#but that doesn’t mean rose deserved worse

[ch-4-eri]

Use Me — Jill Valentine.

jill X fem! reader.

warnings: smut, p in v, strap use, strap referred to as ‘cock’. verbal abuse, very mean jill (oops), overstimulation, spitting, crying, swearing (lots of it) let me know if i miss anything i wrote this at 6am sorry if there’s any mistakes (it is proofread ish).

word count: 2.6k

you tossed and turned in bed as the clock read 12am, typical.

jill’s light snoring is all you could hear as your thoughts wandered and wandered for probably an hour now, steaming glances at jill every now and then.

she came back from her job, ate something, had a little conversation with you, then she quickly went to bed, which you couldn’t even blame her for, jill worked for so long and she does this for the both of you, she deserves her rest.

but your ovulation week had other ideas.

you were an aching horny mess.

tossing and turning made it worse because any movement you’ve made involving your legs would drive you crazier, staying still wasn’t helping either, you were a cat in heat.

as your mind kept you awake, your eyes went to your sleeping girlfriend, jill’s arms hugged the pillow as she was breathing slowly and steadily, she looked so peaceful and here you were, an inappropriate film was going off in your head.

your fingers went to her arm, nudging her slightly. “jill?”

jill groaned in response, her brows furrowed. “jill…” you repeated, wishing she’d register it sooner.

she groaned once more, her eyes fluttering.

“jill… i’m.. horny.” you dropped it, like she wasn’t even half asleep.

“what the fuck..” she mumbled tiredly, her tone groggy but all it did was send your pussy pulsating, you felt so pathetic.

you nudged her arm again. “just wake up..”

“touch yourself in the bathroom or something!” she says, blowing you off with a dismissive hand.

“of course not.. it doesn’t feel as good as when you do it.”

“i’m sleeping.”

“you’re awake now.”

as soon as you said that, jill rose up from the bedsheets with a groan, she was fuming.

one thing about jill is that you knew she hated being woken up for no reason, especially when she needed the sleep so badly, she worked her ass off early in the day and she can’t rest from your whiny little voice and your hormones.

you knew you were testing her but it wasn’t on purpose, the ache inside of you hurt the whole day and you can’t ignore it anymore, even when jill rubbed the sleep out of her angry eyes, sipped some water off the bedside table bottle she keeps on her when she’s dehydrated from her deep slumber.

“i’m getting so fucking tired of you.” jill spat, closing the bottle aside and runs her thick fingers through her short brown hair, you frowned slightly at her words but you deserved it, lowkey, yet all of this was making you even more horny, the ache between your legs was unbearable.

“so fucking sick of you, i can’t fucking sleep in this goddamn house.” jill says again, standing up from the bed, still trying to get herself more awake to deal with you, you were a little happy about the fact that you got her to wake up but she was so moody, not that you deserved to complain about her mood, maybe she’d fuck you but she wouldn’t be nice about it.

she turned to face you as she tucked her hair behind her ears, her blue eyes sit on yours.

“take off your clothes… off. now.” she demands, her tone pissy and controlling.

“w-what?” was all you managed which somehow made jill even more angry, you could swore she would hit you or something, she never did, but she was too patient with you before, you wondered when she’d snap like that? it was sick of you to imagine jill hitting you for asking her for sex like that, jill would never lay a hand on you, not for the purpose of seriously hurting you, she always watches out with the way she deals with you, she knows you can’t handle her full strength.

“you seriously fucking woke me up just to ‘what’ me? take off your fucking clothes! you know what—“ she says her eyes wide open in anger, her face red as her veins popped out of her neck.

jill climed up the bed and grabbed your shorts, pulling them down your legs forcefully as you let out a yelp. “shut the fuck up! i’m so sick of you!” she argued, her fingers found your thin shirt and took that off as well.

you weren’t fighting it, but as much as it was turning you on, you wondered if she was truly this mad at you and it made you anxious, your heart dropped to your stomach at the idea, her tone and the way she handled you clothes, yet you were getting so wet anyway, your mind and cunt had two different opinions about this.

her fingers dragged down your panties, throwing them off the floor. pushing you down onto the mattress, opening your legs with a strong palm separating your knees, you could seriously salivate from this moment alone.

but before she did anything else, she unclasped your bra, she didn’t look impressed in the slightest, yes jill was used to your body, knew you every inch, every freckle, but now that she wasn’t even complimenting you, made your heart drop even more, horny and anxious all at once.

jill threw your bra on the floor with a force, grabbing your face in her palm.

“which part of i’m sleeping did you not understand?!” she shouts, her fingers ghosting your sticky area, it was pulsating, calling her name.

“jill…” you breathed, hoping she’d go easy on you, you were terrified but oh so excited your pussy was tightening around nothing. “are you really that much of a needy whore?” she spats, her eyes narrowed like she was truly shaming you for it, like she was a total prude and would throw rocks at you for behaving this way.

“every other day.. every other week you need me to fuck you, or else you wouldn’t fucking let me sleep!” she slams her fists onto the mattress, making you jump, your eyes watering at her behavior, but so was your dripping wet hole.

“you know what? i will fuck you..” jill heaved, grabbing your face into her fist. “i’ll fuck you so hard, so hard you won’t be able to walk, or even talk. fuck you dumb enough you’ll stop talking altogether and let me have my own fucking peace for once, that’s what pretty sluts like you deserve, should be grateful i even give you the light of day, you’re a brat, and i’m so sick of you taking and sucking the life out of me.” jill spoke, letting go of your face with a force as you shed a tear, her words hurt so bad but you needed her just as badly.

she got out of bed then, the sound of her feet as she went to look for her strap were too loud, putting all her energy in the stomping, you sat up a bit; rubbing your thighs together, wiping the tear off your cheek.

the sound of the drawers opening and closing was all you could hear echoing in the bedroom, jill wouldn’t look at you either, as she finally took out her strap, she walked closer to you in bed, she usually always slid a condom over it as you requested so, saying the feeling of it inside you was a bit uncomfortable, but now that you’re too wet for that she decided to just smear her spit over it.

jill spat on her palm, rubbing it across the rubbery tip so she can slide it in easier, yes she was mad at you, but she hated to think she’d wanna hurt you on purpose.

she climbed on the bed, strap perfectly wrapped around her hips, wet enough to slide inside of you as she parted your legs once again with her hands, positioning herself between your legs, brows furrowed, gaze averted.

you bit down your lip as you watched her get on top of you, her necklace dangling over your head, her tits peeking out of her loose gray tank top, no bra underneath.

she rubs the tip against your hole, teasingly so. “shh.” jill demands as soon as you started making noise.

“fuck you’re so tight..” jill cussed, sliding her cock in as you let out a gasp. “all this fucking and stretching you out didn’t loosen you up? damn girl.” she grunts, surprised at her change of tone, she was fully bottomed out as she started thrusting inside of you, your hands were shaking as they placed themselves on her hips, fucking yourself into her, the tip kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“is that good, slut?” jill says, forcing your chin between her fingers. “i’m not a slut.” you argued, your voice strained as you were fucked out. sweat already breaking out from your forehead.

“sure you’re not… look at you swallowing that cock whole… always begging me to fuck you, always demanding and whining for it.” she fucks into you deeper, making you see stars as it shut you up completely.

“good girl, i like it when you keep that pretty mouth shut.” jill continues thrusting, the sound of your squelching was like music to her ears. “you belong to me don’t you?” she whispered to herself, going faster just to see how you’d react, seeing the way you pulsate against her cock, the way you rock your hips to match her pace with your moans strained and your legs aching.

“hhhhnnn… jill i’m so close.” you managed, your finger nails digging into her waist from underneath her shirt, then your hands grabbed at her breasts, which drove jill crazy to just get you to cum, her pace went faster and faster, her girlfriend’s mouth open, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you squeeze at her tits, your thumb circling her sensitive buds, making jill squirm inside of you as she forced your wrists away with her hands, pinning you down on the bed with one hand, the other taking each one of your ankles and throws it over her shoulders, making the strap go in so much deeper as you let out a choked gasp.

jill had to take a second and look at you like that, sweaty forehead, red cheeks, lips so red and pretty, the position was a little different from every other one you’ve both been in before by her.

but she took a mental note to do this again, legs on her shoulders, your eyes closed and your breathing uneven as she refuses to move inside of you. watching the way your breasts moved as you squirmed and whined underneath her, jill can’t resist you and she knows it, no matter how angry she became, how fucking stubborn she gets especially after a terrible day at work which is every other day, she has a beautiful girlfriend she can use however she pleases, you’re her pretty little thing, her whole world, she’d probably crumble if she came back home and didn’t find you there.

“look at me..” jill softly says, a drastic change from her tone earlier as your eyes fluttered open, staring into her blue ones.

“i love you.” jill whispers as she begins to move her hips forward and continues to thrust inside of you, the tip abusing your cervix as her words made this even more intense and overwhelming.

you eyes watered, recalling her words from just a few minutes ago, compared to this. you couldn’t focus as you got even more stretched out, crying out loud from how good it felt then from how much you feared like you were losing her and this was her last straw.

“shh..” jill whispered once more, her tongue flicking against her bottom lip as she let go of your hands, holding them in hers as she fucked into you so much faster than before, sending the bed rattling against the wall, creeking against the floor while your lips met in a hungry kiss, tongue and teeth clashed as you were chasing your high, sensation so overwhelming you whined into her mouth, jill’s hands grabbed yours as she led you through such an intense orgasm, you were terrified.

you screamed, moaned, writhed, unsure of the noise that came out of you when you gushed all that you have against jill’s cock.

jill noticed.. and she slowly pulled out, mumbling sweet words and kissing your forehead, cheeks, lips, she overstepped a line and she was willing to make it up to you.

“shh.. you did so good, such a good girl.” she mumbled, rubbing her thumb against your cheek as you were trying to get a hold of yourself.

“it’s alright sweetheart… you did good.” she whispers into your ear. “i’ll be back.. okay?” was all jill said as she climbed off the bed, taking off the strap that needed cleaning now, not that you’d notice from how much you were vibrating and overwhelmed.

jill came back a few moments later, a cloth to clean you up and some water to hydrate you.

she carefully sat next to you and helped you sit up with a kiss to your forehead. “i’ve got you.” she mumbled, grabbing the cloth in her rough hand, slowly holding it up your thighs as you were too sensitive, you closed your legs in on her.

“can’t..” you shook your head, keeping your knees together. “i have to clean you up baby..” jill murmured, taking a hold of your thigh once again, cleaning up the cum off it. wiping it all the way up to your sensitive core as you squirmed. “jill.. careful.”

“i’ve got you..” jill repeated, cleaning you gently, watching the way you were limb on the bed, you were breathtaking.

as soon as she finishes cleaning you up and putting you into new panties and clothes, giving you some water as you drank the whole bottle. “easy… it’s not going anywhere.” jill mumbled, climbing on the bed next to you, recalling how mean and disrespectful she was to you early on, making her heart twist into her chest.

she took you in her arms, your smaller frame fit so perfectly into her, you wrapped your arms around her as she kissed your forehead.

“i’m sorry… i didn’t mean what i said.” jill finally said, she can’t let you go on thinking this is how she thought of your relationship, she loves you so much.

“there’s no excuse for me to talk to you like that, not when you needed me. i’m sorry baby..” jill added while wrapping her arms around you tighter, securing you into her grip gently.

“it’s okay..” you sighed, she noticed how non verbal you get after such a loud and messy orgasm, she’s glad it’s not because you were mad at her or resentful of what she said. “it’s not.. i don’t want you to be mad at me though, i can’t take it.” jill whispered into your hair, brushing a hand over your belly.

“i’m not mad.” you finally said after a moment of silence. “no?” “no.”

jill sighed in relief and kissed the tip of your nose, making your eyes close as she pulled the blanket over both of you, hoping you’d get a good night's sleep. she still needed to do so much to make it up to you, you’re her angel.

you snuggled up to her, eyes closed and heavy with sleep. jill brushing your hair with her fingers, her face so close to yours as she watched every flutter of your lashes, every time you opened your mouth and closed it. she leaned in and kissed your lips, unable to get enough of you as you kissed her back, barely, you were probably half asleep.

“i’m not mad.” you reassured her softly, which was enough to make jill go through the night without some exaggerated grand gesture, both of you falling asleep in each other’s arms.

#jill valentine #jill valentine smut #jill valentine x female reader #jill valentine x you #jill valentine x reader #resident evil smut

[doomed2repeat]

I know some people use the argument that Colin “lead Penelope on” as a reason to dislike him or want him to grovel, but that’s putting the fuckboy filter on him that he doesn’t deserve. Saying Colin was leading Penelope on implies some premeditated motive that Colin simply did not have. Lead her on to what? More friendship??

Colin was not leading Penelope on, Penelope lead herself on, I’m sorry to say it. Literally everything Colin did was accompanied by a reminder that they were just friends, with him verbally reminding her they were just friends even, and despite it all, Penelope maintained hope. That’s normal, and relatable (I know I’ve been there), but that doesn’t make her hope Colin’s fault, and with Colin being unaware of it, it especially doesn’t make it his responsibility.

Colin and Pen’s problem was that the way they saw their relationship never matched up from the beginning. From the moment they met Penelope was in love with him and framed their relationship around that love, while Colin only saw friendship. This is one person in the friendship catching feelings and trying to romanticize platonic aspects of that friendship. Penelope was always primed to treat his behavior with rose colored glasses and hope, while Colin was absolutely oblivious to how she was taking his friendliness, and worse- he couldn’t recognize her crush because that is how she’s always acted with him.

And as their childhood friendship developed into their adult years, Colin didn’t transition into treating Pen like an adult woman that he should distance himself from, because he still saw her as his friend and didn’t realize anything had changed. This is pretty much the problem behind the “You do not count” situation. Colin means he could never stop talking to her because of their established friendship, while Penelope hears “you do not count as a woman.”

Colin might’ve been acting in ways that were inappropriate for a regency man and woman to do, but within the context of them being friends for years, from before her debut, it’s obvious that Colin was just continuing childhood behaviors - not changing them in a way that would lead Penelope on- because Colin didn’t see any reason to change them. He doesn’t see a girl with a crush, he sees Pen, his old childhood friend. He didn’t think to be careful with her romantic feelings because he doesn’t know she has any. He doesn’t think to be careful with her reputation because he doesn’t consider this longstanding friendship to be scandalous.

If Colin was more situationally aware, the only way to avoid this whole thing would be for Colin to have stopped interacting with Penelope outside of basic politeness once he realized her crush on him, but as we all know, Colin doesn’t consider Pen someone he could cut off, and he is not situationally aware. And so yeah, we’re all groaning because as viewers we can see all the little ways Colin is overstepping and braking social rules, but do you really think Colin sees it?

“Leading Penelope on” implies that Colin was intentionally playing with Penelope’s feelings to get something out of her. But this is a true “Oblivious Colin” moment. Give the boy some grace, he just didn’t know!!! It’s a friends to lovers story. Colin is just in the friends phase. It might be frustrating until he falls for her, but it’s what we signed up for!

#Colin’s POV matters to the story #there are two sides to this #also a reminder how the friend zone has been used against women #polin #bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #friendzone #friends to lovers #Colin’s POV

[secretagentsagainstwhatever]

‘Dazzling starlet Bardot reincarnate’

‘Well aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist?’

#it’s so them coded #omg #pls see the vision #doctor who 2005 #doctor who #rose tyler #martha jones #my beloveds #i love them both so much #lacy olivia rodrigo #lyrics #it’s a different type of jealousy #it’s a different type of pain #music #relatable lyrics #tenth doctor #martha jones deserved better #but that doesn’t mean rose deserved worse #they both should of got their happily ever after #but that isn’t how it works with the doctor #when you love the doctor it’s like loving the stars themselves #etc etc #the doctor is not stupid enough or sentimental enough and he is certainly not in love enough to find himself standing with me #paraphrasing #this is their song #i decree it #billie piper #freema agyeman #lacy oh lacy

[webslingingslasher]

Care less

for the frat!peter girlies.

Peter blames his aunt. 

May went and raised him to look forward to the middle of february. She would make little boxes and handwritten notes tied up with a fun-sized candy bar. May told him it was a day to celebrate love in its entirety. For a friend, for a teacher, for just the sake of love existing everywhere you went. 

Except, not everyone likes valentine's day. Some even hate it. Some would loathe the day so much that Peter feels like an idiot for caring. Dinner reservations that were going to be ignored, flowers that would go wilted and chocolates that were never going to get eaten. 

Peter has a handful of nothing and the one time he really wanted to outperform himself, it was brushed off and it was his aunt’s fault for getting his hopes up about valentine’s day. He had been so thoughtful too, planning weeks ahead to book a dinner slot and a fun date. Not to mention the mini fortune he spent on roses, not that you were a giant fan of roses but every girl deserves a bouquet on valentine’s, even if they triple in price. Peter even bought a second bunch of your favorite kind, just to prove he cared. 

It meant nothing. His efforts meant nothing and maybe he shouldn’t have assumed, but he never thought that you’d hate the holiday. It was a day entirely built around feelings, around love- and you just rolled your eyes at him. 

“I fucking hate valentine’s day.” You said it like it was nothing, taking two bites of a banana and handing it over to Peter. He asked if you were excited, maybe even hinting at that you should be excited. Peter Parker was about to romance the hell out of you. But not anymore. 

“Explain that one for me?” A toss, the peel falls into the trash can. You shrug as if you’ve never thought about it before, but it’s something you’ve held in your chest for as long as you can remember. 

“It was a holiday created by girls who didn’t feel loved enough by their boyfriends, or something. I think the practice is stupid, you should treat me good and do nice things for me everyday, not just once a year. And everything is crowded! Everyone has the same lame idea about dinner and a movie and flowers and… it’s just not something I buy into.” 

Peter feels every bit of him curl up and die inside. Valentines is his third favorite holiday, he adores the pinks, reds, and purples. He loves seeing couples of every stage, the beginning stages or lifelong partners. They all love the same; with everything in them. 

“Well, actually, I do have a confession. Chocolate covered strawberries. They’re outrageously expensive, but I buy them every year. If you’re wondering, I was hoping we could boycott the baby holiday and eat some strawberries or something.” 

A small lift in his heart, it’s something. You’d be happy with one thing and he could deliver that, but first he has to try and sway you, right? Peter needs to preach what valentine’s is about, he needs you to understand how lovely it is. 

“I’m surprised you hate it so much. I figured you’d love it, since it’s pink and feelings, and stuff.” You wink at him, you think it’s a joke and Peter’s in the same boat as you. “I know, right? It always seemed so gimmicky to me, I think.” 

“That doesn’t mean it’s bad.” You pretend gag, Peter feels his heart sink into the hollow of his chest. “You’re right, it’s cringy and that makes it so much worse.” Peter doesn’t agree, not even in the slightest. Nothing about it is cringy, there’s nothing embarrassing about showing you love someone. 

“Right. It’s cringy and a gimmick and everyone who participates is stupid.” Maybe he’s a little cynical, it hits harder when you nod with exaggeration. “So glad you agree, petey!” He doesn’t. Peter couldn’t be further away from your opinion but he’s really not in the mood to be shut down or judged, so, he just changes the subject and tries to ignore everything crumbling apart in the back of his mind. 

“Isn’t this cute?” 

You squint your eyes when you read the card, a tiny smile shows. “It’s cute. Not worth…” You snatch the glorified cardstock and flip it, your eyes widen, you pretend to choke on the dollar amount. “Ten dollars, holy shit. For some glitter? Fuck that.” 

You want it out of your hold, scared that if even a speckle spread you’d be forced to buy it. “What happened to the good old days of making your own card? My mom used to eat that up.” 

Peter delicately sets the card down, he tries to see it how you do, but he can’t. Sure, it’s wildly marked up, but wouldn’t your partner be worth the price? Peter would buy the moon for you if he could, a ten dollar Hallmark card won’t be his holdup. 

But, maybe you’d like a handmade one more. He can do that. 

Peter’s trying to be mindful of your opinion while also planting the seed that valentine’s isn’t all that bad into your brain. It’s days away and all he can hear in the back of his mind is ‘I fucking hate valentine’s day.’ 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Peter- do you fucking see this?” 

A romantic gesture? A public display of love and admiration? Dozens of carefully inflated heart shaped balloons? A girl crying into the arms of her friend while her partner showers her with flowers. Is it the love? Is that what you’re pointing out? 

“Yeah, it’s-” 

“Disgusting.” 

“-cute.” Peter frowns, is that what you really thought of valentines? Nothing was swaying your mind, Peter thinks that you’re more solidified in your mindset than before. 

“I’m sorry, trouble, but I’m finding it hard believing you hate valentine’s day.” It’s like he just called you a slur, you pull your hand from his and stuff it into your jacket pocket. 

“I don’t hate it, I loathe it. What do you see watching that? Personally, I’m seeing gravel covered flowers and wasted space that turns into deflated balloons. Fuck that.” Peter shakes his head, you’re seeing it wrong. “It’s about the gesture.” 

“It’s about how you love someone so much, there aren't enough things in the world to buy to show it, and there are never the right set of words to say it quite right. I’ll buy all the flowers in the world for you, and I’ll use all the air in my lungs for these balloons but it’ll never match the love I have for you.” 

Peter clears his throat. “That's what I see, anyways. I think valentine’s day is an excuse to be a little cringy and basic because we all want that sometimes.” He might’ve finally broken through, but you crack a grin and bump your shoulder into his. 

“Ah, yes, because I’m so unfulfilled that a man has never gotten me a teddy bear for valentine’s day.” Would you want one? He could get you one. Or could that be a reason you might detest the holiday, not that he’d ever take your opinion for resentment or bitterness. 

“Have you ever had a valentine?” A small stumble, your hand is tied into his again. “Besides elementary, nah. And honestly, I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.” 

‘I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.’ But, now you do, don’t you? 

“Trouble, you do realize you’re my valentine this year, right? And I’m yours?” You feel your breath catch, no, you hadn’t realized. It’s always just been another day for you and you assume the same for Peter, it’s not like there was much to celebrate. 

“It’s also just a day that ends in Y.” Is that really the answer you have? It’s just another day to you, even if you finally have someone to claim? You might not care about the holiday, but Peter does and he’s going to get his valentine’s day, no matter what. 

And you’re going to enjoy a handmade card. 

And a teddy bear. 

Peter’s finger-combing his hair after a shower, he’s had the reservation for weeks, but he also wasn’t aware of your detestment towards red hearts and arrows. 

“Wanna grab some dinner wednesday?” If he didn’t say it by name he’s hoping you won’t scream bloody mary on him. “Sure.” A smile washes over Peter’s face, it drops in a second. “Wait, isn’t that valentine’s day? Ha, yeah, no thank you. You, me, and the entire city? Fuck that.” 

‘Fuck that, fuck that, fuck that.’ Weeks boiled into nothing. “But, if you wanna cuddle and watch a movie I’m down.” It’s something. He’d get to give you flowers and a card and a teddy bear and he can’t forget the strawberries. You told him you loved them. 

“Good with me, trouble.” 

Peter tried to sway your mind, he tried to make you enjoy the love and glitter and colors. But you hated it all. So all he has to do is ditch the flowers and the dinner and just… do nothing. 

Peter’s first real valentine and all he has to do is… nothing. 

Three rose bouquets tossed onto his closet floor, it was haphazardly done. Petals scattered around the cellophane, some even reached to his shoes. They were thrown in without care, they were hidden. 

But they were beautiful. A few front buds have taken a beating, but the others were fully blossomed and lively. You’ve never seen roses in such a vivid red, their petals almost like velvet under your fingertips, their smell unlike any other. 

The thorns have been expertly shredded, nothing but smooth, soft stems in their wake. It doesn’t matter if Peter didn’t mean to have you see them, they were too gorgeous to leave locked away in a dark room. They deserved the affection water and sunlight would give them. 

You clutched all three in your arms, the weight welcomed. You laid them out nicely across his bed, the third bouquet dropped a small card and you picked it right back up. 

‘Trouble- 

This day was made for you. 

Charlie’s at 8. 

Yours, 

Peter’

You bit back a smile. Charlie’s? It’s nice, too nice. And expensive. Peter got you reservations at Charlie’s? Holding the card to your chest you nearly squeal, you have no idea how he kept the secret from you. Or the roses. 

When you hear his bedroom door open you spin, waiting for him to be in the doorway so you can place a thousand kisses. Instead it’s Ethan and he looks surprised. “You’re here?” He points to the flowers, “Peter gave you those?” 

“I found them in his closet, he just tossed them in here! And he must’ve forgotten to tell me about Charlie’s.” Ethan doesn’t smile with you, he’s not sharing any joy. For a second you start to wonder if you were the person who was supposed to receive the gifts. 

“He didn’t forget.” You scrunch your face at him, “I think he did and I need to start getting ready now. Ethan, do you know how nice Charlie’s is? It’s fucking fancy.” You’re not prepared, you don’t have anything that screams Charlie’s worthy in Peter’s closet. 

“No, you’re not hearing me. There is no Charlie’s and there weren't supposed to be roses. I was supposed to get them before you got here, but, here we are. No roses and no Charlie’s.” You smack at his arms, pulling at his fingers to drop your flowers. 

“They’re mine!” Ethan’s on a mission to steal them, and he’s not being gentle. 

“No, you didn’t want them.” 

You watch him for a second, how could he say that, of course you want them. Thirty six reminders of Peter, how could you ever say no? You fight for what's yours, Ethan allows you to keep one bouquet. 

“I do want them!” 

Ethan’s not being nice to you tonight, he’s gruff with his response. “No. You didn’t.’ 

“You keep saying didn’t! I never said I didn’t want…” 

Except you did. Just like you said you didn’t want to get dinner with Peter. You feel terrible, you feel like crying. He’d had this planned for weeks and the whole time all you did was poke fun and degrade the holiday not knowing you were crushing him behind the scenes. 

You wanted the flowers, but you didn’t deserve them. You hand over the last bouquet silently. 

“I think it’s best if you pretend you didn’t see these.” You can’t imagine the ache Peter must have in his chest, he planned something out just for you to stomp all over it. It’s not about the value, it was the gesture. He can’t tell you how he feels, but taking you out to one of the nicest places in the city, where you know it has a month minimum reservation list makes you understand him just a little bit better. 

“This is so bad, Ethan. This is so,” you suck in air, “so bad.” 

“It’s not terrible,” a crinkle when he shifts weight. “But it’s not great.” You wince, if you could, you’d go back in time and shove your foot in your mouth, or tell yourself to shut the fuck up. 

“Well, I mean, what the fuck?! It’s fucking Peter! How was I supposed to know he was pro valentines day?”

“How was he supposed to know you were anti valentines day?” 

You sink to the bed and hold your head in your hands, “I just want Peter right now.” You want to hug him and kiss him and tell him how sorry you were. Ethan hesitates for a second, before stepping closer to lay the flowers across your lap. 

“You found them. They’re yours.” You protect them from being taken, but still have self-pity. “I don’t deserve them.” Ethan scoffs, “of course you do. Everyone deserves pretty flowers.” 

You pout at yourself in the mirror and fix any smudges. Brushing out any stray wrinkles your newest dress might’ve made on the way over. Ethan had very kindly instructed a pledge to pick you up an outfit so you could change before Peter got back. 

With minutes to spare, he’s back and taking a deep breath at your appearance. “Wow.” A surprised hum when you kiss him, you wipe red from his bottom lip while you apologize. “I’m so sorry, petey.” 

“For what?” A look around the room, red roses give him the reason. “Oh. Hey, it’s no big deal and I-” A frown when you silence him by holding a finger to his lips. 

“I’m sorry. I found those flowers and all I could think about was you and how much it meant to me that you got those for me, then I saw the card and I couldn’t believe you got us reservations and I just felt… special. I’ve never had a valentine, but I get it now. It’s just a day you get to dote on me extra hard.” 

Another surprise kiss, “and if you didn’t already cancel I think we can get to Charlie’s on time. But if you did, that’s okay. Because I think those are the most lovely flowers I have ever gotten, and I might have seen a little teddy bear in there but I didn’t wanna get too presumptuous.” 

This time, Peter kissed you. “There’s also a homemade card.” 

“You didn’t!” You fall in closer to his chest, his hands can have free reign tonight, you wore the dress just for him. 

“I did. I even wrote a little poem.” 

A chaste kiss, “just when I think you can’t get better.” 

“There’s also glow in the dark mini golf planned for after.” A peck, “so thoughtful and handsome.”

A whisper, he’s got blown pupils and hoping he’d get another kiss. “And your strawberries are in the fridge.” 

Your hearts about to explode, “fuck, I love-” you stop yourself, but you heard it and so did Peter. He brushes it off, “love?” Fuck it, you’ll both keep circling around it. 

“Yeah, I love love.” 

A hungry kiss, a squeeze to the back of your thighs. “Yeah, I love love, too.” 

#frat!peter blurbs #peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #uni extras

[libraryofgage]

A Place Like Steve in a Boy Like This

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three (you’re here!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One Queen Clarisse (also on the way and also a modern royalty au cuz I got the urge to write one so bad lmao)

This AU was line-jumped on Ko-Fi, which means y'all got it sooner!

If you want to line jump your favorite series, you can learn more here

I hope y'all enjoy this part! It was a lotta fun to write, actually, since I got to talk about folklore I'm more familiar with lol

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

----

Steve huffs as he kicks a pebble down the street. It bounces a few times before settling on the sidewalk, doing nothing interesting enough to alleviate his boredom. He turns around, squinting against the sun shining in his eyes, and looks at his parents. His mother is speaking quietly to a woman with a shawl around her shoulders, both of them bent over some book that definitely should have been crumbling by now. His father idly taps at bricks on the building next to them, looking relaxed but alert.

Steve glances at the building his parents are avoiding, the one the woman with the shawl walked out of. It’s a pale, faded yellow, the kind that tells him the building is old, old enough to have seen wars and generations pass it by. Shingles line a low roof, but something that’s either incredibly durable wood or stone so old it’s turned brown makes up the vaguely mountain-shaped top that reaches to the sky. Steve studies the building, his eyes wandering until he sees the door cracked open on the side. 

He takes a slow step towards it, checks that neither of his parents noticed, and takes another. This continues until he’s in the shadow of the building, his fingers brushing against the wood. It’s cool against his skin, and the door isn’t nearly as heavy as it looks. He pushes lightly against it, an eager feeling building in the pit of his stomach as he slips inside.

A dimly lit hall made of stone sprawls out in front of him, and Steve hums softly as he passes by the paintings and scraps of scroll that are framed along the wall. He recognizes Hebrew on all the scrolls, but he doesn’t linger long enough to read any of it. Instead, he continues to walk, glancing through an opening that leads into a sanctuary. The opening is to the left of the bema, and he’s momentarily caught by the ark that contains the Torah. He can’t even see the holy scrolls, but something in his spine jerks and he’s overwhelmed by the urge to open the doors so he can gaze upon them. 

He’s already going to get in trouble for slipping inside, though. Maybe he shouldn’t make it worse. Steve grasps this thought tightly, holding it in his mind until he’s able to tear his gaze away and continue walking down the hall. Other than that opening, there’s only one door left at the very end. It, too, is made of wood and opens far easier than Steve expected.

Shafts of sunlight stream in through narrow windows, illuminating dust that floats in the still air of an undisturbed staircase. Steve looks down at the first steps, crouches, and drags his finger carefully over the stone. A layer of dust comes off, and Steve comes to the conclusion that nobody has been up these stairs in a long, long time. 

With a grin, Steve begins to climb. 

The stairs wind up and up, far higher than Steve thinks should be possible given the height of the building itself, but what does he know? He just focuses on climbing, on reaching the top as he passes narrow window after narrow window, breathing in stale air that stirs in his lungs and builds. Strangely enough, he’s not breathless from the climbing, but from something else entirely. He isn’t able to name that feeling until he finally (finally) reaches the top of the stairs. 

As he stands on the top step and looks over the loft spread out before him, he realizes it was anticipation. Like the stairs, this attic-loft is covered in dust, untouched by people for a very long time. A large window is opposite the stairs, allowing sunlight to stream into the area. The space holds a desk, a bed, more books than Steve has ever seen before, and a statue.

Steve stares at the statue, licks his lips nervously, and steps into the room. He doesn’t spare the books or anything else a second glance, instead making a beeline for the statue. It’s huge, towering over the twelve-years-old Steve even though it’s sitting. Its legs are crossed, and its hands are held palm-up just above its navel. The statue is round and smooth, not a straight edge in sight. It doesn’t have a neck, and its head is like a little bump on its shoulders, just big enough to hold triangle-shaped divots for eyes. Carefully placed next to the statue is a small clay jar and a paintbrush.

Without thinking, Steve picks up the jar and looks inside. Golden-hued paint shimmers inside, and Steve wonders how it hasn’t caked over or disintegrated after all this time. He tilts the clay pot a few times, watching the paint slide against the edges, and then looks up at the statue again. At second glance, he sees that the statue’s head is big enough for more than just its eyes. He could probably write on it, too. 

With that thought, Steve grabs the paintbrush and very carefully pokes his foot against the statue’s leg. It seems strong enough, so he climbs up, following the statue’s calf to its knee. From there, he carefully holds the paintbrush with his teeth so he can steady himself on the statue’s arm. Once he has, Steve pulls himself up onto the statue’s hands, finding himself at the perfect height to reach its forehead.

Steve holds the paintbrush and dips it into the jar. The brush comes out covered in the gold paint, and Steve pauses, looking at the statue’s forehead.

He remembers a story his mother once told him about this very city, this very building. It involved a statue like this one, a golem, that was brought to life to protect his mom’s ancestors. Steve hums softly and carefully paints aleph, mem, tav on the statue’s forehead. His mom will find it funny when he brings her up here to show her the “golem” he found. 

As he finishes off the tav, giving it a pretty little flourish just for the fun of it, the ground beneath him jerks. No, not the ground. The hands he’s standing on. Steve yelps, losing his balance and about to fall only to be cradled and carefully set on the ground.

Steve blinks, looking up at the golem to see it leaning down and staring at him expectantly. “Uh. Hi,” he says, breathless as he receives a small nod and wave in return. “Holy shit.”

Before he can say more, he hears a familiar voice in the distance shouting, “Steve! Where are you?”

Keeping his eyes on the golem, Steve sets the jar and paint down, scooting back along the floor until he reaches the top of the stairs. “I’m up here!” he shouts, hearing a muffled curse and the slam of a door far below. He sighs and stands, slowly approaching the golem.

“You’re really real,” he mumbles, stopping in front of the golem as he hears someone running up the steps.

He turns just in time to see his father reach the attic, guns at the ready, and panting from adrenaline and the climb. “What the fuck is that?!” he shouts, aiming the guns at the golem without thinking. 

“Don’t shoot it!” Steve yells, barely getting the words out before he’s scooped into the golem’s arms and completely covered by its hands. The world goes dark, and he’s pressed close enough to the golem’s chest that all he can smell is pomegranate and the old ink and paper of Talmud studies. 

“It’s holding you captive, and you’re telling me not to shoot it?!” his father asks. 

“It’s protecting him!” his mother shouts, her voice shrill and panicked enough about his father shooting a golem to make Steve almost laugh.

Steve wiggles around, tapping the golem’s chest. “Those are my parents,” he says, “Please let me down.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, the golem does, carefully and slowly placing Steve on his feet once more. Its hands stay on either side of him, looking ready to pull him back into its protective embrace. His father looks harried, but his mother looks awed as she steps forward. The golem allows her to approach, and she carefully runs her fingers over the golem’s arms. “This is amazing, Steve,” she says softly.

“Can we please step away from the dangerous statue now?” his father asks, taking a step forward only to stop when the golem suddenly stands and towers over him. “Uh, what’s it doing?”

“You’re not Jewish, Rick,” Steve’s mother says, looking over her shoulder. “The golem is a protective figure in Jewish folklore, among other things. It’s most famous stories are about keeping Jewish towns safe from pogroms. It’s wary of you.”

“I’m your husband!” Steve’s father protests, angrily shoving his guns back into their holsters, “And Steve’s father! We should be on the same team!”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, walking over to his father and taking his hand. “I just have to introduce you.” With that, Steve leads his father over to the golem, placing his father’s hand on its arm, and saying, “This is someone you should protect, too.”

----------

After explaining everything, with plenty of interruptions from the kids after they came running back into the living room to escape Uncle Jonathan’s gin, Steve’s parents demanded to see the lab where it all started. 

And now they’re here, standing in one of the lower levels, surrounded by dead vines that still haunt Steve’s nightmares on particularly bad nights. If he’s lucky, he won’t have one of those while his parents are home, but Steve has never really called himself lucky in situations that don’t involve life or death. 

The wall that once held a gate to the Upside Down is nothing more than charred cement, reduced to a jagged line of something Steve really hopes is soot and not, like, disintegrated demogorgon. He carefully makes his way through the vines, avoiding them when he can and holding his breath whenever he has to step on one. 

“Did you know this was a lab?” Rick asks, his voice echoing in the hall ahead of them. 

“Of course, not,” Evelyn replies, and Steve can picture the glare she’s aiming at him. “I wouldn’t have let our son live here if I’d known.”

“Well,” Eddie says, “I, for one, and very relieved Stevie lived here considering several of us would be dead without him.”

“Me, too,” Dustin says.

“Me three,” El says.

“I think Steve and I would’ve found each other even if he wasn’t in Hawkins,” Robin says, nudging Steve’s ribs with her elbow as she grins. “Platonic soulmates can’t he kept apart.”

Steve snorts and stops when he reaches the wall. He looks around and notices the corpse of a demodog a few feet away. Or, well, he thinks it’s a demodog corpse. “Stay here,” he says, tightening his grip on his bat as he takes a step closer to it.

“Hold it right there, young man,” his mother says, her tone bringing him to an immediate halt. “Your father will go towards the monster, and you will stay a safe distance away.”

“Gee, thanks for asking,” Rick mutters, rolling his shoulders as he makes his way over to the demodog corpse. He studies it for a second before just kicking the thing with his foot. Steve nearly jumps in to yank his father back, but stays frozen in place by Robin’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

His father kicks the corpse again, and Eddie suddenly asks, “Why do I feel like this is disrespectful?”

“Because it used to be alive,” El offers.

“It’s definitely not anymore,” Rick says, crouching down and using the barrel of his gun to push back one of the petals on its head. “Shit, what’s it need so many teeth for?”

“The better to eat you with,” Steve says, earning a snort from Robin and Eddie.

“And there were how many of these?” Evelyn asks.

“Dozens. Like, multiple packs, and they were all connected by this hive mind kinda thing,” Dustin explains, walking over to the corpse with no fear. “I mean, they weren’t all bad. Dart was okay.”

“He ate your cat,” Steve says.

“Yeah, and then he didn’t eat us in the tunnel.”

“I can’t believe you were facing these things and didn’t use your guns to spare some girl’s feelings,” Rick says, looking at Steve over his shoulder.

“I can’t believe you didn’t just use the golem,” his mother says, frowning as she turns to Steve. “I mean, you know where it is, dear. You know how to bring it to life.”

“A golem? Like…from Lord of the Rings?” Dustin asks.

“You had a golem? Why didn’t you tell me you had a golem?” Eddie asks.

“How did we not think of the golem? Holy shit, we’re dumb,” Robin says, smacking her forehead with her palm.

“I couldn’t trust that it wouldn’t hurt one of my friends,” Steve says, ignoring Dustin for now. “It would only protect me and Robin. If something happened to one of us, it would abandon the kids without question. What’s the point then?”

“Hello! Confused people over here!” Dustin shouts, getting their attention. “What golem?”

“You know,” Robin says, “like…of Prague.”

“No, still lost,” Dustin says.

Steve sighs, about to explain it when Eddie beats him to it. “The golem is from Jewish folklore,” he says, tilting his head as he looks at Steve, “It was created and brought to life by a rabbi in Prague to protect his congregation from pogroms and acts of antisemitism. There are debates on why he had to disintegrate the golem, though. Some stories say it started killing innocent people, others say it fell in love, and others say the congregation were using it to do chores instead of letting it focus on protecting them.”

“Yes, exactly,” Evelyn says, smiling at Eddie and nodding with approval, “The golem doesn’t speak much, but it can answer basic questions. According to it, Rabbi Loew removed its aleph because it requested to go to sleep.”

“Oh, so it just wanted a nap,” El says, nodding as though this makes perfect sense to her.

“You said you had the golem,” Eddie says. “Where?”

“At the house,” Steve replies, watching as his father stands from the corpse and drags Dustin away from it. “I keep it in the locked room downstairs.”

“You said that was your parents’ room,” Dustin says.

“No, you assumed it was, and I never corrected you.”

“Can I see it?” Eddie asks.

Steve looks up, meeting Eddie’s gaze. After a few seconds, he nods once and looks at his parents. “Did you see what you wanted?” he asks, “Can we head back?”

“Yeah,” Rick says, frowning as he nudges a vine with his foot. “I’ll come back later with Ardeth. See if he knows anything that might help.”

“What do we need help with?” Dustin asks. “The portal is closed for good. We closed it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with making sure,” Evelyn tells him, smiling reassuringly before turning back the way they came. “Now that Rick and I are here, we’ll do everything we can to make sure those gates never open again.”

“And if they do,” Rick says, bringing up the rear as the kids follow Evelyn, “we’ll take care of it. You kids don’t need to put yourselves in danger anymore.”

Something in Steve settles at hearing this, his next exhale taking all the stress that had made its home between his shoulders with it. For the first time in a long time, he thinks about something normal. He glances at Eddie and Robin and thinks about going to see a movie with them, drinking at the lake, and just being stupid teens that don’t have to worry about interdimensional monsters.

------

Tag List (there should be room still! So, if you’d like a tag, let me know!)

@trueghostqueen, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @mogami13, @blcksh33p1987, @beawritingbooks, @remus-is-trans, @your-confused-friend, @estrellami-1, @nburkhardt, @vacantwatchers, @yeahhhh-suga, @phantomcat94

@blackpanzy, @ape31, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @plantzzsandpencilzzs, @flustratedcas, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @just-a-tiny-void, @disrespectedgoatman, @fallingleavesinthewind, @nymime, @nectandra, @moomkin77, @nadenia, @resident-disappointment, @copper-arrows, @romanticdestruction, @rowanshadow26

@nadenia, @northernlight-witch, @steddie-as-they-go,

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #the mummy 1999 crossover #rick o'connell #evelyn o'connell #jewish steve harrington #jewish robin buckley #robin buckley #the party stranger things #the golem of prague #steve deserves good parents actually #anyway golem of prague my beloved you didn't deserve to be made into a monster by modern media

[shokopan]

WE DON’T NEED THINGS LIKE MEMORIES  .  MIYA ATSUMU

PAIRING: atsumu x gn!reader

GENRE: fluff/comfort and the tiniest bit of angst if you really squint

WORD COUNT: 0.7k

CONTENT WARNINGS: cursing

AYA’S NOTES: i was sifting through my old folder of haikyuu fics i wrote last yr && remembered how much i loved this fic when i found it :DDD

“what’s wrong with saying that i'd date you if we'd met in high school?” you inquire, clutching your legs tight to your chest as you rock towards atsumu slightly, deliberately falling into your boyfriend's chest as he swiftly snakes an arm around your waist to steady you.

“nothing babe, i swear,” he instantly replies, untangling your fingers from each other to replace one with his free hand, “you just didn’t know me then! i wasn’t too great of a guy in high school if i’m being honest. you probably would've ended up crushing on samu or aran kun, maybe even kita san. he's always been pretty good looking and had tons of girls admiring him,”

“and remember when we first met in uni?” atsumu continues, eyes lowering down when he senses a newfound warmth as you envelop both of your hands around his.

“when i told you off for picking a fight with sakusa san?” you answer, recalling the boiling outrage you felt towards him years prior, "and proceeded to call you an irritating prick?"

“and i fell madly in love with you? yup,” atsumu grins cheekily before faltering by the slightest, "i was basically like that in high school, but way worse,”

“i mean i’m not as bad now, i hope. but yeah babe, i don’t think you’d date me if you knew how i acted then,” atsumu shrugs with , “and i wouldn’t blame you, y'know? dating an asshole sounds rough,”

“tell me about it, i’m dating one myself,” you giggle, bumping your shoulder with his as atsumu sulks, “kidding kidding! but what changed? you’re so sweet to me now tsumu, i can’t imagine you being any bit worse than that day we met,”

“fallin’ in love with you, that’s what changed me,” atsumu responds earnestly, shifting around and wriggling his hands from yours to cups the softness of your cheeks.

“tsumu! don’t say stuff like that if you don’t-“ you protest, moving your face down to bury it in atsumu’s large palms in embarrassment.

“i’m serious! honest!” atsumu protests, sliding his palms down to your jawline and lifting your face to level with his eyes, “you make me a better man babe, my parents, and even samu have said that. but you make me always want to be better because you deserve the best and i love you,”

warmth creeps up your cheeks as a faint soreness materializes, bringing attention to just how wide you’re grinning now, “i love you too tsumu,”

“you better love me! this conversation is making me fucking sad, thinking about how shitty i was. i better draft some emails or something to my old coaches and team for being such a pain to deal with,” atsumu chuckles, brushing the locks away from your face as he admires you for a brief moment, in awe of just how perfect you are when smiling.

“you’re absolutely perfect now,” you beam, taking your turn to cocoon your hands around atsumu’s jawline, “so so perfect,”

“damn right i am,” atsumu puffs his chest out, his signature childish yet endearing pride returning. his cheeks are dusted rose, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily, “i’m working hard babe, gonna be the absolute best boyfriend for you to make up for shitty high school tsumu,”

“good to know,” you giggle, “but you’re already the best boyfriend tsumu, it doesn’t matter how you were in high school. you’ve grown and matured since then, and there’s no need to make up for the past. it’s like your old school's motto, right? we don’t need things like memories. we don’t need to dwell on the people we were in the past. i love you now, and isn’t that what matters?”

“you’re too good to me babe,” atsumu groans playfully, hugging your waist as he buries his face into your shoulder with mild chagrin, taking in your sincerity as his blush grows fiercer by the moment, “i love you so much,”

“i love you too tsum,” a soft smile replaces the cheesy grin as you dip your head down the place butterfly kisses on the exposed part of atsumu’s jaw, “and i’m glad we met. really glad,”

you feel atsumu smile into your shoulder as he lifts his head up, a dorky grin plastered on his face as he kisses you, pulling away momentarily after as he whispers, “me too, i’m grateful we met that day,”

#aya's fics ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ #atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu scenarios #atsumu x gn!reader #atsumu x gender neutral reader #atsumu imagines #atsumu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gn!reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n

[cosmic-day]

Further spoilery and negative thoughts about martha and the giggle under the cut

So I am far from alone in observing that two of RTD’s companions get a Doctor of their very own and one does not, and many of us have called foul on that. And I’m seeing a lot of pushback against that along the lines that Martha doesn’t need or want a Doctor of her own, because she’s moved on/so strong/happy without him/wouldn’t want him/he doesn’t deserve her/all of the above.

And of course, yes, I agree with all of that. And it’s not that I *want* her to get her own clone, for the record I thought that plot twist was dumb and insulting the first time, and even worse the second time, so I’m not eager to see Tennant Number Three go off with Martha in the Seventieth.

But. The point is the double standard. The point is Martha being forgotten, never even mentioned or acknowledged. The point is the treatment of the favoured companions versus the neglected companion. The point is the narrative twisting itself into pretzels to reward Rose and Donna, and Martha’s love and sacrifice going unacknowledged. The point is who the narrative cares about and who it doesn't.

And there’s something about the discourse around Martha being so strong and brave, because she recognized a toxic situation and got out that’s just a bit convenient, isn’t there? Because, yes, of course, it’s admirable that she chose to leave. And it’s good that she has, apparently, built a happy life for herself (not that we ever get to see it or hear about it because that would be too much effort.) But isn’t it lucky how that means we never have to see her again. Isn’t it convenient how that means we never have to address the harm that the Doctor did to her. Isn’t it fortunate that we can just pretend the Year That Never Was had no effect on her. Isn’t it interesting that her trauma is just swept under the carpet. Isn’t it lucky that we don’t have to think about the way the Doctor belittled her and undermined her all while expecting her to crawl over broken glass for him at a moments notice.

Fourteen is settled down in one place to grieve and heal and address his trauma, but that should also mean looking back and reckoning with his past, and with the things he got wrong, and that absolutely should include addressing how Martha was treated. IF you cared about her character at all.

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #dw spoilers #martha jones #the giggle #cosmic posts #tumblr kept eating drafts of this and i swear there's a version that's so much more articulate #ah well

[khepiari]

Hyped Up Rambling: Spoilers for ONE PIECE Chapter 1104

There are many daddies in One Piece.

But there is only one person who deserves the title of FATHER!

And it’s you, sir Kuma.

As much as I have grievances with Odachii, this is an arc written by a father for his daughter.

Parental love hurts. But still, parents continue to love their children despite the pain, loss, fear, and hardship.

Again I am reminding you all. The series finale actually began exactly two years back when Luffy punched Saint Charlos.

Kuma just continued the fight that Luffy lit the fire for! As my best friend put it, “Kuma is following in Joy Boy’s footsteps. Bringing light to the world…”

Even a “slave”, stripped and robbed of all his rights, mental prowess, and dignity and abused to the point of being on the brink of death will FIGHT TO PROTECT! A slave who lost everything rose up on his two feet to protect his child and punched the man who sits on the highest seat of power, and Joyboy aka Luffy made it possible.

And do you know who the people in power fear the most?

The slave they robbed of autonomy.

The scholar they denied true knowledge.

The ethnic groups they massacred.

And the God Born Out Of People’s Despair who comes to seek vengeance.

AND KUMA IS ALL!

May I also remind you all, Borsalino is worse than Sakazuki, he is a scum without any hope in him or in anyone. He is scarier than a straight-cut villain like Sakazuki.

There is a reason idealists are easier to defeat than cynics. You can’t beat a deadbeat easily.

My favourite rascals! Franky and Sanji have no chill! They went after Saturn, without any fear or hesitation, just like they went after Saint Roswald, Doflamingo and Big Mum. Their brain operates on: we are Future Pirate King’s Crew, we will kick anyone who is a scum!

I still can’t believe so many people hate Franky! The dude has literally the least count of losses and the funniest battles! Because he doesn’t fight one one-on-one guy, and he shines in the fights when minions and their bosses are involved against lone him! In Dressrosa he ran wild; kissed a girl (yes without consent; thanks scum Odachii) to defeat her, had a hard-boiled match with Senor Pink, destroyed the SAD factory and went to support the fairies on his own! And In Wano he ran his monster bike right into Big Mom’s face and knocked her out! We need more Franky love!

And finally!

I don’t like to pit series against series, but this is how you utilize the most cliché theme in the entire world: LOVE. You have to show it with actions and gestures and not tell it to your readers. Yes, Gege, I mean you brat; do better.

Why do you think we the readers and viewers still crumble at the theme of love? It’s extremely simple.

Love is radical.

Love is unpredictable.

Love is powerful.

And time and again in One Piece—Love is an Anomaly.

Ace was born because of Rouge’s willpower born of love.

Sanji was able to retain his humanity because Sora did everything in her power to protect her kids.

Robin was saved because her teachers, mother, and Saul loved her so much that they chose to protect her.

Nojiko and Nami had a chance to live because Bellemere protected them.

Trafalgar Law made it through a life-threatening disease and nihilistic approach to living because Corazón bet his life on him.

Hiluluk’s love for Chopper pushed him to be the doctor who wanted to cure everyone.

Zoro’s love for Kuna is what pushes him to work hard.

Because Franky wants to protect his “Family” he becomes the face of criminal activities.

Shirahoshi never revealed her mother's death circumstances because she decided to protect her mom's dream.

Examples of love changing the course of history are endless in One Piece, hence we should remember: Love is the invariant.

#one piece #one piece spoilers #one piece meta #one piece manga #one piece manga spoilers #one piece 1104 #one piece 1104 spoilers #monkey d. luffy #one piece kuma #bartholomew kuma #joy boy #sun god nika #trafalgar law

[frozenjokes]

Something Somber, But I Hope At Least I Can Do My Best To Help You

there are guns in this fic, this is the warning for that. she’s (the fic) is a tad angsty

“I’m going to kill you now.”

Grian stood in the shallow water, holding some sort of human device in his hands. He was alone today, but it was possible Scar was just recovering from his injuries at home. That would make sense. However, Mumbo did find it a little odd that Grian hadn’t brought much of his stuff, the bag left in the grass looking deflated in comparison to how full it usually was. Grian wasn’t moving very much, very stiff as he pointed whatever he was holding at Mumbo’s face. He looked.. a little upset? It didn’t really look like he wanted Mumbo to have it, he was holding it so tightly, but Mumbo was getting a little confused about what exactly the purpose of this was.

Mumbo leaned a little closer to sniff, but Grian winced, taking a couple steps back. Well. Guess that answers that. Mumbo’s fins rose and fell on his back and head, twitching with annoyance. Why did Grian call him over if all he wanted to do was stare?

“What,” Mumbo said, hoping Grian would at least try to explain whatever it was he was holding and why he wanted to show it off, but Grian remained stiff, lips pursed.

“You don’t get it. You don’t- I’m going to kill you, and you don’t understand. Do something. Get mad or hiss at me or lunge or something. Defend yourself.”

Ah, so he was upset. If he was trying to communicate why, he wasn’t doing a very good job. Mumbo wasn’t even sure if this was about Scar; he didn’t think so, Grian never said Scar’s name, but he wasn’t sure what else. Wait, could he still be mad about the whole bag stealing thing? That was so long ago! If that was the case, that was sufficiently a Grian problem, learn to let go of a grudge, buddy.

“What,” Mumbo asked again, hoping Grian would do a better job at explaining himself.

Grian huffed as if his own inability to be clear was Mumbo’s fault, “This is a gun. Gun,” Grian moved the device a little in his hands, but didn’t hold it any less tightly, “I am going to shoot you with it. I am going to kill you.”

Mumbo stared blankly. Alright, the thing he was holding was a ‘gun.’ Great. Was he going to show him what it did, or were they just going to sit here for another twenty minutes. Mumbo didn’t mean to be so impatient, but honestly, Grian was being stupid and Mumbo’s tail was still in quite a lot of pain, worse in the shallows.

“I can’t- you don’t get it. And you know, it’s nothing against you. It’s not. Well..” Grian paused, thinking, then shook his head, “No, it’s nothing against you, even if you stole all my shit and fucked up my ankle- I might have a limp for the rest of my life, y’know! I probably won’t. But I might! You tore through all sorts of important shit in there.”

Mumbo wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be understanding what Grian was saying, but the human didn’t look like it planned on stopping, so Mumbo let it be. Still, he kept a slightly warier eye.

“And I’m not sorry, by the way. About your tail. You deserved that as far as I’m concerned, stealing my stuff then trying to sing me into the water after I was injured- I know your game. That’s what you guys do. You kill people. At best you’re like- like a public nuisance. But you’re dangerous, I know you’re dangerous and I..” Grian trailed off, looking away, “I’m just afraid Scar doesn’t know.”

Ah. There it was. So this was about Scar.. oh, Mumbo hoped he was okay. Scar hadn’t looked like he was hurt too badly, but then again, anything could have happened. The bite could have gotten infected or was deeper than Mumbo had thought, or any other number of things. Given how upset Grian seemed to be, something must have happened.

“Scar doesn’t have a very strong sense of self preservation, he never has, and it drives just about everyone in his life up a wall. I don’t know why or what’s wrong with him or if he’s got some sort of mental health issue he isn’t addressing, but it’s always been this way and- and he just gets so focused. Like he gets an idea in his head and he literally can’t think of anything but pursuing it. And when I say literally, I mean it. He doesn’t think about anything else! I don’t even know if he can! You would not believe how much he talks about you, it’s all ‘Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo! Mumbo this, Mumbo that,’ and because we have to keep you a secret, all of this goes to me and-” Grian cut himself off, taking a second to breath.

“It’s not that I care. Scar can talk my ear off all he wants about anything he wants. Sure, it can be a little much and I get frustrated with him from time to time, but at the end of the day, he picked me, y’know? There’s a guy that can talk his way into anything he wants, who can make friends with basically anyone, and he still.. he wants to talk to me. And that’s a special thing, y’know? Scar is a special kind of guy. And it just kills me when he tries to throw his life away!” Grian kicked up sand and water as his voice rose through gritted teeth, and Mumbo jumped back, startled, though he immediately regretted the motion, hissing in a soft whine at the pain that pulsed through his tail. Grian stared at him for a long while, still pointing his ‘gun,’ but his shoulders fell.

“He’s going to be mad at me. For killing you. Doesn’t matter how many times I said I was going to or how many times I told him he couldn’t interfere if I let him come and see you. He’s going to feel bad, then I’m probably going to feel bad, and we’ll probably both feel very bad for a while, but it’ll be fine because Scar will be alive. That’s what matters, in the end. Not mermaids, not money- well, actually I won’t go that far. I’m going to sell the shit out of your body and I’ll probably be very well off for the rest of my life. I think I’m allowed to want that too! I think that’s fair.”

“And I’ll have you know, Scar’s not innocent either, he still wants you in his zoo even if he doesn’t talk about it around here anymore. As if you’d even understand. I’m telling you to your face I’m going to kill you and sell all your body parts and you couldn’t give less of a fuck. It’s impressive almost, how neutral your face is right now. You look a bit like one of those dogs from those kennel ads? All of them looking all sad with the sad music trying to make you feel sad so you go out and adopt. That’s how you look all the time. It’s the eyes. All big and dark like that. Ugh.”

Mumbo wasn’t sure what to do. Clearly this human was in some kind of distress, but the more it talked, the more he was sure he had no clue what was actually going on. Had it come looking for some sort of comfort? Why Mumbo? Out of everyone Grian knew, surely Mumbo was the least qualified by far.

Did.. he know anyone else? Humans were social animals, Mumbo knew this, but mermaids were too, and even despite this, some had trouble fitting in. Mumbo had never seen another human other than Scar hang around with Grian.. maybe while Scar was healing and resting, he just didn’t have anyone else to go to.

Well, Mumbo knew a few things about humans. They liked to talk (loudly) and yell at each other (loudly) and call each other’s names and be obnoxious to each other for fun. Though, given Mumbo did not speak human, this seemed out of the question in terms of things he could do to help.

Humans.. liked touch. Mumbo was pretty sure of that, no matter how foreign it always seemed. Scar was always touching Grian affectionately, and despite the latter never looking all too thrilled, he never really reacted negatively either, sometimes even visibly relaxing. Is.. that what Grian was looking for?

Mumbo steeled himself, less for the pain of maneuvering in shallow water and more for reaching out his hand toward the human ahead. Sure, maybe they’d had a rocky start, but Grian was clearly in distress. If Mumbo could show him that he cared, maybe Grian would understand he meant to be friendly? Even still, he found his head and body cringing back in anticipation of The Touch, though he kept his arm extended, one eye still watching anxiously.

Grian looked.. well, honestly, Mumbo couldn’t tell if he was any more or less distressed than before, but it felt a little bit different than before?

“What.” Grian said, looking rapidly from his gun to Mumbo to Mumbo’s hand, eyebrows pinched, “What is this. What are you doing.”

Ah, yeah, that made sense. This was pretty radically different behavior for Mumbo; if he was on the other side of it, he’d be wary too. Though, he didn’t quite have the words to explain himself. For a moment Mumbo considered singing, something soft and somber so Grian might understand his intentions, but given how the human reacted last time he sang.. no, that would be a bad idea.

‘Red,’ he whistled instead, “Grian.” Mumbo’s gills flared gently, frustrated. Why was this so hard. Maybe Grian was put off by how uncomfortable Mumbo looked.. maybe looking a little less like touching Grian was one of the top ten worst things that could possible happen to him would be a start.

Mumbo strained to get a little closer despite the pain, holding out both of his arms instead of just the one, palms up. He managed to open both of his eyes, though they were still pretty narrowed in the bracing anticipation of something unpleasant. He even tried to face Grian completely instead of shying away, though he couldn’t quite force himself to manage that entirely. Grian’s mouth hung open, like breathing that way might give him more information on what exactly was happening here. Unfortunately, intention was not something humans could smell.

Grian slowly, slowly lowered his gun, not letting go, but not holding so tightly either, leaving it in one hand at his side. His arms were shaking- actually, mostly of him was shaking.. Mumbo wasn’t quite sure what that meant. Likely a symptom of human distress; it didn’t seem voluntary, quite unlike the quivering of mermaid fins when they were very angry.

Mumbo snapped back to reality when Grian moved, taking a slow step forward. Then another. Then another.

‘It’s okay. This is okay. I’m sorry about Scars, and I’m sorry you’re worried. I think you’re worried. That human seems like it’s survived quite a few injuries though, I think it’ll be okay. I thought you were going to hurt each other, and even now, I’m not entirely sure you weren’t. Mermaids have thick skin. You do not. Humans are too fragile, you can’t be fighting each other like that.’

“You’ve been watching us, haven’t you. I mean, of course you have, but this is.. I guess you’ve really been paying attention. Is that what we sound like to you, just all sorts of nothing speech all day? I bet that gets annoying. I’ve never heard you talk this much. I guess your language is also pretty complex. It must be, unless you’re just repeating the same few concepts. It’s hard to tell. Are you really that intelligent? Wow, if you knew what I just said you’d probably be offended. But I just- I mean you’re just a big fish, yeah? It would be crazy to just assume you had comparable intelligence just because you kinda look like a person. But that’s what Scar thinks of course.”

‘I have no idea what you’re saying, but I’m pretty sure this is how human conversation works. You take turns talking for long periods of time and stare very uncomfortably at each other’s faces. This is a foreign concept to me, Red. Humans are extremely weird.’

“It’s funny how when you’re saying one of our names the clicking stops. Did you do that just for us? So we’d be able to say them? I just assumed some mermaid words didn’t have clicks, but you don’t stop. You don’t stop at all actually, it doesn’t even look like you breathe.”

‘Is this the appropriate time to speak. You humans don’t pause for very long before another one starts talking. My arms are getting tired, are you going to touch them and feel better or not.’

Mumbo almost thought Grian understood, because at nearly the same time Mumbo spoke, it moved forward another step, far closer than what was comfortable, though, to be fair, this entire experience was uncomfortable. Couldn’t Grian just reach out and touch Mumbo’s hands from as far away as possible? What was the point of getting this close?

“You look. Uncomfortable.” Grian cringed back, demonstrating the word and gesturing vaguely to Mumbo before his neutral expression returned. “Uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable! How did he know? Mumbo had gone through so much effort to look friendly and inviting, he hadn’t even bared his teeth once! Mumbo took a moment to inspect himself, a few quick embarrassed clicks escaping his throat when he saw every single one of his fins across his back flared out and on end. Even the big one at the end of his tail was all spiky and sticking out of the water, goodness. Mumbo forced them all down at once, re-presenting his arms.

Grian laughed, which Mumbo was 90% sure was a happy sound, and then relaxed a little more, waving his hands in a ‘no’ gesture.

“I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want me to, Mumbo. I’m not- Do you just think that’s a human thing? Lots of animals enjoy physical contact y’know, we actually domesticated a ton of animals for the sole purpose of petting them. I have to think you guys also enjoy it, at least with each other. You’re just flighty with humans, and I’m guessing lots of other stuff in the water. Do mermaids get eaten a lot? I can not imagine that being an issue. You’re huge.”

Grian backed up a little, but not out of fear. Just.. stepping away. Mumbo dropped his arms, somewhat relieved, but a tiny part of him was also a little annoyed. Clearly there was something magic about human touch, and Mumbo was kinda starting to want to know what the fuss was about. But Grian kept its distance now, and Mumbo didn’t think he would be able to convince it to approach him again. Shame. Though, admittedly, it was nice to not have his personal bubble be so thoroughly invaded.

“Hey,” Grian said, grabbing Mumbo’s attention back, “This isn’t- I’m still going to kill you. I’m going to.” It raised its gun half heartedly, but stopped, dropping it with a huff and a little stomp of its foot. “If you hurt him. Scar. Again. If you even touch him I’m going to- I won’t hesitate. If you kill him I’m going to- I’ll be really upset. So don’t. Do that. Clear? Are we clear?”

Mumbo stared. Grian stared back.

“Are we clear? Yes or no.”

“What,” Mumbo said, deeply confused, but Grian only huffed. Mumbo flicked his tail fins with a short hiss, ‘I don’t speak your dumb language, if you want me to understand then tell me clearly.’

“Don’t sass me.”

‘I don’t like your tone.’

“Shush!” Grian drew a finger over his mouth and Mumbo copied the gesture, flicking his fins. Grian threw up his hands like he’d been mortally offended, turning immediately on his heel. Humans. So dramatic. Internally, Mumbo noted the gesture for later as something to use when the humans were being particularly annoying.

“Whatever!” Grian declared, not looking at Mumbo as he spoke, “I’m leaving!” He marched away out of the water, stomping and splashing as he left in what Mumbo was sure was a conscious effort to be as obnoxious as possible. Amused, he began his careful backpedal into deeper water, sighing contentedly. After a minute, Grian seemed to be quite offended when he looked back to see Mumbo also leaving, yelling and calling out and being a total nuisance, but Mumbo ignored him, relieved to be out of the shallows.

Scar was all kinds of odd, but Grian felt like a different beast sometimes. Scar was predictable in his weirdness, completely baffling, but consistent. Grian felt like he reacted differently to the same exact situation every time, the one exception being when he felt he was in danger, in which he would just scream. Loudly. Shrilly. Only sometimes justified.

Maybe it would just take a little more time.

Scar was easy; easy to impress, easy to speak to, and easy to watch- Mumbo would say Scar was easy to be around, but that wasn’t quite the case with his chronic lack of environmental awareness, always swinging his arms and moving erratically. But at this point Mumbo was used to it. In a way, that erraticness was predictable too; Mumbo knew to keep a little more space between the two of them because of it. But Scar was an open book, and Grian clearly wasn’t.

He was guarded like Mumbo was, and that was a good thing. Scar’s carelessness was written all over his body, and Grian had his moments of impulsive stupidity, but Mumbo didn’t worry for his life like he did for Scar’s. Briefly, he wondered if Grian worried about Scar as well.

#the last of these I have written so far #thank you for the support :) #hermitcraft #grian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fic #do I dare tag this as grumbo #I won’t but if you see this then YOU know that’s where it’s going #tw: guns #cw: guns #mumbomaid au #hermitfic

[bullet-prooflove]

Garden Party: Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x Reader

Tagging: @aaronhtchnrs @rosaliedepp @mysoulisasunflower @kabloswrld @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @justreblogginfics @witches-unruly-heart @infinity-mars @pimosworld @beardedbarba @est1887 @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @spookyboogyuniverse @corruptedcoffin @nu1freakshow @@oureternalbond  @the-wandering-lunatic @thebaileybugle @proceduralpassion @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @thanossexual @the-wandering-lunatic @thebaileybugle @justreblogginfics @deekaag

Prequel to Come Up for Air

Frankie meets you at a garden party of all things. It’s his sister’s birthday and he’s spent weeks building the bar out of pallets, because he’s ‘handy’ and his morning stringing fairy lights across the top of the fences, along with fake roses to make the place look ‘magical’. It’s not even a big birthday.

Lucia is two years younger than him and has always lived extravagantly, his little sister deserves the world, but he wishes she wouldn’t whine about how his truck brings down the neighbourhood every time he parks it outside her house.

As he stands underneath the strings of light and looks up at the night sky, he realises that she may have been right about the vibe they bring to the garden. There’s an ethereal air to the place, the flowers accentuate the plush greenery making it seem like botanical wonderland.

He doesn’t know anyone here except Lucia and her husband Dave, the TV Exec. He knows fuck all about what Dave actually does, only that he makes an alarming amount of money. Frankie’s only been home a couple of months and honestly, he kinda sucks at making friends. He’s too quiet, Lucia tells him, too lost in his own head.

How could he not be? He thinks. The shit he’s done. He can’t burden anyone with that. There are only three people who can understand him on any level, and they are certainly not at this party.

A couple more minutes he thinks. He’ll stay a couple more minutes before making his excuses.

That goes completely out of the window when you literally bump into him. He doesn’t know how it happens because he’s standing stationary for Christ’s sake. You’re in the midst of apologising when he reaches out a hand to steady you, his warm palm coming to rest upon your shoulder, thumb accidently skirting your collarbone. It’s the first physical contact he’s had with anyone for a while, and it makes his heart thud even harder in his chest.

When he looks into your eyes he knows he’s in trouble. They’re a stunning shade, the hues bleeding into one another. He’s told women they have beautiful eyes before but with you he means it. The words slip out of his mouth before he can take them back and you tip your head back and laugh. It’s a musical sound that strikes a chord somewhere deep down inside of his soul.

“Pretty bad huh?” He says smiling despite himself.

He doesn’t do this. He doesn’t approach women, he doesn’t hit on them. Every single relationship he’s been in, he’s fallen into.

“I’ve heard worse.” You reply.

He can see it, you’re a striking woman. He’d sure you catch a lot of guy’s attention. There’s no ring on your finger and he feels a surge of hope.

“I bet you have.” He says knowingly, taking a sip of his beer.

It starts from there, the two of you sitting at the makeshift bar long into the night. You’re warm, companionable. He learns that you’re a writer for one of those sketch shows he’s seen on TV, that  you don’t usually tell people that. You list the professions that you’ve made up during your tenure on Tinder, each one becoming more creative and silly the longer it goes on. He finds himself laughing for the first time in a long time and he’s forgotten just how it good it feels.  

“Because they’ll ask for tickets?” he asks, questioning the reasoning behind it. He’s old fashioned, he prefers actually meeting people instead of using apps.

“Mostly.” You tell him before deliberating. “I also don’t want them to have that part of me. Remember this it isn’t a long-term connection I’m looking for; I just want to get fucked.”

Heat creeps across his cheeks and he takes a swig from his beer in an attempt to hide it. He finds your openness refreshing and it emboldens him. He hasn’t had this much fun in a long time, he can’t remember the last frank conversation he had.

“And why is that?” He asks you.

“My schedule.” You say with the shrug of your shoulders. You gesture to the space around you, it’s getting late, or early depending on how you look at it. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, bathing the garden in an orange glow. Most of the guests have gone home and the entire yard is in a state of disarray. Frankie can see his sister sprawled out on the couch through the French windows, a blanket haphazardly tossed over her. “Everybody’s going to bed, but this is the golden hour for me. The work I do, the pitching, the rewrites, the editing, the filming, it all happens overnight. It’s entirely nocturnal. You can’t ask anyone to get on board with that. People think they can handle it but they can’t.”

He senses you’ve learned that from experience. That there’s been a boyfriend or two in the past who’ve called it quits because they couldn’t deal with it.

“I’m an insomniac.” He reveals to you, his hand clasped around his beer. “Sometimes when I can’t fall asleep, I drive around the city with the radio on, get out of my own head for a little while.”

“I get that.” You tell him with a smile. “The city is different at night, it’s quiet, it feels like it’s settling.”

You’re not wrong. He sees a lot of shit you don’t see in the day time, but it’s the peacefulness that he enjoys. There’s less traffic on the road, the streets are quieter. He thinks the nightlife suits him.

“The good thing about that is that I know all the good places to eat…” He says checking his watch. “… at four thirty in the morning.”

“Are you asking me out for breakfast?”  

“Would you come along if I did?”

“Yea.” You tell him. “I think I would.”

“There’s a place around the corner.” He tells you, touching the edge of his cap. It’s a nervous gesture, because only now does he realise the enormity of his actions, that the night is shifting towards date territory, and he hasn’t been on a date for a very long time.  “We can walk it?”

“Sounds like a plan.” You say as you climb off the barstool. Frankie follows suit, helping you into your jacket before the two of you slip out through the garden gate, trying to make as little noise as possible. There’s a giddiness to it, he feels like a teenager sneaking out of his parent’s house to meet a girl.

Out on the street he’s surprised when you capture his hand in yours. They fit together perfectly, your fingers entwining with his. It’s been a long time since he’s held someone’s hand, even longer since he’s met someone who he connects with.

“I like this.” He says, his thumb ghosting along the inside of your wrist.

He sees the blush creep up your cheeks and he can’t help but smile because it’s just so fucking adorable.

“Good.” You tell him. “Because I like it too.”

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#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales

[blond-jerk-tourney]

Honey Bracket: Round 3, Poll 1

Rose illustration by @wraith_ly on twitter!

Propaganda from submitters Under Cut

Rose Thorburn Jr.

uhh. i can't actually give or read full rose propaganda because i haven't actually. Finished reading the book. and i guarantee she does some real heinous shit when she gets back that i don't know about yet. but rose fucking sweep. rose thorburn kill them with demons.

She certainly doesn't get *less* jerkish across the story, I can tell you that

Rose is literally responsible for multiple people getting CONSUMED BY DEMONS. She was LITERALLY designed to be a Machiavellian piece of shit and it’s only by pure luck that she has any kind of heart or compassion, greatest girlboss I’ve ever seen, bless her heart (she deserves hell)

Rose thorburn was given a sapient clone of her but if she was a better person (and also a guy) to use as a sacrificial lamb slash meatshield against the assembled magical and karmic forces attempting to kill her for her family's history of using demons for Evil Shit & in response she knowingly manipulated him towards those ends while selfishly seeking emotional comfort from him, e.g forcibly hugging him despite being fully aware that he has intense trauma around touch + finds it triggering. she is a cunt. she is an icon. she is knowingly allowing herself to be possessed by the literal incarnation of conquest because it's making her better at being a cunt. and that's just in the part of the obscenely long webnovel i have actually finished thus far

Dorian Gray

Look okay every film adaptation has gotten this wrong but in the original book Dorian has blond hair and blue eyes and is described as looking "like an angel." also his whole thing is that he ends up being a hedonistic brat and is canonically so mean to he girlfriend sybil at one point that she... uh... vacates the story with some poison. he also killed his totally not gay buddy basil after he found the portrait.

the original hedonistic brat. my son that i am always disappointed in. had two shots at love and decided to be a dick about it. has a haunted portrait that gets uglier each time he sins. what a guy, really.

Dorian drove a lovely young girl to suicide and I think that's worse than men dying

Dorian killed the man that was in love with him (Basil) because he found out about the painting and didn’t want to get exposed as being the horrible person that he is. Also all the stuff with Sybil (the girl he manipulated and drove to suicide) Also Sybil’s brother is so righteously angry at Dorian for the event that he hunts Dorian down to kill him. He doesn’t succeed cause dorian destroys the painting first. Like, even his last stand was a bitch move. Dorian was a coward to the end and died alone in an attic after pushing everyone that loved him away with his terrible actions.

#honey bracket #honey bracket round 3 #polls #tournament polls #pactblr #pact #pact web serial #rose thorburn jr #dorian gray #the picture of dorian gray #blond jerk tournament

[peekaboo-icyou]

“Cramps”

So you’ve been on your period for a couple days now and your cramps have gotten worse and worse. You didn’t sleep all night because of how bad you felt, so when Wilbur woke up at 4:30-5:00am to get ready for work he gently shook you awake “baby…wake up…” your eyes fluttered open and you groan “hm…” he smiles softly “do you need me to stay home today and take care of you?..” you shake your head softly “I-I don’t want you to miss work because of me plus your men have been doing your work because you’ve been staying home with me” he sighs “will you be ok?” You nod, he sighs and gets up and gets ready for work and you fall back asleep, 20 minutes later you hear him trying to quietly sneak beside you and set a few things on your bedside table “Wil?…what are you doing?…” he mutters something angrily because he woke you up “I was just getting a few things to help you feel better…” your heart melts because of this “t-thank you baby I’ll see you when you get home…” he kisses you softly and he kisses you before quietly walking away and shutting the bedroom door behind him. 3 hours later you get out of bed after suffering for 2 hours of not being able to get up without feeling like you just got stabbed 37 times in the stomach, and right after you got out of bed you got back in bed and watched movies while drinking tea and laying on a heating pad until you felt the worst pain you have ever felt before, when Wilbur got home he went up to your shared bedroom and when he opened the door he was met with you curled up in a ball sobbing, he quickly ran over to you “baby what’s wrong?” He cradles you in his arms “shhhh…it’s ok baby please calm down and tell me what’s wrong…” you sniffle “I-it hurts…” he runs his fingers through your hair “I know love I know…just let me take care of you” he Carrie’s you to the bathroom and sets you down on the counter before turning on the bath and pours bubbles and rose peddle and a bath bomb in the bath “do you need anything else my love?” “C-can you get in with me?” He smiles “of course darling” he undresses you and sets you in the tub before getting undressed and getting in the bath with you “feel better?” “A little” he smiles and lays down and you lay on his chest, after your bath he Carrie’s you to your bed even though you protest and he gets your comfiest pjs “can you please do what you need in the bathroom so I can dress you, love?” “I can dress myself” he pouts “why wont you let me take care of you” “fine” you go to the bathroom and do your business and walk back to the bedroom and Wilbur picks you up and lays you on the bed and dresses you “comfy?” You giggle “very” he makes sure you comfy in bed and puts your favorite show on “I’ll be right back darling…” he hands you your favorite of his sweaters and leaves, 30 minutes later he comes back with a tray of your favorite food and snacks “aww…” he smiles and puts it on your lap “need anything else?” You smile and tear up “no…” he cradles your face “hey hey what’s wrong…” you sniffle “I-I don’t deserve you…” “shhh never say that again you do deserve me I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you I mean I’ve killed people I’m a mafia boss and you this sweet innocent person who wouldn’t hurt a fly” you hug him “thank you Wilby” he chuckles, you both sit there and cuddle while watching movies and eating snacks until he gets a call he sighs and mutters “god dammit” he answers the phone “what do you want?” There’s talking on the other end but you can’t make out what the person is saying “you guys can handle it didnt I tell you my wife wasn’t feeling well. Thank you for taking care of my work I’ll be back tomorrow if she feels better” you frown “bubs you don’t have to stay here with me…” he smiles softly “oh your to kind for this world” you both cuddle the rest of the night and you ended up making him go to work the next day despite his protests.

This has literally been in my drafts for a month and a half

#wilbur x reader #wilbur x y/n #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x you #wilbur x reader fluff #mcyt x reader #mcyt wilbur #mafia au #wilbur mcyt #wilbur dream smp

[coolgal5]

STARMAN- A. STEENBECK

Auggie Steenbeck x GN reader

Part two. Part one can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/coolgal5/738171031067443200/starman-a-steenbeck

After Dr. Hickenlooper had given the tour you noticed Woodrow glancing over to the “Bleeps and Blips” seemingly intrigued by them. Dr. Hickenlooper had walked over and began to discuss it with him. Dr. Hickenlooper called you over and told you Woodrow’s theory about it being a date on the galactic calendar.

When it came time to eat you decided you’d sit down with Midge and Auggie again considering they were really the only people you had interacted with so far. When you walked over the the table and sat down across from Midge when Auggie had been asking about her glasses, which she responded to by taking them off revealing what seemed to be a black eye.

“Gadzooks, what did you do to deserve that?” He asked

“Nothing.” she quickly shut him down.

“Who hit you?” He pushed further

“Nobody, it’s grease paint, to feel like my character.” She explained.

“How does she get a black eye? In the story” He asked.

“Well she doesn’t in the story, it’s on the inside.” She explained

Auggie turned to you, examining your face up close.

“You didn’t mention you were an astronomer when we talked last time” He stated, now focusing all his attention onto you.

“It never came up.” You replied, glancing down at your plate of food on the table in front of you.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name, mind telling me?” He asks.

You replied with your name very bluntly. Talking to him came so easy, like it was meant to happen.

“That’s a very nice name.” He says, nodding

Your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

“Oh thank you.” You replied quickly.

You continue to chat with Auggie and midge until you decided to walk back to the motel until you had to go view the astronomical ellipses.

You sat by the bathroom window of your bungalow smoking a cigarette. The warm breeze of the desert combined with the setting sun was very refreshing. The window facing yours was open and a light was flicked on to reveal Auggie standing there clutching a piece of paper.

“So I suppose we’re neighbors” You flash a smile at him.

“I suppose so.” He states before holding up the paper. It was the photo he had taken of you, Midge, and Dinah at lunch earlier in the day.

“I’m glad that came out, I approve.” You say, leaning farther out the window and pressing your arms against the sill. You and him sat there, in comfortable silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

“Can I take another photo of just you? Not for publication purposes” He asked

“I thought you never asked permission?” You replied. He simply shrugged and held up his camera.

“Don’t move” he ordered.

A snapping was heard and he put the camera down, leaning up against his own window sill. He stared into your eyes and you decided to utilize a sudden burst of confidence.

“Are you married?” You asked the question that had been on your mind earlier.

“I’m a widower, don’t tell my kids by the way.” He responded. Your chest felt a pang at his reply. Nobody deserves to lose a wife and you felt even worse for his children. You recalled how you felt after you had lost your mother.

“Why? I mean I wasn’t planning on it, I’m sorry” you replied

“Yea, they know by the way, just barely.” He says, looking at the ground.

#jason schwartzman #gideon graves x reader #scott pilgrim vs the world #asteroid city #auggie steenbeck x reader #auggie steenbeck #scott pilgrim takes off #wes anderson

[glazemeda]

aster first of all congrats on 200 dear! you deserve those and many many more <3 your writing always puts me at ease and makes me super happy /gen 🥺💕 for your event, how about i, k, l, o, x for kazuha please? thank you so much and please dont overwork yourself! remember to take breaks, sleep enough and stay hydrated mwa!! 💗

note; tysm hori! i'll do something better, here you go, the full alphabet for the pretty samurai<3 tags; slight angst here and there, mostly cheesy and fluffy, not edited.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Kazuha is someone who enjoys being outside, even more with you by his side. He’d like to take trips with you, whenever you want to go, and he keeps those memories close to his heart. The memory of the sun caressing your skin so beautifully will be one he’ll think of when he needs inspiration.

But, your lover likes to be close to you no matter what you’re doing. If you prefer to stay inside, he’s okay with that, he should take a break from traveling sometimes, so he’ll stay with you, reading together or writing a sweet haiku for you. Quiet evenings where he can rest his head on your lap are his favorites.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Your lover can’t answer a question like that. Is there something not to admire about you? Is there something about you that isn’t beautiful? The answer to both of those questions is a no. He admires everything that makes you, you, be it bad or good.

Kazuha thinks you’re the very meaning of beautiful, you’re the most gorgeous sight in his eyes, your smile shines more than the sun, the red on your cheeks reminds him of the prettiest roses… Don’t ask him what he likes about you, unless you can listen to him for hours and don’t mind ending up with a completely red face.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He’ll stay by your side, leaving enough space as to not make it worse, and tell you that he’s there for you. If you’re alright with touch, the ronin will gently place his hand on your back or your arm, and encourage you to take slow, deep breaths.

One his fingers will softly repeat shapes on your skin, or gently tap with a certain rhythm to help you focus. Take your time, he’ll remind you, he won’t go anywhere. He’ll also encourage you to match his breathing, if doing it alone it’s difficult at that moment.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Kazuha focuses more on the present, rather than past or future. His dream is simple: to stay by your side and give you a reason to smile. He just wants to hold your hand, to have you in his arms, and kiss your lips.

He prefers to not think too much about the future, as many things could happen. He wants to enjoy your time together, right now, without caring about anything else. But of course, he hopes you’re still there, waiting for him to return from his travels, as years pass.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Right in the middle. Your lover is good at adapting, so if you want him to be more dominant or passive, he’s alright with both. You’re pretty equal most of the time, though, but it’s more of your personal preference.

Kazuha doesn’t mind that kind of thing, as long as your relationship goes well and the two of you enjoy being together. It may depend on the day, your mood, or any other factors.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Fights with Kazuha are extremely uncommon, as he makes a big effort to communicate with you and keep calm whenever there’s a disagreement. Unless it’s something really serious, he’ll most likely forgive you rather easily if you’re honest when you apologize.

If it’s something more… personal, something that deeply hurt him, it’ll take time. If you’re sincere about regretting what you said and what happened, he’ll end up forgiving you, but it mostly depends on you.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Your lover is so grateful for you, and he makes sure to show it. He appreciates how you wait for him to come back to you, how you trust him to do so, and how you help him during his weakest moments.

Kazuha is well aware of what you do for him, and he tries to do the same for you. After a long journey, you’re always there for him, you help him relax and listen to him as he talks about his trip. You look at him like he’s your whole world, and you’re his.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

In the beginning, there are things Kazuha prefers to keep for himself. Not because he doesn’t trust you, he loves you dearly and trusts you with his life, but he needs time to organize his thoughts and feelings before he opens up.

Slowly but surely, he’ll tell you everything about himself, hoping that you’ll do the same. He’ll talk about his childhood, his family, his friend, his most difficult experiences… He wants you to know him, especially if he thinks about proposing to you.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Kazuha didn’t change much on the outside, but inside, you were able to make his worst memories go away. Thanks to you, he finds it easier to remember his friend with a bittersweet smile, wondering if he would be happy to know that Kazuha found someone as wonderful as you.

You help him during his worst moments, making him feel safe and warm. He has someone’s shoulder to cry on when he can’t continue bottling his feelings. You helped him realize that he doesn’t have to hold in the tears all the time, and he’s forever grateful to you.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Jealousy and Kazuha in the same sentence is a strange occurrence. Your lover trusts you a lot, and knows that you wouldn’t betray him in any way. Besides, he knows how to control his temper and doesn’t let any intrusive thoughts blind him.

But, if someone is going too far and touching you without your consent, even though you’re clearly uncomfortable and trying to get away, he won’t hesitate to step in. He won’t resort to violence, unless it’s self-defense, he’d rather walk away with you. You’ll notice your lover is a bit more touchy than usual, and if you ask him, he’ll admit that he felt a little jealous. The pink on his cheeks is adorable.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He’s definitely a good kisser, he takes his time and makes sure that you enjoy it as much as he does! Kazuha usually gives you a small sign when he wants to kiss you, especially in public, be it a simple glance or playing with your fingers until you realize what he wants to do.

The first kiss you shared was nothing short from one from a fairy tale or a poem. His lips gently touched yours, moving slowly as his hand caressed your cheek. It wasn’t a long kiss, even if he yearned to claim your lips again and again… he feared that, if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from stealing kiss after kiss.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It would depend on where you are and your own preferences. Still, he would take you out on a date, visiting places he knows you enjoy, then asking you to stop for a minute before you go back home.

Kazuha would gently hold your hand in his, slowly intertwining your fingers. His touch is loose enough for you to step back if you wanted to, but of course you didn’t. He’ll tell you about his feelings, about how his heart beats faster when you’re around, and about how you’re in his mind whenever he sees something beautiful… He can wait for your answer, just as you wait for him to come back every time.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He wants to spend the rest of his life with you, married or not. Kazuha will bring up the topic with you first to know your preferences before he does anything. If you want to get married, he won’t doubt.

He’ll propose to you with the sweetest poem you’ve ever heard, every word full of love and wonder. He’d like a nice wedding, inviting your family and close friends. It may get a little rowdy with Beidou and her crew, but it’ll be a really fun and wonderful event!

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Oh, Kazuha uses the loveliest nicknames for you. Dove, my love, beloved, dear, darling, maple leave, my heart, flower, my breeze… There are so many, and even more, but he can’t help him when every nickname comes from his heart.

He’ll watch your reaction to every single one. The ones that make you react the most will be kept for private, or moments when he wants to tease you a little bit, while the other can be used in public as long as you’re alright with it.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Anyone who has known him for at least a day can see how smitten this man is with you. He’s surprisingly obvious, as some had expected him to not change much after falling in love. The samurai is pretty good at keeping a kind smile on his face and look calm all the time… but he’s not exactly subtle when he stares at you from afar.

Kazuha writes about you. There are so many poems, haikus and even letters about his feelings for you in his room. Each of them are full of love, making clear just how wonderful you are and how much he wishes to be by your side. Some of them express how he dreams of holding your hand as you watch the sunset together. Maybe, he’ll be able to show them to you one day.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Bold of you to think Kazuha wouldn’t tell anyone who’s willing to listen about how wonderful you are. There are times when Beidou even tries to avoid the ronin because she’s too tired to listen to him talk for hours about you.

He isn’t shy at all, he’s happy to be your boyfriend and won’t ever reject a kiss from you, no matter who’s in front of him. His cheeks will turn a pretty pink, his smile even softer as he watches you go after leaving a peck on his lips. Then, he’ll continue talking like nothing happened, ignoring any looks from others.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s a really good cook. Kazuha can make delicious dishes without many ingredients, and even the simplest recipes taste like a delicacy. If you’re traveling with him, you’ll stare as he prepares everything for your meal. For some reason, it’s hypnotizing.

And he loves to cook for you! If you’re tired or simply don’t want to cook, leave it to him. There’s nothing better than arriving home to see your boyfriend in the kitchen with a cute apron on, a gentle smile on his lips as he tells you to sit at the table while he finishes with the food. It’s your favorite dish, and it tastes better than usual, all thanks to your lover.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

There’s no doubt that Kazuha is a romantic man, he enjoys the soft touches, kissing your hand, whispering promises of love in your ear… He’d do many things to make you happy, just say the word, and the ronin will give his all.

He likes to be creative with the haikus he writes for you, searching for the most beautiful metaphors to try and describe your beauty, although he knows that no words can do so. He does enjoy romantic clichés though, if it makes you smile or blush, it’s good.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Your lover supports you a lot! He believes in you, don’t even doubt it. Kazuha knows you’ll achieve your goals, and even if you don’t, he’s there for you. Sometimes, it’s not the right time, but don’t let failure blind you.

He’ll be there to help you when you need it, and he’ll tell you how brave and wonderful you are. Try your best, and even if it’s not enough, it will some day if you keep trying. He’ll stay with you in every step of the way, and he’ll offer you a hand if you ever fall.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

While he enjoys to try different things, he’s also okay with a routine. Kazuha would like to take a few trips with you from time to time, maybe take you to a place he found in one of his travels and thought you’d like it too.

Still, a routine is comforting. After wandering, having to keep his guard up to avoid any nasty surprises, a routine is a nice break, especially if it’s with you. It’s domestic, sweet and makes his chest feel warm.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Sometimes you wonder if Kazuha knows you better than yourself. He learned about your quirks and how to read your mood without you saying a word, he knows what to do when you’re upset, how to push your buttons and how to make you melt against him with a simple kiss.

If you’re upset, he can’t help but worry. If you’re crying, his chest hurts, and he wants nothing more than hold you in his arms and comfort you. If you smile, no matter how bad his day was, it’ll feel like the rainy clouds disappeared to let the sun shine. So, yes, he’s pretty empathetic when it comes to you.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Your relationship is one of the most important things in his life, along with his freedom to wander and the close friends he found. It’s difficult to explain how important it is for him, but you have a permanent place in his heart.

Every morning, he wakes up wishing to see your sleeping face beside him, or find you close with a smile. When he travels, you rarely leave his thoughts, and he’s excited to go back home, to go back to you, and tell you about everything.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Kazuha lets you do whatever you want with his hair. Feel free to try any hairstyles on him, he won’t complain if he ends up with a pair of pigtails. He loves when you run your hands through his hair, and he might fall asleep after a while.

When he’s feeling down, he’ll plop down on your lap. His hair is down, snowy locks falling on his face, waiting for your warm, loving hand. It’s quiet, and with every caress from you he can feel his worries disappear.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

As long as you’re okay with it, Kazuha is pretty affectionate! He isn’t exactly handsy, but he just loves to hold your hand when you’re walking side by side. Feel free to put your hands on his arm even, he finds it cute.

But yes, he loves to kiss and cuddle with you. Every touch from you makes his heart jump and he has the sweetest smile on his face. He’s addicted to your lips, and doesn’t even try to hide it when he chases after them whenever you kiss him. He can write so many poems about how your touch feels like home, how your body fits so perfectly against his… He loves you so much, and he wants to show you in all the ways he can.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He writes. Haikus, poems, letters, anything. If he finds something beautiful, be it a flower or even a place, he’ll try to compare it to your beauty. A pretty red flower for the color of your cheeks, a warm drink for the warmth in his chest when he’s with you.

He’ll send you those letters, even if they’re a bit messy. Those are his thoughts, that way you’ll be aware that he’s still thinking about you, even if you’re far away from the other. Some nights, Kazuha looks up at the night sky, wondering if you’re also looking at the moon and thinking of him.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’s willing to fight for you, to defend you, and give his all for you to stay by his side. If there’s something threatening your relationship, Kazuha will try to find a way to deal with it. He doesn’t have many limits when it comes to this.

If you want to stay by his side, he won’t hesitate to fight for you. He won’t lose you, not unless you wish to leave him. He won’t let anyone or anything take someone dear to him, not again, he promises to protect you with his life.

glazemeda 2022

#genshin x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha fluff #kazuha x you #200 followers fluff event

[elvensorceress]

Fuck it Friday 

tagged by @alyxmastershipper @rewritetheending @ajunerose @ebdaydreamer @eddiesbleps @sibylsleaves @jobairdxx @achillesbuck @messyhairdiaz @comaboybuck @hippolotamus

tagging @eddiescowboy  @spaceprincessem @evanbuckleysarms @buddiefication @rose-buddie @wh0re-behavi0r @favouritealias @moonlightcrossesonyourbody @hollyandvice  @megsvstheworld @thespermdonorstorylineisstupid @folk-fae @babytrapperdiaz @shortsighted-owl @spotsandsocks @cowboy-buddie @chaosandwolves 

well. I wish I had some fun porns to show off. but I really just have this. so. 🫣

from the Broke My Own Heart verse with @alyxmastershipper my partner in angsty smutty crimes

The churning in Eddie’s stomach is worse and makes him sick. But he takes in air — that smells like wild sweet home and homemade love — and he can be stone. Dead and cold, heartless and hollow. “I saw Shannon today.” It sounds rough but too soft for what it is, what it means. 

“What do you mean?” Buck asks quietly as he goes still, caught in amber that will preserve but also kill him. “What does that mean?” 

“I had to call her so the school could talk to her. The one I’m trying to get Chris admission to. So, I saw her. Talked to her. She wants to try again. She wants— We’re married. She’s Christopher’s mom. She wants—” 

There’s still music somewhere. Left with a night where they could have filled the empty glasses and shared food and wine and kisses, and danced to the sultry music until they tangled together, naked and covered in each other and hazy romantic candlelight. 

The music is there somewhere, but everything goes white noise silent. There’s no more air to breathe, no more warmth to feel. His hands, his arms, his heart are freezing and flooding with sharp numbness until there’s nothing left for him to feel and nothing left for him to touch. 

It’s better this way. It will be. Buck deserves better. Buck deserves to never be used and hurt. 

“What do you want?” Buck’s voice is low, quiet but weighted iron. 

A world where Eddie doesn’t hurt people he loves? A world where that question has any relevance? “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” Buck steps toward him, fire and insistence, and Eddie just wants to burn to ashes. He would let Buck turn him to ash and take everything left. He has a feeling it belongs with him anyway. 

Eddie shakes his head. “I can’t not do this for Christopher. He misses her.” 

“Then let him have her. Put together a joint custody arrangement. Tell her she can have him on certain nights and weekends and whatever. Why does she have to have you?”

Because— they’re married? Because she wants him? Does she want him? She would have to? Or she would have to say that she does because then he’ll let her see Chris. If they’re a family, then she can have them both? Does she even want them both? He doesn’t actually know. 

Because he didn’t think he had any other options?  

Buck steps away before he can answer. “Never mind. I get it. All of it.” He goes around the room and blows out the candles, turns off the music, then takes the bouquet of flowers and shoves it into Eddie’s chest. “Did you know bluebonnets are for bravery, courage, and sacrificial loyalty? I looked it up. They symbolize sacrifice.” 

Yeah. Somewhere in his head, Eddie knew that. He doesn’t know anything anymore though. But he holds onto the bouquet and knows when to exit if nothing else. The lights are too harsh now and the silence is too loud. He’s starving but the meal isn’t for him. 

“Eddie.” 

He stops but doesn’t turn around. He waits for whatever shot Buck wants to make, whatever way he wants to strike back and make himself feel better about this. Eddie can take it. Whatever he has to bear. 

“Did you even fight for me? Or did you just agree?” 

He didn’t know Buck was something he could fight to have. Buck isn’t something he can fight for. Buck doesn’t deserve this. Eddie doesn’t deserve him. Eddie doesn’t deserve anyone. 

#buddie wip #fuck it friday #fic: broke my own heart #I'm sorry did I just spill angst everywhere? my bad?? #jenwyn wip

[beauspot]

i feel like we talk about the way that sydney affects carmy and how she’s helped him but we should also talk about his affect on her. (i swear this is the last thIng imma say about them for now 😭) sydney over qualified for the job she’s doing at the bear, same as carmy, they both have these big plans for the restaurant but the difference is carmy is thinking long term where as syd is in this constant state of “we gotta go go go right now. now or never.” as she talked about before it’s part of the reason her business fell through, she got too big too fast. that being said she is also over prepared for most situations, for example showing up a a week into her new job with a 30 page thesis on making the beef successful. this is probably partly because of her personality since she(and honestly this applies to most chefs) is type A, but i think it also has to do with the fact she is a black woman in a field dominated by white men.

Now if you’ve ever worked food service you know that shit is no joke, people want their food and they want it cooked perfectly and they want it right away, they don’t care how busy you are, how stressed you are, it doesn’t matter and this in turn affects the way kitchens are run. people feel like they’re waiting too long they’ll leave affecting profits meaning people get paid less or fired. the more prestigious a restaurant the more is at stake because reputation is half the reason people go to expensive places. now the show is dramatized for sure but this toxic kitchen culture is very real and we saw how it affected carmy. syd has had to go through similar shit(while she wasn’t working under that DEMON that carmy was she still worked with a grade a asshole chef) while also dealing with racism and misogyny and undoubtedly sexual harassment. people underestimate and at the same time expect perfection out of you when you’re a black woman. people hesitate to give us jobs and then act the most harsh to us when we mess up. so syd feeling the need to do everything herself and taking extra measures and not being able to take criticism stem from a place of people probably having hid their hate in “criticism” so she takes it personally even if it isn’t.

anyways you might be wondering why i think this ties into syd and carmy’s relationship. basically it’s the way he treats her. he doesn’t baby her but carmy speaks to her so softly. when she has these huge ideas he doesn’t try to destroy them and make her feel bad for wanting more, he just kindly explains that they’re not at that place or he needs to think or she needs to be patient and he always makes sure that he reassures her it has nothing to do with how talented she is. having people constantly screaming at you or trying to make you feel small can do irreparable damage to someone’s psyche and that’s the last thing he wants to do, because not only does he respect syd, he cares about her, whether he knows it or not. he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings and as soon as he does he regrets it and apologizes. he doesn’t do that with ANYONE else in the show. the only other people he apologizes to are his sister and marcus and to be quite honest he does worse stuff to them than he does to syd. she messed up the system after he told her to check it twice and then he yelled at her(which wasn’t ok he already established that) but he still felt like she was the one he’d done the most wrong. i mean richie got STABBED and carmy told him he deserved it and he NEVER apologized. obviously there’s a reason WHY.

I’ve said this before but even in the midst of losing his shit(because of again a mistake that sydney made!!!) he stops to ask if she’s good, repeatedly. as she’s quitting he begins to PANIC. we see at the end of the season that sydney has ditched the rose colored glasses she wore specifically for carmy and we’re going to see where that puts their relationship next season as i don’t think this issue is fully resolved even though they’ve agreed to open a new place together.

wait edit: i’m not sure he ever does apologize to sugar. i think i just made that up in my head. he says sorry for not asking how she’s feeling which…i don’t know if that’s an apology really

second edit: he doesn’t just vocally reassure her he’ll stare at her unflinchingly until she confirms she’s alright and that THEY’RE ok

wait THIRD edit: someone on here pointed out that carmy is like his brother in a way because he looks up to him, that’s his hero and so he pushes people away the same way mikey did and that’s ANOTHER REASON syd is good for him. she pushes and she won’t let him do that shit, not with her

#the bear #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #carmy x syd #carmy and sydney #sydney x carmy #syd x carmy #richie jerimovich #the bear marcus #chefs kiss #seriously though how is carmy and syd giving mentor and mentee #but marcus and syd isn’t??? #slow burn #why does natalie live in a completely different world than the rest of the characters. it’s bizarre