#i didn’t see that for everyone else involved in this shitshow

[aniron48]

24. just really needed a hug sort of hug for 00leiter would be amazing if inspiration strikes! 🥰

Alex, mi vida! Thank you for always inspiring and indulging my deep-seated need for 00leiter, and thank you for this prompt. 🥰 Your wish is my command, my friend! It's here, continuing below the cut, as well as on ao3:

sometimes it takes the night to fall

“My mother wanted me to go to law school,” Felix says. His tone is measured, and this, this, is something he’s going to include in his annual performance review at the Agency, which his supervisor signs every year without reading a word: Agent Leiter is calm and measured, even when he is soaking wet, covered in pink feathers, and holding a flash drive with the plans for a chemical weapon designed to take out half of Europe, circumstances which Agent Leiter would have avoided entirely had his MI6 counterpart not been a fucking asshole.

“‘You’ll make good money, son,’ she would tell me,” Felix says. He pulls his Glock out of his holster, pointing it toward the floor to let the water drain from the barrel. “‘You’ll wear nice suits.’ But no, I knew better. I didn’t want to take the motherfucking bar exam.”

“You wear nice suits now, Felix,” Bond drawls, looking him up and down, and Felix is either going to punch or kiss that look off his face, but he hasn’t decided which, yet.

“Normally, I would agree with you, James,” Felix says. Measuredly, again, because he’s a goddamn station chief for the CIA. “But right now, my nice suit looks like it survived simultaneous explosions at a poultry farm and a Pepto-Bismol factory.”

Felix had had plans for their mission in Prague, plans which involved a timeline, and coordinates on a map, and the judicious use of SIGINT. James Bond had had instincts, and even if those instincts had been accurate, as far as identifying the Belarusian middleman they were looking for went, his methods left a lot to be desired, seeing as they primarily involved a chase through a crowded craft fair in the center of town, followed by what could charitably be called hijacking a bachelorette cruise in order to chase said middleman down the Vltava River. And now here they were, on a deserted dock in a decidedly seedy part of town, mercifully free of bachelorettes, but with an unconscious henchman tied to an oil barrel behind them, waiting for the ride that would take them not to their warm, comfortable hotel room near Karluv Most, but to the U.S. Embassy, where Felix could hand off the hard drive and then spend the rest of the night filling out the ream of paperwork required after the sort of nuclear-grade shitshow James Bond tended to leave behind him on a good night.

“I think I know what you need, Felix,” Bond says, and the way his mouth turns up at the corner can’t mean anything good.

“What I need,” Felix says, “is not to be picking penis-shaped confetti out of my beard.”

“No,” Bond says, stepping closer, and if the British exfil team doesn’t get there soon, Felix is going to paddle to the Embassy on a goddamn inflatable canoe, “No, that’s not it.” 

He brings a hand to the back of Felix’s head, drawing him in close. “Why don’t you start by putting your arm around my waist.”

They’re Felix’s own words from years ago, directed back at him with Bond’s characteristically lethal precision. Not long after the events in Bolivia, Felix had flown into London for the memorial service of another MI6 colleague who had died in the line of duty. Later, after everyone else had left, he’d joined Bond where he stood in the back of the church, stiff with grief and the bone-deep chill of the British winter.

“She drowned, you know,” Bond had said, his tone conversational. “004, I mean. She deserved better. It’s a terrible way to go.”

Bond and Felix had been lovers for mere weeks at that point, if that designation even applied to the handful of hours they’d stolen in South American hotel rooms and, on one memorable occasion, the lost luggage room of a train station in the middle of nowhere. But Felix wasn’t an idiot. He’d been in Venice when Vesper died. Even then, he’d known Bond well enough to know what wounds would be fatal to him, if left untreated.

“It is,” Felix had said. He hadn’t dared to say much of anything else. “I’m sorry for your loss, James.”

“It’s England’s loss,” Bond had said. He’d already begun to go distant around the edges, all of the lines of his body tensed for a fight. Felix had wanted nothing more than to demand Bond come back with him to his hotel room, to fuck him fast and merciless until all the tension bled from his body, until he was easy and louche again, unspooled against the Egyptian cotton sheets. But his first instinct with Bond wasn’t always the right one, back then, and he’d looked at Bond in silence for a long moment before making his decision.

“Come here,” he’d said. “I’m going to give you a hug.”

Bond had looked at Felix like he’d just suggested they piss in the baptismal font. “A what?”

“A hug, Bond. Jesus Christ. Come here.” He’d pulled Bond in by the lapel of his expensive wool coat. “You start by putting your arm around my waist, like that. Then you put your other arm around my shoulders. Like this, asshole. And then—” Felix had squeezed with all his might. “Then you hold on tight.”

They are here, now, tonight—and by “here” Felix means Prague, means the dock, means covered in dirty river water and the detritus of phallus-shaped souvenirs, but he also means so much more than that—in no small part because all those years ago, his own instincts had been right when he’d taken James Bond in his arms in an empty church, and so as angry as he is, he’s powerless to deny James this, now. He gives in to the inevitable and steps into the embrace, dropping his head against James’s neck.

“I hate you,” he says, but there’s no longer any heat in it. “This was the worst night of my career.”

“The ladies liked it,” Bond says.

“The ‘ladies’ thought we were strippers. One of them threw her drink on me when I refused to take my shirt off.”

“The night is still young,” Bond points out. Felix refuses to turn his head to look at him, on principle, but he can feel Bond’s smile against his cheek.

“Fuck you and your entire country,” Felix says. “I’m glad we threw your fucking tea in the harbor.” But his head is still on Bond’s shoulder, and his arms are around his waist, and he’ll stay that way until the sound of a distant motor signals that their ride is near, and the night moves on around them.

#prompt fills #one shot #my fic #sometimes it takes the night to fall #james bond #felix leiter #00leiter #fluff

[princess-of-the-corner]

Quirk Counselling

Cause Mimi asked me to expand, and like-

Weird place to start, but have you ever read up on the history of plague doctors?

Most of them weren’t actually doctors. The Plague sprang up so fast, the government didn’t have the time, money, or resources to hire that many doctors. All things considered, I’m not sure that many doctors existed at the time, especially when many actual doctors were likely to be the first one to get sick. Given the way people got sick, government concern was very quickly becoming less about curing the disease, and more about containing the spread, figuring out who had it. And you didn’t need to be a medical professional to do that. Apparently, the most common occupation of Plague Doctor wasn’t “medical professional” it was farmer, greengrocer, and butcher. People who weren’t making a lot of money at the time, cause being a Plague Doctor paid REALLY WELL. They were sending you to check up on sick people, and possibly get sick yourself and die. So they had to make this position look good. So, even if you died, your family would suddenly have quite a bit of money. “Plague Doctors” weren’t really about being DOCTORS, they were about confirming whether or not someone had the Plague. They worked more like census workers who gave out shitty medical advice, than anything. Seriously, read up on Plague Doctors sometime, cause it can be real interesting.

Anyway, I imagine this sort of thing is how “Quirk Counsellors” started. When Quirks first started popping up, the governments of the world would make it mandatory to see someone when they manifested a Quirk. Because most of this would be little kids, they frame it as “helping them develop”, but the reality is they want to know what portion of the population HAS Quirks and what they are. And again, you don’t need a medical degree to tell someone else your observations about a person. I imagine that all initial Quirk Counsellors were just random government agents, and had to submit their files to a government database, so it’s basically registering your Quirk status with the government. But they had to keep up with demand, so you hire anyone who applies, and you pay them well, cause you want them to like you, and you’re sending someone to check out a potentially dangerous situation, you are paying them enough to not care about the possible poison gas.

Of course, some things would have changed by present day, mostly cause so has society, but I imagine Quirk Counsellors haven’t changed much since their inception. While there can be private Quirk Counsellors, most are still government positions. Literally anyone can do the job. There aren’t any qualifications. You don’t need any kind of medical degree, you maybe need to complete an online course (maybe) that takes like six weeks. They pay REALLY WELL. You’d get all kinds of people - those who genuinely want to help but have no clue what they’re doing, those don’t give a fuck and are here for the pay check, those who are actually really good at it but suck at marketing themselves. It’s a shitshow.

I imagine there’s probably SOME regulation, but none of it is government mandated, it’s all done by the community. By review, and word of mouth. Like, Quirk Specialists are probably a thing - a Quirk Counsellor that specializes in a specific kind of Quirk type. I imagine that Specialists are probably the ones you want, because the idea is they dedicate their time to something specific, so actually know what they’re talking about. General Quirk Counsellors, who sort of do a bit of everything, are who you go to “diagnose” your Quirk, then you go to a Specialist. But even that isn’t a guarantee that you’ll get someone good. Some Quirk Counsellors network. Some don’t. Some charge you additional fees. Some will only see you if you agree to a certain number of sessions. Some reserve the right to name your Quirk for you. It is a MESS.

-

Oh I love this and unfortunately for everyone involved this works very well for the role of a certain OC I can’t wait to kill!

#submission

[constant-mason24]

The Fall of Raccoon City- Prologue (Leon Kennedy x Reader AU)

Months before Leon S. Kennedy was meant to start his job as an officer in the RPD, another officer uncovered a dark secret, outing Chief Irons as a wicked man involved in a deep conspiracy with a pharmaceutical company. As both the RPD and the Umbrella Corporation begin to recover from the stains on their reputations, Leon struggles to settle down in a job that's as much of a mess as he is. As he slowly begins to befriend his fellow officers and learns more about what transpired before his arrival, Leon begins to realize all too late that this battle has only just begun, and the officer who caught his eye may very well be in danger…

♠♥♣♦

It's been a long night, but (Y/n) was content with the results. The puzzle was left on the rookie's desk, the sign hanging over the office welcoming him in, and the snacks she had ready to go in the break room. Some of her fellow officers said it might have been too much, but (Y/n) thought it would be best to welcome the new recruit in a big, friendly way.

"He's not even part of your unit, West." Elliot laughed, watching as she nearly fell off the ladder trying to hang up the decor.

"Hey, I've only been out of the unit for, like, two months!" She huffed in defense, agitated he didn't even move to catch her as she wobbled from the height. "Besides, I feel guilty that this guy is walking into a complete shitshow."

"Eh," the officer on the floor grunted, looking down into his near-empty coffee mug. "It's not that bad. Marvin is more than ready to step up to the plate, and everyone else is settling down now. Things will be back to normal soon."

"I don't think it's gonna be that easy." The woman huffed as she lowered herself off the ladder. "Wesker's been up my ass about this case so bad, I can't take a breath without being reminded."

"That sounds like a 'you' problem, little miss hero." He shakes his head. "You should've expected that before agreeing to join S.T.A.R.S."

"One does not just turn down the chance to join S.T.A.R.S." She smirked at Elliot. "And I felt like I couldn't really say no anyway. Not with everything that happened."

"Yeah, how's that hip, by the way?" The man asked, moving to sit down at his desk.

"Oh." (Y/n) gently put her hand on the front left side of her hip, where her thigh met her abdomen. "It doesn't bother me when I'm not actively thinking about it."

"Probably just PTSD more than anything else." "I don't have PTSD." She rolled her eyes, taking the ladder down to return it to the closet. "I got shot. Big fucking deal. Don't see me cryin about it." 

Before Elliot could retort, Marvin Branagh came into the west office. He looked up at the sign (Y/n) had just hung from the ceiling, a bright smile on his face.

"Now, look at this, (L/n)! This is beautiful!"

"Thank you! I thought it'd be nice to welcome our newbie with something special. I also gave him a puzzle." She explained.

"A puzzle?"

"Yeah, to unlock his desk, he has to get the initials of his unit members and input them into the locks. It's like an icebreaker game."

"That's cute." Marvin nodded his approval, causing (Y/n) to beam. "Well, I'm sure the new guy will feel right at home, but it's getting late. You're expected back here earlier tomorrow, so I'm officially sending you home for some sleep."

"Alright." She didn't put up a fight, sighing softly and she put the ladder into a closet and moved to grab her bag. 

"Oh, and (Y/n)?"

"Yes, sir?"

"The word 'welcome' only has one 'L.'"

Branagh laughed as the woman groaned.

♦♣♥♠

The steady humming of the car wasn't enough to ease the headache still pounding through Leon's skull. The music was set at a volume much lower than usual, in hopes it would help keep the pain at bay. His head still felt like an ax had cracked into it anyway. Still, he'd choose this headache now over being sober last night.

Taking a deep breath that sounded more like a sigh, he looked to his right at a road sign rapidly approaching on the horizon. Ahh, Raccoon city was just ahead. Perfect. Looking over at his gas meter, Leon hummed as he realized he should probably fill up soon. Tapping gently against the steering wheel, he slowly veered to the right, exiting the highway to make his way to the gas station just outside of town. 

It was dark out, a gentle rain starting to gear up into a downpour. He parked the car next to a gas pump, jumped out, and all but jogged into the store to avoid the rain. The first thing he noticed was eerie darkness throughout the small station as if the power was out completely. With a frown, stepped further into the room, letting the headlights of his own car flood the store with some kind of visibility. 

"Hello?" He called out, looking around for any living soul. This was the second thing he noticed: the store was completely empty beside him. Maybe they had gone into the back room? 

Leon found himself hesitating as he took a step toward the storeroom door. He raised a hand to the knob just as someone pushed it open from the other side and nearly hit him. He jumped back with a small yell, just as the man on the other side of the door yelled out as well.

"Jesus Christ, son! Scared the living daylights outta me." The man huffed, leaning over and resting his hands on his knees. "You trying to give an old man a heart attack, boy?" 

"N-no sir," Leon stuttered, recovering from his own scare. "Just didn't know if anyone was here."

"Yeah, I'm here." The old man groaned as he stood straight, stretching out his back."power just went out. Think a fuse blew. Gimme a second to get it up and runnin' again."

Leon nodded, moving to look over the shelves as the man went into the back room again. Within just a minute, the lights flickered back on, and Leon could now see the bags of chips and cookies before him clearly. He picked up a bag of salt and vinegar chips, flipping it over before deciding on that and a soda to take with him. 

When he made his way to the counter, the old man was standing at the register, checking to make sure everything was ready to go. 

"Can I get fifteen on pump three?" Leon asked softly, setting his prizes on the counter. The man nodded with a grunt, ringing up the snacks as well as Leon awkwardly looked out the window of the store. 

"Twenty-two, fifty." The man grumbled, and Leon fished his wallet out to pay. He glances out at his car parked by the pump, hoping this job would turn out to be just what he needed…

#Leon kennedy x reader #Leon s kennedy x reader #leon x F!reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil #resident evil 2 #set it the beginning of the RE timeline but I do what I want with it #This is an AU #My own timeline that I mixed up at will #Irons got caught but Wesker did not #(Y/n) gets in over her head #Wesker is plotting #Leon is such a babe im sorry-

[wearethemaincharacters]

Good job [Keys x fem!reader]

18+ minors DNI!

Word count: 2.6k

Prompts:

87 "Ooh, you’re not wearing any underwear.  Trying to tell me something?"

100 "I wanna fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see how good you take it."

71 "Just a little more"

25 "That's it. That's my girl."

94 “That's it. let it all out”

Warnings: smut (18+), fucking in front of a mirror, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys)

——————————————————————————

The tension is thick. The business trip you got assigned was a whole two day ordeal and you already can’t wait to get back home, you almost missed your flight because some idiot decided to park in the middle of the road, therefore blocking it for everyone else and since you are already running late the whole morning you decide to just step out of your Uber, grabbing your bag from the trunk and head to your gate.

The gate isn’t too full since most of the people are probably already through security, just you and two others in front, which isn’t much if the lady in question wouldn’t chit-chat about her morning with everyone and how great the weather is. The man in front of you huffs out an annoyed breath of air and taking a second look you can just roll your eyes. It’s no other than Walter ‘Keys’ Mckey, the man you’re doing the press tour for the new game with and haven’t talked to outside of work since he seems to know everything better when it comes to all the stuff involving making a game - story, graphics, coding - and don’t even get me started on fixing any bugs the game might have. He’s on your nerves before the trip has really started.

After a wonderful one and a half hour flight in a cab together to New York, you finally arrive at our designated hotel.

“Thank you Miss Y/L/N and Mister Mckey for staying with us. We have your room ready, everything is paid in advance and room service will be paid for in full.”

“Excuse me, you said room?”, he asks the question that you were wondering about yourself.

“Yes, your boss said one room would be fine, is there a problem?”

“Is there any chance we could book a second room? I’ll even pay for it myself”, you try your best.

“I’m sorry but we’re all booked out for the week.”

“It’s fine, we’ll make it work. Thank you”, Keys snatches the Keycard to your room from the desk and all you can do is fake a smile and nod thankfully before following him.

You enter the room with just one bed inside and are happy that it’s at least going to be some stunning looking 48 hours. The meeting you came here for was in an hour so you take your sweet time to change into something more appropriate and get yourself ready by looking through the notes on your tablet you made on the way here.

Simple black skinny jeans and a shirt with a v-neck should do the trick, the decent makeup doing the rest. Keys settles for the usual pair of dark jeans, but even though you didn’t mean to, your gaze rests on his black leather belt for a second as he is buttoning his dark blue shirt over it.

Both of you are well aware of the fact that he caught you, so you try to busy yourself packing your handbag for the meeting, slipping your tablet and notepad inside and hurrying out the door with a simple: “I’m just quickly gonna grab a coffee on the way.”

It’s a shitshow, the whole meeting the guys from the New York department are trying to tell you how to do your job and ask you why you didn’t think of the outcome to XYZ of any of your actions. On the other hand, Keys is the one swimming in praise for his good work and all you can do the second the meeting is done I storm out of the room to grab some dinner before heading back into your room. You don’t have a problem with someone giving you any kind of critique, but they just acted like you shouldn’t be the person in charge of your department. The dinner is just the cherry on top, comes out after an hour and just isn’t as fulfilling as you hoped, overprized of course.

Keys is sitting in front of his laptop at the table in the room and doesn’t even turn his head at the sound of the door falling into its lock. It’s dark outside, but the view is just as beautiful with the skyline, all the pretty lights of the city shining in the black of the night.

“I’m taking a shower, won’t be long”, to at least give him a chance to use the bathroom now if he needs to.

The warm water and rose petal smell of the hotel shampoo is just the right thing to calm your nerves. You still decide to not take too long so he can get ready right after. The silk of your white pajamas hugs your body so perfectly, you barely feel the material. The room is not as humid as the bathroom which instantly erupts goosebumps on your skin the second you step out.

A knock on the door lets you freeze, not wanting to talk to anyone you don’t have to. Keys snaps out of his trance and rushes to the door, taking things a bit slower when his body grazes yours in the tight space you can barely call hallway. His T-shirt under the unbuttoned one comes in contact with the silk of your pajama, the missing bra instantly getting a reaction out of your body, nipples hardening underneath the material and you know he feels it. As he answers the door you pack your worn stuff into your suitcase and sit on the edge of the bed, unsure of the sleeping situation for the night.

“Sooo, not wearing any underwear, trying to tell me something?”, you would love to wipe the smile off his face but can’t hide the tingles rushing through your body.

“Shut up, who likes to sleep in underwear anyway?”

The room fills with the smell of something you could recognize anywhere - fresh Pizza.

“I’ll let you have half if you can commit to both of us sleeping in the same bed tonight.”

“I already ate, thanks.”

“That still doesn’t tell me if you want some.”

He places the impressive pizza plate on the white duvet and gets his laptop before sitting against the headboard, still focused on the screen in front of him as he grabs a slice that already had your mouth watering prior to you taking a proper look at it.

“You did a good job today even though you didn’t have any references for the stuff you were talking about, maybe they were wondering why I didn’t just go alone”, your heart misses a beat at the praise in the beginning but quickly catches back on to its usual rhythm. 

“Apparently I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing at the moment, so yeah, you might be right that I am useless on this trip after all.”

“I never said that, I just didn’t get why Antwan had to send both of us if they were just gonna talk shit about your work anyway”, Keys puts the plate on the table his laptop sat on only half an hour ago, leaning back against the headboard to see your reaction to his statement.

“Thank you?! I’ll just report back to him on Monday, who knows maybe I’ll finally throw in the towel, can’t be bothered to take any more of this shit anyway”, you desperately press your thighs together, looking for a little more relief than just the hot shower to all the comments being flung at you today.

You get up from the bed, ready to tell him that you’re just gonna check in to another hotel, opening your bag back up to take out your outfit from the day but Keys gets ahead of you and comes around to your side of the bed, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.

Taking in the few inches between you two, you look up at him, a breath catches in your throat when you see his features soft, his brown eyes with slightly furrowed brows taking you in.

He leans down so his lips gently graze the shell of your ear and you can’t bring yourself to move, the anticipation boiling in your veins as he whispers: “Don’t go. I wanna fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see how good you take it.”

You fist his shirt before he can finish, grabbing onto it already after the first two words, the realization hits - he got you and has your stomach doing somersaults with how bad you want him, all without touching you. Your cheeks meet as he comes back to look at you, mere inches between and you know he’s just waiting - either for permission or for you to do something. His expression is almost pained with the way he is taking you in, giving his all not to just take what he wants. But the moment you give him the smallest nod with pleading eyes, he’s grabbing your cheeks with a hand on each side and presses his soft lips to yours, trying his best not to rush the kiss but its intense - swimming in your kiss like its what he’s been waiting for all day. You get lost in his soft touches, how he pauses for a second to take in the taste of your lips just to go back in, putting a loose strand of hair back in its place behind your ear. You would call the sound that leaves your lips pathetic when he pulls away just to catch his breath but instead busy yourself with taking his shirt off, sliding it eager down his shoulders just pulling at his shirt under it seconds later and before you can take a proper look at him, his lips are back on yours. Warm hands find their way under your shirt to pull you closer.

Keys chuckles into the kiss when you reach the black belt you couldn’t take your eyes earlier, fingers resting on the leather when the same small laugh escapes your own lips, finally opening it, the metal sound clinking heavily in the room. His fingers fumble with the buttons of your pajama but know he’s getting frustrated - you never use them because they’re such a pain in the ass to get open.

“Wait”, you mumble breathlessly into the kiss, almost instantly pulling away to throw your shirt over your head.

You exchange one more kiss before his lips travel lower, leaving not only soft purple patches but also goosebumps on your skin. A soft moan escapes his mouth, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head and your hand to slide from the back of his neck into his soft brown hair, carefully grabbing a bunch to pull and there goes another moan as he takes your nipple between his lips where his tongue licks and plays with it.

Both of you pull apart once more so you take the chance and get on the bed with him following right behind you but the moment you take one more look at his - still buttoned - pants, you can only imagine what you felt if you dipped your hand inside a few minutes ago. He hovers over you, settling between your legs to pepper a few more kisses over your exposed chest. The finger that rubbed over your other nipple just seconds ago finds its way under the waistband of your shorts, two other ones dipping gently between your folds. You can see him trying to keep his composure when he feels how drenched you already are - all for him. The sparks in your body turn into pure excitement as he pulls the fabric down your legs, throwing it somewhere just to come back up once more, holding your face with the same hand that explored your body and pressing another but needier kiss on your lips.

Keys scoots down the bed seconds later to kick the shoes he’s still wearing off his feet and pull his pants down his thighs alongside his underwear. You barely get a good look at him, he’s already kneeling between your legs, his hands gently rubbing down your thighs, causing you to spread them wider and perk your head up to take him in.

He rubs himself a few times before aligning his impressive length with your entrance. Your heart beats in your chest as you keep your eyes between you two, waiting for the stretch you know is going to come.

His tip glides through your folds and catches your clit for a second, coating him in more of your arousal which leaves both of you nearly breathless. You’re about to wiggle your hips for any kind of friction when he carefully pushes a few more inches inside, the stretch causing you to just want more - need more.

“Just a little more”, he tells himself as he keeps going, trying his best to let you adjust instead of just ramming into you.

You desperately pull him up to you to place a fleeting kiss on his lips and throw him onto the mattress, leaving you straddling his thighs as you glide down his length in one motion. The wind gets knocked out of you, clenching around him at the obscene desperate moan that makes him throw his head back at your action, fingers nearly bruising your hips with the tight grip.

He’s trying to catch his breath but your upper body lays flat against him, your hands intertwining with his next to his head, holding on as you begin to lift your hips slowly at first, picking up the pace in need for your release you know won’t be far.

Still, with your hands in his, he gently pushes your face to the side and that’s when you catch a glimpse of your reflection, whimpers leaving your lips as he looks at you through the floor length mirror that’s leaning against the wall, your bodies perfectly captured.

Your brows are furrowed and even though you could just get lost in the feeling of him meeting your thrusts you try your best not to close your eyes and catch every beautiful expression on his face, the way he still looks so fucking nerdy with his glasses on his nose.

“Look at you. That’s it. That’s my girl”, you moan at the nickname that fits like it's always been yours.

The room fills with the panting and moaning mess that is you two and soon you can feel your orgasm approaching. Your moans get more desperate by the second and that’s when he slides his hand now into your hair, pulling you closer and fogging your mind with his own moans that are barely above a whimper - he’s just as close.

You grip the pillows beneath you as you try your best to still meet his thrusts, not able to keep up the tempo, your voice trembles with the moan that leaves your body when you clench around him, coating him in more release than the tears that already dripped onto the mattress. Your thighs shake uncontrollably so he holds you close, coming right after you with his staggered breaths and moans filling the room and his hands gripping your ass to pull you impossibly closer, holding you right there.

You place gentle kisses on his chest as he keeps coming, moving to his jawline to tell him: “That’s it. Let it all out”, all while you keep clenching around him to encourage him further, taking everything he gives you to the point where you almost get overstimulated, which you truly couldn’t care less about.

You let your body falls next to his, both of you getting under the covers after catching your breaths for a minute.

“Since we’re obviously sharing the bed, does it mean I can help myself to a piece of that pizza?”

~ M

#joe keery #keys #free guy #stranger things #joe keery stranger things #keys x reader #joe keery x reader #smut

[percontaion-points]

Clawless chapters 25 & 26

Today's review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series

Chapter 25

“I didn’t! I saw Trey out the window with him, so I went to bring him back.” 

The guard looked unimpressed. “Someone took both pups from the Head Omega’s room. There are sensors on all the windows and the only one breached was yours.” His gaze skidded off her, but it was flat with dislike. “Maybe he came through your window, took the pup, and you had a change of heart. Followed him out to talk him round, and then he heard the wolves and got scared.”

I’m more concerned with where the so-called enhanced security was during literally all of this. Vail literally left campus, and not one single person noticed until she’d had a 5-10 minute conversation with Trey!

“The system was down for a couple minutes. Some kind of glitch. By the time it came back up, the sensor on her window was triggered.”

Right. And while you were waiting for your computer to restart, a baby was literally kidnapped and an omega literally wandered off to go meet with an enemy wolf. 

If you need to rely 100% on technology, you are a fucking embarrassment to the entire “security guard” profession. 

Gwendoline Arras was an alpha female, famed for both her cool beauty and her ruthlessness. She came from a pack in the remote Canadian Mountains and had been mated to the old alpha through an arrangement struck with her parents. She’d never publicly fought with her mate, but everyone knew their relationship was stormy, and at times, even violent. She’d put out a statement supporting Jay after he ascended, and according to clan gossip, had been celebrating her freedom ever since her mate died.

Did I call this or what? 

“Keep your bitch away from my boys, Reed, and it will stay our little secret.”

Chapter 25 summary: Reed shows up to where the security officers dragged Vail following them grabbing her in the woods. He tries to sort through what happened, and he’s beyond pissed as hell that they let such a huge lapse in security go through… And are blaming it on technical problems. As the guards go, at least they seem to understand that they’re in for a shitstorm soon. 

Reed then turns his attention to Vail. He knows that Trey is trouble, and he’s been on the clan’s radar ever since he showed up during the field trip in the first book. Vail says that he seemed drunk, but doesn’t know what else to say.

Reed tells her that she shifted in order to protect the pups. It’s obviously not a full shift, but her omega instincts took over, because the babies were in danger. 

He sends Vail to his room to clean up, and promises her that he’ll send Marnie in to be with her. 

Then Jasper’s mother, Gwen, shows up. She’s steaming mad, and more willing to side with her emotions (which are obviously all over the place, since her babies were involved), than the literal evidence that Reed shows her. She warns Reed to keep “that bitch” away from any of her children, and promises that she’s going to mate Pearl to Jasper before the year is over. 

Chapter 26

“I just hope they still let the omegas look after the pups. I’d hate to be the asshole who brought down Den Night.”

Again, I’m less worried about Vail’s actions and more interested in what a room full of students was doing to the point where they literally allowed a strange man to break into the school and make off with a pup… AND LITERALLY NOT ONE SINGLE PERSON FUCKING NOTICED. 

“If you want to write another letter to your foster family, I’ll make sure it gets delivered. Night, Vail.”

Chapter 26 summary: Vail mopes around in Reed’s room while Marnie gushes about how cool it is that Vail was able to do a mouth-shift to protect the pups. That it’s so much cooler than popping a bit of fur on her hand. 

Reed comes in after a while, and basically says that things are a fucking shitshow right now. That Vail should keep her head down, and invites the girls to watch a movie and eat candy.

Vail falls asleep, and wakes up sometime in the middle of The Wolf Man. Reed tells her that Marnie went back to her dorm. 

He then apologises for the incident he participates in during the first book, where he and Potter cornered her in the bathroom and tried to sexually assault her; Vail got out of it by throwing bleach over Potter. Vail is quick to call him out on not only his shit, but also the shit that the alphas pull on the omegas and duds. That they’re supposed to protect the most vulnerable of the pack, yet they torment them. Case in point: when Reed went to get Marnie, he forced her to leave the dorm on her hands and knees “like a dog”. He tells her that when he was little, his parents and Marnie’s parents made an agreement to basically marry the two of them off. But when it became obvious Marnie was a dud, all Marnie’s mum did was to go around and apologise for having birthed something so disappointing. Again, Vail calls him out on his shit; that this is the actions of an immature bully, not a future leader. 

She settles in to get some more sleep. Before he leaves, he promises her that if she wants to try and send another letter to Darkness, he’ll make sure that it actually goes out this time. 

#clawless #hunter moon academy #readers of tumblr #book review #bookblr #omegaverse #supernatural romance

[mskatesharma]

.

#i can’t lie sometimes i’ll be rewatching scene a two (or in this case a reaction video) #and it’s just…you know what kate? neither edwina or mary (or anthony) deserve you constantly setting yourself on fire to keep them warm #get on the first boat you can and fuck off far away from them #let’s see how they cope without you doing your best trying to keeping shit together #while they continue to be oblivious to you clearly going through something #and anthony can get in the fucking bin for treating you like shit and not apologising #GOD #sorry for the outburst but do you realise no one actually utters the words ‘sorry’ to kate?? #about anything? #yes she did stuff wrong but at least she fucking apologised for it??? #and constantly felt like shit for it? #i didn’t see that for everyone else involved in this shitshow #my girl was so alone AND FOR WHAT?? #im clearly in a ‘kate got shat on by everyone’ mood right now #sorry to you all lol

[give-grian-rights]

.....is there anymore worship au? I'm starving 😭 I checked everywhere

THERE'S ALWAYS POTENTIAL FOR MORE WORSHIP AU.

remember: literally anyone can write about my aus. whenever .please . i INVITE AND ENCOURAGE YOU TO DO SO . and @ or message me them because i am blind . and may not notice !

but to throw in my own hat,,

y'know how Grian's closing up his Hermitcraft season a bit early?

Grian exhausted almost everything he could reasonably do before season 7 came to an official close. So, after he's satisfied with what he's done for the season, he decided to bring his creative energy somewhere else, while he bides his time.

Dream SMP.

After months of casually talking to Techno, during MCC, or MCC practice, and occasional sprees of Techno breaking into the server with gifts (Which may or may not have included a human sacrifice, who could tell?) Grian decides to see the hell of a server himself.

AND THIS COULD GO ONE OF SEVERAL WAYS. DEPENDING ON YOUR INTERPRETATION OF DREAM SMP, IN A CONTEXT WHERE MCC CAN CONEXIST.

option one: Dream SMP is just LARP . just . fucking . reject theater kids who got themselves in WAY TO DEEP and now almost everyday on the server is them larping or planning out/building a scene. They're all friends and all good, some of the out-there stuff can absolutely still be canon and real, but played up or altered a bit for the sake of their story. This lends to great things such as H, Tubbo, and Fundy leaving for the weekend for Vault Hunters and at the end of the day, having people back on DSMP call them up to frantically try and explain the day's story, if they actually got something done instead of break character and go apeshit.

option two: everything in the server is real and now Grian volunteered for an absolute shitshow . AND THIS HAS OPTOINS.

version one: he thinks everything is a game and fun story n lore with friends like on Hermitcraft . it's not . he doesn't realize this until he realizes how legitimately traumatized and scarred the teenagers of the server are, along with many others.

version two: he's immediately swooped away by Techno, who tries to explain it as honestly as possible. He's possibly already told a lot to Grian, anyway. Techno wouldn't actively and maliciously lie to the person who, for this au, is literally considered a piglin god. But he'd be brief and tell things from his side.

No matter what, Grian would try and fix the server, and their relationships. He'd probably be FURIOUS with Technoblade once he find out his contribution to the trauma that Tubbo and Tommy both faced, but he can't be to mad. It's not like he didn't ruin his fair share of lives, in his lifetime.

Grian would probably try and improve the general living conditions of everyone. Help finish Bee n Boo's mansion, make sure Tommy had his own room inside- or a nice house, as well, in Snowchester He'd then go around and see who else on the server needed help in terms of living conditions, and would fix whatever he could. Creeprholes, destroyed crop fields, broken paths filled in with anything, etc.

He'd probably spend a little bit of time everywhere, trying to get to know the people. Especially the teens. After the minor falling out with Techno, he'd probably ask to stay in Snowchester. He'd build up a good few things there, and get to talk with everyone there, while doing it to try and piece together what happened.

Grian's an eldtrich god because of Evo . he would not hesitate to make people come together and fucking COMMUNICATE .

it's 2am and i haven't even gotten to MENTION THE BRANCH OF THE WORSHIP AU WHERE DREAM'S INVOLVED IN THE CULT TOO .

SO MANY IDEAS . and i welcome different takes in the reblogs .

#dsmp x hc #dsmp x hermitcraft #grian #worship au #afk grian's face looks like chiseled blackstone so he's a god now and techno's a simp #dream smp au #dsmp au #dsmp crossover #dsmp technoblade #dsmp techno #mika-posts

[aellynera]

Word of  Mouth (Santiago Garcia x Reader)

WORD OF MOUTH

(This has been sitting in my WIPs for-ev-errrrr and I finally got in the mood to finish it, since I haven’t written Santi in a while and I missed him. It’s nothing too involved, just a slice-of-life kind of deal, but I do like the way it turned out. Comments, likes, and reblogs always appreciated!)

I think this one came out as GN!Reader (I’ve read over it a few times but if I’m wrong please let me know.)

Word Count: 2340

Summary: It’s not that Santiago is mad about it, exactly; it’s more that he doesn’t like the way it happened.

Warnings: Some cursing. Some angst. Some fluff. Argument. Two people being stubborn. As always possible lack of proofreading.

Santiago comes off duty and returns to your on-base housing, and he stays quiet for far too long. Usually he greets you with a kiss, or at least a hello, but this time he doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t say a word as he goes into the bedroom, peels off his fatigues, and changes into a plain black t-shirt and plain khaki cargo pants.

He doesn’t say a single word.

“Um, hello to you too,” you call out, getting up to follow him. “How was your day?”

He just shrugs and shakes his head slightly. You get the same response when you ask him if anything interesting happened today, how training went, or if he’s hungry.

You haven’t seen him for most of the day, different assignments and different meetings keeping you apart while on duty, but you just know. From his silence and the way he’s acting, you just know. You’ve been trying to find the right way to bring it up, the right time to mention it, and clearly, that time is going to be now whether you like it or not.

He’s found out.

Even when different assignments keep you apart, you do work on the same base and everyone knows you’re together, even if you never officially said anything. It’s really no one’s business but it’s not really a secret, and you live together, so people just assume. And anything work-related was never unknown for long. Word has gotten back to Santiago, and from the looks of it, it has also gotten to him.

The fact that you can’t actually read his expression is what concerns you the most.

You sit down on the side of the bed and sigh again. “Frankie told you.”

Someone who had been in that early morning meeting with you, a particular someone Santiago identified as a best friend, certainty couldn’t keep it to himself. You make a mental note to have a very, very strict conversation with one Francisco “Catfish” Morales the next time you see him.

Santiago considers calling Frankie, so he can repeat exactly what he told Santiago this afternoon, after you’d already gone back home for the day. Instead he finally decides to answer you, his voice flat and dangerous.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“It’s my job,” you reply evenly.

“It’s your job if you get assigned to it,” he runs a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s not your job if you volunteer for it. That’s a choice.”

You furrow your brow at him. “Semantics.”

“Selection,” he responds, voice clipped.

You rest your head on your fingertips, four on your forehead and thumb on your cheekbone. “I’m the best person for this mission. and.. it’s not like it’s never come up before. We’ve had this conversation, Santi, we’ve talked about this exact scenario, and you even said that no one was more…”

Santiago raises an eyebrow. “Hypothetical and actual are not the same thing.”

“So, hypothetically, I’m not actually qualified to do this?”

“Actually, you should let someone else be the flag-waver this time.”

“The flag-waver?”

“What, now this hypothetically has nothing to do with being a goddamn hero?”

Your head snaps up and your eyes narrow at him. He glares in return.

“Actually,” you start, but Santiago’s short, humorless laugh cuts you off.

This time, your words drag through the tension like dull razors through styrofoam. “Actually,” you repeat, “this has zero to do with being a fucking hero and everything to do with the fact that no one else could get this done the right way and it is my goddamn duty to do what I signed up for.”

“There is no right way that this isn’t going to be an absolute shitshow.” The venom in his voice is like ice in your veins.

“Thank you for having so much faith in me and my abilities, Santiago.”

Silence falls on the room for a few long minutes as you both fight to check your emotions. You understand he’s angry - and maybe scared, although he’ll never admit it - and he knows you’re absolutely right on all accounts - although he is not ready to admit it.

You break the silence, voice tuned down and level. “Look, I wanted to tell you myself, but I didn’t see you all day. I didn’t want you to find out like this. Frankie shouldn’t have gotten involved. But I am going on this mission. I...I don’t want you to be mad about it.”

He looks at you for a moment, and this time you can read his expression, but it almost makes it worse. It’s a combination of worry, sadness, understanding, and yes, traces of anger. It’s not a look that suits him. 

You shift in your spot on the edge of the mattress.

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed,” he says softly, then turns and walks from the room.

Oh. Shit.

***

The rest of the evening passes in a thick, uncomfortable silence. It’s been hours since your confrontation in the bedroom, and the fullness of night has fallen without a single other word being spoken between you.

You spend the night in bed alone, and Santiago makes himself mostly uncomfortable on the couch.

Morning breaks and you pull yourself from the confines of the comforter. Not that you had been sleeping very well anyway. It was warm under the covers, temperature wise, but it somehow felt so cold, and you haven't slept well. Your mind refused to calm down.

You shower and dress, going through your morning routine almost on autopilot. As you wash your face and glance into the mirror, one side of your mouth pulls up into a sad smirk as you recall Santiago’s last words from the night before.

Not mad, disappointed.

Your parents used to say that, when you’d done something against the rules, potentially stupid, and possibly morally questionable. It always seemed to hurt more than actually having them be mad at you, and you wince as you realize adulthood has done nothing to change that feeling.

You and Santiago have your fair share of arguments. Usually they’re not serious, even kind of playful. You both like to talk and you both like to be right, so a little verbal battle isn’t uncommon. But you’re still running the previous night’s...it wasn’t a conversation, but was it really a fight? Was it even an argument? No category really seems to fit, and this one just feels different.

You go downstairs and expect to find Santi on the couch, it’s still early, but as soon as you hit the bottom of the steps, the smell of freshly brewed coffee assaults your nose. 

He hands you a mug full of the dark brown liquid as you enter the kitchen. You take it with a nod of thanks and he nods back. But he still doesn’t say a word.

It’s a good sign though. At least, you hope it is, anyway.

You sip from your mug as he turns back to the stove, pushing some stuff around in a frying pan. It smells like bacon and potatoes and your stomach grumbles in protest, and you’re not sure but you think you can see the corners of Santi’s mouth turn up just a little.

Also a good sign. Maybe.

You sit down at your usual spot at the table and play with the handle on the mug. You offer him a singular glance and then stare back into your drink. Clearly he’s not going to be the one to talk first. You sigh.

This is not the first time he’s done this. Santiago is a good man, the best you know, and he’s honorable and decent and so fucking kind, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned since living with him, it’s he’s damn stubborn and can be a petulant brat when he wants to. And in typical macho hero Santiago Garcia style, he will not be the first one to cave after an argument, especially when he thinks he’s right.

You’ll give him shit for it later, when all the animosity has worn off, but for now, you’re going to have to cut the tension. You’ve never been good with silence and it’s only been one night and now this brief bit of morning and it’s starting to get to you.

And okay, maybe you’re not always the best at communicating with him, either. So you’ll be the first to break, this time.

You sigh again. “Santi…”

He turns his head slightly, away from his work at the stove, and glances at you. An eyebrow goes up.

“Are we going to talk about this? For real?” you ask.

He shrugs and turns back to the contents of the pan.

A frustrated growl erupts from your chest as you push your chair back and take the three steps over to the stove. You grab the handle and push the pan off the heat, snapping the burner off as you do, and then whirl and stare at Santi. He narrows his eyes and takes a step back, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter by the sink.

“Please say something to me,” you bite out. God, he’s so frustrating sometimes. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it first, but you cannot be upset with me for doing my goddamn job. For doing what I signed up to do. Just...fucking talk to me. Please.”

This time it’s Santi who sighs, and he runs a hand through his hair and massages a spot on the back of his neck. “I told you, I’m not mad.”

“Okay,” you nod, “but you really also can’t be disappointed.”

“I’m not.”

“You can’t just be...wait, what?”

“I said,” he says, uncrossing his arms slowly and reaching for one of your hands, “I’m not.”

You just blink at him and bite your bottom lip.

“I just...I don’t like the thought of you being out there without me.” Your mouth opens to retort but he holds up a hand to stop you, and you close it again and he continues. “I know you can do this, I know you’re totally capable and you can handle yourself, you could probably kick my ass on any given day in sparring, but...I just…” his voice trails off and he turns to stare out the kitchen window.

You squeeze his hand firmly and pull his attention back to you. He looks so handsome, his hair still tousled slightly from sleep and his t-shirt wrinkled from being on the couch all night, but he also really does look troubled and it makes your heart drop. “What is it, Santi?”

“There’s always a danger with any mission,” he says softly. “And it just kills me that I can’t protect you. I just want to protect you and have you come back safe.”

Then he’s pulling you into his arms and burying his face in your neck, and you feel wet spots on your collarbone and it makes tears prick at your eyes too. Santi shakes slightly in your arms and you whisper soft, soothing words into his hair.

He’ll never admit it, but you know. He’s scared.

Because he’s not wrong. This mission has the potential to go sideways and tits-up at the same time, and then flip over backwards for good measure. And you have to admit, although you’re not going to admit it to him because that would likely make it so much worse, that you’d give anything to have him on this mission with you. But you can’t. You can just do your job and do it well, prepare for the worst and hope for the best. 

A common mantra in your line of work. One that you always stick to.

But you have so much more to lose this time, and Santi does too, and your breakfast is forgotten as you take him by the hand and drag him back up to your bedroom. You lead him to the bed and lie down on your side, pull him down with you, and curl up into his side. He just wraps his arms around you and holds on like you’re a lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to come back to you,” you trace your fingers over his dog tags.

“I know,” he kisses under your ear.

You hope you’re telling the truth. He hopes you’re telling the truth. You both hold each other like it might be the last time, even though it won’t because you’re not leaving for several days, but you’re both acutely aware that you have no way of actually knowing when it might really be the last time.

So you just hold each other silently for a while, until a thought occurs to you and you huff out a gentle laugh.

“What?” Santi asks you, peering at you with heavy lids and stupidly long lashes.

You lean up to kiss him on the nose. “Wanna help me run some strategy?” 

His answer is cut off by the very insistent complaint from your stomach. He quirks an eyebrow. “Wanna have a breakfast meeting?”

You giggle. “Probably a good idea.”

Santi plants a kiss on your lips and then gets up, holding out a hand to pull you off the bed and you stand, stretching your arms over your head. He goes to the doorway and says, “I’ll go finish making the food. Meet you at the table in 20, Lieutenant.”

“Sure thing, Captain,” you smile at him.

He moves to leave, and then calls out, “Oh, and Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Santiago?” you roll your eyes, another giggle escaping your lips.

He sticks his head back in the door, just for a moment, just long enough to take all of you in with a look of adoration, and mouths the words “I love you.” Then he turns and goes downstairs.

And you know you can handle - no, you will handle - anything that might happen, and your heart soars.

~end~

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[jawritter]

Where The Green Grass Grows

Chapter 1

Summary: Life changes, nothing ever stays the same. With most change comes with some degree of pain, that’s how we grow.

Jensen thought he had his whole life planned out, written for him in the bright lights of Hollywood. One failed marriage later, and a lifetime of lessons learned, lead him home to a place he thought he’d left behind him when he was only a teenager.

He thought his life was over. He felt like he’d lost everything, but who knew one little trip to the local diner that had just opened up outside of town would turn his whole world upside down. All because he met you. Maybe a little slower pace of life isn’t such a bad idea after all…

Warnings:  Language, Angst, mention of past OC character death, mention of grief, dealing with a divorce. Drinking. I think that's about it for this chapter.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2550

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics​

A/N: This fic is unbeta’d and all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! I hope you all enjoy this one! Feedback is golden! This series is complete on patreon.

My Masterlist   My Patreon   Series Masterlist

“Mr. Ackles! Good morning!” Alex, Jensen's longtime agent, said as he took his seat at the big oak desk in front of Jensen.  

“Alex,” Jensen said, giving the man a tight smile as he watched him shuffle through the pile of paperwork on his desk. Jensen had been in the entertainment industry since he was a young boy in one sense or another. He was no idiot, and he knew the reason he was called into his agents office for the first time in almost 15 years wasn’t a good thing, and he knew just what it was about. 

“I’m glad you could come in to see us on such short notice, Mr. Ackles. I’m sure you’re a busy man, and I’m not going to take up much of your time.”

Alex folded his hands in front of him, and Jensen couldn’t help but feel like the kid that had been sent to the principal's office for doing something stupid in class. The only difference was this time he wasn’t a kid, and this wasn’t a school. He was in his fucking forties, and this was his job. He hadn’t even done anything wrong! 

“I’m sure you already suspect the reason I called you here Jensen,” Alex said, dropping all formality that was there just a moment ago.  “Your recent divorce has affected you, and I don’t mean that in an offensive way!” Alex said as Jensen rolled his eyes. He knew that’s what this was all about. 

His divorce with Danneel had been a very public one. There were children involved, and of course a substantial amount of property. What divorce has ever gone smoothly or quietly in Hollywood? None that he’d ever seen, and they were overall civil for the public eye? So what was the problem?

“Cut the shit, Alex!” Jensen said, barely holding his temper in check. He could feel his blood pressure rising in his seat. Why did people have to be so damn judgemental? “What the fuck is this really all about?” 

Alex took a deep breath, and set back in defeat against his dark leather chair, and looked at Jensen almost as if he pitied him, and damn if that didn’t just suck worse than the wishy-washy shit. 

“Look, Jensen, since your divorce you haven’t been as on your game as you were. You’re showing up late to set. You have been drinking more, I can tell it by the color of your fucking skin man. You’re exhausted. No one expected you to jump back to work before the ink even dried on the divorce papers, and the company thinks it might be time to take a little break, get yourself back together, and figure shit out before you try and take on another roll.”

Alex fell quiet as Jensen set there with his hands buried in his hair, no longer looking at him. Alex did not want to do this to Jensen, he really didn’t. It was the guys that were higher up than he was. 

Sure they weren’t exactly wrong, he could see it in the actor’s eyes how tired he was, and how much strain he was under. He didn’t want another nervous breakdown under his belt like Charlie Sheen that had almost turned into an incurable disaster. Jensen had a stable following, and a break wasn’t going to hurt his career. If nothing else it may help it. 

“Go back to Texas for a while Jensen, get away from all this shit here in California, go have a damn beer out in the country for fucks sake. Focus on you! Gigs will still be here. You need to take care of yourself man.”

Jensen nodded slowly before finally looking up to meet Alex’s now concerned gaze. 

Jensen knew deep down he’d been slipping, but he didn’t think it was bad enough to warrant a forced vacation. If it really was that bad, he knew he needed to take a step back from the public eye until he could get his shit together before it did hurt his career. He’d seen much bigger actors than him fall because of shit they did while going through tough shit like this, and he didn’t work all his life to lose everything. 

“Okay… Fine… I’ll go home for a while,” Jensen said, huffing in defeat, rubbing his hand along the beard that was now covering his jawline as he focused on a random spot on the building just outside the window. Completely done with this conversation. 

Alex breathed a visible sigh of relief and flopped back into his chair. His eyes still on the man in front of him. He couldn’t imagine what was going on in Jensen’s head right now, but whatever it was, he knew he wasn’t in the sharing mood. 

“I’ll let the big guys upstairs know, take as long as you need,” Alex said, getting up from his desk and extending his hand for Jensen to shake. Jensen looked at it like it personally offended his mother, but shook it all the same. He didn’t want to piss people off to the point he’d need to find a new agency to represent him, but man, did he want to tell everyone in this building to go fuck themselves. 

It really didn’t sink in that he was going home until Jensen sat down at his computer at home with a glass of bourbon in his hand, looking at plane tickets back to Dallas. He hadn’t told his dad he was coming, and he knew his family would welcome him back with open arms, but it was his own mental struggle that kept him from hitting the pay now button on the screen.

Sure, Alex said that he could come back whenever he was ready, but the truth was he didn’t know when or if ever he’d be ready again. 

He felt like going back to Texas was admitting defeat. When he’d shown up in California all those years ago, he’d struggled his way into Hollywood. No one had given him an exactly warm welcome, and it didn’t come without some damn near misses and shit that almost sent him back before his time. 

Now, after all that. Several decade’s worths of struggling, and clawing his way to where he was today, he was going home. It left more than a little bitter taste in his mouth, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

The agency wasn’t going to get him another job until he took a break, and sure he needed one, but he didn’t want to take one. On the other hand, if he didn’t take one, then he’d surely destroy his career because he was in no shape to be in the public eye. 

There was no going back to Austin. He couldn’t live in the same town as her, that’s why he’d run off to California. If he was going back to Texas it was going to have to be Dallas. No matter how much he didn’t want to. 

It wasn’t that he was afraid someone would make fun of him, or the locals would talk about him. He was loaded, and successful. He wasn’t concerned about their opinions. It was his own pride he was struggling with, not theirs. He had lost his wife and children, now he was losing his career, and he just didn’t feel like this shitshow could get any worse. 

“Who says you can’t go home,” Jensen said with a dark chuckle as he booked his ticket, and stared at the departure time. 5:00 A.M. tomorrow. That only gave him a few hours to pack, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to even take any of this shit with him.

“Order up!” you hear James call from the other side of the counter where the kitchen was separated from the bar by a large whole that took up most of the inner wall, much like a lot of older dinner kitchens did in the ’50s and ’60s. 

You throw the rag you’d been wiping the bar down with in the laundry hamper that was hidden safely under the counter from the view of the customers and grabbed the tray of burgers and fries, bringing them over to the young couple that was sitting at the very back of the restaurant. They were the only customers left in the place, and it was obviously their first date.

You could tell it in the way the girl nervously played with the hem of her dress, while the young man did all he could to hold a conversation with her. It was evident that in the light blush that covered her cheeks she had feelings for the boy, and judging by the way he was gushing over her, his feelings went pretty deep too. 

“Here you go guys, if you need anything else I’ll just be right over there,” you tell them with a smile. They thanked you, and you returned to your place behind the counter. You sighed deeply as you started to count down the register that was used earlier that day. Once this young couple was done, then it was time to get out of here. You were more than ready to get these shoes off your feet and sink neck-deep in a bath as hot as you could stand it in order to relieve some of the day's tension that was still evident in your back and legs from standing on your feet all day.

As you counted down the money in front of you, your eyes kept drifting over to the young couple sitting at the back table. You remember when Eric had taken you on your first date. It was at a restaurant much like this one. Then the night before you got married, he brought you back to the place where it all started. He was deployed to Iraq for another tour just three weeks after your wedding and returned in a flag-draped casket a year later.

It was one of the hardest paths you ever had to walk in your life. You were young, had little to no family, and Eric was your world, your whole life, and it seemed like so suddenly it was ripped violently away from you.

You swallowed hard and tried to remember to continue to count the money, crewing on your lower lip in concentration. 

It had been three years since Eric’s funeral, and you still hadn’t moved on. Sure, there had been prospects. You were still young, only 30, and you were single in a relatively small town outside of the greater city of Dallas. So it was no secret that you were not with anyone. You knew you should find someone and try to settle down again, but you just didn’t feel the same way Eric made you feel about anyone that had approached you so far. He was your first love. There was a whole there now, that you didn’t think would ever mend.

Seeing that young couple that looked so happy and so in love brought up a whole lot of feelings that you wished like hell you could bury because they still hurt. 

“Hey you, stop staring at the customers,” Jessica said, leaning against the counter with a smirk on her face. 

You give her your best bitch face and go back to putting the money bag in the safe under the counter. “I’m just making sure the customers don’t need anything.”

“Liar,” she said simply. “You know it’s been three years, Y/N.”

You looked up at her and sighed deeply as your eyes trained back to the young couple that were laughing together. 

“I know Jessica. I’ve thought about it. No one just… I don’t know, makes me feel the way Eric did.”

Jessica gave you a sympathetic look and threw her arm around your shoulder. She was working here with you when this place opened up right after you and Eric got married. She had been your friend ever since, and she was there with you through the grieving process, and she still kept a close eye on you all these years later.

“You know I’m only telling you this because I love you as a friend right?” she asked you, and you just stared at her. Afraid of what was about to come out of her mouth. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried to play matchmaker, and you didn’t know if you could go through that again.

“The reason you can’t find someone is because you're still holding on to him, Y/N. You have to let him go, let him rest!”

Your hand slipped up to the small silver locket that you kept around your neck. Eric had given it to you right before he left for your last deployment, and you never took it off. You knew she was right. You were still acting like you were a married woman. If you were ever going to move on, you were going to have to let him go.

“I know you’re right, but I don’t know how,” you tell her in earnest, as the young couple throws some money down on the table, and gathers up their coats to leave, waving at the two of you as they went. 

“I’ll tell you what, tonight after we finish up, we’re going to head down to the graveyard, and you're gonna tell him goodbye for real, and bury that locket, and let him go. Then I want you to move on!! You're so young, you deserve to be happy, Eric would want you to be happy.”

“I he would,” you tell her. Letting go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding, and wiping the stray tear away that fell down your face before you nod and agree to go.

It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, but after you got off work, Jessica got in her car and followed you to the graveyard. You did just like she said to do. You told him goodbye and took the Locket with a spoon you’d grabbed from the diner that they were going to throw away, and dug a small hole, burying the locket, and a part of your heart forever. 

When you got home to your small house and got in the shower to wash away the day, deciding to forgo the bath because it was so late, and you were exhausted, you felt a little more at peace than you had in years. Even though there would always be a part of you that missed Eric. You hoped this time that you could let him go enough to finally move on.

You wanted what that couple had tonight, you wanted a friend and a companion. Maybe now you could start to let yourself be happy again. At least the weight that you had been carrying for three years felt just a little lighter, and you closed your eyes that night in hopes that tomorrow was going to be the start of a better way of life for you.

You never know, maybe Mr. Right will just walk right in the diner tomorrow. Then again, would you ever be that lucky?

Forever Tags: 

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Series Tag List: 

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen x reader #jensen x you #rpf #real person fiction #x reader inserts #spn fanficiton #spn fanfic #spn series #jensen ackles x reader series #jawritter #dean winchester #where the green grass grows

[5uptic]

Hi! I moved here cause I can’t get a lick of sense from the people on bird app. Idk how to feel about this shitshow that I just witnessed. I just remembered there were more reasons as to why that person was banned. That person initially harassed a member of 5up’s community in which the mod defended. So the group disliked the mod too and continued to shit on them privately and publicly.

Next, thirst tweets can be funny to some. But others find it really uncomfortable which is understandable. They have made suggestive remarks about the pink man and even steve before (that peeps overlooked) but it’s not like the cc themselves are bothered (?). So idk even anymore.

I’m don’t know if I’m making any sense. I’m sorry for the spam ;( This is just the first time I just felt genuinely anxious seeing all the things said about 5up so I word vomited here.

oh my god. i had an entire response done and tumblr just GLITCHED in my face WHY

hey anon, don’t worry about it!!! tbf, i feel pretty much the same. i think the situation as a whole is pretty frustrating to see, especially with how it blew out of proportion in every way possible. honestly, feel free to vent in my inbox whenever you want!

with that said, though,

(because this will be kinda long, i guess)

overnight, it became clear that the nsfw part of the issue is not really an issue, besides being the recurrent meme for this situation. i read from various people that 5up explicitly said that he didn’t have a problem with the nsfw tweets when discussing this with the mods, but that he took that decision based on the harassment, which. ok another can of worms. to me, the thing is... smart fandom behavior is to always push away the things that you don’t wanna see. so nsfw jokes/tweets might be not of your liking. what should you do? the correct answer is, unfollow/mute/block the people that make them, and in general every person that you wouldn’t wanna share the fandom with. that’s to me the only way you can genuinely enjoy fandom as intended lol. but there are cases in which we do not take the smartest option. and we somehow make this our problem, which is the most typical case of twitter entitlement, that reads like “you’ve posted something i don’t like. Prepare To Die.”

when i saw the tweet pictured above in the thread, i was like ooooooooooh so this is just. typical twitter drama. which already highlights the entire issue with this... this is just twitter drama. why is twitch involved? how did the person get banned in both of 5up’s channels? if it were for twitter drama, or this person tweeted something i don’t like!, i’m sure hundreds of people would be arbitrarily banned. so that’s why it’s handled differently on twitch. now, i don’t know jasfer, like i’ve never talked to the guy, but i’m familiar with him. as someone who’s been a fan of 5up for like a year now, i know he’s been here from the start and he’s also a beloved chat member and person in the twitter portion of the fandom. it feels like insult to injury because it wasn’t that jasfer had a bad reputation in 5up’s chat or a bad relationship with most people in it. it’s just... such shitty luck on their part tbh lol

imagine if it were anybody else, like, two randoms on twitter. the best outcome to that would probably be an eventual block on both sides so they just stop talking about it all the time, right? except that this didn’t happen here because one of them happened to be a mod for a chat that the other person frequented. i think by now you know i don’t agree with the decision at all, then.

thing is, i can understand everyone’s sides and empathize with everyone. i understand why 5up stood up by his mods, i understand why the mod was anxious/felt targeted and resorted to this option, i understand jasfer’s anger/sadness from the outcome of the situation. but i’d still side with jasfer, nonetheless, because he’s the only one with no power here. the most that he can do is bring attention to what happened, but he can’t unban himself, or return in other account and expect everything to go well, etc. and it’s like, urgh. like if i was on their place i would be genuinely devastated lol.

now, i could be talking completely out of my ass, right? because i don’t know what really happened. maybe jasfer genuinely did incredibly shitty things and corralled the mod team and 5up into taking that drastic decision. but that’s just another part of the whole twitter drama of it all, isn’t it? see, when i was more active in twitter (in another fandom), if you didn’t like someone/something you’d talk shit about them in your rant. that’s how it went, and everybody did the same. in that part, i can understand how things grew out of proportion, but again, does anyone know what really happened besides the mods and jasfer? not really. and it’s hard to take a real stance because the whole thing happened on private twitter accounts. which yet again highlights how bad of a decision banning jasfer from both 5up twitch channels was, because, how are we ever gonna know if it was deserved? jasfer didn’t do anything wrong in chat, which is what should matter. and if the so called harassment (that we have to take 5up’s word for it!) happened in private rant accounts... is. is it really harassment? or like, was it just a case of people being (understandably) reactionary and doing what everyone else usually does in twitter dot com?

and the fact that the mod liked this tweet afterwards... isn’t that just incredibly petty? celebrating a personal victory after banning someone that has no say in the matter? jasfer said they tried contacting 5up through discord, and only made the thread days later because they never got a response. so it’s clear that 5up (understandably!) took their mods’ side and was loyal to them, but it came at the cost of what could’ve been a smarter, better decision for everyone involved. but now, because jasfer was left with no tools other than bring attention to his side of the story, twitter blew it out of proportion and everyone is very kindly sending dead threats to everybody involved.

sigh. it’s just... a big mix of terrible luck and bad choices. i usually agree with 5up when it comes to twitter stuff, but making it seem like he’s going against everyone is ignoring the fact that some twitter drama should’ve never made it to his twitch channel(s) anyways, and that a better decision should’ve been taken. now it’s just the worst of both worlds and no one got anything good out of it. like, arguably, the mod got what they wanted, but also got multiple death threats too. i doubt there’s any chance of jasfer ever coming back to 5up’s chat, at least not in the way it was before. because of the twitter thread including sapnap and this being a bad decision in general, a bigger audience now regards 5up badly and this will probably be a passing mention in the eventual cancelling 5up thread when twitter gets boring enough. like, meh. it’s just a mess to watch and it’s just depressing from every angle.

#answered #5up #getting banned from 5up's chat though... don't threaten me with a good time #(i keep dropping hints i hate 5up's chat) #don't show in the tag.... that's fine...... :(

[incarnateirony]

An anti dressed up as a shipper, an idiot, and a terf all walk into the same bar.

It’s the same picture person.

A lesson.

Warning: if the title doesn’t give it away, queerphobic content comes up in this from the other party being documented.

So, some of you may have watched a twitter exercise yesterday.

It started simple: concern trolling white knight “for the writers” comes in to angrily declare fans doing something tagged in support of them about Destiel was “out of line.” She claimed things like “Misha was gaslit into supporting Destiel”, and pulled all kinds of stunts.

She immediately got on a soap box yelling “I HAVE A LIT CRIT DEGREE, I KNOW AUTHOR INTENT” of course implying she knew better than EVERYONE around her how to read text. She then pulled, of all things, @chill-legilimens​​ ‘ article about the network gods gutting the show out of the internet, and somehow misread it SO FUCKING BADLY -- SO FUCKING BADLY -- she thought it aligned with HER. She argued that fans influenced the writers, essentially, and basically pulled the exact opposite of the very clearly delivered message there out. When it was pointed out we know this author and even sometimes help edit their pieces, and she was, flat out misreading it while bragging about how good she is at deciphering text, it turned into a SHITSHOW.

I had watched her give a large group of queer people 2 days of runaround, while they tried to be polite, and similarly tried to prove everything while she proved nothing. Just preached. After 2 days of them exhausting themselves on her, I came in doing my blunt & savage thing, because fuck civility culture when it’s used by oppressors. Of course, she immediately started tone policing, while herself being an arrogant shitbrick the whole way.

She continued to preach author intent and talk down about “headcanons.” You see, she knew the authors very well. Berens’ name was mentioned in passing, and she came back with. “Who’s Berens? Is that the author of the article?” after Deirdre’s name had been directly cited in associated with it about 15 times.

(credit: @judgehangman​ )

But it gets better. She started pulling the “authors have said Dean is straight.” line. Now, at this point, we had already sourced her at least four pieces of information (quite formally too: SPN Official DVD Collection Season 8 episode 13 creative commentary, Edlund and Sgriccia; Dissent Magazine The Attack Queers Bob Berens review; the books in the office with screenshots, and more.) So we issued one simple request: Okay. Source.

For the next-- I shit you not-- 10 hours she bricked the thread to death, finding any and EVERY rabbit hole she could try to venture down. For the first hour or two a few of us tried to actually debate her newly raised points, but still gave reminder that we were waiting for her source. Every tweet was an opportunity for her to drop a 15 tweet thread trying to derail onto a new topic, and often clarifying she had no idea about any of it (Edlund, Sgriccia, Berens, Dabb--who she couldn’t spell the name of--and Deirdre all became an amorpheous blob in her retelling that she swore she looked at sources and wasn’t convinced, while she crossed all the data and comments about the sources). She tried to challenge that anyone could know all the writers and episodes just because she proved she couldn’t, even when multiple people expressed it to her extremely rapidly with not just author and director listings, but cross references on when they overlapped and major elements (like the 15.20 shot 19 tree being the Kim Manners memorial tree). She randomly babbled about Kripke once. Lied her way through and claimed those sources were vague. Etc.

But at some point, I decided, we’re not playing this distraction game. You wanted a debate, you claim you have a lit crit degree, and thus know the entire art is Argumentation. A source, if you’re declaring knowing author intent. One source. Any time she dropped a distraction tweet, I replied to her thread with things like a list of our sources vs her lack of any and a reminder. I installed a counter ticker. How many times had she been asked to either recant her point or give a single source?

Someone made a list of the logical fallacies she used in the argument. It was two tweets long and still missed several obvious ones. That didn’t stop her. Neither did the dozens of requests for a source or a recant. Onwards, she marched, derailing time and again. She brought in a buddy to try to distract, but he fell out real quick when he realized “the burden of proof lies on the arguer” shot him and her both in the feet in record time and he ducked out. 

Other greatest hits came out like “Dubs (Dabb’s) fanfic books”, and calling the ability to list authors and episodes “headcanons.”

Over time, the dialogue shifted: see, she came in trying the snide “enjoy your headcanons” downtalk, but as time and time again she was pulverized on every point about the show, or the authors, or anything else while STILL never even giving a single source to even her FIRST POINT and running distractions, it became a reality-- she was told, “We’ll enjoy our canon and author intent. You can enjoy your headcanon of... Dabb’s fanfic books and Lord Barons and the writers being collective hallucinations and whatever else in your hot takes about the show content itself” and she FLIPPED SHIT. 

As the ticker for sources approached 100, she started becoming flustered. Before that, even, she started repetitively misgendering Ezra (no tumblr to link in), and Ezra screenshot their bio of they/them and asked them to adjust. Ignored. Ezra linked this request and asked it to be addressed again, and again, and again. 13 times. Ezra linked it 13 times. She even replied to several of them. No avail. No change. Not until literally any and every tweet in her vicinity either had “source?” or “address gender?” for her to reply to did she flee there, and write some giant write-around of “oh, I didn’t see this, sorry” but still refused to actually use it. Or “I’ll use the right one now.” No, just completely strickened pronouns from her vocabulary with Ezra moving forward, after not one mistake, not two, not five, but 13 answers.

At this point, I notice a trend: throughout the entire conversation, she had flip flopped on my pronouns, clearly confused as to what to call me. As I generally don’t care (honestly I prefer he but meh), it didn’t ping me as something to react to while she switched religiously between “he” and “she”. But I realized now, despite all of that confusion: she never once thought to use “they.” Also earlier we found tweets of hers that, while now declaring herself bisexual, she used troublesome wording in the past to blur the line on if she was an ally or, as she phrased it “maybe less than 100% straight in the bell curve” in other conversations.

I mutter about this on the side to Ezra and some friends, but continue on towards the 100 ticker that was the goal to show people in this digital terrarium how disingenuous most people you argue with are -- an exhibit for the class. They know they’re lying and have been caught, but will not cede to admit “oops, I guess I was wrong.” but rather stick, unironically, to their own headcanons about things. After all, they vaguely sorta apologized even if suddenly just refusing to use any pronouns at all on Ezra after that. And she’s so quick to disappear into 15 tweet bombs of distraction trying to play victim for being held accountable at this point, we just didn’t jump to a conclusion on that, alarming as it is.

So. You know. Source.

At this point, she RANDOMLY starts evoking the fact that like, How Dare, She Watched Gay Men Die To AIDS, She Is A Great Philanthropist How Dare How Dare. 

I’m sorry, did you just evoke the blood of our dead to run away from the most basic scrap of accountability in what is literally the first wave of a lit debate because for the last 10 hours you have refused to take the necessary steps to move on to the next point? Did you... just... evoke the ghosts of gay men that were genocided to, essentially, pull up a smokescreen and run away from being party to queer erasure? Or even just? Giving a source? or admitting you were wrong on one point in a debate? Wow, you really just did that. 

Naturally, people involved got pissed. Her Sources ticker hit 100, but at this point, all that haunted her was how completely fucking vile and inappropriate that was in this discussion. 

She got blocked. She then tried to glom onto anyone that hadn’t blocked or muted her and run the same argumentation points she had earlier been decimated in the argument with, while yelling “I ship Destiel too! I wanted them to have sex too! Why does this make me the bad guy?” around the block and hoping nobody actually read the thread. She tried to pitch the “headcanons” point of view again, hoping a new audience would lick her boots. She was, largely, ignored; given a few more comments about her leaving the conversation losing all points and only covered in the blood of our dead she was so proud of; blocked by a few more. (unsurprisingly, if you check her actual tweet history, she seems more invested in Megstiel but)

This is when CommaSameleon -- a professor with two lit degrees and a primary focus in teaching the art of Argumentation -- literally -- stepped in. She initially tried to engage the fact that, well, this woman not only can’t argue out of a paper sack but wasn’t even arguing, she was just running in circles and distracting from all the points and hadn’t addressed a single lit point directly while preaching down at people. But Sam, also, noticed something. This woman kept changing things like “queerphobia” to “homophobia.” Sam mentioned this kinda puts off TERF vibes (I think Sam picked up on the gendering thing herself too.)

Her response? Which she deleted since? But Discord’s embed helpfully saved?

Her inacted non-apologies remain weak, especially in any form of debate be it lit or now queer topics.

Oh I’m sorry, let’s recap her viewpoints: TERF is a slur. “They” is made up and should be avoided at all costs. The blood of dead gay men are a token to use in a lit debate you’re avoiding responsibility in. After this, “authors are headcanons” is suddenly not your worst take, but fascinating that you 13 times didn’t even read the blatant ass screenshot. And I mean, these weren’t subtle or easy to miss these 13 times.

100. She had 100 chances, literally, on a timer, to give a source or shut up with her platforming until she had one. Instead, she chose every rabbit hole she could manifest to disappear into, only to be met by another request for a source, and not moving on until we address the first points. We’ve given ours, now you give yours. Instead, you choose this. This is the hill you choose to die on, rather than admitting, “Sorry, I guess I was wrong” or “I guess I heard that somewhere, my bad.” 100 chances. 13 direct QT requests to address gender which she replied to but didn’t reply to until cornered (and still didn’t, truly, reply to), and “TERF is a slur.” Oh, and after waving around the dead men’s blood she also suddenly Can’t Be A Terf Because She Adopted Two Trans Kids. Lord help those children. Or, you know, the more realistic thing is she’s just manifesting all kinds of bullshit at this point to save face, which is probably why she deleted all the related tweets that show she’s a giant-ass TERF.

So anyway, this is very much a lesson on:

Paying attention to how people manipulate conversation to erase genuine discussion and debate.

Paying attention to WHY they do it. Motivation on methods and tactics will clear up a lot.

Figuring out HOW they try to sound woke about shit and when it’s entirely fucking vile and inappropriate to pull

And by all above points, figuring out that these people are among us, and how NOT to let them influence your conversations.

I don’t care if it’s about a discussion on a ship or show or anything else. People do this. A lot. Extremely dedicatedly, if the 100 asks doesn’t make that clear. 

Stop letting people railroad your conversations with disingenuous bullshit.

So anyway in honor of this I made everyone a gif

Use at will. It’s tagged anti-terf if you want to use the search feature on it.

UPDATE: 

Just went and checked. She went and deleted literally her entire side of the conversation, hundreds if not thousands of tweets. Luckily, Ezra mentioned repeatedly -- and I do trust them inherently -- that they were saving the entire conversation, so that zip file exists somewhere. How fascinating, after she accused us that we would want to delete tweets. Someone realized they had a bad look and giant failure all around.

Also, a related anon that links to an earlier part of this conversation I didn’t even document where she was crying about “cis erasure” [x] This shit went on so long I legit forgot about that.

#supernatural #spn #destiel #anti-terf #debate

[chalkrevelations]

Back, finally, with Word of Honor, Episode 11, which involved a lot of waving my hands around over precious button Zhang Chengling and his concern about whatever ridiculous argument between his Murder Dads left his shifu in a snit and must be solved right this minute. I really think if he could’ve just pushed their heads together like two Ken dolls to make them kiss and make up, he would have. Didi, I could eat you up with a spoon, although not in the creepy way that Du Pusa threatens. I promise.

First, though, due diligence: Spoilers, possibly likely for the entire show, not just this ep, so scroll away and come back later if you are still, at this point in the game, trying to watch the whole 36.5 eps unspoiled. Also, this is hella long. Strap in. Hashtag long post (remorseful).

First thing I actually want to do is point out a couple of scenes that I found particularly striking for various reasons. The first one is not quite the opening scene - which is super-brief and involves Yueyang’s prep for the Heroes Conference, Gao Shan (AKA Chengling’s bully-in-chief) being smug about Yueyang’s upcoming ascendance (oh boy, are you in for a surprise, you little schmuck), and Gao Chong’s extreme weariness at the idea of Yueyang’s upcoming ascendance. Gao Chong is very tired, y’all. It’s been a long 20 years. There’s also a ginormous sword on display, like Yueyang is now having a dick-measuring contest with who they think is the disciple of the Changming Sword Immortal (and oh boy, are you guys in for another surprise. I’m not sure what part of “immortal” y’all don’t understand). But I digress - as I said, this is a very brief scene, and then we cut back to Luo Mansion, where we left Ghost Valley and Lunatic Wen at the end of the last ep. Everyone is gone except for Wen Kexing, who’s still plotting, Beauty Ghost, who’s trying to stay tf out of this current shitshow as much as possible (good luck with that), and Tragicomic Ghost, who is totally and completely Done With This Shit. She berates WKX for acting crazy, he gets snappy back – I feel like their relationship is maybe a little bit fraught at this point – and Beauty Ghost attempts to soothe the waters, leading to an eyeroll from Tragicomic Ghost with a directive to stand the hell up and stop being scared of this idiot child throwing his weight around. WKX dismisses Tragicomic Ghost so he can plan a Very Secret Mission for Beauty Ghost in secret. WKX is … he is super-tired at this point. Painfully, achingly tired. I would almost say weary. We can see it in Gong Jun’s face. It’s a nice subtle bit of acting, and it definitely says something about WKX’s relationship with these women that he’s willing and able to show it in front of them, even as he’s still throwing his weight around.

Anyway, Liu Qianqiao proves her smarts by showing her hand just enough for WKX and us to see that she’s seen through the Lunatic Wen act to the utility of chokin’ out a dude as a warning, to try keeping Changing Ghost in line (good luck with that), but she also assures all of us that she only wants to serve the Ghost Valley Master and has no agenda of her own. WKX assures her that he has everything under control (Uh … huh. OK, my dude) and tells her he has a task for her, before detouring into a quiz about her disguise technique (learned from Qin Huaizhang, Zhou Zishu’s shifu at Siji Manor, and this is probably a tipoff that the Very Secret Mission will involve disguising herself), about Siji Manor, and about why she never visited there. We get some interesting vague hints about her past, including the fact that she met Qin Huaizhang when she was “little” and he took pity on her “disfigurement,” according to both the Youku and Netflix English subs. @coralcoloratura pulled out 童年时 (tóngnián shí) from the Chinese subs for me, which does mean “childhood.” Given that the going story is Yu Qiufeng’s wife threw acid in LQQ’s face over their affair, this opens up some questions about how old LQQ actually was when all that happened. Viki subs, per @janedrewfinally, add that she says she treated Qin Huaizhang to a meal, so she couldn’t have been too young. But Qin Huaizhang dies when ZZS is just 16, and LQQ can’t be any older than ZZS, and is likely younger (good lord, I just checked actor ages, and Ke Naiyu is 7 years younger than ZZH, so that’s probably not a good age gap to port over to the show, because just. No.). All this leads me to place LQQ at somewhere between Zhang Chengling’s age and Gu Xiang’s age (at most) when this whole tragic backstory happened, which is still pretty freakin’ young, and I can see why she would consider herself a child, at least metaphorically, in terms of naïvete, if not literally. I don’t know how much exploration has been done about this, on the fannish side of things, but it seems like an area rich for exploration. Also, I CANNOT TELL YOU how much I now want to read the AU of WKX and LQQ both actually being brought to Siji Manor at various times by Qin Huaizhang and staying there. I suspect that with those two shidi backing him, ZZS might never have had to go to Prince Jin in the first place. (Clearly this makes some things problematic, including A-Xiang, but I keep thinking about ZZS, WKX and LQQ growing up together … And anyway, I’m ALSO willing to read the AU(s) where WKX’s storyline stays the same, but LQQ does come to Siji Manor – both the AU where she and ZZS together manage to save the sect, and the AU where she goes with them to Jin, and the kind of weapon she could be for ZZS there, as he runs Tian Chuang. Who’s writing all this? Anyone? Anyone?) Anyway, when WKX asks why she didn’t visit Siji Manor, LQQ tells WKX that she’s a ghost now and doesn’t want to think about the living world anymore, which is probably a way of saying she wishes she had gone there and doesn’t want to talk about her many and varied bad decisions back in the day; it also acts as an unknowing reinforcement of that bright line WKX is desperately trying to maintain for himself between the world of ghosts and the world of humans. Plus it gives him the chance to speak the very portentous line that “Yes, we’re ghosts, and ghosts disappear in the light,” pulling the theme of light back in, again and giving us all kinds of foreshadowing. Cut away as he leans in to whisper her mission to her.

The other really striking scene, for me, happens near the end of the ep, when Gao Chong visits the shrine room, with the memorial tablets of his various brothers and friends. This hit me not just because of Hei Zi’s acting (which is great, don’t get me wrong) but also because this is a scene that reflects both backward and forward in the show - back to ZZS in Ep 1 and forward to the two scenes that Zhao Jing will have in this same room – as well as giving us all sorts of subtle clues about relationships throughout the show. So first of all, we see, in a shot that will mean more the deeper we get into the show, tablets for Zhen Ruyu and Gu Miaomiao (or, “his wife,” as the Youku subs call her, and this is me, rolling my eyes), who were apparently close enough to Gao Chong that he keeps memorial tablets for them on his home altar - which helps explain why WKX is so incensed that none of these Five Lakes Alliance assholes helped his parents when they were turned out of the Healer’s Valley, although that’s not something we would have known yet on a first watch through the show. Gao Chong lights some incense and apologizes to the tablet of Zhang Yusen for letting Zhang Chengling get kidnapped. He talks about waiting 20 years to learn the truth – which is kind of cryptic, but probably means the truth about who poisoned his sword before the spar with Rong Xuan, which we hear about in a later scene this ep – and gets a little bit salty about the fact that it doesn’t matter if everyone else doesn’t believe him, but why didn’t Zhang Yusen believe him? Again, I’m assuming this is about Gao Chong’s protestations that he’s not the one who put poison on his sword. We also learn in this same ep – from Chengling – that Zhang Yusen’s break with the Five Lakes Alliance seems to have at least started that far back, and that Yusen would have been at Mount Qingya to stand with Rong Xuan against his other Alliance brothers, if Yusen’s shifu hadn’t broken his legs so that he couldn’t travel there. (Yusen clearly had some strong feelings about this, if that’s what it took to get him to sit still for it. Also, it makes me wonder how Ye Baiyi’s feelings about Chengling might change if he ever learned that Chengling’s father intended to defend and stand with a guy who Ye Baiyi considered his own child, as well as his disciple.)

Gao Chong then proceeds to have a little crisis of faith – he’s very tired, y’all, it’s been a long 20 years – and talks about how no one understands him, and he’s old, and everyone’s dead. He also yells at Rong Xuan’s tablet, calling Rong Xuan da-ge but also saying he’s sorry he ever met him, but then there’s this brief little moment after, when he seems a little bit shocked at himself for saying it out loud, which reminds me, honestly, of the moment in CQL (we’ve all seen The Untamed, right, I don’t have to put spoiler warnings for it, right?) when Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are in the Yunmeng Jiang memorial hall and Wei Wuxian talks about Yu Ziyuan’s punishments back in the day, then pats his own mouth and says “My fault, my fault, my fault” before bowing to her tablet. Like, yes, their relationship was multiple levels of fucked-up, and his reaction is not out of place given some of his continuing neuroses, but also, this is just not a thing you do, speaking ill of the dead to their faces. I’m sure Gao Chong does regret ever meeting Rong Xuan, and the way that led to the building of the Armory and the Five Lakes Alliance to guard it, and the position that ultimately put Gao Chong in - not to mention that if he never met Rong Xuan he never would have accidentally killed him. But you can’t say things like that OUT LOUD to the MEMORIAL TABLET. Then contrast this to Zhao Jing, who literally takes a piss on the tablet in one of the later episodes. Because he’s the worst. And THEN, Gao Chong kneels and talks to the tablets of Zhang Yusen and Lu Taichong, his dead Five Lakes Alliance brothers, saying they must have met again in the netherworld, and that they’re probably swearing about him right now, and this is the point when I sit straight up and exclaim, out loud, “Fuck. Me. This is Zhou Zishu’s breakdown at the mirror in Episode 1.” When he talks to Jiuxiao about how Jiuxiao and Jing’An must have met again in the afterlife by now and are probably discussing what an awful shixiong ZZS is, right? And then Gao Chong even laughs bitterly like ZZS, and cries like ZZS, and I just. OK. FINE, show. I’ll try to go a little easier on Gao Chong, because you’re clearly linking him to ZZS, here, and I’m willing to forgive ZZS for anything. I suppose I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t try to extend just a little bit of the same grace to Gao Chong.

So, that’s a lot of verbiage, and I haven’t even gotten to Wenzhou yet, but trust me, I have some things to say about them. While WKX has been terrorizing the troops, ZZS left Han Ying’s place and immediately started drinking again, because that continues to be the best way – in combo with his Nails – he knows to kill himself by increments, but so sad, he’s run out of wine as he wanders the marketplace, alone and zhiji-less. Inside Yueyang, Chengling finds a note purporting to be from “Xu,” instructing him to meet at the North Gate that night, and like the little idiot they keep calling him (he really is too pure for this world), he takes it at face value. On his way that night, he runs into Gao Shan, who inadvertently almost saves him by interrupting his sneaking around to try to bully him back to his room. Something something food as bonding, because the lie Zhang Chengling comes up with is that he’s hungry (he’s not eating Yueyang’s food, and it’s not nourishing him), and he’s on his way to find something to eat (because he and his Murder Dads are in a mutually nourishing relationship, and that’s who he wants to be with). Also, no, he would prefer going to find something to eat for himself and not eating whatever Gao Shan will bring back to Chengling’s room. (A little bit, I’m sad there’s never any place to fit in some canon-complicit long-form enemies to failboats to lovers fic for these two. I have to admit, I would read it. Someone should do something with the tension between them, although I don’t really want it to be anything that will make Best Boy permanently sad.) Anyway, A-Xiang shows up just as Gao Shan is about to frog-march Chengling back to his room, and Gao Shan never sees her coming before he’s knocked out on the ground. A-Xiang is confused about the note but nevertheless helps Chengling get to where he’s supposed to meet “Xu,” whereupon she gets beat up and gets her didi took by the Scorpions. (There’s an interesting moment here where Pretty Arhat is fighting with A-Xiang and asks what her relationship is to Beauty Ghost, which whaaaaaat? THERE’S some backstory I need more on. I’m assuming this is based on A-Xiang’s hand-to-hand fighting style, which I think is the only thing Pretty Arhat has seen at this point, and exactly WHEN has she gotten so familiar with Beauty Ghost’s fighting style? Also, I like the apparent nod to Beauty Ghost’s influence in raising A-Xiang (and we’ll see more of this).) Meanwhile, ZZS has been inexorably drawn to the place he left his child disciple child and is moping right outside of Yueyang, so he sees Pretty Arhat fly away with Chengling. Murder Dad 1 springs into action.

Yueyang disciples run around like ants whose hill has been kicked over, looking for Chengling in town, and two of them encounter Wen Kexing, out for a midnight stroll in a fetching pastel blue and green combo. They ask him about seeing a guy. With a pipa. Or maybe without a pipa. So maybe just a guy. Wen Kexing correctly deduces they’re asking about Phantom Musician Qin Song, who covered Pretty Arhat’s getaway by incapacitating everyone with his magic music. YY disciples are excited and tell WKX yes, this dude was involved in kidnapping Zhang Chengling! Y’all. WKX’s face when he hears that. He is not happy. Almost immediately, he spots Qin Song on a rooftop. Murder Dad 2 springs into action.

So, WKX the Ghost Valley Master finds Qin Song, asks him where Chengling is, crushes his playing hand, threatens to break every single bone in his body one at a time (meanwhile dropping the tidbit that he learned the number of bones in the human body from his dad), and tells him a little story about a time when – apparently – he asked another guy the same question (about WHO? has A-Xiang been kidnapped in the past, because that’s about the only other person I can imagine him being like this about?) and only had to break 80 bones before he got an answer. Meanwhile, ZZS actually finds Chengling, in the Scorpion lair where Du Pusa and Pretty Arhat have variously been molesting him (srsly, I feel like I should probably say something to a trusted adult Murder Dad), torturing him with unpleasant magic pixie dust, smacking him around (he loses a tooth, y’all), and waterboarding him. During all this, Pretty Arhat says she’s yet to meet a man who can stand up to waterboarding, and I’m kind of reminded of WKX’s scene threatening Qin Song, and I don’t know if that’s on purpose or not. Chengling literally spits in her face and proclaims that he’s the son of Zhang Yusen, none of whose sons are cowards, and about then, ZZS busts down the door like he’s WKX (by throwing Monster Jiang through it), tells the Scorpions he’s their daddy, and gets into a big fucking fight with all three of them. He flags a little bit somewhere in here as he starts having some Nail pangs (which, yeah, it must be getting about midnight, which is when that’s supposed to happen) and spits some blood, but he reassures Chengling and then tells the Scorpions no one can stop him from killing who he wants and getting what he wants (OK, Wei Wuxian …). Then he shoots some projectiles from some little contraption up his sleeve that we get a quick look at that I did not remember AT ALL from my first watch of the show but is literally like the gun hanging over the mantel in the first act. Huh. Anyway, he kills Monster Jiang, and Du Pusa (who didn’t give a shit about Monster Jiang OR Qin Song earlier), wants to capture him alive, supposedly so she can get revenge for them by teaching him how it feels “to want to die more than live.” Joke’s on you, lady – too late! That’s literally his constant state of being!

About this time, Qin Song comes flying through the doors – or what’s left of them – gasping his last breath as WKX makes his dramatic entrance. Chengling not only calls him “Wen-shu” but also has already figured out exactly how to manipulate Murder Dad 2 and tells him that in addition to kidnapping him, they also hurt ZZS. WKX is predictably murderous, and Du Pusa and Pretty Arhat run away and hide behind the skirts of Xie Wang’s robes as the Zombie Drug Man Army approaches. WKX tells ZZS to take Chengling and leave, ZZS refuses, and Xie Wang LITERALLY SAYS “IN LIFE AND DEATH YOU WILL NEVER PART. WHAT A TOUCHING MOMENT.” and I am DYING. Also, this will not be the last time ZZS/WKX will exhibit what Xie’er wants from his Awful Yifu. Anyway, Xie’er calls ZZS “Leader Zhou,” then tells WKX that he’ll tell them who he (Xie Wang) is if WKX tells them all who he is first. ZZS is Very Done with all of this and smoke bombs the Scorpions to escape. Xie’er shows he actually does know who both of them are – even though each of them doesn’t know everything about the other’s identity yet, and won’t for a while – by telling Du Pusa and Pretty Arhat that they’re the leader of Tian Chuang and the leader of the Ghost Valley and wondering “How did these two devils end up together?” Like calls to like, I guess.

OK, this is getting super-long, so I’m going to attempt to wrap up with the actual Wenzhou material. We cut to Murder Dads and Chengling sitting in the forest, around a campfire, and Chengling is in heaven, back with his family. He’s super-emotional, and ZZS is all, come on, be a man, don’t cry (OK, crybaby). WKX gives some campfire-cooked rabbit? maybe? to ZZS, who starts a precedent by passing it to Chengling. Please, A-Xu. WKX wants to feed his laopo, will you eat something, ffs? Chengling, still emotional, tells them that he knows they’re the only ones who are sincerely kind to him, that Five Lakes Alliance has all kinds of agendas and none of them care about him, and nobody has asked him what he wants. (I know, bb, they were awful.) ZZS asks what he wants, and Chengling says he wants to learn martial arts, to get revenge, and to not be a useless child anymore. Oh god, the cut to WKX here. His face, y’all. He is not cool with the fact that Chengling thinks he can’t be a child anymore, and probably with whatever role he (WKX) had in it. He is so sad. It’s killing me. However, it’s not as if WKX has lost his edge, and he also pounces, asking Chengling if something happened that made him suspicious of the Alliance. Chengling spills that his dad already didn’t trust them and also told him not to trust anyone ever, but he trusts his Murder Dads! This kid, I tell you. He tells them that his dad hid the Mirror Lake Glazed Armor in his stomach and starts getting ready to cut it out for them before ZZS stops him. He tells them Yusen gave him a letter for the Changming Sword Immortal detailing Rong Xuan’s injury (and we get our first iteration of the story of the battle between the Five Lakes Alliance brothers and Rong Xuan, the poison on the sword, and how that turned Rong Xuan evil). Per Chengling, the original argument was about the Combined Six Cultivation Method. Also per Chengling, the Alliance bothers should have been responsible for Rong Xuan after that, but no one stood up for him – I mean, Zhang Yusen would have, but his legs were broken. We learn that the poisoned sword that injured Rong Xuan belonged to Gao Chong. ZZS looks taken aback, but this all just CONFIRMS WKX’s SUSPICIONS.

Cut away for another scene. Cut back. ZZS has suddenly remembered that he’s pissed off and that someone (else, not him) is sleeping on the couch tonight. Earlier, they were sat in order of Chengling, ZZS, WKX. Now Chengling has been put between them. WKX asks for wine, A-Xu is being passive-aggressive and ignoring him before finally handing the wine gourd to Chengling to pass to WKX. He won’t even look at WKX. It is hilarious, particularly as he only remembered he was mad after they’d all eaten dinner, which WKX cooked, and the pair of them made sure their child was OK. Chengling wants to know if they fought and tells them there’s nothing confidants can’t resolve. He’s in full puppy mode. He tells WKX to hurry up and comfort ZZS, because you know he looks tough on the surface but he’s got the softest heart! Didn’t you teach me that tough women can’t resist clingy men? ZZS’s indignant little face at this is a picture. Chengling offers to apologize for WKX. WKX’s face is all fondness for Chengling, except for the eyebrows, which are doing the Tragic Sadness Eyebrows at ZZS. ZZS is all, OK, fine, although he immediately changes the subject and starts talking about the kidnapping attempt. He tells Chengling that the world is dangerous right now, and the safest place for him is Yueyang Sect. ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS? Chengling sadly nods. My little dude, c’mon. ZZS’s Nails are bothering him and WKX takes the chance to feed him qi, which ZZS accepts – might I note - without complaint. WKX waxes rhapsodic about A-Xu’s shoulder blades, and says he once saw a dead body with beautiful shoulder blades. Smashcut to a flashback of two people who we don’t yet know are Zhen Ruyu and Gu Miaomiao dead on the ground. Although this takes place immediately after the scene of Gao Chong at the altar, when the first tablets we see are Zhen Ruyu’s and Gu Maiomiao’s, we also don’t know yet to connect those names to these bodies. Tricksy, show. We see Zhen Yan place his hand on Gu Miaomiao’s back, and WKX’s voiceover talks about how he could tell she was a beauty despite the blood everywhere. ZZS interrupts this morbid tale to say they should let the past stay in the past, and then tells WKX, “My condolences,” even though WKX hasn’t actually mentioned anywhere in the story about this dead body that it was even anyone he knew, let alone someone he was related to. Because A-Xu isn’t stupid. Immediately after this - after saying they should leave the past in the past - ZZS asks WKX who he is. WKX goes into his Philanthropist Wen evasion spiel. ZZS shakes his head, visibly steels himself, and apparently comes to the decision to model the behavior he’s trying to encourage by coming clean about his real name, his relationship to Siji Manor, all of his bad decisions, his choking guilt over the deaths of all the Siji Manor disciples, and his reign of state-sanctioned terror as founder and leader of Tian Chuang. Notably, the very first word Chengling speaks to ZZS after hearing this rundown of supposed and actual crimes is to call him “Shifu” again to get his attention before asking for more info about the Scorpions. THIS CHILD. MY HEART.

ZZS tells them both, “I spent half my life alone, doing things I didn’t want to do and killing people I didn’t want to kill,” and I literally want to reach into the screen and shake WKX, because OMG LAO WEN. You are reflections of each other, and he’s baring his soul, and you’re going to continue to be so afraid that he’s not going to accept every part of you that it’s going to be episodes and episodes before you open up, and even then, only after he figures it out on his own. :hands: To make things even more OBVIOUS, ZZS then asks Chengling if he still wants ZZS to be his shifu after learning all of this, and Chengling doesn’t even hesitate, he says “Of course,” and ZZS and I are both about to cry. UGH. Zhang Zhehan, your face. It’s killing me. This is a man seeing the hope of resurrection for the sect he was convinced he had ground into dust. ZZS and Chengling are both so busy being emotional at each other that WKX has to take matters into his own hands, encouraging Chengling to bow, and we get a real bow to shifu this time, in a scene that once again mirrors the later scene when Zhen Yan makes his bow to Qin Huaizhang to become a Siji Manor disciple.

ZZS tells Chengling, all right, then. You are the first disciple of the sixth generation. (SHIXIONG. NO PRESSURE.)

End ep.

#zhou zishu #wen kexing #zhang chengling #beauty ghost #liu qianqiao #gao chong #gao shan #du pusa #pretty arhat #qin song #gu xiang #xie wang #tragicomic ghost #luo fumeng #qin huaizhang #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

[angesaurus]

I still have to pay over $1440 for daycare next month even though we have no idea when she’ll get to go back. I had also prepaid for lunches so that’s another $57. (And keep your comments to yourself about what we can do because there are some nosy af anons out there - we signed a contract last year when they reopened and in order to keep her spot, we have to pay the full price even if we are out unless the school itself has to close for longer then 2 weeks). It’s still a business and she still has to pay her employees. But I can still be mad about it. And lunch is a wash I guess since it was ordered weeks ago.

If Gavin is negative, he has to get tested AGAIN and stay out longer. Oh and we had to administer the tests ourselves. I’m a little annoyed we got zero prior warning. The woman said nothing on the phone. The website said a clinician would be doing it. So who even knows if we did them right. Watch all 3 tests be inconclusive because I don’t have experience sticking things up noses!!! The nurse at school said ideally you want him to be positive because it’s a less quarantine time and he wouldn’t need to get tested again (as long as no symptoms). In what FUCKED up world are we living in. I appreciate the steps the district is taking but Jesus Christ. Also the nurse and attendance clerk seemed so grateful which just tells me no other parents are being as cautious or providing info when someone in their household is positive. The nurse said she wasn’t even sure how to choose the exposure date for him because of how close of a contact it is. You’re telling me no other student has reported a sibling positive case?!?! If he’s positive, it’s going to be a shitshow.

I’m mad. We do what we are supposed to. Our poor kids have had barely any interaction with anyone besides their grandparents so we can keep them in school/daycare. Gavin does soccer which is masked and aside from playing, the kids are expected to distance and its outside. They can’t even high five after games. Dan and I hardly go anywhere. I can count the times we’ve socialized on two hands (combined!!!!) since March 2020. We don’t go to the mall. I went to ONE baby shower this year (which isn’t even the reason this is happening!) and masked up the WHOLE time even though NO ONE else did!!! We still haven’t gone to any type of restaurant. I haven’t even fucking left the house (aside from the testing place and walk to the bus stop) since LAST Sunday.

Meanwhile - everyone I know is having parties and going to brunch and having playdates and traveling and going to sporting events. Vacation (like international travel to all inclusive resorts - I don’t give a fuck if you’re going to an airb&b or a cabin or camping. These people are literally going to islands! Must be nice!!). We have our Disney vacation that’s been planned for almost 2 fucking years, that’s been pushed back TWICE and I’m still debating if we should lose the money for it (close to $10K for 6 people). Dan and I cancelled two other trips. Our last date night (that didn’t involve eating at the house) was target. We work from home. Dan is not even going back to in person. He only has to go for the testing days in June!

And I feel guilty for all of the above because I know none of it matters because we’re all healthy still and have no symptoms and so many people have died or now have such low qualify of life because of this shitty virus. And I should be so grateful that this is the first time any of us have had to quarantine or test or really really deal with this. But we live a state away from family already and now the lack of help when I need it is even more apparent. I emailed HR to see about options for leave before I blow through some PTO. Dan of course has conferences this week.

Yesterday was awful. And I can’t get the shaky anxious feeling to go away and it won’t go away until we get our results back. I feel like I can’t even vent to my friends about it. Dan thinks now her test is wrong because no one is sick and only one other kid in her class is positive. I just don’t even know what to think. I’m so tired of this stupid virus that took over my life.

[wesavegotham]

So don’t hate me but I’m kinda liking damian’s animated versions better than his comic one I really like his comic one but after all the shit happening where he has been nerfed nonstop getting beat by Thomas Wayne Batman, the teen titans red hood (although Jason attacked from behind like a bitch) and now flatline beating him. Not to mention Bruce not being a father and Damian now Being blamed for everything when they all have no room to talk. God I was satisfied when his old team died in future.

This is going to be a really long post, my apologies in advance.

I absolutely get where you’re coming from. I personally still like comic Damian more because I feel like there is more nuance and layers to him compared to the animated universe Damian, but that is simply the fault of the limited time they could spent on him in the movies.

Movie!Damian certainly wins more fights than comic!Damian and was never regressed in any way that is comparable to the shitshow that was Teen Titans (2016).

You’re adressing a problem I have with comic!Damian too right now, a problem that I’ve already talked about with some people here on tumblr in private. Which is that for all the talk about what Damian can do the comics have rarely shown all those skills Damian should have being used in the actual story in recent years and that is frustrating. I find Damian’s arrogance interesting as long as I feel like he can at least back it up in some way, but in recent time he comes off as just an idiot because he has done almost nothing but fail and lose and the writers still have him act like he’s the greatest. But it doesn’t feel like he can back up his confidence anymore. At all.

If I had to name a skill that differentiates Damian from the other Robins right now then I could only list his skill to hide from Batman and that is a skill he only has for plot convenience. We don’t see him do anything to cover his tracks, we are only told that he somehow did it. And I’m pretty sure that the second this skill stops being convenient for the story it will vanish once again. It will probably end like it did with Jon, where Damian somehow hid so well that Jon said they would never find him in Teen Titans, when they wanted an excuse for Jon to not get involved with his friend’s fall into darkness, but now that DC wanted them to interact again all of that is forgotten and Jon has no problems finding Damian.

Damian is not the most social Robin, nor the most intelligent one and considering how he seemed to lose against everything and everyone in recent years I can’t say with a straight face that he’s the best at fighting or the most skilled. And that IS a problem. Damian will never be known for his social skills or his detective skills, those niches are already taken by Dick and Tim, but in theory he should be a great fighter or a highly skilled person. Damian has sacrificed his entire life for training, both in the league of assassins and during his time with the batfamily. But if Damian sucks at fighting (as in: he loses a lot more than he wins) and his skills play no significant role in advancing the plot, then what is the point of his character? Great, he’s good at drawing and likes manga now, but how will that help with a fighting tournament? Or with solving the mystery behind the league of lazarus? A protagonist is usually supposed to be able to change the situation he is in, that is why he’s the protagonist and not someone else. So what makes Damian so unique that only  he can solve the situation he finds himself in during Robin and not someone like Conner Hawke? Or what makes him unique in the batfamily? I hope Robin adresses that soon. 

Of course now one could say “He still has an unique position as Bruce’s biological child”, but that also was completely irrelevant in recent years. For all the moments since the start of Rebirth that had batfam-fans complaining that Damian was favored by DC because of his status as the only biological child of Bruce, there were actually very few interactions between the two. Stuff like Bruce talking about Damian or saying that he loves him was primarily found in scenes in which Damian was not present. Or it came way too late, like in Teen Titans (and Bruce refusing to hit Damian in the face because he is his child sets such a low bar, I refuse to acknowledge that as a sign of love)

If you look at how Bruce actually treats Damian or describes him then there is little love there. He ignored his 13th birthday, did nothing when Damian left him after the events of Justice League: No Justice, it had no impact on the Batman books at all, Bruce only called Damian for missions like two times, once in City of Bane (which was just so shitty, as I already explained in a previous post) and a second time in Detective Comics #1017 (He sent Damian to find a missing kid in a snow storm, while he dealt with something else), refused to comfort him at Alfred’s wake and when Bruce reflects on what happened in Teen Titans he blames most of it on Damian’s personality, both in Detective Comics #1030 and in Robin #1, and both times there is nobody questioning Bruce’s asessment. He really doesn’t have anything nice to say about Damian and apparently we are not supposed to disagree with him. So in summary: Damian seems to have no skills that make him indispensable for the batfamily, Bruce seems to have a very low opinion of Damian’s character and now that they have decided to give us Bruce searching for Damian the only reason for that seems to be that Bruce suddenly feels responsible for his child, even though that should have already been the case when Damian seperated from him in 2018 or at least directly after the second Teen Titans annual.

Even the kinda nice things Bruce says about Damian in Robin #1 can be called into question if you think about them. He says he has no doubt that Damian can take care of himself...and then we see Damian getting his heart ripped out at the end of the very same issue. Of course we know that Damian’s story doesn’t end there, so I won’t judge this too harshly yet, but to me this didn’t come off as Damian being able to take care of himself.

And I get letting Damian lose at the start of the tournament to establish Flatline as a threat and to make it clear that this tournament is not a game. I also get that Damian’s fight against King Snake was supposed to make sure that we still think of Damian as competent even though he loses later on. But at least for me, winning against King Snake was not cool or badass enough to make up for the fact that Damian was easily killed, in front of everyone, by a literal nobody like Flatline. King Snake is an old, blind guy, that didn’t show up in any DC comic I read since I started in 2018 and that was apparently beaten by Tim in his solo comic when he was 14 back in the 90s. Sorry, but that just isn’t impressive enough for me, especially since I’ve seen Damian lose so much in recent years. It doesn’t establish Flatline as a badass, it just makes me think that Damian is not that great of a fighter and shouldn’t be in this tournament.

I have some more thoughts on the tournament that make me wish that the arc will start being less about winning the tournament itself and more about something like taking down the league of lazarus soon (mainly the fact that a fight about being the best fighter is useless if the big guns are not taking part, the fact that you can only win by killing your oponent, which should be a problem for Damian and how nothing we know about the rewards for winning, becoming part of the league of lazarus und apparently immortality, is desirable for Damian), but this answer is already too long.

I’m going to be honest an admit that I did not like the ending of Robin #1 at all and that I hope that Williamson will show Damian being competent really soon because I’m not here for another pointless arc about Damian learning humility. I want to see Damian win for once, you know, like other protagonist usually do at the end of an arc and if Damian can’t even win or tell us what’s going on with him from his point of view in a book about him then I’m probably going to feel very disappointed by this book.

[internetmisfitsworld]

Ok but it just dawn on me how, in a way, everyone has something to win, but at the cost of losing something else.

Let's start with Diana.

Gain: She managed to dismantle Providence from the inside. Providence, who is the true controller of Blue Seed, the company who caused the death of her brother (illness from the chemical leak) and later, her parents (assassins were sent to kill them). So in a sense, a sweet revenge for her.

Loss: Had to lose ICA, her longtime employer.

47,

Gain: Get revenge on Providence, the company who had been using him and his brother Lucas as tools for their dirty works. Not to mention the amount of abuse and other shitty things they had to endure by Ort Meyer.

Loss: Lucas died.

Providence/Arthur Edwards,

Gain: Lucas, the man who had caused many damages, from killing their operatives to destroying their assets, has died.

Loss: Arthur Edwards, the current controller of Providence, was killed/neutralized by 47, and then Providence was dissolved completely with the help of Diana, who has the power, as the new Constant, to tear them apart from the inside.

Lucas Grey,

Gain: Although he died, his death was not in vain. He was avenged by his brother, 47 along with Diana and Olivia. (yes I know she calls it quit by the end of Berlin, and completely do so after Mendoza, but I'm still gonna include her anyway yeah fight me)

Loss: He died and doesn't get to see the day Providence lost, and also doesn't get to live the future he wanted.

You know who doesn't win anything at all and instead, lose everything?

Olivia Hall.

Why? Well. Let's look into her motives for joining Lucas. As far as I'm concerned, IO doesn't gives any intels or pieces of dialogues regarding her motives for joining this shitshow (IO why you did my girl like this?), I did a list of the possibilities of her motives and its logicalness. Here it is:

1. "Money?"

2. "She's a hacktivist. So, maybe she joined simply because she's anti-corpo?"

3. "Maybe she too, like Lucas, had past issues with Providence?"

4. "Forced?"

5. "They have a long standing friendship. She joined because she cares about him and wants to help".

The answers:

1. There are other ways of making money that doesn't involve joining a war against some shady highly dangerous secret society lmao damn. Not to mention that she used to be a child in a warzone (Sierra Leone Civil War). With the amount of trauma that I could only imagine, I doubt she wanna go through that again especially over petty shit like money. Money. For money that I'm sure she could easily get that by hacking some rando corpo bank account anyway. Plus, Idk man. She just doesn't seem the type imo.

2. This is true. She is indeed, anti-corpo. However, again, it's stupid. We're not talking about some basic ass corpo group, nah, this is literally the organization that have controls over almost half the globe and half of the government, for god knows how long. This is not some fun shit, this is serious shit. Sooo many things that could go wrong, resulting with either her being dead or targeted for the rest of her life.

3. This is good but bruhh there's just so many potential theories, and I do not have the energy to write all of them (maybe another day). Not to mention that there's no reason for them to not include this intels in the game. Hell, there's no reason at all for them to not let us know about her motive.

4. *logic has left the chat*

5. Out of all theories, this is the one imo that's the most logical. Period. There's so many versions based on this but I'm gonna stick with the simple one. Maybe I'll elaborate the others on another post.

So, it has been concluded that her motives for joining Lucas, is because she cares for him. Whether you see them as father-daughter or simply friends. Both works fine, though imo, the former works best.

It makes sense as to why she chose to call it quit by the end of Berlin. Because what's there to fight for? He's dead. She already lost him. She lost. Sure, she could stay and continue his fight. Avenge him. But that's the thing. It's HIS fight. She did this only because she wanted to help him survive this shitshow. She wants him to survive, and gets to live the future that he (definitely) had mentioned to her before. Plus, she's tired. Tired from the pain she felt from both, losing Lucas and her leg injury.

This woman suffered physical AND emotional pain at the same time.

Not to mention she has been in this fight for almost 2-3 years now. All of that is enough for her to walk away. Find peace for herself from this mess.

She and Lucas probably has talk about this before. Maybe he made her promise him, that if anything happens to him and 47, he wants her to run. Run like hell. Forget about all this. There's no bodyguards, no task force. He's not there to protect her anymore.

If he's the only one who didn't make it, he would've appreciate it if she choose to stay with 47 and continue fighting alongside his brother. But he also understands if she choose to leave.

Olivia finds that, for the sake of her sanity, it's best to walk away.

I'm willing to bet one of the main reasons she helps 47 one last time (Mendoza), is because she felt a tinge of guilt for abandoning him just like that. If she could not see herself continue fighting, the least she could do, is offers her help one last time, even if it probably wasn't much.

After all, old habits amirite?

So there you go. Our girl was fighting hard to help the man that she had known since she was 7 years old.

More sad: if this man save her life during the war.

Even more sad: if this man also got her out of there, away from all the pain, towards a new life.

Peak depression: if this man was the one who raised her himself.

(Oh and uh if I got it wrong or missed something, let me know okay!)

#hitman #olivia hall #MY POOR BABY #*sobs* #lucas grey #agent 47 #arthur edwards #the constant #diana burnwood

[allthingsfangirl101]

Mysteriously Familiar–Phillip Carlyle

Phillip's POV

With every step I took backstage, the booze started to wear off. And the more it wore off, the more I realized this may not have been the best idea. Every person we passed, stared at me. In a crowd of misfits, I was the one who didn't belong.

I tried not to stare at the people backstage, but I soon realized that they didn't care. They were used to being watched and gawked at.

I looked over at Barnum and watched as he interacted with each individual, helping them in some way or talking to them.

"So," Barnum said, clapping his hands as he turned towards me. "What do you think?"

"I don't know," I said slowly. My eyes scanned the tent once again, stopping when I noticed a beautiful girl wrapping her hands.

"Who is that?" I asked under my breath, not looking away from the girl.

"That is Y/N," Barnum said with a small chuckle. "She's our show-stopper."

"What does she do?" I asked as I watched Y/N slip through the curtain, heading towards the stage.

"Why don't you come see?"

When he opened the curtains to the balcony, I stepped out, slowly taking off my hat. My breath got caught in my throat when I saw Y/N soaring towards me. Her momentum brought her up to me, and we were face to face.

It may have only been for a brief moment, but we made eye contact and it felt like the world froze. As quickly as she floated up, she soared back down.

I watched as she effortlessly soared through the sky, landing gracefully. She did a bow before walking backstage. Once Y/N slipped through the curtain, I faced Barnum to see him smirking knowingly at me. I ignored the look on his face and followed him as we went backstage.

"Y/N! W.D.!" Barnum called out to the two. They walked over, meeting us halfway. "Let me introduce you to Phillip Carlyle. He's a new investor."

"Really?" Y/N asked, glancing between Barnum and me. "Well, welcome."

"What made you decide to invest in the circus?" W.D. asked with a slightly accusing tone in his voice.

Y/N cleared her throat, sending W.D. a look. "Be nice," she shushed him.

"What?" He asked, putting his hands up in defense. "A guy like that wants to finance our show and you're not the least bit suspicious?"

"What do you mean, a guy like that?" I asked.

"Please," W.D. scoffed. "Everyone knows who you are, Carlyle. You think you can make a little fun money off of us?"

"No," I started to object.

W.D. scoffed again as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You are just like those guys who wait outside for Y/N when she leaves."

"W.D.!" Y/N said through her teeth. "Enough."

He just rolled his eyes as he walked away. Y/N cleared her throat as her eyes drifted towards Barnum.

"Wait," Barnum said taking a step towards her. "Is W.D. right? Y/N, are you still having issues with the men outside?"

She hesitated but Barnum took another step towards her. "Y/N," he whispered.

"A little," she said, her voice cracking a bit.

"Damn it," he mumbled. He turned towards me and I could see the anger in his eyes. "I'll be right back. It seems there are some low-lives I need to deal with."

"No," Y/N tried to stop him. "Really. It's okay. They don't do anything. They just make comments."

"But. . ." Barnum started.

"Please," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to cause any trouble."

"I understand that, sweetheart," he sighed. "But I don't want one of them hurting you or following you home."

"Please?"

He thought about it for a second before finally giving in. "Fine," he sighed. "But if any of them touch you, I'm handling it."

"Deal," she smiled softly. She looked over at me and cleared her throat. "I better go get ready for the next act. Excuse me."

I watched as she walked away, slightly messing with the wraps on her hands. When she was out of sight, I turned to see Barnum smirking at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he chuckled. He started walking to his office so I quickly followed him.

"Can I ask you something?" I finally spoke up when he shut the door.

"Sure," he shrugged as he sat at his desk. I hesitated before sitting across from him.

"What are those men doing to Y/N?"

Barnum sighed as he sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Those sons of bitches are following her to the trolley as they make suggestive comments towards her. They joke about her outfit, her act, and anything else they can think of."

"Have they ever. . ."

"No," he said, catching on to what I was hinting at. "They've never touched her. But the drunker that crowd gets, the more I'm worried they'll do more than just touch her."

"That's horrible," I mumbled under my breath.

"I've walked her home a few nights, but she always says it's not a big deal. She lives on the other side of town so no one else can take her home."

"Where does she live?"

"Actually, kind of on your side of town."

"Really?" I asked, sitting up straighter.

"Yeah," Barnum chuckled. "Y/N was adopted by William Trainer and his wife when she was three and they raised her as their own. She is actually the heiress to Trainer's fortune. That's why the men target her."

"Wow," I said under my breath. "I didn't know. . . What made her join you?"

"I'm not sure," he shrugged. "I've asked her and she just said that she wanted to do something for herself. So, I hired her and had W.D. start training her. She was a quick study. Within a week of rehearsal, Y/N was ready to do her first act in the show."

"That's incredible," I said, a small smile on my face.

"Yep," Barnum laughed. "She's been amazing. And she is willing to help out any way she can."

"I know William Trainer," I said, mostly to myself. "He does a lot of work with my father. I knew he had an adopted daughter, I just hadn't met her."

"Well, now you have."

"So," I cleared my throat when I saw the way Barnum was looking at me. "We should talk about my involvement in the circus."

                       * * * * *

After Barnum and I sorted everything out, I started walking to the trolley. Before I left the circus, I noticed Y/N putting on her coat. I decided to wait just a little so I would be leaving at the same time as her.

"Hi," I said as I walked up to her.

"Oh, hi," she said with a smile on her face.

"Great show," I said awkwardly.

"Thank you," she blushed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Through the awkward silence, Y/N and I walked towards the door. My smile fell when I notice her hesitate to open it.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," she chuckled awkwardly. "I just. . ."

"You're nervous those men will be outside," I added when she didn't finish her thought. She looked up at me and sighed.

"He told you, didn't he?"

"He did," I nodded. I looked at the door before looking back at her. "You know," I cleared my throat, "I could escort you home if you'd like."

"Thank you but. . ."

"Y/N," I said, gently cutting her off. "I know William Trainer is your father."

Her eyes widened as she turned towards me. I watched as she thought about something before saying under her breath, "Carlyle. . . My father has spoken of yours. They've done work together, haven't they?"

"It seems you and I have more in common than I thought," I laughed.

"It seems we do," Y/N let out a small chuckle as she tucked the same piece of hair behind her ear again. She bit her lip, nervously chewing on it when she glanced back at the door.

"Come on," I said, reaching for the door. "I'll escort you home."

"You really don't have to. . ."

"Y/N, I'm not letting you walk home alone."

"Okay," she said, finally giving in.

I opened the door for her and held it. She smiled as she walked through, tightening her coat. I closed it behind us, glancing over to see her frozen. I followed her eyes to see the group of men mumbling excitedly.

I reached over and grabbed her hand, pulling her to my other side. I heard her gasp as I wrapped my arm around her waist.

"Just stay close to me," I whispered. "I'm not going to let them touch you."

With my arm tightly wrapped around her, I led her across the courtyard, towards the trolley. The entire time we walked, the men didn't take their eyes off of her.

"Look," one of the guys chuckled. "She's got herself a bodyguard tonight."

"How cute!"

"Her ladyship needs escorting."

"Isn't that Carlyle?"

"Don't listen to them," I whispered. She nodded as she tucked more into my chest.

"Come on, princess!"

"Come play!"

"I'll hold you like he is," a guy laughed. "Or harder if that's more what you're into."

My anger boiled as I felt Y/N start to shake. I unwrapped my arm and gently moved her so she was in front of me.

"What are you doing?" She whispered. I turned around, my hands clenched into fists.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Why don't you drunk jackasses go pick on someone who wants your attention?"

"Why don't you go roll in money, Carlyle, and mind your own business?" The ringleader of this shitshow laughed. I started to walk towards him, but Y/N quickly grabbed my hand.

"Let's just go," she whispered.

"I'm only going to say this once," I warned the group of drunk men. "Leave her alone."

"Or what?" Someone challenged.

"Or you'll have me to deal with."

With that, I rewrapped my arm around Y/N's waist and led her to the trolley. When it came, I helped her on and sat down next to her. I noticed she was quiet as the trolley slowly moved through town.

"You alright?" I asked.

"You didn't have to do that," she whispered.

"Of course I did," I shrugged. "Like I said, we have a lot in common. We're both white-bloods who wanted a break from the pressure of our family names."

"You barely know me, Phillip," she hesitated.

"Doesn't matter," I said, subconsciously scooting closer to her. I grabbed her hand in mine and intertwined our fingers. "We got to stick together."

Y/N smiled as she leaned her head on my shoulder. We relaxed into each other as the trolley chugged on, taking us through the different parts of the city.

Not only was this the start of an interesting business, but it was also the start of an interesting friendship.

#phillip carlyle #phillip carlyle x reader #phillip carlyle imagine #thegreatestshowman #zac efron #zac efron imagines #zac efron x reader