#with this anymore. It has been happening for years. I should be more 'mature' and 'resilient' but I have had enough. It is taking a toll on

[rule-of-rose]

CHOTU. [why a 9 day vacation has caused me to break and lose the drive to consume food.]

This is extremely personal and I wrote it for the purpose of venting. It is not indicative of the majority of my work as a writer. I use this form of scattered writing as a way to keep myself sane. [All of this did happen over the past 9 days. I just do not have any way to cope with it aside from writing or praying to the Gods.]

— — — —

[roturo]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ OH! SO YOU'RE INTO OLDER MEN?

˚₊·➳❥ JJK MEN SHOWING YOU HOW A REAL MEN FUCKS! satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro ✧˚ · .

tags: afab!reader, reader is mentioned as a female, use of nicknames (baby, princess, doll, slut, whore), cheating, degradation, caught cheating, getting caught, unprotected sex, blowjob, pussy slapping, mating press, breeding, age-gaps, virginity loss [...] rbs are appreciated!

satoru gojo (Daddy’s girl)

well, that’s the word he used for the little girl you're babysitting right now. he’s a great dad and husband. there’s just this tiny whiny little thing he couldn’t do right– and that’s loving his wife as he should.

like– it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilty, it’s just… well, you looked really cute in that mini dress, he and his wife have been fighting lately anddd– he could tell his daughter liked you more than her fatality of mother she has these days. she even called you mommy by accident once! and that was the last water drop gojo needed for the glass to break.

“Oh- I bet you’d love to be full of me right now.” His thrusts became messier each time he pounded on you, “Mhh, fill you up ‘n make me a daddy again– you’d like that princess?” you couldn’t even talk anymore with how good he’s making you feel– he had your legs pressed on the bed thanks to his arms, almost bending you in half, he was making sure that mating press works.

“Ffffuckk- You feel s’good baby” He felt your walls clenching again, no matter how many times he made you come, he’s making sure you’re coming again after he does. A not ending cycle for him. “Such a slut for me hm? Coming all nice and pretty to this house just to be ruined at night–” his words made you feel dirty, but the euphoria of it was stronger, “such” slap, “a nasty” slap, “slut” slap– “and all f’me” with those last thrusts your body couldn’t take it anymore, spasming and trembling while your poor hole was filled up again. gojo’s wife didn’t even bothered to break your little encounter, she suspected it long time ago.

all that was left was a wide grinning gojo satoru and some divorce papers.

suguru geto (Daddy’s best-friend)

you didn’t intend this to happen… you always knew your dad’s best-friend was hot. he’s geto, ‘cmon. he brings a new girl every weekend whispering in your dad’s ear swearing she’s the one this time.

he saw you grow up, turn into this beautiful and strong woman. so how he couldn’t love you? you were like a doll for him, so beautiful and radiant in every way. a porcelain doll he needed to protect, he couldn’t lose you to any dangerous or stupid man, he swears he would beat the shit out of the guy who breaks your heart first.

“Shhiiiitt– Heh– I can tell how tight your pussy is princess–” His cock was stretching the living shit out of you, touching places never in a thousand years you could imagine you would feel. “what d’ya think daddy would say if he saw his little girl being fucked by his best-friend huh?” your brain was a fuzzy mess, you couldn’t make coherent words to say, and just feel how good geto is making you feel. you couldn’t remember how many times he had made you cum with his toungue and he’s just starting to fuck your pussy.

“ ‘m such a lucky guy if i'm the first you’re giving this pussy to, don’t ya think so doll? marking it as mine, baby I swear you’ll need no man to ever fuck this pussy of yours again– shit I won’t need another woman for myself, you’re the one baby” those words filled your heart of a tingly feeling, making more butterflies roam around your tummy, touching yourself you could sense geto’s cock coming and leaving with every thrust, your brain full of air and in need of more of his cock.

he couldn’t resist himself anymore when he was next to you, his cock would get hard the minute he enters your house, and thankfully he has a pretty doll to release himself with.

kento nanami (Big Boss)

Nanami thinks he’s a good and mature guy– At least for his wife and kids… He has this aura of a serious and mature guy but inside every time he’s just this close to breaking it, just to say what he really thinks or feels.

the first time he saw you at work with your tiny skirts and tight blouses he didn’t mind any type of attention to it, you were another cute worker, that’s all. One of another– he can think other women are pretty too right? maybe even prettier than his wife… and nicer, and cuter, and more homely feeling to be a mom. but he wouldn't do anything he would later regret right?...

“You’re s’pretty baby, such a dirty whore for my cock mhm?” he had you pounding from behind, his desk becoming even messier than it was before, one of his hands keeping you laid down on the desk arching your back like if he’s trying to break it– a sudden ringing brought you back from your unconsciousness of nanami’s cock– he answered the call, not a single sing of him trying to stop thrusting into you.

“Yeah?” his voice was out of breath, almost sounding like a sigh when he answered the call, “Where am I? Huh– I’m at the office r-right now…?” he wasn’t even sure if he could keep this act, losing himself more in the feeling of your pussy clenching on his cock– “Oh yeah- I’m okay, uhh- the kids? yyeah, yeah, they’re with my mom right now–” the feeling of keeping up a call with his wife while fucking you made his cock twitch inside of you, feeling like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time. it was no surprise for him that his wife was cheating, but he wanted to keep it like that for the sanity of his kids. 

“Quit the act Kento– I know you’re fucking somebody else right now. See ya at home.”

toji fushiguro (Step-Daddy)

you hated when your mother started dating new guys. they just kept breaking her heart– but you just stopped telling her that it's okay to live without a partner, that she had you by her side, but well… this new man was something else i guess and you didn’t say anything for the sake of your own good mother.

you didn’t like him, but for the sake of your mother you pretended like you do– and let’s be honest, toji doesn’t like children, so when he first met you he wasn’t as social as others… your mom was just too good to simply let go– but the way you moved, talked, dressed caught his attention, and as time passes and he spends more time with your mom– he's no longer drawn to your house just to see your mother, but to see you. 

“Sshhiit- You’re making me feel s’good baby” the lack of air was making you feel giddy, but the way his cock twitched inside your mouth made your core get even wetter. “C’mon baby, ride my shoe,” you wasted no time before your hips started moving, trying to gain some friction and release that tingly feeling coming from your core. 

“D’ya think your mother would like to see her daughter being full of his step-daddy’s cum?” he gets one of his arms behind himself trying to gain some support while his other free hand caresses your cheeks while you continue sucking– this same hand moves out your head and frees his cock out of your mouth, a small strand of saliva connecting your mouth with it–

“Fuck– guess i choose the wrong out of you two”

[bohemiandeer]

You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Sorry, but I just had a thought and I’m exhausted and don’t know if I’m going to write anymore tonight.

Just Steve holding a slight grudge against Nancy after she pretty much calls his love bullshit in the bathroom. He feels lead on, he’s slightly bitter but he knows how to be discreetly passive if he needs to be. But thing is he doesn’t have the energy in him to be passive. If this had been before the monsters, and someone who he thought was the love of his life did what Nancy did and proceeded to end up dating the guy who she said not to worry about within days after getting into a fight, he would have probably done something stupid. Probably would have ruined her locker with mean words or something like that.

He wasn’t sure what he would do, he was exhausted and couldn’t think of what used to come easy to him. Or maybe he’s grown to realize how immature that was, how it didn’t even seem all that fun to do to someone. Just thinking back to spray painting slut on the theater makes his gut twist uncomfortably. Once, he used to be the one to climb up there and spray something even worst. Now the thought made him want to throw up.

And maybe the grudge he is holding against Nancy isn’t really a grudge. Maybe he has matured to realized that the grudge he held was within himself for how fast he had fallen. For how stupid he was for thinking the girl would ever end up with him. He should have seen the signs. How she defended Jonathan even after he took non consensual photos of him and her about to have sex. Which he still felt disgusted by, his skin still crawled uncomfortably around the little creep whenever he was close by.

Though when the time comes, he realizes he was holding a grudge against Nancy. When he falls harder for someone new he realizes within minutes that something was different about this one. Instead of smacking him in the shoulder and scolding him for staring to long, Eddie would pull his hair in front of his face with bright eyes. Would do something dramatic to snap Steve out of the trance he was in. Like lick his face instead of kissing him.

That was the other thing Steve discovered. In the moments where it was just the two of them, it seemed like every other minute time would stop and Eddie would be in the same bubble as him. Lost in the same spell that Steve had tumbled into, needing to kiss the other just as much as they needed oxygen to breathe.

Nancy rarely had those moments with Steve, and they had stopped right around the time she started hanging out with Jonathan.

And Steve does hold a grudge, for how she stayed with him longer than what she had to.

Eddie made him feel in love and loved. Whenever Steve watched the other man he could barely keep his hands to himself and the best part was Eddie didn’t care. Steve could bite off Eddie’s remaining nipple and the man would still let Steve do whatever he wanted to him. Nancy never trusted Steve and never earned Steve’s trust the way Eddie did within one week of knowing each other.

Eddie was the moon and Nancy had been the sun for Steve. The sun burnt his skin and left him blistered while the moon wrapped his arms around him and rocked him to sleep every night. While Steve worried about when the sun would explode, he never had to worry about the moon disappearing for to long. It always came back, no matter what happened. Even if Steve had been an asshole.

God was Steve in love. This was it for him. And maybe at one point he had loved Nancy just as much as he did Eddie.

But now, as each day passes he only finds himself falling more in love with Eddie Munson.

He slowly comes to the conclusion that his love was and will never be bullshit.

And when he finally sits down to talk to Nancy about it, he finally gets it off his chest. What had been bugging him for almost years before falling for Eddie.

“Nancy, we were bullshit. But my love, it was all real. Maybe not as strong as it is for Ed’s but I know that if … everything wasn’t such bullshit I could have gotten there.” Steve says softly to Nancy. Shortly after she confessed she still had feelings for him. He seen this conversation coming from a mile away, especially with how many one sided sparks happened between the two of them while running for their life’s on spring break.

And as he stands up, leaving her in her own shock. Letting her process that he was with Eddie, a man. He can’t help but feel proud of himself.

He didn’t intentionally hold this grudge, but he felt as if he got back at her the healthiest way he could. By maturing and moving on. And looking down at Nancy, he could tell that she needed time to do the same. Not to be with another man or date in general, but to just grow as a person. But that was no longer his problem. His problem was currently running up the steps of the trailer with what seemed to be a moving snake.

“Hey Stevie! Look what I found.”

Steve was in love, and it wasn’t bullshit.

[christinesficrecs]

It's the time of the year where I sneak holiday fics into all my recs. 🤶🏻

Scent Left Unsaid by bleep0bleep | 2.5K | Mature

In a society where werewolves are second class, Deucslist is an alternative werewolf network (similar to Craigslist) where humans and werewolves offer (mostly sexual) services. Derek is a long-term client of an anonymous human omega whose scent is just perfect. He never expects to meet him, until it happens.

Derek has slept with that faded red hooded sweatshirt every night since he got it in the mail. It’s calming, that scent; it’s everything to him. So it’s strange now that Derek is smelling it wafting from the end of the subway car as it careens towards the L line, lights flickering on the passing platforms.

My World Is Filled With Cheer And You by bleep0bleep | 10.8K

In which Derek and his daughter are displaced just in time for the holidays, matched up with Stiles and his young son in a government protection program.

Sidequest  by bleep0bleep | 11.4K

Agent Derek Hale has been working up the courage to ask his partner Stiles out on a date (finally!) when he heads out on a solo mission—without Derek. Eager to provide support, Derek arrives in Beacon Hills, only there is no mission, and Stiles’ dad thinks Derek is Stiles’ boyfriend.

Well. It could be worse.

The Kiss Doctor by bleep0bleep | 3.5K

“That’s me,” Derek says. “Are you, um— the Kiss Doctor?” “Stiles,” is the reply, and the guy grins. It’s charming.

i wait for you like a lonely house by bleep0bleep | 4.5K

Derek isn’t sure why he buys the house. He doesn’t need the space, that much is certain. While it’s not as big as the one Derek grew up in, something about the cheerful yellow paint and the wide staircase (with banisters wide enough for children to slide down) draws him in.

affettuoso  by bleep0bleep | 13K

Derek mentally kicks himself for just standing there like a lovestruck fool, but it’s been exactly forty-six days since he saw Stiles, and he still remembers the taste of his skin, how Stiles feels underneath him.

The Gentleman And The Fox by  bleep0bleep, Inkforwords | 15.7K

Derek doesn’t expect much from his arranged marriage. When his inattentive husband, Lord Stiles Stilinski, tells him he’s free to look for a lover, he doesn’t know where to start, until a dashing bandit named the Red Fox catches his eye.

All's Fair in Orgasms and War by bleep0bleep | 63.2K | Explicit

The one in which (almost) everyone is a porn star, and Derek just wants to curl up with his fluffy blanket and watch the Hallmark channel, but work and falling in love gets in the way.

nom de plume by  bleep0bleep | 3.9K

There are no more chapters. 22 is the last one. Derek groans in despair. He has to know what happens.

Five Times Detective Stilinski and Fire Captain Hale Had Sex In Public, and One Time They Did It In A Bed by bleep0bleep | 32.8K

“Did you say–” Stiles starts.

“What?” Derek growls.

“We’re not a couple!” they both retort in unison.

“We’re not together,” Stiles insists.

Lydia coughs pointedly. “An incident report filed by 87th Precinct Captain Erica Reyes. March twenty-fifth, eight p.m. Came back to the precinct to grab my coat, only to hear Stilinski banging his new boyfriend in the holding cell.”

i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me) by bleep0bleep | 10.5K

Derek gets in an accident and loses a few years of his memory; suddenly everything is different— he’s not a freshman loser anymore, but a popular senior, captain of the basketball team, a shoo-in for prom king, too, and he should have everything he’s ever wanted— except he doesn’t seem to be friends with Stiles anymore.

Mauve by bleep0bleep | 7.3K

It’s been ten years since he’s seen Derek Hale, but Stiles would recognize that ass anywhere.

remember my love by bleep0bleep | 23.3K

Stiles wakes up and suddenly the war is over, he's no longer a penniless mage, and living in an exquisite manor married to the man he's been in love with for far too long.

“It’ll be fine,” Stiles says gallantly. “I am certain I will just fall in love with my husband all over again, and I will find plenty of joy doing that.” He winks at Derek for good measure. Derek blinks.

of course, of course by bleep0bleep | 12.9K | Explicit

Derek swallows, watching Stiles mull over the paperwork. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” Stiles says, licking his lips. He signs with a flourish and pushes the contract back at Derek.

Derek knows every word of the contract by heart, but his heart stutters anyways when a sentence jumps out at him. The client acknowledges that any bond created during the heat session is temporary.

[whokilledjared]

the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself. (& takes on social media)

Hi.

I'm lonely.

The moment I got "two weeks off school" in sophomore year, life went to 4x speed & I can't turn it off no matter how hard I try.

Maybe COVID-19 adolescence did numbers on me. Somewhere between the iPhone 5c and ChatGPT, 14-hour screen times have live-streamed to me a steady, homogenous death of culture.

Nothing is cool anymore. Nothing is sacred. Every movement is a trend, and every cult classic a sequel.

The value we place on things being beautiful, on being "cool," and our gatekept appreciation of how hard these things were to find: it's been co-opted, or perhaps stolen. It's been stolen by the new merchant class. "Disruptors" and "innovators" turning our lives into a burgeoning black mirror prequel. Soon, we'll graduate too, and we'll wring every morsel of value in each others' lives dry for cash.

Plain and simple, I think we're being manipulated.

Your dates are an algorithm. Your music is a social signal. And Zuck knows when you sleep.*

God. What the fuck are we doing???

“Individuation is becoming the thing which is not the ego, and that is very strange.” — Carl Jung

Recently, I deleted Instagram. My first impulse was to post a story or something, announcing my departure. But then, I thought that would be lame.

I got rid of my account, too. Kinda. Over 1 year, over 800 followers removed, and what remains of me is a little grey icon, and "JM_0000000010" where my name and face used to be.

yay.

There were many people I wish I could have been friends with, but I wonder, too, why I find myself so drawn to the validation of others. Does social media affect me worse, or do we all just choose to ignore it, languishing in private?

At any rate, this last year has almost felt like re-learning how to be a human being.

Personally, I think one of the biggest markers for maturity is when you become willing to disappoint the people you know in favor of what feels right to you, when you start to unravel the stories you’ve told yourself (or been told) about who you are and what you should be. In short, the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself.

And sometimes, I think about every college student that has ever lived. My grandmother, my dad, and so on. Just consider for a moment all kids who graduated before 2010:

What was it like for the ones in 1940? To walk around, before a campus had computers? In 2006: To meet someone pretty, but forget their number? In 1999: To cram into dorms, and watch Seinfeld live on-air?

Would I, like my dad in 1988, have braved cold night, brisk wind, & landline phone-call just to knock and see if my friends were too busy to hang?

What stories could I tell if there was even the slightest chance of getting lost on the way home from a party?

Humans are social creatures. We crave our friends like water. To me, the clearest difference between Dasani and Instagram is that one of them comes in a bottle.

Yet despite these distractions and comforts we have in 2024, somehow, we still have engineering students. People who carve out time in their day to sit down, look at paper, and solve differential equations. But then, that's not so hard, is it? It just takes time. Precious, fucking, time.

At Meta, leagues and leagues of these engineers power behavioral scientists, who are competing for the highest salary. Their benchmarks? Your FOMO. Guilt. Anxiety. Obsession. The worse you feel, the more you engage with their content. The more you engage with their content, well, you're starting to get the point.

Try something for me: Open up Instagram, but don't tap anything. What happens? How many little animations? How many tiny nudges prompting you to get lost? Our home-pages are billion-dollar diving boards, hoisting us over engineered catacombs of subconscious quicksand.

My homepage is my FOMO, my envy, and my crushes. The pain and struggle of trying to be someone who I am not. My little existential crises, bundled-up, packaged, and shipped with a like button.

To abandon your social networks entirely, however, requires a safety net of close friends. After all, your friends are online, and you'd be miserable without them.

This is the problem with our monkey brains. Millennia of sociological natural-selection have made us quite great at feeling terrible. We're damn good at making tribal status games to play with, too.

Seeking refuge in quirked up septum piercings and boygenius listeners, my time in counter-cultural, alternative "scenes" between St. Louis and Tampa has shown me that even the weirdest of folks and the most removed can accidentally find themselves reduced to nothing more than high-school popularity contests. Even if I love them. Even if they're amazing people. We're human.

We can't "quit social media" as much as we can't "quit bottled water" Sure, we can, but it's inconvenient. And even without a bottle, we're still drinking water.

So I lost touch with my friends. I got no new updates on their lives. I forced myself into the inconvenience of not having a phone to reach for in fleeting moments of boredom. Suddenly, I was out of the loop. Suddenly, I was bored. And suddenly, nobody missed me. My only friends were the ones I had the time to text. Everyone else ... does not exist.

Weekends have become more valuable than ever. Without the empty social calories of seeing my friends' pictures, I find myself planning hangouts as often as my schedule allows. I have more lunches, more study sessions, and more is done in the company of less.

And I have the time to breathe.

And in this calm, I think I found my answer: it's my misplaced ambition. These fears of anxiety and people I thought I would miss, they seem represent something I want to see more of within myself. Something I want to develop, lean into more deeply, as an individual. And I think that's quite normal; to look out into the world and feel attracted to things we want to see more of. This is, I think, how everyone develops their own definition of beauty — and of coolness. It's largely the intersection of what we find most interesting, and what we want to see more of in the world. Because beauty and coolness, by definition, are rare and hard to find. If they were everywhere, nothing be beautiful, nor would anything be cool.

When we all turn into wrinkles and cataracts, bad backs and heart attacks, for a brief, glorious moment, our lives are going to flash before our eyes. In this moment, you'll see your story. The ultimate progression of you.

How much of that will be skibidi toilet and reaction clips? How much of that will be arguing on the internet? Can you tell me, just how much of your life will you have skipped over to pacify your intentionally-lowered attention span?

That girl whose number you couldn't find Those passing questions over coffee that you couldn't search on Google The boredom of a subway ride

Those are not inconveniences, they're what the older generations refer to as "life."

* (oh, but if you can't sleep, consider this aside: Google knows the angle you walk at, how fast you're walking, and they've got crowdsourced pictures of everywhere around you at all times of the day. fun bedtime thoughts <3)

[astroyongie]

Enhypen January 2024 Reading

note: please take it lightly

Heeseung

Love: he is currently single and it does seem like Heeseung has once more lived a dissapoitment in love after his current crush as rejected his confession. He regrets a lot having done this confession (it was to a non idol working in their company) 

Career: he is very disappointed as well with his current career. I think heeseung is very stressed and he suffers a lot form anxiety due to all the work that is put on them. He feels overwhelmed and he doesnt know how to deal with all the fear he has toward his career 

Self: despite all, he tries his best to keep moving forward. Heeseung seem to like wanting to keep a strong personality in from of others and show no weakness 

Jay

Love: single at the moment, Jay isnt seeking for love since he just came out from a relationship very recently. Whatever this was about, It kind of annoyed him to this story not to last (but at the same time it seem like it was his decision to terminate things) 

Career: he too, like Heeseung feels very pressured by his career and by what the company demands on him. His schedules and hard work are defintily affecting his physical health. I feel like he is very tired and overworked 

Self: he is trying to recover from this dark period that had been lingering around his head. Jay is trying to be strong as a person and move forward with things 

Jake

Love: he is equally single. I feel Jake had been trying to get in a relationship with someone since August but that the person refused his advances which have left him frustrated. At the moment he his withdrawing from the love affairs 

Career: like he is happy with his idol situation, he likes what he does and he is enjoying what his work has been giving him so far. Yet I feel like Jake isnt totally satisfied and that he seeks to do more than what he has been doing so far (probably seeking outside opportunities other than with enhypen) 

Self: he is on a very dark side of wealth and fame to be honest. Here it seems like he has become a little bit too attached to money and the power that it gives him to do whatever he wants without being punished by it or judged 

Sunghoon

Love: He is dating someone and what it is intersting to see, is that Sunghoon might be leaving some clues behind him about the person he is currently seeing. I also feel that this is an idol 

Career: he feels like the company are doing a terrible job at managing the group. Sunghoon feels like he has too many schedules to attend, many opportunities to work on yet everything is disorganized and he feels over committed by the company and his sponsors 

Self: he is very focused on his career at the moment and also on his image and what hes shows to the public. I believe that Sunghoon has been focusing a lot lately on changing his idol image and showing something more mature 

Sunoo

Love: if he was in a relationship before, he isnt anymore as he had a huge conflict with his partner which provoked them to break apart. They disagreed a lot on things and they didn’t had the same goals for what they wanted the relationship to be. Their relationship ended in bad terms 

Career: Sunoo have been having some extra opportunities when it comes to his career and one should expect him to shine brighter this year thanks to the work his company and his sponsor are putting behind him 

Self: he feels okay, he feels more in touched with his emotions and with what is happening around him. Sunoo has been taking decisions with his heart more than his head 

Jungwon

Love: he is currently single and quite bored about it. It feels like Jungwon is longing to be in a relationship again but he havent found anyone that could take that spot. He is needing love and yet being very lazy about searching 

Career: he is trying to take a lower profile on the group. I feel like Jungwon has no wish to take decisions for the group, he doesnt want to be in the spotlight. Almost like the “filler” member is what he is seeking 

Self: Jungwon is someone very ambitious and he thrives for success. Just music success might be just a path he choose to take to later change (perhaps acting?)

Ni-ki

Love: he is very successful with girls around him. I believe that Niki is still single yet he doesnt stop himself to enjoy the company of people whenever he has the opportunity to do so 

Career: expect niki to have a lot more solo opportunities this year that he had previously. Either they are for solo music stuff, for acting/mcs or shoots/marketing. He is booked and sponsors are trying to snatch him 

Self: he has been a little bit cold and too upfront with one of his members. This might have generated a few conflicts with one member because he often loses his chill self lately.

[kurithedweeb]

I think we should talk more about the potential Malachi had to be absolutely terrifying. 900 years tormenting everyone who stepped into his haunt with their greatest fears and that just goes away? Malachi is getting his own story to explore this and I will call it "Spirit of Sin" because of CRIMES.

Malachi's magick, as we all know, involves showing a person their greatest fear. He can do this to multiple people at once and by the time the crew shows up at Malachi's manor (I know it's a castle but I always think of it as a manor) he can turn it on and off at will. The fears seem physically substantial and other people can see them. We also know that Malachi developed his magicks when he was pretty young, and he was sent away to live at the manor with a man who was either his therapist or his tutor so he could learn how to control it. Unfortunately, he didn't learn to do this before his power drove his therapist-tutor insane and the guy accidentally shoved Malachi off the balcony and now he haunts the place until the PD crew shows up.

He's very active for a number of years close to his death. The therapist-tutor, his family and servants are all still living in the manor. Malachi spends these first few years working out the worst of his emotions about being dead so young by being your standard poltergeist and driving his killer insane until he eventually drives the therapist-tutor to death and all the family and servants move out. All alone, Malachi cries for a bit and eventually goes to sleep.

Without bodily functions to wake him up, he spends the grand majority of his time in a dormant state, preserving his child mentality because he's never awake enough long enough to mature. He only really wakes up when someone steps onto the manor grounds, shocking him awake by just being in his haunt. The first time this happens, the manor's in disrepair and so dusty all the carpets have changed color and he's confused. Malachi pleads with the hapless adventurer who stumbled through the wards to help him, only to accidentally drive the poor soul mad. Ever since then, whenever someone wakes him up he uses them for practice.

But he doesn't stop once he has control. He's only ever awake when people show up at his door, when he's toying with them, and it takes so long that he starts to find a sort of enjoyment in the torment. He can't find any enjoyment in anything else. He's alone and sad and eventually enough time passes that he can't understand the language of his visitors anymore. It's still Ru'auni Common, but it's evolved so much he can hardly recognize a word. Malachi has become so isolated from the world that all he has left is this sadistic side of himself. And then Aph/Anastasia shows up.

900 years plus however many he was alive (7-10?) puts him at about the same age as Zoey and having been a kid when Irene was around the first time. Being Irene, some of the languages from when she was Irene got sent over when she became Anastasia. She can understand the ghost boy, and as soon as Malachi realizes she's actually responding to him, even if she jumbles her words, he latches onto her.

Finally, finally, someone he can talk to! Someone who's not afraid of his power, either! Malachi wants so desperately for some new kind of connection that he goes full child mode, turns off the sadist side of himself completely, and starts trying to endear himself to her through cuteness. Anastasia, feeling responsible for this bond he's tacked onto her, takes him in as one of her own. This leads to a close mother-son bond.

The thing about Malachi is that he changes for Anastasia. As far as we know, in canon, he stops using his magicks altogether since it's pretty much never mentioned again after they leave the manor. Aphmau is known and respected by Phoenix Drop's neighbors for her pacifist ways. Anastasia is a fairly peaceful person, the kind of leader who prefers to opt for mercy whenever she gets the chance, but Malachi has a surprising lack of regard for life. He doesn't care about death anymore. He's killed before, he's driven people to suicide before, Malachi's got no problem with it anymore, but Anastasia's personal views on killing without life-threatening justifications are that murder is Bad and so he conforms to her more peaceful ways.

Except then she disappears into the Irene dimension. Half the guard is gone, the Lord is gone, his mom is gone. Malachi's not big enough or strong enough to protect the village like she would have, but he can protect Levin. He has a baby brother now, one that he'd do anything for, and what Anastasia doesn't know won't hurt her.

The sadistic side of him, the side that really enjoys the torment and that called the fear of everyone you love dying 'boring,' never went away. He never grew out of it, he just toned it down and stopped acting on the occasional urges. He's just bringing this part of himself he buried back to the surface. But this side of him plus a total disregard for most life makes him absolutely ruthless.

Malachi's not a guard, he's not a soldier, he doesn't give a shit about anyone's honor. All he cares about is making sure his baby brother Lord Levin makes it through. He's an absolute powerhouse when he grows up, no sensible Lord wages war on Phoenix Drop no matter how weak they are because the Lord's right hand is an army in his own right. They tell stories about him. He's an absolutely terrifying fighter, a man who raises horrors and unspeakable things on every battlefield he sets foot on, a man who can turn the greatest of friends against each other with a wave of his hand. Malachi of Phoenix Drop never hesitates; he stopped hesitating centuries ago.

He only really dials it back down after the Irene Dimension crew sees it in action for the first time and show concern about what he might have had to become in their absence. As if he'd become something he wasn't already.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

when you watch lando's old footage back with his different teammates you can see his chemistry is so different with each and every one of him. you can see the observant and maybe nervous first year f1 racer that he was around carlos. the fire-meets-fire vibe that they brought, all the overflowing energy of being early 20somethings.

then you get the daniel era where it's honey and butter. both of them warm and charming and lando still learning from the other. but also lando also coming into his own as a racer and realising that he's not an imposter - he's on the level, if not better at that point, than the person who raced for red bull and has 8 GPs under his belt. even if that same racer seems a shadow of his former self at mclaren.

then you get the 2022 merry go round, and oscar. might as well be night and day when they first meet.

oscar, who keeps to himself, puts his head down and works. oscar, watchful and careful after the silly business with alpine. who probably knows he's coming into a buzzy environment with big personalities and huge expectations too - because who is this kid who had the audacity to basically flip off alpine? and via social media of all things (how very modern for an old-fashioned sport). how is this kid gonna make his mark on such a storied team, where the last win is almost now as old as him? what is he going to do with all that potential, right?

we love the machine, because we love watching the potential of a bright young thing fighting their way out of its jaws. lando was in there too, not so long ago, and the poison from that bite might still seep.

nobody knows what to expect. but lando gets to be the elder in the duo for the first time. lando's also going through a process in 2022-23 where he also seems to be entering a new phase of his life and realising some stuff about himself as a person too and what his priorities are. we'll never truly know what that process is (nor should we), but i think on this side of 2024 you can already see how he's handling himself out of it.

and we saw it maybe, in a bit of a smirk at oscar's first day for the car launch and oscar being late. a bit of wonder at oscar, who when suited up seems physically larger than what he remembers.

but then! oscar puts in the work. good chatter surrounds newbie and his working style, and oscar demonstrates maturity. he shows what a contender he is. that he's got his own approach, and he's ready, and – once the car comes – he starts backing that up with good results.

lando is competitive as hell on his own terms. but seeing a twenty one year old from the Reserve bench come in under er, fraught circumstances, then smashing out result after result from Suzuka onwards - surely that puts some fire under your ass in a big way. and! lando is someone who, i think despite his bad luck and lack of a win yet, is incredibly driven and has it in him to be a proper WDC contender. he has that quality. if his teammate is pushing him he's just going to push himself harder.

which culminates, interestingly, in soundbites we're getting recently. like the peter crouch interview, where lando says he's stopped DJ-ing because he's prioritising racing. not an easy decision to make i'm sure, and maybe one that would've happened without oscar's presence at mclaren anyway– but just one signal of where his headspace is probably at now and into '24. lando is also much more reserved about the soundbites he's giving lately (like "i'm not making any race or win predictions anymore and i'm taking things as they are because predictions haven't come true for me in the past, there's too much expectation on myself" etc etc.).

you might even describe it as... maturity.

and guess who has been described as incredibly composed and mature by the mclaren team?

exactly.

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: You’re My Best Friend

————————————————————————-

Summary: You and Joe have been best friends for as long as you both can remember, but maybe it’s more than friendship.

Warnings: fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

————————————————————————-

*No specific date for this fic!*

Imagine getting dumped a week before your birthday.

Lucky me I don't have to imagine.

I was stupid to think things had been going even a little good with the guy I was seeing but I just wanted to prove my best friend wrong.

My best friend since diapers that is.

Having Joe Burrow as your best friend should be a flex but it was a curse.

We couldn't go out in public anymore and I stopped going to his games since his rookie year because of a rumor that I was his girlfriend.

Joe was super apologetic about it but refused to make a statement saying that we weren't together.

It ended up being a huge argument that wouldn't be resolved til weeks later… but now Joe and I were neck-deep into another quarrel.

My friend from high school told me that my ex-boyfriend from senior year had a mega glow-up. I reached out to him and though he had matured looks-wise… he was still the same douche he was years ago.

I was bored so why not entertain it for just a little bit?

That was a big mistake because I ended up developing real feelings for him.

That's when Joe and I had our argument.

He told me that it was a bad idea, but I told him he didn't know what was good for me. Both of us ended up saying words we wish we hadn't. Now Joe and I haven't talked for three weeks.

Our families would get together regularly but if Joe found out I was going he'd say he was busy, and vice versa.

Today was my 26th birthday, oh and that's another thing about Joe. He loved bringing up that he was older than me.

I had invited him to the party today even though we were in the middle of a fight because it wouldn't be the same without him nonetheless.

Joe hadn't sent a message back or even reacted to the message, just left it on read.

There was a pretty low chance of him even coming, but I wanted him to have the option to come if he wanted.

——

I sat in the kitchen, looking through the window over the sink at the backyard decorated and full of people.

Except the one person I wanted here, wasn't here.

“Sweetie…” - your mom walked up behind you and squeezed your shoulder

“He actually didn't come, Mom. Joe hasn't ever missed one of my birthday parties. Have I gone too far?” - you

“You haven't done anything wrong, honey. Have you told him about Chad breaking up with you? That might make him a little happy.” - your mom

“Why’d that make him happy?” - you rolled your eyes

“y/n… because he didn't want you guys together for a reason.” - your mom smiled

“He just didn't like Chad.” - you sighed

“I don’t think you're reading into this enough. I've seen the way you guys look at each other, and it's not in a best-friend way. Don't you think it's kinda odd he’s always gotten mad when you go on a date with a guy or get a boyfriend? There's something there that isn't purely platonic, and it's not one-sided either, y/n. I think he feels the same way about you that you feel about him.” - your mom

The way I feel about him.

The feelings that had slowly turned from friendship to finding him attractive to having a full-blown crush on him. It didn't happen in just a month or even a year, this has been going on since OSU.

I've never even thought about confessing to him because it just felt like a one-in-a-million chance that he felt the same way. I'm his best friend or was, there's no way he likes me.

My mom ended up making me go outside to socialize with my family and close friends who were basically family… minus one.

——

There was a part of me that had hope that Joe was going to come but now that I had changed out of my party outfit and was helping my mom clean up, all hope was gone.

I had my back turned to the door taking the Happy Birthday banner so when I heard the sliding door I figured it was my dad.

“Hope I'm not too late.” - Joe

My heart stopped when I heard the last voice I expected to hear. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mom give me a wink before she walked back inside.

Turning around to face Joe, he stood in front of me with a tower of gifts in his hands.

“Parties already over Joe might as well just go home.” - you

“Listen… I had full intentions of coming but I was working out and l lost track of time. There was this pee-wee football team who all wanted pictures with me and I gave them a little speech. Anyway, the moral of the story is… I’m so sorry that I'm late and have been such a jerk the past couple of weeks. I hope you'll forgive me because it's not fun going a long time without talking to you. Happy Birthday… by the way.” - Joe

Without saying a word I took the gifts from Joe’s hands and placed them on the table I was cleaning off.

“I deserve th-” - Joe

Before he could finish his sentence I engulfed him in a huge hug.

“I missed you.” - you

Joe was tense at first but relaxed and cradled the back of my head against his strong chest.

“I missed you too… so much.” - Joe

“I’m glad you came.” - you mumbled

“Me too.” - Joe

We stayed there for a moment, way too long of a hug for ‘best friends’.

“I have something to tell you.” - you

“Me too, but can I go first?” - Joe

I nodded and Joe forged ahead, our arms still around each other.

“I’m sorry about how I acted about Chad, as long as you're happy then I’m happy, and if he makes you feel that way then so be it. Maybe you're right too, maybe he has changed. I shouldn't judge someone off of their past.” - Joe

“Joe I appreciate your apology but he broke up with me a week ago, that's what I was going to tell you.” - you

“Oh. I'm sorry… I hope it wasn't messy. Are you okay?” - Joe

“I’m fine. Just sucks that yet another guy has driven me closer to losing faith in the male species.” - you

“Maybe you're just not dating the right guys. There's someone out there who will show you true love, I'm sure of it.” - Joe

His words made me feel hopeful and sad at the same time. Joe believed that there was someone out there who was right for me, but I wanted it to be him.

“Thanks, Joe.” - you

“Mhm. He might be closer to you than you think…” - Joe

I looked up at him with a skeptical look on my face, but he looked serious.

“What do you mean?” - you gulped

Joe tugged at my waist and looked down at me with such a twinkle in his eyes.

“y/n… you're my best friend.” - Joe

“Mhm…” - you

“I need to tell you the truth then.” - Joe

“Joe… what?” - you

“I wasn't pissed off that you went out with Chad because I thought he'd hurt you… I was pissed because you wanted to go out with him.” - Joe

“Wh… what?” - you

“For as long as I can remember I've just been your best friend, the guy you go to complain about other guys, and I can't take it anymore.” - Joe

He tried to read my expression but when he got nothing, he dropped his arms from my waist and nervously played with his wristbands as he kept going.

“I know it sounds like a stupid Hallmark movie line… but I don't want you to keep getting hurt when there's someone who can treat you so much better right at your fingertips.” - Joe

“Who, Joe? You keep saying that but won't say who.” - you sighed

“Me! Me, y/n. I've been hopelessly in love with you for years while I just stood to the side and watched you look for love in the wrong faces. This might ruin our friendship but it's not fair if I don't tell you… I want to be more than just your best friend.” - Joe

My jaw dropped open as my heart rate rapidly increased. He felt the same way?

“You’re in love with me?” - you

“Yes, and I'm sorry if that makes things awkward… I just really want to show you that not all men are pieces of shit.” - Joe

I stood up on my tiptoes and crashed my lips into his. Joe was taken aback at first but kissed back with just as much passion.

Joe wrapped his strong arms around my waist and held me against him as we kissed. Neither one of us wanted to be the one to break away first.

In the end, I did. I needed to say those words back to him.

“Joe, I'm in love with you too.” - you

“Yeah?” - Joe smiled

“Have been for a long time, I just was worried you didn't feel the same way and it would ruin our friendship to confess.” - you

He flashed that perfect smile at me and laced his fingers with mine.

“Can I kiss you again?” - Joe

“Go for it.” - you smiled

Joe pushed me into him by my hips and my hands went to his chest.

“Everything okay out her- oh my!” - your mom

Though I'm sure Joe heard her just as well as I did, we didn't break away from each other and went on claiming each other’s lips.

When Joe and I finally did disengage from our kiss, we both laughed as he wiped his salvia off of my lips.

My arms wrapped around his middle and I laid my head on his shoulder.

“So I guess I can ask you what I've been dreaming about asking you for years.” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you grinned

“Wanna go out with me tomorrow?” - Joe

“As friends?” - you played dumb, just wanting to hear him say it

“I was thinking more of… boyfriend and girlfriend because we can skip the get-to-know-you stage right? Only if that's okay with you…” - Joe

I pulled my head away from his chest and kissed his soft, freshly shaven cheek.

“That sounds perfect to me.” - you looked into those gorgeous blue eyes you've come to be obsessed with

“Will you be my girlfriend?” - Joe

“Only if you'll be my boyfriend.” - you

“Sounds like a deal.” - Joe

Joe and I stepped away from each other before we shook hands in agreement, something we'd done to solve things since we were little.

We laughed together as we walked up to the back door hand in hand, happy that we'd probably resolved the arguing for the time being.

As we opened the door it revealed both of our moms standing there in a pose that looked like they had their ears on the door just a few seconds ago.

“Yes?” - you

“Can we help you?” - Joe

“What's going on with you two?” - Robin

“Yeah, what she said. What does this hand-holding mean?” - your mom

Joe and I exchanged a look and nonchalantly shrugged before he spoke up.

“We’re dating.” - Joe

“What?!” - your mom’s in sync

“How’d this happen? You guys have been fighting for weeks.” - your mom

“It just kinda happened.” - you shrugged

Robin and my mom looked at each other skeptically.

“Are you sure you guys aren't rushing things just a little bit?” - Robin

“Mom, I've never been more sure about anything else in my life.” - Joe

I looked at him with a surprised look on my face, he only winked with a wide grin and reassuringly squeezed my hand.

“Me too.” - you

————————————————————————-

Authors note: on the 7th day of Christmassssss y'all got whatever this is. I really wanted this to end in smut but I need to control myself. 💀

Request for this fic; thank you anon! 🤍

[its-time-to-write]

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 5

I don’t know why this fic wrecked me so much. I’m literally the author. I know what’s gonna happen. I decided what’s gonna happen. Maybe I’m just tired. also does anyone remember that time I said I hated writing chaptered fics and swearing that each one was an anomaly/the last time I’d ever do it?

table of contents you’re still everything to me

Jamie Tartt is in your kitchen, puttering around so he can make a pot of tea and with an eyebrow slit like it’s 2013 again.

He sent you to go change so you slip on sweatpants and curl up on the sofa.

“Here you are, love,” he says, setting the tea down on the coffee table. He sits on the opposite end of the sofa, a respectable distance away.

“Why didn’t I see you?” you ask, staring out the window. The room is illuminated by the streetlight glow from the kitchen.

“How d’you mean?” responds.

“I visited mum last year. I was there all day. Why didn’t I see you?”

Jamie pauses. “I went early.”

“No, no you didn’t. There weren’t any flowers when I got there, and you said you brought her flowers.”

He’s quiet long enough for you to turn and check if he’s even still in the room.

He is.

“I… saw you,” he says eventually. “Didn’t think we’d be there at the same time, but-” he raises an eyebrow as punctuation. “Anyway, I was behind a tree. Saw you sit down and at first I thought I’d just wait in the car, but you started crying and- and I didn’t know if I should say somethin’ or leave. Did neither, so I just stayed. Placed the flowers and paid my respects once you left.”

You sip your tea in silence.

After a long time you say, “I’m glad you didn’t say anything.”

“She always believed in me,” he says by way of reply. “Even when I was being a little shit, she still made me feel like she wanted me around. Three people I want to make proud the most were her, mummy, and you.”

“Wanted,” you correct. “Wanted to make proud. Mum’s gone, and we’re not even friends.”

“D’you think we ever could be?”

You consider. There’s a part of you that feels like you’re friends already. He’s in your flat for fuck’s sake. 

“I don’t know,” you say. “Honestly I don’t. I’ve only ever loved you, Jamie, and for a long time I couldn’t see the future without you. I still can’t see it, I’m just living day-by-day sometimes.”

He chews his lip. “How can I make it up to you?”

He’s asking all the hard questions tonight.

“I don’t hate you anymore,” you say frankly. “You were there for me when I needed you, and you leaving me was the worst. But it turned out good. And, I dunno, over the last few days I just keep wondering what’s gonna stop you from leaving again? Deciding you want someone else more, or my value means less?”

“Maturity.” He says it slightly drawn out, enunciating the consonants. He has a hint of a smile, which is stupid, because now you have one too.

“Seriously, though, I’m not like that anymore. Went of, was a prick, and it were shit. I’ve never heard mum that mad at me, Jesus Christ. Swore my ear off, she did. Didn’t have real friends, wasn’t happy, drank a lot of vanilla vodka. Keeley broke up with me for cheating on her, too, but not with sex, like; just on a date. Said shit about accountability.” 

He says it the same way he said maturity. 

“Hm,” you say. What else is there to say, really?

“Hm,” you say again as you reach to set your tea down and move to the other end of the couch so you’re pressed up against Jamie’s side.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

“Stay the night?” you whisper. “I don’t want to be alone and I have a guest bed.” 

Jamie nods.

—

It’s 3am, and you wake up with the sound of your mum saying your name still echoing in your room. You’d been dreaming, showing her the life you’d created and she’d smiled the whole time. She wasn’t wispy, she was the same mum who kicked a football with Jamie, sang horribly off-key with Simon, and convinced Georgie to even give him a chance in the first place. 

Tears pool in the corner of your eye.

I am not drowning. I can do this.

There’s a light tap on the door. “Come in,” you croak.

Jamie pushes it open and sticks his head in. “You’re crying,” he states. “Woke up a minute ago feeling shitty.”

You pat the bed and roll over.

Jamie climbs in under the covers and reaches tentatively for your hand. You let him take it.

“Just because I’m emotionally fragile does not mean that I forgive you,” you tell him tearfully. “I’m just pretending you never left and everything’s fine so I’m not going to hate myself for letting you into my room and letting you see me cry.”

“Alright,” he whispers. “C’mere. We’ll forget about it in the morning.”

You both move closer under the covers. You blame sleep and grief for the kiss you press to his clavicle, and you’re sure you’re dreaming they way he murmured, “How the fuck did I ever leave you?”

—

Jamie is true to his word. He doesn’t say a word when you wake up, just extricates himself from your hold and goes downstairs.

“I’ll be here for today,” he tells you once you drag yourself out of bed. “After that, you can decide how you feel about me. You don’t have to think about it today.”

It’s a four-hour drive to Manchester, and you’re not sure when it was decided that a) Jamie was coming with you, or b) that he’d be the one driving. He stops to pick up breakfast and coffee and doesn’t say a word about eating in his fancy car. You stare out the window and let the music playing over the speakers flow over you. It’s still raining, less than last night but still heavily. 

You grip Jamie’s hand with white knuckles and cry, truly cry in a way you only allow once a year but this time, there’s a new component.

I could’ve had this, you think. You and Jamie, together.

Something new tugs at your chest and you turn to look at Jamie. Tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes, and he’s sniffling a but, trying not to let it show. 

You readjust in your seat so you’re leaning against his arm, and he tilts his head to rest on yours for a fraction of a moment. 

—

Your mum’s place is the same as it always is. Her name, printed in rounded letters. The dates, signifying that she did not spend enough time here. You place down your blanket and sit, back against the headstone as usual with your head tilted up to the sky. Jamie stands a good distance away, just watching with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Hi mum,” you begin, voice cracking. “Um, I’m sorry I don’t get up here much. But that’s what kids do, right? Leave the nest and only visit on holidays. 

Things are going well still. I’ve gotten offers for collabs with some brands, so I guess that’s cool. Jamie’s here, he’s by the tree though. I don’t- I don’t know what to do about it, mum. I wish you were here. You always saw things clearer than any of us, and I just don’t know. Turns out I didn’t ever stop loving him. Keeley thinks we have this weird cosmic connection or something. Do you believe in that? I think you might have. 

I- I think we’re going to see Georgie and Simon after this. I don’t really know. I haven’t been thinking straight today, you know. I just miss you.  I want to hug you again and I promise I’m okay on my own, it’s just hard sometimes. I thought- I thought-”

You’re unable to get the rest of the words out. It’s fucking sunny out and it feels wrong, like the world should remember this is a day to mourn a soul who should’ve been around longer. The sky should at least have the decency to cry along with you. 

A hand touches your face to wipe away a tear. You wrap your arms around Jamie’s neck and he just holds you for a minute, an hour, a year. Time might be passing but you’re unaware of it. He’s whispering in your ear, saying, “I’ve got you, it’s alright love, take as much time as you need,” but it’s only sounds to you. Sweet sounds, but not comprehensible words. 

It’s safe, here. It shouldn’t be, here on your mother’s grave with your cheating ex-boyfriend in your arms, but it doesn’t feel like that. 

It feels more like you’ve finally arrived home after years of travel. 

Jamie feels the same as he did before he made it to the Premier League, back when he’d nick flowers from a garden and climb through your window late at night, not like the prideful boy who broke your heart in five minutes over the phone. 

“I’m here as long as you need,” he murmurs, and you believe him. 

You pull away slightly to look him in the face. “I love you,” you say. 

He smiles, but only with his eyes as he swipes a thumb under your eye. “I love you too,” he says. “Don’t think I ever really stopped.”

It’s at that exact moment that the sun disappears behind a cloud and it begins to rain. 

table of contents

[shihalyfie]

It's a loaded topic that I generally try not to bring up much because of the various controversies surrounding it, and a few years ago, I was hesitant to mention this in public because there was no way to frame it in a way that didn't sound like a hate post. (That, and admittedly, I probably was not in the right mental frame to handle it well back then; a lot of things have changed in the last few years.) But now this has been on record and even alluded to via official sources, and I don't see a point in being touchy about it anymore, so here's something I really wish more people would understand when they talk about tri., Kizuna, and 02TB:

Between tri. and Kizuna/02TB, almost the entire production system was overhauled, and there are almost no key staff members in common.

I know it's tempting to treat "Toei" like it's some kind of monolith, but it's very important to remember that any stylistic differences in approach or concept between tri. and Kizuna/02TB aren't just because of answering critical reception, but also because almost the entire production system was scooped out and redone from scratch. The one key member they have in common is Kizuna/02TB producer Kinoshita, who was brought onto tri. as late as part 5 and has explicitly stated that he wasn't involved on its story.

The reason this overhaul happened also wasn't just because of something like "people didn't like tri. (in terms of story content)". For one, tri. was subject to a lot of troubled production behind the scenes -- and I'm not making this up, it's on record that they ran out of budget halfway through and had to rewrite the rest of the plot. But another important thing that may not be as clear to people who only learned about it after the fact is that tri. was a downright PR disaster at the time it was going on, such as:

The infamous "nade-nade" incident (ask anyone who was present during the tri. announcement and they'll probably be able to tell you the details)

The director openly saying things like the fact he deliberately does not look at the source material when making adaptations because he sees it as too limiting, accompanied by a number of other inflammatory statements in magazines, etc. suggesting that he probably had never seen the original Adventure to begin with and saw it as a series he needed to make as more "mature", even to the point of rejecting character-accurate scripts for it (that said, it is very important to remember that a series is far more than just one staff member, and there are other staff members who did say they watched it and clearly did their research, so the point I'm making is that the director's attitude naturally made a lot of people in the audience very angry and is a big reason he started currying a bad industry reputation during and even after tri.'s run)

Magazine interviews with staff members and other Q&As generally being so vague and unwilling to answer questions clearly that it got people upset (for example, when a social media campaign soliciting questions for a Q&A session was held for a screening of part 6, it was said to be "suspiciously" too dark to actually answer the questions)

So when you see discussion about tri. being controversial because of "contradictions in the setting" or whatnot, it's not people getting petty about characterization, it's because the production system for tri. managed to make a ton of public relations decisions that unilaterally pissed a ton of people off, so having contradictions in the lore and characterization came off as being due to carelessness and negligence more than anything.

Right now, the series has been over for more than five years, so I'm not bringing all of this up because I want to start an angry mob against the series or anything (I myself have a lot of favorite things that had clearly troubled production issues and controversial statements from staff members, so I'm not saying this alone should be grounds to evaluate a series). The point I'm making is that I see way too many people talking like tri. and Kizuna/02TB were made under the same mentality by a vaguely-defined concept of "Toei" and that any differences in approach are from some bizarre hypocrisy where they keep contradicting themselves. What happened here was that they saw the public relations fallout, realized it wasn't a good idea to continue getting people mad, and completely overhauled everything with entirely different people and an entirely different approach -- and the fact they did not do a similar complete overhaul between Kizuna and 02TB is conversely why they share more in common.

[piratesfromspace]

Night Blue (Price x Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Price

Rated: Mature

Word count: 3k

Summary: "Between two containers, he sees the target, bloodied and tied up to the floor." or when Price comes to your rescue.

Note: I'm not the author of this fic, it is actually a Christmas gift from my boyfriend (yes I have the best boyfriend ever)! He writes for a living and has yet to dip his toes in fanfic territories, but I think he did fantastic and was very good at writing with the female gaze in mind. His take on Price has me drooling. He used the codename Rain, but note this is not part of the Rain Universe. Please let him know in the comment what you think of his first CoD fanfic!

Content: military!fem!reader, Reader has blue eyes but no body description other than that, mention of food & alcohol, rescue mission, implied torture, competency kink, typical level of violence

Muffled voices. Metallic clinking. Crowded interior. This could be your next mission. Or the last one. But it isn’t. It’s only a date. Well, Only. If only “only” could be only. It isn’t. It’s been years. You know him. This isn’t a first. But somehow, your heart is racing. It’s a fancy restaurant, after all. In the middle of good old London. He always had great taste, if not old-fashioned. But he’s late. He’s always late. You never understood that. How could someone that precise on the field be this messy in civvy street? Where the heck is he?

Did he try to take the tube? Again? He can’t do that. Not anymore. Not after what happened the last time 141 was deployed in London. He should be in a cab right now, on his way, with a big, innocent grin on his face. At least, you hope he is. You don’t want to drink this expensive bottle alone. Spend the night by yourself. Fall asleep in a cold bed. 

“Don’t let me down, Bravo 6.”

You said it aloud with a sigh. Someone answers.

“Oh, you know I won’t, darling.”

He’s here. Where did he come from? Doesn’t matter. His noise discipline is on point. That’s something he brings from the field. Ever so stealthy, he takes the chair before you and says “hi” in his thick accent. Thick as his moustache. What’s the name again? Mutton chops or something. He’s so damn proud of it. It’s cute. You noticed he trimmed it for the occasion and probably added some kind of oil to it. You smell it from here. An odd but somewhat comforting smell. Like a cosy fireplace or a warmish glass of Scotch. You wonder if your sheets will smell like that in the morning. He’s trying to say something, but you're already lost in the thought. Split seconds where you don’t listen, only think about those infamous mutton chops climbing your legs. Focus, damn it. What is he wearing? A suit? That’s strange. Well, you always thought anything besides a loaded chest rig looked weird on him. Wait, no. That’s not true. He wears jumpers and cardigans quite nicely. You always pictured him as an old British gentleman. A sailor embarking on a frail boat. Or a hunter walking to a black forest. Something like that. Old-fashioned indeed. It’s an acquired taste. 

So you talk. Like a lot. Spend time in each other’s eyes. Those grey-blue marbles, in which you see more than what is said. The joy of the moment, of being here, yes. But also the sadness, the pain. What is supposedly left behind, somewhere on a desolated field, and yet always comes back to scratch those eyes. It’s okay. You have the same. That’s why it’s working. But you remember. You remember how bright, much brighter, these eyes were the first time you saw them.

TEN YEARS AGO

Black and white. Night and snow. Somewhere in Northern Europe, the winter wind sweeps the clouds across the sky and dusts the flakes off the trees. But two bushes remain still. Until they don’t. All ghillied up, two operators crawl in powder snow. They talk as loud as the wind allows them to. 

“Follow me and keep low, lieutenant. Target’s right ahead.” 

“Solid copy.”

Captain MacMillan leads the way in near-total silence. His second in command, Lieutenant John Price, tries to keep up. He misses the warmth of the base. Of a pub. Of anything warmer than this icy desert at this point. But he needs to stay focused. They’re deep into enemy territory, trying to retrieve an ally he only knows by reputation. A track record he admires. So he wonders. What happened? A trap? A mistake? Perhaps it’s a warning in disguise. It goes to show that no one is ever too good to get caught. To get killed. 

Listen to the captain. Do what the captain says, his head repeats. Enough to forget his instincts or the will to think for himself. Violence and timing. Once you’re on the field, only these two matter. They don’t require you to think. Only to act, and act at the right moment. Old man MacMillan told him so. And despite his age, Alpha Six is teaching him a lesson. The captain moves like a damn ghost. The cold doesn’t seem to bother him. It’s almost like the snow melts around him so he can look like a real bush. The deadliest bush in the country, probably.

“It’s a goddamn convention around here, John.”

Price looks down. The warehouse and its surroundings are barely lit, but using thermal goggles, he can already count twelve guns guarding the target, plus three engineers working on an Infantry Fighting Vehicle. Guards, not soldiers. The new plague of the free world: PMCs. Former soldiers, swapping insignias for fatter paychecks. Russian, probably. He hears them talking through the wind. Or maybe French. They hire all across Europe, after all. The captain’s accent brings him back to Scotland.

“We could wait for them to break off, but that’d be playing with the target’s life, and we’d probably freeze our asses to death… There’s only one way to do this, innit?”

“Right. Care for a suggestion, captain?”

“I’m all hears, lieutenant.”

“That IFV. Maybe it is operational. Maybe it isn’t. I don’t want to find out. We take it down first. C4 should do the trick. They hear the boom. We split. You dance, I get inside. Once the target’s identity is confirmed, I take the long trek home through the forest, and meet you at LZ.” 

“You forget your rank, lieutenant. Why should I be the one dancing, John?”

“With all due respect captain, you forget your back. I’m sure the target’s a big boy. Unless you’re ready for the fireman carry of your life, you let me do it. If you hurt yourself, who will put those Christmas lights on the tree? Your wife will never forgive me…”

“Alright John, lead the way.” 

They don’t need their ghillies anymore. The bushes become men. They check their weapons. Price is about to take point when MacMillan nudges him. His fatherly smile almost lights the dark.

“The next time you bring my wife into this kid, you’re going down.”

“Roger that, captain.”

One of the engineers went for a cigarette. Lord bless the smokers. They all leave their post, eventually. Even when they don’t, that smoke will shake their focus. Move fingers away from triggers, grenades, alarms. Enjoy that last cigarette, lad. This smoke’s about to kill you faster than lung cancer. MacMillan jumps from the white shadows, arms instantly locked on his prey. His combat knife bites. Screams die in the engineer’s throat. Blood bubbles explode. The wind covers almost everything. The fluff of the snow takes care of the rest. 

Words come to them, though, and both captain and lieutenant freeze instantly. Their weapons are up, ready to strike. But they don’t want to fight. Not here, not now. More words. Price is trying to make sense of them, but he skipped too many classes for that. Damn you and your bad boy attitude, he thinks, until he hears a laugh. The words are repeated, but not as a question. That delivery transcends all languages. It’s a joke. Tension goes down, but MacMillan is already one step ahead. 

Pripyat. Urzikstan. Many more. Price has fought next to the captain since he joined the SAS. It’s a weird thing, but by now, he probably knows him better than friends. Better than family. And it shows. They don’t have to speak, but that’s always been a requirement on the field. What’s more impressive is they don’t have to sign full sentences either. They’ve experienced enough settings and parameters to understand how the situation will eventually play out. So they commit to the action, together, before the scenario can even start. Like two polished pieces of the same high-precision clock, they act as one to define time itself. 

“Together”, he signs.

For the two engineers, it’s time to die. Focused on the scratched hull of their IFV, these poor bastards never see it coming. A .45 ACP bullet penetrates their skulls at subsonic speed and settles down in their brains, avoiding any ricochet on the armoured surface of the vehicle. They climb on top of the tank. Price removes the bodies to find a hatch while MacMillan gets a block of C4 ready. Except for the wind, the place is silent. Which means no one knows they’re here. Good. But it could also mean the target is dead by now. The same thought has crossed the captain’s mind. He suddenly acts faster, despite the gloves and the numbed fingers they’re supposed to protect. Price follows and places the C4 inside the IFV, next to what he remembers to be a fuel tank.

About ninety-two seconds later, John learns his memories are correct. From the safety of distance, MacMillan has blown the IFV straight to hell in one glorious explosion. But it only takes about twenty more seconds for the PMC to react, learns Price on his watch. And that’s bad news. They’re still sharp. Drilled. Ready to respond. And they do. John counts half of them spreading out of the warehouse through truck gates and access doors. Their plan is sound. They’re looking out, trying to nullify the effect of surprise with a solid assessment of who or what is outside.

And it’s only one man, but he gives them a round for their money. MacMillan uses every trick in the book and every weapon he carries to make them think there’s a whole squad hunting for them behind the snow, between those big black trees. And they fall for it. At least one of the mercenaries does, and chooses to provide firing support from the door he was supposed to shut behind his comrades. 

John sees the opportunity immediately. Timing. In just a few rounds, the mercenary will have to reload. Or maybe he will suddenly realise the door is still open and stop firing. An empty mag hits the floor, and Price jumps out of cover. Violence. He grabs the mercenary’s weapon with one hand while the other secures the kill. The bastard’s heavy, and the thump of his fall makes a lot of noise. Silenced handgun raised, Price waits for a moment, scanning the entry corridor for potential targets. But no one comes. More words, inside. More shots, outside. Chaos is settling in, everywhere.

Another opportunity, then. Price presses on, checking his corners with the precision of a machine. A door opens to his right. Two mercs, rushing out of a room to help their comrades overwhelmed by MacMillan’s tactics. John is almost as surprised as they are, but not quite. Timing. They’re too fast, and likely to fire from the hip. Violence. He empties his mag on the two targets. One mercenary drops suddenly, like a puppet cut from its strings. The other falls, but slowly. His vest caught the heat. If he’s good, there’s a chance he might go for a sidearm, or a knife. No time to reload then. Price runs and then falls on his knees to finish his target with a clean cut from his combat blade. The bastard knows death is coming, but he’s not ready to embrace it just yet. His arms move in a life-or-death reflex, and Price is stopped a few centimetres away from a kill. There’s no timing anymore. Only violence, a test of raw strength. John tries to stab the merc down the neck. The poor guy can’t do anything but buy some time, and wait a few seconds for someone to go check the corridor. But no one comes for him. Only death, in the form of a straight silver blade slowly piercing his throat.

Rolling to the side, Price suddenly remembers to breathe. Staying on his back, he reloads his weapon without thinking, his two eyes locked on the door the mercs have opened seconds prior. He counts. One when he entered. Two in the corridor. With half of them still outside fighting MacMillan, that’s two mercenaries unaccounted for. Usually, it is the wounded, the insecure or the frightened you leave behind. But when it comes to target protection, it’s the other way around. Your last wall of defence is also the toughest. The big guns stay with the target until the end. If Price wasn’t so actively trying not to think, maybe he would have remembered that. 

He enters the room. More like a hangar. It’s dark. Only the moon and distant muzzle flashes provide some light through large, rectangular windows. Timing? Put the night vision set on, find the bastards, and apply a bit of violence. Wait. Price holds on to his set. Did someone cut the power? It could be MacMillan toying with them. But more likely, the mercs have figured their opponents are properly equipped. And now, they’re just waiting for Price to put his night vision on. They want him to rely on the tool, for there’s no faster way to blind a man than putting the power back at the right moment. So Price throws the night vision set away, into the room. Five thousand quid of government-issued tech crash on the industrial floor. One second. Two seconds. The light goes back and the night vision set dies a second time, broken apart by crossfire. 

The shots from the right probably came from that little accounting office Price sees through a piece of shattered glass. He resists the urge to throw a grenade, that could threaten the target’s life. His back on the wall, he’s getting closer to the office. More words. They come from the left. These mercs can’t shut up to save their lives. What is it this time? There’s a trace of panic in the sentences. They’re probably asking for reinforcements, but there’s a hell lot of static on the other end of the line. MacMillan has done his part, and there’s no military base around anyway. In typical Laswell fashion, Kate had saved the only piece of good news for the end of her briefing, Price remembers. So good luck with that, lad. But keep talking. The echo allows John to move closer and closer to his next kill. Until the warehouse is silent again. Until something inside the office decides to move. 

It’s a lock. Inside the door, it jiggles enough for Price to notice someone’s about to leave the office. He waits for the final click to bash the gate. It arrives a split-second later, and John kicks the door like his dad used to kick rugby balls on Sunday mornings. Wood breaks. Bones follow. Price puts another bullet in another skull. It happens so fast the merc can’t even fight or scream. But his finger was already on the trigger, so his assault rifle yelled for him. The burst catches price off-guard. Bullets pound his plate and the walls alike. He falls. 

When the kick finally fades, the world is backwards. Literally. Between two containers, he sees the target, bloodied and tied up to the floor. Or is it the ceiling? He’s not sure anymore. His ears are buzzing. His chest is compressed by the impact. There’s no gun in his hands. He wants to rise but he can’t. Someone comes. Someone that’s not MacMillan. Price rolls from back to belly. The world looks finally looks right again. Well, right as it can be when you’re crawling unarmed in the face of the Grim Reaper.

His weapon raised, the last merc stops next to the target and fires. Not rounds, but words. More words. Insults, probably. Weirdly, they’re not aimed at Price. They’re for whoever is still under the same black hood they always put on prisoners. She answers, proudly, in their language. 

Wait, she?

Gunshots. They come from outside, from the forest. Surprised, the last merc tries to sneak a look between the crates. Price gathers the little strength he has left to look for a weapon. But he’s still dizzy. A hippo with a full belly would be faster. He looks up, facing death with both eyes open. Only death doesn’t come for him. The target is free. She climbs on the mercenary like a damn spider, using her legs to maintain the bastard’s weapon against his chest while she strangles him with the little piece of plastic tying her two hands. John finally finds his sidearm. He wants to help her. He wants to shoot. But SAS lieutenant John Price is not so sure of his aim anymore. So he looks, and eventually, the mercenary crumbles.

Price now moves a bit faster and a bit closer. The target’s still fighting. But her prey is long dead. There’s no breathing left in him. His neck is broken. So broken that little piece of plastic is slowly severing head from body. And yet she fights, furiously. Moving slowly, talking even slower, he tries to calm her down. She releases her grip on the dead mercenary. Describing his every move out loud, John carefully guides his blade between her two hands and next to her neck. Underneath the bruises and the cuts, she’s a woman alright. Their eyes locked. Back to the mission.

“Lieutenant John Price, British SAS. I need your codename, fast.”

“Why are you here? I had it under control!” 

Her voice is confident. Not a single taint of doubt in it. Price chuckles.

“I’m not sure I see it that way, darling. Now, give me your codename so I can get you out of here.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

Again. Confident. She’s looking at the half-decapitated mercenary with disdain, not disgust. She killed before. In more ways than one. More brutal ways. 

“I had it under control.”

Her time to chuckle. She pauses. Takes one good look at him. That sort of threatening gaze birds of prey will give you if you happen to drive through their land. She measures. Judges. And weirdly enough, the whole thing ends with a sight smile.

“Codename’s Rain. Nice to meet you, lieutenant. Now, can a lady get a proper extraction, or what?”

“Sure thing, ma’am. Follow me.” 

They grab some gear and step out of the warehouse. Outside, the night is silent again. The moon shines on the black of the trees. The white of the snow. The red of the dead bodies. 

And the blue of their eyes. 

[canonicallyobserving911]

Eddie Diaz's "Ghost of a Second Chance"

IMO, in 7x7, Eddie Diaz will have a chance to see or hear how the life he always believed he was "supposed" to have with a wife and kids is not the life he's been WANTING. Based on his heart eyes and the way he's used Chris as a shield for his heart, his ideal life includes a husband (Buck) and their son (Chris).

Be clear, I ONLY SHIP BUDDIE!

I waited to post this because when season 7 started, it was unclear where the show was going to take Eddie's storyline and it appears the redirection of it that happened prior to 7x4 and 7x5 was not the original plan since it's been confirmed via interviews that Eddie was supposed to be with T*mmy instead of Buck. Also, now that it's confirmed Shannon Diaz will make a return in a future season 7 episode as either a ghost or a hallucination or whatever for Eddie, I decided I was ready to post this.

At the end of season 6 when Eddie asked Maris*l out on a date, I thought about the way the narrative has always shown Shannon is the only person who can help Eddie understand Chris doesn't need another mother. He's been carrying the weight and guilt of their relationship around with him for years because he thought him going to the Army broke her when in fact, they were two broken teenagers who were in over their heads and they were so busy trying to mimic the lives they saw Eddie's parents living that they never discussed what either of them wanted out of life.

Unpopular Opinion: Eddie and Shannon were NOT this perfect high school aged Romeo and Juliet type of romantic couple some people keep trying to make them out to be because the truth is they weren't soulmates and they weren't compatible. While it's true they were best friends, they were never on the same page and they didn't know how to communicate. Instead of talking to each other, all they did was argue and have sex but matured relationships consist of more than just sex, hence the 7x5 depiction of Eddie's relationship with Maris*l. They don't know each other and the episode title, "You don't know me" confirmed it.

Full Disclosure: I'm not a Shannon Diaz fan and it has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH BUDDIE! It's strictly because she ABANDONED Chris, her biological son and the fact that she was a teen mother doesn't have anything to do with it because it does NOT excuse her behaviors. Teenage girls who were/are younger than her don't/didn't run out on their kids just because they need/needed time. If she didn't want to be with Eddie anymore that's fine but to leave and not attempt to contact her son for almost two years was NOT ok. She wrote Chris a letter that she wasn't even sure she would send but what happened to a phone call or her sending him a "Hey Chris, I love you and I miss you" email? Even back then there were too many ways she could have contacted him but the CANON FACTS are SHE CHOSE NOT TO. If Eddie wouldn't have called her to interview at Durand she would have stayed gone. Don't get it twisted because she was getting ready to leave Chris again so people should stop romanticizing their relationship and truthfully, so does Eddie. For CANON proof of these claims, all viewers have to do is LISTEN to the things she said to him in 2x17 when they were at the beach and when they were at the restaurant.

Eddie's my favorite character but he's not blameless in any of this either and by his own admission to Buck in 2x10, he left them first. But the difference is he made the DECISION to leave El Paso so he could provide a better life for him and his son even though his toxic mother, Helena (I'm not including Ramon because he had a redemption arc) offered to take Chris from him. He could have left Chris there but HE DIDN'T. He even told Shannon that being Chris' father taught him more about being a man than war ever could.

One last thing, Shannon and Maddie ARE NOT THE SAME! Maddie didn't abandon Jee-Yun, she left because she thought she was a danger to her and she went to get help. She wasn't in Boston galivanting around, shopping and partying like it was 1999, she went to a center for women to figure out what was wrong with her and why she felt like she did then she continued with therapy.

Now back to the regularly scheduled program...

While I don't like Shannon's actions, I do believe she's probably the only person who can help Eddie understand that he doesn't have to marry a "woman" to be happy. Why do I believe this? Well, they were best friends and they were married which means she knows things about Eddie that no one else does. She was the first woman he "pulled" away from and since they were separated for a long time while he was in the Army and after she left them, it's likely she figured some things out about what he really wants that neither of them was ready to confront.

Since 2x1, Eddie's story has been told in bits and pieces and while a lot of people romanticized what he had with her, I didn't because they were young and neither one of them knew what they wanted. Did he love her? He said he did but IMO he loved her as much as an 18-year-old could but I don't believe he was in love with her. Did she love him? She said she did but just like him, based solely on her actions, she didn't know what love was either.

Reminder, the only reason Eddie proposed they reconcile in 2x17 was because she thought she was pregnant again. He said he was looking for a sign and he thought her begin pregnant was it but before that he didn't want to do it. If you don't believe it, rewatch 2x17 and LISTEN to the conversation he had with Bobby. Bobby was the one who told him he would be a great dad to a second child but Eddie wasn't so sure. At dinner, when Shannon said, "I'm not pregnant", he paused then responded, "That doesn't change anything" but she rebutted with, "It does for me".

It appears she finally admitted to him that the life they were trying to live was NOT the one either of them wanted but he wasn't ready to admit it. He was using Chris as a shield like he always does and he was hoping her love for their son would be enough for them to reconcile and continue doing whatever they were doing. He said something similar to Ana when he broke up with her in 5x3. He said, "Chris loves you so much" but he never said he did and now he's trying to figure out where Maris*l fits since she babysat twice while he was flying in helicopters going to fight matches in Las Vegas and to karaoke with TK.

Believe it or not, Shannon was getting ready to leave again. If she wasn't then she wouldn't have brought up the letter she wrote to Chris. Also, she said she was still learning how to be someone's mother (notice she didn't say Chris' mother she said someone's) and she said maybe someday, she could learn how to be somebody's wife (not Eddie's wife but somebody's). Furthermore, when they were at the beach, she asked Eddie, "Is that all I am to you, Christopher's mother?" but he responded, "Shannon?" and deflected the conversation. Then she said if that's what it is then it's ok. She proceeded and asked him what he wanted and all he said was "All of this" with a hand wave out towards the ocean. He never admitted what he wanted and it appears the reason was because he didn't want to say.

In 2x7, while they were arguing, Eddie asked her, "What didn't I give you?" and her response was "You!" Therefore, Eddie always kept a piece of himself away from her and she admitted it to him but he wanted it to work probably for the wrong reasons.

REMINDER: In 2x17, Shannon was the one who said they needed to get a DIVORCE! She knew they needed to move on but Eddie was the one who said, "But we're still married". It appears he was the one trying to hold onto the life he believed they were supposed to have and I think it goes back to the example he saw from his parents.

Here's the thing, in 6x16, Eddie admitted he didn't propose to Shannon, he just said, "Let's get married" after they found out she was pregnant. They were best friends in high school and they started an instant family that neither of them were ready for. When she abruptly died, he didn't have a chance to discuss all the things they'd left unsaid. That's why Shannon has to be the one to tell him that it's ok for him to want who he wants. Who's that? BUCK!

Shannon vs. Buck

Please understand the show has illustrated it time and time again that Eddie wants to marry Buck so they can raise Chris together. If that wasn't the case, then Buck wouldn't have been included in Eddie's flashbacks in 3x15 while he was trapped in the well as many times as he was. He was shown with Chris more than anyone else which means Eddie thinks about the life he wants to have with Buck A LOT!

Additionally, in 7x1, Buck, Eddie and Shannon all sat on Chris' bed in the same spot to illustrate how they're his three parents while the babysitter (Maris*l) was nowhere to be found (related post linked here).

Also, Shannon's romantic relationship with Eddie and her parental one with Chris were constantly contrasted with the relationships Eddie and Chris have with Buck and Buck has always been shown to be the perfect match for Eddie. Reminder, he agreed to have Buck's back in 2x1 but Shannon told him in 2x7 that he never had her back.

Eddie needs to HEAR he can move on from the first person he married from someone other than the people who've been saying it to him. Also, in the past, someone's ALWAYS told him what to do regarding his relationships. He was "strongly encouraged" to marry Shannon because he got her pregnant. His parents and Bobby told him it was time to move on from her in season 4 (YES! His parents did too because reminder, they stopped by their house to eat on their way back to L.A. after they left Austin, TX [in the LS crossover episode, Eddie said it to Judd] and two episodes later, in 4x6, Bobby told him he needed to move on). Then in 6x14, Tia Pepa pushed him to start dating again even though he tried to tell her he wasn't ready.

The point of this post is Shannon is probably the ONLY person who can show or tell Eddie that the life he thought they should have had, wouldn't have ever been because there would have always been someone or something that was pulling him away from her the same way it did when they were married 👀.

It appears Shannon will be Eddie's "Ghost of a Second Chance" but the question is, will her reappearance as a ghost or whatever for the second time in season 7 help Eddie admit the person he's in love with is Buck? Only the showrunner, writers and producers know the answer to that question.

[artificial-transmutations]

Transformation Letter: Aster

Hello I'm Aster I'm a 26 year old Omega male that's 5'9 and on the heavier side, but I want to do something special for my boyfriend Moris who's a 21 year old Alpha male that's 6'1 and pretty skinny. I want to surprise Moris hoping you can help us get more into our roles as a 5'4 slender Omega and a 6'7 Alpha Daddy. Hope you can help me with this surprise. Oh and for physical description Aster is 5'9 large male with black medium length hair in half ponytail and Moris is 6'1 skinny male with long black hair pulled back into ponytail.

How sweet! You want to deepen your relationship with your sweatheart! Let's see how that goes.

What a pleasant surprise would that be if it really works! Sure, your boyfriend Moris has all the right mindset for being an Alpha, and while the two of you try to act out this fantasy in the bedroom a lot, his skinny build doesn't really fit his behavior.

So, without him knowing, you have sent that letter and hope that whoever is behind this Transformation Letter initiative can improve that aspect of your relationship.

It is your anniversary, some weeks later and you have come to the conclusion that, probably, the whole thing has been a scam. However, as you are preparing dinner for Moris, you suddenly feel a strange sense of vertigo. Looking down on the stove you notice that it seems to be somewhat farther away than before.

What is going on?! Is everything getting smaller or...? No! You are getting taller! But this is wrong! If anything, you wanted to get smaller, as it is fitting for your Omega role.

Still, the growth persists. You are slowly getting taller, centimeter by centimeter. As you look down on yourself, your clothes reveal that this is not the only change by far. Your clean and youthful skin matures before your very eyes, with more and more small black hairs breaking through.

Your somewhat heavy belly, however, seems to shrink away. No, that's not right. It doesn't *shrink* so much as it *redistributes* itself. Some of the fat is becoming muscle, while other layers stay fat but slowly flow from the singular point of your unfit belly all over your body.

You roll your shoulders. Your shirt is quickly getting uncomfortable. Not only is it not long enough to cover your upper body anymore, but it is also not wide enough to have room for your expanding shoulders and chest. With some difficulties, you discard the clothes, only to be amazed by what you find underneath: You are gaining a toned and well-built six-pack and pecs, both covered by a padding of fat and a layer of hair!

It is hard to tell, but you feel like your legs are changing as well. The skin has taken on a slightly darker shade, and your thighs and calves become more muscular.

Meanwhile, a nice coating of black body hair has spread all over your chest, shoulders, and arms. As you feel your face, it has also changed considerably. You are growing a thick, bushy beard that feels surprisingly soft to the touch.

With the changes to your face, it seems like the last thing that is happening to your head is a change in perspective. Why should Moris have all the fun being the Alpha Daddy? You feel new urges erupting in your mind that are hard to suppress: Your libido goes through the roof, and with it, a dominant side in you that you never knew awakes, like a wild animal, unable to be put back to sleep again.

The transformation continues, and suddenly, the front of your jeans explodes, as your cock and balls grow into an impressive piece of manhood. Your underwear doesn't even survive the process and disintegrates, leaving you naked and exposed in your new body.

You quickly get out of your jeans, mainly because it is getting really painful and marvel at the sight of your new cock and balls: It is a big, veiny, and uncut monster that hangs heavily between your legs, and your balls are two round, heavy orbs that are covered in the same dark and coarse hair as the rest of your body.

Finally, you seem to have reached a size that feels appropriate to you and a harness forms over your massive chest, and you begin to realize that the transformation is finished. Your fat cock is half-hard (as it will be more or less constantly from now on) and is dripping with precum. You can't wait for Moris to come home. Even though it isn't what you had in mind, you can hardly wait to dominate his twink ass that he surely has by now.

As if on cue, the apartment door opens. However, instead of Moris as you knew him or Moris as you expected him to be (a small and slender Omega, which is what you originally wanted to become yourself), you see an equally built giant of a man.

The two of you look at each other for a moment. It is not only that this man Moris has become is as big as you. He is also just as hairy, just as mature, and just as muscular. His hair color is just as black dotted with silver as yours. In fact, Moris is now a splitting mirror image of yourself. BOTH of you have become a huge hairy muscle daddy, with the dominant mind to go along with!

The moment is broken and the two of you begin to make out heavily, your fat cocks rubbing together in anticipation. It looks like you are going to need to find some Omega bitch boy to play with!

[hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog]

HELLOOOOOO

I have been semi stalking and poking my head into this account a lot since I adore fanfic anons content. And I would like to propose my own little AU and maybe fanfics for a later date (keyword, maybe since I may also post these onto my ao3) BUT LE CONSIDER:

Based semi on the AU from user AppleParty on Twitter, mainly just one idea, the one where Alastor is Lucifer’s personal guard, the rest is my own.

Basic gist: Alastor makes a deal with Lucifer. Lucifer grants Alastor all the power he desires, but Alastor has to vow to protect Charlie with his life and try and help parent her as Lucifer knows he is not in the right mental state to do so anymore. So Alastor ends up vanishing for 7+ years to help raise and protect the Princess of Hell, while also having a budding friendship with Lucifer (So Hell's Greatest Dad turns from dad off to a tongue and cheek teasing match).

Everything is fine and dandy, some of the same plot points from the pilot happen instead with the inclusion of Alastor. Vaggie and Alastor also have a more mutual respect but not friends yet relationship. The interview goes horribly wrong and Vaggie has to hold Alastor back from ripping Katie Killjoy’s head off. The scene in the limo is more tense as Angel is avoiding the piss off guard dog that is the radio demon now. Alastor tries to cheer Charlie up by cashing in some favors by calling up Nifty and Husk, probably in this AU, Husk is still not an overlord as Alastor owns his soul still, but Husk has more power and having to raise Charlie probably has matured Alastor more so him and Husk are more on even ground and Alastor looks at Husk as more as an advice giver when he needs it. Nifty is just Nifty. The two agree to work at the hotel as they are doing Alastor a favor and they believe in Charlie’s dream. Alastor is up for debate as he may only be doing this because he has to since he is her personal guard or he actually believes in it. The only thing he will say on the matter is he finds it entertaining and he can’t wait to see the chaos start.

All things are going good, they plan on celebrating and everything until a knock comes to the door. Alastor excuses himself, shooing off Vaggie to tell her she should be with her girlfriend, he will handle the matters. He goes to answer the door, being speaking in a manner tone until he opens his eyes and is greeted to

Vox

BECAUSE YEAH SPOILER ALERT THIS IS A STATICRADIO AU HAHAHAH

Alastor’s smile drops and he hisses in anger and slams the door shut in Vox’s face, not even giving the Overlord a chance to speak as he storms back into the lobby. Cue Charlie having to rush over and mediate everything and bring Vox in, who saw the interview on TV and wants to sponsor the hotel. Because well, hey it would be good money and it would be funny to see Charlie try and redeem sinners. But everyone can TELL there is tension between him and Alastor, like the scary kind of tension when you have no clue if person a is gonna lunge and rip out person b’s throat. But you know its there since they have a history together.

Cue all the hijinks that ensue as Alastor and Vox have to try and repair their relationship while also helping Charlie out with her dream. Also more chaos than normal since Alastor probably accompanies Charlie to more places than in canon.

But that is all hehe. Am gonna give myself a sign off so people know who I am soo

-⚔️aka “Hotel’s Radio Guard AU” (work in title au name) Anon!

I love your energy my friend, on this blog we appreciate fanfic anon, spamming, and all kinds of AUs

The beginning of this is similar to dadstaticradio au (except lucifer instead of lilith ofc) but there is no issue I take with that bc I love it

Also referring to Alastor as guard dog and "Niffty is just Niffty" made me laugh, if you ever do post on Ao3 pls tag me in it or sent a link in asks and I'll share it on your behalf