#well i sure as fuck am not going to write it so if anybody else feels inspired PLEASE DO

[tathrin]

Oh no help, why is my brain suddenly full of an RAF (or RFC) AU where Legolas is a pilot who gets the nickname “Greenleaf” because of how lightly and acrobatically he flies (and also he should probably be Irish or Scottish so the Brits can be derisive about his “more dangerous and less wise” people hmm? ooh or Indian! doesn’t really matter as long as he wears a lot of green so the nickname makes sense lmao) while Gimli was too short for the army but is a fucking amazing mechanic and basically single-handedly responsible for how amazing this unit’s planes are and how no matter how wrecked their planes are if they can get them back to base at all he can fix them, and Legolas fell in love basically the first time he saw Gimli work his miracles with that wrench and Gimli is not in love thank you, he is very very annoyed by this chipper pilot who keeps getting holes shot in his fucking wings and he definitely doesn’t like him at all and certainly doesn’t go out of his way to tinker with Legolas’s plane all the time and make sure it’s the absolute best machine in the air oh no nope definitely not dammit and he certainly doesn’t fret every time Legolas flies off into battle or comes back with his engine smoking again that fucker oh how Gimli loathes him! until one day he finally hops out of a just-barely-landed-successfully plane that is literally on fire Legolas what the fuck you idiot and oh and he stumbles what’s wrong oh no is he hurt oh no and Gimli runs over to help him up and instead they kiss right on the runway oh fuck—!

And the whole unit has been taking bets on this forever, so Commander Strider has to come break up the fistfight between Éowyn-who-definitely-isn’t-using-her-brother’s-ID-and-the-whole-unit-doesn’t-know-she’s-secretly-a-girl-NOPE and Boromir over who now owes whom money before Boromir’s little brother, the only one in the unit who hasn’t figured out that Éowyn is a girl yet, does something stupid trying to stop his brother fighting with “the fellow” he definitely doesn’t have a crush on Boromir please—!

Strider is so tired. He didn’t sign-up for herding idiots in love, he’s just trying to win the damn war, do you lads MIND???

Lord Mithrandir is sitting in his office watching the show from the window and laughing so hard, he fucking loves his deranged pilots so much. He has pulled  so many blatant cover-ups for their hijinks, and everybody in high command knows that he’s tossing aside regulations left and right, but his units are the most successful pilots in the damn skies so nobody can do anything about it dammit. (He’s also definitely in cahoots with General Galadriel, who pulls his ass out of the fire every damn time somebody tries to bestow some kind of reprimand or punishment, and who gets regular “briefings” about his pilots that absolutely aren’t just gossip in disguise, and which she certainly doesn’t pass along to her granddaughter who’s engaged to Commander Strider, who definitely isn’t royalty in disguise, nope nope and also nope.)

[starvulture]

Hiya! I'll pop a few requests in for you. Hope you have fun warming up your writing! I'm assuming you want the requests in different asks for ease of replying. :} Apologizing with a Kiss for Matt Murdock

jsyk im kind of obsessed with him so this got a little out of hand. im trying to just let the words come and not worry about editing too hard, so i hope u enjoy!!

Salty Sweet

Matt Murdock/Reader

Matt Murdock misses an important date, and it's your last straw. But he's determined to keep you around. | ao3 | divider source | request guidelines

You carefully scrape the untouched food into separate tupperwares, hot with embarrassment, frustration, and disappointment. Even your own plate only has one or two bites taken, your stomach too twisted with ugly rejection to handle anything. You slide the rest off of the first plate into the tupperware and—

The sauce fucking splashes on your shirt.

Fuck.

It’s such a small thing, but it’s such a nice shirt that you never wear. Sure, he can’t see it, but it makes you feel good and you know it’s a fabric he likes to touch. So after hours of cooking, and then more of waiting, the small splash of sauce on your front is the last straw.

The disappointed heat in your body, your face, concentrates into your eyes with laser focus.

No, no, goddamnit, you think to yourself as the tears well up. I just want to clean and… fuck!

You dump the dishes in the sink, rinsing them off haphazardly before shoving them in the dishwasher and shoving the tupperware in the fridge, slamming doors as you go. Letting it out physically keeps the tears from spilling over, but you still sniffle the whole while as you leave the kitchen and collect your things to go home.

There’s a small part of you that hopes, wishes, that he’d come in through the roof access to find you leaving. Two parallel fantasies play in your head: in one, he grovels and apologizes, breathless and desperate and you tell him to can it. In the other, he arrives bloody and beaten, apologetic, tells you how hard he tried to make it and fought to get back to you…

You pause at the door, but he still doesn’t appear. You lock it behind you when you leave, and take the subway home and try not to cry the whole way.

The floodgates do finally open when you get into your building, like your body can sense shelter in reach and has had enough of holding back. Unlocking the door through blurred vision turns out to be somewhat of a small challenge, but you get in and finally cry openly, tossing your things on the small table all the way to your room. The tears just keep coming as you discard your clothes on the floor and change into your most comfortable pajamas.

You sit and cry on the edge of bed for a while, bent over and hugging yourself. You try not to beat yourself up, but you can’t help but feel like you’re overreacting—no, you argue with yourself. This sucked. Anybody else would be upset too. This week sucked. Of course I’m as upset as I am.

And then; Well, what did you expect? Of course he didn’t show. You were dumb to think it would be different just because he promised.

Your head is aching when the tears finally start to cease and you drag yourself to the bathroom to wash your face, bracing yourself in preparation for the mirror—which shows exactly what you expected when you turn the light on. Red, swollen eyes, puffy lips, and a demeanor sadder than a cat caught in the rain.

Still, you wash your face, only half-assing half the steps. And it helps. You feel somewhat better when you tuck yourself into bed.

There is no heartbeat in his apartment. He’s late, far, far too late, and you’re long gone by now.

Matt trudges down the stairs, the pit in his stomach growing heavier with each descending step. You cooked, just like you had said you would. The meal smells delicious—his stomach growls meekly, but the sensation is soured by guilt. Fuck.

He stops at the base of the stairs, head turning to follow the smells you’ve left. The apartment, though warmer than the night he’d just come in from, is still cold. You’d left the lights off, judging by the lack of extra electrical hum, and as he approaches the kitchen he puts together that you’d cleaned after yourself. There’s a bit of sauce in the sink—ah, the dishes are in the washer—and tupperware in the fridge. Two.

You never ate.

Damn it.

He stands on the sidewalk outside your building at midnight listening to your heartbeat and debating whether or not to come up. You’re asleep, but it doesn’t sound restful. It just sounds tired.

Would you be glad to see him? Would you be angry? He’s almost certain you’ll be very, very upset with him. But… he can’t pull himself away. Waiting until morning to apologize almost seems worse than what he’s already done—what he’s already failed to do.

His mind is both trapped still in quicksand and running a thousand miles a minute, formulating an apology as he clenches his cane’s handle in both hands, his bruised knuckles stretching pale and vivid purple.

Then, he hears you shift in your bed and your breath change—you’re waking up. Rising, walking to the kitchen to get water.

His tongue flicks across the split in his lip, and the decision is made for him. He enters the building, taking stairs two at a time to get to your third floor apartment before you settle back into bed. By the time he gets there, you’re back in your bedroom but you haven’t reached your bed. So, panting and breathless and stomach about to fall out of his ass, he knocks gently.

Your steps stop. He waits, knocks again.

His heart skips a beat when you come to the door. He hears the way your heart speeds up, nervous, and the way you suck in a sharp breath.

The smell of wet salt is heavy even through the door, and when he opens his mouth to speak he can taste it.

“Sweetheart,” he says quietly through the door, breathless. “I’m– I’m so, so sorry. Please. I’m so—” he clenches his jaw, hanging his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He hears you swallow on the other side of the door.

“Please,” he begs again, his throat tight with guilt.

“You don’t look very hurt,” you whisper. Anybody else wouldn’t have been able to hear you through the door, but he knows that you know he heard you perfectly fine.

His stomach lurches. Had you been worried about him?

“There was… Sweetheart, please let me in to explain.”

You don’t respond, but you don’t tell him to fuck off either.

Stalemate.

Matt rests his forehead on the door by your peephole. “I swear, I’m so sorry sweetheart. I didn’t… I made the wrong decision tonight.”

Your jaw clenches at that. Anger.

Surprising both of you, you open the door.

“Explain,” you say.

The taste of salt hits him hard, and he can hear the way you’re trying to keep your angry breaths in check as you stand in the doorway.

“There was a bait, a decoy, they set up a fake–”

You scoff. “And you fell for it?”

“The people who told me didn’t know it was a decoy.”

You take a deep, frustrated, steadying breath. Your heart steadies and Matt knows he has his foot in the door.

“They caught me out. I couldn’t go home, they were trying to track me, and I couldn’t—”

Oh, oh no. More salt.

You wipe at your face, voice trembling, as you turn away and walk into your apartment, letting him follow after you. “I’m tired, Matt.”

He quickly steps in after you before you change your mind, closing and locking the door behind him. He discards his folded cane by the door with your shoes and coats, following after you, hands outstretched with irrepressible desire to soothe. “I know, I’m so sorry–”

“You couldn’t call? Not once? Matt, I was worried!” You turn around to face him.

He approaches you like a skittish animal, and you push his hands away halfheartedly. “I would have called if I could,” he says earnestly. “Please believe me, this isn’t what I wanted for tonight.” His hands still hover in the air in supplication.

And then the tears spill over, and he can’t stop himself from reaching out to hold you and wipe them away. He thanks God when you lean into him this time, instead of pushing him away again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, forehead to yours. “I’m sorry.”

“Something has to change, Matt,” you get out between tearful breaths. “I know this is who you are. But… but relationships—” you have to swallow, “you can’t neglect them. It’s been forever since we’ve had real time together. I don’t know if—”

“Don’t,” he whispers. “Please. I’m taking tomorrow off. Of everything. It’s just going to be about us. Okay?”

“I mean,” you hiccup. “Unless you hear something really fucked up. I don’t want you to not save people.”

He smiles, chuckles lightly. You’re joking, that’s good, but he can also tell you mean it. You want him to be who he is, just… he knows he’s been neglecting you. His priorities have been all wrong.

“Alright,” he says, thumbs smoothing across your cheeks as you look up at him. “I’m taking tomorrow off of everything, unless I hear a real, actual emergency.”

“Good,” you whisper, hands on his wrists as he cradles your face.

“I promise,” he says, face inching closer. “I’m going to make the last two months up to you.”

“You better,” you whisper, and he kisses you. His lips are soft, despite the healing split, and he kisses you so sweetly you feel as though you’ve floated off back into your dreams.

“Come on,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead after pulling back and wrapping his arms around you. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

[haveihitanerve]

The Book Game: Slugs and Chinese-

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T READ CHINESE?!?!?!

(I am working on Toby’s Pocket commentary I swear) I saw this one yesterday and its too fucking funny and also shorter so here you all are :) hope you enjoy

Tom: did anyone come to a comedy show- Audience member: *my time has come* Tom: *wait I wasn’t done with my epic monologue, its really funny I swear :(*worried that it would be boring as hell- Sam: *laughing maniacally* AJ: jesus

Aj: *opens book, stares, shock, turns to audience*

I love how the second the audience starts laughing at AJ’s shock, Tom immediately knows its because of him and cuts off to look at him. They’re so fucking cute

Luke going to inspect the book, finding nothing amiss in the title, and then exploding when he sees the writing inside- I’m having flashbacks to Lonely Planet When Europe

Luke so delighted he has to cross the stage and almost falls into Tom 🫠😭

Tom having to inspect the book too because ok now Luke has been laughing for too long and he’s curious lol

“Yeah tom you bigot!” Sam needed an excuse to join the chaos and of course, insulting tom is the way to go XD

Tom’s resigned sigh and drop of the book as AJ and Luke lose it. They delight each other so much its absolutely wonderful to see

“So lukes gonna introduce this game now-” Tom wants to be a part of the chaos XD

“Make sure its not racist okay?” Tom had to shift the attention to someone else lmaoo

I just adore how they did not, in fact, think to return the book and get one they understand because, for the bit, they know this book is best, and that they specifically made AJ keep it, because he is the chaos king and would do best by it XD

“A little knowledge…” Luke: *waiting expectantly for him to finish the sentence, then finishes it for him because the sentence in the book is not that* i love them so much omg

“OH! BAD TEMPERED THOUGHT!” LMFAOOO WHAT???

“Ooh… ohhh malice!” Sam i adore you XD

Here comes aj XD

“What does that say?” YESS AJ!!! SNEAKY CLEVER BOI!!! YES!!!

“YOU MEAN YOU DON’T READ CHINESE??!??!” BETRAYED AJ HELPPPP- his life is flashing before his eyes dude is panicking

Audience member: *frantic* my dad does! AJ: *quickly scoots further* oh!

Aj having to break for a second and just lay still as a dying slug because what even is his life XD

“Play hateful, this.” His face helpppp-

Also love how that actually worked really well in the scene???

Tom: *introducing himself into the scene, literally* Sam: *reciprocating* AJ: [desperately] does anybody else speak chinese?!?!

“It goes with high heels.” AJ needing to fold his head into his arms to laugh, Tom pausing the scene because he heard that and what, Luke laughing at AJ’s pain, and Sam trying to keep them focused XD

AJ’s little leg kicks im crying

“MAKE NO MISTAKES!!!” Tom sounds genuinely distressed lmaoo

“OOOOHHHH!” *frantically trying to find a good line comeback*

“Variation in your tactics!” Confirmed that all that matters while speaking is proper tone because that sounds withering coming from Tom, but is actually a very mild sentence lol

Aj standing and Tom genuinely surprised while Luke and Sam fake surprise XD

“THAts not FAir!” Tom’s hands shooting up in surrender and his little grin at AJ that makes AJ smile back 🫠😭

Sam: “Troublemaker!” it is true 🤷‍♂️ AJ: *flipping open his book, forgetting he doesn't speak chinese* chapter four. Brilliant words, truly eloquent aj🤧

Aj and Sam doing “and scene” in unison, every time they do it it kills me for no reason

AND SCENE

Ahhhhh that was fucking glorious. Loved every single second of it, and this means that when I finally get to go to one of their shows, I’m bringing a German book, it has been decided lol. 

Anyway hope you guys found as much enjoyment in AJ’s distress and the other guy’s mutual delight as I did, and I shall return as quickly as possible with Toby’s Secret Pocket and Jingle Boys commentary :) 

BYEBYE!!!

@snek-of-eden @dawn-speckled

[nuggeteri]

anyone else thinking about an arab/Islamic traffic series AU???? Because I sure as hell am! While I'm not muslim, I am arab, and islam is everywhere around me and I haven't seen ANYBODY represent it in the traffic Life series fandom.... so I might as well create an AU.

(There will be fully Muslim people, agnostics and atheists.)

Badboys are siblings. Growing up together, Joel and Grian were always closer, sharing perhaps problematic views in Islam. Their parents being unsupportive, they cut contact as they enter college. Jimmy, who is clueless about why, is still in contact with his brothers. While he plans on keeping contact with his parents---they don't expect him to, and, naturally, the contact starts fading away.

Jimmy goes into college and reunites with his brothers. Turns out, Grian is now atheist, while Joel is still very much a muslim. A few years later, Joel gets engaged with Lizzie, a hijabi.

Lizzie was Grians best friend growing up. And she fully believe evrrybody is capable of going to heaven even if they dont believe in Allah, because he is forgiving. she also fully believes Grian will go to hell.

Grian has been very vocal about his belief in God. Not only that he doesn't exist, but that if he did, he was a fucking asshole. That doesn't stop him from being Lizzies bestie.

going into college, Jimmy meets Tango, who is also Arabic, and soon learns that he is very very gay. He comes to Grian about his struggles---worried what that could mean about his beliefs---who tells him its fine and Joel and lizzie aren't judgmental people. Joel then proceeds to stalks Tangos socials, which tells him he is also religious, so he approves of Tango. Blablabla ranchers slow burn.

Later, when tango and Jimmy are a couple, there's this white guy with blue hair who catches their eye.

Scott is absolutely crushing hard on Jimmy, but he also knows he's Muslim sk he's kinda like im pretty sure he's not gay. But Scott is very much out as gay and lizzie doesn't seem to hate his guts so he's like eh maybe those are just stereotypes,,,,,

Then he sees Jimmy and tsngo kissing and he's like okay yeah those are definitely stereotypes but there is no way I'm able to get with them now

(He does get with them)

Im also thinking about a whole lot of small scenarios,,,, like Jimmy and tsngo teaching Scott Arabic.

And and Jimmy and Tango going to "celebrate" christmas with Scott's family.

Aid witht he fam would be AMAZING, there would be badboys, scott & lizzie, and ZITS. Zedaph woluld be the one to slay the sheep (he's not muslim. For their sake, he does say "bismillah" before killing it). Skizz inniciates prayers (he's muslim). everyone that isn't praying is preparing the sheep.

Grian and Lizzie would go on full on argument about songs. Lizzie doesn't listen to music AT ALL (except when she's at like,,, parties so.) and Lizzie is fucking HATING on lyrics. For exemple, sailor song, "I dont believe in god, but i believe that you're my savior" SHE IS HATING. Grian will be defending his songs with his heart and soul. Then Scott comes around and he's like uh,,, i kinda like that song,,, and Lizzie says "its fine ur allowed but GRIAN THOUGH--" and they fight.

so. many. possibilities. i will write thise one day, but for now, this is yours tumblr.

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 9

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of pregnancy, not edited word count: 2.1k authors note: i am back with a little less brain!! (literally) it took me a bit to start writing again cause I had some slowness on my right side so I wasn't quite up to writing. BUT i hope you guys like p9 and thank you so much for the continuous love on this story <3 the first bit is marlee's POV and after the * it's back to readers pov. hope u all like & pls lmk what you think <3

masterlist masterpost ask box

MARLEE

Marlee Jones loved her job. It was something she took pride in; helping bring new lives into the world and being there for all the mamas. Of course there were always the hard days, the days that made her hug Stella a little tighter when she got home from a shift. Her job had its ups and downs, but at the end of the day, she wouldn’t want to do anything else. 

So, her panic is warranted when she comes across a certain patient file. She wasn’t looking for it, but when her eyes caught the name and there weren’t any other people nearby, she couldn’t help herself. It’s against HIPAA, and if anybody found out, she would be fired without question but she slipped the file in between a couple others and walked to a random supply closet. She closed and locked the door behind her before pulling the file out and opening it. Her eyes quickly scanned the pages, the words Hysterical Pregnancy making her heart race. She had to double check the name on the file twice, before believing it. 

She knew that someone would notice the missing file, so she quickly found a printer and copied the pages, tucking them in her tote bag and putting the file exactly where it was. 

Nobody would know.

*

Your first instinct is to calm Marlee down. Her panicking is making you panic and at least one of you needs to keep a straight head. You’re trying to let her words sink in without letting your mind go down a rabbit hole. You need to see all the facts before letting yourself do that.

“Marlee,” you reach out to grab her shaking hands. “What happened?”

She looks up at you and takes a deep breath. “I can’t- I can’t tell you the details but she’s not pregnant. She lied, and it’s already caused so much damage between you, and Mat and Liana… and Nora.” She pulls her hands away from yours and buries her face in them.

You decide not to remind her that Mat already fucked things up before Calista dropped the baby bomb on him because she knows that. Focus on one disaster at a time. 

Calista lied about being pregnant. Mat doesn’t know this, and even if you try to tell him, you have no idea how he’ll react. Really, it’s none of your business and you can very well go on with your life because Mat has let you know loud and clear what his feelings are. He wants Calista in his life despite you not wanting her in Nora’s life. He technically has no rights, no say in what happens but when he first found out about her and asked to be in her life, you’d so desperately wanted to let him. 

“How long can she pull off this lie until he finds out the truth?” you ask quietly and she lifts her head from her hands.

“Depends,” she mumbles.

“On what?”

“How deep she has him pulled into her fantasy.”

. . .

You let Nora spend a little more time with Stella, mainly wanting her to burn as much energy from the sugar high she’s on from the ice-cream. She’s sleepy when you buckle her in her carseat and you’re pretty sure she’s asleep but she mumbles something and you look to see her looking at you with droopy eyes.

“What was that?” you ask softly.

She looks down, avoiding eye contact with you which is worrisome. 

“Do you think Mat would want to see me?” she whispers. “Without her?”

She obviously doesn’t need to clarify who she's referring to and it breaks your heart that a six-year-old has to worry about things like this. 

“I can ask,” you tell her, unsure why she wants to see him suddenly. “You don’t have to go see Mat if you don’t want to, baby.”

By now, you’re pulling into your driveway so you can turn the jeep off and turn to give her your full attention. She still won’t look at you so you reach out and tap on her leg until she looks up. 

“I want to,” she says but doesn’t elaborate so you don’t push. 

“Okay, I’ll call him tomorrow.”

She just nods and starts to unbuckle her seatbelt so you get out and help her. She doesn’t complain when you carry her inside, helping her change into pajamas and brush her teeth. When she asks if she can watch a movie before bed, you don’t have the heart to deny her, even though it’s close to her bedtime so you set her up on the couch and put her favorite movie on. She’ll be out like a light in less than twenty minutes so while you’re waiting, you grab your phone and pull up Mat’s contact. Your finger hovers over the call option but you’re not sure you want to talk to him over the phone so you go into your text messages instead. The last messages between the two of you were when you last met up and even then they were short and to the point which makes this text easily simple.

To Mat: Nora wants to see you.

You lay your phone on the counter and get a glass of water while waiting for his response. You’re unnecessarily nervous, mainly because you are expecting him to start an argument the moment you tell him that Nora doesn’t want Calista to be there. You don’t even feel comfortable letting Mat see her because of what he said, but you can’t turn her request down. Not when she was so adamant about not wanting to see him, and out of the blue deciding that she does. 

When you check on Nora while waiting for a response, she’s asleep so you pick her up and carry her to bed. You spend a minute just watching her after you’ve tucked her in. You’re desperate to see what’s going on in that little head of hers.

Just as you walk back to the kitchen, your phone buzzes and you freeze. Maybe messaging Mat tonight was a bad idea, and you should’ve just waited until tomorrow. It’s too late now though so you walk over and look to see Mat’s name and an unread message. 

From Mat: ok

From Mat: when?

It bothers you, how nonchalant he’s acting after everything that’s happened. This is about Nora though, so you take a breath and try to decide on a date.

To Mat: Sunday?

From Mat: ok

You want to scream at him and take back the offer but remind yourself again that Nora explicitly asked to see him and it’s her decision to make. 

So, you set up a place and time and tell him that she doesn’t want to see Calista. You expect him to argue, but he responds with another simple ok, and that’s that. 

. . .

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Marlee asks, crossing her arms and glaring at Mat who’s sitting on a bench at the park you agreed to meet at. The two of you are standing outside her jeep, stalling a little before going over there. 

Nora asked if Stella could come to the park too and Marlee was pulling out of her driveway before you could finish asking. You’re a little worried that she’s going to yell at Mat, but you figure with the kids there, she will contain herself unless he says something out of line.

“Nora asked to see him,” you remind her but she just grumbles something under her breath. 

You’re ready to get this over with so you open the door and let Nora and Stella climb out of the jeep. Normally, they would race to the playground but Nora is hesitating, glancing over to where Mat is. He hasn’t noticed that you’re here yet which is good, because you are about five seconds away from just putting the kids back in and driving away. 

Nora sighs quietly before walking over to Mat. You and Marlee hang back a little but Stella grabs her hand and sticks close to her. 

When Mat sees her, his face lights up and for a second, you want to forgive him so everything can go back to how it was before. You can’t though, not when what he said is still so fresh and not when you know about Calista’s lies.

“Hey peanut,” he says softly, staying seated while Nora stands in front of him, looking down and scuffing her shoe on the gravel. He looks at you when she doesn’t say anything but you just shrug even though you’re confused. You’re about to ask Nora if she wants to just go to the playground when she breaks her silence.

“Are you not my daddy?” she asks quietly and it takes you off guard. You had this conversation with her, assuring her that Calista was lying but she must want to hear it from Mat.

“What?” he asks, looking at you before turning his attention back to her.

“Calista told me that you’re not my daddy,” she says more firmly, finally looking up at him. Her arms are crossed and she’s glaring at him. You’d be impressed if you weren’t so worried about what Mat may say.

His mouth opens and closes a couple times and he looks like a fish out of water. He looks at you again, as if he’s expecting you to step in but you just raise an eyebrow at him as if to say I told you so.

“I think she was confused-” he begins to say which is absolutely the wrong thing to say because it sets Nora off. 

She stomps her foot and her glare hardens. “No! She said that mommy lied and that you’re not really my daddy. She told me that I don’t have a daddy.”

Before he can say anything, she’s storming off toward the playground, Stella chasing after her. 

“Do I need to say I told you so?” you ask sharply, now that the kids are out of hearing range.

“You just did,” he mumbles and Marlee, who has been quiet up until now, steps towards Mat.

“You’re a piece of work,” she snaps and Mat looks at her confused. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Do I need to repeat myself?” she says, and you’re more than happy to let her say what’s on her mind. 

“You’re letting your girlfriend tell your daughter that you’re not her father, and instead of comforting Nora, you’re trying to defend your girlfriend!” 

For a moment, you’re scared Marlee is going to get angry enough that she’ll tell him the truth about Calista, but she takes a deep breath and turns away to go to where the girls are playing. You watch her walk over until she reaches them before turning back to Mat. 

He’s staring at the ground and you don’t know why you’re still standing here but you guess you’re just waiting for Mat to say something.

“I fucked up,” he eventually mumbles and you scoff. 

“When did you come to that brilliant conclusion?” 

There’s the tiniest part of you that wants to bring up Calista, just to see if he’ll tell you anything but you’re not sure you’re in the mood to hear about her. Not when you know the truth. 

“Liana is mad at me,” he tells you, which is news, because you thought she was just angry at you. 

“I can’t imagine why.”

You look back at Nora, smiling when you see her laughing. She looks more like herself, rather than the gloomy kid she’s been the past couple days since she asked to see Mat. Like she got what was bothering her off her tiny shoulders. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Mat doing the same but his smile isn’t as real. If you weren’t still angry at him, you’d feel bad but you can’t let go of what he said and the fact that he tried again to defend Calista. 

“She’s a good kid,” he says softly and you hum in agreement. 

“Did you know?” he asks, “that she was going to say that?”

“No,” you tell him. It’s not a lie - she didn’t tell you why she wanted to see Mat, and you didn’t want to push. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, but you shake your head and look directly at him.

“Sorry isn’t going to fix it this time. Marlee was right, instead of apologizing to Nora, who deserves to hear that more than me, you won’t stop making excuses for Calista,” you tell him. “I don’t know what you’re expecting from Nora and I, but sorry isn’t the answer.” 

He frowns, but nods, seemingly accepting your response. You leave it at that and walk over to where Nora, Stella, and Marlee are, grinning when your daughter reaches for you. She hugs you when you pick her up and when you look back at the bench Mat was sitting at, he’s already gone.

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @teapartydreams @alilstressyandlotdepressy @keiva1000 @hischiershoe @bellstwd @alwaysclassyeagle @brrbrina @nonsensical-nonsence

@love-like-woaah @cycy9 @swift-sos

if you want to be added or taken off the tag list please let me know! & if you asked to be tagged and I didn't it's cause your @ didn't come up when i searched

[jewish-sideblog]

hey, so im Palestinian and a strong activist for my people's liberation. i wanted to ask for some info/advice on avoiding antisemitism in my activism for Palestine. im on anon bc i don't want to be called a racefaker for caring about Jewish ppl. i know antisemitism is on the rise right now (and generally over the past few years) and i want to make sure i'm not unintentionally contributing to it.

Hey there! I wanted to start by genuinely thanking you for asking this question. Partially because I don't actually get any well-intentioned or helpful questions in my inbox anymore, but also because I understand the amount of bravery it takes to reach out with a question like that at a time like this.

Next, I want to apologize to all my followers who hate long posts. Judaism is a very complicated ethnoreligious group, antisemitism is a very complicated form of bigotry, and the Israeli/Palestinian conflict is arguably the most complicated international issue that has ever existed. I'm going to try to go through everything as succinctly as possible below the cut-- I am also going to ask other Jews to contribute to and make edits to this list as needed.

And finally-- I'm writing this as though I were speaking to someone with very little knowledge of the subject. I understand that as a Palestinian, you probably know a lot about what's going on here. But I want to make sure that I'm covering bases for anybody else who might need to use this post. So if you're like, Yeah, Obviously I Knew That. Please remember that a fuckton of people on tumblr are engaging in Israeli criticism without obviously knowing that.

There are two primary forms of antisemitism in anti-Zionist spaces-- antisemitic conspiracy theory, and criticism of Israel that no other country receives. The first kind is the easiest kind to pick out, and it makes a nice bulleted list, so we'll start there.

Dual Loyalty. A global stereotype that has skyrocketed since the establishment of Israel, but it's been around for a lot longer than that. Simply put, it's the idea that Jews are more loyal to Israel (or some global secret kabal) than we are to the countries we currently reside in. With I/P, it manifests as the idea that All Jews are directly responsible for Israel or the idea that All Jews secretly support Israel. If you see a Jew who isn't directly engaging in I/P topics, don't ask them what their stance is. Plenty of us have never even been to Israel, and it's fucked up to assume that we're all experts in geopolitics.

The Holocaust was a Fabrication or a Lesson. The idea that Jews made up the Shoah has been around since the Shoah was still happening, and it's always been ridiculous. Today, you'll see three primary lines about this. Either it's that Jews made up the Shoah as an excuse to establish Israel, that the Jews deserved the Shoah because of what's happening in Israel today, or that the Jews "should have learned their lesson from the Holocaust" because now Jews are "the new Nazis". Frankly, I wish goyim would stop treating the deaths of millions of Jews like a TV show. Palestinian deaths are genuinely horrible, but this isn't some kind of "narrative parallel" to the Shoah.

The Kazars Theory, or All Jews are White. This is the DNA test nonsense. The idea is that Israel (or Jews at large) are only pretending to be indigenous to the Levant and that secretly Jews as a whole are actually indigenous to Eastern Europe. It's a lie, started by a German professor of Russian history in the early 1800s. Meanwhile, the vast majority of genetic, historical, and archaeological evidence points to Jewish origins in the Israeli/Palestinian region. There have been literal hundreds of genetic studies on this. Most of them suggest that Jews, even "white" Ashkenazim, are nearly genetically identical to Palestinians.

World Domination. The idea that Jews control the world began with the Protocols of the Elders of Zion in 1903. If you're encountering criticism of Israel that suggests that world governments, particularly European or American ones, are being controlled by Jews, you've got yourself antisemitism. White supremacists like to use the term "Zionist Occupied Government" or "ZOG" as shorthand for this conspiracy. The next two points are born out of this same ideology.

Controlling the Media. The idea that Jews are in charge of Hollywood and/or major news organizations around the world. Regarding I/P, I've seen a bunch of people say something like "Western media outlets won't cover this! (Because you know who controls them!)" only to look online and see... Western media outlets covering it. See also: "My source is tiktok! I don't trust the news!" While it's obviously a fair criticism to say that some Western news outlets certainly have a pro-Israel and anti-Palestinian bias, it's certainly not every single one of them. Reuters and the AP are once again my go-to's here.

Controlling the Financial World. I haven't actually seen this come up regarding I/P, but considering how things have been going, it's only a matter of time. We don't control the banks. We don't control the stock market. We're not in charge of American aid being sent to Israel. HaShem knows that if we controlled all the money, I'd certainly be living larger than I am now...

Those Bloodthirsty Jews. This one arguably started with Blood Libel in the 1100s, when Christians started accusing us of stealing and eating their babies. Straight up, I have met Christians who still believe this in 2023. You see this a lot with I/P-- the Al Ahli Hospital is the biggest example. More than a month later, most reliable intelligence organizations agree that a misfired Hamas rocket landed in a parking lot, killing about 100 people. But a ton of people are still saying that Those Bloodthirsty Jews intentionally bombed the hospital dead on, killing 470 people. I want to be clear-- Israel is killing a lot of civilians. But if you see a bandwagon of people focusing on the one group of deaths that Israel probably actually didn't cause? Consider why.

Causing wars, revolutions, and calamities. Hamas has straight-up got this one in their founding charter. No, the Jews are not responsible for any major global conflicts, revolutions, or counter-revolutions that don't directly involve Israel. We didn't do WWII. We didn't do the October Revolution. See above-- we're not secretly plotting massacres on Shabbat. A lot of people are saying that Netanyahu and Likud let Hamas in to justify the invasion of Gaza... I'd be shocked if that was the case. All evidence points to a classic intelligence failure. We're not orchestrating bloodbaths.

Section 2: Criticisms only levelled at Israel

It's important to recognise that Israeli civilians are no more collectively responsible for the actions of the Likud coalition than Palestinians are collectively responsible for the actions of Hamas. No Palestinian deserves to be stripped of their rights to self-determination in their ancestral lands because of the October 7th attack. Likewise, no Chinese person deserves to be displaced from China because of the CCP's human rights violations in Tibet, Uyghur and Hong Kong. No Russian person deserves to be ethnically cleansed from Russia because of the Kremlin's invasion of Ukraine. But plenty of people do believe that Jews should be stripped of their rights to self-determination in historically Jewish indigenous lands because of the actions of the Israeli government.

After October 7th, I've seen people argue that Israeli babies deserved to be kidnapped because of their national origin. I've seen people argue that Israeli women deserved to be sexually abused because of their nation of origin. I've seen people argue that the seven million Jews living in their ancestral homeland deserve death or displacement because of their nation of origin. Justifying or allowing brutal harm against people because of their national origin is hateful.

I want to make this part very clear-- I do not have an issue with calling out Israeli war crimes or crimes against humanity. But I do have an issue with treating Jewish civilians differently than civilians of other nations responsible for similar horrors. Amplifying bias against a particular group because of that group's nation of origin is called bigotry. Taking a stand against Israeli settlements in the West Bank is anti-Zionism. Collectivizing the label of "white colonialism", and forcing that label upon refugees forced to move to Israel, or Mizrahim with uninterrupted 8,000-year histories in Israel, is antisemitism.

Part 3: Moving Forward

So where do we go from here? If advocating for the destruction of Israel is advocating for the elimination of Jewish self-determination in our ancestral lands, but advocating in favour of the Israeli government is advocating for the elimination of Palestinian self-determination in your ancestral lands, then we must find some middle ground. A solution that allows seven million Jews and five-and-a-half-million Arabs to share the same holy land, without fear of persecution, displacement, or death. For me, this means a few things.

First of all, the recognition that most Israelis disagree with Netanyahu's approach to Palestine, and most Palestinians disagree with Hamas's approach to Israel. And that brings up a question-- why are Likud and Hamas in charge of Israel and Gaza respectively if most people disagree with them? Without getting into the complicated intricacies of the Knesset and the PNA on an already very long post (and without explaining your own government to you), the simple answer is international funds.

Israeli crimes against Palestinians are bankrolled by American Evangelical Christians, who believe that when Palestine is gone, all the Jews will go to Israel, and Jesus will come back to kill the world's infidels. They actually fucking believe that. Meanwhile, Hamas is bankrolled by Iran, which believes that the more often Jews and Sunni Muslims kill each other, the easier it will be for Iranian Shiite Jihad to take over the world. They actually fucking believe that.

So what steps can we take during our advocacy? Not for the destruction of Israel nor the destruction of Palestine, but for America and Iran to get their noses out of our damn business. I genuinely believe that a defunded Likud and a defunded Hamas will allow Israelis and Palestinians to work together for a peaceful two-state or joint-rule solution. Something that will keep my Palestinian friends from feeling like they can't safely travel from Jaffa to Tel Aviv. Something that will allow my Jewish family to visit and pray at the Cenotaphs of Isaac and Rebecca and the Temple Mount. Something that will let Israeli children from Kibbutz Nirim and Palestinian children from Khan Yunis play on the same playgrounds together, instead of sheltering from missile fire.

Frankly, we nearly had that when the Supreme Muslim Council and the Assembly of Representatives began collaborating against the British Mandate instead of against each other. Clearly, it's possible, we just need to stop being pitted against each other by foreign powers.

[fuckyouquiznak]

So, recently I have been in this loop of rewatching Glee and being obsessed with Star Wars…. Here’s some good old Obikin in the AU!Glee because midichlorians told me I had to.

Of course, I believe in the following headcanons:

Obi-wan is the Glee Club teacher. He is new at school. The glee club seemed like a good project to start. He knows his students are not very good singers… still he truly believes in them and always pushes them to give their best (Ashoka and the Clones try very hard, ok!? Not everybody is gifted)

Anakin is insufferable (<3). He is Rachel Berry but popular — a nightmare. Of course, he is good in everything he does. He is a straight A student, part of the football team, in the cheerios and he is the main singer of the glee club.

Basically the glee club could be called “Anakin and the others” and nobody would care

“oh well, at least he made the glee popular” - said everybody

To be totally honest though, Anakin didn’t wanna be a singer. In fact, he used to bully the glee members with slushes like everyone else. However, he changed his mind when he saw the new hot professor

Anakin has a huge crush on Mr. Kenobi

Like huge huge

And he is not very subtle about it Suzy Pepper coded.

He makes all sorts of advances. He gives Mr. Kenobi gifts (spot them in the drawing), he tries to make excuses to stay longer with him in the auditorium “tO sTuDY tHe sOngS” like he doesn’t eat high notes for breakfast

He even started wearing the cheerios uniform more after he found out Obi-wan likes how the pants make his butt look (he didn’t like say it out loud, but Anakin swears the older man has indeed looked at his butt once)

Obi-wan is so uncomfortable about it

Part of him wishes to just ban Anakin from the glee club in order to completely avoid him, but unfortunately there is no glee without Anakin’s voice

He has no choice The Force ships it

But Anakin is not that bad after all.

Sure, he is cocky, arrogant and manipulative. But he can be also very sweet, loyal and attentive. And he is undeniably attractive…

But he is one of his students!!! A minor!!!! He shouldn’t even be looking at him!!! Illegal!!! And against all decencies and morals!!! —Though his butt in the cheerios uniform does look great

Palpatine is the Cheerios coach. He is not happy about Anakin going around singing songs with those nerds of the glee club and skipping the cheerleading practice

Yoda is principal Higgins

Eventually, Obi-wan does fall in love with Anakin

“That’s fucked up and I am here for it” - Qui-gon Jin, football coach, Obi-wan’s best friend

“We all knew before it even happened” - Ashoka, glee member

“I think Mr. Kenobi made Anakin gay. Too bad, he was a good boyfriend, really god with his hands” - Padme, former ? Anakin’s girlfriend and school counselor

“Why is everybody talking about love drama and not doing glee club stuff? What happened to singing and dancing?“ - Dooku, former founder of the glee club back in the days and occasional guest star

Don’t worry. Obi-wan is very legal.

The moment stuff gets heated with Anakin (they kiss on the lips one time and he pulls away after one second) he dramatically resigns from teaching

He has failed his student. He blames himself for grooming him.

“Grooming what grooming? I did it all by myself. I just like older people. Ask Padme” - Anakin

Obi-wan has already made his decision. “It’s better for everybody” except everybody disagrees…

Ofc he leaves just before the glee club finals… and then I stop because this is getting out of hand

“This story sucks, I am so thankful Richard Rodgers didn’t get to hear it” - Dooku

“Richard who?” - Ashoka

If anybody has other headcanons or just wants to write a ff about it, I would be so happy to hear it — I just want these two to be happy at least in one universe.

[richeeduvie]

Debating on whether or not to write a full part two to When The World Falls Down, so I might as well just relay some of my fantasies concerning apocalypse!Princesa and Lalo.

You just know he is so fucking insane. I mean, he's Lalo. He's not particularly normal in terms of how he feels things or perceives violence, but he's been alone out in the woods for god knows how long. His mind has more than enough time to spiral and set fire to that emotional control he was known so well for.

When he sees Princesa alone for the first time in the woods...it isn't when she meets him.

He was out hunting one day, just talking and humming along to himself, thinking about the next time he was gonna wash his coat (and maybe also thinking about how he'd pretend whatever deer or rabbit he finds is the body of an old rival cartel member from long, long ago). He puts the aim of the rifle to his eyes, peeks to see if he can find away long and far away.

And there. Right there, in his target? A girl. The thing looks like she hasn't eaten in weeks, and it's obvious she's all by herself. it's too obvious that she can't take care of herself, playing with this little spear that she made for the fish she can't catch.

But what's really obvious to Lalo through the target of his gun...is just how pretty she is.

Hell, he doesn't remember the last time he's seen a woman, and he really don't know the last time he's seen one as pretty as the one he's watching.

What she's doing out here all by herself? Sure, it's a show for him. He can't stop watching. But does she know what's out there? Does he have to teach her? What if someone else found her like this?

This girl needs somebody. No, not just anybody. Him.

Lalo knew what he wanted if he was ever gonna find himself a woman before the world shot itself in the head and infested itself with mordido-mordidos. He couldn't handle independence then. Sure, a fight every now and then, but to have a pretty girl all dependent on him...well. Ay. That was a heaven he never found and never though he would have.

"What are you doing so lonely? With your little bear and rabbit...someone's gonna eat you alive if you don't find me, girl. Come on. Come this way."

But her she is. Princesa. He's gonna treat her like a princess, as long as she thanks him and realizes just what he would do for her already. She should be flattered.

The way he already plans on stuffing her isn't even what Lalo would think was her being thankful...that's just another way to take care of her.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

Lalo definitely slams his fist on the table when Princesa doesn't listen to him when he tells her to slow down when eating the dinner he made for her. He only feels the slightest bit of guilt at her scared eyes getting all big on him. It's mostly his cock growing tense. He really, really likes her scared. She shouldn't be. Not of him, but it just makes him feel strong. She's got nowhere to go, and she's all his. And it's good that she's still scared at the end of the day, he'd have to question how much of a whore she might've been if she was so easy on him from the first night.

But she is kind of a whore with the way she moan on him. A stranger. But he's not a stranger. He's gonna be her everything. It's not just she's gonna need him. She already does. The rest of his life will be showing her that.

"Just...slow down, you. You gotta rest that belly of yours if you want to eat it all, and you’re gonna want to eat it all. You need some weight on you after your lonely time out in the woods.”

He puts her on his lap when she's not able to finish her food. He basically force feeds her.

"How else am I supposed to keep you fed when you're not eating the things I make for you?"

Princesa doesn't what to do when he starts rubbing her clit through her jeans as she sits on him. She doesn't know what she feels, but she certainly knows it's new and terrifying and good.

Lalo placed her stuffed bear and rabbit on their bed. How cute. What a sweet, funny, kind man he is.

"Is this where I'm sleeping?"

My bed is yours, sweet girl.

Yeah. Princesa doesn't have much of a say.

[mellohd]

ARTIST/WRITERS READ YOUR ART HAS BEEN STOLEN

if you have used AO3, artfol, artgram, character hub, itaku paintberri, paperdemon for art and or writing your art has been scraped into a data set. Luckily the data sets themselves have mostly been taken down temporarily, some being re uploaded onto other websites. but there isnt a guarantee that all of them wont be put back up or just moved to another site. Theres also the unfortunate truth that a lot of these sets have already been downloaded and are likely already in use. But you shouldnt give up yet. You can still request your data be removed from the data sets which can hopefully prevent it from being going to anybody else if the sets go back online or distributed on other sites. This site here has more information on what sites have been scraped updates etc

This video here is where i got my information and is useful for learning how to request your art be taken down. I can't say for sure how thoroughly the other sites were scraped but i checked out the AO3 dataset, any work with the id 1-63,200,000 that is public HAS BEEN SCRAPED, aprox 12.6 million fics they said so if you think that "no of course this cant be me" think again. I was thinking that too that surely not my work, all my fics to my knowledge has been scraped. Follow the video's tutorial and advice on removing your art. Here is the link again PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do this!

I cant speak on behalf of everybody but my fics are very personal to me, especially my cry of fear fanfic. I put not only a lot of effort into that fic but also myself. I dont want to get TOO into it but I was going through a god awful miserable time when i made that fic and i used it as a medium to express myself and it enrages me that it was arbitrarily scraped into some fucking set without a care. It was downloaded and now somebody has a piece of me, several pieces, in their AI training to gentrify it and become a pool some fucking bot can pull from when prompted something close to its tags and theres nothing i can do to get it off their computers. But i can prevent it from potentially getting on anymore All my art pieces silly or not are important to me, they do not deserve to be some losers next generated slop when theyre too fucking lazy to pick up a pencil and if you care about your art and you use any of these sites I would request a removal of your data. I am outraged at this you all should be as well. I am going to be doing this ASAP

Spread the word make your own post tell your friends if they have used any of these sites. I cant say for certain about the other websites since i dont use them but i know for sure if you've used AO3 probably since the data sets were made(earlier this month) your work has most likely been scraped. The other sites i'm fairly sure is in a similar situation

[drdemonprince]

to the anon who sent me the message that took them 4 hours to draft.

I think your experience both with organizing and disability has probably provoked you to rethink the entire concept of "success" as our culture has defined it, even if you feel yourself still longing for some of the comfort and ease that capitalistic success can seemingly provide (or that we are conditioned to believe it can provide). im not sure what to say that can match the effort your put into your message, in fact i am galled by the fact that i know that i can't match that effort. i don't know how to make sense of the fact that a person who is finding it incredibly difficult to remain connected and engaged during this time, due to disability, has decided that i was worth that level of effort when they don't have the energy to message people they know. i don't think i am worth that effort. but i also respect that mired in all that you're mired in, it's a meaningful gesture toward engagement and connection to even bother writing such a message. i just think in a lot of ways i am a misplaced target for it, because i am a ridiculously privileged and publicly exposed individual who receives dozens of heartfelt messages that he doesnt find the time to respond to every single day. i think if anything that i've written rubs you the wrong way you'd be right to approach it with cynicism. because what the fuck do i know, banging around on my laptop every day and getting paid for it. how dare i lecture anybody about not unlearning capitalism adequately enough. i am one of capitalisms little milking cows. a massive publishing company makes a weekly profit off of me, off the byproduct of the worst years of my life and my worst traumas, as well as the meaning i've made from the scholarship of others.

i'm so enraged for you that you got a debilitating case of COVID (after several other cases) on an encampment, and that now the community you foster at that encampment is not there for you. i am disgusted at how more seasoned activists and organizations have regarded student protestors as disposable this entire year, selling them out to the cops, cutting bad deals with campus administration, and sending them to yellow and red risk level actions without adequate communication and getting them kettled and beat, or else nullifying their efforts with mealy-mouthed talk about keeping things peaceful. i see so many toothless, neoliberal protests happening here, ones that serve only as fundraisers for massive nonprofit orgs, and i also see literal teenagers being dragged right into paddy wagons by the likes of the PSL or the RCP while the Dems deride them and dance to Brat tracks, not even pretending to care the way they unconvincingly did in say 2020.

It's all making me terribly cynical, wondering where we are headed and whether i can or should encourage people who are younger, stronger, more energetic, more pliable, and more vulnerable to me to give up all that they've got for a cause when it's likely gonna be chewed up and spit out and not met in effort by anyone else. i am mournful of the fact that even i can't match that effort. every time i get a message from a friend or acquaintance who is going through some new awful traumatizing event i want to just curl up and disappear, because i can't even keep up with sending compassionate messages to all of them, let alone actually showing the fuck up and doing anything for them. and so sometimes i slip into the disaffected, blunted feeling that once led me as a younger man into libertarianism, thinking that all i can or should do is look after my own wellbeing, and fuck everybody else. and obviously that is a horrible path that is not by any means moral and certainly didn't help me anyway. it felt like we were on the brink of a great paradigm shift of some kind, a collapse of these evil systems, and now it feels like all of that is as far away as it's ever been, and that there aren't enough people with class consciousness and care for one another to make it happen.

i don't know. i think we all have to abandon our dreams of success, of comfort, of saving the world, the fantasies of everything being fine. i think we need to look to our immediate surroundings and our communities. i think we need to ask for help a whole hell of a lot more than any of us are doing, and to recognize that that is a form of helping. i think we need to get small. and remember we are weak animals. and stop thinking there is anything special or chosen about us. and to remember that nature can often be very cruel and that there is nothing we are owed. disabled people already know this of course, we know life isn't fair. we try to do what we can and yet we wake up feeling even less capable the next day, and it knows no logic and the universe remains indifferent to it. but there are people around us who can care, when we ask them to. and ways that we can just be there alongside one another in the muck of it all. not even necessarily making things better. certainly not being a savior and making the pain go away. maybe just sitting in the muck together.

all of which is to say, i am feeling stuck and overwhelmed and useless myself, anon, and i dont have any more answers than you. but thanks for messaging. im sorry people have taking advantage of you. including in my opinion lots of other activists. looking after yourself and not letting people guilt you doesn't mean turning into a conservative. the kind of anarchy that i am embracing right now is one that goes beyond linear change, beyond making meaning, beyond any idealistic visions of the future, beyond even fighting for some kind of symbolic survival. it's just being. none of it has to mean anything, none of it has to be headed anywhere. it just is. there is plenty for you to be bitter about.

[bugslaststraw]

Oh yeah. I'm tired and feel a bit out of body from morning to night dance moves pat and immfeelingalright right now but I had an idea about why Murdoc got like that with 2-D to begin with. Like yes okay I understand that once the stone is kicked down the road there's no way of stopping it; I always accepted that Murdoc was just never gonna be normal about him, but I also can't... Recall any one moment when we were ever told why, like. Why.

Why what? Why everything, why the core question at the centerpoint of everything, why is Murdoc so fucking angry with him all the time. Cos it sure as Hell isn't because he hates him; we're way beyond that now, and we know that that's a lie and most likely always has been. But Murdoc really likes Noodle too, she's his kid after all, his little girl, and he's never treated her the same way even remotely. If the reasons why he's always bullying 2-D is simply "well he's a control freak and gets affection mixed up with beating people half to death because that's what his dad did so he does this to everyone" then why doesn't he ever act this way with anybody else?

Well, the reason I accepted up until now is because Noodle and Russel can't be pushed around as easily. You try to hit either of them and they hit you back way harder and you crumple to the floor like a sack of wet rags. Obviously the logical next move after that is to try to suck up to them instead so you can get them to at least tolerate you, and maybe decide to stay and not set off the ole' abandonment issues as bad. Russel states at one point that 2-D is the only person Murdoc can reliably win a fight against, presumably because he'd never have the idea to swing back. It's not that he's that weak or whatever. He's just, well. Not a fighter.

I had another idea though. A real devious one, this one. Evil shit cooking. I'm an angst wizard where was I going with this

Ever notice how when Murdoc opens up to someone emotionally it's somehow always 2-D? Like, without fail? Okay, sometimes he has full scale mental breakdowns and opens up to Literally Everybody (see; Pirate Radio) because lord knows he isn't very good at keeping secrets, or at pretending to be cool. But also remember that comment he makes about making 2-D dictate his autobiography during, like... YouTube comment section impromptu QnA, space between Song Machine and Cracker Island, I believe. We never got that autobiography. We probably never will get it to be honest. All I remember is 2-D broke his fuckin hands writing it all down.

And, okay, time to beat the same dead horse again, I'm about to bring up arguably some of the most infamous 2-D Moments™ in GZ history but behold;

the other two times. I'm not sure how to put this objectively. Whenever Murdoc ends up crying and spilling his whole tragic backstory in someone's arms it's, like, 2-D 90% of the time. Coincidence? Gods no 2-D is just the person who's around him the most. Because he can't leave. He's also just more... Compassionate and forgiving. At the risk of making him sound like a dumb little baby again #let2dsayfuck he's been shown to be very empathetic and quick to forgive and all. If someone's having a mental breakdown, you try to comfort them. Isn't that how it works? But Noodle is too practical (and doesn't deserve to deal with her own shit father's mental breakdowns, trust me, speaking from experience, it sucks ten times more when it's your parent, especially if they do it often, you do NOT wanna parent your parent it's the most unfun experience I've had period, and I think or at least hope and headcanon that she's resilient enough to go no I am not dealing with this why are you crying get the fuck off the floor) and Russel possibly too mad at Murdoc to even get himself into this situation, so if there's any one person in the band you *want* to be crying in the arms of, it's probably 2-D, right? At least if you're Murdoc.

But. That's a bit annoying, isn't it. You slip up one time and suddenly you wake up the next morning and realise that this... This little fucking twerp has suddenly got immense power over you. Last night you took a Floor Pill off the dance boards of a shady nightclub and it made you think you were legitimately dying, and he was the only person technically in the band at the time, and you'd only first met him a couple weeks ago, but he was the person to go looking for you. Nobody's ever really done that before. And then he tries to help you, shit, he even gets on his knees on the pavement to help peel you off it, and you can't recall anybody ever being that kind to you in your life, and you break down completely, and you cry and hold onto him so hard he complains you're gonna break his spine and you make him promise to never ever ever leave you et-cetera. And instead of going "fuck off man" and disappearing into the night like everyone else you've done this with he actually does promise. Which has also never happened before. And then you wake up the next morning and have to deal with the fact that, on pure god damn accident, you gave that skinny little fucker your whole heart, and you can't take it back.

What's worse, 2-D doesn't understand the weight of what's just happened. Nor does he understand it the next time, or the next time, or the time after that. He doesn't think he's special, he doesn't understand what he's got and that you can't take it back. He's not malicious. He's not laughing at you. He's just confused, confused and very, very open. He's practically parading around your biggest secret like it means nothing.

And don't get me wrong: Murdoc is fine telling people about his past, in fact he seems to like it; he tells Cass Browne about his childhood so he can put it into Rise of The Ogre. He slips in that bit about the lunch lady iykyk as a joke, mid-interview. It's not about the backstory itself. It's about the emotional distance he has from it. And when you're fresh off an acid flashback I don't think you've got any emotional distance from it at all.

2-D doesn't connect the dots at least not until specifically Song Machine If Murdoc thought he was special he wouldn't be hitting him, right? He probably isn't even in the top ten of his favourite people. That's why the times where he's suddenly so familiar, and on top of that so vulnerable, just confuses him. He tells the story about the strawberries as a "weird thing that happened on tour," and the subtext (which we can quite easily spot from an outside perspective, like, come on,) flies completely over his head.

Can you imagine being Murdoc, and reading that interview after it was posted? Skimming through 2-D's synth article in the G-mag while editing because it's probably just stupid anyway, missing the bit about the acid flashbacks, and only noticing it two months later and everybody acts surprised you even care in the first place?

I think if I was Murdoc and I accidentally laid bare the depths of my soul (got a normal amount of vulnerable) and the mother fucker I did it to just started telling random people about it I would become the Joker immediately.

[visionsofmagic]

make you regret. | miguel o’hara x spiderwoman!reader  

[ao3 | masterlist | part 2]

summary: “keep talking shit and i’ll show you the other things i can do with that mouth of yours.” & “aw, it hurts? too bad. you’re gonna keep taking it until I’m satisfied.”

part 1 • wc: 2.4k • warnings&tags: nsfw, minors dni!, fluff (so little), chocking, oral > m!receiving, kissing, pet names, explicit language, angry and mad!miguel, SPOILER FOR THE MOVIE, biting, licking, squeezing, dominant!miguel, mentions of miguel’s features such as his teeth, brat!reader, no use of y/n, growling, moaning, getting used, roughness, harshness, and more in the story. enjoy! • couldn’t resist to write about him since I saw him in every app I use and well, I have a thing for him like the rest of you, so, hoping you will like this one. part 2 will come soon! [credits for the prompts]  

miguel was angry. you knew it. the moment you entered his personal room to give him a piece of information about the spot and miles morales, a spiderman from earth-1610 dimension, both are anomalies, and miguel needs to stop them before all things crash into each other. he thinks he has to do it - to keep everything in line, in order to prevent any unexpected event happen in a non-canon way.

however, you don’t agree with him, not after you and gwen talked about miles, seeing how she believes in him - how she has a soft spot for him. you know she tries to save miles, nothing wanting him to get hurt. you see your own reflection in her eyes. she cares for miles and you care for miguel but still, you believe he isn’t right completely, no, you believe there is another way to make everything right without hurting anybody.

so, he is mad at you and you know it from the way he looks at the door, then when sees you, he rolls his eyes, turns to the window, and looks outside.

“what is it?” he asks, clearly wanting you to leave soon because, well, you know how he acts when he is mad like this - nothing soft, just roughness that he chooses to show within his body language by fucking you hard and well, you are in a state in which you want him to devour you because you need it too, so, you tease him.

“what a beautiful greeting you have there pretty boy.”

“don’t call me that.” he nearly growls in annoyance.

chuckling, you get what you want; a miguel on edge, ready to make you regret speaking to him like that. “oh, you liked it yesterday, though, when you were -“ pointing to your thighs after sitting on his big bed. “between my thighs.”

only the memory of it made your stomach twist in pleasure and anticipation. he looked so pretty with his cute and teary eyes, looking up to see your face overflowing with the pleasure he was giving to you. your mind goes from his presence to last night and your thighs press into each other to feel something – but you stop when you hear his voice so closely than before. looking up, you see him right in front of you, his tight suit is on like yours, but you believe his suit is the best of you all – probably because of how his body looks thanks to it. his arms folded on his well-built chest, making him look bigger than before. his one eyebrow raised as he talks, “you have guts to come here after you tell me I am doing wrong in front of every fucking else and keep talking about last night?” he is more furious than he looks, you realize and well, it doesn’t help at all, especially when you feel the excitement. luckily, you are his ally, maybe more than that as you hope, not his enemy.

“yeah, I kinda do,” you say with a smirk on your face, being a brat, totally. “the expression on your face at that moment was surely worth seeing! I should take a photo of it only to put it on my wall and see –“

“huh,” he interrupts you, realizing what you’re trying to do and it makes him calmer now but you know he will make you going to pay, and when he says, “you sure have bravery today, not that I complain,” he smirks, holding your chin with his two fingers, making your head raise up as he kneels a little closer, “keep talking shit and I’ll show you the other things I can do with that mouth of yours, pretty girl.”

the air in your lungs decreases each second as your nose can’t find a source of air to breathe because of his words that made you freeze in your place, looking up at his determined face – he is about to make you regret.

“m – miguel – I.” you try to say when you see his eyes getting darker with each passing time and his fingers play with your parted lips.

“shh, keep it,” his fingers travel to your hair, playing with it softly, “you will have all night to say you’re sorry – that you didn’t mean to get me so angry, right, my pretty girl?”

gulping in both excitement and fear, you let him hold you by your neck, kneeling down to your level, pulling you closer, and beginning to kiss you passionately – reliving a lust through his lips mixed with madness on it as well which can be felt clearly since his hold on your neck become unsteady, making your hands grip the sheets of his bed.

moaning into the moan, you realize your legs begin to shake due to the weakness you begin to have – only because of knowing what will come next, still excited as hell for it to come sooner but you can’t say it aloud, not when he only acts to give you pleasure full of pain. “miguel! I – fuck –“ you moan when he bites your bottom lip, his teeth begin to appear slowly, alerting you that the night will not be easy.

“yes, like that, take everything I give to you while just moaning like a dumb for me,” he chuckles, that dark side of him taking some control of his soft side. fear and passion can be felt at the same time by you. “I bet you wanted it even before coming in here, didn’t you?” he asks, not seeking any answer to his questions – he just loves to talk in order to make you weaker each moment before him. “thought about it, planned it, wanted to make me wanna use that mouth of yours with the way I like most.”

he was right – he knew you more than you knew yourself and when words left his mouth, you came to the conclusion that you did it all on purpose all along the moment he looked at you with an angry expression and left you in there and still, letting you go after him no matter how he was angry with you. the bond you have is a complex one, both you and he knew it; him being what you need fully and you being his blood – the only taste he finds amusing to have.

“then, I will make your dreams come true,” you look at him with hope but his smirk only grows wider and darker, “In my own way, of course.”

oh, shit – you thought, he was going to do it roughly.

taking a little back, he looks down at your body, making you close your thighs together but he stops you, putting his legs between your thighs, opening them wider as you go back a little, palms behind you – on the surface of the bed, head raising up. “wider.” he commands, the voice turns into something that gives chills down to your spine as you open your legs wider – wide open that he can look at right into thighs, watching how the suit cling to your body fully, leaving lots of specific parts of your body visible to his eyes – another thing you did on purpose before arriving into his room.

“good – “ he says, “good girl.” so, he begins to use pet names now, well, it is a sign that these are the times he still acts soft before turning into a beast.

“miguel,” you try to say before his hands found your breasts over your suit, gripping them with his big hands. you can’t feel the warmness of his hands though and it only makes you want more, to feel him closely, not over your suit and not when his gloves are still on, “please. let me – let me take this off.” you point to the suit, hoping he will let you before it continues to give you half pleasure and half annoyance.

“huh,” he chuckles, playing with your hardened nipples, squeezing them not so gently. “did you believe I would be – nice enough to let you get pleasure so easily like that? oh, how delicate of you,” he kisses you again, biting it again. you sure he will leave a few red marks on there. “to think that I will be soft tonight.”

he then goes back, standing with his all glory, taking his hands back to put them on the lower part of the suit, and before your mind can make a comprehension of his actions, he opens his zipper, freeing his half-hardened thick and long cock right into your shocked face. saliva begins to appear on your half-open mouth when you see it. your hand makes an attempt to hold his cock but he is faster, gripping you from the wrist, tightly. you look at his face, “not hands. mouth.” he is not smirking or teasing no more, he just stands there, waiting for you to use your mouth.

“c’mon, open it,” he orders, and you listen to him without wasting any time, opening it widely enough but still, he is bigger than you can take. however, it isn’t like he used your mouth before – gently of course, but now, it doesn’t seem so gentle. “yeah, like that. a cock dumb – I will make you a cock dumb.”

you already are – just for him. however, you can’t tell it when he gives a few strokes to his cock, making it hardened and put it right into your open mouth in an instant, making you choke on his cock.

“m- mi – guel!” your voice is blurry as you close your eyes when he makes you take it all as much as you can.

“can’t speak freely when you have my cock in your wet mouth, huh?” he smirks again, taking his cock back, leaving so much salvia on your mouth that even a few of them connects your mouth with his cock, dripping into your suit from there and you only can cough in pain. pain – it is what you get a minute ago but still, you want to take it again. so, you look up at miguel’s face – satisfied expression on.

“again,” you say, confident of yourself. “I want it.” then, you open your mouth wider than before, leaning closer to his cock enough that its tip touches your lips from time to time as he strokes his length.

he chuckles, a little surprised by your words. “you are already a cock dumb for me, don’t you? fuck – I want to ruin you without even making you suffer. but, it should wait,” he puts his hand on your cheek, caressing it and then, moving to your back hair, pulling it roughly, earning a low growl from you which he enjoys – always. “I need to fill up that mouth of yours first fully.”

he nods to you and you know what you should do. firstly, you let your tongue slide on his cock from tip to the end, even giving a few licks on his heavy balls, making him growl – coming like melodies into your ears that you keep licking more and finally, you take half of it, trying to get used to it but miguel has other plans with you – rough and harsh ones; he holds your hair, pushing you forward. his cock touches the back of your mouth and you literally begin to cry in pain, choke on his cock, gasping, you try to take breaths but it is so hot – he is so hot.

salvias appear in your mouth, dripping from your lips onto his cock, making you move easier than before and you know he will not stop until he cums, so, you let him have his way with you; holding you from the hair, pushing your head forward and backward rapidly – roughly, moaning as he looks down at your pathetic face, his cock disappearing inside your wet eager mouth, earning beautiful sounds from you too.

holding his thick thighs, you try to find a source to stay still, not to fall into the ground because of the impact of him – fucking your mouth without thinking about the air you need, the pain you get, blurry vision because of tears running from your half-closed eyes to your cheeks, finally finding their places on his cock.

“m – mi –!” words can’t go out of your mouth which is getting used by miguel.

his gloomy eyes found yours, and the sight he sees makes him go deeper, want to remind you that silly actions and talks mean no good for you, not when you use them against his, even if they only have a purpose to be in a state like this, but apparently, you didn’t wait for him to be this rough. he didn’t too. nevertheless, he is having one of the best moments of his life.

“aw, it hurts? too bad. you’re gonna keep taking it until I’m satisfied,” he says, closing his eyes again as he throws his head back, feeling your warm mouth and lips around his cock. your nails scratching his thighs. “you gonna make me cum hard.”

and you do. it doesn’t take him any longer when you begin to moan in pleasure rather than pain, sending radiations to his cock, hands hug to his wrists, and you literally bounce on his cock. his hands hold you from the cheeks.

moaning, leaving a few growls, he says, “fuck, fuck – so good, so fucking good – !” and he cums into your mouth.

he stays still for a moment before looking down, seeing you look at him too. his one hand leaves your cheek while the other stays to caress it. he slowly takes his cock back from your mouth, letting all his semen stay in there too. when he takes off, you close your mouth, gulping a few times in order to leave no semen to go wasted, not after he gives you all.

breathtaking voices come from both of you. hotness spreading through your veins, keeping you warm. he says, “open your mouth.” you do, opening it. he nods in a satisfied manner.

your chest raises up and down while you are taking deep and rapid breaths to calm yourself down and miguel’s fingers find your eyes, cleaning tears away, getting softer.

“you look so pretty now,” he says, kissing your forehead, “but you will look prettier when you have my cock buried deep inside your walls doll.” he gives you a smirk and you realize it is not over – you're not even close to it.

“still wanna make me regret my words?” you ask, smiling, knowing damn well this is going much better than you think.

“no, not at all,” he shrugs, “I just want to put you in a position that you forget what you were having regret for.”

to be continued.

[waitmyturtles]

THE MORNING AFTER: ONLY FRIENDS, EPISODE 7 ("YOU GOT TO KNOW WHEN TO HOLD 'EM / KNOW WHEN TO FOLD 'EM") EDITION

Whew, baby. Well, I found this episode particularly brutal.

I've been noodling this week on the following theme: the mundanity of toxicity. The everyday-ness of bad in people. I think this episode captured this well (cc @lurkingshan, @neuroticbookworm, and @bengiyo, who all got a little preview of this thinking).

But I caught some other themes in this episode, too, which I'll quickly hit and list:

2) The elements of life, and 3) Gambling.

As a devoted meta writer, writing about Only Friends is hard. Because: I want to think that there's a lot more to what I'm seeing. I am certainly missing cinematic references that Jojo and team are making (I haven't watched Queer As Folk, for instance). Mew's face popping out of the bathtub? That has me wondering if I'm missing a cinematic reference there.

But at the same time, I wonder if by just observing the Only Friends crew, that I'm picking up on enough. When I was in my twenties, living in New York City, going to college...I was still trying to figure people out. I was absolutely SURROUNDED by people, and I couldn't help but think, everyday -- what is it that makes these people tick?

And I found myself regularly shocked at how mean people were. Very often, I'd just be like -- what the actual fuck, why are you trying so hard to be a massive dick? And, who knows -- maybe people were thinking the same thing about me.

That was when I was young. I just -- I didn't know that much about people. Really, what I didn't know -- and what I really NEEDED to know, and what I learned about myself in that decade and the next -- was how to manage myself around anybody, so as to preserve myself from any unpredictable pain that might come from someone else. In other words... I needed to fucking grow up.

Part of that self-management was trying on identities. Could I fake being a stronger person? Sure, I definitely tried. I tried with clothes, with new slang, with trying new activities, with drinking. That's just normal for a lass in their twenties.

The Only Friends crew -- they are assholes. Many of them were trying on change a couple of weeks ago. Mew experienced a HUGE identity shift during this episode.

But what they all embody to me, in this moment in their lives, is a kind of everyday toxicity -- a self-absorbed perspective, so tunneled internally into each and every one of them, that none of them are realizing that the energy they put out is colliding and having effects on others.

Like -- it's kind of shocking and twisted to watch. But when I think about it, when I remember what it was like to be in a huge city and to be in college and post-college: there's a part of me that remembers being CONSTANTLY surprised that people were just massive jerks, everyday, and again, who knows -- I think people likely thought that I was a jerk, too, for thinking of myself and leading myself with my life.

People, most people, grow out of these stages, as they get older, get more experienced in their years, maybe get more political in their dealings with others. I can't condemn this group of university students fully, as I hold hope (I'm a mom, damn it) that they'll grow into more fully robust and empathic people. But they ain't there yet. I'm not sure my turning stones gives me more insight to them than in relating to my own experiences as a former twentysomething. It has me thinking, as someone who loves turning those stones in my beloved dramas.

That all being said. Those two other themes in this episode have me thinking -- the elements of life and gambling.

We saw Mew play with fire (fucking finally, my man). And we saw lots of water -- water in the pool, water in the tub with Sand and Ray.

Water puts out fire. Mew tries to fake-drown (lol) Boston in the pool. Later on, Mew lets Boston know that he (Mew) can take Boston down, but won't. Mew is trying to control the fires that he's lit, and the ones that have already been burning.

My question to Mew is: do you know how to do what you are doing, or what you want to do?

I don't quite think so, and I think that "Welcome to Las Vegas" shirt he was wearing at Boston's house indicated as much.

(Uh, first of all, chain life, Book! MORE, MORE!)

Mew has decided to become a gambler. Let's think of all the metaphors! Mew has decided to roll the dice and possibly move past the pass line. He's decided to play his odds. He even STACKED his odds -- going to a new gay bar, enticing Drake Gap, going back to Gap's place, stealing the sex tape from Gap's computer, threatening Gap with reporting him for a crime, going to BOSTON'S HOUSE, TALKING TO BOSTON'S DAD, showing Boston the copy of the sex tape, THREATENING BOSTON, MAKING BOSTON BEG, showing MORAL SUPERIORITY OVER BOSTON, throwing the flash drive at Boston, and walking away. Like, if that were a metaphor for actually playing craps, first of all, lol, the pit guy would check Mew's ID, get him a players' card, and encourage him to move to the high limits room, being like, WHAT is this motherfucker DOING, but we want him doing more of it, he'll make us more money -- once he starts fucking things up.

Mew's trying on a new identity. He already was on the road to it, getting that LASIK for Top. He's just continuing to move forward with it. He's going to play with nastiness, but still try to come out on Top.

Trying on new identities. It is so normal when you're young -- I did that. Trying on what fits for whatever reason you are feeling at that moment -- if you're rebounding, if you're healing, if you're bored. Mew is embarrassed, maybe even ashamed, maybe even regretful that his first relationship ended up as a failure.

And now he's figuring out how to recover -- by taking a gamble, and playing with the exact same mundane, everyday nastiness that he's seen in everyone around him.

P.S. Ephemerality and permanence? That fire burned the memory that Top tried to create with Mew (cc @twig-tea and @lurkingshan here). And, gambling? SO ephemeral. Buh-bye, money and pride. Ray switching back and forth between Mew and Sand? Ephemeral crushitude. (SAND. SMDH. I KNOW RAY'S DAD SAID SOMETHING TO YOU, BUT STILL, SMDH.) Nick turning on Boston. Boston begging Mew to hold back on the permanent impact of the sex tape on Boston's dad's career.

And the ephemerality of movement: the clothes in this episode said it all. Las Vegas, NYC, Stanford. These young folks can just... disappear if they want to. And they just might.

(G'DAY, EPHEMERALITY SQUAD! @ranchthoughts @slayerkitty @distant-screaming @twig-tea @neuroticbookworm @lurkingshan @clara-maybe-ontheroad @thatgirl4815 @chickenstrangers @wen-kexing-apologist)

[corvid-cabaret]

feel like someone's said this already but jimmy absolutely feels like he's cluster b. i'm saying this from a semi-detached pov bc i've not talked to anyone i knew for sure was cluster b but from listening to. a lot of theramintrees. and also given jimmy's larger than life personality he really bridges on being cluster b.

i get anybody saying he has a sort of superiority/inferiority complex because he absolutely does. but it's so drastic that it really does border on cluster b. specifically i feel like it's aspd but npd and bpd can be argued.

i'm going to reiterate that i do not know anybody with diagnosed aspd nor am i a psychologist or psychiatrist. i also do not want to portray the idea that i hate cluster b people. i just hate jimmy who i think exhibits cluster b symptoms. i'm also a fucking nerd up at midnight. and i'm flipping between tumblr and a wikipedia tab abt aspd so there's that. yapping under the cut.

hoo boy okay. this is really complicated. first off looking at the diagnosis bit of the wikipedia article where they cite the dsm, jimmy fits under more than enough traits (the dsm lists 7 and requires at least three be present)

failure to conform to social norms and laws: this one is the biggest stretch and i can't really cite anything in the game for it, but if you find something that genuinely isn't a stretch, i'd love to see it.

deceitfulness: genuinely look at him and tell me this doesn't fit. he tricked daisuke several times to his gain and daisuke's loss every fucking time. spiked cocktail? yep. the fucking vent? jesus christ.

exhibiting impulsivity or failing to plan ahead: man he fucking crashed the tulpar because he didn't wanna deal with the consequences of his actions. he forced himself onto anya and then nuked the ship because he forgot things happen after you do things.

irritability and aggressiveness: anya. curly. swansea. genuinely there are too many instances for me to name one. he assaults curly while administering the painkillers. he yells at anya for daring to ask him to give curly painkillers. the whole 'shoot swansea so you don't fucking die' sequence. there's so much i'm going to be sick.

reckless behavior that disregards the safety of others: crashing the fucking tulpar!

irresponsibility: one of the major themes in mouthwashing is taking responsibility and the way jimmy goes about doing that is genuinely horrible.

lack of remorse after hurting or mistreating another person: do i even need to explain this? he doesn't spare any thoughts for anya. he thinks of her as a fucking womb and nothing else. do you call that remorse? i fucking don't.

now. i don't know shit about jimmy's childhood but just considering 6 of 7 are already exhibited well enough it's kinda easy to see. it's impossible to know for sure, but jimmy's behavior is well enough argument in my mind. you can absolutely disagree with this ofc, i'm just saying what i think. and you can argue about jimmy being something completely different, i'd love to hear it.

personally, though, this is just my take on him. i think he's likely to have aspd. this will not affect the way i write him, this is just me trying to understand his character a lil more. if you have different thoughts or even just want to explain, please yap to me, it'll help me string together my thoughts better. yapping over

[metalnecklace]

There Was Heaven In Your Eyes

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (plus size)

Word Count: 647

Warnings: none in this chapter

Notes: Welcome to my new fic! This is my first time writing for Javi, I hope I can do him justice. I’ve been wanting to write a Pedro character for a while and absolutely loved him in Narcos, so I figured why not! I do have Spanish in here (with translations right after when I feel they’re needed), but I am just learning how to speak it. So if there’s anything that needs to be retranslated or adjusted please let me know! I will also be posting this on my AO3 under the same username.

Summary: Reader has left her home country suddenly, finding herself teaching in Bogotá. When she ends up becoming a nanny for the Escobar family she isn’t sure if it’s any better than her life before. A certain Agent seems determined to help her, but will she let him?

Javier Peña is in the thick of finding Pablo Escobar, but ends up finding someone else. Will he let her be the one to break down his walls?

Masterlist

Prologue

The night was sticky. There was no other way to describe it. It was the type of night where Javier’s skin was on fire as it came in contact with the rolling condensation on his glass of whiskey. The drink is his usual, taken dry unlike the air he took into his lungs as he reminded himself to just keep breathing.

Things had been getting tougher when it came to catching Escobar. Javi’s nights stretched longer until they were no longer moments laying wide awake and restless in bed, but were instead short breaks of sipping alcohol to soothe his nerves until he went back to it.

Steve still tried to go home, even if it meant he was just waiting by the phone in the hopes that Connie would show him grace. Even when Javi didn’t feel he deserved it. He had seen firsthand the way Steve had started to slip into the habits that Javi lived day to day. Hidden flasks, reaching for his gun instead of his reason. But at the end of the day Javi had to admit that Steve was still the better person, the bigger man.

Javi downed the last of his drink, no longer feeling the burn that he used to. He longed for it some days, wishing that he had something to ground him.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and let out a sigh from deep within his lungs. His finger itched for his pack of smokes when he felt the stretch in his lungs. With his back aching he leaned down and grabbed what he needed out of his jacket pocket and placed a cigarette between his lips, feeling more comfort as he brought the lighter to its destination than he had since his last smoke.

“You really gotta lay off those things,” Steve’s voice rumbled from behind Javi. “Gonna slow you down even more.”

Javi had jumped after hearing Steve, not expecting anybody in the office at that hour.

“Fuck you,” he retaliated, twisting to face the taller man who waltzed to the opposite desk. “What’re you doing here? Thought you went home?”

Steve sighed and buried his face in his hands once he sat down. “Connie called, told me to hurry up and do my job so I can come home.” He raised his head, causing Javi to notice the dark circles contouring his bloodshot eyes. Since when did Steve look so burnt out? Javi shuddered to think of how he looked these days. “I figured I might as well get back to it.”

Javi puffed on his cigarette and exhaled, following the smoke up to the lights before looking back at his partner.

“There’s not much going on here,” Javi started, “if you did wanna get back home.”

Steve shook his head and reached for some of the files on the brunettes desk. “Nah, not like I need to do much there, anyway.”

The two men worked in silence together. It was comfortable, with a certain tether of understanding that not many others in the DEA respected. Javi loved to push Steve’s buttons, but at the end of the day he had really come to love working with him.

Silence was broken when Steve suddenly stood and moved to Javi’s side in three strides. He put a folder down over top of the one Javi had been sorting through and pointed his finger at a name with a snap of skin against paper. The folder was containing names of people Pablo had helped get fake passports. Most had already been done away with, almost all Javi had heard of. All except for the name Steve’s finger pointed at.

“Javi, we found it! Someone we’ve overlooked.”

Javi narrowed his eyes before looking up at Steve. “Well? Who is it?”

Steve lowered his finger on the page to where it showed their occupation.

“The nanny.”

[lissomelace]

*Kicks down the door, eyes mad*: LISSO! Lisso you absolute master of writing, fuck, this last chapter? Why did you do this to me! AAAAAaaaaaaa!!!! In my haste to read it I was late to work. *Starts chewing on it like on a piece of jerky*

One. I want a Russo now. He is just. Soft. Squishy. I died on that scene where Finno goes at him and Russo just, narrates things to Ingo. The hand-holding?!?! The hand-holding over Russo's hair?!?!? Ingo having him in his lap basically?!? Why do you do this to me?!?! THE BEGGING?!?!?! The initial scene where Finno just sees them cuddling constantly?!

Finno is damn feisty there, and it's also a good look on him, ngl. Just. In my head I have this mental image of him doing the Toothless growl-> sudden switch to "it's actually fine" when he notices that Ingo is Ingo and not anybody else. And that bite? Mhhhh, yes, that was hot.

AND SEEING INGO DO SO WELL WAS SUCH A TREAT! I re-read the first chapter, and oh, my heart, we have come so far!

Also the BANTER?!? They are actually BANTERING?!? Nature has healed. I'm in heaven.

This chapter was so sweet, and soft, and yes, hot, but so sweet at the same time. It's so good to see them happy. I want to chew on your smut scenes to extract your methods, those are so well written. (Tho I miss the politics a bit...I kinda want to see the reforms...I know this was not the goal of this fic, but I got attached to The Grandma Of Law, XD.)

Anyhow. Enough of my deranged howling. Here, have something of a treat. (I would have draw the hand-holding scene, but I do not trust myself with nakey bodies to draw. And the angle would be tricky. So. Cuddling it is.)

The tengwar that points to Russo you will have to decipher yourself, XD.

AAAAAAA THAT PICTURE AAA YOUR ART AAAAAA

AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA I am SO glad you enjoyed it so much!!! I am very sorry you were late to work, but I am SO GLAD the chapter was SO EDIBLE!

Russandol is DEFINITELY the best (in my interpretation in this particular fic, at least!) And I did it to you because you and everyone else who has been having to deal with the literal TONS of agonizing yearning and massive angst for *checks count* 30+ CHAPTERS quite deserves a great deal of squishy payoff. So long as the payoff you want is what happened in the chapter. Which, uh. It seems like it might have been.

Yes! Let Findekano be feral! Let him take a bite out of Russo. He's REALLY going through it in that chapter, he totally deserved it (and russo also deserved it, of course, and had tons of fun!)

Ingo HAS come so far! He deserves ALL THE GOOD THINGS RUSSO AND FINNO ARE GOING TO MAKE SURE HE GETS!

I have to say, I don't really have concrete methods for writing smut (that I'm aware of, at least). I guess...having read a lot of smut helps? And research? (that isn't a euphemism i promise, more like a looooong internet search history that includes a lot of stuff like 'how does [body part] work,' 'how to [sex act],' and '[insert big cat here] reproduction.')

We will probably get a bit more politics before the end! (no promises, my 'outline' for the rest is...sparse. like 8 sentences with one being 'a bit on the legal side of things'.) I'm so glad you love Niquelote (lol, she is SO The Grandma Of Law XD). The direct aftermath of the reforms will probably not be a huge focus for now, but they will factor significantly into the plot of future installments in this series.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THAT PICTURE IS SO PERFECT THEY ARE SO SWEET THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!! CUDDLES! INGO GETS ALL THE CUDDLES! I"M SO OBSESSED WITH THE WAY YOU DRAW CLOTHES THOSE TUNICS AND CUTS AND TRIMS AND INGO"S JEWELRY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

SO SWEET! SUCH TENDERNESS! AAAAAAA

...Thank you very much! They are absolutely perfect and it looks amazing!

Your ask (your ART) made my day! Thank you so much!

(asl;dkjfasldjfasd;lkjflksjjdklskjf he absolutely will!!!!!!)