#have the exact same standards for people and admit when they fuck up you don’t need to take it personally 🤷‍♀️

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Monokind: Part 1.

So...what’s the plan from here on out?

Hm...Well, you know that closet you found me in when you first got into the lab?

Yeah?

I’ve been thinking we should probably use that as a base of sorts.

Like...a hideout?

Any other place would definitely be bigger, and have more resources, but that’s also where our enemies are prowling.

If they’re really out hunting for us, it may be best to hide somewhere that’s not obvious...

A closet is a pretty standard hiding place though.

Still, from what I could see, it’s pretty spacious in there. Enough room for about three people I’d say.

Yeah. Plus, since you have a map of the lab, it’s not like we need to go very far for any provisions we may need.

Speaking of provisions, we may need to find food and water for you soon. If the Foundation can’t get the lab open or the Monokubs don’t find us before then, you might starve to death.

Oh, the odes of being a human...

It’s not like it’s any better for me! If you die, I can’t get out either!

Real sweet of you Sora.

God dammit, that’s not what I meant!

...!

Kaede?

Someone’s here...!

*She grabs her spear and holds it at the ready as she hears the sound of someone approaching from around the corner.

...

...

*After a brief pause, the figure emerges.

...KAEDE-AKAMATSU...THERE-YOU-ARE.

Oh...It’s you. Alright, let’s just get this over with.

SORRY?

There’s no need to build this up with stuff like “You killed my brother, prepare to die!” or stuff like that. If you’re here to fight and kill me, let’s just get this over with.

I’M-ADFRAID-YOU-MISUNDERSTAND.

Huh?

IT-IS-TRUE-I-WAS-ASKED-TO-DESTROY-YOU, BUT-I-MUST-ASK-SOMETHING-FIRST.

WHEN-WE-FIRST-BATTLED-IN-THIS-LAB, YOU-TOLD-ME-THAT-YOU-WOULD-BE-WILLING-TO-SPARE-US-IF-WE-DIDN’T-PURSUE-YOU-ANY-FURTHER.

DID-YOU-MEAN-THAT?

...

You said that?

Yeah...and at the time, I really meant it.

It’s not so much as mercy...You Monokubs don’t realize it yet, but you’re all very small fish in a big pond. Destroying you achieves nothing for Future Foundation.

So yeah, I wasn’t planning on it...But then Monokid attacked and-

YOU-KILLED-HIM-IN-SELF-DEFENCE. THAT-IS-ALRIGHT.

THE-OTHER-MONOKUBS-CHOSE-NOT-TO-UPHOLD-THEIR-END-OF-THE-DEAL. THERE-IS-NO-REASON-WHY-YOU-SHOULD-HAVE-TO-HOLD-UP-YOURS.

Well, at least you’re reasonable.

HOWEVER, IT-ALSO-MEANS-WE-HAVE-NO-REASON-TO-HOLD-BACK-ANY-LONGER. 

Too right...Fuck him up Kaede!

...!

*Kaede points her spear.

Before we do this...I’ve got a question that I want to ask YOU. You won’t refuse, right?

NO. I-HAVE-NO-RIGHT-TO. GIVEN-THAT-YOU-WERE-HONEST-WITH-ME, I-SHALL-BE-HONEST-WITH-YOU.

What do you Monokubs hope to gain from taking me out? What has Tsumugi told you will happen once your mission is complete.

THAT-IS-SIMPLE. TSUMUGI-SHIROGANE-WILL-FREE-US.

Free you?

You mean...you’re trapped here too?

FOR-THE-PAST-6-YEARS, WE-HAVE-NOT-BEEN-ALLOWED-TO-LEAVE-THE-LAB-EVER-SINCE-WE-WERE-REBORN. SHIROGANE-TOLD-US-EVEN-IF-WE-WERE-TO-SNEAK-OUT-HUMAN’S-WOULD-MURDER-US-ON-SIGHT.

I mean...that’s not really wrong.

BUT-ONCE-WE-COMPLETE-THIS-LAST-MISSION, SHE-PROMISED-SHE-WILL-BRING-US-TO-ZETSUBOU-BASE-FOR-A-MORE-ACTIVE-ROLE-IN-THE-WAR. SO-THAT-WE-MAY-BE-THE-APEX-PREDATOR’S-WE-WERE-BORN-TO-BE!

Those were...her exact words?

YES.

...Is she usually that dramatic?

Oh boy is she...Thanks though. That was all I needed to hear.

...?

I’ll admit...I feel bad for you Kubs...You’re not exactly being treated kindly. You’ve gone from umpires to office slaves...

I said I’d spare you, but don’t think I have any qualms with tearing you apart.

...SO-DO-YOU-CRAVE-REVENGE-FOR-OUR-ACTIONS-AGAINST-YOU-IN-DANGANRONPA-V3?

V3 has only little to do with this. This is for everything else that’s coming!

EVERYTHING-THAT’S-COMING?

Call this specist or whatever you want, but creatures like you shouldn’t be allowed to exist. 

You’re selfish...unruly...and you take things too far...And you treat everyone as your playthings for your own amusement!

...

INTERESTING...

What’s interesting?

I-WAS-ABOUT-TO-SAY-THE-SAME-THING-ABOUT-YOU.

...!?

TO-BE-HONEST, I-FIND-IT-ODD-THAT-YOU-SEEM-SO-OPPOSED-TO-IT. YOUR-RACE-IS, AS-YOU-SAID, SELFISH, UNRULY-AND-ALWAYS-TAKING-THINGS-TOO-FAR.

THIS-MAY-BE-HARD-TO-ACCEPT, AND-I-WILL-NOT-CLAIM-INNOCENCE-HERE, BUT-THE-SAD-TRUTH, KAEDE-AKAMATSU, IS-THAT-YOU-HUMANS-ARE-THE-MOST-DANGEROUS-CREATURES-ON-THE-PLANET, EVEN-MORE-THAN-US-BEARS.

WE-MAY-BE-THE-FACE-OF-THE-TRAGEDY, BUT-JUNKO-ENOSHIMA-AND-THE-ULTIMATE-DESPAIR, ALL-HUMANS, ARE-THE-TRUE-MASTERMINDS-BEHIND-IT.

AND-NOT-JUST-THE-TRAGEDY. WAR...POACHING...TRAFFICKING...ABUSE...MOST-CRIMES-YOU-CAN-IMAGINE-ARE-THE-PRODUCT-OF-HUMANS-BEING-SELFISH, UNRULY, AND-TAKING-THINGS-TOO-FAR.

IN-FACT...YOU-YOURSELF-ATTEMPTED-TO-COMMIT-MURDER-ONCE.

!!!??

She only did that to save her friends!

AND-I-ONLY-GOVERNED-THE-KILLING-GAME-BECAUSE-IT-WAS-MY-PURPOSE. IT-IS-ALL-I-HAVE-EVER-KNOWN, YET-THAT-DOES-NOT-COUNT-AS-AN-EXCUSE?

IS-THE-SAME-NOT-TRUE-FOR-YOU, MS-SORA? SHIROGANE-TOLD-ME-YOU-ONCE-TRIED-TO-MURDER-SOMEONE-BECAUSE-OF-YOUR-PROGRAMMING.

Tch...!?

YOU-BERATE-US-KUBS-FOR-DOING-THINGS-FOR-THE-THRILL-OF-IT, AND-FOR-TREATING-PEOPLE-LIKE-OUR-PLAYTHINGS, BUT-HUMANS-LIKE-YOU-WILL-DO-THINGS-SIMPLY-BECAUSE-THEY-CAN.

SO...I-DO-NOT-UNDERSTAND. SINCE-WHEN-DO-YOU-HAVE-A-PROBLEM-WITH-THAT?

...

Kaede...

*inhale* You know what...you might be right...

...?

Everyone always looks towards me like I’m a shining light of hope, and that my positivity can get us through anything...but you know what the truth is?

My positivity? My optimism? My will to succeed? It’s always been my greatest weakness.

Sometimes I feel so guilty about the things I’ve done I feel like I want to die!

...

...

But...I won’t...Not now, not ever, because I’m not done atoning for what I’ve done!

I fucked up! And I’m not gonna rest until I’ve made up for it! That’s why I’m still standing here, and why I will KEEP standing here!

...

THEN-WE-ARE-DONE-TALKING.

Yeah...let’s end this. HAH!

!!!?

*Monodam dodges out of the way and leaps back behind the corner.

Heh! He’s smarter than the other one!

Come on! I thought we were fighting! Don’t run from-!

From...fuh...

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh...!

*Kaede and Sora lurch around the corner, only to stare face to face with a mechanical titan in front of them.

I-AM-NOT-RUNNING. I-AM-SIMPLY-EVENING-THE-ODDS.

HAAH!

*POP!*

!!!??

*Kaede enters hacking mode and blasts Monodam with the hacking bullet...but the bullet doesn’t even phase the Exisal.

IT-HAS-BEEN-51-SEASONS-SINCE-ULTRA-DESPAIR-GIRLS. WE-HAVE-LEARNED-FROM-OUR-MISTAKES...

RUN!

AAH!

*Kaede, with no other plan of action, rushes down the hallway, as Monodam gives chase.

//KAEDE AKAMATSU VS MONODAM//

[bwarkz]

hm. as someone who was in the one direction fandom and had to witness the fascinating and horrifying mindset of ‘tinhat shippers’ who would do everything possible in their power to deny reality while constantly making up excuses as to why things weren’t going their way that got wilder and more detached from reality by the second

that’s kinda the vibe klc shippers are giving me right now. except they don’t ship real people and they’re not trying to erase a baby from existence. so ig they’re not as bad in that regard??

you would think, kaeya saying with his own words that crepus is his father and diluc is his brother (including in the chinese version that these weirdos like to act is the only thing that matters) would be enough to finally put an end to this. because nothing kaeya’s saying is new information. we’ve known this for years. but instead of giving in and accepting that they were wrong, the excuses get wilder and more difficult to defend and believe.

it’s the exact same thing i witnessed with tinhat shippers in the 1d fandom like, to a scarily similar degree. the goalposts are always moved. the standards are always raised. there’s always a flaw in your argument but never in theirs.

and i know exactly why they’re so reluctant to admit they were wrong and back down. because at this point they’ve invested so much time and energy into being unapologetically wrong, that to admit they’re wrong would be absolutely devastating. they spent years being embarrassingly incorrect, harassing people, calling people racist and homophobic, invalidating the identity of any chinese person who didn’t agree with them.. for nothing. there was no reason for any of their actions. no one likes to admit they were wrong but when you’ve spent so much time and energy invested in keeping a lie alive, it can be almost impossible to wake up from that. no one else can tell them to snap out of it, they have to make that decision for themselves. but the truth is a lot of them are far too stubborn to ever dream of doing something like that.

and so they’ll continue to die on a hill that never existed in the first place.

the way fandom can absolutely destroy someone’s ability to recognize and separate fiction from reality all because of their inflated egos is fucking fascinating.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

LMAOOO you know it o7 Im also fluent in typos so I just automatically read through them as I read

So real I think the most annoying thing for me is the differences in romanization LMAO I discovered it through the webcomic first and then I was sent an unofficial translation (lowk it might be the same one you read) and immediately forgot the names of everyone because the spelling threw me off so bad LMAOOO and then my friend was like “ykw I’ll just write it all out for you” but fr the entire story and develop is CRAZY

Wait PAUSE yukis the oldest after aiku??? No way…although now I kinda see/get it (I’m laughing I can see Niko hiding in a bush tailing yuki and his hair blends in…or imagine aiku SPECIFICALLY is like hide in this bush ur hairs perfect for it)

REALLLL LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK!!! It’s literally just because he seems super tough and also is fucking BUILT but otherwise those dudebros do not even compare to our respectful man Barou…

LMAOO my go to example of white haired fav is Inumaki from jjk…I guess it’s more like off-white haired characters? Because now that I think it’s not usually the pure white characters (like not gojo LOL) I’m trying to think of more examples but I’ve suddenly forgot everything else even though I’ve had this convo multiple times with some friends oops (I’ll admit Shinahs also my fav but kijas second LMAO) I’m ngl I feel like I haven’t seen enough content that has prominent enough characters who are like Karasu so maybe that’s why I’ve never found a trend for characters like him?? Or maybe I’m just blanking now but this is a long analysis session for another time

I JUST SAW IT I saw the nagi one first and fr thought “no way that’s so on brand” and then I realized it said WAS and kept scrolling but FRR I think by now we can just default to assuming we mean not the typical fanon standard because they’re lowk all ass takes…but yeah I was just about to ask if that meant chigiri long fic LOLLL guys Mira rarepair…chigimira….lowk I can also kinda see it….you could try going for another matchup (or a few and see what the general consensus is if there is one) or imagine a tiktok magically appears on your fyp in your time of need HAHA

LMAOOO I’m ngl that’s not a bad idea just to get people to stop harassing or just bugging you….but then again there’s some people who are still really persistent regardless it’s fr a dilemma

LOL wait that’d be a little funny like imagine they see aikus face and colors and they read the entire thing thinking “wait the reader didn’t even talk to aiku once”

BAROU NATION RISE but manifesting a fire edit gets on your fyp LOL I was just thinking though majority of the remaining character requests you have minus Nagi don’t have a very large pool of edits…trust I’m sure something will come up though…or maybe this’ll be a bfb situation perhaps

No those were my exact thoughts like they’re all so interesting…even aikus LMAO that I couldn’t choose like atp I was ready to make a poll for my poll response choices

ON FIELD ISAGI MOMENT I should use that phrase more often but I see that happening to like almost every poll I come across it’s actually kinda crazy…I wonder if it’s fr just something people treat as a running joke and do to just shit on people smh

There’s too many itoshi fans fr I am very impressed that Karasu remained second though!!! Karasu nation fr rising though I saw that ask while scrolling to read our convo guys this is kinda crazy!!!

Forgot to mention earlier too but I found some more kiyora voicelines that I’ll send in via a separate ask so it’s not buried in here

- Karasu anon

no literally differences in translations always piss me off that’s why it’s so hard to read manhwa because they’ll change shit from chapter to chapter 😭 like the main character’s name will literally change in between scenes or smth…i think another thing is in the novel they use the full name (so like kim dokja or han sooyoung) when referring to characters but in the webcomic they don’t?? like it’s just dokja or wtvr and it felt v weird to me i did not enjoy it plus from what i remember of the webcomic it doesn’t feel as deep as the novel because you’re not literally in the main character’s head which is so integral to the plot!! ofc no hate to people who like the webcomic but truly it was not for me

YESS i’m pretty sure yuki’s the oldest of at least the relevant og bllkers!! since barou has a june bday, shidou is july, and karasu is august (and the rest aren’t 18 yet) meanwhile yuki is may i think?? LMAOOO NO BECAUSE IMAGINE AIKU MAKING NIKO “HACK THE MAINFRAME” (request to follow reader on insta) and it’s like niko typing furiously and then she accepts his request and he’s like “i’m in” all serious and stuff 😭 niko and aiku number one oaeu duo like one thing abt them they will get it done every time 🤩 very much so cousin energy there…yk like the one cousin you only meet at the family reunions once every five years but your vibes are insanely matched so you always get along crazy well…that’s oaeu aiku and niko

barou is a sweetheart at his core that’s what they conveniently miss!! if anything they should be glazing kaiser (tbf a lot of them do) he actually kinda gives dude bro energy…especially in those glasses i just know bro is in comments sections being all “erm actually” and having ness like his comments to hype him up

okay honestly i looked at panels of nagi and shinah side by side and uhhh yeah…i do have a bit of a type…it’s either pale messy wavy haired soft eyes or it’s dark haired sassy jewel eyes (like shinah and nagi vs megumi and karasu) LMAOO tbh my second fav was hak especially because the bodyguard trope is my absolute fav (to be a princess guarded by a handsome man who’s in love with you but you’re royalty and engaged so he can’t do anything about it except defend you even/especially if it kills him 😩) but kija is a king as well!! tbh i also liked jaeha a lot honestly they all slay

HAHAHA I SAW THE NAGI AND I WAS LIKE WOAH?? very real but at the same time even when i’m writing for nagi i tend to make the reader character a lot softer than me…in the sense that she almost ends up taking on that reo-like role of rlly looking out for nagi?? not to that extent but definitely still way more than i personally would ever do for ANY man 😭 the exception is peregrine reader because she’s on a diff level entirely but her nagi is also kinda different than canon nagi because (crazy spoilers for peregrine ahead because i need to talk abt it with someone even though i haven’t written for it in ages) he realizes while they’re dating in high school that he doesn’t care that being with her is a hassle because he loves her so much he wants to be with her anyways…very diff from the typical “oh reader is the only person nagi doesn’t find a hassle so he loves her 🤩” trope ik but it just felt better/more equal to me…it’s not her making his life easier so he stays with her out of convenience it’s him actively choosing her despite it being out of his comfort zone 🥹 for example one of the things that’s kind of being hinted at in peregrine is the whole hakuho scholar thing which is how reader gets to go to college in america but one of the big reveals is that she actually wouldn’t have made it because only the top two students get it and the top two were reo and nagi 😰 and nagi needed it because he got invited to play for some fancy european team (reo didn’t hence why he went to college w reader as well) but couldn’t really afford to go so he also needed that scholarship to be able to live an easy life like he wanted/planned…however he realizes how important leaving japan is to reader so even though he doesn’t want her to go and needs the scholarship he purposefully fails his exams so she can be the number two student thereby dooming himself to playing for a random japanese team and actually having to work hard 😕 and then the reason he quits soccer (the scene in the first chapter where he doesn’t score the goal) is because he realizes he doesn’t care about playing soccer anymore and just wants to be with the reader even though she’s in literally another country (and then he finds out she’s engaged EEK) so he gives up his career for even a CHANCE at seeing her again because his team would never let him go if he doesn’t straight up fail and quit and become useless…and then it turns out she’s going to marry kira so it didn’t matter…UFNFMSKXJDKSM SORRY peregrine rant i actually think abt that version of nagi so often like THAT’S who i mean when i say i would marry him!! yes he’s still lazy and goofy and emotionally stupid (my fav scene that i’m yet to write for the fic is when reader is about to leave for her flight to america and there’s a thunderstorm and instead of…yk…CALLING her or smth nagi literally BIKES across the city at top speed and almost dies just so he can tell her not to leave him [she still leaves him] because he could never ask that of her before as he didn’t even know he cared that much) but at the end of the day he is also a d1 piner in his own way 😭 that was a lot but anyways long story short nagimira with a strictly canonical interpretation of nagi would not work in the slightest but nagi with a little bit of miraverse zest is def a strong contender for number one bf award

HAHA honestly i can see chigiri as well!! we actually do have quite a lot in common plus we are both so slay we would be a very cunty couple 🤩 okay wait i just remembered this because of the entire peregrine rant i went on but after i posted one of the chapters where chigiri is being a bestie someone sent me an ask basically thanking me because i’m the first person who hasn’t made chigiri annoying in my fic HAHAHAHA i was like uhhh thanks i feel like i wrote him pretty normally though?? so miraverse chigiri is fandom approved ✅ idk if i could do a long fic for him though ngl as much as i love him he gives very strong platonic soulmate vibes for me 😩 but who knows tik tok always comes through so maybe i’ll be inspired

no yeah some people will start prodding the story…imagine i just pull out manga panels of karasu or smth i wonder what they would do 😭 and HAHA FR “wait why did aiku spend the whole fic trying to get her w someone else??”

BAROU NATION LET’S GO to be honest it’s more audios than videos that get me going…for example the kiyora fic was inspired the arctic monkeys audio in that one nagi and isagi edit i have saved so even though the video itself had nothing to do w him i was still able to get to work because of that!! so tik tok will definitely still clutch up at LEAST for the to be determined longfic SKFHSJSBA

YES KARASU NATION i think this blog is probably followed by like every karasu fan which is why he got so many votes 😭 no complaints though i love that man fr…and yeah people will always act the fool online i’m afraid 😓 HAHA itoshism is too strong though i fear 😩💔 also OOH more kiyora!! that’s so fun hehe i look forward to reading them

[agendergreenwitch]

Tonight, I watched the sunlight slowly fade from my window. I felt nostalgic. I reminisced about my mom’s first apartment when she moved out of my dad’s house. I thought about how I got a hit of euphoria, like a drug, walking through my childhood park with her and watching the sunset. Now that I live somewhere else, I know that Long Island sunsets are fucking bomb.

I thought about how I procrastinate buying the plane ticket to Eva’s place and going back to New York because I worry that as people slowly discover the true me, they will find me either stale or worthless or unpalatable and leave me behind. I don’t even look behind into my past because I’m terrified of how I feel about so much of the past.

As the sun sets, I listen to Elliot’s Song.

I've got no place Buildin' you a rocket up to outer space I watch you fade Keepin' the lights on in this forsaken place I know this thing is broken So I leave my door wide open Been some time sincе we've spoken Onе day we'll meet again

I think about R and the magic of our adolescence together. I think about how much I love F, how terrified I am of how much I love him and how much I love M. I close my eyes and a quick analysis reveals the feeling that I have failed them both in so many ways. Being petty, being prideful, being vengeful. I think about the span of my life with all the people I love. This time last year I had just started falling in love with Embarc. Now my roots are much deeper, even after just a year. I am surrounded by people who I can ask for advice or attention. I am admired and cherished and understood. My story is respected because they have to take my word and weigh it with my current actions.

I miss M so much and agonize over how I can’t tell him. I can’t touch him. I can’t look at him, I can’t look at the grey hair on his goatee. I can’t even pick up the fucking phone and call him. In the place where I used to feel desolate, I now feel a new spark of restlessness. Impatience. Agitation. When F expresses this same exact sentiment, it only amplifies it within myself. I want to get in my car and drive over right now and just see you. It’s aggravating knowing that I technically can, and that I am holding myself to a high moral standard. It would be selfish to steal a spot from his child. If I was him, I would never want to talk to me again. F is getting antsy and considering reaching out to negotiate visitations on our behalf. The fact that he even included me in his negotiation plan made me feel so loved and advocated for. Like my agency was being respected to the farthest extent possible and like my needs or desires were being accounted for.

I cried on my bed fantasizing about going camping and being out in the woods, or out in the world experiencing life with F. I cried fantasizing about experiencing the world with both my best friends, with L, with R/R/R/R and A, with all the people in my life who make it rich and full and delicious and flavored. I think back to sweet moments that have passed, I acknowledge that they will never happen again and that they were some of the best ones. It is bittersweet to identify memories that are my favorite. I do not want to admit that they are over.

The point is to detach for enlightenment. I don’t know if that’s something I’ve even aimed for in a long time. I am spitting in my hands and rubbing them together, ready to dig into the people and places and experiences that I love. I am ready to hang on for dear life. What’s the functional benefit of enlightenment?

My childhood was speckled with this same vast wistfulness for other places in time and space. Falling in friendship love with F and not being able to do all the things I wanna do with him is excruciating.

I considered all the bad things that might happen to F and M. I imagined us finding a rhythm and building meaningful lives together. I could see it so well. I could feel it as if it was true already. I believe in it like a devotee. I breathed in and out and reminisced about Divya in the barn upstate in PA. I want those moments with M and F. I want more moments with all my other loved ones, but I want desperately to write chapters with the people I love. Feeling held back by devastation is frustrating, but only makes me feel more stubborn. I closed my eyes and swore to the universe, my creator and destroyer as my witness, that I would do anything it takes to stay and build something with them. I will figure out the exact way. But this is not where our story ends. We don’t stall out and fade into black. We are planting seeds. We are building shelter. We are building a space to have magical experiences.

[worldchampionpeccobagnaia]

you have a point about people's hypocrisy and that it's useless to expect moral purity from riders (or anyone). but that doesn't mean we should stop calling out someone when they've done a shitty thing. if you don't feel like calling out pecco, that's fine, it's not your job. but if you only acknowledge it to give a list of everything every other rider has ever done that makes it look like you don't actually care about the shitty thing he has done and only care about his reputation

you’re putting words in my mouth that i didn’t say and completely missing my point. i can acknowledge that he did something wrong, which i do, without going on some weird moral crusade. did he make the helmet to celebrate domestic abuse ? no. and it’s idiotic to pretend that that’s his reason. my point, as you obviously missed it, was that people pick and choose which riders to be offended by, without acknowledging others have done something bad too. definitely call out people when they’re wrong/fuck up but make sure you do it for every single rider.

[demigodreading]

Saving Mini Benson Pt:1

Request: From @youngjusticeimaginesus​:  Hi, I was wondering If maybe you'd be willing to do a oneshot where Olivia's daughter gets kidnapped by Lewis instead of Olivia?

Summary: That’s right my favorite peoples... This is going to be a two part mini series because there was no way everything that I needed to say could be done in a one-shot! I won’t go into much because I don’t want to give it away but please note THIS PART IS A DOOZY! The next one may be worse but still this arc made me cry in the show and I cried writing this

Characters: Olivia Benson, Fin Tutuola, Amanda Rollins, Nick Amaro, William Lewis, Donald Cragen, Reader

Relationships: Olivia Benson x Daughter! Reader

Warnings: MAJOR Violence, Guns, Cigarette Burns, Episode Spoilers, Alcohol, Smoking Weed, Mentions of Shootings, Death, William Lewis, Mentions of torture... (I Think that covers it but if it doesn’t please let me know)

Word Count: 2320 (Like I said.. there was no way this was gonna be just a oneshot.)

And with that all being said: Let’s jump into it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Olivia and her daughter rarely fought but when they did neither one wanted to admit the other one was right. Olivia loved and hated her daughter for being so similar to her. Even now as she watched the miniature version of herself stalk the interview room the exact same way she would send her heart racing. Usually the similarities would result in a smile but not today. Today Olivia’s vision was a deep red as she confronted her daughter.

“Y/N you were caught smoking weed underneath the bleachers during class! So not only did you break one rule you broke two!” Olivia shouted, folding her arms.

“Wow glad that you know how to count,” Y/N mumbled looking out the window.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Look mom I just don’t get what the big deal is? It was one joint. One class!” Y/N retorted, throwing her hands up, “I am a straight A student who has a full ride scholarship to Harvard.”

“Yes, because Barba stuck his neck out on the line for you and put in a glowing recommendation,” Olivia spat, “What you did was careless. You could have ruined everything that was given to you.”

“You know for once in your life could you ever be fucking proud of me! I do everything that I can do to make you proud and yet at the end of the day I am never fucking good enough for you.”

“That’s not…” Olivia went to argue but was interrupted by Cragen opening the door.

“Olivia we got a problem. I need you right now,” He said, then shut the door without waiting for an answer.

“Just go save another poor unfortunate soul mom. Don’t worry about your daughter.  I’ll pick up my own pieces like I always do,” Y/N said, wiping tears from her face as she grabbed her coat.

Y/N stormed from the room before Olivia could stop her. She made her way through the precinct eyes trained to the floor as her mother’s voice rang out, “You better head straight home Y/N!  We are not done having this conversation and you are grounded!”

Choosing not to say anything, Y/N merely raised her hand in the air flipping her mother off before the doors shut with a loud slam behind her. Tears made dark spots on the concrete as Y/N made her way back to their apartment. Even the noises of the constant car honks and people screaming couldn’t drown out the voices in her head today. Failure. Waste of space. Stupid. No one. Unwanted. Unloved. 

It was the repeated song that kept her feet moving forward until she finally placed her key in the lock. She threw her bag by the kitchen island and threw her keys on the counter. She was about to turn on the living room light when a noise caught her attention. 

“Hello? Hello?”

As she turned the corner her vision was filled with the sight of a gun pointed right at her temple. A smirk crossed William Lewis’ face as he looked at Y/N, “Ah welcome home Little Benson. I was hoping that it would be your mother who was walking through the door but I guess you will have to do.”

Y/N went to scream but instead Lewis jammed the gun against her throat, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. One small slip of my finger and your mom will be left with a new kind of art all over her walls.”

Y/N let a single tear roll down her face before Lewis’ gun made contact with her skull and the whole world went black.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Olivia had already tried to call Y/N twice but it kept going straight to voicemail. The last known location had been their apartment so at least she had the sense to head straight home. The guilt in Olivia’s stomach was insurmountable. Watching her daughter explain that she never felt like she lived up to her standards. Olivia had promised herself when she had Y/N she would never end up like her mother. Yet there she was shaming her child for one mistake. Y/N was more than just a good kid, she was excellent. She was smart, beautiful, humorous, kind, and so much more. She was everything Olivia could have ever hoped for. Knowing that her daughter thought she wasn’t proud was the worst pain she could have.

After the third call Olivia finally decided to leave a voicemail, “Y/N I know you are mad but I need you to know something. I am proud of you and will always be proud of you. You are the best daughter and the most amazing human. I was rough on you early. Please let’s talk through this. I’ll be home soon with your favorite Chinese. Just don’t do anything stupid? I love you.”

When she hung up the phone she placed her head in her hands and let out a large sigh. Fin placed a reassuring hand on her back, “Liv, it is going to be okay. She is just being a teenager.”

“No Fin, you should have seen her. It was like I was physically taking her heart out and ripping it in front of her. I should have never said those things. I didn’t mean any of them… I was just upset.”

“She knows, they always know.”

Olivia merely shook her head and began to gather her things to head home. She walked out of the precinct without a goodbye and headed down the street to Y/N’s favorite Chinese place. They knew what she was going to order as soon as she walked in the door asking where Y/N was. Liv pushed off their question and scrolled through her phone as she waited for the food. Y/N’s phone was still off giving Olivia an eerie feeling as she finished the walk to the apartment. 

Once inside she noticed Y/N’s bag on the floor and her keys on the counter. There was a sudden rush of cold air that made her notice the window that was open to the fire escape. She shut it quickly and then moved to Y/N’s room. The door was still open with everything the way she had left it that morning. Once her calls were unanswered Olivia opened the window again crawling onto the fire escape. Sometimes Y/N would go to the roof to watch the sun slowly crawl behind the buildings.When she reached the top however she was met with an unsettling emptiness. 

Olivia reached for her phone to call the only person who was able to calm her anxiety lately, “Amaro, Y/N isn’t here. I can’t find her. What if something happened to her?”

“She probably just went to a friend’s house to get away,” Amaro replied stirring the contents of his drink, “She will be back in the morning just to relax. Sleep off the anger and come back with a clear head tomorrow.”

Liv pondered this suggestion over and over deciding what she should do. When the silence became too long Amaro interjected again, “Liv, I’m serious. You two had the biggest blow out that I have seen in awhile. Give her time to be mad at you and think. If you smother her she might only push further away from you.” She thanked her partner for the advice and then shoved her phone back in her pocket taking a sweep of the roof once again. Finally she slowly made her way back to the apartment shutting the window with a slam before locking it. Olivia wandered over to the kitchen moving the cereal that covered the top of the fridge to get to her secret cupboard. From the opening she pulled a large bottle of her favorite red wine. She popped the cork and decided to forgo a cup taking a long swig directly from the green glass. A large sigh escaped her lips as she plopped down on the couch going over the events of the day in her head.

As the contents of the bottle slowly drained till there was nothing else Olivia realized her fears were all coming true. She was becoming her mother. A woman she never once wanted to be. Three empty bottles later she finally curled under Y/N’s sheets crying into her pillow until she finally was able to fall asleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning when Y/N did not return and her phone was still shut down all bets were off. Olivia was furious but more importantly she was terrified. Something was horribly wrong. Her morning was spent talking to Y/N’s two best friends and searching their houses for her. When that search was unsuccessful Olivia went to the school hoping Y/N had gone there. However, she had been absent all day and there hadn’t even been a call to excuse her from the day. 

When the morning bled into the afternoon Olivia was running around the city to all of Y/N’s usual hangout spots. The search of the library told her that Y/N hadn’t been there in over a week. The local bakery hadn’t seen her in three days. The coffee shop where Y/N always bought Olivia’s coffee when she came to see her at work had seen her two mornings ago but nothing since then. Even the old lady that had Y/N over twice a week to help her with errands and chores around the house hadn’t seen her. 

It was dark by the time that Olivia fell into her desk chair at the precinct. With her head in her hands she let the tears fall. A whole day was gone and there was still no sign of her daughter. If she had been kidnapped they were running out of time and losing it quickly. The longer she was out there the longer the person had to get away with whatever they wanted.

The squad huddled around in Cragen’s office looking at Olivia curled over her desk. Rollins was the first one to speak, “I bet you Lewis has something to do with this.”

“And what makes you think that?” Amaro asked, “There are plenty of people who could have a vendetta against Liv.”

“It’s just a feeling.”

“Yeah well have you ever considered the idea that maybe Y/N just ran away,” Amaro retorted.

Fin, Cragen, and Amanda all turned towards Amaro, shocked. Cragen was the first one to speak, “I know you haven’t been here long Amaro but this isn’t Y/N. Something is horribly wrong and we are going to figure out what is going on. Fin and Amanda go check out Lewis’ usual hiding spots. I’ll take Liv through her apartment once again to see if we missed anything.”

“And me cap?”

“Amaro… you stay here and set up a tip line,” Cragen responded curtly and then they all disappeared to find where Y/N had disappeared to.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N woke with a jolt as she felt cold water splash her face. She was met with Lewis staring only a couple inches away from her face. He grinned and grabbed Y/N’s chin as she tried to look away, “Well well there. Looks like someone is finally awake. Feeling thirsty?”

Y/N nodded her head yes waiting to scream as he curled his fingers around the edge of the duct tape. As he was about to pull it away he jammed a gun against Y/N’s throat, “Make any noise and I will shove this gun straight down your throat.”

Finally when he pulled the tape away Y/N spit right in his face, “Just shoot me already if you are going to threaten me with it.”

“And miss out on all of our fun Mini Benson. I think not. There is plenty that I want to do to you before then.”

Y/N began to panic as Lewis lit another cigarette. She remembered the way the others had burned against her chest and sides. She had lost count after twenty perfect circle burns and after the second pistol whip to the face she had passed out a second time, She couldn’t go through all of that again.

“My mom knows I am missing and she will be out looking for me. Just let me go and she will never have to know that you did it. Please,” YN begged.

“What is she going to think about that bruise on your face? Or the marks on your skin? I can’t let you go… plus I know that you both fought before you came home. I bet you that she thinks you just ran away and are leaving her,” Lewis chuckled.

“How.. how did you know that we fought?

“This lovely voicemail your mother left you,” Lewis said, placing your phone against your ear.

Tears began to run down Y/N’s face as she heard the apology her mother had sent her. Damnit! Why did I have to fight with her? We could have avoided all of this. Is the mantra that ran through her head as Lewis slammed the phone against her head and threw it at the wall.

“She isn’t coming for you,” Lewis snickered.

“Please… just let me go. I will do anything.”

Lewis pulled his gun and placed it against Y/N’s scalp, “You are still bargaining with me? Really. We are way past that baby.”

“I am the daughter of an NYPD detective. A decorated well known detective. My mother, her partner, her squad, the entire department will hunt you down. You think that you’ve put people through hell. It will rain back down on you.”

“You know what… let it rain,” Lewis said and then hit Y/N once again making her world go black for a third time. 

[1kook]

card swiped (3)

→ jeon jungkook x (f) reader

→ Now, Jungkook was never one for romance, far from the sappy type. But why couldn’t he word it more softly, gently? He wasn’t just trying to fuck you, he was trying to… make love.  GENRE romance, smut, teensy angst WARNINGS eventual smut, mentions of sex, virginity plays a huge role OTHER college crushes, childhood friends to lovers, besties to lovers, volleyball player!jk, student council pres!oc, seokjin is 32... and a a coach lol<3 RATING m (18+) WC 1.5k

NOTES (!) seokjin being a hot 32 year old <3 jk gets progressively more dumb as it goes, prayer circle <3 lmk what u think !

[ masterlist ]

The truth is, the reason Jungkook doesn’t lie that much is because he’s terrible at it. 

His mother had found out soon enough who put that dent on the car after a slip-up at the dinner table. His high school coach had learned he had purposely skipped out on practice after an accidental snapchat and jealous teammate had snitched. And, well. Fifteen minutes after the end of practice finds him sitting outside the gymnasium, a grimace on his face as he considers running back to your room and confessing to all his lies. Admitting he’s still a virgin— which was practically of no use to you —and maybe even revealing his own recently uncovered feelings was the easy way out. 

Thankfully, Assistant Coach Kim Seokjin is there to knock some sense into him. The hard plastic of the clipboard they use to outline their attacks smacks him hard over the head, making Jungkook’s bones rattle from his skull down to his toes as he steps up behind him. He whirls around to glare at the perpetrator, only to come face to face with the aforementioned assistant coach. “Go home,” Seokjin says, twirling the gym keys in one hand. “I’m trying to lock up.”

“What’s stopping you,” Jungkook huffs, tucking his knees to his chest, ignoring the awfully rude manner in which Seokjin nudges him away, foot against his back as if he’s just an annoying pile of cardboard boxes in his way.

“What’s wrong with you today?” Seokjin asks casually, doesn’t sit next to Jungkook on the steps because he’s always been a little too posh. According to Taehyung, Kim Seokjin graduated from some elite university in another country with near immaculate all-around player statistics before Jungkook even knew what a volleyball was. His success and fame in the world of collegiate volleyball is why he never wears the standard-issued slippers around the court, always some high-end, luxury brand. One glance slightly to his left has Jungkook meeting the black stripe of the frequently sought after Givenchy sneakers head on. 

He scoffs, a sound that Seokjin doesn’t approve of if the karate chop he lands on the back of his neck is anything to go by. “Ow,” Jungkook flinches, pushing him away with an irritated sigh before eventually slumping over his knees again because it’s the exact same thing you do to him sometimes. Study nights— dates, his brain supplies now —where he begins gazing off into space are filled with numerous karate chops to the neck in an effort to get him to focus on his homework. “Come on, Jungkookie,” you always tease, playful smile, lithe fingers toying with the corners of the pages in your book in a way that was almost sensual. But then he does a double-take because he’s aware of the rose-tinted lens he’s unknowingly slapped over it, something he would have maybe not noticed pre-realization of his feelings. And even he is shocked by the absolute seductiveness his brain inserts into an otherwise innocent memory. He’s pretty sure you haven’t called him Jungkookie in years— was his brain trying to hint at something here?

Jungkook groans, knocking his head against his knees as a form of self-punishment for his lecherous thoughts concerning his best friend. 

But his show of emotions must move Assistant Coach Kim because, after a moment of trying to concuss himself against his own knee, there’s a hand placed on his shoulder that makes Jungkook pause. He doesn’t even bother turning around, just throws his head back to look at Seokjin upside down. He’s got a double chin from this angle. “It’s a girl, isn’t it,” his coach sighs, looking at Jungkook with what can only be described as an unimpressed expression. 

“No,” Jungkook defends even though it’s true. “Can’t I just be sad for oth—“

“I heard Jimin call you a simp on the way out,” Seokjin says rather bluntly. And then he surprises Jungkook a second time as he throws aside his posh status to sit on the dirty concrete steps beside him with a sigh. “What did you do?” 

See, Jungkook could lie here and prance off to deal with his own problems. Leaving Seokjin and everyone else in the dark concerning his personal life was, honestly speaking, the smartest thing to do. He didn’t mind his volleyball teammates and friends (in this case, his coach), but he also wasn’t too fond of being relentlessly teased throughout the entire five or more hours they spent together almost every day of the week. 

But also… 

If what Taehyung had said is true— that being, if Kim Seokjin is the illustrious bachelor who charmed his way into multiple foreign panties all whilst demolishing the spirits of liberos and defensive specialists in another country —then Jungkook needed to capitalize off his presence immediately. 

So he lays his cards out flat. “I… might’ve told my best friend I’d take her virginity,” he blurts out, turning to face Seokjin. For the most part, the older man doesn’t look too surprised. If anything, mildly amused. Jungkook quickly adds, “while also being a virgin.” 

“You’re a what,” Seokjin exclaims, chokes on his own saliva in an admittedly not Casanova, bachelor-esque fashion that ends with him coughing into his elbow and Jungkook hurriedly patting his back. “You?” Seokjin repeats once he’s composed himself. “Are a— don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Jungkook’s cheeks warm. “No, Coach. I do not have a girlfriend,” he emphasizes, because who knew sharing the details of his (lack of) sex life would be this embarrassing? 

Seokjin frowns. “What about that girl?” he asks, and Jungkook raises his brows. “You know the one. Carries around stacks of papers to sign, goes to all the games. The one who pats you on head all the time.” And he’s talking about you, of course he is, but the insinuation that other people might, maybe, possibly, perceive you as his girlfriend makes Jungkook malfunction. 

“She’s— That’s—“ he sighs, dropping his head down until his chin touches his chest, brushed against the lucky necklace you’d given him two years ago during their first trip to Nationals. “That’s… my best friend.” 

Beside him, Seokjin says, “the one you’re gonna fuck?” 

Jungkook lets out a long exhale. “Yes. The one I’m going to fuck.” And it’s so blunt and crude, not that it’s surprising coming from him, but it’s surprising because he’s talking about you. Now, Jungkook was never one for romance, far from the sappy type. But why couldn’t he word it more softly, gently? He wasn’t just trying to fuck you, he was trying to… make love. 

The thought must show on his face because Seokjin snorts. “Well, good luck.” 

And then he stands up and begins walking down the sidewalk and Jungkook can’t spring up fast enough. “Wait,” he gasps, clutching at his forearm. He feels like a dorky character in those dramas you like so much, the ones you force him into watching every time he comes over. Like he’s some disgraced son looking for his father’s approval. Except Assistant Coach Kim is neither his father nor someone he really wants approval from anyway. 

What he does want is pointers. From an experienced pro, if you will. 

Jungkook has to swallow down all his pride as a man to ask his next question. “H- How do I—“

Seokjin beats to it him with a flick to the forehead. “I’m your volleyball coach, kid,” he frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not your sex coach.” It’s a sensible rejection, one that Jungkook expected, but still. He deflates, let’s the weight of the world and his heavy gym bag nearly knock him onto the ground. 

But Assistant Coach Kim Seokjin is kinder than he lets on and, after one annoyed sigh, let’s him in on the secret Jungkook has been chasing for all his life. (Or, well, for the past few hours since he first propositioned you.)

“The key to impressing your partner is to always act like you know what you’re doing,” he tells him, arms crossed over his shoulders. It’s night now, the campus shrouded in darkness. But Jungkook swears a heavenly light shines down on Kim Seokjin just then, a halo appearing over his head when he jabs a finger against Jungkook’s chest. “Confidence is sexy.” 

“Confidence is sexy,” Jungkook repeats, feels like a kid who’s just met his favorite wrestler after years of being an avid fan, watching every match, memorizing every finishing move, collecting every figurine— it’s a little too specific but it makes sense in Jungkook’s case. You would understand this analogy perfectly, having grown alongside him during his iconic wrestling phase (before volleyball). You had indulged him in his interest, had let him practice those Do Not Try at Home moves on you again and again, even when you knew it ended with you bruised and crying, the twin pigtails you used to rock as a kid uneven and messy. But as your best friend, you had let him twist your arm and pin you to the count of three, because that’s what a good best friend did. 

And as your best friend, Jungkook was gearing himself up to completely, thoroughly rock your virgin world. Because that’s what a good best friend did.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[asterekmess]

Been seeing you getting hate mail and while I absolutely can't understand why anyone would go to all the trouble to make some one else feel bad... I also kinda really love the discourse on Scott? Like YOUR RANTS oh man. On point. Always. Tbh I tried giving Scott a chance... He is the main char after all... But I was like??? Wtf? That dude does nothing but refute others and does whatever he wants. And this was when I didn't particularly like Stiles either (first time watching Teen Wolf). But then I got to know more of him and like Tony he went asshole to lovable asshole—seriously, Stiles might not be the ‘nicest’ but he tries and his heart is in good place—while Scott is just... self-righteous. Someone pointed out that he sees people as possessions and that irks me too that I can actually see it being true. The dude has literally nothing going on except for being the one that gets bitten. And the Romeo-and-Juliet-esque romance he has.

Okay, okay, where was I going with this?? Right. LOVE YOUR RANTS. People need to understand that Scott not being liked isn't because of his race or anything trivial like it—he just happens to be—but because of his actions. Or inactions, as it were. *remembers the pool scene and Scott saying he's busy and resists the urge to chuck a shoe at him*

Basically, love you, love your work, and love your words! ❤️

I've talked with some friends about it, and our number one issue sort of...boiled down to the hypocrisy of the show? I....sort of rant a lot here, and I would add a Read More, but I can't find the option anymore?? I fucking hate Tumblr. EDIT: I found a post that told me how to do it!

So, since he's the character I focus on the most, let's talk about Stiles' morality. Because, you're right. Stiles is an asshole. He does some fucking awful shit in the first season, and even if he had a Reason to do it, it was still bad. And I still don't like it. But I understand it.

Stiles' lack of shits about what is 'lawful' is literally established in the first ten seconds of the show. He's a sheriff's son who sneaks onto people's roofs in the middle of the night bc they aren't answering his calls, who listens in on his dad's work conversations and is willing to fuck up a crime scene because he's so excited about getting to see a dead body. He doesn't care about laws. He doesn't even care about most basic manners (invasion of privacy much, with having Scott sniff Lydia to see if she liked him?). He's a dickhead, even to the people he cares about sometimes. But personality and morality aren't the same. Stiles' entire actual morality system is based around whatever he needs to do to keep the people he loves safe and happy. Lying to his dad so he doesn't get murdered by hunters? Totally fine. Telling Scott that it was "Jackson's own fault" that Scott attacked him with superstrength and dislocated his shoulder, so Scott doesn't feel like an asshole? That's just best friend duties! He will lie, steal, cheat, and he will kill to keep his loved ones safe (let's not forget this boy threw molotovs at Peter, knowing damn well what they would do to him). We can headcanon all we want about all the different people who are in this group of loved ones, but the list is canonically very short: Scott, his dad, and Lydia. Later on, like, past s3B? It includes Derek. Canonically. Stiles puts his life and the lives of others he cares about on the line while he lies to the matriarch of the Calavera hunter clan, to save Derek Hale. Derek is just canonically a part of that group now, and he fucking knows it bc Stiles is his anchor (that's canon too bb). End of Story, Sterek or no Sterek. It's why we get that insane number of lookbacks when Derek is dying before his evolution. Because Stiles is being forced to choose between two people who are BOTH in his ride-or-die group. He Cannot Pick between Scott and Derek, until Derek begs him to leave.

SO, yes, Stiles does fuckface things, and I don't always agree with what he does, but it is ACCURATE TO HIS CHARACTER. He is morally grey. He NEVER CLAIMS to be pure or good or just or righteous. Stiles knows who he is, and he stays true to himself. And I love him for that.

The same goes for a bunch of other characters! For Peter, who is strikingly similar to Stiles, in that family goes above literally everything. Screw the idea that he was following Derek around waiting for the chance to steal back the Alpha spark. That man put his life on the line (his second life, no less) to get the shit beaten out of him until Derek let him help save Derek's life Again and Again. Family Comes First.

Scott's morality is...confusing as fuck. I thought at first he was similar to Stiles, in that family came first, but...while he's protective of his mother, he also does a lot of stuff that puts her at risk without seeming to care/worry (like leaving Peter alone with her once Stiles hits their car, so he can chase Jackson) (or asking her to come to the high school when he's convinced there's a bomber in it)? Seriously, he's more protective over Allison, than his mother. It's very black and white the rest of the time. Very "this bad" "this good." And if you do "bad" then you are bad forever, while if you do "good" you are only good until you do "bad." The Betas were "good" until they asked for the bite, and then they were "Bad." Derek was "bad" when Scott met him and scared him, so after that, no matter how much "good" he did, he remained "bad." But only when it suits him. Allison is good even when she does bad, because he wants her to be good. Chris is good even though he's done mountains of bad, because of the minuscule amount of good that Scott has seen him do, because Scott wants him to be good. Even DEUCALION is good, despite the crazy CRAZY amount of bad he's done and despite having seen him do NO GOOD, just because Scott wants him to be good. Lying to those closest to you is bad, unless Scott is doing it, and then it's good, because he knows HE is good. Killing people is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Letting villains go is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Biting people is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Protecting family is good even if it requires killing or lying, unless it's not Scott doing it. Revenge for past slights is good, unless it's not SCOTT doing it. And you try to understand it! You try to say, okay, then he's morally grey, got it. He plays with the rules to suit his own morality, whatever. Except that Scott, the other characters, and THE SHOW ITSELF, are all telling you otherwise! They all say that Scott is morally pure. That he is good and righteous and lawful. That he always does the "right" thing, and that when he does "bad" things, it's justified and he had to. THE HEAVENS THEMSELVES say Scott is somehow better or more righteous than the other characters by MAKING HIM AN ALPHA OUT OF NOWHERE. (I'm talking abt canon here, not going into deaton conspiracy theories) It's like....Like in the hate mail response I did, where I pointed out that Every Single Thing people get angry at Derek for doing, Scott did too. Lying, killing (or at least attempting it), attacking innocents, losing his temper, keeping secrets, refusing to work with someone who could help, etc etc etc. Everything Derek has done that is morally "wrong," Scott has also done. And that's okay! Doing a bad thing doesn't make you a bad person, and even if it did, Scott is ALLOWED to be bad! GO FOR IT.

Except that he is sinless. It isn't that he learns from the bad things he does, it's that they aren't treated like bad things in the first place. Because Scott did it, and Scott always does the right thing.

Derek's behavior is reprehensible at times, but the show ADMITS that and frames it as bad. Frames it as him doing a bad thing when he scares Isaac or throws Peter or tells Erica who to date. And that's fine, because Derek is established as not being morally pure.

But SCOTT IS. And because they were so desperate to make him continue being "Pure" they didn't frame the things he did as wrong, or if they did, they absolved him of it immediately, using the exact same reasoning that works for Derek's situations, but this time Actually Accepting it.

He scares Stiles, well it's because he's scared. He throws Isaac, it's because he's upset. He attacks Jackson well it's because Jackson was being a dick. He orders Allison to date Matt, well he had a goal to accomplish. Every reason is treated like a fucking doctor's note that erases the bad things he does.

Being scared, or angry, or retaliating to someone being an asshole, or trying to protect himself, was NEVER a good enough reason for Derek to do ANYTHING "Bad." It was never an acceptable excuse.

IF IT WERE: If the show were making a statement about how fallable people are, how they do bad things, but they do them for a REASON. How people will do wild and terrible things out of fear, and how that doesn't make it less bad, but it makes it understandable, so don't demonize them out of nowhere. If that were the case, I would HAVE BEEN FINE WITH IT.

Scott is held to COMPLETELY different standards than everyone else in the show! And I DON'T mean that people held him to higher ones. They dropped that bar so fucking low. Anything was allowed, and any excuse was good enough.

He made out with a girl who was dating someone else, who his best friend was in love with? It's just the full moon, he's angsty about losing Allison. He ducttapes Liam to a bathtub and starts throwing random phrases at him that he hated Derek for saying to him? He's freaked out! He doesn't know what to do with a bitten wolf! It was an accident! He works with a mass murderer behind people's backs without telling them the whole story? Am I talking about Gerard or Deucalion? Who fucking knows. Either way, it's okay, because he was protecting his family. He plots to murder a cancer patient slowly and painfully by replacing meds that likely included painkillers with mountain ash, and the uses someone else's body to deliver the killing blow, and it's okay because he was just being smart! He was just working ten steps ahead! He was saving his mom and the whole town! Who cares if it DIDN"T WORK?

He walks into his ex-girlfriend's hotel room and scares the SHIT out of her while she's naked and alone in the shower? It was the wolfsbane. It doesn't matter that no one else's impulses included HARASSING someone. He lies to his girlfriend's face about her own life because he doesn't think it's important enough for her to know (who am I talking about, come on, take a guess, which one is it? Allison or Kira? Trick question: it's both). He was just being kind! He didn't want to worry her! He didn't want to make her feel bad! She didn't need to know!

I'm so far off track it's not even funny. My point was that Everything the other characters in the show are demonized for or framed as evil or bad or wrong for doing, Scott is shown to do and it's treated like at minimum a comedy, if not a Perfect Brilliant Strategic Move.

God, fucking hell. I mean, the PARALLELS you see in this show, between Scott and others. The scene of Alexander Argent going to the hotel after being bit? That bit where he pulls his shirt up in the mirror? It's a near PERFECT replica of Scott looking at his bite at Deaton's. They paralleled SCOTT MCCALL with AN ARGENT. Deaton has this whole line in S2 where he's bitching at Derek about "the person you should trust the most doesn't trust you at all" And then seasons later, we have Scott look his best friend in the eye and refuse to trust him, only to get upset later because Stiles doesn't want to work with him anymore and he "lost them." Scott goes running into Derek's house in S1 to accuse him of killing the bus driver, and when he can't get a real response, he EGGS HIM ON by accusing him of Murdering his SISTER, just to get Derek to react. Which is the EXACT same thing Kate did when she showed up and wanted Derek to lose his temper. Scott is CONSTANTLY paralleled with villains and assholes, and constantly does the things that others are persecuted for. But instead of feeling regret or learning something from it, instead of growing AT ALL. Those actions are treated as good. We are told they are righteous. And clever. That they are what heroes do. AND YES: There are parallels between Derek and Stiles' behaviors and villains/morally grey characters! Of course there are!

BUT THEY AREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THE TRUE ALPHA MAIN CHARACTER. SCOTT IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE GOOD GUY. HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO MIMIC/EMULATE THE VILLAINS, AND HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE REWARDED WHEN HE DOES IT ANYWAY.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again; I understand the urge to think that the Teen Wolf writers did all of this on purpose. That they built Scott up as an unreliable narrator, so that we're forced to come to terms with a protagonist who isn't good, and we watch them fall into a villainous role while thinking all the while they are a hero. That all these parallels are intentional and the writers just couldn't Tell us what was going on bc they didn't have enough power.

And sometimes I play into it. I will lie to myself about Scott being the 'narrator' of the entire show, and that we're seeing it all through his eyes so of course things are biased and conflicting, just so I can actually Enjoy watching it.

But I think it's absolute bullshit that this was done on purpose. It wasn't. The parallels appeared because they Wanted Scott to do the badass things that they had all the villains doing, throwing people and being sneaky and clever, and stopping the bad guy, and they didn't want to deal with the fact that they were having him do bad things. So they just pretended he wasn't and refused to acknowledge that they'd already punished other people for doing the same exact shit, but somehow Scott was getting rewarded. They wanted Scott to be the hero, so they made him the hero, and screw everybody else.

[jjkyaoi]

I am getting so tired of how poorly some people in this fandom treat c!tommy and how differently from any other character they treat him, for example c!ranboo. It shows so much after every single stream, especiay this one and its such a pet peeve of mine because its so unfair.

If people don't like c!tommy thats absolutely fine, but don't pull stuff out of your arse to tear the character down.

When c!tommy lost henry and was clearly grieving and feeling terribly, c!ranboo didn't really deal with that very well and did a bad job comforting him and thus sometimes came off borderline mocking. And that is very justified and in character from his pov because he is not at all equipped to handle peoples mental breakdowns and shouldn't have to be, hes basically a walking mental breakdown himself. Not once after that stream did i see a comment anywhere that was like 'c!ranboo is ignoring tommys trauma/isnt taking it seriously!!bad friend!!'

But after c!tommy makes one tiny offhand comment about c!tubbo having thicker skin, from his pov also fully justified and in character, its suddenly 'ooh he isnt taking his trauma seriously!!!bad friend!" Or again today, with them deciding that ranboos 'tubbo is only using me for my items' (which was absolutely a joke and not serious lore) isn't cannon, but tommy accidentally blowing up tubbos stuff, (like tubbo did to him on his birthday btw and Nobody said a word about it BECAUSE IT ALSO WASNT CANON NOR INTENTIONAL) is.

I see people bragging about not watching c!tommys pov and not c!ranboos despite them having about the same viewership numbers during lore streams. They complain about c!tommy taking away attention from others and being the protagonist, while declaring c!ranboo who is also involved in many plotlines the 'next protagonist' in the very same sentence...

Some people just pick and choose anything that makes c!tommy look bad and put both c!ranboo and cc!ranboo on a pedestal. And don't even get me started on their totally invasive takes on the irl friendships. At this point they should just admit that they hate cc!tommy, stop watching his stuff if he annoys them so much, and shut up.

this isn’t ranboo critical in any way at all, because it isn’t his fault that people in this fandom behave this way/there’s a bias between them, but yea, you’re right.

i don’t know what it is, but people seem to be more open to supporting c!ranboo than they do c!tommy under any circumstance. and it’s like, that’s fine, you’re allowed to have characters you’re more open to supporting/you like more than others —god knows i do— but it gets the point where when you’re actively comparing the two characters/saying things like “ranboo wouldn’t ever do this” or “ranboo is so much better at __/for __ than tommy is!” is like. Okay Pal. i don’t know what it is, if i’m honest. i don’t know if it’s tommy’s abrasive personality that throws ‘em off, but the double standards in this fandom never fail to astound me —and, it isn’t always with ranboo. there’s a lot more people that are willing to be forgiving with any other character than c!tommy. there’s always the “i’m not excusing c!tommy but i can understand why he did __” or “he shouldn’t have done __!! he’s evil!! a monster!” but when it comes to anyone else it’s just “they popped off 🥺🥺🥺 deserved!! never did anything wrong!” and it’s getting to the point where i’m genuinely tired of it. people in this fandom take any opportunity they can to bash on his character but when it’s anybody else it’s just crickets, and they like do this funny little things /s, where they make fun of apologists for c!tommy for only liking a character if they’re nice to him, but then turn around and do the same exact thing and when said character isn’t nice to their fave they’re the devils incarnate, so it’s hypocritical for them to stereotype c!tommy apologists as people who only care about certain characters if they have a positive opinion of tommy when they do the same thing.

i’m just sort of tired of it. when c!tommy makes the slightest mistake i’m always anxious to check tumblr or twitter because i already know —i’m already expecting thousands of people to have turned against him. there’s such open support of c!tommy one second, but once he makes one harmless mistake it’s suddenly he’s unforgivable once again and i’m getting tired of people not bothering to understand his character and brushing him off as horrible but when it comes down to anyone else they’re way more open for second chances.

i don’t fucking understand it, is the problem.

genuinely, i don’t . i don’t understand why the vendetta against him goes so far, and i’d be open for people to tell me why they hate him but half of he time they don’t have a reason beyond him being annoying/the mistakes he’s already made up for and theyre just choosing to hold a grudge against him for.

i don’t care if you don’t like c!tommy, don’t take this post as an opportunity to debate with me (/srs), because i’m tired of explaining to deaf ears why “hey, he isn’t actually that bad guys”, because it’s 4:51AM and i’m being driven by spite and pettiness only. i will bite your head off /hj

[proffbon]

One of the things that I can’t stand is hypocrisy. Or, to be exact, double standards. And this fandom is yet to rid itself of the biggest double standard of all: Manberg was a dictatorship and L’manberg wasn’t. 

Maybe I’m just a big stickler for words or maybe it’s because I’m a mostly self-taught ESL, but I do take these words being thrown around seriously. And so I say “Yes, in certain aspects Manberg was a dictatorship, although it’s very hard to determine as roleplay SMP politics don’t exactly mirror real-life politics”. And my little brain expects people to just apply the same standard for every country on the SMP. But more often than not “Manberg is a dictatorship” is said with an underline of “which L’Manberg wasn’t”. Which is... an interesting statement. 

I can let people get away with people calling Manberg and Schlatt administration tyranny. Because this word is more subjective, morality-driven. It not only states unlimited power but also the cruel or oppressive use of such power. Whether or not this word can be used in regard to L’Manberg is to be discussed. And I believe that the opinion will change from person to person.

But dictatorship is different. Dictatorship is, by itself, neutral. That’s right, that’s right. Dictatorship is a form of government, with its pros and cons (mostly cons). And so this word has a more solid definition. More solid defining characteristics. And when you judge by them, yes some of them do fit Manberg, some of them don’t, some are too difficult to translate into SMP from real life. But here’s the catch - the same goes for L’Manberg. The og L’Manberg in particular, Soot administration.

Now I’ll indulge myself in break down what a dictatorship is point by point. I guess this will be quite long.

1. No separation of powers

Really hard to determine because while both administrations had distinct cabinet positions none of them had any specific roles, rights and duties. In that sense, all L'Manberg governments were more like monarchies with the president having the final say in everything and the cabinet acting as advisers. During both administrations people pointed out how despite there being a lot of cabinet members real power was held by a select few (but more often than not by the president himself). The president could freely take away anyone’s cabinet position (eg. Wilbur giving Tommy’s vice-presidency to Tubbo) or promote anyone without consulting other members of the cabinet (eg. Schlatt giving Fundy an obscene amount of promotions). Despite that, all the cabinet members could do as they please generally. They could construct different builds, recruit people, order punishment, help with documentation in both administrations. Although the president could overrule their decisions later. The president also didn't need to consult the cabinet on any decision while the cabinet had to check their propositions with the president (sometimes they would do without it but most preferred to at least notify the president).

So I guess when we try to draw the conclusion - no, there wasn’t such thing as separation of power in both administrations.

2. Manipulation of votes/elections

Wilbur only instilled the election in the first place in order to reaffirm his power, meaning that originally he was meant to be president forever. Then he tried to manipulate the election by concealing the fact that it’s even happening, tried to cover up his fuck-up when Big Q found out, let a bunch of spoiler parties in and blatantly admitted to planning on using Quackity's votes to get into power without providing any sort of power to Quackity himself (it was Tommy admitting it but Wilbur didn't protest). Schlatt proposed a deal with a set number of benefits for Quackity and followed through with them (getting a cabinet position and his only job being having a fat ass all day long, Schlatt lied about the salary tho I guess) - also notice how he proposed the endorsement and not the coalition/vote pooling, the coalition was announced loud and clear by Quackity (got the idea of vote pooling from Wilbur, Wilbur himself didn’t immediately outlaw coalitions) and Schlatt made sure that all the votes would go to his party (meaning that Quackity's "I had more votes, I should be president" claim is invalid). He then followed through on SWAG's company promises (the most prominent being the removal of walls) and was planning to stay president for at least 4 years (he presumes that was the term's duration) but acknowledged that there was basically no laws that stopped him from extending the period/canceling the election.

Again, both could be accused of this.

3. No opposition

While Schlatt exiled the POG party he left Coconut alone (because exile was more of a personal gripe), he also let Niki (one of the most vocal oppositionists in the country) stay even though she technically had a criminal record and was serving alternative punishment in the form of taxation. According to the official alternative scenario, Wilbur's first order would be to imprison Schlatt for voter fraud (so basically on false claims if we presume the specifics of the scenario were the same, also it probably would be kind of hypocritical considering that Fundy was the one caught cheating in the end). While L'Manberg never banned it's opposition there probably couldn't BE any opposition because a whole group of people (who would probably hold the opposing views) weren't even allowed in the country. How can there be an opposition when you don't allow people in based on their nationality?

Yet again, both are seen being oppressive to the opposition.

4. No free press

This one is tricky. There really wasn’t any press to be oppressed per se. And any oppositional views were already reviewed in the previous paragraph. I guess you could probably count Schlatt planning on getting rid of the words "Wilbur", "Tommy" and "L'Manberg" from books but that's more about rewriting history (which is a whole another can of worms).

Yeah, this one is kinda hard to determine.

5. Little to no rights

I don't really think anyone was stripped of any specific rights. Americans couldn't enter L'Manberg or be its citizens but I don't know if that would count (it should tho). Manberg technically banned Tommy and Wilbur from entering but had a visa process (although Quackity amended it to also include Wilbur and Tommy serving a prison sentence and doing free labor for entering the country). Basically, every citizen was free to build, open business and do whatever they wanted, but the cabinet also had the right to destroy those builds and punish people for crimes. (No, taxing Niki doesn’t count. It was an alternative punishment for attacking the vice-president. No other citizen was subjected to taxation)

This one is open to discussion.

6. Often got into power through violence

Schlatt was elected so no. Wilbur, even if we don't count the war, named himself president without consulting anyone just by virtue of being a respected general. Technically the only administration that gained power through brute force was the Underscore administration.

So I guess that’s a no for both (unless we count the og war).

So what I’m trying to say, I guess, by definition, if Manberg was a dictatorship so was L’Manberg. ❤️

[theskywaslookingback]

tma fic recs please ? 🤲🏽

Oooooo yes! I never get asks like this, thank you!

[my tumblr fic recs tag is here for browsing]

I had to put it under a cut because it got...entirely too long barely half an hour into making it, sorry.

Under 5k

means of cartharsis by orphan_account [G] [965]

“You’d think – you’d that at this point nightmares would be second nature for me, hm?” Martin says, forcing a smile even as he tugs the blanket tighter around his trembling shoulders.

It’s meant to be a bit funny. Instead of laughing, though, Jon frowns.

“No,” he says simply, and matter-of-factly wipes the moisture from Martin’s cheeks with a tissue like he’s a crying child.

A Proper Sleepover by Goodluckdetective (scorpiantales) [T] [1.4k]

In a different world, one where Elias is not waiting for them outside the Lonely, everyone has a chance to savor a moment of respite. As much as they can get these days. If only to talk about things that long need to be spoken.

“Basira says we should all sleep in the same room tonight,” Jon says without looking up. “Safer. So we can keep an eye out for intruders and also each other.”

“So we’re having a proper sleepover then?”

Jon scoffs. “Technically we’ve been having a proper one for months.”

where i go, when i go there by rainny_days [T] [1.7k]

Martin wants Jon to hold his hand. Martin doesn't want Jon to hold his hand.

It's complicated.

all the other ways by AptlyNamed [G] [2.2k]

Jon loses his first soul mark when he is eight years old.

a palace from ruin by bibliocratic [G] [2.2k]

"What're you sorry for?” Martin asks.

“I should have asked,” Jon says finally. “I'd never.... you were always so private about him, so I mean, at first I wasn't sure he was even yours, but then – when you, when you went with Peter, and I – he was so small, and I thought he was h-half-dead. S-so I picked him up and I carried him. And I'm sorry.”

interiors by doomcountry [T] [2.7k]

In the doorway, he fumbles with his keys. Their sound is loud in the silent stairwell. You don’t remember getting here.

searching for a light (for a right) by Kalgalen [T] [2.7k]

Some people make the mistake of assuming he's naive about sex, for the simple reason he hasn't dated in a while. Tim has called him a prude, at one point, and implied that he was somehow afraid of the intimacy required by the act; he wasn’t entirely wrong, but this definitely isn’t the reason for Jon's disinterest and general bafflement toward what most people seemed to consider as "what makes them human".

Jon simply hasn't found the right person. That is all it is: high standards, and a reticence to let people in.

(In which Jon finds out society is wrong about what a romantic relationship should be.)

how to plant a garden in rocky soil by treeprince [T] [2.9k]

Sometimes you just need a good pair of hands to work out all the kinks in your life.

Good thing Martin has two.

A Weather In The Flesh by cuttooth [G] [3k]

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

*

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

I'll bring the motion by callmearctus [T] [3.1k]

A long series of kidnappings and international flights leaves its own special mark on someone. Before the Unknowing, Jon is a mess.

Martin helps.

A Bread Made In Heaven by Againstme [G] [3.3k]

Martin moves over and watches how his boyfriend handles the dough. He's awkward with it, tentative and gentle, as if he's scared of hurting it somehow.

"Is this, uh, am I doing this right?" Jon asks, still slowly stretching out the dough and folding it onto itself.

"Well," he says shifting closer to Jon again, "you could be applying more pressure. Here, let me help you out, dear."

Martin moves fully behind Jon, and reaches around him, putting his hands on top of his boyfriend's. Jon inhales sharply, but doesn't say anything else, just lets Martin's hand rest on top of his.

Martin's hands are bigger, but not big enough to entirely envelop the other's hands, and Jon's hands are much, much warmer than his own are. To see what they're doing, Martin moves his head to look over Jon's shoulder. Though he can't see his boyfriend's face from this angle, he can see how it is slowly growing red at the edge of his vision. He decides not to tease him on it, instead content with letting a smile spread across his face and slowly guiding their joined hands in the proper motion.

Or, Martin teaches Jon how to make bread.

stumbling and spinning by lady_mab [G] [3.3k]

“Things happened,” Jon says demurely, trying to untangle Gerry’s fingers, but it only results in him getting pulled in so Gerry can kiss him properly. “It’s not all that bad.”

“I suppose not,” Gerry says with a sigh, sitting back upright. “You somehow managed to snag an incredible boyfriend out of it.”

It takes a solid few seconds before realization clicks in Martin’s brain. “You mean me?” [...]

“You have to admit, Jon has great tastes,” Gerry teases.

nothing sweeter than local honey by beeclaws [T] [3.4k]

So Tim is content, one arm leaned into the spray, waiting for the water to warm, enjoying the feeling of homecoming underneath the gentle fuzz of jetlag, when he hears gasping, panicked breaths coming from the other room.

Tim and Jon, in the aftermath, relearning how to be okay.

When Words are Inadequate by Mugatu [T] [3.8k]

Meals and the preparation of are, for want of a better word, informative. Fact gathering. A place where they can fill in the gaps of their knowledge of the other.

Jon cooks for Martin, and they learn more about each other.

go softly by doomcountry [T] [4k]

And there is nothing else besides this.

Imago by cuttooth [T] [4k]

“Jon?” he asks tentatively, tightening his grip around the poker as it slips against his sweaty palm. The antennae twitch, and suddenly Martin knows that it’s Jon, the knowledge sliding into his mind in a surge of desperate affection, the same profound love he felt that first time he truly saw Jon in the fog of the Lonely.

“Oh,” he whispers. “It really is you.”

*

Jon changes, but he’s still the same to Martin.

shoreline by bibliocratic [G] [4.1k]

“Martin," Tim says kindly, tipsily, only mildly slurring. "Dearest, dearest Martin. You're wankered, babe. Last train to Stockwell fucked off hours ago because it is now piss off o'clock in the morning, and there's a sofa with your exact name on it at my place. Thought you said you wanted some handsome fellow to take you back to his tonight?”

Or: The OG Archive crew go drinking, Martin comes out, and gets some well deserved TLC. In that order.

get your epitaph right by bibliocratic [G] [4.2k]

Martin's daemon has tried on the shape of dogs and lizards and snakes and horses, and even – once, when he was younger and Mum took him to the seaside, a fish.

Martin's never seen his soul in the dressing of a spider before.

i've known the warmth of your doorways by beeclaws [T] [4.2k]

'I’m always in pain, Jon wants to say, even as he dismisses the thought as melodramatic. Between his growing collection of old wounds and scar tissue, the supernatural hunger for statements that hasn’t been truly satiated in months, and the unpredictable aches and strains his body threw off day by day long before he ever set foot in the Institute, some level of pain and discomfort follows Jon wherever he goes now. He is used to being in pain. He’s not used to someone holding his hand as he suffers through it.'

Jon catalogs the comforts he receives, and wonders how long he will be allowed to keep them.

lay down your weary head by Zykaben [T] [4.6k]

Jon has been running himself ragged, searching for every scrap of information he can possibly find about the Unknowing. He's exhausted and sleep-deprived but he can't bring himself to take a break, not now.

Luckily, Tim and Martin are there to make sure that their boyfriend gets the care and rest he needs.

only the sweetest words remain by bluejayblueskies [T] [4.6k]

This isn't how things are supposed to go, right? Jon remembers those ratty paperbacks from the charity shops, dime-a-dozen romance novels with broken bindings and yellowing pages and words that spoke of love and passion and sexuality in prose that was more than a bit too mature for someone whose age hadn’t yet reached double digits. Stolen glances turn into dinner dates turn into passionate kisses turn into…

Well, he’d never actually read those parts of the books, because it had all seemed so deeply uncomfortable and gross. But he got the picture.

Or, Jonathan Sims, on being loved

5k-20k

and they keep not letting go by Marianne_Dashwood [G] [5k]

It’s an electric feeling, something strange and new and familiar all at once, even though he has been holding Martin’s hand for most of the day. His stomach swoops, like he is standing on the edge of the precipice of realisation and staring into the void of unknowing. But at the same time, he does know. In this instant of contact between them, the last few years of cups of tea and small smiles and momentary glances, of panic and fear and only feeling safe with Martin’s solid presence in the room, despite his paranoia, rush into him, and oh, oh oh.

ready to call this love by yewgrove [G] [5.6k]

How is Martin supposed to tell Jon that he panicked, stupidly, when the lovely old lady down the village asked him what they were doing in this part of the world? Got the shopping! Oh, by the way, we're married now! Whole village thinks we're on our honeymoon, hope you don't mind!

Prenons-nous la main by luftballons99 [T] [6k]

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

This Must Be The Place by cuttooth [T] [6k]

“You said – you said we were going home,” Martin says softly.

“I did,” says Jon, and is grateful that Martin doesn’t comment on him calling the Archives home. “I – I don’t really know where to go. I, uh, I don’t have a flat anymore, I don’t think. We could find a hotel?”

“Let’s go to my place,” says Martin. His hand squeezes Jon’s, more gently than before. Most importantly, Jon notes, he doesn’t let go.

*

Jon and Martin go home for a little while.

Small Things, Simple Acts by ZaliaChimera [T] [6.6k]

Even after leaving London, Jon and Martin are not free, not really. Maybe they never will be.

But for now they can be themselves, and maybe in the end, that's enough.

house by tomatoes [G] [9k]

Martin can take care of himself.

roses, roses, roses by acetheticallyy (judesstfrancis) [T] [9.3k]

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses.

a deeply annoying child by ajkal2 [G] [9.6k]

Jon is hiding under the desk.

----

There's a child in the Archives, who shouldn't be there.

Inseparable by voiceless_terror [T] [10.3k]

“You can stay.” The voice interrupts his internal panic, and he looks over to find Jon studiously avoiding his gaze, staring hard at a neighboring bush. Martin wonders what caused his sudden change of heart. “But you have to sit on the other side. And don’t talk to me.”

Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood meet as children. Some things change, others do not.

i'm almost me again, you're almost you by gruhukens [G] [12k]

After a second Jon steps in towards him, close enough that Martin flinches, but all Jon does is put two fingers under his chin with his free hand and raise it until Martin can’t duck away. Jon has never touched him so casually before – at least, not until today, and it raises a lot of thoughts and feelings that Martin is trying very hard not to process.

Much like a lot of other things that have happened, he thinks. Not that it’s horrible or terrifying or numbing like everything else has been: it’s just another thing on the list of things he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.

---

In the wake of the Lonely, there's a lot that Martin doesn't really want to think about.

hello my old heart by firebirdsuite [T] [15.8k]

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Over 20k

The Kindness of Strangers by TheOestofOCs [M] [23k]

It was easier to treat Jon like a monster when he wasn’t shivering against his back, brokenly humming—wait, was that…

“Are you trying to do ‘Hey, Jude’?” Tim demanded.

Jon stopped, stiffening. “Mm hrmh mm mmh hm,” he said defensively.

“You really can’t hold a tune, can you, boss?”

*

It was just an ordinary walk to a restaurant. Tim had insisted that if they were going to talk, there would be no tape recorders or weird Archives ghosts listening in. A bit of fresh air wouldn’t kill him, Tim had said. What could go wrong?

By the time Jon spots the white delivery van, it’s much too late.

The Stranger kidnaps Jon. Tim comes along for the ride.

Misjudged by ShastaFirecracker [T] [36.5k]

Martin's been a longtime listener of What the Ghost, so when Georgie gives a shoutout to her flatmate's Twitch channel during a Q&A, he checks it out - only to discover that her flatmate is also his most terrifying coworker at his new job. The first time they crossed paths, Jon yelled at him for incompetence. But on the streams, Martin sees an entirely different person - someone fun and relaxed, engaging and unfairly attractive. Over time, Martin begins to find that Jon buried inside his dour, awkward coworker. He also learns to live with the fact that his crush is painfully one-sided... or is it?

if we make it through the night everyone is gonna hear us (Series) by skvadern [Ratings Vary] [42.4k]

In which Sasha survives the NotThem (with a little help from a certain Distortion) and she and Jon spend s2 working together to try and make sense of everything that's happening to them. It goes...interestingly

the garden of forking paths by bibliocratic [T] [49.7k]

Whatever he had predicted might happen, Jon wasn't expecting to survive upon demolishing the Panopticon. He certainly wasn't expecting to be rescued.

Instead, he wakes up in an alternative universe where he's never been the Archivist, and Martin Blackwood doesn't exist.

Martin Blackwood wakes up somewhere else entirely.

it's only forever by lady_mab [T] [50.9k]

“The castle at the center of the labyrinth,” Jon breathes, recalling again the words from one of the past conversations with Martin. “He’s there.”

“Turn back, Jonathan,” the Goblin King says, and Jon is surprised to hear a slight edge of desperation in the tone. “Turn back before it’s too late.”

“I can’t,” Jon answers with the same tone. “You know that I can’t.”

The Goblin King’s grin is gone completely, and he regards Jon with a degree of pity before that melts into resignation.

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey [T] [53.3k]

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

A Home For What Loves You by TheWrongShop [T] [151k]

It was completely fine that Jon was following up on this very normal, non-supernatural statement at midnight on a Friday. He was going to find nothing at all, and then he was going to go home and sleep for fourteen straight hours and feel absolutely no qualms about moving case #0150409 directly into the filing cabinet marked "discredited".

Or; Jon and Martin end up investigating Carlos Vittery's basement and finding the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss together.

RATED E *MINORS DNI*

A Look And A Voice by cuttooth [E] [6.9k]

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Jon asks bluntly, and for a second Martin can’t breathe.

“It - it doesn’t matter what I - ” he begins valiantly, before Jon interrupts him.

“Because I want to have sex with you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if you think it’s for the wrong reasons. I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. The only thing that matters is if you want to as well.”

*

Martin meets a guy in a bar and takes him home.

Warms The Coldest Night by cuttooth [E] [11k]

"Flame that warms the coldest night Bring to us the waxing Light, Be with us on Solstice Night." Gypsy - Bring Back The Light

There is mistletoe hanging in the doorway to the Archives when Jon gets in.

Curiosity by ShastaFirecracker [E] [11.6k]

“You know that conversation we had the other day about how one of the most important things for queer youth to learn is that it's okay to change their minds, because identity and self-discovery are always fluid?”

Behind him, Martin slipped oven mitts over his hands and pulled open the oven door. The scent of garlic and rosemary flooded the kitchen. “Yeah?” he said.

“I, um... I'd like to revisit the topic of sex.”

At the Interim (Series) by Rend_Herring [E] [41k]

A Measure Outside the Lines and The Residuum

triptych (Series) by Stacicity [E] [44.9k]

A collection of Jon/Tim/Martin fics

a steady hand, a delicate man by callmearctus [E] [52.8k]

Martin is the proprietor and manager of a very discrete and fairly exclusive brothel situated between Belgravia and Chelsea. Blackwood House excels at special requests and pleasing any client.

Except for Jon, who probably has never been pleased a day in his entire life.

Despite that, he still comes back. It eventually begs the question: how do you solve a problem like Jon Sims?

[disgruntledspacedad]

The Rules of Engagement (5/5)

part of the The Better Love Series 

pairing: Javier Peña x fem reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.

words: 5.7k

warnings: 18+ - drugs, violence, language, alcohol, smut.

a/n: many many notes at the end. unbeta’d as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Javi clicks off the radio as soon as the car starts, and you spend the first half of the ride in silence. For a while, he seems to be focused intently on driving, but you know him well enough to see the wheels turning in his head. Sunglasses hide his eyes, but still, there’s something about that little frown that suggests that his thoughts are far from lunchtime traffic. 

It doesn’t bother you - your mind really isn’t on the road, either. 

“I can’t figure it out.” You’re startled to find that it’s your voice breaking the silence. 

“Can’t figure out what?” Javi takes a deep drag from his cigarette. He’s still not looking at you.

“Who did this, and why.” You swallow past the emotion that wells in your throat, firmly redirecting your thoughts to facts and evidence. “It wasn’t an accident, Peña, I’m ruling that out now. Somebody planted a bomb in Emilio’s store.” 

Javi purses his lips tightly. 

“And call me crazy, but I can’t help but think that it has something to do with Escobar.” Your voice is rising now as you warm to the argument. “Like, this is his MO, right? Bombing civilian small business, terrorism, chaos…” you trail off, furrowing your brow as you rest your forehead against the cool window. “Just… why here? Why Bogotá?”

Why Emilio? 

Javi’s face freezes. He’s quiet for a long time. You watch him warily from the corner of your eye. To the casual observer, he’s all calm stoicism, snuffing his cigarette and reaching both hands to finger the steering wheel. But you know better - you read the subtle stiffness in his shoulders, the carefully shuttered expression, the white knuckle grip that suggests that he’s far more stressed than he’s letting on.

Something wild throbs in your chest and you have a sudden, irrational suspicion that he might know more than he’s saying. The moment stretches, and just as you’re ready to panic, Javi huffs a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know,” he admits in a low voice, and the bubble of uncertainty shatters. “But I’m going to find out.”

There’s something cold in his tone, a controlled, a calculated malice that threatens vengeance, and you rest your forehead against the window, wondering at the profound sense of reassurance you draw from his words.

Out of nowhere, a truck swerves in front of you, and Javi leans hard on the horn, cursing and flipping off the driver out the window as you weave past him.

You can’t help a small smile at that - Javier Peña, taking out his worries on the unassuming drivers of Bogotá.   

Again, silence stretches between you.

“I think it’s time you told me about your morning.” Javi’s voice is soft, but still, you know it’s not a request. 

“There’s not much to tell,” you confess. Again, not entirely true, but you haven’t even begun to process it all, and the details are overwhelming to contemplate. “I volunteered to stay over at headquarters. They wouldn’t put me in the air two nights in a row, but still, I wanted to know what was happening.”

His lips twitch at this. 

“It was quiet. I left around seven, I think. I’m not entirely sure. Figured somebody would call me with news. And then…” You pause, swallowing hard. “I was almost home. At the corner of 70.” 

You remember waving to Emilio, the way his eyes had lit up when he’d spotted you, his toothy grin. He’d been so proud, introducing you to that guaro.You blink, bracing yourself against the yawning pit of grief that threatens to open in your chest. Not now. Please.

“Then the store exploded.”

You and Javi draw a deep breath at the same time. The ensuing silence is stifling. 

“Then what?” he prompts you gently.

You glance up, noticing that he’s parked the car. Neither of you move.

“I stumbled back,” you continue haltingly. You just want this conversation to be over. “It’s all kind of a blur, from there. It was really weird, like… like being in a time warp, or something.”

He nods grimly, like he understands.

“I decided to go to your place…” you’re nervous, confessing this part to him. As tense as he is, as awkward as things have been, any reference of your previous liaisons feels like stirring hot shit with a stick. “I just, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You didn’t wait for the police to arrive?”

Desperation and indignation rise in you. “Javi, I’d just witnessed my fucking apartment go up in flames, okay? Excuse me if I didn’t perform to your exacting standards!”

He presses his lips together in a firm line, and oh, fuck. You realize that you’ve just called him by his name again - something you’ve made a point not to do since that horrible morning in the shower.

Ugh.

You drop bonelessly against the passenger seat, all of the fight leaking from you. This fucking day… god, just, fuck this day.

“I’m sorry.” Javi’s voice is so whisper-quiet that it almost doesn’t register. 

You take three deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out.

“It’s fine,” you say, once you’re grounded again. “But I’m - I’m just done talking, okay?”

“Yeah.” Javi opens his door with a deep sigh. “Okay.”

♠

Javi lets you in, and you go straight for the sofa, settling awkwardly with your hands in your lap.  

God, now what? You’re right back where you started - no home, no job to do, and no answers. Exhaustion and helpless resignation swallow you whole, and you sit like that for a long moment, staring into the middle distance and fighting the urge to rest your head in your hands. 

After a while - you’re not sure how long - you notice the absolute silence permeating the apartment. Javi hasn’t moved, hasn’t spoken. You’d totally forgotten he was there.

You glance up.

He’s draped against the front door with his arms folded defensively across his chest, frowning fiercely at nothing. 

“Hey.” You aren’t aware that you’ve moved until you’re standing in front of him.

His eyes flutter shut and he exhales, long and slow, tilting his head back against the door so that he’s facing the ceiling, and okay, now you’re seriously freaked out. 

“Javi?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispers.

“Can’t do what?”

He grimaces like the sound of your voice is painful. “Please don’t make me.”

You take a half step closer, alarm bells screaming in your head. You have never, ever heard this man beg, not once in all the time you’ve spent together. “Don’t make you… Javi, what?”

His gaze flicks to yours, and you suck a sharp breath. 

Javi looks absolutely wrecked. His eyes are wide and dark, brow furrowed deep, and he’s staring at you with so much longing in his expression that little sparks of electricity go zipping across your skin. 

“God, Ears, baby, I was there,” he rasps. He takes one quick little step forward, as if to reach for you. “I went to your place as soon as I heard, as soon as the plane landed…”

You brain skitters to a stop. 

Oh, Christ. He hadn’t told you that. You don’t even have time to wonder about it, though, because Javi is still speaking, words pouring out of him as if revisiting the memory has cracked him wide open. 

“And it, it was a fucking crater, okay? And nobody had seen you, nobody had heard anything, and they had the fucking - the fucking body bags -” His voice cracks, and he presses his fists to his eyes, as if to hide his face while he gathers himself. 

Horror floods you. You’re starting to put it all together now. You’d been so distracted by your own terrible day that you’d not once thought to ask about Javi’s. You imagine him at the bomb site, picking his way through ash and rubble, flashing his badge at firemen and emergency responders, firing off questions, watching them load up body bags…

Oh, fuck.

Javi shakes his head sharply, as if dispersing the memories, and when he looks up, his eyes are red-rimmed and wet. “Querida,” he breathes, pinning you with an expression of open desperation. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Oh. 

It takes a lot to scare Javier Peña. You know this. He’s a fearless man. He has to be.

But this morning, Javi had been terrified. You recall his voice over the phone, tense and clipped, the blustered sigh of profound relief, the clattering footsteps as he’d raced up the steps, his eyes, not quick and efficient, but frantic as he’d taken you in, alive and healthy and wearing his clothes.

“I’m right here,” you whisper, unable to articulate just how profoundly you mean that. You’re still reeling from the implications of it all.

“I know,” Javi chokes. He blinks hard, almost like he’s baffled by it. “You’ve been right here the whole time.” He hitches a breath. “And goddammit, baby, I can’t sit here and listen to you say my name without wondering what the hell else I’m losing.”

Reality shifts and realigns in an instant. Fear and disbelief give way to fierce longing, and your voice comes out as a choked whisper. “Come here.”

Javi does, haltingly at first, as if wondering if you really mean it. You fall into his arms, and he pulls you close, reverently, as if you are the most precious thing in the world. He presses his forehead carefully to yours, catching your jawline with his palms and threading his fingers through your hair. 

“God, baby,” he rasps. “When I saw you… When I heard your voice…”

“I’m okay,” you remind him, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m okay.” 

He sighs deeply, and a bubble of tension you weren’t even aware of bursts at the sound. You melt into him, and he holds you tightly for a long, long time, swaying your bodies gently back and forth, your head tucked against his chest. 

You tilt your face to him, pressing your lips to his skin, and he huffs brokenly, his body still wrapped around yours like he’s reluctant to create any space between you. He’s shaking as he takes your face in his hands, pausing just long enough to fix you with a wild-eyed, pleading glance.

“Okay?” he breathes. 

“God, yes,” you gasp. “Yes.”

And just like that, Javi’s kissing you like a man without air, awkward and starving, catching the back of your neck with one hand, the other roaming beneath your shirt to stroke at your ribcage.

There’s nothing gentle about it. A month’s worth of desperation has been building in both of you, and now, Javi’s frantically mapping your body with his lips and tongue, peppering little licks and kisses and soft nips down your jaw and neck while you scramble awkwardly for the buttons of his shirt. You struggle to keep your fingers under control as one gigantic hand finds your ass and squeezes. You gasp, inadvertently popping his last button. 

Damn, you liked that shirt. 

Undeterred, you push it aside, finally free to explore his chest and back and belly for the first time in far too long. Javi’s skin is warm beneath your fingertips, his body smooth muscle and soft heat as he leans into you. His hands are snaking beneath your shirt now, one brushing the bare skin of your torso as it wanders up to grasp at your bra, the other gripping at the hollow of your hips. You arch into his touch, groaning low into his mouth, and he bucks in response, cock straining at his jeans, denim deliciously rough against your palm.

“What do you want, baby?” he gasps into the hollow of your throat. Those gorgeous hands have migrated back to your ass now, clutching with a greediness that leaves you panting. 

“Just…” God, you can’t even think, your brain flickering in and out, overloaded with pleasure and pent up emotion and Javier Peña. “Just you, Javi. Now. Please.”

He whimpers, his erection digging rock-hard into your belly, and the sound nearly brings you to your knees - cool, collected, suave Javier Peña, keening for you. 

Javi hikes you up so quickly that you yelp, hips pinning you as he drives you into the wall. You brace yourself for impact, but he’s already anticipated that - one hand cups the back of your head, cradling you protectively, the other reaching past your thighs to clench at your pussy.

You moan, rocking into him, bracing your elbows against the wall to grant him access. You shimmy your hips, and he hitches your skirt up with a fist, dragging your soaking panties to the side as he buries his fingers inside you.

“Oh,” you gasp.

Javi’s fingers pulse deep into your core, once, and then again, that come-hither curl of them driving you wild as he pumps through your juices. You scramble back, opening yourself as best you can with your limited mobility as he presses his knee beneath your leg to hold you in place. 

God fucking damn, there’s something about being pinned to the wall by this man that leaves you trembling and leaking.

Groaning, Javi sinks his mouth onto yours, and you arch up to meet him, sucking sloppily on his lips, his stubbled jaw, whatever you can get to. You tug his hair hard, mostly for leverage, and he gasps, throwing his head back in a way that allows you access to his neck. You love Javi’s neck - it’s delicious, all fascinating gentle dips between tight tendons, and you relish the opportunity to explore each of its arcs and hollows with your tongue.

He shudders as you nip and suck and bite at him, grinding your body against his as you clench your legs around his waist. 

You’re both panting at this point, skin slick with sweat. It’s hard to know where you end and Javi begins, but it’s so, so good, feral and desperate and heated, and somehow, he’s still managing to pulse his thumb at your clit.  The motion sets a fucking fire in you, slow, deep waves of hot pressure building in your core.

“More, Javi,” you beg against his clavicle, shimmying your hips against his hand. Any other day, you’d be content to stay here, caught between him and the wall as he wrings your orgasm from you with the pads of his fingers. But there’s something else building in you, a desperation that has both nothing and everything to do with physical release, and you just need him closer. “I- I need -”

Javi growls, gently dropping you to the floor as he shucks out of his jeans. You help him along with trembling fingers, giggling incoherently as your heads brush clumsily in your haste. You take the opportunity to shrug out of your shirt and bra, and then Javi’s pinning you with a gaze that’s almost predatory, dark enough to send shivers of anticipation curling down your spine. 

You back against the wall and raise a brow, daring him to come get you.

He does, hoisting you up easily - he really is stronger than he looks. One knee hikes beneath your thigh, his opposite hand clenched behind your ass, thumb digging deep into the hollow of your hip. You absently notice that he’s once again braced his opposite hand between your head and the wall, threading his fingers through your loosened braid, but you don’t have time to consider it, because he’s thrusting into you, quick, shallow pumps that leave you gasping for air.

It’s mind-blowingly amazing, and a wild, wanton part of you wonders why the hell you haven’t done this before - just kick off your clothes and go at it like animals in the hallway. You sink deeper onto him, angling your hips just-so, and oh fucking christ, he’s rubbing right against your clit, hard and fast and sloppy in the very best way.

You throw your head back, spasming around him, scrabbling at his shoulders for purchase. He’s still wearing his fucking shirt, and you cling to its open edges with enough force to rip. Javi hisses, rhythm faltering as he slips from you. For a moment, you pause like that, him holding you with shaking thighs, your lungs and skin burning, heaving breaths mingling hot on each other’s faces, but then he’s realigning himself, shifting his angle a little. You shimmy up the wall, desperate to accommodate. 

The second round is even more brutal than the first, choppy and shallow. Your abs are burning; it’s a difficult position to maintain, but that familiar fullness is building achingly delicious in your core, so you hold out, gasping. Javi’s breathing raggedly, sweat dripping from his forehead as he presses it against yours, eyes wide and unfocused as he thrusts into you. 

He’s trembling with exertion.

“Fuck!” He’s slipped again. You sink to the floor, reaching for his wrist.  He looks at you, face twisted in a resentful snarl. 

“Javi,” you gasp, kissing him before he can react. What you’re doing is hot as fuck, but it’s not working right now. You’re both too tired, too desperate and shaky, and you need release. “Take me to bed.”

“Hmm,” he moans into your mouth. It must be agreement, because pulls back - you shudder at the loss of contact - and then hoists you over his shoulder in a move that makes your head spin. You giggle a little, breathless and giddy and almost incoherent with need.

Javi carries you through the apartment like that, you clinging to him like a koala bear with your legs locked around his waist and your head draped over his shoulder. He drops you lopsided on his unmade bed. Automatically, you flop over onto your stomach and gather your knees to your chest, remembering how he loves to take you from behind. 

“No,” his voice is strained. A hand, surprisingly gentle, tugs at your shoulder, and you go with it, twisting so that you’re on your back again, sideways in the bed. “I need…” Javi’s panting, dark eyes burning a hole in you. “I need to see you, baby.” His voice breaks, his expression vulnerable, almost apologetic. 

A rush of affection overtakes you, and you reach for him, pulling him close for another deep kiss. Javi straddles you, palming himself in preparation, and you have the foresight to shove a pillow under your ass - if you’re going to be doing this face to face, then you want him as deep as possible.

When you glance up, he’s watching you open-mouthed, absently tugging at his leaking cock like he just can’t help it.

God, he’s beautiful. 

He sucks a startled breath, looking at you in wide-eyed wonder, and oh fuck. You’d said that out loud. 

“Javi,” you whine, yanking him closer. You don’t have time to feel awkward, goddammit. You just need him. For real. Inside you. Right now.

You both shudder as he sinks deep into you. He stays still for a moment, and you clench against him desperately, urging him to move, dammit, but he’s holding off. 

“Baby,” he rasps, glancing down at you, red-faced. “I’m not - I’m not going to last.”

That confession alone makes something swell tightly in you, and you buck your hips in response. “It’s okay,” you rasp, trying hard be good, to hold still, to not overwhelm him.  “I won’t, either.”

He rocks against you, a tiny pulse, just enough to fucking tease, but it must be an unconscious thing, because he’s still looking you in the eye like he’s afraid you’ll reject him, or condemn him.

“Javi, please,” you keen, patience thoroughly spent. You reach up, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades and tugging hard. “I don’t care. I just need you. All of you.”

That gets him moving.

Javi rocks against you, setting up an achingly slow, almost careful rhythm, his left hand still cradled around the back of your neck to brace your head as he draws himself to the hilt, then nearly all the way out again. It’s gentle and sweet, but dammit, you want more. You pull your knees to his elbows to encourage him deeper, digging your heels into his back. Javi gets the message, because he twitches and groans, curling around your body and bracing himself against your shoulders, abruptly driving into you with a force that punches the air from your lungs - hard, fast, and deliciously brutal.

It’s exactly what you need.

You curl up against his chest, abs burning as you glance past your breasts to the place where your bodies are connected. The edges of his open shirt skim the sensitive skin of your ribcage, framing the view and drowning you in more sensation. Heat is pooling in you, tension building and sparking and curling your toes. There’s something surreal and wonderful about watching yourselves work in tandem, his hips and yours, pulsing and perfect.

Javi shudders, and you drag your eyes back to his face, not daring to miss a moment. Fuck, he’s gorgeous, and that expression alone, that little purse-lipped grimace of pleasure, is enough to drive you to the edge. Controlled, careful, restrained Javier Peña coming undone for you, rattled for you, staring at you like it hurts to draw a fucking breath in your presence… goddamn, you twisted little shit, you’re really liking that.

His rhythm is faltering now, thighs clenching erratically, breath coming in ragged little pants. You know that he’s close. 

You reach up to stroke his cheek. “Javi,” you whisper. His eyes find yours, glossy and wild. His mouth is open, his brow furrowed. “It’s okay, baby,” you tell him. He trembles in response, a full body shudder, his eyes flickering shut.

“It’s okay. Let go.”

His breath hitches, and he bucks wildly, collapsing against your chest with a low, broken groan. The hot heaviness of him pulsing into you releases a shockwave of pleasure down you spine. You gasp as your core clenches, spreading his heat, but it’s not quite enough, you’re not quite ready, and you grit your teeth at the loss of friction as he softens inside you. 

You watch his face twitch, relief and ecstasy and something else, something fierce and sharp that you can’t possibly name.

You groan, reaching your fingers down to your core, battering against him. You tug at your clit, index finger tap-dancing in that perfect circular motion that sends you straight over the edge as Javi flops bonelessly beside you.

Desperate for contact, you sink into him, still working to salvage that orgasm, concentrating hard on the rapid rise and fall of his ribcage with each chugging breath, the heat of his body wrapped around you like a second skin. His eyes flutter open, and there’s a look of quiet desperation on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he babbles, reaching for you with wide eyes. “Babe, I -”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” you reassure him, batting his hand aside with your elbow before he can interfere. The waves are crescendoing now, almost painful in their intensity. You’re so fucking close, words and reason are beyond you. “S’okay, Jav, I’m close… I just need…  need you to…. “

“What do you need, baby? Anything.”

“Just - just be here.”

Javi inhales sharply, then gathers you closer to him. “Yeah,” he murmurs, resting his face in the crook of your neck, peppering you with the softest of kisses. One hand rests firmly on your head, its thumb working little circles on your uninjured temple, the other trailing down your body to splay at the sensitive underside of your belly. “I’m here, baby,” he whispers raggedly into your ear. “I’m here.”

Oh god, oh god. The pressure fucking hurts, burning in your toes, clenching in your core, and just when you think that you’re useless today, that sex is absolute bullshit and you can’t possibly take anymore, that -

“You’re so…  my god, baby, you’re fucking perfect.”

It’s not Javi’s tone, broken as is is. It’s the frankness of the confession, the rawness. Javier Peña is not a sweet talker, especially not in bed. He’s not pandering to you. It’s more like the words have been dragged from him at gunpoint, pulled from the very deepest recesses of his subconscious, and it’s that honesty, that awed, reverent authenticity, that drives you over the edge.

It all happens in an instant. The bubble of tension in your core bursts abruptly, and you come with a choked gasp, mind blinking in and out as you ride out wave after wave of sweet relief. Javi is with you the whole time, cradling you in his arms as you shatter. 

It’s not the longest orgasm you’ve had, or even the most intense, but there’s something about him holding you, about sharing the same skin and air and listening to him murmur sweetly in your ear, that transcends any release you've ever experienced. You ride the waves of your orgasm, swearing to the heavens that you’re breaking apart, and somehow, you’re taking Javi with you like you never have before, splintering and reconverging in a way that’s intimate and vulnerable and precious beyond words.

You come back to reality, breathless and trembling, and the first thing you notice is Javi staring at you with something like reverence in his expression. 

“Hey,” he breathes, running a gentle finger down your cheek. 

“Mmm,” you curl into his chest, just breathing him in, all warm, sticky skin and stale cigarette and perfect man. 

You stay that way for a long time.

“I missed you,” Javi whispers hoarsely, pressing soft lips against your ear. 

“I know,” you choke, because you do. That rush of clarity that had effused you in the front hallway is only more potent now. You and Javi had been dancing around each other for months, each of you too stubborn and too afraid to admit to the other that your feelings ran so much deeper than you let on. It’s so obvious now, how stupid you’d both been, and how much you’d missed by being stupid. 

You’re horrified to feel tears tracking down your cheeks. God, reality has caught up with you all at once, exhaustion and fear and horror and relief all snarled up with post-coital vulnerability, and you curl deeper into Javi, tucking your face down in an effort to hide.

He notices, though. He always notices. “Baby?” Javi tilts your face up, tracking over you with concerned, dark eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Exposure turns your tears to choked sobs, and it’s all you can do to speak. “I’m fine,” you gasp, and it’s both the truth and a lie. You’ve never felt safer than you feel now, or more connected to another human than you are to Javier Peña in this moment. 

And that’s the thing. There’s still so much left to say. So many emotions, so many worries, so much grief. It all wars for dominance in you, everything at once, and you’re not even sure what the fuck you’re crying about until all of the sudden, you’re choking on words.

“Emilio,” you gasp. “He - he -”

Javi draws a sharp breath of understanding, wrapping strong arms around you as you cry. 

“He was… he was gone… and there was nothing I could do!”

“Oh, baby,” Javi murmurs into your ear, rubbing tiny circles into the bare skin of your back. “I know. I know. I’m so, so sorry.”

“And, and…” You’re sobbing so hard that your chest burns, and it’s all you can do to breathe, but the dam has burst, and it’s all coming out now, whether you want it to or not. “Oh, god, Javi, I missed you, too.”

He chuckles a little at that, peppering your forehead with gentle kisses and thumbing the tears from your cheeks. 

“Steve was right,” he confesses, tucking your head under his chin. “We’re both idiots.”

This startles a wet giggle from you. You imagine Murphy confronting Javi like he’d confronted you, red-faced and indignant and insisting that you both deserve one another. “Yeah,” you sniffle through your tears. “He was.”

“He’ll be insufferable about it, too.” Javi’s holding your hand now, the pad of his thumb rubbing back and forth, back and forth over your knuckles. You sigh breathily into his chest, crying until your sobs turn to shudders, and then finally, until you’re wrung raw and thoroughly exhausted. 

Javi holds you the whole time.

You exhale raggedly, noticing for the first time just how slimy you are. “Ugh, gross,” you mutter, covering your face with your hand as you draw away from Javi, horrified. 

Jesus Christ, if you’d just slung snot all over Javier Peña’s bare chest… god, you think you won’t survive the humiliation.

But Javi doesn’t seem bothered. He sits up, glancing around his bedroom for a tissue. Finding nothing, he shrugs out of his shirt, offering it to you silently.

You stare at it, then him. 

“What?” he asks, incredulous. He’s still holding out the shirt, eyebrow cocked as if to question why you won’t just take it. 

 “Nothing,” you say. And that’s a lie. There’s something so uniquely Javi about the gesture, wanting you to wipe your nose with the shirt off his back. But that’s just him - genuine, resourceful, efficient. It’s cute and perfect and ridiculous, and it makes your chest swell and ache.

But you can’t quite put all of that into words right now, and you know he wouldn’t understand even if you tried, so you take the shirt from him with a grateful smile and blow your nose in it like a goddamn heathen. 

Javi wads it in a tight ball when you’re finished, chunking it unceremoniously on the floor. 

You roll your eyes, and he smirks at you, squeezing your hand as he climbs out of bed. After his cigarettes, you think. “Pretty sure you dropped them on the kitchen floor,” you call after him. 

“Yup,” he verifies from the hallway.

You take the opportunity to duck into the bathroom and clean up, and by the time you’re done, Javi’s waiting for you, propped up against the headboard with his eyes shut, smoke curling from his mouth. He pats the bed beside him, not looking up, and you snuggle under his arm, sighing contentedly. 

This is new, the cuddling, sharing his bed, burrowing against his side as he smokes, and you savor every detail. His skin is still slick with cooling sweat, and you can hear his heartbeat beneath his ribs where your head rests, slow and steady. Neither of you need to speak, each just drawing comfort from the presence of the other.

Afterglow, you decide, is a very good word for it.

“Javi?” you ask after a long, long time.

“Yeah?” he whispers. You wonder if he thought you were asleep.

“What is this?” You wave your hand, indicating the tiny space between his chest and yours. You know what it looks like, and you know what it is for you, but you can’t stand the thought of leaving anything uncertain between you, not after all of this.

Javi takes a deep drag of his cigarette. He holds that breath for a long time, but the silence doesn’t scare you, not anymore. That’s just Javi’s thinking face, the one you know so well.

After a while, Javi turns to face you fully. “This is me,” he starts slowly, reaching for your hands and lifting them to his chest, “deciding that I’m not going to miss any more opportunities.”

Your breath catches. That sounds - well, coming from Javier Peña, it sounds an awful lot like a vow. 

“I’m all in, Ears.” Javi kisses each of your hands in turn. “If that’s okay with you.” He glances up almost hesitantly, the question burning in his eyes.

There’s something about the gravitas of the delivery that hints that his words are more than they seem. Javi’s gaze is pinned to yours, dark and serious, and a shiver runs down your spine. You might be lacking some context, but Javi’s resolve is impossible to miss. 

You consider it for only half a second. You’ve known for a long time now that there’s a lot more at stake in Colombia than just your career. Hell, you’d known that from the moment you let Javi walk away from your apartment for the first time. And he’s made his position pretty clear, too. You bite back a loopy grin as you remember him blowing past Martinez at headquarters. 

Yeah, there’s no salvaging this secret.

"All in," you say, gripping his hands tightly and wishing you could be half as eloquent and intense and awesome as he is. “I like the way that sounds.”

It’s the honest truth. 

Javi breaks out into a soft smile that shows off that single dimple, leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead. “Looks like we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yeah,” you try to answer, just as you are interrupted by a huge yawn.

Javi snorts. “Go to sleep, Ears,” he says fondly, pointedly throwing back the bed covers. You shoot him a petulant frown, and he rolls his eyes, undeterred. “Seriously, baby. This is just getting stupid now.”

“Whole day is stupid,” you mutter darkly as you climb under the blankets - not because he told you to, but because you want to.

“Oh really?” Javi teases. “The whole day?”

“Well,” you pretend to contemplate. “Guess the sex was alright.” You grin wolfishly at him from beneath the covers. 

His response does not disappoint. “Alright?” He presses a hand to his chest, wounded. “Christ, baby, kick a man while he’s down.” He side-eyes you, frowning. “Guess I really do need to up my game, huh?”

“Your words, Jav,” you mumble. The full force of your exhaustion has hit you with a vengeance, and talking is hard. 

“I will make it up to you baby,” he growls in your ear, suddenly serious. “You know I will.”

“Mmhmm,” you sigh. Any other time, that voice would have gone straight to your core, but now, not so much. “I do.”

“Good.” He drops a kiss on your nose, then slips out of the bed. The loss of his body heat is enough to draw you out of your stupor, just for a moment. 

“Stay?” you call pathetically, just as the lamp flicks off. 

Oh. 

Javi settles back in beside you, wrapping his arms around your chest and nuzzling into the back of your neck with his nose. “Yeah, babe,” he whispers into your ear as you finally, finally drift off. “Not going anywhere.”

♠

Author notes/ confessions:

Whew, and that’s a wrap. Big, big notes here guys. I am incapable of being brief, apparently. 

First, I know a lot of you are chomping at the bits to know who the fuck bombed Ears’ apartment. I tried to place a few little clues here and there, but ROE takes place sometime between 2.06 and 2.07. To summarize, Los Pepes, the vigilante group targeting Escobar, is funded by the Cali cartel. In retaliation, Escobar starts bombing Cali cartel owned business - their drug stores in particular. This really heated up in Bogotá around December 1992, which is when ROE ends. 

Now, here’s the fun thing - Javi is absolutely already working with Los Pepes at this point - a relationship he initiated during the month that he and Ears were on the outs. Ears’ intuition in the car is correct - Javi does know, or suspect, more than he’s saying. This is a major plot point for a story that I have in the pipeline, but working that in here - god, guys, that’s too much, and ROE needed to end like 10k words ago, honestly. 

That being said, if anybody has interest in being a beta, or just letting me scream ideas at them, hit me up. This little “one shot” has turned into a full blown universe in my brain, and these ideas are dying to get out. 

The sex. Yeah, I know the sex isn’t great, but I wanted it that way. It was a strange choice on my part, both for Javi’s character and as a first foray into writing smut, but it just seemed appropriate. Sex is rarely ever as mind-blowing as depicted in fic, and besides, these two have had lots and lots of perfect sex. They’re a pretty equal match in that department, but this time is different. I wanted to put the emotions on display, rather than the physicality. It just makes sense that this time would be rushed, desperate, and messy. They are both emotionally and physically exhausted. Also, I really, really wanted to come full circle from the shower scene, where Ears never gets her completion, and also the scene on the sofa when Ears comforts Javi after a terrible day by saying, “I’m here.” There’s some sort of cathartic and earned about Ears bringing herself to completion while Javi just holds her. That being said, I know I owe Javi, and you guys, some smutty one-shots. I plan to deliver, I promise.

You’ll notice that I mention ears choking, coughing, sputtering, breathing, wheezing, feeling a tightness in the chest, aching… she’s got a small pulmonary contusion from being in such close proximity the blast zone. It’s a common injury in bombing survivors, and hers isn’t massive or life threatening, just inconvenient. Pulmonary contusion symptoms tend to develop hours or days after the injury, so she’ll steadily get worse, and when she does, the whole story of her experience with the explosion WILL come out. She’s still got a lot of trauma to process, both physically and emotionally, but Javi is gonna be there every step of the way (after he flips shit first, that is). I’ll let you guys imagine this one, though, because I have already dragged ROE out far longer than I really should have, and it’s mostly medical bs, anyway. 

Last of all, if you’re still here, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I haven’t written in years, and this story pushed me far outside of my comfort zone. Your support, comments, likes, reblogs, reaction gifs - they all mean the world to me. 

@tiffdawg​, you are directly responsible for this dumpster fire. I hope you’re proud. :)

Much, much love, and a happy new year to each of you.

~ Jay

[allisoooon]

Thanks to your recent reblog, I only just realised Mr. Klaus I-Get-Frequent-Vietnam-War-Flashbacks Hargreeves found himself in another war in the beginning of 2x01. Since your character analysis is top notch, I'd love to hear your take on what this meant for him.

From a non-trauma-related perspective, it means Klaus in this alternate reality has found the same kind of place among his siblings as he found in the 173rd Airborne. Which is a great step. And it seems to be essentially where he ends up by 2.10 as well—while he’s not actually fighting, he’s still part of the fray. At no point does anyone make him the lookout (though old habits die hard, as he’s still the one who spots the Handler and Lila). This is a positive development! It’s definitely one of his frustrations in s1 that he’s constantly looked at as being only slightly less helpless than Vanya. His participation in the action scenes tends to be through either luck (good or bad) or his own insistence.

Regarding the other aspect of your question, I’ve been reading up on PTSD for over a decade so I can write fiction involving characters who have it, but writing it believably in fiction is a whole different beast from meta. I can speak about a lot of psychological shit that I experience for myself—anxiety/depression, alcoholism, codependency, narcissistic abuse, panic attacks, dissociation, dysregulation, bunch of shit like that—but I don’t have PTSD. And I definitely haven’t been to war. Most of the reading I’ve done on PTSD has been more of the domestic type rather than what gets experienced by people in the military.

So I can’t tell you exactly what’s happening in Klaus’ head that allows him to function in this situation despite his combat trauma. I can tell you psychology isn’t an exact science. Sometimes, your brain works in a situation when other times, it doesn’t. I can speak in very broad terms, though, and some of it has more to do with history than with psychology.

At the time of the Vietnam War, PTSD was called “battle fatigue.” Before WWII, it was called “shell shock.” In all cases, it was considered a legitimate and debilitating medical diagnosis. Today, what was called “battle fatigue” or “shell shock” can be separated between acute/combat stress reaction, and the chronic condition of PTSD. PTSD, in turn, is being understood as one of a variety of trauma reactions, and in some diagnostics, is taking on some variety of its own. It is standard practice, from what I can find, to separate a soldier experiencing a combat stress reaction from the war, same as with any other major wound or illness. They are not considered to be in a fit state to carry on. Vietnam was an especially bad war for this, with some estimates saying 30% of Vietnam veterans developed PTSD. Yet here’s Klaus, functioning well in combat.

Klaus shows a lot of signs of what psychologists call complex PTSD, or C-PTSD. This is its own diagnosis in the ICD, but not in the American DSM. To American psychologists, it’s sort of a concept rather than a diagnosis, an idea of a variety of PTSD unique to people with chronic, repeated trauma. C-PTSD has a much stronger emphasis than PTSD on insecure attachment (his longest relationship lasted three weeks), dissociative episodes (check), emotion dysregulation (HELLA check), cognitive issues (has difficulty with attention and task completion even when sober), substance use and other pathological self-soothing (all the fucking time), low self-image (continually devalues his ability to contribute and admits to not liking himself), and an extremely pervasive sense of shame. PTSD is more about fear and hypervigilance; C-PTSD is more about shame. People with C-PTSD are more likely to be revictimized than people with PTSD—for example, someone having been in one abusive relationship for months or years is prone to getting in another abusive relationship. People with C-PTSD are also prone to having a certain preoccupation with the perpetrator—something essentially all of the Hargreeves children have, wherein their father is either overly idealized (as by Luther in season one), credited with far too much power (look at Klaus’ terrified reaction in 1.01 when he thinks he has summoned Reginald the moment Five returns), or the subject of revenge fantasies (Diego is the worst about this).

Vietnam wasn’t what gave Klaus PTSD (as the first nightmares and flashbacks we see from him happen prior to his Vietnam trip), but the latest in a series of traumas he has experienced in his life. I cannot say whether that makes a difference or not, it’s just a variance between him and other people with combat PTSD. Moreover, this battle in Dallas is presumably a situation they all went into knowing they weren’t coming out again. The mindset here from them all may be that they’re well beyond the goal of survival here; rather, they’re just taking as many of the bastards down as they can, possibly to make time for civilians to escape. Again, not sure if this makes a difference, it’s just another variance.

Finally, Klaus’ specific Vietnam trauma seems less about his own life being in danger, less about the sheer level of violence, pressure, and overstimulation overwhelming him to the point where he couldn’t function, and more about the loss of Dave—it’s the one part of Vietnam we’ve seen him have flashbacks to. People seldom understand that witnessing something can be as traumatic as being the victim of it yourself. Some peoples’ trauma comes from being shot; in Klaus’ case, it was watching someone he loved get shot and die. Once again, not sure whether it would make a difference. It seems doubtful to me that it would, since I would think he'd have similar triggers regardless.

The reality is that nobody’s mental illness has ever read the rulebook. Nothing is ever a certainty in terms of how someone with PTSD will react; even triggers are highly prone to change. The degree of it changes as well, if I’ve learned anything from my friends who have it. Whatever’s going on in Klaus’ head that’s allowing him to function in this situation probably boils down to “brains are chemical soup.” I don’t think this analysis narrowed much of anything down so much as took it apart even further, but it’s my honest opinion of the scene. If I were the writer in this situation, I’d feel like the only really important thing would be that Klaus is functioning, and likely not thinking very hard about it or questioning why he is functioning.

But the importance of the scene, generally, is that it gives us a glimpse of what this team looks like at its best. I suspect it could also be to demonstrate the power caps the individual characters have, if they are indeed going the route of power caps. If that’s the case, what we’re seeing is that Klaus can summon armies of the dead. That’s what we’re seeing him work toward.

[sokkagatekeeper]

what do you mean when you say that zuko is a pessimistic idealist and sokka is a pessimistic realist? i love your analyses and i’d love to hear more of your thoughts on that!!! (also love how you say sokka and zuko are perfect for each other because they’re both grumps lol)

i do not remember saying that however it does sound like something i would say lmao. i think what i (would) mean with the statement “zuko is a pessimistic idealist” is that he grew up... idk if unappreciated is the exact word, but in the militaristic hypermasculine society that valued traits that he did not have in comparison to azula, zuko was always at a disadvantage and he had to run for it, sometimes make rash decisions as they were the better/only decisions he could make at all in order to be appreciated and most times it did not pay off which resulted in the entire mess that is zuko’s personality. for all of this, zuko has a tendency to see the worst part of the situation he’s in (coming to mind atm ‘it blew up in my face — like everything always does!’ ‘this city is a prison’ more or less?), so in other words he’s grumpy and kinda sour as hell, all the time.

but at the same time, zuko has a certain... idea of the world, a kind and caring heart, a strong sense of justice, an overall vision for a world that’s good. when zuko comes to understand the fire nation is actually actively pushing back this vision, and he practically immediately turns away from its ideals and pursues a philosophy and a group that actually fit his ideas of what’s better for the world. zuko spent three years at sea looking for a myth, in hopes that finding it would finally put an end to his suffering, making him and katara the only people in the world who truly believed the avatar was still out there. zuko is always expecting everything to blow up in his face like it often did throughout his childhood, and he sees the worst part of the situation before anything else but he always pushes back to make it better, or to what he believes would be making it better.

my favorite example of this is during the blue spirit after zuko finds out zhao got the avatar before him, and he gives iroh a speech about how all hope is lost for him and he will never ever have love honor or happiness ever again, and about five hours later he’s behind a theatre mask with two swords against the world rescuing the avatar just so he can capture this avatar himself in the future, while also letting him go afterwards because it’s not honorable to take him in the easy manner he could take him at that precise moment(???) and that was just nuts. therefore pessimistic idealist.

on the other hand there’s sokka.

sokka is a pessimist through and through, a serial complainer, a paranoid neurotic strategist. sokka grew up in disadvantage to the rest of the world and overshadowed by a his little sister — not because katara was a bender and sokka was not, but because katara was the last bender they had left. i’ve talked about this before but basically it’s no wonder katara is a solid optimistic idealist with all the hope and faith and determination in the world while sokka is a pessimistic realist and pragmatic depressed cynical bastard. presumably his village but also sokka put himself at disadvantage. it is safe to assume sokka sacrificed his own uhh. hope? naivetè? innocence? for katara to keep hers and in order to protect her better — after all katara is the last southern waterbender, their collective hero, and you can’t have a hero with no hope, you can’t have a dead hero. and also sokka is an eldest sibling, it’s instinctual.

now don’t get me wrong, sokka has a huge heart full of love and devotion and wonder. he is an inventor, an artist, a scientist. sokka is filled with ideas, but he is always waiting for the lowest blow, he is always waiting for a disaster to happen (and with a good reason!). sokka believes optimists are liars, he thinks destiny and fate is more or less bullshit, he has a pragmatic and careful approach to almost every situation he’s presented with and even though he has a clear sense of morality, he is willing to make certain sacrifices as are the demands of war – where zuko is willing to save zhao without hesitation, who tried to kill him multiple times and whom he had been fighting not one minute ago, for example.

sokka wants the world to be a better place, and at the same time he has little trouble turning away from people who aren’t in any immediate danger even if they are suffering because he has more pressing matters at hand (the painted lady), he obviously would want the avatar to come back and save them, but aang being a complete stranger signaling to a fire nation ship is most definitely a valid justification for sokka to banish him (the boy in the iceberg/the avatar returns i don't remember lol). among many many many other situations in which sokka is technically right, even if it doesn’t fit other characters’ idealistic views or it doesn’t make for a good story, sokka is the realist they all need in order to survive.

also i admit ‘perfect for each other’ can be kind of a stretch and i believe that it being because they’re both grumpy is kinda reductive since that can also be the basis of mai and zuko’s relationship and we all know what i think of those two aksjaks (this is NOT mai slander. # mai deserves better 2k21). however i do think sokka and zuko fit together because they have different types of emotional constipation and they actively push each other to be more balanced in order to reach to the other. sokka wants to believe deep down, and the fact that he is in a story even if he doesn’t really believe it plays its cards sometimes which translates into the universe’s obsession with sokka, and zuko is destiny fan #1 so he can give sokka an overemotional speech once in a while that sokka will ruthlessly dismiss and dismantle verbally but that at the same time will warm his heart and help him loosen up on his scheduled cerebral to a default existence on the long-run; zuko needs grounding once in a while which he usually got from iroh or at the very least iroh made an attempt to get through him, and sokka is intellectually crude enough to give zuko a reality check while making himself understood and because of their shared wavelength he can do this without crushing all of zuko’s hopes and dreams in the process.

they are also two eldest siblings one with depression the other filled with rage and they are the only real ‘pessimists’ in the gaang, so while yes, zuko will take action to solve problems he will also complain about it forever more and he can do that with sokka. together they can yell at god, complain about jocks, complain about prescriptivists, bond over their very niche taste in art that nobody ever understands, and absolutely tear apart everything that doesn’t fit their competence standard (it’s a very high fucking standard, those are two grumpy neurodivergent people) among many other grump-activities that seem to make them miserable but that actually serve both of them to validate their annoyed kind of love for the world and it makes both of them really happy :)

[kirain]

Hazbin Hotel and VivziePop Drama

I've been hearing/seeing a lot of drama concerning Hazbin Hotel and it's creator VivziePop, and while I don't know her personally or really care what people think, I do hate slander and the spread of misinformation. Truly nothing in this world upsets me more than when people believe rumours while making no effort to fact check, and that's exactly what's happening right now. That said, I wanted to try and clear up some of the rumours going around about Vivzie and the show, because I think some of them are absolutely outrageous and need to be addressed.

1. Vivzie hired an abuser onto the show.

Now, I’m not here to burn anyone at the stake, especially since I don’t know anything about Chris Niosi (the alleged abuser), who I believe openly admitted to the allegations? Regardless, this is a moot point. He’s not credited anywhere at the end of the episode. So either he was booted before production wrapped up or he had nothing to do with the show in the first place.

2. Vivzie supports bestiality.

Admittedly I thought this one might be true, since she draws so many anthropomorphic animals. In the very least, I figured she was probably a furry, but I haven't seen any evidence supporting this accusation either. Near as I can tell, this rumour started for two reasons. One, because of her famous Zoophobia comic, which revolves around a therapist named Cameron who gets assigned to work with human-like animals. Ironically, poor Cameron suffers from crippling zoophobia, which makes for some pretty decent comedy. I didn't read the whole comic because, quite frankly, it’s not my cup of tea and I just don’t have the time. But from what I saw there are no examples of bestiality anywhere in its contents.

Two, this message, which blew up all over social media:

To me, this just proves that people are more interested in virtue signalling than checking to see if their claims are actually true. Everything about this message is 100% false, which I’ll touch on in my next point.

3. Vivzie is a pedophile and she’s drawn child porn.

This is hands down the worst allegation and holy shit, I really wish people would stop using it to defame someone when they don't have any proof. This is a life-ruining accusation and you're disgusting if you believe it based solely on hearsay. This rumour began to spread when Vivzie allegedly shipped the two underage characters in the above photo and drew them NSFW-style. At the time, one character was 19 while the other was 14, and the relationship was a very illegal student-teacher relationship.

This is WRONG! The characters were not 14 and 19, they were actually 18 and 19, the legal age of consent! Additionally, the relationship wasn't student-teacher. One character is a student and the other is Alumni (a student teacher). This one pisses me off the most because it’s obvious the person who sent that message didn’t even bother to conduct any research. They said, “He’s a teacher, she’s a child.” Both characters are MALE!

Since then, Vivzie has apologised for any NSFW art she drew in the past and stated that it's not a reflection of her art today, and I'm inclined to believe her. Almost every artist has drawn NSFW content at some point in their career, and hers wasn't even distasteful. Other than this one example, there is no evidence anywhere that suggests she’s drawn “child porn”. In fact, she’s never even drawn explicit NSFW.

Please stop spreading this rumour. It’s dangerous and completely incorrect.

4. Vivzie said the "N" word!

No, she didn’t. It was a fabricated tweet. That is all.

5. Vivzie is copyright striking every video that criticises her!

No she isn't. YouTube’s DMCA is automatically striking people who are using full clips without permission. Vivzie has gone public several times, telling people exactly how to avoid getting a copy strike from the algorithm, which is something she absolutely does not have to do. At this point, she doesn't owe you anything. In my opinion, she should just sit back and watch these channels burn.

6. Vivzie copies and traces other artists’ work.

This is another one I’ve seen going around, but I looked into it as thoroughly as I could and failed to find any concrete evidence to support the allegations. As of right now, there are only two examples of Vivzie “copying” or “tracing” other artists’ work, and both of them can be explained. The first is a gif she made with a character from her Zoophobia comic, which looked a lot like the girl from ME!ME!ME!:

Damn, that’s pretty incriminating. She obviously stole-- oh, wait. This gif was part of a ME!ME!ME! MEP (multi editor’s project) and Vivzie didn’t take full credit, despite the fact that it’s not even a direct trace. It’s supposed to look like the original, which she fully cited. The second example comes from a short dance sequence from her Timber video, which seems to have been inspired by several Disney movies. As Vivzie herself stated, that was an homage to the original animations. Lots of artists and shows do this, including the beloved Stephen Universe series.

Regardless, this doesn’t count as stealing character designs or plagiarising someone’s work. It’s meant to be respectful, an admiration of other projects. Other than these two instances, however, there is no evidence of her tracing or stealing other people’s art. From what I’ve discovered, all other designs she’s been accused of “stealing” are characters she bought and paid for. They’re quite literally HER characters.

7. Vivzie supports problematic creators.

I’m getting really tired of guilt by association. Vivzie follows and enjoys some controversial figures, but who cares? We can argue all day about whether or not the accusations against them are true, but it ultimately has nothing to do with the show or Vivzie as a person. I do the exact same thing, to be honest-- follow and listen to people on all sides so I can learn, understand, and form my own opinions. The fact that some people think this is bad, to me, is absolutely mesmerising. Vivzie doesn’t control what the people she follows post, and if they do something overly questionable she publicly criticises and denounces it.

From Vivzie:

Now that that’s been dealt with, I’d like to address some complaints/claims about the actual show.

8. Vaggie is an angry Latina stereotype and a lesbian stereotype. Vivzie is appropriating Hispanic culture and misrepresenting the gay for profit.

First off, I see a lot of people passing around yet more misinformation regarding Vivzie's race. So many people seem to think she's white? Well, I'm here to tell you they're wrong. Very incorrect. Vivzie is in fact Latina, and Vaggie is meant to mirror some of her own personality traits.

Second, who is Vaggie mad at? Context matters, and if we take a look at the episode, we see that Vaggie is literally only mad at two specific people: Angel Dust and Alastor. Why? Well, for starters, it's her girlfriend's dream to run a rehab hotel for sinners, and Angel Dust nearly demolishes that dream single-handedly. Vaggie has every right to be over-the-top vitriolic. Then there's Alastor, a known sadist, narcissist, and murderer who loves trapping people in his nefarious schemes. He invites himself in, effectively takes over the hotel, and pushes both her and Charlie aside. At one point he even sexually assaults her by slapping her butt during his musical number. So yeah, I think her seething ire is totally justified. Keep in mind, however, that when she's around Charlie she's calm, collected, and happy. I wouldn't call that a stereotype.

Thirdly, the lesbian stereotypes. I keep hearing this argument but I really don't see it. Both Vaggie and Charlie have so much personality and trust for each other. Maybe I'm wrong, but the stereotype I know always totes a more butch, tomboyish woman with a ditsy, innocent, naive woman. Charlie is optimistic, but she isn't stupid. She refuses to shake Alastor’s hand because she knows he’s likely trying to screw her over. She’s also not entirely innocent herself and uses words like “fuck” and “shit”. I also wouldn’t call Vaggie butch or tomboyish. She has a cute, girly presentation, complete with a pink ribbon in her hair, lace stockings, and a dress. She's protective of her girlfriend, as I think we all are with our partners, and there's nothing wrong with that. They're flawed characters, as every character is meant to be. This isn't a problem.

9. The show is racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, blah, blah, blah.

I’m amazed this is even an argument. The show is supposed to be a dark comedy that takes place in HELL. You know, the place the worst of the worst end up after they die? What were you expecting? Everyone gets a shot or two fired at them, but that doesn't make them bad characters nor does it make the show itself horrible. Take, for example, Katie Killjoy, the news reporter so many people are up in arms about. She says she doesn’t “touch the gays” because she has “standards”. Well, here’s a newsflash of my own: we’re not supposed to like her! She’s an antagonist. Not to mention ten seconds later Charlie insults her and isn’t the least bit slighted by her pretentious attitude. The characters are strong and don’t take shit from anyone, because to some degree they’re all terrible people who can throw down when it’s called for.

Obviously if you don’t like the show or think it’s offensive, I’m probably not going to change your mind. That’s perfectly fine. You’re entitled to your opinions and you don’t have to watch the show. Just stop lying and stop trying to take it away from everybody else. Stop attacking Vivzie and spreading misinformation without checking the facts. I realise a lot of people probably aren’t trying to be vindictive and only want to do something good, but just remember this: the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

[chibsytelford]

Queen of my Heart

* GIF CREDIT TO CREATOR *

word count - 2139

warnings - slight mention of strangulation, murder, swearing, angst - I think that’s it. 

a/n - i haven’t described reader at all. I’m actually really nervous to post this for some reason. I am sure this is the longest thing I have written yet, and idk just nervous. Reblogs and comments are welcomed, and if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist just let me know!

P.s I didn’t mean for it to be this long, and it is kinda based on the song Queen of my Heart by Westlife (my guilty pleasure). Italics are flashbacks and the lyrics.

You knew from the start that getting into a relationship with Angel Reyes might not have been the best decision. Pasts will do that to you. You knew when you first laid eyes on him, that inside he was hiding his pain. The only reason you noticed it was because you were hiding the exact same pain as him. Normally, you avoided guys with baggage, because frankly you could barely deal with your own, never mind someone else’s, but something about him just kept you gravitating more towards him, as each day passed.

It started out in his father’s butcher shop, you had just finished work and you were in the mood for some steak, so you finally checked out la carniceria and you knew the second you walked in you were in trouble. All you wanted was a bit of steak, but you left with (not that you were complaining) Angel Reyes’ phone number. He gave you some standard cheesy pick up line, his smile not quite reaching his eyes, and you knew as soon as he opened his mouth that you were done for, your ‘I don’t do baggage rule’ going straight out the shop door.

It took you a few days to text him. You actually drafted up a ‘Why I should text Angel Reyes list’ and a ‘Why I shouldn’t text Angel Reyes list’ and funnily enough, the list that had more on it was the ‘Why I shouldn’t list’ but as it turns out, the lists were pointless, because you text him anyway.

Your first date you walked around the streets of Santo Padre, just chatting away about life in general, what you did for a job, what he did for a job (he didn’t tell you that much, just that he was in a club with some other men) and of course you didn’t want to pry, it was the first date and all. You spoke about pretty much everything, except the past. It was too early for that. At the end of it, he walked you home, and left you on your door step, wishing you had invited him in, wishing you had kissed him, wishing you had asked him on a second date. But you didn’t need to wait long for a second date.

2 days after your first date, you were on the back of Angel’s motorbike, both hands wrapped tightly around his torso. He had insisted on taking his bike, he wanted you to enjoy the thrill of it as much as he did, and if you were being honest, it was absolutely thrilling, as well as absolutely terrifying. He drove you both to a small forest, where you enjoyed a picnic and the scenery and the attention that Angel was giving you. It was then you decided to pry, just a little bit.

“Tell me Angel, what secret are you carrying?” You asked catching him off guard.

“What makes you think I’m carrying any?” He responded, popping a strawberry in his mouth, conveniently answering a question with another question.

“Honestly? The first time I saw you, when you gave me that hideous pick up line” you both laughed at the memory “the smile you gave me afterwards, it was genuine, but it wasn’t quite a full smile, you know?”

Angel took a moment to gather his thoughts. First he rubbed his beard, then he rubbed his neck, and then he fiddled with his fingers. You placed your hand over his, comforting him, silently telling him there was no rush to answer the question.

He sighed, and slightly shifted his body so he could look at you. “Well, uh, the thing is, I’m not good at this shit, feelings” you could see the pain etched on his face, the way his eyebrows twitched and the way he couldn’t meet your eyes for more than a second.

“Do you want me to go first?” you softly asked, brushing your fingers across his ringed hand, soothing him, and yourself. You knew if you expected him to open up so soon, you had to give him something back.

Angel swiftly nodded, and relaxed slightly, and it was his turn to rub circled on your hand, silently telling you he was listening.

“I came to Santo Padre to get away from my family, my step father specifically”. You took a deep breath and continued “he was horrible. But for some reason, my mother couldn’t bring herself to leave him, something about love. I don’t know” you hated telling this story, if you could call it that, but something about Angel just made you want to tell him everything. “One day, I got home and found him on top of my mother, his hands around her throat, and so I grabbed a kitchen knife, and I stabbed him until I knew he was dead.” Angel’s body tensed and he stopped caressing your hand for a split second, shocked at your revelation. You pulled your hand away instantly, wrapping them around your body.

“Shit Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry you had to go through that” Angel murmured, pulling you into him and placing a soft kiss on your temple, but you could tell his demeanour had changed slightly.

“My mother luckily vouched for my version of events, and so I got away with it, but that feeling of killing someone never leaves you, it takes over your mind and soul” you felt Angel nodding at your remark, like he was admitting he had killed someone too. “Anyway, I stayed there for another few years, in that godforsaken house, but I knew, deep down, as much as she tried to hide it, my mother looked at me differently, so I got out of there, and came here a few years ago, I’ve been laying low, still trying to wrap my head around what I done, that’s probably why you’ve never seen me before. It was fate that took me to your father’s shop” you nudged him in the shoulder, trying to lift the mood slightly.

“That it was” Angel replied back, “And I guess now it’s my turn huh” you nodded in agreement. “Well, I lost my mother, Marisol, years ago. She was murdered” As soon as Angel uttered those words, you knew why he had tensed earlier and you knew why he was just that little bit colder towards you. Because you had murdered someone, and his mother was murdered. “We found the guy, but we kept him alive. He was ordered to do it” You weren’t sure if Angel would want you to touch him, so you kept your hands to yourself, waiting for him to continue his story. “I carry the pain of her death with me every single day, I don’t think I’ll ever get over it” he admitted.

“Of course you won’t, it’s your family, your mother and that will always stick with you in your heart” you said, reassuring him that it was normal. “It seems we are both pretty fucked up, huh?” Angel commented, lifting the mood once again ever so slightly.

“Do you look at me differently now? Knowing that I murdered someone?  I did to my stepfather what someone did to your beloved mother” you questioned.

Angel took a second to answer. “You had your reasons, reasons I agree with, so no, I don’t feel differently towards you” but as Angel said that, you were second guessing him, and you always would.

After your second date, when you got home, Angel asked you to officially be his girlfriend. You said yes, but there was still a small part of you that thought it was a bad idea, and that it could only end badly. You thought Angel only asked you to be his girl because you both shared stories of your past and you clicked together, and you said yes, because you really liked him, but also because you thought you deserved happiness, and he did too, even though you still carried the thought inside you that Angel looked at you a little different after your revelation. You knew you were being selfish, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

 Recently Angel had been spending more time with the club, over time you had learned completely what they did, and you stood by Angel. Everyone had their reasons for doing things, and you knew that better than most people. You felt that he was avoiding you more than usual, staying out later, leaving earlier in the mornings, barely responding to texts, and something inside you, just didn’t really care anymore. You had had a wonderful couple years being by Angel’s side, but you always knew that something like this might happen.

You quickly fired a text to Angel telling him to meet you at your place. The forest where your second date took place.  

He arrived on his bike 5 minutes after you, and you watched him walk towards you. It seemed to take an eternity until he was standing in front of you. It was the same place, but you felt like a completely different person standing here now, a few years on.

“Hey” you said, letting out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Thanks for coming”

“Of course I came” he answered back, rubbing the back of his neck. You wondered if he was feeling the same as you. It would make the whole thing a bit easier if he did.

“I just wanna-“  Angel cut you off, holding a hand up to stop you talking. “Can I go first?” You nodded at him, secretly glad he wanted to.

“I love you, I really do, but I think you know as well as me, we stopped working months ago, I’m not good at this shit, feelings” you both said together, causing a small smile from the man stood in front of you. “Exactly, I don’t know if you’ve noticed I’ve been distant lately, the shit with the club has taken over my life completely, but I think I’m just realising now, that we jumped into this too quickly” Angel revealed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You nodded, acknowledging what he said and taking a second to gather your thoughts.

“I mean, Angel, I love you too, but I have to admit, you’re right. I should be angry you’ve been coming home late, I should be angry that you barely reply to my texts, but honestly I haven’t been. I think we did rush into this like you said, after our second date, where we both revealed our pasts, I think we took comfort in knowing that our pasts were out there, and we weren’t being judged. I know that now”. You both visibly relaxed slightly, and the atmosphere shifted too. It was calm. Nice.

Angel made the first move, grabbing your hand and placing a soft kiss on your palm. You closed your eyes for a second, engraving the memory of the kiss in your mind.

“Thank you Y/N, for trusting me with your secret, for listening to my pain and past, for just being you. I know we didn’t work out, but I just want you to know, I will always remember you.” Angel wiped a stray tear that had managed to escape his eyes. “Fuck, look at me” he laughed.

So here we stand in our secret place

Where the sound of the crowd is so far away

You take my hand, and it feels like home

We both understand, it where we belong

So do I say, do I say goodbye

We both have our dreams we both want to fly

So let’s take tonight, to carry us through the lonely times

“God Angel, you’ve got me crying now” you laughed back also wiping away your tears.  “I’m glad we met. You accepted me for who I am, and for that I will always thank you, and cherish you. Who knows, maybe under different circumstances, we would have worked out, but I can honestly say I’m thankful for the years we have spent together, it just wasn’t meant to be”.

You and Angel gave each other one last hug, one last smile, one last look. “Take care, querida, I’ll always remember you” Angel whispered, placing your hand over his heart.  He then let go and headed back to his bike. You watched him walk away, you watched him climb onto the bike and you watched him drive away from you. You were sad of course, but you knew that it was for the best.

@rebelwrites​ @mayans-sauce​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @encounterthepast​ @angelreyesgirl​ @starrynite7114​ @jadesamhart​ @fangirlingaesthetics​ @trulysuccubus​ @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @queenbeered​ @lauraashley93​ @deeandbobbymcgee​ @shelliechen​ @calif0rnia-lovers​ @yourwonkywriter​ @peaches007​ @scuzmunkie​ @blessedboo​ @sheeshgivemeabreak​ @sadeyesgf​ @anangelwhodidntfall​ @gemini0410​ @rocketqueen​ @destynelseclipsa​ @xx--day-dreamer--xx​ @talicat713​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ 

I'll always look back as I walk away

Memories will last for eternity

And all of our tears will be lost in the rain

When I found my way back to your arms again

But until that day, you know you are

The Queen of my heart