#not that any of u will kno but i will say it in here since this is like a diary to me

[nosfelixculpa]

Prompto, Gladio, Ignis. I leave it to you. Walk tall, my friends. FINAL FANTASY XV (2016)

[hellguarded-moved]

// turns out me wanting to write about some of the important™ characters is a lot more work than i thought. this might take a bit longer than i imagined! in the meantime, since that was easier, i've gone and created the sideblog for them to use as their main platform for lore dumping and any future interactions, so u can follow that if interested. if you've been following me around tumblr for a while, you might even find some familiar names on there!

[hevendor]

i feel like ppl on the internet overanalyze what makes a good apology now .. i remember wen i first started seeing ppl talk abt the difference between "good" and "bad" apologies like 10 or so years ago n the focus was more like "are they trying to shift blame off of themselves or are they actually accepting responsibility"

so an example as a shit apology is like "im sorry you felt offended i didnt expect anyone to react that way to what i did" n its cuz its basically blaming ppl for being offended

and then other apologies that r often considered bad r ones that seem almost like a vague generic template like "i did wrong so i will do better now pls forgive me" n it doesnt show the person even acknowledges what they even did wrong they just want to skip to being forgiven w/e any effort

and criticisms of those types i accept fully but i feel like ppl r starting to get more and more specific w how apologies need to b as if the apology needs to b absolutely flawless to mean anything n i think thats so bogus ... usually wen someone is apologizing for smth and they actually mean it and care a lot then they r also gonna b v emotional n its weird to expect someone who is spiraling to produce the most perfect well thought out and eloquent apology humanly possible .. like that is a legit skill to be able to write well thought out statements and its not a skill that spontaneously develops based on how genuinely sorry someone is lol ..

of course there are also lots of important nuance in any given situation such as what it is that is being apologized for and who the person is n all this other stuff so of course an apology can still b bad even if it isnt trying to blame other ppl/feels like a template but i still think there r way too many situations in which there are overly high expectations of what an apology should include

i feel like after taking a step back from internet culture i gained more of an understanding that people r just people and are always liable to make many mistakes and to b unable to handle everything perfectly especially wen emotions r high so i feel more forgiveness esp for ppl whos "crime" wasnt anything that extreme or was maybe understandable given the situation they were placed in and the feelings they were likely feeling .. no one acts rationally 100% of the time and mistakes r how ppl learn.. again there is nuance to everything tho

[a-boca-do-inferno]

trouble with a capital T (tony montana x reader)

summary: (y/n) has an unexpected admirer.

warnings: angst, smut-bit of a size kink? idk u tell me, violence, drugs, abuse, dubcon, blood, swearing, domestic abuse, fluff and a little stalking ig. also tony montana

words: 8.9k

notes: this is toxic asf pls beware when reading it. also reader here is stupid asf for narrative purposes do not be like that irl im begging you. i rly have a concerning taste in men and if someone ever finds this i dont kno any of you <3 enjoy!

There’s this new guy in town who looks like trouble with a capital “T”. Everyone has seen him in person, except (y/n). However, by the stories and theories she hears, the figure of this man becomes even more macabre. Nobody knows his real name. He’s known only as Scarface, which should be an indicator of his perhaps not-so-scary nature, but (y/n) is a bit of a coward, if she’s being honest.  

Still, when the girl thinks of him, she likes to imagine he has his own reasons for doing what people say he does. It is a morally questionable service, certainly illegal—considerably inhumane—, yet something inside of her extends this guy the benefit of the doubt. It’s not an uncommon theme in Florida, anyway, selling drugs and whatnot, so perhaps Scarface isn’t of all bad. He is still surely just a man, right? But when she received Elvira’s messages saying there was a shooting in her neighborhood, and that Scarface was arrested for allegedly taking part in it, (y/n) felt a little overwhelmed about her previous considerations. Even if the guy wasn’t the devil like everyone made him to be, he was a criminal. A violent one at that, putting innocent people’s lives in danger, like her friend’s. 

She couldn’t go see Elvie that day, but (y/n) told her she’d drop by as soon as possible. Elvira sent some pictures of her neighbor’s window with bullet holes, six of them. The neighbor was a man who lived alone and listened to loud music all day on Sundays. Why anyone would have ordered his death, they had no idea. But then again, (y/n) didn’t really trust men who’d hit on women even after being told “no” a couple of hundred times. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if he was a rapist, or a pedophile, or both. Anything was possible nowadays. The neighbor managed to escape the sniper’s attack and left through the back, anyway, and Elvira said he entered the backyard of her house to protect himself. She was really lucky that by that time, the police had already arrived at the scene and readily took the shooter into custody.  

Scarface, according to Elvie’s description, was a short, rustic-looking man. He was white, but sunburned, with a stylish haircut reminiscent of the ‘80s and a shaven face. His eyes were big and dark, with a prominent nose, and there was a scar on his left eye, which obviously earned him the infamous nickname. He walked around with a worn Hawaiian shirt and a white wifebeater under it, the one everybody says he’s always wearing; from the waist down, he had shabby jeans held up by a leather belt and old-fashioned cowboy boots. The kind they used to wear in the Wild West, probably.  

The guy was just an almost cartoonish figure, a villain straight out of some children’s TV show. And still, somehow, he was the terror of this city as of lately. Everyone licked his balls in an attempt to spare their own lives. Uselessly, of course, since he didn’t seem to have any real consideration for anyone or anything, except for money. So, it wasn’t exactly a certainty that he wouldn’t kill any of his so-called “friends” downtown, unless they owned something valuable to him—drugs, for instance. 

And him being detained now, for the hundredth time that month, wasn’t really a relief, since he would soon be out. Because no one could ever catch him in the act—he was a professional, after all—, his stay in the precinct’s modest jail was only for a few hours. At most one night. Five hundred, even a thousand dollars in bail—or a bribe, in fact—was enough for the sheriff to release him with a faithful promise he would see Scarface again the following week. And it was no sooner said than done. 

Nobody knew where he lived. There were rumors his home was in the neighborhood next to (y/n)’s, but it was never confirmed. It also wouldn’t make any difference to know where his residence was. Again: the guy was a professional. Even the mayor licked the floor he walked. But Scarface also had his enemies, obviously. On her block alone there were four or five men who would kill him in broad daylight with their bare hands, if given the chance. She didn’t know the story very well, but it obviously had something to do with settling scores. It always did.  

Scarface, the cowboy-boots and burnt-skin, revolver-stuck-to-spine and walk-of-an-insufferable-bastard Scarface, was the greatest example of how the universe does not give any tips. The divine does not send signs. And when it does, it’s a bullet in the head, right in the middle of your eyebrows. Scarface is the universal clue of at least three people a week, but no one recognizes him as such. They’d rather bow to his feet, fearing for their lives, as if the devil had any sympathy in him in the first place. It was a funny paradox. Furthermore, the universe is also a sneaky son of a bitch. So, of course her brother would get into some trouble and end up in jail. And of course he would ask (y/n) to save his ass as she often did.  

She quickly turned around the way she was making to the supermarket and parked in front of the station, luckily only a few blocks away from her destination. The girl entered the room in silence and wrinkled her nose slightly at the strong smell of pee and cigarettes coming from the back, where the small jail was. In the waiting room, there were only two men sitting with their heads down and a guard in front of the hallway that led to the detainees.  

(y/n) went to talk to the guard and before disappearing, he told her to wait right there. She took a sit as far away from the two ominous-looking men as possible and pretended to be fiddling with her phone. In fact, she was distressed. Despite Manny being known for his little transgressions, he’d never been arrested before, so she had also never been to a police station up until that point. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her fingers were trembling slightly.  

The guard finally returned and she let out a sigh of relief. He handed her some paperwork to fill and she paid the bail in silence. While she gave him her signature, loud voices and laughter could be heard approaching in the hallway next to the waiting room. The laughter was undeniably masculine, a deep voice reverberating through the walls of the quiet police station. (y/n) held her breath as her eyes landed on brown shoes touching the floor. She didn’t dare look up and quickly finished signing the papers, going back to her chair while the guard went to get Manny.  

She stared down at her phone, her heartbeat speeding up again. The disturbing laughter ceased and the girl heard a rattle of keys followed by another clang. A thick accent thanked someone and (y/n) let out her breath, thinking he was leaving at last, but the heavy boots made their way to the water cooler right next to her. She bit her lip and sighed shakily, still not daring to look up. The way he was standing betrayed the lack of care for his spine, as he was unnecessarily leaning too far back. His loud gulps almost made (y/n) roll her eyes, despite her nervousness. He really looked like he came out of a cartoon with such deliberately theatrical behaviour.  

The two men sitting away from her got up at the same time and walked out of the station, leaving just Scarface, another guard who was on the computer, and her. But as she had no luck, a voice called that damn guard and he left them both alone in the waiting room. At that point, (y/n) knew the asshole was just messing around with that glass of water he’d been drinking for the past two minutes. And for that reason, she decided to stand up straight and look at him. There was nothing to fear. She had nothing to do with his drug shenanigans. 

The girl was only still hesitant of Scarface maybe trying to do something inappropriate, but she didn’t have time to run when he threw the cup in the trash and sat down on the empty chair right next to her. That man’s sly smile and predatory gaze made her shiver from head to toe. “Mornin’”, he states, his deep voice very close to her ear.  

(y/n) turned to look at him and kept her expression solemn. “Morning”, she simply replies, and perhaps it comes out too imposing, because Scarface raises his eyebrows and looks at her with some humor.  

“A tough one, huh? Just the way I like it.”  

She wants to laugh at his words, but only shakes her head. “Are you fucking serious? You wish....” 

“I wish what?”, he grabs her face tightly, forcing her to look at him. (y/n) freezes under his touch and can’t hide her panicked expression. He smiles satisfied and moves closer to her. “Your mama never told you not to talk to strangers, huh?”, she tries to pull away from his grip, but he pushes his fingers harder against her cheeks to the point of hurting. “Answer me.”  

“You’re not a stranger, Scarface”, she grins and he lets go of her at last. (y/n) takes a deep breath and clears her throat, checking the time and tucking her phone into her front pocket. Thankfully, Manny’s voice is approaching in the hallway and she gets up, giving the guy a scowl. “I know you think you own this town, but remember you’re still just a guy. Get over yourself.”  

“Oh, I know”, Scarface mutters, smirking like she’d just told him a great joke. He stands up and tries to touch her again, but (y/n) manages to avoid it. He then pulls her closer by the waist for a split second, as the guard and her brother appear in that instant. The man lets go of her quickly, and before he leaves, he flashes her a wink, “have a good day, baby.” 

She watches angrily as Scarface disappears, caressing her aching face. The girl turns around to find Manny with a sorry expression, and she clenches her jaw. “Let’s go”, it’s all she says, walking out of the station without waiting for him. 

♡♡♡ 

A week after that incident, (y/n) never left the house again. Until today, that is; she only went to her brother’s because he was starting to get a little worried about her confinement. She didn’t think of telling him why she was hiding for protection, because the less her family knew about that crazy drug dealer bothering her, the better.  

(y/n) walked out of her car fast so she wouldn’t bump into Scarface on the street by any chance. Although it was pretty unlikely to happen, seeing as he didn’t usually hang out in her neighborhood, but she wouldn’t take any risks. No one besides herself knew what went on in the station and she didn’t intend to tell anyone else. The girl didn’t even know if she should have told anyone in the first place. The guy had this city in his hands. If he wanted to find her, it was a snap of his fingers.  

But of course, (y/n) couldn’t run away forever. And the day she decided she’d go to Manny’s without any fear, while she was sitting on the sofa, that damned thick accent came from the front door. She widened her eyes and got up quickly, but when the girl reached the kitchen door, her scared expression met the man’s pleased one. He was smiling at something her brother was saying, however, as soon as he saw her, the mirth on his features was borderline sickening. Still, he visibly tried to play it cool because Manny was there.  

(y/n) pretended not to care as she made her way to the bathroom and locked herself there, hands shaking violently. She sent millions of desperate messages to Elvira. The voices continued to chatter excitedly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to have Scarface at her brother’s place. Like they were buddies. 

Suddenly there was silence and someone knocked on the bathroom door slowly, barely audible. Her heart raced and she felt a lump forming in her throat, eyes watering without warning. Another knock. She put her phone away and slowly opened the door, not knowing what else to do or where else to go. The man’s intimidating presence greeted her and a victorious grin hovered on his lips. (y/n) looked into the living room for Manny, but there was no one. He seemed to have left for some reason, and she felt her world fall apart.  

The girl stared back at Scarface and he was now serious, examining her body up and down with no shame. “So you’re family, huh?”, he muses, his terrifying voice making her shiver sharply. She sighed and went to sit back in the couch, accompanied by him, who was leaning against the doorway and still gazed at her without blinking. “When they told me you were Manny’s lil’ sis, I couldn’t believe it, baby! But here you are, I guess that makes him my brother-in-law”, he states, content as a child who solves a puzzle. “He told me you live alone, right? I might pay you a visit someday.”  

“Right”, she merely scoffs, attempting her best not to show the shift in her seat hearing his words. 

He smiles macabre, moving his index finger from side to side in denial. “You don’t talk to me like that, tigress. Let’s start there”, he looks around, making sure Manny’s still not there, and approaches her. (y/n) instinctively pulls away and he grabs her face just like before, forcing her to glance at him. “You don’t talk to me like that. Got it?” She doesn’t answer and he squeezes her cheeks even more, making her let out a groan of pain. “Got it?”  

“Got it”, she spits out, begrudgingly.  

(y/n) thinks he’s going to let go, finally, but first he gives her an awkward, aggressive peck on the lips. She instantly shoves him and wipes her mouth to somehow undo that contact. Scarface laughs, “you’re so cute, baby.”  

“What are you doing with my...” 

Manny arrived as soon as she closed her mouth, readily engaging in another conversation with Scarface while ignoring her presence there. They talk about people and places she knew nothing about, it sounded like a bunch of codes, and she gaped at each sentence they exchanged. How the hell did they know each other? What was that asshole doing with her brother?!  

Dinner came and Scarface—his name was never mentioned, for some reason, and she wasn’t about to ask—made a point of sitting next to her, but if Manny noticed their closeness, he didn’t pay any mind. They continued talking through the meal and Manolo chit-chatted (y/n) now and then, forcing her to answer Scarface’s falsely innocent and curious questions about what she was talking about. As if he didn’t already know everything about her life, apparently.  

After helping clean the kitchen, (y/n) said goodbye to her brother. Scarface watched them silently from the sofa and she tried to keep her focus on Manny. “I have some stuff to do at home now, gotta go.” 

“You going alone? It’s late”, he frowns.  

She waves her hand to make light of it. “It’s fine, Manny. It’s a ten minute ride.”  

Manolo shakes his head. “Even so, (y/n), you know this neighborhood ain’t safe. I can’t take you home, but Tony can.”  

So that’s his name.  

Scarface—Tony chimes in, not letting her answer Manny just yet, “c’mon, let’s go. I’ll take you.” 

“It is not necessary. I literally drove here!”, the girl huffs, already taking the first step to leave.  

Manny stops her before she reaches the door. “No, no. It’s too dangerous here at night, you better go with him. C’mon, you take her, Tony. She’s just a little stubborn.”  

(y/n) locks her jaw, but doesn’t say anything.  

“I noticed”, Tony mutters tauntingly, giving her an ambiguous look that surely only she saw. The girl took a deep breath and surrendered, waving goodbye to Manny as she walked with Tony to her car. They strolled in silence to the garage and as soon as she opened the door of the vehicle, he pulled out a little plastic bag from his pocket, full of a white powder. He pointed with his chin at it, raising the object. “I just made some business with your brother today, baby, no worries.”  

(y/n) stared at him confused, but still didn’t say a word. Manolo was really going down an irreversible path, it seemed, and there was nothing she could do about it. With a heavy heart, she could only get in her car and pray she’d make it home safe that night. Scarface followed her and started driving, shooting her a smile or two over his shoulder. Luckily, it wasn’t long until they parked in front of her building. He turned off the ignition and got out of the car with her, obviously inviting himself in.  

Of course.  

(y/n)’d been trying for a few seconds to open the stuck gate and Tony notices her suffering, helping her to complete the task. She doesn’t thank him and simply walks into the house, knowing he’s on her tail. His eyes burn into her back, but she tries not to focus on it while starting to unlock the door. She is greeted by her cats rubbing against her heels and she smiles automatically. Forgetting for a brief moment that Scarface is there, the girl takes the smaller one in her arms, hugging and kissing her soft dark fur. When she puts her down, the man is watching her with an amused expression.  

Her cheeks tingle and (y/n) makes her way to the kitchen, with Tony still following in silence. She pours herself a glass of water and offers it to him next, which he accepts, still staring at her with the same predatory demeanor. He’s going to try to do something ugly to her, obviously, and she is trying not to think about it, but it’s getting harder and harder. If she screams, no one will hear her. Fortunately or not, she has no neighbor on her floor. She makes a mental list of what objects she can throw at his head to make him pass out like in the movies; a brand new moisturizer that is full; a makeup bag; her favorite pan. If she is quick enough, maybe she can lock him in her room and call the police. 

(y/n) snaps out of her thoughts when Tony approaches her behind the counter, while she still holds a glass of water. She is staring at his chest when he calmly takes it from her hands and offers her a smile. She tries to hide her trembling fingers from his vision, but he notices them and takes her palm in his, raising it to her eye level.  

“Not so tough now, huh?”, he mocks, making (y/n) bite her own tongue so she doesn’t give him a sharp answer and gets punched because of it. He kisses her fingertips softly, catching her off guard. Tony notices her confused expression and grins again, lowering his face to bring it closer to hers. “What, you think I was gonna keep scaring you off? I’m not that bad, baby.” 

“If you say so.” She mutters reflexively, regretting it right away when his dangerous orbs fall on her. She sighs and looks away. “Sorry.” 

He nods approvingly. “Good girl.”  

There is an old gouache paintbrush she could use to pierce through his neck in case it gets bad. The glass pitcher is over the sink. (y/n) looks at the table and there’s a fork and a spoon. The big knife is in the drawer— 

Tony lets go of her hand and walks to her room. She listens to the sound of his wooden soles echoing against the tile floor a little astonished, before following him. She opens the door, which creaks imposingly through the empty, closed house, and her heart skips a beat when she hears the mattress shift, indicating he has settled into her bed.  

(y/n) is in front of her window to open it, but before she can do it, his arms wrap around her from behind and pull her away from it. She widens her eyes and tries to pull away, however, the grip tightens. She starts to shake more aggressively and an agonized scream leaves her mouth, causing his hand to slam against it, muffling the sound. She looks desperately at Tony and he’s signaling her to be quiet. Panic takes over her body and she gives up trying to get out of his grip. He seems happy with this decision and removes his palm from her lips, laying her body down on the bed and straddling her, legs wrapping around her waist as his knees sink into the mattress.  

Her eyes water and she closes them tightly, waiting for the inevitable. (y/n) remains like this for a few seconds, but nothing happens. She thinks maybe Tony has given up on what he wanted to do, however, when she opens her eyes again, his face is hovering over hers. His brown eyes are scrutinizing the girl minutely, there’s not a single vestige of that villainous smile that lives on his lips. She returns his gaze and they stare at each other in silence. His elbows are propped up against the mattress and his hands are still gripping her arms, holding them in place, but with no force.  

(y/n) wants to ask him what he’s doing, but the thought leaves her mind as soon as he takes a gun out of his pants. She screams in desperation, “help! Help! Someone help me!”  

“Shhh. Hey, calm down!”, Tony puts his hand over her mouth yet again, holding her down so she’ll stop her kicking. She watches, still horrified, as he places the gun on the chair beside her bed. “I’m not killing you, baby, calm down”, there’s a smirk on his features that makes her stomach turn. “Yet”, he adds, taking his palm away from her trembling lips. (y/n) tries to get up, but he pushes her back down. “I ain’t killing you, but I’m gonna do other things.” 

“No, no, please...” 

She can’t finish her pleas as his full lips crash onto hers, now in a kiss deeper and less brusque than the peck from earlier. The girl tries to resist at first, but soon her body speaks louder and she ends up giving in to the contact. She lets out an involuntary groan as his rough fingers lift the hem of her shirt, almost like an animal in heat. Damn hormones, she thinks in the back of her mind, not really caring for that much when his fingertips send shivers through her skin.  

Tony pulls apart so he can remove her garment, smirking at her bra-covered breasts. She blushes terribly. “You’re so cute, baby.” 

He kisses her again and (y/n) reciprocates vehemently this time, wrapping her legs around his waist tightly. His lips trace down her neck and she faintly laughs at the little tickle there, making him lift his face to look at her intently. There’s something different in his eyes, almost adoration, but she can’t finish the thought as he unbuttons her pants and unceremoniously pulls them down, leaving the girl in her underwear.  

Tony drops to his knees on the bed and shrugs off his iconic floral shirt and wifebeater. (y/n) can’t help but smile seeing his near-athletic pecs and gets on her knees too, silently volunteering to strip him out of his own pants. He watches closely as she unzips his jeans and unbuttons them, sliding them down his toned thighs. Tony finishes getting rid of the piece and goes back to kissing her neck urgently, leaving more aggressive caresses in place. A chill travels her spine when his member bumps into her stomach and she squeezes his arm reflexively, catching his attention.  

“You good?”, he asks, sounding so worried he seems to be another man completely different from the Scarface criminal who’s been with her until now.  

She simply nods and lets out another moan as his lips descend to the gap between her breasts, leaving sinuous kisses all the way down. He licks at the sweat accumulated there and kisses her again; a salty, icy kiss. A hand finds her face and trails her cheek lightly, while his tongue invades her mouth shamelessly. His touch is so gentle it looks absolutely nothing like the man who bruised her face twice with his brute strength. Tony gropes down her back and unbuckles her bra, making the girl shiver as he grips her nipple. Soon, he pays attention to them with his mouth and she bites her lip so as not to make too much noise. Still nibbling at the sensitive skin on her breasts, his deft hands slide down her panties and her face heats up violently.  

He slips two fingers into her without blinking an eye. (y/n) arches her back and blurts out a high-pitched groan, which had him chuckling, turning her on even more as his thick voice vibrated against her nipple. When his tongue meets her clit, the feeling is indescribably divine. She’s now a carefree mess of moans and ragged breathing. Tony’s hands grip her hips strongly, holding back her unconscious thrusts.  

He lifted his face again before she came, his chin visibly wet. “Got protection, baby?”  

“No”, she lets out an incredulous laugh. “I never did that, I didn’t have to...” 

“Right”, he says thoughtfully, as if just connecting the dots now. Tony fumbles in his pockets and doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for, so he looks back at her. “I got nothing on me either.”  

“What now?”  

They exchange a silent look and he shrugs, getting back on top of her body. “Now I’m pulling out y qué sea lo que Dios quiera.”  

(y/n) is going to protest, but Tony takes off his boxers and invades her without warning, causing her to groan in pain. He soon notices her expression and stands statue over the girl, waiting for her to recover. Tears form in her eyes once again and he leaves light kisses on her cheek, trying to calm her down. She smiles softly at the delicate and unexpected gesture. Soon she’s ready and he starts to move, gradually increasing the pace.  

The solemn creak of the bed is the only sound besides their gasping breaths and moans she can’t contain. Every now and then his golden chain hits her chin, however it doesn’t hurt, it’s but a little friction. His big hands are squeezing her breasts as he speeds up the movements little by little. (y/n) looks to the side and sees the revolver on the pink chair, the contrast of that scene making her want to laugh. She returns her attention to Tony and he’s got his eyes closed, mouth open, leaving wet kisses all over her cleavage. He’s dripping with sweat, just like her.  

He takes her lips again and only then does she return to the moment, losing herself in her own pleasure and letting the orgasm overtake her without precedent. Next up is Tony, who comes with a husky moan and one last kiss. He lets his body slide off hers, pulling out his cock while his cum paints them both. (y/n) kisses his face after the effect of orgasm and he returns the caress, pulling her into a fairly tight hug. She smiles at the contact and lets him hold her there for a few minutes. They’re silent the entire time, until he pulls the sheet from under the pillow to cover them. Tony and her exchange indecipherable, sinuous looks, and that’s when her penny drops. She just had sex with a criminal.  

Jesus. 

“This shouldn’t have happened”, she say abruptly, sitting up.  

Tony also sits down and shrugs.  “But it did. So what?”  

“So it won’t happen again!”, (y/n) exclaims in annoyance, not caring that this man has a gun and isn’t afraid to use it at all. “You need to go.”  

“Already? You just wanna use me and throw me away, huh? Now that’s cold, baby”, she rolls her eyes at his mockery and stares at the wall as he stands beside the bed, his stuff swaying back and forth. “Hey”, he calls, but she doesn’t answer. He then touches her chin and gives her a lingering, incredibly soft peck. She sighs as Tony pulls away and there’s a gentle smile on his face as he puts on his clothes. “You’re cute, (y/n).”  

“Thanks”, she timidly blurts out, not really knowing what to say. The girl looks for her underwear and tenses up as she watches him handle his revolver, placing it on his back again.  

He notices this. “I ain’t hurting you with that gun, you know? You can relax.”  

“Even if you don’t use it against me, it’s still a weapon”, she mutters seriously, turning her back to him so he can buckle her bra.  

He does the task and hugs her from behind, kissing her locks. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything with me, baby, not even a weapon.” 

She turns to face him, hugging his waist lightly. Tony gets serious all of a sudden and lets out a long breath as he finally releases her. He checks his pocket and fixes his messy hair in the small mirror on top of the dresser. Before leaving, they exchange one last look. None of them says a word. (y/n) watches him disappear behind the gate and looks around the empty house, returning to her room and closing the door. She stares at the completely messed up bed and the sheet painted by drops of blood and sperm, which they shared for a few seconds, now on the floor. Ha.  

Trouble with a capital “T”. 

♡♡♡ 

Two weeks after the incident, (y/n) didn’t go to her brother’s house anymore. But Elvira, being such a pain in her ass sometimes, had practically bullied her into going out tonight.  She was anxious, it’d been a while since she went out to have fun like this. Her fear of bumping into Tony—Scarface wasn’t exactly as strong as before, for obvious reasons, but she’d still rather not take her chances in finding him again. No matter how good his dick game was, he was a dangerous individual. Better to stay away. 

So, for the record; she fucked a hitman and was most likely falling in love with him, maybe even reciprocally, just after he got violent with her several times. Elvie obviously didn’t know about it yet, but what would she do when that time inevitably came? Because (y/n) was going to tell her, no doubt. She couldn’t keep it all to herself forever, hiding it from everyone like it was some sort of crime. Elvira would probably call her crazy and even threaten to lock her up in an asylum, wanting to choke Tony if it was as much as hinted he laid his hand on her. And she wasn’t even wrong for that! 

But what about her family? God, if her father knew... He’d go after Tony’s blood. He would simply never look her in the face again, especially since their relationship was already fragile enough because of Manolo. And what of her reputation? All of Miami would talk about this. She’d be the new bitch on the block for sure. No one would respect her, she’d become a joke. Not that she cared about what those people think of her, but it would be nice to stay anonymous. It was safe, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

With a heavy sigh, (y/n) finished getting ready and stared at her reflection, smiling faintly. Perhaps it was best to let those corrosive thoughts for tomorrow’s hangover. She grabbed her bag and locked her apartment, walking down the deserted street. As the club was close to her house, there was no reason for anyone to come and get her, so she’d go alone with no worries. It wasn’t like anyone was going to do anything to her on her quiet neighborhood, anyway, much less on the weekend. Plus, criminals in this town had a schedule and they liked to stick to it. At least the ones who grew up there. 

Already approaching the place, she saw Elvira with some of her friends waiting for her in the line. They greeted each other and entered the club, going for a table next to the bar. (y/n) immediately asked for a strong drink to try and calm down her nerves, feeling rather unfit for that environment after such a long time away from it. At the first glass, she felt lighter and smiling, pulling Elvie to the dance floor.  

They’re dancing and laughing like idiots when a tall man approaches them. He is moving to the song and calmly smoking a cigarette while he watches the girls, eyes glued to (y/n)’s form in specific. She doesn’t hear a word Elvira is saying over the music as she stares back at the guy, so distracted she accidentally knocks over a waiter’s tray behind her, making a huge mess. (y/n) apologizes quickly and starts clumsily picking things up on the floor, while the mysterious guy crouches down and helps her with it. She smiles shyly and they finish fixing everything in place.  

She thanks him softly and turns to go back to her table, but he grabs her arm gently. “In a hurry?”, he questions playfully, an amused smile on his full lips.  

She blushes. “Oh, no, I was just…”  

He shakes his head. “You’re a little shy, I can see that. Let’s put an end to this shyness now, come with me!”, he walks off, dragging her to the bar. “So, what’s your name?”, he asks, signaling for the bartender to bring them two beers.  

“(y/n).”  

“Frank, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Their drinks arrive and they make a toast, while she takes a big swig. Frank smiles and pulls her by the waist, taking her by surprise. “Lost your shyness yet?” 

“I...” 

He attacks her lips before she can finish, leaving a wet, beer-tasting kiss on her mouth. (y/n) has to make a tremendous effort not to drop the beer from her hand, making way for his tongue to explore every corner of her mouth. Frank separates them just to take another sip of his drink and starts kissing her neck. Elvira’s eyes from afar give her a surprised and mischievous look. She flashes her a smug smile, but as soon as she does, her friend’s expression completely shuts down and now it’s one of sheer panic. (y/n) frowns and turns to look at where she’s staring so terrified.  

She’s greeted by Tony’s aggressive hands pulling her away from Frank in a sudden movement. He drags her out of the man’s arms, keeping her behind his body. Tony then hits him with his fist. (y/n) widens her eyes with the amount of punches Tony is throwing at Frank and tries to get him off the guy, but he pushes her away. She looks around and people surround them, watching the fight in silence and astonishment, however no one moves a finger to help break it up. Of course. It’s Scarface.  

No one would dare stop him.  

Frank managed to leave a blow on Tony’s stomach, but he couldn’t dodge another punch to the jaw and fell to the ground, looking dizzy. When she thought Tony would back down and leave it at that, he went over to Frank’s body on the floor and striking him wildly again. She was desperate for help to separate them, but nobody did anything. (y/n) tried to pull Tony away from him and he pushed her once more, only this time she didn’t give up so easily. She grabbed his arm with all the strength of a slightly intoxicated person and made him look at her. The fury in his eyes slowly seemed to soften and he dropped Frank’s semi-conscious body. 

Once on his feet, Tony looks around him, menacingly showing his gun tucked into his pants. Everyone scatters like startled ants immediately, without him having to say a word. When they’re alone, he glances at Frank one more time and looks back at (y/n). His anger seems to have returned.  

“I wish I done that to you”, he begins, his thick voice making her shiver. She takes a step back, but he grabs her by the neck and pulls her close again. “Lucky for you, I’m doing good lately, baby. So I’m generous, you know? But you both should be fucking dead now.” (y/n)’s hands start to shake and her eyes water instantly at his words, fear taking over her entire body. She tries to free herself from his grip, but he won’t let her. He continues, “you are mine. Ain’t no one touching you but me from now on. Got it?” 

“Yes”, she chokes, tears falling down her face uncontrollably.  

Tony, however, doesn’t seem to feel any remorse for her deplorable state. Finally his hand lets go of her neck and she takes a deep breath, sobs leaving her throat aggressively. (y/n) gets as far away as possible and before she knows it, she’s running away. He doesn’t come after her, which she mentally thanks. She felt so scared and angry at that moment that she couldn’t think of anything but running, running for her life.  

♡♡♡ 

(y/n) got home and locked the door thoroughly. She isolated in her room and cried herself to sleep. It was dawn when she managed to close her eyes and rest for a few hours, only to be woken up by a loud noise outside the next day. There were loud bangs on the door, nearly knocking it over. Her breath hitched and she made sure to lock the bedroom door. Maybe she could just pretend nobody was home.  

Another banging thud, now it sounded like someone jumping on the floor. Then there was yet another furious knocking, this time on the front door. Her stomach turned. A bang on the window echoed in her ears and (y/n) began to cry profusely, sobbing in terror. A crash startled her and her eyes widened seeing the wooden blinds breaking in front of her.  

She unlocked the bedroom door in a second and ran behind her apartment, opening the kitchen door as it lead to emergency stairs. Footsteps approached once she managed to get out and run across someone’s yard. She looked for somewhere low enough for her to reach so she could climb, finding a little doghouse in the corner. There wasn’t anybody or anything around, thankfully. However, as soon as she started to take off, big arms grabbed her waist from behind, pulling down her body violently.  

She kicked as hard as she could, but Tony wouldn’t let go. He towed her back into her house and locked the kitchen door, dragging her by the arm back to her room. He threw the girl on the bed without any delicacy and looked at her from where he was standing. She continued to cry copiously, all her strength quickly draining away. (y/n) crouched close to the headboard and watched him sit on the far side, studying her in silence.  

“Crying ain’t doing you no good, baby.” She turns her face to the wall and he walks in her direction, crawling until he’s next to her. He whispers in her ear, “you can’t win for losing.” 

“Shut up!”, she pushes him away, taking Tony by surprise. He looks at her with raised eyebrows, but he doesn’t look annoyed.  

He looks pleased.  

“C’mon, now”, Tony approaches again, grabbing her chin to make her eyes stay on his. “Now, now you look like the fucking girl I met in that station. Badass baby”, (y/n) tries to pull away, but he doesn’t let her and gives her a forced peck. His stubble scratches her face and she grimaces, dodging and breaking the contact. This seems to irritate him deeply, because in the next second, his palm meets the soft skin of her cheek and the sensation burns. Tony pointed in her direction, warning, “don’t you ever do that again.”  

“I do whatever the hell I want”, she spits out, not caring about the consequences at this point.  

He gets hold of her neck, glaring. “No. You do what I want, you bitch.” 

(y/n) smirks, mockingly. “You think you’re offending me? How cute.”  

Tony then slaps her again, this time much harder, and she laughs out loud at his fragile ego. She pulls herself together and faces him again, pretending not to be shaken. Tears have dried under her eyes and she only cracks a half smile, taking in his scowling features. “You men are such a joke, so easy to figure out.”  

“Careful, baby”, he says in a warning tone, making her chuckle once more.  

“Who do I have to be careful with, you?”, she asks smugly, smacking the hand he lifted to squeeze her neck again. Tony is surprised, although he’s trying really hard not to show it. “You...”, she continues, lightly touching the collar of his shirt. “Who would never hurt me with a gun?”, (y/n) mimics his thick voice. He seems to get annoyed at that and takes her hand away from where it was, which makes her smile victoriously.  

Okay, so it’s not so bad having a criminal with a crush on her.  

“Shut up”, he orders.  

She simply shrugs and brings her face closer to his. Tony places a gentle kiss on her lips and excitement burns inside her as his palm goes straight to her ass, squeezing it. “Hold up, cowboy”, (y/n) mutters, although not really caring about his impatience. “Wanna explain to me what was that about last night?”  

“Told you, you’re mine.” He reiterates casually, trying to pull her onto his lap and kiss her, but she doesn’t allow it. Tony frowns again, speaking with a heavy accent, “what is it now?”  

“You almost killed the guy”, (y/n) points out. She didn’t want to make him feel remorseful or anything, she knew he just wouldn’t; it was all on her curiosity about the sick psychology in his head. She touches the collar of his shirt again and looks into his eyes, the most sincere she’s been so far, and practically begs, “what do you want from me, Tony?”  

Something very similar to confusion runs through his brown orbs, but it’s only for a millisecond, as he looks at her sternly right after. His hands remain promptly by each side of his body, and it makes her a little bit relieved he’s respecting her wishes. It’s a start. 

Of what exactly, (y/n)?  

“I want you, baby”, he says. His voice doesn’t betray any kind of vulnerability, though his gaze conveys less solemnity than his words. She watches him in silence until her eyes inevitably water. Tony frowns and touches her face quickly, holding her like she was the most delicate thing in the world. “What is it?”  

How can he not see? How does he have the courage to even ask what happened? Or are his actions merely impulsive and completely thoughtless, is that it? Does he not know that he was just hurting, hitting her? Does he not know that he was just insulting (y/n) and treating her like a goddamn worthless object? Because the same hands that slapped her cheek minutes ago are now hugging her and stroking her back, as if in an attempt to ease her loud sobs.  

She hears his voice in her ear, soothing, kissing her neck lightly. Maybe it’s all a dream, a hallucination in her head as she’s unconscious with this man doing God-knows-what to her. But it is not. His touch is as real as it was the last time, his pleasure intertwining with hers in a magnificent, if improvised, dance. And it’s as real as the first time their lips met, in a sheer display of power and dominance on his part, but which now reminded her only of a caress exchanged between two lovers. A comfort.  

“(y/n)...”, his deep voice calls again, however her eyes are glazed over the shattered window in front of her. He lifts her face to look at him and there’s a kind of desperation in his expression, even if it’s held back by pride greater than his own ego, if that’s possible. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“I know.” She hears herself speak, sort of in reflex, since it was true. She knew deep down he didn’t mean to hurt her. Maybe at first, yes, but then... Following that afternoon, a new chapter of this crazy story began to unfold. And they are entering one more after last night.  

“It’s true”, he reenforces, and (y/n) really wishes she had the strength to tell him that it’s okay, she understood, but the truth is that she was tired. Sold out. It had been so long since she had slept or eaten anything and she felt her limbs giving up on supporting her body at any moment. “(y/n)”, Tony insists, yet his voice is already a low sound that becomes more and more distant in her mind.  

Soon she doesn’t feel anything anymore.  

♡♡♡ 

The first time (y/n) opens her eyes, everything is blurry. On the second attempt, she notices a figure sitting on the chair beside her bed and a dim light coming from the window. On the third blink, she realized she had probably passed out—for how long was her first question, as the sun outside seemed to point at one or two in the afternoon.  

Tony was silently watching her as she positioned herself and felt her head almost explode into a thousand pieces. Her throat was dry, an unparalleled taste of shit in her mouth reminding her she hadn’t even brushed her teeth due to everything that had happened that day since she woke up. A sigh escaped her lips and (y/n) closed her eyes again, giving up on her efforts to sit up against the headboard. She felt so weak. Her fingers were trembling slightly and she was freezing to death, even with the sun at its peak and all the covers over her on the bed. She felt dizziness enveloping her body and thought she was going to faint again, but a large, rough, careful hand touched her arm.  

Tony looked hesitant, worried, recluse even. His eyes didn’t leave hers for a second and she felt slightly invaded, undressed as his irises watched over her without blinking. She stared at his palm on her forarm and tried to calm down, although her heart hammered inside her chest. “You didn’t eat anything today, did you?”, he asks, but it’s a rhetorical question.  

Tony then leaves her alone, not waiting for an answer, and returns with a plate in one hand and a glass in the other. (y/n) stares at the image in front of her and feels like chukling, but she contains herself. Instead, she sits up with some difficulty as he hands her the meal, returning to his rightful place on the pink chair. She takes a couple of bites and a huge relief rushes through her body as the food reaches her stomach. It had been almost a day since she had anything to eat. She didn’t even know how she didn’t vomit her ass off with all the alcohol she had last night.  

The girl sipped the juice as she paid more attention to her surroundings. Tony took care of her while she was unconscious and even cooked. He, the hitman who scared even the most dangerous gangsters in Miami, cooked her a stroganoff and made her an orange juice. It sounded like a scene from a sugary romance movie.  

“It’s just a hangover”, she finally speaks up, her throat still a little dry.  

“It’s not”, Tony turns around and sits leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, looking at her intently. She gazes at her plate and continues to eat in silence, while he continues, “I’m real sorry, (y/n).” If she hadn’t been so tired, she would have spit out her juice in surprise. (y/n) glanced at him completely horrified, as if he had confessed to an atrocity. Tony stays with the same solemn expression, a little less proud now.  

“For what?”, a shiver runs down her legs. She didn’t want to be insistent, but curiosity was killing her inside.  

Tony, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered by the question. “For hitting you. And for doing all of that last night.”  

“You shouldn’t apologize to me for what you did”, she mutters bitterly. 

Tony only shrugs. “I didn’t mean to hit you.” He repeats, and she closes her eyes when all that tangle of feelings hits her chest once more. He reaches over and takes her hand, giving her a pleading look. “I swear I ain’t ever laying a finger on you again, baby. You gotta believe me.”  

Her eyes water involuntarily and she holds his hand back firmly, looking at him with a half-broken smile, trying in vain to give him some comfort. “I know”, she begins, voice cracking at the end. “I know, okay? You were angry. I understand.”  

Tony scowls and shakes his head. “No. (y/n), that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t...” 

“I know. It was wrong, Tony, I know, but you didn’t think straight. And neither did I, actually. It happened, there’s no reason to dwell on it. Everything is fine, really.” She looks into his eyes once more and smiles when he nods after a while, still a little hesitant. The girl brings his hand to her lips and kisses it slowly.  

He smiles weakly. “You scared the fuck out of me, you know”, he mumbles, and there’s a hint of desperation in his voice. “I thought I did something to make you pass out. The fear, I don’t know...”  

“That wasn’t it. I’m not afraid of you, Tony”, she assured him, since it wasn’t a total lie. When he was just him, without that domineering, abusive criminal side, she wasn’t afraid of Tony. No longer. (y/n) sighs and finishes her meal, setting her plate on the table beside her, feeling considerably better. “Come here”, she extends her arms to him and Tony goes without blinking, hiding his face in her neck and lying with her on the bed.  

She didn’t know exactly what that meant. Having sex with a murderer who only mistreated her already wasn’t so understandable, but having some kind of relationship with him? It sounded pathetic in her mind. It’s not like he would even want anything to do with her besides sex, but she couldn’t believe that as the seconds went by and he kissed her neck so softly, apologizing endlessly for his transgressions, mumbling that he would never hurt her again, that she’d never need to be afraid of him again...  

Her head was going to explode.  

(y/n) looked down to meet his gaze and stroked his hair, smiling like a lovestruck idiot. She just couldn’t believe this was happening—and somehow she did. Because of course she wouldn’t resist for long. Even when she was shaking like a leaf, still she couldn’t fight his caresses, imagine it now that Tony seems so willing to make up for all his mistakes? 

“Antonio...”, he mutters, barely audible, making her frown. He gives her a small smile and kisses her, mumbling against her lips, “my name.” 

“Really?”, (y/n) asks in disbelief, since now she was probably the only person in town who got that information, but Tony seemed more than comfortable sharing it with her.  

He’s still looking at her with the same little smile on his face. “Really. Why?” He lifts his body to rest on one arm, staring at the girl with some amusement.  

She grins and kisses him again, leaving several pecks on his stubble. “For nothing. It’s just a really nice name.”  

Her eyebrows dance and he laughs, making her insides melt at the sound of his laughter. It was the first time she heard it and she didn’t want to hear any other sound for the rest of her life. It was such a full 180 from the big, bad Scarface. 

(y/n) knew “I want you” was very far from “I love you”, but that knowledge didn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat whenever she remembered those words. Besides, even if the latter was the case, it was just never going to be that simple with Tony. She looked at his sparkling brown eyes and let out a deep, dreamy sigh. She was down hard for that dangerous, dangerous man, yet there was nothing but softness inside of her as he held her into his arms. What he did away from her could be as ugly as it came to be, and it still would never compare to how warm she was in his presence—be it for the anger, for the lust or for the comfort he made her feel. So, it was fine. She could handle it.  

She’s always been a bit of a troubleshooter, anyways. 

[moral-terpitude]

hi I love your work so much !! and I wanted to know if I could request (not sure if I’m doing this right since I’m not all too familiar with tumblr) a Thomas Shelby imagine where y/n cut ties with her family long before she meet tommy, married him, had kids, etc ya kno her happy ending and they track her down to arrow house like “ya there’s probably a maid here that goes by y/n were just gonna be taking her with us” and tommy goes all protective husband mode like “no she’s the lady of this house and MY wife” thank you and luv u

Oh sweet Anon! Thank you so much! It makes me happy to hear it. I’ve jumped the queue a bit to do this cause I was particularly in the mood for it today!

November.

The morning was cold as you donned your coat and made your way to your husbands office before heading in to town.

You knocked, but entered without waiting for a response, opening drawers and searching for a pen while he finished a phone call.

“Where are you off to?” He asked as he returned the phone to the receiver, fingers creeping under your wool coat to warm your lower back, although it seemed to be you warming him with how cold his hands were.

“I’ve a doctor appointment and I figured while I was in town I would finish gathering presents for the kids and pay the charge account at Lewis’ and the grocer.”

“I know two of the things on that list Frances said she would take care of, eh?”

You smiled as his hands roamed your stomach. Under the right dress no one could tell yet, but you were roughly four months along with the fifth child between the two of you. All together a household of eight, caring for Tommy’s first child like your own. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I need to get out. I can’t stay held up here for nine months, love.” You bent to kiss his cheek and offered the pen to him, and he signed the three checks without much more of a question about how you’d be spending the day.

He had teased you for your frugality, but you could tell he secretly enjoyed the way you planned, picking up presents for under the tree throughout the year made it easier to wrap and hide them, although Frances was usually your accomplice in that regard.

Stopping by Lewis’s after the doctor, there was a new girl working at the counter that, due to your unfortunately short patience with the cold and lack of bladder retention, was frustrating you.

“What did you say the name was on the account, ma’am?”

“Shelby.”

Footsteps echoed all around you as she looked through the stack of papers, pulling four folders, as you spied the one with your name.

“It’s that one.” You spoke, pointing at the one she held in her hand.

“Ma’am, the name on the check doesn’t match the name on the account.”

“Well the account is under my name, that’s why.”

She sighed, “Just give me a moment.”

She retreated in to the room behind the counter, emerging moments later after many hushed whispers with a concerned looking Betty, who usually took care of the transaction for you.

“I’m sorry ma’am.”

“It’s no trouble.” You reassured her.

“This is Mr. Shelby’s wife,” she whispered, “He doesn’t approve the charges on the account, which is why it isn’t in his name.”

The younger girl nodded, taking in the information.

Betty winked as she took the check and gave you the yellow copy of the receipt, marking it paid, as you departed with the two bags.

By the time you returned home, you were nothing short of exhausted. Mary entertained the smaller children upstairs, finally getting them to settle for a nap before helping you wrap the presents and put them with the others deep in the darkest part of the pantry.

Opting to spend the time before dinner resting, Tommy read the newspaper in the armchair at your feet while you drifted in and out of sleep.

You only woke when Frances spoke, “Mr. Shelby, I believe there’s a misunderstanding. There’s a man at the front door, but I told him I’d retrieve you to speak with him instead.”

He nodded, donning the holster he had shed before you took your nap, as uninvited guests to Arrow House weren’t a regular occurrence.

A minute or so later, you pulled on your sweater, trailing him to find out what was going on.

“I’m telling you,” the familiarity in the voice wasn’t lost on you after all these years, “your maid, the one that was at Lewis’ this morning, is my daughter! They were giving her problems paying the charge account. My other daughter was there and overheard part of the conversation. I’ve come to get her. She needs to come home.”

Tommy chuckled, your name leaving his lips, not calling to you, but reiterating it to your father who now you could see stood before him furious at how close you had been, but still out of his grasp for the last, what, 15 years. The fact your father thought he could force a grown woman to come home was almost amusing.

The posture your husband wore wasn’t unfamiliar at this point. His shoulders were squared, and you felt like a child peeking around the door and into the hallway at fighting parents.

Your husband was ready to fight over you.

You figured it would happen someday, but 15 years gone from home? It almost felt foolish.

“Your daughter isn’t me maid. She never has been,” he shook his head as he cleared his throat and lit a cigarette, before pulling the gun from the holster, it resting at his side, not yet with the intention to use it. “She’s the Lady of this house though, and she has been me wife for the last 10 years.”

Your father stared at him blankly, but you could see the tension wash over him. You could see the thought, that truly there was no way you had married up in class, residing here happily without another thought for your family.

“And if you don’t leave before she sees you,” he cocked the gun, still at his side, “from the stories I’ve heard of you, I have no problem putting a bullet through your head and having your body burned out by the river or thrown in the cut.”

You knew those words hadn’t been for your ears. He didn’t know you were watching and so he spoke freely. You slowly crept back down the hall, and once in the sitting room, made a mad dash for the Chesterfield. Frances came through the door as you shed your slippers and nestled back under the blanket.

“I was napping.” You told her sarcastically, her knowing smile as she set down the tea conveying an air of, of course Mrs. Shelby, as far as I know you’ve never moved from under that blanket, as you knicked one of the biscuits the girls baked earlier in the day.

Tommy sighed, the noise preceding his footsteps, and as he came through the door removed the holster and retuned it to the back of the chair in the sitting room as he took back over his paper.

“Who was it?” You feigned ignorance, and even if he didn’t, he chose to believe you.

He shrugged, “Just some delusional man, love. I think he was drunk. Lost,” he lied, his nose crinkling just so was his tell, but you’d never admit it. And he lied so well otherwise, but right now you’d say that you loved him for it, “but I gave him directions.”

A contented hmm left your lips with a shrug as you added sugar to the tea and continued on living your happy life.

[rebouks]

Let's be nosy and see what a few folks have been up to recently and/or since Somnium ended, shall we..? 👀

Kaden/Joey are still around, somewhere.. Joey would probably tell you by accident, but Kaden keeps him on a tight leash. I very much doubt either of them have changed their ways, you can't teach an old dog new tricks and all that... I dunno if we'll really see em again properly, though I never say never!

Brynn, Ace and Robert may have left Del Sol, but Randy and Genesis are still stuck in their old ways. Sissy likes the attention and money from her "job" too much to leave. I think part of her still hopes someone's gonna whisk her away to a life of luxury and she'll live happily ever after, just like Brynn did.. assumedly 😩 Randy won't leave without her ofc, and he doesn't really like change anyway. He's lazy, what else is he gonna do?! The motel barely makes any money either, but he manages with a few odd jobs from the less savoury folks around town. They're doing swell 👍

Luckily, no one ever ratted on Darien and he was far too careful to end up under the microscope without being exposed - especially since Wyatt left the scene - so he moved back to San My eventually. Ever the workaholic, he found himself a job at the same accounting/law firm as Wade (props to anyone who remembers him lmaoo) he doesn't need the money but he'd probably go insane without a job ngl 😆 He doesn't really find it easy to make friends either, and Wade recently found himself behind bars for a lil tiny bit of tax evasion so he's pretty lonely-.. although he did meet a fellow asexual lady friend he's been on a couple dates with recently. They have fun n' get on well, but she thinks he's this straight laced/awkward accountant and it makes him feel weird, like he's lying about himself.. so idk how long that'll last. I think he kinda misses being part of a "family", however fucked up it was.. but most of all, he just misses Wyatt 😔

Alma and Mack have been hanging out more often recently, just casually tho u kno?? She likes her freedom too much to give it all up, and although he's a great lover, he's a terrible boyfriend lmaoo.. I think she's accepted that Mack is Mack so they're not making it serious or official this time. They're not exactly getting any younger either, may as well have some fun whilst they're still here, right?! Kobe's considering moving out 'cause eugh 😆

Brivan n' co are just kinda living life right now, working, hanging out with Jacob/Suzie/Miya a fair bit and tryna get used to the news of Jude n' such u kno? Pixie's hitting her milestones like a champ ofc, but she's a picky eater just like her pappy 😅 Bruno insists he's fine but he's been a lil quiet and weird recently. Part of him still struggles with his old self and his guilt, though he ain't exactly a talker, so he retreats into himself now and then instead. He's been thinking of proposing to Ivan occasionally as well, but he doesn't want to do it whilst he's in a funk AND he's a lil worried (aka majorly overthinking) the fact that Ivan might not take too well to being proposed to?? But wait, nah.. he'd love it, right? Maybe-.. unless he hated it, maybe he'd rather be the one to ask-.. should he? Yes-.. no, wait-.. maybe?!!? Probably-.. AGHHHHHFJSDK <- said Bruno's brain 🙈

Jessie and Ivan have been taking it slow, mostly since she's so damn busy all the time, but also 'cause they hardly know each other n' all. Ivan's kinda bummed she's slow to trust him, but he can't exactly blame her so he's being patient n' meeting them whenever he can. Jude is so smitten with his new pappy tho, he even wanted to grow his hair just like him 😭 Oscar n' Robin have tagged along a few times as well since the kiddos are practically the same age, but idk if Robin is too sure abt Jude just yet! He's very talkative and he's a big hugger.. I wonder where he gets that from?? 🤣 I think Jessie's finally warming up to the idea of sharing Jude 'cause she agreed to leave him alone with Ivan for a sleepover soon! They're gonna get dressed up n' head to Oscar's for a spooky party! Oh, and Oscar thinks Jessie has a nice rack....... boi plz 🙄

Not pictured/spied upon..

Tilda - she's just existing rn tbh! She hangs out with Brivan/Pixie now n' then which she enjoys more than she'll let on! She's tryna stay away from dating and focus on herself too.. but she's not all that keen on herself so that's hard work 😩 a few dates here n' there but nothing interesting! She's also still ignoring her family.

Noah n' co - Aspen started teaching a few mommy/toddler yoga classes in the upstairs portion of Noah's gallery since he barely uses it, Juni loves it! Juni started ballet recently too 🩰 Noah's still salty with Oscar for not hanging out more but the man's busy dammit! I think Oscar's glad he's on semi-decent terms with everyone but he'd rather keep them at arms length so it stays that way skdjskjd

Salton - Alton's still Alton lmao.. though Sid gives him more shit nowadays since she's mostly retired she's realised he's even lazier than she thought and I'm sure she regrets letting him get a TV! She's a bit bored/lost tbh, which is why she hasn't fully retired yet.. introspection doesn't suit her (so says she) and she doesn't like all this extra time to think n' shit.. ough 🙈

Rhys & Tommy - both finished uni wooooooo! They're staying with Rhys' parents for now tho, Tommy's not rlly sure what to do with his psychology degree yet but he still thinks he'd like to be a psychologist so maybe he'll get a job/save up n' do his masters or smth?! Rhys has been taking on jobs as a wedding/event photographer for now, but he'd like to veer more towards photography as an art form-.. tho he's not sure how to go about that just yet either 🤔 they're figuring it out and they're happy so it doesn't rlly matter toooo much for now

Uhhhhh idk I've probably missed some folk out but feel free to ask abt anyone else in the comments! 🧡

[cupcakeinat0r]

A couple of yall asked for the booty routine so here u go, shawty <3

Ik this looks like a lot, but trust, bae, it’s important. I felt like if ima talk abt my routine, might as well talk a lil bit abt food too since both work as a team.

[First, let me say that I am by no means a professional. This is something I've learned and acquired through self-research, as well as having two siblings, one who is a bodybuilder and the other who is a personal trainer. Also, the gym is a safe n fun space for everyone:) Work out because you want to, not bc you think you need to look a certain way <3]

Here's my Split: I added my upper body days as well in case yall wanted to kno <3

Monday: Glutes + quads

Tuesday: Back + Biceps

Wednesday: Glutes + Hamstrings

Thursday: Chest + Tricep

Friday: Full Body

Saturday + Sunday: Active rest!!! (Could be running, walking, bicycling, etc., whatever is fun to do! My personal fav is the stair master for an hr or Running for 3 miles, but you do whatever you can. Listen to your body.)

In addition, I do cardio after each sesh on the weekdays. For me, that's running for like 2 miles or so, depends how I'm feeling, but you do whatever cardio you'd like! A good start could simply be inclined walking!

Also, pls pls pls remember rest days are VITALLL. If u want to grow that booty (which is something the couple of you specifically mentioned), those rest days are important bc this is the period when those muscles are actually repairing themselves from the workout, resulting in growth!!! A huge misconception is that “the muscles grow during the workout”… no. Ur actually tearin up those puppies, so that’s what rest days r for! Both rest + protein contribute to ur muscle repair + growth (I’ll talk abt protein intake later). Naturally, I like to rest Sat n Sun, but it could be any 2-3 days of the week. Sometimes, I be usin that Fri full-body sesh as a rest day too so liiiike... if u need to, please do (especially during periods uuuuugh).

As for specific Workouts, I'll list em here. These r for the booty ;)

Hip thrusts, booty + hamstrings

Romanian dead lift, booty + hammies

Goblet Squat, quad destroyer

Hip abductions, booty burner, omfg

Leg press, depends on footing. Higher on platform works hammies n booty, lower works quads.

Weighted Squats, the whole damn leg.

Body weight squats OR lunges (good for warm-ups)

Leg curl, hammies

Leg extension, quads

Bulgarian split squat, booty n whole leg

I do 4 sets of 12 <3

(ALMOST FORGOT, I TARGET FOR 5-6 DIFF EXERCISE FOR EACH WORKOUT)

Nutrition plays a huuuge part as well, but I'll only talk very lil abt it since ion know yall's specific needs<3

Generally, if u want growth, just take ur current weight and put that in grams, for example = 170 lbs. -> 170 g of protein each day. Now, taking in the amount of protein u need can be hard at first, so just for the beginning, just try to at least get close to it then work ur way up. Foods high in protein that I like are Greek Yogurt, Chicken, Lean Ground Beef, Salmon, and snackies such as protein bars (avocado is like the holy grail for a phat booty just sayin. It's not protein, but it's the healthiest source of fat there is!). As for other groups (fat n carbs) don’t be so strict, bae… just use your portions. No need to restrict urself from ANY food bc no food is “bad”. I can talk allllll day abt this one but ima just shut up for now lmao.

PHEW, honestly, don't mention the gym around me cuz I will not shut up. Ima gym rat at heart so like I could literally keep writing abt this but bc literally, like, 3 ppl asked for this, Ima just wrap up here <3

Hope this was a lil bit of help @gltzpzy @mybvalentine @icenbroo <33333333

P.s. would it be cringe if I said I sometimes use Miguel as motivation??? Like he’s watchin me or som??? Bye, I hate that I do that, I’m like actually mentally unwell bc of that stupid mass of pixels Sony created ☠️

[desceros]

Y'kno. Leo could have taken that little secret to the grave. Woulda sucked to live with it and he'd have deserved some inner turmoil for treating some random chick like dirt. Yet V was naive, trusting and loving enough to let it go if he'd never had brought it up.

But no, he had to clear his guilt. Unburden himself. Dump that shit on her.

And fuck, he's so used to her giving he was probably half-expecting forgiveness for it.

Gotamn, V can't catch a break. One one hand you got a guy you thought you were BFFs with who

a) hated you

b) used you as an emotional crutch for his whole family

and

c) couldn't even shut up about it to spare you the extra heartbreak after literally EVERYTHING ELSE.

And another guy who you thought was as into you as you were into him because he apparently can't communicate about feelings since he's shut himself out from that part of life and you gotta use hyperspecific, robotic wording to not get your heart broken again like you're signing a contract with some fucked up version of the fae.

None of them are putting in the work to mend any of their personal shit and you're the giving type that gets easily taken advantage of, even unintentionally.

Honestly, neither of them are shitting rainbows to be worth all the effort you gotta put in their asses for any semblance of a functional friendship/situationship.

Also

"You weren't part of the family."

U kno what, he can keep it. They're the only people who'll be able to stand him at this rate.

so i addressed the first part of this in another ask re: ableism here but i'll briefly summarize things here.

leo didn't tell viola-chan what was bothering him because he wanted to "clear his guilt" or "unburden himself. dump that shit on her." he told her because she has made it repeatedly clear that she values honesty. i imagine he would have never told her... but keeping a secret felt like a betrayal. so when she asked, he told her. even though he knew it would hurt and change everything.

With a sigh, you fold your arms, then look at him. “What does this have to do with what you wanted to talk about, anyway?” “Everything,” Leo says, looking at you with a heavy stare. “Because… I have a confession to make. One that’s… that’s going to change how we are. One I really don’t want to make, but it’s—it’s eating me alive. And I don’t think I can continue being friends without telling you.”

that said. i'm not defending his actions. this is abominable behavior. but it's not selfish. not this time.

as for donnie. i'm going to take some righteous issue with how you're saying this. i've spoken before about ableism that's cropping up around this fic, but so far it's been pretty. hm. things i can brush off. but this, i feel, really crosses a line for me.

your framing of an autistic person needing someone to "use hyperspecific, robotic wording to not get your heart broken again like you're signing a contract with some fucked up version of the fae" is ringing quite poorly in my ears.

as an autistic person myself who has specifically made requests to my own loved ones that this is the exact kind of language i need to have smooth relationships, i don't appreciate your wording.

in symphony, donnie doesn't use the label 'autistic'. but he is. and he doesn't come up to you and say 'hey can i please have his kind of language used with me.' because he hasn't had to do that before. everyone around him has had his entire life to adapt to his needs. but viola-chan hasn't, hence why they have friction and misunderstandings. a large part of this story is the two of them learning to communicate. and part of that, i am sorry to tell you, is that autistic people often need language that can come across as "robotic" and "hyperspecific". so i'm going to ask you to deal with it, or perhaps look for a different fic. i'm not going to change that interpretation of things, because it comes from my own experiences as an autistic person.

lastly, you say "none of them are putting in the work to mend any of their personal shit" and that just?? isn't true??? this is literally just poor reading comprehension. an inability to look past the limited point of view of the protagonist. the entire first arc of this fic (ch. 1-11) is donnie stretching out of his comfort zone to tackle this serious problem he has. the second arc (12-20) is him pushing past things he's never done before so he can heal and touch his brothers again. leo comes to you and tells you about his issues with his sleep, where they come from, and lets you help him. not to mention mikey and raph, whom i assume you're leaving out of this ask since you haven't mentioned them. draxum even mentions, specifically, that viola-chan's presence is making them change. and the way he says it is very specific.

“Blue has been much more lively since you came around, and Donatello is much less crabby. Michael was also telling me you gave him some good exercises for his wrist. I was impressed. I’ve been meaning to ask you to work with Red as well on his trauma response since you seem to have a knack for it.”

work with. not on. i know i'm subtle, but come on.

anyway. this got quite long, but i'm not going to put it under a cut because i want these things to be open and visible. i've had a couple people say some somewhat similar things about donnie's part in this and i'm. getting kind of tired of it lmao. but thank you for reading, and i do appreciate you taking the time to send in your thoughts!!

[mylovescara]

Would they like to be pegged?

No smut but is a suggestive topic so mdni for obvious reasons

Featuring all the obey me brothers🫶🏽

Datebles ver

————————————————————

Lucifer

He loves it

But would never admit it

You have to be the one to bring it up first

And straight away he says no

“W-what?!? n-no darling sorry it just doesn’t pique my interest” (he says while blushing and looking in the other direction and acc stuttering his sentence for the first time in centuries)

He eventually gives in tho and loved it

Ever since then he’s been subtly hinting to you that he want you to peg him again

and when u realise he says he only want to do it again

cause he saw how much you enjoyed it last time

Mammon

Yes he loves pegging plus he is to submissive not to peg

He would deny it if any of his brothers picked up the topic to him (asmo)

But once you start talking to him about it goes all Tsundere mode and denies

while at the same time telling u he wouldn’t mind if u did peg him

“well you could always try that out on me…I-I mean you silly human I was only saying it so I wouldn’t have to hear you whine about how you wanna be more dominant”

“it’s not like I would actually go on my knees for a mere human” *insert blushing face here* “pfft yea I-I would never”

Later that night he was and his hands and knees for a mere human

Leviathan

Yes it’s not rlly surprising either

He probably so it in some nsfw manga and has been obsessed ever since (and can’t watch porn without a dominant women)

He would accidentally admit it to you while talking about some manga he’s read

“Y-yeah that one was so cool!! And then this other one that I read this week and the women was pegging him it’s was so cool!! She reminded me of some type of cool-“

He cuts himself off realising what he’s just told you and avoids you tho whole day

Until u lure him out with ruri-Chan and get him underneath u begging for release

Satan

ehh he’s ok with it

He doesn’t not like it and he doesn’t hate it(although he would much rather be the one giving you pleasure)

He’s read about it in a few books so he gets the gist of it

“You want to peg me? Well if it’s what you want I wouldn’t mind trying it”

Sighhh he’s such a gentlemen 🥹

Asmodeus

Obviously 100% loves it

He’s such a pillow princess it’s insane

He’s the one to bring it up first and talk about how hot you would look doing it

“Hey darling♡ why don’t you come with me to the bed room I have a few suggestions on what we could do in our free time~”

And he also looks so beautiful while your doing it that now any time both of you are in the mood you pull out the strap

But don’t worry he rewards you for how good you’re to him by showing you how many tricks he can do with his tongue (🤭)

Beelzebub

He loves it

Idk why people think he wouldn’t

I mean he loves the feeling of being stuffed so why wouldn’t he like being stuffed somewhere else?

Beel is always straight forward and blunt so I would say he brings it up first

but the catch is he didn’t know what it ment he just heard asmo mention it to him

“Hey mc I heard asmo talking about pegging and how good it is and I thought maybe we could go out and get some?”(he thought pegging was a food bless his soul😭❤️)

You explain to him what pegging ment and he says he would be alright with you doing that to him and now evert once in a while he ask you to be the dominant one

And plus I kno damn well Beel has a nice ass that jiggle and wiggles when he runs

And he goes gym as well he probably built his gluts cause asmo told him it would be good for him

(he just wanted to see if Beel would acc try grow his ass just cause he told him to😭)

Belphegor

He likes pegging

You cannot change my mind

He like it mostly cause he can just lay there and let you do all the work

And because he likes to be a brat and rile you up and purpose so you can punish him

Let’s say for the sake of this hc you and asmo went to the toy shop and u brought a strap(asmo recommended it)

As soon as he found out he would start teasing you and when you would tell him to stop being a brat he would just reply:

“What? Are you gonna punish me for it? Gonna fuck the brat out of me?”

And yes yes you did fuck the brat out of him earlier that day

And yes asmo did walk pass you and whisper a “ur welcome” in your ear

———————————————————————————

Bro I was in the middle of writing this and my tumblr glitched and deleted it so I had to rewrite it omds and also don’t mind all the spelling errors my dyelexia is bad

Anyways I’ve been really busy with life so that why I keep posting irregularly but it’s ok I’m not busy anymore so I’ll be able to post some more😍

♡

[caihongs]

been reading a lot of landoscar these days and i tested the loscar waters as well… and somehow this led to 1.6k words of alex/logan. not sure if i can get myself to write the rest but i thought it was good enough to post on here :’))

They’re in the car and Lando is still riding his podium high, the glow on his cheeks not just from the champagne but the adrenaline and pride running through him like currents of electricity. He turns to Alex after taking an inordinate number of selfies, hat tipped up so that he can look at him in the eye.

“Man, I can’t wait to see Oscar tonight,” he says, languishing in whatever the hell tonight means with a serene smile.

“Whatever do you mean?” Alex asks, voice high and quiet as they trundle out from from the circuit, driving slow so they can still wave to fans.

“Well… I’m sure we’re going to have fun tonight. That’s all.” He says it, staring at Alex like he’s supposed to just get it. Lifting his bushy eyebrows and making big, suggestive eyes at Alex.

“Okay mate,” Alex replies curtly, almost upset that he doesn’t know what Lando is insinuating, preferring to stare out the window than entertain him. Lando leans in closer and Alex is privy to the sight of his pores and scruffy facial hair.

“Haven’t you… you know. With Logan.” Alex’s eyes naturally grow three times in size. The chatter up the front between Jon and Patrick has blurred into white noise.

“Haven’t I what with Logan?” he whisper-shouts and a large wrinkle forms in between Lando’s eyebrows as he surveys Alex’s expression.

“Oh… I just thought—hmm, never mind.” It’s the nonchalance that Lando has, unintentional or not, that contributes to the rising anxiety that climbs up Alex’s throat. It probably is intentional, knowing Lando and his uncanny ability to make you feel uncomfortable in a split second. Alex has known him since they were kids and has been the victim to this many times before.

But this time it’s different.

What are Lando and Oscar engaging in that is so secret? Is it enriching his young teammate’s life? Providing him with the foundations to grow and develop as a young driver in his first year in F1? Has Alex failed Logan?

To: Lando

what are u playing at

Alex types in furiously before shooting a pointed glare at Lando. The text notification pings noisily and Lando checks his phone before staring back at Alex, an ambiguous expression drawing on his face.

Lando

r u sure u don’t kno what i’m talking abt

cmon alex you’ve had teammates b4

Alex doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean. There was Daniil, Max, Nicky, before Logan. All three of them shared virtually nothing in common—apart from a girlfriend, the same seat… semantics.

Alex

come out w it already

Lando gives him another unnerving look before he gestures with his hand to come closer. Alex warily leans in and Lando cups his hand around his ear.

“Didn’t Max you know… give you a blowy or something after your first podium?”

Alex blanches.

“No?! Wh—why would he?” Alex whispers back and Lando retreats, frowning at him.

“It’s a tradition Alex. Like… a vintage F1 thing I dunno. That’s what Carlos told me,” he says defensively and it’s Alex’s turn to frown at him.

Max had DNF’ed Tuscany. Asking for a blowjob from Max Verstappen after retiring a race would have been a death wish.

“So what, you just exchange… favours with your teammate after they podium?” There is so much to unpack here.

Daniil, Max, and Nicholas had all been seeing people when Alex was working with them. And even if they were and still wanted to seek out this… tradition, he was not nearly close enough with them to be comfortable giving them any sort of pleasure or engage in homewrecking behaviour. Daniil had a girlfriend at the time, who despite everything, ended up with Max in the time that Alex had been both of their teammates. Even if they did want something, he knows he wouldn’t have been their first choice. It would have been Pierre or Daniel or virtually anyone but him.

And well… Nicky was Nicky. Thinking back, he liked Nicholas enough to maybe give him a handy after Japan, but he retired that race and wanted to rot in his room with Lily rather than get anywhere near his teammate’s dick.

Plus, Lando has enough podiums to warrant that kind of thing. Alex drags the FW45 into points and he would never want Logan to serve him like some kind of dog. He’s already struggling with the car and the pressure as is. Propositioning his twenty-two-year-old teammate also feels illegal.

And after all that, Logan would probably want to make out with Oscar more than Alex.

“Yeah well it’s not like a rule but y’know. They call it team bonding,” Lando says with a slimy grin that Alex wants to peel off his face like a visor tear-off.

“You’re an idiot.”

Jon’s ears perk up at the sound of Alex berating Lando.

“What did I miss?”

“Nothing!” Lando squeaks out like a school boy just caught flipping through a dirty magazine and Alex properly claps him over his bucket hat.

Once they get off and go back to their hotels, Lando just holds onto Alex’s wrist and sends him a message with those hazel eyes that get Lando just about anything in life. The message doesn’t get through because Alex does not want to ask or do anything about this topic or revisit it any time soon. He pats Lando on the back before scuttling off to the elevator.

After a shower, Alex is left to his own devices. Against his own will, he’s reminded of Lando and Oscar somewhere in this hotel and then vivid images of them—

He rubs his eyes and presses his forehead against the glass of the desk in his room.

Logan is not a bad looker. He’s attractive, in fact. Blonde hair, blue eyes, tall, and with a weirdly sonorous voice. He’s blatantly American, what with his selection of favourite movies and idiosyncratic language, which Alex has taken time getting used to since they first met. But it’s not a complete turn-off. They get along well both in and out of the car—Logan, green and zealous despite his normal, relaxed disposition and Alex more than willing to teach him the ropes. He also laughs at whatever Alex says but isn’t afraid to call him out when he’s talking rubbish. Alex’s loose lips usually get him in trouble but what Logan says when the cameras aren’t around makes him wonder what else he does when Alex isn’t around either.

Lily’s never been into white guys but she agrees when he calls her, unable to stew in his own thoughts any longer, that Logan is in fact, not bad.

‘Not bad’ is her way of making Alex feel better when the person at hand is not exactly her type—tanned, big eyes, funny… Alex could go on but Lily’s taste veers off into unknown territory past those three traits. She’d found Lando’s ex cute and Yuki sweet, so he’s not sure where the Venn Diagram would be drawn between those two.

“If you want babe… you could just ask him.”

“Hmm?” is Alex’s intelligent response. They’re sunbaking on a boat in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea and Alex is both sun-fatigued and exhausted after Lily had wrangled him below the deck before lunch. This is what twenty-seven does to you.

“If he’s interested.”

“In what?”

“Were you even listening to me?”

Alex looks down at her and immediately locks eyes with her shiny lips, then the sunscreen streak on her cheek that she missed. Lily pokes him in the cheek with a roll of her eyes.

“I meant Logan. I dunno, maybe the next GP will bring you guys something good… then you can broach the—” she gestures vaguely at his crotch and Alex groans. The downforce required at Zandvoort is nigh impossible for their car but he still wants—

He wants to ask. Which is terrifying.

Logan’s been having a hell of a summer break as well. He’s not missed the Instagram posts of him and his mates, who more or less kind of look like him, hanging out by the pools and doing whatever it is young people do but Alex digresses. Maybe he’ll be well-rested and ready to tackle the second half of the season. Maybe he won’t be entirely creeped out by Alex wanting to touch his dick.

Whether he gets his dick wet or he’s the one with his hands down Logan’s pants… that’s something they can iron out.

Lily just laughs at his look of confusion and disbelief morphing into latent realisation. She knows him better than he knows himself sometimes and it’s strange to think that she’s okay with this. If she ever wanted to do something with someone else, Alex doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle it as gracefully as she did. As she does. He’d always want her to be happy and fulfilled, and knows that she’d always come back to him, but putting that into words is difficult for him without coming off insecure or doubtful. He doesn’t know if he could truly be uncertain of her when she’s been by him, through sickness and health and near-death, bar the shiny rock. They’re not quite wanting that yet.

So if he sucks off Logan Sergeant come next GP, he’ll do her proud.

“You’re thinking too much right now Alex Albon.” He furrows his eyebrows at her and swipes away at her sunscreen.

“Sue me for thinking very hard about this.”

“Oh I’m sure you are.”

She cackles when he turns around and scoops her up. Alex is twenty-seven but he still has a little fight in him.

[aparticularbandit]

For Fake: Chapter Four

Summary: America lied about having a girlfriend to get her moms off her back, but when they want to meet said girlfriend, she asks her good friend Viv to step in and help.

Viv Vision/America Chavez

Chapter Rating: G. Fic Rating: T.

AO3

previous chapter | next chapter

notanandroid: I cannot meet on the 26th.  Father has the date marked for something. punchesstars: for wut notanandroid: I do not know.  He will not tell me. notanandroid: Every time I ask, he says that it is a surprise. punchesstars: oh punchesstars: cool

punchesstars: the 22 ok? punchesstars: mom’s birthday’s the 21 so not then punchesstars: she’ll be SO distracted notanandroid: Yes.  We do not have any plans. punchesstars: cool punchesstars: cu then

notanandroid: You are certain that you want me to be myself? notanandroid: You are certain that will not make things too complicated? punchesstars: ur fine punchesstars: i like u punchesstars: & ur a shit liar notanandroid: I can reasonably deceive your parents.  Father has told me that Wanda is extremely gullible. punchesstars: i dont wanna kno notanandroid: They were in a relationship before my father created me. punchesstars: ew punchesstars: i said i dont wanna kno punchesstars: y’d u say that punchesstars: ew ew ew ew ew punchesstars: i need brain bleach viv notanandroid: I do not think they make that. notanandroid: I do not think this needs to be said, but please do not drink bleach.

~

Viv hovers down to America’s house with a feeling of woeful unpreparedness.  Perhaps if asked, they don’t need to talk about how they met; her moms should already know that one.  They can refer back to the diner for their “first date” as well.  But she hopes neither of them asks how America asked her out – or how she asked America out – because this is something they have never discussed.  She hopes they don’t ask how they each knew the other liked them.  Even more, she hopes neither asks how she knew she liked America.

She still hasn’t decided how to answer that question.

As her feet just touch down on their front porch, Viv reaches out to ring their doorbell and then hesitates.  Woefully unprepared shouldn’t leave her feeling as anxious and nervous as she feels.  It shouldn’t.  And yet her stomach still acts as though there are exposed livewires tumbling about inside it, as though they keep brushing against the rest of her insides.

It’s not as painful as it sounds.

Still.

Viv tugs on the flowing lace edges of her long shirt as if they were on a skirt.  They might as well be, since she’s just in that long shirt and leggings.  It isn’t quite a dress, per say, or at least clothes like it aren’t marketed as dresses, but she’s gotten one that’s big enough to be worn that way regardless, all soft and knitted and in her signature Crayola green.  She likes this sweater.  It has golden threads woven through it here and there that sparkle when they catch the light.  She tucks her hair behind one ear, tugs on her sleeves until her thumbs fit through each of the holes designed for them, reconsiders how she looks – reconsiders looking like herself, like a synthezoid and not a human – and very nearly shifts her appearance, although America insisted otherwise, before the front door opens.

She didn’t ring the doorbell.

It doesn’t matter – the door’s open, and Agatha stands there on the other side of it, fingers tapping on the door, nails gleaming a deep violet in the porch light.  Strictly speaking, they’ve never met, but Viv recognizes her easily enough from the way too many files she’d scanned through in preparation for this meeting.  (She tells herself it was simply research for a mission, but the truth is it’s the same sort of research she might have done if America was actually her girlfriend and she actually wanted to do well with her parents.)

From the way Agatha’s head tilts to one side, it’s clear that she recognizes Viv, too.  She doesn’t say anything at first, but then her eyes light up and a wicked, wicked grin spreads across her lips.  “Oh, so it’s you.”

“I am uncertain of what you mean.”

“You’re the girlfriend, aren’t you?”  Agatha’s grin widens so much that her tongue starts to peek between her teeth.  Then she turns and shouts into the house.  “Wanda, babe, you owe me thirty bucks!”

The call comes from inside the house: “What?”

“I guessed right!” Agatha calls back.  “You owe me, hon!”

Viv’s face is already scarlet.  That is a feature of being a synthezoid.  It is a fortunate feature, because that means when her cheeks heat with her embarrassment, it is impossible to note the difference.  “I did not even ring the doorbell,” she mutters under her breath.

“Oh, right, that.”  Agatha turns back.  “We have one of those spy cams.  Lets us know someone’s at the door before they even do anything.”  She steps out of the house and taps at the camera set in the doorbell.  “Smile!  You’re on candid camera!”

I hate this, Viv thinks, and then, I really hate this, she thinks again, and then, It’s good that this is all feigned because I would hate this more if I had to live through it more often.  Still, she can see some of America’s snark mimicked in Agatha’s words, and as much as she hates it, that calms her.  They’re not the same – they aren’t even biologically related, and America’s brainwaves aren’t a combination of Wanda’s and Agatha’s the way that Viv’s are of her father’s and her mother’s – but they still resemble each other.  It’s beautiful.

Then there comes a pounding on the stairs so loud that Viv can hear it outside, and exactly thirty-point-five-six-five seconds later, America appears halfway down the stairs.  “Viv?”  She grabs the railing about a quarter of the way from the floor and jumps over the side before skidding on stockinged feet to the front door.  Then she pushes Agatha out of the way.  “She’s my girlfriend.  You can’t have her.”

Viv blinks twice.

“America, how many times have I told you not to jump the railing?”  Wanda’s voice cuts through everything, blatant before she’s even visible, and then she’s there, walking out of the kitchen in an outfit that looks like a softer, more grown-up version of Viv’s own: cream sweater dress compared with Viv’s matrix green over large sweater, both with longer than normal sleeves but Wanda’s with extra folds about her collar as well; caramel leggings compared with Viv’s onyx ones, a deeper color that exudes warmth as opposed to Viv’s flat black, which seems to absorb it; and then the glow ups: dark chocolate boots much classier than Viv’s half-tied red Converse and a deep brown belt with a golden buckle cinched about her waist, highlighting it, accenting it, where Viv wears no belt at all.

It’s more than a bit of a mimicry, even if unintended, and a part of Viv glances to Agatha and America to see if they will parallel each other the same way that she does with Wanda.  But while both seem a little more dressed down, that’s the only thing they have in common.  America has her standard denim jacket, of course (surprising, since Wanda has always given off a don’t wear jackets inside the house sort of vibe), but her jeans and t-shirt look like anything she could wear any day, nothing special at all.  Agatha, meanwhile, seems to have decided to fit the sweater theme – only hers is actually a well fitted deep purple sweater pulled over a collared shirt of a sharper shade of purple (only visible from its collar poking out and resting atop the sweater’s).  Black slacks aren’t a grown-up version of jeans, no matter what anyone says, and even if Agatha wanted to look more adult, that effect is destroyed by the way her sleeves are pushed up to her elbows.  Even though they both have their hair pulled back, America’s is a much higher ponytail with strands pulled out and hanging about her ears, while Agatha’s is a much messier up-do.

Wanda storms – the heels of her boots clacking on the floor – over to Agatha and glares at her.  “This is your fault.  You taught her how to—”

“You like jumping the railing, too, hon,” Agatha replies with a wave of her hand.  “Don’t discriminate.”  Then she gestures to Viv with one hand.  “Told you.  Pay up.”

“Told me wha—”  Wanda’s eyes light on Viv, and her expression softens.  At least, it does at first.  Then her eyes widen as she realizes who’s standing there.  Her head slowly lilts backward.  “You’re—”

“My girlfriend,” America interjects.  She bites her lower lip and crosses her arms.  “Got a problem with that?”

For a moment longer, Viv stays on the porch.  She sees Wanda’s expression shift between a thousand and one minute differences, each saying and explaining an entirely different aspect of her reaction, before settling, finally, on a mixture of concern and wary acceptance.  She lies, then, when she says, “No, of course not,” because everything about that rapidly shifting and schooling says that this expression, the one she wears, is nothing more than a mask.

Viv knows because her own mother often tried to do the same thing and failed, because her mother trained herself to wear that mask at every possible moment, only letting it fall when—

Well.  Her mother’s brainwaves were a mimicry of Wanda’s, after all.  So of course she should—

“Why don’t you come in from the cold, hon,” Agatha says, gesturing Viv in with one hand.  “It’s freezing out there.”

On second glance, Agatha’s blue eyes shine brighter than Wanda’s, although whether they sparkle with mischief or congeniality, Viv cannot tell.  So instead, she looks to America, who offers her a gentle, if embarrassed grin, and who takes her hand and tugs her inside.  She assumes the embarrassment is of her parents, but in all honesty?  She cannot tell.

~

Dinner goes as smoothly as could be hoped for, although that seems to be on account of it being mostly silent.  Well, mostly silent for three of the four of them – it only took a single compliment from Viv, followed by a long, low groan from America, before Agatha launched into an intricate explanation of the dish in question, who she learned it from, how many years it took for her to perfect it, and then, without prompting, explaining the exact same thing for each of the other dishes.  Despite her audible groan, America gives Viv a thumbs up beneath the table – without knowing, she’d walked into perhaps the best way to make sure the dinner conversation was on something other than them – and while Viv found most of Agatha’s stories engaging, she glanced over to Wanda from time to time and found her somewhere between entertained and annoyed, depending on the story.

And once, exactly once, Viv glanced over to Wanda and found her looking straight at her.  Wanda didn’t flush at being caught out, although Viv did, and instead holds Viv’s gaze just long enough to give her a gentle smile.  In the end, Viv looked away before Wanda did, and the next time she checked, Wanda had returned to eating, as though nothing happened at all.

After dinner, Agatha suggests they move into the living room, but Wanda touches Viv’s arm gently and gestures for her to follow her.  Viv follows, despite her suspicions, only to stand with Wanda, alone, in the kitchen.  It still smells strongly of the food Agatha prepared for them, only in here, where she can smell everything at once, it hits her like that first breath of air after being held underwater – a deep, deep, desperate breath followed by guttural gasping from too much.

“You’re dating America,” Wanda asks, but she doesn’t say it like a question.

Viv looks down at her hands and clasps them together.  “Yes.”

“You’re dating America,” Wanda repeats.

“Yes.”  Viv continues to look down at her hands.

“You’re dating America—”

“It does not matter how many times you say it or which words you italicize, it does not make the statement any less true.”  Viv fiddles one thumb up and over the other.

For a moment, Wanda stays silent.  Then, “Italicize?” she echoes, her voice soft.

Viv shrugs.  “It seemed pertinent.”  She glances up and meets Wanda’s eyes.  When she looks human, her own are the same shade, that same emerald green, although Wanda’s feel darker than her own, which always spark with electric light.  Rough hewn emeralds against the matrix approximation thereof.  Maybe, if her mother had been human, her eyes would have looked much the same.  Maybe this, too, is something they inherited from their originator.  “You have a problem with this.”

“I’m just surprised.”  Wanda crosses her arms.  Her gaze lifts and focuses on the bright yellow gem situated in the very center of Viv’s forehead.

In another life, this gem, situated in her father’s forehead, was the Mind Stone, but in his recreation and subsequent creation of herself and the rest of their family, it’s nothing more than a memory of what he once was and a reminder of whose she is.  The Solar Gem doesn’t need to be in the center of her forehead.  It doesn’t need to be this flashy or this bright, and it doesn’t need to be one of the ways that she externally connects with some of her internal systems.  And yet her father has created her the same way he was created, with so many threads tied down to this singular gem.

Wanda stares at the gem and pain flickers through her eyes and she asks, gentle as she can, “When did you turn your emotional processors back on?”

“Father told you,” Viv says, but where once anger might have bubbled up inside her, she stays calm.  “He was not meant to tell anyone.  That was meant only for family.”

I am family.

Wanda doesn’t say it, but she doesn’t have to do so.  Her expression says it all for her.  “Viv,” she starts again, “when did you—”

“I did not.”  Viv averts her eyes.  “I have not.”

There’s a beat of silence after the admission.  Viv continues to avert her eyes, refusing to see the disappointment (or, worse, concern) in Wanda’s, still breathing in that tangled, overwhelming scent of too much food at once.  She glances up just enough to barely make out Wanda’s expression when Wanda says, “Then do you really think it’s a good idea to be dating—”

“Viv?”  America pops her head into the kitchen.  “Why’re you hiding in here?”  She catches sight of her mom, and her eyes narrow the slightest bit.  “Something the matter?”

“No,” Viv lies.  She meets Wanda’s eyes.  “Nothing is wrong.”  She waits a breath to see if Wanda will refute her, and when Wanda says nothing to either of them, she takes America’s hand in her own and follows her out of the kitchen.

America leans over as they walk the admittedly short hallway to the living room and hisses, “What was that about?”

“Nothing.”

Viv does not feel as though she has gotten any better at lying, although she has practiced, and her clear lack of skill is reflected towards her on America’s face when her friend who is a girl turns to her and gives her a blank stare.  The kind that says she will bring this up again later, when they’re alone, when she doesn’t think anyone will overhear them; the kind that says she will insist on it, even if Viv doesn’t want to talk about it at all.

That feeling of electric coils in the pit of her stomach returns, and Viv thinks that maybe, when America asked if she’d be her fake girlfriend, she should have said no.

~

At some point in the living room, Viv realizes that Wanda and Agatha had their own plans in motion, plans that were far more thought out and prepared than Viv and America’s had been.  Those plans, of course, were entirely reliant on letting Agatha talk while Wanda quietly took everything in – less what Agatha was saying and more Viv’s reactions, or how Viv and America might react together – and a part of Viv suspects that those plans were set into place the moment Agatha said she’d won their bet.  There might never have even been a bet – only plans within plans within plans and which one they might follow.

And by the end of everything, Viv feels as though they have failed.

“I believe I should be going,” Viv says finally, as the clock clicks closer to her curfew.  She turns to America, takes her friend’s hand in her own, and gives it a gentle squeeze.  “My father would not like it if I lingered too long.”

At her words, Agatha’s eyes light up.  “He doesn’t know where you are, does he, hon?  He’d let you stay later if he knew you were with your girlfriend—”

“Agatha!” America cuts her off, but Agatha just gives them both a huge wink.

Wanda, however, stands with a gentle, if feigned, smile on her face.  “Viv’s right.  I think we should—”  She stops herself with a yawn, which she covers with one hand.  Her smile droops afterward, but that sleepiness doesn’t quite reach her eyes.  “I’m sorry. It’s nearly past my bedtime.”

America shoots her a look.  “You don’t have a bedtime.”

Agatha winks again.

“Ew.”  America winces and stands, tugging Viv up with her.  “I don’t wanna hear any of that.  Ew ew ew ew ew.”  She starts to the door without another word – which was probably Wanda and Agatha’s intent, although Viv can’t know for sure.

Once they’re outside, America shuts the door behind them and gives Viv another look.  “No, seriously, what was Wanda doing with you earlier?” she asks without any sort of transition at all.  She crosses her arms.  “And don’t…don’t lie to me, okay?  Don’t say it was nothing when it definitely wasn’t nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing.”  Viv doesn’t meet her eyes.  Instead, she crosses her arms with a shiver she doesn’t need – she cannot feel the cold right now – and stares out at the snow-covered lawn in front of them, at the twinkling holiday lights threaded through the white picket fence.

“So what was it?” America asks, nudging her.

Viv shakes her head.  “It is unimportant.”  She turns to America with a small smile.  “Most importantly, it does not concern you.  It is only something about myself which your mother should not have known in the first place.  That is all.”

“Your dad?” America guesses, and when Viv nods, she scowls and kicks her foot at the ground.  “That sucks.”

“Perhaps.”  Viv gives a half-hearted shrug.  She waits to see if America will say anything else about that, but she doesn’t, and Viv doesn’t invite her to continue it.  In fact, she’d rather she didn’t know at all.  It isn’t any of her business.  Even if they were girlfriends – which they aren’t, and which she does not want – she wouldn’t want to tell her.

Life is just…easier this way.  Thinking about hard things, like her mother, and not feeling everything about them.  It’s simply easier not to feel.  And it’s not she doesn’t feel anything; it’s just…softer, somehow.  She needs softer.

And maybe it would have ended there, if Agatha hadn’t propped open one of the windows and stuck her head out.  “Kiss her!” she yells out.  “You’re standing under mistletoe!”

“No, we’re not.”  America doesn’t even look up.  “I ripped that thing down because you and Mom were smooching too much.”  She gives Viv a look and mouths ew again before sticking her tongue out with disgust.

“Oh.”  Agatha stares down at them.  “I didn’t realize.”  Her tone sounds too much like Viv’s mother.  It’s terrifying.  Then her head tilts to the side, and she waggles her fingers.  “Fixed it for you, hon.  Don’t thank me!”  She returns back inside the house as the mistletoe appears in a puff of violet magic.

America stares at the mistletoe with wide eyes.  “Uh, no.”  She shakes her head and stands back, palms out.  “You don’t have to.  Nope.”

“They’re paying attention.”  Viv doesn’t need to see America’s moms to know that what she just said is true.  “It’s a test.”  She looks down at her hand, rubs her thumbnail against the bad of her forefinger.  “I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t mind.”

“That’s not the point!”

Viv glances up to see the bright flush coloring America’s face, the same embarrassed expression as before only magnified etched into her features, and gives another shrug.  “Then don’t.  And have Agatha berate you for not doing anything, despite the opportunity being right there, while Wanda doubts whether we’re actually a couple at all—”

America kisses her.

….

Viv is fairly certain that America only kisses her to get her to stop talking.  She won’t admit it to herself, but that was, in fact, her point.  To make America so flustered that she’d act.  It doesn’t mean anything, after all, and it doesn’t need to be anything.

But it’s nice, she thinks.  It’s nice, to be kissed.

America stops with her cheeks an even darker red than they were before.  “There,” she mutters.  “Fine.  They got what they needed.”  She doesn’t look up and actively avoids Viv’s gaze.  “I’m gonna…I’m gonna go.  So you can make your curfew.  Or whatever.”

In the most girlfriend-like manner she’s had the entire time, Viv leans over and kisses America’s cheek.  “I will text you.  Later.”

“Yeah.  Sure.  Whatever.”

But even though America turns away from her, even though her hands clench together into tiny fists, she doesn’t go inside until Viv has hovered enough out of reach that she cannot see her anymore, until Viv has flown far enough away that she doesn’t hear the door slam.

[cheemken]

u have any rom hacks recs? u seem to kno a lot haha

Ghmh yeah but like do note it's been a while since I last really played a rom hack, I'm not that updated w a lot of stuff anymore hahah

Anyways

For GBA

•Unbound (honestly the best imo really set the bar too damn high fr)

•Crown (this ones good if you're in to more typical rpg stuff like Fire Emblem or smth akin to Conquest, tho it's still in beta and you can only get the first "gym badge" it is a cool rom hack tho)

•Dark Worship (it's not fully translated in English but hey if you are or know Portuguese then you might like this one, it's dope ngl but also it's full of bugs so,, yeah hahah)

•Quetzal (haven't played this one, couldn't find a link to the latest version, but from what I heard it's cool since mons can follow you around)

•Emerald DX (basically just Emerald but w DS sprites and following pkmn, also w p/s split, I forgot if they added the Fairy type but I think they did, I'm adding this one bc I love Emerald and this one's a pretty solid rom hack hahah)

•Glazed (man I'm surprised this is still around ngl, but hey it's a classic, its solid, I don't remember getting that far in this rom hack ngl, but iirc I got to Johto, but didn't get to finish the game)

•Sors (this ones also dope, one thing I don't like abt it tho is that you can't change the MC's name or gender or customize him, and Lucario as an ace, I mean Lucario lovers would probs like this game but I just prefer Riolu)

•Saiph and Saiph 2 (haven't played these, but I think it's cool, Saiph 2 I did try tho and God fuckin love the sprites and the design of it, too bad it's unfinished but hey hahah)

•Sword and Shield GBA (if you want SwSh but w DS sprites, yeah. It's in Spanish tho, but there is an English translation if you want hahah)

For DS

•Blaze Black and Volt White (basically BW, but a bit better hahah)

•Blaze Black and Volt White 2 Redux (honestly the most definitive version of BW2 for me ngl, this is canon for me now hahaha no but fr it's pretty dope, a lot of changes and hey if you don't like the changes they still have one w/out em so it's a win win hahah)

•PMD: Explorers of Skies (pmd sky, but a bit harder, but also w more starters so hey hahah)

•PMD: Expanded Sky (this ones posted here on Tumblr, you can check here if you want, but yeah it's PMD but w starters from gen one to nine and a few more added so it's really cool!)

•PMD: Gates To Infinity Demake (GTI but in the DS, it's what we should've gotten, but hey this demake is still dope tho! But ah,, yeah still not finished but hey hahah)

•PMD: Future of Hope (I haven't finished this one but I really want to bc it's honestly dope af and it's kinda like a sequel to explorers)

•Conquest Ultimate (haven't tried this one too but low-key want to, says that it has mons to gen nine, and you can choose your own eeveelution at the start of the game rather than just sticking w Eevee)

[equalseleventhirds]

I really like and agree with your post on GO s2. I haven't finished it and don't really have any interest in finishing, bc it does feel so different from the story that I've been a fan of since I've read it when I was like, 11. I think it falls into a lot of the traps that other entertainment products have fallen into when they focus in on a sidecharacter (even if those characters have a lot of prominence in the narrative) in that the reason fans gravitate to those characters is bc of their relationship to the rest of the world. You've outlined it very well in your post that humans (not just 'humanity' as a concept, but actual fleshy people doing things) are so central to GO the book. And they are also the background to a lot of the story, it's the world that gives dimension to the characters and the world of book GO is so populated with little human anecdotes that are not plot relevant but are important for the texture, the feel of the story. I think you can really see that Neil Gaiman has no experience with being a showrunner, and without the anchor of the book he falls into a lot of pitfalls re pacing, scope, worldbuilding, that make the central characters fall flat. You can be a good writer but writing for the screen is a specific skillset and running a show even more so, and I think the lack of technical skills in those areas really shines through here and makes the product as a whole not work.

hey anon, thanks for this! I had to wake up properly to read it so it took me a minute but here I am.

i think you're right about those elements of the book missing and how the focus on popular characters to the detriment of the larger world defs does fall flat, yeah.

idk enough about gaiman's tv career to really speak to whether it's an experience problem or not; to be fair, this is very much the sort of story that studios eat up, and, clearly, that audiences LOVE, and providing that is definitely a skill. it's simplified, it's dramatic and satisfying (for nonfans of the book), it's a very consumable and marketable narrative. to be fair.

(this is not to say that it's GOOD that this happens. I think fandom can elevate a work, but there's a trend in the industry towards the easiest marketable work, and that tends to cater towards the most boring aspects of fandom. like I get it but. grumblegrumblegrumble both sides BE BETTER.)

it's that comparison to the book, which for all its flaws (1990, etc) had a very different purpose and message, that kind of makes it go meh. and I'm not sure that's a problem of inexperience; I think it may be a problem of time passing, and gaiman as writer having a different sort of story he wants to tell about it (tv!gomens s1 was a love letter to sir terry pratchett, and I suspect was more about celebrating that friendship than staying true to the book's intentions; my personal feelings abt that choice, or gaiman's obliviousness to the messages so many ppl took from the book, are....... hm.)

......also as a longtime discworld fan, I have my suspicions that the things I miss most were heavily influenced by pratchett writing them. I've read books by both authors, and I think the bits about human people living their human lives being enough to change the universe show up more in pratchett's work. a bit. like I can't say for sure but I Suspect. u kno.

[weizhiyuan]

Thai BL Favorites List Tag Game

thank youuu mel @justafriend-ql for tagging me!!! And to @thatgirl4815 for creating it!

I’m so bad at picking favorites so please excuse the fact that I have like two answers per question.. since this is a Thai bl list I’m not listing gls or non Thai series or else I’d probably list like 3+ per question fnskfjfj

Favorite bl: bad buddy or not me (PLEASE DONT MAKE ME CHOOSE). They’re both very different but very important in their own ways. The bad buddy experience is incomparable and the beauty of not me and its basis in reality is historical

Favorite pairing: following suit, patpran & seanwhite. Both series weren’t just plot driven, they were character driven as well (possibly more so). Each are fantastic, though wildly different, romances.

Most underrated actor: my boy chimon! I think generally people know he can act but I wouldn’t be surprised if he gained more recognition after dangerous romance aired. (Also bonus, stealing Mel’s answer cuz sing always needs more attention he can do any and everything!! I’ll eat up any role he plays. I always do)

Favorite character: really hard to choose. maybe Sean (from not me again). I’m ngl I blocked someone once bc they talked a bit of shit abt him. He’s never done anything wrong in his life <3

Favorite side character: yok from not me. I’m gonna keep putting not me here srry but NO ONE will ever be as slutty as yok was. Not even First in only friends. He encapsulated Slut energy in such an immaculate way. (OR heartliming. They stole the show in moonlight chicken for me!)

Favorite scene: the pride flag scene from not me. It’s one of the most impactful scenes I’ve seen in any ql and I love the reason why it exists in the first place!

Favorite line: the build up to patpran’s rooftop kiss. Got me holding my breath screaming crying heart racing you know it. We’ve all been through it. I have it copied into my notes in case I ever need it (or just to. Cry idk)

Most anticipated bl and why: hmmm probably cooking crush literally just cuz of offgun in a romcom bl lmao I luv them. The pics they’ve uploaded lately have had a different vibe from the mock trailer and I’m liking it! Maybe cherry magic too as I’m curious to see how it’ll be adapted to Thailand as a remake

Healthiest relationship in a bl: patpran. Do I even need to say more? They might’ve had a little drama before they got together but you HAVE to have a healthy mf relationship to maintain it while “lying” saying you’ve broken up to your parents & some of ur friends

Most toxic relationship in a bl: vegaspete. See they’re lowkey more toxic in my head than they are on screen. Like yes vegas electrocuted Pete’s balls but he could’ve done worse and I think he should’ve! The toxic aspect was what made it fun (also who would I be if they didn’t make it on a fav Thai bl list at least Once)

Guilty pleasure series: idk what I’d consider a guilty pleasure BUT I thought the first episode of tharntype (which I actually only watched recently lmao) was kinda camp. Like it literally OPENS with Type saying he loves college except for one problem… GAY PEOPLE EXIST 😡🤬 that’s comedy. I burst out laughing. Can’t say I love the show as a whole tho

Most underrated series (mel I love that u added this bc I kno exactly what to say): SECRET CRUSH ON YOU. I NEED TO PROMOTE IT. I think people who dropped it did so bc it was so over the top but that’s exactly why you should keep going??? It’s SO saturated and the emotions are ALWAYS at 100 it’s hilarious but in the moments it gets emotional (episode 13…) it GOES ALL IN!!! The constant secondhand embarrassment made me literally start sweating but in a good way?? Ppl who reduce it to just cringe have missed all the beauty it offers. I regret not watching it live and I feel like I don’t see enough people talking about it… also I am literally toh <3

Surprisingly some of my beloved Thai bls didn’t make it onto this list but it seems that’s cuz I still have bad buddy/not me brain worms forever 🙃 I stand by what I said either way hehe

I’ll tag @joyladagang @loserlesbianongsa @jyuubin @petrichoraline @iliketodecompose <33333

[rebouks]

Idk if you’ve already done this (newer follower and still catching up) but would you ever do a post on how you plan a post? Like what your planning process looks like with shots, poses, etc? You’re one of my favorite storytellers and I hope to get on your level one day but no idea what goes into a true story telling post

Ooooh hi hello, welcome! I don't believe I have ever gone into my process, no! but how interesting.. what better excuse! let's take yesterdays post as an example, shall we? 👀

First of all, we start with the premise/notes, which are very rough n' look like this in a word document...

Camping – the twins are fiiighting/being a pain, Oscar loses temper with em n almost says why can’t u be like ur brother?! throwing him into memories of Salton saying that to him all the time :[ he catches himself like no wait ur perfect I just gotta finish this, twins like wtf?? But robin ofc knows what’s going on with his pappy.. Oscar wanders off later n Robin sits with him, ur not like them u kno, what? Grandma n grandpa ur not the same, OUGH ;-;

2. I suppose this step changes depending on what I feel like, sometimes I'll make the poses/take the screenies first, then write the dialogue, other times I'll write the dialogue first.. I try for the latter since I can make more accurate poses, but time is usually my enemy here cos dialogue needs a nice quiet period to write lmao (let's call this step dialogue for now though)

3. Rip sims for blender, make poses, then head in game to dress everyone, set dress and take screenies, I take a LOT and choose the best ones but here're some unedited examples for you... In this case cos there was a flashback, I also had to remake Oscar/fam as a child n' whatnot, but luckily I have their old house saved so I plonked them all in an alternative save to take those.

4. Now we have our dialogue/screenies, it's time to throw it all together in photoshop, I usually edit the screenie first to fix any clipping etc, fix the lighting, sharpen it up a bit maybe.. but that's about it! Then I press my handy lil (custom made) storyboard action and end up with smth like this, to which I add the text! (this step takes the longest prolly.. cos it takes me forever to pick the screenies I wanna use my GOD 🙈)

VOILA! Once I've chosen all the screenies in the right order I go thru each of em in PS one by one to edit/add captions, then we're done! \o/

I realise this probably seems quite quick/vague or even streamlined if u wanna toot my horn lmaooo but I've spent a while doing this by now so ig I've kinda figured out the quickest way of doing it - still tho, I'd imagine the above still taking between 4-5 hours from start to finish! I usually spread these things over days/weeks in advance tho like.. during the week I mostly make poses/take screenies and write, then at the weekend I'll usually edit a bunch n' throw it all together, so it doesn't rlly feel tedious since I'm switching it up all the time/doing what I fancy.

[videostak]

really literally no idea where to go from here. i mean i know my best bets are to get a job and to continue college but searching for a job has been a complete dead end and no amount of time has changed that and im really gonna have to like hardcore study my ass off to even be comfortable taking classes again so that i dont have a repeat of failing all my classes liek b4.  i just feel so completely disenchanted with the world atm and like i kno things will if not get better than atleast change which should make things different but like its just hard to even know where to go or what to do when u meet someone and meet all their friends and have to learn secondhand that not a single one of them thinks of u as being worthy of being treated with respect and like a decent human being. llike its not exactly easy to just get back up on your feet and run into the same brick wall face first again. if it was something that happened over the span of like a 2 months or so or even a year maybe it wouldntve fucked me up so bad but the fact that like 3 years of my life went by like this really just makes me feel like i have to learn how to walk again. like the level of vulnerabilty and trust i put in people and that people are well aware of me putting in them just for them to act like they dont even know me is insane like thats not something im really willing to put myself in a position to go through again. and everyone in the entire world telling that that friendship and human connection is the most vital thing in life and the only reason for living is like fucking me up too like its true but hearing it for all my life for me to be treated that way by peoplewho believe that too is rly just like messing w/ my brain. like to consistently meet and trust shitty ppl is one thing but its happened so consistently in my life that like it just pours into the way i think abt everything and i dont really kno if or who i can trust anymore like even when i pour three years of my life trying to build and maintain a friendship wiht someone who claims to be doing the same i dont think ill ever actually know the comfort since the rug can so easily be sweeped from under my feet any secodn as far into the friendship as possible. it just like reaches the point where i dont wanna think abt it anymore or think anymore and like to not even have any of their friends even check up on me or ask for my side of the story is so insane like i get it im not worth caring abt but like its insane that ppl can knowingly do such awful things unchecked and just go on with their life with all of their close friends writing it off as an average imperfection and to continue to consider them an angel in every aspect. like really just cannot trust people anymore and like i start to see feel patterns that just make me want to nap for days straight. been using bumble and just wanna keep it just so that i can say im trying but like i dont kno if ill not ever feel horrible abt that vulnerabilty and the way ppl treat me. guessing its cause when ppl catch wind of me not having any other friends they realize they can do whatever and that i wont have any1 to gossip to and that itll never come back to bite them.