#Because it doesn't make any fucking sense that's why

[sincerelyneo]

could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐

mad at you | l.mk

“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”

💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we

❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.

❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader

❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex

❯ words: 4.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.

an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.

The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 

But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 

You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.

So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 

He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 

He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 

The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.

“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”

You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 

“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”

You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”

"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."

Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 

“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”

“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”

“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”

“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”

You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.

“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 

“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”

“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 

Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 

“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”

You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 

“Oh, so you want to break up?”

He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”

The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 

Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.

Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.

“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”

“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 

Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 

He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.

After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 

It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 

Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.

Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 

As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 

You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.

The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.

However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.

“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  

You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”

Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.

His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 

"I thought you left..."

Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.

“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 

You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 

He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”

His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 

"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."

Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."

"No—"

He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."

Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.

"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."

"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"

Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"

His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.

"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."

You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”

You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.

Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.

His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.

You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.

He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.

“‘s okay,” you whimper. 

Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.

He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 

He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 

And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 

“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”

You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 

“Mark…” 

“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 

You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.

And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.

As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 

You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 

He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 

Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 

The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.

You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 

You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 

Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.

Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.

And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 

You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 

So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...

“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”

You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.

“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”

And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 

And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 

The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 

You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 

You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.

"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.

"I’m sorry," you say softly.

You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."

#🏷frompaige #mark lee smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #mark lee x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct x reader #kpop smut #nct hard hours #nct oneshot

[quadrantadvisor]

Alright new Jason Todd headcanons in a dpxdc setting:

Danny is a "liminal" ghost, rather than a "half" ghost. He's alive and dead at the same time. (He's like Jesus Christ (in the church denomination I grew up in), fully ghost and fully human.) Danny, in human form, can go through a ghost shield, because he IS a living human.

Jason, however, is a reanimated corpse. He isn't a ghost, wouldn't have a ghost core, etc, he has a normal human system that runs ON ectoplasm. Jason CANNOT go through a ghost shield, because he is always an ectoplasmic entity. Danny can go through the Fenton Ghost Catcher and be split into a ghost and a human; if Jason went through the ghost catcher, he would straight up die.

(For my purposes I'm gonna say that Jason became an ectoplasmic entity upon his resurrection, but wasn't very stable. Dunking in the Lazarus pit stabilized his system but also poisoned his ectoplasm.)

I do think that Jason could learn certain ghost abilities if he learned to harness his ectoplasm, especially if they detoxed him off the Lazarus waters. He's probably already enhancing his stealth and strength in ways he hasn't really noticed. I think he's held back by the amount of physical matter he's lugging around, so maybe he couldn't fly, but I'm imagining temporary invisibility, or intagibility of like, a limb at a time. Maybe he can't walk through walls, but in a fight he can dodge by instinctively making the targeted part of his body intangible.

#i saw someone call jason a 'revenant' in a fanfic once and that is juicy as hell so I'm stealing that- that's what he is in this au #Jason's ectoplasm does react to other ectoplasmic entities so they can sense eachother #but for ghosts he's fucking weird because he doesn't have a core for them to resonate with or w/e #danny would probably think that he's another halfa/liminal at first but the more time they spend together the more that doesn't add up #so I know that I'm trying to give Jason ghost powers but honestly this whole thing is kind of a bum deal for him #he gets all of a ghost's weaknesses and barely any of the benefits #honestly I'm conceptualizing this as more of a disability than a superpower #discovering that youre less alive than you thought you were and you're technically just a walking talking corpse running on supernatural goo #is fucked up and creepy and upsetting! #and it's something that he would have to come to terms with before he could start exploring what new opportunities it might give him #and i think that's really interesting #it's part of why I love messing with Jason in dpxdc stories so much #danny is fully ghost and fully human and he never feels like he fits in anywhere already #Jason is not quite human and not quite ghost so you can imagine how that would go for him #anyways i think they should be best friends and visit frostbite in the realms to make sure jason is healthy and also they should maybe kiss #and listen to the black parade together and talk about dying and stuff #danny fenton #jason todd #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny phantom #dc #batfam #my rambles

[yuri-is-online]

Ranted about this elsewhere already buuuuut . . . Hot take: OB Jamil keeping the reader as a pet/slave is pre-relationship.

Jamil's whole shtick is wanting to free himself from servanthood and getting the equality, freedom, and respect he deserves. Why would he not want that for his lover? Hell one of his biggest insecurities is trapping them with him under the Asims and being unable to give them the life they deserve.

A Jamil who's in a relationship where he 10000% smitten, comfortable, and genuinely open with s/o would rip his own heart out before even thinking of trapping them or seeing them as lesser. This goes double for his overblot (we've seen with the Shround's that it is possible for overblots to do things out of love).

So what doth thou thinketh of this scenario: OB!Jamil who's just finished sending the gang to the middle of the desert having the immediate thought "FUCK YEAH! Now I can finally spoil my beloved!"

OB!Jamil just throwing embarrassment out the window and spoiling the absolute shit out of his lover. I'm talking shameless PDA, no filter whatsoever about how much he loves them, giving them just about anything they could want. Feeling hungry? Here's a feast of your favorite dishes and Jamil is the one feeding you. Little chilly? You're now dressed in enchanted fine silk fit for a queen and cuddled up next him. Worried about your friends out in the desert? Now you get an adorable pouty overblot asking for your attention and making it really hard to say no. Ironically any manipulation he pulls will be the light hearted kind he usual do to get their attention. Also worth mentioning that Jamil is calling them every pet name under the sun while being kissed constantly by the snakes.

Just Overblot Jamil willingly and happily going full malewife mode for his Sultana.

God it will be hard to convince him that overblotting it bad, won't it?

You know I usually have a hard time wrapping my head around Yuu being in a relationship with any of the ob boys pre blot, but the events make it pretty clear that the actual order the blots happen in is pretty flexible σ(￣、￣=) so after squaring that in my head:

Pre-Relationship OB Jamil would want to keep Yuu in a cage because he subconsciously knows they aren't his but he still feels the desire to keep them close. The walls of the cage area physical manifestation of Jamil's emotional repression surrounding his feelings towards Yuu but that's not we're brainrotting about today~

Overblot! Jamil (and just Jamil in general really) is pretty hard to convince that overblotting was a bad idea. Granted he doesn't want to die so yes he'll agree that's bad once he comes to his senses but for now he's really pleased with himself. Finally, he gets to have your attention all to himself and there is no one to judge or interrupt him. He made sure to throw the biggest annoyances across the desert, you can stay right here with him in his embrace exactly where you belong. Being kissed by the snakes is such a cute concept TᴖT He has so many things he's wanted to say, so many many kisses he wanted to give, times he's wanted to touch and hold you that he was never able to do because of his place in the world. I like the idea of Overblot Jamil dancing with Yuu while he sings the sappiest love songs imaginable. Anything to make up for lost time, now that he's free there's so much he can finally give you.

That's what you've wanted this whole time too... right?

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader

[obsessedwithceleste]

Mattheo Riddle Headcannons

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Being the son of the Dark Lord is no easy task. Obviously.

Growing up, Mattheo had very limited contact with other people, which stunts his social skills a lot, especially with his peers

Once he breaks out and has the ability to meet other people, he's 100% an extrovert because he feels like he has to make up for everything that he missed out on

Growing up alone though made him very independent and self sufficient

Lots of trust issues, lots of abandonment issues

But he's also very bad at picking up on social cues, and reading other people's emotions

He grew up being outwardly judged by everyone around him, which caused him to develop a sort of apathetic attitude as a buffer

This gives him a sense of freedom because if he doesn't care about other's opinions, he can do whatever he wants, they'll judge him either way, so why not do what makes him happy

Mattheo also has a deep internal rage

Like, level 11 out of 10 on the scale of anger issues

He bottles up all his emotions and frustration with the world, often lashing out and exploding at the smallest triggers

His frustration mostly stems from the fact that it's not fair that he's suffering for the actions of his father. Because at the end of the day, he's still innocent in all of it

This is also why he's particularly spiteful and disdainful of authoritarian figures

He simply doesn't owe them anything

At Hogwarts it's hard for him at first. It's pretty clear that he didn't have much of a childhood and that he was forced to grow up much too fast

And once again, he finds himself being judged by everyone, so nothing new

His biggest pet peeve is when someone complains about a minor "tragedy" from their childhood, because he's absolutely certain that he had it worse

Lowkey victim complex™️

He's able to eventually bond closely with Theodore Nott, sharing a lot of similar childhood trauma (we <3 trauma bonding) and surprisingly Lorenzo Berkshire who shares his fuck-all mentality

Many assume that he's a malicious bully, based solely on his last name, but he's really more of a chaos instigator

He rebels against authority and stands up for what he might find to be an injustice, but he'd never go after someone without cause

Hogwarts is one of the first places he's able to truly act his age

He joins the Slytherin quidditch team,

He's a beater (which is kind of therapeutic as it allows him to let out a lot of his anger)

Often skives off of class,

He's not book smart like Theo, but makes up for it with street smarts

And likes to pull Theo into the fray simply because he can

This is also how he gets his reputation for frequently sleeping around to put it nicely

Mattheo grew up with a distinct lack of affection from those around him which causes him to search out any hint of it that he can find

He doesn't really use girls per se, he just doesn't quite understand the concept of love

But when Mattheo falls, he falls hard

The first time he catches feelings, he's absolutely terrified that he's under the influence of a love potion

Very confused, very upset, and denies it to the ends of the Earth

But once he comes around, he's all in

He doesn't like to think of himself as jealous, just territorial.

Jealousy is when something isn't yours and you want it. But you belong to him, and he'll be damned if he doesn't defend his territory

He also isn't shy at all when it comes to PDA, simply because he wants everyone to know what's his

Definitely love bombs, but he doesn't know what that means

Won't bat an eye before hexing someone for looking at you too long (will act innocent and pretend it wasn't him)

Honestly probably would not be the best partner initially because he's so used to being independent

And would likely try to hide a lot of his anger and emotions from you because his biggest fear would be being judged by someone he loves

It would take a lot of time and effort to work through, but Mattheo would be willing to put in the work because he's determined to have the one thing his father never could

#slytherin boys #slytherin #matteo riddle #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle headcanons #harry potter universe #my boy desperately needs therapy

[kdinjenzen]

🔥 voice acting

Doing "a voice" is not voice acting. Voice acting is acting. Being able to go "OH BOY" in a voice similar to Mickey Mouse is mimicry and not voice acting. Unless you can take that voice places, make it sad, make it mad, make it emote in a full range - you're just doing a silly voice and not voice acting.

Anyone can voice act, but like every art it involves a lot of hard work and dedication. To quote/paraphrase Ratatouille:

"You must be imaginative, strong-hearted. You must try things that may not work, and you must not let anyone define your limits because of where you come from. Your only limit is your soul. What I say is true - anyone can cook voice act… but only the fearless can be great."

Just because someone has a cool or unique voice doesn't mean they will be a good voice actor. Acting is the most important part. And if you cannot act, you cannot voice act.

Every time someone says they "bought a microphone" and are "ready to voice act" and then get hit with the question of HAVE YOU TAKEN ANY ACTING CLASSES? and they say "lol no why would I need that?" I get so fucking angry. Please stop buying expensive equipment before doing the work on YOURSELF to actually need the expensive equipment.

The "industry standard" equipment isn't the best equipment for the job, it's just what everyone uses because that's what studios ask for. If we could we'd all be using better and cheaper microphones.

Dubbing is hard work. Pre-Lay animation is hard work. Commercial VO is hard work. It's all hard. It's never easy even when voice actors will say "it was easy" we say it in a sense of "that was easier than most things I do, but it is still a difficult job." If you say "it's easy, I could do that" either prove it or sit down and shut up.

[pedge-page]

Imagine baby Sarah angry with Joel for not giving into her asks and wants like idk candy maybe and sides with reader going behind Joel’s back to ask the exact same thing and then in the middle of the day Joel questions how Sarah got a lollipop and reader says that Sarah told her that Joel said yes but to ask reader as well and they then connect the dots to discover that they’ve been played

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Sarah's Bargain

Notes: I’ve derailed from this prompt a little because Sarah’s gotta outsmart all of the adults in the room.

- - - -

Sarah and Joel are walking through the gas station mart when she spots the colorful rack of assorted candy. 

"Daddy, can I have one ring pop?"

"No," he responds plainly, counting the twinkies in his hand and figuring out how many he can get before you yell at him.

"Why not."

He grabs two bottles of Pepsi in one hand before heading over to the check out counter. “Because I said so."

She grumbles and follows close behind him. "If I clean my room--"

"You can't bargain with me. I'm not mom. My answer is no."

She thinks about it for a moment. Then smiles. "Ok Daddy, I understand."

Joel is surprised she acquiesced so quickly. She seems to have gotten over the tantrum phase. Maybe he's doing a pretty good job at this parenting thing after all. 

- 

Later on, you take Sarah along with you to go grocery shopping. "Mom.”

"Yes bubba."

"Dad said if I cleaned my room, I could have a ring pop."

You pause, surveying the special deal for pepsi cans. Despite Joel telling you about the suspicious amount of pepsi that’s been disappearing from his stock, you hadn’t touched any. In fact, you had your own stock that you suspect he’s found out and been stealing from. 

“What?”

“A ring pop,” she repeats. “Dad said if if cleaned my room, I could have one.”

 Thats very uncharacteristic of him to bargain with Sarah.

"He did? So what are you coming to me for?"

"Well he said ONLY if you agreed. Said it was OK but to ask mom first to be sure."

Fuck, making me do the hard decision. Joels always the favorite, and if you say no now, then it’s going to make you the mean mom for no reason. You did see she cleaned her room without being told...

You grab the pepsi case, hoping Joel won't scold you for your own hoarders pile.  

You see the innocent batting of her eyes just as you look over to the candy aisle. “Well if Dad said yes..." 

-

Sarah and Joel are sitting at the table as he unwraps his secret stash of pepsi and Twinkie’s away from you. 

"I asked mom for a ring pop and she said yes,” she mentions while coloring her book.

Joel freezes with half the cream custard in his mouth. “I said—“ 

"Its ok! I told her since you had said no, that she didn't need to get me one. I just wanted to see if she would..."

"You trying to set me up against mom?"

"No..." she adds quickly. "I just... thought it would be an interesting experiment.” She smiles softly, before turning to a very mature, saddened tone. “But then I realized it was wrong and I should have listened to you in the first place. So I didn’t take it because I know you said no."

He thinks about it for a moment. Now you’re going to come to him lecturing about why Sarah doesn't get things when she CLEARLY has a good sense of responsibility, going as far to say no to something she clearly wants just to respect him. She's also smart to test both of you, and even when she could have had it, she still refused. 

“Alright. Just cuz I'm proud of ya.” He dusts the power from his fingers and fishes for his wallet. “You’re a smart kid. But I don't want you testing your mom n’ me for the same answer.  And I don't want to get in trouble with her. I'll get you one. Just this once ok?"

She nods solemnly and crosses her heart. “I won’t say anything.”

-

The next day, you hear Joel and Sarah coming in from the garage and you quickly stash your pepsi behind the potted plant. Your daughter gives you a fat kiss on the cheek before running to the living room and turning on the tv.

You and Joel sit at the table. “I saw the can by the way.” He remarks.

You grunt, pulling the aluminum from its hiding spot and proudly sipping it before crinkling it in your hand. “Well I haven’t been stealing from you. I …have my own stash.”

Joel gasps, offended and surprised by your double standards. “And you yell at me n’ my Twinkies!”

"There better not be any f-ing twinkies in this house Joel Miller," you point at him threateningly.

"Nope none Nada. Haven't seen any." he slowly tucks the new plastic back full of them under his legs.

"The two of you talk about Sarah having cleaned her room without being told. 

"Yeah, I ended up getting her the ring pop,” he tells you.

You furrow your brows.

“?… but, I got her the ring pop. She said you told her I would get if it I also approved? I didn’t want to be the mean mom!"

Fuck, Joel knows you get too worked up on trying to be too nice and cater to Sarah... "What? I told her no first. I never said it was up to you. Then she said she asked you and you said yes, but she refused yours, so I got her it instead for being responsible. I told you to stop worrying about being the nice mom!”

You also know Joel's a sucker for marveling Sarah's experimental mind and working on being responsible over getting what she wants. "She did NOT refuse my offer. what are you talking about?"

Tommy comes in moments later, and waves to the two of you through the open door. Sarah runs up to him near the doorway, and he greets her first suspiciously. They do a funky little hand shake, and you catch a glimpse of something silver going into his palm before she retreats to the living room 

"What are you doing here?" Joel asks.

Tommy shrugs. "Uh nothin’ just.."

"Did you just slip her a ring pop??" You ask incredulously. 

He huffs a guilty sigh. "Sarah asked for a ring pop because you guys told her no, so I went to pick one up at the store as long as she didn’t tell either you...."

Fuck. You and Jole BOTH know Tommy's complex about wanting to be Sarah's favorite uncle (despite the fact you keep reminding him he's her  ONLY uncle and he has no competition).

Above all else, Sarah knows these weakness about each of you. You all look over to her as she unwrap a third ring pop, putting all of them on her one hand and switching back and forth sucking on them. There's an open Pepsi can clutched in her other tiny palm that she sips from, with an exceedingly satisfied grin on her face.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

#joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel and sarah #joel miller fluff #the last of us fluff #the last of us fic #tlou fluff #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #last of us fic #joel dealing with preggo wife

[onesidedradiostatic]

VOX'S TURTLENECK IS RED AND KNIT - a fully comprehensive post

STOP BEING IN DENIAL YOU FOOLS. the poll may be over, and red may have won, but some of you still don't understand so here's a consolidation of all my points, if you haven't noticed this discourse is VERY serious and important

----------------------------------

COLOUR

as I've brought up in that godforsaken poll, vox's turtleneck is red because it matches the colour of val's wings

as you can see, these are both taken from the section of the photo that's under the same shadow

if you want to argue that part of the turtleneck is not the same lighting as val's sleeve

you can see that comparing vox's turtleneck sleeve which is RIGHT ABOVE val's sleeve and therefore DEFINITELY the same lighting, it's still a similar colour. therefore, vox's turtleneck is definitely a similar colour to val's wings and since we know val's wings are red, vox's turtleneck must also be red.

okay but what if val was ALSO wearing orange?

possible! but also I'd put that as less likely since the wings are PART of his body and more likely didn't change colour

not to mention it matches up with vox's eyes which we also know are red, yes it's possible that vox ALSO had orange eyes because he is a screen but what are the odds that both vox and val for some reason originally had orange eyes and orange wings respectively then changed to red? it's more likely that they were always red and the photo is just washed out to make it look orange.

however, I do accept people who see all the red stuff as orange because at least you admit the colours match, also admire the dedication to doubling down on orange

THE LIGHTING ON VOX'S TURTLENECK! IT'S CLEARLY YELLOW!

yellow is easily debunked because there are actual yellow things present in the photo we can compare to! gonna be reiterating from a previous post

see the heart on val's belt? we KNOW that's yellow

now let's go back to our favourite picture

that's the boy! let's start comparing it

val's inner left sleeve matches up with the yellow heart! therefore it is also yellow, and unless val is wearing mismatched inner sleeves, this indicates his right inner sleeve is ALSO yellow

so all of these! they are yellow!

and we can see, said yellow does not match vox's turtleneck at all, not even when I pick out the lighting on it, it doesn't match the turtleneck in any of the lighting, therefore vox's turtleneck is most DEFINITELY not yellow.

it being red also matches up with vox's current colour palette being blues and reds and it makes sense that he had the same palette back then too.

if you believe vox's eyes and val's wings are both also orange, it could be orange. I can live with that. but it is most likely red.

----------------------------------

okay but what about the stripes?

THERE ARE NO FUCKING STRIPES Y'ALL DRIVE ME INSANE. MORE INSANE THAN YELLOW TRUTHERS.

THOSE VERTICAL LINES YOU SEE. those are BLACK LINES, which are the OUTLINE, REPRESENTING THE KNITTING PATTERN.

I SWEAR SOME OF YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW SWEATERS WORK.

but when I colour-pick it it's not black!

my fucking god PLEASE tell me you know how low quality black lines work. time to reiterate more points from my previous posts!

you understand that the outline around val should be black right?

but would you take a look at that, colour picking it makes it look like just a darker colour of the inner colour. why? BECAUSE IT'S A SMALL PICTURE THAT'S OVERALL IN LOW QUALITY, so the black gets thinned down to hell that you can't even see the black anymore. BUT IT'S STILL A BLACK OUTLINE. THE SAME LOGIC APPLIES TO VOX'S SWEATER

let's use a normal line as an example

here is a black line

here is that same black line resized down to a lower quality.

NOTICE HOW IT'S GREY NOW? are we going to insist it was never black now because it's sized down?? NO. IT'S JUST A LOWER QUALITY BLACK LINE THAT LOSES OPACITY AS IT'S SIZED DOWN. THIS IS THE LOGIC I GO BY.

okay but what if they were black vertical stripe--

YOU ARE KILLING ME NO IT IS NOT. IT'S A SWEATER IT MAKES MORE SENSE FOR IT TO BE A KNITTING PATTERN THAN VERTICAL STRIPES. but okay. at least you still see the same thing as me you just... interpret... it differently.

but I swear on god, the black lines represent the KNITTING PATTERN, it makes MUCH more sense for it to be that because it's a sweater.

arguments about orange or yellow going together better with vox's jacket are extremely irrelevant to this argument when 90% of red things in hazbin hotel would probably look better if they weren't red. I'm not arguing that it even looks better! I'm just arguing that it is what it is and you should ACKNOWLEDGE THE TRUTH.

AND THEREFORE. THE STUPID FUCKING TURTLENECK IS RED AND KNIT. I REST MY CASE.

#osrs.txt #vox's stupid fucking turtleneck #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox hazbin #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #if you've been following along these probably sound familiar #I just wanted to put them all together #now when vox walks up with his stupid fucking red turtleneck in season 2 I can point to this post and say I was right

[flowerandblood]

I don't like many of the authors' decisions here – sometimes their tropes, sometimes their choice of how they present events, dialogues, sometimes their characters, relationships between them or their appearance. It's not a bad thing. I have a right to feel this way.

But I would never tell them about it. Not because I don't have the courage to do it but because it would give them nothing, nothing good. You criticise when someone asks for it – when someone doesn't, then you should keep quiet.

Why? Because perhaps someone does not want this criticism and it's their right too. I, for example, don't care and I don't want to know how much someone dislikes something in my work. I don't need the fake appreciation of others, just as others don't need mine.

If I don't like someone's stories, I just leave them alone. God bless all of them! Write and be happy.

No one here is an oracle or judge, and some people feel that way. If you don't like what the authors are writing and their choices, give them a holy peace or else all you'll achieve is that they'll be discouraged from writing – they'll think: maybe nobody wants to read this after all, look at my characters, maybe it's pointless, maybe everyone thinks about me and my writing this way.

Sowing doubt and passive humiliation is very popular here for some reason and I find it incredibly annoying. People don't know when to shut their mouths and when their private opinion to which they are, after all, entitled hurts others, making them uncomfortable.

Our right to free speech should not cut someone's wings and mock them. This is an expression of disrespect and basic culture.

Not everyone has to want to change, to develop if it is not their profession but a simple hobby.

Anonymity does not make malicious gibberish sound any smarter, and a large audience or reactions under posts does not make anyone entitled to post an opinion in which they criticise works of others for their choices.

"Why do you write with only small letters? It's so annoying. This character would never do this, are you dumb? Aemond would never betray his family! Oh nooo, next Visenya on a big dragon? Why these OC's are so boring? Reader insert is just for you because you are desperate to fuck. Why do your OC is fat? Why do your OC is slim? Why do make your OC look like this, why won't you try something new? Why do you put Alys in your story as a third wheel when she is Aemond's real love interest?"

Shut. The fuck. UUUUUUP. GOD.

You say – you don't agree, don't read, I have a right to my opinion. Well, I say: your right does not absolve you from thinking about the feelings of others.

You are hypocrites. You cry and make a hiatus when someone sends you a nasty anon writing that you write crap, but you devote 2,000 words on your blog to why a certain trope doesn't make sense, why other authors don't have a right to make their OC's look the way they want.

What you write is not private, it's public. Who are you writing it to? Is it an expression of your frustration? Those you write it about can read it. They may feel very, very bad about it, they can think to stop writing at all or make themselves to do something against their will. But that's not your concern anymore, right?

Taking responsibility for your own words only when it's convenient for you is an expression of immaturity and that's what I see in this fandom – most people here are afraid of adulthood and the clash with it. Because in adulthood everything we do has consequences to face.

But it's easier to say that we simply have the right to express our opinion, no matter how hurtful and unfounded it may be.

I want to be clear – I will see anyone reblogging or write this kind of posts – I will block them. Even if I like you, if you are with me for a long time. I don't want to see this kind of toxic behavior on my wall ever again. Enough is enough.

#hotd fandom #gibbering about others oc's #gibbering about aemond x strong niece trope #gibbering about readers inserts #gibbering about smut in the fics #shut #the fuck #upppppp #plz #writing #writing advice #writing fandom #writers #criticism #writers on tumblr #fandom

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (12)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: You drew up some good faith treaties

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Developing Stockholm Syndrome, Aemma is becoming an unreliable narrator.

Tag list: @callsignwidow

Aemond is gone, but Vhagar returns after two days time, reuniting with Vermithor. Their happy roars echo across King's Landing and it fills your heart with a bittersweet emotion you can't quite name. Is Aemond thinking of you at all in Harrenhal? You know you're thinking of him. Constantly. The smell of him lingers on the bed sheet, on your clothes, and on your skin, fading with each passing day. You feel uneasy without your husband around.

On the third day of his absence a letter arrives strapped to Vhagar's saddle. It's a letter from Aemond, written in High Valyrian. He tells you about Daemon's attempted siege and how Harrenhal withstood it all. He tells you how House Strong no longer stands, their ancestral home now belonging to him. He tells you about a woman. Alys Rivers. She's a supposed bastard of Lyonel Strong, older than Harwin and Larys, but he's taken her as a prisoner of war.

It doesn't sit right with you, the way he talks about this woman. His tone is almost... love sick.

He tells you that you would like her, and you decide to be the judge of that.

Getting out of the Keep won't be simple. None of the guards will allow you to just walk out the front gate... plus, you're certain Aegon himself is still keeping an eye on you. All of your secret tunnels are gone, sealed up by Aemond weeks ago. So, what's left? How can you escape?

Vermithor's loud roar reverberates through the Keep and you dash to the window of your bedchamber. He soars through the sky, dancing along with Vhagar in graceful arches. You let out a low pitched whistle and his head turns in your direction, mighty wings changing his path mid-swoop. Before you can question yourself, you climb on the window ledge and jump, hoping Vermithor understands what you need him to do.

The months the two of you spent apart melt into nothing as you crash on his large back, quiet understanding passing between dragon and rider. Vhagar comes up on your left. Her eyes are old and knowing as she dips her head towards you and takes the lead. You aren't sure which direction Harrenhal is, but both dragons seem to understand what it is you need.

Who it is you need.

Harrenhal is not a pleasant place by any stretch of the imagination. Death seems to linger in the very air, pressing down on your chest and making you want to run and hide. You don't though. You dismount Vermithor with your head held high, already missing the warmth and familiarity of him. He remains as close to you as he can, head swinging back and forth as if waiting for an ambush.

"Easy," you tell him with a gentle pat. "Stay with Vhagar. You'll keep each other safe."

Vermithor huffs at you, smoke billowing from his nostrils. He'll listen only until he senses you're in danger.

As you enter what remains of Harrenhal, you're greeted by Aegon and Aemond's soldiers. Each one bows to you with sheepish expressions. It's as if they know something you don't.

"Where is my husband?" Your gaze flits from soldier to soldier, none of them willing to speak up. "Well?"

"The Great Hall. m'lady," one finally says.

You march past the soldiers, eyes fixed firmly ahead, tuning out the whispers of the men as you leave. Tears sting your eyes but you won’t allow yourself to be humiliated further by crying in front of them. Any of them. Your cheat of a husband included. Because why else would the soldiers stare at you with such pity? Why else would they whisper behind your back? Aemond is fucking the Rivers woman.

There’s simply no other explanation.

“Aemond,” you call out as you enter the Great Hall.

Before you see him you hear a feminine giggle and the soft rumbling of Aemond’s voice.

“Clearly I need to make my presence better known, husband.” Your shoulders tense and you tilt your chin higher as you take in the sight before you. “It seems I took your men off guard… as well as you.”

Aemond doesn’t move from his seat at the head of the high table, doesn’t move to put Alys Rivers off his lap, doesn’t look at you with anything less than anger. In fact, if it weren’t for the rise and fall of his chest you could almost believe the shock of seeing you sent him into the arms of the Stranger.

“Aemma,” he finally breathes out your name, shoving Alys to the side. “Why are you here? How are you here? Aegon should’ve had you under lock and key.”

“It seems the bond between dragons is stronger than we all thought.” You give him a non answer. “Did you know Vhagar has been coming to see Vermithor since you departed? She led us here, the smart girl. I wonder what she wanted me to find?”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“And you shouldn’t be fucking a woman who isn’t your wife! You despise your brother for the very thing you’re now doing. So what is it, Aemond? Are you the honorable man I’ve always cared for or are you a liar no better than his brother?”

Aemond’s violet gaze seems to pierce your soul as he stalks toward you. “Right now I’m a man worried for his wife’s safety. What do you think will happen when they find you missing at the Keep?”

“What do you think will happen when I tell your mother her favorite son is no different than her eldest?” You don’t know why you’re saying these things. All you know is that you want Aemond to hurt. You want to hurt him.

He takes a deep breath, eyes shutting briefly. “You don’t understand what’s happening here. We need Alys-“

“Oh, we do? I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware we needed someone to keep your bed warm while-“

“Leave!”

But his order isn’t directed at you. Instead, Alys (who had been listening very intently to the conversation) offers a quick curtesy and leaves the Great Hall. You stand completely still and quiet, waiting for the swish of her skirts to disappear completely. Once it does you turn back to Aemond who still wears a thunderous expression.

You clear your throat. “I’ll give you one minute to explain what I saw and what your grand plan seems to be.”

“And after I explain?”

“I… haven’t decided. We’ll see once you explain.” Part of you is ready to go back to Vermithor and not even wait for an explanation. It’s the same part of you that is vaguely considering running back into Aegon’s arms. But you won’t do either of those things until Aemond has a chance to explain.

Aemond nods as if reading your mind. “There are whisper that Alys Rivers is a witch with a penchant for seeing the future. We need her. Having her power on our side could end the war tomorrow.”

“End the war… and in this plan, does my mother come out of the war alive?”

“That depends on what Alys sees.”

“You’re giving this strange woman a lot of power and importance.”

Aemond sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist. “It’s a command from the King. I’m to keep her happy and ensure her loyalty.”

“So she gets to sit on your lap and play the part of a princess while I’m locked away?”

His smile is wry when he says, “you don’t currently appear to be locked away.”

You don’t respond to his attempt at levity. “I don’t like this, Aemond.”

“I know. I know. Just trust me, please. Alys will never compare to you.”

You aren’t sure if you believe him, but for now you’ll leave the matter alone.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you

[skullvgirl]

a strange dream | barou

incl. barou 🎀 ( he would kill me )

warnings. completely sfw, fluff, school!au, fem reader, very much ooc, slow burn

an's. i missed him so much i had to revisit

BAROU probably hasnt got any interest in you before your relationship, not in a bad way but lets be honest—he's a soccer addict, he definitely wouldn't notice you until well, he did.

you're both sitting in math class (which did i mention had one hell of alot of students) and someone from the other side of the room asks to pass a note to you, rumor has it they've got a crush.

eventually the note ends up in the large hands of Barou Shouei and he's of course expected to pass it along to you but doesn't see anyone ahead of him expecting to receive it from him. he's confused—who the hell was yn ?

its his bad—he really wasnt to familiar with anything not soccer related.

he looked around, then finally decided to give the piece of paper back to the person he got it from—whoever that was.

you look at barou confused, so the paper was for you? you had originally gave it too him because you weren't sure if the people mumbling in the back of the classroom were really talking about you or not.

you opened your mouth to whisper-yell at him, but he wasn't paying attention to you anymore, his eyes trained on the teacher once again.

you uncrumpled the paper, trying to be as quiet as possible in the dead silence, but with no luck.

"yn?!"

shit

"yes miss?", you hid the paper under the desk, trying not to make eye contact with the 28 other students that had eyes on you.

"care to share with the class whats so important that you need to be passing notes in my class?"

fuck

reason #1 why you really hated this class, your math teacher was a fucking bitch.

'mean girl giggles' echoed throughout the room, barous eyes paying special attention to what you were about to do.

you dreaded the feeling of being forced to stand up in front of the entire class and read aloud whatever was written on the small note.

"get to it missy"

oh fuck off

you looked around the classroom trying to assess anyone who may have been distressed or embarrassed but with no luck, everyone seemed to be waiting on you.

weird...

"im serious yn. if you dont start reading in the next 10 seconds im going to—"

"no, no thats okay—i-im reading"

for whoever wrote me this, i am so sorry.

you cleared you throat in preparation for the humiliation you were about to face, curses be upon you miss peterson.

"hi, i think your really cute, we should go out sometime together, from..."

your heart stopped.

oh no this cant be right

"thats it."

"thats it?" the teacher probed, slowly making her way towards you.

"that it. i-it just says from your secret admirer after that nothing else".

your math teacher narrowed her eyes, looking closely at your expression—she didn't buy it.

dont breakeyecontactdont break eye contactdont breakeyecontactdontbreakeyecontactdontbreakeyecontact—

"really..."

"really!" you broke eye contact.

she pointed her nose upwards, probably as high as possible and began walking towards your desk.

"alright then i wanna see it, i need to have it confiscated"

"what?!, why?" oops you said that kinda loud. the class whom had previously lost interest when you finished reading turned back towards you and miss peterson now intrigued.

"well why not?! it was a distraction in class and now it needs to be taken away to make sure it wont be a distraction again...!"

but that doesn't make sense, if you care so much about us passing notes you should take our notebooks not the gosh dang note !

"but that doesn't make sense—" but you didn't get a chance to finish as the teacher viciously snatched the paper from you and spun around back towards her desk.

you sat down and burried your hands in your face, you couldn't watch this.

"oh this looks fun...says it's from barou shouei, not what i was expecting...not what i was expecting at all..."

fucking kill yourself, PLEASE

the class, which had previously been dormant erupted in a series of raging giggles and screams—shocked at the reveal of who the note was from.

a soccer player.

it was no secret in BLLK High that nobody—under any circumstance—was to mess with a soccer player. they had a bit of a reputation going on. even the nice ones.

" 'cuse me?" a commanding and masculine voice emerged from your left side and you turned as quickly as possible to the over 6 foot ( 182 cm ) tall man trying to explain yourself.

fuck, one day you were seriously gonna kill your math teacher.

"no, no no i promise it's not like that—i seriously don't know who made this i promise it wasn't from me and i know it wasn't from you—"

"you're yn ?" he cut you off smoothly, leaning back in his seat ever so slightly.

"huh?"

his knees were facing yours now. "you're yn right? been wondering who that was for the longest, guess i know now, cool."

"huh?"

okay now you were confused—about multiple things actually. #1, barou shouei, the man you'd been sitting next to for almost a full year now had yet to learn your name untill just now which is—gosh, just outrageous even for a soccer player

and #2 he wasn't toltally angry and going to kill you like everyone said he would have, should you make a fool of him?

no seriously someone explain what was happening.

you didnt get a chance to ponder on your thoughts much longer however, the bell rang loudly in your ear and soon everyone including yourself was making way for the door out the classroom.

what the fuck just happened, what the actual fuck just happened.

"heyy ! yn over here !" you didnt realize it but you apparently had auto-piloted your way all the way through lunch and was now being called over by people you've never talked to a day in your life—and you knew exactly what it would be about.

could this get any worse

you were about to find out. "yes...?" you asked, tray still in hand while you stood awakwardly by the trash can near the lunch table who called you over.

"soo—wait first sit down, we're friends we're friends, sit down first" one of the girls said, patting a seat next to herself eagerly.

you looked at the eyes on you and quickly made a decision to move.

there definitely here to ask me about him. it can't be that bad right? i think her name is ashley? i don't know maybe this'll be fun, maybe they'll be nice.

"so have you guys had sex?"

"what?! no—"

"have you guys even ever kissed yet?"

"no—"

"we used to talk you know", this one was from ashley, a pretty blonde haired girl who's blue eyes sparkled like marbles.

"really?"

she was attractive that for sure but and you could definitely see why some people would wanna date her but barou? not so much.

"really"

like in what world would some super macho super mysterious soccer guy get the hots for some popular pretty blonde girl? not to mention an obnoxious pretty blonde girl.

gosh i sound like a pick me right now, who knows maybe they really did talk

"didn't even know her name" barou said, cracking his neck from side to side.

"seriously man?" asked isagi, popping a fry in his mouth.

"dead serious"

this was the soccer table, a table where only the best of best players would sit for lunch, not that it was official or anything—but new students were warned not to go near The Table anyway.

"so you did ask yn to prom?"

"no bachira, i didn't ask her how many times to i have to say that, i barely know her anyways"

"untill today" kunigami confirmed.

"until today" barou repeated.

"would you though?" chigiri asked, he glanced over at your table—you were pretty that much was obvious but it was barou we're talking about, who knows what he thought of you.

"nah, couldn't."

"why not? shes not ugly" nagi questioned albeit a bit insensitively.

"shes not but..." he trailed off, stringing his eyes from nagi to you, she looks kinda...

"but what"

"i don't want her thinking we're dating after prom or somethin', gotta focus on the game."

"what if i did then, think she'd say yes?" it was reo speaking now who was now also looking at your table.

"nah, your uncanny resemblance to a donkey might turn her off"

The Table laughed as reo scowled at the other players, he didnt find it very funny.

"shut the fuck up shouei, i didn't hear her accepting your undying love now did i?"

"thats because i never really asked her dipshit"

"your point! still better than knowing your rejected as a default"

"is it though?" barou was almost smiling at the purple headed boy.

"oh really? watch me"

the table made boyish "ooo"-ing sounds and reo stood up confidently.

shouts erupted from the table, causing the whole cafeteria to turn towards the players, they payed them no mind however, only staring intently at where reo was walking.

"look, look, look! one if them is coming over here right now!"

"really?!"

you whipped your head around towards where the whole cafeteria's attention had been directed.

nononon, this cannot be happening. you seriously did not need another soccer players thinking you were some freak weirdo because someone else wanted to be messy!

"thats reo, he's super fucking rich, i heard he has a whole two backyards !"

"and an a theater room!"

great, and it was a rich snob kid too.

"does yn sit here?"

your table said nothing, even the loud ashley kept quiet while he was talking. everyones heads turned to you, waiting expectantly for you to say something.

"yeah thats me..." you said meekley.

reo smiled and curled his finger towards himself a few times, asking you to come to him.

this is so awakward

you stood up silently and walked over to where reo was. he didn't stop directing him towards you until you were standing right up against him, close enough to where he could grab your jaw and yank your ear towards his mouth.

"you're hot, go out with me"

your eyes bludged, and your heart accelerated way more than it should have. that was NOT what you were expecting.

reo let go of your face, his hands were in his pockets as he waited for your answer, he looked confident tou would say yes. and most people would, but this was a soccer player we were talking about—and this one specifically was known for being super rich, super smart and a super hoe. three things you couldn't be bothered to even try giving a chance with.

you glanced behind him trying to peer at the damage that had been done.

holy shit the whole fuking cafeteria is looking

"so?"

you were snapped back into reality as reo looked at you, still waiting for an answer. it was pretty obvious what you were going to say.

"no. im sorry but no, i hardly know you and you're really not my type, sorry."

your table made all types of noises as they watched the now humiliated boy bite a scowl and walk back too his table.

you quickly sat back down and watched as The Table made fun of reo's rejection. all the players were laughing but you were only looking at one.

"said i wasn't her type". The Table erupted in laughter, all the players except reo cackling like animals.

"fucking told you so, at least get to know the girl before you start trying to hit on her" isagi joked, slapping reo on the back repeatedly.

"no for real, dont know what made you think she would fall for you in a day, not all girls are so easy you know" kunigami shook his head.

"what did you say too her anyways?" nagi asked now curious as to what got him such a harsh rejection anyways.

"didn't say nothing, js asked her if she wanted to go out, said no, that's it." reo reiterated bitterly.

"knowing him it was probably something like 'youre hot, lets go out'" barou said offhandedly, distracted by the feeling of eyes on him.

"you could hear?" reo asked, now confused.

The Table went silent for a moment and isagi burst out laughing when he realized what reo had just said.

"so you did really say that?!"

the emmbarassment for reo only cotinued further but barou wasn't paying attention to that. the eyes from before were still on him.

it was you.

cute...

BAROU isnt really much of a romantic either, he hasn't got the headspace for it like he does for soccer, so of course—he's not seeking the love. the love is seeking him.

1 week later

you sat quietly in the school library studying like a madman for finals, it was just near the end of the school year and you were determined to get good marks on all of the subjects.

the library was the most perfect and quiet place to relax and work at the same time—without any distractions or problems to bother you from your job.

"excuse me?"

you glanced up to where the voice was coming from and your heart felt like it was going to explode.

it was none other than barou shouei in the flesh.

a whole week, a whole week you had managed to somewhat avoid his presence and pretty much ignore him during math ( your teacher denied you request to switch spots ) it was going fine untill—well, now.

"can i borrow your computer charger? mine just died and a left mine at home"

that was it?

you didn't really know what to expect from the man though. he was known to be pretty brutal on tbe field maybe you were assuming he'd be the same in real life.

although i guess i shouldn't think that considering how chill he was over the fake confession and all of that...

"oh yeah sure, I uh can let your borrow it no problem"

"thanks"

barou took your charger without another word and walked back over too his seat.

the racing in your heart was begining to subside, that wasn't so bad...

you shifted to get comfortable in your seat and began studying once again, right now where was i...

"excuse me?"

and just as you were getting comfortable. barou shoei again.

"yes?"

"sorry im back so soon but, could i sit here for a little bit. the outlet by my table isnt working for some reason" he said it in a polite tone but seemed eager for an answer, he was probably in a rush to get as much study time in before practice like most athletes were.

he really isnt as scary as i thought he'd be...

"yeah of course that's fine, it's better this way anyway, wont forget you had it in the first place ya know" you smiled moving your belongings over to make room for his.

"thanks"

barou set his things down and soon enough a static silence ensued over the both of you, not that you minded though. you still needed to get work done and it was better he wasn't attempting to make conversation with you. it is a bit awkward though...

"you color coded your pens"

the voice that emmited from the other side of the table almost made you forget who was there.

"i did, why?"

"nice, i did too"

barou didnt wait for an answer, but instead pulled out a all black pencil pouch to reveal all seven colors of the rainbow line up in order.

jeez, i just think it looks cool, his has all the pen hooks facing up too, ocd much?

that wasn't the main point though, what was more important was his sticker—on thst rested sturdy on his bag. "you watch graves anatomy too?"

he looked surprised when you mentioned the show, and nodded his head appropriately. "yeah, and im all caught up too, all 22 seasons and counting."

"holy hell, im only on season 12 how to even time for that—aren't you always having games and stuff, scince your on varsity and all..."

barou quirked an eyebrow, "mm you know your stuff—i make it work"

now it was your turn to make a face "you make it work...really, its that easy?"

no. the absurbant amount of school work i have is fucking killing me right now plus i've got sisters too take care of so no, it's definitely not easy

thats not what he said though.

"yup, real easy." he nodded his head and although you didn't buy it, it was hardly your place to nag. he didn't seem like someone you should nag.

"uh huh.." you shook your head up and down slow and repeatedly, "for sure, for sure"

"what you don't believe me?" barou moved his chair closer to yours, so close in fact you think your knees were touching, his arms bulged as he rested his hands on his head ; it was hot nice seeing him in a position that wasn't so straight .

"no i do, you seem really responsible im sure you're great at 'making it work' " you put a thumbs up.

gosh, could you be anymore awakward...

"oh im responsible ? you would know that im responsible?" barou questioned, leaning even closer on his arms towards you.

is he...flirting with me?

you laughed and covered your mouth with your hand leaning slightly away as he got closer.

"i mean yeah" you paused to swipe away the nonexistent dust from your eyes, you just couldn't hold the eye contact.

come on, dont get shy now yn.

"people talk, i guess."

"do they?"

"they do" you nodded your head firmly up and down, since it was the only thing you were sure you could do at the moment.

"mh"

mmh?!? the fuck does that mean ??

"so yn i wanna ask you a question" barou leaned back as he said this, finally returning to his normal position.

holy shit my heart was beating so fast, somebody get me on a stretcher and to the hospital NEOW, i am about to blow!

"yeah?"

barou stayed silent for a few moments, thinking deeply about what he was going to say.

"hypothetically..." he paused, staring directly at you.

"hypothetically..." you confirmed.

"hypothetically if someone, other than reo from the soccer team—just as an example lets say...yoichi ! remember hypothetically speaking—asked you out on a date what would your answer be?"

huh?

"what kind of question is that?"

"a hypothetical one" he said matter of factly.

"a hypothetical one, right, well if—hypothetically of course—i was asked out by isagi, om a date that is...i don't know...yeah? I guess i'd day yes?"

"really, you would?" he looked surprised and you suddenly felt alarmed, was that a bad thing or something??

"yeah? i mean no, not really—maybe not if he asked the way your friend did..."

"mhm"

??? again, what does that mean?

A moment of silence passed between the two of you and you tried and failed at going back to the work you were supposed to be doing in the first place.

"what about chigiri?" he said suddenly.

"chigiri? what do you me—"

"chigiri. pretty, has red hair, plays on varsity and is super fast? chigiri. would you say yes too him?"

"i mean, maybe, yeah he's definitely not ugly and i guess if i knew him well enough I would probably say yes—why are you asking me this?"

barou said nothing and suddenly, the strangest thing began to happen—he looked at you smiling—a large, uncanny smile resembling a creepypasta monster formed from on his face, your heart began to beat but for the wrong reasons.

"wake up yn" it was definitely barou's voice but it sounded far.

"huh?" you couldn't move, and you now realize you probably couldn't move for a while.

what...is happening...

"wake. up."

your head shot up from your arms, ans you looked around disorientedly.

oh...

up untill about the last 30 seconds you were a bit disappointed it had to end. your dream that is.

"yn", a voice—much deeper than you recall im your fantasies spoke out to you as you felt a tap on your shoulder.

it was barou. the real barou.

"i baroued your charged?" he said holding it out towards you. (an's. IM HALARIOUS LAMOSJKWIS)

"oh. right sorry, thanks." you took the cord from him. but he didn't leave, still looming over you in his tall stature he spoke again.

"uh, you got a little.." he pointed to the corner of his lip, scratching at it in expectation for you to do the same.

you did, softly at first, not really sure what is it he was implying but quickly realized what he meant after you felt a crusty dry substance still left from your unconscious.

oh..

oh !

"ive got drool on my face haven't i" he nodded his head, and you swore you saw grin appear on his face—a real one but he turned and walked away before you could make confirm.

"thanks for the charger yn, see ya later"

his back was facing you now, slowly getting smaller and smaller at he walked away from you.

seriously ! could i be anyless embarrassing for even a second!

im afraid not yn.

because according to barou, he thinks your little moments of embarrassment and humiliation were pretty damn cute.

BAROU is never scared. he hardly ever get worried, he's king and one of the best players in his school, he's top of his class always and struggles—never. so why? why was it now, over some so trivial that he was all thoes things he never gets all at once?

1 week later, in the classroom.

barou felt weird.

the truth is, he didnt need a partner for the social studies project. his teacher was allowing groups of two or singles all the same. his reasoning behind why he wanted a partner is what was scaring him.

after almost an entire year, barou realized that you not only were in his math class, but his social studies as well. and his history, and biology—even his orchestra ( he plays cello in case you were wondering ).

he realized that you were everywhere.

barou, for the first time was recognizing someome else, not on the team, not an adult, but a girl, he was acknowledging a girl, as more than nothing.

it was weird.

"yn."

you peered up at him, wide-eyed and adorable. "work with me on the project"

your eyes, (e/c) and beautiful, got impossibly larger.

"yeah—uh—sure we can"

he gave a thumbs up, and went back to his seat.

what am i doing?

"i dont know, maybe we can exchange numbers instead?"

"yeah thats better, since im hardly on social media anyways"

even though you've got so many followers..

"alright cool"

you and barou were in the library, again. instead of dreaming about his muscles however, you were watching them in real time move for your phone and yours the same.

there wasnt mych said after that, only short words to communicate what part of the project you both were supposed to work on, untill...

"yn?"

"yes" and once again, you were looking at him, wife eyed and adorable.

"i've got a question to ask you"

no way, did i fall asleep again?

you sucked in a breath, and pinched your cheeks, not paying any attention to the words that might come out of his mouth.

"ow!" nope, you were definitely awake.

barou raised an eyebrow and couldn't hold himself in. he burst out laughing and you we're glad the library waw empty, because in all his seriousness—barou's laugh was loud. like the sort of thing you'd been holding in for a while.

"what yn, afraid you're gonna fall asleep again?"

your cheeks heated up an intense amount.

"no..."

"you're funny you know, really funny"

"huh?!" you squeaked, shifting all over in your chair. "what does that mean"

barou leaned in close to your face, so close that your noses were touching.

"it means..." he tilted hid head sidewards, waiting for your permission.

"i think you're the stupidest most adorable person to exist..." you didn't move away.

and like a shock, barous lips were on yours so softly it made it feel very much like a dream, but it wasn't.

an's. i know this is not himmm, he wouldn't even look at you after a supposed fake letter i knooow, i couldn't think of a better way to force it ( i was lazy ) and he's cute let me live.

an's. i rushed the end i knoww, leave me alone. i like writing for personal enjoyment shhhhhh.

#fanfiction #anime #blue lock #skullgirl #bllk headcanons #bllk #bllk fluff #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #bllk x you #baroushoueiheadcannons #barou shoei x reader #barou fluff #barou x you #bllk barou #blue lock barou #barou shouei #barou x reader #barou bluelock #yn x canon #fluff #ooc post #blue lock x female reader #fem reader #female reader #fic #oneshot #suggestive #reo mikage

[gelly-fsh]

Doing that Dr. Who scene but with Jegulus because I remembered I have hands and free will

TW: mentions of torture

___________________/////___________________

When James was suddenly captured while finishing an errand for the Order, he knew he was going to die.

It was a bitter truth, but a truth nonetheless. The Order of the Phoenix didn't do rescue missions, they did not have the enough manpower to even consider it, so even if his friends and family begged Dumbledore on their knees, he knew it would be futile, so now the only thing he could do was to wait for his demise.

It was strange, if he thinks about it. The errand was an insignificant one, he was not supposed to encounter any Death Eaters because he just needed to take some documents to the Ministry, but before he could put a foot in the building, someone stunned him from behind, and then everything went black for a while.

Now that he's awake, confused about how much time has passed, he is trying to make sense of where he was left in. It was clearly a study, but it was pulsating constantly with the dark magic that came off all the cursed objects that were neatly piled in the shelfs beside him. The body bind he was still on didn't let him see much, but he had little time to wonder about anything else as he heard multiple footsteps entering the room.

"Finally, it seems you're awake now" even if he couldn't see him, James recognized the haughty and embarrassingly nasal voice of one if his captors.

"Snivellius, I'm not glad to see you" James replied

"The sentiment is mutual, believe me"

"Lets get this started Severus" a man said, and when he stood in front of James, he could identify him as Rodolphus Lestrange.

"Who are you?" Rodolphus asked

"Go fuck yourself" James replied fiercely. Rodolphus remained unfazed, but when he looked at someone behind James, he felt the hairs of his neck stand in alert, and then he felt it.

"Crucio!"

The pain was blinding. Sirius and even Regulus once told him how it felt to withstand the pain of this unforgivable, how you feel like you have been stabbed and electrocuted in all places at the same time, but no amount of descriptions would have prepared him for the real thing.

It was like that for a while. James refused to answer questions, and the crucioed him, until Rodolphus apparently grew bored of his suffering and just ordered Snape to make him chug down a clear liquid.

"Your name" Rodolphus asked again

"James Potter" he said easily, way too easily, and that when it hit him. Veritaserum.

"Where is Regulus Black now?" Now that question was weird, because Regulus? Why would they inquire specifically about his whereabouts? He is on their side no?

"I haven't the faintest idea" he gritted out, his voice a bit raw from his screaming

"Is that credible?"

"Well, it's true isn't it?" James answered plainly

"Did he leave any objects with you recently?" Snape asked next

"No he didn't" he replied easily again, did Regulus robbed this people or something?

"You're the man he loves no?" Now that questions hurted a lot

"No I'm not" saying it now is not easier than saying it a year ago, when the realization was still fresh, but instead of a bleeding cut, James just feels a throbbing pain that he has become accostumed between the space of his ribs, constant but familiar.

"He is lying!" Snape snarled, looking at Rodolphus, as if he was trying to wordlessly explain his mistake

"Regulus Black does not, and has never, loved me" James was almost glad for the Veritaserum, as it made all the information come out more easily, his mind unable to keep up with the truths his tongue spilled.

It doesn't mean the echoes of his truth didn't scratch the scab that was slowly covering his heart, leaving the wound bleeding and raw, just the exact same way Regulus left it the night he left his life for good.

"You know I'm not lying, you know I am incapable to do so right now" James doesn't know how wise it is to talk back this much to his captors, but he knew he was getting killed anyways, so he would not give them the satisfaction of seeing him cower.

"This is some kind of trick then, there is no way"

"There is no trick" James replied

"My information is correct. I know for a fact you are the man who loves Regulus Black"

"Yes I am, I've never denied it" James said simply, because even after everything, that was one of the only parts James knew he would never change about himself, no matter how hard he tried "But who told you he ever loved me back Snape?" He breathed, and he loved Regulus. He would die soon, loving him still.

"He is Regulus Black" James knew he was getting overworked over this, but this would be the last chance he had to talk about this, so he decided to take it "He doesn't go around falling in love with people. And if you think he would fall so low to be swayed for something like that, you are never getting whatever he took from you back"

"Sir, I assure you he is the perfect bait! If Black finds out he is in danger, he will come to his aid" Snape started to ramble, but James was started to get tired of all this charade.

"Oh, you are but a bloody moron" James sneered "He will not come, you're wasting your time"

"I can assure you Sir, that perhaps he is inside the mansion right now, looking for an opportunity to strike" Snape added

"Well go on and scan the whole bloody mansion then!" James raged "you will find nothing because he is not here"

"Merlin knows where he is right now. But I promise you, he is doing whatever the hell he planned and not giving a single damn about me!" James words flowed out like a stream of water, it flooded his senses, his emotions, he was drowning in the love he had for Regulus that he didnt want to receive or to give back, and everything just felt too much all over again.

"He will not come for me, and I'm fine with that" he sighed, feeling exhausted and defeated, the crucios and the thought of Regulus slowly draining all the fight and bravado he had left

"When you love Regulus, it's like loving the stars themselves! You don't expect a sunset to admire you back" he growled furiously, with hot tears threatening to spill off his eyes "And if I happened to find myself in danger like now, let me tell you Regulus is not stupid enough or sentimental enough-" he needed to take a breath, or a hundred "and he is certainly not in love enough to find himself standing in it with me!"

"This has gotten utterly ridiculous. Snape, you will be punished later for waisting my time, but right now let's just put an end to this quickly, ge doesnt know anything and he admitted to being useless" James could see Rodolphus' distaste in his eyes, how they scanned James as if he were a dirty bug "Dolohov, raise him a little, let's finish this quickly"

He was easily manhandled into the correct position so his whole chest was exposed, James didn't even fight it, afraid that if he did they would not let him die peacefully otherwise.

Even with all the mental preparation, James was not ready to die. At that moment he realized how young and truly inexperienced he really was, a pawn in in a war he didn't cause that was deprived of all the things he should have rightfully lived before, all all the things he had still to live but wouldn't be able to anymore.

Even after everything, even while knowing that Regulus' lack of love for him was part of the reason his life was gonna get cut short, James did not had in within himself to regret it, to regret him.

A million years or just one second could pass, and James would never regret loving that boy.

With him mind set and his conscience at peace, he set his chin high and threw a challenging stare at Rodolphus Lestrange, not moving an inch but quickly closing his eyes afterwards.

"Im sorry" he whispered, and he didnt know to who he was apologizing at all.

His last thought would be Regulus smile.

"Avada -" Suddlenly, Rodolphus started to make a gargled sound before it stopped, and James heard a loud thud falling in the carpet that made him open his eyes in pure astonishment.

Before him was Rodolphus, and he was dead.

"What in Salazar's name-" Dolohov started, just to quickly start doing the same frantic noises Rodolphus made before dropping on the floor too. Snape had a terrified expression while he looked behind James, almost like he had seen a ghost for the first time.

"Please, spare me, Re-" Snape couldn't even finish his begging, because suddenly his head was turned in a funny angle before falling on the floor too.

James didn't want to see, even if a part of him felt a sense of vindictive justice over the fact that his captors were all dead, he didnt know who the culprit was, so James just prepared himself to be murdered by a different hand now.

Until he heard a voice

"Hello, Mon Soleil"

Mon Soleil, that was a nickname he hasn't heard in a while, more than a year if he wanted to be more precise. That nickname took him back to happier times, to happier memories, and it inevitably took him back to the boy that was the reason for it. James opened his eyes at last.

"What are you doing here?" James asked, feeling a bit breathless at the sight of Regulus crouched in front of him "You're not supposed to be here"

"You were in danger, so I came" Regulus was raising his hand, seemingly to cup James face, but even if James yearned to feel Regulus touch against his skin, the piercing pain in his heart and his whole body made him flinch away from his hand

"Why would you do that?" James was not understanding anything at the moment, everything was a blurry of emotions and Veritaserum and so so much confusion that he was sure he sounded pathetic. Nonetheless, Regulus' gaze turned into something softer, and to James surprise, something filled with regret.

"You would never do that, at least certainly not for me" James followed, his whole body was trembling between the pain of the curses and the heartbreak. "I was thinking about you before I died, so maybe I did die and youre just here to make afterlife easier" James muttered, trembling, trembling, trembling.

"James, look at me." The Regulus-thats-not-Regulus said, expression pained "It is me. I came here for you, just for you mon Soleil" it was too much, and nothing was making any sense at all

"STOP!" James screamed "don't use that name. He used to call me that. Don't use that name. Don't-"

"Jamie, I'm so sorry" Regulus said desperately "I'm so so sorry, I will answer all of your questions when we are safe, but we need to leave right now, we need to go"

James eyes tried to concentrate on this Regulus' face, on the soft curls he threaded his hands on multipletimes, the eyes that he lost himself in, the freckles that marred his porcelain skin, everything he could. He knew he looked crazy, but he was trying to absorb all of Regulus that he missed the year they were apart. Even if common sense told him to not go with him, that there was no way Regulus was actually there, all sense of reason always left him whenever he was near, so he slowly reached to take Regulus extended hand, and when their palms united, James felt complete again after so long of being left half empty.

Regulus took his palm with a softness that felt familiar and foreign at the same time as he slowly rised it to him lips, kissing his knuckles softly with a heartfelt "Im sorry" to accompany it.

"Im going to need more than that" James said, his whole arm burned but his mind was clearing from the panicked fog by the second "but that shall wait, let's go"

They had a lot to talk about, Regulus had a lot to explain, but they had to get out of here first.

#jegulus #james potter #james x regulus #regulus black #starchaser #marauders #angst #based on that dr. who scene #mlm yearning #jegulus microfic

[phantom088]

Just a light hearted rant

In other words, things in Danny Phantom that make absolutely no sense.

First off is the on button to the portal being on the inside the portal.

Who's idea was that?Jack, Maddie, I'm looking at you.

Like seriously, Jack and Maddie gave up because the portal didn't work when they plugged it in. In reality they just didn't hit the on button, which was inside the damn portal! How does that even work?

In order to turn that thing on, someone would have to sacrifice their life to push the button...and would you look at that, Danny walked right into that and now he's half dead. Skill issue I guess, but still.

At least it seems Jack and Maddie fixed the issue as in later episodes its shown that there's a on and off button on the outside of the portal, either that or they built 2 sets of buttons in the first place which then makes me wonder why they didn't hit the on button they had on the outside when they plugged the portal in.

The next thing is questioning how Danny got the thermos working.

Yeah, it seems like he transferred some ghostly energy into it as pictured here:

But the show doesn't actually conform that or tell us how Danny got the thermos working. He basically asked the thermos to work and it went "No worries fam, I got you." And it worked.

No explanation, just a "it works now...yay!" Kind of vibe.

My third thing skips quite a few episodes, even a full season and that is the existence of Danielle or Dani.

Here are the questions that come to mind.

How is Dani a female when she is supposed to be a clone of a male? Yes I've heard the trans theory, or maybe to make her stable Vlad had to mess with the XY chromosomes, or even Vlad added some female DNA into her for some reason (probably to make her stable). But non of those ideas completely follow up.

Why is she 12? In cloning cases, the clone doesn't end up a set age, when someone is cloned, their clone starts as a fetus/baby. It should have taken Dani 12 years to you know, become a 12 year old kid. So unless Vlad decided to start cloning Danny when he was 2, I don't see why Dani is 12.

How is she even stable in the first place? Yes, the other clones Vlad made weren't very stable, but it still makes no sense that Dani is stable because cloning is a very delicate process. Usually a clone of someone doesn't end up healthy like Dani, there always has to be some birth defect, and in real life most clones don't even live that long, and that's 2024 talking. Mind you, Danny Phantom was made in the early 2000s, cloning technology probably wasn't as advance then, meaning Dani isn't even supposed to be alive.

Fourth and final thing, and that's the asteroid.

Just the fact that the asteroid is made of a material called ecto-ranium says it all. This material was never mentioned before Phantom Planet, meaning it was made up on the spot, rushed per-se just like how the final episode was rushed!

Even worse is the fact Vlad managed to send the fucking thing hurtling at earth, and the best idea that wveryone could come up with was send two middle aged man to space in a rocket ship, one being half ghost and the other being a inconfidant ghost hunter, both dumped on bad terms, and hoping for the best.

Who would have saw Vlad not being able to make the asteroid intangible coming? Who would have thought his plan failed, and Jack ended up leaving him out in space. What a shocker.

Then instead of building a laser or something that would destroy the asteroid everyone decided to put their trust on a teenage ghost to fix everything. Sure he was successful, making it so the asteroid could phase through the whole ass planet even though it's made of a material ghosts can't manipulate (meaning it should be obvious a ghost can't phase through the asteroid or get objects such as a whole planet to phase through it as well but to each your own).

Let's just hope the moon or sun or any other planet weren't in it's path when it passed through earth.

And don't even get me started on the crappy relationship we all know Danny and Sam are gonna have. It was rushed, and frankly knowing Sam is someone who wants things to go her way, and Danny is someone who's too stubborn to follow that, the relationship isn't going to last.

Also, why were Sam and Tucker being such assholes to Danny through the whole episode until he restored his powers. Like bro, he got rid of his powers to specifically protect you two, why be asses to him?

And that ends my rant lol.

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Humor #Rant #Light Hearted #Nickelodeon #Don't Take This Seriously #Nicktoons #Funny

[kyouka-supremacy]

Tbh Dostoyevsky using vampire guards to communicate with the outside still doesn't explain how he managed while he was still in cell, because supposedly he never moved from there and thus didn't have any chance to interact with any guard (also given that if he did, Dazai would have certainly figured it out on the spot)

#I still think it's very funny to believe Dazai and Dostoyevsky are just bulshitting their way through #“I have my means to communicate with the outside world” #[has not a single clue what is going on outside and is just replying to Dazai's affirmations with cryptic statements that would- #more or less fit any context] #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd ch 111 #mine #Like really this is one of those explainations where you're like. #Of course nobody could predict this. #Because it doesn't make any fucking sense that's why

[sapphire-weapon]

>open Twitter >open DMs to send a message to a buddy I haven't spoken to in a while >there's a shitton of messages that I never got notifications for that I just straight-up missed over the course of A YEAR >goddamn it Twitter >this is all Elon Musk's fault >anyway >one of them is from the Project Umbrella guys >remember the big stupid bitchfight I got into with them last year >oh Jesus what the fuck did they want back then that I missed >open DM >HE'S DEFENDING THE RE ARCHIVES >NO FUCKING WAY LOL

THAT'S NOT WHAT THE RE ARCHIVES SAYS

THIS IS WHAT THE RE ARCHIVES SAYS:

And that's NOT what happens in Leon's RE3 epilogue. THIS is Leon's RE3 epilogue:

Oh but wait!

There's more!

This guy then tries to go on to defend the "Adam Benford kidnapped Leon" argument. Let's see how well his argument holds up.

So let's check his facts. Let's do a search for Jun Takeuchi.

Interesting. So Takeuchi became an executive around 2017. RE6 came out in 2012. So Takeuchi wasn't an executive at the time RE6 was written or released.

In fact

looking at this

Takeuchi didn't work on Resident Evil 6 at all. So... if he didn't work on RE6, then that would make anything he writes about it... fanfiction... wouldn't it? Otherwise, what gives him word of god for RE6's story? The fact that he was employed at the company at the time? Does this mean that any random environmental artist has word of god over the story? Do the Monster Hunter guys have word of god over RE6, too?

And what about Tsukasa Takenaka? Well, he's not even a big enough name to have a Wikipedia page to begin with. In fact, looking him up, it seems like he had a minor hand in writing RE5, produced Revelations 1, and worked on RE: The Mercenaries 3D.

yikes.

Okay, well what about this dude's other claims?

Adam Benford was director of the CIA in 2002 (according ONLY TO that airsoft ad written by the guy who did not work on RE6; this is NOT stated in RE6 itself), and his position in 1998 is unknown -- implying that he was not actually the director of the CIA in 1998. But Leon was kidnapped in 1998 by the CIA. So if he wasn't the director... then I guess he wasn't behind the kidnapping, was he?

Our friend from Project Umbrella then goes on to make a bunch of other claims right in a row, so let's go down them one by one.

>"Leon and Adam working together for a decade is only an approximation" Okay, but if you're approximating, the number would be closer to 15, not 10. Benford died in 2011. 2011 - 1998 = 13. So the rounded number would be 15.

>it's okay if RE6 gets the date wrong because supplementary material gets it wrong >implying that the game does not have more people working on it to ensure accuracy than random supplemental material. You're telling me that no one on the team of hundreds that worked on this game remembered that Raccoon City happened in 1998?

>RE6 is off by a year re: Chris killing Wesker

Is that true?

No, actually. That's not true at all. RE6 says it happened in 2009. And, wouldn't you know it. RE5 takes place in 2009.

So, what do you think, Mr. Project Umbrella?

Is that enough research that I've done for you?

Maybe the next time you want to go into a woman's DMs to mansplain at her and call her hysterical, you might want to get your fucking facts right first, you self-important misogynistic piece of human fucking garbage.

So.

In conclusion.

DO NOT LISTEN TO THE FUCKERS WHO CONTROL THE WIKI

THEY JUST FUCKING GO ON THE INTERNET AND TELL LIES

and talk down to women, apparently

#resident evil #resident evil 6 #leon kennedy #i suppose i'll have to add this to the 'leon's wiki is filled with lies and bullshit' page #but holy shit this was not what i expected to encounter today #this is your 'authority' on the canon #THIS is the fucker who's telling you that all supplemental material is canon and all devs have word of god #THIS fucking idiot #the wiki actively makes RE fandom worse #this is why this series's story doesn't make any fucking sense to people #because they're learning the story from this complete fucking dipshit moron #who puts every contradictory fact he can find together in one big pot and says 'THAT'S THE STORY' #no #the story is ONLY in the games and the movies AND NOTHING ELSE #IF IT'S NOT IN THE GAMES OR THE MOVIES IT'S NOT CANON #IF #IT'S #NOT #IN #THE #GAMES #OR #MOVIES #IT'S NOT CANON #DON'T EVER QUESTION ME #NEVER EVER QUESTION ME

[emeraldspiral]

Jhonen Vasquez makes a show designed around his own unique artsyle, which was notoriously difficult for animators to learn, and everyone praises it for the effort and creative ambition Jhonen and his team put toward realizing his artistic vision.

A woman makes two shows designed around her own unique artsyle, heavily inspired by Jhonen, and people constantly screech about how horrible she is for “making” people draw her wretched, “animator unfriendly” designs. Or even better, unironically proclaim it “cringe” for her to be clearly influenced by Invader Zim, not because they think Invader Zim itself is bad or cringe, but because liking it apparently is.

#i see this so often #like make it make sense #why would you invoke the name of a good show #to say another show is bad for reminding you of it #i will take a thousand zimitators over another fucking show that looks artistically indistinguishable from family guy #Invader Zim #Hazbin hotel #helluva boss #so much vivzie criticism boils down to #it's bad because it is unapologetically nostalgic for early 2000s era deviantart trends #like #i'm not even a furry #but if she wants to draw sparkledogs or whatever #it's her fucking show #if that doesn't spark as much joy for you #as it does for other people who like that sort of thing #maybe the show just isn't for you #also #claiming the character designs are too detailed and complicated #have you watched any anime ever #have you seen how many lines and how many shadows and highlights they put on just the hair

[squantumcreap]

decided to rewatch 'the name of the doctor' mainly for the river clara interactions bc it's been so long but holy shit. steven moffat you are so fucking pretentious and annoying. every other line is "there is a secret so old and secretive it would kill a million worlds just to hear it.... the doctor is a man so important that shadows and whispers and moonbeams know to fear him... his grave is the most dangerous location in existence...." like what the absolute fuck are you talking about. why does every line of dialogue have to be SO fucking obnoxious.

#just every line is SO annoying shut the fuck up! #what do you mean his grave is dangerous because he's a time lord that doesn't make any fucking sense and you never explain it! #why are you acting like the doctor is the most important being in creation! that's so stupid! #it makes me so angry #doctor who #eleventh doctor