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willowpains · 1 year

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DON’T STOP THE MUSIC

pairing: drew starkey x fem. reader!

summary: cast member reader goes out with the obx cast to a bar

warnings: mentions of alcohol, drinking, being tipsy

disclaimer: inspired by don’t stop the music by rihanna, the song always makes me daydream!

it was friday night, and after wrapping up filming for the day in Charleston, mostly everyone in the cast had decided that going out for drinks in town sounded like a solid plan, so after everyone gathered their things they split into cars to drive downtown into a bar JD had heard good things about.

you were in Austin’s car, and while he was driving, drew was sitting in the seat next to him, and left to chat and be the life of the drive where madelyn, madison and yourself in the back of the car.

you guys couldn’t stop laughing, making jokes and singing to the songs on the radio like you were all doing karaoke, and the boys in front of you just keep laughing and singing with you three.

every now and then drew would look back and lock eyes with you, sending you a playful wink or replying to a joke you made. this was something normal in your friendship, so it wasn’t something weird for your friends, even though they saw that the way you two acted was as if you two were more than friends.

but that was not the case, you two had instantly kicked it off, even though you had different personalities, that didn’t seem like a problem for you to become close and have a fun time whenever you were together.

at first, you were intimidated by drew. getting to be the new cast member in a show were everyone else already knew each other was hard, and then, when you realized that the person you needed to have more chemistry for the sake of your character was tall, handsome and with a sarcastic personality, it was safe to say you were scared.

but you quickly realized that everyone was really nice and welcoming, as well as getting to know drew and finding out that he was the sweetest man you had probably encountered. he always made sure you felt comfortable with him in every scene, cause even though his character was pretty violent, he always wanted to make sure you knew that it was all an act, and I mean, you two were great actors, and made a great match in the show.

so your friendship in real life was not something that came as a surprise to anybody, you had most of your scenes with him the first few days, so rehearsing and going through lines together was an everyday thing. and thats how you became an iconic duo, as the fans would call you two.

arriving at the bar, everyone gathered around at a table and ordered drinks, starting to chat and laugh at the jokes and funny stories from set everyone was sharing.

“y/n, we should do tequila shots!” madelyn suddenly gasped grabbing your arm, as she was seated next to you.

“that’s the best thing I’ve heard all night!” you answered looking at her “who’s down for some tequila shots?” you shouted so everyone could hear, and immediately approving noises were heard.

“we’re starting out strong huh?” drew asked, as he was seated next to you, sipping on his bear.

“we’re not wasting any time which is different” you smiled to him as you saw the waiter approach with many shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“then I guess we should get to it”

Drew got up and started pouring the alcohol on every glass, handing one to everyone as we all cheered.

“to great friendships and an awesome filming season!” chase shouted as we all cheered and clashed our shots together.

before i could take my shot, drew took my arm and tangled it with his so we could drink our shots together.

“we need to do it this way” he said as he finished crossing both our arms while we stood face to face holding our shot glasses.

“says who?” I asked laughing enjoying the dynamic way too much, as well as liking to have him that close to me.

“everyone knows it, this is the right way to do shots!” he shouted as he raised his hand a little ready to drink.

“let’s do it then”

I smiled before we both downed our shots at the same time.

after a few more rounds of shots, french fries and sloppy drinking from the bottle, people around started dancing and letting loose, which made us want to join the fun.

plus, the alcohol in our system definitely made us more confident than usual.

madelyn and chase were the first ones on the dance floor, while the rest of us stayed drinking and eating at the table, watching them like they were part of a rom com.

after a few songs had passed, drew stood up next to me and offered me his hand.

“let’s dance” he said as he gave me a smile.

he knew I couldn’t say no. not when he looked at me like that.

I quickly took his hand as he guided us to the dance floor, where everyone was singing and jumping up and down, moving to the rhythm of the songs.

i was glad the lights were dim, because the blush on my cheeks was something that I couldn’t hide, not when the alcohol made me react to him like it always happened.

Do you know what you started? I just came here to party, but now we're rockin' on the dance floor, actin' naughty

around us, everyone was dancing, and staying apart was difficult, so we found ourselves dancing very close to each other. not that we would’ve liked it any other way.

“I didn’t know you liked dancing” i shouted a little, getting close to him so he could hear me over the music, which was a lot louder in the dance floor.

he smiled while letting out a laugh.

“I’m not the biggest fan, but I know you do love doing it” he answered leaning down as he took my hand and gave me a little spin making me giggle.

lord did he make me feel some type if way.

“so if I told you I love going to the beach and swimming in the ocean at midnight, would you come with me?” I asked getting closer to him, looking into his eyes.

he smirked while he let out a small laugh, leaning down on my ear.

“I would go anywhere with you, even if you didn’t ask me to”

Your hands around my waist just let the music play, we’re hand in hand, chest to chest, and now we're face to face

his hands held me by the waist, while we swayed slowly side to side, trying not to stay still in between the sea of bodies jumping up and down to the music around us.

my hands went from resting on his chest, to around his neck, letting them hang on his back, making us closer than ever.

i could feel his gaze on my lips, as I couldn’t tear my eyes from his, being fully captivated by the blue color, that seemed darker under the lights in the bar.

“I really wanna kiss you right now” drew said as one of his hands went from my waist to my cheek, brushing some of the hair out of my face.

I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or the adrenaline of him telling me that, but i was scared that he could hear or feel how fast my heart was beating, almost wanting to get out and answer for myself.

“and what’s stopping you?” it almost felt like a whisper, but his smile gave away that he had listened to me.

so he closed the distance between us.

his lips were soft and hungry at the same time, like he had been waiting to do that for a long time. and i wouldn’t be surprised, because this was something i had found myself daydreaming of a few times.

one of his hands still held me by the waist, as the other one was between my cheek and my neck, keeping our faces together, and i didn’t want us to pull apart.

how long can someone survive without breathing? I’d be willing to find out.

Don't you feel the passion ready to explode? what goes on between us no one has to know, this is a private show

after breaking the kiss, i rested my head in his chest, attempting to hide my smile while trying to catch my breath.

“oh don’t go shy on me now doll” he said as he slowly lifted my face with one of his hands, softly stroking my cheek.

his eyes softened as his smile took over most of his face, and he laughed a little when he saw my flustered state.

“will it make you feel better if I told you that i had been wanting to do that for a long time?” he said as he looked me in the eyes.

drew just couldn’t let me compose myself.

“now you’re just bluffing” i said as i hit him in the chest in a playful way.

he laughed with me in between his arms, as i placed my hands in his chest, looking up to him with a smile on my face.

“did you really never noticed how down bad i was for you?” he asked as his arms kept holding me close to him.

I smiled as I confidently stood on the tips of my toes and kissed him again, this one being a bit shorter that the other one.

he smiled looking to the side trying to hide his now rising blush.

“I guess i thought something a couple of times, but i didn’t wanted to disappoint myself, it could’ve all been in my head” I said honestly.

drew turned to look at me, and we stayed like that for a bit, staring at each other, being close, and soaking in what had just happened between us.

“well, for the record, this is real” he said motioning to us “and it was never in your head”

drew leaned down and pecked my lips.

“let’s get out of here” he took my hand in between his as we started walking towards the exit.

“what about the rest?” I asked trying to find them in the now crowded bar, while we headed to the door.

“they’ll figure it out” he laughed as we were now on the parking lot.

“and where are we going?” my eyes locked with his, that shined under the moonlight.

drew smiled while he held me between his arms.

“I’m taking you for a swim at midnight, just like you wanted”.

*I loved this one<3

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whatiswrongwithpeople · 8 months

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Traps || A Mark Hoffman x f!reader SMUT

Summary: Mark Hoffman and (Y/N) hate each other , but what happens when tinkering on traps in the same workshop leads leads to spicy tension?

Warnings: NSFW, hate sex, degrading/explicit language, only one partner being fully nude , Mark Hoffman’s temper

Note: Hello my fellow Big Bad Hoffman enthusiasts, this is my very first smut piece (as in ever) and I really hope it’s not too bad. I’ve read over it a couple of times and hope there aren’t any major mistakes.

Have fun reading ✨

“What do you want?” the deep grumble of Mark Hoffman’s voice vibrates through the room of the warehouse, as (Y/N) enters the room. “Certainly nothing from you.” She rolls her eyes, already annoyed by the man’s presence, as she walks over to the shelves across the table that Hoffman is working at. “I was in the middle of something important.” the man grumbles, looking up from the contraption he was currently tinkering on. She huffs, ignoring the man as she roams through the shelf in front of her. “Have you seen my blueprints anywhere?” Not lifting his gaze from the piece of metal he was currently securing, he gestures to the shelves. “Check your bloody work area. I’m not your secretary.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, the woman pauses her movements. “You know, if you’d answer me like a fucking decent human being, I’d be out of your way much quicker.” (Y/N) grumbles, shoving a box of scrap metal aside.

A few moments pass, before (Y/N) spots her blueprints on the very top of the shelf, leading her to mutter a string of curse words under her breath. The young woman turns around, pointing to the chair next to Hoffman. “Do you need that?” Mark pauses for a moment and shrugs his shoulders before he mutters a simple “Suit yourself.” Stepping over to the table, she wordlessly grabs the chair and drags it back to the shelf before climbing onto it in order to reach for her blueprints. “I’m gonna kill whoever put those up here,” she mutters, struggling to pull one of the prints out from underneath a box. A spark of amusement twinkles in Mark’s otherwise deadpan expression as he watches his fellow apprentice struggling to get what she wants. Cold, hungry eyes travelling up and down her body as she stretches to reach the blueprints, Hoffman suddenly finds himself grateful for whoever has moved her stuff to the top shelf, enjoying the view in front of him.

Feeling his gaze on her (Y/N) looks over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes at the man, before turning back around and opening one of the blueprints in order to inspect it. Hoffman decides to wait a moment before speaking in a mocking tone “Your temper is rather volatile.” Keeping her focus on the blueprint she murmurs “Thanks asshole.” “No problem, love.” the detective replies in a snarky tone, before picking up his tools again to continue working on his trap.

Ignoring the man and the feeling caused by the petname, she steps down from the chair, spreading the prints on top of the table to get a better overview of them. God, she couldn’t stand Mark Hoffman.

“You know, “ his voice interrupts the silence “It’s rude to ignore someone.” Looking up from her blueprint of a hand-trap, she meets Mark’s arrogant, smug expression. “Rude? No. Actually ignoring you is a really REALLY blissful experience.” she hums. “Is that so?” the mocking tone in his voice is as prominent as ever “Is it also a blissful experience being a fucking brat all the time?” he snarks.

“I don’t know, tell me about it.” (Y/N) shrugs nonchalantly, grabbing a pen to make some corrective notes on her design. “You’re an insufferable bitch. Maybe Kramer will realise that and kill you off first.” The detective snarks back at her.

“I hope your death will be swift and painful,” he remarks to himself under his breath. “Oh, believe me” (Y/N) retorts as she gathers some mechanical pieces from the shelf behind her. “Nothing could ever be more painful than having to share a workspace with you.” Mark Hoffman’s eyes watch the young woman like a wolf hunting for prey, his fist clenching around the screwdriver in his hand, as his frustration with her builds up. “God you’re infuriating…” He continues working on his contraption and mutters something. “...annoying little slut” being the only words she catches.

Tired of the man’s antics, (Y/N) slams her equipment down onto the table, looking over at Hoffman with fury burning in her eyes. “You're unbelievable, you know that?" (Y/N) seethes, gaze burning into Mark Hoffman's figure. "You can't just go around hurling insults like that and expect me to take it lying down." Hoffman meets her gaze with a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Oh, I'm well aware of what I can and can't do," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. "But it's not like you make it easy to get along with you, behaving like such a bitch all the time."(Y/N) takes a deep breath, trying to calm her rising anger. She knows that she should just ignore him, focus on her work, and get through this collaboration without any more unnecessary drama. But something about Detective Mark Hoffman just gets under her skin like no one else.

"Look," she says, her tone somewhat calmer but still laced with irritation, "we're stuck here together, whether we like it or not. We both work for Kramer and in doing so we have somewhat of a mutual understanding. Can we at least try and be somewhat civil, so he doesn’t come for our heads?"

Hoffman seems to consider her words for a moment, and then he lets out a begrudging sigh. "Fine," he mutters, finally releasing the screwdriver he'd been clutching. "I suggest you start working on your trap. I don’t want to be around you for much longer." (Y/N) smirks, satisfied that she's at least made a small dent in his armour of arrogance. "Likewise," she replies, turning back to her blueprint and resuming her work. As the tension between the two persists, the air in the dimly lit workshop crackles with a strange energy.

Their exchanges alternate between moments of begrudging cooperation and stinging sarcasm. The attraction they feel toward each other simmers just below the surface, an unspoken truth neither is willing to acknowledge. However, the more they try to fight it, the more it intensifies. It's a dangerous game they're playing, one that could lead to unforeseen consequences.

Hours pass, and the traps they've been designing near completion. Hoffman’s rugged confidence and the air of danger that surrounds him ignite a forbidden curiosity in (Y/N). She can’t help but steal glances at him when she thinks he’s not looking, admiring the way his muscles flex as he handles the tools. His hands move with precision as he assembles the final components, and for a brief moment, she finds herself captivated by his expertise. She despises herself for being attracted to someone so incredibly insufferable.

Hoffman, on the other hand, can't deny the way (Y/N)'s dedication to her work is both impressive and alluring. He's never met anyone who can infuriate him to this extent yet simultaneously arouse his curiosity. Her intelligence and determination draw him in, even as her stubbornness drives him mad, it awakens something deep inside him, something he thought he’d buried long ago. He’s drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Putting the tools in his hands back into the tool box with a loud clang, Hoffman suddenly leans over the table, his voice low and dangerously close to (Y/N)’s ear as he examines her contraption. “You know,” he begins, the low rumble of his voice and the feeling of his breath on her skin sending shivers down her spine, “you have a way of pushing people’s buttons.”

(Y/N) grits her teeth, trying to ignore the effect his proximity has on her. “I could say the same about you.” she retorts, her voice equally low. Hoffman smirks at that. “I find this never-ending game of cat and mouse rather….exciting.” There is a dangerous glint in his eyes. (Y/N) scoffs but can’t deny the truth in his words. “Exciting, huh?” she raises her brow “More like infuriating.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching” he whispers, voice laced with arrogance, lips dangerously close to her ear. “Yeah keep dreaming, Hoffman.” she glares at him, eyes filled with anger and something else she refuses to admit. “This is ridiculous,” Hoffman mutters, this time with a different tone in his voice.

Before (Y/N) can ask what he means, Mark has rounded the table in a sudden urgency, yanking her head towards him by the neck and slamming his lips onto hers in a heated kiss. (Y/N) responds instinctively, her anger melting into desire as their mouths battle for dominance that neither is willing to concede. (Y/N) can feel the edge of the table pressing into her back as Mark traps her beneath his body, making her bend backwards onto the cold metal. The sheer sight of her body trapped beneath his seems to fuel Hoffman’s desire even further, a dark look of hunger in his gaze, as his hand grabs her throat, roughly pushing her down onto the table. His eyes focusing on her chest, as her breasts bounce with the movement. A surprised moan escapes her mouth at the action, her back arching as it gets pressed into the cold metal, making Hoffman’s eyes snap back up at her. “Fuck, you look so good with my hand around your throat.” the dangerously low grumble of his voice making her feel the heat pool in her abdomen, leading her to clench her thighs together. Noticing her arousal Hoffman squeezes her throat a little tighter, whilst his other hand sneaks under her shirt, groping at her breast. “God, you’re such a filthy slut. Coming in here in those tight clothes , showing your curves off to me like an attention whore.” Hoffman’s hand yanks (Y/N)’s shirt up, a low, animalistic grunt leaving his throat as he sees her nipples stiffening through her bra.

“Took you long enough to do something about it.” (Y/N) smirks, seeing his the outline of his erection through his pants, she decides to play a dangerous game. Opening her mouth and lowering her jaw a little, she lets her tongue trace over the thumb resting on her jawline as Hoffman’s is still gripping her throat, before sucking on it gently, all the while looking up at him through her lashes. “Fuck.” the detective grunts as his dark gaze watches her mesmerized. Noticing Hoffman’s mesmerized state, (Y/N) dares to make her move, fingers travelling up and down his hand which had previously groped her breast, before swiftly yanking it to the side.

The metallic click echoing through the room, breaks Hoffman out of his daze, furious eyes snapping to his right hand which he now finds to be locked into the trap, (Y/N) had been working on all night long. “You fucking bitch.” he bellows, voice seething with fury. “I’ve decided it’s my turn now” she smirks at the man, sitting up on the table. “Don’t worry.” her voice is low and seductive as she whispers into Hoffman’s ear. “I don’t think it’s fully functioning yet.” she playfully bites his earlobe, before pushing him backwards into the chair behind him. “Your a worthless brat.” he hisses, his free hand trying to pull the other out of the glove-like metal contraption,on the table.

“Hmm.” (Y/N) hums , taking off her shirt painfully slow “Does big bad Hoffman suddenly not like to play games anymore?” Her hand wanders up the trapped arm, before wandering to his chest, as she gets off of the table and straddles the detective’s lap. “And here I thought we were finally having fun working together.” She purposefully rocks her hips, feeling his hardened cock underneath her. Another low growl leaves Hoffman, as his free hand grabs a fist full of her hair, yanking her head back before attacking her exposed neck with his mouth.Sloppy kisses trailing up and down the soft flesh. He singlehandedly opens her bra with expertise, ripping the garment off her body. “I fucking hate you, little brat.” Mark snarls , hungrily sucking one of her breasts into his mouth, twirling her nipple with his tongue, whilst his free arm encircles her waist, holding her against him. “You’re such a bastard, Mark Hoffman.” she moans, hand gripping his hair, as she presses his face further into her chest. With her other hand (Y/N) reaches down to unbuckle his belt, earning a bite from the man.

"Bastard" she repeats again, trying to sound angry but failing miserably as arousal floods her body. She bites her lip as her hand slides into his pants, feeling the size of his erection. Pulling her body from his hungry mouth, (Y/N) slides from his lap, positioning herself on her knees between his legs. Her mouth already watering at the thought of what she is about to do. (Y/N) looks up at Mark’s eyes and smirks, taking control. Slowly, she moves closer, licking and kissing her way down his throbbing shaft. Each gentle touch sending vibrations through her body. As she takes him deeper into her mouth, Mark groans loudly, unable to hold back. His hand clenching the back of her head, desperately wanting more.”Why don’t you use those perfect tits of yours?” Mark grunts out between pants, pulling (Y/N)’s head back a little to look her in the eyes, before his intense gaze follows the string of salvia, running down from her swollen lips onto her chin. Enjoying the feeling of dominance over the detective, (Y/N) doesn't allow him to take over though, pulling out of his grasp suddenly. Leaving him on edge.

“You don’t always get everything you want.” she purrs, leaning back in to lick the length of his erection in a painfully slow manner.

When suddenly Hoffman’s hand forcefully grips her hair again, yanking her head back once more. Mark’s voice is dangerously low as he speaks, leaning down towards her “See, this is where you’re wrong, princess.” The name leaves his mouth in a threatening hiss when suddenly he pulls his trapped hand free and yanks (Y/N) upwards. He had figured out how to escape the trap way earlier, but the sight of his competitor taking him into her mouth tempted him to hang on and play pretend for just a little longer. Enjoying the sight of her trying to dominate him. “Seems as if that little trap of yours does indeed still need improvements. If you behave like a good girl, I might teach you a trick or two.” The detective’s arrogant gaze shamelessly travels up and down her body.

“And why would I behave like a good girl for you?” (Y/N)’s snarl is mixed with arousal as she glares back up at him, feeling the increasing wetness between her thighs as Mark’s eyes roam her naked form. “Because, “ the man shoves a hand between her legs, calloused fingers pushing her panties aside and boldly slipping into her entrance, making the woman let out a strangled moan, “I always get what I want.” he states matter-of-factly, pulling his fingers out of her and examining them. “God, look how fucking wet you are already. You’re such a whore.”

Before (Y/N) can open her mouth for a witty comeback, the detective has already

spun her around and bent over the table. Pinning her wrists on the small of her back. Hoffman wastes no time as he rips her panties off, lining his cock up with her entrance without hesitation. (Y/N)’s breath becomes shaky as she arches her back and pushes her ass up in anticipation, her tits pressing further into the cold metal table. His tip shortly teases her entrance, before he forcefully slams into her. “Fuck, Marks-” she blurts before a filthy moan interrupts her own phrase, as Mark fully pulls out of her dripping cunt only to roughly plunge into her again. All control leaves Mark's body when he hears his name coming from her lips over the wet sounds of her pussy and her lustful moans. His hips slam into hers, and the sound of skin hitting skin fills the cold, dimly lit workshop.

"You always come here thinking you're better than I am or that you can play games with me, but now look at you letting me fuck you completely exposed on a table and not even being able to form coherent sentences because you've never been fucked by a man's cock like you are by mine.” Hoffman's voice sounds almost animalistic next to her ear as he presses into her back, groaning against her skin. (Y/N)’s eyes roll back as her walls flutter around his cock in response to his words, she finds herself at a complete loss for words, overwhelmed and almost drooling by the sensation of the detective burring himself balls-deep into her dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” Mark rasps out, beads of sweat rolling down his temples “Do you know how many times I’ve fucked myself to the thought of seeing you all desperate for me like this?”

(Y/N) whimpers as she pushes her hips back into him, enticing another lewd groan from Hoffman. He was still hunched over her back, grunting near her ear, as his cock hits all the deepest spots inside her. “Make me cum, Hoffman.” she breathes, the friction in her cunt becoming almost unbearable. “Only because you behaved so well, princess.” Hoffman husks, straightening himself, his thrusts picking up in pace. “Oh fuck Mark!” (Y/N) cries out in loud ecstasy, her jaw almost going slack as her climax takes over, eyes rolling to the back of her head and knees almost buckling as her body spasms and she continues to moan in sheer pleasure. Mark makes a strangled sound, the sight of (Y/N) cumming with him inside her making his cock throb.

His hand rears back slapping her ass, as her sensitive cunt clenches around him. He keeps ramming into her mercilessly as she rides out her high, murmuring incoherent slurs behind gritted teeth. (Y/N) was sure that her upper body would leave an imprint on the metal table if Mark kept up the force of his thrusts any longer. With a primal grunt and stuttered breath, the detective reaches his climax, thrusts becoming more sloppy as he releases inside her.

For a moment both of them are silently trying to catch their breath before Mark pulls out of (Y/N), smirking at the sight of his cum dripping down her thighs.

The sound of a zipper and belt buckle snaps (Y/N) out of their dizzy state. She straightens up, her eyes wandering over the sweaty print left on the table as a testament to Hoffman's and her little escapade.

Collecting her clothes, she turns to Mark as she begins to dress herself. “This changes nothing.” The man raises a brow at her. “I still hate you.” she states, grabbing a piece of cloth from the shelf behind him to wipe down the table.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from a brat like you.” Mark answers nonchalantly as he pulls a screwdriver from the toolbox "Now let me show you how to improve that pathetic trap of yours."

(Y/N) couldn't help but smirk at Mark's retort. As Mark began to work on the trap, he explained his modifications in detail, his hands deftly moving as he made adjustments. The woman watched him intently, despite her attempts to maintain an air of indifference. She couldn’t deny that their rivalry had a strange way of bringing them together.

#detective mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman smut #mark hoffman imagine #saw franchise #saw smut #SAW movies x reader #saw x reader #saw fanfic #mark hoffman fanfic

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tetsuskei · 3 months

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‘too-too’ - kuroo tetsurō [fluff]

notes: repost. also inspired by work (yay capitalism) and self indulgent. wrote this for a piece of mind, if you will.

warnings: toxic work habits, etc, bad title names, not edited completely

word count: 1.4k

“is everything alright?”

your eyes snap up to your coworker, kuroo tetsurō. he leans against your cubicle. tall, muscular figure moving to look down at you with concern.

you blink, fingers pausing their movements over your keys. “what do you mean?”

kuroo is a strange individual. he’s funny, and nerdy, and a little clumsy sometimes (you’ve seen him burn his hand one too many times with hot coffee). but he has a good heart. one probably made of gold. he’s always genuine when it comes to his actions.

“i’ve just been noticing the boss has been piling a lot of work on you as of lately…i didn’t know if maybe you were overwhelmed.” he suggests, shrugging. he stuffs his hands in his pockets and peers over to the stack of files on your desk. “that all need to get done today?”

you sigh, running your hand through your hair, “no, but they will need to by the end of the week. i can handle it all though, with a couple of late nights. i appreciate your concern, kuroo.” you send him a weak smile.

at work you’re known as the one who can handle anything and everything with no complaints. your boss seems to hold you in high regards to it, coworkers are jealous of your ability, and your family has always been proud of how hardworking you are.

the only problem is, people take advantage of this. they ask for your help on minor things, interrupt you when you’re clearly busy, or assume you’ll have the time and tell your boss you’ll take care of it (without your notice).

kuroo is one of the only people who doesn’t do that. he genuinely comes up to you for conversation and asks about you. he’s taken you out to lunch (usually by force to drag you away from your work), brought you coffee, and always made sure you’re okay.

you don’t want to say his actions have caused a small crush to develop, but you’d be a horrible, horrible liar. after spending so much time with him, you begin to see just how handsome his features are. how sharp and angular his jawline and cheekbones are, how he laughs and has dimples appear, how his hazel eyes sparkle with mischief whenever he tells a (horrible) joke—

suddenly fingers are snapping in front of you and you’re brought back to the present.

“you sure you’re good?” kuroo looks down at you with concern and you feel your heart swell a bit. “you’re spacing out.”

“peachy!” you respond, and feel your cheeks get warm. you hope he doesn’t notice. “I couldn’t be any better!”

his perceptive eyes pensively train on you. “well, I’ll be on my way then. don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”

“sure.” you nod, smiling.

and just as stubborn as you are, kuroo is more stubborn.

for the next few days, the man is always lingering around when you’re working late.

“what a coincidence, i’m here late, too! need a buddy?” and he’s already invading his way into your space before you can say ‘no’.

you feel as if there’s something he isn’t telling you, but you don’t ask.

the two of you share ordered dinner, chatting and bantering. time goes a lot faster with him, and you think it’s because he’s made you more productive (despite his antics), but you also know it’s because it’s him.

“you know it’s okay to ask for help, right?” kuroo points out again one day. “you don’t have to take on everything by yourself.”

“well, what do you know?” you say spitefully.

he senses your offense, and he knows quickly explains, “i-i’m not saying you can’t handle things, but you shouldn’t work yourself to death. i mean, you’re amazing at what you do, and—“

“look, i’ve been in your shoes before, and i know the feeling all too well. i just know it doesn’t feel great.” he finishes.

“thank you, kuroo.” you smile, “and I’m sorry for snapping at you…maybe i’m just tired and need a break.”

he perks up at this, “then why don’t we go do something?”

you shake your head, “i can’t…i have to finish this.”

“don’t worry. it’s already done.” he assures.

your mouth falls open, “how…?”

he laughs nervously, “well, don’t hate me when I say this…”

you narrow your eyes teasingly. “can’t promise that. but how bad can it be?”

“i rallied up those coworkers you talked to and told them you weren’t available to help them because we’re going on a date.” he confesses, scratching the back of his head. “may have also threatened them to not take advantage of you again…”

you sputter, choking on your food, “a date? like…a romantic date?”

“if that’s what they assume, then yes. which by the way, did you know people think we’re dating?”

there’s another strike to your heart, “they do?! but…how? why?”

he hides his face in his hand, cheeks a light pink, “dunno, maybe it’s because i spend most of my time with you…”

you’re shocked at his words, feeling like you need someone to pinch you. “really?”

“really.” he nods, leaning in towards you. “i thought it was obvious but I guess not…” he laughs.

you shake your head. “i didn’t want to assume anything, so i just thought you were being nice.”

“i mean, yes and no. i always like helping people, but i’d really use any excuse to talk to you.” he admits with a goofy grin. “but i’m sorry if i’ve made you uncomfortable in anyway.”

“no…i just didn’t think you’d feel that way about me, too.”

“‘too’?” he parrots.

you’re quiet for a moment and then say, “well maybe i have feelings for you and wasn’t going to confess unless i knew you liked me back. you do, right?”

“yes! i like you too—too!” he exclaims, probably louder than he means to. “i mean—“

you giggle, “i like you too-too, tetsu.”

he relaxes, like a weight has come off his shoulders. “well, as your date, i say we leave here. one more file to look at and i’ll cut my own head off.” he says.

“agreed.” you nod, standing up alongside him.

you both pack your things up and soon make your way outside. you’re brutally reminded of the cold autumn air as you feel it hit you in the faces.

a shiver comes over you, and you shrink within your own coat, trying to retain any and all warmth.

“here,” kuroo quickly wraps his scarf around you and you quickly smell mint and some form of expensive cologne. you bury you face in it and feel more at ease.

“thank you.” you gush.

he hums, “no problem.”

the two of you quickly find yourselves in an arcade. you both play games and you quickly learn how 1. competitive, and 2. horrible kuroo is at games. to soften his sour mood, you do win him prizes on his behalf.

“i haven’t had fun like this in awhile!” you beam. the two of you leave the arcade, kuroo offering to walk you home.

“i can tell, you haven’t stopped smiling since we left.” he says, chuckling.

“thanks to you, i guess.” you joke.

“you’re welcome, i’ve been losing on purpose just for you.” he admits.

you blink, not convinced. “sure.”

kuroo pouts, “it’s true,” he gestures down to his bag full of toys, “worked out in my favor, too.”

“right, tetsu.” you snicker, smirking.

the ravenette feels his heart swell at your words. “heh. well, more important prize is you, though.” he says cheekily.

“corny, but I’m flattered.” and before he can say another (horrible) pun, you pull him to your height by his work tie before abruptly kissing him on the lips.

this definitely throws the man off as he stumbles a bit, gasping against your mouth in surprised. his lips are soft and a bit chapped, his mouth tasting like candy from the arcade.

when you pull away, you say, “thank you for treating me to an evening like this. i didn’t realize how much i needed it.”

he slips his hand into yours, his large palm enveloping your smaller one in comforting warmth.

“of course. i just think someone as pretty as you shouldn’t have to worry about things so much.” he says, a faint blush appearing across his cheeks. “you shouldn’t let them walk all over you. make sure you have boundaries.”

you lean onto his shoulder, squeezing his hand. “you’re absolutely right. but you know what?”

he looks at you, “what?

“the only boundary that was worth crossing, was the one involving you.” you confess.

and in kuroo’s honest opinion, you couldn’t have been more right.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou fluff #kuroo fluff #hq x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #hq kuroo #haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyu fluff #hq fluff

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monalogs · 1 month

Note

U SHOULD DO NYEN NEXT!! ^^

Catfight | Nyen

➷ Paring - Nyen x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - noncon, violence/aggression, injuries, degradation, dacryphilla, face slapping, scratching, face-fucking, breathplay. surprisingly no knives :0

a/n - was supposed to come out earlier today but tumblr gets picky about my internet connection and doesn’t work sometimes </3 this fic is just a leedle more longer so i hope you enjoy !! i’ve been appreciating all the support, as always requests are open :) another nyen fic was requested so expect that soon!!

Cats are territorial creatures. It takes a while for a cat to get used to a new pet in the house. Give it time. You should expect some aggression. Well, that's what Luther said anyways after Nyen scoffed and completely ignored you when you were introduced as Luther’s new catwoman pet.

It's not like you did anything to him, actually trying to be nice in the beginning. It didn't matter how many times you wished him good morning or small talked. He’d still shove past you, saying the same thing,

“Don’t care. Die.”

Admittedly, It hurt your feelings at first. Nobody else had a problem with you. Luther’s other catman, Nyon, actually got along with you quite well. He already shared his “territory” so were you really intruding that much?

Or maybe it was because Luther spoiled you at first, buying you a cute dark blue skirt and dark top that dawned the word “cookie” (He chose it—of course.) along with your cat-hat that sported a floppy cat ear. However, it's been weeks since that. You’re sure whatever “new pet” jealousy he had would've died down by now.

It was concluded that after all that trying, at the end of the day, you aren't an ass-kisser. He wanted to be an asshole with you? You can be one back.

So you stopped being polite. You acted like he wasn't there, leaving the room instead of sticking it out whenever you two just happened to be alone. Simply rolling your eyes whenever he throws a stupid comment towards you.

Sure, it was more tame than him literally shoving you and telling you he wanted you dead but it was clear that this got him livid. He wasn't worth trying to get along with, he wasn't worth your effort.

Finally, after several more weeks of pettiness and frustration, he confronted you once you actually talked back to him after a snarky remark on a bad day. Cornering you in a lonesome room in the confusing house.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He stood tall in front of you, eyeing with a strong glare.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes like you always did, exasperated at his nerve to even ask you that, “My problem? You think I have a problem?” A chort leaves your lips, “If there's anyone with a problem—it's you.” With crossed arms, you return the glare. “Leave me alone now, asshat.” Heels turn to leave, not wanting to hear any more from him. However, you don't get a chance to even step a foot before Nyen harshly SLAMS you into the nearby wall.

“What—what the fuck!” The breath is taken out of your lungs, leaving you to slide down onto the floor in order to collect yourself in that split second. Nyen looms, not bothering to get on your level to speak to you, “Watch who you're talking to, I'll gut you right now.”

You're shaking, pain from the impact still vibrating throughout your body. Still, you futility keep yourself together and sharpen your gaze back at him. “Even if you wanted to—you can't. Luther likes me, and you're too much of an boot-licker to do anything—”

A swift kick meets your ribs causing you to hunch over in more pain. Nyen then crouches, grabbing a tuft of hair to force you to look at him. “Don't forget who’s higher on the hierarchy poster. You aren't worth anything besides sauntering around in a small skirt and cleaning after us like a maid.”

He lets go harshly, shoving your head in the process before getting up. Still feeling the burn in your chest, you begin to fester with anger. He can't just treat you like this. Just as he begins to walk away, you muster strength to get up and tackle him.

“Huh—”

You straddle him while he tries to kick you off but you stay firmly put. Sharp nails scratch at his face, causing shallow lines of blood to pool. You're cursing at him furiously, hitting and scratching continuously. Nyen hisses— “You bitch!”

Just as fast as you had him down, he quickly shoves you off of him and topples you. You both trash against each other, now he's able to return some painful hits. After basically rolling around on the floor, he's able to overpower you once he BONKS your head against the carpeted ground.

Dizzy and hurt, you feel him keep you down with his body weight, crushing your legs and causing you to hiss in over growing ache. “Get off of me!” With hoarse breath, you attempt to flail around and scream but Nyen doesn't relent.

Instead, he laughs maniacally as he shifts more of his weight and smacks your face. “Oh, no. I think you need to be reminded where the fuck you stand here.” He huffs and lifts the hem of your skirt, showing your underwear. Followed by flipping your shirt up above your bra, exposing yourself to him.

You see a malicious grin spread across his rough, shaven face. You should smack yourself for not realizing the hardness you felt while you both tackled was something else. Well, if he wasn't smacking you around already.

His black, dagger-like nails trail your exposed skin, not scared to dig down and cause you to yelp—only to swipe across your thighs and do it again. Nyen then moves his hand beneath your underwear, rubbing his fingers against your heat. You push back a gasp, gritting your teeth and desperately trying to shut your pinned legs.

He doesn't wait to stick a pair of fingers deep into you, staring intensely at your stressed reaction. “C’mon, don't got anything to say now?” You clench, you don't want to give him that satisfaction of your reactions. You seethe, because it feels good.

You try to keep it together when his fingers move in and out of you, but you can't ignore it when his thumb makes its way to rub your clit. He's harsh and fast, nails scratch your insides ever so slightly, causing you to clamp up around him. You can't let go of the feeling of his thumb circling your sensitive clit, a moan escapes you.

“You like that, slut?” Nyen speeds up and relishes on your hushed whines, cursing at him to just stop. He sees how your back arches slightly, and how your pretty tits are starting to spill from your bra. It's a nice sight, he likes how you were at each other's throat a few minutes ago, now he has you squirming around from a little fingering. You really are a slut.

Before you can reach your peak, Nyen pulls away. You breathe heavily, a pounding heartbeat reverberates in your ears. Once again, he towers over your hurt figure with furrowed brows before he snaps at you, “Get on your knees.”

He stares at you intensely, and though his dark pupils stay stoic on your hunched over body, you clearly spot the pure anger in his eyes towards you. It says so much. You knew Nyen didn't like you, but you really are starting to think he hates you. This is beyond jealousy or distain. He just wants you to suffer because you are below him.

It seems he's sick of waiting for you to act, he scoffs before wrapping your hair around his strong hand, yanking you into a kneeling position. “You really don't listen.” SMACK.

Overwhelmed tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the impact. Nyen still grips your hair, forcing your face against the dark denim of his pants. His clothed hardness pokes at your cheek, tears staining his crotch. “Take it out, whore. Don't make me do it.” You scowl, still feeling his claws digging into your scalp.

With shaky hands, you pull down his fly and fish out his hard length. Veins trail along the side of it and his base flushes red against your hands, big and intimidating. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Put that dirty mouth of yours to use.” Nyen scorns, noticing your flaring eyes, hesitating. “Bite me. I dare you, slut.” With a furrowed face, you take his pulsing dick and gently place it in your mouth. Your tongue awkwardly sliding over his engorged tip.

Nyen narrows his eyes at you, they're kitten licks, too shaky and soft to feel substantial. He observes the concept spread on your face, so uncomfortable and pathetic. It didn't matter that you were giving a sad excuse of a blowjob. He could get off on the fat tears that pooled down your face and the pure messiness of you.

Your hair and clothes are so disheveled it looks as if you just walked through the forest. You're bruising ever so slightly red on the side of your forehead, hits adorn your body, and he could chuckle at the matching scratches that sweep across both your faces. He thinks about how you would've looked even better if he had his knife with him.

Twisting the hair he’s holding behind your head, he waits once you take his tip fully in your mouth and without warning—he snaps his hips up and pushes his cock down your throat.

You gag harshly as Nyen lets out a long groan, forcing your mouth to fully take him. Still, he never stops looking at you through half lidded eyes, grinning at how you struggle to even breathe now.

He doesn't waste time to start thrusting roughly into your mouth, clutching onto the back of your head to fully abuse your throat. You try to gasp in between thrusts but it's impossible. He’s blocking your airways. You continue to let out strangled noises, digging your nails into the denim of his jeans to let him know to give you some type of mercy.

Nyen doesn't listen—he continues to feverishly fuck your face for a grueling however long. Long enough for you to start to feel dizzy and see dots collect in your vision. For a second, you truly panic that he’s going to suffocate you with his dick.

He only pulls back when he visibly sees you start to turn blue and feel the sharpness on his thigh weaken. You gasp for air like a fish out of water, aching lungs finally filling with much needed oxygen before Nyen greedily forces his way into you again.

He’s enjoying how your continued strained whines and gags vibrate around his dick. He won't admit it… but shit, you feel so addictive. Nyen wants to just melt into you.

He genuinely has to keep reminding himself to not let you die by pulling out of your mouth every so often. Taking some joy in how you scramble for air before he inevitably slams back into your poor throat.

Large hands grip at the sides of your head now, hip movements become more and more sloppy. He’s grunting louder, the sensation of twitching in your mouth becoming more evident of how close he is now. “Fuck—this really is all you’re good for, huh? You're going to swallow all my cum like the useless slut you are.”

With a final snap from his hips, Nyen forces your head all the way down, nuzzling your nose into his crotch before he spurts salty cum deep down your esophagus. He doesn't give you any leniency, purposely making you choke as he empties into you. “All of it, whore.”

Finally, once he's satisfied that you’ve tasted enough of him, he harshly pulls out his pulsating cock. Air feels like a commodity now, you almost feel as if he's going to shove his dick inside your mouth again in a few seconds. He doesn't though, instead he removes his hand from your hair and grabs his flushed length.

Your vision is blurry and your knees are weak, barely able to focus. Still, you manage to see the smug look spread across his face. Suddenly, you feel a warm, quick smack on the side of your cheek. You blink and realize he’s dick slapping you. What fucking nerve.

Still aching, you don't bother to fight back or say something like you should. Everything truly hurts. Instead, you allow yourself to loll back and cover yourself as Nyen zips himself back into his pants.

It's quiet. Nyen stands by and over you as you sit on the carpet, not sure what to do. Tears would be flowing if you had any left to cry. Both your eyes finally meet, and you can properly see the red scratches you left on his face. Nyen finally spits, “Get up. You look pathetic.” He then opens the door and leaves you to wallow.

It's like another slap to your face.

#nyen catman #nyen ranfren #nyen x reader #x reader #tw noncon #tw pain #tw breath play #dark content #dark blog

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years

Text

Cold Turkey - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: When you discovered you were pregnant, Eddie announced he would quit smoking cigarettes cold turkey. That leads him to be more emotional than you, though.

Warnings: hurt/comfort-ish?

Words: 1.4k

It was a sweet thought, really. You were touched when Eddie announced he was going to quit smoking cigarettes two weeks after you’d discovered that you were pregnant. With all the information about secondhand smoke swirling about, it buzzed around in his head as he lay awake at night. What if something was wrong when the baby was born because you were around him smoking so much? What if the smell of the cigarette smoke made your morning sickness worse?

In theory, it was sweet. In reality, Eddie was a bit of a nightmare. Quitting cold turkey wasn’t the best way to go, you told him this. But he was adamant that he didn’t want smoke around you at all, and seeing as if he wasn’t at work, he was in your small, shared apartment, he refused to try and ween himself off the addiction. This meant he was irritable as soon as he walked in the front door. He would kick his work boots off, grumble under his breath, and you’d force a smile while he came to give you a kiss. It was the same every day.

Being in your first trimester, your emotions were all over the place yourself. Anything could cause you to burst into tears; even something as simple as a soup commercial. But the few times you’d started crying in front of him while he was in his irritable mood, it only made him worse. You’d started to try and hide it the best you could. You’d put on a fake smile, swallow down any hormonal emotions that might pop up, and walk on eggshells to keep Eddie in the best mood that you possibly could. It didn’t seem fair, but you didn’t know what to do about it.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Eddie asks one night after dinner.

“Sure, what do you want to watch?” You sit down on your ratty green couch, keeping a few inches between you and your husband. It’s not that you didn’t want to touch him, quite the opposite, actually. But what if he thought you were being too clingy again? What if he brushed you off saying that he was too warm to have your body heat on top of his again? Your emotional state wouldn’t be able to take that.

“I don’t care,” he says. You know that’s not true. If you suggest a movie that he doesn’t like there will be an eyeroll and a loud sigh. That would be it if you were lucky.

“Um, Star Wars? Back to the Future? Karate Kid?” You offer up.

“Whatever,” he says with a shrug. You bite your lip a take a quiet, deep breath. Eddie catches your shoulders moving up and down from the corner of his eye and he turns to look at you. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, fake smile on.

“Oh, come on,” he says. “How long have we been together now? You think I don’t know when something is wrong?”

“I’ve been doing a pretty good hiding it this far,” you mumble. But he hears you.

“You what? What is wrong?”

You shake your head quickly, looking down at your lap. Your fingers begin to fidget in your lap, and in the periphery of your vision you see Eddie’s knee bouncing up and down, his own fingers jabbing into his leg in an erratic pattern.

“Will you tell me what is bothering you?”

It’s his tone that gets you. It’s bitter. It’s almost condescending. It settles into your stomach and starts to steam your blood. This was supposed to be a time when he was there for you. Where you got to be the emotional one, without fear of upsetting his mood. Stress was one of the worst things for you right now, but here he was, unintentionally perhaps, causing your stress level to be the highest it’s been in years.

“You! You’re my problem!” You scream out. The tears are already flooding up your throat and you know they’ll start to pour out the moment his first word leaves his lips.

“Excuse me?” he asks.

You were right. The tears start coming out, but you rub them off your cheeks angrily. He raises his eyebrows at you, an accusatory glance. It fuels the slow burn that’s been building up inside for a few weeks now.

“I am pregnant. I am supposed to be the one who has mood swings, Eddie! I know quitting smoking cold turkey was what you wanted for us, for the baby, but you’re driving me crazy!” The tears are flowing faster and hotter down your face. You take a deep breath and pull your gray sweatshirt sleeves over your hands to wipe them over your face. “Look,” you say in a calmer tone, “I know nicotine withdrawal is tough. I do. But have you thought about how your mood has been affecting me?”

Eddie’s lips purse together, and his jaw twitches to the side. You can’t read his face. You’ve always been able to read it before, always known what emotion was playing across his eyes. Finally, his face relaxes, and he lets out a breath. You know this face again. You know this Eddie.

“I’m sorry,” he says. And that’s enough to send you into a new round of tears. This time you’re not sure what emotion is fueling them. Relief? Happiness? Exhaustion?

He opens his arms to you and you fall into them willingly, nestling your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’ve been as ass,” he mumbles against your hair. You nod against his neck and it makes him chuckle. “I wish you said something earlier. I quit smoking so things would be better for us. For our family. You should’ve let me know I was actually making it worse.”

“I didn’t want to make you even madder,” you say with a sniffle.

Eddie pulls back and takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts your face up so your eyes are locked on his.

“Don’t ever ever ever be afraid of saying something to me. Anything to me. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be that kind of husband. I don’t want that kind of marriage. You can say anything to me at any time. And I know I can do that with you. That’s the relationship we have. What we’ve always had. What I want.” He presses a kiss against your nose and wipes your tears away with his thumbs.

“I love you,” you get out in a watery breath.

“I love you too, beautiful,” he says. “And I promise I’ll try to stop being so grumpy. It can’t last much longer anyway, right? How long do the withdrawal symptoms last? Wait, no. Don’t answer that, I don’t want to know.”

You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder. Your hand finds his and you begin to play with his fingers in his lap.

“We’ll see who stops their emotional spiral first; you or me,” you say.

He smiles and slides his other arm around your waist.

“You deserve yours far more than I do,” Eddie says. “That little bun in your oven is poking all the wrong buttons, huh? Hitting all the hormones.”

“You have no idea,” you say. You pause and then smirk up at him. “Or maybe you do. Maybe nicotine is like your little bun.”

He rolls his eyes, but this time it is in an affectionate manner, not irritated. “Okay, smartass. What movie do you want to watch?”

You shrug, not thinking about a movie anymore. You’re just glad you’re in Eddie’s arms and the air is clear between the two of you. The small home feels warm and cozy again, not frigid and terse. Eddie notices your eyes fluttering open and shut, tiredness being the latest feeling given to you by the growing baby.

“You want to go to bed? Lay down together?” he asks.

“Sounds nice,” you mumble, eyes trying to stay open to look at him. He stands up and scoops you up in his arms. You waste no time snuggling against his chest and letting your eyes fully close.

“You know what I want?” he whispers near your ear.

“What?” you whisper back.

“A cigarette.”

You open your eyes to see him holding in a laugh. The smile slides on your face against your will and you rest your forehead against his shoulder.

“Fine, that’s what we’ll name the baby,” you say.

He laughs and lays you down on the bed. He crawls on behind you and wraps his arms around your middle. You snuggle back into him as he presses a soft kiss to the back of your shoulder.

“I promise you’ll get to be the moody one the entirety of the next pregnancy.”

Your head turns sharply towards him. “The next one?! Let me finish the first one!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction

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scottxlogan · 1 year

Text

Random thoughts...

Not to be a downer on anyone these days, but I’ve been thinking lately and I have to ask for what feels like the millionth time. What is with people not wanting to interact with others on the internet in fandom especially content creators?

Putting this under the cut because I know not everyone wants to read my thoughts here, but like fandom just feels so bleak lately. Don’t get me wrong I have a few really great fandom friends who are so supportive and I adore them so very much. They are what help me navigate through the fandom waters here, but for the most part it’s a silent place these days.

Now don’t get me wrong I can honestly say that I feel very blessed because I have a significant amount of followers here on Tumblr. I started off in a rare fandom and through the years on here have gained a following where I appreciate each one of you who have taken to following me. I do, but my complaint is about fandom in general as a whole and the lack of connection. I get we live in a day in age where people binge content and move on without giving it a second look, but like I don’t get how on here when people like something they don’t reblog or at least like it. Same goes for AO3. If you take the time to read a fic, it would be nice if you actually I don’t know...leave a kudos or some kind of response. I know I’ve been down this rant road a few times already and it probably feels old, but it is still happening.

People who create content whether it be art, animations, fic, etc. pour a LOT of energies into it. Even if we tell you it was nothing, the truth is it was something. It was time spent away from being somewhere else, doing something else in the hopes of sharing our creative inspirations and really hoping that you like what we put out there. Sure, we love what we do, but we also kind of hope you love it too because when we do it and you love it, we want to do it more! A good positive round of feedback is enough to motivate some really wonderful things in the universe and that’s what I think most content creators are hoping for.

The problem is that lately the only people who are giving any kind of response are those who tell you to go away, to offer up other trigging content to creators that I won’t put out into the universe in their cruelty and just being so horribly mean that a lot of creators just turn away or stop altogether because they believe that’s all that is out there. It’s a very disheartening cycle because when someone who creates content is only hearing those kind of things it makes you question if you should still be doing it. I mean I’m not going to lie, I’ve even considered stepping away from doing some fandom things like writing stories because while I notice there are some hits the kind of comments I’m getting are filled with so much hate and hurtful things that I have to question why i keep putting myself through the agony of it all. I mean yes, I love doing what I do, but at the same continually getting cut down doesn’t motivate a person to want to be continuing only to keep getting back up to get knocked down again.

Now, I know people are shy and maybe a part of them are afraid if they like/comment/reblog something that it could come back to them in real life and fandom is not a part of their offline life. This I get too. I really do and on places like Tumblr sure okay, yeah I mean if you’re worried it could cause you issues or some kind of harm by engaging, then for sure you shouldn’t have to, but on a place like AO3 where guests can leave comments/likes in most instances without having to supply real life information and out themselves as engaging an author, I don’t see why people don’t do it. I understand being socially awkward and shy. In real life I’m a HUGE introvert with social anxiety. I pretend really well that I’m okay, but I’m not the portrait of confidence and extroverted like some others are. I never have been. Writing is a way of expressing myself and allowing my voice to be heard in a lot of ways where as in the real world I don’t often have that opportunity to do that. Being creative is a comfort and something that makes me feel better in a lot of ways, but again being met by hate all the time is draining. Sure, I have set comments to moderation in some cases and it has been a life saver in a lot of ways, but at the same time I have to question why the feedback I’m getting is just pure hatred instead of positive responses. Like for me it just doesn’t make any sense. If you’re shy, you don’t have to write an author a thesis about why you liked something, but even something as simple as a positive icon can make someone’s day. It’s as simple as that and it doesn’t out you as a fan to those you don’t want to see it nor would an author be angry with you offering a simple response. Trust me it will make their day. It makes mine when I see any kind of positive response, so I can guarantee it does that for others too.

As I said earlier I started in a rare fandom and maybe that was good for me because in doing so I stepped into a close knit community. I was nervous at first that they wouldn’t accept me and felt out of place until I found that the fandom ‘greats’ were welcoming me in with open arms and being kind and supportive even when we all didn’t have exactly the same interests. It was a fun time to be in fandom, but time has passed and most of that fandom has moved on or transitioned to the new version of fandom where if you’re not a part of the ‘popular’ crew then you’re not really noticed in general. Even in joining newer fandoms I see a lot of newbies aren’t welcomed into the fold but rather shunned for daring to step into a fandom that already has an established community. In my first days in fandom if someone new came around we welcomed them with open arms and offered to give them the grand tour, but now it’s more of a ‘don’t get in my way’ attitude and that’s really sad. That community feel just isn’t there anymore. I realize I’m rambling all over the place, but I’ve been thinking it for a while.

Odds are not many people are reading this at this point, so I can be plainly honest about things. My first love fandom was a wonderful one with so many rewarding experiences where I was the newbie that was embraced and welcomed to the community. We all wanted more content because it was so rare and when we got it, we were all happy to have those things. It was a great day when there was a new fic or a new piece of art and a celebration of fandom. However, right now that fandom is quiet and those still lingering around have gone in new directions. I, too, have gone in different directions and in doing so I haven’t really found that steady landing place that I had when I was a kid hopping in here on fandom. The new factions of fandom just don’t feel as welcoming or open to being supportive in the ways the old did as it feels more like a popularity contest or a means of turning art into a living, which I have three art degrees so I get it. It’s important to do what you love and make money doing it, but at the same time fandom is also supposed to be fun and a way to connect and I feel like a lot is lost in that aspect of things. In the last month I’ve gotten a few comments from my regular fandom friends but beyond that I’ve received more hate and criticism from people who hate the fandom I’m in or in some cases people in the fandom who are influencers who can’t say something positive beyond criticizing for a different vision than what they had. Those things are kind of disheartening and I guess in writing this I don’t really know where I stand on fandom. The other day i was ready to throw in the towel, feeling like my voice isn’t being heard and really if it is, no one is saying otherwise. I feel like maybe no one wants to see/hear/read/enjoy what I just spend hours doing like maybe I’m wasting everyone else’s time along with my own and that’s when fandom feels like a lonely road where you’re traveling on it with no sense of direction. I don’t know... I’ve been thinking about that for a while and lately it kind of sits in my brain a lot longer than it used to. I guess I just miss the days of fans taking the time to form friendships and actually talk about the things they love without making other people feel unwelcome. A little return to community would be nice.

#fandom talk #missing fandom community #fandom etiquette #fandoms #content creation #quiet fandoms #my thoughts #missing a fandom community

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walker-extended-universe · 1 day

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Like a Pheonix, We Rise- Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Relationship(s): Hoyt Rawlins & Cordell Walker, Abigail Walker & Cordell Walker

Tags: Character Death, Immortality, Immortal Hoyt, Immortal Cordell, Adoption

Summary: Hoyt introduces Cordell to some new friends. As usual, things go downhill. Or do they?

Written for @medwhumpmay- Prompt 19: Blood Loss

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

-------

“Are you sure we can trust him, Hoyt?”

“Absolutely. Me and him go way back and he cares more about justice than what any fucker with a badge thinks. Besides, it would help to have another ally on the other side of the law.”

Abigail glanced over at the stranger at the other end of the bar. Hoyt swore by him, but she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “What do you think, Kate?”

Her friend hummed. “He seems respectable enough. And Gus confirmed he actually is a sheriff. It couldn’t hurt to have someone who could actually make an arrest on our side.”

Well, if she agreed….. “Thank you, for bringing him in. We need all the hands we can get if we’re going to take Tom down.”

Hoyt smirked. “I told you.” He waved his friend over. “Cordell, I want you to meet some friends of mine. This is Abigail Walker and Kate Carver. They need a little help from your long arm of the law.”

Cordell tipped his hat at them. “Pleasure to meet y’all. Hoyt told me about your little….sheriff problem. I’m happy to help, however I can.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can put you to work,” Kate said with a smirk.

Cordell returned her smirk. “I expect nothing less.”

—-------------

If there was one thing Hoyt and Cordell had learned from a couple dozen centuries of living, it’s that things can get messy when you try to do the right thing. Not always, and usually the mess is worth it. But sometimes, the mess is really messy. More messy than even their bodies can handle.

Cordell had been more than willing to join them in taking down Tom Davidson. He’d gladly picked up the extra gun Abigail handed him. He’d put himself in the line of fire for Abby, for Kate, for Calian, for Gus, because he trusted Hoyt’s word that they were worth it. Because he believed people were always worth it.

Hoyt usually went along with him, though he didn’t always share the sentiment. It was a promise he’d made long ago, to stand by his brother’s side no matter what. Even if he disagreed with the cause or the people they were fighting for.

Because something else they’d learned long ago is that there was nothing worse than dying alone.

The shootout with Tom started with a bang and went by too fast for Hoyt to keep track of his oldest friend, too worried about the ones whose deaths would be more permanent.

He didn’t see it when Tom’s bullet pierced his friend, but he felt it when Cordell started to fade. He always did, just another quirk of them being the way they were. Hoyt ran to him as soon as he knew Calian wasn’t dead.

He didn’t stop running until he could kneel next to his fallen brother. Abby knelt over him, putting pressure on his bullet wound. Off on the other end of the alley, Tom lay bleeding out.

There was so much blood.

“I’ve never seen a man move so fast,” Abby muttered. I ran out of shells and Tom was going to- Then he just….”

Hoyt sighed. “Always playin’ the hero, aren’t ya?” he muttered. He took Abby’s hands away from the wound and hissed when he saw how much blood Cordell had already lost. There was a bloom of red on his shirt, right above his hip. The rest was falling into the dirt.

Cordell coughed, some blood splattering onto his chin. “Yeah, yeah, spare me the speech this time.” He groaned when Hoyt put pressure on his wound again. “At least we got our guy, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, you got your guy….”

“I-I should get Kai. Where-”

“Abby, no. It’s too late.”

“Wh-”

Cordell reached for Abby’s hand. “It’s alright. I-I don’t mind dyin’ like this. I never do….” He coughed again and Hoyt reached for his other hand.

“Take it easy, buddy. You’re okay….”

It never got easier, watching a friend die. Even if Hoyt knew he’d be back in a matter of hours, it broke his heart. He never could shake that fear (or was it hope?) that this would be the last time.

When the light drained from Cordell’s eyes, Hoyt carefully picked him up and carried him toward Hagan’s.

Another thing they learned long ago: these resurrections were better in private.

—--------------

“Hoyt, I just wanted to-” Abigail Walker stopped in the doorway, two glasses of beer in hand, staring at the scene in front of her.

She’d come up to Hoyt’s room to offer a drink and a shoulder to cry on. She knew what it was like to lose someone, to mourn over an unjust death. She’d already made plans with Kate and Augustus to host a proper funeral for Cordell.

She did not expect to see Cordell’s bloody clothes discarded on the floor and Hoyt holding a baby. “I- Where’s the body? Where did you get that baby?”

“Shhhh, he’s sleeping,” Hoyt chided her. “Coming back like this always takes it out of him.”

“I’m sorry?”

Hoyt sighed. “It’s a little complicated. Sit down. And you might want to have that drink.”

Abby sat down, unsure what to expect.

What she heard was a fantastic tale of impossibility. Two immortal beings, wandering the earth through the ages, living and dying over and over again. Every death restarted the cycle of life, from infant to elder. They didn’t know why they were this way, what their purpose was, or if there were any others. They just knew they existed, and that they had truly nothing to lose- not even each other.

It was ridiculous. Unbelievable. Utter nonsense.

And yet, she believed him.

“So… What will you do now?”

Hoyt shrugged. “Skip town. Find somewhere quiet. Give him a chance to grow up a bit. Then…. I don’t know. Just keep doing what we’ve been doing I guess.”

That sounded awful. Drifting around for ages, never having a home to go to, never having a family to lean on…. She didn’t want that for either of them, not after everything they’ve been through.

“You could stay,” she offered. “I- You could stay with me. I could help you take care of him.”

“Abby, you don’t-”

“I want to. It’s the least I could do.” She put a hand on his knee. “Please. I owe you- both of you- my life. Let me return the favor.”

Hoyt stared at her for a long time. Then he looked down at Cordell’s sleeping face. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Might be nice, not having to do everything myself for once. You know, he complains all the time that I’m the reckless one but I’m pretty sure he dies more than me….”

Abigail smiled and settled in to listen to his stories.

#walker #walker: independence #au #walker fic #walker: independence fic #medwhump may #tw death #tw blood #my writing #my fic

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sourtoasterstrudel · 11 months

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I’ve been on a magical girl kick recently so i wanted to share these slightly older madoka magica au doodles I made. I’d love to draw more magical girls in the future because i have way too many ideas related to them.

This is technically also a genderbent au but it was required. Anyways i want to share my notes on the au

Kylie was approached about becoming a magical girl while her little sister was in the hospital, so her wish caused her to become more of a protector magical girl, with less focus on the strength of her weapons and more on the amount of them. She’s definitely the most agile of the girls, being able to fire a ton of daggers at enemies (similar to mami’s power but with knives? I dunno). She’s been doing this the second longest out of the group next to kelly. For a special ability thing I think she’d have some sort of like— anti gravity boots that let her walk on walls and shit

As for Stella, she’s the newest magical girl in town and I think she’d be the most naive of the group, especially surrounding how much power she has (I mean her wish was for her dad to disappear because she was angry with him, which she now regrets so making her be the most oblivious to how godlike some of their abilities are makes sense). Her weapon is bulky and not exactly the best for a beginner. Kylie tries to help out when she can but for the most part Stella just needs to figure out her fighting style by herself

Erica is of course still a selfish monster, which I had a lot of fun symbolizing in her soul gem (as I mention In the drawing it resembles a grief seed even in its regular form. Since the witches are the ‘corrupt’ versions of a magical girl I think Erica already starting off with that darkness in her makes sense). She has a fair amount of armour on her compared to the other girls, despite the fact magical girls can’t exactly get hurt, which I think kinda shows her self-centred nature. She knew Kylie before they became magical girls, and they were actually quite friendly, until Kylie got her abilities and Erica became envious. I think that when Erica becomes a witch, unlike the other magical girls, she’d have full control. It’d be like her final form instead of being a dark form (I think that that’s how her wish would be fulfilled. Her witch form is how she can be the most powerful magical girl). Dunno I thought far too into her design

Lastly Kelly. She signed her contract at 12, wishing for her family to be rich as an attempt at making her parents kinder. It fails but at least her and her siblings have nice things now (right?). Even in her magical girl form she keeps her more thrifty diy style she adopted as a kid, hanging grief seeds off of her coat as decoration. She’s not the strongest of the group by any means but she is the one with the most experience which constantly benefits her. She has a special ability she calls her ‘second life’, which was a result of her wish. It essentially allows her to kill and clone her body as like— a defence mechanism (I don’t know if that makes sense). Her witch form, Midas, is a representation of her greed and hopes that money would fix all of her problems.

I would add more but this is getting really long so if you read through all of this, I’m proud of you : )

#this wasn’t the au i was referencing yesterday this is just some ideas i had because i love magical girls #south park #soursart #madoka magica is such a good anime #i want to create my own magical girls so badly man #it’s just the kids whom I’m swapping the genders of because I forgot I reference randy #if you haven’t watched madoka magica this will be very confusing sorry

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gaudebo · 3 months

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i see youre a fan of orcs and as a fellow fan of orcs that just realized theyre usually depicted problematically, im here to ask you how you like to see orcs? i have a dnd-ish story with a friend and my character is an orc and i realized i was feeding a little bit into the harmful stereotypes and issues with orcs and i want to change that but wasn't sure of ideas and i just wanted to hear what you have to say on the topic of orcs in general or with this topic in mind, but only if you want to!

First of all I am genuinely delighted to receive this ask!! I love talking about orcs so much and the fact that I have a reputation as an orc enthusiast is delightful!

I’ve already written a whole post abt orc Lore and how I think it can be improved upon here but if you’re looking for more general character advice I can do that too!

The biggest thing is that an orc should be a character like any other. Your orc should have more depth than Big, Dumb, and Angry. You have so many options at your disposal especially in a DND-esque setting! Don’t get so caught up in the stereotypical idea of what an orc is that you forget to have fun! You could have a bookworm wizard orc or a quiet, mysterious ranger orc, or any other kind of character you could make as a human or an elf! The world is your oyster. orcster. (We’ll workshop that one.)

That’s not even to say that you can’t make a Big Dumb Angry orc but in that case: how do they feel about interacting with others? What problems does their anger cause them? Do they ever feel hampered by their tendency to solve problems with violence? And also: what makes them so angry? If the answer is “something innate to them makes them violent” then you have a problem. But if it’s something like “a terrible tragedy struck and since that time they push everyone away so they don’t get hurt again” that’s a story! You can use that for depth and flavor!

Plus: you can use the character’s experience as an orc for even more characterization. If you have a bookworm-y orc, how do they feel about everyone expecting them to be stupid? Do they have to work harder than their colleagues to make up for the stigma? For a stereotypically angry and dumb orc, does it hurt to know that that’s all anyone ever thinks they could be? Do they feel pressured into that role by society? Do they have another choice?

Basically: orcs are characters to love and cherish like any other. The biggest problem with the negative portrayals of orcs is that so often they’re designed as enemies that a PC can slaughter without guilt. They’re hostile and stupid and unlovable so you don’t have to feel bad about killing them. Unfortunately, that ties back into orcs as an amalgamation of the most negative stereotypes about people of color. The same justification has been used to commit atrocities against real people in real life! But I digress.

Your orc should be a person! They should have family and friends, and if they don't, there should be an established in-character reason. They should have wants and desires and dreams and flaws! They should be more than a 2-dimensional caricature. If you keep that in mind, it will be a lot easier to avoid playing into the harmful stereotypes because they are designed to diminish the Personhood of orcs in universe!

Thank you so much for asking me for my opinion because I love to share it! I hope you have fun reworking your character! Feel free to come back anytime :]

#48hr orc lockdown #long post #orcs #dungeons & dragons #dungeons and dragons #dnd #d&d #dnd lore #orc racism #fantasy racism #uhhh #character design #?#an ask………#really thank you anon i love having opinions sm #especially abt orcs #orc anon

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chibishortdeath · 6 months

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I’ll keep this under a cut since it’s a vent, but things are going very horribly right now. I have no idea what to do. I feel like a complete fuck up.

Now I don’t know if this is what it is for sure, but something is fucking wrong with me cause I obviously just can’t interact with people correctly. I have realized recently that every single friendship I’ve ever had lines up exactly with BPD and having a ‘favorite person’. Not diagnosed obviously cause this is all very new information to me and I don’t have a therapist or anything, but holy hell is it pretty much exactly the cycle that’s happened with almost every single friend I’ve ever had my whole life. If that’s not what it is then idk what else it could be but yeah idk where I’m going with this sentence…

I have a great first impression with someone, we end up very great friends talking almost everyday or often, I care so so deeply about this person, something happens to the usual routine or someone else ends up talking to me, I suddenly either end up feeling way less close to them or just lose the spark entirely, I feel like a complete asshole and desperately try to feel the same way again to no avail, it either ends horribly and painfully or is never the same again and I am completely wracked with guilt and confused as to why I’m a terrible person who sucks at being a friend for a while, and then I end up stupidly believing it’ll be any different next time. It’s been this way as long as I can remember.

And it’s just constant. I can’t keep any more than maybe one main friend and a few secondary friends at a time. I can’t have too many social interactions with secondary friends too frequently no matter how much I love them or I’ll end up completely burnt out and overwhelmed. I can’t talk to anyone without being terrified I’ll just break them. I feel like a fucking parasite. I don’t know what to do, I don’t feel like I wanna get close to anyone anymore. I don’t think I should. I’m just gonna fail and hurt everyone I love. Part of me just wants to dip off the internet for good, but I’m an idiot and I need to see content of and talk about a game or I’ll start spiraling again, not that I’m not already though I guess.

To make it worse, I do have friends that I know I’m failing right now. I know I’m gonna hurt all of them. The pattern is already past the point of no return. And now I know that it’s my fault. That it’s really is just a me problem. It’s always been me that’s the problem. Every time has been because of me. I know I’m going to inevitably neglect most of them because I’m already isolating myself. I know can’t balance all of them at once without being overwhelmed. I know I can’t pick myself up again without getting overwhelmed. I know I can’t get the routine back. I know it can’t go back to how it was. I know it can’t. It’s just gonna end like it always has, awful for everyone involved. I don’t know how to fix it or if I can at this point.

It’s so fucking selfish. It’s disgustingly mean of me. I just wanna be a good person. I just wanna be a good friend. That’s all I want. I just wanna make people happy and share time with people and talk and have similar interests and laugh and be there when they need it and give gifts and hug and hang out. I just wanna be a friend. But it never works. It always ends up this way. I shouldn’t have tried. I really shouldn’t have. I’m just hurting people at this point.

#on top of all this I’m aromantic and that just adds a whole nother way of making it worse #I’ve turned down four best friends when at their lowest points and the friendships all changed a ton or ended and hurt everyone involved #I just feel like all I’m meant for is to hurt people #to be some kind of a lesson or traumatic plot point in their lives #I’m so constantly alone but I guess I’m supposed to be #I just don’t wanna hurt or disappoint or abandon or upset or fail or lose anyone anymore #vent post #tw vent #text post #incoherent rambling #really stupid way of putting it but I know it’s getting bad when all I wanna do is draw Simon dead over and over again #I used to do that a lot in high school #ugh #but nevertheless we ball I guess

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itsnothingofinterest · 1 year

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Hello again 👋 hope you're doing good? I wanted to ask you something else about bnha if that's cool? Do the heroes goals ever feel hollow in their course of action?

This mostly applies to deku but also to most of the heroes too. What I mean for example is, deku knows what hero society's flaws are (by being quirkless, knowing endeavor and lady nagant, and hearing shigaraki) but he still doesn't want to really change anything. I know that's already been said and there's a lot of disagreement on weather bnha will go anywhere with actually changing society but speaking specifically about deku, his goal as a hero is to save people (with a smile) and every time it's stated in the story or by fans I can't help but think: 'He kind of isn't though? Not really...'

Because while deku does help people in the present, if the people are just put in danger again tomorrow or not much later because of Hero Society's flaws, is deku actually saving anyone at all? It's just kind of odd in that way because deku isn't really portrayed as an oblivious/unintelligent protagonist but he can't seem to put cause and effect together? Which okay if that's not the kind of story hori is trying to tell, but if that really is true then until the moment deku does wind up saving his villain, what's the point of most of what deku does?

Is everything that's happened in bnha just brought to this one point of saving the villains? Don't get me wrong I love the lov villains but how would they be saved if their heroes don't yet understand how they got where they are? And in deku's case specifically, knows shigaraki (because it was straight up told to him) but won't fix what made him?

Shigaraki doesn't seem like he would accept a halfbaked answer, for him to bet his life or his friend's lives on.

Because it wasn't just AFO that made shigaraki, it the civilians too right? And deku has to realize that by now after everything he's been through right?

Do these plot points and directions confuse you too or do you think/see all this differently?

Yeah I definitely get what you mean, and I share your concerns. I mean I’ve been saying forever now that Deku’s still not in the right place to save Shigaraki and still needs a lot of character development first. It’s a big reason I keep saying we should have a My Hero part 2 where this “final war arc” just closes out the first part.

Like, I've seen the idea floating around that saving the villains now is more important than that society stuff, it can be dealt with later. Off-screen, implicitly, because this is the final arc. But that’s really based under the assumption that Deku & co will just do that out of nowhere despite all reason why they wouldn’t. I can only guess people think he will anyway because that’s what his character archetype does; but they only do that half the time and preserve the status quo the other half, villain-generating flaws and all. Guess which half Deku leans towards. (And don’t go thinking this would change off-screen either.)

That’s largely why I personally get so concerned for the fate of this country under Deku. An ending where he just beats AFO and saves Tomura without ever self-reflecting or realizing Tomura’s right (and a lot of reads I’ve seen of how he’ll save Tomura lately involve reducing him to a five-years old and teaching him he was wrong about everything, not the kind of person you go to for career advise) is one where he & his class just become the next All Mights…complete with letting people fall through the cracks, become villains, probably start working together, and loop us right back to here. Just one big example of Deku solving nothing in the long term as you described.

And I think the source of the problem is: the kids’ stories and character arcs have never been about change and injustice like the villains arcs; they’re all about becoming heroes who protect society. Maybe become the next All Might(s) if they’re ambitions. Any of their own hurdles like discrimination or abusive parents are just things that inform the kinds of heroes they’ll become; And on the off-chance they know other people go through those same things and that’s bad, well maybe being a good enough hero will solve that indirectly...somehow. But directly changing things isn’t on their radar.

Of course they want to help people, but they don’t want to do thing differently from how they’ve been done. The status quo is great on the whole (for them), and it’s not like every member of the League’s start of darkness happened under All Might’s nose, right? ...Oh yeah.

Anyway, that’s why until & unless both sides start seeing the other side’s points and get the idea they could work together for a best-of-both-worlds solution, I’m rooting for the villains. Deku’s goals provably don’t work, and the only way anyone can act like they would is by assuming Deku’s already realized Tomura was right by himself.

And, hey, if the kids aren’t gonna fix anything themselves, then maybe the villains can fix things and then the heroes can save them and stop the violence. That would be another solution, and it even fits what each groups arcs and roles are. Better than Deku winning now and hoping he does a million times better than All Might.

#boy this got rambly #ask & reply #bnha #class 1a #shigaraki tomura #league of villains #lov #paranormal liberation front #PLF #hero society #all might

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boyfridged · 1 year

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In regards to your recent reblog, the only evidence I’ve seen about the pit madness stuff is the daniels interview. And even that interview says that Jason was always crazy so I don’t think it’s a reliable source. The comics themselves say Jason’s breakdown was caused by the video Bruce sent him. Every action Jason has done has always been 100% his own choice, he may have been mentally unwell but I don’t think the pit played any part in that.

i don't really have time nor energy (nor enough interest in it tbh) to compile the list of sources but i can promise you that it's not the only mention of it. first of all, ableist language that is a common ground for both the concept of magic-induced "madness" and regular psychosis is used to describe jason by other characters often enough that it gets blended with each other for readers -- which i think is more of an issue of writing than the readership, because the writers should be sensitive to such issues. second of all, even in annual 25, winick wrote that whether it was lazarus pit that made him this way was a "question that would always be asked" (winick does point at the knowledge that he was unavenged being the reason, but it is not unequivocal). and i guess it is truly the question that will always be asked because it's at least the 7th time i get an ask in this spirit.

i appreciate that you want to reply to my ramblings, but i'm sorry, i'm kinda tired of discussing this topic (i like talking to people on here, but also the problem of autonomy is not something that interests me much in terms of jay nor that plays a big role in my reading of him -- i have written way too many academic essays on the meaning of the term to think it's a question that can be answered in a tumblr post about a comicbook character), so i will just copy-paste a fragment from this post that i think answers the sentiment that "every action jason has done has always been 100% his own choice" from here:

so, regarding whether or not everything he does is fully his choice– i think it’s a bit of a reductive presumption and question in general. i’m sorry for getting philosophical but most discussions of autonomy in the field presume that the circumstances someone finds themselves in already limit autonomy a fair share. and at the end of the day, jason’s position in the narrative and in the world he finds himself post-res are so obscure that it is the point that he doesn’t get much choice in how he communicates his grief. and grief and madness are themes that blur into each other too. i think, very much like in hamlet, the question of whether the protagonist is sane or mad doesn’t actually matter much because the extreme circumstances call into question if there’s a “normal” response to this situation at all.

if you want to be realistic about it, you have to ask how much someone who has been raised (in good faith and not fully intentionally) to believe it’s their duty to fight criminals and protect people only to get brutally murdered, resurrected, kidnapped and finally given access to assassin training at 16/17 can be believed to be a fully self-aware and autonomous person.

if you want to think of it in terms of what the story is about, at least the initial stages of it (so the lost days & utrh for example, as well as countdown, if you will) then it doesn’t truly matter that much. this is something that can hold weight if there’s talk of redemption – and in the narrative he’s not alive enough for it as things stand anyway (and sometimes he’s just written as a very much redeemed corpse without any significant build-up leading to it.) to me, a perfect story would address his wrongdoings, but also highlight it's not the core of his personality; but still, this is such thin ice to walk on with all the classism and ableism inherent in his development as a "villain" and "anti-hero."

#outbox #i'm sorry i don't want to sound mean. but this is genuinely the most boring part of jason discourse

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fulcrum021 · 2 years

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Where do I even BEGIN with this.

I wasn’t aware that there was drama going on in the Dinluke tag. You wanna know why?

Because I avoid it like the plague.

Because despite Dinluke being my favorite ship, I’m intensely uncomfortable on the tumblr tag. And what’s left to say but that? I can list all of the reasons and tell you why, but the people causing the problem are just gonna tell me to ignore it and that it’s not a big deal, or blame me for spreading negativity.

And I felt bad before, because I really believed that. I felt bad for spreading negativity in the fandom. I wrote a shorter post about the same issue and I didn’t tag it as Dinluke because I didn’t want to spread negativity. But I’ve come to realize that I’m not sure there’s any reason to worry about the feelings of people who don’t care about the feelings of anyone else.

Y’all realize that many people, especially queer men, no longer feel comfortable here, right? And do you understand that that is entirely your doing? Probably not, because y’all care more about your fetishes than you do real people.

Dinluke is no longer a tag for queer Star Wars fans to share their love for a pairing. Dinluke is just a place for y’all to treat queer men like s3x objects. Oh, and then you blame THEM for feeling uncomfortable and unwelcome in the tag. I’m tired of y’all trying to gaslight queer men in to thinking that they’re in the wrong for not wanting their community to be fetishized. You’re flooding the tag with this shit and we want no part of it. Make your own discord or something, since y’all seem to be so good at that, and post your stuff there. We’re so fed up with it.

And no I’m not adding a keep reading break before any of that, because after all if it bothers you so much then you can just ignore it

All I have left to say is that for the time being I will not be posting Dinluke art. And I already made that decision a while ago, which is why I haven’t posted any in months. I’m not creating content to be consumed by these people. Because even my shitty little doodles are too good for this dumpster fire. I will not contribute to the Dinluke tag anymore. I know some people want to try making a new tag, and if that takes off then I might reconsider, but until or unless that happens I don’t think I’ll be posting Dinluke.

#this is very disorganized but 🤷‍♀️#it’s still better written than most of y’all’s fics soooo #Dinluke

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heretic-altias · 8 months

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FFXIVWrite Day 18 - A Fish Out of Water

As good of an Altais prompt this is, I've touched on her general out place feelings multiple times already so I decided to go back to Kito's early time on the First a little more with this one.

Don’t know my characters? Here’s a basic breakdown to help you out!

Kito could not sleep. Others would be quick to blame the unnatural light slipping through the cracks in his window shutters even in the middle of the night. But Kito knew the real reason.

It was too quiet.

Not in a way anyone else would understand. It had nothing to do with the actual sounds of the city. It was all in Kito’s head. Most people were used to silence accompanying their thoughts. Once, long ago, he would have even been grateful for it himself.

But Kito’s bond with Twintania had given them something unique. A constant sense of each others’ presence, feelings, and thoughts that was hard to explain in words. Their souls were connected, their minds shared one space for two identities. It was never silent in Kito’s mind. Even when they pulled as far apart as possible, Twintania’s emotions were always there on the edge of his mind. The ancient wyrms idle thoughts tended to drift slower than his own, the dragons’ different sense of time showing in her very thoughts. Kito had taken comfort in slowing down his own racing thoughts by matching the pace of his mind to hers.

Now though, his thoughts ran free without restraint. And there were so many of them with everything going on. He had been dragged off to an entirely different world, disconnected from Twintania by the distance across the rift, and his brother was here too somehow. Kito had expected the Scions. Not his insane brother Kotah.

Except Kotah wasn’t insane anymore? If that could be believed anyway. He and the Exarch both insisted he wasn’t like that after spending a couple years on the First. Kito found it hard to believe.

“Can’t sleep?” a voice interrupted Kito’s thoughts, causing him to yelp and fall out of bed in alarm.

Once he freed himself from the tangle of blankets that had come down with him, Kito was finally able to look up to see Ardbert watching him.

“Are you going to haunt me when I sleep every night?” Kito demanded with a hiss.

“You didn’t look very asleep to me. You had the look of a man lost in thought” Ardbert pointed out.

“My thoughts are a little lonely these days, is all” Kito admitted, climbing to his feet and remaking the bed.

“Ah yes, you share them all with that dragon don’t you?” Ardbert nodded as he remembered.

“Can you just leave me alone to sleep now?” Kito demanded.

“What’s really bugging you? I can’t do much these days, but I at least can listen” Ardbert tried again.

“Everything, alright? I’ve been dropped into an entirely different world, and for some reason of all the accidental summons the Exarch managed to pick up my crazy evil brother and everyone insists he isn’t evil anymore! And somehow Twintania was left behind despite him being here! The Exarch thinks she only wasn’t brought here because he was targeting a human, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with this mess”

“I think I get it. Not all of it, but some of it I get. I was in the same situation when I traveled to your world. Everything was strange and unfamiliar. Had my home not been threatened, I might have enjoyed the adventure. I think all of us would have if we had the chance to”

“Yeah, that I get. It’s exciting. I think I’d be more excited about this if it hadn’t come with a thousand problems” Kito sighed in agreement.

“Try to enjoy the journey anyway if you can. It’s what we adventurers do after all” Ardbert suggested.

“I plan to try. There were some interesting flowers I wanted to collect, so I might as well start with that. Are you able to leave me to sleep now? I do have a lot to do in the morning you know” Kito smiled.

“I’ll try not to haunt you in your sleep too much in the future” Ardbert agreed warmly.

Kito turned to adjust the bed one final time and when he glanced back over Ardbert was gone.

What a strange situation he was in. On a new world, being haunted by a ghost.

Ardbert was probably right to suggest looking at it as an adventure. If Kito could slip the extra circumstances to the back of his mind a little more, he might just enjoy this visit to another world.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxivwrite2023

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cherrypeaking · 11 months

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good morning~ how’s my beautiful woman doing? 🥺🩵 i hope you slept well~

i took a preemptive pain killer to drive my cramps away but somehow my body didn’t get the memo so my cramps started coming at full force 😭😭 it was so bad that i tried to get up and run away from the pain but you can’t run from the pain if it’s in your body 😭😭😭😭 so now i’m laying in bed trying to recover djshhss

i’m looking back at our conversation from earlier and it’s so wonderful that we’re so comfortable around each other 🥺🥺🩵🩵 it had me yearning to be by your side already 🥺🩵

aaah i can’t stop thinking about you baby i want to hold your hand and kiss your knuckles >//< i wanna do a bunch of romantic stuff with you 🥺🩵🩵 it’s so funny that we both related to anti romantic so much at one point and now look at us 😭😭 we went from anti romantic to hydrangea love hehe 🤭🩵🩵🩵 it’s funny but it’s also so beautiful and it makes me so glad that we took our time with each other 🥺 i would’ve waited however long for you~ i knew i only wanted you before you even asked what we were djshhs 😳😳👉🏾👈🏾🩵 you’re a lot braver than you let on honestly!! i know you get shy and nervous a lot but you’re so brave to me baby 🥺🥺 so brave and strong and powerful~ i admire you so much 🥺 my baby’s simply the coolest~ 🥺🩵🩵

(taehyun as THEE baby star 🥺🥺⭐️⭐️ i couldn’t choose one pic of tyun or one jirachi pic so here’s a rare 4 pic collage :3)

in other news, i think twitter is back up now so i can go back to tagging you in cute stuff :3 but that app is on its last strike with me idk how much longer i can take the muskrat screwing it over and changing things that never needed to be changed :/ but ultimately it’s okay if i leave twitter bc i have you and a perfectly loving community here on tumblr dot corn 🥺🥺🩵🩵 and as much as this site has its own problems the love and community i’ve found here is worth more than anything any dim witted ceo could mess up 🥹🥹🫶🏾🫶🏾🩵🩵

i love you so much my love~ as always, i hope you have a great day!! i’m here rooting for you my love, my little fairy princess 🥺🩵

P.S look at our themes side by side we’re literally so cute 😭😭😭🩵🩵🩵

my love 🥺🥺🩷 getting to read your ask really made me feel better… and talking to you ultimately… like i told you i woke up from a nightmare but i feel way better thanks to you 🥺🥺🩷 i just had my caramel coffee~ it’s funny that even though you don’t really like coffee, my caramel coffee always makes me think of you 🤭🩷

hmhm :(( i feel like it happens to me too like some period cramps are so painful all you can do is sleep it off?? i’m so sorry like why do we have to go through this :(( im so glad you’re feeling better… mommy deserves kisses and tummy rubs 🥺🥺

i loved our conversation as well >\\\< it was so cute and just like you i love that we get to communicate and feel comfortable to share everything 🥺🥺🩷

mommy 🥺🥺 i would love that so much… i do get lots of romantic thoughts about you my sweetie pie 🥺🥺🩷 please i do find it so funny cause antiromantic was basically my jam i was thinking no bye i’m not going for relationships anymore 😑 and then i met you 🥺🥺🩷 it’s so cute that you think that i’m brave >\\\< i was actually very excited and nervous and anxious and trying to know exactly when i’d be ready 🥺🥺 i want to live what we have to the fullest and that’s when i decided to ask you out 👉👈🩷 to me you’re really the coolest and strongest, my girlfriend is the best 🥺🥺🩷 i remember you were saying the same, no more relationships or maybe just one but then i’m done and i was thinking omg so true queen and then- FHSBFBDB 👉👈🩷🥺 i love you my crystal gem 🥺🩷🩵💎

MOMMYYYYY MY TWO BIGGEST COMFORTS (outside of you~) 🥺🥺🥺 they look so so cute my love 🥺😭🩷🩷 thank you so much 🥺🩷

tbh same :( i feel like i’m gonna be there for much longer unless that rate limit thing is indeed temporary… what sucks is especially for txt content and translations it was really good to have access to twt… i’m happy twitter hasn’t really been on my mind ever since i came here and met you my love 🥺🩷 our cute little community is very much loving and caring and i love being here, way more than there~ so if i had to leave i know i would stay here despite the lags hehe :3 🩷🩷

i love you so much as well mommy 🥺🥺🩷 you’re my queen~ my garden fairy 🥺🥺🩷 im always rooting for you too my love, thank you so much 🥺🥺🩷

PLEASE OMG LOOKING AT THEM SIDE BY SIDE THEY ARE SO CUTE OUR BLOGS ARE SO CUTE 🥹🥹🩷 this tyunning concept is really top tier and we sport it so well as tyuntwinz 🤭🩷

#crystal gem 💎#my love :(((#thank you so much for being here for me i woke up feeling so scared and you were so patient with me 🥺#i love you so much my fairy of crystals 🥺🥺😭🩷#im so so happy i’m with you 🥺🥺 always thankful that i met you at a time i really needed to at least make some friends 🥺#i made a friend who became my girlfriend 👉👈🩷🥺😳#im so happy with you 🥺🥺 i hope you are too with me 🥺

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