#regret™ lmao

[rottmnt-residuum]

So in the last update that agent threw some kind of ball at Raph and Leo. My best guess is that it's some kind of holding device that traps mystic energy, right? But I got a little confused at the Krang. Was that just what Leo and Raph felt like? I mean that their mystic energy got "sucked away" again, like what Krang did. Also those balls were what they bought (?) from that yokai with the cloaking brooch. Will those have a significant role later on, or will you explain a bit more about them if you didn't already?

*slides in from my self banishment*

Yes! the kraang is basically what they are feeling! a.k.a it's a ptsd episode. You got it in one ;P

You know, i kinda forget not everyone is working under the same base knowledge of the show... anyway! we proceed!

As far as i can tell the hidden city police have a few different ways of detaining suspects. The first as seen in 'raphs ride along' are these:

they're just a less invasive version of cuffs really... consequently, they're also basically useless. perp can still get away and all that, mind you, they can't get out without keys... but that's pretty easily solved

the next type is the anti-mystic device:

these bad-boys suck up spells and absolutely wreck any mystic device within its limited range. barry's cloaking broach shatters and is basically unrecoverable, and as you can see it sucks up the mystic odachi's portal. they seem to just suck up any mystic energy thats 'in use'. so as long as you're not doing anything mysticy you're good

For Residuum, the way they work is that any currently active mystic energy is sucked in and stored, so as long as you keep using your mystics the longer it will keep going. Though it does cap out at around ten minutes, it can only hold so much. At any rate, it's best to not use mystics if this thing (multiple of these things) is on the battlefield, as, if you continue to try, you'll end up with an empty tank.

Depending on how mystical exhaustion works, that could be either mildly inconvenient, or deadly!

as to their significance in the comic... i'd say they'll be pretty significant

[the-kipsabian]

IMPORTANT POLL TIME!!

vote on this based on whatever merits you wish, but make sure its based on the garment and not rest of him or the outfit, the era, the character, etc. the images are just a very basic examples as hes had multiples of each variation, i will provide more if necessary

im just asking out of my own pure curiosity, personally loving the longboys he has now but also the shorts make me feel so im just wondering which preference others have

youre more than free to reblog this (and let it escape my bubble) for bigger sample size and tags are open for discussion. i think. keep it civil, please

[musical-chick-13]

Also I want to point out that there ARE some horrible women in fiction that I genuinely don't like. Like the girl from fucking Oreshura.

[fairydares]

loook i get why the idea of riding the "anti/pro" fandom disk horse makes people gag a little in their mouth and try to opt out entirely, but here's why i went from feeling exactly the same way to taking a firm profiction stance. I've been meaning to make this post for a while.

~10 years ago, I posted a fic for the first time and it got its own harassment campaign. The fic wasn't even sexual, and wasn't going to be (it remains incomplete). It was accurately rated T on fanfiction.net. Anyone in the Fairy Tail fandom will understand this: I literally got harassed for writing a "Lucy leaves the guild" fic💀.

After many nice comments, someone left a pretty nasty one. Hurt, I messaged them back. They acted super attacked that I'd responded (lmao) and after we argued, threatened to "rip my shitty story apart in the comments section" if I responded again. I told them "go ahead lol."

They went ahead.

Now know that it was a relatively small harassment campaign, but at the time, it was devastating. Right around then, I wound up in the hospital. After I got out, I went to excitedly check my fic, and found several reviews saying things I wouldn't repeat to my worst enemy. I was suicide-baited more than once, told "thank fuck you finally abandoned this shitty story, dumb cunt," stuff like that.

There were several accounts involved, and I can't say for sure, but I suspect at least a couple different people were involved, though probably at least half of it was one person.

All the other comments were screeching about how I hadn't updated, mostly. "NO UPDAAATEE WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS TO MEEEE??!!!" was one that stood out after I'd been miserable in a hospital for an extended period of time.

Idk what people think is going on when FT fic authors write this trope, and frankly I don't give a fuck. Because while I was partly writing the story out of some young, cringe feminist rage, I also did genuinely have a real story I was compelled to tell. I was inspired by another, popular fic I loved which used the trope to talk about how trying to shoulder our burdens alone really just hurts both ourselves and everyone who cares about us.

My own story was ultimately going to have similar themes, with more focus on strength, what it means, and in what contexts earning and having it actually matters. In retrospect, no wonder I wound up in hot water, because at the time "Lucy vs. Strength vs. Misogyny" was the FT fandom's Designated Nonsensically Activist Debate™. But that's partly why i wanted to write about it; engaging with the fandom had gotten me thinking about it 🤷‍♂️

Not too long after that, FFNet oh-so-benevolently granted us the ability to delete comments from our own stories (they never took my reports seriously at all, afaik). I deleted all or most of the harassers' comments (may still be a one or two up, and i'm fairly sure there's a couple comments defending my fic from the harassment) without saving screenshots, which I really regret now. I was just so mortified and full of self-loathing about the whole thing that i wanted to forget it completely. Something that had brought me joy at a very lonely, vulnerable period of my life had turned so negative, and i couldn't even tell the people closest to me about it without being made fun of for writing anime fan fiction.

I didn't understand why this happened at the time, but--after a period of trying to forget/bid out of it all with a slight anti lean (a common approach I see people use, and one which I'm not proud of adopting)--I just had to figure out What the Fuck Even Happened There. And I'm telling you, after years of reflecting, wrestling with both sides, and educating myself, that this "status quo of harassment" culture which pervades fandom goes way deeper than you think and comes out of a way darker well than you probably realize. An astonishing amount of this is, quite literally, TERF shit and evangelical shit.

Trying to be in fandom and take a stance of, "Anti/Pro shit? Ew, I'm Not Touching that," is like swimming in a heavily polluted river and being like, "Poison? Cringe. Not me lol."

You might be lucky enough to be in a less-polluted part of the river (AKA a relatively non-toxic fandom, in which case good for you!)...but tbh this rhetoric and peer-signalling will still seep in.

I can't stress enough that pro-fiction, AKA "proship", is the normal, leftist-about-art-and-sex opinion. Pro-ship is against all the horrible things you're against; in fact, pro-ship isn't trivializing real trauma by equating it with fictional trauma, or trying to apply literal evangelical/radfem solutions--which are proven not to prevent or help. Profiction/proship is literally just saying, "Fiction is fiction, reality is reality, and the two don't have a 1:1 relationship. And historically, trying to censor just things we've decided are bad has done nothing but get LGBTQ+ and POCs censored. Therefore, depictions of illegal things shouldn't be censored." That's it. "Proshippers all ship problematic ships," is a brazen lie. Many of them share other fans' disgust for those ships, they just don't believe in censoring fic authors over it.

It is also taking a stand against harassment because--and I hope my own story has helped drive this home--as with all groups who adopt ingroup/outgroup thinking, antis are defined by their tactics, not actual stances on real, serious issues. What happened to me was absolutely a result of anti, "it's okay to 'bully out' anything I just don't like" mindset pervading fandom. In a way, this was the mindset's final form. They didn't even feel the need to cite a reason the trope was "bad" or "wrong"; it annoyed them, and they viewed their own feelings as a valid enough pathway for policing to go right ahead and do so.

In the interest of offering solutions instead of just bitching about problems, I might make a "how to know if you've bought into these types of views"-type post sometime. Also might come back to this and provide some sources/citation.

[auroracalisto]

good enough

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x gn!reader, 8k words tw: MAJOR MISCOMMUNICATION TROPE. divorce, cussing (lots of f bombs at some point), lots of arguing, angst, at one point, reader is said to have had depression before. the reader and bradley are both idiots and neither one of them can properly deal with shit. macho man rooster ends up letting fear gets the best of him and he literally ruins his own life bc of it LMAO, possibly ooc if you squint, possibly questionable actions when it comes to friends, this is dramatic as hell (and i loved every minute of it), self-doubt, angry characters, regret is strong here, rooster fears death and makes it a personality trait™ a/n: based on the song "good enough" by maisie peters. sorry for all of the tws, but i just wanted to try and mark all the boxes. but fr i love bradley. this is purely a play on the song i named, and is just a piece of fiction. a dramatic piece of fiction. like literally take rooster and place him in some angsty romance novel, but cut out the smut. that's this. i am also so sorry for the length of this. i just... started going and i couldn't stop. LMAO

Your heart lurched to your throat as you stood there, his head turned away from your lips—he was avoiding your touch. He didn’t have to say it for you to realize it.

You hesitantly smiled, backing down. Maybe he just had a bad day. It happened pretty often, so taking it personally wouldn’t have benefited you in any way.

He was your favorite person, and you knew you were his. You two were best friends until the end of time. That’s how it had been since even before you two got married—that’s how it would stay.

The television that sat in the living room had long since been turned off. The fan perched in the corner of the room silently hummed along, providing little relief to the California heat that plagued your home.

"Rooster," you began, rubbing the back of your neck. Sweat stuck to the palm of your hand, and you grimaced as you quickly wiped your hand off on the seat of your pants. "How was your day? I know it's been busy—"

"—we need to talk," he said, cutting you off.

He didn't even give you a chance to question things as he walked past you, sitting down on the sofa in your shared condominium. You blinked slowly at your husband, but you gave a small nod. Your feet moved on their own accord as you sat beside him. You placed a hand on his knee, and he only pulled himself away from you.

You swallowed thickly, nerves getting the best of you. Had you done something to offend him recently? Did something happen with Maverick again? You had thought they were doing well—the videos Natasha had sent you were proof enough of that. It warmed your heart to know that he was finally finding himself in this crazy world.

Maybe it was just hot. Yes, that’s it. The heat was getting to him. It had been getting to everyone on base, and at work. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was the same thing here.

"Bradley…?" You said nothing more than his name, watching him with nothing but pure adoration behind your eyes. He meant the world to you. There was nothing he could say or do to change this, even if he was avoiding you.

The man looked at anything but you. His dark brown eyes stared at the black television, and then they moved to the grey carpet just beneath his boot-clad feet.

You must have just vacuumed. He could see the indentations, and that’s what he chose to focus on as he searched for the right words to say. But they never came.

"I want a divorce," he said.

It was so simple. Those four words.

And just like that, your world came crashing around you.

Where was this coming from? Did you do something to upset him?

The words swirled around in your brain, repeating over and over until it hit you like a freight train, knocking the air from your chest. He wants a divorce.

You sat on the edge of the black sofa, eyes fluttering shut as you took in a deep breath. Your hands rested in fists on top of your thighs as you wracked your mind for an explanation. You couldn't find one.

There was nothing that could justify whatever this was.

How long had he been thinking about this?

"Where… where is this coming from?" you asked. You just had to know.

"I don't want to talk about it. Just… please."

"What?" You looked up at him in disbelief. "You—you want to divorce me but you won't even give me a reason?" you asked. Your eyes burned as you held back your tears. You couldn't cry. Not now. If you cried that first tear, then surely, they would never stop.

"I have never asked you for anything, Y/n. Please, just say yes.”

"I don't understand where this is coming from, Bradley," you said, reaching forward to take ahold of his hand. "Please. Talk to me. I want to understand what's going on."

Rooster clenched his jaw, looking down at your hands. Your wedding band glinted in the soft glow of the light overhead. The beautiful piece glared at him as he fought to find the right words to say—but nothing he could say would make this better. Not now.

The words left him without a second thought.

"I don't love you."

Oh.

Oh, no.

No, no, no. He couldn't be serious. He couldn't be telling you the truth right now. He did love you. He married you! Why would he ever ask you to marry him if he didn't love you?

Why would you plan your life together if he didn’t love you?

But even though you could create more and more questions in your mind, trying to placate every emotion coursing through your veins, nothing made sense.

You pulled your hand away as your tears finally began to fall. If he didn't love you, you wouldn't force him to be with you any more than he wanted.

Rooster inwardly grimaced, but he wasn’t about to let you see that. He needed to be strong—he needed to save face and keep on digging in the same grave he had started.

"Just… just tell me when."

"When what?"

"When did this happen? When did you fall out of love? I—I thought you loved me, Bradley. I love you."

He pursed his lips. He seemed to hesitate as he allowed his eyes to meet yours. Rooster's blood rushed to his ears, and his fingers itched to grab onto something. To grab onto you. But he couldn’t. He couldn't even look at you properly when you looked so sad, but he forced himself to do so anyway. You deserved that, at least. You deserved to be looked at when he was ending the relationship you fought so hard to keep.

"I don't know. It just… happened."

He was lying. He had to be lying. There was no way he was being honest—he loves you. He loves you, and this was all just some bad dream. Some bad joke that Hangman put him up to. Maybe Fanboy was in on it, too. Surely, someone put him up to this. They had money in a bowl somewhere, waiting for your reaction so they would know who won. He’d whip out his phone soon and text them the result.

But the way he looked at you… you knew he was telling you the truth. He wanted a divorce. This was happening, whether you wanted it to or not. There was no cruel bet, no ulterior motive.

This was happening.

Every moment of the past three years pierced your brain—Bradley asking you out in the middle of the Hard Deck. Meeting his friends. Picking out your wedding rings. Becoming Y/n Bradshaw. The kisses you shared. The whispered conversations, the happy smiles, the—

He was your life. He is your life. You love him more than life itself.

But he loved you.

Loved. Past-tense.

He did love you. Something changed. What had changed?

You abruptly stood up, roughly wiping your tears away. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be near him right now. Your heart was far too heavy, weighed down by the immense burden of his confession.

"Alright," you said. "I… I won't force you to stay with me. I would never do that to you, Bradley. I would… I would never, ever want you to do anything you don’t want to do.” You held back a sob, fists balled at your sides. “We can get a divorce."

Relief spread across his face. He couldn't smile, though. This ended up being a lot harder than he expected it to be.

"Thank you," he said. He stood up, towering over you like usual. "I appreciate it."

You gave a curt nod, averting your gaze. Your tongue poked out, nervously wetting your lips as you cleared your throat. He appreciated it.

Were you just a joke to him?

"I will… I will make arrangements. I will leave by next week."

"What? You don't have to do that. There's no rush—"

"—I'll leave by next week," you cut him off, no longer looking at him.

What was he doing? You didn’t need this. You didn’t need him. As you took a step forward, the tears began to fall. Your husband forced himself to stay put as you rushed off to your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

You found little comfort in the blankets that now surrounded you, tears wetting the pillow on which you rested your head night after night. You found little comfort in the place you spent with your husband, time after time, lamenting how much you loved each other. Planning the future of your life—of your family. Of your relationship that should have only grown in love.

The memories of this bed burned in the back of your mind. You could hardly breathe as the sobs plowed through your body.

This wasn’t fair.

This couldn’t be real.

Rooster slowly sat back down, burying his face in his hands. His elbows dug into his thighs, a choked sob catching in the back of his throat. He couldn’t believe he allowed himself to say that to you. It was far from the truth. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

This was for the best.

This would keep you safe.

As the sun peered through the grey curtains, setting just beyond the horizon, Rooster stood up. He wiped his tears away, instantly hardening. He had done this time and time again. He would hide, folding back into himself like a metal chair—he’d be there for people when he was needed, but he would be just out of the way until then. He wouldn’t bother you any longer than he needed to.

This was for the best—you wouldn’t have to live your life wondering what could have been.

If he died, that was that. You would move on, and he could rest peacefully in the afterlife.

His father hadn’t ever given his mother a chance to do something like that. He wouldn’t be making the same mistake.

Three years had passed.

Three, long and grueling years had inched by, taking your misery along with you. The New Year would pass over and over, and the only thing you would write on your resolution list was: Move on.

But you never could. That list ended up in the garbage only weeks after drafting it up.

How could you when the love of your life left as he did? How could you when you knew he was the only thing that kept you going, even if you were hundreds of miles away?

They would never say it out loud, but your friends never quite said anything about why he divorced you—why he fell out of love. But why would he tell them something like that? Rooster generally kept to himself. It wasn't something that he would have been very honest about, to begin with.

You knew they knew something more, but they never said anything. You never expected them to, either. They were your friends as much as they were his, and they had been his friend for far longer. You couldn't blame them. Whatever they knew—that was his business. But you kept silent, allowing yourself to wallow in self-pity for more than you should have.

But just like you couldn't blame them for keeping his secrets… who could blame you?

You had your own life before Rooster, yes, you did. You didn’t depend on him. You were independent, and you had your own interests and everything. You didn’t need him. But with his confession, it was as if everything you had ever known had been tossed out of the window of a speeding car in an instant, shattering against the run-down pavement. Pieces flew everywhere—you'd never be able to find them again, let alone put them back together.

You'd never have enough glue for something like that.

You would never be able to repair the gaping hole that was in your heart.

And you knew it was silly. You shouldn’t have ever let yourself trust someone so completely. But you never thought something like that would happen. Rooster was so easy to love.

He was such a happy person—he exuded confidence. He was the epitome of an amazing human being. And yet, he still fell out of love with you.

You never believed someone could just fall out of love so easily.

So, instead of remaining in the very place you felt like you were sinking in, you did what you thought was best. You packed your things and moved to Virginia. At least there, you'd be far enough away that he'd never find you. The mileage did little to comfort you, but it was something.

At least here, you felt like you could breathe.

Changing from the west coast to the east coast was drastic—but you adapted. You had to. You couldn't continue living in the very place that was threatening you at every given minute. You couldn’t continue on in a place where at every corner, something reminded you of him. It was driving you into a familiar depression—one that you had known before Rooster, and one that you would now know after Rooster.

When you left, Phoenix was devastated. Other than Bob, you were her closest friend. She never stopped talking to you—she never stopped being friends with you, even when you moved across the country. When Phoenix asked you to come in to visit, you hesitated. But then she promised you that Rooster wouldn't be there. That he would be visiting some family he had up north—his girlfriend's family. He would be using this free time to get to know them better.

You wouldn't say you were happy for him. Hell, that was far from the truth. Despite the fact you no longer wore your ring on your finger, it was always on a chain around your neck. Your heart still beats for him, no matter how many times you had tried to move on. And you did it all. You tried everything that Google said to do. One night stands, going out with strangers, having people set you up, hell, you even tried therapy. But it never worked.

Why would it? Rooster was the love of your life. He was the one you had seen yourself dying with—he was the one you wanted to grow old with. And he didn't want that in you. He didn't see the same things.

He didn’t see your relationship as a rising sun just beyond the mountain tops. He was already there with the setting sun, disappearing beyond the horizon. He had been there, at the end of your relationship, far before you even had a chance to find the middle. He had made peace with the end. You couldn’t even find peace in the beginning.

After much pestering and a FaceTime call from both Phoenix and Bob, you were convinced to join them back in California for a week. But your only condition was that Phoenix would be paying half for your plane ticket. She agreed in a heartbeat.

So that's why you stood here now, in front of the old dormitory in which you used to visit your friends in. You had already been to the hotel you'd be staying at, and you took a taxi to the base.

The grey building towered over you, making you feel far smaller than you actually were. Memories sat behind those walls, waiting for you to relive them, even if you didn’t want to.

It only took one text message to Natasha before she came barreling down the sidewalk, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. Bob was not far behind, and Hangman was taking his sweet ole time. You didn't know he'd be around, but you felt better knowing he was—you had been close before Rooster sent in the papers. He helped you pack and get your things to Virginia.

You hugged Phoenix tightly, smiling up at her.

"It's been too long!" she nearly shouted, excitement running through her body. As she pulled away, Bob pulled you into a hug. He greeted you as he had so many times, with a hug and a simple ‘hello.’

Last but not least, Hangman sent you a smile. He pulled you into a hug, despite the fact he used to be one of the last people you would expect it from. You melted into the hug, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"It's… it's good to be back. I'm glad to see you guys."

"Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy are already at the bar. Said they'd just meet us there. You ready?" Phoenix grinned.

You were as ready as you would ever be. You gave a small nod to your friend, and before you knew it, you were on your way to the very place you met your ex-husband. The Hard Deck.

It was suffocating, standing in that corner all alone. Your friends played pool, and you watched as the different colored balls sunk into the pockets that lined the edge. Hangman stood off to the side, beating some stranger in darts.

Rooster had always been good at that.

Lost in your mind like you had been so many times before, the sound of a glass falling at the bar made you jump.

And then you saw him. Your own glass slipped through your fingertips, crashing onto the floor. Shards littered the wood floor. Phoenix yelped your name in surprise, coming to your side immediately.

"What's wrong?" she asked, placing a hand on your arm to try and comfort you. You continued to stare, and she eventually looked in the direction of your gaze. Her eyes widened in surprise, lips parting as she tried to find something to say.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to be anywhere near you.

And he was looking right at you.

"Y/n, it's okay, he's not—"

You pulled your arm away from Phoenix, taking a couple of steps back before you took off running in the direction of the restrooms. It was as good of a hiding spot as anywhere, and you'd be able to collect yourself before going back out there. You couldn’t possibly run past him—he’d stop you. Or at least, try to follow you. Phoenix would make him leave. Surely, she wouldn't just let him stay.

You locked yourself in a stall, sitting down on the toilet seat. You took in a deep, releasing a shaky breath as tears clouded your vision. A hand pressed to your mouth, elbows digging into the meat of your thighs as you tried to keep yourself calm.

This wasn't happening! She promised he wasn't here. Why would she lie?

Maybe she didn't know.

The bright light in the bathroom was far too much.

The dripping water from the sink struck the porcelain—plip, plip, plip.

The noise from the bar was deafening as you sat there, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Loud voices echoed through the building, striking your ears in an instant. But the more you cried, the more your sobs became the only thing you heard.

It had been ages since you cried over him, so why now? Why were you so triggered by just seeing him?

You tried to calm yourself down but to no avail.

You loved him. You love him. You never stopped. You couldn't just stop.

You tried so hard. You spent years trying to forget the man who ripped your heart in two with four simple words.

But the universe had a funny way of working. It seemed to work against you in every way possible, no matter what.

You could never win.

You would never win.

No matter what, you were never good enough.

You hadn't been good enough in school. You weren't good enough at work. And you hadn't been good enough for Rooster, even when you were married. You weren't good enough for him, now, either.

There was a knock at the bathroom door before you heard it creak open. Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to keep quiet, choked sobs caught in your chest.

Worn shoes popped up underneath the stall door you found refuge in. Those same damn shoes you bought him once for Christmas, four years ago. He had been so excited—they were almost the exact same pair his mother had bought him one year for his birthday. His father's favorite brand—his favorite style of shoe.

God, you searched everywhere for those damn shoes.

And he kept them.

Silence enveloped the bathroom, save for your stifled sobs. You rested your shoulder against the old paneled walls, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to ignore him. But he knew you were there. It was far too late, now.

Rooster stood there, fist raised to knock on the stall door. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. What would he even say? What would have been good enough?

Three years had come and gone without you. Three long years in which he felt as if he was drowning, just existing. He would have been better off launching himself into that ocean, the same as his father. His wedding band was stuffed away in some kind of pocket, always near him or on his person in some way. He tried to get over you—one-night stands, blind dates, even going as far as asking Hangman to find him a girl.

It worked, for a while.

He started dating Kristie—a sweet woman who worked as a nurse on base. But she saw right through him. She knew who he was, and what was going on in that head of his.

She wasn't mad—a bit disappointed, yes, but it didn't stop her from breaking up with him and canceling their planned vacation up north together.

She wasn’t you. She would never be you.

And he didn’t think he would ever see you again.

Rooster found himself in the middle of the Hard Deck, never once expecting you to be there. None of the Dagger Squad had said anything about you. He didn't know you were even going to be in town.

He felt like he couldn't breathe when he laid eyes on you.

The yellow lighting cast a soft glow on your skin. You were beautiful. You had always been beautiful, but damn, you looked even more beautiful now. Maybe it was just the years that had passed him by.

The walls of his small corner of the world couldn’t fall on him sooner.

The glass that crunched under your shoes became the only thing he heard until he watched as you ran back into the hallway.

In a split second, Hangman was beside him, obviously pissed.

"What the hell, man? Why aren't you with Kristie?"

"She broke it off."

Hangman clenched his jaw. He couldn't believe this was happening, but then again, Rooster had his head far up his ass more often than not. Hangman punched him in the arm, just enough for it to hurt.

"You need to leave," he said, watching as Rooster recoiled in pain.

"What?" Rooster looked at him in surprise. "No."

"Yes!" he exclaimed. Was this idiot really that much of an asshole?

This time, Phoenix spoke up, her arms crossed over her chest. "We promised you wouldn't be here. You're supposed to be up north. You're supposed to be far away from here!"

"You promised?" Rooster stared her down.

"Well, yeah, you asshole! You broke their heart. They didn't even want to come here in the first place. God, I should've just gone to see them instead of dragging them out here," Phoenix groaned, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand.

Rooster hesitantly took a step forward.

"Rooster, get out," Hangman said, voice low.

He shook his head. He needed to talk to you.

"Rooster!"

He broke out into a run, and before Hangman could follow, Phoenix grabbed his arm.

"What the hell?" he stared at her in disbelief.

"Just let it happen," she said.

"Let what happen? Watch Y/n get their heart stepped on all over again?"

"Just… just let it happen."

Phoenix would wait for you to berate her, later. But for now, she could only wish her friends would try to make up. She could only wish that Rooster would gain a pair and grow up. Her heart ached for you as she watched Rooster run back to the bathrooms, knowing that she couldn’t ever take the pain away from you. The only one who could do that was Rooster, himself, and even then, she wasn’t sure if that would happen.

And now, he found himself standing there, the silence deafening in the small space. The light was bright in the enclosure—brighter than he remembered. His hand was still hovering, his arm growing heavy as he debated on knocking.

Should he just leave? Should he do as Hangman said and walk out? But he couldn't just leave. Not now. Not when he knew he made the biggest mistake of his life, telling you all that bullshit.

You used your sleeves to wipe your tears away as you shakily got to your feet. Your fingers struggled to even unlock the stall door, but when you did, you swung it open. Rooster had to back up just to avoid being hit with the metal.

The two of you just stood there, bright light casting shadows onto the old tile floor. Not a word was said as Rooster stared at you.

You were exactly as he remembered, if not better. You had changed your hair since the last time he saw you. He kept the mustache, and his hair was still cut the same. You kept the same style and the same makeup (or lack thereof).

You still looked at him the same… even if it quickly changed into one of anger.

You were still so beautiful.

His voice caught in his throat. He wanted to talk to you, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to you. Nothing he could say would make things better.

He was such an idiot.

You stepped forward, walking to the stark white sink. You grabbed a few paper towels and wet them before carefully wiping the remnants of your tears. You stared at your reflection in the rounded mirror, your lip caught between your teeth as you hiccuped.

"Y/n?" Rooster tentatively began. He raised a hand to touch your shoulder.

You immediately moved away from his touch, glaring in his direction.

His fist clenched beside him as he watched you.

You tossed the paper towels in the trash and pushed past him, quickly leaving the bathroom.

"Y/n," he repeated.

As you walked, he followed.

Your friends stood in their respective corner, knowing they should intervene. Yet they stayed, hoping that somehow, Rooster would fix his fuck up. They couldn’t keep watching the two of you fight some imaginary battle—they couldn’t watch the two of you wish your life away for something that was quite literally at the tips of your fingers.

Phoenix wasn't too sure if he'd be able to fix this. Hangman honestly wanted to hang a man.

You shoved the doors open, walking into the cool California night. It wasn’t like the cold in Virginia. Virginia’s winters were unforgiving—the snow that would fall would chill you to your very core. Virginia winters would put southern California to shame in an instant. At this very moment, you wished you were there, standing in the chilling wind, begging for some kind of relief—at least then, your body would become numb even if your mind was still running a mile a minute.

Nothing could have prepared you for what had transpired. Nothing could have prepared you for seeing the man you fought so hard to forget.

With no car, you continued walking. You'd call a taxi at some point. Right now, you just needed to breathe.

But you had yet to realize Rooster was still following you.

The man grabbed ahold of your wrist, making you stop in the middle of the damn parking lot. Cars and trucks alike littered the parking spots. A few people walked past you as they went into the bar, ignoring the tension that stood in the middle of it all.

You whipped around, jerking your arm away from him with wide eyes. "What's your fucking problem?!"

Rooster paused, body going rigid as he waited for you to continue.

You had never yelled at him, even when he asked for a divorce.

"Why the fuck are you even here? You're not supposed to be here! You have a fucking girlfriend. Get away from me. I don't ever want to see you again."

Tears sprung to your eyes once more. You tilted your head back, wishing they would just stop. The stars stared down at you, mocking you where you stood. The sky was so close, and yet so far away.

God, would this man ever make you stop crying?

"Y/n—"

"—just go away! I don't want you here!"

"Please," he began, "I need to talk to you. I need to apologize."

"Apologize?! Oh, that's rich! Just leave me alone. You did enough damage when you asked for a divorce. Just leave me alone."

"Y/n, please," he continued. "You… please just hear me out."

"I heard you out once, and it was the worst fucking time of my life," you said. "I'm not listening to you ever again."

You turned back around, set on leaving—this time a bit faster. But his words grounded you in your spot, heart leaping to your throat once more.

"It was a mistake!"

You stared at the gravel that crunched underneath your feet. You could feel your pulse rushing through your body, fast and unsteady.

Nothing could have prepared you for that.

"It was a mistake, Y/n," he said, his voice far quieter this time. "I never should have asked for a divorce. I never should have said anything. I should—I should have just—"

"—what, toughed it out? Let me realize you stopped loving me when you started cheating on me or some shit?"

His eyes widened in surprise.

"What? No. No, Y/n… I… I never should have said anything. I never stopped loving you."

What?

You couldn't breathe—your lungs constricted in your chest, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Your body burned as you looked up at the night sky, stars littering the vast ocean of darkness. They still mocked you, but this time, dark clouds rolled in. Perhaps the sky knew just how you felt. The moon cast a soft glow on everything in its path.

Tears blurred your vision once more.

He never stopped loving you.

You let out a sob, turning to face him.

"What?"

"I never stopped loving you," Rooster lamented. "I… still love you."

"Then… then… why?"

"I couldn't do it to you."

"What? Do what?"

"I couldn't die! I couldn't die and leave you a widow. I couldn't end up with the same fate my dad had, leaving you just the same as my mom," he said.

"Well you're not fucking dead, are you?!"

Rooster paused, lips parting to speak.

"You're not dead. You're standing right in front of me, telling me that the reason you fucking divorced me was because you didn't want me to be a widow?! I would have been less upset if you had fucking died!" You took in a deep breath, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You did not have to do that. You did not have to make me miserable. You did not have to make me feel like the one person who loved me was an entire lie!”

Rooster winced. Your words pierced his soul like a sharp bullet, ricocheting off the crevices of his very soul.

"Fuck off, Bradley Bradshaw," you said, fists clenched at your sides. "I never want to see you again."

"But Y/n—"

"—no! No, I'm over you, you bastard! I don't love you anymore. I haven't in years. You're still in love with me? That's great. Fucking deal with it. You deserve to feel the pain of not knowing. You deserve to lose yourself in everything you thought was yours.”

Bradley Bradshaw had never felt as if he wasn't good enough. When he was faced with adversity, he worked harder. When he felt bad about something, he did more to try and overcome that. He had never felt as if anything he did wasn't good enough. But in this very moment, he stood there, wondering how in the world he could have fucked up so badly.

He wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough, for you. That much was evident as he watched you once again walk away from him, disappearing into the night.

His eyes fluttered shut and he held back his tears as he stood there, waiting for lightning to strike him where he stood. Surely, it'd be better than having to go back into the Hard Deck after a screaming match like that.

He deserved it.

A hand on his shoulder made him flinch. He opened his eyes, head darting in the person's direction. Hangman watched him for a moment before he patted his back.

"You fucked up, man," he began, averting his gaze. "Now you've gotta fix it."

"But how?"

"For fucks sake, Rooster," he groaned. He ran a hand through his perfect hair, musing it from the stress of his friend. He couldn't believe he'd ever thought Rooster might actually be a pretty smart guy. This dude was dumber than a box of rocks, and this just proved it.

"They still love you, you know," Bob said, arms crossed over his chest. "We heard what they said, but they're just hurt. You really did a number on them."

He glanced over his shoulder. The Dagger Squad stood there, all watching him as he stood there, in the middle of the parking lot.

This… was all his fault.

Those four simple words should have never left his mouth. He should have been spending the last three years with you, not trying to forget you. Because if he were to have died in that time, it would have at least been with you and not with the overwhelming ghost of you haunting his every waking move. He could have at least left you behind knowing you were loved instead of wondering if he ever truly loved you at all.

Time passed slowly in the month it took you to finally calm down from the emotional rollercoaster Rooster had you on. You were back in your apartment, the east coast calling your name (even though the west coast screamed for your return; the sandy beaches and the salty water just weren’t the same, here).

Your heart ached—every romantic thing you saw made you want to cry. It all reminded you of your ex-husband, and now, there was no changing things. In your anger, you had told him you never wanted to see him again—that you didn't love him. You made sure he knew that when you left him standing in the middle of that damned parking lot.

What a lie that was.

But if he could tell lies, why couldn't you? Why couldn't you force him to live with the idea that you didn't love him, just the way he did that to you?

Regret became you.

You wondered if that’s how he felt all this time—regretful.

Did Rooster even have a bone in his body that was capable of feeling anything other than pride?

Maverick would know.

Did he know about all of this? He had been Rooster’s best man at the wedding. Surely, he knew something.

Your arm rested over your eyes, blocking out the sunlight that peaked through your curtains. Saturday mornings never got easier for you. Hell, no morning did. Getting up was a constant chore. You had already gotten ready for the morning, but you slipped right back into bed, not wanting to deal with the idea of being a live, somewhat functioning adult at the moment.

Your phone began to ring, loud and in your ear as you lay in bed, staring at the back of your arm. With a groan, you rolled over and picked it up.

Phoenix was calling you.

You answered after a moment of your fingers hovering over the bright buttons. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone.

"Hello?"

"Y/n? Hey! So, uh, quick thing, and I promise you I didn't know about it until Bagman just said something, but he gave Rooster your address."

Silence enveloped your bedroom as you processed what she had just said.

"What?!" You immediately sat up in your bed, gripping your phone with unforgiving strength. "What the hell!"

"I know," she continued, voice laced with worry—she didn’t know how you were going to take this. "I know, and I'm sorry. But, uh, he said that Rooster is probably gonna show up within the next hour or so. He caught the earliest flight out there."

"Why?"

"Why?" Natasha echoed. "Y/n, why do you think?"

You fell silent. You stared down at the blankets that pooled at your feet.

Day after day, you wondered if Rooster would show up, begging you to take him back. But the sun continued to set, day in and day out, and nothing changed. Nothing ever changed.

"Y/n, I know he's an asshole,” Natasha said. “I know he broke your heart. But… Rooster's been through a lot. He might not have realized how bad of an idea it was until he went through with it. He’s… he’s done nothing but regret it ever since.”

"I know he's been through a lot," you said, voice far quieter than it had been. "I know he has. But… but that's no excuse. We were married. I was his partner. He took that away… he took that all away.”

"There's no excuse for him," Phoenix said. "I’m not making one. You’re… you’re my very best friend. But if he shows up and you don't know what to do, you have two options. Turn him away, or… hear him out. Whatever you do, I’m here one hundred percent of the way.”

You swallowed thickly. Without saying anything else, you hung up the phone, tossing it onto your bed. You buried your face in your hands—it seemed to be the only thing you could do recently that would actually allow you to catch your breath.

And then, your doorbell rang.

That was far less than an hour.

The shrill ding of the bell resounded in your brain. You would have to get that changed to something less annoying.

Getting out of your bed and walking down the hallway was the easy part. It was opening the front door that made you want to die as your hand slowly grabbed onto the knob.

You can just turn him away. It'll be okay, you told yourself. He will leave if you want him to.

With much hesitation, you opened the door.

Rooster stood there, worried he had gotten the wrong door and Hangman had given him some shit directions. But as you appeared in the doorway, relief spread across his features. He was dressed in those same shoes you had given him. He wore a pair of jeans, and he wore one of those stupid Hawaiian shirts that he loved so much.

You still had the pink and yellow one you had stolen before you left him in the top left drawer of your dresser. It still smelled like Rooster… but the laundry detergent you had was the same exact one you had used when you were married to him.

Everything you owned reminded you of him.

"Y/n?"

"Bradley."

His eyebrows furrowed as he watched you. He nervously wrung his hands together as his eyes looked anywhere but you. This wasn’t that confident, macho man you knew. This wasn’t Rooster.

This was Bradley Bradshaw, in the flesh.

His heart was on the line, and he could only hope that the universe would grant him one last wish—let you believe him. Let you understand him.

He would understand if you turned him away. He would leave, and he would never bother you again. But he hoped that you’d accept him for who he is—for everything he has been.

Again.

Even though it took him so long to realize his mistake. Even though he made so many mistakes just to find himself trying to take it all back.

Rooster never thought he was perfect, but hell. The universe really didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, did it?

"Listen, I know you said you didn't want to see me," he began. "But I can't… I can't keep doing this."

You stayed silent.

Bradley was a lot of things. Stupid, funny, a great, flaming ball of firey anxiety. And still, the love of your life, even now.

Nothing would ever stop that from happening, even if he shoved his hand in your chest, pulled out your heart, and crushed it right in front of you.

Even now, after all this time, you knew you loved him.

He took your silence as an invitation to continue.

"I love you," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never stopped. I just… fucked up. God, Y/n, I fucked up so bad. I never should have asked you for a divorce. I never should have said any of that shit. I thought I was protecting you. But the only thing I ended up doing was hurting you more, and I never wanted that to happen.

"I love you, so much, Y/n. I never stopped. I… you are the love of my life. But… but even if I loved you, it wouldn't stop life from standing in the way. My dad died. He left my mom all alone. I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't bear the thought of you suffering, all alone, wondering what the hell you could have done to make things different. I couldn't let you have the same fate as my mom."

You stared at him, hands gripping the door.

"Why didn't you just talk to me?"

"I… I know I should have."

"So why didn't you?"

"I had already made up my mind…"

And once Bradley Bradshaw made up his mind, that was that. Most of the time, anyway.

Silence enveloped the two of you once more. Birds chirped in the background, cars honking in the backed-up traffic on the interstate not too far from your home. Life was still going on, just like it always would. Life would continue to find a way, even if someone left it behind—even if someone felt as if their world was crashing to an end.

Three years ago, if Bradley Bradshaw had shown up at your door, telling you he had made a mistake, you would have believed him. But watching him as he stood at your door this very moment, you weren't sure. You had every right to slam the door in his face, burning the image of his scared self in the back of your mind. But as you stood here, hands dangling down by your thighs, you knew you couldn't.

Were you stupid for what you were about to do?

Maybe.

But so was Bradley.

"I've started seeing a therapist," Bradley spoke, breaking the silence. "He said it would be good for me to at least… try to tell you why."

"Why you left me?"

He gave a small nod. "Yes. And… he made me realize it never should have happened. It was my fault. It was never yours."

You rubbed your eyes out of frustration, unable to stop yourself from sniffling. A groan escaped you, and he frowned in response.

"Y/n, I… words can't even begin to describe how sorry I am. I can't take back what I said. I can't change the fact that I asked you for a divorce because I was terrified of dying and leaving you alone. But… but I can do this," he said, licking his lips as he watched you.

You tilted your head in confusion, not sure where he was going with this.

Time moved slowly—just as slowly as it had when your world came to a startling halt.

He suddenly held out his hand, locking eyes with you once more. Dark brown eyes peered into yours; those same brown eyes you used to watch until you fell asleep in his arms. Those same brown eyes you stared into when you first said, “I do.” Those same brown eyes you looked into when he asked you for a divorce.

"Hi," the man said, a small smile appearing on his mustache-clad lips. "I'm Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw."

Your eyes widened, your heart leaping to your chest once more, but not because you were scared to face him. But because you couldn't believe this was really happening.

He… was starting over.

You were starting over.

Hesitantly, you took his hand, firmly grasping it before you shook it.

"It's so nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw," you said. Your eyes were still red from your tears, but you began to smile, pushing down the pain and regret of the last three years. It wasn’t worth it. The utter buffoon standing in front of you was worth it. "I'm Y/n Bradshaw," you continued with a grin. "Quite a coincidence, huh?"

Bradley just smiled, tilting his head to the side. You had never changed your name. In fact, you stayed the same, despite the icy shield around your heart. Not that he could blame you.

You were his Y/n. The love of his life—the reason he continued on, and the reason he believed in love, despite the fear that sucked the rational thinking out of him.

Because even when death knocked at his door, he knew you would be there. You would be there, just like his mom was for his dad.

Nothing could change that.

Not the divorce, not his lie that lasted for years. Not the untimely “confession” that left the two of you reeling for each other.

Nothing could change how he felt for you.

And with one instant, you knew your world was mending itself. You'd have problems—that you were sure. You’d have to work on communication; on both sides. But as you moved out of the way for Rooster to come in, you knew it would be worth it.

Love, no matter how much it hurt, was worth it.

Good enough or not.

"Why don't you come in, Mr. Bradshaw? I think we have a lot to catch up on."

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, taking ahold of your hand.

"Only if you'll have me."

"Of course, I will."

This was a start. A new start.

A good start.

You were both starting over. And although you wouldn’t ever say it out loud, a part of you was starting to realize that you may have always been good enough—sometimes, fear was stronger than anyone’s resolve. Fear could make even the bravest people pause; it could cause stupid decisions and brash opinions that change everything a person knows. Minds were a powerful tool that could hurt everyone in its path.

You lived it.

You were still living it.

But like any great thing, sometimes starting over is the best way to go. Sometimes, opening your heart back up is the only thing you can do to move on.

Those same brown eyes you fell in love with peered down at yours, and for once in the past three years, you finally felt at peace. You were good enough. You always had been.

And Bradley Bradshaw was a good man. A great man, even. But even great men can fall short. Even great men can make mistakes. It takes an even greater person to face those mistakes head-on, and an equally great person to forgive and continue on loving, even if they never stopped, to begin with.

[thoseyoulove]

Reacting to The Vampire Lestat - Part V (with a bit of spoilers and maybe important quotes?)

Armand!

YAY!

Okay, what the hell is happening?

??????

Seriously, WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?

Am I lost because I'm reading the Brazilian Portuguese version and maybe it's not properly translated?

*Downloads an English PDF copy* Yeah, this isn't much better and it looks like it was poorly transcript.

I'm still not sure I'm following...

Well

Whatever

I still like this anyway?

Also, I can see I'll have to read at least this book twice anyway. Maybe more or even the whole chronicles.

Because since Armand showed up I'm DEVOURING this and I can see myself maybe missing a few details... I'll need to read it slower and savor it in the future. I also assume that knowing more of the lore will give me perspective on a future read.

Armand is never boring.

Still my favorite character. :) Let's hope nothing ever ruins that. :) /hj

Not one Lesmand/Armandstat interaction is wasted tbh, I don't care if they're vibing or hating each other's guts, they're always A MOMENT™.

Let's hope nothing ever ruins that. :) /hj

They also have some pretty valid and intriguing conversations, really.

The impression I get is that they want to stay close, but deep down know it's better not to because they're so messed-up and would be even more messed-up as friends or else (and maybe it's the or at least one of the reasons why they attract each other?), but there's some frustration in that acknowledgement too. Like, doing something because you should is not the same as doing it because you want to and... Well.

I mean, there's more I could say, but this is the short version of how I generally feel about them lol.

Can't wait to see all of this on season 3.

Assad is right, I want Armand to be unhinged too. So glad we're on the same page about all thigs Armand ever and that the spirit of Armand posses Assad on a daily basis so he can play him 100% the way I imagine him. SMILING THROUGH IT ALL, CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS MY LIFE RN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm also ready for more Lestat (Armand's version) and finally some Armand (Lestat's version). Let the battle begin. I wonder who will be more insufferable.

Little bit of Armand's back story. :/ I wanna put him in a bubble.

I don't really think I'll be interested in Marius, tbh.

Anyway... He's not here yet.

Gabrielle jumps from roofs like Cat Woman and Armand quickly and silently vanishes from places like Batman. I hope we keep the Gotham-esque vibes of these scenes. I think it's super cool tbh.

I also love seeing Armand talking to people telepathically? Feels so much deeper and kind of poetic, idk. Not to mention is such a cool concept. I hope the show explores more of that.

Also, when he stops blocking his thoughts and let's someone peek at his thoughts it feels intimate? And not necessarily romantic or anything like that, but just like, "hey, this is a little piece of my soul, I'm sharing it with you". Or maybe I'm too romantic and trying to find the beauty in everything lol.

But then he finally speaks out loud and it feels deeper and more meaningful as well? I don't know. Maybe I'm becoming insane.

Lestat went like 3 pages without mentioning Armand's beauty. I'm proud of him.

Nevermind, now he is mentioning it 50 times per sentence. Even more than he did before. It's like he regretted it and it's making up for lost time lmao.

Some of the words Lestat has used to describe Armand so far: beautiful, sublime, ethereal, exquisite, perfect, soft, saint, angel (there's more, but it's been so many synonyms for beautiful I can't remember... still, you get the point). Not to mention comparing him to a Caravaggio and Da Vinci paintings.

I feel like he'll run out of words to describe him pretty soon.

I guess we all feel pretty (not) normal about Armand.

This is also ruining it for me, because if someone doesn't describe me as "irresistibly beautiful" then what is even the point, really...

And it's not like they're a couple or anything, SO??? STOP!!!

They're not lovers, they're not friends, they're not enemies, they're a fourth and more sinister thing that not even them can classify, let alone my mere mortal self.

Anyway, I hope Lestat will be even more annoying describing Louis. He set the bar too high now.

I wonder if Louis appears (for a significant amount of time) on this book.

I hope so, but I don't know.

"But I was so glad it was finished. So glad that we could go on. Yet I held to the bars for a long time just looking at the distant woods, and the dim glow far beyond that the city made upon the lowering clouds. And the grief I felt was not only for the loss of him, it was for Nicki, and for Paris, and for myself." This is sad...

"So let him be your patron saint if you need it" LMFAOOOOOO.

Is Gabrielle wrong, though?

NO, SHE ISN'T!

Just have fun with your immortality instead of going on an uncertain quest to find Marius? Stop being stupid???

You'll probably just find danger or disappointment. Or both.

LISTEN TO THE VOICE OF REASON, LESTAT!

"And the sense of grief came back to me, the realization that we were really going, that it was finished with Nicolas and finished with the Children of Darkness and their leader, and I wouldn't see Paris again, or anything familiar to me, for years and years. And for all my desire to be free, I wanted to weep." So, he finally starts making a life for himself away from his abusive family. Then, he is forcefully turned into a vampire, has to live this double life with mortals, without ever being able to be completely open, honest and have real, deep relationships with them. Later, he turns Gabrielle, Nicki, meets Armand and the other of his kind, but they're all so troubled or with completely different interests... And it's clear as a day that they can't stay together anymore, he's slowly coming to the realization he's losing everything and everyone he knows and will soon be alone again... I'm (not) fine.

Also, this is so BPD-coded of him. He's had these pretty sad and traumatic moments, but he never allowed himself to feel those emotions for too long, he always found stuff to distract himself with, tried to see the "the good side" of things, embrace them, be positive instead etc, but you can only ignore it so much until it becomes such a big problem you can't possibly avoid anymore. And then the emotion hits 9483958345x harder than it would have if you processed things properly and had better coping mechanisms. Like, I get him, but OMG. Get him some vampire therapist.

Btw, Armand feels pretty BPD-coded too.

I also heard somewhere that Armand is a Scorpio?

And Lestat is another BPD Scorpio...

That would explain A LOT actually lmao.

End of "The Vampire Armand" chapter and they're parting ways.

So I guess I'll just rot and die, then?

Or...

...Armand will return in the worst possible way lmao.

I tried to find a gif of 2x05 saying "everything is fine!" to represent how I'm feeling right now, but failed, so consider it done anyway. Everything is (not) fine!

[crguang]

There was nobody I saw on the same level as Kafka...until Feixiao came (no pun intended xD).

Well, there was Himeko, Yukong, Natasha, Jingliu, ykwim, but like nobody really gripped me like kafka did until feixiao T-T

that line of hers (calling herself a lacking general cause she's lacking in worries, regrets, and rivals) is simply so cool to me lmao

YESS feixiao is just so Cool ™ like every time she was on screen i couldnt help but smile so big… in certain moments when her voice lowers and she gets serious woahhh, so hot. i love that the title she humbly came up with isnt humble at all, she doesnt want ppl to praise her senselessly but she cant deny that shes the strongest😭 my gojo satoru… (without the cockiness, its more earnest excitement) she really shot up my fav characters list i admire her a lot

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

never watched iasip but i need convincing to watch it. sell it for me.

(I hope doing that is a big enough of a distraction)

this is a great distraction thank you!!! I have many talking points so Buckle Up.

(TL;DR: watch sunny, you won’t regret it! it’s super funny and has tons of amazing elements. 10/10 recommend)

1. GAY PEOPLE

since you are a community fan on tumblr I’m assuming you like trobed. that’s just math. so! I will introduce you to The Sunny Ship™: mac and dennis

I legitimately think they will become canon, and soon. (you might not know that sunny is Not over yet, they are still making seasons. there are 16 seasons right now (169 episodes) and I believe they’re renewed for at least 2 more seasons which is awesome.) anyway, as much as I love trobed, I do not think they will be confirmed romantically in the canon. I’m not sure I trust that to be written correctly anyway. (but that’s another conversation) the point is I Genuinely Believe that this one will happen. if you want more reasons I’m glad to provide but it would include some spoilers, and I’m not sure how okay you are with that, so I’m omitting my full reasoning. you just gotta trust me on this one lmao

besides that they’re just really entertaining to watch and their dynamic is genuinely so important to me. it is very different from trobed but it makes me equally feral 👍🏻

here’s some gifs and pictures to kind of introduce you to wtf I’m talking about. (keep in mind they are pathetic men that are like 26 in season 1 and like 46 in season 16)

2. characterization

even if that’s not your vibe there’s a ton else this show has to offer. just thought I’d start off with the gay people bc what is a sitcom without 2 codependent men?

sunny genuinely has great character work. even though the entire premise of the show is that the main characters are Terrible People (one of the original working titles for the show was literally just “Jerks”) they are genuinely great characters. the classic sitcom “funny on the outside but dig a little deeper and you uncover hella trauma and depth” which is awesome I love a sitcom that does that. all of the individual and group dynamics are amazing. obviously mac & dennis tend to stand out but all 5 members of the gang have very individualized relationships with each other, and their dynamic as a whole is so funny. they’re all generally horrible to each other but they really do mean the world to each other. it’s very “found family but they’re all literally the worst people you’ve ever met.” they cannot sustain relationships with anyone outside their own little group and I think that’s beautiful (it wouldn’t be, irl, obviously, but in a tv show it is so funny and awesome)

3. continuity

this one’s pretty short, but the continuity in this show is so awesome, which is pretty important to me. throughout all 16 seasons (and 18 years!) I can only think of a couple logistical continuity mistakes. other than that, the story stays straight, all their past anecdotes line up, and they reference the old episodes all the time. I love community but, in the continuity category, sunny reigns superior

4. RCG

the guys themselves!!! RCG (rob mcelhenney, charlie day, and glenn howerton) are the team that created sunny. they created the premise, adapted it for network tv, literally play the three main guys (mac mcdonald, charlie kelly, and dennis reynolds respectively), are VERY involved in the writing, editing, directing, etc of the show, and are constantly promoting it. they embody this show and they genuinely have So Much love for it.

they’ve been best friends for decades, and their bond really takes the show to the next level. all the dialogue is really natural, they have so much control over the show (as I said, being at least involved in, and oftentimes in charge of, the writing, directing, and editing), and you really can tell that they put their entire souls into making this show.

and they’re still making it, they’re still best friends, rob met his wife (kaitlin olsen, the woman who plays dee) through the show, their family members constantly make cameos, they take experiences from their actual lives and dramatize them for arcs in the show, they literally started a whole podcast where they talk about the show (and other things too), and… ugh. this show is so solidly theirs, and you can just really feel how real and raw it is. super un-commercialized, especially in the earlier seasons. it’s such a special vibe that a lot of tv shows just don’t have, and it’s super unique and cool and ugh. I love it. I love them

(they also hired megan ganz, who wrote for community, writes for and helped create mythic quest, along with a bunch of other stuff, during season 12. and she’s awesome. she is also on the sunny podcast with the three of them)

(oh yeah. idk if you’ve seen mythic quest, but rob mcelhenney plays ian grimm on that show, and also is one of the creators. charlie day also helped create mythic quest, but he hasn’t really been involved in it other than that.)

5. danny devito

self-explanatory. danny devito is on the show (starting s2ep1). what else do you need.

6. comedy gold

this might go without saying, as it is a sitcom, but this show is SO funny. all of the actors are so talented, the jokes are so well written, the deliveries are golden, the physical comedy is great, and so much more. I’m going to put some screencaps of popular memes you might have seen around that originated from this show to give you some idea of its comedic impact

there’s obviously hundreds of other amazing lines but I can’t very well list Everything right here right now, but. the point is there’s a lot of really good stuff.

7. neurodivergent-coded

another sitcom staple! except this one is pretty special, in that RCG are all neurodivergent. we don’t know rob and charlie’s specific diagnoses, but we know that glenn has adhd (recently diagnosed), and has talked about mania and depression before. rob recently said he has “been diagnosed with multiple neurodevelopmental disorders” but hasn’t clarified yet. charlie has just casually mentioned being neurodivergent. but, anyway. I’m not sure their projected neurodivergence onto the show is noticable to the untrained (neurotypical) eye, but as an autistic person I can definitely see it lmao. also, a lot of the fans agree that dennis and charlie are both on the spectrum, with a lot of other fans headcannoning the entire gang as autistic, which is awesome. dennis has also canonically been diagnosed with BPD.

if you’re interested, here’s a silly youtube video with a bunch of autistic coded moments from the show lmao. it’s kind of long but it’s very entertaining to me

final thoughts & disclaimers

but yeah! hope you enjoyed this unnecessarily long post. I did want to say a couple more things real quick:

1. if you want to give the show a shot without fully committing, I suggest you start with season 5. this is a rob mcelhenney-approved gateway, it’s a really great season, s5ep1 is a great episode to start off with, and it works relatively well out of context.

2. season 1 is my second to least favorite season. it is only 7 episodes long, but just keep that in mind. it’s general regarded as one of the worse seasons. if you want to start with season 1 that’s fine, it’s still good and I do genuinely enjoy it, but just keep that in mind. it only gets better

3. this is a very explicit show! it is rated tv-ma and is significantly more risque than community. there are also a lot of really offensive jokes (s3ep9 is basically unwatchable for me) but this goes along with the premise that the characters are genuinely bad people. the comedy theoretically comes from the ridiculousness of how out of touch the characters are, and I think it really does land about 95% of the time. some of the topics they joke about probably could have been approached with a bit more grace than RCG granted them, (there are five episodes that were removed from hulu because of use of blackface. yikes) but the show is meant to be blunt, extremely unserious, and somewhat cynical. it gets better with this stuff as it goes on, and it did start in 2005, so yeah. there’s just some stuff you have to take with a grain of salt I guess. RCG have grown a lot since 2005.

anyway! I genuiely love this show more and more each time I watch it. it just gets funnier and funnier, and listening to the sunny podcast, and watching the special features on the dvds my dad got me for my birthday (lmao), has just been so much fun. a ton of fuel for a great hyperfixation.

if you have any other questions let me know! I’m always down to talk, my dms are open etc etc. sorry for the literal essay but this has been a great distraction from the end-of-semester Bad Feelings, so thank you!

if you do end up watching let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do, if you decide to watch. have a great one and thanks for reading 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

[inkdemonapologist]

A buncha scribbles from session 15 of the BatIM Cthulhu game! including:

Prophet swapped Sammy in for a brief moment of awareness before the final ritual to release the muses, in which he was relieved to see Susie okay and Susie was glad to see him... back to normal! Oh geez. Sammy doesn't actually know what Prophet's interactions with Susie were, but he's sure he probably regrets them

Susie hummed a little bit of a new version of one of the Bendy songs Sammy had been working on and oH YEAH THATS RIGHT SHE'S STILL KIND OF POSSESSED,

Back when the Coney Island ride they were underneath was flooding, I specified that Prophet was going to climb up the stairs "on all fours" to minimise chances of slipping and falling and I just wanted to try to draw this lmao. i forgot he was wearing a vest here

with Joey exhausted, Allison was the only one who could conduct the final ritual, and Sammy ended up calling out Prophet to keep an eye on her. i was just way too amused by the idea of sammy just TAKING A SWIG OF INK WITHOUT BREAKING EYE CONTACT TO DO THIS

also in addition to me drawing just so many scribbles of sammy lawrence i DO have some out-of-context quotes for you!!

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[GM] It kind of jolts, and turns – assumedly – towards you, [Sammy] *laughs* YOU CAN’T TELL which direction it’s looking in, just, IT HAS MOVED

[GM] And some tentacles are gonna come at you guys! Like they do. [Jack] #JustTentacleThings

[Joey] This IS Joey’s arm, which means if it does get destroyed by the circle, Joey’s going to be missing an arm…! [Jack] I can fix it, it’s fine, [GM] It’s fine! Yeah! [Sammy] How many limbs would you like to be made of ink, Joey Drew?! [Joey] I dunno if he’s gonna have a CHOICE! [Sammy] You’re going to have fewer working limbs than Moonlight.

[Sammy] These guys might all be those goop people, who are harder to fight than humans – [Henry] I don’t think Henry’s thinking about that. I think Henry just heard Bendy and Joey scream and is in Go Mode. [Sammy] Well-- [Henry] I mean, it’s a smart thought! I don’t think Henry’s having it right now.

[Sammy] Leon, if you want to surprise us all and do something really heroic, PLEASE go for it [Jack] I thought you were going to say “please DON’T” [GM] “Don’t be a hero!!” [Sammy] No no, I think it’s fine, if he wants to be a hero, I think he should do it. [Joey] I mean, if he wants to grab Colette and RUN, that would be great, [Sammy] Yeah, nobody can DRAIN INK out of HIM! [Jack] Unless we’re about to learn something,

[Sammy] No, wait, that was Colette’s parents. I can keep all my minor NPCs straight! [Jack] Straight? In this campaign?! [Sammy] *startled laugh* [GM] Tell me about it…! [Sammy] We can’t keep ANY of our NPCs straight! We’re fundamentally terrible at it.

[Jack] I’m imagining it like, you know when you try to use an item in the wrong place in pokemon? [Joey] THE MASKED MESSENGER SAYS: IT ISN’T THE TIME TO USE THAT!

[Joey] Hold on. I was going between two normal ideas, and then I had a really weird one, so I need to check something. [GM] Joey? Making bad decisions in the finale of a scenario? What a thought! [Joey] hIS SANITY IS NINETEEN, SO!!!!

[Joey] Okay. I have an idea. >:3 [Sammy] Oh NO. [Henry] Oh no. Have you got a Joey Plan™? [Joey] *cackling* [Sammy] *muttering under breath* We really should’ve just… waited for Henry…

[Joey] Joey is going to realise the ink is being siphoned from them for use in whatever this guy is trying to do, and he’s not pleased about that, [Sammy] Yeah, neither am I. So far we’re on the same page – [Joey] It’s HIS ink–! [Sammy] It, it’s not – okay. [Joey] So, remember when Joey was visited by the Masked Messenger, and they had the little battle over ink possession? Joey is going to take over the Ink in the circle -- [Sammy] OKAY! This SURE is a Joey Drew™ Plan, [Joey] -- and reclaim it for himself, and take over the magic! [Sammy] Well, the LAST time we had a circle dedicated to doing something with the Yellow King, and Joey switched it to be himself instead, that went SO well, why WOULDN’T you do the same thing again!! [Joey] Listen, he has 19 sanity, I don’t know what you’re expecting from him. *rolls* …….He has 18 sanity, I don’t know what you’re expecting from him!

[Henry] Henry is going to shove the blade of his axe against this guy’s throat and tell him if he does anything fishy, he’ll kill him. [Joey] (This includes turning into a fish.) [Joey] (No more tentacle monsters, no more fish monsters, none of that!)

[Henry] 32, which is a hard success. [Sammy] …What’s your intimidate skill?!? [GM] Oh, y’know, :) [Henry] 85. [Sammy] *nervous laughter???* [Jack] Normal amount. [Henry] Normal amount! [Sammy] YEAH, the same number as Sammy’s musical skill??? OKAY COOL!!!

[Sammy] Does Sammy look like his mascara is running? I just want to know.

[Joey] Can I… *quietly* ...grab Colette and toss her out of the circle? [Sammy] … YEET HER? [Joey] yEAH,,, [Henry] Can’t be more damage than falling over a fence. *everyone giggles except for Sammy* [Sammy] …Okay.

[Sammy] I can’t believe Joey is stealing Prophet’s nemesis. Rude. [GM] I mean, Joey DID stab Moonlight. They can share! [Joey] …I don’t know if they can share. They’ve been doing very bad at sharing.

[Jack] Also she’s not an ink creature, so, big win for you, Leon!

[Sammy] It grabbed me in the leg, right? [GM] Yeah! This is the cool leg scar. [GM] Not to be confused with the not-cool leg scar, [Jack] He’s just never going to live that down, huh. [Sammy] He COULD, if everyone would stop bringing it up! [GM] Sammy wakes up and hopes dearly that Prophet tripped over a fence so at least it’s both of them, but no…

[Joey] So – hold on, let me see if a thing existed back then. [GM] Oh boy…? [Joey] 18th century. Great! Okay, so I’m going to drain the rest of my magic points, to do a new toon action – you know those, circular saw blades? [GM] BUZZSAWS???

[Henry] Henry’s gonna do something suuuuuper risky,,, [Henry] He’s going to drop the axe and summon the scythe. [Sammy] ….OKAY, [Joey] Okay…! I’m very curious what’s going to happen if Henry uses the scythe on the mirror. [Henry] Oh, I wasn’t thinking that. [Sammy] UM, [GM] This is fine, this is great! [Sammy] Nervous chuckle, I’m in danger, [Henry] Henry is going to say “Sammy, duck!” and, swing the scythe [Sammy] OH, OKAY, I WILL DO THAT, [GM] Make a dodge roll! [Sammy] OhhhHHH THAT’S NOT GOOD… THAT’S NICE, BUT IT’S NOT GOOD,,,, My dodge is 55 and I rolled a 69, [Joey] Nice [GM] Nice! [Henry] And since it’s in close quarters, I’m guessing it’ll go through both of them. [GM] Yeah! Roll damage! [Sammy] CAN I,,,, PUSH THAT ROLL MAYBE,,, [GM] [GM] No. :) [Henry] *cackles*

[Jack] THAT’S trauma for future Sammy!!

[Jack] He’s gonna see if Sammy’s okay! See what’s going on. [Sammy] Sammy still looks pretty shaken up, and will tell him, “Stay back my sheep – I will join you soon.” [Henry] “I’m not going to hurt him!” [Sammy] jUST GIVES HENRY A LOOK,

[Sammy] So that’s seven damage! [GM] Okay! You see that the shadowy figure on the other side is ALSO trying to hit the mirror. [Sammy] Huh. Can I tell anything about the shadowy figure, now that I’m right up next to the mirror? [GM] Yeah! :) Uh, looks kinda familiar. It’s maybe somebody you’ve seen before. [Jack] yEAH I thought it might be,,, [Sammy] …wait, what? [GM] Maybe somebody… last scenario… [Jack] Who’s in Carcosa… and wants to break the mirror… [GM] Yeah, someone like that maybe! [Sammy] ………….. Is it… is it Moonlight…? [GM] Yeah! Yeah it is! ...Anyway, the mirror breaks. :)

*successful dexterity check to avoid getting knocked over* [GM] Okay, you keep your feet! [Sammy] Thanks, I like my feet.

[Joey] Joey is going to start scanning for his people, who LEFT HIM while he was being thrown around by tentacles, [Sammy] You were a great distraction, thank you. [Jack] You’ve gotta keep a better eye on your people, one of them just stabbed another! [Joey] EVERYONE ABANDONED ME! [Sammy] I TOLD YOU WHAT I WAS DOING! [Joey] Oh, yeah, no, Prophet gets a pass. Everyone else ran off, and – [Henry] YOU LEFT HENRY! [Joey] ….eh, ‘strue. [Joey] …Left Henry with others! [GM] Bendy’s still there! [Joey] Yeah. Bendy’s got me. [Sammy] Joey, any time he’s trying to leave by himself: “No, I’m never alone, I’m with Bendy!” Joey, as soon as we figure he’s fine, because he’s with Bendy: “HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME ALL ALONE?!” [Jack] Betrayed, Abandoned,

[Joey] And the water is coming in fast, [Henry] These people are going to have SUCH a mold problem when we’re done…

[Joey] Does Bendy have any magic points…? [Sammy] “I spent all of mine turning my arms into buzzsaws!” [Jack] As you do!

[Sammy] Poor Leon. I’m so sorry. You’re going to have to go straight into an asylum.

[GM] You’re pretty sure you’re not in Carcosa. [Jack] Okay, good. I needed to know if Jack would be panicking about things… [GM] He’s got plenty to panic about, but that one is currently good!

[GM] I wonder if Sammy… from Sammy’s point of view, Jack was driving when he lost consciousness, and then he’s still driving when he comes back! Like… he doesn’t even know they went to Coney Island, I don’t think? [Sammy] No, I guess not! Joey was just like “I know where they’re taking Colette” [Sammy] And now we’re going back to the Studio so it’s like, I guess we got Colette! And got wet, for some reason! [Jack] At least he didn’t end up seeing The Great Bertrum Piedmont. [Sammy] There are SO many things it’s good that he didn’t end up seeing.

[GM] Bendy is going to chime in that it was busy, but they went to an amusement park! [Joey] Joey’s going to correct him that they did NOT go to an amusement park. That was not what that is. [GM, as Bendy] “That’s what you said it was last time we went!” [Joey] “Was it like last time we went?!” [GM] He’ll think about that, go quiet for a minute, and then be like, “No, I guess not, huh!” [Joey] “EXACTLY.” [GM, as Bendy] “Yeah, he’s right, we didn’t!” [Sammy] Hm. Hmmmm. Sammy’s squinting at you both.

[Sammy] He might still cough up blood, just not embarrassingly so. Just, in a cool way!

[Henry] Henry will… “pull” is too strong of a word? But Henry will… physically encourage Joey to step back from the circle.

[Sammy] Ehhhhh, I don’t have a lot of hitpoints… [Joey] Who needs hitpoints? [Sammy] I do, I need them!!

[GM] *rolls* …hm. *mumbling to self* What do I do with that…? [Sammy] Troubling reaction! [GM] ….huh…. [Joey] Not getting less troubling!

[Henry] I don’t want to keep using the scythe spell, but it keeps presenting itself as the best option! [Joey] DO YOU HAVE, ANY OTHER OPTIONS,, FIRST???? [Henry] These things have a bajillion HP! [Sammy] I mean, you COULD do the scythe thing, but maybe don’t hit anybody else with it! [Jack] I think you should hit Sammy with it again. [Sammy] NO I DON’T THINK YOU SHOULD

[Henry] Well, my strength is higher… oh no, it’s not, I’ve been doing too much mAGIC, [Sammy] That’s what happens when you do the scythe spell constantly!!! [Henry] Uggghhhhhhh... [Sammy] “Been doing too much scythe spell, better do some more scythe spell!”

[Joey] Do we have any bonus dice left? [Sammy] *sarcastically* Well! If we end up at the hotel, I DID scout it out ahead of time!

[GM] And Joey is feeling all the way better, except for all the ways that he is not!

[Henry] I just want to say, I did not expect Weird Henry to go on for FOUR SESSIONS. [Sammy] He went out with a bang, too, sliced a scythe RIGHT THROUGH THE PROPHET, [Henry] Yeah, everything has been working out so great!

[occasionally-victor]

q!Guapduo/q!Spiderbit :D

easily The Couple™ for me lmao, you could notice it by seeing that like most of my qsmp fanart so far was spiderbit (and i WILL draw more, this is a threat)

they have all the tropes i like, and i also like the characters separately as well sooooo

i remember watching Base Guapita vod while doing my math exam preparations and thinking "surely i won't get obsessed over them a month before my exam" WELL IT WAS A SLOWER PROCESS FOR ME AND I GOT FULL ON OBSESSED A WEEK BEFORE MY EXAM RIGHT WHEN REGRET ARC STARTED I PLAYED MYSELF THERE never expected them to get fucking married, glad that happened

i miss them dearly and it IS affecting my care about any other qsmp couple haha

[starryevermore]

none of it was accidental ✧ cassian andor

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: cassian andor x fem!reader

summary: it was all by design, because you’re a mastermind.

word count: 1,406

warnings?: implied smut, fluff, kinda shitty but we’ll pretend it’s not lmao, not proofread

The first night he saw you, he knew nothing was going to stop you. The first time you walked into the room, he could tell you decided that he were going to be yours. He saw it in your eyes, the way you looked him up and down, a twinkle in your eyes. And, he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind, because it was you. There was a warmth to you, a sort of kindness, that he hadn’t experienced in so long. Cassian Andor had become accustomed to coldness and distance and being kept at arm’s length. It was the nature of his profession. One doesn’t become a spy for the Rebellion by cozying up to people. Though, he mused, it had worked well enough for you.

He remembered you tripping over your feet as you walked by the booth he was sat at. He remembered practically jumping out of his seat, reaching out, steadying you, stopping you from falling flat on your face. He remembered your quiet gasp at the feeling of his hands on your waist. (He remembered wanting you to make that sound again and again and again.) He remembered offering you a seat at his booth, the way you smiled appreciatively at him. 

“Do I get to know the name of the kind gentleman who’s helped me?” you asked as you settled in your seat, your eyes practically twinkling as you peered over at him. 

“I don’t know how much of a gentleman I am,” he said. That much was true. He had seen too many things, done too many things, to be called a gentleman. That part of him wanted to run the other way, if only to preserve you. You didn’t deserve to be tainted by him.

“Perhaps because you don’t see yourself the way others see you.”

“Perhaps because I know how others see me,” he said. 

“Let me convince you otherwise,” you practically purred, leaning in closer to him. 

He swallowed hard, realizing how close you were to him. He had been sitting alone in a booth before you came over, his arm slung over the back of it, his legs spread out, taking up more room than perhaps was necessary. He had resumed that position after he helped you, finding it more comfortable than any other way he could have sat. Now, you were mere inches away, practically tucked under his arm. You were close enough that he could smell the soap you used. He could smell how you were clean and fresh. Did you really want to be dirtied by him? 

“Cassian,” he said. Would he regret this? Perhaps. But, Maker, he wanted to feel something good for once. “My name is Cassian.”

“Well, Cassian, I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”

He wanted to laugh at the thought. Fun? During times like these? It seemed more like a far flung hope than anything that could become reality. But as he looked at you, he wanted to believe it. He wanted to have a life that was simple, carefree, fun. He wanted it all.

“Then lead the way.”

You became a near permanent fixture in his life after that. It wasn’t uncommon for you to appear when he was least expecting it, presenting him with a gift you’d found for him on a mission, or telling him a story about a mistake a rookie made, or struggling to tell a joke to him because you can’t stop giggling your way through it. It made him wonder where you had been before. It made him wonder what life had been like before you. 

Being around you was nice. Cassian was used to slipping into the background. He was used to going unnoticed. He used to prefer it. But then you came around. And you saw him. You heard him. You remembered him. When he mentioned that he was going on a mission with someone he hated, you always offered him something nice when he got back. When he could barely keep his eyes open but still needed to work, you would bring him caf with cream because you knew he couldn’t stand the bitter taste of the drink but still enjoyed the energy it would bring him. When the nights were quiet and he found himself in your bunk, desperately seeking comfort, you would let him lay on your chest, card your fingers through his hair, and let him talk about the life he used to have, the life he long since left behind. 

Now that you were a part of his life, Cassian wasn’t quite sure he could ever live without you. He didn’t want to. 

Sometimes, he wondered what he should call what he had with you. Was it a relationship? Were the two of you just friends? It certainly felt like something more. Should he ask you for clarification? Or should he let it be? Why kick a gift horse in the mouth, after all? 

The answer became clear, however, when after months of dancing through his feelings, the two of you were assigned to a mission together. As excited as Cassian was to have a reason to spend time with you, he nevertheless dreaded the mission. It was relatively simple. An Imperial ball was to be held. You would go in as the entertainment, he would go in as a member of the waitstaff. If you remained as the entertainment, it wouldn’t be so bad. But Cassian knew that you would have to sidle up to an Imperial officer, look at the bastard with the sweet eyes you reserved for him, so you could retrieve invaluable information. 

Worse, perhaps, was how much you seemed to be enjoying yourself. You giggled and laughed and smiled at the officer. You leaned into his side, ran your fingers along his jaw. You leaned in close, whispered into his ear. Worse, you climbed onto the officer’s lap, locking eyes with Cassian, It took everything in him not to blow his cover right then and there. 

That night, you didn’t leave his bunk as he told you over and over and over again that he was yours, that you were his.

In the morning, he woke before you. You had stolen the sheets in the middle of the night, leaving Cassian with only a corner of the blanket covering him below the waist. He didn’t mind. He would give anything for you. He shuffled closer to you, pulling your body against his. You let a contented noise, smiling in your sleep. Oh. He liked that. 

Cassian lifted his hand, caressing your face. He ran his thumb over the swell of your cheek. A rare smile, a smile that became more common in your presence, settled on his face. He liked how soft you were. He liked knowing that you trusted him with that softness. It made him feel like he was a good man.

As he admired you, you slowly opened your eyes, your smile growing as you realized he was still there. “Good morning, handsome,” you said, your voice thick with tiredness. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“Mhm,” you hummed. You nuzzled your face into the spot where his neck met his shoulder. His breath hitched at the feeling of your breath tickling him. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” he said without missing a beat. “You can tell me anything.”

“When we first met…none of it was accidental.” You lifted your head, watching closely for his reaction. “When I first saw you, I decided that nothing was going to stop me until you were mine. Everything from that point forward was a carefully laid plan.”

Cassian huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. A smirk settled on his face as he said, “You think I don’t know? You had my heart at the first step in your plan. Or, perhaps, at the first trip in your plan.”

“You knew? And…you didn’t mind?” you asked. 

“I’ve known this entire time you were a mastermind,” he confirmed. “And I love that most about you.”

A smile stretched across your face. “You know, I recall saying that you and I were going to have a lot of fun.”

“Oh? I think you should live up to that promise, don’t you?”

And, Maker, you did. Because you were a mastermind, and he was happily yours. 

[aintgonnatakethis]

bold what applies to your OC

Rules: As the title implies, bold/highlight which of the items applies to your OC!

Thank you to @fortunatetragedy for the tag! I don't have OCs so we're going with Everett Young and David Telford as their Vamp AU versions. Tagging: @bagheerita @annwayne @paeliae-occasionally @gioiaalbanoart Answers and template under the cut.

Killed Someone Under Orders | Had Someone Killed On Their Orders | Killed Someone In Self Defense | Spared Someone’s Life | Invented Something | Been Hungover | Kissed Someone | Slow-Danced | Been In A Long-Term Relationship | Had Sex | Had Sex And Regretted It (lol. lmao even) | Had A One-Night Stand | Had A Threesome | Experimented With Their Sexuality | Had A Kid | Adopted A Kid | Wanted To Have A Family With Someone | Done Something On Impulse They Regretted (it has been [0] days since a Bad Young Decision™) | Gone Traveling | Had A Bounty Put On Them | Eaten An Insect | Been Groped/SA'd | Been Dumped | Dumped Someone | Smoked | Gotten High | Put Someone In A Headlock | Won A Bet | Lost A Bet | Forgiven Someone Who Wronged Them | Indulged In Petty Revenge | Hallucinated | Gotten A Noticeable Scar | Kneed/Hit Someone In The Groin | Had An Unattainable Crush | Laughed Themselves To The Point Of Tears | Been Kidnapped | Been Brainwashed/Hypnotized | Had A Recurring Nightmare | Been Bullied  | Bullied Someone | Experienced Survivor’s Guilt | Been Tied/Chained Up | Given Someone A Massage | Received A Massage | Been Backed Up Against A Wall | Shot Someone | Stabbed Someone | Saved Someone’s Life | Cheated On Someone (the lottery machine just dinged 💀) | Been Cheated On | Been In An Open Relationship | Had A Friendship With Benefits | Been In A Queerplatonic Relationship | Had A Stalker | Been Betrayed | Been A Traitor | Been Possessed | Been In A Bar Fight | Been Thrown Out Of A Bar | Been Arrested | Broken Out Of Jail | Been To A Funeral | Been To A Brothel | Had Surgery | Broken Someone’s Trust | Broken Someone’s Heart | Had Their Heart Broken | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Anger | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Spite | Gotten A Piercing | Gotten A Tattoo | Used A Fake Name | Been Beaten Up | Been Tortured | Tortured Others | Been Abused | Been Blackmailed | Gotten Away With A Crime | Framed Someone Else For A Crime They Committed | Shared A Bed Platonically | Been In Love |  Suffered From Sleep Paralysis | Been Forced To Flee Their Home | Learned A New Language | Joined A Rebellion | Fought On The Losing Side Of A War | Fought On The Winning Side Of A War | Become A Godparent | Become An Aunt/Uncle

Killed Someone Under Orders | Had Someone Killed On Their Orders | Killed Someone In Self Defense | Spared Someone’s Life | Invented Something | Been Hungover | Kissed Someone | Slow-Danced | Been In A Long-Term Relationship | Had Sex | Had Sex And Regretted It | Had A One-Night Stand | Had A Threesome | Experimented With Their Sexuality | Had A Kid | Adopted A Kid | Wanted To Have A Family With Someone | Done Something On Impulse They Regretted | Gone Traveling | Had A Bounty Put On Them | Eaten An Insect | Been Groped/SA'd | Been Dumped | Dumped Someone | Smoked | Gotten High | Put Someone In A Headlock | Won A Bet | Lost A Bet | Forgiven Someone Who Wronged Them | Indulged In Petty Revenge | Hallucinated | Gotten A Noticeable Scar | Kneed/Hit Someone In The Groin | Had An Unattainable Crush | Laughed Themselves To The Point Of Tears | Been Kidnapped | Been Brainwashed/Hypnotized (😭😭😭) | Had A Recurring Nightmare | Been Bullied  | Bullied Someone | Experienced Survivor’s Guilt | Been Tied/Chained Up | Given Someone A Massage | Received A Massage | Been Backed Up Against A Wall | Shot Someone | Stabbed Someone | Saved Someone’s Life | Cheated On Someone | Been Cheated On | Been In An Open Relationship | Had A Friendship With Benefits | Been In A Queerplatonic Relationship | Had A Stalker | Been Betrayed | Been A Traitor | Been Possessed | Been In A Bar Fight | Been Thrown Out Of A Bar | Been Arrested | Broken Out Of Jail | Been To A Funeral | Been To A Brothel | Had Surgery | Broken Someone’s Trust | Broken Someone’s Heart | Had Their Heart Broken | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Anger | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Spite | Gotten A Piercing | Gotten A Tattoo | Used A Fake Name | Been Beaten Up | Been Tortured | Tortured Others | Been Abused | Been Blackmailed | Gotten Away With A Crime | Framed Someone Else For A Crime They Committed | Shared A Bed Platonically | Been In Love |  Suffered From Sleep Paralysis | Been Forced To Flee Their Home | Learned A New Language | Joined A Rebellion | Fought On The Losing Side Of A War | Fought On The Winning Side Of A War | Become A Godparent | Become An Aunt/Uncle

Killed Someone Under Orders | Had Someone Killed On Their Orders | Killed Someone In Self Defense | Spared Someone’s Life | Invented Something | Been Hungover | Kissed Someone | Slow-Danced | Been In A Long-Term Relationship | Had Sex | Had Sex And Regretted It | Had A One-Night Stand | Had A Threesome | Experimented With Their Sexuality | Had A Kid | Adopted A Kid | Wanted To Have A Family With Someone | Done Something On Impulse They Regretted | Gone Traveling | Had A Bounty Put On Them | Eaten An Insect | Been Groped/SA'd | Been Dumped | Dumped Someone | Smoked | Gotten High | Put Someone In A Headlock | Won A Bet | Lost A Bet | Forgiven Someone Who Wronged Them | Indulged In Petty Revenge | Hallucinated | Gotten A Noticeable Scar | Kneed/Hit Someone In The Groin | Had An Unattainable Crush | Laughed Themselves To The Point Of Tears | Been Kidnapped | Been Brainwashed/Hypnotized | Had A Recurring Nightmare | Been Bullied  | Bullied Someone | Experienced Survivor’s Guilt | Been Tied/Chained Up | Given Someone A Massage | Received A Massage | Been Backed Up Against A Wall | Shot Someone | Stabbed Someone | Saved Someone’s Life | Cheated On Someone | Been Cheated On | Been In An Open Relationship | Had A Friendship With Benefits | Been In A Queerplatonic Relationship | Had A Stalker | Been Betrayed | Been A Traitor | Been Possessed | Been In A Bar Fight | Been Thrown Out Of A Bar | Been Arrested | Broken Out Of Jail | Been To A Funeral | Been To A Brothel | Had Surgery | Broken Someone’s Trust | Broken Someone’s Heart | Had Their Heart Broken | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Anger | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Spite | Gotten A Piercing | Gotten A Tattoo | Used A Fake Name | Been Beaten Up | Been Tortured | Tortured Others | Been Abused | Been Blackmailed | Gotten Away With A Crime | Framed Someone Else For A Crime They Committed | Shared A Bed Platonically | Been In Love |  Suffered From Sleep Paralysis | Been Forced To Flee Their Home | Learned A New Language | Joined A Rebellion | Fought On The Losing Side Of A War | Fought On The Winning Side Of A War | Become A Godparent | Become An Aunt/Uncle

@moltenwrites

[musical-chick-13]

"Milestones" are bullshit, and anyone can have any reason for not following a "normal" life timeline, there are plenty of explanations for why that wouldn't happen, and they aren't some sort of moral judgment or sign that there's something fundamentally Wrong™ with any given person.

...Not me, though. I don't have a "good" reason and I belong in an eldritch cave away from society, and I am actually [insert negative adjective here].

[bury-me-in-potatoes]

BNHA 427

I liked this chapter. Izuku really is such a good kid, and poor Spinner has to deal with losing someone who both gave him a sense of purpose (?) and was his friend. I'm not too fussed now about Spinner calling him a murderer, even if my initial reaction was very surprised. To Spinner, who cared for Tomura, Izuku was directly involved in the events that caused Tomura's death.

I'm not super surprised that public opinion of Tomura is (understandably) very negative. Society doesn't know his full Tragic Backstory™—as far as I can tell, only Izuku knows the entire story. Besides, it's unrealistic for everyone to be completely sympathetic even if they do find out the truth, since Tomura did still murder a lot of people and cause widespread damage. He's not completely blameless, but the events that led up to him becoming a villain can still be acknowledged.

What I was surprised about was getting an update on Overhaul! Glad to see that he's still just as pathetic as before, and maybe even more so lmao. I'm also glad to see that his boss is rightfully calling him out on what he's done, and saying Overhaul should focus his regret on Eri. Not sure how the boss was able to recover, but I'm thinking Izuku might've fulfilled his promise and said something.

That last page really was something lmfao. I love it and I'm so glad it exists. We haven't seen gremlin Katsuki in a while, but Shouto kind of just seems accepting of his new situation??? Good luck to the two of them with dealing with their rabid fans now. I'm hoping Izuku also has some admirers, since I can't imagine any reason why he wouldn't. Wasn't his fight broadcast as well?

I'm not really sure what direction the next chapter's going to take, but I'm definitely not complaining if we stick with the class. Hopefully we get an update on Toga, but I'm not super optimistic. Fingers crossed though!

[kraro-school-life]

New exam fear unlocked - aka me ranting about todays polish exam (longer personal diary post, nothing interesting)

So tw for I guess food and feeling unwell (throwing up)? Just a heads up :)

Ok so writing this down here because typing is easier than writing by pen in my journal haha. I had my polish exam today, and I surprisingly woke up not feeling like shit! Well that changed after I ate a yoghurt and I started feeling reaaaally unwell, like had this feeling of having to throw up, but that was not that big of a deal, I go through that a lot. But it´s still shitty... Like I get it, my body is stressed, but it´s really just unfortunate. Waiting for the bus in my "I´m not getting overstimulated today!" exam fit™ (that goes extremely hard) I sat down on the ground to keep my head from spinning. But there was a small kid on a scooter that was the height of me sitting down who just came up to look at me and that was so ironic omg. I wish I would be that kid in that moment, like pls just let me ride a scooter in peace and don´t drag me through this hell - like??

So I arrived to take the exam, and at this point I was running on half a coca cola because I was so nauseus I couln´t eat anything else. We go in the hall - I sit down at my assigned table and just wait. We get the papers and I´m sitting there just like "fuck these next three hours", but proceed to start. When I tell you that my vision went black - would you believe me?? This feeling you get when you stand up too fast and it gets all black and ypour head hurts?? YEAH 😭😭 So the first 5 - 10 minutes I spend hoping this goes away (I really felt like I was going to faint at one moment) BECAUSE I COULDNT READ SHIT. So in an attempt at cooling down or shit I drank all my water I had with me. it eventually got better but I even now still have a slight headache. I went okay-ish (I should have memorized more stuff :/). But the text was about food so it just worsened the situation xd. It wasn´t that bad, just a slight oof

I got home EXHAUSTED and with a severe headache (reminder that I would never survive a zombie apocalypse if an exam is enough to almost kill me <3) so I kid you not I had to rest for 4 HOURS !!! Girl, I am not even joking I was in tough condition :) And now I should be doing math but I really can´t take it anymore :)

I keep telling myself that on friday everything will be over. And thank god because this week has been testing me and it´s monday. Nah but I will get through it - it´s not like I will fail anyway. It´s just an 8 instead of a 10 and it´s the first time I actively decide to not go 10/10 because this shit is just too much. And it is a weird feeling - I will regret it later, but I won´t TRULY regret it yk?

Anyway that was my diary entry cuz I´m too tired to write it per hand today. Here´s a cookie for anyone who read all of that lmao 🍪‧₊˚✩彡

[violetfoxsketches]

🧠 and 🌂 for Javier and 🎯 and 🎹 for Emmy? :D

Javier:

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

Lmao as terrible as this sounds... He's fun to pick on. Not in a "I like bullying him" kind of vibe, but more like "You are a shitty person who takes advantage of others and maybe you regret it now and you're trying to fix that now, but I'm not gonna feel bad when something bad happens to you. You are the true butt-monkey of this chronicle."

Javier is the character I tell my Storyteller to not regret putting in Situations™ because he could stand to build some character and have the opportunity to Do Better™.

At the same time, I recognize Javier is a product of his trauma, and I'm curious to see if he manages to break the cycle of abuse that was inflicted on him. Man needs therapy, but that's a little hard to come by when you're undead. All he really has to turn to are the vestiges of his Catholic faith from his living days and by extension, his Humanity.

Where's a vampire psychologist when you need one?

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

Javier is an Anti-Villain and tends to make the lives of those around him worse. Becoming prey to a vampire who turned him against his consent means he is Damned from the Start and ultimately it makes his story a Tragedy. Especially since he still naively holds onto the private hope that perhaps, if he prays enough, confesses enough, does something worthwhile... maybe God will keep save him from his hellbound fate.

But Javier isn't even sure if the Beast that that dug its claws into his cold, dead heart is a consequence of the vampiric curse that plagues him... or his own true, twisted self.

Emmy:

🎯 -What do they do best?

If you asked Emmy what he is best at he would tell you that's easy; its singing. Emmy has been obsessed with music from a young age but never properly nurtured to pursue that skill. However, he had grown into an angelic tenor nonetheless. And while often written off as 'stupid' or 'airheaded' because of his abysmal relationship with academia, Emmy has a staggeringly large catalogue of memorized lyrics, melodies, and harmonies. He can also harmonize with just about any tune he hears and is eager to start learning guitar.

Ask the right friends what he is best at, and they would mention his voice, yes, but they would also mention his sheer resolve and willingness to stand by his convictions, even in the most dire situations.

They'd also mention he's a hell of a driver, too.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Obviously, singing is a major part of Emmy's identity, so its no surprise that he is one to frequent open mics and karaoke bars. Not only does singing bring him joy, but he has an addictive personality and drowning in the attention he gets from being on stage is one of his favorite highs. He wishes one day to make a career out of his musical skill, but has no idea how to go about doing so. Doubly so now that he's stuck as an undead creature with a deadly allergy to sunlight.

In the same vein of his attention-seeking habits, Emmy loves to dance, both alone and with a partner. The bigger the audience, the better. He often tends to pair this with alcohol as a way of escapism and stress relief, and is a regular partyboy. He loves being the life of the party, despite the fact he himself is no longer alive.

A lesser-know hobby of Emmy's is his love of collecting plants and flowers of all kinds. But he does tend to gravitate towards plants native to the deserts of Arizona where he grew up. He has a healthy collection of potted plants that traveled with him in his car when he was alive, and he still adores them in unlife. Most are hardy succulents and an assortment of desert flowers, but he is always keen to grow red marigolds every summer, as they are his favorite flower. He even has a few paper red marigolds in a pot for the months where he cannot enjoy their blooms.