery). Eventually, the pair turn on the gargoyles.

(Thanks to Tooth)

About this time, Goliath meets...

...(and accidentally nearly kills) an NYPD detective named Elisa Maza.

Elisa becomes a fierce ally to the Gargoyles, eventually helping them find a new home since living over Xanatos’s roof could be hazardous to their health (and sorta-kinda becoming a mate to Goliath? Well, at least a romantic interest in a “will they/won’t they/is the biology even possible?!” kind of way)

Elisa is also inadvertently responsible for naming the rest if the Gargoyles. When she asked Goliath’s mentor what his name was, he was exasperated that humans needed to name everything, and asked if a nearby river had a name too. She replied it was the Hudson. He then threw his hands up and declared that he, too, might as well be called the Hudson, which led to the rest of the clan to choose their own names...

(Thanks to Chris bentley)

OK, time to address the Enterprise in the room. A lot of actors affiliated with Star Trek gave their voices to the series (the fact that Sirtis and Frakes played villains when so many associated them with the crew of the Enterprise-D was surreal at the very least) Every chapter in the Trek mythos to date was represented, with TNG being the most heavy.

(Brent Spiner voiced the fae known as Puck

…and LaVar Burton voiced a spider god), though there were voice actors from...

the original series (Nichelle Nichols voiced Elisa’s mother)

Deep Space Nine (Michael Dorn voiced an undead cyborg gargoyle (yes, the series had some weird characters) known as Coldstone)

Voyager (Kate Mulgrew played Xanatos’s lover’s mother,

...as well as Queen Titania of the fae)

…and even the movies! (Paul Winfield, who played the captain of the USS Reliant in Star Trek II, played a recurring role as blind man who befriends Hudson)

The show’s creator has said that, while he did cast Sirtis and Frakes for the roles, it was not originally his intent to fill the series with voices to please the Trekkies, but he did seem to favor Trek actors more as new characters were written.

Many sci-fi and (urban) fantasy tropes were visited, including time travel (again with the time-travel…however, I like how the series handled the concept: you aren’t altering the past by going back in time, events in the past happened as they did because your present self traveled to the past!)

The series was very well-written, especially for its time (X-Men showed that younger audiences could handle more mature content and could follow a continuing storyline…plus a series written as such could draw in an older demographic that could afford all the merchandising)

As always, let me know if there are any episodes you would like reviewed.