#you would hated la one coin

[4ssdestroyer5000]

Yesterday was her birthday, say happy birthday to the pretty lady🎈🎈🎈

I'm in love with the birthday girl♥️♥️♥️

#postal dude #birthday girl #yayyy #vore and mpreg of homestuck #happy birthday dude. #you would hated la one coin #leave her alone #she is my wife #she is so hot #I'm the gift

[imaginesheaven]

GN!Reader x Valeria Garza – sibling’s love

Synopsis: Valeria has her Las Almas Cartel. You are one of the Los Vaqueros. Unfortunately, the two of you are twins. So, one day when TF 141 comes to arrest El Sin Nombre, you are confronted with your own family. It will be a hell of a ride to tell your mother, when both of you visit her for dinner together.

Here, something quick I wrote because I couldn't get it out of my head *haha* Please, let me know if you enjoyed it :)

Callsign: Doberman

Warnings: Swearing; violence

Length: ~1.5k

It wasn’t really a pleasant situation how you found out that Valeria – your own fucking twin – is the leader of the Las Almas cartel. Alejandro and Rudy had a long conversation who is actually going to tell you in person, because they knew you would be mad. In the end they just flipped a coin. Alejandro lost unfortunately. It’s an understatement that you were fuming with anger.

“VALERIA!”, you burst into the conversation between Graves and your sister. “You two know each other?”, Phillip looks at you with dislike since you interrupted him. “Ah, we are even closer than that. Same bloodline, eh?”, Valeria winks at you.

Alejandro and Rudy have a hard time to hold you back as you curse a whole lexicon of Spanish swear words over her. “That’s how you greet your long-lost twin, (Y/N)?”, she still knows how to push your buttons. Such a sibling thing of her.

“You disgrace our family. Father would turn around in shame in his grave because of you, pendejo”, you reply playing the same game she does. Valeria leans forward now the one who swears in Spanish; ready to pounce any second.

Graves puts his hand on her shoulder to keep her in the chair. “Get your fucking hand of her, gringo!”, you yell at Graves hating him from the second you first saw him. Valeria leans back in her seat. Something like proud shines in her eyes, “See? Don’t fuck with my little Doberman. I’m well protected.”

For a second your hand curls around the handgun by your side, then you raise your hands in a defensive gesture, “Tell them what you know, Valeria.” With that you turn around to leave before your short fuse will blow up finally.

“Fine, I will. We see each other Thursday for dinner at Mother’s place~”, she yells so you still can hear her words. You don’t turn around or stop. This is going to be the worst week of your whole damn life.

Valeria called you her little Doberman for most of your life, since you were always there to protect her. She is actually the older one for about a minute, but you took your task of keeping your twin safe very seriously. Both of you are very dangerous soldiers. Back when you served together side by side, you were a dream team. Until the day she betrayed you and the army.

Valeria would never admit it out loud that she actually missed having you by her side. She is also a bit jealous how Alejandro and Rudy held you back. It’s like they are your family now. Well, she can understand it after what she has done.

After Graves’ betrayal you didn’t want to be on the team with Alejandro and Gaz to secure Valeria. But what can you say? She is still family. You hate how proud and confident she looks as you put her into the car to bring her to the next prison. “I will be free in 24 hours”, Valeria smiles at you innocently. Both of you know that she tells the truth.

Thursday arrived. You hoped with all you have that Valeria would not be at the dinner with your mother, but no one heard your silent prayers. Your mother opens the door more than happy to see you alive and in one piece, “Come in!”

There she is; sitting at her old place at the dinning table with a glass of wine in her hand. Valeria opens her mouth to greet you, but you raise your hand to stop her right away, “Don’t talk to me, pendejo.”

“What are those manners, (Y/N)?!”, your mother puts her hand onto her chest. “Yes, my little Doberman. Why did you arrest me?”, Valeria smirks knowing exactly how to turn a little flame into a breaching fire. Family is the highest priority for your mother.

“You are fucking El Sin Nombre! I’m militaria! I can’t let you go because we are family!”, you sit down opposite of Valeria. Your mother watches the two of you with furrowed eyebrows, “You arrested Valeria? And you are the cartel leader? Dios mio!”

Your sister leans forward to emphasize her statement, “I just do what it needs to protect you two!” For a second you can see the old Valeria sitting there. “You almost shot me last week”, a slight smirk appears on your lips.

Your mother gasps loudly, “VALERIA! THIS IS YOUR FAMILY!” Your twin rolls her eyes annoyed, “I did miss, right? If I wanted to shoot you, I would have done it.” Laughing you grab the wine bottle from the table, “You were never as good at shooting as me, Val. A few things will never change apparently.”

In the same moment both of you put your handguns onto the table, showing each other no mercy. Just like the fucking old times. Neither of you would hesitate for a second to pull the trigger. It has always been like that.

“NO HANDGUNS ON THE TABLE!!”, your mother yells through the entire room. Both of you flinch with the intensity she still rules the house. “Sorry, mother”, you mumble under your breath and holster your gun quickly. Valeria does the same without any apology just like always. There only two or three things she is actually sorry about.

“If you are going to kill each other, at least after eating! I cooked all day long for you”, your mother shuffles into the kitchen.

Valeria and you keep shooting each other death glares over your plates. When your mother doesn’t look you kick each other underneath the table. Neither of you is going to back down like a true Doberman.

The rest of the dinner actually runs way smoother than thought. Of course, both of you help your mother with the dishes. Your mother puts on her favorite record as she swells in the happiness to have you both back safely.

“You missed a spot”, Valeria exclaims and points her finger at the plate in your hand. “Shut up, it’s clean!”, you still try to suppress your anger at her, but she keeps pushing you. Probably hoping to find your breaking point.

“I will tell Mom that it’s not clean”, she grins at you. Without a word you slap her hand hard so she lets go of the plate. It shatters on the floor into thousand pieces. “MOM! VALERIA BROKE ONE OF THE PLATES!”, you return the winning smile at her.

“No! I didn’t! You did that!”, Valeria tries to explain as your mother comes into the kitchen to find the mess on the floor. “Dios mio! Those are the good plates, Valeria”, she leans down to pick up the shards. Smirking you flip Valeria off with your soapy hands. Of course, behind the back of your mother. She would get a heart attack for sure.

Your twin rolls her eyes annoyed and throws the wet rag into your direction. “No fighting in the house, you two! You can beat each other outside. Do what you have to do to get out your anger”, your mother shushes both of you out of the kitchen. Valeria takes her chance to trip you on the way towards the front door.

“FUCKING HELL! You make me go haywire!”, you raise your hand to smack her square in the face. Suddenly your mother grabs your ear and Valeria’s to bring you down onto her level. She will always have enough strength left to lecture you two.

“I want you to get things right. Like I said: fight, shoot or whatever. I don’t care, but no killing each other. I will see both of you next Thursday to dinner again, comprende?”, she releases both of you with a slight smile on her lips, “Great! Have a nice evening. Love you!”

Without a further word you stumble outside with Valeria right behind you. For a moment you stare at each other, ready to blame the other one for this mess. Valeria starts first to laugh and you can’t help but join her.

“Well, that was fun. See you next Thursday, my little Doberman!”, she makes her way towards the black car that waits already for her. You don’t want to admit it, but you kind of look forward to it.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #valeria mw2 #valeria garza #valeria cod #valeria x reader #valeria x you #gender neutral reader #gn reader #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x you #siblings #cod headcanons #cod hcs #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra

[blacknedsoul-blog]

Annabel Lee Whitlock: The Hypocrite, the Vampire and the Femme Fatale. A review of archetypes

Good news: I'm on vacation. Bad news: I'm on vacation.

And that means rest. A positive externality. But on the other hand, it also means that my brain, which is constantly thirsting for stimulation, has lost eight hours of activity a day that it has to fill with something. You know what happens to orange tabbies who suddenly become quiet and behave as if possessed by all the demons of Ars Goetia? Well, sort of.

So my brain in need of stimulation decided to dust off my college notes and talk about archetypes, because it's a thorough enough job to keep me away from climbing walls or checking random stuff on the Internet for 10 hours a day.

What is an archetype?

Just to make sure we're all on the same page, an archetype (a "type character") is a writing model that describes a role and has certain characteristics.

The term was coined by Honoré de Balzac, a French writer obsessed with what he called "micro-history. His life's work, "La Comédie humaine", is a massive collection of more than 80 novels, which, when read, will give you more information about that historical period than any theoretical book on the subject.

You may not know this sir or the protagonist of "Illusions perdues", but you do know the archetype that Lucien Rumempré represents: a young from the provinces, full of dreams, who moves to the city only to discover that the lights are there to dazzle and distract from the misery.

But at the same time, the characters that come to mind are likely to be very different from the good Lucien. This is because the archetype is a different construct from the cliché.

If I had to explain the difference, I would say that the cliché is a recipe, while the archetype is a mold.

If you follow a recipe, you will always get results that are very similar, even if you make small variations in the recipe. But if you have a star cookie cutter, the contents of the cookies can be quite different: no one would dare say that a chocolate chip cookie tastes the same as an oatmeal cookie or a gingerbread cookie. Even if all three are cut in the shape of a star.

So I'm going to do a little review of the archetypes that Annabel notices. The differences, the similarities, and let's see what comes out.

The Hypocrite

Not "hypocrite" in the sense of a personality, but in the sense of a way of behaving in the world: The Hypocrite is a character whose way of relating to the world is a pantomime, whose role is to build themselves up to fit into a system (which, by the way, they despise). If they don't have what you want, they will at least pretend enough to make you think they do. Usually for personal gain.

The founder of this archetype is Julien Sorel, the protagonist of "Le Rogue et Le Noir", the most famous work of Stendhal, one of the most prominent writers of the literary realism founded by Balzac.

Julien is this poor boy, but smart enough to memorize the Bible, which makes him seem educated enough to get him a job as a tutor in a rich house, and eventually a priest's cassock.

A more modern example is Nick Wilde from Zootopia. This fox has decided that if he alone can be a con man, he will be one, though he desperately wants someone to see him as an individual beyond that. He hates the system that condemns him, but he wants to be a part of it and will play by the rules he is given in order to profit.

Annabel, like Julien and Nick, has built her entire identity around being what is expected of her, in her case a perfect Victorian high society lady. Something that has given her a tremendous amount of knowledge about how people move in such circles. And from her point of view, people are the same everywhere (Miss Marple would be proud of her).

And in this oppressive context that fosters an environment where people kill each other, she knows what currency to give in return for loyalty: people will look for a leader, someone competent, someone who knows what they're doing.

Annabel has no idea what's going on, what awaits them outside the Nevermore gate, or even if there's a way to escape. But she can pretend to know. The quietest person in the room wins, and she's the one who takes the prizes to achieve her goal. The performance is justified as a means to an end.

Another thing that characterizes stories with a Hypocrite as a relevant character is the exploration of the consequences of this lifestyle: identity is consumed by the role, the line between actor and character is lost, and the Hypocrite is often faced with the reality that they have put so much of themselves into the character they are playing that once it is exposed, there is nothing underneath, or at least nothing worth saving.

In Annabel's case, this is expressed in her utter horror at not being trusted by Lenore. She puts her hypocrisy at the disposal of her lover and comforts herself with the reward of her affection, but Lenore's love for her is the only thread that binds her own identity: that Lenore does not trust her means that the role has completely consumed her, the complete confirmation that she, as an individual, is no longer a disturbed poseur.

Related to this point, we have the final transversal line in the conflicts that Hypocrites tend to have: loneliness. When all their relationships are based on a carefully rehearsed performance, the Hypocrite knows that they are alone in the world, that no one really knows them, and they are usually so deep in the role by this point that they don't want to (or can't) leave it. The longing for honest relationships overlaps with their self-destructive tendencies.

As much as Annabel insists that it's her and Lenore against the world, that her life is meaningless without Lenore, and that she is enough, these phrases indicate that Annabel is painfully aware of how she is perceived by others, and though she tells herself that Lenore's love is all she needs, it seems more like a mantra to keep her sane than a reality.

As you may have noticed, the main difference from the usual Hypocrite is that Annabel has Lenore. A bit like Nick has Judy. But Nevermore is a story that takes the psychology of its characters much more seriously, so while Nick just needs someone to reach out to in order to form honest relationships, Annabel passes because she has no fucking idea how to form an honest, healthy bond.

That Annabel is extraordinarily self-destructive, emotionally dependent, and so afraid to step outside the box she knows so well are, in this light, natural consequences of the Hypocrite lifestyle.

The Vampire

Here we must make a leap to another movement: during the Romantic period, the Gothic novel was at its best, and it was Edgar Allan Poe who squeezed out the last drops of what this genre had to offer.

Now, looking at the bibliography, Annabel does not have much in common with the gothic heroine (that is something Lenore takes care of), neither on an aesthetic level nor on a value level. To find her in the works that inspire her, one must look in a slightly different direction: the female vampires of gothic fiction.

Aurelia ("Vampirismus" by E.T.A. Hoffmann), Carmilla ("Carmilla" by Sheridan Le Fanu), Clarimonde ("The death woman in love" by Théophile Gautier), the vampire in the poem "The Metamorphosis of the Vampire" by Baudelaire, the three vampire women, and Lucy ("Dracula" by Bram Stoker).

All these characters have something more in common than their fangs: they are beautiful women capable of making anyone who sees them fall completely into their arms, as opposed to their role of making the one they have chosen as their prey "fall".

The Gothic vampire is practically a succubus, but much less sexualized than one might think. Although many of these works, with the exception of the poem by the good Baudelaire (an author who should be fed separately on these matters), spare no pages in describing how beautiful they are, neither do they overly sexualize them, nor are they particularly flirtatious: even Clarimonde is dedicated to simply being there and letting her presence alone do the work.

This is something Annabel shares with the gothic vampire: though physically gorgeous, the framing in the comic doesn't tend to focus on her as an object of sexual desire, her beauty is highlighted, but in a way that is more akin to an ethereal or unattainable entity.

This is due to a mixture of two things: the Gothic novel is steeped in Catholic puritanism, and even if it is to present a villain who uses her attractiveness as a weapon, the erotic component is subtly exposed, and the vampire's angelic beauty offers a contrast to her status as an antagonist: beautiful on the outside, insidious on the inside.

This is another thing Annabel has in common with the gothic vampire: she is aware that her appearance gives her a haughty, elegant, and dignified air, identifiable enough to earn nicknames like "Queen" or "Queenie," and she knows how to capitalize on it. This contrasts with the darker parts of her personality.

Another thing that terrifies romantics about vampires is that these fangirl succubi possess a quality that makes us 21st-century readers raise an eyebrow because it's supposed to make us uncomfortable: a deep, honest, and sincere willingness to be affectionate.

In context, this makes sense: the vampire is a representation of sin, temptation, and lust. So their affection is something that leads the object of it away from the path of morality (this is the 19th century, this is really important).

I understand that because of the vampire's role in all of this, she is a devoted lover. Incredibly devoted, in fact: Clarimonde is Romuald's sugar mommy (no, I'm not kidding, I'm not exaggerating either), and Carmilla never stops showering Laura with affection and attention, satisfying this girl's craving for companionship after living in isolation.

Annabel does something similar: there is a genuine interest on her part to reach out and connect with Lenore, and in scenes like this, she goes out of her way to show her that she is an amazing person in her own right, rather than being her brother's shadow.

All kidding aside, I think of the archetypes I could find to analyze Annabel, this is the one that fits her best, even though she is not, well, literally a vampire. She seems to have several things in common with Carmilla in particular.

The Femme Fatale

We all have a more or less clear idea of what a femme fatale is: this extremely attractive, sexually active, badass woman who is there to make the male character's life miserable and has a 50% chance of smoking fine cigarettes with a cigarette holder. This is…partially true, but also highly inaccurate.

Although these characters can be traced back much further in mythology, this archetype gets its name and very specific form from Raymond Chandler, the founder of the noir novel. I'm not going to go into too much detail on this topic, as entire books could be written about it, so let's just focus on what's important.

The thing to understand about the context to understand the Femme Fatale is that we are in the 30-40's and although she has many more rights than 19th century women, the decadence shown in these works emphasizes that she is in a macho context where every single rule of the game is stacked against her. This is something that Femme Fatale is acutely aware of: no matter how well she plays the game, she will always lose.

This is something that Annabel shares with this archetype: she is very aware of the rules of the game, she knows backwards and forwards how the world works, so she is also aware that they are too heavily stacked against her to ever win. All she can do is resign herself, play the role as best she can, and find small distractions to cling to like a burning nail so as not to lose her head altogether.

Therefore, the Femme Fatale's approach to life is this: if the rules are stacked against her, that means she has the right to do whatever it takes to survive. These tactics usually include manipulation, deception, exploitation, and, of course, making the most of her sexual attractiveness because, unlike the vampire, she knows how to flirt and use sex as a weapon. What needs to be kept in mind here is that for this character archetype, the use of these wiles comes not because she is factory evil, but as a coping mechanism within a system she cannot win against. If this ultimately makes her a villain, it's more about her role within the story in which it plays out than anything about the archetype itself.

Here's an interesting difference between the Annabel we see in Lenore's memories and the one we see in the present day of the comic: Annabel used to be willing to play by the rules, but the thing she learned from Lenore is that cheating is more than possible. As a result, her attitude has become much closer to that of a Femme Fatale, using her extensive knowledge of the rules to her advantage, going with the flow for personal gain. Her methods are much closer to those of the Hypocrite (especially since we haven't seen Annabel use her body or affection as currency yet), but there are definitely similarities.

Another thing about the Femme Fatale (when she is NOT a villain) is that, like the Vampire, she operates within a duality: an exterior built to be sexy in a somewhat intimidating way (which is why the aesthetics of many of these characters can be interpreted within BDSM culture), but with some goodness in her heart. A really clear example of this is Vivian Sternwood from The Big Sleep (the first novel on the subject published by Raymond Chandler): her own father describes her as "rude, demanding, clever, and quite ruthless," and Marlow, our detective, will have a long series of uncomfortable encounters with her. But by the end of the novel, when he is faced with the same choice Vivian must have made in the past, he cannot help but realize that despite everything, this woman would rather keep painful secrets than harm her family, whom she loves dearly.

So if you're wondering why the framing of scenes like this looks familiar, that's why.

Add to that the three layers of how her aesthetic works: an angelic appearance for when she needs to play dumb, her gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlboss bullshit face for when she needs to demonstrate authority, and framing where it should make you directly uncomfortable.

Looks are one of the strengths of Femmel Fatale's performance. And it's one of the strengths of Annabel's performance.

Conclusions

One interesting thing about looking at Annabel in this light is to realize two things: first, that many of the archetypes her character seems to take notes from are often in the role of antagonists or, for that matter, villains. 

The other is that these archetypes are quite well ordered and connected: the gothic vampire is the inspiration for the Femme Fatale of Noir (her beta version, if you can call it that), and the Hypocrite shares a historical writing period with many female vampires. From her conception, Annabel is constructed in a fairly orderly fashion, and believe me, that's a huge contrast to what's going to happen with Lenore (which I'll get to soon, but I need to brush up on my picaresque novel notes). 

The last thing I want to point out in this review is this: unless you're a Nick Wilde-style Hypocrite, Hypocrites and Vampires in general tend to have utter destruction in store for them. The Noir, for its part, puts us in a situation where the Femme Fatale, even if she wants to change, is generally too deep in this tangle to get out. 

So what I find interesting about Annabel in this regard is:

This is actually THE scene that shows us Annabel timidly stepping out of the scheme of things. She doesn't seem to want to change, in fact I'd bet she's terrified to change, but even though she's repeating her father's toxic pattern here, she's also breaking it without realizing it. 

It's too early to tell if we'll see Annabel have some sort of redemption towards less harmful behavior, or if we'll end up seeing her become a villain altogether. But I'm really curious to see where this story goes with all of these elements.

#nevermore webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #annabel lee whitlock #So this is about 3000 words long #I want to die #Spoiler with Lenore we'll talk about rogues knights and womens with tuberculosis #femme fatale #hypocrite #vampire

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Be not inhospitable to strangers lest they be angels in disguise.

- W.B. Yeats

This is the quote from W.B. Yeats as a painted sign on the wall as you enter the famous bookstore Shakespeare and Company in Paris.

Strangers always found a welcome at Shakespeare and Company, where they could browse untroubled for hours, especially if they were aspiring writers themselves; and a few – well, a very few – of them may indeed have turned out to be angels, or at least angelic.

The original Shakespeare and Company shop was started in 1921 in the Rue de l’Odéon by Sylvia Beach, the daughter of a US Presbyterian minister. The first writer to patronise the shop was Gertrude Stein, but she fell out with Beach when she took up with James Joyce, whom Stein hated.

Beach published Joyce’s Ulysses when no established publisher would touch it, performing the arduous labour of love of proofreading it. Ernest Hemingway discovered the shop soon after his arrival in Paris, and wrote about it lovingly decades later in A Moveable Feast. When the Germans occupied Paris, Beach refused to sell a signed copy of Finnegans Wake to an invading officer. He said he would return for it the next day. So she moved all the books out and closed the shop. It was “liberated” by Hemingway himself in 1944. However, Beach didn’t have the heart to start again.

In 1948, after a wandering youth and war service, George Whitman came to Paris on the GI Bill, and in 1951 opened an English-language bookshop which he called Le Mistral. A few years later, he moved to the Rue de la Bûcherie, but didn’t rename the shop until after Beach’s death in 1961. He had been too shy to ask her if he could use the name, although they were friends and she used to come to readings at Le Mistral.

Whitman ran his shop as a species of anarchic democracy, even though in some respects he was a benevolent dictator. Anyone who called himself a writer could find a bed there, if there was one free, and stay as long as he liked or until Whitman got tired of him. The only rule for residents was that they must read a book a day and serve in the shop for an hour. One poet, or self-styled poet, who broke the second rule and lay in bed all day reading detective novels was ejected; but his chief offence was his choice of literature rather than his idleness.

The bookshop has its regulars, residents in Paris, not all of them English-speakers by any means, who use it as a sort of club and drop in for conversation and coffee.

Stock control has always been on the casual side. It’s not unknown for someone to lift a book from the shelves, slip it into his pocket, read it and return to sell it for the secondhand shelves the following day.

Inevitably, Shakespeare and Company has long been on the tourist trail, recommended in all the guides. This is just as well, because without their custom it’s hard to see how the shop could have survived. Many are in search of a copy of A Moveable Feast. This is not always on offer because, for some reason which I can’t remember, Whitman took a scunner to Hemingway. The tourists also toss coins into the well in the shop, and it’s not unusual to see an indigent young person lying on the floor and fishing for euros.

On occasion I drop in because the lure of its history is too much even if there are other good independent book stores nearby. Visitors to Paris always want me to take them there and I oblige them even if I feel its lost some of its past glory. Still, I always buy a few books because it’s the best way to support independent book stores in this age of Amazon, as every independent book store needs all the help it can get.

#yeats #wb yeats #quote #shakespeare and co #shakespeare and company #paris #book store #books #reading #historic #literature #sylvia beach #george whitman

[babygirl-riley]

Part IV

Ghost, Soap, and you meet up with Alejandro near a market. And talk with Valeria

Warnings: violance, flirting, negotiations, swearing

Ghostly Ruins

simon x reader guide

Previous Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🐈‍⬛💀~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood near a fruit stand, fresh fruit it read as you handed some pesos to the older lady. You grabbed a peach, one of your favorites, taking a bite out of it. “This is Bravo 0-9,” You said swallowing the peach down. “I am in position.”

“You eatin’ love?” Ghost’s voice said through the comm.

“A peach.” You responded taking another bite.

Soap chuckled through it. “Swear lass you can find food anywhere.”

You shrug walking away from the stand. “It’s fresh and an old lady gotta get something.”

“There is only one peach I would love to eat.” Ghost teased, your eyes widened.

“Woah.” Soap choked.

“Ghost,” You hissed. “Not over the comms.”

“S’rry love.” Ghost said with amusement behind his voice.

“Thu na coin olc.” Soap mumbled.

“English.” Ghost said annoyed, you could see his eyes rolling.

“Both of ya are nasty.”

You chuckled as you walked around looking out of Alejandro. Unfortunately the cartel are more on high alert the last couple of months, due to capture Valeria the first time. Anyone could be watching, even children is what was told. Them being little street rats gossiping to the cartel.

You hated children being involved in wars street to global. They should be innocent, worrying about the next toy that comes out or when the next time they will play with their friends. Not about soldiers and terrorist, you remembered when you were a child innocent. Didn’t even realize that your mom was shooting up while dad was out on deployment. You and your brother would go be off in the neighborhood playing with other children.

Even you didn’t have a proper childhood. It made you think if any child had a normal one. One where they didn’t have to worry about adult things at the age of 7. “Hermana,” Your thoughts were broken as Alejandro walked up. “Long time no see.”

You smiled. “Alejandro,” You patted his shoulder. “Wish it was better circumstances.”

“Me too,” He sighed looking around to start walking. “I assume Ghost and Soap are somewhere close?”

“Of course we are.” Soap said through the comms.

Alejandro smiled. “Perfecto, come now we found someone that knows where Valeria is.”

You followed him through the market watching closely around you. It seems like a normal day around them, people laughing and chatting. Something that you craved for, you wanted, a normal life. Yet you also craved for this, helping the need, having the world safe while you dirtied your hands.

“Valeria could be anywhere at this point.” Alejandro sighed.

“Ya think she could’ve left Las Almas?” Soap asked.

“No she would never leave this place, at least I don’t think she would. It’s her ground. Her home. Even if she doesn’t want to protect it.” Alejandro replied, his face turning into a frown.

You inhaled deeply passing through a group of people. “Well let’s hope she is still here then.”

“It took us months to find her,” Rudy spoke through the comms. “Luckily we found her through the children.”

“The children?” You asked walking lass more people.

“Si,” Rudy answered. “You give them money they will give information.”

“Trainin em to be spies eh?” Soap said huffed after.

“Unfortunately that’s the way it works.” Alejandro commented.

“So where is she?” Ghost interrupted.

“Well,” Alejandro stopped at a corner. “Hermana, she hasn’t seen your face yet. So,” He looked over at a truck. “You gotta change.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🐈‍⬛💀~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You waited inside a lobby as people walked in and out. The information was told she was here, in a whore house. Yep. Whore. House. You had to change into the skanky clothes to get into a lingerie. Show off your tits and ass. You knew Simon was not happy about it but Alejandro said he had some of his people in there if something goes south.

“See anything?” Ghost asked.

“Nothing,” You looked inside a darker room to see a woman giving a kiss on a man tying him up. “Just nasty twisted things in here.”

“What type of things?” Soap asked amusement laced in his voice.

“Something you couldn’t handle.” You quipped walking towards stairs.

“Stay focused she could be hidden up on the top floor. Only the head woman is allowed up there.” Alejandro explained.

You walked around, listening to the giggling, moaning, the beat of the music. You looked up the stairs to see the head mistress, she flickered her eyes to you. She knew that you weren’t one of her girls, she knew of that from how her state became curious. However, you needed her attention.

A drunken man came into view speaking spanish, it was hard to understand. Since most of it was slurring from drinking. You giggled and kissed his cheek before rubbing his face. Another woman took him apologized that it was her client. You didn’t mind. You weren’t here for that. Once you looked back up the mistress was heading down the steps.

You looked at her one last time, before going into a room, hoping that she would have followed you instead of security. You waited for a moment as you looked around the room you stepped in. Definitely a waiting room, has goodies and drinks for the men or women that come through.

“Quién eres?” A woman’s voice rang through.

You turned to see her, the mistress. She was cautious glaring up and down at you. Both of you stared for a moment before you smiled. “Elena, estoy aquí para ver la sin nombre.”

The lady was taken back at first. “La Sin Nombre is not here.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then why did she ask me to come?” You froze, why would you state that? It was way too bold. Way to harsh.

“What did she say?” Rudy asked.

The men started to have the conversation of what the hell happened. “Hermana you gotta go now.” Alejandro said.

The lady was confused yet, you could tell that she didn’t want to say anything. You just fucking hoped this was the best route. Stupid but there was no other way. “Hope you know what ya doing.” Soap said in the comm.

Fuck you hoped too, hope that you just didn’t fuck everything up. The lady nodded. “Come.”

You slowly walked behind her, watching your back. “I have sights.” Ghost said softly.

The staircase was spiral, leading up to a singular hallway, with couple doors on the side and one at the end. The lady turned to you and raised an eyebrow. Your heart thumped more and more as the door came closer. The mistress turned to you. “She’ll know if you tell the truth.”

With that she opens it, you looked as she side stepped revealing the room. It was pretty large, couch on the side with a table. Chairs side by side on the other, the desk on the other side with it’s chair. The room had one window which was covered. Painting of women all around.

“Interesting you knew I was here,” Your head snapped to the chair that it’s back was faced away. The one against the desk. “Only select few know.”

When the chair turned it was her. Valeria. You smirked from her comment, only if she knew. “I had my guesses.” You commented walking fully in.

You looked more into your surroundings. No guards from what you see, mistress left. It was only her and you. “Guesses,” She asked standing up walking around the desk. “No one just guesses cariño. Not even some of my people know where I am at.”

You rolled your eyes. You had to match the energy with her. “Fine I wanted to know where you were at so I paid little children.”

Not completely in the lie. She smirked. “Using the orphaned? Smart. The question is though why?” You glared at her for a moment, amusement behind your eyes. She leaned against the desk. “You’re a gringo yeah? Why would you want to see me?”

“What else would I want?”

“Power?”

“No.”

“Money?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

You thought about it before swallowing. You needed to know Makarov but it came around to heavy, it would send red flags to her system. “You.”

Valeria glared before gears started to turn. “Alejandro sent you.”

You couldn’t lie. She knew she had to right? “What if he didn’t,” You turned it you walked closer. “What if I needed information?”

Valeria laughed. “Information, Mierda, no doy información especialmente para los vaqueros,” You shook your head before you could answer. “I know he sent you. Eres una rata.”

Shit. “It wouldn’t matter if he did or not Valeria,” You explained. “Men are already around this place. I just need information.”

Valeria shook her head. “I could kill you right here. What if I call your bluff huh? Then what?”

“Then you have a bullet in between your eyes.”

Valeria glared at you before she picked up a pen. Moving it between fingers. “Pretty confident. What information?”

“What the dealings with Russia was for? How it intertwined with Hassan.” You said getting ready for the pen to fly your way.

Valeria stopped her tracks. “Russia? Never dealt with Russia.”

“She’s lying.” Alejandro stated.

You watched as she twirled the pen. “Don’t play dumb Valeria. You are not the only one who can see through lying.”

Valeria rolled her eyes with a smirk. “Even if I did what would you give me to help you?”

“Not kill you would be the first thought.” You quipped.

“Tsk tsk tsk. No gringo. You get information I get a favor.” She said placing the pen down.

“That’s not how this works.”

“It’s exactly how it works. No matter how many times the cowboys get me. I will always get back out,” She explained stepping closer to you. “You get information and I get my favor.”

You glared at her as she walked closer. “What’s the favor?”

“Transportation.”

#simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #ghost x black cat #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost #simon ghost riley x f!reader black cat

[allthenamesithinkofaretaken]

There Was an Attempt:

Forever After AU

TW// Violence, cursing, also google translated Spanish

[A universe where the MC lets the immortality get to her head and turns into a cruel, self-absorbed, arrogant ass. So MC is a big asshole here, I’m sorry. I also like to believe that this is the version in the universe where Shrek wasn’t born (Shrek: Forever After). How does that affect MC’s life if she’s never met Shrek in the first place? I have no idea. But I had fun, so I hope you do too.]

(Alternate title: MC pulls a Jack Horner)

Santa de las estrellas.

La eterna.

La joven.

He’s heard many people call her many names, lift their arms up to praise her as if she were a god. It filled him with unbridled rage the more he heard about her, his claws itching to get ahold of her soul and drag her down where she belonged. It had to be a fluke, her immortality. A scam that’s waiting to be publicized, and swore to the men and women and children she scammed that he’d be the one to show her lies, and once he does, he’ll let her ‘followers’ finish the job for him. He wasn’t Justice, of course not. But there was still satisfaction in wiping the arrogance off those that are filled with it.

The town she was living in was plastered with many posters and graffiti of her symbol, a symbol that was meant to give hope and show people that all she needed was their loyalty and they too, shall live for as long as she has. People were bowing to their foreheads to a false deity that feeds off their hope and their gold, throwing it into boxes in churches that were reformed just to show their love and loyalty towards her in hopes that they wouldn’t have had to face their demise.

Death was a frightening thing, he understood that, he was frightening and oftentimes quick to collect those far too early. But what he is is also necessary. The one thing that made life good enough to live was how sudden it was. It made people understand that with what little time they have, they have to make the most of it.

But this la eterna takes the meaning of life away from peoples hands, taking their gold and telling them that she’ll make them eternal, too. Feeding them with false hopes and false words that turned this once happy town into what it is now. Silent. Compliant. People littered the streets begging for food because they valued their gifts to her more than their own basic needs.

He sighed as an old woman cradling her child lifted a shaking cup up to him. Fishing a coin out of his pocket, he kneels down to her height, handing it to her and looking down at her shivering daughter. “Don’t give it to la eterna, she does not have your needs in mind but her own.”

“She gives us strength,” the mother shut her eyes as if in a silent prayer, and he could feel the anger in him burning even more. Not at this woman, of course, he could never truly hate mortals for their fear of him. He understood why they did, but he would be lying if he said it never hurt him more than once. “Death is frightening.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” He replies with a sigh. “It’s necessary.”

“I lost my youngest son,” She hissed, glaring into his eyes as she clutched her child closer to her. “Tell me, lobo, when is losing a child ever necessary?”

He couldn’t answer that. So instead he gave a stiff nod, pushing himself back to his feet. The woman’s words echoed in his mind, and filled his stomach with a sense of dread as he goes on to walk his previous path. It wasn’t him who had the say on who died and who lived, especially the time and how they will meet their demise, no, that was The Fates’ job, he was simply there to deliver their souls to the underworld.

Soon finding himself in front of the doors of la eterna’s mansion, he could hear the sound of celebration muffled from the outside world. He could hear laughter and squealing as well as music coming from the inside as his paws find their way into the hilt of his sickles. It wasn’t the first time he would crash a party, he’d collected a lot of important people during important events. Most of the time they didn’t deserve such a public death, but oftentimes, it couldn’t be helped. He never found joy in any of those times, but this one? Oh, he’ll enjoy this one dearly.

He pushed open the doors, the cool wind entering the room and blowing all the lit flames of the candles that hung upon golden candelabras, the music and laughter coming to a halt as darkness swallowed the room. His eyes flitted to the snobby and feared looks that came from la eterna’s circus of dukes and duchesses, then finally landed on the one that sat in the middle of it all, at the far end of the room in a beautifully handcrafted throne.

She sat there with barely a smidge of amusement in her expression, draped and wearing the finest of silks he’s only ever seen be written about in stories of some of the mortal’s gods and goddesses.

“Santa de las estrellas,” He takes a step inside the room, the crowd immediately parting as he walks, not liking the way his scarlet eyes glossed over them with disgust and anger they didn’t want to get in the way of. “La eterna,” His voice boomed over the silent hush of the room, and the more he took a closer step, the more he could see how unbothered she truly was. “La joven.”

“Nacido del río de la vida,” He continues, having the chants of the people already engraved in his brain. “Ella ha venido a traer juventud a todos.” His footsteps come to a halt at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to her throne, forcing a smile on his lips as he looks up at her. “I assume that it’s you they’re talking about?”

She only hummed, but as her eyes met his own, a smirk tugged up at her lips. “I would hope so,” she grinned. “I might get jealous with whomever gets your attention.” She tries to cup his cheek, but before her fingers could even dare graze his fur, a cry of pain escapes her lips, a gasp washing over the crowd as the sound of his sickles scraping against one another cut through the silence louder than her cry, and he could hear the people behind him begin to panic. He waited for the sound of blood to drip to the floor, and its sound would be the most satisfying thing he would ever hear, except he was only met with the sounds of her angered breaths as she glared up at him, eyes burning with a searing hate as she cradled her shaking hand close to her chest.

What in the—?

Her guards were on his side in less than a second, their swords pointed to his neck and yet always faltering when they dared try to step closer to him, the glint of his sickles underneath the morning light that shone above her throne more than enough to scare them off.

“What is wrong with you?!” She shrieked, shaking the hand that he had tried to slice and catching no more than a glimpse of a bruise where his blade had met her skin. “Do you have any idea how long that takes to heal?!”

Her angered voice cracked through the silence much louder than before, and it caused the people behind him and the guards beside them a lot more than discomfort but also fear. He couldn’t help but clench his hands tighter against the handles of his sickles in realization. She had everything wrapped around her finger. Their desires, their hopes, their dreams, and especially their fear. A simple sound of anger and displeasure from their saint then that would mean she’d take away all the life she had given them.

He didn’t speak, but only glared as she scowled, her lips pulled back as she turned to one of the servants, who had immediately bowed to his knees and produced a fine longsword from his back, offering it up to her with his head bowed and arms raised.

“You want to fight me?” He laughed as she took the hilt in her hand, easily twirling the blade as the people began to dissipate from the center of the room, walking up to highground where they would be able to spectate the upcoming fight much clearer.

“You raise a blade to me and think I’ll let you walk freely?��� She scoffed, testing the sharpness of her blade with a finger running along its edge. He expected no blood to drip, just like what happened before, but to his surprise, dark red began to pour on the sides of the blade, and the people that watched above began to jitter, their hushed voices causing a stir. Even the guards beside him looked at the dripping blood with worry, and he wondered what the fuss was about.

She places her bleeding fingertip inside her mouth with a satisfied hum, removing it with a pop and the wound was gone with not a trace left of it being there in the first place, save for the blood that ran down her finger and to her palm.

He found himself taking a cautious step back as she took one step forward.

She notices his confusion, grinning from ear to ear in amusement. “What’s the matter? Did you really think that I’m not as real as I make myself out to be?” She swung the sword in circles on her side, a laugh escaping her. “I may be an asshole, but I’m not a monster, you know.”

“You steal from the poor and let them starve while you party in your mansion, living a careless life while theirs waste away,” He growled, and the sound causes the guards to lift their swords higher to his neck, and she simply waves them away with a huff, rolling her eyes.

“Go away, I’ll handle this.” She ordered.

“But—”

“I said go!” Her screech would’ve hurt his ears, the two guards flinching and then running away. She scoffed, turning her attention back to him with a sickly sweet smile.

“You’re sweet, really,” she placed a hand to her chest, “I’ve never seen anyone care so much about those people outside. Except for me, of course. But I’m not stealing from them.” She walks past him, and he turns to watch her steps, heels clicking against the floor. “I’m only giving them what they want. They pay me to give them hope, to give them more time. I wouldn’t call that stealing now, would you?”

He clutched his sickles and then swung, a gasp echoing over the crowd that he had forgotten was looking at them from above. But she had simply used her hand to grab at his blade, a look of pain crossing her face as she did so, but no wound opened up in her palm, and no blood dripped.

“Can we really not talk this out over a date?” She grinned, batting her eyelashes at him. “I like you, you… intrigue me.” Her eyes flitted from his own, then downwards as if to check him out, before shifting her gaze back to meet with his glare, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip. “And it’s been so long since I’ve had any fun.”

He scoffed, pulling his blade away from her grasp and then taking another swing. This time, she blocked it with her sword, the sound of metal clashing and sliding across one another echoing as she quickly turned and swung her sword. He jumps back to dodge the swing, swiftly shifting and ducking down to slice at her side, the silk ripping as a pained gasp pushing past her lips, a hand coming to grip her side.

There was no blood. So far the only time he’s ever seen her bleed was with that sword. So if he could take it from her…

He was pulled back from his thoughts at the sound of her heels clicking against the floor. She swung upward once again, and metal echoed in the room as he trapped the blade in between his sickles, her own eyes glaring up at him with hatred that reflected his own.

“You won’t leave this mansion alive,” he hissed, and she laughed, breaking away from him, yellow sparks flying as their blades scratched against the other.

“I’d love to see you try, lobo,” she points the end of her sword at his face, a grin stretching her lips. “And when you fail— I already have a collar ready for you to wear.”

He could feel the anger burn his insides, and he relentlessly swung at her. If she can’t bleed, then fine, he’ll tire her out until she drops her blade.

Swinging at her cheek, she stumbled back a bit, a look of annoyance crossing her face that made his lips tug in a smirk, and when she swung, her palm clashed against the blade, letting the blood drip down the floor. The crowd gasps.

Idiota. He thought. Maybe she was too arrogant for her own good. Maybe this would’ve been easier than he thought it would be, and she’ll die by her own hands.

When he swung, she slid back to dodge, using her injured hand to stop herself and causing a smear of blood to stain the floor underneath. She ran to his side, but before she could get any closer, he swipes at her cheek, and this time he succeeds as an angered grunt escapes her. He swings his leg, and kicks her in the gut, the pain enough to send her stumbling back as she lands to her knees, clutching the sword with its blade pointed downward, her bleeding palm staining the floor yet again.

“Had enough? I thought you had more fight in you than that,” he scoffed, twirling his blade against the other, the sparks shining in his eyes.

She didn’t bother to reply, the pain too much to bear as she pushed herself back up to her feet.

He lunged, and she caught his swipe with her blade, lifting a leg to kick him in the gut but his hand caught her ankle and threw her to the other end of the room. Her back hit the wall with a sickening ‘crack!’ and she drops to the ground, using her injured hand to crawl forward and staining the floor with a sloppy red line.

She stood, knees almost buckling from how badly they shook and yet a grin on her lips that made his own drop and shift into a scowl.

“Still fighting?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m just getting started,” she chuckled, shaking her head to get the dizziness from her brain, she lunged, and he simply shifted to the side, using one foot to trip her, catching herself with her palms as she landed on the floor with a pained ‘oof’. The crowd erupted in hushed laughter, one that brought a bit of victory in him as he grinned down at the pissed off look on her face.

“Your own court is laughing at your poor attempts to fight,” he hummed. She was close to dropping the sword, he could take it now and be over and done with it, but he let himself bask in the victory.

“I don’t think they’re laughing at me.” She grinned, and the smug look on his face dropped, his brows furrowed as he looked up at the people that looked down on them, their looks smug and even amused.

His ears strained to listen to what they were talking about, and he found his stomach dropping in realization.

He turned to eye the smears of blood along the walls and floor.

She didn’t hit her hand against the blade on accident, she was—

The red stains from the floor glowed a bright red, chains quickly erupting from the ground, the crowd’s laughter sounding more and more sinister as the chains wrapped tightly around his arms and legs, pulling him down to his knees as she stood to her feet, a victorious grin on her lips. One chain wrapped around his neck, pulling his head down in an obedient bow.

As she walked towards him, the crowd cheered, and she knelt down to his height. He wanted to hurt her, wanted to wipe that grin off her face but whenever he dared move, a searing burn came down his arms and legs, the tightness of the chains growing that it made it even harder to breathe.

“Had enough? I thought you had more fight in you than that?” She parroted his own words in a sickeningly sweet tone, and her hands cupped his cheek, using the flat of her thumb to wipe his cheek. He growls and snaps his jaws up at her, causing her to back away with a gasp, her satisfied expression falling into an annoyed one.

“Behave,” she hissed. “Or I’ll muzzle you.”

“Let me go,” he growled. “Coño, do you understand what you’ll be doing if you keep me like this?”

“That I’ll be getting a new lapdog?”

The crowd laughed, and he could feel the burning along his neck, legs and wrist as he tried to get out his restraints.

“Such a shame, really,” She sighed, walking away from him as a servant came up and kneels down, presenting to her a wooden box that she opened, taking what was inside that made his ears fall back, his red eyes trying to burn through her with a glare that could send kings and emperors on their knees. “I would have loved to get to know you better.”

She walked towards him and he’d be damned if he’d allow her to collar him. He twisted and turned, not minding the way the chains gripped and burned him, a cry of pain escaping him as the one on his neck grew tight.

“¡cálmate!” She places a hand on his cheek, and his body goes rigid, the tightness of the chains ebbing away. “That’s it,” she hummed, her nails scratching at the side of his cheek as she leaned forward, wrapping the collar in his neck and finally locking it in place. “See? Wasn’t that easy?”

“As I said, I would have loved to get to know you better if you hadn’t come marching in here trying to kill me,” She scoffed, leaning back and cupping his cheek as he could do nothing but glare. “But oh well, I suppose in another universe we could’ve talked this out much better than we did now.” Giving him a peck on the cheek, he flinched.

When she pulled back, he snarled, spitting on her face. The crowd fell in a silent hush, and (Y/n) wiped the spit on her cheek with a scoff, flicking her wrist and scowling at the smug look on the wolf's face.

“Guards!” She called out, standing to her feet as her guards grabbed the ends of the chains into their hands. He tried to wiggle out their grip, but that only resulted in that burning pain yet again and he immediately stopped his attempts to escape. “Take him to the trophy room.”

One guard tugged much harsher than he thought they would, a growl rumbling from his chest as they tried to drag him away.

“You don’t know what forces you’re messing with, bruja!” He growled, making sure to let her hear the hate and anger with every syllable of his words. “When I get out of here I’ll kill you! And I’ll collect your soul like I should’ve done years ago!”

The threat made her freeze in her spot, and the sounds of people piling back as the party resumed from before felt distant as she stared blankly at her golden throne, her fingers curling in her bleeding palm.

“I’ll be looking forward to it, lobo.” She sighed, then turned back to the crowd with a forced grin, and yet, they could care less whether or not she was satisfied or happy. So long as they get what they want from her. Clapping her hand, she pointed to the band. “Now where’s the music? This is supposed to be a party, not a funeral!”

The crowd laughed at the joke, and she simply fell back down on her throne, a servant coming up to serve her another chalice filled with wine, drinking one glass after the other ‘till this day faded on just like the others, until she blacked out drunk and fell to the stone cold floor with nothing but the pain of knowing the eternity that awaits for her the next day.

All he could do as he stood there wrapped in chains was follow the guards that took him to wherever this 'trophy room' was, the anger that bubbled inside of him felt infinite as he mulled over his hatred, his jaw clenching as he glared at the ground, the feel of the collar around his neck only setting that anger in stone.

It didn't take long for the guards to tug him in another direction, a long hallway lined with wooden doors, with golden bars on top engraved with different texts. Sometimes, his ear twitched as the sound of despair and cries echoed from behind each door that they passed, and he wondered what other creatures she had behind them and if he'd ever get to meet any of them soon.

They turned another corner, and finally opened a door from the end of the hallway, pulling him in where his shoulders tensed at the sight of skulls that hung on each wall, their names engraved underneath.

He couldn't read any of them, not from where he stood as the guards latched the ends of his chains on an already prepared lock. Scanning the many skulls that circled the shelves of the room, he spotted creatures that varied species, and he even spotted a few human skulls that littered the collection, underneath their skulls were weapons of some sort, whether it be a dagger, a bow and arrow, or some other magical item. The answer as to what this room could be didn't hit him until he heard his own two sickles being hung underneath an empty space, and his grip on the chains around him tightened.

These were previous bounty hunters. Their skulls hung on the walls like trophies.

And he was next.

---

Santa de las estrellas= Saint of the stars

La eterna= The Undying

La joven= The Youthful

Nacido del río de la vida, Ella ha venido a traer juventud a todos= Born from the river of life, she has come to bring youth to all.

Coño= Cunt

#puss in boots #puss in boots death #puss in boots death x reader #puss in boots the last wish #death the wolf #death x reader #muerte x reader #pib:tlw #puss in boots the last wish x reader #fanfic #puss in boots the last wish muerte x reader #puss in boots the last wish death #puss in boots the last wish death x reader

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Top 5 characters you disliked/ hated in 2023

Top 5 main couples you were indifferent to in 2023

Hello hello... thank you for these... easy questions 😅 I really needed to think about the second one.

But let me start with 5 characters I disliked/hated in 2023. There were a few that I hated, but where I loved that fact (Hi Boston 💚) and then there were those characters I just couldn't stand.

Beginning the list let me introduce to you the one drunkhead I wish I could punch in his alcohol filled mouth...

Han Ji Yu from All The Liquors

It is the fact that he glorifies alcohol to a really unhealthy amount and the fact that this whole series tried to let us believe, not linking alcohol is something inappropriate just blew my mind. The writing for this series and this character was just not good at all in my opinion.

And of we go to the biggest let down for me this year:

Minato Akira from Minato Shouji Coin Laundry Season 2

I liked him so much in the first season. I adored his awkwardness around Shin and his journey to finally accept his own and Shin's feelings. And the second season took this development away from us and from Minato. He got stuck in denial and being over-emotional. He became unlovable and really annoying. The writers took away his charme and I really couldn't see anymore why Shin loves this man so much. I would have been so fucking frustrated with him after a few weeks. It wasn't quirky or cute. I really couldn't stand him.

And next in line:

Mew from Only Friends

In the beginning, I thought okay, he is inexperienced, but he has his standards. He is a little naiv, but I can like him... yeah... nope. Since he started dating Ray to hurt Top and became a total fuck towards Boston, he lost all his credits with me. I get he was heartbroken that one of his friends betrayed him in that way, but the way he thought only the worst of Boston and never apologized for believing he SAed little Atom is just a no from me. And the way he treated Top and Ray annoyed the fuck out of me. Can't stand him.

Uhkay... next is a character some might defend, but I thought he was just a total selfish asshole:

Lomfon from La Pluie

He might have a little redemption in the end, but too little, too late. He was a selfish prick. Yes, he thought he was in love with Saengtai, but he kissed him without his consent and just tried to interfere with the relationship between Saengtai and Phat. Okay, I really don't care about them that much, but he hurt Saengthian and this was one charcater I liked in this series and I will never forgive Lomfon for it!

At last there is this one character I wanted to scrape out their eyes....

Ye Wan Ying from Stay With Me

I don't have a good gif of her and I truely don't care. She was a manipulative bitch and I wish her the worst! She tried to play SuYu and WuBi off against each other and made WuBi jealous. I don't like when someone hurt my favorites! She was evil. I hate her!

Okay, so far with the first list, let's move on to my top 5 main couples I was indifferent to in 2023.

I start with the one couple that made me drop the whole show:

Suansoon and Ongsa from Absolute Zero

I really liked the first episode. I thought those two were cute together and I was rooting for them. And then the time travel happend and everything became a big mess. I lost interest in their relationship due to the fact that old Suansoon and young Ongsa became a thing and I lost my shit (not in a good way) about it. So I stopped watching it... and never regreted this decision.

On second place come

Joke and Zo from Hidden Agenda

I liked them in the beginning, but at some point in the story I just lost my interest. I don't know why, but they really didn't catch my interest. It was okayish to watch while it was airing, but I have to say, I can't really remember what exactly was happening with them. All I know is I thought the drama was unnecessary.

The next one really made me sad

Win and Team from Between Us

I loved them in Until We Meet Again. They were the best part of this series for me and I really was looking forward to this one. And then these two were...liveless. I don't know. I just couldn't get myself interested in their relationship. They felt so bland and without any surface. I can't really explain right now.

In number four we have

Johnny and HaiYi from HIStory 5

From the start I was a Vincent/Wynn-girl. The main couple was there, but I wouldn't have mind if they just vanished. Okay, in the end I couldn't care less about all of the couples, but those two were just not for me. I think they were boring and the drama was stupid. Time travel in bl really sucks most of the times!

And at last we have a couple I adored in the beginning and just lost interest over the runtime of the show:

Saengtai and Phat from La Pluie

I know this bl is loved my many and I can understand why (most of the times), but in the same way I sober up in seconds whenever a friend of mine is in need of help, I lost interest really fast in these two when the drama just annoyed me. Phat's jealousy, Lomfon's interference, Saengtai's secrecies and in the end Phat's anger and the way he was punching Lomfon, everything made me lose interest in them so fast! And to be honest, Phat became one of my most hated charcaters, when I think about it. I would have left him and never looked back after he punched Lomfon like that. I would never trust him again, that he won't hurt me, when we fight. Such a big red fucking flag for me. And yeah, just like that I lost interest in them.

Thank you very much for this ask!

ASK ME MY TOP 5 OF ANYTHING BL 2023

(I'll answer some more tomorrow... I need some sleep right now 😅)

#ask game #anything bl 2023 #bl drama #bl series #all the liquors #Minato Shouji Coin Laundry Season 2 #only friends #stay with me #la pluie #Absolute Zero #Hidden Agenda #between us #history 5 #thank you for the ask! 😘 #josi answers

[i--antimony]

tuesday!

another two-weeker because i forgor last week but it's not actually that beefy

listening: metric albums formentera from 2022 and formentera ii from 2023 are full of good earworms. favorite songs: all comes crashing, enemies of the ocean, oh please; just the once, days of oblivion, who would you be for me ... idk all of formentera ii is really really good. easily could list all those songs as favorite. just love a good synth! just incredibly catchy albums.

i got back into the podcast sweetbitter; i listened to the first season on sappho not long after it started, but fell off when they started season 2 on pirates. i'm listening to that one now and i'm enjoying it! i'm a little leery of season 3's topic (christian bible) but i feel like they do a good and sensitive job of covering information in general. the podcast hasn't actually updated in ages which is interesting, i'm not sure if they're just on hiatus or if it's like...done? i can't seem to find any information on it, there are some tweets that were posted on reddit about it that are now deleted, maybe there was a falling out??? it's possible they say something in the most recent episode (may of last year) about a hiatus but it's not in the episode notes...in any case, god i hate the ads they have. they're so stuck in my head in the worst way possible. 0/10 on that front. get that coin but please choose less obnoxious/a wider variety of ads (i know that's not always in their control but yk).

reading: finished mdzs. restarted svsss but it's been sideburnered for a few days while i play catchup on work.

watching: finished kill la kill with the boyf...am caught up to dunmesh...been passively absorbing the black list because my roommate has been watching it...

playing: fallow but i really wanna do disco elysium soon for Real

making: pottery has been on a planned 2-week break between sessions so no reports here! i did go in briefly for open studio to attach a handle and re-trim some of my citrus juicer. otherwise, really haven't done much...i restrung a necklace for my mom as a birthday gift a few weeks ago, and i have been drawing a little again! some dunmeshi fanart, some concepts for a painting i want to do.

eating: fairly boring - two weeks ago was in florida with my grandma and that eating is always notably bland. last week my roommate and i fuck-it-we-balled a bit so it was a lot of tuna salad and adjacent things, this week we got some more recipes rolling in though. last night we did a off-the-cuff vaguely-thai rice noodle and tofu thing that was real yummy but not the most filling because there was like no fat in it. definitely could use a different protein or something to juice it up.

misc: doing okay! valiantly played homework catch-up this past week! excited to go back to pottery tmrw, thinking about upcoming wedding gifts to make!

#tuesdayposting #Spotify

[herorkgk]

Now I'm curious. What's YOUR favorite OW2 skin??

i'll do you one better, here's my fave skins (that i own) for all the heroes

i opened up my game for this, if anyone reads through this good luck im sorry.

d.va - shin-ryeong

i can't even begin to describe why i love this skin so much but my fave part of it is the candles on her cannons

doomfist - saitama

fun fact i became the very thing i hate for this skin (doomfist player)

junkerqueen - zeus

i literally do not care this is her best skin and nothing that could come out for her will EVER be as good as this

orisa - reindeer

another case of they can never make something for her as good as this

ramattra - poseidon

honestly again. ik he doesn't have many but its just. how can they top this? i'm very into greek mythology so this event was really awesome for me tbh

reinhardt - cardboard i've wanted this skin ever since ow1 btdubs bc my fave spray for him was always him as a kid trick or treating with cardboard armour and i wanted him to have a cardboard skin so bad. when they came out with it i caved... it was just everything i ever wanted

roadhog - pachimari

i do not play roadhog.

sigma - maestro

i like scuba too bc of his rock hard abs but this one is just so unique

winston - werewolf

i also do not play winston but i love werewolves and i got this in a lootbox once

wrecking ball - horizon

i don't play this stupid thing but i like lore skins

zarya - totally 80's

DONT CAREEEEE best zarya skin

ashe - little red

this has been the staple ashe skin for me. ashe has a lot. a LOT of really good s tier skins and i think she has the most best skins out of other characters aside from like. tracer and genji.

bastion - coffin

bird is a freaking skeleton. best skin

cassidy - riverboat

i've been wearing blackwatch lately and i keep losing so i think its a skin issue. going back to tried n true

echo - kkachi

she's actually the cutest

genji - genos

i really like one punch man....

hanzo - casual

i remember the controversy over this skin back in the day it was so funny how grandpa they made him look. i think i like this one the most on hanzo bc i just like him as a character. i also like how this skin is him finally just being himself and in a subtle way showing how he's grown into himself as a person. means a lot to me

junkrat - dr. junkenstein

DONT CAREEEEEEEE BEST SKIN IN THE ENTIRE GAME NEXT!!!!!!

mei - jiangshi

best mei skin ik melon exists but be serious

pharah - orbital

pharah has a bunch of good ones too but i can't help loving her being bald

reaper - lü bu

best reaper skin. do not care

sojourn - cyber detective

people who pretend sojourn has no good skins are delusional this is peak

soldier 76 - grillmaster

do i need to say more. i will this was the first skin i ever worked really hard for in ow1. when i started playing again i grinded for days to get enough coins to get the full set golf swing pose, highlight intro and skin. i prayed i would get it in lootboxes but i never did so i worked really hard for this. corny but it means a lot to me, that was probably the most fun i ever had playing this stupid game

sombra - face changer

i wear bride a lot too but nothing can beat face changer. imo this is one of the top 10 skins in the game if i was rating them. i love the mythology, i love the colour palette, i love the animations as the face changes, i love that you can see which face she is currently wearing on her gun in real time. its a really impressive skin

symmetra - oasis

best sym skin its so elegant and pretty and cunty

torbjorn - cybjorn

kraft mac n cheese.....

tracer - comic book

i loveeeeee this one the panels from london calling.... eats this skin

widowmaker - ange de la mort

as a widow main this skin makes me hot

ana - night owl

goth bird. best skin

baptiste - funky

dude i will never not love this skin the custom music when you select it and the gun colours. groovy

i've hit my pic limit unfortunately i will need to rb and finish the rest

#.answered #i'm so sorry you've activated a neuron in me and i've become the most annoying person to my followers

[winter-parrot]

went and saw the les mis nat tour. thought i maybe wouldn't cry so much this time, was wrong. having lots of thoughts and feelings. i'm gonna dump them here in whatever tangle they come out in because i want to document some of it while it is still Fresh.

act 1

did not expect the prologue (esp on parole) to hit me that hard. i almost cried and that was when i knew i was in for it tonight.

there were!! little brick moments esp in the prologue!!! that i really loved!!!

valjean stealing a coin from a kid. this has to be a petit gervais reference even it it came early during on parole instead of the brick-accurate what have i done

baptistine and mme. magloire were there with myriel!

fauchelevent got his leg wrecked by the cart and specifically had to be carried off, which doesn't feel like a detail i've seen often

the entire town coming out with pitchforks to see valjean arrested was A Lot.

they didn't do the parole slip rip-to-the-beat thing!! they just did one (1) at the end i miss it.

they gave?? most of the factory girls solo over to the foreman??? that was a weird choice

they made fantine's firing more personal for valjean, mainly by having her try to talk to him and be brushed aside during the factory fight. valjean also paused to look back before he walked offstage. i dislike this.

lovely ladies was so brutal. oh my god. i felt her degradation and despair in the lovely ladies descent a lot more viscerally than i usually do. and but god i wanted to punch bamatabois so bad. good work to the actor, but fuck that guy

tiny tiny nit but they kept saying monsieur mayor which was driving me nuts. pick a langaug dammit!

runaway cart continues to feel choppy bc of all the lines they cut out of it.

it's not by the face, it's not by the voice, no, it's by the lifting that you recognize a man. this will always be funny to me.

there was!! a french flag!!! flying over the courtroom scene!!! it had words on them but i couldn't see all of it. the middle looked like egalite as you'd expect, but the far right was justice?? fraternite seems like a weird one to replace with justice, so maybe the whole thing was different? I couldn't even see the left where liberte would go bc of the stage lights.

little cosette was so good. oh sweet child you desrve all the hugs.

surprisingly managed to mostly enjoy master of the house. hated the opening more than i ever have before, specifically watching the audience laugh at mme thenardier abusing cosette. i realize it's not entirely the audience's fault, the show is absolutely playing it for laughs, but the ick was high today.

i will never not find show me where you live funny

look down broke in while jvj and cosette were stil having their sweet moment. idk if it was intentional but it felt very ominous and it worked

oh god gavroche was so tiny. i've never seen a gavroche feel so viscerally young, with all the invincible courage and rashness and childness bravado. i almost cried when he first appeared just because he was so small and so young and i knew what was coming.

i did a lot of crying in not-technically-sad scenes because i knew what was coming. oh god.

gavroche seemed to have a bit of hero-worship of enjolras, a la his relationship to bahorel in the book. this did become relevant in the most painful way that i feared.

i love enjolras's red waistcoat in look down

on the topic of enjo's costuming, i make fun of him for being half naked a lot. but i realized today that all the students are fully dressed (buttoned up, waistcoat + cravat, jacket) in act 1 but end up at more-or-less enjo level of (un)dress on the barricade.

is?? state of (un)dress being used as a visual shorthand for revolutionary fervour???

i think??? enjo almost got arrested after the look down scene. i missed the actual onset but i looked back towards him to find an officer waving a truncheon menacingly in his face, so.

in my life felt very ick!! which is not what was expecting. mostly it's the staging where cosette is trapped inside the courtyard pushing out at the bars, valjean comes in, unlocks the door for himself, and then locks the two of them back in. it brought back beeblemis trauma honestly.

(obligatory???) acknowledgment that vlajean does kind of become cosette's jailor in the brick, but the musical doesn't really have the room for that kind of nuance. not when we see so little of them.

courf just?? randomly grabbed a gun at the from nowhere?? at the end of red and black???

enjolras then shouted to the streets! raising said gun right before do you hear the people sing. this isn't the baricades yet!! this is a demonstrably bad choice like one (musical) day before your planned rebellion. especially if he's already been almost arrested. boy, what are you thinking???

i miss the revolve. they had to do some weird snaky maneuvers to keep marching without walking off stage. it looked stupid honestly.

garoche & enjolras's deaths area also elevated by the revolve imho

also the barricade revolve is just cool

oh god how am i not at the end of act 1 yet.

the one day more overlapping medley at the end felt werid disjointed and i'm not sure why?

one day more also made me cry not bc the song itself is particualrly sad but i couldn't stop thinking in one day more most of you will be dead which was. heartbreaking.

okay now i'm done act 1

act 2

i have less to say about act 2 i mostly just cried a lot

the tragedy of on my own really struck me, i think bc eponine felt more defiant?? like more angry about her fate, less lovestruck.

i cried at now we pledge ourselves to hold this barricade. more anticipatory grief knowing what was coming.

enj felt like a very good leader which i always appreciate. i love him, my boy.

javert's uncovering felt so violent in a way that i'm not used to seeing on stage. they fought. several times. it was very physical and tense.

also gavroche was so fucking proud and i was so fucking proud of him too and so fucking sad.

the audience laughed at now hat i know that you love... me as well which was. weird??? is that normally a laugh spot???

a little fall of rain wrecked me, partly for eponine's death, but partly for gavroche showing up just in time to see her die. musical gave no indication of their relation but i know and i was sad.

the progression from they will see the people rise to the people too must rise to the people have not stirred. god!!! this is not new but it did strike me anew today!!

courfeyrac??? told valjean well done, sir and like banged his gun against the barricade as a gesture of respect/praise??? that was weird on so many levels. idk where that came from.

i started crying near the end of bring him home and basically did not stop for the rest of act 2. only lessened in intensity at times.

grantaire's verse in drink with me was very belligerent and enjo was not putting up with it. i'm used to seeing this as a moment for enjo to comfort/soothe r (at least in the last ~10 years of productions) but this enjo was not fucking having it. it was more hostile than comforting. gavroche ran off to comfort r after.

oh my god gavroche's death. sans revolve they obviously couldn't show him on the other side of the barricade. so we just hear some shots, and then he throws the ammo over, and then he gets to the top of the barricade -- and then he gets shot down, right into enjo's arms. he then gets passed to grantaire, who stands there holding him for the entire lead up to the final battle.

enjolras was?? the first to die??? he ran up to the top of the barricade not to shoot but to wave the red flag, and then was the first to get shot down. then the rest of the amis in the standard cross-beam of spotlights thing. and then, last of all, grantaire puts down gavroche, runs up to the peak where enjo died, and is shot.

i'm not exactly upset about grantaire getting that moment, but him getting it alone -- esp after enjolras was the first to die -- felt like a weird choice.

the oboe solo pause after the final battle continues to be my downfall

thenardier says [God's] as dead as the stiffs at my feet while standing over marius. i have yet to decide if this is an intentional staging choice as commentary on "God may look dead but he's alive, i promise" or just a coincidence

they dropped valjean's there is a life to save line, no idea why

javert was so unhinged during his suicide. he was waving a pistol around for the first half and i briefly but genuinely feared they were going to restage his suicide to be by gun. thankfully it was an unfounded fear.

the candles are still my undoing!!!! i knew exactly what was coming when they brought them out during turning and yet. and yet. the simultaneous blowing out made me bawl.

side note, ghost!grantaire and enjolras appeared flanking gavroche and my first thought was are they his parents now??

dear god please do not let them parent anybody. they're bad enough individually but as a pair??? unthinkable.

i almost laughed during valjean's confession bc all i could think was ahh yiss story time with papa. i was still crying but it did not stop me from snorting.

can we cut that weird opening to beggar at the feast. you know the one.

this one's a jew is more ick than usual given current events

tacking on i might try it too after this one's a queer does not, in fact, make it gay liberation!!! it just makes it gross!!!

you've already cut so many lines from this show, why is this bit still here

take it away and give me back the i remember eponine lines in the same damn song!!!!

i think that's all for act 2??? even if it it's itls fucking late and this post has exceeded 2k words so fuck it.

general notes

i can trace the 2012 movie influences in places, that was unexpected

splashing waves as the opening imagery of work song

were the msurm factory uniforms always that blue?

did fantine's death always have that white curtain?

fantine spitting on valjean was a hathaway thing, wasn't it?

gavroche gets to keep his this is the land that fought for liberty line! i'm torn about this bc i love those lines but also this is my school, my high society bit was good too

the harmony at the end of red and black!!!! it was like my favourite music change for the move i love that they kept it

entire master of the house scene staging felt very movie-ish, just in the ~vibes~ of it

nose boops!! valjean boops cosette like four times i'm p sure that's a movie popularization

actor / character interpretation thoughts

valjean was good! i liked him better in the first act 24601/madeleine side than on the act 2 fauchlevent side, but still good

fantine was angry and i liked that.

thenardiers were mostly good. weird that they made mme obviously lust over other people??

marius was fun! good balance of earnest lovable genuine and idiot himbo booby.

did not like cosette. this is the first time i've actively disliked a portrayal of cosette and it was a big pity. the musical does enough infantalizing of adult!cosette already, i really did not need the actress to play that up.

mixed opinions about javert. honestly i think he's a fine musical javert i just like my book javert too much. obsessed with jvj, openly defiant to madeleine, very Godly, that kind of thing. but his voice was good and his suicide was extremely unhinged in a good way.

i fucking adored enjolras. he felt older?? which is not exactly the right vibe but it came with the right vibe of authority and calm that i super super appreciated. also he sounded beautiful and his hair was a glorious mane of curls.

grantaire is a delightful garbage bastard man.

i've already talked about gavroche but god gavroche!!!

courfeyrac kept catching my eye in both good ways and bad. kind of felt like he became ami #3? (after enjo and marius, per the musical). very often on enjolras's left, the first to seize a gun, the first to praise jvj on "killing" valjean (that was weird, what was that), etc etc.

song list in playbill was not incorrect but kind of weird. notable mentions:

the entirety of prologue was just listed as prologue

both what have i done and javert's suicide were just listed as soliloquy (not even x's soliloquy)

confrontation wasn't listed at all?? i'd think it was folded into come to me, odd as that seems, except that just has fantine and valjean listed.

drink with me became drink with me to days gone by???

all the little bits and pieces of song missing was expected, but seeing none of the battles listed at all felt a little weird. not even the final battle.

the spotlights on stage were mostly yellow/warm white, except for when someone died/was near death, where they got bright cold white spotlights. except javert -- he got the cold white spotlight in stars, too, and in one day more.

was this an intentional choice to make a statement about javert??

was this just an accidental coincidence??

did other non-dying people get the white spotlight too and i just didn't notice??

#les mis #oh god this got so long #2100 words.. help... #i had to go back and update several times bc the wordcount is making tumblr editor unusable on my browser rn #and i was afraid of losing 2k words #so i had to write and save in chunks #did you know there's a 4096 character-per-block limit??? #i sure didn't until today #if anyone wants to Talk To Me about this PLEASE DO #sylvie says

[ladywaffles]

o dearest lamblord: ilsa faust + either 3 or 33 from the hand holding list, please! and feel free to dial up the angst if mood strikes >:)

thank you darling :D i hope i delivered >:)

spoilers for mi7 under the cut!

cold hands in warm hands + bandaging the other's hand and not quite letting go

send me a list, a number, and a mission: impossible pairing!

Of all the people to come to their rescue at the eleventh hour, she never suspected it would be Brandt.

He didn’t like her, from what she could tell of the few interactions she had with him, but he respected Ethan and had more connections than the IMF would care to admit from his time working under Hunley at the CIA.

It’s Brandt, of all people, who comes to the rescue via courier and provides them another safe house, where they’re able to spend a few precious hours licking their wounds in Venice.

Ethan and Benji leave her on the bridge. They usher Grace away to rest under Luther’s watchful, wizened eye. Ilsa waits another full hour before she stumbles away like a tourist drunk on la dolce vita; her appearance is certainly messy enough for it, at this time of night.

It’s not until she’s stumbling into a sinking bell tower that she collapses, back pressed against an aging wood door as she cries. Not twelve hours ago, she was smiling on a rooftop in Venice with Ethan at her side, the picture of a perfect couple on a European tour.

Now, she’s losing him again.

“Hey, hey? Are you okay?”

Hands on her shoulders, fingers under her chin. Probes looking for broken bones or bleeding wounds, a flash of concern in green eyes far too familiar with the sensation.

Ilsa falls into Ethan’s arms and lets him take the lead. He guides her to a plush, if somewhat dusty, settee and sits down with her.

“Are you okay?” he repeats.

“I’m fine,” she sighs, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m fine, I’m okay, I just—I hate this.”

Ethan smiles sadly. “I know.”

In those horrible hours in Kashmir while they waited for Ethan to wake up, Julia took her aside and told her to beware of Ethan Hunt.

“He’ll break your heart and smile while doing it,” she said fondly. “And he’ll have no idea what he’s done, because the only thing he wants is the best for you, even if it means shattering his own heart into pieces in the process.”

“You sound like you speak from experience,” Ilsa replied.

Julia smiled the same smile that Ethan wears now, and it’s no wonder they were married, because they’re two sides of the same coin. “Why do you think I let him go? Ethan’s too good for the likes of this world. He loves so much, and so deeply, and he doesn’t realize that he wears his heart on his sleeve, because that’s just how he lives. Take care of him, please, but for you,” she trailed off and squeezed Ilsa’s hand. “I’ve been in your place before. I know what it’s like. Don’t forget to take care of yourself, too.”

“You’re freezing.” Ethan wraps his coat around her, then his arms, holding her as she stops shaking.

“Lying on a bridge in the middle of the night in Venice will do that to you,” she tries to joke, but it falls flat. “Where’s Benji?”

“He went to check in with Luther and Grace. He’ll be back in an hour or so.”

Ethan takes her hand, and he was right; he’s warmer than she is right now, and holding his hand feels like walking into a warm home, with a fire going and dinner on the table. Her knuckles are skinned and red from her fight with Gabriel. Ethan reaches over and grabs a black pouch out of his bag, then pulls out gauze, antiseptic, and a topical antibiotic.

He carefully cleans each scrape on her hand, sure not to miss even the smallest of nicks, then dots ointment on them and dresses the wounds. He doesn’t let go of her for a moment, working with only one hand at a time. It takes much longer, but they both know the sands in the hourglass are running low, and these may be the last moments they share together for the foreseeable future. She won’t begrudge him this.

They stay wrapped around each other until the sun starts to peek above the canals and Benji returns. Time waits for no man, not even the mythical Ethan Hunt.

It’s time to say goodbye. Time for her to die again and run to the farthest corners of the globe while Ethan, and Benji, and Luther, the closest thing she has to a family left, risk life and limb to do what she could not, to stop Gabriel and prevent the next world war.

“I—” she starts, but the words get caught in her throat.

I’m sorry.

I wish we had more time.

I’m coming with you.

“I’ll see you again,” Ethan promises.

She steadfastly blinks away her tears. “You better hurry, or you’ll miss that plane,” she tells him.

It’s a terrible joke, a horrible thing to say when her name is what it is, but it makes the corners of Ethan’s mouth turn up just a smidge, and that makes it all worth it.

He squeezes her hand one last time. Benji is waiting for him in the speedboat already. He needs to go and save the world now, and she can’t go with him.

“Here’s looking at you, kid.”

And then he’s gone.

#ask #mission impossible #mi7 #mi7 spoilers #ethanilsa #sorry not sorry for the angst but u enabled me!!!!! you told me i could do it!!!!!!!

[craftycheetah]

The smell of freshly baked cookies and brewing coffee filled Hitoshi and Denki’s noses as they stepped inside, wary of the possible cats at their feet. Hitoshi chuckles at the calico wandering between his legs, softly meowing at him.

“Hey, Dot,” he smiles, walking up to the cashier. 

“Mrow!”

“The cats here are so friendly. I have to take pictures of them. I mean, look at the Tabby and the Toyger cuddling over there. I’m posting them on my Twitter. They’re so cute,” Denki smiles before stopping as he sees Onyx. “Oh…hey lil buddy.”

“You good, Denks?”

“This is the one that hates me.”

“But he’s so handsome. Hey Onyx,” Hitoshi smiles.

“Oh! Uh… it’s… you,” you mumble. The counter suddenly became the most interesting thing in the room as you looked down in embarrassment, your hand reaching back to scratch your neck. 

“Oh yeah, and it’s…you, I guess,” he chuckles. “How’s the little guy?”

“He’s okay. He’s right here if you wanna say hi?” you mumble.

“Where?”

Pushing your gray sweater away from your cargo pants, reaching into your thigh pocket. “Right here.”

Taking the cute off-white kitten from your pocket, who’s now much cleaner than when Hitoshi found him, you smile as he squeals and looks at Hitoshi. “It’s okay, little one. You want a snack?” you coo. You reach into your other pocket and take out a tube of soft cat treats. Adjusting him so he rests in the crook of your arm, you squeeze out the treat and snicker at his enthusiasm as he licks it up eagerly. “Good kitty.” 

“Can I hold him?” Hitoshi asks.

“Are your hands clean?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

Handing the kitten over to the purple-haired man, you smile as Cookie Shake nuzzles into Hitoshi. ‘Aww, that’s so precious,’ you think. ‘He’s good with cats.’

“So, what can I get for you and your friend?”

“It’s kind of a large order,” Hitoshi mumbles, eyes focused on a purring, closed-eyed Cookie Shake.

“I’m sure I can handle it. What would you like?”

“One berry blast, a matcha cold foam, a peach and cream black tea, an ombre iced coffee with oat milk, and a black widow frap,” he lists off before looking over at Denki, who’s lifting his legs away from Onyx, who’s finding joy in smacking his calves.

“I don’t think he likes me,” Denki whines. “Can you buy a set of cat treats so he’ll stop assaulting me?”

“So a bag of cat treats, a berry blast, a matcha cold foam, a peach and cream black tea, an ombre iced coffee, a black widow frap, and a vanilla lavender coffee. Anything for your friend?”

“A double chocolate chip frap, extra whipped cream, please?” Denki asks.

“Wait, I never ordered a vanilla lavender coffee,” Hitoshi realizes.

“No, you didn't, but you didn’t order for yourself,” you snicker.

“Dang it.”

“You got distracted by the cat. It happens all the time.”

“Yeah, a vanilla lavender coffee.”

“Let me read that back. A bag of cat treats, a berry blast, a matcha cold foam, a peach and cream black tea, an ombre iced coffee, a black widow frap, a double chocolate chip frap with extra whipped cream, and a vanilla lavender coffee?”

“Yup.”

“4,987.86 please.” 

Reaching into his wallet, Hitoshi takes out a 5,000 yen note and waits for his change, giving you a slight nod when you hand him his coins.

“Thank you, have a nice day. You can wait in the lounge area and spend time with the cats if you'd like. Here are your treats, and I suggest the spot not too far from the window for some of the more friendlier cats,” you smile, taking a bag of cat treats from behind the counter and handing it to Denki, who eagerly grabs it and makes his way to the window.

“Thank you,” Denki calls out while walking away.

Reaching out for Hitoshi, you grab his sleeve, stopping him before he can follow. “Here, on the house. Also, as an apology for macing you the other day.”

Hitoshi looks at the layered cheesecake and smiles. “I already forgave you since it was an accident, and you acted out of reflex. It’s fine, but I’m not passing up free cheesecake,” he chuckles, looking at the geometric design of cocoa powder on top of the layered coffee cheesecake.

“Really?! Thanks.”

Hitoshi hands Cookie Shake back to you, and you start making their large order.

Ten minutes passed after you, and the boys said your goodbye; it was almost Tsuyu’s shift, so you decided to make her life a little easier by tidying up the place a bit. You heard the bell chime and looked up, seeing a face you did not want to see.

“Wow,” Dabi whistles. “Toga was right. This is a nice place.” 

You felt your blood go cold as you stared at the man in front of you. Dabi, Shiggy’s right-hand man, strolled in with a smirk and an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

Dabi strolled towards you, noticing a small white cat near the counter. “The cats seem friendly too,” he smiles, trying to pet the cat before flinching as she hisses and scurries away from him. “Or at least they’re supposed to be.”

“Why are you here? Your turf isn’t around here. As far as I know.”

“I had things to do, so I was in the area. Shiggy said he wanted me to check on ya,” he shrugs before his sapphire eyes fixate on you as he gets closer. “At first, I thought, ‘why should I? This is stupid,’ until I saw something through your window.

A chill ran up your spine as you tried to figure out what he saw. Trying not to sweat, you gulp softly and look at him. “So, um, wh-what did you see, exactly?”

Ignoring your question, he makes his way towards the seat by the window where you knew Denki was sitting while playing with the cats about twenty minutes ago. Picking it up with two fingers, he looks at the jacket with the words “Mad Dogs” stitched onto the back in disgust and sneers.

“Was this here during your shift?” he huffs.

“Uh, nope! Nope, never seen it before. Must’ve been left behind by a customer or something.”

“So, you don’t mind if I burn it then?” Dabi smirks, taking out his lighter and moving it towards the leather sleeve.

“Dabi, wait! Wait! Stop!”

Snickering, he closes the lighter and grins. “You know how the boss feels about other bikers,” he sighs with no remorse in his words.

Staying quiet, you look away from him and rub your arm. 

Dabi continues, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, wait ‘till he hears about this. Poor Shiggy’s gonna be so disappointed.” 

Looking back at him, you whine. “Why does he have to know? Please, Dabi, they’re just customers, and I just work here!” you plead. 

Dabi’s phone rings, pulling his attention away from you. He looks at it before rolling his eyes. “Ugh, I gotta head out. It was fun talking to you, though. Hopefully, the boss doesn’t get too mad at you,” he laughs before making his way towards the door. Before he steps out, he looks back at you and smiles. “Watch your back, pudding.”

________________________________________________________________________________________

Purr Like An Engine pt.5

←prev || Masterlist || next→

»Summary: Bikers weren’t necessarily a problem in your city, but to you, they were like the bubonic plague. After running into one of them, you had to ask yourself, are bikers really that much of a nuisance?

Ghost readers don’t get fed!

Taglist: @endeavours-jockstrap @milkmademozzarella @mxonigirimiya @kurocantcommunicate @minninugget @readergurl20

Send an ask if you want to be on the taglist!

© craftycheetah: all rights reserved. Do not edit, modify, repost, or claim my works as your own. Reblogs are appreciated.

#hitoshi shinso x reader #x black reader #bnha x reader #bnha smau #shinsou x reader #bnha x black!reader #shinso x reader #shinsou hitoshi #mha x poc!reader #mha shinsou #mha smau #bnha social media au #bnha shinsou #mha x reader #bnha

[viciouslyfilthy]

Character Info Sheet

Name: Rotgut

Name meaning: literally just means putrified intestines. Shocker I know /j

Alias(es)/nicknames: La Tripa Podrida (basically his name's meaning but in spanish), Gut, Lust, the roach, little old man, The Thing below Barcelona (by spanish news articles), the cockroach man 'el hombre cucaracha' (by spanish news articles again).

Etchnicity: arab, european hispanic (Iberian Peninsula).

One picture you like best of your character:

Sorry y'all I'm gonna have to break the rules here because I can't just choose ONE picture I like best😔 here we go:

[First (1) image of Rotgut smiling mischievously is not the mun's art; it is a part of an art trade with the artist @crazy-eyed-doggo on Instagram ; second (2) image of Rotgut has been drawn in an exaggerated cartoonish style to re-imagine what the character would look like if he were a villain in shows like Powerpuff Girls/Billy&Mandy ; third (3) image of Rotgut is directly referencing this meme video. Translation: "and in return, you sign your ass, over to me." ; fourth (4) is a video of Rotgut introducing himself, with two drawings put together featuring his voiceclaim.]

Three h/cs you've never told anyone:

Rotgut enjoys crossdressing! He's curious to experiment with his own gender sometimes, either that or he just wants to feel pretty in a different look. (It's one of those rare cases where he will shower and clean himself up NOT because he's expecting to get laid lol)

Rotgut has collected a good amount of objects and trinkets during his 800 years of life. From old coins that you'd find displayed in a museum today; to ancient books (diaries or bibles), jewelry and clothes.

Sometimes he will go on for so long being unclean (we're talking decades) that actual fungi will start to grow on his body/clothes, specifically stinkhorn mushrooms.

Three things your character likes doing in their free time:

Sex and reading porn aside (to the surprise of absolutely nobody) Gut enjoys watching soap operas and reading classic tragic romance books. (William Shakespeare would be his favourite author in this case)

Playing with marbles. Always brings a bag with him if he's going on a trip!!

Try new recipes while cooking. He likes to expand/improve his cuisine. Sometimes asks Cornelius for guidance or tips.

Eight people your character likes/loves:

His kids, all 30 of them but for the sake of this dash game we will assume that counts as one <3

Himself ofc.

August. (his plague bestie!!)

Edgar the Bug (Men in Black)

Jeremiah.

Taryn.

Cornelius/Versy.

Captain Josep Frascona.

Two things your character regrets:

(During moments of self-awareness) he regrets the person he's become now. He knows his behaviour is unlikeable and indecent, because of this ofc most everyone around him hates him or is scared of him- which leads him to not being able to bring his kids out in public (or alternatively, he gives them a bad reputation when they become adults because of who they're related to) because he's scared they might get hurt as a result of people who hate him; he knows it's his fault for this outcome, but he hates everyone around him (that aren't his children) and just refuses to let go. He resents humanity for how much he has been pushed around, mocked and hurt physically in the past for just existing. He doesn't think anyone is worthy of recieving genuine kindness because deep down they're all just as disgusting as he is. This leads to ego and self-importance that makes him feel superior to others because he's not scared of showing just how revolting one can be + he's not human anymore + he's immortal + he can control/speak to hoards of cockroaches.

He also regrets having placed his distaste for humanity so high he's passed it down on his first generation of children. For the most part, this has caused a few of his children to distance themselves from him, like for example Judith and Kolvenik, which hurt him deeply. Kolvenik flat out blames his father and his hatred for humanity as to why he's developed his genetic disorder that has caused him to permanently shed off his human disguise as he got older (which is completely incorrect just to clarify; how Rotgut feels towards mankind has nothing to do with Kolvenik's genetic issue, he just hates and resents his father mostly as a form of projecting his own self-hatred living as a humanoid bug monster that can't have a human form).

Rotgut tries to better himself non-stop when it comes to raising his newest kids, because he wants to see them be happy and make friends and connections, be likeable and be liked by others regardless of what species they are, unlike him. This makes him a bit hypocritical since when he's on his own, he openly goes back to his old ways & antics- with his kids however he just kind of puts on a mask.

Two phobias your character has:

Philophobia -> fear of genuinely falling in love.

Athazagoraphobia -> fear of being forgotten by loved ones/forgetting someone important to him.

Tagged by: @frostcorpsclub

Tagging: ALLLLLL of you👈🤨

#from my mouth to yours ( rotgut ) #mi amor ( rotgut aesthetic ) #roots from the past ( oc info/backstory ) #dash games.

[pentopaper23]

Our own form of courting: Chapter Four - Even if a woman is entering the stage of courtship, she should never walk with the gentleman in public without a chaperone.

The markets were buzzing with people as Jack and Belle made their way though the stalls. Belle had remembered her thoughts that night in Jacks bedroom, and she had convinced him to let her buy him a new suit. She was pleasantly surprised to discover that with a few kisses and some gentle words she could make Jack agree to anything she wanted. Jack on the other hand vowed to never let her use her womanly ways against him again, but truthful he knew he would never been able to deny her anything. To that end he now found himself standing on a box in the dressmaker’s with a small French man measuring his inseam. Belle was speaking to him in rapid French while sorting through the sample colours and arranging different matches together. Jack only speak a little French, short phrases picked up here and there in the bowels of the naval ships she served on.

“C'est fait ma Dame. (Done my lady),” The tailor said wrapping his tape around his shoulders. “De combien de temps pensez-vous avoir besoin ? Je suis heureux de payer pour votre temps supplémentaire. (How long do you think you will need? I’m happy to pay for your extra time.”, Belle said quickly passing him her colour selection. Cream for the pants, white for the shirt dark green and blue for his new vests and simple black for the two additional summer and winter coats. He had drawn the line at a new hate stating that he liked his old hat and that it would treat him well for a few more years yet. He also caved and allowed her to pay for some mends and alterations to his naval uniform, something that he did admit was well overdue. They wouldn’t pass muster in their current form and shame filled him when he had to wear them in their current state.

”Non non. Pas de supplément pour le médecin. Il a allaité ma petite-fille le mois dernier et elle va maintenant aussi bien que la pluie d'été. Il sera prêt d'ici la fin de la semaine. (No, no. No extra for the doctor. He nursed my granddaughter last month and she is as right as summer rain now. It will be ready by the end of the week.)” the tailor said taking the fabric from Belle. She smiled kindly and thank him for his time. Jack did the same in his broken French and the pair left the store in search of her next purchase.

They wandered around the town ducking into shops here and there, Belle buying odds and ends that she may need. Jack brought very little, his only purchases had been some new paper and pencil to replenish his stock of drawing supplies. They had lunch at one of the new café that had opened up in the classier part of the town and sat together at a tea shop for tea and scones.

They had just left the tea shop when the hairs on the back of Jack’s neck prickled, and his hand shot out without thinking to the grab the small one that was just about to dip into Belle’s skirt pocket. Belle gasp and twisted away in shock, she dropped her shopping when she grasped protectively at her pocket that held her coin wallet.  

“Oi!” Jack yelled yanking the small boy by his hand, “Wha' do you 'hink you are doing?!” Jack yelled his accent slipping into his East London tongue. The young boy was struggling against his hold, “Le' go ov me old cock!” he yelled spitting on Jack’s shoes. With a swift clap Jack’s hand made contact the boys head, “Tha's Sir 'o you! Apologies 'o 'he lady!” Jack shouted yanking the boy to stand in front of Belle. Belle was standing there in shock trying to translate the words that each of them were saying and even more shocked that Jack had just smacked a child in public and no one had yet said a word. The market buzz hadn’t stopped, and no one had even seemed to notice the scene that was unfolding.

“Wrong one Matty boy!” a voice yelled, and Jack sighed closing his eyes. Running up to them was Fagin, “Sorry bout that. Boys still in train’” he panted. Jack let the boy go and glared at Fagin, “Really? Your goin 'o ge' 'ha' boy 'anged. Where do you 'hink 'hey send pickpocke's from 'ere?!” Jack yelled making Belle flinch and come back to her senses, “I can’t be here Jack.” She said thinking about the scene that was unfolding staring the governor’s daughter, the town doctor and a criminal act. She scrambled to gather the items she had dropped, and Jack pointed at Fagin silently telling him to stay. He bent down to help her pick up her purchases.

“I’ll deal wi'h i'. Go back 'o 'he 'ospi'al. I’ll mee' you 'here.” and shockingly Jack placed a quick kiss against her lips before grabbing Fagin roughly with one arm and the boy with the other and dragging them away into the closet alley.

Jack was furious by the time he got back to the hospital. Fagin had picked the boy up after finding him going through the bins behind the pub and instead of coming to Jack in order the find the boy a legal job he had fallen back into his old ways. Jack wasn’t kidding when he said the boy would hang, the courts didn’t transport people from the colony. It was either don’t get caught or the rope and Syndey wasn’t the place to train a new pickpocket. London was safer but not by much; many of the boys that Jack grew up with ended up at the end of the rope of losing a hand.

He took the stairs two at a time to reach his bedroom door and slammed it closed when he entered. “We can’t be a part of that and be together Jack,” Belle said from where she was seated on his bed. Jack jumped at her voice; he hadn’t noticed her when he entered. He nodded throwing himself down into his desk chair, “I know,” he said looking at her. Her dress was covered in dirt from where she had knelt down to pick up her stuff and she looked to have been crying. Jack sighed and moved to sit on the bed by her legs. He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over he knuckles, “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said quietly his eyes locked on their hands.

“Where’s the boy?” She asked putting a finger under his chin to make him look at her. “He is downstairs with Hetty annoying the nurses,” Jack said, “I’ll find him something to do. Keep him out of the towns pockets” he continued, and Belle nodded leaning forward to kiss him. “I liked the accent by the way,” she said softly running her fingers over his jaw and lips. Jack smirked, “Yeah? 'ah much? He asked and laughed when Belle bit her lip and pulled him back down to kiss her deeply. “Too much,” she whispered against his lips and groaned when Jack deepened their kiss.

#fanfiction #pentopaper23 #fanfic #fan fiction #ao3 fanfic #dodgerfox #jack x belle #jack dawkins #lady belle fox #the artful dodger #the artful dodger fanfiction #the artful dodger fanfic #artful dodger #artful dodger fanfiction #dodgerfox fanfiction #dodgerfox fanfic #belle fox #belle x jack #cross posted on ao3

[gemsofthegalaxy]

warning: criticism of tdp season 4 and rayla and callum's whole thing. if you love how it's going and love what they did with the narrative and can't wait for the slow burn, then this post probably won't be to your taste, which is fine.

pleease let me know if there are any commonly used "negative" or "critical" type tags that people blacklist if they don't want to see negative opinions on the show, I'm not here often enough to have seen any, and this isn't meant to piss people off but instead to commiserate with people who are more in agreement. lol.

Okay, after going back and watching the finale of Season 3 to give myself more context...

I understand even less how so many people are like "As much as it pains me, I understand why Callum is so hurt and won't talk to Rayla and why he's mad" and "I'm glad they let Callum be mad at Rayla and didn't resolve it too quickly"

because I don't? Not that I don't think it's valid to be mad at someone for leaving you, but, we're dropped into this new dynamic out of nowhere. we don't even get to see Rayla leave. to me, it's just like, a bizarre vibe and one created from stuff that happens entirely off screen?

(I do know that there is a comic that apparently explains what happened between S3 and S4 but I haven't read it! and i wouldn't know about it if not for tumblr. i don't care to keep up with creators and i hate it when it feels like that's a prerequisite to understanding a tv show, which I usually presume to be standalone media. but i digress)

We know Rayla left on Callum's birthday. Dick move. We also know she left because she wanted to get revenge... on Viren..? who, as far as she knew, was completely dead though I can understand it would be unnerving that they never found his body.

I would hazard a guess the real reason would be trying to get those coins back because they contain her family members- again, apparently there is a canon reason available, but i don't have access to it, so I'm left to invent my own.

And Callum... Is pissed and feels betrayed, which I do get, however... what I don't understand is why he's not interested in hearing her explanation?? see, most of the time when I am hurt or wronged I want to hear the reason and have the person explain their process EVEN when i think it won't do anything to help me, and most of the people I know feel the same (certainly not all, but most). So, Callum specifically not wanting to talk and having this quiet disappointment-type-anger just comes across strange to me when i would think he'd be more like "Why'd you leave me? and what are you back for now? what is going on here Rayla?"

now, i have read, also on tumblr, that Rayla left him a LetterTM. I don't remember this being mentioned in Season 4, but I don't disbelief it and I could have just missed it. if it was exclusive to the comics, what I said above still stands.

if the letter is mentioned in Season 4, then, like, surely Callum does know something about why Rayla left? or at least has insight into what she was going through that prompted her leaving?? What little we get from her in Season 4 shows that she seemed desperate for answers and was paranoid, etc.... would he not have some sympathy?

I know he was left behind, but I don't get why people say that Rayla "betrayed" him or "lost his trust". If she left with an explanation that she was leaving, anyway- if she left without a trace and on purpose I would get she "betrayed" him(but I also feel like, if she just vanished completely, wouldn't Callum be more worried about her, and then relieved upon seeing her- even if he quickly turned sour after realizing she chose to leave. If, for 2 years she was just GONE out of thin air, and showed up again I think that would have garnered a different reaction?).

like. I don't know. I feel like I'm missing huge chunks of things (which, I guess I am, having not read the comic). and I don't necessarily want the characters to outline exactly how they're feeling a-la therapy speak, but they felt so robotic and strange this season that I still didn't feel like I was accessing any emotion from them that made sense. like, that's a bit of a harsh way to put it, but still!

overall, i don't really understand Callum and Rayla's emotional reactions to each other. I don't get why Callum wouldn't have an ounce of faith that Rayla had a valid reason for leaving even if it caused him pain. I also don't get why he doesn't want to know about what she faced, or a further explanation for why she left, and I suspect one of the major reasons they can't talk about it is they're just drawing it out for next season, but in that way it feels contrived, to me.

#tdp #the dragon prince #the dragon prince negative #tdp critical

[isimchi]

My BACP (Build A Community Project) Guidelines for TS2

A couple weeks ago, I lost my Pleasantview Uberhood to corruption. I wanted to start a custom hood, and considered doing a BACC, but ultimately decided against it because my gameplay objective is to have fun, but the BACC financial aspects and challenge rules seemed a bit overwhelming; I felt like it would lead to more stressful gameplay for me personally. So I decided to come up with my own minimal guidelines to provide some level of organization and rules, without getting in the way of the creative and sandbox elements of the gameplay I love so much. So here's the Build a Community Project, guidelines that are free for anyone to use or borrow from. I may add on to this or change some things as I play my first BACP hood, Las Flores!

iSimchi's Build A Community Project (BACP) Guidelines:

How to determine the founding families:

1. Use a random number generator from 2 to 6. The number you roll is the number of households. 2. For each household, use a random number generator from 1 to 4. This is the number of adults in the household. Each adult must be either spouses or siblings. 3. (Optional) For each household, use a random number generator from 0-2. This is the number of pets for each household. Flip a coin for animal type: heads = cats, tails = dogs.

CAS Guidelines:

• No rules in terms of appearance or name, randomize or choose. • Use a random number generator, 1 to 6, to determine aspiration: 1- Family, 2- Fortune, 3- Knowledge, 4- Popularity, 5- Romance, 6- Pleasure. • Use a random number generator, 1 to 10, to determine zodiac: 1- Scorpio, 2- Sagittarius, 3- Capricorn, 4- Aquarius, 5- Aires, 6- Taurus, 7- Gemini, 8- Cancer, 9- Leo, 10- Libra. * You can adjust the personality points however you want afterward, as long as it does not change their zodiac sign. • No rules for Chemistry, randomize or choose turn offs/ons.

Move in Guidelines:

• For each household's family funds, use a random number generator from 13-20. The number you get is how many thousands they can start with. You can lower the bottom number if you want a bigger challenge. • (Optional - mod needed) When building a home, you can use the loan jar, 5k max, and must pay it off before borrowing more. • For emergency devices, your family.. needs 25k+ in net worth to use fire alarms.  needs 35k+ in net worth for burglar alarm.  needs 55k+ in net worth for car alarm or security cam. • When moving back to the hood after college, use a random number generator, 1-5, to determine how many thousands your grad is starting with. They must move to an apartment at first, and can have multiple roommates. • When moving out from a household, those moving out get a fair cut of the original household's funds instead of the standard 20k. (using the familyfunds cheat, evenly divide the total funds between those leaving and those staying). At least 1 of the sims moving out needs to have earned a total of least 1k with that household before they leave.

Hood Guidelines:

• Your first community lots must be a grocery/shopping center, and a nightlife destination (restaurant, club, bowling, combo, etc). • For every household beyond the first two, you earn a new community lot (so if you start with more than 2 households, you can start with more than 2 community lots). • Community lots can be purchased if it is not a public work (library, school, town hall, etc), but do not need to be owned or run by a playable sim. • You can chose to build multiple of the same kind of community lot (resturants, clubs, bars, malls, etc) as long as their decor themes differ. • Add a University when your first child ages up to teen, or a teen is adopted. You can use a premade Uni or make your own (I hate making my own so this is biased for me lol) • Add a custom downtown when the main hood population reaches 30, and add 3 nightlife destinations. If you add families there, you get 2 community lots for each household (since downtown is more commercial than residential). • Add a custom shopping district whenever you want, but these shops must be owned by sims, so you need at least one sim with the resources to start a community or home business to relocate there. • Add a vacation destination when you reach 50 residents across main and sub hoods.

Misc/ Optional Guidelines:

• Sim's life choices are determined by their wants, any actions you choose for them must either align with their aspiration/LTW or their current wants and fears. Other than that, I personally only direct them to fulfill their needs if they are very low, but let them pass out or pee themselves if they aren't caring for themselves. If you put their needs before their wants, that's fine too. • There can only be one level 10 career holder in the entirety of the main / sub hoods per career. If two sims roll want for the top spot, coin flip or make them play rock paper scissors or another win/lose game… or fight for it.  • Insane wants can be adjusted with LTW adjuster, must match asp or true hobby. (I hate the 20 kids/6 grandchildren LTW and feel it clogs the genetic pool, so I change those, my bias again) • Disable Rod Humble by using mods or give away/never open the computer he delivers. Sims only get a computer when they can afford it. • Multi-generational households: I don't stick to the traditional American nuclear family customs, family members can live with each other indefinitely while also starting families of their own, space permitting. • No taxes or price increases, you only need to pay Maxis standard billing/pricing, unless you use the loan jar mod. If you use this mod, you can use the Maxis level billing (level 0). • Use whatever lifespan mods if you want shorter or longer lives. • Add custom townies to the townie pool if you wish, limited to 8 for each age group (if using townie free hoods you'll need to do this anyway). If you play with supernaturals, you can add one of each type to the townie pool. • Aside from emergency devices, there are no limits on what furniture your families can purchase. • If not fond of building, downloaded lots work all the same!

#I feel like a online recipe person with the long intro / explanation lol my bad #the sims 2 #ts2 simblr #ts2 #ts2 gameplay #sims 2 #mine #sims 2 storytelling #sims 2 simblr #the sims #sims 2 custom hood #build a community challenge #bacc #bacp #build a community project #sims 2 bacp