#you can be cool and capable and still suffer baby!!!

[tubbytarchia]

Oh, I'll bow my head, I'll clip my wings I was never gonna make it anyway (x)

#haha whats this doing here I dont remember drawing this #jimmy solidarity #jimmy solidarity fanart #trafficblr #thank you to the person who introduced me to this song among others in the Jimmy brainrot #you know who you are #it was Bree #tubby art #Im not going to expand on ideas here lol but fuck yeah Jimmy clipped wing symbolism #sorry to anyone whos annoyed by the constant canary theme etc but dude its way too good symbolism and imagery sorry #I dont make the rules #this is why his character is so cool and compelling and makes me wanna rip my hair out #Jimmy is a very good and capable man. I hope the angst art etc doesnt make people think that I think otherwise #you can be cool and capable and still suffer baby!!!

[trailingoff]

Aziraphale’s religious trauma

I’m sure others have discussed this in a lot of depth, but I can’t help throwing my hat in the ring. Aziraphale has major religious trauma after spending his entire very long existence as a member of a cult. If you’ve never experienced what it’s like to be indoctrinated into a religion, then it might be very hard to understand why he behaves the way he does, so I’ll try to lay it out for you.

Anyone who was raised from early childhood to believe that an all-powerful being is watching them as though they’re in a panopticon (a jail where prisoners are watched by authorities at random moments) and will severely punish them and/or their loved ones if anyone steps out of line (or just on a whim or based on a bet with Satan) either has experienced religious trauma or has somehow avoided it, perhaps through repression or retreating into themselves and managing to ignore what the adults were telling them. Another way to avoid the trauma is to continue to believe that the cult is ‘good’ and that those outside it are ‘bad’ and should seek redemption, forgiveness and salvation.

Not only does Aziraphale have this trauma, but it’s also based on reality in the GO universe. I was able to live with mine by realising that there is no empirical evidence for religious beliefs, by studying philosophy, by having therapy, and by reflecting on it for years. The trauma can still be triggered in me, leading to panic that God might be watching and judging me, and that an afterlife might exist, but luckily I’m now able to move through the panic relatively quickly. Aziraphale can’t do any of this because the beliefs of his cult are all too real. There really is a massively powerful (hopefully not all-powerful, but he believes she is) being who watches and judges him and everyone else at random moments. She has either directly ordered her angels to slaughter babies and children or has stood by and watched them do it. She has severely punished someone Aziraphale cares about, Crowley, who from that moment has been in a situation where he continues to be tortured by his fellow demons with no intervention from God and who simultaneously risks being destroyed by demons, by angels, by humans wielding sacred weapons (e.g. holy water) or by his own hand.

And so Aziraphale suffers from both religious trauma and the trauma of living under a real authoritarian dictatorship. This dictatorship is seemingly unbeatable and eternal, and it possesses weapons more powerful than the biggest nuclear weapons, more powerful than the sun, really more powerful than anything we humans can imagine.

Thousands of years ago, Crowley was kicked out in an extremely painful way, and he suffers his own trauma from that. He clearly doesn’t want Aziraphale to go through all of that, yet he wants Aziraphale to join him on ‘their own side’. At the end of the previous season, I thought Aziraphale was all in. I was happy to leave it at that ... even though it isn’t a realistic depiction of someone dealing with the particular types of trauma that Aziraphale has experienced and continues to experience.

Aziraphale and Crowley are still in constant grave danger, and they’re still living in God’s panopticon. That can’t just be hand-waved away. As we’ve seen this season, at any moment their fragile peace can be disrupted by a situation that puts them in danger of being harmed to the extent of being wiped from existence. They can’t actually just go to Alpha Centauri and it will all be cool. (And what would they do there for eternity anyway ...?) But yeah there is no way to escape from God, nowhere in the universe that God isn’t capable of supervising -- that’s real, not something Aziraphale merely has faith in, as humans understand belief in God. Aziraphale isn’t the equivalent of a human priest or a theologian or a cult member: he is a supernatural being created by a much more powerful supernatural being.

Perhaps there are only two ways for Aziraphale to deal with his trauma: 1) He realises that God and the Heavenly Host can be defeated. 2) He realises that they can be permanently altered in a positive way. 

At the end of season two, Aziraphale seems to believe he is being given the opportunity to bring about option 2. We don’t know if he has a plan or a vision for this, but for the first time he thinks he has a chance. Perhaps best of all, he has the opportunity to protect Crowley -- permanently! Imagine how anxious Aziraphale must have been, for thousands of years, that Crowley would be destroyed. It could have happened at any time, near or far from Aziraphale. Crowley faces dangers on all sides and also does foolish (from Aziraphale’s perspective) things like good deeds under the influence of laudanum and a heist so he can handle holy water. Crowley breaks and bends rules in ways that could kill him: Aziraphale isn’t catastrophising. This isn’t the same as a religious loved one telling you that you’re going to hell for sinning. Crowley has already been tortured in hell, and he could be tortured there forever, or he could be turned into an oily black puddle, or removed from the book of life etc etc. 

What Aziraphale doesn’t understand yet is that Crowley can’t be an angel again and still be the Crowley that Aziraphale loves. He also doesn’t see Crowley as an equal. If they’re going to take on heaven and bring down God’s dictatorship, they are going to have to do it as Aziraphale and Crowley, working in partnership, wielding the immense power of their love.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #aziraphale #crowley #religious trauma

[saintsenara]

asenora i will listen to anything you have to say about these characters ever. please tell us what the tea is with dron

as i rummage through the backlog of messages in my inbox the thing that i have discovered is that you girlies [gender neutral] are absolutely clamouring for citizenship of dron nation.

[thank you to @spectral-kitty, @thesilverstarling, and two mystery anons!]

to which i say, the borders are open, baby. you just have to read the following manifesto:

why fandom needs to stop sleeping on dron

something i am continually banging on about, as regular readers know, is the harry potter series' fondness for assigning [male] characters to narrative mirror pairings.

exploring these pairings is interesting in and of itself without a romantic dimension being involved - i could talk for hours about the mirrored approach to guilt and grief in snape and sirius' characterisation - but it's also true that several of the most interesting ships which can be drawn [however non-canonically] from the text are between the two halves of each mirror pairing.

tomarrymort is the obvious one, snack [or starprince or snirius or whatever we're calling it] is starting to get the attention it deserves, but people are still sleeping on draco malfoy/ron weasley [and also, may i say, on lucius malfoy/arthur weasley and narcissa malfoy/molly weasley], largely - i fear - due to the sheer popularity of drarry and dramione.

i'll be honest that i really don't like dramione, and i'm generally ambivalent towards drarry, but i do love dron. and the narrative mirror aspect is entirely the reason why.

ron and draco begin the series as mirror archetypes within the genre conventions of a children's boarding school romp. ron is the loyal, humble sidekick of the everyman protagonist, draco is the everyman protagonist's posh, stuck-up rival. both are insiders to the world of the story - whereas harry, the reader surrogate, is not - who introduce harry to the positive and negative aspects of the wizarding world respectively.

as a result, ron and draco are mirrors in terms of personality, and are much more similar to each other than either is to harry or hermione. this doesn't, of course, preclude ronarry [a ship i adore] or romione [which i've defended here] or drarry or dramione [if ya nasty], but it introduces a specific - and very interesting - tension into the pairing which is absent from these other ships.

both ron and draco have shared positive traits - they're both loyal [and their loyalty is very practical and pragmatic - ron is not hagrid, whose faith in e.g. dumbledore is totally unwavering; draco is not bellatrix, whose faith in voldemort is the same], they're both highly observant, they're both quick-witted, they're both capable of doing the right thing - if not always immediately [which is, in fact, more admirable than being preternaturally willing to suffer and sacrifice], and so on.

they also have shared negative traits. they're both attention-seeking [ron fucking loves nearly being knifed by sirius and you just know draco was seething], self-aggrandising, insecure, sulky, and predisposed to jealousy.

and this is a gift for authors, because it means that dron butt heads in a relationship in ways which allow for real character growth... or otherwise.

one issue that i have with drarry is that it often feels like the change either one goes through within a fic is kind of out of character. for example, you have a harry who feels insecure and haunted by his ill-treatment of draco [this is a man whose response to committing attempted murder is to be raging that it reduces the time he has free to hit on ginny], or a harry who is chasing after a cool and sophisticated draco who eventually learns to open up [whereas if there's two things draco isn't, it's someone who keeps his thoughts to himself and someone who isn't a distinctly unsophisticated flop].

dron, however, react to conflict in the same way - which means that the two of them finding themselves in conflict with each other absolutely slaps. they also have similar levels of emotional intelligence, and are likely - if they're inclined to - to be able to communicate with each other and work through issues surprisingly effectively. they can be a mess, or they can be a happy-ever-after, and i like that in a ship.

but, while ron and draco are mirror archetypes, they are specifically children's literature mirror archetypes. ron's role as harry's guide to the world diminishes in the later books, as the series' horizons move beyond hogwarts to think about wizarding society and voldemort's impact upon it more widely [he is replaced by characters such as dumbledore]; while harry becomes considerably less bothered by the pettiness of draco's rivalry with him [concerned as it is with things like being good at quidditch and getting away with misbehaviour at school] as the enemies he's focused on shift to being the resurrected voldemort and his death eaters.

which is to say that dron makes considerably more sense within a hogwarts setting than drarry.

as i've said elsewhere, an issue i have with drarry is that it's frequently written in a way which suggests that harry and draco have a mutual obsession with each other - while the actual evidence of canon is that, while draco is [as his archetype demands] preoccupied with what harry's doing, harry rarely gives the impression of caring what his rival is up to unless directly compelled to by draco's own attention-seeking.

ron, in contrast, spends a lot of time noticing things about draco unprompted - he can, for instance, recall overhearing him boasting offhand about what broom he owns in philosopher's stone - and retaining this information in order to deploy it at the opportune time to get a rise out of him. he delights constantly in his misfortune [him being hyped for days because draco's annoyed harry gets a firebolt is beautiful]. he's ready to throw hands with him at any given opportunity, often giving those of us who thrive on cheap innuendo plenty of material in the process [draco finds himself, for example 'on all fours, banging the ground with his fist' after having ron's wand pointed in his face... same, girl.] and he tends to consider draco much more integral to the various shenanigans which take place in the castle than harry does [ron is the main proponent of the 'draco malfoy is the heir of slytherin' theory in chamber of secrets - and he is shook when draco reveals that he's wrong].

and draco does the same. he comes into the trio's compartment on the train in goblet of fire and immediately starts telling ron how unfashionable his dress robes are. he obsesses over ron's position as gryffindor keeper for months - and, of course, makes up a song about it, which isn't exactly helping him pull off 'i don't think about you at all', is it? - and ron is profoundly affected by the taunts in way that harry, who doesn't really care what draco thinks of him, isn't. and he constantly goes out of his way to provoke ron into trying to punch him [him shoulder-barging ron in half-blood prince just after harry's essentially outed him as a death eater in madam malkins... exquisite pettiness].

all of which is to say, their interactions feel very teenage and petty and silly all the way through to the end of half-blood prince in a way that draco's interactions with harry and hermione don't, and - therefore - i sincerely think that dron can be made to work much more plausibly as a pairing in fics set while the characters are at school.

my final point in favour of dron is that they mirror each other in their approach to their other relationships, and the tension this causes is really interesting to explore.

both ron and draco have mirrored attitudes towards their place within their own families - something neither harry nor hermione can have with draco for obvious reasons. ron is one of many siblings and feels overlooked in the crowd; draco is an only child and feels overburdened by the visibility, especially once his father is sent to azkaban. they both conform to behaviours expected of them by family [they are both in the same hogwarts house as generations of their family, they share their families' political views etc.]. they are of the same social class and their families both have a reasonably similar level of political influence [despite what we're told about his insignificance, arthur weasley is known to everyone in the ministry and he's able to throw his weight around to influence policy even before the promotion he receives in half-blood prince], but their material circumstances are divergent. they both heavily resemble their fathers - to the extent that they are immediately recognisable as each man's son - and spend their schooldays defending family honour by playing out lucius and arthur's own petty feud [lucius and arthur - and, indeed, narcissa and molly - are also narrative mirrors, and we deserve many more enemies-to-lovers fics featuring them]. and the course their lives take during the war is dictated as much by their role within their families as it is by their relationship with harry - the scrambling post-dumbledore order operating out of the burrow is a mirror image of the ascendant voldemort operating out of malfoy manor.

they are also obviously defined by their mirrored relationship with harry - most interestingly by a major similarity in their attitude towards him: that both struggle with how jealous they are of harry.

this leads to lots of excellent tension which just isn't possible in drarry or dramione. how do both sets of parents react to the news their sons are in love? how do ron and draco's relationships with harry change as they find each other? how does draco cope with the hustle and bustle of life at the burrow? how does ron deal with having to have dinner at the manor [particularly interesting because the world in which draco lives is one that's familiar to him - he's not going to be shocked by any of the weird stuff in that house, he knows how it all works, so he can ruin christmas by deciding to have his dad arrest lucius for fun instead]?

it's messy, and fun, and it sustains me.

and some recs for the lads?

collateral damage by @danpuff-ao3, which starts out with both of the lads working out their... issues with harry and ends with declarations of going to lunch with each other's mothers.

dance the night away (aka it's true love, you bastards) by evandar, which has as its premise ron and draco ending up, largely by accident, going to the yule ball together.

this great stage of fools by @nanneramma, which correctly demonstrates how ron is charming enough that him being supremely annoying is actually loveable.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #dron #draco malfoy #ron weasley #asenora fic recs

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess || Part 4

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here starting with this series since it was the most popular!

Summary: You struggle to recall your favorite songs. Daryl pushes you away.

18+ MDNI || Warnings: profanity, descriptions of child loss / child walker (zombie)

        Nothing had changed since the CDC. Well, except for your perception of life and how fragile it is. Being there, thirty seconds from evaporating, it was an eye opener to say the least. Then you were on the road again. 

        Shane's transgression was never addressed, at least not openly. He did, however, stay far away from you and Rick had barely spoken to him, so you guessed something happened there. By the time you all ended up on the Greene farm, Daryl had let up on you too, not worrying so much about you with Sophia's search on his hands. 

        You tried to help as much as you could, but the other women needed help around the camp too, so most days you were asked to stay behind. 

        Daryl and Rick seemed to be working well  together. Overall things were okay. You slept in the RV where Amy used to sleep, since you no longer had a tent. Plus, Shane couldn't get in there without someone noticing, so it was a win for you despite the guilt you felt taking Amy's place.

        Then came the day Shane lost his cool and opened up a barn full of walkers. You guys had no trouble taking them out, at least not until Sophia came stumbling out of the dark, snapping her jaw and growling. Her thin little frame contorting in the sunlight just shattered your heart.

        Of course Shane couldn't put her down. Rick had to be the one to step up and do the hard part. Shane was always claiming to be the one that could make the hard decisions, but in the end, when the task was actually hard to take on, it always had to be Rick. 

        Carol was a mess at first, but there was a calmness about her. She held her head high and kept her shit together, something you weren't sure you could have done yourself. You had lost a baby, years ago, but you had never met that baby. You never had the chance to hold that baby and shower it with love, to shape it and mold it into a person. Carol did, and she suffered such a loss yet she still remained soft and kind, something you envied.

        Just with the drama your life had become since the outbreak, you could feel yourself closing up, becoming harder, meaner, rougher. When your chores were finished you'd always disappear into the tree line, not far enough that you couldn't see the farm, but far enough that nobody could see you. It was peaceful there, and nobody tried to talk to you, which was exactly what you needed.

        Daryl and you had barely spoken, especially since Sophia. You tried to talk to him once but he just blew you off, telling you he didn't have time for whatever drama you had for him. You didn't have any drama, you just wanted to check on him, but you understood. He had gone out of his way for you so much and he owed you nothing, not even kindness.

        "What the hell are you doin' out here?" Lori shocked you as she approached you from behind. You were in the woods again, just sitting against a tree.

        "Sitting against a tree." You deadpanned. 

        "I can see that. We've been lookin' for you."

        You raised an eyebrow and looked up at her.

        "Look, I know you hate me. I get it. But things are hard right now and we can't afford more to worry about. So, please, just stop whatever this is." She begged.

        "I don't hate you." You sighed. "I hate Shane, and I hate that either of you were capable of hurting me that way."

        Her mouth opened and closed a few times, words dangling on a string, just out of her reach. 

        "I get it, you know? It sucks being alone out here." You nodded. What a funny little joke, now you were the one who was alone.

        "You're not alone. And I'm sorry about what I did but--"

        "I'll be back in a little while." You cut her off.

        "You need to come back now. Before Rick or Shane comes lookin' for you."

        "Why would either of them waste their time doing that? I'm fine, I'm safe, and I'm not far. Just tell them that." 

        "I'm not gonna tell 'em that. You are, right now, because we're goin' back."

        "Do you like music, Lori?" You asked suddenly, completely disregarding her.

        "What?" She shook her head.

        "I do. I love music. It was the only thing that soothed my soul, you know? I couldn't even tell you if I had a favorite song or musician because I loved so many songs from so many genres. Nothing amazed me more than the ability of a sing to make you feel understood. I can't listen to music, though, not anymore. So every day, I come out here, and I try to remember the words to at least five songs I used to listen to. You interrupted me on song number three."

        She just stood there, arms crossed. She shifted her weight impatiently before she sighed. "What song?"

        "I can't remember the name of it." You admitted. "Or all the words. Been racking my brain for like twenty minutes now."

        "What can you remember? Maybe I can help." She offered, sitting against the opposite side of the tree.

        "It was something like uh... My tea's gone cold, I'm wonderin' why I got out of bed at all. The mornin' rain clouds up my window.."

        "And I can't see at all." She began to sing with you, so you both continued in unison.

        "And even if I could it'd all be gray, but your picture on my wall. It reminds me that it's not so bad, not so bad."

        "So you know it? What was the name?" You asked her.

        "Thank You. Her name is Dido." She smiled, rubbing her hands together. "My friend used to play it on repeat."

        "Oh." You nodded. "You know, I'd kill to find a damn iPod or something."

        "Me too." She chuckled. "It would be nice to just tune everything out now and then. You know, Hershel's girl, Beth, she likes to sing."

        "Oh yeah?" You nodded. "Like church songs or something?"

        "Sometimes. She liked those songs that are sad but happy. You know?"

        "Yeah." You nodded. "Me too."

----

        You sat next to Carl that night by the fire, eating the concoction of boiled meat and vegetables. Carl had been telling you about a show he used to watch called Ben 10. You were giving halfhearted responses like "Oh yeah?... A watch could  do all that?.. Wow, dude... No, I would have never expected that.."

        Lori eventually  pulled him away to get ready for bed. Daryl finished his food before anyone else as per usual, and when you finished you decided to track him down. You decided he'd avoided you for long enough, and whether he liked it or not, he was your friend.

        "Thought I'd find you here." You said, squatting down in front of his opened tent.

        "Didn't take  much to figure that out." He said, laying on his back. He was still bandaged up from his fall in the ravine and Andrea's missed shot, but he was fine mostly. Hershel just insisted he kept it bandaged until it healed to prevent infection since he used the last of the antibiotics.

        "Funny." You rolled your eyes. "You gonna ignore me forever?"

        "Ain't ignorin' ya."

        "Kinda seems like it."

        "Why, cause I ain't watchin' over ya like a damn bodyguard?" He sat up now. "I ain't your fuckin' boyfriend."

        "Never said you were."

        "Well then quit actin' like it."

        "I know this is probably foreign territory for you, but I'm not acting like anything. I'm treating you like a friend. Clearly I misread the situation." You glared, standing up to your feet, but before you walked away; "Oh, and next time I'm in trouble, don't bother. I'll figure it out on your own. I don't need a bodyguard. I only needed a friend."

        As you walked away he threw himself back on his pillow, letting out a frustrated sigh. Why did he always do that? Lash out at people who were trying to be kind? He knew why, it was because he didn't need their pity. He tried to find Sophia and failed. He failed Carol, but he hadn't failed you, so he didn't owe you shit. 

        You shook with anger as you stormed off into the dark, across the open field and into the trees. On a normal day you'd pop your earbuds in and blast whatever song fit the mood as you strolled around the neighborhood, but you'd have to settle for the sound of your own voice in the dark this time.

        When you found a suitable tree to rest on, you sat against it, leaning your head back on the trunk and closing your eyes. 

        "Pardon me while I burst into flames         I've had enough of the world and its people's mindless games         So pardon me while I burn and rise above the flame         Pardon me, pardon me, I'll never be the same"

        "Shouldn't be out here singin' in the dark." Daryl spoke up. You jumped and looked up at him, rolling your eyes.

        "Jesus, can I never have a moment of peace?"

        "Could say the same for you. I was gettin' ready to go to sleep when you interrupted me in my own damn tent."

        "The difference is, I came to you as a friend, and you're here to give me some stupid lecture about not getting hurt." You shot back.

        "Is that why I'm here?" 

        "Yes, and you can save it for someone who needs it. I don't need a bodyguard, remember?"

        "Ain't here for that."

        "Then what?"

        "Just.. To uh, ya know. 'M sorry 'bout that back there."

        "Sorry? For what? You made yourself clear. It's cool. I get it." You looked back away from him, fixating on a tree.

        "I was just mad, ya know. All that time, still lookin' for her, thinkin' she was alive and I'd get her back to her momma. She was in that barn the whole time." He admitted. You sighed.

        "Yeah." You whispered. "She didn't deserve that."

        "Nah." He shook his head. "Just hate lettin' her momma down. Followin' all tem leads, gettin' her hopes up she was still out there..."

        "It was better than telling her she was dead and trying to get everyone to forget about it."

        "Was it though? I mean, what's worse?"

        "What's worse is feeling hopeless no matter what. At least you gave her some hope. It was more than anyone else could give." You told him. He fell silent, but you could hear him sit against the tree beside you, though you didn't spare him a glance.

        "This where you're always disappearin' to?" He wondered.

        "Uh-huh."

        "To sing?"

        "Trying to remember all the songs I used to like." You admitted.

        "Mm." He nodded. "Can't do that in your tent?"

        "No." You shrugged. "I prefer to be alone when I sing."

        "You and that farm girl would get along."

        "Now you sound like Lori." You rolled your eyes.

        "She talked to ya?"

        "Yeah. Helped me figure out one of the songs, too."

        "Mm. Y'all friends now or somethin'?"

        "Wouldn't say that. Guess you could say we're both victims of the same man."

        "Didn't seem like much of a victim to me." He scoffed.

        "He told her that her husband died and took advantage of her in her fear and grief. Think that's pretty twisted." Youo said.

        "Guess I didn't think 'bout it that way."

        "Why'd you come after me?" You asked, skipping over the small talk.

        "Didn't want ya out here alone. And I kinda wondered what the hell you were doin' in the first place."

        "Did you find your answer?" 

        "Guess so."

        "Well then why are you still here?" 

        "'Cause." He shrugged. 

        "You don't have to watch over me. I can take care of my own shit." You assured him.

        "I know." He said. You felt something warm wrap around your hand. You looked down and it was his own hand, laid over yours, fingers cupping under your palm lazily. 

        "What are you doing?" You asked, looking over your shoulder to him.

        "Dunno. Keep singin'." 

        "Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry, you don't know how lovely you are         I had to find you, tell you I need you, and tell you I set you apart         Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions, no, let's go back to the start         Runnin' in circles, comin' up tails, heads on a science apart"

Masterlist || Taglist

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

If you stop to think about it, the second MHA movie actually highlights how god awful Bakugou is at being a hero.

As pointed out by Mineta,he doesn’t lift a finger to help the denizens of the island. Not only is this a huge red flag for someone that’s going into a job where you have to interact with people, it’s also a spit in the face to Aizawa, who has only stuck his neck out for Bakugou on multiple occasions to cover up his shit behavior. You’d think at the very least he would make some kind of effort to try to make his quirk useful in ways not used for combat. But nope, be the lazy asshole and simply let everyone else do the work for you. That’s how All Might got to be the number one hero, right? And you’d think the other students would grill him harder. But nah, let’s only lightly reprimand and laugh about him being a freeloader.

After realizing Mahoro’s illusion quirk, he goes into a screaming tangent about him being the number one hero, and gets confrontational to both kids. Yes, a high schooler is pounding his chest at two children. Anyone that thinks this man baby is still pro hero material is kidding themselves. I feel bad for Gang Orca, he suffers from coming across as an ineffective teacher where it’s simply Bakugou jumping back to his old ways.

Hagakure, Aoyama and Mineta encounter Mummy, with the two boys holding him and his creations back the best they can and Hagakure placed in the role of bystander. Remember, Aoyama and Mineta’s quirks are not well suited for prolonged fighting, and we see the effects the quirks have on them. (Aoyama gets stomach pains and Mineta bleeds from the head). Then along comes Bakugou, whose quirk we never see have any drawbacks and his equipment is designed so he doesn’t experience said “drawbacks” and is fantastic for offensive capabilities, and he calls the previous group pathetic. And ten seconds jumping into the fray, HE GETS CAPTURED. The joke characters lasted LONGER IN A FIGHT than “The Symbol of Victory” and the guy that’s supposed to be Midoriya’s equal or personal hurdle.

The second half of the movie is Bakugou’s only area of expertise: fighting, big explosions and cool visuals. The fact this happens in the first half of the movie, along with Bakugou always constantly saying he doesn’t need help, especially not Izuku’s, only to be proven how wrong he is and that he doesn’t own up to it afterwards, makes it extremely difficult to see him as a good candidate for OFA or for me to ever take him seriously or care about him throughout the movie.

Lol you pretty much highlight why Katsuki’s a useless character. Those are the only three things he contributes to the series.

#anti katsuki bakugou #anti bakugo katsuki #anti bakugo #anti bakugou

[californiaboytoybilly]

ALRIGHT GIRLIE (gn), I HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR THIS -

💜 🤎 🩶 🪴 🌾 😭 for billy! 🧡💚🌹🌼🌱 for steve!

okokok, i’m ready. let’s do this.

Billy

💜: I know he needs a break and I’ve give him that sometimes, but I really do put him in some truly awful situations sometimes (sorry baby boy).

🤎: Honestly most of my headcanons for him are like… Canon+. At the very least, they’re rooted in my interpretation of his canon. I do love giving him stupid, regal, frilly middle names just because I know he’d hate it though.

🩶: This is a very hard question, mmm. I’m going to have to say the world of Dishonored, but especially the second game. Can’t fight witches and parasitic, bloodsucking swarms of horrible flies with your fists, Bils.

🪴: I don’t know how most people view him, I personally view him as the sun. It keeps us alive, safe. But it can- and does- also kill us or harm us very easily. It flares up and burns red hot. Plus I like the connection of blonde hair/blue eyes like the sun and sky, and the connection to California.

🌾: This is more of a personal headcanon than it is based on anything from the show but I think he’s good at jewelry making. Not like… with big tools in a workshop and with diamonds, but beaded bracelets. Shells from the beach or cool rocks wrapped intricately in a wire cage. Braided leather bracelets. I like the idea that his mom taught him, with twine and shells at the beach. He was always more interested in surfing, but after she left/died, he picked it back up as a comfort.

He knows Neil would call it a fairy hobby or worse, so it’s his best kept secret. He hides that little bag of supplies better than his porn.

😭: No, I do not. I am cursed to remain here like a slightly unstable poltergeist.

Steve

🧡: Steve is so utterly my opposite personality wise that it’s funny but I did also have friends who stopped giving a shit about me in highschool because all they cared about was my house and the things they could earn by being my friends. That and big pathetic brown eyes.

💚: Some of my favourite rep headcanons for Steve are - him becoming hard of hearing after four seasons of concussion after concussion, him being dyslexic, and suffering from chronic pain in general from sports & injury. I’m pretty heavy on the bisexual Steve train, and the Italian Steve headcanon too.

🌹: I feel like when Steve hates you, there is no way you don’t know unless he’s pretending otherwise. He’s petty, bitchy and will absolutely cold shoulder the fuck out of you. Once a mean girl, always a mean girl.

🌼: I think that very much depends on if he was alone. I think, with a group, he’d adapt and be capable of surviving for at a minimum quite a long time. Alone? I don’t know if he’d care about fighting to stay alive if he was entirely alone in the world. He needs other people too much.

🌱: I think he starts out pretty optimistic and over time and tragedy, starts becoming more of a relativist. He is still more optimistic than Robin though, as seen by his steadfast conviction that “Vickie likes boobies” lmao.

#tysm for these!!!! 😭💜 #steve harrington #billy hargrove #ask games

[jackfm]

[ jonathan bailey, cis man, he/him ] — whoa! JASPER ‘JACK’ TOMKINS just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for TEN YEARS, working as a MODEL / OWNER OF GLOW. that can’t be easy, especially at only 35 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit RESTLESS and STUBBORN, but i know them to be GENIAL and DILIGENT. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to BROOKLYN! — (penny, 24, gmt, she/her, none)

fullname:  jasper henry tomkins. nickname(s): jack ( used by everyone ), jas ( usually just close friends / family ), jasp ( uncommonly used ). age:  thirty-five. birthday: july 6th. gender / pronouns:  cis man ,  he / him. orientation:  homosexual / homoromantic. place of birth: oxford, england. current residence: 'vintage' loft apartment, brooklyn. height: 5'9. personality: considerate, pragmatic, evasive, self-critical.

born and raised in oxford jasper's parents were both teachers ( mum of biology & dad of history ) and he the youngest of three, with an older brother & sister. while his siblings followed in the academic path set by their parents, jasper was consumed by a love for ballet from a young age.

he attended the royal ballet school for several years thanks to bursaries, but at eighteen suffered a back injury that had to be treated with surgery and though he mostly recovered ( it still plays up every now and then ) but decided then it wasn't the career path for him.

so he started a degree in music and drama at university and ended up doing some modelling for fellow students in fashion and photography. with their encouragement & his family's, he built a portfolio and approached several agencies. he began part time work straight away ; dribs and drabs here and there, but enough for jack to find a real passion.

dropped out of uni and struggled through a few years of ups and downs ( mainly downs ) in london. his luck started to turn at 23 and this prompted his move to new york two years later. the ups and downs ratio slowly shifted towards more of the former and at 26 he booked his first real editorial shoot in an issue of harper's bazaar.

after this he started earning regularly in editorial and commercial fashion; enough to move from his first dingy brooklyn apartment and start saving. his ownership of glow came completely out of nowhere ; jasper would never dream of being a business owner. until, of course, a club space not far from his home became available. it is maybe the most impulsive thing he's ever done and for sure he has stress dreams about it since taking ownership with a friend ( maybe a wc ?? ) two years ago, but it's done and glow is now his baby. he still models & loves it of course, but channels most of his energy into glow.

it was always going to be an lgbtq+ space and it had been a club before, so that was a pretty easy decision. but it's by no means just a club. downstairs is only open from the evening and is the designated club space ( though there are alcohol-free & relaxed nights even in the club ), but upstairs is a much more relaxed space with a bar and cafe capabilities. jack really wants it to become a community hub of sorts.

headcanons

is probably a relatively mid to high-level model. he's had his fair share of shoots in popular magazines / work with well-known brands so recognisable to an extent, but not considered a supermodel or a household name, really.

supports local small businesses ( esp queer ones ) at any chance, whether in the club or through investment, sponsorship, whatever. he has money ( like, a good amount of it ) & kinda status for the first time in his life so is always trying to find ways to share it out and make sure as many people benefit as possible.

has been known to randomly appear at the club's karaoke night and take part. usually a wham! song or never gonna give you up if he's feeling funny. if he's not modelling, he can usually be found at glow, obsessing over one thing or the other and being a typical perfectionist / stress head overthinking things.

bubbly af ; just wants to be friends with everyone. lowkey golden retriever energy. some people-pleasing tendencies but he's getting better since being in business and realising that sometimes it's very important to say no.

a dreadfully hopeless romantic. his dating history has, like his career, had many ups and downs. still firmly believes in love and the idea of settling down with 'the one' which has been his most recent dating goal though he's fallen out of the scene a lot with being so busy.

i'm building a wee plots page here but it's bare af & i would frankly lay down my life for any plots at all

#boroughs.intro #this is pure gibberish but we move ! #pls love him. he will love u

[quirrelli]

So, I finished Killing Eve S4 and I'm...

...just gonna pretend I do not see it. S3 wasn't amazing but its ending still works way better as the ending of the show than the actual ending, so I think I'll just be having that, thank you.

No, but seriously, how did they manage to have this much lesbian activity for four seasons and still end up with bury your gays lite?? Did literally no one in that writer's room have even a cursory look at tvtropes.com or talk to like one gay person??? Make no mistake, I was fully expecting one or both of them to die, especially since I was aware – without knowing any details – of the finale's negative reception. There are always going to be people who hate an ending and by extension the whole show simply because it killed off their favorite character, irrespective of context or execution. I am not one of those people, so I want to be crystal clear here when I say there were ways to make a tragic ending work for Killing Eve, a few fairly obvious ones even, and so I thought surely there was no way they would fall into that specific trap again.

The most generous interpretation of this (non-)ending I can come up with is to apply Hanlon's razor, in which case it might be be seen as a symptom of the general loss of focus the series suffered beginning with S3 and exponentially more so in S4. By which I mean they let the emotional core (the V/E dynamic) diverge wildly from the plot (finding the 12).

Never lose sight of the emotional core. I find you can get away with almost anything; technical faults, dodgy performances, plot holes (especially plot holes), even a meh ending, as long as the emotional core stays exactly where its name says it should stay.

Helene is an easy means of illustration for this point. Helene in S4 is basically less chaotic Villanelle, both in her function to the plot (murderous fancy bitch whomst is important as the key to a bigger bad) and in her relationship with Eve (gay, aggressive, lethally hot), which makes me wonder why they didn't just let Villanelle play that part??? It's driving me mad bc it's the most obvious thing and would have fixed so many problems in an instant.

By which I don't mean get rid of Helene btw, just make better use of her, as an actual member and face of the 12 or a double agent or sth. Give V the quest to hunt down the 12, it's already perfectly aligned with her motivations and capabilities at the end of S3! I mean she wants to impress Eve by showing her she's trying to be better and to start a new life, right? Cool, ok, therefore, in Villanelle's moderately disturbed mind it makes perfect sense to do this by violently hunting down a bunch of bad ppl ~ for Eve ~ . (The fact that she's also high key horny for murder is just a bonus, don't worry about it, baby.) If not that, then do sth else entirely with her, do the church thing (properly this time, not squeezed into two episodes and then entirely forgotten) but don't give hunting down the 12 to Helene, a character that already feels vaguely like a replacement for Villanelle while she's off doing character growth or whatever.

If they had done the thing that makes sense, it would have also meant that for once V and E's goals would have aligned, (though they might not have realized it immediately, you know, for spice,) which would have given us an opportunity to delve into a new dynamic: Partners in crime. Not S2 V tenuously working for E bc horny but actual challenging "we want the same thing except oh no, all this history and unresolved tension" cooperation. Obviously it would have gone horribly wrong in some fashion (I'm thinking Carolyn shenanigans), but at least it would have gone wrong for a reason that actually involved them bc the plot would have actually been their plot again. Incidentally, if you're going to have them hook up, this would be a great time for that, so it doesn't feel quite so backhanded if/when one/both die at the end.

The only reason I can imagine for not going down this route is that it would be too obvious, to which I can only say: [Insert tired comparison to Game of Thrones here.]

Seriously, hunting down the 12 is a natural conclusion to the story. It makes sense, was built to from the beginning and should have been a slam dunk in terms of plotting. Thus I am flummoxed as to how the writers managed to drop the ball so spectacularly that it hit every single one of their teammates square in the tits.

Well, I say that, the show does maintain a few of its strengths, first and foremost the cast of course, consequently some of the dialogue (Carolyn and V's interactions are delightful) and I do like the idea of both Gunn and Pam and also V getting shot by an arrow. Just wish the cupid/angel motif hadn't been so muddled and included Gunn more (who shouldn't have been called Gunn. It's a bad joke.)

Speaking of, many have rightly decried the lackluster supporting cast but as I see it, that is largely a holdover from S3, which killed off/wrote out basically everyone but the core four and failed to introduce any new characters that stayed past the season finale (besides Helene) bc it was too busy not moving the plot forward. You gotta have side characters in your show, so they made some new ones for S4 and gathered together whatever scraps they could (Hugo prettyboy and Martin the therapist). Idk if there was a good way to solve this problem exactly, but they could have certainly woven the new lot into the story better. Especially Pam. Pam could have been so much more. Oh and fuck the way they wrapped up Irina's story too. Complete waste.

With bad plotting comes shitty pacing. Again, that already started in S3. However, I will say in defense of S3 that it being a bit slower and introspective is very much the sort of thing that could have felt kinda ok, even needed in retrospect, if S4 had Risky Businessed into the room champagne in one hand, gun in the other, ready to party. Instead it made S3 look worse by turning it into a prelude to an even more plodding experience, now with bad editing!

For real, there's some really poorly constructed scenes; shots that feel disjointed, unfocused, repetitive. No idea what that's about, could it be the lingering effects of Covid-restrictions? Or maybe they just needed a better editor. Regardless, while not super dire it is absolutely noticeable and contributes to the general lack of cohesion, not to mention the tonal dissonance.

What am I saying, that's an excellent thing to mention. An ideal candidate to put the show and this too long note on my phone out of its misery in fact.

Killing Eve is supposed to be fun, you guys, remember that? S1 was at all times like two smash cuts away from becoming a full on comedy and it was amazing for that. It was the show's most unique feature, what took it from very good to transcendent as far as I'm concerned. Walking that line is hard, no doubt about it, and I get that different show runners have different visions and of course you can take on a more serious tone between seasons but then you actually need to make everything else match that shift. Integrate the absurdity into your writing or discard it, the way I've discarded the idea of ever writing a proper conclusion for anything. If you really want a dramatic, played entirely straight spy thriller conclusion with conspiracies upon conspiracies and doomed passions, that's fine. I mean, it’s not really bc you're losing what made Killing Eve great et cetera and so forth but my point is that you can't have your imaginary drag king Jesus and eat him too.

tl;dr: S4 is bad. There are several reasons for this.

#killing eve #villaneve #text post #my stuff

[credentialingguru]

Be of Good Cheer

Hey, addict and alcoholic. Be of good cheer. I know inside you have this incredible pain and suffering but guess what��you rock! You are an incredible human being. You are beautiful and full of life, hiding behind the trauma of your addictive behavior.

Get over it. Get over yourself. Stop being such a cry baby and victim. Having an addiction sucks but you ARE NOT what you smoke or drink… Addict is a label describing a painful condition brought about by a particular behavior. IT IS NOT who you are….it is about WHAT YOU DO. And behind the lie that you tell that you love boozing and doping and that it’s cool and you’re cool — it’s obvious that lifestyle is not working for you.

You can be cured. You can stop. Yes, you can. Don’t give me that bull crap “ I can’t stop”. Of course you can. The idea that you can’t stop boozing, doping, gambling, over-porn viewing your life away is a lie.

Yes, I get all that scientific evidence, I get the disease model… All that information overload would leave me powerless too! No one ever died of being a “label” but they have died as a result of their “labeled behavior”… just like a reckless driver kills.

You are not alone in having a mind full of false beliefs — boozers, druggies, gamblers, abusers and NORMIES alike live a life of liar, liar pants on fire. But this is not about others you may want to blame for where you are today. You and you alone can make this change.

Stop living up to the expectation of the label. You are not an addict or alcoholic. Yes, you do overuse-misuse-abuse booze and/or drugs. Yes, you do spend so much time on the internet or gambling, boozing, doping and abusing others, that you have become a Slave to the behavior- instead of the Master.

Stop saying “ Hi, I’m John, I’m an addict.” Instead –let’s say and believe — “ HI , I’m John, I’m overcoming an illness and looking forward to being healthy and loving life.”

Get Over it. Life is GOOD so just stop whining that no one loves you or people are mean to you or that your wife is a bitch or that someone owes you money — that life is unfair. Wha wha wha… Take a deep breath and change directions.

Choice and decision are not the same but are partners in the process… we make decisions to do some things that maybe we wouldn’t CHOOSE to do but know that we must do- so we decide.

YOU CAN STOP your addictive behavior today. You are not powerless. YOU have the bounty of the universe at your feet to assist you. Yes, you will be more effective when you give yourself over to a spiritual higher power to strengthen you and fill you with faith that YOU CAN DO IT.

You are a son or daughter of GOD. You have all the abilities and capabilities, inner strength and innate divine nature to overcome any and all adversity in your life… including being held hostage by your false beliefs and the bonds of the resulting addiction.

Now, just because I say, YOU CAN STOP- does not mean you won’t need help. As a person who is suffering, it is important to get to Detox, engage in a treatment program, go to a support group that is appropriate for your situation ( 12 steps, NA, Alanon, etc) get a good therapist, medical doctor, nutritionist, fitness trainer, life coach that can create a circle of influence for you to heal. It doesn’t mean it will be easy but in the simplicity of such a declaration — you are light years ahead in your restoration to health if you believe in yourself first.

You can have a life of good cheer. I am cheering for you over here- jumping in your corner!

Now, that being said- I wrote that post in 2010. Do I still agree with it’s premise?

YES!!!! But I also understand the process is hard. The road to recovery can be complicated and filled with failures, detours and dead ends'.

In the treatment and behavioral health world, changes in access for individuals to get help have improved — but still far from great. There are still closed doors and lack of funding. Even when funding is available through your insurance, it can be limited and barely helpful.

Our expertise in this world of treatment and therapy is what sets us apart in the credentialing and payor enrollment world. We know this struggle. If you are a provider- LET US HELP YOU.

We can create a relationship that benefits your particular service needs- whether it is consulting or full spectrum enrollment services. Let’s talk.

CredentialingGuru.com

[email protected]

8016561184 ext 115

#payor enrollment credentialing revenuecycle addictiontreatment

[firelord-frowny]

kinda feel like all individuals capable of getting pregnant should start insisting on pre-sex contracts before doin a FUcK with somebody who’s capable of impregnating them, in which the party with the dick must agree on a course of action to be taken in the event of accidental pregnancy lmao and if they aren’t cool with the conditions then they gets no pussy.

like ok, if the grotesque lawmakers of this country allow reproductive rights to be curtailed even further than they already are, then fine! As long as you’re okay with agreeing to assist financially with pregnancy and pediatric medical care in advance! As long as you’re prepared to cough up that child support money! As long as you’re prepared to drive the kid around to extracurriculars for the next 18ish years! As long as you’re ready to start saving up for a college fund! Or, perhaps, if your partner is willing to give birth to the baby but has no desire to be a parent, it will be solely up to YOU to either raise the child, or take whatever appropriate steps there are to put the kid up for adoption. Agree to provide financial support in the event of any catastrophic pregnancy complication that requires expensive treatment for either the mother or the child! 

If you’re comfortable with people no longer having safe access to abortion and yet you still wanna have sex with them, then uhhhhh your ass should be equally willing to preemptively commit to take HELLA responsibility for any child you sire. If you expect some poor teen mom to suffer through the trials and tribulation of pregnancy and/or childrearing, then you better be right there suffering with her. 

and before anyone asks not that i think anyone will actually ask lmao

yes, i think it would be fair for a ~male~ to provide a contract stipulating that they will NOT be held responsible in any capacity in the event of an accidental pregnancy. And if the ~female~ party isn’t cool with that, then she gets no dick! 

but anyway lmao i’m not actually necessarily advocating for some shit like this lmao i’m mostly just imagining it as, perhaps, a thought experiment designed to potentially inspire ~anti-abortion~ folks, particularly the ‘males,’ to have a selfish interest in making sure abortions are safe, legal, and affordable. if people straight up refuse to fuck you because they wouldn’t be allowed to get an abortion if you got them pregnant, then maaaaaybe you’ll see the fucking light and understand why reproductive rights are important. 

like lmao can you IMAGINE the tantrum so many men would throw if women all around the country quit having sex altogether to eliminate the possibility of being forced to carry an unwanted pregnancy??? tbh i almost have half a mind that they would try to just legalize rape instead of legalizing abortion. 

#i guess an exception to this theoretical legislation would be pregnancies that are the result of rape #and/or conceived in an abusive context #bc by absolutely no means should anyone EVER be obligated legally or morally #to continue any sort of contact with someone who's committed a crime against them #and if you knock somebody up by raping them then you should be required to adhere to a lifetime restraining order #and i suppose it should be up to the victim whether or not they'd want to demand financial support from the offender

[phoenixyfriend]

Commander Buir

Follow-up to this post. Not in any particular order, just spitballing ideas, with contributions from several friends on discord.

Like presumably it takes long enough for them all to meet up again that Anakin and Cody do, in fact, end up treating each other like family, just so I can have that good good "well, guess I'm Dad now" energy. Shmi isn't entirely sure what's going on but she's not a slave anymore and her kid seems to like this rando mando, so.

Anakin gets to have a mom and two dads, though one of the dads is arguably younger than him.

Also when they all meet up again and Cody explains the "General Skywalker got shrunk" thing, there are three reactions: (General) Obi-Wan: Oh, Anakin. Obi-Wan: [gestures to take him, ends up with an armful of clingy padatoddler] Anakin: You can't blame this on me, Obi. Obi-Wan, a little teary, because babies cause emotions: Of course I can, you absurd human being. ------ Rex: That's... my general. Anakin: I am, Captain. Rex: Cool cool cool I'm gonna go stand where I can't, uh, break you. Anakin: I'm not THAT fragile! ------ Ahsoka: [gasp] Skyguy is SKYKID! Anakin: Padawan, this is-- Ahsoka, grabbing him and cuddling: Oh my goodness you're adorable this is the best day ever. Anakin: This is humiliating, Snips, put me down. Ahsoka: Never.

Anakin hates being a toddler because of the lack of independence but Cody keeps picking him up when he's cranky and just holding him until he falls asleep and that's... nice.......

- The brain limitations aren't quite as bad as the situation with Sokanth and Ylliben in the other AU, but - Even if his brain is mostly adjusted he’s still got a tiny body with different needs that he’s not used to. Like, he needs to sleep more but he’s got more energy than usual when he’s awake and it’s all weird.

Cody carrying around toddler Anakin like "God you give me ulcers but you're adorable, you little shit."

Inconveniently tiny body aside, Anakin has a pretty great time in this au. His family are all together and safe and within reach. His wife isn't around, but toddler brain means he doesn't have the Romance Drive, so that's not as bad as it could be It could be significantly worse.

@atagotiak asked: Does Anakin get annoyed about being called cute? - To which I say, He bites the first few times but Shmi tells him that's Naughty so he stops. - Babies are cute so you packbond with them before they’re annoying, Anakin is cute as a self defense mechanism - He’s extra annoying so he needs to be extra cute

You know how you need to keep an eye on toddlers so they don't, like, fall down the stairs or put something toxic in their mouth? - They need to keep an eye on Anakin specifically so he doesn't rewire the ship they're in while they're in hyperspace. - He has less self control on account of being smol. He still has all the mechanical knowledge! Just less comprehension of y’know, consequences.

Anakin, with a sippy cup: This is demeaning. Ahsoka: Your hands don't work great enough to avoid accidents yet. Anakin: It's still embarrassing.

General Kenobi can't just kill Maul, not when Maul is baby right now (sixteen, which is baby enough) so he just. Kinda. Kidnaps a baby Sith. (It's fine. He's fine.)

General Kenobi (not to be confused with Padawan Kenobi) decides to declare Maul his new padawan because someone has to deal with this teenager, and Plo already claimed the rest of Ahsoka's training. And Anakin's three, so.

"What do we do with Maul?" "Eh, I can handle him. I dealt with teenage Anakin getting arrested for illegal pod-racing twice a month, I can work with this."

Maul bites, but only slightly more often than Anakin, it's fine

Ahsoka definitely bullies Maul whenever possible

Consider: Rex holding very still because Anakin wanted to be tall, so he climbed Rex. Being unexpectedly climbed is better than being unexpectedly yeeted. It's still extremely nerve-wracking. - Cody is perfectly capable of running around with a backpacking toddler General, but Rex freezes like a statue. - Ahsoka finds this hilarious

You know how little kids like to be thrown around and swung in circles and stuff like that? This must get even more ridiculous with force users. Can throw a child real high and catch them safely. - Rex panics whenever Ahsoka throws her chibified Master

Literally everyone except Rex loves being yeeted. Even Maul can appreciate a good tactical yeet no shut up he's not having fun this is TRAINING - Rex is Suffering - Cody, a very Tired Dad, deserves to mock his vod'ika a little, as stress relief - Rex, a certified Little Brother, shoves Cody off something tall. Jokes on him, Cody thinks freefall is fun too.

Tia asked: So the people who didn’t exist yet got flung bodily back in time and Anakin did the mental time travel. Why did Obi-Wan not become Padawan Kenobi? (I mean “because I want it that way” is def a good enough answer I’m just wondering if there’s any reason.) - Which, well, it really was mostly "I want to" but here's two options, both of which come down to Blame Daughter and Father. 1. They figured a responsible adult Jedi Master was needed to convince people. 2. Nobody was supposed to get de-aged but Daughter figured they needed to make Anakin less liable to kill things for a few years. - Also IDK the Force God-Manifestations also took away any risk of rapid aging and early death from the clones because uhhhhhhhhhhh I said so

Rex and Ahsoka are fumbling their way through a relationship where ages are just really confusing and awkward, so they're keeping it to just kisses and cuddles for a bit.

Cody is so tired he doesn't even realize anyone's hitting on him until it's been three years of co-parenting with Shmi and his General. - Somehow Anakin knows Cody is in a relationship before Cody does. Cody has never been so embarrassed. - How did he manage to be less observant than Skywalker? -- it was sabotage; all his brain cells were taken up in managing said Skywalker -- Because Skywalker was up at three in the morning whacking a training droid with a stick so he didn't have the energy for Relationships

Also Shmi's come-ons are super subtle, while the General's are... well, Cody's gotten very used to ignoring anything ambiguous on that end because fraternization rules, and also because Obi-Wan flirts a lot with everyone. So.

Please imagine Cody and General Kenobi walking around with Anakin tucked into a toddler sling while they do whatever work they've ended up with at the Temple. - Yes, Cody is helping the Jedi figure out the best plan of attack to take down this slave ring because his grasp on tactics is phenomenal and he knows how to deploy people at greatest efficiency, but also he's got a nosy toddler on his hip who keeps offering his own insane-but-competent ideas. - General Kenobi ends up with a Council Seat just on account of, like, being the kind of person he is. As often as not, he's got Anakin tucked into his robes, chewing on the ear of a stuffed tooka or something.

IDK what Shmi's doing but apparently Legends had it that some of the administrative and support positions in the Temple were held by non-Jedi civilians? So probably something like that.

GENERAL KENOBI LECTURING PADAWAN MAUL WHILE ANAKIN'S BALANCED ON HIS HIP AND GLARING AT MAUL FOR STEALING HIS DAD

General Kenobi: Ahsoka's babysitting. Anakin: I'm her master, I don't need babysitting, this is-- General Kenobi: Fine, then you need supervision, so that you don't blow up a training salle again. Anakin: And you think Ahsoka would stop me? General Kenobi, eye twitching: Fine, I'm leaving you with Plo.

Even if he’s mentally an adult Anakin always needs supervision Look at canon! Anakin was left without supervision for like two days and he became a Sith

Quinlan gets distracted by how attractive General Kenobi is and tells Obi-Wan "dude, you're gonna be so hot once you can get rid of the stupid haircut" and Obi-Wan pushes him into the nearest pond.

They end up with this weird "Uncle Jango" situation (uncle to Anakin, via weird brotherhood-ish to Cody) because Rex and Cody are just like "Uhhhhhhhhh yeah okay" about him eventually, and Jango just like. Drops by. Trying to Earn Affection Of Blood Kin by bringing weird gifts for them and their (ugh) Jedi.

"Okay, Rex'ika, I stopped by Shili--" "What?" "--and apparently this is a delicacy there, so just... your girlfriend will like it." "She's not my girlfriend." "..." "Okay, I can't call her my girlfriend. Jedi have rules about that sort of thing, and--" "This will make your Jedi happy, probably. Just take it, kid."

Baby Anakin got his arm back but for some inexplicable reason still has The Eye Scar. He matches Buir.

#disaster lineage #Anakin Skywalker #CodyWan #Commander Cody #Obi Wan Kenobi #Ahsoka Tano #Captain Rex #Shmi Skywalker #Maul #Darth Maul #Rexsoka #time travel #de aging #baby characters #Quinlan Vos #Phoenix Posts #Commander Buir

[lorenfangor]

I heard that #40 was super homophobic :/ so I skipped it. But now your fic is making me want to give it a try. How problematic is it? Are the characters worth it?

Okay.

Okay.

Let’s talk about #40.

The plot of The Other (a Marco POV) is that Marco sees an Andalite on a video tape sent in to some Unsolved Mysteries-esque TV show, and he assumes it’s Ax and hauls ass to save him from being captured. Ax, being Ax, has videotaped the show, and they pull it up and Tobias uses his hawk eyes to figure out that it’s not Ax, it’s another Andalite - one without a tailblade. Ax is appalled at the presence of this vecol (an Andalite word for a disabled person) and we find out that he and others of his species have deep ingrained prejudices against at least some kinds of disabled people.

Despite this, Marco and Ax go looking for the Andalite in question because he’s been spotted by national TV, and they meet a second one, named Gafinilan-Estrif-Valad. The vecol is Mertil-Iscar-Elmand, a former fighter pilot with a reputation and Gafinilan’s coded-gay life partner. The two of them have been on Earth since book 1; they crashed their fighters on the planet and have been trapped there thanks to the GalaxyTree going down. Gafinilan has adopted a human cover, a physics professor, and they’ve been living in secret ever since.

Thanks to that tape, Mertil has been captured by Visser Three, and he’s not morph-capable so he can’t escape. Gafinilan wants to trade the leader of the “Andalite Bandits” to the Yeerks to get his boyfriend back; he can’t fight to free Mertil because he’s terminally ill with a genetic disorder that will eventually kill him, and (it’s implied that) the Yeerks aren’t interested in disabled hosts, even disabled Andalite ones. Despite Ax’s ableism, the Animorphs agree to work with Gafinilan and free Mertil, and they’re successful. Marco ends the book talking about how there are all kinds of prejudices you’ll have to face and boxes that people will put you in, and you can’t necessarily escape them even if they’re reductive and inaccurate, but you can still live your life with pride.

So now that I’ve explained the plot, I’m gonna come out the gate saying that I love this book. I love it wholeheartedly, I love Marco’s narration, I love Ax having to deal with Andalite society’s ableism, I love these characters, and as a disabled lesbian I don’t find these disabled gays to be inherently Bad Rep.

that’s of course just my opinion and it doesn’t overshadow other issues that people might have? but at the same time, I don’t like the seemingly-common narrative that this book is all bad all the time, and I want to offer up a different read.To that end, I’m going to go point by point through some of the criticisms and common complaints that I’ve seen across the fandom over the years.

“Mertil and Gafinilan were put on a bus after one appearance because they were gay!”

this is one I’m going to have to disagree with hardcore. I talked about this yesterday, but in Animorphs there are a lot of characters or ideas that only get introduced once or twice and then get written off or dropped - in order off the top of my head, #11 (the Amazon trip), #16 (Fenestre and his cannibalism), #17 (the oatmeal), #18 (the hint of Yeerks doing genetic experiments in the hospital basement), #24/#39/#42 (the Helmacrons’ ability to detect morphing tech), #25 (the Venber), #28 (experiments with limiting brain function through drugs), #34 (the Hork-Bajir homeworld being retaken, the Ixcila procedure), #36 (the Nartec), #41 (Jake’s Bad Future Dream), and #44 (the Aboriginal people Cassie meets in Australia) all feature things that either seem to exist just for the sake of having a particular trope explored Animorphs-style or to feature an idea for One Single Book.

This is a series that’s episodic and has a very limited overall story arc because of how children’s literature in the 90s was structured - these books are closer to The Saddle Club, Sweet Valley High, Animal Ark, or The Baby-Sitters’ Club than they are to Harry Potter or A Series of Unfortunate Events. Mertil and Gafinilan don’t get to be in more than one book because they’re not established in the main cast or the supporting cast, I don’t think that it’s solely got anything to do with their being gay.

“Gafinilan has AIDS, this is a book about AIDS, and that’s homophobic!”

Okay, this is… hard. First, yes, Gafinilan does have a terminal illness. Yes, Gafinilan is gay. No, Soola’s Disease is not AIDS.

I have two responses to this, and I’ll attack them in order of their occurrence in my thought. First, there’s coded AIDS diseases all over genre fiction, especially genre fiction from that era, because the AIDS epidemic made a massive impact on public life and fundamentally changed both how the public perceived illness and queerness and how queer people themselves experienced it. I was too young to live through it, but my dad’s college roommate was out, and my dad himself has a lot of friends who he just ceases to talk about if the conversation gets past 1986 or so - this was devastating and it got examined in art for more reasons than “gay people all have AIDS”, and I dislike the implication that the only reason it could ever appear was as a tired stereotype or a message that Being Queer Means Death. Gafinilan is kind, fond of flowers, and fond of children - he’s multifaceted, and he’s got a terminal illness. Those kinds of people really exist, and they aren’t Bad Rep.

Second off, Soola’s Disease? Really isn’t AIDS. It’s a congenital genetic illness that develops over time, cannot be transmitted, and does not carry a serious stigma the way AIDS did. Gafinilan also has access to a cure - he could become a nothlit and no longer be afflicted by it, even if it’s considered somewhat dishonorable to go nothlit to escape that way. That’s not AIDS, and in fact at no point in my read and rereads did I assume that his having a terminal illness was supposed to be a commentary on homosexuality until I found out that other people were assuming it.

“Mertil losing his tail means he’s lost his masculinity, and that’s bad because he’s gay! That’s homophobic!”

so this is another one I’ve gotta hardcore disagree with, because while Mertil is one of two Very Obviously Queer Characters, he’s not the only character who loses something fundamental about himself, or even loses access to sexual and/or romantic capability in ways he was familiar with.

Tobias and Arbron both get ripped out of their ordinary normal lives by going nothlit in bad situations, and while they both wind up finding fulfillment and freedom despite that, it’s still traumatic, even more for Arbron I’d say than for Tobias. And on a psychological level, none of the main cast is left unmarked or free of trauma or free of deep change thanks to the bad things that have happened to them - they’re no less fundamentally altered than Mertil, even if it’s mental rather than physical. And yes, tail loss is equated with castration or emasculation, but that doesn’t automatically mean Mertil suffering it is tied to his homosexuality and therefore the takeaway we’re intended to have is “Being gay is tragic and makes you less of a man”. This is a series where bad shit happens to everyone, and enduring losses that take away things central to one’s self-conception or identity or body is just part of the story.

Also, frankly? Plenty of IRL disabled people have to grapple with a loss of sexual function, and again, they’re not Bad Rep just because they’re messy.

“Andalite society is confusingly written in this book, and the disability aspects are clearly just a coverup for the gay stuff!”

Andalite society is canonically sexist, a bit exceptionalist and prejudiced in their own favor, and pretty contradictory and often challenged internally on its own norms. In essence, it’s a pretty ordinary society, and they’re really realistic as sci-fi races go. It makes sense from that perspective that Andalites would tolerate scarring or a lost stalk eye or a lost skull eye, but not tolerate serious injuries that significantly impact your perceived quality of life. Ableism is like that - it’s not one-size-fits-all. I look at Ax’s reactions and I see a lot of my own family and friends’ behaviors - this vibes with my understanding of prejudice, you know?

“Mertil and Gafinilan have a tragic ending, which means the story is saying that being gay dooms you to tragedy!”

Mertil and Gafinilan have the best possible ending that they could ask for? They are victims of the war, they are suffering because of the war, they get the same cocktail of trauma and damage that every other soldier gets. But unlike Jake and Tobias and Marco, unlike Elfangor, unlike Aximili? Their ending comes in peace, in their own home. Gafinilan isn’t dying alone, he’s got the love of his life with him. Mertil isn’t going to be as isolated anymore, he’s got Marco for a friend. Animorphs is a tragedy, it’s not a happy story, it’s not something that guarantees a beautiful sunshine-and-roses ending for everyone, and I love tragedy, and so I will fight for this story. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it deserved better. But it’s not less meaningful just because it’s sad. Nobody is entitled to anything in this book, and it’s just as true for these two as it is for anyone else.

“It’s not cool that the only canonically gay characters in this series don’t get to be happy and trauma-free and unblemished Good Rep!”

This is one I can kind of understand, and I’ll give some ground to it, because it is sucky. The only thing I’ll say is that I stand by my argument that nothing that happens to Mertil and Gafinilan is unusual compared to what happens to the rest of the cast, and that their ending is way happier than Rachel and Tobias’s, or Jake and Cassie’s. But it’s a legitimate point of frustration, and the one argument I’ll say I agree has validity.

(Though, I also want to point out that I think there are plenty of equally queercoded characters in the story who aren’t Mertil and Gafinilan - Tobias, Rachel, Cassie, and Marco all get at least one or two moments that signal to me that they’re potentially LGBT+, not to mention Mr. Tidwell and Illim in #29 and their long-term domestic partnership. There’s no reason to assume that the only queer people here are those two aliens when Marco’s descriptions of Jake exist.)

“Marco uses slurs and reduces Gafinilan’s whole identity to his illness!”

Technically, yes, this is true, except putting it that way strips the whole passage of its context. Marco is discussing the boxes society puts you into, the ones you don’t have a choice about facing or escaping. He’s talking about negative stereotypes and reductive generalizations, he’s referring to them as bad things that you get inflicted upon you by an outside world or by friends who don’t know the whole story or the real you. The slurs he uses are real slurs that get thrown at people still, and they’re not okay, and the point is that they’re not okay but assholes are going to call you by them anyway. He ends by saying “you just have to learn to live with it”, and since this is coming from a fifteen-year-old Latino kid who we know is picked on by bullies for all sorts of reasons and who faces racism and homophobia? He knows what he’s talking about. He’s bitter about what’s been said and done, he’s not stating it like it’s a good thing.

Yes, absolutely, this speech is a product of its time, but it’s a product of its time that speaks of defiance and says “We aren’t what we’re said to be,” and in the year this was published? That’s a good message.

tl;dr The Other is good, actually, and Mertil and Gafinilan are incredible characters who deserve all the love they could possibly get.

#animorphs #animorphs meta #mertil/gafinilan #mertil #gafinilan #mertil-iscar-elmand #gafinilan-estrif-valad

[bonny-kookoo]

👹Bad Habits (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️🔞

👹Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

👹Genre: (Twisted)Romance, Angst, Smut, Psycho!JK

👹Warnings: Size kink, Body worship, biting, rough manhandling, JK accidentally hurts her a bit (but apologizes dw), mildly disturbing themes (blood, guts, bones cracking...), criminal activities such as theft (mentioned) and murder (not actively stated, but heavily implied), panic attack, psychotic episodes, psycho!JK because holy shit I actually got scared what did I create, degrading names (he calls her a whore in his mind like once..), possessive JK, strength kink, reader is unable to conceive (chances are very slim), unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it folks), impreg kink, dead dove do not eat 🕊 manipulative Koo, Dom!Kook, therapy talk, relapses, horrible anger management, emotional koo, emotional reader, look mom I actually wrote a happy ending

👹Summary: Oh monster monster under my bed, you’re the only one I have left, come out and play ‘cause I need a friend.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

You know this, you are very aware of it if the very much still gaping holes in the walls of your apartment, left from his most recent violent episode is anything to go by. He's got anger issues, that much is very apparent to anyone who genuinely knows Jungkook. Somehow he just can't keep himself in check, it's like he just needs the perfect trigger to simply go off like a bomb dropped from ten feet. It doesn't take much to rile him up. It takes a lot however to get him back down again.

Now, this would be the perfect moment to explain that you are the sweet and kind ray of sunlight calming his temper and cooling his ever violently burning mind- but that's not the case. There's nothing that can tame the young man at your side, nothing that can snap that collar around his neck and chain him up to a wall until he's safe to be around again. You can't do anything more than watch and pray that he will keep his promise to never ever hurt you. At first, you were worried. Anyone would be.

But then the first outbreak came.

Then the second.

And you were fine.

He would wreck the apartment, throw furniture, or beat someone to a bloody mess in an alleyway next to a nightclub simply because the guy had looked at your admittedly short skirt the wrong way. While for the longest time he didn't care about anyone, you've become his possession, in every way that the word stands. He owns you, every single cell of your being is his, and he's ready to push anyone's eyes back into their skull just for looking at you weirdly. No one is allowed to lust after you but him. No one's allowed to even think about you but him.

It's quite bittersweet, the reasoning behind his obsession with you. You're not scared, you're never running away, you're always so gentle, so delicate, such an angel around him- and in one way he fears that one day he's gonna be the wolf eating the sheep in a frenzy. In the other however, he's weirdly amused by it; the way you still look at him so innocently as if you didn't know that his hands could snap your neck like a twig between his combat boots he's typically sporting. It's a very twisted story with you two, and in a sense, he's certain that you have to be just as sick in your head as he is for genuinely loving him and his bad habits.

Just like now.

You're not saying anything. Even when you can hear the young mans ribs cracking underneath the steel toed black boots of your boyfriend, you're quiet, watching, unable to tear your eyes away from him- and you don't even know who exactly you're watching. You have already forgotten what the young man looked like- your eyes unable to reconstruct his facial features back to what they were before Jungkook had thrown his fists into them until the stranger couldn't even open his eyes anymore, face bloody and bruised to the point where you're hoping he won't survive it. You're also simply watching as Jungkooks pretty long hair, drenched in a mixture of sweat and rain from above whips around violently as if to mimic the way his muscled leg stomps into the man's chest over an over again, face holding a determination that should scare you. It's all over after a moment however, as your boyfriend seems to grow a bit tired now, slowly calming down as his anger ebbs down, waves finally evening as he breathes heavily. He runs a hand through his hair as he looks at what's in front of his feet; unable to quite realize that this was actually him. He turns, looking for you, and his entire facial expression suddenly changes.

While he looked absolutely terrifying just moments before, he's suddenly holding such a sweet and calm glint in his eyes as he takes off his jacket, putting it over your head as he smiles down at you, inner demon now fed again as it seems to crawl back behind his actual soul it consumes daily. You smile back, and he leads you out of the alley, giggling like a teenager when you playfully start to run towards the car, calling him a sore looser when he doesn't let you win like he usually does.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's just a young man as well, deep down.

He's got you sat on his lap as he greedily licks at your neck, teeth suddenly clamping down on the skin as you mewl underneath his touch and actions. He's grinning like the devil in person, his large-in-comparison palms holding your behind as they suddenly sneak underneath your shirt; his shirt, actually, and the main reason he suddenly got hungry to devour you. Your hair is still slightly damp, but he doesn't care as he lifts you up, placing you underneath him on your shared bed, hair falling into his eyes as he pulls the dark grey carharrt shirt over your head, immediately kissing your collarbone, hands kneading your breasts needily as he seems too eager to slow down anytime soon. He grabs your ribs and its as if he doesn't know where to touch- he wants it all, wants to feel it all, all at once, because it drowns out all the bad things he usually does. You're an outlet for his pent up aggression, only that he lets loose differently with you. He's got no hunger to make you suffer, to give you pain or to have you look at him in fear. No, he simply craves the way you writhe underneath him, ready for him, wanting, needing him. Such an angel, such a whore, so needy for his love and affection.

Something he wasn't sure he was capable of.

But he is, and it shows; while he usually moves with his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed, ever so agitated by the simplest of things, his face is calm now, relaxed, eyes however still feral- his gaze enough to make your core ache and your skin tingle. He's chuckling as he moves you around, suddenly impatient as he noticed your panties won't leave your legs as fast as he wants them to. It irritates him to the point where he just rips them as the seams, the fabric now ruined, but neither of you care as his hand instantly finds its way down to cup your heat, ring- and middle finger collecting your slick to bring it upwards to your clit, thumb running in circles over it as you squirm and whine, making him smile.

You're so sweet like this, and he can't help but move your legs, pulling you closer to him in his usual rough manner- he's not capable of being all gentle and sweet, after all. He tries, he really does, but Jungkook is like an overgrown puppy; he doesn't know how much strength he actually has. And it shows, as you squeak, painfully so, as he had gripped your legs a bit too tightly; fingerprints already an angry red on your skin, and he cooes at you, apologizing. "I'm sorry, so sorry.." He hushes against your skin, placing sweet kisses on the pulsing marks on your leg. "can't help it baby.." He muses, and you simply nod your head, hands reaching out for him as he smiles again, kissing your lips, finally.

He's never been fond of the gesture before, not understanding why something as unsanitary as this could be meant to signify any romance at all. But eventually he's gotten to know the intimacy of it, and had decided for himself that he'll never kiss anyone but you in his life. He doesn't want anyone but you anyways. You're his, for now, and forever.

"You're so sweet angel, you know that?"

He humms it against your neck as he finally rids himself of his own clothes, erection hard and proudly waiting to bury itself into your sweet cunt. "Hmm.." He humms again, amusement in his voice as he continues to draw patterns over your sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. "I still can't believe how I fit inside that pretty body of yours." He says, as you suddenly feel the hot skin of his length against your middle. "Can't believe you can take it so well princess." His hand leaves your core finally, as he slowly enters you, making you mewl as he groans.

He doesn't have much self-restraint, but every time you're together like this, you're both amazed by how much he can control himself. The way he plays you like an expensive instrument makes you hang from his hands like a puppet on its strings. And you love it- the simple fact that he's able to do anything he wants with you, yet he'd never use you just to throw you away. He'd never hurt you. You know this.

He grins as he places his hand over the slight bulge forming underneath your skin where his cock is moving inside you, all warm and swollen, impatient as he can't help but move more vigorously, harder than before, as your body moves along with the beat he's giving you. He's in control, its impossible to lie about that and you don't see any problem with that. Your mind is empty, only pleasure remains as he bites down onto your skin again, hands roaming as if they can't decide where they want to stay; because it's the truth after all. He can't decide what he loves most about you, if your body is whats the most desirable or if its your soul locked inside of it and chained to his own like a prisoner. He gets a kick out of this feeling, out of the way you're speared on his cock like the doll you are, and if he desired to, he could simply snap your bones like those pepero snacks you always eat, and it would be just as sweet as they taste. Yet he doesn't- he's being oh so generous with you, letting you live beside him, keeping you as safe as he could at his side, never to let anything come close to you. You're his.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also head over heels in love with you.

You don't know what it was this time.

You only know that he's currently in your shared apartment, having returned from Job hunting, and by the sounds of crashing glass, he's probably having another one of those days. You know you should just leave him, but ever so often your own curiosity gets the best of you, and you sit up on the bed, dressed in nothing but a shirt, your panties, and socks to keep your feet warm, since the heating in your apartment broke months ago. You carefully open the bedroom door, peaking around the wood to spot him as he currently kicks his shoes off in an ever so violent manner. He spots you, eyes dark and feral, but this time it's not lust in them. "Get back inside." He barks out, and you know why he does it.

He wants to keep you safe.

Against all odds he knows what he is. He knows he's sick, knows he's a danger to himself and others, and that's why he's always telling you to stay away from him whenever his anger is boiling over like this. It's his way of keeping you safe, keeping you protected and you know better than to go against his own judgement. He knows himself best, after all.

Only as you can hear him hiss in pain do you go against him.

As the apartment grows quiet, you slowly step outside the room again, eyes searching for the form of your boyfriend, before finally spotting him near the kitchen table, one hand on it, while the other is held close to his chest. You can see blood on the white cracked tiled floor close to him, and you immediately grow worried for him. You slowly creep inside the bathroom, retrieving some stuff from the first aid kit, as you walk back outside, spotting him on the couch now. "..kookie?" You carefully ask, wary of any signs of his body that he's not yet down to earth yet. But he doesn't move at all. You slowly walk around the couch, squatting down in front of him as your hands carefully reach out for his inked arm, and he lets you, his eyes eerily not looking at anything at all. You hiss a bit and sit down on his lap as he doesn't argue with you, almost delicately treating his wounded skin. He's probably somehow cut himself on the broken glass from the photo frame he broke. He seems awfully exhausted, which isn't a new sight to you. He usually is after a day like that.

"We're gonna loose the apartment." He says darkly, yet you don't stop what you're doing, simply humming an acknowledgement at him, while you don't look up at him. "Are you even listening?!" He suddenly barks out, grabbing your wrists as you look at him; not in fear however. You simply wait for him, like you always do, until he suddenly looks down onto his hands, letting go of your now red wrists with a look on his face like his favorite puppy has just been killed. "They simply said because of my criminal record they can't employ me-" He began, already getting riled up again as you kissed his cheek to distract him before he could slip again. With you situated on his lap like that, it could prove fatal.

"I'm gonna get a job, from home maybe. We'll figure things out." You softly say, and he doesn't seem like he quite believes you. He doesn't need to, at least not yet. It takes time, but you'll take yourself the time you need, even if its someone else's. Its not like he ever really cared about whats who's after all. "I still love you, you know?" You say, and that's when he breaks.

For the first time in those years you know him, he falls to the ground, crashes onto concrete with full force, and it wrecks through his entire body as he pulls you close, sobbing into your neck as he hiccups and chokes on his emotions, his hug painfully tight, but you don't complain. You're too shocked by his state to react much, other than running a hand over his back in a hopefully soothing manner. He doesn't stop for a moment, and you don't have a good feeling for time, so you cant tell how long you both sit like this, until he's finally exhausted to the point of simple slumping down, asleep as his body finally gives up. You carefully stand up, letting him somehow softly fall to his side as you struggle to pull his legs up to properly lay o the couch. Walking into the bedroom you retrieve blankets for him and yourself, as you crawl underneath his arm to lay against his chest, underneath the blankets, as you try and think of a way to help him.

You can't get a job. Not only because he won't let you, but because you get sick too easily. You're not allowed by doctors advice to work in any field that requires direct customer contact- and sadly that's all your educational level would allow you to work in. It never bothered Jungkook however, if anything he welcomed it as a good reason for you to stay at home, and at his side at all times. For him however, there were different reasons he didn't have a job. He couldn't keep one, with his short temper making him unfit for any job that required him to handle other people. He was a bomb ready to explode any moment at all times, and it was hard for him to land a job at any interview he somehow got. And nowadays, as word got around, no one simply wanted to employ him; stories of him going off at complaints and always being ready to throw hands made him the talk of the town in terms of who to look out for. He also had a criminal record- which didn't make the situation any easier.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. And it's a serious issue.

You somehow made it another month concerning rent.

With you selling some clothing you made yourself for a reasonable price, you somehow had at least a bit of an income, yet Jungkook didn't really seem like himself these days. He didn't leave the apartment much, and seemed much more grim to everything around him. You somehow thought that maybe he was just in a bad mood- but it seemed like this time things were a bit more serious than that.

"Princess?" He calls, as you rub your hand over the side of your neck, having laid on the couch weirdly as you had been taking a nap recently. You perked up at his call, walking out of the open kitchen to meet his gaze in the living room, his eyes serious as he pats his thighs; an invitation for you to sit down. He likes having you seated on his lap like this; it makes him feel all comfortable, knowing that you're so close to him. "I.." He starts, and visibly struggles with finding the right words for what he wants to say. "I want to get therapy." He states, and its quiet for a moment. You need to process his words for a second, as he never spoke about his issues like this. You never really thought about this option at all, and it makes you feel bad, deep inside, as you now realize that this was something you should've thought about as well, from the start on maybe. But you never wanted him to change for you; making you kick yourself in your thoughts. It never occurred to you that he wasn't changing for you, he didn't need to change for you, he needed to change for himself as well. You simply started to smile, and your arms snaked around his neck as he breathed in your scent, happy that you take this so well. He had struggled with the acceptance of it for a long time, and with you at his side, he knows he can somehow maybe change.

Even if its just a bit.

"I want to be a better man. For me, and mostly for you." He starts, and you attempt to speak, but he smiles, and kisses you instead, successfully shutting you up. "Don't say I don't need to. We know I do." He explains, and you nod. You're curious on why he suddenly realized it, but you decide not to dig too deep, as he currently seems vulnerable enough to you. So you simply let him hold you like this, quietly, calmly, while outside the thunderstorm continues, rain hitting the windows with as much force as the wind sees fit. Its ironic, really. Typically the situation is the opposite.

But somehow it feels like everything is changing, right in that moment. Just a few words have been spoken, but the ones that did make it out were a promise, a vow, a sentence of hope to finally get a hold on the future you both had dreamed about before, tangled in sheets and each others limbs. He's always said he wanted a family, as cheesy as it sounded to him back then, and then he'd laughed about it as if it was a joke. It somehow was, at least during that time it was; how could he be a better father than his if he was just the same? He didn't want his story to take a turn like that, to end up hurting you in the process of his own selfishness just to get what he wanted. No, he wanted something different in his life; he wanted his children to look up to him as a person they could be in awe of not because they were scared, but because they were proud to have them.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also finally realizing it.

Therapy never goes smoothly from A to point B. It's never a smooth ride, never a straight line connecting the start to the goal. And Jungkook is feeling that as he walks through the door, fuming after an in his eyes pointless session with his therapist. Why the fuck would they want to know about his childhood? That's his business and his own only, it doesn't concern anyone other than himself. Hell, he never even talked to you about it- and he sure as hell won't start chatting away with a stranger like this. He can't control himself as his fist connects with the wall next to the door, drywall cracking underneath the force as you stand in the middle of the living room, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He's disappointed in himself in that moment; he was supposed to get better. He was supposed to have himself in check by now, it was supposed to end; yet here he is, just the same as a month before he started. You try and walk towards him, and he's ready to tell you to turn around and leave him alone, but he doesn't. For some reason, this is not pure anger he's feeling.

It's frustration.

And it leads to his eyes watering, as he lets you hold him close, your warm palms running over his back as best as you can with the height difference, and he simply lets his forehead rest on your shoulder, breathing while you softly count next to his ear. He concentrates and lets go of his emotions all at once, taking his time to feel them before he opens his mind up to letting them go. It sounded stupid to him when he was told that this could help him, but now that he's doing it, he gets why its being taught. It helps. Its like a bandaid being taken off after your cut has heeled. It hurts a bit as its being taken off, but the fresh air on the newly connected skin feels so good that the short sting before is more than worth it.

He sniffles, and you giggle, making him chuckle as well, as he runs a hand over your head, a silent sign that he's okay now. "Try again next week. You're doing so great now, Kookie." You say, and its this small encouragmenent that makes him grin brightly.

Because as you both stand in the kitchen, making homemade pizza for the first time in ages, he feels at ease with his surroundings. He calms down rather quickly even though some things don't go as planned, and laughs more freely at his own mistakes as you smile brightly at him. Sometimes you feel like crying, seeing him change like this, but you're strong enough to hold it in until he leaves during the day. You're still unsure how the future will be changing, still a lot unknown to the both of you, but for now, you'll continue to keep each others heads above the waves with your sewing, while he does his best at getting better. You know he can make it, you're certain he can, and will.

Because Jungkook is sick. But he's finally getting help.

You don't know what has happened when he bursts through the door, uncaring to either take off his shoes nor to close it behind him, as he picks you up, spins you around, grinning so much his eyes crinkle at their sides, and you laugh, even though you don't know why he's so happy. "I got a job! Baby, I finally got a job!" He yells, screams almost, and it makes your eyes water; not because he's taking a huge weight off your shoulder, but because this has been one of his biggest goals ever since he started this journey of getting help. He's so happy about it that this time you can't keep it in, you can't stop the tears as they flow out, making you hiccup and wheep into his shoulder as you struggle to get your words out. "Baby- Princess, hey hey-" He says, setting you down as his hands wipe away at your eyes, the letter confirming his acceptance still in his left hand as he worriedly looks at you. "Why are you crying angel? hm?" He cooes, admittedly a bit amused, because he can imagine what's happening.

"I'm so happy!" You squeeze out, before another wave hits you, and he kneels down, holding you tightly again, as he doesn't let go of you, his love for you overflowing inside his veins as it fills his entire body. He's so thankful for your existence in his life, and he will never be truly able to properly tell you that. It's impossible to put it into his words how much he appreciates you staying at his side through this entire endeavor. Every time he's asked why he does this, his answer is always your name on his lips, always spoken with a slight smile, nowadays a bright grin he's not ashamed showing.

You don't let him go until he chuckles. "Will you let me close the door at least?" He asks amused, as he feels the slightly cool breeze coming inside from the complex' hallway. You disconnect yourself from him for a moment, wiping your eyes with your sleeve as he closes the door, finally taking off his shoes at last, as he walks back, running towards you with a playful growl that makes you laugh as you try and run away from him. But he catches you easily, carrying you over his shoulder into the bedroom, where he bites and licks at your neck, hands pinching your sides making you squirm around and laugh, desperately trying to get away from him. He'll never let you, and you know this, so its unsurprising that he's suddenly pulling your sweater over your head, needing to be close to you. It's cold inside the apartment, and you shiver as the almost icy air around you nips at your skin. "Can't wait until we can use the heating again.." He murmurs against your skin as he shifts around a bit, carefully undressing himself before he crawls underneath the heavy covers with you. "then you can flaunt around in your pretty underwear all day without getting cold." He chuckles, as you hit his chest playfully at the remark. "What? Its always so cold I never get to see you in it." He whines, as he reaches between your legs, inked hand easily working you up as you squirm around. "I never get to see your pretty body properly because we have to hide away like this." He complains, and you simply whine at him, as he suddenly enters you. "For now I'll just warm you up like this, hm?" He humms out, and you nod, not really understanding what you're agreeing to, but you do it anyways.

He's awfully slow and soft, you notice, as he' way more collected as usual. "I love this." He suddenly presses out, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the side if your neck, trailing down to nip at your collarbone, while his hands find yours, intertwining your fingers in a gesture you can only describe as awfully romantic. "I love being able to make love to you." He explains, as you open your eyes a bit, meeting his as he watches you underneath him. "Though I think you don't mind me being a bit rough with you, no?" He playfully suggests, and your cheeks grow a bit red at that, before he laughs, head dipping down to properly kiss your lips, tongue instantly searching for entrance as he doesn't pick up the pace. "Can't wait until you're all round with my baby." He suddenly suggests, and your eyes open wide as you open your mouth to correct him, but you shut up as his eyes meet yours, determination in them as he suddenly grabs the behind of your thighs, positioning them a bit differently to hit even deeper. "I know, I know-" He chants, as he picks up his pace. "I don't care." He presses out between his own heavy breaths. "I'll just-" He begins, loving the way you mewl under his touch, "I'll just fuck you over and over again until it works." He promises, and you simply nod, unable to deny him. The chances you'll ever conceive are slim- but as he states, never zero. "I'll just- I'll just fill you up until your body can't help but give me a child." He muses, as you start to clench. And he knows, notices, how much this idea is just as enticing to you as it is to him. "You gonna cum? Hm?" He asks, and you nod vigorously before you arch your back off the mattress, making him groan as he shoots his load as well, the visual image of your pleasure underneath him combined with the way you clench his aching length inside granting him his release as well.

As you lay on your sides, all snuggled up underneath the covers after cleaning up, he kisses your bare shoulder, eyes closed. "I mean it, you know." He says, and you humm a reply, before he explains further. "I want a family with you. Someday. When I'm ready." He says, and you nod. You'll somehow make it work, you know this. If he can overcome his demons, you can overcome your own cursed body as well. You deeply hope, at least.

Because Jeon Jungkook is sick, but he's starting to see a future.

"Jeon!" His coworker yells in the big hall he's working in. "Why, pray tell, did you never tell us your girl is that fucking pretty, aye?" He barks in a playful manner, as you walk inside beside the old man, carrying a small plastic bag with what he assumes is a lunchbox. The view of you next to that man stirs something inside him, as he slowly gets up, wrench still in his hand, brows furrowed.

"Because your filthy hands should stay six feet away from her." He responds, with his brows still furrowed, before he finally sneezes.

"Bless you, hah! I'll let you have your break earlier-" The old man winks at you, then gives Jungkook a firm hit against the chest, taking the wrench away from him. "But only because she's cute!" He laughs, as he walks into the hall, Jungkook now walking towards you.

You're proud of him.

Months ago, this would've never been possible; neither the simple fact that he had a job, nor the small incident with his coworker just now. He still got easily irritated, but he worked through these emotions way more easy nowadays. His coworkers and boss know of his past, know what he was like and know that he's still deep in therapy, but they don't judge. They simply accept him, tame him back into his cage whenever he's close to boiling over again. You love the fact that you can walk inside the breakroom with him, eyes sparkling with newfound childish playfulness as he peaks inside the bag you brought him. He's still very careful with you leaving the house, but its not anymore just for his own gain- he's more open to his surroundings, he's starting to think about how he and his actions can affect others. He doesn't care much still; but he's realized that pretending is enough for now. Small steps.

"The handyman was there today." You say, as you watch him dig into the fried rice you brought him, his interest now gained. "They turned on the heating again. Can you imagine? I didn't even know we had floorboard heating!" You exclaimed excitedly, and Jungkooks eyes widen as well.

"Really? I didn't know either. Fuck, can't wait to come home now." He says, swallowing his bite before taking a sip of his canned soda. "Did that label contact you yet?" He asks, and you shake your head. Recently, you had gained the interest of a bigger clothing label, who wanted to collaborate with you for this season's designs. "Ah, that takes time I guess. We'll wait, its fine." You know he's not only saying that for you, but himself as well. He still gets agitated over small things, but he deals with them a bit more easily. "I'll be home in a couple hours. Do you wanna wait here, or go home?" He asks, and you stand up, packing his now empty food container as you smile.

"I'll take the bus, don't worry." You say, and he furrows his brows playfully.

"Mask?" He asks, and you hold it up proudly, well aware of the precautions you need to take to make public transport safe for you.

"Good girl. Text me when you're home yeah? I'll get us takeout for dinner." He says, as he kisses the top of your head. You nod, and wave him goodbye as you two go separate ways, at least for now, until he's finally free of work.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

But he's slowly healing.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #dom!jungkook #dom jungkook #Bad Habits!AU

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Sundress Season

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.5k

Tags: Fluff, Domestic af, Hurt/Comfort, Nothing major the Reader got some scratches gardening and Frankie is Concerned, p in v sex, wrap it before you tap it, Size Kink, Sort Of, Exhibitionism, If You Squint, A little, Dirty Talk, mostly just tooth-rotting fluff (plus a little loving smut),Triple Frontier, Frankie “Catfish” Morales, Domestic, Gardening, Outdoor Sex, No Beta

Summary: You and Frankie have just moved into a farmhouse fixer upper and are enjoying the first warm day of spring. A lazy afternoon nap turns into something... more.

Read on Ao3

Leaning the shovel against the white picket fence, you stand back to take an appraising look at your handiwork, squinting against the midday sun. You’ve taken advantage of one of the first truly warm days of spring to plant some blackberry bushes along the boundary of your new home. Sweat slides down your spine and you can already feel a dull ache spreading through your calves and along your forearms, but you toss aside your leather work gloves with a grin, proud of your morning’s work. You brush your hair away from your face with the back of an arm, leaving a trace of dirt along your forehead. “Frankie, come look.”

“One sec.” His answer is muffled, even considering it’s coming from inside the old farmhouse the two of you have just moved into, and you realize he must still be working on the kitchen sink.

You enter the house, surprisingly cool and dim after the sunny warmth outside, and walk to the kitchen. Frankie’s legs jut out from beneath the sink, and all you can see of him are his work boots, khaki pants, and a glimpse of his soft stomach where the rusty red t-shirt he’s wearing has ridden up. You lean against a nearby counter, the smooth stone lip pressing into your lower back, and smile down fondly at him. “How’s the sink coming?”

The house is a dream come true for both of you, but it’s also needed a ton of work both inside and out. You’ve already sanded floors, patched up creaking stairs, painted most of the rooms, and ripped out overgrown hedges that had threatened to take over the yard. Once you’d cleared them out, the yard and gardens became an invitingly open canvas, just waiting for you to make your own.

The two of you had spent several late winter evenings curled up in front of the stone hearth, seed catalogs and plant nursery order slips laid out in front of you, arguing pleasantly over how to cram in every plant both of you want. You’re determined to line the yard with fruit trees and shrubs, while Frankie is surprisingly invested in the beds where he plans to cultivate tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, and a variety of herbs. At least you both agreed to leave the large, well-established lilac trees bookending the house, and you’re currently waiting to see who will win the bet about what color the sprawling, thorn-covered rose bushes will be. You’re hoping for a buttery yellow to complement the lilacs, while Frankie is holding out hope that they’ll be the same pale pink as the roses he’d brought you for one of your first dates.

This morning, just when the two of you had made plans to tackle some of the new plantings, the kitchen drain had backed up. You’d decided that job would be better handled by Frankie and headed out to start the landscaping yourself. “Almost there, I just need to…” Frankie’s deep in concentration, and you swear you can almost see him sticking the tip of his tongue out as he focuses. There’s a final sound of metal scraping against metal, followed by a victorious “ha! Try it now.”

“You sure? I don’t want to soak you.”

A muted huff echoes from the space below the sink. “What, you don’t trust me?”

“Ok,” you shrug. “Just don’t blame me if you get a faceful of water.” You turn the tap on slowly and watch as the water spirals easily down the drain. “Hey, you did it!”

Frankie braces a hand along the top of the cabinet and pulls himself to his feet. “Don’t sound so surprised,” he teases. “Told you I could do it.”

“My hero,” you say lightly, crossing the floor to kiss his smiling cheek. His scruff scrapes lightly against your face, and you find yourself lingering, especially when he captures your lips for a proper kiss. “Now I can wash some of this dirt off- I feel like I brought half the yard in.” After the hours you spent planting various shrubs and a few small fruit trees, your arms are streaked with dry soil.

“Here, let me help you.”

Frankie steps behind you, his broad form leaning against yours as you stand at the newly repaired sink. His thighs press lightly against your own as his arms encircle your waist. He leans his chin on your shoulder and his messy curls brush against your ear while he begins to run soap over your forearms. You laugh, his efforts mostly just splashing dirty water around, but the cool water is a welcome relief. “Frankie! I can do it myself.”

You can feel him smiling against your neck. “I know, I just- oh.” His voice turns suddenly soft, with a note of worry.

“What is it?”

“Baby, you hurt yourself.” He steps alongside you, examining the delicate skin of your inner arm with a concerned frown. “What happened?”

“What?” You look down and see a few thin, angry red lines streaking the length of your forearms. “Oh, it’s nothing. The blackberry branches were thorny, that’s all.” You’d been wearing one of Frankie’s flannels for a little extra protection, but it had grown too hot and you’d stripped down to just your t-shirt. “It’s fine, they’ll heal fast.”

Despite your reassurance, Frankie ducks into the bathroom while you pat your arms dry with a clean dish towel and comes back holding some ointment. “They’ll heal better with this.” He flips open the cap and looks up, seeking permission.

You nod, unwilling to deny him anything, especially with that melting brown gaze trained on you. It’s not necessary, but you have to admit- you love that he takes such good care of you. Frankie takes his time, gently stroking a dab of ointment over each small scratch. His light touch quickly takes the sting out of your small hurts, and when he’s finished you catch his hands, bring them up to your lips for a grateful kiss. You adore his hands- so much bigger than your own, strong and capable but still so deft. He ducks his head and smiles and your heart clenches with love for this quiet, loving man.

------- After changing out of your dirt-streaked jeans and into a clean sundress (which, of course, Frankie also offered to help with), you head back to the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge. The cold glass bottle begins beading almost at once, and you hold it against your slightly sunburnt neck. “I was going to go read in the yard for a bit, care to join me?”

“I’ve got a couple more things to finish up here, you go ahead.” Frankie drops a kiss to your temple as you pass, on your way to get a book and an old quilt to spread out on.

“Ok, see you in a bit.” The old screen door swings shut behind you, bouncing slightly before it catches the latch. A project for another day, you think. The two of you have already done plenty, and for now you just want to enjoy the rest of the sunny afternoon.

You spread your quilt out under a flowering magnolia tree which offers just the right amount of shade and lay down on your back. A light breeze stirs the green grass around you and sets the flowering tree branches swaying, a few pale pink petals raining down. Sunlight dapples your face as you relax, enjoying the surroundings of the garden you and Frankie are making together. The book is good, but you find yourself distracted, listening to nearby birdsong and watching billowing clouds scud across the bright blue sky. With the sun warm on your face, it’s not long before your eyelids are drooping.

-------

When you wake up, shadows are lengthening across the yard and Frankie is sprawled out next to you, having come out and dozed off at some point after you did. You lean into his shoulder, still warm from the heat of the sun, and smile against him. There’s a patch of skin just below his hairline and above his collar, and you lean in to kiss him just there. He tastes faintly of clean sweat and you press your tongue against him, seeking the slight taste of salt.

Frankie stirs and sleepily cracks one eye open. “Can I help you?” Try as he might to sound long-suffering, you suspect he enjoys your touch.

“Nope, I’m good.” You toss your book aside and drape yourself over his back, enjoying the slight movement below you as he shifts to accommodate you. It’s getting a little cooler now as the sun slips towards the horizon, but Frankie’s warm, solid presence grounds you. He tenses a little when you lean your head on his shoulder and you pull back at once. “Is your shoulder still bugging you?” He’d pulled it while you were moving and as hard as you try, you don’t always manage to wrest the heavier chores away from him, so it’s been a slow recovery process.

His answer rumbles quietly from below you. “A little. Working on the sink probably didn’t do it any favors.” You lean up at once, straddling his waist so you can massage his neck and shoulders. “Poor thing, you are tight here.”

He hums in agreement, though you can feel the tension begin to leak out of him as you knead his tense muscles. You work a stubborn knot, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder, and as he sighs you can feel him relax further.

You lean down once more, careful to put your weight on your hands, braced against the ground,  and drag your mouth lazily over his neck. Your seeking licks turning to more intent kisses and when your teeth close over his pulse point, Frankie lets out a low groan and bucks his hips. You feel the movement all through him, especially where you’re seated against his ass.

“You want me to stop?” You ask teasingly, getting the expected shake of his head in response. You grind slightly against him before returning to nose at his neck. By the time you trace the shell of his ear with your tongue and nip gently at the cartilage, Frankie has had enough.

He rolls the two of you over with a smooth motion that ends with you flat on your back, and him smiling above you. “Oh, are we done fooling around?” You look up playfully. “I can show you the blackberry bushes before-”

He stops your mouth with a kiss, nipping at your lower lip before licking his way into your mouth. Delight shivers through you and you deepen the kiss, your tongues tangling languidly. You run your hand through his tangled curls, scraping your nails against his scalp. This pulls a soft noise from low in Frankie’s throat as he leans into your touch. His nose brushes yours and he nudges your cheek, trails kisses down your jaw.

Heat is pooling low in your belly and you spread your legs to invite him closer. Frankie takes the hint, canting his hips to drag the growing bulge in his pants against your core while you push back into him. “We should head inside,” you gasp as he moves lower, sucking at the delicate skin of your neck.

“We can if you want, but who’s gonna see?” His large hands cup your breasts and he dips his head to brush kisses over their swells. You arch your back, desperate for his touch even as you look around cautiously. He has a point; there’s no neighbor on this side of the house, just a patch of woods, and you’re well back from the road.

“Good point.” You reach down to tug at the hem of his shirt. Grinning, he sits up for a moment to help you. As soon as he’s shirtless he gets straight back to the task at hand. Frankie’s fingers make quick work of the buttons running the length of your sundress and he pulls the fabric aside, exposing the creamy lace of your bra. Your stomach flips at the sweet, eager look on his face. You’ve been together so many times, but he always makes you feel special, cherished. Despite being outside, potentially exposed, you feel completely at ease in his arms.  

With a quick glance up to check that you’re ok with it, Frankie unclasps your bra and helps you shrug out of it. The air is slightly cooler now, but his warm, broad palms encompass your breasts before the chill can even register. You sigh as his thumb brushes your nipple, and downright shudder when he wraps his plush lips around the stiffening peak. Your legs are writhing almost of their own accord now as you grow desperate for more. “Frankie,” you groan, tugging at his hair.

You feel his lips curve into a smile and his tongue darts out to flick against you. It glides along your swollen bud and your pussy aches for more so you hitch your leg over his hip. Frankie grabs your thigh to hold you close and rolls his hips sinfully against you, drawing a desperate noise from deep in your throat. “You like that, baby?”

You nod frantically. “You know I do. You know it drives me crazy when you put your mouth on me.”

Frankie chuckles and sucks your nipple into his mouth, pulling much of your breast along with it. The tugging sensation sends a bolt of desire straight to your cunt and you whine. You seize his jaw and glare, your eyes blown with lust. “If you don’t touch me soon Francisco I swear I will go inside without you and finish the job myself.”

You’re all talk and Frankie knows it. “I am touching you, sweetheart,” he says innocently.

You give an irritated huff and seize his hand, directing him where you want it. His composure slips when his fingers brush the crotch of your panties, already soaked with your need. His gaze flicks to yours, a lovestruck look in his eyes as he asks softly, “is this all for me?”

Biting your lip you nod. “Yes. I need you Frankie, please .”

“Shh, I’ve got you baby.” Frankie hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and drags them over your legs. You kick them off, nearly sobbing in relief as he drags a single finger through your glistening folds.

Frankie closes his eyes reverently. “Shit honey, you weren’t kidding.” His finger comes away coated in your juices and he sucks it slowly before replacing the digit. He adds another finger, the pads slipping just inside your entrance to collect more of your slick before circling your clit. You tip your head back, grasping his shoulders as he gently fingers your slit. Just when you can’t take it, when you’re ready to beg for more, he pushes those fingers into you, stretching you out perfectly. Mewling, you buck your hips, chasing the feeling of him fucking you open.

“Mm, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“Never. Think you can take another?”

“Yeah.” Your answer comes as a breathless whine.

“Good girl.” Frankie adds a third finger and you swear it makes you see stars. He curls his fingers to stroke that spot deep inside and you find yourself skating the edge of your release. You’re so close, could so easily tip right over that edge, but it’s not until you hear Frankie murmur “come for me, beautiful” that you actually do. All that gorgeous tension he’s been winding up unspools in a rush of pleasure, your legs shaking and your hips bucking as he works you through it.

You’ve scarcely begun to come down before Frankie’s blazing a trail of kisses down your belly, his hands gently parting your thighs wider to settle between them, keen concentration suffusing his handsome face.

“Wait,” you breathe, catching his jaw with a deft hand.

Frankie draws back at once, concern creasing a furrow between his brows as he gazes up from between your legs. “Everything ok?”

You sit up, already nodding to reassure him as you draw him forward and kiss him deeply. “Everything’s perfect. I just want to come on your cock this time.”

Frankie looks down at you in amazement before pulling you into a crushing embrace. He tilts your chin up to give you a searing kiss, his arm wrapped around your waist. He leans his forehead against yours, his breath tickling your lips as he rasps “You’re perfect, you know that, right?”

You giggle, moved by the awestruck look on his face, and drop your hands to unbuckle his pants. He’s already barefoot, making it easier to push his pants down, followed by his boxers. You glance around again, reassuring yourself that the coast is clear. Clocking what you’re doing, Frankie chuckles. “Don’t worry, baby, we’re good.”

Smiling a little sheepishly, you nod. “I know. Just protecting your honor.”

Frankie begins to laugh softly but the sound is cut off by a hiss as you lick your palm and wrap it around his shaft. “F-fuck.” His eyes roll back in his head as you tighten your grip, working his cock. You brush your thumb over his weeping slit, collecting the pearly bead of precum glistening at the tip. “Now who’s being a t-tease?”

You look up at him innocently through your lashes. “I don’t know what you mean, Frankie.”

“Sure you don’t,” he huffs, his breathing already picking up. “C’mere, baby.” He pulls at your waist, encouraging you up into his lap.

You’re happy to oblige. With a few quick movements, you’re settled above him, his cock lined up with your entrance. Throwing your arms around his neck, you lower yourself slowly, taking him inch by inch. Frankie buries his face in the crook of your neck and meets you halfway, thrusting up to seat himself fully inside you. He always seems even bigger when you’re on top, and he gives you a moment to adjust to being so well-filled.

“You good?”

“You have no idea.”

He smiles at that, clearly pleased. “Then tell me,” he urges, kissing you just below your ear. “Tell me how much you like me stretching you out on this big dick.”

Your eyes flutter closed at this. He knows what dirty talk does to you, knows exactly when it will be the most devastating. “It feels so fucking good, baby,” you assure him. “You’re so thick and you hit so deep. I can’t get enough, want you even deeper. Please, Frankie.”

He sucks hard at your pulse point, his tongue laving your neck as he begins to thrust up into you. “Anything, baby. I will give you anything you ask for. You know that, right?”

Gasping, you nod quickly. “I know, love. I know.”

His fingers tangle in your hair, his strong arms bracing you as he fucks up into you. You match each thrust, grinding yourself on the base of his cock. The two of you find your rhythm and you lean back, allowing him to hit at an even deeper angle. Frankie leans forward, able to reach your breasts now. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, all wet heat and slick tongue moving against you. You whimper and arch your back, trusting him to support you.

He does.

Frankie’s eyes are screwed shut as he pounds into you, determined to take care of you before finding his own release. Your whimpering cries plateau and he can tell you’re not quite there yet. He rests his forehead against yours without missing a beat, opening his eyes to gaze into yours. “What do you need, baby?” He asks it softly, reverently, his large hands cradling your face as if you’re something holy. With him looking at you like this, you almost feel that way.

“Talk to me, Frankie,” you gasp. “Want to hear how much you like this.”

Your want pulls an answering moan from him. “God, you know I fucking love this. You’re so tight, and you take me so well, baby. I could pound this pretty pussy all day.” He snaps his hips, driving himself deeper inside you as if to prove his point.

Your breathing comes faster, your cunt clenching around him as his words drive you closer to your edge. “Fuck, yes, just like that. I’m so close, baby,” you whine.

Frankie cants his hips, hitting that devastating spot deep inside you. His voice is even huskier as he urges you onward. “You have no idea what hearing that does to me, sweet thing,” he pants, sweat dampening his hairline. He runs the back of his hand distractedly over his forehead. He’s not about to let go before you do and he leans in close, his warm breath ghosting against your ear. “ Come for me. I know you want to. I can feel you clenching around me so be my good girl and come for me, sweetheart . ”

And just like that, a wave of sweet pleasure rolls through you. You clutch his shoulders as the two of you ride it together, Frankie moaning against your lips as he finds his own release.

Your head drops to his shoulder, your limbs quivering as little aftershocks zip through them. Frankie holds your limp form easily, dropping lazy kisses over your face and hair while you drift back to the present. Finally, you draw back, a dazed smile tugging at your lips. You blow out a breath along with a tired, please laugh. “That was-”

Frankie chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, pleased to have pleased you. “I know, baby.” His kisses are easy, unhurried, and still make you feel nearly drunk with happiness as the two of you linger lazily in your afterglow.

By now, the sun is truly setting, the horizon taking on a purple hue as the first evening stars begin to appear. Even in Frankie’s arms, you start to shiver as the breeze whispers over your rapidly cooling skin. In a deft move, he tugs at the edge of the old quilt, rolling the two of you into it, creating a cocoon of private warmth. As the sky darkens and more stars appear, the two of you stay wrapped up in each other, making plans for your future in the peaceful space you’re creating together.

#Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Morales x You #Francisco Morales x F!Reader #Francisco Morales #Triple Frontier #Pedro Pascal #Fic #My fic #Reblogging to add to masterlist properly #Sundress Season

[i-donot-forget]

Eldarya Ep 7 (opinion)

Episode 7!!!! They gave us a nice ball, a nice dress and a nice moment with our LI (Discounting some details in the illustrations that I already mentioned before) the episode was very good, it is a clear transition, that little respite before everything goes wrong again.

Eldarya has always been a different otome, because the story does not revolve around the protagonist and her love story, it is about the protagonist saving the fucking world, the moments with our route have always been scarce and interrupted, remember that in TO until episode 17 we have the first date, from then on things go too fast and finally it cannot be said that we really got to know any of our romantic interests, an exception for Valkyon but I think it's obvious why. New Era has a great advantage, we already know these guys (except Mathieu but we have that connection of "hey we are both from earth"), we already know who they are, we already know this world, now falling in love will be "faster" than in a way it's good because we already saw that when Erika realizes that she feels something for someone, she goes after him (I love her for that, I couldn't ahahaha) and so we come to this episode, after the beautiful moment on the boat where we realize that we feel something for that special boy.

But this is Eldarya so...

the damn world is going to end again and Nevra is ready for war, I know it sounds ugly but I find it absolutely correct, if the earth is going to absorb Eldarya... They are lost, I cannot imagine any scenario in which the humans of the earth welcome all of Eldarya with open arms, that is, let's face it, how many countries are there where immigrants are a plague for a certain portion of the population? I'm not saying it's right or wrong, I'm just saying it's like that and with the Eldaryans it will be worse. People like Huang Hua, Huang Chu, might go unnoticed, but Koori??? Lance???? What will humans think when Chrome is in trouble and can't control himself with Earth's Moon, how are Nevra and Karenn going to live with Earth's Sun that is lethal to them??? I can only think it's going to be a disaster, besides, how does this "absorption" work? Will the portals get bigger and bigger until eldarya disappears? Will everything fall from the sky? because clearly earth will not be the most affected... Humans are dangerous, our history of clash between cultures is always to exterminate the unknown and in this case it will be fatal for both factions but if you ask me, humans are not going to become extinct...

With all of that in mind, I'm not surprised that Lance had his head elsewhere and forgot about his clothes... but hey, it was a funny moment that made me think that we still don't know the real Lance and that attitude is just the same one that Valkyon adopted after Lance's "death"...

The moment of meditation with Leiftan was painful… now I understand many things, and I believe that all his sufferings and the loss of his powers is something mental. All the confidence that Leiftan had in himself resided in his powers, in TO he was at the top, he was the most powerful being in Eldarya and he handled everyone like simple puppets, he was confident, capable of everything, the first time we saw him desperate was after losing half his life (for us), now in NE ufff he tells us, he feels vulnerable, helpless, incomplete, without identity, If everything you were was based on your strength and power, who are you without it? Despite everything, I think it started very well, Leiftan tells us the truth, for the first time he trusts something of the utmost importance in us, the fact that he is now defenseless implies many things, Lance remains on the guard because of his power and abilities which is very useful, the same could apply to Leiftan but without his powers he could believe that the HQ would not want him (although in TO nobody knew he was a daemon). He confides in us a secret that is vital to him, reveals his vulnerability and I must say that I love him too much, when he tells us that he feels exactly the same as we do when we talk to him about our powers, he finally opens up to us and then the hug melted my heart. Now that he no longer has (and cannot) protect us, our relationship will be different.

The ball, I am not surprised that Princess Koori organized a ball, Huang Hua's speech was extremely touching, my heart clenched when she mentioned those who had left, I couldn't help but think of Valkyon... Now is the time to dance and I am fascinated by how Erika takes the reins and invites her LI, here we part.

Mathieu: adorable nothing to say, I love them, his route is pure laughter and games and fun, I really like Mathieu, I did not trust him but their moments together are sooo sweet, we see him as the center of attention, something very about him but naturally, it does not attract attention forcibly, they really are standing out for what they are, everything is very nice, a great dance, I think that at the point where they left the scene, I would believe in a kiss, not passionate or anything but a first kiss all cute, nervous and natural.

Nevra: I love that he's waiting for us, I think they already act like boyfriend and girlfriend without wanting to say it hahahaha and I love him, Nevra want us and loves us, he doesn't say it but he shows it only with his actions, I still feel like he's going to scare at the key moment, I feel that he keeps many things that explode in that uncompromising anger, I wait for a very intimate moment between them that makes me cry I want to see him cry, I know he needs it, I know he needs Erika to hug him and tell him that everything it will be fine, he needs someone to be the strong one.

Lance: the moment is very nice I cannot deny it, it is beautiful, Lance's reaction to Erika's invitation is great and again I love her determination, it struck me that Lance does know how to dance, but an old-fashioned dance, that just means that In his previous time in the guard of eel he did dance, I always imagined him as the popular cool boy that everyone follows, I'm still waiting to see that, I already want to break that shell and get the real Lance out.

Leiftan: Ahhhh my beautiful baby I leave him at the end because it is my route and I love him and I can't help but fangirl very hard for him. Erika dragging him to the dance floor imitating Karenn, I loved it, Erika helping Leiftan with his confidence and security, I super loved it, the inevitable attraction between them that is so strong that the moment screams that they will kiss, I cannot express my emotion, I love him I can't stop loving him and I just want they to be alone to see the damn connection in all its glory 7u7

So I wait for the catastrophe in the next episode, I still don't know if it will be a portal opening in the middle of the crystal room or if it will be the crystal itself that does something idk, surprise me beemoov

#eldarya #eldarya new era #eldarya episode 7 #beemoov #eldarya lance #eldarya leiftan #eldarya nevra #eldarya mathieu

[anaveragebibliophile]

Impossible

Carlisle Cullen x OC

Summary: Carlisle and his mate Eloise receive some shocking news that they weren’t necessarily prepared to deal with regarding her health. Instead of seeing what’s right in front of him, Carlisle believes that his wife’s health issues are stemming from other avenues. It isn’t until his wife makes a discovery that he alters his course of action. 

Note: This is a deviation from what I normally post, but I hope that all of you will take the chance and give it a read. :) 

“I can’t even believe this is happening again. And with your wife of all people!” Jacob Black shouted as he walked into the Cullen family’s wide, contemporary kitchen. 

“Jacob, we’ve discussed this. Eloise isn’t like us. She isn’t a vampire, she’s a phoenix. As such, she’s capable of resurrecting the dead, the broken, the ill-equipped parts of us that are theoretically unsalvageable. And as things stand, we all know I’m infertile. Or that I was.” Carlisle explained. “Believe me, I’m just as overwhelmed as you are. Even more so because I’m still struggling to accept the fact that I helped someone--the woman I adore more than anything else on this earth--procreate.”

And it’s not like the couple had been trying either. Quite the opposite actually. Sure, both of them had done ample amounts of research--through legends and the like--to determine whether or not they would need to take precautions before having intercourse. From what little they could find, it appeared that exercising the freedom of caution was the best choice. Not only had pregnancies been reported, multiple births seemed to be a common occurrence. And even though Carlisle was reluctant to put his faith into these infinitesimal references, he still did what any self-respecting man would do: He made sure his strong, confident wife made the final decision about what she wanted to do. At the end of the day, her body would have been doing the brunt of the work had a pregnancy occurred. 

Eloise thought long and hard about this and would even go so far as to test herself. Did she want a child? Yes. Would she be a genuinely good mother? She hoped so. But the ultimate question remained: did she want a child with Carlisle? More than anything else in the world. However, it just didn’t seem like the right time. The pack was going through organizational disputes, the Volturi were still trying to find ways to get her and Alice to join their coven, and Bella and Edward were in the process of adopting a child. There was just too much happening around her for that to work out. Or so she thought at that moment. 

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About two months later, she started feeling a bit off-kilter. She was suffering from myriad migraine headaches, her stomach always seemed to be queasy, and she was dealing with some intense bouts of insomnia (which she had never experienced as a child or even during her adult life). Her husband was increasingly worried about her. So much so that he would have her in his office every day for testing. At that point, he was looking for a dormant autoimmune disease, cancer, anything that would highlight these symptoms. What he wasn’t looking for was a pregnancy, a fertilized egg within his wife. 

One night, while the rest of the family was out hunting, Eloise and Carlisle were cuddling on the couch, her head in his lap. He was running his long, cool fingers through her hair and down her back, intermittently trying to coax her into eating a small piece of toast that he’d made for her. Yet every attempt didn’t do much. Regardless, he was hoping she would get her appetite back soon because her skin had started to take on a translucent pallor that he despised. 

“Come on, honey, just one bite. That’s all I’m asking for,” Carlisle said, putting the plate in front of her face. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m just not hungry. The entire idea of food is revolting. Plus, I don’t really want to repeat what happened a few hours ago.” Carlisle hummed in understanding. While he knew that Eloise was being sincere, he wasn’t pleased that she was still feeling so fatigued and nauseated. 

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A few hours ago, as he was attending to a broken rib of Seth’s at the reservation, he received a call from Alice. ‘Eloise has been throwing up for the last forty minutes, Carlisle. She didn’t want to worry you,’ she’d started. ‘But you need to get back here now. I’ve been sitting with her, and I’m worried she’s getting dehydrated.’ Heart in his throat, he quickly finished his session with Seth, letting him know that he had an emergency that he needed to attend to. 

After parking the car, he ran into the house, heading straight for his and Eloise’s bedroom. And when he walking into the adjoining bathroom, he was shocked by what he saw: his wife, her cheek smashed against the toilet seat, breathing heavily in order to avoid another onset of nausea. In his peripheral, he saw Alice lightly rubbing Eloise’s back with her left hand and murmuring comforting words to her. 

Instinctively, Carlisle  moved towards his wife and took Alice’s place as the caretaker. “Hi, sweetheart. Alice called and said you weren’t feeling well. Can you tell me what’s been bothering you?” he asked, gently kneading the taut muscles in her lean back. 

Eloise slowly pulled her face away from the toilet bowl and looked at him blearily. “My stomach just isn’t feeling super fantastic at the moment. I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to keep anything down. I haven’t been able to since about two o’clock this afternoon.”

“Well, you haven’t been at your best recently. Do you think that may have something to do with it?”

“Perhaps. But I haven’t had this happen before. Yes, I’ve experienced nausea and some stomach cramping, but it never ended with me vomiting for hours on end.”

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And that was what still puzzled Carlisle in this moment. Why was this happening to her when nothing was physically wrong? She didn’t have AGID nor was there any evidence of malignant tumor growth. She wasn’t running a fever nor was she displaying any signs of infection. So what could it be? He was determined to find out. 

He lightly ran the pad of his right thumb over Eloise’s cheek. “Sweet girl, I think it’s time that I do an ultrasound on your stomach. Maybe that will give us some answers. What do you say?” 

“Alright. You’ll probably have to carry me though. I haven’t been doing well vertically,” she said, slightly smiling. 

“Your wish is my command.” 

He proceeded to carefully--oh, so carefully--move her head off his lap and onto a pillow (as a replacement). Then, when he was completely erect, he swiftly leaned forward and placed his forearms underneath Eloise’s lumbar vertebrae and upper thighs. Once she was secured in his arms, he gently kissed her cheek and proceeded to move them into his office, the one room in the house both of them have grown to resent. 

Placing her on the exam table, he grazed his hand through her bangs in the hope of soothing the anxiety that was coursing through her. “It’ll be alright. You know I would never hurt you. Never.”

“I know. It’s not that. I just don’t want anything to be wrong. I want to be healthy,” she said, her voice on the verge of breaking. 

“You will be. I’ll make sure of it,” Carlisle responds as he pressed his forehead against hers. 

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Eloise smiled wanly as her husband went through his check-up regimen: ears, eyes, nose, throat, body temperature, blood pressure, then reflexes. While she may complain every now and then about his overprotectiveness, she really does feel so grateful and lucky to be married to a man whose compassion and kindness are limitless. This man always makes her feel valued, appreciated, and heard, especially apart from the rest of the world. And these are things that will never go unnoticed by her. He will never go unnoticed by her. 

“How are things looking, Doctor Cullen?” she asked. “Am I passing inspection?”

Carlisle lightly laughed at her attempt at a joke. “So far things are looking good. I think we’re about ready to do the abdominal ultrasound and see what things are looking like down there.”

He moved over to his white, sterile metal cart that held the handheld ultrasound. The plan was for Carlisle to put the clear lubricant on her belly, place the ultrasound on it, and then wait for the image to connect to the screen to his right. From there, he’ll see if there are any obstructions or issues. 

“Are you ready, honey?” he asked. “If it’s too cold, just let me know.” 

Eloise held her two thumbs up. “I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

The exam began. For a period of time, the sound and echo waves were all they could hear. Eloise was holding her breath. Carlisle’s face was pinched, his eyes and ears hyper-focused on the task. Until the heartbeat-like echo struck back at them. 

His wife lifted her hand to stop him from continuing with the examination. “What was that?” she queried. 

“I don’t know, darling. I don’t know.” he said. “Let’s try again and see if we get the same feedback.”

He continued his inspection but still received the same results. The heartbeat was unlike any he heard before (besides his wife’s): strong, pure, yet calm in its essence. Before he could ponder any other reasonings behind this strange occurrence, Eloise interrupted him. “Carlisle, we both know that’s a heartbeat. You can question it and try to find other avenues to follow, but you know the truth. And a heartbeat can only mean one thing,” she smiled, so big that her dimples were more pronounced than ever before. “We’re pregnant. My magic enabled us to create a baby.”

He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “We don’t know that.”

“But we do. Carlisle, all the signs have been pretty prevalent these last few weeks. I just never thought to associate them with pregnancy because we agreed we would wait to start trying. I guess the universe had other plans.” 

“Eloise, honey…”

“You know it’s true. I do because I can feel our child. Now, after all this time, he or she has decided to make their presence known. The energy I feel--the positivity and contentment I’m now carrying in this moment--is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.” 

Carlisle looked at her, stunned. If she can feel their child, how could he dispute that? How could he challenge what she (and he) knew to be true in all its unlikelihood? It wasn’t like this was entirely impossible, especially after reading about other couples’ experiences. Couples like them. 

Eloise took his moment of consideration to move his hand to her tummy. “I know it’s hard to come to terms with right now because we weren’t sure how true the reports were, but I think it’s time we start believing in them. Carlisle, you’re going to be a father, and I’m going to be a mother. We’re going to finally have the opportunity to expand our family.” 

Hearing those words made Carlisle outright grin. They had been waiting for this moment for so long that he never believed it would ever actually happen. But now, he has everything he could ever want in the palm of his hand. 

“Well, it would appear that way,” he said, leaning over his wife to give her a heart-stopping kiss. “And I must add that I’m excruciatingly happy. Thank you, sweetheart.” 

#twilight #newmoon #eclipse #breaking dawn #pregnancy #phoenix #vampire #carlisle cullen #carlisle x reader #bella swan #edward cullen #jacob black #wolves #alice cullen #love #marriage #romance #babies