#they come back to life somehow and I don’t even care if it doesn’t logically make sense

[mischiefmanagers]

when the fic warnings are like *major character death* but then also *angst with a happy ending* sign me THE FUCK up

[wilwheaton]

Donald Trump threatens the entire existence of the American republic. He is able to do this because the Supreme Court he created is assisting him in doing so. It is a corrupt Court – on which more later. It overturned a central right for half of our population. It routinely mixes and matches rationales, jurisprudences, logics to arrive at the end point of transforming America into their extremist vision. We’ve heard that yesterday’s decision was a terrible decision, an extremist decision, that it changes the American experiment fundamentally. No disagreement with any of those points. Most importantly, in my mind, it’s a fake decision. Yes, it will now be controlling within the federal courts. But it doesn’t change the constitution any more than a foreign army occupying New England would make Massachusetts no longer part of the United States. That may seem like a jarring analogy. But it’s the only kind that allows us to properly view and react to this Supreme Court.

The rationale for the decision yesterday has literally no basis whatsoever in the US constitution.

Josh Marshall is correct, but I don’t think it matters. This corrupt, activist, fascist SCOTUS does not care. The majority has decided that the Constitution, 250 years of precedent, popular opinion, and the foundational ideas that have made America what it is since 1787 are what they say they are.

I live in a country of three hundred and forty million people.

In this country, six unelected christian nationalists, five of whom were placed on the court by presidents who lost the popular vote, who are opposed by SEVENTY PERCENT of the population, are making up laws out of whole cloth because their power is unchecked. A country that allows this to impose their regressive authoritarianism on that entire population is not a free country. It is not a Democracy.

America has not been attacked like this since 9/11. Six unelected people forcing their christian nationalist agenda on a population of three hundred and forty million is not a Democracy. It is tyranny.

Everyone is missing the central message of yesterday’s ruling: SCOTUS is going to install Trump as dictator for life, by any means necessary. Somehow, after he loses the popular vote again, and after he’s even lost the Electoral College again, these six Fascists will invent a reason to overturn the will of the electorate, again. Every single one of their rulings this term have been part of their coup. Now, just line them all up and connect the dots.

We are four months away from the likely end of what passes for freedom in America, and once it’s gone, it’s not coming back in my lifetime.

[rottenomelet]

yandere jjk thoughts

warning:: nsfw! i’m eighteen and you should be too! hints of kidnapping, non-con, and coercion. nothing is ever really explicitly stated but - still.

a/n: there’s no real rhyme or reason behind this - winter is just my favorite time to snuggle up and read about crazy ppl. also i wrote this in lowercase originally so u see a spot i missed, no u didnt. u can leave requests for different characters if u wanna

Gojo Satoru

In no world could I ever imagine Gojo Satoru treating you like a real human being.

He is the strongest. There is no one who could destroy him. He can see all. And the issue isn’t just that he’s the best, it’s that he’s been told that since the day he opened his bright eyes. He has a big ego and it’s justified because there is no one better than him.

And sure he’ll indulge you. He'll laugh at your jokes and console you when you cry. But in the back of his mind, in every kiss to your forehead, in every smile, there will always be a domineering aspect. Because he knows that you are insignificant in the grand scheme of the world. you are only important because he deemed you worth something.

You’re not quite a toy or a pet to him. You’re more like - an indoor plant to him. Something that needs nurturing from his caring hands, watering and sunlight granted to you by him. You adapt and grow according to his needs and his conditions. But at the same time, you are to be cherished. never handled too roughly, case you begin to wilt. You don’t have to do much but sit and be nurtured and be pretty while he gives you whatever he deems necessary for your survival.

It fascinates him, really, how simple your little life is. How much you don’t know and never will know because as a flower, all you need to understand is that water and sunlight and love are given to you before you’ll even realize that you need it.

But you still have a job to be pretty and sometimes that’s sitting on the bed, still, as he observes you or bouncing on his cock. It just depends on the day.

Geto Suguru

Suguru is a calm man, a quiet man. He makes decisions based on logic. He is not exactly one for emotional outbursts, and even at his angriest, he rarely raises his voice.

But you.

A little non-sorcerer that can’t even see curses somehow made him look twice. Little unimportant you constantly runs through his mind. What you’re doing, what you’ve eaten, what places you’ve gone to. Who you’ve talked to, who your friends are. Your hobbies, your interests. Your lips and your eyes and that special something between your legs.

Just thinking about you, even innocently, makes him harden. It’s uncomfortable, it’s infuriating, it’s maddening.

He thought, surely someone in your family was a sorcerer, a powerful one at that. But no, your family is normal. You are, genetically, as average as they come.

He doesn’t treat you softly at first, doesn’t have a mind to. You’re a filthy little nothing, after all. When he fucks, he fucks without care. Suguru treats you like a doll, not made of porcelain but made of cloth, one he can throw around and still be in decent condition. He keeps a hand pressed to your mouth, to keep your voice down. A blindfold around your eyes so he doesn’t have to look into them. Your hands are bound behind your back so you don't touch him even by accident. Flat on your stomach, unable to see or feel or say anything is how you find yourself every time. He doesn’t even come inside of you, the only thing you’re grateful for.

It’s scary, how roughly he treats you. But it’s downright terrifying when he begins to lay softer hands upon you, begins to kiss instead of bite, caress instead of pinch.

Nanami Kento

He is a very traditional and stern man.

You are, silly, to him. stumbling and bumping and in general, unsure of yourself and what to do. But he sees potential. Even when you’ve tripped over thin air or broken something by accident, there’s a certain grace to your movements. A grace he wants to harvest and invest in.

And while he wants to give you direction, he also doesn’t have the patience or time to teach you like he wants. So, it’s best to ‘learn on the job’ when it comes to Kento.

Learn how to cook his favorite meals and bake the sweets he loves just right. When he’s okay with speaking and when he needs quiet. Remembering to kiss him goodbye every morning and remove his coat for him every night.

Learn how to suck his cock right - which vein is most sensitive, when to suckle and gag and slurp, what noises to make, and remember to always always swallow. He hates messes after all.

Learn his favorite positions. The lingerie sets he like best. How loudly he wants you to be. Accept his cum in your tummy with a smile.

It’s not hard - please him and you will be rewarded. Rewarded with pleasure, with time outside, with gentle hands.

And if you stumble or forget, he will easily remind you of your job.

Mahito

You’re his personal entertainment. You’re an experiment.

Mahito is incredibly laid-back, even lazy to an extent. He lets you roam and explore and fall. He doesn’t care what you do as long as you stay within the four walls he’s placed you in.

It's hard to understand him. For a curse, he’s always laughing, finding almost child-like joy in the most odd things. Whether that’s watching an animal documentary or wondering if a human’s neck can extend like the turtles on TV.

One thing you do know is that he likes games and he likes playing with you. The only problem is you don’t when the game starts and ends, the rules or even if you’re playing right. Oftentimes, you find yourself playing a game that you don’t know the rules of and Mahito has named himself the gamekeeper.

He usually starts by asking a question. Something simple like “What time did you wake up?” or “What did you eat today?”. You find out the hard way that no matter what you say, you’re always wrong.

Say you woke up at ten? Then you’ll find yourself pressing into the mattress, drooling on your pillow as he drills you, punishing you for waking so late in the day. You had a slice of cake earlier? Then don’t be surprised when you’re in the kitchen licking icing off his cock as punishment for an unhealthy lunch.

Itadori Yuuji

He's the jock that gave you a chance. That made you feel special and pretty and popular.

He's sweet. He gives you his hoodie when you’re cold. He drives you home after school. Buys you lunch when you can’t afford it. Takes you on nice dates.

He wants you sitting front row at all his games, wearing his varsity jacket so everyone knows you’re his girl. He twirls you and kisses you in front of the whole school when he wins, the whole thing right of a cheesy rom-com.

But, surely, you didn’t think he was doing all that for free? No, he wants compensation. He deserves a reward for treating you so sweetly. It's only fair.

It doesn’t matter if you’re ‘not ready’. No, no, you’re just nervous, sweetheart. But he’ll be gentle with you so calm down. Yeah, calm down when he slides a hand up your skirt on a date to the movies. Be quiet when he asks you for head in the janitor’s closet between classes. And don’t make a fuss when he slips his cock inside of you, raw, even though you begged him to use a condom.

‘Rubbers hurt,’ he says. ‘It feels better raw’,’ he pleads. ‘Don’t worry - I'll pull out.,’ he promises.

And you better be understanding when he comes inside of you. Afterall, he’ll buy you a plan b.

Choso

Whatever you do, do not stress this man.

He’s going through enough as is. The last thing he needs from you is any attitude or ungratefulness. Even an upset face will have you with your knees pushed beside your head and Choso making you scream, all while watching you with that same tired expression.

Choso is the oldest of ten siblings. He is used to dealing with bratty behavior. He handles your tantrums with grace - once you’ve finished throwing things and screaming, he’ll only ask if you're finished. And then he will be upon you.

But, beyond punishment, he is caring and quiet. He prefers it when you speak, likes it when you prattle on about your day or your favorite show. He likes it when you’re happy.

[percervall]

Mamma mia, here I go again {pt3}

Summary: A summer of poor decisions leads you to having to face the consequences of your actions —and the men involved. Pairing: Kevin Magnussen x fem!reader, Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: mentions of sexism/double standards Word count: 978 Taglist: @averagef1fansblog @barcelonaloverf1life  @bradfordbantams @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @exotic-iris13 @goldsainz @iloveneteyam @jaypreshpresh @laura-naruto-fan1998 @monzamash @norrisleclercf1 @opheliaas-stuff @roseseraj @vellicora 

Part 3 of the Mamma Mia series

The one thing none of you had considered was how to explain all of this to your bosses. You were fairly sure Lewis would make sure you couldn’t lose your job over this, but somehow the idea of losing Toto’s respect felt worse than that. So as soon as you entered the paddock, you went to find Toto to ask him to call a meeting with the Haas team principal. Looking at your watch, you see that you have another fifteen minutes to go before Steiner gets here. Resting a hand on your stomach, you breathe through another wave of nausea. 

“Here,” someone to your left says as they hand you your favourite mug with ginger tea. 

“Thanks Mick,” you offer weakly, taking a careful sip. Mick smiles and sits down next to you. 

“So, George wasn’t lying,” he says, looking over to where Lewis, Kevin and Mark are standing, deep in conversation. 

“No, he wasn’t,” you admit. Both of you are quiet for a while. 

“I do wanna say thank you. For making life more stressful for Steiner. Just wish it didn’t have to include me knowing you slept with two men I look up to,” Mick breaks the silence. You can tell from the twinkle in his eyes that he is mostly joking. You nudge him with your shoulder.

“Gotta look out for my Micky, don’t I? Even if it leads to feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter..”

“Toto won’t think any differently of you. You’ve been here for all of Lewis’ scandals with women. He’d be a hypocrite.” 

“He would be, however, the standard for women is different. Especially in this sport. I have worked with Toto for 10 years now so logically I know he won’t hold it against me. Doesn’t mean I’m not scared of what will happen next,” you say while looking at the ginger floating in your mug. Sighing you get up, signalling to Lewis that it’s time. Despite knowing Mick is right, you can’t help the feeling of absolute dread at needing to come clean about your predicament.

“Now that that’s over and done with,” Mark starts as the four of you make your way back outside of the motor home after promising both team principles to handle this like adults and stay out of trouble, “Lewis, Kevin and I were figuring out logistics for our plans of wooing you.” 

“Oh great..” you mutter, “So what, you’re gonna rock, paper, scissors this?” 

“Something like that,” Lewis chuckles, “Can I take you out to dinner after the race on Sunday?” 

“After the race debrief you mean? I-.. Yeah, okay.” 

“Great,” Lewis says, a fondness to his eyes that catches you off guard, “Just wear something comfortable, we’re not going to a fancy restaurant.” He gives your arm a squeeze before getting whisked away by one of the Mercedes press officers. Mark and Kevin also say goodbye, and you can tell both of them would love nothing more than to show more affection towards you than you’re ready for right now. In the end both of them settle for a hug before leaving you alone with your thoughts. You quickly make your way into your office to gather the data you need for the meeting with the engineers ahead of qualifying.

The rest of the weekend passes in a blur. Making sense of the cars’ performances during the three qualifying sessions keeps you busy enough to refrain you from even thinking about Sunday evening. It’s not until you’re back in your hotel after the race debrief that you remember you need to get ready for dinner –for a date. 

“I don’t even know where we’re going,” you mutter as you dig through your suitcase for something that isn’t Mercedes branded. Thankfully you find a patterned skirt you had thrown in to travel home in, the bloating you are beginning to experience making trousers uncomfortable sometimes. You get out the ironing board and let the iron heat up while you freshen up, getting ready in record time. You hear a knock on the door as you finish tying your laces.

“Coming!” you call out, getting up from the chair. You quickly let Lewis in while you gather your phone and wallet.

“This is the best I could do with the clothes I brought, hope it’s okay?” you say, as you put your belongings in a tote bag, not having brought a purse this weekend.

“You look beautiful,” Lewis says, taking in your outfit. You decided to pair the skirt with a plain cropped t-shirt and your trainers. “You always look beautiful,” he adds. You feel your cheeks heat up under his gaze and awkwardly clear your throat.

“Thanks. You look good, too,” you reply, trying not to stare at the way his white t-shirt clings to his muscles. He gives you a wink that only makes you more flustered. Get it together, you scold yourself, he’s a friend. You follow Lewis out of your hotel room and let him lead you down to the garage where he opens the car door for you of the Mercedes he was driving all weekend. You murmur a thanks and let him help you in, the warmth of his hand comfortable as it holds onto yours. For a moment you feel 16 all over again, getting swept off your feet when your crush would hold the door for you. Lewis gives you a smile and closes the door before rounding the car, giving you a second to take a deep breath. The two of you are silent as he pulls out of the garage and onto the streets of Monza. 

“Where are we going?” you ask as Lewis merges onto the motorway.

“You’ll see,” he replies with a smile. You can’t help but roll your eyes at his secrecy and settle in for the drive.

A shorter chapter this time, but the next one will make up for it! Gearing up to the dates now 🙊

Feel free to let me know your thoughts! Your comments, tags, and love for the previous chapters meant the absolute world to me 💜

[deanwritings]

FwB: Chapter 8 -  Goodbye, Stranger. It’s been nice.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: FwB - Friends with Benefits.

After walking in on Y/N following a fun encounter, Dean and Y/N decide it would be beneficial and much easier to use each other for their needs. But can they keep it just about sex?

FwB - Master List

Word Count: 4,121

Warning: 18+ themes and language.

Gif:

A/N: You all voted for more angst, so here's angst 🗡❤️

You wanted to lay there forever in Dean’s arms, wrapped up, head against his bare chest as you listened to his heart relax. But you both knew you didn’t have time to revel in the after. You had no idea how long it was going to take Sam to get the case files, and the last thing either of you wanted was for him to walk in on you. Somehow, having Sam walk in on this moment would be more embarrassing than him interrupting the deed itself. 

So despite everything in you screaming at you to stay, you knew you had to leave. You needed to get out of this moment, and more than that, you had to say goodbye to this agreement.

You had waited as long as you could, savored every minute you’ve shared with Dean, but you promised yourself you would protect your heart, and you were on the verge of shattering that.

There was no more hiding. There was no more crushing. 

You were truly and fully head–over-heels in love with Dean Winchester.

And Dean doesn’t do love, not in the relationship type of way. Dean loves in a way that sucks in everyone around him. Dean loves in how he gives every person in his life everything he’s got, even when he feels he has nothing left to give. A love that would die for you if given the opportunity. But Dean doesn’t do love love. No, that part of him seemed to have died with one of his many deaths over the years. His heart was completely shut off for the love of one person. Whereas yours lights up for him, shining bright even on the tough winter days and lonely nights. 

You could never go back to just being Dean’s friend now. You had officially blurred the lines, and even just knowing what a taste of a life with Dean could look like, was enough of a bittersweet pill to swallow that that was all you were ever going to get from him, through no fault of his own. A lifetime of death and hardships will do that to a man. 

You so desperately wished that somehow you would be enough for him, to break down the walls that he’s been building since he was four years old, but you hadn’t. All you had been was a warm body to share a bed with the last few months. That was all Dean had to offer, and you were thankful to even get that. 

But now it was your turn. You had built your own wall, the blocks slowly coming together the further you fell for the green-eyed hunter, and it was time for him to step out onto the other side and for you to shut the door, locking your heart away from him for good. 

You reach your hand up and run it through his damp hair, unsticking it from his forehead as you sweep it up. Dean sighs into your touch and looks down to find your gaze, that stupid, content smile resting easily on his lips.

“We should get up,” you whisper, not wanting to break the silence of the moment, afraid that once you do, reality will officially settle in and your new plan will have to move into motion.

His eyes crinkle at your words and his hand finds yours, carrying it onto his chest.

“Or we can stay here,” he counters, and you turn your lips inwards as his boyish charm peeks through. Not the one he breaks out at the bars, but the bashful one, like he’s said something that might embarrass him. You love that one. It makes you feel special, even if you aren’t. 

“Sam’s could be back any moment.” You play the logic card, thinking that will have him rolling away from you for one final time, but he doesn’t budge.

“Don’t worry, I took care of that,” Dean chuckles, his free arm that's wrapped around your back reaching up to tap his temple. You push off him slightly, meeting his eyeline as you squint at him.

“What do you mean?”

Dean takes a deep breath and shifts himself slightly, facing you more fully.

“Before I joined you in the shower,” his eyes gleam. “I sent Sammy a message telling him to text me when he was on his way back so that he could pick up some food for us.” Dean then turns away from you, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. 

“As of fifteen minutes ago, Sam was still waiting for the case files. No new texts since.” He drops his phone back onto the stand and faces you again, his grin spreading across his entire face at his own well-oiled plan. 

You laugh through your nose and shake your head, heavy ringlets of hair slapping against your neck.

That sly bastard was always thinking ahead. 

Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, he smirks at you and your heart somersaults in your ribcage. 

“You just think of everything, don’t ya.” You can’t help but tease as you lower yourself back down, this time onto the pillow next to him. He just gives you a shrug, his smile not faltering. 

Once more, you wish you could just relax into the mattress and stare at the carefree man across from you as he settles into his own pillow, but your heart is pounding as you continue to prolong the inevitable. 

You're suddenly and innately aware that you’re still naked, and you quickly kick out the covers and bury yourself underneath them. You were about to be vulnerable enough, you didn’t want to be ass-naked in the process.

You see Dean frown as you cover yourself from your peripherals, but you ignore him as he stands from the bed and steps into the bathroom, returning with his boxers slung low on his hips, looking delectable as ever, and a dry towel in his hand. 

He tosses it over to you, and you thank him as you unfurl yourself from the covers and wrap the white cotton around your body, sitting yourself on the edge of the bed. The tight smile of thanks you propped on fades, and you look away from him, taking in a breath of confidence. 

“Ya good there, Y/N?” Dean shoots you a look as he makes his way over to his duffle, unzipping it and rummaging around. 

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the fabric resting on your chest. Turns out, it’s not so easy to self-destruct.

But what just happened was no longer sex. It was love. You felt it in your bones, in your soul.

And that wasn’t part of your agreement, to you or Dean. 

“I think we need to talk.” Your voice rings above the ping on Dean’s phone. He drops the shirt from his hands and walks over to pick it up, staring at the screen a moment before shooting off a text and returning his attention to you.

“Sam’s gonna get us all burgers if that works.” He informs you, and you just nod, saving your voice for the conversation that matters. He begins to head back to his bag, but as if he suddenly remembers your words, he turns to you, giving you his full attention.

“Wait, is this a ‘good talk’ or a ‘bad talk’?” His shoulders fall. Your mouth pops open but no words come out.

“So a bad talk.” He concludes, and you can only respond with a deep breath. “I think I need to opt-out, Dean.” Your eyes study the navy carpet, too afraid to meet his gaze.

“Of the agreement?” Dean blanches, and you miss the recoil in his body at your words. All you do is nod in response.

“I’m confused, didn’t we just have amazing sex?” You can hear him pace behind you, on the other side of the bed, but the tattered carpet continues to hold your attention. 

“What the hell changed in the past five minutes?” You hear his hands slap against his thighs, and you wince at the sound.

“Nothing’s changed, Dean.” You sigh. “I made my mind up a while ago.” You confess. 

Dean laughs, cold and disingenuous. 

“So what, was that break up sex?” You don’t have an answer for him, because truthfully, you weren’t expecting to sleep with him again. You assumed, on a hunt, there wouldn’t be any time or privacy for that. And that once you got home, you could break the news to him. You hadn’t anticipated what had happened. 

“No, it wasn’t break up sex, Dean.” You finally muster the courage to turn in your seat and face him, but he’s not looking at you. He’s staring off at the wall. 

“I wasn’t even planning to have sex with you! You walked into the bathroom, and,” you sigh, too afraid to speak the next words out loud.  

I just couldn’t say no. I couldn’t miss my last chance to be with you. 

“I thought you would have liked that!” He throws his arms out as his attention finds you. “Look, if that crossed a line, I’m sorry, I truly am.” He steps closer to the bed, though the mattress still separates you. “But that doesn’t mean we have to stop this.” He motions between you both. 

You shake your head and stand, willing the tears you feel to hold back just a few minutes longer. You won’t let him see you cry. People who are just having sexy don’t cry over having sex.

“Dean,” you find his beautiful green eyes, filled with uncertainty and rejection. And it hurts your heart that much more. 

“It’s nothing you’ve done.” You stand, your voice struggling to find its volume as your heart races and your head feels light. But you push through. You have to. 

“You’ve been wonderful. Truly.” You take a step towards the foot of the bed, towards the man you’re about to walk away from. 

As you step closer, Dean doesn’t move away, but you can see in his eyes he’s retreating. The little bit of himself he’s been giving you is pulling back, about to disappear forever. 

You watch as his head shakes side to side, jaw tightening as his chin dips away from you and his Adam's Apple bobs with a thick swallow. His mouth opens, but as if he thinks against it, he tightens his lips and takes in a breath, his chest rising heavily with the movement. 

“Fine,” his coarse voice breaks through. “We’re done then.” He gives you a tight smile, his eyes crinkling all the same. The words sting, not having anticipated them. 

He pushes past you to his duffle, pulling out a shirt and turning his back to you as he pulls it over his head. You watch him from behind as he settles himself down at the round, diner-style table, opening his laptop and putting his full attention into the screen. 

Honestly, you were a bit thrown off by the entire thing. You had expected him to be surprised, but he almost seemed upset by the whole conversation. 

For one split second, it almost felt like he was fighting for you. For the both of you. It made that small, stupid part of you wonder if he felt that there was something more there too. But the logical part of you knew better; that wasn’t how Dean Winchester operated. 

He was probably just upset at the loss of easy sex. Now he would have to go back to working his charm on girls in bars or waitresses. 

And this wasn’t how you wanted it to end. You wanted to thank him for ever suggesting it and have him look you in the eye one last time and smile that god damn thousand watt smile because he had enjoyed it just as much as you had. But instead you stare at his back, his shoulders tight as he leans over the table. Your lips are pursed and unshed tears hang onto your eyes as you turn away from him and slink into the bathroom, slowly shutting the door behind you with a resounding click.

Sam walks back into the room about ten minutes later, looking between his brother sitting at the table, scrolling through some article, and Y/N sitting on one of the two beds with her head in her phone. 

There’s a palpable energy, an awkwardness, hanging in the air, and it’s not what Sam was anticipating upon his return. 

“Got burgers,” Sam raises the bag into the air, catching the room’s attention. “And beer.” Sam tries to motion to the twelve-pack resting under his arm. 

“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean pushes up from the table and grabs the beer from his brother’s loose hold, setting it on the counter and quickly pulling out a can and cracking it open. 

Sam’s eyes dart between Dean and Y/N. Something’s clearly wrong; the two looked like they were trying to put as much space between them as they could in the small room, and Sam had to wonder if it was tied into your bad mood from earlier. 

He figured something had gone down between the two of you at the bunker, but he was hoping some time alone would help you both sort it out. 

Apparently he was wrong. 

The two continue their silence as everyone gathers at the table for dinner, Y/N nursing a beer while Dean’s already on his second. The two refuse to make eye contact, so Sam decides to break the silence.

“So I took a look over the case files while I was waiting for the food,” Sam drops his veggie burger onto the wrapper and reaches into his bag for the folders. 

“We’ve got two vics, both male. The first, Bobby Ford. Was found dead in his hunting cabin outside of town. He was torn to shreds and partially devoured, and the cabin was covered in claw marks and unidentifiable ‘three-toed footprints.’” Sam looks up to see Dean’s and Y/N’s attention on him. “Second vic was Carl Galyon. He was at home with his wife, Beth, when they heard something in the yard. Carl went out with a shotgun assuming it was a bear, and when Beth heard him scream, she said this huge creature was tearing Carl apart. Much larger than a bear and had glowing red eyes. According to forensics, the same three-toed footprints were found on the scene.” Dean’s eyebrows shoot up, and Sam is expecting him to make one of his usual, snarky comments, usually to try and get either a rise or a laugh out of Y/N. But this time, Dean just nods as he swallows down a bite of burger with his beer.

“So what do we think we’re looking at?” Is all Dean offers. Sam frowns at his brother before his eyes sweep over to Y/N, who keeps her gaze at her food. 

“Okay,” Sam drops the file and straightens up in his seat to see both his friend and brother at the same time. “What the hell is going on between you two?” 

Finally, their eyes meet for the first time since Sam’s returned, but the look doesn’t last long. 

“No clue what you’re talking about, Sammy.” Dean answers for the two of them, a tight smirk on his lips. The obvious lying smirk that Dean uses when he tries to convince Sam that everything is alright when it never is. 

“Yeah, sure.” Sam frowns at his brother. “Clearly everything is totally normal.” Sam narrows his eyes and Dean just shrugs at him before taking another long sip of his beer. Sam shoots Y/N a glance, but her chin is resting on her raised knee as she picks at the tab on her can. 

“Do you have a theory or not, Sam?” Dean’s voice cuts in. It’s stern and annoyed. It’s Dean’s way of telling Sam to drop it and move on. It’s a voice Dean hasn’t used with Sam in a while. 

Sam huffs, loud enough to make his own statement back, before obliging. 

“Yeah I have a theory,” Sam snips back and Dean narrows his eyes at the response. “I think it could be a Fouke Monster.” 

“The hell is that?” Dean grumbles through a mouthful of burger. Sam sighs again at his boorish brother.

“It’s a local legend – similar to Bigfoot, but more bear-like. From what I’ve read on it, it seems to have an interest in fresh organs, and only makes an appearance every ten years or so. There’s been sightings all over the area for decades now but it’s been passed off as a local legend.” Dean nods his head side to side as he finishes chewing, mulling over Sam’s words. 

“Okay, any clue on how to kill it?” Sam walks Dean and Y/N through the logistics. Killing it will be simple – gunshot to the head. Tracking it will be tougher. It’s going to require Dean’s least favorite hunting activity. Hiking. 

“Absolutely not.” Dean throws his burger down, wiping his hands against each other before he points a finger at Sam. Sam just sighs through his nose, not really looking to argue.

“Do you have a better plan?” Sam hums. “Because we need to somehow track this thing and we have no clue where it lives.” Dean smirks tightly at Sam, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Dean crosses his arms over his chest as his smirk shifts to a triumphant grin. 

To Sam’s left, Y/N stands from the table, taking her half eaten burger with her before tossing it in the trash and silently slipping out the door as Dean finishes his plan to get fresh hearts from a butcher shop and setting a trap on the outskirts of town. Sam doesn't miss as Dean’s eyes follow her movements, though he carries on his thought as if he doesn’t notice. 

“Okay, so what the hell is actually going on with you two.” Sam cuts his brother off as the door clicks shut behind Y/N.

Dean’s mouth parts, but no words come out before he closes it again. This isn’t something he’s interested in speaking to Sam about. Honestly, he wouldn’t even know where to start. 

Between your annoyance at his report this morning, and you officially ending things after what Dean considered to be the best sex the two of you had had yet, his head was spinning. 

He thought things were going right for you two. Finally. The lines of fuck buddies had been blurring, and Dean was ready to erase it all together if you were willing to take a chance on him. He wasn’t relationship material. He had proven that several times over the years. But he suddenly found himself wanting to try for you. And maybe, just maybe, his past relationships had failed because they had never been with another hunter. Someone who was in this life and understood what it meant when a hunt went wrong. That talking about your feelings wasn’t the answer. That sometimes you just needed a strong drink, or a few, and something to punch the rage away. And that was something you understood. That sometimes just being there was the only thing that could make a bad night better. 

And in the moments after your encounters, his favorite ones being when you stayed the night, everything about it felt natural. It felt right having you asleep on the pillow next to him. Not just because of the sex, but there was something there he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that lifted away the weight that sat on his shoulders every night before he fell asleep, that made him smile when he woke up, whether you were next to him or not. Though his smile was always bigger when you were. 

Then what had happened today, in the shower, it felt like so much more than what the two of you had been doing up until now. The act felt heavier, the apathetic attitude you both brought to this arrangement seemed to dissipate in the steam. Something about this felt real, and Dean was feeling alive for the first time in a long time. 

Then you looked at him with your shimmering Y/E/C eyes, your face crestfallen before you told him you wanted to break it off. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised. He had always known he wasn’t worth keeping around. Never has been. But he thought you had been enjoying yourself, and he hoped that would be enough for you to not discard him like everyone else in his life had. 

You were wonderful. Truly. You had even complimented him. Though maybe that was bullshit. Your way of trying to say “no hard feelings.” 

And he wanted to change your mind. To tell you that he wasn’t ready to let go. But he had already made an ass of himself, and he didn’t need to hear any more from you that he wasn’t enough. That he was only good for a fuck, and now you were tired of the only thing he could offer. 

So he let it go. Turned away from you before he could let the hurt creep up and embarrass him further. And once you disappeared back into the bathroom, he let his shoulders sag, his body folding over on the table as he shook his head and told himself what an idiot he was for every thinking there was more to what the two of you had. And he made sure to steel himself off by the time you came back out, silent and fully changed before you settled on the bed you hadn’t just shared together. Which felt like a message in and of itself. 

“Care to share, Dean?” Sam’s voice cuts through, and Dean just responds by bringing his beer to his lips and finishing off the can, using it as an excuse to get up from the table and get a fresh one. 

“Nothing to share, Sammy.” Dean keeps his back to his brother as he cracks open a new beer, swallowing down the lump in his throat before he takes his first sip. 

“Bullshit, Dean. Something’s been up with you and Y/N all day. You two have been really close lately and tonight you couldn’t even look at each other.” Dean tilts his head back, eyes gazing up at the foam-looking ceiling tiles that are likely older than he is. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and closes his eyes. 

He’s not surprised Sam’s picked up on their closeness. After their dinner date, it wasn’t much of a secret that they were spending more time together outside of the bedroom. Hell, the time they were spending together, they were actually physically closer; thighs touching as they sat in the Dean Cave watching a movie, sitting on the same side of the kitchen bench at dinner. Everything normal they were doing was just being done close. 

With another deep breath, Dean’s shoulders fall.

“What do you want me to say, Sam?” Dean’s voice barely rises above the whirr of the mini fridge. 

That I fucked up the only good thing I’ve ever had? That I’ll never be good enough for someone like Y/N? That all I’m good for is a bang? 

Dean rests his arms out on the counter in front of him and he listens as his brother approaches.

“Dude, are you okay?” Sam asks quietly, annoyance replaced with concern as he stares at his brother’s hunched form. When Dean doesn’t answer, Sam continues on.

“There’s something going on between you two, huh?” Dean laughs through his nose and shakes his head before he turns to face his brother. 

“I think you figured that one out already, Sammy.” Dean offers up a fading smile as he takes a long sip of beer. Sam’s body falls as he lets out a sigh.

“No, I mean, like is something going on between the two of you.” Sam raises his eyebrows, earning a silent “ah” from his brother. 

Dean purses his lips, debating what, if anything, he should tell Sam. Y/N was very adamant about Sam not knowing about the arrangement. But Sam has unsurprisingly picked up on the change between them, so there is no use lying to his brother at this point. 

“Not anymore.” Is all Dean offers before he tilts the can back and finishes it with a few, large gulps, wiping his lips of a few fallen drops and tosses the can in the trash and then breaks out the next.

Chapter 9

FwB Tags

@iprobablyshipit91 @goldngguk @roseblue373 @spnfamily-j2 @marvelsmylife @sarahgracej @sacriceria @winchestergypsy90 @jdmswife @suckitands33 @kliness @deans-baby-momma @icequeen1371 @foxyjwls007 @deansbbyx @beskarfilms @deans-spinster-witch @nakedshowerdean @iamsapphine @ghostofjoharvelle @sexytholland @tmb510 @rach5ive @jamerlynn @lilbloggs @satanicpixiedreamgirl @krazykelly @wonderland2022 @globetrotter28 @raisinggray @faithfullcompanion

LMK if you want to be tagged!

[plumsaffron]

Yooo, lemme keep cooking! I will not hold back at all for this one time! If anyone’s sensitive to vulgar language here, click away! (not counting the fandom side that doesn’t indulge in bashing!)

Why did they fail the IQ tests? Because they didn't study or do their research!

Are you people conspiracy theorists? Cuz y’all have shit evidence and arguments!

Y'all brought this upon yourselves since you couldn't let go your intense hatred of Lila and even several innocent characters who didn’t do anything wrong!

Hold on, why are some of y'all hating Alya? She's actually a good person/friend with some flaws! Are you secretly racist because you keep on portraying her as an angry black woman in your saltfics?

Y’all are the main reason why fanfic crossovers on Wattpad and AO3 either hardly get attention (non bashing) or indulges in (hyper)attentive unhealthy bloodsports (bashing) these days.

I bet the DC, Marvel and other western fiction media folk were wondering why there’s an influx of crossovers in their tumblr and social media feeds. Until they rightfully gave y’all the side eye for making nonsensical shit! No wonder the dark canon content fandoms are more mature than the wholesome canon content fandoms!

The Mari///bat community deadass makes the DP X DC community look good as a whole. Because at least the latter made sense with their dark edgy plots and toned down (actually light bashing compared to that ship) or didn’t do their bashing of certain controversial characters and just wanted to make a well-written AU. And y’all are also giving crossover ships a bad name/reputation!

Well, I’m glad some artists/writers and online groups don’t like your show and refuse to do your commissions/requests! Because they don’t want to get caught up in your bullshit!

If the show didn’t exist at all or had a different canon creator doing things right: 😊

The song that came up in my head is Pink Guy - STFU. For some reason the link share doesn’t work so just copy paste this: https://youtube.com/watch?v=xS3vpBCiL2c

Got some very insulting names here!: miracucunts, miracubitches, miracutards, miracutwats, miracutwits, miracuidiots, miracudumbasses, miracuplague, miracuvirus, miracubozos, miracuhoes, miracuwhores

They probably are when it comes to Alya Cesaire

or mastered the ability of granting their selves, a massive dosage of Miracancer because she didn’t react the way they wanted her to upon their and or Marinette’s behalf or the best drone friend they want her to be. They also forget that Alya hasn’t been Marinette’s friend for that long (it’s been less than a year). They are highly allergic to Alya not feeling like she should remember or care as they or Marinette does. Oh the most offensive thought of all time, which is Alya has a life outside of Marinette. Accept if one doesn’t help or supports Marinette’s cause must be 100% when wanted or they’re awful. Seeing differently of things against Marinette’s interest is abominable (even if Marinette’s obsession is concerning and her health is uh something and she’s making things worse for herself).

It’s probably one of the reasons they battle cry Marinette should have told Alya of the bathroom scene because it would change everything in their mind while ignoring any possibly of it backfiring considering Marinette’s track record and thirst and Alya annoyed earlier of her crap.

Heck episodes in general show how things be backfiring. These Miracuskanks can see all of that all the time but somehow couldn’t bother seeing other routes Alya could also choose that may also work against their favor. I guess they only adore quick fixes (until it backfires).

Those Miracrystal Meth theorists… make me groan usually.

Lila Foamers Logic be like:

Destroy Lila and Everyone That Doesn’t Fulfill our or Marinette’s interests against her. Let's rally up against them.

NOOOOO Lila is not staying in the in the dirt (like other characters we somehow like or ignore seeing in the dirt continously)

NOOOOO She rebounded (despite previous episode existing).

Let me think absolutely the worst of things to become canon because it’s our duty to yearn to put her down what we can’t handle or fathom her by any means, while not accounting for we just doomed basically many characters in a nutshell and made things worse (especially for those that we feel or are aware messed up crap was done to them). I have nothing else better by cause destruction and give miracuwankers free purposeless reasons to rage more than before at characters that just had a different perspectives and innocent characters. If these fools think this is to ensure this idea of she’s worse than Gabriel and Mayura and Tomoe then lol cause they just gave a free add on to make Nathalie and Gabriel and I guess Tomoe worse than before and achieved zilch.

All to ensure a main protagonist is inherently right to not let go of Lila (or anyone like her in the future or Marinette assigns as like such), just like the viewers that absorb and transcend the accursed mantra that, in their face, has been shown causing problems that could have been avoided and kept to their own selves? Whoops they can’t see their own selves being affected but even if they do, they would still destroy themselves and spreading their pollination around. This twisted quench of self righteousness also implies Marinette’s accursed ways against Kagami are inherently justified as Kagami was assigned as Marinette’s 2nd Lila. And whoever else but I rambled too long to go further. Oh when losers hate what happens but some reason seeks even worse.

Miracuroaches surely should https://youtube.com/watch?v=xS3vpBCiL2c

[cakebatteronabrickwall]

Sure, “the cycle is cycling” is a fun and cute thing to say but in all honesty? To me, the succession ending sort of accidentally broke that logic. Can you really draw the logical conclusion that the siblings end up like Ewan and Logan? No, because what was the reason for their estrangement? Ultimately, Ewan resents Logan for letting himself become the person he died as. Why was Logan like that? Because of the company (very simplisitc, there is more here obviously). Shiv literally takes that possibility away from Kendall by voting against him.

Does that mean being “out” magically fixes their shit? Of course not. Here is the thing. Kendall will always be trapped in the cycle of thinking he was meant to be CEO, it was instilled into him as a child! Part of him will always resent Shiv for her vote and will always come back to this formative moment. But. Does that mean he can never care about anything else, doomed to wander around as an empty shell? I don’t think so, we’ve been through the epic highs and lows of corporate fuckery with Ken, he somehow always returns to himself in the end, partially because of his siblings.

Shiv will always be stuck knowing that her being a woman plays a major part in the way her father and every other man in her life treats her. That resentment won’t go away either, it may even take a new shape with motherhood mixed in. But also, she is probably working a new angle with Tom as we speak. Maybe she’ll return to her political roots, who knows, she certainly will do everything to not become her mother even if she jokes about the opposite at the funeral. But the most important thing to me is the fact that, even in her resentment towards Ken, she tells him “I love you, but I can’t fucking stomach you”. The first part did not need to be there. And yet.

And Roman (always hardest to talk about for me, lol). Well, he will always look for guidance outside of himself, he will always need his family. His ending is lonely on one side, but there is a quiet beauty in it as well. After everything, there is a moment of solitude and being able to breathe, even reminisce. He just started really grieving and wherever the path leads, it will never lead back to Logan. It can’t. He will always love his father (and I need to take the moment to say- that is totally fine, we as observers have a different view on their relationship than him), but his father will never be able to abuse that or hold it against him again. The wheels have come off the cycle and the engine is dead. The entire fourth season can be seen as an attempt to keep the cycle alive, because it is comforting in a way. But it doesn’t work, because, I repeat, THE ENGINE IS LITERALLY DEAD.

See, succession clearly has shown that whereas Logan and Ewan had no desire to be a family, the sibs always find their way back to each other. After Ken’s season 1 bullshit. After Ken’s press conference. After the confrontation with Logan. Ewan tells people at the funeral “I loved him I suppose, but-” but none of them would ever say that. The love is so clearly, inarguably there and maybe that is the real tragedy; that in another world it could have been a much easier kind of love (but it rarely is, for most of us anyways).

[thetraingotsetonfireonmidnight]

OMG CAN U DO MIDORIYA X READER SOULMATE AU? Maybe they are connected with one for all somehow. (Doesn’t need to to anything canon) oh and i don’t care if reader is m or f.

maybe something where deku feels connection to reader and is overprotective but doesn’t first understand why.

your stories are lovely btw <3

ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔡

Midoryia Izuku x GN!reader

Thank you, hun <3 I had too many ideas for this, so I made a small drabble instead. Hope you enjoy!

Everyone say thank you to Soup for editing this for me!

Deku was never sure what it was that drew him to you. 

He could ramble on about you for days.  Flowing like a raging river with no sign of stopping. On and on about your favorite things, habits of yours not even you had picked up on, how your hairstyle suits you, your flaws and your perfections, and so much more. His ramblings would never end.

But if you were to ask him why he felt connected to you?

He stops. 

Like something had blocked the flow in the river. Was it a giant rock? A dam? Had the water dried up? What stopped the boy who never stopped talking from talking?

Perhaps that was just the effect you had on him.

That's how crushes worked, right? They left you breathless? Unable to explain the feeling that burned in your chest? Left you at the mercy of the special person who had stolen your heart?

But a crush was elevating. Left you floating high in the sky, away from the harsh reality as you paraded around in your own little heaven where life could do no wrong. 

And Deku felt that, don't get him wrong. You gave him a different kind of high that left him stumbling and unable to think clearly. 

It was just that the burning sensation wasn't alone. The welcomed feeling of love was joined by something stronger. Something that didn't elevate Deku, but instead grounded him. A strong tug, forceful and demanding. Almost like a mini Bakugou had invaded his mind, yelling "TALK TO YOUR CRUSH. TALK TO THEM!" everytime you come near. 

Just like the real Bakugou, this voice was the center of his frustrations. 

He crouched down, stretching his legs. They were currently fighting against class 1-B in one of the natural disaster training grounds. The mission was simple: you had to steal the other team's flag and make it back to base with it.

He and the rest of his class had come up with a formation to ensure they would win.

Ashido, Sato, Jiro, Koda, Yaoyorozu, Kirishima, and Todoroki would stay behind to protect the flag.

Iida, Denki, Bakugou, Hagakure, Shoji, and you would go on to try to steal Class 1-B's flag.

Asui, Uraraka, Oijiro, Aoyama, Sero, Mineta and himself would hide in areas by both bases. Their job was to either help their classmate get to base if they were successful in capturing the flag, or stop a class 1-B member if they tried running off with theirs.

He stood hidden between two buildings, stretching his legs and arms. While he should've been thinking about how much of his power he should use, his thoughts got redirected to you. You were strong, Deku knew this, yet he couldn't help but feel uneasy about you going off for the flag.

When Momo had first proposed the formation, he had been hoping to be put in the same group as you, but she had other plans.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but you, Bakugou, and Todoroki have become the top 3 in the class. You're leaders. Each group needs a leader."

Momo said Deku could switch places with Bakugou, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. There was no way he'd comply with being back up.

And you switching groups wasn't an option either. You looked so excited about the position you were given. Deku couldn't take that from you.

Logically, he knew he was overreacting. This wasn't a war, it was training. They weren't fighting power hungry villains, they were fighting class 1-B in a safe and controlled environment. Nothing bad would happen.

You would be fine.

You would be fine.

You would be—

"I GOT IT!" 

Your voice-

BOOM– "START RUNNING, DUMBASS!"

Deku glanced over to see you and your team making a run for it. You used your quirk to get by as fast as you could, members of class 1-B following close behind.

Deku crouched, making eye contact with his team. He leapt forward, his teammates following suite.

While class 1-A had the advantage of having real experience with villains, class 1-B had improved their quirks significantly.

Deku found it difficult trying to keep up with their quick moments. The fact that he kept looking over to see where you were didn't help. 

He couldn't stop himself, he needed to know if you were ok.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Shiozaki launching Shoda. He was heading straight for you. 

(Author's note: if you don't remember who these people are: Shiozaki is the girl with vine hair, and Shoda is the guy with the Twin Impact quirk!)

He hit your side and yelled the one word Deku was afraid of hearing: 

"FIRE!"

An invisible force sent you flying into a wall, class 1-B's flag slipping through your fingers.

It was like time froze.

Deku couldn't see anything or anyone other than you—

And the man who hurt you.

Anger burned in his veins, everything within him screaming to do something.

That intense tug returned and it pulled him towards you. 

Always you.

Using 25% of his power, he ran after Shoda.

His black whip wrapped around Shoda's waist, and using the same force he used on you, he threw him.

"Ugh, my side…" You muttered. Though your voice was quiet, Deku heard it. It stuck out from the chaos around him and he found himself making his way to you. 

You held onto some rubble and wiped your bloody nose.

"Are you ok?" He grabbed your arm and put it around his shoulders. He thought about wrapping his free arm around your waist, but embarrassment held him back. 

"Yeah, it's just my back."

"It's not bad, is it—?"

"DEKU!" 

Deku jumped and you groaned in annoyance.

Bakugou stomped his way over to you, "The hell are you doing?! You didn't grab the flag butterfingers over here dropped! Now we have to go steal it all over again!"

Deku opened his mouth to ask him what he was talking about, before remembering the situation they were in. He had completely forgotten about the flags.

Guilt swarmed his stomach, he let his team down. What was he doing? 

"Get your head back in the game before I pummel your ass!"

"That's what she said—"

"SHUT IT, DUNCE FACE!"

Class 1-B won the flag game unfortunately. Everyone blamed Deku for their loss. He didn't blame them. 

This time it may have been a harmless game, but in battle he couldn't let himself get distracted so easily. He felt embarrassed for messing up.

All because he was worried about you.

You…

He sighed as he finished brushing his teeth. His classmates were all currently yelling at Mineta because he said something inappropriate again, not that Deku was paying much attention.

He was exhausted and his muscles ached. The only thing he was focused on was making it to his bed, though he failed that goal because the second he closed his bedroom door behind him, he collapsed on the floor and fell asleep.

Dark.

He felt warm and comfortable. Floors have never felt so good before and as he drifts off to sleep he wonders why he even has a bed...

...

Cold.

Deku looked around to see the familiar ghosts of the past. The past users of OFA.

Their faces were blurry and unclear. They all stood quietly, watching Deku carefully.

And in the center of it all was you.

You stood in the center, eyes trained on him.

"You may not be alone…one more is connected to you."

The holder's voices sounded muffled, but their words were clear.

You had some sort of connection to OFA.

How so, Deku wasn't sure,

But this was the tug that pulled him to you.

This was the connection you two shared.

And from that moment, he knew he had to get closer to you.

He needed to find out your connection to OFA.

[therealslimscreamer]

Yo it's ya boi again

So I saw the Dreamers are actually alive still in this au and I was wondering how that affects Hornet and Quirrel? I mean, watching your mother / mentor figure die only to find out they're not only not dead but also God now has gotta be a little bit wild right

Also, what are the Dreamers like as deities? Like, what / where do they rule over, what do they do, ect

OOOO really good question!!!

okay, so, starting with quirrel. i’ve thought abt him wayyy more to be totally transparent, and that’s partially because i feel like there’s a lot more nuance to him than with hornet purely because of his amnesia. i’ve always viewed it as something monomon did to protect him, so he wouldn’t come back to hallownest in like the height of the infection and not only get himself killed but also eliminate a layer of protection on her seal. but i don’t think she would have considered how he would feel if… you know… she lived and he remembered it all.

like, pretend with me for a moment, you’re quirrel. you’re an academic and an explorer and you’re full of whimsy, and you decide for mysterious reasons to go to this kingsom that you realize you’ve never been to before. how odd! you go check it out, and wow is it beautiful even in ruins, and even despite of the dark caverns and freaky infected zombie-bugs, and you meet your little vessel friend and help them fight this odd jellyfish creature and even though you’ve never seen it somehow you know what to do, and you go to this place and-

you remember.

and maybe it’s just me, but wouldn’t that be sort of terrifying? to learn that you already lived your life once, but you didn’t remember any of it, and now that you do you just feel like… a witness? to remember laughing and smiling and talking with this person but it’s through a lens- because you don’t remember, not really, and to know they did this to you? you devoted your life to them, and they did this to you, because they thought it wouldn’t matter because they would be gone- would you not think of them as selfish? as cruel?

i think quirrel would struggle a lot with that- his current self, as he is, feeling raw and betrayed while simultaneously having to deal with his past self who cared so deeply for monomon. understanding this was the wisest course of action doesn’t make it feel any better.

hornet, conversely, never forgets her mother or anything that comes with her, and thus i feel she may be less guarded. of course, there is still overcoming the grief- of mourning someone you thought dead- and the oddness of that while herrah isnt physically here she is still alive, but would not have nearly as many grudges to hold as quirrel. plus, i think she would want to bond with her mother, and i don’t think hornet would take a second chance like this for granted.

as for what they are deities of!! fortunately i am incredibly obsessed with both hollow knight and mythology and made some rough charts a while ago:

Lurien

Epithets:

The Watcher

Three-Eyed

All-Seeing

Symbols:

Butterflies

Eyes (usually in form of charms or brooches)

Mask w/ one eye

Telescopes

Willow Tree

Patron of: Researchers, Musicians, Astronomers, Lawyers (+ City residents)

God of: Lucid Dreaming, Creativity, Arts, Law/Justice, Foresight

Herrah

Epithets:

The Beast

Noble Queen

Strong-Armed

Motherly

Symbols:

Spiders

Swords/Needles/Spears(?)

Mask w/ six eyes

Oak tree

Webs/Webbing

Patron of: warriors, rulers/monarchs, mothers (+ Deepnest residents)

Goddess of: War, Strategy, Leadership, Motherhood, Reason 

Monomon

Epithets:

The Teacher

Ever-Curious

Ambidexter

Symbols:

Jellyfish (technically Ouma ig)

Books/Papers

Mask w/ four eyes

Acid

Patron of: Scientists, Engineers, Historians, Archivists, Doctors (+ Archives)

Goddess of: Science, Architecture, Logic, Innovation

if you see parallels to greek gods. yeah its because i wrote these while studying for my mythology exam. (parallels are lurien to apollo, athena to herrah, hephaestus to monomon) i may go back and workshop these a bit but for now i’m pretty satisfied with them i think

[sp00kymulderr]

apogee

The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: None. A kiss, if you can call it that. Pining.

You sigh sweet and secret as you watch the Mandalorian from across the room, illuminated by the white bright morning sun coming through the open loading door meeting his shining armour, highlighting him in your vision so that even when you close your eyes you see his strong form.

Your Mandalorian.

No, you shake yourself out of the reverie. Not your Mandalorian, only yours in the charcoal dark when you sleep soundly and your mind fills with the imagined caress of his tender affection. In the night you can imagine he is yours, wants to be. You mellow at the thought of those dreams, let your mind wander just for a second.

He’s never been cold with you, not once. When he plucked you from nowhere and offered you to work on his ship and help care for the kid, you’d been certain he would be a brutish warrior and nothing more. You could not have been more wrong. He was quiet, kind, warm under all that harsh steel.

And he offered you a place, a purpose. Asked you to stay even when your initial agreement was up, said he couldn’t imagine being on the ship without you any more. Of course, he only meant that he liked how you kept the kid entertained and quiet and were helpfully domestic when he needed it. But you still let your heart flutter and dance at his words because in some way he was saying he needed you.

You want him to need you in every way.

It isn’t in him though, isn’t something you dare to think he’s aware of. He isn’t consumed with the thought of lifting his helmet and pressing his lips to yours. Of holding you close and kissing you until you’re breathless. He can’t be.

So you don’t let yourself think about it either. Try, at least.

But here it is again now, deep and woeful in you, as you watch him do nothing more than work on a broken panel before you set off for the next destination of this never-ending adventure your life with him had become. Everything is quiet, the child sleeps soundly and all there is is the rising and falling of your breath as you toy with the necklace you wear – the one he bought you when he saw you eyeing it at the market, a token of his appreciation he had said. When he had put it on you, in your fantasy his fingers grazed your neck with clear intent, and he sighed like he was thinking of kissing your soft skin.

“You’re quiet today” he comments, pulling you out of the rewritten memory. His voice is gravelly, slightly tinny through the modulator, but it’s comforting.

“Sorry” you reply, “just daydreaming I guess”

It sounds too much like thinking about kissing you to you. Too obvious in your voice that the thoughts are romantic and you’re drowning in them. But if he picks up on it, he doesn’t say a thing, nods with a slight chuckle at your dazed state. For a minute you two just look at each other, you smile at him, always content in his presence, and somehow you think he smiles back at you under the helmet.

“Could you help me with this, if you’re not too busy daydreaming?” he asks, now you can hear the hint of that smile in his voice. It makes you laugh, happy, as you move to stand besides him.

He shows you what he needs you to do, just hold down a small loose wire while he fixes it in place. You have to lean so close to him that you your heartbeat picks up again as that unbearable urge to touch him, kiss him, seeps back into you like a fog that covers every logical thought. If he didn’t have on the armour, if he ever let you see his face, you could lean in and discover exactly what it felt like to have your lips on his. You could bask in him like you’ve always wanted to. You have never wanted anything in the way you want to kiss this man and it’s going to break you.

When you both move at the same time, you shifting in your stance as he leans in to work, your cheek presses against the side of the helmet, where his is underneath it. The cool beskar on your face doesn’t even register because it’s his reaction that makes you balk as you stutter out an apology.

You hadn’t even touched him, not really, but you could swear there was the smallest sound of that sigh again through the modulator. Like he can feel you, so close, soft breath amplified, like he wants you close and even if it’s just in your imagination like before, your heart might burst at the simple sound.

You’re frozen in time, almost. Stuck. There’s the desperate cloying in you to do something.

And then, like everything else around you is forgotten, his gloved hand grazes against yours and slowly covers it. The tingling warmth extending from your hand up your arm and straight in to your soul.

Maybe you’re dreaming. Maybe you’re delusional.

Either way, you cannot stop the way the unbearable desire makes you turn your head, makes you brush your own soft lips against the same place on the cold metal covering his face. His hand grips yours tighter. You feel the aching longing in you begin to dissipate, just slightly but it’s like you’re allowed to breathe again.

The Mandalorian whimpers beautifully at the soft contact that isn’t really even true contact. He feels it, feels something, you can tell. You are closer than you’ve ever been and finally you find some sense of understanding. His words, his actions becoming clear to you in a hazy bloom that makes you catch your breath.

Perhaps he is your Mandalorian

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Can I request maybe a fluffy headcanon of Alois seeing Luka again ((the REAL luka)) through the help of his very Close Scientist Friend who did it as a surprise for him?..I just want to see those two children happy ;W;

Have a nice day/night/Dawn/afternoon/etc. ^^

aaaaaa my heart ;w;

you have a good one too!! <3

He doesn’t believe it at first. He can’t. It’s sort of hard for his friend to watch, maybe, because Alois’ initial reaction is to wonder why his mind is still torturing him. (… He sees Luka in his mind’s eye a lot. Sometimes he’s convinced he sees his brother in real life even though he knows it’s not possible. He definitely hallucinates Luka at times.) He tries very hard to ignore it in the beginning, convinced that it’s his mind playing a trick on him.

It only sinks in when suddenly Luka is holding him, overjoyed at being alive again and getting to see his big brother again. And then Alois is forced to accept the reality that his little brother is back, somehow, and it defies all logic but then again he’s never cared for logic anyway. A long time is spent just in each other’s arms, crying, hidden away from the rest of the world so they can reacquaint themselves with each other in private. Though, of course, (Name) is very welcome inside the manor anywhere they’d like.

There’s no way Alois can ever really thank them for this, is there? Every single idea that he comes up with to pay them back pales in comparison to someone literally raising the dead for their friend. At last, if (Name) just tells him they don’t need nor want anything in return, he simply decides that the best gift he could give them to show his gratitude is to continue being a good friend to them. “That’s why I wanted to do this for you in the first place, you know? Because you’re my friend. You’ve already paid me back a hundred times over just by loving me and being there for me.” H-he’s not crying, what are they talking about?!

While he doesn’t know the ins and outs of the whole process, he’s just glad he has his brother back… and that Luka is around the age he’s supposed to be. Though he would have been ecstatic either way, Alois is eternally grateful that Luka didn’t come back at the age he died. It would be endlessly awkward if Alois had grown up while Luka was still three years old when he came back. He’s not sure how (Name) did it; he’s just thankful he isn’t going to be babysitting!

… Is his life complete now? It might be. Sure, he doesn’t have a good set of parents or anything. Sure, Claude will probably never love him. Sure, the shroud of all his trauma still hang over him like ghosts in a funeral parlor. But… Alois has just gotten something back which he thought was lost forever ― his relationship with Luka, moving forward and evolving and his brother in his life again. As long as he has Luka and (Name) by his side, he thinks he can face anything, no matter how terrible.

[moviemunchies]

I admit that I have a lot of nostalgic attachment to this movie. Going to see it is one of my fond memories from my senior year of high school, and one of the few of those that I feel hasn’t been poisoned by later events in life.

Anyway, here’s Zombieland.

Meet Columbus! (The characters go by the name of their home city or where they’re trying to get back to, as they avoid using real names to avoid getting attached.) He’s a timid shut-in college student who somehow survived the zombie apocalypse thus far, in part because he’s created a strict list of survival rules that he follows religiously. He meets up with Tallahassee, a violent survivalist who loves killing zombies, and they decide to ride together. They are shortly after joined by Wichita and Little Rock, a duo of two sisters who have made it by betraying others. This unlikely group travels west to find the fabled Pacific Playland, a park supposedly without zombies, while trying to not die or not kill each other.

I think that this movie succeeds for three main reasons:

ONE: This movie hit during the zombie craze. Really, there was this time in pop culture when everyone would not shut up about zombies. They were everywhere, and this movie was able to capitalize on that pop culture obsession.

[I want to be clear that this movie doesn’t pull too many punches with the way zombies look. These are not clean zombies! They are scarred, wounded, bloody, and very often vomiting goop. It’s downright gross. So even though it’s mostly lighthearted, it’s not as if you think that the apocalypse depicted is pleasant in the slightest.]

TWO: This movie released during a time when R-rated comedies were still big. They still exist now, yeah, but mostly stick to streaming releases. Joy Ride came out in theaters this year, and look how it did. But over a decade ago, it seemed like these movies were always coming out.

THREE: It’s a darn good movie!

This movie is everything it sets out to be, I think. It’s a hilarious action comedy, while also being a post-apocalyptic drama with good action sequences, and also has great performances, AND well-written character development. That’s a tall order for a movie, and a lot wouldn’t be able to pull it off. But Zombieland did it! By gosh, they did it! 

I mean no, not everything hits perfectly. There’s a montage of the group driving which pretty much is the movie’s way of saying “They are bonding now!” which seems an awkward way to skip over development. But there are also scenes of them bonding, in ways that actually make a difference to the characters (Tallahassee teaching Little Rock to shoot comes to mind). So yes, it DID do the work to develop these characters, and I’m glad to see that it pays off in a satisfying way.

Amber Heard is in this movie. This isn’t really part of my review, but I didn’t realize this until fairly recently and thought it was an interesting tidbit.

Columbus is sort of the “Nerd Hero” that we saw a lot for a while in pop culture fiction, especially back when it was still assumed (by Hollywood, anyway) that nerds were all losers who had trouble talking to other people and played World of Warcraft all day. But I don’t know, this never really bothered me much with Columbus in this movie, because, well, he did survive the zombie apocalypse, didn’t he? He may be a shut-in, but his methods work because he’s approaching things logically. He’s not brave, he’s careful, and it works. It’s when he’s with other people that he has to push past those boundaries, but in a way that doesn’t require him to be completely stupid, just rethink his approach to things.

Worth noting: there’s a joke where Columbus says the best thing about the apocalypse is no Facebook? A couple of years later, the actor played Zuckerberg in The Social Network. Thought it was a bit amusing.

Do you remember back when Emma Stone was in everything? It was a bit weird; not bad, because she’s a good actress, but weird. Her role in this movie in particular is tricky, because it’s a character who keeps double-crossing our hero, and yet we’re still meant to like her in the end. That’s a hard balance to pull off! And yet she does it.

And of course, Woody Harrelson as Tallahassee. He’s kind of what makes this movie. He’s the character everyone I knew got attached to as they watched the film. He’s the most quotable, the most capable, and in a weird way the most sympathetic. Harrelson does a fantastic job with this role, and to me it’s one of the most memorable.

[Side note: there’s a line where Columbus says that Tallahassee looks like Yosemite Sam, and, uh… not really? Was this line written when the character was expected to be played by someone else?]

So see this movie! If you’re okay with watching our characters whaling on undead abominations, you’ll have great fun seeing Zombieland. I think it’s mostly aged well, and it’s great to see a movie that’s just allowed to be fun, not part of some larger universe or series. It’s just Zombieland, and that’s fine, and that’s great.

Though there was an attempt to make a TV series out of it, that never got past the pilot…

[i-didnt-do-1t]

SKITTERY HOLDING BLINK AND COMFORTIMG HIM

Skittery knows that he’s hardly the best at comforting people, Davey has a way of jumping straight to logic to help people solve their problems and Jack (although he would never admit it) has a way with words, and jokes and hope that makes all your problems seem small and irrelevant next to all the good things to come. Even Boots is pragmatic in his own sort of way and Mush cares so much he’ll not even ask what the problem is before he drags you outside and makes you do something to take your mind of whatever might be on it

Skittery… can be a bit of an asshole, if he’s honest.

He’s not great working with feelings. His own or someone else’s, but that’s not to say that he doesn’t care-

So here he is sat arm to arm with Blink in the empty lodging house and tryin to work out what the hell he should say.

“You wanna tell me why you’re uh-“ he doesn’t want to say crying, doesn’t want to point out the obvious, “upset?”

Blink aggressively rubs his red tinged eye with the back of his hand. “No.”

God Skittery wants a smoke. “Dave says it’s good to talk about your feelings if you don’t feel good.”

“You overheard Dave say that to Les last week, I ain’t 8.”

“So? Dave’s real smart, he’s probably right. And Tumbler says he feels better after he tells me about his nightmares.”

Blink shoots him a look at that and Skittery makes an effort to not stare at the tear tracks down his cheek.

“Again, the kid’s 8, Skits.”

“He’s 7 actually-“

“Shut up.”

Skittery shuts up.

Right, well the Davey method don’t seem to be working, and this is Blink, so maybe the Mush approach will have better results- Skittery stands suddenly, gripping Kid’s arm and pulling him up with him despite his protests

“The hell are you doing Skittery?”

The fact that Blink is getting whiny instead of angry is a good thing probably because it means somehow (and they have no idea how, Race has put a bet on how long it will take) Skittery is still reigning champion in not having a black eye courtesy of Kid himself.

“We’re going out for a smoke. Can’t have you moping inside all day.”

“Yeah, like you’re one to talk.”

Blink rubs at his eye again in a weak attempt to get rid of any evidence of tears as Skittery takes the steps two at a time, and whips out two cigarettes from his pocket in one hand and a match box in the other, tossing them to Blink.

Blink rolls his eyes but sits on the stairs out the front of the lodging house all the same, breathing in smoke as Skittery’s lights the end his own cigarette.

The rain is coming down in waves, and the doorway provides just enough protection from it.

Skittery blows out a cloud from where he leans in the doorway and glances down at Blink, nudging him with his foot,

Kid sends a glare his way, but it’s hard to take the look seriously with his red rimmed eye.

“What?” He says, voice flat.

Skittery shrugs a shoulder, inhales smoke, gazes out into the square. “Sometimes you just gotta smoke and be miserable right?”

A quiet almost laugh, half scoff interrupts the rain as Blink rolls his eye, shaking his head slightly as he taps ash off his smoke. “I think that’s the most Skittery thing I’ve ever heard you say in your life.”

But it seems to be working.

Skittery blows smoke and frowns in thought, maybe he does have his own way of comforting people.

[cosmicjoke]

Idk, I believe I do, I red it, just didn't like it all that much. But, bro, holy shit, "you are judging him by today's standards" yeah, of course I do, because the context of time applies to the year of release, not the setting. He beats Eren more than once, the "to save his life" excuse doesn't apply to any shoving, pushing, intimidating, insulting and punching out ten of his teeth, because he dared to touch a syringe box. Yeah, "manhandled" by throttling. It doesn't matter what word you use to describe it, he still forcefully grabbed her by her neck. And no, "just physical discipline" does not apply, if the one you're disciplining is a fifteen year old under your legal care. That's abuse. Always and in literally any context. By that logic, Annie's father did nothing wrong either, because, back in the day, everyone would beat their kids. And not you saying that a twelve year old can volunteer to be a soldier, that's literally insane, c'monnnn 😭😭😭. Not even AoT itself stooped that low and somewhat criticized this mindset with Falco and Gabi. But you are right, I should probably leave, because, holy fuck. Have a good day, I genuinely hope you come around and stop praising military, one day.

You’re an unbelievable fool. I’m not praising shit, I’m giving context to Levi’s actions because, I don’t know if you can wrap your tiny brain around this, context and intention MATTER. You take Levi’s actions out of context to make him seem like something he’s not. And no, you can’t judge people of the past by todays standards. You have to judge them based on what was socially acceptable during their time. You must be 12 years old yourself not to know that.

Also, Levi didn’t grab Historia by the neck, he grabbed her by the collar. He punched Eren because he was directly interfering with the chain of command and wasting time. Eren was a soldier and he was directly disobeying a superior officer. Not child abuse. Jean isn’t under Levi’s “legal care” as if he’s some minor. He isn’t a “ward” as you tried to say. He’s a certified and trained soldier. Levi is his commanding officer. Just because the legal age for becoming a soldier in the US or wherever is now 18, we’re talking about a completely different time and culture. Obviously what was considered an adult in Paradis doesn’t match the standards of now, but to blame that on Levi and no one else shows your stupid ass bias. It was the system in place, one which Levi had no power to change. He was pressed into service himself, you jackass. But somehow it’s completely his fault for working with what soldiers they had. I guess he should have just quit, huh? Oh except he couldn’t because, again, he was pressed into service and him running away would only have accomplished all of their lives being placed in greater danger. And yes, they DID volunteer, regardless of age, and they chose what division they wanted to join at 15. Old enough in many countries to this day to be considered an adult. Your world view is obviously painfully limited. But then, you can’t even spell read correctly.

Again, you fool, you’re taking Levi’s actions out of context to make it seem like he was just randomly beating the shit out of helpless children for no reason, and again I repeat, you’re doing so erroneously to push your warped and negative narrative of who Levi is. You’re right, you should just fuck off now, because you aren’t worth anyone’s time with you’re misplaced and exaggerated sense of moral superiority. Send me any more messages, and they’ll go straight into the trash, so don’t even bother, you moronic clown.

[cynicalrainbows]

Yellowjackets no-crash au. Shauna's having the best time ever at Brown and she doesn't miss Jackie anyone at all.

*

 The money is sticky in her hand as she carries the pregnancy test to the counter. Students, clutching packets of ramen and jars of instant coffee, crowd around her, bumping gently against one another like the bubbles of lava in her dorm room lamp, the lamp that she’d picked out so defiantly, no Jackie no one to tell me it’s the sort of thing potheads buy, no one to put me down, I’m free, I’m free, I’m-

(In fact, no one commented on the lamp at all, not even her roommate, not even when she’d balanced it precariously on the edge of her desk to make it more visible, and it had ended up buried at the back of her closet, behind the uniform that had somehow inexplicably made its way into her suitcase.)

She gets into line behind a boy with a boombox blasting out an account of the life of Robespierre balanced precariously on his shoulder and a girl whose every movement makes her jelly shoes squeak unbearably against the linoleum.

They don’t even look at her but Shauna tries to hide the package in her hand anyway.

It’s probably nothing. It’s nothing. But just to be sure…

She used to use the same reasoning on Jackie back then, back before: Oh I know you totally don’t have a migraine….but you should take an aspirin anyway. Oh I know you’re not tired and definitely don’t need a break…..but come sit with me anyway. Oh I know that you totally ate breakfast this morning….but if you don’t eat this cereal bar, it’s going to go all crumbly in my bag so just eat it.

Shauna wonders if she can logic away her Schrodinger's foetus- if I don’t take a pregnancy test, that means I’m in denial and then I’ll definitely  BE pregnant, but if I take one now…..

The Jackie-in-her-head snorts and rolls her eyes before Shauna can remember not to think about her.

No. Go away. Go back to Rutgers. Or don’t. Not that I care.

The cashier wrinkles her nose as Shauna counts the coins out onto the counter.

She hasn’t carried money like this- in her hand, all the way from her dorm room- for years, not since she’d tripped on the curb outside the grocery store on Saturday afternoon and her carefully saved allowance quarters went rolling wildly and neither she nor Jackie had been able to reach far enough under the car to retrieve the couple that hadn’t simply vanished.

‘Told you you should have put it in a purse.’ Jackie doesn’t say it meanly,but the fact that her own allowance money is still safe inside the zippable Hello Kitty pouch that half the girls in their grade, Shauna included, are currently lusting after is enough to make Shauna consider accidentally-on-purpose tripping her.

‘I don’t have a purse.’

She won’t. Obviously. 

‘I thought you were going to ask your mom for one?’

‘She said they were too expensive.’

Jackie strokes Hello Kitty’s pristine white fur.

‘Oh.’

But just as she’s edging ever so slightly too close, her feet just ever so slightly clumsier than usual, Jackie stops abruptly, unhooks the strap from around her shoulder and scrabbles up a handful of coins.

‘You can have this one.’

She’s walking again already, carefully stuffing the coins in the pocket of her shorts, glancing back to Shauna.

‘Come on! My mom said you can’t sleep over if we’re not back in time for dinner!’

Shauna’s left standing still, Hello Kitty now limp in her hands. Somehow it’s lost its magic, now that it’s in her possession: she knows without having to see it happen that the fur will grey and the zip will stick. It’s not the same, it’s not the same and it’s not fair: not fair that Jackie could give it up so easily, not fair it’s always that way round (when has Jackie ever wanted anything of Shauna’s, when has anyone?), it’s not fair that doing this sort of thing seems to come to Jackie so easily, and it’s not fair that Shauna can’t just feel happy and grateful like a normal person would….

But it’s not Jackie’s fault and when she catched up, she hugs her hard enough to make Jackie squeak and proclaims her the best friend ever.

And it’s totally, absolutely, definitely an accident that Jackie trips on the curb on the way home.

When she gets back to her dorm, her room is thick with the fug of hairspray as she teases her limp blonde tresses into a painstakingly crafted ‘casual’ messy ponytail.

‘Hey.’

Shauna stows the paper bag carefully in her bedside drawer, layeringing hand cream and hair ties onto it until she realises that if she was going for ‘inconspicuous’, she’s failed.

Not that it matters- when she looks up, her roommate isn’t even looking in her direction.

‘Are you going out?’

‘Yeah.’ At last, she turns around from the dressing table. ‘You can come if you want.’

It’s not the most enthusiastic invitation in the world, and Shauna has enough pride to recognise a pity invite.

‘Nah, I was going to-’

What? What were you going to do after you finish peeing on a stick? Celebrate not having Jackie anyone to drag you to parties by staying home alone? Make another list in your journal about how great your life is, now that the only person making you feel invisible is you?

But it doesn’t matter. Her roommate isn’t listening.

[mikuni14]

Moonlight Chicken Ep4

New episode. WOW. This Alan-Wen situation is such a mess😁 - Wen says he broke up with Alan - but he still lives with him, they eat breakfast together, sleep in the same bed, but on each other's sides, no touching! (omg lol), Wen still has photos of them together at work - people close to him all think they are together and Wen never corrects them. Everyone advises him to end his old relationship before starting a new one, Wen is always nonchalant, like "whatever" when he hears it, he acts like the advice doesn't apply to him - Alan thinks they're together. He fights for Wen and their relationship, is clearly distressed and upset - So... ??????? Are they together or not????????

Like, I KNOW we still don't know much about Alan and their relationship, but I just can't help but feel sorry for him (and Jim) and kind of dislike Wen 😋 - first of all, Jim confides in Wen, tells him about his problems, about his past. Wen never repays him with the same. I WOULD FORGIVE HIM A LOT if Wen had told him about his love life, ESPECIALLY after he found out about Jim and his cheating partner. But Wen has never mentioned Alan, not even once, he tells VERY little about himself. It seems to me that Jim would accept him sooner and give him a chance if he knew who Wen is. - Wen is extremely unpleasant and snappy towards Alan, although maybe he has a reason. But at this moment it just looks bad and unnecessary - Wen is always indifferent when Alan’s name comes up in conversations, even Gong is more concerned about him. Even in the conversations that indirectly relate to this horrible love triangle (Jim's love story, Jim's talk about the movie’s plot) Wen doesn't act as if he has any reflections, although there are obvious parallels. It's as if Wen didn't even notice the mess, the hurt that are caused because of his actions.  - this gives me the weird impression that Wen is completely convinced that nothing bad is happening. That he's not doing anything wrong because he broke up with Alan, even though everyone around him, including Alan, thinks they're together (???). Also that he’s a good option for Jim, all the time while coming back home to another man in his bed (but it’s fine, because remember! no touching! lmao)

This is so weird. And I don't know, but somehow the cheating trope seemed more sensible and logical to me, better executed in silly little series like Together With Me and Love Mechanics :D

There were two AMAZING scenes in this episode: - Jim's fight with Li Ming. Jim NEVER crosses the line, shows no anger, despite Li Ming's aggressive behavior. The way he stops Li Ming and how he can "tame" him is amazing (and kind of hot). How many parents and guardians would not refrain from forcing a child's obedience by force, with violence? - Li Ming trying to get as much information as possible about how to take care of a deaf person, how to provide them with the greatest possible comfort and support. Li Ming putting someone else first. These things ALWAYS affect me deeply. Li Ming, who has a lot of problems himself, is able to put it aside and take care of someone else, see how HE can adapt to Heart, not how Heart to him. The purity of this feeling is beautiful and very touching - and I'm not even talking about romantic love here. There is something that this wonderful boy with all his troubles and misfortunes found in himself that Heart's parents couldn’t.🥺

- obviously all scenes with First Alan were superb✨

Anyway, I adore Li Ming, the perfect boy, who is perfect. I feel sorry for Jim and Alan, Heart is somehow set aside in the series and overwhelmed by Li Ming's charisma and expressiveness. Also I honestly don't like Wen, sorry guys :P