#like Eric can do so much better than that waste man

[tophsazulas]

The only people I will never in a million years ship Eric Forman with: Fez, Hyde, & Kelso

[rogue205]

Am I the only one who thinks that Eric Kripke is dragging out the Soldier Boy potential return just to get fans of Jensen Ackles to keep tuning in? Because I do. I did read online that Kripke apparently didn’t think much of Jensen during the whole Supernatural run, constantly suppressing Dean Winchester’s development just so he wouldn’t become better than Sam(now I’m a bit worried about the rumors concerning Kripke trying to get Jared Padalecki to come onto the show, especially if Jensen does return). Hope that’s wrong, but I could believe it too.

But I thought he at least respected Jensen a little bit more than to give him a stupid write off like that. Then I remembered what he did to Dean at the end of Supernatural.

*********

Here, *everyone* basically joins up to take out Soldier Boy. It kinda makes sense a bit for Butcher because of Ryan but he and Starlight have such beef against Homelander, I really don’t believe they would join forces with him instead for anything. And it’s partially Butchers own damn fault that Ryan is in Homelander’s grasp in the first place.

I also have to laugh that some people apparently honestly think that Soldier Boy is even worse than Homelander. Just saying.

Why do people think this? According to Screen Rant, it’s because he was unmoved when Homelander got attached due to his man-child mindset and even introduced him to Ryan. Oh and he called Homelander “a f*cking disappointment” and hurt his feelings. Also from the same article, “He’s Homelanders father! He shouldn’t be mean to him like that!” Um, no. Homelander was a test tube baby who was created from Soldier Boy’s DNA without his knowledge, it’s not like they had an actual relationship. 🙄

Homelander has killed lots of people simply because he can, he feels like it and to make himself look better. He has no regard for human life and views them as things or “other” while he sees himself as a god because of his powers.

On the other hand, Soldier Boy seems more oblivious to any casualties he’s responsible for even if he does have a flippant attitude “because it was war”. Plus from what we saw in the show, the two times that Soldier Boy kills lots of people, it was because of a PTSD triggered flashback and not on purpose. His Payback teammates are a different story considering the fact that they betrayed him and sold him to the USSR where he was tortured and experimented on for 40 years. And I say this even being fully aware of how much of a dick he was to them first. Soldier Boy is not an innocent but he’s not the worst either.

Also unlike Homelander, it does seem that Soldier Boy actually has some morals, honor and does hold up his side of the deals that he makes even when those he made the deal with turn on him instead. He was betrayed AGAIN and this time it was basically for no reason other than to write him off.

Quite frankly, Soldier Boy could’ve been utilized for so much more, but he was wasted as a character. And that is so disappointing. I mean what was the point of giving him a new ability that is established as being able to neutralize the powers of other supes if he was just gonna get frozen in storage again.

I’m sure I can run more, but I think I might end it there and edit later. 🤷‍♀️

EDIT 1: now I’ve seen theories that this is possiblely just the beginning of Soldier Boy’s “Winter Soldier” because season three was his “Captain America” phase. Hmmmmm….

[imreallyloveleee]

ooooo is your last post about “i feel like i win when i lose”???

sorry anon, it's not - it's about a better call saul fic.

however, this reminded me that I got another ask about that story which I forgot to answer a few weeks ago. it has been quite a while since i've worked on it. I have no idea when/if there will be an update, if I'm being completely honest with you. I feel bad about it! but under the cut are some sections from what I do have written of the last chapter. hope you enjoy em <3

Jughead accepts a cold beer from Munroe, settles back onto one of the open loungers, and actually has a pretty good time chilling with the bros until – inevitably – someone suggests they see what the bridesmaids are up to.  

“I dunno.” Archie pauses in the midst of slathering more sunscreen across his chest, something he’s been doing every fifteen minutes or so, likely at Veronica’s behest. “I think Ronnie wanted them to have a girls’ day.” 

Eric opens his mouth to protest, but Reggie jumps in. “I know what you’re thinking, bro, but none of them are single. Well, except for Betty.”

Jughead focuses with deliberate intensity on the label of his beer bottle as the others weigh the pros and cons of crossing the bride’s boundary line for the sake of flirting with her hot maid of honor. He hasn’t spoken with Betty since a week before her move to Michigan for the journalism fellowship, and even that was just a couple of stilted text exchanges – congrats, be sure to buy some good snow boots, ha ha. In the meantime, nearly eight months have passed.

And Jughead’s regretted every minute. 

“Hey.” Archie nudges Jughead’s leg with his foot, jerking his chin towards the house. “Wanna help me with some snacks?”

They both know what he’s actually doing, and Jughead feels a rush of warmth for his friend – his best friend, who’s getting married to the love of his life tomorrow, and deserves better than a sadsack excuse for a best man who wastes a free trip to the Caribbean so he can mope over a non-relationship that ended before it even began.

“Do you even have to ask?”

In the kitchen, Jughead sits on one of the swiveling counter stools and watches as Archie attempts to curate a charcuterie plate. 

“So, Betty asked how you were doing.” Archie tilts his head slightly as he flops a slice of prosciutto to one side, then the other. 

Jughead ignores the faint flutter of hope in his chest. Most likely she was just wondering if she’d have to walk down the aisle with a brooding basket case at her best friends’ wedding. “What’d you tell her?”

Archie shrugs. “Not much. I figured you can tell her yourself at the rehearsal dinner tonight.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” Leaning across the counter, Jughead snags a green olive and pops it into his mouth. “I guess I can.” 

“What happened with you two, anyway? Ron was freaking out for weeks that you were gonna, like, propose, and then nothing.” 

“Nothing happened, we just…didn’t happen.” Jughead reaches forward again, this time retrieving a block of cheese and an entire sleeve of organic rosemary-sea salt crackers. “Shit happens. Or doesn’t. Whatever.”

If Archie’s skeptical, he’s too preoccupied arranging slices of salami to dig further. “Whatever you say, man.” 

“Not everyone gets the picture perfect happily-ever-after, Archibald.” Jughead sandwiches a hunk of cheddar between two crackers, eyeballs it, and crams the whole thing into his mouth. “You’re lucky everything just slid into place with Veronica. You got off easy.” 

There’s a pause as Archie frowns down at his mess of a charcuterie plate. “I don’t know if I’d call it easy. There was a lot of stuff we had to work through.” 

It’s a funny thing to hear, coming from a man who’s standing in the kitchen of the villa on the private island that his future father-in-law rented out for an entire week, while he heaps jamón Ibérico onto a hand-carved wooden board for a bunch of sun-drunk bros who’d be just as happy scarfing down a bag of pork rinds. But it is Archie’s wedding, so: he’ll humor him.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“Like the fact that Ronnie’s dad hated me when we first got together because my dad dated her mom back in high school.”

Right. He’d forgotten about that. “Okay, sure, but that was just –”

“And then there was the year when Hiram coached the wrestling team. That was rough.” Archie shakes his head a little. “And the year after that, when I interned for him. I still have nightmares sometimes. And that time where he wanted to buy up the south side and turn it into SoDale – I mean, you know, Jug. You were there.”

“Fair enough. You didn’t hit the in-laws jackpot. But –” 

“And then there was college.” Archie continues as though he hadn’t even heard him. “Long distance was hard. And right after graduation is when Ronnie found out about Hermosa and went through that whole identity crisis thing. She broke up with me for a couple months that year, remember?”

He hadn’t, actually, until this moment. That was the same year that he’d moved to Chicago. It had taken a while before his old friendships had settled into a new rhythm that bridged the hundreds of miles between them, which was his therapist’s very nice way of saying he’d been kind of self-centered that year. 

“And then there was the thing with the bear –”

“Okay, okay.” Jughead waves both hands in defeat. “You moved mountains to be with Veronica. I get it.” 

“I’m just saying. If she’s worth it, sometimes you have to put the work in.” Eyes wide with wonder, Archie holds out a jar of cornichons. “Hey, have you ever tried these baby pickles?” 

A light sprinkle of raindrops catches Jughead just as he slips through the door to the ballroom. 

To one side of the airy, open room, Archie, Veronica, and their parents are huddled together with a severe-looking woman who can only be the wedding planner. To the other, the rest of the wedding party is mingling in clusters of two or three. 

By some miracle – or curse, he can’t decide which – Cheryl Blossom spots him first. “Look what the cat finally dragged in.” 

Scowling, Jughead glances at the time on his phone as he reaches the edge of the group. “I’m not late, Cheryl.” 

She rolls her eyes, flicking a lock of long red hair over one shoulder. “I never said you were.” 

“She’s just jealous you got one of the beachfront suites for being the best man. I got the other one.” 

He turns around, and his heart skips a beat when it’s Betty looking back at him, a hint of nerves in her smile. “Hi, Jughead.” 

“Betty.” He swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. “Hi.”

She looks radiant: eyes bright, cheeks rosy, hair pinned back in loose waves that fall just past her shoulders. He doesn’t know whether or not she wants him to touch her, but thankfully she doesn’t leave it up to him, stepping forward for a brief, perfunctory hug. 

“I’m not jealous, Cousin Betty,” Cheryl huffs. “I simply find it unacceptable that our hosts would play favorites with two single people who could be sharing a bed themselves while those of us who actually need the space are forced into a room the size of a two-cent postage stamp. Especially while my TT is in such a delicate condition.”

Before either of them can say another word, Cheryl stalks away in a huff. Jughead looks to Betty in mild alarm. “Is Toni okay? Was she in an accident or something?”

“Toni’s fine. She’s pregnant. But she’s only four months along, so you can barely even tell. They don’t need any more space.” Betty waves a hand in dismissal. “Anyway, how have you been? Are you settling in to the city?” 

Betty’s tone is genuine, curious – but also distant. Like it’s been eight months since they’ve spoken, yes, but more than that – like all the little intimacies they’d shared before have been washed away. A polite, friendly blank slate. 

It feels like his heart’s been crumpled up in a ball and tossed into the wastebasket. 

And it’s his own goddamn fault. 

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

From here on out, just assume a running content warning for ableism and racism/eugenics. I will flag anything new or out of the ordinary, but this is a book about ableism and eugenics, so those threads pop up everywhere.

Okay, we're back at it. We pick back up with chapter 8, when Eric and Kilmeny have their arranged meeting. Kilmeny is still being described as a child every other sentence. This is a thing LMM does when she wants to convey ~innocence~. Cecilia Gay (you know, a 26-year-old woman who'd had a child) was also constantly described as childlike and innocent. It grates on my more modern sensibilities, but it does feel more like literary shorthand than like LMM literally saying Kilmeny is a kid.

We waste no time re-establishing Eric as a jerk. "Somehow Eric did not like her references to Neil. The idea of that handsome, low-born boy seeing Kilmeny every day..." Neil, of course, has committed the dastardly crime of having the Wrong Parents. Eric can't just be jealous of Neil because he has a crush on Kilmeny and so is jealous of every single man who sees her (already an unpleasant character trait), Eric has to be superior and condescending about how Neil is the Wrong kind of people to breathe Kilmeny's air. 

Anyway, so Kilmeny is magic:

"What divine music she lured out of the old violin—merry and sad, gay and sorrowful by turns, music such as the stars of morning might have made singing together, music that the fairies might have danced to in their revels among the green hills or on yellow sands, music that might have mourned over the grave of a dead hope. Then she drifted into a still sweeter strain. As he listened to it he realized that the whole soul and nature of the girl were revealing themselves to him through her music—the beauty and purity of her thoughts, her childhood dreams and her maiden reveries. There was no thought of concealment about her; she could not help the revelation she was unconscious of making."

Kilmeny is entirely self-taught -- she said previously that Neil taught her how to hold a bow but everything else she figured out on her own. Given that the violin is one of her primary methods of communication, it does make sense that she would have figured out how to convey meaning through the music. It's less logical that Eric, who doesn't know her, would immediately pick up on the nuances of that communication instead of having to get to know her better, but it's a romance novel so fine. Whatever. Eric and Kilmeny have a spiritual magical connection and understand each other instinctively.

We learn that Kilmeny can laugh aloud, even if she can't speak. Eric asks about it, and she says that she can only make sounds when she's not thinking about it. When she is caught up in the moment she can laugh or make noises of fear or surprise, but if she tries to make sounds on purpose she can't. She also says this: " I asked mother once and she told me it was a judgment on her for a great sin she had committed."

Kilmeny doesn't notice that Eric only sees her as an extension of himself because all her life she has only ever been seen as an extension of her mother. She has been punished for Margaret's sin. (And, by the by, why is it Margaret who is being punished when it's Ronald who lied to her? Kilmeny said last chapter that on her deathbed Margaret regretted never forgiving Ronald or believing him when he said he didn't know his first wife was alive. Is that her sin?

Ew. I just realized. Margaret's sin is pride and her punishment for that sin is having born a disabled child. I hate it.)

Eric does have a good moment when he asks Kilmeny's permission to ask her about her muteness. As ever, Eric is poisoned by the fact that we can see his thoughts.

" Do not look so sorry, my friend. I am very happy and I do not mind so very much not being able to speak—only sometimes when I have so many thoughts and it seems so slow to write them out, some of them get away from me."

Kilmeny has the most healthy attitude on her disability we have seen thus far: it isn't hurting her, it is sometimes kind of annoying, but mostly she just lives her life. It's other people who make a big deal about it.

So Eric wishes that his friend, who conveniently is a nationally renowned throat specialist, could examine Kilmeny. On the one hand, sure. On the other, I wish he could take her at her word that she doesn't particularly mind and leave it alone. He's not doing it because he thinks it will make her happy, he's doing it because he thinks she is defective.

Ew.

(Also, as a sidenote, it's been a minute since we heard anything about Eric's students. The man is definitely not cut out to be a teacher, is all I'll say.)

[damelucyjo]

I’m thoroughly miserable from a trip to the dentist so let’s make it worse! 😂

Episode 9 - La Locker Room Aux Folles

Well this is a delightful opening!

Spot on with the music choice, as always

Ted & Beard at Roy: one of us! One of us! 😂

I need to know absolutely everything about Beard’s life. It’s not a want. It’s a need.

Oh no, why did they change the angle of Beard ‘fainting’? Was funnier head on, I think

Poor Colin 🥺 (why did I really want to call him Greg? Who the fuck is Greg?? 🫤)

Sniffing clothes must be such a man thing 😂

Come on Issac, I know you’re angry but he’s trying!!

How fucking dirty are your socks, Dani, if Colin can smell them as soon as you’re near?! 😂

Oops 😂😂

YYEEEAAAHHHH!!!

🚨GIRLIE LUNCH! I REPEAT GIRLIE LUNCH!!🚨 I’ve missed them

You’re not supposed to… yet we all do it 🫣 I’m looking at you, Ted

*dramatic gasp* ‘So much blue’ 😂

Their relationship is so gorgeous. They’re fully cheerleaders for one another, and Rebecca is so lovingly maternal towards Keeley in just the right way 🥰

And here comes dadTed 😂

Yes, babe, sniff those biscuits. It’s not like you get them every day or anything

I love how everyone not at all secretly love Ted’s stories as absolutely nobody ever stops him from telling them 👍🏼

And of course Rebecca would flip her lid at the idea of him giving biscuits to anyone else (like Sharon) but Keeley is 100% fine 🥰

We all know money makes everything better. Great job, Ted 🫡 😂

‘Of course, Ted. Family first’ 🥹 beautiful

(There’s 3 people in this scene, but why does it feel like Rebecca & Ted barely take their eyes off one another…🫠)

These fucking lyrics 😂😂😂 and the girls just bobbing along to it

And Miss Rebecca, you’re face is being very wife-life right now. Just saying

‘Fuck no’ Roy, that is your boss! 😂

‘I mean, why can’t Ted do it. 😳 I mean, I’d love to’ 😂 he’s scared of Rebecca 😂 and she didn’t even have to speak!

‘I heard that’ SHES SUCH A MUM!! 😂😂

Mr Shelby. The more I see Jade the more I love her

THEY’RE SO BLOODY CUTE!! 😍🥰😍🥰

What does it say about me that the creepier and more of an arsehole Rupert is, the more I fall in love with Tony?? 🤔 Hmm

‘It’s worthwhile to meet you’ gagged! Oh she clocked him right away. Good for you Jade!!

He’s spouting his usual shit and she’s not falling for any of it. That is the face of an incredibly uninterested woman. FUCK HIM UP, JADE!! 😂

I fully expected that shot it reveal him watching them from that window 🤦🏻‍♀️😂

Oh what beautiful chaos! You just know this scene was a delight to film. Of course they’re having a passionate debate about guitarists, not football! 😂

Also you’re not fooling anyone by saying Joe is better purely because he’s from Kansas. Come on now, Coach.

It also perfectly highlights why we need more Beard 🫣

Hey now! Leave Stairway to Heaven out of this, man! I love that song!!

Beard at the door 😂😂

So true that the press care more about who is the best guitarist rather than football 🫡 journalism we actually care about! 😂

‘The guy from Cream’ 😂😂 they did that for Hannah! I have to agree with her though, Eric is a great guitarist!

Not gonna lie, I am surprised she even knew a rock band to name 😂

I, too, am sick of Roy being Roy. Brett has been wasted on the grump this season.

That’s what we want!! Give me all the Rebecca being Rebecca!!

So real of Leslie to cheer her walking down a hallway. He gets it

‘Get your hair arse into my office. Now!’ God, she’s got when she’s angry 🥵🥵🥵

‘Ooooo’ they’re all just a bunch of kids on a playground. I love it! 😂

Is his arse the only part of him that’s not hairy?? 🤔 That is a furry man 😂

Must be the pick on Richard episode 😂

‘That Ted’s son is failing science. Scandal’ Trent, you’re delightful and I’m sorry you’ve not been here the whole time! 😂

Going to Fairy Gay Godmother for advice. We love to see it 🥹

Henry’s poor teacher 😂

‘What the fuck is your problem’ ‘Wait, I know this one. You are!’ Rebecca, you sarcastic bitch. I love you! 🥰

This dynamic is absolutely gorgeous, too. I feel like Rebecca & Roy are maybe the only two who are fully real with one another without fear that they’re going to upset the other one. With Roy telling her she shouldn’t settle, and now Rebecca telling him he needs to figure out what it is he wants. I wish we had more of these two this season.

Hasn’t Nate got a team, too? Why does he always seem to be doing game play stuff alone?? 🤔 Or does he prefer it that way??

Rupert is disgusting. *insert clip of Hannah saying ‘I fucking love it’*

A guy’s night?? Don’t trust him, Nate! 🫤

Classic Chris & Arlo banter. I’m gonna miss it! 😂

Okay, so a spin off of Mae and the bar is actually what I want. Apple, you listening

Leslie, my boy, what is going on? Why you texting her when she’s right there? What did that text say?? I’m confused.

He was quick to jump in with that handshake stuff 😂 it’s been playing on his mind since they met, I’ll bet 😂

Issac, I know you’re angry, but you’re just being a dick now.

And moving your hand was such an arsehole move. Uncalled for, dude.

Uh oh, the girls are fighting 😳

Some more award winning ‘pretending to care about football’ acting from Hannah there. Nicely done 😂

This guy hand it coming though. Absolutely disgusting behaviour which, unfortunately, is very close to real life.

Okay, Leslie that really was the worst time for a joke, but I will say it did make me laugh 😂

I know it’s all for storytelling purposes, but the boys are right. It’s nothing new to them, So why have such a huge reaction now? These boys have such varied responses and reactions on things sometimes depending on plot point that it’s a little icky 🫣

Sam & Jamie have such a brotherly relationship now. I’m loving it!

Another callback to when Keeley entered the locker room and Roy didn’t want her there. Nice.

Them assuming Issac is gay because of his outburst is totally logical too. But it does kinda force Colin to say something, even if he feels he can’t yet, if he’s to step up for his friend 🫤

Them all looking at Jamie and him telling them he’s flatter is what? 📢GROWTH📢 Can you imagine season 1 Jamie in that situation?! 😳

Roy taking what Rebecca’s just told him and paying it forward to Issac 🥹 the boys are learning!

Fucking Will! 😂 you must just always assume he’s there someone because chances are he is 😂

I kind of love that they didn’t show Colin saying the actual words. It wasn’t needed.

‘You’re gay, big whoop’ exactly Dani. Big whoop indeed!

It wouldn’t be Ted Lasso without a folksy story that may not have anything to do with what they’re talking about 😂 Ted, all you had to say was ‘we do care. What we mean is it doesn’t change anything. You’re not alone’

Look at proud uncle Trent watching them all be amazing 🥹

HOW DO I FALL IN LOVE WITH THESE BOYS MORE AND MORE EVERY EPISODE?! HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE??

Okay Trent, he’s getting ideas for his book 👀 I’m excited! I’m loving your Dolly t-shirt too, btw 😍

He doesn’t have to hide anymore 🥹

Shut the fuck up, George. No one cares what you have to say

Go off, Mae! 😂 that is a woman you do not want to cross!! 😂

‘Not Claire’ these boys 🥰

Come on, Nate. You know exactly what Rupert is like. You’ve seen him with his assistant with your own eyes, for goodness sake. Like he was ever going to have a drink with you one on one. Be real, man.

Is this the end of his time at West Ham though? I hope so.

A ‘that’s what she said’ joke I’m not so many words? Okay then 🤷🏻‍♀️

Why would she give Ted talking points, Rebecca? You trust him now, remember

A Roy press conference is what’s I’ve always wanted 😍

And he’s using his time to tell a story, just like Ted. Brings a tear to my eye 🥹 GROWTH, PEOPLE!!

This episode really is just a PSA to football fans to keep their fucking mouths shut, and I love that.

‘Five o’clock shadow head’ ‘New Trent’ & ‘Goblin King’ are all why he needed to do more press 😂

He just wanted a hug 🥺

I knew this is what it all came down to, the fact that he was hurt his best friend didn’t feel like he could tell him. But he needed to hear Colin say that 1% chance scared the shit out of him. He’s rather they stay friends than live as his true self freely 🥺

‘The team knows. That’s enough for me’ ‘No one’s gonna say shit. I promise’ OMG I’m on my period and incredibly emotional right now. This scene made me cry just as much as it did the first time 😢

Him asking these question is so real 😂 I’m glad their friendship hasn’t been affected in the slightest.

And I agree, 1967’s Raquel Welch is *chefs kiss*

‘No. But you know I do, yeah?’ I MEANN!!!!🥹🥹

Another great song choice to end on, too!

Well that was another amazing episode!! We even got a little bit more Rebecca than we have since Amsterdam!! And angry Rebecca at that. What a win! 😂

Some absolutely great moments from everyone in this one, but I’m hoping Roy is going to start sorting himself out now and stop being such a grump. We’ve still got that scene of Roy, Keeley & Jamie from the promo to look forward to 🤞🏼

We’ve got Edwin Akufo back next episode which sounds like a delight, even with how he departed last time. My naive Tedbecca loving heart’ and knowing how much this show loves a callback, hopes that his visit involves inviting Ted to coach for his team. I’d love another scene of her telling someone, Ted in this instance, ‘I can’t make you stay, but I don’t want you to go’

[lilisouless]

hmm you seem to dislike Eric Heisserer just based off some comments and i actually want to know more about this if that's good with you.

Is not him personally, but as the showrunner, pretty much anything that goes wrong in the show is on him.

1-The brownface stuntdouble incident, because wth was that?

2-Alina being half shu was something that Leigh and Eric decided together and i was so exited for it. I am going to not try and sound like an asshole , i don't think anyone at all deserves to be a victim of racism but i think Alina being an outsider in the camp because she was half shu was more interesting and sympathetic that the book canon, where she was an outsider for "not being pretty" (which we only have her word for it, so it´s clearly just low self steem) and somehow, literally every woman in her camp is a bitch but her (i am not lying, thats the reason Alina doesn't have friends aside from Mal in the book) But anyway, it was a great change to show how people in the grishaverse used the war as an excuse to be racist (a very common and real thing in life) Alina having "the face of the enemy" and how it differs with Mal´s situation (with this i am not completely sure on how would it be, i assume Mal´s casting was colorblind since Kit Young auditioned for the role). Mal , if he shares Archie´s exact ancestry, is a quarter Suli, which makes him diferent from Alina since Ravka is not in conflict with the Suli (in fact, acording to Inej, the grisha are the ones who are not nice to the suli). So Mal, would have a diferent treatment, but still be an outsider.

All this sounds like an good thing to explore, to make Alina more sympathetic, more mature, someone who understands the downsides of the grisha army and thats why she sympatizes with anyone. But Alina being shu is PURELY reduced to a mean spirited comments, zoya´s infamous scene (and completely uncalled for) , there are some good things that come fron it (her friendship with Genya is stronger in the show with Genya asuring her that won´t change her eyes , despite what the maids just said ,which also brings how Alina doesn't want to change herself to fit in). All the potential, pretty gets pretty much wasted.

3-Zoya, everything that has to do with Zoya, you can tell he hated her. I won't elaborate, i have talked a lot about her before.

I am just going to say that i am suspicious about a man who makes a male character sleeping with the girl he raised, and inviting the audience to sympatize with HIM and slutshaming the girl.

4-I am not comfortable on how he talked about Jesper´s sexuality , but that may just be my shipper bias so i will refrain myself from commenting on that one.

Is too early to talk about Inej , Jesper (develoment wise) and Nina (dam, Matthias is really the only crow that i have no complains about) , there are things i am not liking, but i will wait until season 2 until i decide if Eric screwed them up too, i´ll give it the benefit of the doubt.

Other than the bronwace incident (seriously, what was he thinking?) i actually think all of the things above can be fixed , i don't think all of this characters are a complete waste. Alina´s thing CAN still be adressed on season 2, now that we are having Tolya and Tamar (this time he is not allowed to screw it up) and Zoya , as she and Alina ended up in good terms on the show/Alina doesn't hate her like in the book, actually has the potential to be handled better than how she was used in book 2 , but that requires actually caring about the character, and in Zoya´s case, i doubt it.

In short, he hasn't made a mistake i think he can't fix BUT that won't happen if it´s not pointed out the things that did came wrong.

[itspvg]

1, 31, 41, 43, 48 for the weird asks

Thank you again for the asks! You are the best!

1 who is/are your comfort character(s)? - Eric Draven from The Crow as well as Roland Deschain from the Dark Tower Series.

Eric Darven was always a character I loved because I find myself, if I am allowed to give myself this title. A hopeless romantic at heart. And there's something about the story of loving someone so much to the point where they are taken from you and treated with such malice and contempt. That you can't rest knowing that those who would hurt someone that you loved that much has suffered. While dark, I can't help but love the character and the story. It's dark but to me it speaks to my sense of feeling toward the concept of love in a very primal way.

With Roland Deschain, it's an odd choice. But I find comfort in his character. He's a character that is developed and you travel with across 7+ books. You see him at his formative years. Right through to what the read can only assume hundreds of years later. Stedfast on a trip through the horrors and wastes for revenge. Again a character looking to avenge those he has lost. These span close friends, family and a childhood love. A man that has been so battered and broken by the harsh realities and challenges. To the point when we first find him, he's a single minded husk. A wandering lone gunslinger/knight who has one goal in mind. But along the way, he's forced to look at himself. Accept that the world is a cold harsh place and the safe home in the comfort in others is why he fights for vengence. Given the opportunity to have friends again, to become an unexpected father. He begins to find his humanity again and understand his quest. So that people don't have to feel what he felt, hurt like he's hurt. That evolution in the character I find comfort in from the stand point that it reminds me that how you start doesn't define how you end. And that you can always strive for better.

31 what type of music keeps you grounded? - These days it's hard to say. I feel like the vibe of the music and the emotion I am experiencing can have wildy big effects on me. When I am feeling sad. I need something that connects to that emotion. If I am feeling lost, music themes around the idea of self discovery cna be helpful. Thankfully as time has went on. I listen to more than just Metal and Rock. I still love these genres but sometimes I need the lyrics to speak to me directly. I need to hear the concepts even just lightly touch upon the things I am feeling at the time. There are some good artists in Metal and Rock that can do that. But then these days where it's not the right vibe. I need something with a bit of vibrancy. When I think about it. I think back to what one of my heroes in music, Marty Friedman (form Megadeth Lead Guitarist) said something that really made sense to me. He talked about when deciding the leave the band. He needed to be able to make music that spoke to him. Megadeth was Gunmetal Gray. He wanted to paint with greens, blues, oranges, purples. And that struck a chord with me as I got older. It's not the say the Gumetal gray is bad. But I needed a wider palet. And so I guess with this long winded answer. I am trying to say, what grounds me will be very much what can connect with me depending on the driving force of that emotion.

41 how do you take your coffee? - A simple one to actually answer lol. I am sure you are happy about this... Typically I like a single serving of sugar or sweetner. And lightest splash of milk/cream.

43 what’s your take on spicy foods? - I like spicy foods a lot. They have been something I have been always quite fond of growing up. But I do tend to be of the opinion that spice for the sake of spice alone is stupid. I like flavour and if the spice can emobody an interesting flavour. I love it. But you see these fucking sauce "MEGA NUKE ASS BLASTER SATAN'S TEARS WHILE APPLYING A CHEESE GRATOR TO YOUR BALLZ sauce" can get in the bin. Fucking gimmicks that just ruin a good meal.

48 when did you first try an alcohol beverage? - Oh christ, that's a story lol. First time I think I can remmeber trying a alcoholic beverage was when I got my hands on this 35cl bottle of Jack Daniels. I must of been about 15 maybe? Maybe 14. It's hard to remember... But we all had this moment where one of friends had an empty house, no folks home. So a bunch of us got together and somehow scrapped together money for alcohol. Now of course at this point I am just getting into Rock and Metal and you see all your favourite artists drinking Jack Daniels. It's in their hands in pictures and they are wearing t shirts with the logo. So you are like "Well this is what they drink and I want to be cool like them". So I manage to get this small bottle of Jack. Not understanding the difficulty mode I just decided to start on in the drinking game. I try glugging this down and of course, my small child brain ain't fucking stomaching this shit. So I get some cranberry juice from my mate. Try and mix it and get it down easier. It works. But next thing I know I have slugged the whole fucking bottle. Needless to say I am fucking absolutely Greenhoused, not able to fucking think for myself or stand an hour later. I end up sloshed against a wall at the top of my street barely keeping myself right and eventually puking into my friend's lap. He's never let me live that down, nor should he. I was an idiot....

Again I apologise for the massive answers. I dunno, I guess I am just wordy tonight but I hope that is ok and you don't hate me too much for just giving you war and peace... Again really enjoyed doing these and would encourage anyone curious to send more in!

[legionofblues]

2022: That Happened?

So yeah...2022 was kind of an interesting year for me all around. It started off decently enough with me getting to Vegas with my fam for my Dad’s 70th birthday celebration...despite my old work not letting me going to all of it since they’ve been short staffed for over a year like everyone else. 

Though by far the highlight of my hear is finally leaving CEVA Logistics after five years...but it was into a void of uncertainty. For the rest of 2022, I’ve been working with my Dad and a friend of his in the trucking logistics industry with the idea of me starting my own carrier developmental program. I’m still taking classes and getting all the knowledge I can get but I don’t regret leaving CEVA at all. I was getting nowhere there and it was taking it’s toll on me mentally.

I’m being literal by the way. I needed therapy to get through working there because I had to rely on so many people for my job to function and when someone else doesn’t do their job, I’m the one that gets the earful from the customers. 

Though that’s not the main thing I wanted to talk about with this post. What I want to discuss is how my mental prowess has been in 2022 and what I plan on trying to achieve in 2023. 

First on a positive note: I have done, I THINK, a better job at not overthinking as much about certain aspects about myself and trying to hard into fitting certain groups. At this point, I have a better idea of who my real friends are and know who I don’t need to lie to myself to in order to feel accepted. I still go out and hang out with my rl crew playing disc golf, chilling playing games, going to sports events, all the usual stuff we do. 

I want to give a quick shoutout to my friends Mark, Eric, Andrea, and my disc golf crew for just liking having me around when I don’t talk a whole lot unless I feel like bring out my inner Rocky with the snark. 😂

I realize more than ever now that the people who want to see me happy and see me succeed is a LOT bigger than I give myself credit for. Even if it wasn’t, I’m learning to tell myself that I should treat myself better and cutdown on the backhanded compliments and the self roasts for comedic effect. I go out of my way to overdo it to make others I feel smile even if I make myself feel miserable. When I do that, I tend to get caught back up in that self-inflicting cycle I fall into constantly. Soooo I’m still trying to figure that part out. 

Going into 2023, there are at least three things I plan on doing in order to become a better Rocky or Justin (Yes that’s my rl name for those who don’t know):

1. Getting this trucking brokerage up and running by means of starting to generate my own revenue. 

2. Getting back into doing 5K races with my Mom.

3. Going back to seeing a therapist.

#1 speaks for itself but I want to discuss #2 a little bit. I used to do 5Ks with my mom a few years ago but I eventually stopped due to pain in my kness/ankles at times but mostly due to self-image issues. I’m a nearly 6′3 300 lbs black man. I felt ridiculous being out there with a bunch of experienced runners who do these races like they’re nothing. I get self-conscious when I do things like that or when my fit friends offer me to go work out with them. I tend to look down upon myself or try too hard to not feel like a colossal f**k up and a waste of God’s creation. I want to get back into it as another means of getting myself out as well as add in some more exercise that can lead to me having my stamina on the disc golf course. This also leads me into #3: Going back to seeing a therapist.

I stopped seeing my old therapist since he wasn’t in network with my new insurance carrier that I obtained when I left CEVA. Not to mention the demand for therapy is at an all time high with all the sh*t that’s been going down in the world recently but I ain’t even going to attempt to dig down that endless rabbit hole. 

The main thing I wanted to get into with my next therapist is something that may sound controversial but hear me out: I want to get to the root of why I’m ashamed of being black but in a sense of not having a ton of black interests. 

This past year, I met a black furry for the first time in my life. Anyone who knows me knows I’ve been a closet furry for a years now. Same can be said with me being a brony. Shit. It was only five years ago I met a black brony for the first time. I bring those up and many others coming up because for years, my interests and my upbringing are elements that often made me wondered where I belonged as far as social circles go. I’ve been through so many social circles on Twitter that have fallen apart due to manipulation on their end or my own mental breakdowns or both than I can count. I already have to change a handful of things about myself irl also to be good enough for certain parts of my family so it’s like a never ending juggling match on who the real Rocky/Justin even f***ing is. 

My long term goal is to move out of the family house in the next year or so I can get the one thing I’ve wanted more than anything the last 10-15 years; A dog and/or a cat. I just need at least one being in my life that I don’t feel is always constantly judging me, likes chilling with me, and who’s love is unconditional as long as I treat them right (which of course I plan to do). It’s the matter of generating enough revenue through this brokerage and being able to get an affordable place for my potential pupper or kitty goes meow to have the best life I’m able to give them. 

Though I’ve been babbling more than long enough. Let me end by saying this:

I can’t begin to thank everyone who has stuck with me as long as they have through my mental endeavors. For many, I’ve given plenty of reasons to give up on me. Even I at times have told people that I’m not worth it. Some of those people stayed anyway and stayed rooting for me to become a better and happier person. You guys are all amazing people and you more that deserve to get everything you worked your asses off for and you’ve dreamed about. I say that from the bottom of my heart because I know being friends with me isn’t an easy matter. In 2023, hopefully I’ll make knowing me being a little bit easier. 

Thanks for reading and have a safe and Happy New Year. 🎉🎉🎉

[kevindayscrown]

The one where Kevin Day falls in love with an ice hockey player

Part 5 Skate Blades

(TW: Violence, Lots of cursing)

Anything included in this head canon takes place the semester after the Foxes won the championship against the Ravens.

Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about varsity teams in the United States so excuse any false information. Read first the Introduction, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4

Eric was pushed back against the shelves of the aisle, knocking some skates down. Andrew had a tight grip on the collar of his hoodie and despite the huge height difference, he had somehow managed to pin the other goalie.

The skate on his hand came down at Eric at an almost impossible speed but Kevin managed to snap out of his surprised state and move quicker, grabbing Andrew’s hand and stopping it.

He realized his mistake way too late.

Andrew immediately shoved his elbow against Kevin’s stomach, making him let go and double over, cradling his stomach with his arms.

The blond turned his attention back to Eric and pressed the blade of the skate against his throat. When Eric gripped his wrist to push his hand away, Andrew only pressed harder.

“For fuck’s shake,” someone muttered and Kevin turned to look at Neil rushing towards them. Andrew pushed Eric back again, but Eric seemed to have gained back his own senses and brought his leg up, kicking Andrew back.

“Stop it. Now.” Kevin snapped at both of them, turning to look at Neil for help. He knew that he was the only one who could get through to Andrew.

“Andrew, don’t you think stabbing someone in public is going to cause more problems than solving them?”

Andrew was staring at Eric with a blunt expression despite holding onto the skate still.

Kevin’s heart was pounding but he wouldn’t dare try to make a move on Andrew again. It still felt as if his breath had been knocked out of him.

“Kevin,” Andrew’s tone made Kevin almost flinch. He knew from personal experience that despite their deal, Andrew wasn’t beyond lashing at Kevin.

Neil had to go reassure an employee that everything was alright so Kevin was left to deal with Andrew on his own.

Worst part was that Kevin couldn’t tell what Andrew was thinking right at that moment.

“Mind explaining why you were lying all those nights?” His tone was deadly calm, with a small hint of sarcasm that told Kevin that Andrew had never bought all these bullshit lies.

Kevin was cornered. His gaze went from Andrew to Eric, whose eyes were also on him. This resulted in them exchanging a long look until Andrew stood in front of Kevin and pressed the blade flat against Kevin’s chest.

“My patience, Kevin. Don’t test it.”

“I was going with Eric to the rink so he could teach me how to skate,” he finally admitted.

Andrew’s expressionless gaze stayed on him for a few moments before he pulled back.

“You were always so easy to read. And here I thought you didn’t have the spine to do something so stupidly reckless.”

“It’s nothing. It’s meaningless. Just a waste of my time.”

Eric’s eyes narrowed at Kevin.

“Oh, is it?” Andrew asked, probably noticing Eric’s reaction.

“It didn’t mean anything. It was just a matter of pride. Nothing more.”

Eric scoffed and shook his head as if disappointed.

“Of course. After all, Day has but little time for those of us who are beneath him.” Eric’s words dripped with venom. “Don’t worry, Minyard. Tug on that little leash of yours all you want. I’m done.”

Kevin watched him move past them and leave.

He felt a small twitch in his chest but Andrew stepping back and finally giving him space caused his attention to turn back to him.

“I don’t like anyone touching my stuff, Kevin. I made an exception about Thea, but you chose to break up with her.”

“It’s not like that.” Kevin snapped. “The press is just blowing things out of proportion.”

Andrew watched him, as if not quite believing that.

“Ichirou isn’t going to kill you over this.” He said, as if Kevin was stupid for even considering that, somehow reading his thoughts. “The news has probably gotten to him first too. You would already be dead.”

Somehow, that didn’t make Kevin feel any better.

Neil came back after helping the employee pick up the fallen skates, looking down at his cellphone.

“Kevin, you might want to look at this.”

He held the phone up and Kevin looked at the screen, reading the message Neil had just received.

‘Tell Day to keep it up.’

Unknown number. Though Kevin already knew who it was from.

“What?

“There is no such thing as bad press,” Andrew started and brought the skate up, running his finger across the blade. “The team you’ve signed with already isn’t going to break the contract over this. These news only bring more attention to your name. More cash to Ichirou.”

He then turned to Neil and said, “Tell him that Kevin isn’t doing this.”

“He can’t just tell Ichirou no. Not unless you want Kevin dead, just so Ichirou can turn him into an example of what he does to those disobeying him.”

Kevin kept staring at the message, dumbfounded. He then clenched his jaw and pushed Neil’s hand away.

“I’m not doing this. I don’t even like-,”

Neil raised an eyebrow, as if challenging him to finish that sentence.

“Fuck you, Josten.”

“He’s not doing this,” Andrew said with an edge to his voice, as if ready to snap at any moment.

“Fuck it if I’m letting the foxes lose the season because of another ‘tragic accident’. In any case, this will die down after a month, tops. Just roll with it. After that, Kevin can go back to kissing his Exy racquet instead. For now, we don’t have much of a choice.”

“Stop fucking talking as if I’m not standing right here,” Kevin spatted.

Andrew ignored him as he thought. He stared Neil down, as if the two of them were having a silent conversation that Kevin wasn’t a part of. The striker was used to that by now.

“No more of the skating bullshit. They’ll only do enough to satisfy the tabloids and Ichirou.”

“I’m not gonna fucking pretend I’m dating Jiang Eric to please the press.”

“Wanna tell that to Ichirou?” Neil asked and held his phone up.

Needless to say, Kevin knew he had no choice. He couldn’t go up against Ichirou – the man who pretty much owned him – and tell him ‘no’.

He had to do this. It just so happened that he made his life worse by telling Andrew in front of Eric that those late-night practices on the rink meant nothing.

Whatever progress the two had made into bridging the gap was now gone. Kevin would have to find the nerve to go to Eric and ask him to pretend they are going out. He had no idea how to do that, but from the little he got to know Eric a bit more personally, he didn’t think he was the type of person to not help someone in need.

He wasn’t even going to try and think about what this all meant. Kevin was straight. It was easier that way. When all this would be done, he would find a girl to date and people would forget about this fiasco.

But at that moment, he had to approach Eric and find a common ground.

[sankyeom]

𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 // 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍!𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚠𝚘𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚞

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚠𝚘𝚘. 𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚠𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌.

𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 // 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝

Sunwoo was a little drunk.

That much was clear just by his appearance alone. His eyes, usually sparkly and warm, were rimmed with red and caused Sunwoo’s vision to be slightly blurred under the effects of the alcohol he had consumed that evening.

He didn’t intend for that night to happen that way. Originally, Eric had brought Sunwoo to the party to cheer him up after moping around for four days. Sunwoo was so upset about what happened that he wouldn’t even tell Eric what it was. Still, his best friend figured that if it was bad enough, Sunwoo would just tell him what happened eventually. The party seemed like the perfect solution, especially since all of their friends would be attending as well.

Y/n had been doing somewhat better than Sunwoo.

She had refused to believe their short disagreement over text was a break up, and was simply waiting for Sunwoo to calm down enough to have a proper conversation with her. This seemed to be the mature thing to do, even if she wasn’t sure she believed it.

Some time at the start of the party, Y/n ran into Bomin from high school and her legal studies class. She was all too happy with the distraction. Bomin was equal parts funny, kind and had the opposite personality to Sunwoo’s. As such, he made the perfect form of entertainment for the evening. His gorgeous smile helped cheer her up a little, too. Eric had joined the pair after noticing them, remembering Bomin from high school and all too enthusiastic to catch up with him.

Just when Y/n wanted to leave and find Kevin – a result of Eric and Bomin speaking entirely about baseball and little else – she spotted Hyunggu greeting Hyunjae in the corner of her eyes. Recalling that she hadn’t seen him since their legal studies final, Y/n excused herself to greet the older man.

“Hey,” she appeared beside Hyunjae, smiling widely at him and Hyunggu. Hyunggu’s eyes lit up with delight after recognising Y/n. “Good to see you again,” she told Hyunggu, accepting the warm hug he was holding his arms out for. The two had become quite decent friends over the semester.

“You too! How was your break?”

As Hyunggu and Y/n conversed, Hyunjae smirked and left the two alone in favour of finding his friends, spying on them from a distance. The pair hadn’t even noticed Hyunjae leave, which made him giggle as he approached Sunwoo, Kevin and Chanhee.

“What are you smirking about?” Chanhee wondered, sipping on his drink with a raised brow.

“Hyunggu and Y/n,” Hyunjae sang their names, pointing them out in the crowded room. You were leaning your ear closer to Hyunggu’s lips so you could better understand him over the music, bursting into laughter once you understood him. “They’re in their own little world over there.”

Sunwoo’s heart dropped into his stomach, and not just from the alcohol he had consumed that day.

Chanhee grinned. “They’re actually pretty cute together,” your friend allowed. “But I saw her with Bomin earlier, and they’re way cuter together.”

“Choi Bomin? He’s one good-looking guy. Him and Y/n would have gorgeous children. Still, I’m team Hyunggu.”

Sunwoo couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip to suppress a scoff. That Bomin guy again? Surely you weren’t just spending time with all the men that were interested in you for no reason.

Kevin, having noticed Sunwoo’s silence and knowing the truth about your relationship with him, intervened. “Let’s not start shipping Y/n with every male around her,” he tried to joke. “She’s her own person.”

“Of course,” Hyunjae nodded. “Besides, she said she wasn’t interested in either of them. I wonder why she never even went on a date with Hyunggu…”

Sunwoo downed what was left in his cup and frowned. “I’m just gonna-” without finishing his sentence, he made his way to where you stood.

Hyunggu saw him before you did. “Oh hi,” he greeted. “It’s Sunwoo, right?”

At the sound of your boyfriend’s name, you tensed. “Yeah,” Sunwoo nodded. “Could I have a minute with her?” he motioned to you. Hyunggu shrugged and you let Sunwoo lead you out of the house and to the front porch, away from prying eyes.

Chanhee, Hyunjae and Kevin watched. “Well that’s new,” Chanhee said, surprised by Sunwoo willingly speaking to you. “I’ve certainly never seen them voluntarily interact before.”

Once you were outside, you felt the bite of the late January air against your skin, even through your sweater and jeans. Noticing this, Sunwoo took off his sherpa-lined leather jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Are you doing this on purpose?” he asked, breaking the silence as he zipped the jacket up.

You exhaled. “Doing what, Sunwoo? I don’t want to play games. Just tell me what you mean.”

The combination of the jealousy and alcohol in his system made Sunwoo’s head slightly foggy. “Hyunggu, Bomin,” he listed off. “Everyone likes you and wants to go out with you.”

“That’s not true,” you denied. “They’re my classmates; friends I made over the semester. Hyunggu asked me out and I decided not to go because of you, remember?”

“Friends,” Sunwoo scoffed. “Do all of your friends flirt with you?”

Frustrated with his behaviour, you bit back “Well, they wouldn’t flirt with me if they knew I had a boyfriend. But you don’t want to tell anyone so I don’t have any reason to tell them to leave me alone.”

“Don’t have any reason?” Sunwoo echoed. “So you’re saying that you just let them flirt with you even though we’re dating? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“You want to talk about what’s fair?” you exclaimed. “Fine! Let’s talk. But I’m not wasting my time to explain to you that I can have male friends even though we’re dating. They’ve never crossed any line that made me uncomfortable or compromised my relationship with you,” you bit your bottom lip. “You do that on your own just fine.”

“Nice,” Sunwoo rolled his eyes. “Really nice. Thanks for that.” As he tried to sit on the front steps, he lost his footing and nearly fell.

“You’re drunk,” you realised, stabilising his balance by taking ahold of his arms. “Go home, Sunwoo,” you said, feeling disappointed. “I’m not going to pointlessly argue while you’re drunk.”

“So now you’re mad about me being drunk? Am I not allowed to go out and have fun?”

“I’m not mad that you’re drunk!” You felt like your words were falling on deaf ears. “I’m mad because you never deal with your feelings,” you explained. “I’m mad because you say that you’re dating me and you love me, then you just ignore any conflict that arises and act out like this!”

You still had more to say, but someone else’s voice stopped you dead in your tracks. “Did you just say you’re dating?” Eric asked, voice ablaze with confusion and anger.

You almost stopped breathing in that moment.

Turning to face where your brother had just exited the house – most likely to find you after speaking with Bomin or check on how drunk Sunwoo was – you found Eric glaring at Sunwoo. “Eric,” you stammered. “I- I can explain. I know you’re probably upset with me for-“

“How could you?” Eric exclaimed to Sunwoo, tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

You had expected Eric to shout at you, maybe call you a liar and be angry at you for keeping things from him. What you hadn’t expected was Eric to be gazing at Sunwoo as if he had betrayed him, tears leaking out of his eyes and dripping down his cheeks.

Eric cried often. It was one of the many things you loved about your brother: his sensitivity and ginormous heart.

And yet, you never saw this coming.

“Eric,” Sunwoo said quietly. “I-“ he closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

“No,” Eric shook his head, angrily wiping the tears away. “I’m sure you didn’t want me to find out at all, did you? I bet that you thought everything would be fine as long as I didn’t find out. That it wouldn’t be a breach of trust if I had no clue.”

The way your brother’s words hit close to home only served to confuse you further.

“Please don’t be mad,” Sunwoo’s voice shook, suddenly desperate and panicked at having been caught. He stepped out of your hold to approach your brother. “Please don’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Eric, I just-“

“You broke your promise, Sunwoo,” Eric sobbed. “You promised you wouldn’t do this.”

Promised?

“What are you guys talking about?” you demanded.

please don’t kill me for that cliffhanger... see you in four days lol

also stan golden child and pentagon pls thnx

[delu-jean]

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭)

Hello! As this event takes place, requests will be closed since juggling both will be a little tiring! 

-> Thanks: Thank you guys for 100 follows! I’m glad my writing is something others can enjoy, and I’ll keep on doing my best to both improve, and deliver. 

Event: 

-> Song-Fic/ Song Lyric Event: There are forty five prompts with different song lyrics! Some angst, and others fluff, but all revolve around romance~

->Each fic will revolve around the lyric specifically, or the entire song!

->Eg of fic with just the lyric (specifcially): I may use the lyric as a line you, or another character would say, it might pop up when needed, and etc. A fic example would be: “Before You Go” (Nanami Kento x fem!/reader). 

->Eg of fic with entire song: Basically a song-fic

->Eg of fic wihtout lyrics in it: I present the lyrical prompt at the beginning of the fic, and write w/o needing to use it as an actual line, or anything else. 

->Whichever is found fitting, will be used!! ^^

->Either way, the fic will be written about that lyrical prompt!! :))

Rules: (A must)

This event is one for (fem!xreader) x (<inserted male reader>) 

He needs to be a character from one of the five fandoms I write for! 

Jjk, Mha, Haikyuu, Aot, and Demon Slayer

If your guy isn’t on the list, by all means, request and I’ll tell you if I feel like I can write for him!! ^^

-> Link to the M.list <-

This is a non-nsfw event, and topics over 18+ aren’t allowed!! 

You can only request one character per prompt, unless, the prompt calls for two! (Even then, you can choose to only ask for one) 

My rules still apply for this event, if you would like specifics, please do ask, or look through the rules post! 

-> Rules <-

Key: 

Angst

Fluff 

You can request more than one character (max would be two) = ☆

Prompts: 

"What if I said I'm sorry, what if I made a scene? Wouldn't that make you mine again, you're all I'll ever need," -What If I Said I'm Sorry (Caliber)

"You won and she chose you, and she loved you, and she's gone…" -Its Over Isn't It? (DeeDee Magno Hall) ☆

"She's a she's a lady, and I am just a boy without a line," -Line without a hook (Ricky Montgomery) 

"Knew I was falling when I looked inside your eyes, and you said…'I know you are but what am I?" -What Am I? (Why don't we)

"I need a man who loves me like my Father loves my mom," -Like My father (Jax)

"You make my heart beat faster than adrenaline, you kiss away the pain of all the hell I’m in," -Medicine (James Arthur) 

"It's always one step forward, and three steps back. I'm the love of your life until I make you mad," -One step forward, and three steps back (Olivia Rodrigo) 

"Let's write our story, and let's sing our song. Let's hang our pictures on the wall," -Memories (Shawn Mendes) 

"Maybe you and I have history, but I don't think you know me. Have we met before?" -Have we met before (Eric Nam, Sarah Barrios) 

"Hey baby won't you look my way, I can be your new addiction~" -Everybody Talks (Neon Trees)

"She gets the flowers...right? The post made about her. A love that is perfect, a love I deserved, yeah. A love that I gave,” - She Gets the flowers (Betch MCcarthy) 

“I just heard you found the one you’ve been looking, that you’ve been looking for. I wish I would’ve known it wasn’t me,” -We Don’t Talk Anymore (Charlie Puth) 

“Even when we go through changes, even when we’re old. Remember that I told you I’d find my way back home,” -Way Back Home (SHUAN) 

“You say that it’s all just a blur, but I see you kissing her. No no, you gotta go, go, and I’ll be just fine without you,” -Goodbye Boy (Peg Parnivek)   

“You say that I'm too insecure, you want me to be someone else, but if I'm not the one you want...Just go ahead and walk right out the door,” -Who I am (NIve) 

“She’s In The Rain, you want to hurt yourself I’ll stay with you. You want to make yourself go through the pain. It’s better to be held than holding on,” -She’s In The Rain (The Rose) 

“If all it is is eight letters, why is it so hard to say? If all it is is eight letters then why am I in my own way?” -Eight Letters (Why Don’t We) 

“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel. Love your imperfections every angle. Tomorrow comes and goes before you know...so i just had to let you know~” -Beautiful (Bazzi) 

“Congratulations, I heard you’re doing great...congratulations, how are you okay? I hate that you’re happy, I hope that you can’t sleep,” -Congratulations (Day 6) 

“I know I can treat you better than he can. And anyone like you deserves a gentleman,” -You Better (Shawn Mendes) ☆

“Congratulations, you’re finally leaving. Let’s throw a party here tonight, and toast to the end of you and I,” -Congratulations (Eric Nam) 

“Wise men say...only fools rush in. But I can’t help, falling in love...with...you,” -Fools Rush In (Elvis) 

“Don’t say you miss me, when you don’t call. Don’t say you’re hurting, without the scars. Don’t say you’re here tonight without tomorrow too. Don’t say you love me, unless you do,” -Don’t Say you Love Me (Fifth Harmony) 

“A lifetime of laughter at the expense, of the death of a bachelor,” -Death Of A Bachelor (Panic At The Disco)

“She told me that she loved me by the water fountain. She told me that she loved me and she didn’t love him. And that was really lovely cause it was innocent, but now she has a cup with something else in it…” -Water Fountain (Alec Benjamin) -> Oikawa x Reader ☆

“And I don’t need a reason to keep on dreaming. That we can with this stupid thing...called love,” -Lose (Nikki)

“Don’t take this personal, but personally, I think you should get with somebody like me. But worst of all...you don’t even see,” -Personal (The Vamps) 

“But you got a lot of great songs 'bout a lot of shit guys, you did more with 3 minutes than they'll do with their lives. And we'll buy ourselves houses with our heartbreak songs, screw everybody else who ever treated us wrong,” - Three Minutes (JP Saxe) ☆

“I’ve got all my money on you, got all my dollars on you. And I feel like a million bucks, a million bucks, and I give no f**ks when I’m with you,” -Million Bucks (Smallpools) 

“She put my name in yellow hearts. Her favourite colour like the stars. I didn’t listen very hard, when she told me she was crazy from the start,” -Yellow Hearts (Ant Saunders) 

“And I want you to cry, cry for me. Like I cried for you baby, cry for me,” -Cry For Me (Twice) 

“Please don’t let this love die young, please don’t let this love die young. If I’m going to lose someone, don’t let it be you,” -Love Die Young (Eric Nam) 

“Ain't never felt this way, can't get enough so stay with me. It's not like we got big plans. Let's drive around town holding hands,” -ILYSB (Lany)

“Maybe I don’t want to be just friends, see you only on the weekends. Sorry hope you understand, I like you a little too much for that,” -Just Friends (JORDY) 

“Golden eyes, if it ain’t you girl I don’t want to try. Baby, baby, baby you’re my diamond shine,” -Golden Eyes (Layto) 

“I like me better when I’m with you. I like me better when I’m with you. I knew from the first time, I stayed for a long time cause~ I like me better when I’m with you,” -I Like Me Better (Lauv) 

“Hey pretty Stranger, I think you look cute, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you,” -Your Text (Sundial) 

“And They say, Chivalry is dead. So let a real man pick up the slack, and treat you with respect,” -Chivalry Is Dead (Trevor Wesely) 

“And I Know there’s no making this right, and I know there’s no changing your mind. But we both have each other tonight. So if love is nothing more than just a waste of your time, waste it on me,” -Waste On Me (BTS) 

“I hope he treats you better than I ever could. Cause you deserve the world times two and the perfect afternoons. For you to find who fills your heart even if I’m not the one you choose,” -Chicken Tendies (Clinton kane) ☆

“It’s bittersweet to think about the damage we do, cause I was going down but I was doing it with you. And I say that I hate you with a smile on my face,” -Favourite Crime (Olivia Rodrigo) 

“Find me, in another place in time. If only, if only you were mine. But I’m already someone else’s baby,” -Baby (Clean Bandit) 

“And I might never stop your sorrow, fix you up good as new. But that don’t mean that I can’t hold your hand in mine,” -Someone You Like (Girl And The Dream Catcher) 

“Cause when you said jump I said ‘how high?’ But when I jumped you said ‘goodbye,’ “ -Walked Through Hell (Anson Seabra) 

“I want to love me, the way that you love me. Oh, from all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too, I love it when I see me from your point of view,” POV (Ariana Grande) -> Giyuu x Reader

Have fun :)

[redvoid-40]

Check

Well, this is a continuation of sorts to my previous FyodorxOC snippet, A Game for a Kiss. It has bee sitting on my Drive for a few weeks now. It’s not the whole lemon, but it’s enough for me to post it with its own trigger-warnings. >.<

TW: NSFW content, a bit of manhandling and a bit of misogynist thoughts.

Hope it’s enough to stave off the thirst  for our feral rat-man while I work on some other projects. Maybe I’ll get back and finish this. =.=

Enjoy!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Fyodor let out a deep exhale as his body fell back on his chair, neck rolling over his shoulders in a poor attempt to relieve the tension built up from spending hours in front of multiple monitors. Finding Mary’s ability, Adam, was proving to be a challenge, even though he knew to look for him with the members of the Detective Agency.

No doubt Dazai has his grubby fingers all over him, Fyodor mused with a crooked smile as his brain quickly made a bridge from Adam to Mary and the little indiscretions he had shared with her until now. He thought of how she had kissed him after their game of chess in the library, how he ran his hand up and down her thigh as they had afternoon tea while Eric Blair sat just across from them, and more recently how he accosted her back inside the library, pressing himself flush against her back as he pretended to look for a book on the upper shelves.

The memories alone made his cock twitch inside his pants, so Fyodor pushed them to the back of his mind to focus on his work instead. Despite their proclivities, Fyodor couldn’t let himself forget their relationship was supposed to be professional and that he was being paid - rather handsomely at that - by Eric Blair to provide them a service. And while that service was nothing more than a front that would blow up in the older gentleman’s face as it provided Fyodor the opportunity to better evaluate the Detective Agency’s capabilities, the Russian still had to play his part with diligence.

With a sigh, Fyodor pulled open a drawer to retrieve a half-empty bottle of vodka and a glass to pour himself a generous “pick-me-up”. He downed the drink quickly, face placid despite the burning that followed the liquid running down his throat. His eyes perused the multiple tabs on his monitor that showed live feed of the comings and goings in the streets of Yokohama, especially on the places frequented by the Detective Agency. He saw the detectives multiple times in the last 16 hours, but still no sight of Adam.

Thankfully, he had made great strides on his bot-programs. A few more hours and he’d be able to dump this menial task on technology instead of wasting his time on watch-duty.

“Excuse me,” Ivan called, knocking softly on the door. Fyodor hummed, swirling his chair to watch the door open for the man; he was carrying a tray with tea and pastries and his smile lit up his face as his eyes fell on Fyodor. “Our hosts are enjoying their afternoon tea at the gardens, so I brought you something to snack on as well. You should take a break.”

Ivan, always so dutiful, so grateful, Fyodor thought, smiling. As endearing as he is overbearing.

Still, the simple mention of their gracious hosts brought back the thoughts of Mary he had just pushed to the back of his mind, and suddenly Fyodor couldn’t bear to stay in this small, dark, stuffy room anymore. Maybe it was the vodka, but he felt ridiculously hot.

“There’s nowhere to put the tray, Ivan,” Fyodor pointed out, pushing away from his set up. “But I think I need some time away from these screens. Let’s join everyone.”

Ivan’s ever-present smile faltered, making Fyodor’s own grow into a crescent. “Is there a problem, Ivan?” He asked, though he knew the answer.

“Not at all, sir. Sounds like a good idea,” Ivan said, pulling the door further open for Fyodor. “I’ll just take these back to the kitchens, then.”

“You do that,” Fyodor said as he floated by the other man with a giddy lightness on his steps. Last time he sat at a table with Mary and someone else, he kept his palm resting high on her thigh and underneath her skirt, little finger teasing the elastic of her panties as his eyes enjoyed the dusting of pink that bloomed on her cheeks.

Fyodor sauntered through the mansion’s corridors, making a straight line to the gardens, when Nikolai appeared in front of him. The clown smiled widely, in a way Fyodor didn’t appreciate.

“Quiz time,” Nikolai sang as he walked by the other man. “Where in the world is Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley? What is she waiting for? Or who?”

Fyodor’s steps didn’t pause or slow down, but when he reached the end of the corridor, instead of following the path Nikolai had made and that would take him to the gardens, he turned right towards the main hall, to the stairs that would lead him to the private quarters.

The lightness in his steps morphed into purpose as he marched to Mary’s door. He didn’t knock and he didn’t hesitate before pushing it open, only to find an empty room waiting for him. It gave Fyodor whiplash, causing his eyes to widen at being surprised for maybe the third or fourth time in his life. Had Nikolai misled him with those stupid, annoying quizzes of his? Just because he dressed as a clown, did he think everything around him was a fucking joke?

No, he lives for these little things. These little soap bubbles of human drama that threaten to burst open and drip into the eyes of people around them, Fyodor thought, shaking his head slightly. It was Mary; it could only be her, with that infuriatingly delightful way of frustrating his expectations.  

Fyodor raised his thumb to his lips as he slammed the door close and marched away from Mary’s bedroom, making a straight line to the library, wherein they had shared their latest encounter and also enjoyed a wonderful game of chess that was followed by an even more wonderful heavy petting session a few days ago. Certainly, if she were to wait for him somewhere in this mansion, the library would be it, right?

Wrong. The library was as empty as her bedroom, making Fyodor bite hard on the pad of his thumb in frustration and stain his pristine white shirt with a few drops of blood, just like anger stained his previous giddiness.

Where the fuck-

Fyodor’s train of thought halted.

Could it be? She wouldn’t be so bold. Would she?

Fyodor’s purple eyes widened and his shoulders dropped as he closed the library’s door, much more softly than he had done with the one in Mary’s bedroom. With a sigh, he looked down at himself, at the blood staining his shirt, and immediately stopped chewing on his thumb to suckle on it instead, in hopes the bleeding would stop before he’d reach his next destination.

This time, Fyodor’s steps were languid as he made his way through the mansion’s corridors, back where he had come from, up to the wing destined to their private quarters. Only, this time, he passed by Mary’s room without a glance; just kept walking and walking until he reached his own door.

He took his thumb off his mouth, nostrils flaring when he found his thumb was still bleeding.

Oh well, he thought, whipping his thumb on the front of his shirt, further staining it with red before also leaving a bloody fingerprint on the doorknob. Fyodor opened the door to his bedroom, and at last found Mary Shelley. The doctor was barefooted, sitting comfortably on his windowsill and enjoying the warm sunlight as she stared at the book atop her crossed legs with furrowed eyebrows, mouthing words he couldn’t hear.

Fyodor should feel wary and downright wrathful at the invasion of his personal space, even though nothing in this mansion was his - or maybe everything, everyone was, and they just didn’t know it. However, the turmoil inside him was immediately smothered by the sight of Mary sitting barely three feet away from his bed. The vision was titillating; it made a predatory smile pull at the corner of his lips.

He didn’t worry about Mary going through his things; he doubted she’d ever be so daring, and it wasn’t like he’d ever be stupid enough to keep anything worthy searching in that room. Besides, he could always watch his private security footage later on.

For now, he had something much more entertaining to enjoy, something live and alive that flew into his territory without knowing how dangerous it could be.

Or maybe she knows exactly what she’s getting into, Fyodor thought as he stopped behind her, bending at the waist to whisper in Mary’s ear.

“What are you reading?”

The woman gasped, shoulders tensing at the sudden gust of warm air caressing her ear as she turned her neck to look at the man over her shoulder as if he was the one intruding in her space and not the way around. Though, when her eyes made out Fyodor towering over her, they immediately fell to his lips, darkening until they were almost black with longing. Fyodor wondered if, in the end, she would be the one to devour him and not the other way around.

“It’s more of a picture book, really,” Mary answered, turning back to the book open in her lap. Fyodor followed her gaze, eyes widening slightly at finding a picture of the beautiful tulips of the Gorky Park in Moscow with a brief text describing its history written in Russian. “I found it in the library. It’s an image guide for tourist attractions in Moscow. The photos are beautiful, and the descriptions are simple enough for me to decipher.”

Fyodor’s smile dropped slightly as a hand reached over her shoulder to run over the bright-coloured tulips on the page. “You speak Russian?” He mumbled.

“Not at all,” the woman replied with laughter. “I’ve been trying to learn a bit since Eric told me you’d be helping us, and it’s been very slow progress. The spoken word is a complete mystery to me, but I can read a little. There are many words I haven’t learned yet, but I can make out the general idea of simple texts like this.”

Mary turned to stare at Fyodor’s profile, and her smile dropped at the far-off look in his eyes as he stared at the photo. “Do you miss it?” She asked.

Fyodor sighed. “Life wasn’t easy there. Still…”

Mary’s hand reached up to lay gently over his cheek, pulling his attention from his mind to her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have brought this.”

Fyodor fixed his eyes on Mary’s dark ones, incapable of turning away even if he wanted to. The longer you stare into the abyss, he thought ruefully as he grabbed a fistful of black, silky hair. His hold was firm, but uncharacteristically careful not to pull on any strand in a way that could cause discomfort.

“What are you doing here, Mary?” Fyodor asked, letting his eyes dance all over her features, enjoying her dilated pupils, savouring the pink on her cheeks and longing for her pouty lips.

“I wanted to see you,” she admitted without hesitation or shame, and just an inkling of trepidation. “I wanted to be alone with y-”

Fyodor slammed his mouth over Mary’s, swallowing her words as his other hand encircled her neck, putting just enough pressure to prompt her to stand up, uncaring of the book that dropped to the floor as he pressed her against the wall.

The Russian moaned, upper body folding over Mary’s in search of heat and pressure as he pushed his knee between her legs and ground his thigh against the warmth of her clothed pussy. Meanwhile, Mary’s arms sneaked up his body, taking a moment to appreciate the planes of his chest before wrapping around his neck as one hand reached up to take off his hat and place it on the windowsill.

“Get over here,” Fyodor growled as he pulled Mary back with him to the bed. “Sit on my lap. Like before.”

Mary complied, climbing over his thighs as his hands groped her ass. This time his hold was bruising as he urged her to grind hard against his cock, drawing moans from both of them. Purple eyes fixed on dark brown as Fyodor cupped Mary’s jaw with his hand, thumb hovering over her swollen lips, teasing them until they opened on their own volition to suck the digit into the wetness of her mouth.

Fyodor exhaled through his nostrils as a wide grin stretched on his lips. He pushed his thumb deeper into her mouth as he applied pressure on her jaw, forcing it open just enough for him to shove his tongue back inside. Her mouth tasted of Earl Grey and lemon-poppy scones; he wondered how the rest of her would taste.

With that thought consuming him, Fyodor pulled back slightly, a thick string of saliva connecting their mouths. His eyes fell down further, past her lips, until he was staring directly at her breasts and how the buttons of her button-up tank top strained to hold them in place. The image caused him to lick his lips as his long fingers began undoing the buttons of her top, from the bottom up, and one at a time. When Mary moved to help him, he slapped her hands away.

“Don’t,” he chided, smiling darkly at the gasp that escaped her. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a while now. Let me enjoy it.”

Slowly, Fyodor made his way up, until the halves of her shirt fell open to reveal a perfectly sensible white bra that, to the man’s absolute delight, opened in the front.

“You came prepared,” he said as he undid the clasp, letting the cups fly open to reveal the prettiest breasts Fyodor had ever seen in his life.

Gently, almost reverently, he cupped the left breast and planted a soft kiss on the rosy nipple before opening his mouth to flatten his tongue over it. Purple eyes looked up at Mary’s face, and he moaned at the look of pure bliss on her half-lidded gaze as she stared back at him.

“Fyodor…” Mary moaned as her fingers entwined around his hair, applying gentle pressure. “Please-”

How could he ever deny such sweet supplication?

Fyodor’s fingers tightened around the flesh of Mary’s breast as his mouth opened wide to engulf her nipple. Teeth worrying the erect nub, he suckled hard on her flesh, stretching the skin as his other arm circled Mary’s back, disallowing any notion of escape she could entertain.

“F-Fyodor!” Mary whined, sounding like a wounded animal. But her hands didn’t push him off; instead, they only tightened in his hair, pulling the strands with the exact amount of force to keep him on the line between pleasure and pain. And to make everything worse - or better, so much better - she continued to undulate her hips against his cock in a steady rhythm.

Fyodor growled, sucking harder before pulling out with a loud pop. He took a second to admire his work, smiling at the reddened and swollen nub before diving in to give the same treatment to her other breast as his fingers pinched the abused nipple. Mary’s hold on him tightened as her whimpers escalated, urging Fyodor to double his efforts until she was pushing against him in overstimulation that bordered on pain.

Satisfied, Fyodor bit his way up her neck, leaving teeth marks and bruises over the pale column of her throat as he made his way to her ear.

“On your back,” he growled, twisting his body to throw Mary over his pillows, uncaring that her shirt and bra were still hanging open over her shoulders.

Smiling, Fyodor sat back between her legs, committing to memory the image of Mary splayed over his bed, looking absolutely debauched and ready to be devoured. He was about to do just the later when she shot up, hands reaching out to grab the lapels of his shirt.

“Off,” she said, nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons of his shirt. He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t move to help. Fyodor didn’t remember any of his past trysts ever being so excited at the prospect of skin-to-skin contact, and he found he quite enjoyed having someone so eager to put their hands on him. Let her work for it, he thought, smiling widely as his shirt finally came undone, floating down his arms before the woman peeled it off him and chucked it somewhere to the side.

Fyodor was not what someone could call athletic; he was thin and wiry and ghostly pale. But Mary still looked at him with unashamed want as her warm hands danced over the muscles of his abdomen and pectorals.

“You’re like a marble statue,” Mary whispered, staring at him as her hands framed his face. “So beautiful.”

This again, Fyodor thought, feeling something warm burst in his chest. This softness, this warmth… what’s the point? Fyodor didn’t know what to do with freely given praise and blatant desire; he knew only how to buy people and manipulate them into doing his will against their own.

So he pushed Mary roughly back onto the bed before she could kiss him again and steer him further in this uncharted territory. The Russian made quick work of her skirt and panties, pulling them down her legs with haste before grabbing her thighs and pushing them wide apart, opening her cunt for his hungry eyes without giving Mary a chance to protest.

Fyodor’s breath caught in his throat at the pink folds spread open for him, already glistening with so much arousal he bet he could shove his whole fist inside her with a bit of patience.

“Fyodor?” Mary called to him, voice trembling in a way that he didn’t quite enjoy.

Easy, Fyodor thought as he let out a shuddering breath; purple eyes jumped to Mary’s face, taking in her wide-eyed stare for what it was: fear. Easy, he told himself again as his fingers tightened around the soft flesh of her thighs, wanting nothing more than to tear her open inside out. Easy, he chanted one last time as he let down her legs and folded his body over her until the tip of his nose touched hers.

He had never tried to be soft with anyone before, never cared if his desires scared or bruised his filthy partners as long as he took what he wanted from them in the end. But Fyodor had also never been with someone like Mary before, someone who’d seek his company without promises of material rewards or emotional manipulation, someone who had nothing to gain from letting him use their body, other than using his body back in the best possible way.

Fyodor smiled, hoping it would soothe her as much as her own smile soothed him, even though his personal history attested against such wishful thinking.

“Got a bit excited there,” Fyodor whispered, planting butterfly kisses all over her face as a way of apology.

“You looked angry,” Mary said worriedly. “Are you uncomfortable with me? Do you want to stop?”

Fyodor pulled back slightly with a raised eyebrow, unbelieving she’d worry about him after he had treated her like that; like she was one of those tramps who’d spend nights on their feet around corners of the worst parts of town for some quick cash. As if she was like the others he had taken before.

Fyodor put a smile back on his face, combing Mary’s hair behind her ear. “I never want to stop,” he said, and if those words inflamed her apprehensions, Mary didn’t show. Instead, she smiled at him and ghosted her lips over his, gentle as a rose petal.

Fyodor shut his eyes tightly as he held back from pressing against Mary until their teeth clashed.

Easy.

He wanted nothing more than to pull his fly open and piston inside Mary with no preamble or preparation, like he usually did. But he also wanted to spoil her rotten, have her come apart in his mouth and fingers before even thinking of pulling his cock out of his pants, like he had never done before.

It took everything he had to commit to the later.

With a quick nip of Mary’s bottom lip, Fyodor pulled back and made his way down her body, taking a moment to kiss every single bruise he had left on her neck and pretty nipples, all red and swollen from his rough treatment before. He smirked to himself as her body jerked when he dipped his tongue in her navel.

“Ticklish?” He teased, propping his chin on her lower belly as his hands moved beneath her thighs, hugging her hips to him.

Mary propped herself on his pillows to look back at him with an embarrassed smile. “A bit.”

“I’ll save that piece of information for later,” Fyodor promised. “But for now…”

His pupils blew wide as he moved his gaze back to Mary’s pussy, humming in pleasure as his right thumb danced over those pink folds, nuzzling her labia open to admire the vision before him.

“You’re pretty all over, aren’t you?” Fyodor mused, licking his lips.

Truthfully, he had never put his head between another person’s legs before, unwilling to expose himself to the smells and diseases of the filth he costumed to fuck. But Mary was in a league all of her own. Cultured and clean, she was the sort of woman who knew better than to get within a 2-meters radius of someone like him, the sort of woman he’d watch from afar, imagining all the ways he could make her cry if he was ever alone with her.

Oh, the irony, Fyodor thought, letting his lips ghost over Mary’s cunt with pure reverence, savouring the moan that escaped her throat and went straight to his already straining cock. His eyes focused on Mary’s face, committing to memory her glossy eyes, flushed cheeks and parted lips as she looked at him with desire unlike anything he had ever seen.

Once their gazes locked, Fyodor closed his lips over her clit, humming loudly as his tongue ghosted over the swollen nub; the contact so soft it was torturous to Mary.

“Fyodor, please…” she begged, fists clenching around the sheets. “Don’t be mean.”

Mean? Fyodor thought, chuckling against her clit. Mary didn’t know the meaning of the word, didn’t have the slightest idea of how horrible he was when he was being mean.

“Whatever are you talking about?” Fyodor asked, smiling widely as he stared at her twitching cunt. Without warning, he brought his index and middle fingers to her opening, slowly carving a path inside her. Her walls were heavenly, warm and wet, snug and spasming around his digits as they struggled to take his intrusion. “So tight, Mary. You’re not a virgin, are you?” He asked, even though he knew the answer already; could feel it in the little cord that gave away the IUD inside her uterus.

Mary shook her head, chest going up and down rapidly. “It’s just… It’s been a long time.”

“Oh? How long?”

The light blush dusting her cheeks exploded in a bright red that ran down her neck and to the top of her breasts. Fyodor raised an eyebrow at that, fingers going in and out at a leisurely pace.

“How long?” Fyodor repeated, suddenly shoving his long fingers inside of her as deep as possible, pulling a loud moan from deep inside her throat.

“Three years!” She said, arching her back as she pulled on the bedsheets. “It’s been three years… since I was last with someone.”

Fyodor froze, fingers unmoving against the cord peeking out of her cervix. Mary was… breath-taking, with an elegant beauty Fyodor had never seen before, and a brain that could actually challenge him in chess. Which begged the question-

“-How?”

“Adam… was a lot of work,” Mary explained, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. “Keeping my ability out of trouble demanded so much of me, especially while juggling my Core Training in Pathology at St Bart’s. I didn’t have the time to even think about dating. Not that it did me any good, considering I completely lost control of Adam anyway…”

Fyodor should’ve imagined. Unlike most ability-users, Mary understood her sin and strived to take responsibility for it, even at considerable personal cost. And unlike the lascivious masses, she wasn’t the type to overlook her duties to go out and open her legs to just anyone for a quick fix. Mary was a woman of class that somehow fell in bed with a filthy sewer-rat.

And he’d chew her to the bone.

[heavenseed76]

Contentment

Rating:G

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Summary: Daryl saves Paul from certain death and some truths are revealed

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, canon-typical violence

When mothers lift cars off their children it is not because their love or fear make them super strong. It is because adrenaline will make a person immune to the sensation of pain. Their muscles and tendons are often irreparably damaged. Human beings will tear themselves apart for the people they love. Daryl Dixon was no different.

He couldn’t recall how he was able to get to Michonne’s horse, nor how he hauled the limp form of his friend onto the horse with him. He was vaguely aware that he could hear Dog whimpering somewhere behind him, punctuating the sound of another horse beside him. In his arms, Paul Rovia, wrapped in a saddle blanket, armor long forgotten, slumped forward. Every few minutes Daryl could feel the man tense beneath his arm, locked as if it was welded across Paul’s chest. The man in his arms was in pain, barely breathing, but thankfully alive. Daryl couldn’t think beyond getting Paul back to Hilltop, to Enid, to safety.

Riding in the fog made a trip that would have taken eons stretch even further. There was no sense of distance, nothing to mark the passing of the miles. The trip, longer still holding his friend’s life in his hands, seemed like a dream: the ubiquitous nightmare where you try to reach someone at the end of a long path and the faster you run, the further away they become. With each gallop, Daryl could feel Paul’s life spilling out onto his chest, his arms, soaking the blanket he was wrapped in. He could feel the labored breath, deep pulls of air that went nowhere. At first Paul held on to Daryl’s arm as they rode, though they eventually fell away, too weak to hold on.

Through the fog, Daryl heard Aaron yelling for the sentries to open the gate at Hilltop before Daryl even saw the walls. Aaron kicked his horse into a sprint and easily passed Daryl’s horse. Seeing the end in sight, Daryl pressed his own heels into the flanks of the beast on which he rode and urged the animal to go faster. He followed Aaron straight to the medical trailer, where Enid and Alden were already helping him off his horse.

“No!” Aaron kept the wiggly bundle in his arms from slipping and motioned to Enid and Alden to help Daryl. “Get Jesus!” Without waiting for them to acknowledge him, Aaron rushed into the medical trailer.

Daryl brought his horse up short next to Aarons, and then there were too many hands, too many faces below him, pushing and pulling at Paul. At Enid’s insistence, her eyes full of dread and sympathy, Daryl broke the iron grip he had around Paul and let him slip gently into the waiting arms of Alden and Siddiq, who wasted no time making room for Henry and Kal to help carry his pale body into the trailer. He dismounted Michonne’s horse, letting someone with gentle hands take the reigns from him. He stood staring at the door, behind which two of the people he cared for most in the world could be dying, or worse, turning… Along with his beloved Dog.

He felt familiar hands on his arms, attempting to turn him aware from the trailer, and distantly heard soft words filter through the fog filling his mind, urging him to come away. Hot, angry tears spilled over and silently marked his blood-stained face and suddenly he was unable to catch his breath. He wanted to rush in and pull Paul back into his arms and never let go. If he died… If Paul turned… he needed to be there for that. But Aaron was in there, and he wanted to keep his friend from suffering that end alone.

“Daryl, come get cleaned up.” Carol’s voice was a solid mass he could anchor himself to, as his grief threatened to let him float away like ashes. He started to let her lead him into Barrington House, when Aaron came through the trailer door.

Eyes red, brows pulled in to etch lines of worry into his forehead, Aaron quickly made his way to Daryl.

“Dog’s gonna be OK. Paul…” Aaron’s voice wavered, but he swallowed and carried on. “Paul’s fighting. His lung collapsed and he lost a lot of blood.” Without warning Daryl pulled his friend into his arms, and with a sob he had been holding in the entire journey, Aaron hugged him back, fingers fisting in the worn leather of his vest. Watching them, the lump in Carol’s throat grew, and she had to cover her mouth with both hands to keep her cry from tearing a hole in the comforting bubble the men had made.

***

The sun burned away the fog that had settled over Hilltop, and the morning promised a beautiful day ahead. At a picnic table near the medical trailer, Aaron and Daryl sat vigil, their backs against the edge of the table top. Aaron absently cleaned his prosthetic arm with a rusty can of WD40 and a ragged bandana he kept for the express purpose. Like the Tin Man. Daryl thought. They were both clean, in clothes that didn’t smell like gore. Carol had not been able to coax either man into eating or trying to sleep.

“We’ve wasted so much time.” Aaron sighed and set the rag he’d been using aside. “This is a big damned wake-up call.” He was used to companionable silence with Daryl, used to holding up both ends of a conversation, so when Daryl didn’t respond, he just kept talking. “We’ve been lucky. To make it this long. But this world is still just as dangerous as it ever was. I feel so stupid…”

Daryl chewed his bottom lip, listening. He had been there when Aaron dove head first into being a father to Gracie, burying Eric’s death deep beneath the needs of a tiny, new being. It occupied his mind, it gave him an outlet for his affection and focused his energy. It did not, however, fill the gaping love-shaped void left when Eric’s corpse walked off into the woods. It was one of the many ways Daryl felt he had failed everyone in his life; it was one of the many reasons he walked off into the woods That Day, and didn’t look back. The seams holding his family together tore open That Day, and try as he might, he alone didn’t have the strength to stitch it back together. Neither did anyone else, apparently.

“I did it for you, you know.” Daryl said, his voice gravel in his throat.

Aaron turned his expressive blue eyes to Daryl’s, not having expected a two-way conversation. “Did what?”

Daryl looked away, unsure of himself. “Saved him. I know you two… I know he means a lot to you. I saw Dog attack that walker, and heard you yell, and I just, I don’t know man, I just couldn’t let him die…” Meeting Aaron’s eyes he said, “I didn’t want you to hurt no more.”

Something sparked in Aaron’s chest. Affection, love, gratitude… he didn’t know what or how many of those things he was feeling. He stared at Daryl for a long moment. There was only one thing he could think to say. “Thank you.” Aaron pressed infinitesimally closer into Daryl’s warm shoulder with his own.

Daryl nodded, glad he could make his friend smile, even if things didn’t turn out as well as they hoped. It had been hours, and except for Alden leaving to give Enid and Siddiq room to work, and getting Alex to come in to better assist, there had been little news of Paul’s welfare.

“I know you’ve been coming here to see him.” Daryl shifted nervously. “He make you happy?”

A man of few words, Daryl could say so much with so little effort. It took Aaron a moment to understand what Daryl was asking, and when the implication of the question hit him, he felt like he had been slapped. He scooted away from Daryl on the bench of the picnic table, so he could fully turn to face Daryl.

“You do know we’re just friends, right?” Aaron’s frown returned, and Daryl didn’t know how to respond. “We’re not… we’ve never… Jesus and I are good friends, that’s all.” Aaron watched confusion slide over the hunter’s face. If Paul weren’t dying behind the door of the medical trailer, Aaron may have laughed. “You know Jesus is… he’s in love with you!”

“No.” Daryl sat up taller, and Aaron could nearly see the walls being built around the other man.

“Yeah. He’s been in love with you since he brought you home from the Sanctuary! Daryl, how could you not know?”

The hunter stood, defiantly staring his friend down. “He don’t.” He tried to turn away, but Aaron was right there.

“He does. That’s what I meant! We all have to stop wasting time we might not have, Daryl!” Aaron grabbed Daryl’s bicep and swung around to face the stoic man. “I know you. I know you both. And if there’s anything I’m sure of, its that you two belong together. Even if I was interested, that man’s heart belongs to you!”

It was if the last brick fit into place in the fortress of Daryl’s heart. The realization that not only did Aaron see how he felt for Paul, but that Paul felt the same for him, and had made it a known fact. Overwhelmed with the severity of this revelation, Daryl’s dread swelled, and he felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the world. The truth Aaron spoke filled his eyes with hot tears, of shame and joy and sickening worry. Seeing all this take shape in his friend, Aaron pulled him in for an awkward hug.

The harsh slap of the trailer door snapping closed brought the men up for air. Standing on the steps to the trailer was an exhausted Enid, covered in blood. Neither could move, holding their breath.

A smile bloomed on the woman’s face as she said simply, “He’ll be OK.”

***

In his own bed inside Barrington House, Paul Rovia looked smaller than Tara had ever seen him. The trip up the stairs and into the bed had worn him out, and he fell asleep almost immediately. He didn’t even flinch as she started a new IV in his hand. She watched him, his breath shallow and lips twisted in a pained expression. He was pale, his eyes sunken. Laying in his bed with only a bandage across his chest, his strong body laid bare and vulnerable, Tara took stock of all the things they would have lost if the man in front of her hadn’t made it home. Despite his reluctance, Paul was a good leader, and she tried every day to convince him of it. People loved and respected him because he was willing to go outside the walls and risk it all to strengthen them.

“How is he?” Daryl’s low rasp shook Tara from her reverie.

“Exhausted. He’s got some pain killers, so he’s comfortable enough to sleep.” Tara covered Paul in a thin blanket. “Come in. Sit. I’ll be back in a bit to check on him.” Sheepishly, Daryl entered the room, letting Tara give his arm and affectionate squeeze as she went past.

It had been several days since the cemetery, and Daryl had barely slept. Seeing Paul gravely injured had shifted something inside him, something Aaron had nudged to hang just the right way.

“Gonna keep watch on me?” Paul’s voice was just a whisper on his lips. He turned his palm up on the bed, an invitation.

Daryl sat on the edge of the bed, slipping his big hand into Paul’s smaller one. “Feelin OK?” He let his thumb caress the top of Paul’s hand.

Paul nodded, then winced, which Daryl caught even though he tried to hide it. “As long as I don’t move. Or breathe.” He gave a Daryl a thin smile. “You’re too far away.”

Daryl slipped off his boots and lay down beside Paul, mindful of the bandage across his chest. “This OK?”

Paul hummed affirmatively. His limbs were heavy, though he positioned himself close enough to lay he head on Daryl’s shoulder. He laced his fingers together with Daryl’s between their bodies. He could feel the other man relax against him, and if he hadn’t been so exhausted, Paul may have quipped at Daryl to make him blush.

“I’m sorry.” Daryl placed a firm, confident kiss on Paul’s forehead. “Wasted too many years. We have a chance now and I ain’t gonna fuck it up.” He reached over and felt the smooth skin of Paul’s temple with the back of his hand, reveling in the new-found ability to show his affection.

Paul took his hand, kissing the palm and then holding it to his chest, just above his bandage. “You better not. I love you, Daryl Dixon, but you know I will kick your ass.” Paul’s lips quirked up on one side and he peered at Daryl through heavy eyelids.

Daryl huffed a laugh and kissed Paul’s head again, snuggling into the warmth of the other man’s presence. They fell asleep, Paul holding Daryl’s hand to himself, so the hunter could feel every beat of his heart. That is where Dog found them, limping on a bandaged leg, letting Aaron help him into the bed to curl up at their feet, content.

[daydreamingintheimpalax]

Four No’s and a Yes.

Prompt: Write about someone who gets proposed to five times on Christmas Eve.

Warnings: None, cuteness, fluff i guess lol

Dean x Reader (Childhood friends)

Chritsmas Eve 2016.

The Y/L/N’s house was decorated to the T, Mrs. Y/L/N always went all out for Christmas and to say Dean loved it was an understatement. Dean had grown up next door to y/n and her family all his life, every Christmas was spent with his best friend and her family, their families took turns every year on which family would host the big Christmas dinner. It was Christmas eve, this year, Y/n’s family was hosting Christmas Eve and Day. 

He watched as you sat down across from him, the same way you did every year, this time your boyfriend of almost a year sitting next to you. Dean frowned but for the most part accepted him and tried to make Carl as welcome as possible. 

It’s not that he disliked the guys she dated, he just never thought they were good enough for his best friend, it had nothing to do with the fact he’d been inlove wih you almost all his life, despite what Sam and his parents had to say about it. 

The meal conversations began, Dean smiled as he watched Sam’s wife wipe a smudge of food off his brothers face before then placing a small peck on his cheek. He was imsensely happy for his little brother, he had tried to find love himself but despite all the girls that came and went, none were ever good enough to bring home to Mary and John, none ever compared to, well, you. 

“So Dee, any news about that girl you took out last week? She seemed nice.” You ask, shoving a fork of ham into your mouth, he chuckles watching before he replies, “uh no, didn’t pan out, first date and she was already naming our kids.” He shakes his head, cringing. Y/N makes a funny grossed out face, “Yikes, stage 5 clinger”, Dean smirks, “Exactly, not my style, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” Carl pipes up, raising an eyebrow at Dean. Right, Carl hated when Dean called you by a pet name, sucks for him doesn’t it. Dean shrugs, y/n reassures him its just for fun, that they’ve been friends forever and Dean’s the only other man allowed to call her that. Carl doesn’t seem happy but strugs it off. 

It’s almost 9 Pm when Carl speaks, he stands up from the tables, everyone having had a few rounds of wine by now and 50 conversations going on at once. He clears his troat, tapping his champagne glass with his fork, everyone stops, their attention on him. 

“Well, this has been an amazing night, y/n your family is incredible, i’m so happy to have shared this holiday with you all, but tonight, i want to share another moment with you guys, i know how important family is to y/n and i want to make sure i do this right.” He pauses, grabbing y/n’s hand and pulling her up, Dean can see the look on her face, shes shocked and confused, not sure what the hell Carl thinks he’s doing. 

He pulls something out of his pocket, Dean lets out a soft groan before taking a huge chug of his beer, Sam pats his back, a silent signal asking if he’s okay. He shrugs it off. 

“Y/n, i know we haven’t been together as long as other people, but my love for you has no limits, we are a perfect match and you’re a perfect part of me, you make me better, i love you so much, and i don’t want to waste anymore time,” 

He gets down on one knee, Dean watches, slightly angrily as y/n gasps, she slightly looks at Dean and he can see the panicked look on her face, she’s not ready for this, he’s ambushed her. 

“Y/n Y/l/n, would you do me the honor of being my wife, my partner in crime, my forever.” Dean rolls his eyes, his mother swatting his arm and giving him a disapproving look. Y/n stays silent, looking around as everyone watches her, Then, she bolts. 

Dean chases after her to see if she’s okay. 

Carl was never seen again after that night.

Christmas Eve 2017

Christmas was different this year, Their parents had decided they wanted a break from cooking, so they had booked a cruise for vacation, not telling any of their kids until last minute. 

Sam and Jess had decided to have Christmas with her family now that they were expecting their first child. Sam was over the moon at the chance to be a dad, he was going to be an amazing one. 

Dean checks the tickets, finding the seats and throwing the jackets over them, y/n heads towards him, sitting next to him in her own seat and she hands him his beer and the hotdogs she grabbed. Dean was lucky he booked last minute tickets to the wrestling match, not surprised that even on Christmas eve, the stadium was booked solid. 

They enjoy the fights, they’re small local fights, no big names, but they both enjoy it, laughing and enjoying their time together as best friends, it’s been a while. Since she started dating Max four months ago, he barely sees her, he’s insecure, especially when Dean’s around, probably because Dean’s twice his size in height and muscle, but that’s not his problem. Max starts fights with y/n anytime they hang out, so for her sake, he keeps his distance, waiting for her to call him for a hangout instead. 

An hour in and it’s break time, they sit and chat, and before they know it, a voice is speaking over the PA system. “Sorry to interupt everyone, but since we are on a break, it seems like the perfect time to do this. Y/n Y/l/N, if you wouldn’t mind looking up at the jumbotron, we have a message for you from Max.” 

Y/n’s eyes go wide, she looks at Dean curiously and he shrugs, just as confused. She looks at the screen, Max’s smiling face on the screen as he’s handed the microphone. 

“Y/n, i know this is random and out of the blue, but you make me really happy, i know you’re not big on attention and big romantic gestures, but i wanted to do something memorable, so, i was hoping you’d be down for being my wife, will you Marry me?” he speaks, Dean almost can’t believe it, what was with these losers, she deserved to be proposed to, but not so soon and definitely not on the spot, she hated grand gestures that drew attention to her. Y/n barely knew what she wanted to do with her life, let alone to settle down. 

Y/N starts breathing heavy, tears forming as she starts to panic at the whole stadium now staring at her and waiting for her answer, and just like that, yet again, she tries to run but Dean stops her, suggesting they go outside and talk to Max privately before she has a complete anxiety attack.

Another douchebag he never sees again. 

Christmas Eve 2018

Another year, another Christmas Eve, y/n is sitting on Deans couch, the two of them got stuck at the airport due to a snow storm and aren’t making it home for Christmas. They had driven back to Dean’s place and she decided to crash with him, She’d just broken up with her recent douchebag boyfriend and wasn’t in happy spirits. She lies on his couch, sniffling as she watches her favoirte Christmas movie, which is currently everything on the hallmark channel. 

Dean sits next to her, her feet in his lap as he messages her feet, warming them up from the cold. 

“Am i ever going to find the right guy? i mean, at this point it’s become a pattern, every fucking Christmas i end up single and alone, i should just give up finding the perfect guy.” She shrugs, wiping away a stray tear.

Dean sighs, “First off, you’re not alone, you have me. Second, you pick crappy guys, you have shitty ass taste. Give it time, sweetheart, the perfect guy for you is out there, and you’ll find him, you’re just looking in the wrong places.” Dean assures her and she gives him a dry chuckle.

“Oh yea, well if you ever come across prince charming, send him my way.” She rolls her eyes and he laughs. He hates seeing her upset. 

Theyre at the local skating rink when it happens, he finally got her to stop crying enough to take her out and here comes Jack, Jake, Joke, whatever the fuck his name was holding a bouquet of roses and a ring box, smiling widely at her, this jackass really thinks a ring will fix everything he’s done to her. What a damn clown. 

Y/n stops abrutly, eyeing him up and down, she’s definitely angry still. 

“That better not be what the fuck i think it is.” She snaps, tossing the roses in the trash. “Y/n, i know i fucked up, but you’re worth more than-” He’s cut off by the sound of her hand meeting his cheek. 

“NO!” She shouts, a few people now stopping to watch. “You have some NERVE showing up here, after cheating on me and for what? to propose? ARE YOU FUCKING DRUNK? In what fucking small minded universe that you live in do you think proposing to me is going to fix what you broke? No, i will not marry you. Go to hell, Jeff.” She stomps off, as good as she can in skates. 

Jeff, that’s his fucking name. He looks over at me and i shrug. “You fucked that up on your own man, you don’t deserve her.” Dean walks away.

She never mentions Jeff again.

Christmas Eve 2019

Their families get together again, Dean’s family hosts this year, y/n and he had flown home early this year to help with the food and decorations, y/n had run into one of her exes, a guy she dated back in highschool, He’d ran in Sam’s circle of friends, one of his old football buddies. They had gone on a date to catch up, ending up at the local bar with some old highschool friends.

Sam sits next to him, downing his own beer. “Man, why don’t you just tell her you’re her prince charming, watching her get with and dump all these idiots is getting tiring. Even mom and dad know you two belong together.” Sam chuckles, letting out a burp, he’s clearly borderlining between drunk and tipsy. Dean sighs, he’s going to have to call Jessica soon. 

“If i was her soulmate, she’d have noticed by now. I’m not going to make that choice for her. If it’s meant to be, she’ll realize it on her own, not because i forced her to like me.” He shrugs and Sam laughs, “You’re both so stupid.” Sam huffs and shakes his head. 

Before Sam can continue pestering him about his failure to woo Y/n, they hear a commotion, they turn to see Eric covered in beer, calling y/n a bitch and some other not nice words. 

Dean gets protective, not even a split second before he’s standing next to her, shoving Eric away from her. “Easy man, get away from her.” He yells and Eric huffs, throwing his arms in the air, “Whatever, you’re a waste of time, can’t believe i ever dated you, i forgot what it was like being with you.” He snarls before stepping outside, no doubt to light up another blunt. 

Dean frowns, “What happened?” he asks and you laugh. “He proposed, said he missed me and regretted ever breaking things off, said he finally realized i was the one that got away.” She airquotes before she sips her beer, huffing, “Turns out, that’s his game, he was hoping if i said yes i’d be over the moon and jump into bed with him again. Ugh, i hate men.” she grunts before walking out, Dean slaps a few bills on her table before going after her, a semi drunk Sam at his side. 

Chritmas Eve 2020

Christmas Eve dinner is a hit. Changing things up, Dean and Y/n had decided to host this year, flying their families out to vancouver. It’s cold and snowy, but makes Christmas actually feel like Christmas, unlike the warm sunny holiday in california, they love it there, but this year, with the snow, it actually feels like a real Christmas. 

They sit out on the back deck, taking a break from the family game night and friendly comeptition and yelling going on inside. Their families are nuts, but it always makes for a great time. 

Dean’s sure he’s ready, she hasn’t dated anyone since the last proposal, and he’s insane, he’s sure of it, he’s sure just like the others, he’ll be turned down, and he’s willing to make an utter fool of himself, but it’s time, he’s waited long enough, he needs her to know, he needs to tell her, he’ll never be able to truly move on and get over her if he doesn’t at least get an answer on wether she feels the same. 

“How long do you think that bingo game is going to last?” She asks, chuckling and she watches their families fight over who had bingo first. 

“Marry me.” He blurts it out without even realizing it. That’s not how he wanted that whole thing to go, he had planned it out, but plans go out the window when you spend time obsessing on things being perfect.

“What?” She’s stunned, but she hasn’t run away yet, and she’s not hyperventilating, that’s a good sign. He begins to babble like a damn idiot.

“I don’t have a ring, or a proper set up like a jumbotron or some shit, and this isn’t even how i planned on this day going, i’m not perfect, and i have my flaws, hell i’m so fucked up i’d be insane to think i even deserve even half your love, but i’m crazy about you, and i have been since 5th grade, when you gave me my first valentines card because no one in class gave me one and then kissed my cheek and told me you’d always be my valentine. I guess, what i’m trying to say is i may not be your prince charming, but you’ve always been my girl, i’ve never chosen anyone but you, and i realize, i don’t ever want anyone, except you.” He finally takes a breath, too scared to make eye contact, and he sighs.

“I know this is stupid and random and you can totally say no or run away if th-” 

“Yes.” She stuns him, completely silencing his rant.

He finally meets her eyes, “What?” He asks, sure as shit he heard her wrong. 

“Yes, Winchester, i’ll marry you.” She says, this time clear as day. 

He huffs out a laugh, “ Wait, seriously?” he asks, stunned and still thinking she has to be fucking with him.

She shrugs and smiles, “Yeah, I’ve known you all my life, you were always my prince charming, my perfect match, i was just waiting for you to figure it out.” She laughs. Dean’s eyes roam her face, for the first time, seeing how perfect she really is for him. 

“I literally could have been with you this entire time?” he raises and eyebrow and she shrugs, smiling. He shakes his head, not believing his own stupidity before he takes full advatnge, leaning in and finally claiming what’s been his this entire time. 

Safe to say, that was the last proposal she ever recieved. 

[fairyoftbz]

[06:59]

🎄Day 21 of the Christmas project🎄

It was early, but it was for a good cause. Even if you were not very motivated, you had to meet the obligations of your education. The fall semester at university ended last Friday, just two days ago, and you were already studying again. You wanted to get ahead to have a little rest around January before your upcoming exams. Because yes, your university found it reasonable to take schedule tests and reports to submit right before the Christmas holidays, to finally push you to prepare for the semester exams in February. How nice of them. It wasn't a holiday, more like days you didn't go to university, but you had to live with it.

Eric was soundly sleeping in your shared bed, trying to recuperate the hours of sleep he'd missed over the past few weeks, if not months. He was working a lot, almost as hard as you, and he tended to have to catch up on his sleeping hours to be up and efficient. You came back from the bathroom and stealthily walked to your desk, grabbed your laptop before closing the bedroom door, heading to the living room to work without disturbing your still sleeping boyfriend.

He emerged a few moments later, searching for your figure on your side of the bed, his hand only touching the cold sheets. Opening his eyes, you were neither sitting in bed nor at your desk, which made Eric's brows knit. He blinked several times to keep his eyes open and stood from the bed, a shiver running through his body as his feet touched the cold floor.

Typing on your keyboard and turning the pages of your notes for the past several hours, the bedroom door opened on your boyfriend, still looking very sleepy and hair messy. He was pouting as he rubbed his eyes, searching for you in the small apartment.

"What are you doing up so early?" He asked, his morning voice still very rocky and a few octaves lower. "I want to get ahead of the rest of the vacation. I'm still in the studying mood so might as well take advantage of it," you explained as you extended your arms above your head, a few bones in your back cracking from the gesture.

Eric looked at you sleepily, arms dangling on his sides, your words rising to his sleepy brain, waiting to be analysed. His eyes stared at you for a few seconds before he let out a deep sigh.

“Y/N, please stop. It's the holidays, take this time to rest and spend some time with your lovely boyfriend,” he whined with a childish smile, shuffling his way towards you, collapsing down beside you. He took your computer from your hands, put it on the coffee table before pushing the papers off your knees to come to rest his head. Surprised by his demeanour, you frowned with a playful smile, your hand got lost in his hair, and he sighed. He wrapped his arm around your thighs and squeezed them gently, enjoying this little moment of serenity in your company.

"Promise me you'll rest, at least until Christmas?" he whispered against the flannel of your pyjama pants and you sighed, not sure what to answer him. "I don't know, I want to get a head start in the exams revision, I'm afraid of running out of time," you confessed to your boyfriend, who shifted his weight on his hands to look you straight in the eyes. "Listen Y/N, if you don't take the time to take care of yourself and rest, you're going to burnout, and you'll waste even more time. I can still remember your freshman year in college, and I don't want that to happen again. I had never seen you this dejected and depressed, I don't want it to happen again. Give yourself some free time to clear your mind and think about something else, you have plenty of time to work after the holiday season,” you looked at the coffee table without much interest and Eric grabbed your chin to prevent you from looking away. "Y/N, I promise we'll work together after the holidays, but please rest. Okay? Do it not only for me but also for you," he addressed you a hopeful look, and you nodded with a shy smile, earning a wink from your boyfriend. You shut down your computer and stack your papers on the table, nuzzling against your boyfriend, hair tickling his exposed skin.

"Okay, now that I'm not allowed to try and get smarter anymore," you said with a nasty look and playfully smiled at Eric, "what do we do?" "We can go back to bed first, it's only 8:30 am, and I'm still sleepy," he stifled a yawn, and you kissed his cheek. He took your hand without asking your opinion and dragged you by the hand to the bedroom, where the blankets were still warm. In any case, Eric's still were.

You scooted over on his side of the bed to get some warmth, encircling your arm around his neck while the other crossed his stomach. His lips gently touched your forehead and lingered on your skin, sending a wave of warmth and happiness into your body. You felt really good and peaceful with him.

"How nice," you whispered, and he chuckled, removing a strand of hair out of your eyes. "See, I told you. It’s better than studying right?" he replied, and you rolled your eyes before closing them, feeling your body fall back into a deep sleep.

Eric smirked when he felt you slump against him, and he sighed. He was proud but worried, despite your burnout of the last year, you were ready to do it all over again. He could see that you were having difficulty taking care of yourself and getting out of this mindset, but he knew you could be able to do it, even if he had to care of you. He had taken on this mission as soon as he saw you plunge into this vicious cycle of negative thoughts about yourself. Eric wanted you to manage to take care of yourself like you took care of him.

He had a harder time falling back to sleep than you, but that didn't mean he wasn't relaxed. He had you pressed against him, his hand gently stroking your cheek while the other rested on your hip. Smiling when he saw you were wearing one of his t-shirts to sleep, he didn't mind the fact that you stole his clothes, he liked it, it awakened something inexplicable in him. He covered you with kisses until your body heat made him fall asleep, joining you in your slumber in a few minutes.

You emerged a few hours later, your eyes burning from the daylight streaming through the curtains. The alarm clock behind your boyfriend read 10:25, and your eyes widened at the lateness of your awakening. As you were about to throw the covers at the foot of the bed and start your day, but the words of the man drooling against your chest came back to mind. Stroking his short hair, you sighed and positioned your head comfortably against the headboard, observing Eric, who had started to snore, occasionally mumbling your name in his sleep while tightening his hold around your body.

You let him sleep another twenty minutes, kissing his forehead and shaking him lightly to wake him up gently. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he straightened up from your chest, looking at you even more sleepy than the first time.

"Did you plan to sleep for longer?" You quizzed him as he slumped down again, this time on his side of the bed. "I could sleep all day if I could." "Come on, my cute little sloth, we gotta wake up," you said, ruffling his hair for a brief moment, but he grabbed your hand to drop little kisses on the inside of your wrist. "Do you want to order food? I know a good place-” he offered, but you shook your head. “No, we're going to cook brunch. Here, you're going to come and help me, that way you can make yourself useful." "Y/NNNNN, you're not funny," he whined, but you shook your head as he tried to seduce you with his best puppy eyes. “Come on, let's go, darling. We still have the apartment to decorate." "Okay, okay," he pouted, defeated, but straightened up anyway, watching you out of the corner of his eye before pouncing on you, his desperate attempt to keep you from getting out of bed.

"Kiss attack!" He screamed, and you laughed, trying to escape his arms as he began to kiss every inch of skin his mouth could meet. You struggled again, and he stopped, keeping you trapped in his arms as you tried to catch your breath from all your laughter. "I love you Y/N," he whispered in your ear, and you smiled, even wider, turning your head towards him to put your lips on his. “Me too, Eric, me too. But come on, I’m hungry."

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Abridged: 1969

The X-Men, those dino-obsessed mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 52 - 63) - written by Arnold Drake, Roy Thomas, Linda Fite and Don Heck, drawn by Werner Roth, Barry Smith, Tom Palmer and Neal Adams.

step aside, Wall-E, these Sentinels have nothing on your range of emotions (X-Men 59)

When we last left our X-Men, they were smack-dab in the middle of a big, convoluted plot! Let me refresh your memory:

The X-Men had to beat a hasty retreat;

Polaris had joined her father Magneto

Magneto was injured;

Iceman had quit the team because he still had faith in Polaris;

Eric the Red appeared, making overtures towards Magneto.

And the whirlwind continues! The X-Men (sans Iceman and Cyclops) sneak back into Magneto’s base! Eric the Red reveals himself to be Cyclops! They set a trap for Mesmero! Which is sprung by the wayward Iceman! But he has pertinent information! Lorna is not Magneto’s daughter, she’s just an orphan! Bobby (hilariously) has the papers to prove it!

magneto has now fucked up the relationships he has with all of his children before any of them knew he was their father. mad props (X-Men 52)

Lorna breathes a sigh or relief, glad that she doesn’t have to be evil anymore. (Because obviously, evil is hereditary. And even though she keeps sensing everyone’s ‘evil vibrations’, she stayed with Magneto out of her own volition. SO.) Without Polaris’ power to back them up, Magneto and Mesmero flee.

After this, the X-Men come back to live at the mansion again. No muss, no fuss. Roy Thomas, who’s returning to the book, wastes very little time undoing some stupid decisions made last year. In fact, 1969 has a pretty strong showing, with plotlines flowing almost naturally into one another, a bigger cast and the introduction of one of my favourite villains. It’s pretty palatable.

The one snag is a superfluous issue where the X-Men fight Blastaar and Jean kills someone. (Never comes up again, don’t sweat it.) I wouldn’t even mention it, were it not for this moment where Jean uses some super duper mind machine:

does this remind you of... anything? no? just me then (X-Men 53)

So, anyway, remember Scott’s beloved brother Alex?

i love that jean is all smiles about scotts terrible and all-encompassing ability to repress everything (X-Men 54)

I can sort of understand why that whole third Summers brother was such a huge secret for so long, considering Alex was not even kept a mystery and it still took SIX YEARS for him to be revealed.

Alex is barely introduced before he gets the old plot-bat to the face, getting mixed up in a fight when some pharaoh claims all mutants are pharaohs, being children of the Sun? Apparently, all of them are powered by cosmic rays i.e. the sunlight. Alex is kidnapped, as is Cyclops, and just as Cyclops ponders how happy he is that Alex is not a mutant despite him having the X-Gene, he is attacked by the pharaoh and Alex saves his brother using newly minted energy powers! Oh, the irony.

when I say that I want Alex to wear his old costume, I obviously mean this sexy Egyptian skirt-ensemble (X-Men 55)

Alex and the pharaoh are apparently two sides of the same coin, being charged by the same cosmic rays: when one waxes, the other wanes. The pharaoh locks Alex away in a tomb, cutting him off from those sweet, sweet sunbeams and taking all the power for himself. Like a Power Ranger villain, he grows in size and becomes… the Living Monolith! The X-Men take him down while Alex accidentally blows up the Living Monolith’s temple.

Alex, afraid of his own power, flees into the desert and is apprehended by… the Sentinels?! Surprise, bitch! Lorna is also abducted by them out of her New York apartment. Their next victim is Iceman, and they deliver him to… Larry Trask! (Son of.)

My favorite thing about Sentinels is that, despite the fact that they are objectively huge, they are still able to sneak up on people. Apparently, these murderous periwinkle toaster ovens are so quiet, you only notice when they rip open a roof to get at you. (X-Men 59)

Larry Trask hates mutants because:

They killed his father;

He’s a racist.

Determined not to repeat the sins of his father, Larry has a helmet with which he can use to take direct control of the sentinels, so hopefully they won’t rise up and rebel this time. Somewhere, Asimov is rolling his eyes.

On live television, Larry Trask baits Iceman into attacking him, trying to smear him and mutantkind in general. In the mean time, the Sentinels strike everywhere, taking Unus, Angel, Banshee, the Living Monolith… Even Wanda and Pietro. It´s a literal who´s who of sixties mutandom! The only exempt ones are the Changeling and Magneto, the latter only because he’s been a robot for a while now. Mesmero is just as shocked by this unnecessary retcon as we are.

Just as Larry orders the Sentinels to kill every mutant in the compound (including Bobby, Lorna and Alex), a family heirloom is ripped off his neck. Apparently, this medallion was some kind of protection: the late Bolivar Trask knew little Larry was a mutant and tried to hide this fact from the Sentinels.

The Sentinels turn on Larry faster than you can say “Is being betrayed by AI a hereditary trait?” The X-Men intervene and, after unleashing the might of Havok, they end up in a debate with the Sentinels, turning their own logic against them:

Protecting humans is more important than killing mutants.

So, to protect humanity, they must destroy the cause of mutation.

The Sentinels promptly launch themselves into the sun. Neat.

On a side note, the relationship between Jean and Scott is shelved for now? It seems like they’re dating, but also not? It’s such weird storytelling, especially because their annoying will they or won’t they has gotten so much focus in the past and the relationship between Lorna and Bobby is crystal clear:

Scott. Jean. Is it really going to take Chris Claremont to DTR you two? Fuck’s sake (X-Men 60)

Because Havok’s powers still threaten to overwhelm him, the X-Men contact a former colleague of Professor X… Professor Lykos.

Let me tell you about the sheer, amazing sixties wonder that is Professor Lykos. Originally, Thomas envisioned him as a vampire, but the Comics Code forbade vampires. So, instead, Lykos ends up a human who was bitten by a magical pterodactyl at a young age and who can only survive by draining other people’s life force. He can also hypnotize people into doing his bidding.

Yes.

Lykos suspects mutants might be the cure to his strange, strange ailment, and begins to drain Alex. But to his (and our) sheer delight, he turns into a pterodactyl!

I just love this damn idiot so much (X-Men 60)

Be like Sauron! Choose evil!

The X-Men barely figure in this plot. Ordinarily, I’d be bothered by the fact that these three issues are more about the villain than the heroes, but given that it’s Sauron, I’ll let it slide.

See, Sauron’s tale is a tragic one. Not only is he a weird pterovampire, he is also in love with a sweet girl whose father forbids him from seeing Dr. Lykos, because he is… poor! Gasp! (Those billionaires, not even a doctor is good enough for their daughters.) Sauron, slightly corrupted by his dino-side, realize that it’s a lot easier to just kill Tanya’s father than to impress him by robbing banks for cash.

When he attacks the man and sees the reaction of his star-crossed lover, Lykos realizes Sauron is far too much in control. Sauron is too evil! Lykos/Sauron promptly flees to a cold, distant region, the same place where he got bitten all those years ago, figuring he’ll stay in isolation and starve himself of the human energy he needs. But, just as he is utterly ravenously out of his mind, Tanya finds him! In order to protect her, Sauron sacrifices himself by throwing himself off the mountain… straight into the Savage Land..

The X-Men (sans Angel) follow him into the Savage Land. (It’s unclear why? To retrieve his corpse? Annoyingly, in the next arc, Sauron is not brought up again.) There, they run into Ka-Zar, who’s embroiled in a fight with… prehistoric mutants?

Angel, meanwhile, follows the X-Men in their footsteps, only to end up on the other side of the fight, with a strange white-haired man named the Creator who claims to be the mentor of these Savage Land mutates. Angel pledges him his wings, gets a snazzy new suit and flies off to fight the X-Men. Only then does the man secretly reveal himself: he’s… Magneto! (The true one, not a robot.) And he wishes to rule the savage land!

Angel and the other X-Men briefly fight, but soon the situation is sorted out and the X-Men go and confront the Creator. Magneto, who is way too hammy to ever hide his true nature for too long, reveals himself and the fact that he created these… mutates, including the creepy Brainchild. (He’ll become important later.) The X-Men defeat Magneto and he seemingly dies again.

Without Magneto there, the mutates revert to just being regular cave(wo)men:

I love that Ka-Zar, WHO HAILS FROM THE SAVAGE LAND HIMSELF, has no scruples othering his own kin. (X-Men 63)

The comic accidentally ends on a sad note: the X-Men confessing that they’d give up on their powers in a heartbeat. Not to nitpick, but while I buy that coming from Beast and Cyclops, this issue is less clear-cut when it comes to Jean and Bobby, who have a much better handle on their powers and, more importantly, present as human. It could potentially be an interesting issue to explore, but instead, it is swept under the rug, presenting the team (once again) as a boring but unified front. It remains one of my critiques of this era: the X-Men barely get fleshed out as individuals, other than the broadest of strokes (Leader; Rich Boy; Joker; Smart Guy; Girl). Pity.

Didn’t you take Art History? One thing that has definitely improved is the overall art-style. Artists experiment with panels and splash pages, stepping out of the traditional 2 by 3-grid that Kirby loved so much. It makes the stories more dynamic and, because the writers get more issues to tell their stories, the artists get more space to do their art.

I mean, check this ish out:

Fuck yeah, mental powers represent. (X-Men 57)

Ugliest Costume: None! I really like Havok’s black bodysuit with white stripes and the Sentinels design looks so much less dorkier than before. A+.

Best new character: Sauron, duh. Does he team-up with Dr. Doom at some point? That would be some ham-to-ham combat.

Most audacious retcon: There’s a second Summers brother?

What to read: 57 to 59, which is the plotline dealing with the much improved Sentinels. 60 and 61 if you have a soft spot for vampiric pterodactyls.