#also if any of my takes seen stupid to anyone that’s entirely on me I’m super bad with understanding story elements sometimes

[sc0tters]

Missing You | Nico Hischeir

summary: when you and Nico haven’t seen each other for a month his teammates pull off the surprise of a lifetime when you both needed it the most.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, swearing, slight exhibitionist kink?

word count: 2.68k

authors note: welcome to the fourth instalment of the 1000 celly, and what I think is our first one with a mclaren driver. I have missed writing for this boy so much! this is also the first smut of 2024 if I'm not mistaken! we also aren't going to acknowledge that this has taken me like four days to write this...

You knew you were in love with Nico.

It was hard not to be, he had been your boyfriend for the last four and a half years and you didn't want anything more. When you were with Mclaren you met him when he was on a trip to Belgium you two met during a party. You had just won the first race of your career but the moment you saw him, the world all of a sudden didn’t matter to you. But by the end of the night you couldn’t get enough of him. 

Yet as your careers both got ahead of you and it meant that the only real time you found yourself together was a three week period where you were both off in the summer break. But after this year it felt awkward for you both. You were coming up to the Austin leg of the season and with that it meant that you were back in the states. It seemed that both of you let your careers take hold of your lives, so even though you had a week off you didn’t know if Nico wanted to spend the time with you. 

That was compounded by the fact that you guys had a stupid argument, and when Nico ended the call with how he thought it would have been best if you didn’t come in your week off.

Nico had been having a rough week so when the video came up of you and Lando being interviewed by a child, it was the cherry on top of the shit cake. Not even your FaceTime call could have taken him out of it “there you are love!” You smiled as you saw the picture connect “finally found some time away from Lando?” Nico grumbled as he hadn’t even finished the video when you called. 

Your face dropped as you furrowed your eyebrows “you okay?” You trailed off as it only seemed to piss him off further “why do you have to go get all flirty with your teammate?” The accusation made you freeze “okay back the fuck up hotshot.” You warned as you raised your hand signaling to him to stop. 

It wasn’t often that you two fought but after months without sex - or any variation of it - you were both frustrated “I did not flirt with my teammate or anyone because I’m in love with you!” You were close to hanging up as you glared at him “you’ve got a funny way of showing that.” Nico laughed as he shook his head. 

You were doing alright at the moment with your racing, many podiums and even a win in the season that could all but have been called Max’s. But with one DNF and one DNS coming right after each other, you were now stressed “look don’t make your team playing like shit right now my fault.” You grumbled not realizing that the comment had slipped out “if we’re so shit then maybe you shouldn’t come!” With that Nico hung up leaving you with the reflection of your shocked face. 

As much as you wanted to apologize for what you had said, you were still upset that he could have ever questioned how you felt about him. It was clear the entire world noted how both of you were currently struggling not only in your sports but also how you just seemed to be out of it. You missed your boyfriend but as fans would have you sign random pieces of devils merch as the announcement of your relationship upon your win in Austria two years ago came with a whole new group of fans. 

So when you were sat in the comfort of your hotel room and got the message from Jack asking if you wanted to come to a devs game before the race in Vegas, you knew you couldn’t say no. Not when this was attached. 

Jacky Hughes: he misses you, even if he won’t say it

The text made your heart break especially after you watched Nico get injured. The Prudential Center was a place you found comfort in but this time as you sat amongst the crowd all you wanted was him. Nico’s name was proudly stapled on your back as you were in his jersey and a plain black cap as though it was going to be enough to hide your identity. 

And it did until the final intermission just as the boys got back on the ice “she still not talking to you?” Nico had called you earlier that morning but as you were on your flight you had no way of answering it “I just miss her.” Timo couldn’t help but place his hand on the boys shoulder as he felt bad. 

More than half of the team knew that you were here and Timo decided he could no longer leave Nico in his misery “look up there.” Six rows up sat next to Ellen and Jim Hughes, was you. 

Nico felt his jaw drop as he locked eyes with you “hi.” You mouthed like he could even see what you were saying “love you.” Nico did the same thing as you as he placed his hand on his heart as you blew him a kiss. 

That final period everyone swore that there was a rocket under Nico’s ass as he scored two different goals, both of which you knew were dedicated to you as the boy would smirk in your direction. It seemed that both of you were ready to finally see each other but as he got one of the stars of the game it left you waiting with Jack “thank you for getting me here.” You smiled at the boy finally taking your cap off as you realized you weren’t hiding anymore. 

Jack brushed it off as it was more of a favour to the boys than something for you guys “just hope he behaves.” You had mentioned your apprehensions on coming because of how you two fought “have a feeing we both will.” You nodded as you watched Nico’s head stick out from the crowd “schatzi!” He called out acting as the cue that Jack needed to leave “have fun.” The boy patted your shoulder as he walked off to his parents. 

It was only a few seconds until Nico was in front of you “hi.” He smiled noticing how you fidgeted with your rings just like you used to when you guys first started dating “you played well tonight cap.” The nickname had his mind fulling with thoughts, all as inappropriate as the previous.

His hand locked with yours as he clicked his tongue wanting you to stop “I’m sorry I called your team shit.” You were the first to apologize as your voice was soft not wanting his teammates to hear you “let’s go talk in the car.” Nico offered as he slid his arm over your shoulders letting your rest your head against him. 

It had been a while since you were in New Jersey as your summer break was spent in Europe “how did you keep the boys quiet?” Nico asked as he locked his hand with yours over the center console “it was actually their idea.” You smiled revealing what the surprise was “Jack said you missed me.” You teased letting out a giggle as the boys cheeks turn red. 

Nico couldn’t help but nod as he sighed “you and Lando are good friends and I know you love me.” The hockey player had found himself repeating the apology that he tried so many times to send you “I seriously think you’re on a great team.” You hated how badly you spoke about the team when Nico stood by your side through everything “can we agree we were both wrong?” The air finally felt light as the car came to a stop when the light turned red. 

His eyes stared into yours as he swore that there was nowhere that he’d rather be “only if it means that I could kiss you.” Nico mumbled as it made you smile “never need to ask me that.” You shook your head as the boy dropped his head to the side as he let his lips touch yours. 

A fire built up in your belly as his hand grazed your cheek finally stopping as he tugged on your hair “Neek.” You moaned feeling him smirk against your lips “I know baby.” Nico sighed having to pull away as the car behind them hooted as the light went green “so fucking happy to have you back my sweet girl.” He mumbled letting his hand rest on your thigh as he smiled. 

Being captain of an NHL team came with a bunch of privileges. One that Nico never realized that he was meant to appreciate was an expensive apartment with a view that could have been worth a thousand bucks “this will never get old.” You gasped pressing your fingers against the glass as you watched New Jersey continue to move beneath you “feels great getting to watch you in it.” Nico’s breath fanned against your skin as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. 

It was as though your entire body melted as his hands gripped at your hips “even in all of this?” You joked looking down to the fact that you were fully clothed “would prefer if you were just in this.” His fingers tugged at the jersey on your shoulders. 

All of a sudden an idea popped up in your mind “what’s stopping you pretty boy?” Your tongue darted out of your mouth as you turned to face him “you gonna let me?” Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise as he hooked his fingers in the belt hoops of your pants pulling you closer to him “you get whatever you want my little star.” You cooed pushing yourself onto your tippy toes as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders. 

Nico grinned as he swayed your hips against his “fuck I need you schatzi.” His groan was caught as your teeth grazed his lower lip “don’t make me wait.” The fight was now long forgotten as he undid your belt “god you’re soaked.” His eyes blew up at the sight of the wet patch on your panties. 

He helped you out of your pants “do something please.” You begged as his eyes had you feeling like he had you fully undressed “put your hands against the window then for me.” Nico moved your hair to the side of your neck. 

As you listened to his command his pants grew tight around his boner “looking so good tonight in my jersey.” The boy cooed as he turned his attention to the flesh of your ass squeezing your skin between his fingers “just tonight?” You held back a moan as you wiggled your ass in front of him desperate to get a reaction from the boy.

That behavior was cut as he lay a quick slap to your skin that was quickly followed by a soothing motion “you’ve got such a pretty ass.” He mumbled to himself picking up the band of your panties only to let it snap again as it made you jump “I need you Nico.” You begged letting the cool glass hit your forehead “you have me here schatzi.” His hand palmed your ass.

It made you whimper as your jaw went slack “need you to touch me.” Your tone was sultry as your body tensed “you just a cock hungry girl tonight?” The boy was amused as he took the time to unbuckle his belt as you bit your lip in anticipation “asked you a question pretty girl.” His voice pulled you from your focus as you turned your head to face him “want you baby.” Was all he needed to hear as he dropped his suit pants letting them hit the floor.

Nico missed this view as you practically oozed with anticipation “god I’ve missed this cunt” His fingers traced on the lace on your underwear before he hooked his fingers into the waistband leaving you nude from the waist down “you don’t have to wait much longer pretty boy.” You smirked hearing the gasp that left his lips as you knew that he was palming his cock.

The boy dragged its swollen head over your slit spreading his precum over your clit “don’t tease me please.” You begged as your knuckles turned white as your fingers tensed against the window “how do you think they would feel seeing how needy you are for me?” Nico teased as he kissed your neck as he slid his cock into your cunt “so big.” You gasped as the boy gave you a moment to let your walls stretch as his cock throbbed inside you “moove p-please.” You moaned feeling his hands squeeze your hips.

He felt his head drop back as you whimpered “let yourself scream f’me baby.” Nico nipped at your earlobe as it made you squirm “they can’t hear you from up here.” He reminded you of where you both were “you want people to watch you fuck-me!” You yelled the last part as Nico hit your ass once more.

Nico growled from behind you as he had gotten carried away by the fact that that you were still in his jersey “deserve to see who you belong to.” His possessiveness made you clench your cunt around him “you like it when I call you mine huh?” You nodded as you cried out “belong to you cap.” If Nico didn’t have so much planned for you he would have came on the spot but he used everything in his power to not coat the walls of your cunt in that moment.

The sound of skin slapping echoed in your ears as the sight of you in his jersey made his mouth water “hated thinking about those boys so close to you.” He grunted in your ear as his hands trailed up the inside of the jersey “you just look so fucking good in this.” As your hair was pushed to the side it had his name proudly displayed on your back.

You moaned as you nodded “’s all for you neeks.” You no longer seemed to care that you were against the window as your legs began to shake “I’m so close.” You announced as your hand trailed down to your clit as you began to rub at the sensitive nub.

As the boy realized what you were doing he swatted your hand away as he continued the assault on your clit “be a good girl and hold it f’me.” He clicked his tongue as he wanted to push you just a little bit further “i-i can’t.” You swore that tears were filling up your eyes as you whimpered “just a little bit longer.” He practically pleaded wanting to push you as close to the edge as he could.

Sweat made your hair stick to your skin “I need to-” your plead was short lived as he cut you off “let go for me.” Nico mumbled as his cock throbbed your body shook as you came “fuck fuck fuck!” You chanted as you pressed your head against his shoulder as your cunt clenched around him “there it is pretty girl.” Nico cooed as he kissed your temple as his orgasm came shortly after yours.

Nico watched your chest heaved as he slid his cock out of you “you were so good.” You mumbled turning to face him as you smiled “the night doesn’t have to end schatzi.” Nico cupped your cheeks as he pecked your lips “take me to your room cap.” He didn’t need to hear anymore as he threw you over his shoulder making you squeal as he laughed.

The door to his room shut and with that the rest of the events planned for you two weren’t going to be seen by New Jersey. Because as fun as that was, being tangled in the sheets was far more favourable.

[blublublujk]

bound 2 (falling in love)

oneshot

word count: 6.5k

genre: fwb to lovers

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary:

You and Yoongi were okay with being friends with benefits... until you weren't.

warnings: i tried to focus on fluff (did you catch it or did i fail), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (they make love to each other), choking and breath play (hello it's yoongi), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, crying (is it really my ff if there's no crying involved), creampie, very cute aftercare and i think that’s all, this is more sweet than anything lol

a.n: believe it or not this wasn't apart of my drafts i wrote this all one night because i couldn't sleep so thank my insomnia for this, it was about time i write about yoongi :D

also i noticed a lot of you are reading it was destiny and love always wins and i wish you guys wouldn't only because i plan to rewrite some of it and continue them at a further time (chaptered ffs are so hard for me rn since i don't have all the time in the world to dedicate myself to them but i promise to be back with those two series) thank you for everyone who takes time to read what i write it really means so much and your comments have been so motivating. thank you so fucking much for 2k notes on good girl, gone bad i havent seen numbers like that ever im so so grateful, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i'll try to be back one or two more times this month and happy late birthday to me hehe <3

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

It happened again.

Another failed date to add to the sad list of people that simply will never workout for you.

The list was growing longer as months passed. When you started this list, it was barely the start of a very hot summer. Probably the hottest it’s been in years, one can only assume the winter will not be any easier. 

And you were right. Winter was only beginning and it was brutally cold. The streets were moist from the previous night of harsh rainfall. 

What better time to date and settle down than now. When the world gives you rain, settle for the warm arms of a lover.

Unfortunately, you made a grave mistake thinking this would come easy. Ten first dates later and you are still very single and loverless. 

It is not easy to go out during a time like now, suffering at the sight of happy couples and their stupid happy lives. Really, it should disgust you. It used to. The whole concept of devoting your entire life to someone. The need to constantly feel the tender touch of another person. The desire to fall in love and do it all over again, you get it now. At least, you think you do. 

“I don’t think this is gonna work.” The words fall from your mouth in a quiet rush. The man across you sits in silence before he smiles in his loss. 

“Don’t worry, I figured. It seems your mind was elsewhere. I know you don’t want to pursue anything romantically, and that’s fine with me, but is everything okay?” 

Is everything okay? Well currently, yeah you’re okay. As for your heart, it’s heavy and strangely, you feel there’s a hole in your chest and it needs to be filled. That would fix things, you think. You have been single for so long that you forgot what it was like to love and cherish someone. Not that you have ever truly loved or cherished anyone, but you’ve gotten close. If a silly relationship you had in your sophomore year of high school counts. Then yes, you’ve totally been in love. 

“I’m okay. Thanks for asking. I didn’t mean to lead you on, if it ever felt like I did.” The apology seems bitter in your mouth. Another failed fucking attempt. How difficult can dating be? Have you really been this disconnected with the world around you? 

“Don’t stress it! Things happen. I hope you can find what you’re looking for. See you… around?” The man’s understanding response makes you feel worse. Maybe you should consider deleting Tinder and finding love naturally, if that’s still a thing in the contemporary life. 

“Yeah, totally!” And like that you’re off to the next. Giving yourself plenty of time to bathe in your disappointment and miserably cry about your failed attempts at finding what you’ve been missing. Who knew dating could be so difficult?

The walk back home is just as cold as the outcome of today’s date. Your date insisted he could drive you home and if not that then pay for a cab, but you didn’t live too far from the restaurant you both met at. Though he insisted, you figured this walk could refresh you after yet another failure. You were starting to regret it as the cold wind started roughly hitting your skin. Preserving the chilly weather, you genuinely couldn’t wait to get home and wrap yourself in a bundle of warm blankets and comfortable clothes. 

Cold hands struggle to open your door, you blow on them with warm puffs of breaths, soon making your way in and getting comfortable in your humble apartment. 

yoon: you up?

And that, that is what made this harder. The fact that you knew there was someone completely capable of loving and caring for you the way you desired. You have seen it with your own eyes. Every time you ended up in his bed, in his arms, you felt it. Deep down you know something is there and that something beats everything else. Maybe you’re just delusional, but you look for him in everyone else and you hate it. Hate because you will never be anything more than his personal little whore that comes at the sound of his call. 

me: yeah

Normally, you aren’t dry over texts, especially not with him so he’ll see right through you. You’re hoping for once, he can ignore it. 

He won't. 

yoon: you ok?

me: been better

yoon: wanna talk about it?

me: no, i'm ok

yoon: ok, wanna come over? 

Yes, because during a time like this all you want is the comfort and warmth of someone else’s touch and Yoongi has never failed at giving that to you. But he is not yours.

And you are not his. 

me: not feeling well. sorry.

yoon: sick? 

A white lie never hurt anyone. 

me: yeah, throat hurts

yoon: im sorry 

me: it's not your fault maybe another time.

Though you really shouldn’t say that. There should be no next time. That way you don’t suffer any longer and drag him down with you, considering everything you’ve been feeling and dealing with lately. It’s not fair to Yoongi, but especially yourself.

He doesn’t reply anymore and you can’t even hide your disappointment. You aren’t disappointed at him, okay maybe a little bit at him, but mainly yourself and your recently found complicated feelings. 

You and Yoongi started this whole mess a year ago, before you even realized what you truly wanted. It started off with subtle flirting here and there. They say not to mess with coworkers, given that it can complicate things at work and one should never play with their main source of income, but you did it anyway. You are still young and he only made you feel younger, like a teenage girl crushing over her forbidden crush at church. It was silly, but Yoongi made it easy. 

The flirting turned to one thing, then another. 

“We shouldn’t, not here.” Yoongi had you pinned outside the club you both worked at, leaving trails of wet kisses down your throat.

“Five more minutes.” His words were muffled into your skin as his hands explored your body. Yoongi’s touch was always way too soft for his own good and you fell victim to his deadly warmth. 

“If Mr. Kim finds out, he’ll kill us and fire us both.” That was a bit dramatic on your part and you swore you felt the taller smiling against your neck.

Yoongi drops one last kiss on your cheek as his hot breath hits your ear. “Not if I kill him first.”

You gasped, pushing him off you with a quick smack to his chest. “D-Don’t even joke like that.” 

Yoongi just laughed. 

“Okay, okay baby.” The term of endearment fell from his lips too easily and you melted into the dark night. “See you after work?” 

You only nodded, not being able to deny his temporary warmth and sweet presence. Then he dropped a kiss on your lips, leaving you just as quick as when he first found you. You were fucked.

From there, it only got worse for your sake. Your heart could only take so much. 

Really, you should blame things on him. It was his fault you fell in love with him and his stupidly soft hands. It was all his fault! He left you no choice but to love the feel of his lips against your skin, to easily melt under his soft gaze, and find comfort in his unnecessarily warm bed. Yoongi was perfect. Everything you could ever want. 

That’s why it was so fucking hard. Dating was hard enough, but after feeling Yoongi’s intimate touch, you were a complete goner. Though he was far from it, Yoongi touched you like you were his and he would fuck you like a lover would. Kissing and making love to you as if you were the most beautiful woman on Earth. It was all too much. 

Fuck, you really needed to get a grip.

The knock on your door makes you jump from your couch. 

Ten minutes longer and you would have fallen asleep exactly where you were lying. In outside clothes and all. You didn’t even bother taking off the outfit you had carefully planned thinking that this lucky outfit would have finally taken you somewhere. It didn’t. 

“Coming!” There’s not a single person that should be outside your door, especially at this hour. Your feet make their way to the door regardless and the blood from your face drains when you see the person standing behind the door. 

Quickly, you unlock your front door, rushing the taller inside. “Hurry! It’s freezing! What are you doing out here?” 

Yoongi’s cheeks are surely frozen, a pink dust decorates his cheeks and the tip of his nose. It almost makes him look cute. You were far more gone than you imagined. 

He hustles inside, carrying a fairly large brown bag with him. He brought… groceries? 

“Took you long enough.” The taller one makes himself at home, laying his bag on your coffee table. 

“What are you even doing here?” You ask again. 

He ignores you. “Thought you said you were sick. You don’t look very sick?” 

Yoongi looks at you with a questioning look, his eyes wander your outfit and guilt starts eating your insides. 

You cross your arms, an attempt to hide yourself in shame, but what’s done is done. “I- I had plans.” 

“Yeah, I see that.” He simply says, standing awkwardly in your living area. 

If this doesn’t convince you to delete that forsaken app for the sake of your dignity and shameful behavior, you don’t know what will.

“Anyways, w-what brings you here?” 

“Brought you some stuff.” His hand waves over to the bag he carried inside. 

“Stuff?” You question, a bit dumbfounded, planted still in your place.

“Tea, cough drops, some soup I made earlier this week. Oh and flowers.” Yoongi doesn’t seem at all embarrassed or fazed about the situation. Not that he should be, but he speaks with a puff to his chest, as if he wanted to ensure you understood his every word and action. Like any concerned lover would be. As if he was yours and you were his.

Oh.

This was so so bad. For you and your weak heart. Fuck.

“I-“ 

He cuts you off before you even get to speak. “I don’t know if you’ll like it. It’s just some plain seaweed soup. Usually helps me when I’m sick. I’m not sure what flowers you like, or if you even like flowers. Do you? Their tulips. I did a bit of research before. My mom likes tulips. I figured you might like them too.” 

He did research? Double fuck! 

Yoongi was nervously rambling, now he was slightly embarrassed. Pink flushes his cheeks and it wasn’t the weather’s doing this time. 

“Yoongi…” You start breathlessly and in disbelief. 

“What?” He nearly stutters, his hand is shaking. He’s nervous. Who would have thought? 

“Why.” Is all you manage to ask. 

“You were sick.” Is all he replies. As if things were really that simple. What next? Would he come rushing to the hospital if you suddenly fell ill? God forbid, but it was a valid question. 

What was going on? For a second, you entertain the idea. Maybe he fell in love between the blurry lines of this complicated relationship. Were the shared intimate memories too special for him to forget too? You weren’t sure anymore, but what did this all mean? Maybe he loves you, as much as you love him.

Thoughts keep spinning and you wish there was an easier way to turn off your brain. Not now.

“I know, but why? Why all this? Why for me?” Your vulnerability is showing and it makes you feel weak. Maybe your hands are shaking too. 

“I don't understand?” Yoongi searches for the answer in your glossy eyes, he’s tempted to reach out and comfort you. Have you in his hands, but he’s too coward. He doesn’t want you to feel the shiver of his touch right now. His vulnerability peaks through as well. 

Why not you? It’s always going to be you. 

“I-I’m nothing to you.” There’s a shiver again and then you break. 

Yoongi doesn’t care anymore. He’ll consider the consequences later. Right now, none of it matters.

His hands hold your face, ready to wipe the tears that threaten to leak from your precious eyes. He hopes his hands aren't cold anymore from standing outside for so damn long, but he couldn’t stop himself, in his selfishness and all.

His hands shake slightly, trying to stay strong as he lays it all on the table. “Y/N, you’re everything to me.” He whispers, eyes never leaving yours.

You lay your own hands on his, you feel so delicate around him when you wrap warm hands around his cold wrists.

“I-I am?” You ask between sniffles. His hands are still pretty cold, but they’ll soon warm up against your soft skin. Nobody knows how desperately you need to be touched until you are and then it’s like little fireworks spark inside your body. It consumes you in the best way possible.

“Of course. I thought I made that obvious.” His eyes are soft, different to how he typically looks at you, but you’ve seen these same eyes before. They are no stranger. It’s similar to the look he gives you when you catch him staring at you while you are deep in work. He pretends to look away as if he wasn’t admiring you from afar and you pretend that you don’t notice his curious eyes. It’s the same look he has after you both end up in heated makeout sessions, behind the rusty club you both work at. And it’s definitely the same look he has while he settles on top of you, whispering sweet words of praise and promise.

Nothing should feel different but it just does, there’s something in the way he looks down at you that lets you know that everything you’ve been searching for has always been right here. Right where you’ve been all along.

The taller leans in and you freeze struggling to keep your eyes on his. Yoongi’s thumb brushes against your cheek with a soft touch. You were fragile between his hands and he’s willing to do anything to keep his precious flower safe. “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes. Please.” You whisper back in a hurry, scared that this would be nothing but a dream. It wasn’t time for you to wake up yet.

His eyes zero-in on your lips and then he’s kissing you. It’s not much different from other times. After all, you guys have shared plenty of kisses, probably more than you should have considering you guys were friends with benefits, at most. But this time, the kiss isn’t just a careless lust-filled doing, no this time the kiss is a promise. The promise to never again allow you to question his feelings and intentions towards you. 

If Yoongi has to spend his whole life making this up to you, he simply would because that’s how much you meant to him. He can’t believe he even let this go on for this long. He should have been more clear and careful, but he doesn’t regret a damn thing. Not when he has all the time in the world to repair the time lost. And especially not when his reckless actions led him to this. To you.

Yoongi’s lips are soft and bend with yours with ease. He takes his time, never in a rush. Especially not when he has you in-hand. 

The taller doesn’t escalate the kiss. He keeps it sweet and gentle, like he always has been. “I’m so sorry baby.” 

Kiss.

“For?” 

Kiss.

Yoongi has the whole world in his hands right now as he looks down into the sparkles in your eyes and he’s never been so sure about anything in his life. “For being a fucking idiot.”

Kiss. 

“It’s okay.” A kiss is shared again. “I was an idiot too. I was just scared that you wouldn’t want that with me.” 

“Want what?” The taller questions, fingers trailing your face, admiring the imperfections and all. 

“A relationship, I mean. You seemed content with how our relationship already was. I was afraid of losing that. Of losing you.” You admit, eyes fluttering at his touch. 

“Of course, I want that. I want that and more. I-I’m not the best with relationships. I’m only saying this because I want to be open and honest with you. There’s not a second you aren’t on my mind. While at work, you are all I can see. In a crowd of a hundred, my eyes always find yours. I don’t know how to explain what you do to me. But I don’t mind. I think if I ever lost that, I would lose my mind. So I’m sorry if I ever made you feel the opposite. There’s so much more I want to say, but I just don’t know how. I want that. I want that so bad. A relationship and whatever more you give me. I might not be the best boyfriend but I’ll do whatever it takes. I- I love you.” Yoongi’s words are heartfelt and he’s so relieved. One because he’s been keeping this in for so long, any longer and he would have exploded, but second because he’s been dying to say those three words. He really does love you and Yoongi doesn’t love many people in life, but if he had to choose, it’s always gonna be you. 

The tears that were creeping on your eye-lids fall prettily down your face, but Yoongi comes to your rescue. He’s quick to wipe them off your pretty face, tempted to kiss them away, but he keeps that in for now. “Y-Yoongi… I love you too. So much. I think I always have. You are so easy to love. The way you look at me, care for me, and always show up for me. That says more about you than anything else. I tried dating to get over what I felt for you, as you can probably tell, but nothing worked. It was so easy, Yoongi. So easy to fall in love with you. You’re perfect and I don’t doubt that you’ll be the best even after all this. I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you. Fuck, I love you.” Yoongi kisses you again and this time he isn’t as gentle. His lips are still soft as ever as they curl around yours. His tongue comes out and you immediately allow access, letting him explore your mouth. The taste is much better now that there isn’t anything you both are holding back. Everything down on the line and you couldn’t be happier. The hole in your heart was never empty, it was just waiting for this exact moment to remind you that you’ve always had it all. 

“Yoongi.” In between breaths you call his name and Yoongi feels his knees lock. “Take me to bed.” 

Yoongi just nods in a trance with the way your tone drips of arousal. A long strand of hair falls on his face when he picks you up with ease off your feet. He takes you to the place he’s had the honor to visit a hundred times before, but it’s different this time, much different. 

In the process of it all, something falls and it causes you both to laugh until you run out of breath. 

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You laugh into his ear. “You owe me a new lamp. My mother bought me that, you know. House-warming gift.”

“Fuck, sorry.” Yoongi mumbles near a whisper as he grips you harder like he’s afraid he might drop you next and the idea makes you giggle because you know he would never purposely hurt you. “I’ll apologize to your mother directly. Buy you and her a new lamp, whatever it takes.”

“What makes you think you are meeting my mother?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the blush rise on his cheeks. 

“Well, I figured we could, you know, if you would like–” Yoongi doesn’t often get shy about many things but he can’t keep calm around you and that kills him softly.

“I’m just teasing you.” You say and he bites his lip. “Of course you’ll meet my mother and my father and my nosy ass family. I hope you like annoying, persistent grandma’s that stuff you full. My grandma’s the worst of her kind, but she’ll love you.”

“I would love to.” Yoongi simply replies, still whispering as if you guys had to keep quiet or else you’d be in deep trouble. 

“Why are we still whispering?” You whisper back, roaming fingers through his long, gorgeous hair. He needs to remind you to thank his mother personally for insisting he keep his hair long because it made him look pretty and you could never disagree. Yoongi’s so pretty. 

“I-I don’t know.” 

You both smile at each other before sharing another kiss. It’s so sweet and if you weren’t already off your feet, you would be floating by now. He’s gentle when letting you drop into the sheets below, he finds space between your legs and you wrap them around his hips. Lips still in contact, never losing the plushy feel. 

Everything starts to feel hot. Your hips start to slowly grind against his begging for any sort of friction. But the kissing doesn’t stop. 

Not when you start whining against his lips. 

Not even when Yoongi starts trailing his fingers down your waist and around your curves. He teases his fingertips against your waistline, soft to the touch. 

It’s not until you mewl loudly into his mouth, skillful tongue playing with yours, as you feel him start unbuckling your pants, button-by-button. 

Yoongi’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his gaze burning fire. “Gonna take care of you now, is that okay?” 

You furiously nod, coming up to kiss him once more, both your lips are raw and sensitive, but it gives you more of a reason to fix it with even more kisses. 

He drops one quick kiss onto your mouth before he trails down your jaw. Yoongi breathes in the sweet scent on your skin, wishing he could feel you even closer. “Smell so damn good.”

His voice is raspy against your ear and it makes you blush, while you feel his hand finally touch you where you had been aching with need. “Wanna hear you.”

Breathing lightly, you whisper. “Make me.” 

And of course, Yoongi makes you regret how fast you said the words because he delves his fingers forward with little resistance. Two fingers stretch you at the same time, gasping at the sudden sensation. 

By now, you were molded to fit Yoongi’s fingers. On days where you were really in need, you would take four, all at once. Yoongi was best at reading every expression, every crease and scrunch to your face, especially emotions. He knew exactly how to curve his fingers, the way to build you up, and bring you back down. Yoongi knew it all and he was so lucky too. 

He never anticipated it would have gone this far. It was just sex to begin with. But who were you both kidding, it was always much, much more. 

Yoongi curves his fingers in the way he’s used to and watches your mouth drop, sweet noises soon leaving your lips. “Feels good?” 

There’s no need to ask because he can tell. Your expression tells him everything he needs to know. That and the fact that you are dripping around his fingers but it’s sexier hearing it from you. 

“Yeah… f-feels so good.” With his other hand he tugs your clothes off, leaving you bare on the bottom. Remembering the first few times is a bit embarrassing, but Yoongi always made sure to take his time and make you feel comfortable. It was special and memorable in its own way, and Yoongi felt it too. 

This is unlike any first time, but it was technically the first time you could officially make love to each other until you fall lovesick and that had to be impossible around someone like Yoongi. 

“Hold your legs open for me, flower.” You try to ignore the warm feeling that buzzes in your chest, but you are sure your face says it all. Without another word, you spread your legs open, tucking both hands behind your thighs.

“Flower?” You breathe out with a bit of a struggle as his two fingers continue to pump deep inside you, brushing repeatedly against your g-spot. 

“Do you not like it?” Yoongi smiles slightly, biting his bottom lip while he watches you start to tremble, making the prettiest sounds. 

“I do. Why the new name?” Voice a bit unsteady but it does the job. Yoongi thinks of all the times he thought you were as pretty as a flower, which really was all the time. Especially, in the way he has you right now. Pretty, pretty as a flower. 

“I’ve always wanted to call you that. You’re pretty, sweet, delicate. Just like a flower.” He justifies his reasoning and you melt into puddles. 

“Yoongi.” Voice sweet as honey. 

“Yes baby.” He replies with ease.

“Make love to me, Yoongi.” 

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love. How foolish of him to think so. When he met you, it was a complete three-sixty. Suddenly, Yoongi started to look forward to his shit job. He looked forward to that time between breaks where he could admire you from the back like a pinning loser. Yoongi even started to like the walks he had to take to get to work because he knew that the path would eventually lead to you. He started looking forward to tomorrow's and to the bright future that led ahead. His mom would often complain that he was wasting his life away waiting for it to start, but Yoongi thinks life truly started the day he met you. 

It was a bit awkward because you couldn’t even look him in the eyes, intimated by the staff and new environment. You had previously worked in different bars so you assumed it would be no different and it wasn’t, but the intimidation of a new job was there nonetheless. Yoongi was there every step of the way. He had a crush on the new employee and you needed help on fitting in. Either way, your friendship was very platonic until it wasn’t. 

Yoongi knows he should have said something along the lines “hey, maybe we shouldn't be doing this anymore. I’m in love with you and I have been since you started working here” but the stupid words never made it out. He felt it would be too much to hear and it would only make him look like a complete loser. 

And you felt the same. It was silly really, because everyone around you knew it and there was no reason to fear someone as easy going and non-judgemental as Yoongi, nonetheless it brought you both here. After many failed dating attempts, you were finally happy and in the arms of someone who you truly love and want to be loved by. 

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love, now Yoongi believes your precious, sweet love brought him back to life and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

Clothes now discarded on the floor, heavy breathing filling the room, and Yoongi could get wasted on the smell of your intoxicating perfume. “Breathe flower.”

Yoongi felt you shiver at the sound of his words, throwing your head back as he thrusts you full of cock. He pushes inside you with gentle movements, struggling to keep himself up while feeling the tug of your warm velvet-like walls. 

You gasp feeling him hit your cervix in a calm, slow pace. It was breathtaking regardless of the gentle rhythm. “You’re so deep...”

“I know flower, breathe baby, breathe.” He is struggling to keep from coming inside you, overwhelmed by his own emotions as your eyes roll back, feeling the pressure rise in your belly. Without a condom, everything feels so different from other times, feeling every ridge and crease fold inside your drenching heat. You take him so nicely, like you always have. Like you’ve always belonged to him. 

You don’t even notice you stopped breathing until you start feeling lightheaded and desperate for fresh air. Breathing just as much as necessary so you don’t faint, you shake your head against his hold, his eyes watch yours, observing with curiosity. 

“No?”

“Mm, n-no.” You shake your head again, whimpering when you feel him kiss your cervix with his swollen tip, over and over and over. “Can– can you…”

“Can I what, pretty flower?” Yoongi rolls his hips a bit faster, feeling his orgasm build too quickly. He wishes he could have days with you like this always. Days to love and worship you from head to toe.

“Choke me.” You manage to say. “Don— don’t wanna breathe.” 

Yoongi growls deep, increasing his speed even more, desperate to fill the deepest part of your glistening folds. He feels you tense underneath, the sounds coming from your mouth are loud enough for your neighbors to hear, but Yoongi stopped giving a fuck about everything around him. 

He places a hand on your throat and squeezes gently, not blocking off your airways completely, but leaving you just enough air to work with. It drives you insane. The more you breathe, his rough thrusts take the air out from your lungs and the process repeats. It feels so good.  

“M-more. Harder.” You barely hear your own words, but Yoongi seems to understand because his dick is moving rapidly inside you, nearly splitting you in two. You wrap both hands around his wrist, loving the heavy weight against your chest. It’ll end too soon and it disappoints you in a way, but you have all the time in the world to make this up. “G-Gonna come.” 

Yoongi nods, concentrating on the way your face scrunches with pleasure. With love. The way your eyes tell him a story. God, Yoongi’s madly in love. “Come, my precious flower.” 

With those final words, you come on his bare slick cock, blossoming in the blissful afterglow. Yoongi doesn’t stop thrusting inside you, but he takes his hand off your throat, kissing your face gently when he sees tears start leaking down your cheeks. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay baby. Breathe for me. Slowly.” Yoongi’s words bring you back down and you throw your arms around him, crying against his shoulder. You don’t even know what invoked this strong emotion to sob your eyes out, but Yoongi allows it, caressing the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t judge, he only holds you until you settle down. “It’s okay baby, let it out. Breathe, pretty flower.” 

“C-Come inside muh-me, please.” Even after all that, you still beg for him and Yoongi wants to laugh but for your sake and the fact that it’s endearing to him, he delivers accordingly without further questions. 

Right as he’s going to paint your walls white, he pushes himself up with one hand, still holding you with the other. “You sure?”

You’re confused about the sudden question, the tears still decorate your face but then you understand. “Birth control. Just come in me Yoongi, fuck me, fu-fuck.”

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to regain his brutal pace, fucking you with purpose. Not that he doesn’t want kids in the near future, but he sure as hell doesn’t want any right now. He’s glad you are on the same page but maybe one day the conversation would spark and he wouldn’t want the mother of his kids to be anyone else but you. You were perfect for him. 

“Gonna come.” That’s the only warning you get, then he’s emptying himself inside your tight walls. He doesn’t stop rolling his hips, his slit leaking puddles, until he’s pumped himself dry. With one last thrust, he groans and carefully pulls out. 

He brings you with him, head falling against his chest as he continues to play with your hair, leaving kisses into your bare shoulders. “You okay baby?”

“Perfect. Feel so good.” You mumble into his skin, feeling around his waist. “I’m leaking your come into the sheets though.”

“I’ll take care of it, pretty flower.” You nod sleepily into his chest with a quiet ‘thank you’, feeling completely sated and satisfied, aching with exhaustion. “Sleep baby, I got you.”

With that, you fall deep into the shackles of sleep. Yoongi rubs your back until you completely fall asleep in his arms. He struggles to unwrap himself from your hold, but when he finally succeeds, he tucks you in and kisses your cheek a few times before getting up to clean up after the mess you both created. 

He’s light on his feet, bringing a warm towel to your slick folds and wipes as best he can, being gentle so you could continue to enjoy your sleep. Even like this, you look so beautiful and Yoongi is an extremely lucky man. 

Yoongi makes sure to also pick up the lamp he dropped from earlier as well. He blows out a breath of relief when he notices that the damage is nothing big and nothing that can’t be fixed. He’ll make sure to fix that as soon as he can. 

While he’s out there, Yoongi places the tulips into a vase and fills it with water, placing it near a window where it could grow and blossom beautifully near the sunlight. He even cuts the tips into slants because he had heard somewhere online they last longer that way, making sure to get rid of any dead leaves and petals. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.

After he’s done with the light cleaning, he washes his hands and feels the exhaustion hit him tenfold. He’s careful when placing himself back in bed, lifting your arm and placing himself underneath you. The man smiles when he feels you curl yourself around him, sleeping soundlessly. 

“I love you.” He whispers and even though you don’t say it back Yoongi feels it with the way you melt into his arms. Yoongi falls asleep easily that night. 

…

“Baby.” Yoongi hears someone call him and he ignores it. Sleep calls his name louder and he doesn’t feel like waking up right now so he groans and cuddles deeper into the bedsheets below him, unaware of the life around him. 

“Baby wake up.” You keep calling sweetly and it’s tempting but he persists.

“No. Don’t wanna.” Yoongi grumbles like an old man and you can’t help but to laugh. “Just ten more minutes.”

When you woke up the next morning, you were so thankful Yoongi had kept his promise. Your apartment was flawless and you were as clean as you could be. The tulips looked prettier today as the sun shined on the delicate petals. You even had time to warm the seaweed soup he brought from home and you couldn’t wait to get a taste. The smell alone is delicious and it warmed your home up nicely, you truly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this was no longer a dream but your reality. You could definitely get used to this. 

You drop kisses onto his warm cheeks until his eyes flutter open, almost similar to a cat. “There you are.”

Yoongi pulls you into his arms again with quiet noncoherent grumbles and closes his eyes once more. “Give me ten minutes.”

“It’s already been ten.” You whisper lightly laughing. 

“Oh. Ten more then.” You get comfortable on his chest and cuddle for a bit longer because you can’t say no to his cute sleepy self. 

Yoongi starts to sniff the air with curiosity. “Is that the seaweed soup I brought you?” 

“Mhm.” You hum. “Better get up soon before it burns.” 

That manages to be convincing enough and Yoongi forces himself up, with you in his embrace. 

“Wanna wake up like that forever.” He says, voice filled with sleep. 

“You can.” 

Yoongi snaps his heavy eyes towards you. “Are you–”

“Move in with me, Yoongi.” Yes, you skipped every step to this, but nothing was ever to code between you and Yoongi. One thing you were so sure of and that was spending the rest of your life with him. “Please.”

“I- yes, of course.” Yoongi wraps his arms around you for a tight hug, kissing your temple. “I love you. I love you and I’ll prove it to you every single day.” 

“I know, I love you too. I love you.” Those three words come out from your mouths so easily and it’s nice that you no longer have to ever hold back. The man of your dreams is in the palms of your humble home and he’s in love with you. This was better than any dream. 

“Let’s eat?” He says after some time of hugging and kisses being interchanged. 

You nod, letting him take you there. Your kitchen is filled with the cruel aroma of food and your tummy rumbles as you sit comfortably while you wait for him to serve you a bowl of the warm tasty soup. 

“I should be doing that. I’m a terrible host.” Yoongi shakes his head while smiling, the fluff of hair moving with him, then your phone dings. “Hold on, give me a second.” 

Your heart drops when you see it is a Tinder notification from a man you promised to get back to. You look over to find Yoongi serving your bowl, making his way to the table. He leans in puckering slightly and you immediately lean into the sweet sudden kiss while he places your meal in front of you. This Yoongi is new because it wasn’t often you could act domestically towards one another, however this was perfect and just what you needed. 

“Everything okay baby?” Yoongi asks while caressing your soft cheek and you immediately nod in his palm. 

“Yes, everything’s perfect.” You reply in awe. “Thank you Yoongi, for everything.”

For letting me love you and for loving me back. 

The older man just smiles and joins you for the meal. 

It turns out you didn’t need Tinder after all. 

You quickly delete the app off your phone and start to eat with the love of your life, conversation flows while you enjoy each other’s presence and fall deeper in love. 

Alike Yoongi, you couldn’t imagine it happening any other way. You were bound to fall in love, one way or another, but that man was meant to be yours as you were meant to be his.

[heyclickadee]

So, here’s the thing. The finale is weird. Yes, I’m hurt by the fact that Tech didn’t come back and that a character that’s very near and dear to my heart was badly handled, and that will never sit right with me. But even apart from that, the finale fundamentally does not function as a piece of storytelling or as the end to this story. I’m glad that people are enjoying it, and I will never tell anyone not to. But I don’t think it works. (I get very negative about the TBB finale under the cut.)

It’s not just the Tech stuff or the CX-2 stuff (which may very well have been the same stuff) that got dropped. It’s *everything*. Every theme, Every narrative thread besides retrieving Omega, every character arc except marginally Omega’s, Echo’s (also marginal), and Emerie’s, which was the shortest and gets wrapped up by her deciding to help Echo rescue the kids. It all stops. It makes everything that came before seem cheap and pointless if you take it into account. And this is so, so frustrating for me, because the entire show was driving towards this incredibly rich payoff, it could have been immaculate, and then it whiffed the ball so bad in the last episode that it didn’t just miss, it managed to knock over the bleachers and set the entire court on fire.

Some examples:

1. This season had a really interesting exploration of Crosshair’s PTSD via his hand tremor and how it was something he can learn to manage, but not something that would ever fully go away. Aaaaand then his hand gets chopped off. One, that was stupid. I’ve seen some excellent posts (here’s one by @the-bi-space-ace) detailing why that was a terrible way to handle Crosshair’s lingering trauma, and others talking about how the idea there was that Crosshair needed to move on and it was severing his last ties with the empire. The former, I agree with; the latter, I don’t, because not only—not only!—does this episode stop dealing with Crosshair’s trauma, it doesn’t even deal with having cut off his hand! It just sort of occurs. No one reacts to it, no one says anything about it, there’s no follow up or commentary, nothing happens as a result—it’s an event which occurs with no results coming after it. It may as well be an animation error. You can say it was about Crosshair needing to let go and move on, but that’s something you have to project on to the text, not something that’s actually offered by it. It’s empty.

2. Crosshair again: We also have the lingering issue of Crosshair’s guilt and the fact that he never seems to get to a point where it’s resolved. There’s set up for a resolution. We have that, “Sure you have,” like about Crosshair from Rampart. We also have Crosshair saying he deserves whatever happens to him in Tantiss. And then…no pushback. No resolution. No moment of Crosshair realizing that he doesn’t need to carry that burden. Nothing that says he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He had all this character development this season, but he needed - last little push to forgive himself—and we never get any indication that he does. It, like his trauma, gets dropped like a rock.

3. Hey! More Crosshair! A good chunk of Crosshair’s arc this season was about learning that anyone can change, first, and that no one is beyond saving. Eeexcept that goes no where.

4. Which brings me to my next point: There is set up for the CXs to be saved. Even if we’re laboring under the conclusion that CX-2 was never intended to be Tech at any point in the writing process (I have. Doubts. Yes, I’m calling the creative team liars, here, but with the understanding that they have contracts that may require them to lie), we do have the set up where we learn the electrocyanide zappers can be removed, and with Rex offering forgiveness to CX-1. “Whatever they did to you, whatever you’ve done, you’re still one of us.” CX-Tech or no, Crosshair’s arc was tied up with the CX plot, and because he’s the one the CXs tend to react to—or, at least, understands what was done to them—the set up was there for him to help save and maybe rehab the CXs. At the least, there was an indication that they could be saved. Eeexcept nope! That gets dropped like a rock, too, and they’re not going to deal with it. Time for maximum carnage.

5. Hunter’s arc actually takes a step backwards. Sure, he gets a technically happy ending, but because the squad is basically in the same place they were in “Pabu” back in season two (down a member but successfully hiding from the Empire in a safe place), it negates Hunter’s development towards actually taking action—and actually hurts Echo’s arc, too.

There’s been this tension all through the show between just sitting things out on the one hand (Hunter’s way) and taking direct action despite the futility on the other (Echo’s way), but instead of finding some kind of middle ground or third road, it sort of comes back around to saying that, actually, Hunter was right, they should have just gone to Idaflor back in episode three and never left even though the Pabu invasion said that no, you can’t just hide, and even Hunter’s development was moving in the opposite direction. And this also means that Echo never reaches a point where he feels like he can walk away and that he doesn’t have to get himself killed doing this. Despite development otherwise they both end up back at that conversation in “Tipping Point” without any move in either direction or resolution of that tension.

6. Omega. Okay, Omega probably comes out the best after the finale, and, conceptually, I actually love the idea of Omega becoming a pilot even if the epilogue falls a little flat for me. But stuff with Omega still got dropped, including:

- The force stuff. We have two episodes dealing with m-count (after learning in episode three what Omega was created to do). We also have Ventress telling Omega that she doesn’t have a high m-count as far as she can see, Crosshair immediately calling Ventress out for lying, and then Ventress basically saying, “Yeah, no shit, but if she has force potential she’d have to leave you behind, and it doesn’t matter what your opinion on that is, so I’m not dealing with that.” Aaaand then,m. That. Goes nowhere. Despite a bit of set up for Omega connecting to the force as early as episode one, and some more set up in Tribe, and that whole subplot of her learning how to meditate, and so on.

Now, I don’t think that it was ever going to turn out that Omega did actually have a high m-count or that she had a particularly powerful natural connection to the force. I think she’s probably got a low or baseline m-count. What I do think, however, is that we were going to see Omega connect anyway as a refutation of Palpatine’s and Hemlock’s entire scheme. Their goal (based off of the ST) was to create extremely force sensitive clones as a way for Palpatine to jump bodies without having to waste time re-learning how to connect to the force. You know—dark side, quick and easy path, focus on eugenics and raw power, etc. Had Omega connected anyway because of her big heart and desire to protect, it would have not only paid off that set up, it would have also refuted Palpatine’s and Hemlock’s entire goal. It would have worked so well thematically and the set up was THERE.

- branching off of that, I think the Omega force stuff was probably tied to the Zillo beast. We also had a through-line of Omega being good with animals and taking the time to calm them instead of responding with violence. The first time we see this is in “Replacements,” where she realizes that the ordo moon dragon (also an electrophage—I don’t know what to call these things—like the zillo beast) is just scared and hungry. This is all conjectural, but it still fits with what was set up.

- Moving on from the force stuff, we also had a through-line that started way back in episode two of the series, but which was really emphasized this season, about Omega feeling like she’s the cause of the bad things that happen to the people she loves. This is why she gives herself up during the Pabu invasion in the first place. This is never resolved! We get Omega’s confidence boost when she realizes she has the force kids to take care of, but we never get a moment where Omega realizes that she has no reason to feel guilty. She’s the glue that holds the family together! But nope! Also dropped!

- But wait! There’s more! The first two season finales have Omega watching someone she loves fall away while she’s helpless to do anything to save them. That’s perfect set up to put Omega in the same situation, but be able to save them, because she’s finally come into her own. Instead we just end up with her needing to be rescued again.

- Omega has this big speech in Shadows of Tantiss about spending her life stuck in one place or another against her will, and how she refuses to be confined like that. I don’t think Omega would have been happy just staying on Pabu for the entire rest of her childhood and young adult life, even if I think she’d want to use it on a home base. But! Dropped!

7. I still can’t get over the fact that the zillo beast is on screen for about two minutes and then just. Walks away. It’s a large beastie that’s been locked in confinement for a while and is probably hungry. And somehow it didn’t go straight to the reactors for some delicious energy smoothies. Like. It. Did. The. Last. Time. Someone. Let. It. Out. But no, that would have required it sticking around for something that was probably dropped sooooo ZILLO BEAST EXIT STAGE RIGHT I GUESS. (Edit: I have been reminded that Hemlock does say to turn off the generators once the zillo beast is out, so that at least makes sense. I still think the zillo beast should have stuck around to do something.)

8. You notice how there are a ton of commandos around Tantiss, even up through “Flash Strike?” And how they kind of largely cease to exist? And how Echo says that there are far more clones imprisoned in Tantiss than anyone thought? And then how they rescue, like, a dozen guys? Because we never find our way back to those cells Crosshair was held in during season two? And how Tarkin does mention not wanting to allow clone dissidence to turn into an uprising back in “The Summit?” Because I did. This show was never going to be about a clone rebellion, that wasn’t the point, buuut I do think the set up was there for an uprising at Tantiss itself. Begin the series with clones losing their agency en masse, end the series with some of the most subdued clones taking it back. Except nope, dropped, soooo we gotta pretend the commandos don’t exist and murder the hell out of poor Scorch.

9. SPEAKING OF. The batch does kill clones sometimes, that does happen, but they do at least usually make some kind of effort to be non-lethal even when they’re not using stun, and times when they do resort to lethal tactics are usually born out of extreme circumstances. Not here, though!! NO HESITATION MAXIMUM CARNAGE. For. Reasons I guess.

10. There’s one point IN THE FINALE where Echo mentions signaling for Rex. This never comes up again. Rex does not show up. In fact, despite being called, “The Cavalry Has Arrived,” the cavalry does not in fact arrive. There is no cavalry. Yes, I know it’s a reference to Wrecker’s first line. But I’m sorry if you call an episode that YOU HAD BETTER HAVE A CAVALRY SHOW UP. Especially when you have a one about calling them in! But that also!! Got dropped like a rock!!

11. One positive: the moment Crosshair and Hunter leaning on each other to make that shot was nice.

12. Sorry, but Hemlock’s death was deeply unsatisfying. Let’s do something more than just shoot him multiple times, okay?

13. Rampart’s death, on the other hand, was incredibly satisfying. That said, the conversation about project necromancer? I’m dying. It’s actually hilarious, because it basically goes like:

“Tell me about project necromancer.”

“Wow! How interesting!”

I’m.

Are you serious?

I’m going to become the Joker.

Yes, I know we know what project necromancer is because of a different show. That’s not the point, the POINT. Is that any pay off for project necromancer in this show got dropped. And that’s deeply frustrating from a narrative perspective.

14. Speaking of, we never find out anything more regarding that partially successful m-count transfer from episode three.

15. We also never do anything with those medical records!

16. And Omega has a whole crossbow she never actually shoots despite the fact that her role on the team was as a sharpshooter after Crosshair left, and despite her getting advice from Crosshair on how to be a sniper. The literal chekov’s gun never goes off. I’m going to go eat gravel.

17. AZI, likewise, got toted around for three seasons for no reason. Probably could have helped with the medical records. Given that he was a Kaminoan medical droid. Oh, and that Omega was Nala Se’s medical assistant. So. Hmm.

18. You can cut everything in the season past episode five and skip straight to the epilogue and end up in the same place. This is not because the other episodes are filler. Far from it! The other episodes are great and deliver some amazing set up. But, because the finale does nothing with that set up, it doesn’t go anywhere.

19. And you know what else? From a narrative perspective, there’s no reason for Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair to be in these episodes at all. They don’t accomplish anything and make everyone else’s job harder. Omega was doing fine, she would have gotten out with the kids with just Echo and Emerie, and Tarkin was coming to cut off Hemlock’s funding and shut everything down once Hemlock lost control of the facility anyway. I can only suppose that the whole reason they were in this episode ended up getting dropped, too.

20. CX-2. Listen, the answer we get about CX-2 isn’t that he’s not Tech. It’s, “Maybe, maybe not—you don’t get to know.” Because. He’s the only CX whose mask never comes off. After a season and a half worth of buildup of unmasking CXs and people pressing them to learn their names. It’s not a no, it’s a non-answer, which is far less satisfying.

And finally:

21: CX-Tech. I’ve seen some people speculating that there was a planned CX-Tech reveal that got scrapped at the last minute—dropped, along with the other points I’ve already laid out. And, honestly? I have to agree. Despite what the creative team says, because even their denials kind of come out weird (like the Kiners saying that the large brass chord in “Battle of the Snipers” was just a nice sounding brass chord and not a reference to “Plan 99.” They also basically say that the sacrifice theme from “Plan 99” is Tech’s leitmotif. Which. Is all over “Battle of the Snipers.” That theme. Not Crosshair’s. In a scene. Where he’s supposed to be fighting a shadow of himself who Totally Isn’t Tech but we put Tech’s leitmotif here and layered it in Techno music but nooo that was never supposed to be him. Nope. I mean, come on. I’m not stupid).This post is already long enough, so here are some posts by @apocalyp-tech-a pointing out the reasons why I think this was the case, and one by @eriexplosion pointing out why CX-2 as Crosshair’s shadow and only that doesn’t quite work. I don’t need to go over the trail that was laid out again. Up to the finale this was a character that had more screen time—and far more solo screen time—than Echo. Some people will not stop yelling that there was no evidence, and. No. I’m sorry, there was. I can’t agree.

And some people might say, well, okay, the show misdirected you guys and pulled off a twist by having CX-2 be no one, and well, I can’t agree with that either. Twists only function if the twist is more satisfying than the conclusion to which the story seems to be leading. And I’m sorry, you can’t tell me that a season and a half of CX building and three seasons (because I can find set up all the way back in episode one of the show) for Tech survival culminating in what amounts to a boss fight is more satisfying than getting to see Omega have her big brother back. You can’t.

The reason I bring this up last is because, yes, I think CX-Tech was a plot dropped at the last minute, but because I also think that it’s the dropped plot that ripped everything else apart. CX-Tech was an incredibly efficient way to tie up most of the lingering plot threads and dropped character development.

-Crosshair’s guilt? Okay, he faces down the end result of his decision to stay with the empire and possibly something he knew about (Tech would be in this situation because of Crosshair, and were given hints that Crosshair knew) and is finally able to forgive himself because they’re able to save him.

- Hunter’s decision to finally take action and be proactive rather than reactive is validated, because it’s the thing that finally gets him his entire family back.

- Echo saves someone the same way he was saved, and maybe he realizes that it is enough and that he doesn’t have to be a soldier forever.

- Wrecker’s efforts to keep the family together and keep Hunter sane finally pay off.

- Omega is able to protect the people she charges about and finally, finally has all of her brothers.

- Thematically, it rounds off each member of the batch (Omega included) traumatically losing and then taking back their agency in a way that correlates directly to who and how they are as people.

- It also rounds out the OG batchers each being haunted by a failure that has to do with the thing that makes them special.

- You get pushback against “Clone Force 99 died with Tech! We’re not that squad anymore!” because no, it didn’t, and they’re more than a squad, they’re a family.

- It comes around and closes the wound opened in Aftermath and ripped back open by Return to Kamino: they go in for Omega and lose someone, but here, they go in for Omega and get someone back.

- Would allow Tech to close off his lingering threads and finish his character development BECAUSE THOSE REMAINED UNFINISHED.

- Completely subverts the “bury your disabled” trope by making sure we know the character whose disability was explored the most’s life is more important than his death. Seems like an important thing to do in a show that is kind of about disability. Just saying.

- Makes the lack of closure and little mentions of Tech make sense from a storytelling POV because the necessarily catharsis would come from his return.

- And it would actually add some triumph to the ending. Yes, this little family survived. They outlived the war. They’re together, despite every effort to rip them apart. They made it, despite the dark times, despite the Empire, despite what they were made to do and be. They defied all of that. That would have been so, so satisfying.

As is, without Tech, without that CX-Tech reveal, we sort of end up in this weird place where all the themes are half-baked. They are more than soldiers…except Tech, who had to fall out of the story as a soldier (despite us getting the clearest glimpse of what his life outside of soldiering could have been). They get to live how they want…except Tech. They don’t leave their own behind, except Tech that one time. They should value their own lives a little…except Tech. They’re more than a squad, they’re a family…except Tech, the only one besides Omega to say that’s what they are, doesn’t get to see it, and they don’t get to have him around. We begin the series with a broken family and end it with a family broken differently. That’s not dynamic.

So there’s no really punch to the ending. It’s sort of…well, okay, we tortured a family for three seasons I guess. Relieved that the survivors are doing okay, but that’s kind of it.

22. The finale in general is just sort of a bunch of events which happen, but which don’t lead into one other. It’s weird. It’s not that too much happens, it’s that almost nothing happens. Nothing of substance, in a way. The finale is, in a word, the only true filler episode in the entire show.

TL;DR: I think a lot of stuff got dropped from the finale. I don’t know why. I suspect that it might have to do with the strikes—basically, the script was done, most everything was recorded and boarded, and then when the finale was in production they got sudden drastic budget cuts (this was during a time when the studios were disappearing entire completed shows and movies as tax write-offs), had to gut what they had planned, and couldn’t bring the writers or even showrunners in to smooth over what was gutted or to even pick what got taken out. They wouldn’t have gotten to choose or compress things. They were on strike (because the studios wouldn’t negotiate), and whoever did choose ended up just ripping out the stuff that would actually take any time or budget to deal with (so, basically everything I laid out), killing it (literally), and using the remains of what they already had recorded. And who knows how they had to fill in gaps.

But I don’t know for sure. Maybe it was that. Maybe it was a last minute decision to take certain plot points and put them in a different show. Maybe it was executive mandate. Maybe the creative team just sucked the whole time (that’s one I have a hard time buying—we have four other shows and most of this one that tell me that they’re better at their jobs than this). Maybe everyone said screw it, who even cares anymore at the same time.

Maybe nothing happened. Who knows? I strongly suspect something bad did happen behind the scenes that was out of the creative team’s hands—I really do, because that’s the only way I can make sense of this—but until we can get someone talking without six layers of PR and NDAs, we won’t know for sure. All I know is that The Bad Batch is an amazing show with 46 episodes that range from “fine-but-clunky” to “IMMACULATE,” with more leaning towards immaculate than not, and some incredible set up, and one episode so nonsensically bad it makes me want to eat drywall.

It’s just that the one terrible episode comes right at the end.

I love The Bad Batch. I love every single episode and all the things that were set up, but…eh, I think I’ll be ignoring the finale until further notice.

[crazylittlejester]

I’m gonna go on a crazy ass rant because I’m upset and also very tired

A huge reason as to why I characterize Warriors the way that I do, regarding his fear of being poisoned and his food anxiety, is a way to explain myself and my own anxieties caused by my allergies, because when I say to someone I don’t think I can eat the food at the party/function/their house EVEN IF it was specifically made to be free of my allergens, they just don’t understand why I can’t eat it. They just don’t understand that just because it’s ‘safe’ doesn’t mean I feel safe enough to eat it, because there’s always that lingering ‘What if’ in my mind that food made outside of my vision is contaminated somehow.

It is so HARD to explain to people the genuine fear that you are going to die because a food created an odd texture in your mouth and you gave yourself a panic attack over nothing. It breaks my heart every time I go to my friends house and her mom offers to make me food because I’ve been at her house for thirteen hours and haven’t eaten a meal with them, because even though she cleans everything and offers to let me watch her make it, there’s still this loud screaming voice in my mind saying that that food is not safe to eat. And it just NEVER goes away. I feel awful because her mom is so sweet and willing to help me, and I just can’t ever accept because I manage to convince myself it’s contaminated every time

I have been dealing with this for my entire life and never not once have I been able to get someone to understand what this feels like or seen it shown in a media form anywhere. I’ve had family and therapists both just tell me to get over myself, because I’m being ‘ridiculous’ and the craziest thing to me EVER is that for the first time in nineteen years, I have had an outlet to throw this frustration into. Warriors and the food issues I have given him are so important to me because for the first time in my life I can explain this fear through a character and even if people may not relate or really, truly get what it’s like, they understand. They understand and they recognize it as a valid fear, and it’s because of a fanfiction about a traumatized war hero. (which is INSANE to me that this is what it took for people to understand, but you know what, I’ll take it)

This rant was inspired because I opened a sealed container of ice cream and the allergen labels were incorrect and now I can’t eat it and I’ve wasted money and I’m so upset and it’s been a really long week, but also because I never saw anyone talking about this when I was a kid, and if I’d had someone there to represent me like this, or just be there for me to connect with, I would’ve felt a lot better. Understanding allergies and food restrictions is so important for so many reasons, the most important being that if you know how to help someone, you can save their LIFE. And for other people who feel the same way I do, it’s so GOOD to know you’re not alone and that there’s someone out there who gets what you’re dealing with

If I can make people understand what it’s like to live life this way, then that is so important to me. If I can explain to people what to do in an emergency situation because their friend is having a allergic reaction, I will, because not enough people understand how allergies work, and I’m sick and tired of hearing stories about kids with allergies who were peer pressured into eating when they didn’t feel comfortable and then suffering the consequences, and I am TIRED of seeing companies mislabel their fucking food.

Also do NOT be afraid to ask any friends or classmates or coworkers with allergies how to use an epi pen because You Could Save Their Life. If anyone is curious, I’LL tell you, or look up a youtube video I’m sure there are some on there

Anyways, this is why I give Warriors the food issues I do in my fics, for anyone else out there with allergies who’s ever felt invalidated by people telling them their anxieties were stupid, and so people who have no idea what it’s like to fear your food will kill you can try to understand that this is the irritating reality for some of your peers. (not that everyone with allergies has this exact experience, I have a friend with allergies who just eats whatever and prays it wont kill them, but I know now that there are plenty of people out there with allergies who DO have this experience)

Sorry for kinda ranting, (I’m just a little guy 🥺), but this is something that is so hugely important to me, and sorry Warriors but you had too similar of a problem so now you get my exact issues 🫶

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 7

All right! Here's part 7. I hope you enjoy. I don't think I really have any opening notes to go over this time, so I'll just leave it there. Check out the ask game I posted yesterday if you're interested.

This week you get a bit more than usual at 1.6k words.

First, Previous

----------

“What was that you meant about me being Jazz’s second dead boyfriend?”

Over his surprised laughter, he heard Jazz’s groan from across the hall. Yeah, he really did like Jason more than Johnny.

“One of my former rogues, Johnny 13, pretended to be human and started dating Jazz for a period. He was trying to mold her body into a vessel for his equally dead girlfriend Kitty. He had a similar bad-boy vibe to you but was actually awful. We might be cool now, but I’m still pissed he did that.”

Jason blinked at him before a slow grin took over his face. “So Jazz has a history of bad choices, does she? She always acts like she’s always had it together.”

“Oh definitely not. No child raised by our parents could have it always together.”

“Jazz refuses to talk about your parents, will you tell me what they did?”

Before Danny could answer, Jazz shouted his name. “Danny! If you’re done apologizing to Jason, start helping me explain!”

Danny rolled his eyes to Jason. “Later, I suppose. Duty calls! Come on, you’ve got to have a lot of questions, dead boyfriend number two, and yours will get priority answers.”

Jason’s surprised laugh made him grin despite the deepening glares of the other Waynes.

Surprisingly, it was Duke who blurted out a question in a high, freaked-out voice first. “Why do you have a crown?”

Danny, who’d turned and took all of one step in the direction of the dining hall, paused and turned back around. “How can you see that?” And then he realized the ground was still littered with broken glass and ceramics. “Never mind. Later. Let me clean up the broken glass and stuff first. Least I can do.”

Bruce’s hand landed heavy on his shoulder. “No. You will answer our questions now.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no. Look, the short of it is that I died when I was fourteen because I was stupid. It didn’t take and now I’m only half dead. I have a ghost form and a human form and all the standard ghost powers. The main ones being invisibility”—he turned invisible for a moment—“intangibility”—Bruce’s hand fell through his shoulder—“and gravity manipulation.” He raised in the air until he was floating a foot above the floor. “I also have some more unique powers, such as ice.” With a wave of his hand, ice grew around the shards of glass.

Alfred and Duke quickly backed away from the mess, but once every piece of broken china was encased, the ice stopped growing.

“So, if you’ll just tell me where I can dispose of the shards, I’ll be happy to do it. And this way no one has to be at risk of hurting themselves cleaning broken glass. Plus I got up all the fine powder, too. No little bits that can barely be seen but will fuck up your vacuum cleaner.”

“A handy skill,” said Alfred before anyone else could speak. “I will lead you to the bins.” To the rest of the group, he said, “Jason, would you and Duke collect the desserts from the kitchen and set up the dining room? As it appears we are all allies here, there is no reason to have this conversation standing in a hallway when we could have it sitting down with good food.”

“Alfred—” started Bruce.

Only to be cut off by the butler. “Master Bruce, I will be quite safe with the young man, I am sure of it. Jason’s… ghost has explained a few things already.” Only the slight pause before the word ghost betrayed that the man wasn’t entirely at ease.

Tim stepped forward. “Let me come with you both, Alfred?”

With a put upon sigh, the man agreed. “Very well, Master Tim, if you must. Mr. Danny, please follow me.”

“Yes, sir.” Danny followed obediently, the ice floating along behind him with barely a thought.

“You don’t need to make any sort of gesture to control the ice?” asked Tim.

Danny shook his head. “Nah. It’s my ice. It’ll do what I want it to. Most ghost powers are based on thought and emotion, honestly.” They took another turn. His castle didn’t even have this many hallways.

“So when you said the ghosts in Amity, you meant that literally.” Tim acted like it was a revelation.

“Of course I did. Shortly after my accident, ghosts started attacking on a regular basis. Took years for me to get things under control and by that point I’d already failed out of high school.”

“But if it was so hard… why didn’t you call the Justice League?”

Danny threw back his head and gave a hysterical laugh. “And then have to fight an overshadowed Superman? Or, worse yet, speedster? No. No thank you. Never. A representative of Justice League Dark stopped by about six or eight months after I got my powers and I told him to keep everyone out of my haunt. He gave me a phone number in case I came across something I couldn’t handle. But I kept being able to handle it, so I never used the number.”

“Overshadowed?” asked Alfred, “I do not believe we know that term. Ah, here we are.” He opened a door that led outside to a drive where a collection of garbage bins sat. “That container there”—he pointed—“is for glass recycling. Will the ice leave the bin filled with water?”

“Not at all. It’ll be completely gone.” Danny had the ice hover over the bin and made it disappear slowly enough that the shards were released without any falling outside the container. No water remained to show how he had transported them.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Danny. Now, overshadowing?” he asked as he held the door open for the boys to precede him inside.

“Oh, um. It’s like possession. Ghosts can take over a living being’s body. But when we do, we don’t have access to memories or knowledge or anything. And after the ghost leaves, the human just doesn’t remember anything from the time they were overshadowed.”

“And is this another of those basic ghost powers you have?” Tim’s voice was hard.

“Yes,” Danny answered simply. “It feels gross, though, and I’ve only done it a handful of times. Ever. First on my dad to get out of some school trouble, but I kept making things worse. After that on my friends and Jazz, with permission, so we could document limitations and if it hurt humans. Far as we could tell, it doesn’t.”

“You sound like a very conscientious young man. I have no doubt you use your powers responsibly.”

Danny laughed. “I screwed up more than a few times before I found ghost mentors. And ghosts are always a little chaotic, so some messing around is not only expected but encouraged.”

Alfred smiled. “I’m sure we will love hearing some of those stories as we get to know you and Ms. Jasmine better.”

“I can’t… I can’t tell you everything. There’s far too much and so much of it just doesn’t matter on Earth that it’d be pointless to go into.”

Danny saw Tim open his mouth to speak, but Alfred cut him off before he could. “I only want to know one thing: will Jason be all right?”

Danny smiled in relief. “Yes. That I can promise. I don’t know for sure how best to help him, but I’ve some ideas and I’ll consult with my doctors. They’re the leading experts in human-ghost biology.”

“Then I am glad you came tonight and were able to notice something was wrong. Thank you.”

With a shrug, Danny just said, “It’s literally my job. This is what I do.” Up ahead, he could see the doorway back to the dining room.

“If it’s your job, how much do we owe you?” asked Tim.

That question brought Danny up short. “Owe me? What are you talking about?”

“If you’re doing this for work,” said Tim as they entered the dining room, “Then you need to be paid somehow. If not by us, then how?”

“What are you lying about now, Danny?” asked Jazz, shaking her head at Tim’s question.

“Nothing! Tim asked why I’m planning on helping Jason and, besides the fact that he’s dating you and I’ll obviously help, I just said it’s literally my job. You heard his reaction to that!”

Bruce grunted. “Then I suppose you know where your explanations should begin. What is your job? A full explanation this time, please.”

“Right, yes, I can totally do that. I’m so great at explaining things.”

Jazz snickered at that statement and Danny poked her as he sat down next to her. Tim and Alfred took their seats as well.

“Now, Mr. Fenton.”

Danny winced at the name. “Don’t call me that. I’m not allowed that name anymore.”

“Danny, your job,” repeated Bruce, face expressionless.

“Right. Um… Well, I do just kinda do whatever is necessary or find someone who can. Because, um, well, I’m… kinda the High King of the Infinite Realms? There’s a bunch more titles after that but I refuse to memorize them because ugh.”

Danny looked down at his plate, not wanting to see everyone’s reactions. Jazz must’ve made sure he got a piece of pie because it sat in front of him. It looked so good. Did they even know about the Infinite Realms? Justice League Dark members did, but did Batman? Jazz reached over and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

----------

Next

Looks like Danny found another excuse to delay the interrogation! (I honestly forgot about the broken glass before Duke spoke up and asked about the crown. But I did always plan to have Danny clean it up.)

Tag List: I'm getting posting errors, so I'll be splitting the tag list in two.

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks

[zweetpea]

Happy Birthday My Love

Happy birthday L

ao3 version: here

It was the best day of the year. That is to say it was Halloween, and more importantly your husband L’s birthday.

I know right? You snatched the greatest detective in the world? Obviously, you’re beautiful. Anyway enough about you!

————

You met him in a cafe in NYC when he was 23 and you were 21. You were reading a Sherlock novel, he ordered 14 big cookies, 2 strawberry slices shortcakes, Jasmine tea with a bowl of sugar cubes, and a banana split. He sat right by your table and you looked over with concern. 

“…are you okay?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m concerned for your health. You can’t seriously eat all of that in one sitting.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because that’s not a proper lunch.” You say as you lift up your drink.

“Of course not. This is my pre lunch snack to get my brain stimulated.” At his statement you spit out your drink in surprising.

“What are you, diabetic? How can someone eat so much and yet be so skinny.”

“I find that you can burn calories by using your brain.”

“Okay Einstein. Just don’t drop dead anytime soon. I’m just here on vacation, I don’t need the police suspecting me to be the serial killer going around.”

“Why would they think that? You’re just a tourist.”

“I don’t find most police to be very bright or effective. Private Investigators do more work in a week than any beat cop could do in their entire life.”

The strange man was silent for a second, so you assumed that the conversation was over. However you weren’t expecting him to hold out a cookie for you. “Take it. Movie theater popcorn isn’t that good.”

“The hell?”

“Your tickets. Jaws, 1:15. I assume that your waiting for someone. You only got a drink and during lunch hour most people buy food.”

“Oh really? When do you have lunch, if this is your snack?” 

“Same time as your movie. The only difference between then will be I’ll be dinning on fine quality food and you’ll be having stale popcorn and processed butter.” You look away. “Did I strike a nerve.”

“No offense but you’re a stranger. I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to spill my guts and whole life story to you.”

“Yet you asked me if I was okay.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen anyone eat so many sweets. Is it a crime to be concerned?”

“No. Just think of this as me repaying the generosity.”

“My Fiancé and I came out here to meet his parents.”

“You’re a little young to be getting married.”

“Uh, thanks? I don’t think it’s that weird, I’m 21. It’s not like I’m 12 being married off to some foreign diplomat.”

“Let me give you some advice. He either gave you the ring to get you to shit up or because he wants an unpaid maid.”

“Excuse me?”

“21 men don’t typically give up on hooking up with bimbo’s in short leather skirts. I’m 76%- no, 78% certain that he’s going to cheat on you by years end if he’s not already cheating. And judging by the way you smile sadly at your ring and scrunch your hands around your tickets I think you know that too.” 

“What would you do if you were me?”

“Dump him and go out with the skinny diabetic across from you, clearly.” He responded sarcastically.

“Ha, you’re so funny.” You replied back with the same tone, rolling your eyes.

“You should at least tell him what you want. If he’s not willing to negotiate, leave him.”

“What I want, huh? I want to go see Jaws, would any diabetic Einsteins be interested in movie theater candy?”

“Okay that jokes run its course. No I’m not interested in that chewy soulless garbage.”

“Could I bribe you with another slice of cake?”

“I thought that you were worried about my health? Also this is highly improper.”

“Making a new friend?”

“Chatting up a man when you’re engaged.”

“It’s not like I’m asking you out, I just don’t want to go to my movie alone. When life gives you lemons, ya know?”

“Cake and cookies. You eat some too okay. I’m Yuuji.” You shook him hand and replied back with your own name.

——

“Okay, why do you like this movie?”

“It’s a classic! Sure they probably should’ve just poisoned the stupid thing. Sometimes the right answer is the most obvious one.” You two smiled as you walked out of the theater.

He stopped dead in his tracks. “Sometimes the answer is the most obvious one. I gotta go, here…” he scribbled down something on his ticket and handed it to you. “Nice to meet you, friend.” He trotted off down the street. You looked down at his ticket and saw he gave you his number.

“Huh, not bad Emo boy.”

————

“My love, wake up. I made you breakfast.” You say as you kiss his neck.

“Let me sleep in on my birthday.” He groaned. “Don’t temp me to give in with that sultry voice. You know I can’t say no to you when you do that.”

“Not true. It’s only 82.79% affective. As evident of now.”

 “I stayed up late for weeks to perfect your favorite pancakes for you.”

“How’d I get so lucky to have a wife like you?”

“Good question, better question though is how did I manage to impress the world’s 3 greatest detectives?”

“By being intoxicating.” He replied smoothly.

“Okay Casanova, eat up before you food gets cold.” He smirked, grabbed you by your waist and pulled you into bed with him. Then he trailed kisses from your collar bone up to your jaw and finally planted a long deep loving kiss on your lips. “L!”

“How can you be mad at me when I have the sweetest treat right here in my arms?”

“I love you, L.”

“I love you too.”

BONUS: 

L: Mmh, these buttercream cheese and strawberry pancakes are delicious. Thank you my wife.

You: A perfect meal for my perfect husband. Mwah! 

You Two kiss!

[eyeballsoup7310]

I find it very interesting that people despise Vanessa for threatening Mike but I’ve not even seen a single person mention that Mike beat a man to filth in a mall fountain in front of the guys son.

Not to say mikes an inherently bad person for that, he has trauma and he reacted to something that triggered it— it’s just kind of telling that the entire fandom not only immediately forgave, but also never actually considered criticizing him for violently attacking a man in the first place, but a lot of people refuse to even imagine liking a woman because she was kind of mean to their favorite sad little blorbo due to her own trauma flaring up.

Edit cuz I thought about it again: obviously the dynamic is a little different in each situation. While both Vanessa and Mike were employed in positions of physical power at the time of their fuckups, Vanessa was specifically using her job as a threat whereas Mike didn’t even think about using his power as a guard. They both did something extremely shitty and rash, but if Vanessa weren’t an officer I don’t think people would care as much. Mike did something more comparable to, like, “getting into a drunken fistfight at dennys.”

On the flip side, threatening a man who’s Going Through It is super shitty and I don’t wanna dismiss that, but Mike still physically assaulted a man, and it’s weird to me that the fandom seems to have just forgotten. They’re fictional characters so I think trying to hold them to the exact same standards as real people is a bit weird to me (they’re meant to convey a story, not be a paragon of morality, unless of course the story they’re conveying is about morality but I’ll leave that conversation to people who have more than two braincells) but if we’re gonna criticize Vanessa I feel like we should also criticize Mike a little too

(I will still say, I don’t think Vanessa ever had any intent of trying to even legally challenge him ((i.e. arrest him or charge him or something)) and if she actually wanted to scare Mike she could’ve threatened to take Abby away, something that she previously refused to do in the “dumping shit in the river” scene. Also a stupid move, please don’t throw pills in the river, but it was the year 2000 and she was raised by William Goddamn Afton it makes sense she’s a bit of a dumbass sometimes)

Ultimately I don’t hold it against anyone if they dislike Vanessa because of this scene (or if they dislike Vanessa, especially for being a cop, in general), I guess I’m more so hung up about the fact that if she were a man, less people would hate her. Criticism of her as an officer is fine, we should be shitting on cops, some of it just feels like an excuse to be borderline misogynistic. I dunno, i tend to focus on stupid details. fnaf is a really weird series and an even weirder fandom. can everyone stop writing cops as protagonists please

Edit 2: actually thinking about it more and I just feel. Gross. Defending a character who’s a cop. It’s almost worse that it’s not even relevant to the story, for all the importance it has, she could easily be a janitor with a knife or something and absolutely nothing would change. Eugh. Curse of being written by scott cawthon, I guess. Anyways. Sorry for all the stuff I’ve said about Vanessa, I think the part of my brain saw a pathetic wet cat of a character who’s a woman this time and went incredibly stupid. Whoops :/

(If anyone has any recommendations for characters with a similar vibe to Vanessa that ARENT part of an extremely shitty job please uh. Comment them)

[mistiell]

Oblivious

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Gryffindor! Reader

Summary: You and Sirius have been pining over each other for years. When he asks you to come with him to a family gathering as his girlfriend, your feelings become impossible to ignore

Warnings: Mutual pining, fake dating trope, Sirius’ parents might be a little ooc, Walburga’s a grade A bitch to reader, Blood prejudice (I think that’s what it’s called?? Reader’s a halfblood), I think that’s it but let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 4k

A/N: Okay so I had to delete the original post because it posted the unfinished version and wouldn’t let me save any edits. Hopefully this one works. I hope you enjoy.

“No.”

“Y/n, please—.”

“Sirius, I’m not pretending to be your girlfriend to please your parents at a family gathering!” You laugh incredulously, continuing to walk through the now dwindling crowd of students in the corridor. It’s honestly ridiculous. You’re shocked that he even thought about asking you considering the fact that he’s got a new person on his arm every other week, “Besides, why would you ask me of all people? What happened to Esther? You two seemed to be pretty cozy last I checked.”

He rolls his eyes and looks at you like what he says next is entirely obvious to everyone but you, “He’s sweet, but there could never be anything serious between us.”

“Why not?”

‘Because I’m in love with you, you oblivious git!’ He wants to say, but holds his tongue. Instead, he glances away from you and shrugs, “Too affectionate.” You burst out laughing at that and he glares at you through a smile, “What?”

“That is rich coming from you.” You giggle and he swears that his heart might just flutter up out of his throat at the sound.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, chuckling a little now despite himself.

You stop dead in your tracks and scoff dramatically, practically gawking at him, “Sirius, you’re joking.”

“No?” He stops and turns to you, shaking his head and laughing at the look on your face.

“You are literally the most affectionate person I know!” You exclaim, “I mean, for fuck’s sake, you made out with Audra Ferlot in the middle of the great hall! On several occasions!”

“Okay, fine! We just... don’t mesh well.” He thinks you’ve seen through his lie until you finally shrug your shoulders.

“Alright. I’m still not pretending to be your girlfriend, though.” You state, resuming your trek down the hall.

“Oh, come on!” He groans, quickly following you and falling back into line at your side.

“Seriously, though. Why me?” You ask earnestly. You try not to sound insecure but he catches it anyways. He knows you too well by now to have missed that vulnerable lilt in your tone.

“Because you’re one of my closest friends and you don’t take shit from anyone, which is a skill you’ll need if you’re going to meet my family,” He chuckles before smirking that stupid little smirk he does just before he starts flirting, “You’re also quite pretty, but that’s just a bonus.”

You make a point of gagging exaggeratedly at his comment—despite how fast your heart is racing—and he rolls his eyes, “Merlin, you’re the only girl I’ve met that gags at compliments.”

“It wasn’t the compliment I was gagging at.” You smirk, watching the looking of confusion on his face morph into bemusement.

“Har, har, very funny,” He sighs, grabbing your wrist to stop you from walking again, “What do I have to do to get you to agree to this? Get on my knees and beg?”

You know he’s joking, but you smile up at him puckishly anyway, “I’d quite like that, actually.”

His brows raise a little in shock before a coy glint shines in his eyes. He takes both of your hands and slowly lowers himself to his knees, making a point of holding your gaze the entire time. You honestly didn’t expect him to do it. Part of you wants to tell him you were just fucking with him, that he can stand up, that people are staring. The other part wonders whether or not he’s actually about to do this, and whether or not you really want to watch.

Apparently, you do, because the second he opens his mouth, you swear you’re just about ready to combust.

“Y/n, darling, will you please do me the great honour of being my fake girlfriend at this party? I swear, I’ll do anything you ask of me, just please, for the love of Merlin, come with me.” His words aren’t anything special, but the way he says them has your face catching fire and your heart thudding rapidly against your ribs. Despite how exaggerated it is, his voice is soft and pleading, his expression only stressing that last part. He’s looking up at you through his lashes, brows quirked up into the most damning puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. Between the way he’s looking at you and the feeling of his skin against yours, you swear your heart might very well beat out of your chest. You swallow, and in a flustered panic, you utter the faintest, “Okay.”

His eyes light up and you swear if he were in his animagus form, his tail would be kicking up dust with how hard it would be wagging, “Okay?”

“Okay.” You huff, tugging on his hands to get him to stand up again. When he does, he’s so close that you have to look up a little to make eye contact, and when you do, you swear you just barely catch his gaze lingering on your lips before it lowers further. It’s then that you realize you’re still holding his hands. You all but snatch yours away and clear your throat awkwardly, “I have a few rules, though.”

“Naturally.” He smiles, beaming at you so brightly you swear you might go blind.

“Number one, no kissing.” He throws his head back and groans dramatically at that and you smack his chest, earning a very dramatic ‘ow!’ in response, “Number two, limited touching-.”

“Limited?” He smirks, that familiar cockiness laced in his tone, “That mean I can touch you a little?”

“Keep pushing your luck and I’ll revoke that privilege all together,” He shuts his mouth.

“Third,” Part of you doesn’t even want to set this rule, but you know you’ll be better off if you do, “The second the party’s over, we pretend it never happened.”

His smile falters a little at that. Just barely, but you catch it. He doesn’t protest though, just nods his head and offers you his hand, “Deal.”

You smile and nod, taking his hand and giving it a good shake.

“The party is at my place this Saturday. I’d say you should be there around seven thirty or so. You know where I live, right?” He asks, and when you shake your head, he pulls out a piece of parchment and scribbles his address down for you, folding it into quarters before handing it over.

“Is there a dress code?” You ask, though you already have an idea of what to expect.

He hums and glances away, thinking for a moment before turning his attention back on you, “Wear something formal and expensive looking.”

“Yes, because I definitely have something like that floating around in my closet.” He rolls his eyes and pulls out a pouch of coins, counting out twelve galleons and handing them over.

“There. That should be enough for a nice looking dress.” He smiles, chuckling when you splutter and try to hand it back to him.

“Wh— Sirius, this is way too much!” You exclaim, trying to follow him as he starts walking away, “I can’t—!”

“Yes, you can. I asked you to do this, the least I can do is pay for your outfit.”

“Wh— I can’t— it’s too much!” You repeat, watching as he grows further away and laughs, turning on his heals to walk backwards so he can look at you.

“Remember, something expensive looking!” He calls before disappearing around the corner, leaving you standing in the middle of the hallway. When the late bell rings you curse, scrambling to shove the coins in your own coin pouch.

“Fucking, dick.” You mutter, slinging your bag back over your shoulder before rushing to your next class.

———

Three days later, you’re walking down the street in search of 12 Grimmauld Place dressed in, ironically, the most expensive black dress you’ve ever purchased. When you reach number eleven and look the the house beside it, you notice the number thirteen beside the door and frown. You look across the street, wondering if perhaps the numbers alternated between even and uneven depending on which side if the street they were on, despite the fact that they hadn’t up until this point, and find that the numbers continue linearly in the forties instead of teens.

You huff and turn to look back at numbers eleven and thirteen. It was unlikely that Sirius had made a mistake when he gave you his address — Who forgets where they’ve lived for their entire life? — but at this point, you were ready to give up. That is, until the space between the two houses begins widening, a third slowly appearing in front of you. Your jaw drops as the place literally manifests in front of you. Never in your life have you seen something like this, you weren’t even aware this was possible.

Eventually, a set of steps appears leading up to the door, if you could even call it that, for when you finally reach it, you realize it doesn’t have a handle. The only thing that tells you that this is, in fact, the front door is a silver knocker in the shape of a serpent that sits in the middle. Hesitantly, you knock thrice with the knocker and rock back and forth on your heels, heart fluttering nervously in your chest. It feels like ages before it opens to reveal Sirius, who lights up at the sight of you.

“Y/n!” He beams, stepping aside to let you in and guiding you into what you can only describe as the most grande entry way you’ve ever seen. You’re halfway through gawking at the place when you feel Sirius’ hand on the small of your back, heart leaping to your throat as you stop yourself from jumping, “You look stunning.”

“Thanks.” You smile, finding him looking you up and down when you finally look back at him. You smirk, a little rush of confidence flooding your veins, “My eyes are up here, pretty boy.”

His eyes snap back up to yours and you swear his face flushes red as he chuckles, “Sorry.”

“S’alright.” You smile, taking the time to take in his outfit. He looks devilishly handsome in a white dress shirt and black slacks, a couple buttons undone on his top to showcase just a bit of his collarbone, a move that you’re sure was meant to piss off his mother.

He clears his throat and you look back up to find a cocky smirk hung on his lips, “My eyes are up here, pretty girl.” You open and close your mouth a few times, cheeks aflame, and Sirius laughs, “You’re cute when you’re flustered. Did you know that?”

“I— Erm, no.” You stutter. You never doubted his abilities but merlin, he’s doing a damn good job at acting like he’s your boyfriend. You figure you should start playing your part too, but every touch, every nickname, every stupid flirtatious remark has your mind drawing a blank.

Just then, a woman exits the living room and comes strutting up to you gracefully, head held high and back straight as a rod while she nurses a fancy glass of what you think is champagne in one hand. By the way Sirius deflates beside you, hand sliding to pull you a little closer to him by your waist subconsciously, you can only assume this is his mother.

“Y/n, I presume.” She looks you up and down and you adjust your dress nervously, suddenly feeling very small, “When my son told me he had a girlfriend, I certainly wasn’t expecting… you.” You aren’t entirely sure if it’s an insult when you catch the way she’s looking at you, more curious and a tad judgemental rather than disdainful, “A Slytherin, are you?”

“Oh, erm— No. Gryffindor.” You smile a tight lipped smile as you watch the curiosity slip from her gaze, being replaced with the disdain you were worried about.

“What a shame. I’d have thought my son could do better.” She hums. Christ, barely three feet in the door and you’re already being criticized.

“Mother—.”

“He could.” You straighten your posture to appear a bit more confident despite how nervous you actually feel, “But definitely not with a Slytherin.”

Sirius snorts beside you before clearing his throat awkwardly and willing his face into a neutral expression. This is why he brought you. Well, this and the fact that he’d madly in love with you, but he tries not the think about the latter.

Walburga purses her lips and raises a brow at you, but stays quiet, much to Sirius’ surprise. She shoots him a disapproving look before disappearing into the living room, leaving you and Sirius alone in the entry way.

“That was bloody brilliant!” He whisper yells, grinning from ear to ear, “I knew bringing you was a good idea.”

“Yeah, well, it certainly wasn’t a good idea for my blood pressure.” You titter, hand placed on your chest to will your heart rate to slow down. He laughs and starts guiding you into the living room by the small of your back.

“So, who’s who?” You whisper and he jerks his head subtly towards the man standing next to his mother.

“That’s my father. The two they’re speaking to are my aunt and uncle, Cygnus and Druella.” He’s dipped his head closer to whisper to you, breath ghosting the shell of your ear. You swallow thickly, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end with how close he is, “You know Reg, of course.”

“Oh, of course. Who could forget him.” You chuckle and he snorts, laughing a little with you. The boy in question is currently stood off to the side, that familiar brooding aura practically engulfing him.

“He is quite the character, isn’t he.” You giggle at that and he grins. 

“Sirius.” Your attention turns back in the direction of Sirius’ parents to find them directly in front of you. You startle and Orion laughs, a sound that you honestly didn’t think he was capable of making based on what Sirius has told you about him, “My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Oh, um, it’s alright.” You titter, chancing a glance at Sirius and finding him tense beside you. You look back to Orion and offer your hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise.” He gives you a tight lipped smile and it’s then that you realize this is just for show. He disapproves of you just as much as Walburga does. You shift your weight between your feet nervously. You know this is just for tonight, that none of this is real, but a part of you had hoped Sirius’ parents would at least give you a chance. Probably because a part of you hoped he would give you a chance. Merlin, this was a stupid idea. Why did you ever agree to this—?

Sirius gives your waist a gentle squeeze before subtly rubbing your side with his thumb over the fabric of your dress. A way to say ‘I’m here. Calm down.’ without drawing too much attention. He can practically feel your nerves radiating off of you. Little does he know, his touch is doing absolutely nothing to calm your racing heart.

“Sirius mentioned we’d finally be meeting you today.” You attention focuses back on the man in front of you and you smile.

“Finally? Has he mentioned me before?” You ask, looking to Sirius and finding his face flushed.

“In passing, yes.”

“Though I can’t begin to understand why.” His mother mutters and your stomach twists into a knot.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, you aren’t a fan of confrontation, but the words have left your mouth before you can really think about the consequences.

“My son in love with a half-breed like you?” She scoffs, and that knot in your stomach pulls taut, “I can only wonder what possessed him to even consider it.”

“Half-breed? What—?”

“Your father is F/n L/n, correct? Successful, powerful. Any witch in her right mind would have married him in a heartbeat,” you swallow thickly, glancing at Sirius to find him scowling at Walburga, though she pays him no mind. Instead, her gaze is focused entirely on you, “But no. He went and married your mother, a muggle.”

“How did you—?” How did you know that? Is what you were about to ask, but you don’t get the chance.

“We have eyes and ears everywhere, miss L/n.” She states, gaze cold and unwavering, “You’ll find it is impossible to hide anything from us for long. Especially when your sorry excuse for a mother is married to one of the most successful men in the wizarding world.”

You find that the shame that’s been building in your gut shifts, anger flaring hot and bright in its place. Your eyes darken and your gaze hardens, spine straightening as your anger gives you a new found sense of confidence.

“You have no right to speak of my mother that way.” You state, tone firm and deadly. It almost dares her to do it again, to see what happens.

She quirks a brow at you, face screwing up into a scowl, “Talking back to your elders. Has no one taught you respect?”

“Respect is a two way street, Mrs. Black,” You state, watching her scowl deepen, “Whether you’re my elder or not.”

“How dare you.” She hisses, and Sirius goes rigid beside you, grip tightening on your waisy, “I refuse to be disrespected like this in my own house! Especially not by a filthy mudblood like yourself.”

Your heart drops to your stomach and the anxiety that’s been building in your chest reaches a breaking point, each breath feeling shallower than the last.

“Leave.” She states, leaving no room for arguments, “I don’t ever want to see your face here again.”

“Gladly.” You glower, pulling away from Sirius and speed walking towards the door.

You hear him call your name but you pay him no mind, storming out of his house despite the fact that it’s now pouring. It takes mere seconds for the rain to soak through your clothes and wreck your makeup, though it’s unclear whether your mascara is running due to weather or your tears. You can hear Sirius calling your name over the sound of droplets showering the pavement, hear his steps splashing over the sidewalk. 

“Y/n, wait! Please!” He grasps your wrist and turns you around, face falling further when he sees the look on your face.

“What?” You ask, voice thick with tears, “What do you want? If you expect me to go back in there, you’re wasting your time.”

“I don’t. I came to see if you’re alright—.”

“Of course I’m not alright! Your mother practically ripped me apart in there!” You exclaim and he winces. You laugh wryly and stare off behind him, holding the sides of your head in your hands before running them down your face and letting them fall limp at your sides, “Y’know, there was actually a part of me that wanted this to work out. I thought that if they liked me, maybe—.” You stop yourself short, swallowing the lump in your throat.

He steps into your space and tentatively takes your hand, “Maybe what?”

You suck in a shuddering breath and shake your head, hair hanging wet in your peripherals when you lower your head to stare at the ground. 

“Hey,” His touch is as soft as his voice when he tilts your head up to look at him, “Maybe what?”

You stare up at him earnestly, eyes wide and glassy. When you finally speak, your voice is wobbly and barely louder than the rain falling around you, “I thought maybe you’d… I don’t know, maybe you’d want me? I thought if they approved, you might want to keep me around. Not just as your friend.”

“Y/n, I…” He wets his lips and seems to think for a moment before sighing with a small smile, “Fuck it.”

 In an instant his hands are cradling your face and his lips are on yours. You let out a small sqeak of surprise before you’re kissing back, hands sliding up to grip his collar and pull him ever closer. He chuckles through his nose and you feel the vibrations tickle your lips, his breath fanning over your cheeks in short bursts as his thumbs softly caress your cheekbones. The kiss is languid, almost overwhelming, the both of you savouring what you’ve denied each other for so long.

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, your heavy breaths mingling in the space between you. His hands leave your face only to settle on your waist to bring you closer.

“What was that for?” You ask softly and he snorts before throwing his head back and breaking out into a fit of laughter. You can’t help but laugh a little with him, “What’s so funny?”

“Merlin, how much is it going to take for you to get it?” He chuckles, his laughter dying down and being replaced with an almost unbearably soft smile. He tucks a few wet strands of hair behind your ears and cups your face again, voice soft but firm, “I already want you, Y/n. I’ve always wanted you.”

“Really?” You utter, and he can’t help but think that it’s entirely unfair for you to still look so beautiful with your makeup running and your face all flushed and blotchy from crying.

He guides your face closer to press a kiss between your brows before pulling back to look at you again, “Really.”

You beam at him and lean up to kiss him again before pulling back suddenly, “Oh.”

“What?” He frowns.

“I think we broke one of my rules.” You whisper and he chuckles.

“Yeah, I think we did,” He smiles, looking down at your lips again, “But really, when have we ever cared about rules?”

“We?” You quirk a brow and he laughs.

“Okay, when have I ever cared about rules.” he pecks your lips, “Better?” 

“Better.” You giggle, leaning up to press a few more soft and sweet kisses to his lips.

————

Just over a week later, you’re sat in the Gryffindor common room. With it being Saturday, you decide to spend a bit of time reading before your friends decide to finally drag you out with them.

You’re curled up against the arm of the sofa with your book, thoroughly lost in the story when you hear James and Sirius bickering about something as they come down the stairs, Peter and Remus following close behind.

“You are so, painfully wrong, prongs.” Sirius laughs before spotting you and practically draping himself against your side. He pulls you close with the arm around your shoulders and you lean into him when he pecks your cheek, “Hello, love.”

“Hi.” You smile, shifting to lean against him instead of the sofa. You catch James looking between the two of you suspiciously and frown, “What?”

“What is this?” He asks, gesturing between the two of you with his pointer finger.

You turn to Sirius to find an amused look hung on his face, “You didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me what?” James asks, looking thoroughly confused.

“I wanted to see how long it would take for him to figure it out.” Sirius says, watching the look of realization dawn on his best friend’s face, “Looks like the answer is a week.”

“Oh my god!” He exclaims, “Fucking finally! Merlin, we were all so sick of watching you two pine over each other like love sick puppies.”

“To be fair, one of them is a love sick puppy.” Remus smirks and you chuckle at the halfhearted glare Sirius aims at him.

“Sod off, Moony.” He laughs.

“So, how’d it happen? Did he finally confess his undying love for you?” James asks and you chuckle, sharing a look with Sirius.

“It’s kind of a long story.”

[johnnycadeirl]

prolly never gunna finish lol!

The Outsiders (Johnny's perspective)

I am Johnny Cade, a 16 year old greaser. I live in Tulsa Oklahoma, and I have my entire life, I have 2 parents, a mom and a dad. Sometimes I wish I didn't have either and then maybe I could be at peace, I could probably live with my pals, too. Ponyboy, Sodapop, and Darry would probably take me in, or Two-Bit if they could. My friends understand the situation at my house, they've saved me from my folks a handful of times. Two-Bit especially, sometimes I feel like I’d be better off dead, my parents sure would like that.. They probably wouldn’t notice for a while anyway since I haven't been going home as often anymore, and when I do.. They either ignore me or beat on me. I usually sleep at the Curtis house, or I stay with Two-Bit from time to time, when I can’t stay with Two or Pony, I sleep in the lot. I’m sure I would have a place with Dally if he didn’t stay at Bucks all the time. He doesn't have the best relationship with his parents either. His dad couldn’t care less about his whereabouts, and state. And we never hear about his mother, or any relatives that he may be able to stay with. He digs okay, so does the rest of my gang. They’re the closest relationships I’ve had to family. I'm smaller, and younger compared to all of them, well.. Except for ponyboy, at least for the age part. Ponyboy is 14 and he has already lost both of his parents in a car accident. I feel absolutely terrible for their entire family, especially Darry.. He’s only 20 and he has to continue raising his 2 kid brothers, he doesn’t usually have issues with Sodapop, but him and Ponyboy have never really gotten along, which got worse after their parents died. It was rough on the rest of the gang too. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were great people, and they took care of those who didn't have great relationships with their parents.. Me and Dally especially- Dally and Mrs. Curtis were real close, I’m sure their passing was also very hard on him.. Of course, he would NEVER let anyone know that, especially anyone in the gang. He thinks emotions and stuff like that are wastes of time, and he had never done so much as cry in front of any of us. Of course we had seen him angry, he hates the world and almost everything in it. He doesn't seem to hate me though, I’ve never been to sure as to why.. But I love Dally a lot, I love the entire gang a lot. They’re all I’ve got in life, without the gang I have nothing, I AM nothing. I would probably be dead and gone if it weren't for them. Or I’d be in a different state, trying to start a new life, without my parents being there to bug me and hurt me. Maybe there wouldn’t be any “Greasers” or “Socs” there too.. Just people. Normal, plain old people.. Maybe I’d be able to go to church there too.. Me and Ponyboy used to go all the time, we invited Two-Bit, and the rest of the gang once, they caused a pretty dramatic scene.. So we never went again. Ponyboy always talks about living in the country, pretty far 'away from the city.. I don’t think I’d mind the “country life” too much, I’d just need to get used to it for a bit, especially since I’ve never been outside of our neighborhood. Maybe there I’d be considered less stupid. That’s all I’ve ever been called by teachers and my parents. I dunno, maybe I am stupid.. I can really get excited about learning if it’s something I find interesting. Ponyboy has mentioned a book before Gone with the Wind. Maybe in the country Ponyboy would be able to read it to me or something. Ponyboy likes books a lot,

[mommalosthermind]

So I'm slowly starting to come to understand that we shouldn't censor things but also I'm still a little uncomfortable with the site allowing things like pedophilia to be written in a way that's romanticized. I get it. Avoid it since I don't like it but at what point do we say, 'hmm this isn't okay.' I mean I get it, fiction doesn't hurt people but if that were truly the case then why are we lobbying for rep/realism/etc in media? Fiction, at some point, has to have some effect on real life.

Hello darling! I got your second ask too, please don’t worry, you’re definitely not coming across as unkind.

And you’re definitely not the only one to have similar thoughts or concerns.

But my answer’s going to be the same.

There is no such thing as a little censorship, and opening that particular can of pringles is not going to end happily for anyone. It’s better to not open it at all. And yes, that means people will create deeply fucked up things. But they should have the ability to do so, just like you should have the ability to avoid the hell out of it.

(Which, for AO3, is where I start in on my tag your shit appropriately/read the fucking tags!!! Rants. Learned the hard way a million years ago when I *thought* I was reading something very very different than I was, so when I got to ‘Character has sex with a dog’ I lost my mind, then realized I fucked up and hadn’t read the tags. If I had, I would have noped out of that fic immediately. So. That entire encounter was on me.)

“At what point is this not okay?” Well, that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Who would be in charge of deciding where the line goes? Who gets to decide what goes on which side of the line?

The last anon seemed to think writing was the same as doing, and thus writing shouldn’t be allowed at all.

And then got annoyed when I pointed out how often those unsavory themes happen in movies or TV without any warning at all, and generally, people move right past it.

Fiction doesn’t hurt people. People hurt people.

My favorite comparison is still my kitchen curtains, because my curtains are still weird: fairies, trees. Very witchy. I’ve seen people do literal double takes over my curtains. I can tell by the way they squint they can’t stand them or don’t understand why I would want something so *non-traditional* in such a public part of my house. They keep their damned mouths shut though, because they know its rude to tell me to change my curtains to fit their idea of a kitchen. (And also because I’d toss them out after laughing my ass off but that’s not relevant)

Person A has an idea of what ‘acceptable’ levels are, but that’s much much less than person B. Who wins? No one.

And no one should have the power to just decide things like that.

It’s stupid o’clock at night where I am, so I’m not about to go digging for studies, but I know we’ve got pretty solid proof that media doesn’t cause behaviors spontaneously. At the risk of sounding old, but this same argument once was applied to music, too. The weird compromise was slapping content warnings for language/sex/violence on CD’s. (Y’know. A significantly less useful form of tagging?) It didn’t… really do shit for anyone. Other than make those CD’s more attractive to teens, tbh. But. The argument at the time was rap and rock were violent and would make kids go insane and violent just by listening.

It… didn’t. It still doesn’t.

Reading dark fic isn’t going to cause someone to do something out of the blue.

Someone who’s debating doing the thing might seek out media about whatever their obsession is, yes. But their obsession was already there. Fic, music, movies, they’re not going to create it. I’d wager those girls who murdered their friend and blamed ‘slenderman’ had signs long before they went that far.

Part of the problem with this entire thought is that it’s thought policing. Folks assume the thought equals the sin. And as someone with pretty wonky intrusive thoughts and a long family history of mental issues— no. I have weird ass thoughts all the time. ‘Huh, I’m up high, I should jump, maybe I’ll float.’ I’m not gonna act on them. I know they’re weird thoughts. I’m not gonna float, I’d just die. Your brain just… says things sometimes. Some of us more than others. Therapy’s helpful for folks who struggle with that.

Fiction’s got nothing to do with it, though. Fiction just represents someone else working through their lives.

Melissa Etheridge wrote a song (scarecrow) about Matthew Sheppard’s murder. She didn’t cause anyone else to go torture another lonely gay boy to death. She was working through her grief at losing another one of us. And we worked through our grief when she sang.

Art is made for the making of it. Fiction—even the kind that squicks you— is still art.

As for the other part of your ask, the representation? I’m not sure I see the connection you’re trying to make. When people talk about rep, they’re talking about making the characters more authentic, more reflective of the beautiful range of humanity at large. Not seven brown haired white guys and one bitchy white woman and the unnamed not-white side character used for shit jokes. There should be a rainbow of humans in media, because little black girls deserve to know they’re strong and smart and beautiful. Because queer kids of all sizes and shapes deserve to know they’re loved. Because boys should get to be princesses. Because people with chronic illnesses, disabilities, they should get to be part of the stories. Because white folk need to see the rest of the world as human. Folks want to see themselves in the heroes, the happiness, the successes.

Too many kids never get to see themselves on the screen or read about people who look like them.

I loved belle as a kid because she looked like me and she loved reading. I loved Ariel because she wanted to be free. I cried over encanto because I know what it’s like to be excluded, what it’s like to be the big sister. I cried over reading red white and royal blue because the gays get to live and they’re happy. Everyone should have some way to connect.

The realism bit,though, I don’t think is the consumers as a whole. Yeah, some folks prefer it, but from what I’ve seen over the last 20 years, it’s more like the people who control most popular media have decided that’s what they wanna make. I don’t care for it, tbh. Media doesn’t need to be an exact copy of the real world.

Stories are meant as a place of solace, or at least a place that is different, than your day to day.

I like stories that have soft, happy ever afters. We’ve worked through the Big Bad Thing and come out stronger for it and now we get our well deserved rest. The real world doesn’t give me those things. Other people look at the state of the world, read seriously fucked up shit, and then go, well, at least my life isn’t that. It could be worse! And this is their happy place.

So. I’m not sure I’m much help here, but tl;dr: remember the tenets of fandom:

1) kinktomato: your kink is not my kink and that is okay. (You like this, I do not, I’m gonna leave it alone, the end.)

2) DLDR: Don’t like? Don’t read. Filtering and blocking are your besties.

3) ship and let ship (or sit down) — don’t press your dislike onto the people who do like. Let ‘em alone, go find what you do like.

4) tag appropriately, read the damn tags.

5) curate your own spaces. You alone are responsible for your online existence/experiences

6) have fun. Enjoy it. Be weird. Be silly. Be fucked up. Be unrepentantly yourself. Don’t let anyone else take that away from you.

[hyacinth-sims]

Il mio raggio di sole

Summary: A Mercutio Monty character study. Often seen as the jokester who is second in line to the Monty throne, many don’t know what lurks beneath the surface.

Warning: Vague descriptions of death, SAAAAAD :(

Pairings: None, Even more vaguely implied past Tybalt Capp/Mercutio Monty, Past Consort Capp/Patrizio Monty

Word Count: 1.8k

Author’s Note: I really didn’t know if this one would be as sad as Tybalt’s but I think it is, oops! I’m also amazed at the fact that Mercutio’s character study and Tybalt’s are almost the exact same length, maybe give or take 5-10 words. While I feel like I’ve always “gotten” Tybalt, Mercutio was a bit more of a challenge but I feel like I really learned a lot about what I think of him through writing this 😁 Also if you have any one shot ideas (preferably VV/Tycutio) for me, feel free to send them! I’ve had so much fun with my current iterations of Tybalt and Mercutio (does that make me a sadist?) and I’m excited to see how they’ll interact with each other. 

There were a few important facts about Mercutio Monty. He spoke English and Italian fluently but mostly kept the Italian within the family. He wanted to master the electric guitar before the age of 25 and the acoustic guitar before 28. His favorite food was calamari with a spritz of lemon juice. All of the romantic poetry he’d written in his literature classes wasn’t actually about anyone but rather some cool bugs he’d seen outside of his house. He liked tall men and women of any height and liked it if both looked as if they could kick his ass. He’d only let his hair be as short as just beneath the chin and as long as his collarbone. And most importantly, he never wanted to be the Monty heir. 

He was fine with letting that responsibility fall onto his younger brother, Romeo, who seemed rather excited to one day lead the family. Mercutio, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine being tied to Veronaville for the rest of his life. He wanted to see what else was out there for him, past the rolling hills, dividing rivers, and the feud that hung over his hometown like a dark cloud. 

It would be impossible to talk about himself and his life without mentioning ‘the feud,’ as it was aptly yet uncreatively called. It started long before he was born, and much as he wanted to believe otherwise—it would likely continue on past his death. Mercutio never wanted any part in it, but it seems as though his pure existence as a member of the Monty family was enough to be involved. Of course, he would defend his family when insulted, but the entire thing was just stupid. 

It initially started generations ago over a geographical dispute; both families wanted to claim the lands by the river as their own. Clearly, it was never resolved because it only gave way to more violence and more death. The current iteration of the feud began with his Nonno and Consort Capp on the other side of town. What was interesting, though, was the fact Consort was not born a Capp. They were matriarchal on their side of town, and the feud started before Consort even married into the family. Supposedly, it was due to their shared business going under, but plot twist—Nonno was actually dating Contessa Capp, and Consort had stolen her from right under his nose. That’s not all, though, double plot twist! Consort and Nonno had actually been a thing before the entire thing with Contessa happened. Nobody else knew about this except for Mercutio and the eldest generation, of course. He really had no idea who he’d tell or if it was worth talking about at all. 

Even after this, though, there were ebbs and flows of the feud. The most peaceful the town had been in a long while had been during his childhood. There were no fights in the streets, no murmured threats, and even some positive interactions were had between the Montys and Capps. His parents often encouraged the latter, allowing their children to have playdates with the Capp children on occasion and rebuking Nonno and Nonna’s disapproval of it. His father had even been childhood friends with Cordelia Capp, the heiress before her untimely death. 

He recalled times on the playground as children, hitting each other with foam swords and playing pretend—as if they were the Capp and Monty heiress and heir, respectively, in 1600s Veronaville. 

Things had seemed to be on an upward path throughout his early years, with his father on the Monty side and Cordelia on the Capp side. Neither of them was interested in continuing the feud, and there were even talks of peace in the future. It all seemed too good to be true, and it turned out to be just that. There was a fire in their home, and the kids had managed to escape without any scratches somehow—but Cordelia and Caliban had not been so lucky. 

Mercutio was 12 years old when this happened, and he wanted to attend the funeral. He knew Cordelia and Caliban; they had never been anything but nice to him. He wanted to show his support and make sure that the Capp siblings were okay. His parents were both wrecks; leaving the house seemed nearly impossible for them. His Nonno yelled at him for even thinking of such a thing.

He wasn’t able to go to the funeral. 

There were whispers on the other side of town that the fire was deliberately caused by a member of the Monty family. Mercutio never wanted to imagine that someone he was related to was capable of something like that. Whether or not they were true, they had brought back the feud in full force. Friends he thought he’d made had become strangers again, and the town had become more divided than ever. 

It caused a particularly bad falling out, one that had yet to be topped. Childhood crushes should never be affected by adult problems, but the feud seemed to truly want to take over every aspect of his life. 

His parents were never quite the same after the fire. His mother was becoming heavily pregnant, but she was also growing sicker. She was bedridden most days and often in too much pain to even speak to Mercutio. There was a feeling of impending doom that hung over their home; they all knew that something bad was going to come eventually.

Mercutio found her. She was still in bed, but she no longer looked in pain. For the first time in months, she looked at peace, but he still had tried his hardest to wake her up. 

Olivia Monty had passed away during the night. The doctors said it was due to something called eclampsia, something she had never discussed with her children before. Everyone was too distraught to plan a proper funeral for her, especially his father. Mercutio did not know the man his father had become during his last 6 months of life. He was withdrawn, solemn, as if he had lost his will to live the day his wife had died.

Claudio Monty passed away exactly half a year after his wife. They called it broken heart syndrome—it seems even his body didn’t have much of a reason to go on either. Mercutio was lucky to have not been the one to find him, but he’ll never forget the wails of his grandmother as she begged for him to come back. 

The funeral was one for both his mother and father. There was no burial or casket, and his father had wanted to be cremated alongside his mother. He made that very clear before his death. It was a quiet affair inside his grandparent's home, and he’d chosen to block out most of his memories of it except for one. 

His nonno had pulled him aside as his brother and sister cried and cried. He’d told him that while he was taking them in now, he and Nonna would not be there forever. As the oldest, it was now Mercutio’s responsibility to look out for his younger siblings. He needed to guide them, to protect them, to lead them through the dark and uncertainty of what life would bring now.  

So Mercutio stood by them as they cried, his face unwavering as he tried to be the image of strength and resilience. Ever since that day, he had cried only maybe twice more in his life. His grandparents never seemed to be too concerned with his well-being, taking his positive attitude at face value. It was as if they had forgotten that Mercutio was the one to find his mother dead, not Romeo or Viola. 

Nonna would call him il mio raggio di sole, her ray of sunshine. She said their home wouldn’t be as bright without him, as he brought the light into what became a deeply dark period of time for them. It was at that very moment that Mercutio knew what he was born for. Romeo was born to be the heir, to become the leader of their family and take up that responsibility. Viola was born to be doted on, the youngest girl with two older brothers with a coy smile and a face identical to their mother’s.

Mercutio was born to keep everyone happy. He was born to pretend that he was fine, that if he could be nothing but jokes and laughter after such a tragedy—maybe the rest of the family could heal as well. But as with many things in Veronaville, it was all a facade.

More often than not, Mercutio couldn’t get the image of his deceased mother out of his head. He wanted to yell at the urns of his mother and father, asking just why they couldn’t hold on for their children. Why his mother couldn’t take better care of herself during her pregnancy, why his father couldn’t have found a will to live through his struggling kids, just why, why, why. 

He never spoke about his parents, not to anybody. He knew he’d fall apart if their names left his lips. He never wanted to be that vulnerable, he never wanted to cry, and he never wanted to show that side of him to anyone. 

Mercutio wrote love poems about bugs. He wrote a sonnet about an orchid mantis on the blooming flowers in their garden. A haiku about a ladybug that had made its way onto the dashboard of his car. A ballad about a butterfly that had fluttered around his head for what felt like a lifetime. It was easier to lie, to lie and say he was letting his guard down through the writing he submitted to his literature teacher. 

He kept everything that was real locked away inside a leather-bound journal, which was gifted to him by his Nonna after his report card showed an A- in Literature. He wrote about death, despair, hopelessness, depression, about how he really felt. He wrote about love, about what it would mean to let someone fully in, about freedom, about escaping this hell hole that threatened to destroy him before he could graduate. The leather-bound journal held the key to his very soul, and he would never let anyone see the inside of it. 

Not now, anyway. 

[bigtittiecomitte]

[Small Rant!]

(Hope this is alright!! Sorry for my ask being so long and all over the place, but I just had so much to say!)

I honestly might leave the fandom, I'm REALLY tempted to at this point. Because, I don't know how much more of this toxicity, the behavior of Envy and V stans (NOT ALL, BTW) and the Nuzi hatedom, I can take..especially knowing that Envy and V stans are doing the same thing they did back when episode 6 released, attacking and harassing Liam Vickers + sending death threats...it's absolutely disgusting and unacceptable and shouldn't be normalized, AT ALL. These individuals who are doing this aren't real fans of the show and don't care about it, they don't give a shit about the love, dedication and care that goes into Murder Drones or all the hard work that goes into the show. They only care about wether their ship becomes canon or not and if they don't get what they want, they start harassing and shitting on the crew behind the show, especially the creator (Liam) and say they don't wanna watch the show anymore and it just proves they were probably NEVER fans in the first place and only cared about shipping and that's just so damn sad, it's especially pathetic and childish how some of these fans act..

I've said it before and I'll say it once more, SHIPPING ISN'T EVERYTHING, STOP MAKING IT A BIG DEAL. There's so much more to love and appreciate about the Murder Drones and there's so much to love about the show and shipping shouldn't be something you should even go into and look forward to when getting into any piece of media, MD isn't even a romance show. I'm overall just so damn tired and sick of this fandom, like REALLY TIRED..it's just so damn draining and exhausting especially when the same arguments are used again and again. The fandom just sucks and I fear it'll only get worse and I really don't know if I can stay for much longer. (I'm seriously missing the pilot-era days when the fandom was small and not that bad) but even though the community isn't the best, I'm glad we have some respectful and caring individuals in the fanbase like you and others, I honestly don't think the fandom isn't as bad here as it is on both TikTok and Twitter, the MD fandom side of things on Tumblr is more tame compared to the other social medias I mentioned.

Overall, MD is such a comfort show for me and has had such a huge impact on me, it's seriously one of my favorite shows, I'm not even joking. I'm incredibly thankful and happy for it's existence and also thankful to Liam, GLITCH, the animators, the VA's and just the entire team as a whole for making such a great and wonderful show! It means so much to me and I'll never stop loving it despite it's ups and downs + the community not being the best at times, I'm truly thankful for this show and those I've met in the fandom. ❤️💞

Hey you Dorky goober

No need to apologise for the long rant. Generally I adore long rants so win win for both of us (if anyone does need to rant about something then I’ll totally be here for you, I know what it feels like to not rant about something but you really do)

With you thinking about leaving the fandom due to the toxicity honestly I would not blame you at all. I’m someone who’s comfort ship is Nuzi so just seeing any hate would make me think about it for the rest of the day

Usually what I do when I see any toxicity is just laugh at it, laugh at how stupid their take is. Recently I had a fight with this Lesslie person and all I did was laugh at how silly it was like bro was getting aggressive bc people preferred Nuzi

I’m trying not to dogpile on toxic V fans + Envy shippers cause I don’t want to seem too obsessive over drama but for some reason it always gets worse

There are toxic Nuzi shippers but there aren’t as many as toxic Envy shippers like never in my life have I seen an Envy shipper getting doxxed because they like Envy. For some reason it’s always the toxic Envy shippers that make this fandom miserable

I don’t think they even know that they’re toxic shippers and desperately need to leave the fandom, most of them are kids but that never excuses any actions that they do because it’s the internet, once you post something it’s there forever

Murder Drones has so much in store than just romance and I’m saying this as someone who mostly posts Nuzi related things although I really do want to post more about the lore and I even planned for a full post on the details (I was pretty busy so I didn’t complete that but it’s in the drafts lol)

Not only the lore but just Murder Drones in general, the romance is great but so is the show, just everything about this show is filled with so much love and you can tell just by all the silly things they put in the backgrounds and the writing by Liam

Like the N x Uzi scenes are just small scenes like they’re put in different places but it works because the show isn’t focused on romance. I do think people forget that the N x Uzi scenes are quite literally important for the plot as well, it’s not just there for fanservice. Liam knows what he’s doing and anyone that tells him otherwise can go fuck off honestly

There are bad people but there are also a lot of good people in this fandom, a lot that do appreciate Murder Drones for even continuing. Screw whatever those 13 year olds on Twitter say, they don’t know crap about respect

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Honestly it may not be your intention or of other people in the conversation but some comments around the sqq light eyes post have really rubbed me off the wrong way. I'm saying this with all the respect in the world and acknowledging your post about how you don't condemn harassment, but even before with the curly haired binghe and overall in danmei fandom it feels overly judgey towards westerners. Like these physical characteristics being a result of "whitewashing" when there's examples of official art or asian artists (the ZeldaCW art you linked) being some of the earliest examples. Most of us don't know Chinese, many don't even speak english and have to rely on MTL. I really appreciate this work you're doing and going to the original source, but I'm not into the gatekeeping tone some people are taking. Like, AHA! I knew this and actually all the people who don't are stupid for regurgitating fanon like it's canon. I'll be honest, there's plenty of fanon I don't like nor agree with, and I also make dumb mistakes myself (it's me, I'm one of the people who'd forgotten the hand scar came from jin lan woops). Sorry if this is too long or overly rambly, also feel free to ignore it. I mostly wanted to share this as a PSA that tone matters, be kind to others, and that preserving canon is not justification to regard people who go with fanon with a high brow. Regards, a non white non asian ESL 3rd world country svsss fan that's been in the fandom for a couple years (I point that out because I've seen way too many times any criticism be attributed to butt hurt white americans).

Thank you for your message!

When I make my posts here, I try my best for a neutral, informative tone, but between neurodivergence and linguistic issues, I’m not always certain exactly how it comes across. Perhaps a bit too blunt, perhaps the academic or formal tone I often use may seem stuck-up… really, I don’t have the best sense of it, though I do try quite hard.

I want to provide information here. This is to provide information for a few types of people: those who wish to maintain canon accuracy, and those who wish to know where an idea might have originated whether or not they care about canon accuracy in their own works.

Some people will hold canon as the most important. Others don’t particularly care. Some prefer fanon. How one interacts with fandom is entirely their own decision. My blog here isn’t trying to tell people they’re wrong. Or tell people that I’m better than they are, or that those who didn’t know something was fanon, or who enjoy fanon, are stupid or otherwise less than those who follow canon.

Fandom is supposed to be fun. I do this because I like analyzing things. Because it might be nice to have a record of details to see where trends came from. Even some things, I haven’t been sure about myself until doing the research, and some I’ve been mistaken on too!

Things can get muddled up. Especially when the wiki is updated with fanon information. It’s not hard for something to be thought of as canon when it isn’t, especially if trying to quickly reference something without reading the book again. No one is better than anyone else for what they do and don’t know about a fictional book.

And when it comes to design choices, there’s no need to jump right to whitewashing. A knee-jerk reaction is common in fandom spaces to anything that may be “problematic,” but sometimes a design is just a design. I only went into more detail on the post regarding LBH’s hair texture because that’s something i have experience with, and it’s not something widely known about that there are differences.

At any rate, there’s no reason to be unkind to others. People should be having fun in fandom. Those who wish to stick to canon should respect those who don’t care to, even if it’s not for you.

My posts are not meant to create a moral judgement against anyone.

If you’re using it for anything but information, then you’re using it the wrong way.

I don’t have the best eye for tone, but I will continue to do my best to maintain neutrality, and informativeness. Everyone who makes conversation on my posts, just because you knew something and others didn’t doesn’t make you better than them. It just means you knew something. Just because you didn’t know something, that doesn’t make you worse— it just means you didn’t know.

Let’s not moralize this sort of thing.

Enjoy the novel, enjoy the adaptations and interpretations that you like.

[password-door-lock]

“Boss,” you stammer, slamming the door to the intelligence room behind you. “Bossbossbossbossboss.” It comes out sounding like one very, very long word as you practically catapult yourself into Unknown's arms.

He didn't ask you to do that, but he doesn't particularly mind— it seems like you know your place at Magenta: on his lap, where he can keep an eye on you and stop you from wreaking whatever havoc you've got your heart set on at the moment. “What is it?” He asks, expecting more of the same nonsense that you always try to serve him in moments such as this one.

“Okay, so, as you know, you told me to go find something useful to do and leave you alone,” you recount, “Presumably because you're doing something so horrible that you don't even want me to see it, which says an awful lot, considering all the shit you've let me see already.” You're not entirely wrong there, but Unknown doesn't bother letting you know. You can press as much as you want, but he's never going to give you any more information than he sees fit.

“Yes,” Unknown agrees instead, nebulously allowing you to fill in the blanks for yourself. A month ago, he would have been certain that you'd make up some nonsense and be wrong about it, but he has learned that it's better not to underestimate you. His assistant is many things, but stupid is not one of them. Unobservant, perhaps. Dependent, of course. Annoying, even— but never stupid.

“Right,” you shake your head, before promptly nestling into his embrace as if you're seeking comfort. You're wildly misguided if you think you're going to get it from him— but, then, Unknown doesn't need to tell you that. “Well, anyway. So I thought, why don't I clean the water heater?”

“What water heater?” Unknown has never seen anything like that during his time at Magenta, and he's spent quite a while here.

“It's in the basement,” you wave him off, like it means nothing that you went down there without his permission. “There's this little door, and it's blocked with this cart thing, so I unblocked it, and then there's this tiny room with just this water heater that's like, well, you know, it heats water— anyway, it takes up half the room, and—”

“Did I tell you to go down there?” Unknown tightens his grip on you. If you'd been in the basement at the wrong time, you could have seen something much worse than what would have been on his screen had you stayed by his side. And the fact that you knew enough about the water heater to think of cleaning it suggests that you’ve been down there before and seen it already— he isn’t pleased with this development. Does he really have to keep an eye on you all the time to stop you from causing trouble?

“You said to be useful,” you counter, “And I was being useful.”

Unknown groans. “Then what's the matter?” He has no idea what you saw or who you ran into. The basement is not a pretty place, after all, and you’re quite timid, all things considered. If he wanted you to go down there, then he would have sent you himself. 

“I saw a bug!” You squeal, dramatic as always. “And it was terrifying. Comfort me.” 

It irks him that you think you get to give him orders, but nevertheless, Unknown heaves a sigh of relief. He can't believe he was ever actually that worried over his assistant— as if anyone in paradise would be enough of a fool to lay a hand on you. With the exception of the Savior, nobody around here would even think of trying something like that. And you wouldn't have stalled so long if anything had happened, anyway... you'd have called him to the scene immediately, and Unknown would have dealt with it on the spot. “That's it? You see bugs every day, prince(ss). I’m not going to coddle you every time.” 

“Yes, but this one was technically in my home,” you protest with a shudder, “So it’s at least five times scarier. And it was huge— I think it was some kind of cockroach or something.” 

“Hm.” Unknown considers this information. He doesn’t really follow, but he also doesn’t want to prolong this bug discussion any longer than he has to. It’s better if you just drop it and let him get back to work. 

“Anyway, it ran in front of the water heater as soon as I opened the door,” you complain, “I don’t know how the hell it got in there, or if there’s others, or anything like that—  I just slammed the door and blocked it again, and then ran back here as fast as I could to tell you that there's a bug by the water heater, which I did not clean. For your information.”

Unknown huffs. Honestly, he should have known better than to turn you loose in the first place. Even if he had explicitly told you to avoid the basement, you would have found a way down there anyway. You may be more clever than he originally gave you credit for, but that doesn’t seem to have much bearing on your listening skills, which have proven to be severely lacking.

“That's why we don't go sticking our nose where it doesn't belong,” he purrs, enjoying the way that you retreat entirely into his embrace, pressing your face against his chest. Yes, that's how it should be... you should depend on him, rely on him, revel in the feeling of his attention, his fingers in your hair or his lips against your ear. You should be his, wholly and completely, bending to his whims and changing your shape to fit inside of his grasp. That's the only way. “Just stay with me, assistant. I'll look after you, since you can't figure out how to do it yourself.” If your reaction to a single cockroach was so passionate, he can’t imagine what you would have done if you’d actually encountered something scary— but if he keeps you here, then neither one of you will ever have to find out. 

“Sure,” your soft concession feels like a victory. Unknown just hums in response, returning to his work as you continue to cling to him. He won’t comfort you, of course, but he will allow himself to give you this.

[heretherebedork]

All of your insights on wedding impossible feel so spot on to how I’m also consuming the drama. I haven’t gotten to the press conferences and stuff since I’m only on episode 8, but I’ve seen posts about it and even those frustrated. It just feels insane to me that anyone can think Dohan is the selfish one. I know we’re kind of beating a dead horse and preaching to the choir here but it’s just so baffling. Jihan who tried to get his brother’s fiancee not to marry Dohan so Jihan can build a mall. Jihan who tells Ajeong to her face he doesn’t like her but he’s going to seduce her and she’s not going to be able to resist bc he’s just sooooooo handsome and charming (which gave me a huge ick, how lowly does he think of this 32 year old woman that he assumes she’ll fall for someone who says he doesn’t like her??? But then she does???). Jihan who then does try to seduce HIS BROTHER’S FIANCEE. Jihan who tried to stop another woman from getting married by saying he should’ve hit on her instead (I also feel bad for CEO Chaewon in this show). Jihan who then strings Chaewon along to get things he wants (like breaking up his brother’s marriage that he thinks is real). Jihan who takes zero time to worry about Dohan after he’s outed by a crazy ex before immediately getting angry at Dohan and then again telling Ajeong not to marry him. Jihan who did all of this because he wants money. He’s the selfless one? Why, because he held an umbrella?

The writers are resting on the assumption that viewers will just ignore how awful Jihan is because he’s the male lead and is supposed to be the ideal man we all fall for, so they aren’t putting in any work to actually make him sympathetic. The worst part is it’s apparently working for the vast majority of viewers. You’re also so right that the show keeps telling us Jihan and Dohan are supposed to be close, but doing absolutely nothing to show us that. They might as well be strangers sharing a lease at this point. I had never watched a (het) romance kdrama before this (I always stuck with mystery and thrillers which korea does quite well imo), and I’m not sure I ever will watch one again if this is considered good. Also do we ever find out wtf happened to the ex? It’s been a couple episodes since we saw him all beat up but there’s no indication of what happened. Did they really use a gay bashing to create an evil ex boyfriend who could out Dohan to Jihan and stalk Ajeong for a bit and nothing more?

The ex was so underutilized and basically amounted to nothing except him forcibly outing Do Han to Ji Han to make the plot move. That's really all he does. Well, maybe he does more in the finale. I haven't watched yet. I'm working up to it.

But, yeah. This is my dead horse to beat.

Ji Han was the single most selfish character in the show and anyone who tries to claim otherwise is trying to sell you something.

Or trying to salvage a romance that ended up just generally unpleasant to me because, seriously? The entire romance started with him trying to steal away his supposed fiance and then ended with him getting pissed off about Do Han being gay and supposedly manipulating Ah Jeong and then was him just destroying their supposed sibling relationship.

Which I guess they don't have anymore? Or something?

The show gave us zero closure on that and I hate it so much. Because it's so stupid. Because there was no sibling relationship. None! The show refused to give us anything. Nothing but Ji Han being selfish and Do Han having to feel like the worst person ever for even remotely trying to protect himself.

Ah, but the show isn't going to show any homophobia. Why would they do that?

Instead, the show is just gonna give us nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Not even a goddamn glimpse.

No one seeing this would ever believe these brothers loved each other.

[big-coyote]

hi!! this may be a weird thing to ask about but ive decided to make one of my longtime ocs a coyote therian (they were connected to coyotes since the beginning) and i wanted to ask if theres stuff i should avoid when talking abt them or doing character design?

ive done some research on my own looking thru tumblr blogs ran by therians mostly, but i mightve missed some stuff!

for now they show their theriantophy as either wearing a coyote looking onesie (which is the first outfit they ever had) or when wearing other clothes they have a tail keychain on their trousers, so i also wanted to ask if you know of any other things they could have to connect with their theriotype?

again im sorry if this is a weird question! <3

(1/2) Hello! Not a weird question at all, I’m actually very honored and happy you’ve asked! I have quite a number of OCs myself that are also therians or otherkin adjacent lol. Also if anyone else has any ideas they’d like to add/advice feel free to comment or reblog!

As for things you should ovoid I’d recommend straying away from the idea of therianthropy being inherently because of mental illness. While it’s totally okay for your Oc to struggle with mental health problems or other serious topics. I often see the stigma online where people assume being nonhuman or having a alterhuman identity means the person in question must have Schizophrenia, Dissociative Identity Disorder, psychosis, a delusional disorder, etc. And again while I know plenty of nonhumans who have those disorders (I have some of them) and that may effect their identities as a whole, it shouldn’t be the end all be all of their identity you know? Ovoid adding more stigma to both.

Another thing I’d stray away from is the idea of a character being a therian because of spirit animals or any mythology related to closed practices/groups. I’ve seen many indigenous people online speak about their discomfort with the word ‘spirit animal’ and how it’s been adopted into pop culture. Being alterhuman is much more then “I feel connected to this thing/this thing is just like me”, it runs much deeper then that and it is as much as a real identity as something like gender, sexuality, religion, etc. It should be taken with as much care and seriousness as those other identities because it is huge and important part to a lot of our lives.

Lastly I’d recommend avoiding making the character the butt end of the jokes. While the Oc themselves can be funny, have funny things happen to them or have funny experiences as a coyote Therian I’d ovoid making them the punching bag to other OCs. Online it’s not uncommon to see many people misunderstanding and mischaracterizing being nonhuman for a quick laugh. It be very disheartening if an OCs entire existence in a story is just “haha they think they’re a dog, that’s stupid”. Again it’s important to take any identity like being a Therian seriously instead of just being the punch line for a joke or gag.

As for the clothing I think the onesie would be incredibly cute and good to wear as well as the tail! Many therians wear tails, both real and faux fur ones, to feel connected to their identity and feel more comfortable. I’ve also known many therians who were things like jewelry with their theriotype on it, fake animal ears, t-shirts, rings, fur coats, earrings, pins/buttons, etc. Some also like collecting plushies or posters with their theriotype as well, or having stickers on their books or drawing them. Or if you’d prefer a more casual character design you could have a character who doesn’t wear any outward Therian gear and prefers to keep it low key. Both options are very valid and would be interesting to see!

But no matter what I’m sure your Oc is going to be amazing and I can’t wait to see them! Please tag me if you make any art or stories about them, or if you have any other questions feel free to ask again or DM me!