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#i love overhaul too but fuck what he did to her
mossy-opal · 11 months
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Sweet Spot
Sugar Baby Tomura Shigaraki x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Mentions of a Bar, Mentions of Black Mail (against heroes), Mentions of Cheating (nothing explicit), Mentions of Drug Use (a hero using, nothing explicit), Mentions of Murder, Nefarious Plotting, Mentions of Smut, Prostitution (he's a sugar baby, you know what you're reading), Smut For Real
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Villains were shifty in many ways, Tomura was taught that by his master for a long time. Villains had a large underground society, his master showing him everything he had at his disposal, so long as everything went according to plan.
But when his master was taken into custody, that was certainly not according to plan, he and his comrades were left with nothing. Not even Giran could help their lack of funds, the only thing they could do was rob small convenience stores. Even that was getting more difficult to do, with the presence of police and heroes increasing in areas they frequented. The yakuza wasn't the safest option for them, they were running out of supplies, tensions were running high.
Giran introduced him to something he could do for money, a small side gig to make a few extra bucks. After all, the villain world was vast, and Tomura was desperate.
“No, this has to be a scam-”
“It’s not. Old bitty’s are desperate for a young man nowadays, and they’re discreet-”
“I don’t give a shit.” He hissed, “It’s a safety risk, especially now.”
“I know, but it’s an option…”
Giran handed him the new phone, and he saw the site was exactly what he said. Discreet. No names, no pictures. He looked through reviews of some of the clients, how they complimented the work ethic and how easy it was to get a hold of some people. With the Yakuza deal being an issue, 'Overhaul' being a risky 'ally', this option seemed… Do-able.
So, he made an account. His first few clients were too scared of him, they expected him to be someone different, maybe someone lesser-known, or someone easier to talk to, but they got him instead.
He didn’t expect much, he was never one to be looked at as if he was… Attractive. Did he have high expectations of getting lucky with any of these women? Not particularly. Some of them were too old, just in need of someone to talk to. Their husbands cheated on them and they wanted to get back at ‘em, but never followed through. The younger women who asked for his services were shocked it was him, and if he did get to go all the way with them, they usually told him to go from behind, turn off the lights, don’t mind them if they moan someone else's name, don’t take all of his clothes off.
It only bugged him slightly a lot, but it made the league money.
He used that money to feed his league, good foods aside from junk, get them clothes they’d need, get Toga her feminine things, and so on. It was useful, he could easily lie about the money coming from Giran, and no one would ever ask him where he went.
He couldn’t imagine the humiliation he’d endure if they found him making his way to love hotels at least once a week. Sure it was dingy and gross, but he didn’t pay for it, and he got paid for it, so he couldn't complain. It wasn’t just women who’d buy his services either, he’d get men too. Due to the vague website and the lack of names, not many men would expect the leader of the League of Villains, but for enough money, Tomura followed the terms of his contract and swore to be quiet about it. Sometimes it was lawmakers he’d fuck with, sometimes people from the Commission, sometimes it was even low-ranking heroes he’d get to fuck. It didn’t matter to him, all that mattered was the money, and it got him plenty of black mail material too, but they didn’t need to know about that. Sometimes he’d be security for rich families in the underground, security for people at parties.
It didn’t matter.
He’d do what he needed to.
So when his next client refused to meet him at a love hotel, he got irritated.
When they refused to meet him at a bar, he got mad.
When they insisted on meeting at a cat cafe, he wanted to drop the client entirely.
This had to be a fucking joke.
But, he kept reminding himself it was for the money. It was for the league. The pay the client offered was something he couldn’t refuse.
The cat cafe was a late running one, so when he showed up and the sun was down, he was slightly surprised it was still open. Walking in, he saw someone wave at him. He looked around, pointing to himself, and you nodded. He shuffled through the cafe slowly, sure to keep his eyes on the floor beneath him, as to not step on any cats.
When he got to your table, you offered your hand.
“Pleasure to re-meet you, you remember me, right?”
He didn’t take your hand, sitting down with a huff.
“Remember you from what?”
“College of course.” You said it with a wink, and he caught on, nodding.
“Sure, remember our computer class… Why’d you reach out?”
You smiled, “I heard you do repairs now, you have great reviews.”
He hummed, this was certainly new.
“Hm, where’d you hear that from?”
You pulled out your phone, showing him a picture of a hero, and smiled.
“My friend told me all about you, said you’d get rid of any problems, real quick too!”
He smirked beneath his face mask, looking at you with sharp eyes.
“Sure I can… What’s the issue?”
Your wicked smile made him feel something, he wasn’t sure what it was, but he liked it.
“Just a bug in my software, I’m pretty sure it’s not a virus, but it’s a real pain…”
Tomura hummed, keeping his eye on your phone screen. He’d seen the hero before, knew he was a small time guy, pretty sure he’d fucked him too. He was sure to memorise his face, trying to make out what he looked like behind the mask, before he looked up at you. You were looking at the menu currently, your eyes scanning the words. You were pretty, and young. He wondered…
“How’d you get the 'virus'…?”
He asked, and you looked at him with a smile, “Aah, my friend borrowed someone else's computer and transferred some files to mine, and well, the files weren’t secure. Go figure, amiright?” You said with a smile, but you looked irritated behind the smile.
The bastard cheated, and on you of all people. Why would he go and do that? Probably fucked a fan...
Tomura huffed, he hated people like that and nodded.
“Any issues with your computer aside from the virus?”
“Thankfully no, I’m always sure to use protection, 'specially if I can't trust my buddies to keep it to themselves. VPNs, y’know~?” You said with a wink, making him actually chuckle.
Despite the small crime of “using someone else's computer”, Tomura wanted more information.
“I can get rid of it, but I wanna know… Any other issues?”
You smirked, shrugging. “Plenty, what do you want to know?”
“All of them…”
That was how you two met. You worked for the Commission as a paper pusher, "Damage Control" you called it, just running documents to and from different agencies, only making copies of classified information every now and then, when a hero assaulted someone, when a hero slipped up with drugs, when a sidekick got caught with a hero twice their age, so and and so forth. You were a beautiful well of knowledge, and you paid him for it, how funny was that?
You were smart to use code when talking to him, smart enough to cover your tracks with several different firewalls and VPNs, smart to keep your name hidden from him, only ever using aliases.
He knew you knew who he was, and as far as he could tell, you didn’t give a shit.
You were perfect for him, and he was certain to keep everything he did with you under wraps. Sometimes the information you’d slip to him would get to news stations, who would've guessed? It’d even sometimes end up in the hands of the police, how it got there, no one knew.
It was a dance he had with you, making the right moves got him anything he wanted, and you were happy to oblige in any way you could.
One day, you asked for his services once more, but you invited him to a bar. It was different, usually you asked him to meet you at places that were cute, unsuspecting, with low security and no cameras. But never a bar, much less an underground bar.
But, he was getting paid, so he wouldn’t complain.
Getting there was easy, getting in was even easier, and finding you was a piece of cake. You had two drinks in front of you, and when you turned to see him you smiled a genuine smile.
“Heeey, nice to see you death’s-head~!”
You’d always give him moth related nicknames, he suspected you just really liked moths.
“Why are we here of all places?”
You shrugged, “I haven’t had any issues at work lately, but I kinda like spending time with you, figured we could just hang out?”
He felt his face heat up with that, sitting on the stool next to you. “Not really my thing…”
You clicked your tongue with a coo, “Yeeeaah, but you’ve been busy lately, kinda wanted to let you chill out for a minute, y’know?”
Tomura shrugged, moving his mask to take a drink, keeping his head down. Even amongst other unsavoury types, he still wasn’t safe.
“I don’t really have that kind of luxury, you should know that…”
You hummed, sipping your own drink slowly.
“Yeah… But hey, at least now we can talk freely, yeah?”
“Tch, wouldn’t do that around here…”
You shook your head, “Not an issue, I know the owner of the place, he’s an old friend.”
Tomura chuckled, “Friend from college?”
You smirked, “Something like that~”
With that, the two of you just talked that evening. You kept paying for drinks and even some food, introduced him to the owner of the bar, it was a kind old man you called gramps, and he even got to know the old man. You two never exchanged your real names, only telling each other about interests and passions, you didn’t have a quirk and wanted to be a doctor, but ended up being a secretary of sorts. “Whatever pays the bills”, you said, and that really resonated with him. He couldn’t tell you much, but you didn’t press for information.
You never did.
The two of you started to hang out a lot more, without payment. You invited him to what he assumed to be your apartment, since it was filled with things that you would like. Cute plushies, horror movie posters, pictures of yourself with friends, moths and butterflies littered the walls in shadow-boxes. It was certainly your home. He felt special to be trusted like this, he was sure to keep you a secret.
He wanted to have at least a little bit of a normal life with you.
You paid him to take information and kill off small time shit heroes, hung out with him on your days off and weekends, offered him a couch to sleep on when he wanted.
He considered you a friend and an ally, even if he didn’t know your name.
One day while he was hanging out in your living room, fucking with your game scores, he heared the door slam shut and you run to your room, slamming that door too.
He didn’t like that.
Carefully making his way to your door, he heard you talking to yourself, throwing things and screaming into pillows. Tomura opened the door slowly, only to be hit in the face with a small plushie, hearing you gasp immediately afterwards.
“P-pepper- fuck I’m sorry I-”
“Why are you so upset?”
You blinked, wiping away your angry tears and shaking your head, “Stupid reason…”
He picked up the plushy and walked into your room, tossing it on your bed before sitting next to you.
“Only stupid if you don’t tell me ‘bout it.”
You sighed, shaking your head again, "Just- a lot of little things, y'know? I made a mess of my breakfast this morning, I got a message from an old ex about how he 'misses me', crock of shit if you ask me- I missed my usual train so I was almost late to work, I couldn't get coffee until lunch and then I spilled my coffee! It's stupid but- Ugh…. The last straw was when my coat got hooked on the door on my way up…"
You laughed, putting your head in your hands. "Everything's just too much right now…"
Tomura nods, listening all the while. He felt something during this, he felt good to know you trusted him like this, ranting to him about these issues. They may have been meaningless, but they bothered you, and upset you, so they mattered to him.
He snorted, "What ex? Thought you don't date anymore."
"Yeah, since that last hero I haven't been doing anything with anyone, been too damn busy… This guy was from my last job, caught him texting someone else and left him. Why, you gonna get him back for it?"
Tomura shrugs as you lay down with a sigh. He lays down next to you, "Maybe, maybe not. Only if he bugs you again, 'kay?"
You chuckle, "Sure thing…"
You two laid like that for a moment, your breathing slowed as your heartrate did, and you let out a nice long breath.
"Tomura…"
He jolted up at the mention of his real name, looking down at you sharply, getting away from you quickly. Why did you say his name? What did you want? Were you bugged? Was he really safe here?
"Hey hey, easy now…" You sat up and put your arms out, "No need to freak out I just…. When we're like this, can't we use our names?"
"No, you might be-"
"Bugged? What, you think I wouldn't notice a whole feather from Hawks? A chip from the Commission? Come on, Tomura, I'm smarter than that…"
He stayed silent, not wanting to say anything else until you sighed, making a move to shut off your phone completely before you started taking it apart. He could see all the components, the battery… Nothing was out of the ordinary.
You told him your full name as you put your phone together, you explained you had access to the cameras attached to your building and would always alter the footage to show a loop of your hallway. You had a routine anyway, so it wasn't out of the ordinary if someone looked at it casually. You explained you checked every document you ever got, you never took your work bag further past your door, and you never used the laptop they gave you at home, anyway. You sat back on your bed with a small smile.
"Are you at ease now, Tomura…?"
He let out a breath and nodded, but he was still confused.
"Why now…?"
"Hm?"
"Why do you want to use my name now? Why give me yours?"
You shrugged, "Well I mean… You sleep on my couch, I don't really see why I can't trust you with my name. It's not like I didn't know who you were or what we were doing, and it's not like we're working now anyway. So…"
Tomura sighed, shrugging. "Sure, I guess…"
With that out of the way, you giggled, and that made him snap to look at you. "What?"
"Well I mean… I was just thinking… About the site we met on…"
He felt his face flush as he started walking out of your room, "What about it?"
You followed him out of your room, "Well I see that it's usually used for… Heheh, other things…"
"Like what?"
"Did you get paid to have sex with anyone~?"
He rolled his eyes as he started playing your games again, "Can't say, contracts and all that, you get it…"
"Oh please, as if either one of us cares about 'security', so spill it! Any old women? Men?"
Tomura smirked with a nod, "You're not my first Commission client~"
You feigned offence, "Ah! I'm hurt~!"
You laughed, and he chuckled at the normalcy being regained once again. He told you about all of his clients and the different things he'd done for them, and even told you about the heroes he'd been hired by too. Those stories made your night even better, because you had worked as damage control for the heroes that Tomura Shigaraki had previously had sex with! You were delighted with the new information, and even happier he had gotten some pictures too.
You really were a dream come true, and now he knew your name, too.
Things got busy for a little while, and Tomura hadn't been able to take clients, or even visit you. He was fighting for his vision after all, and with the information he had, he had plenty of fuel for his fire. He couldn't help but wonder though, what were you up to these days? Had you gotten back at that ex without his help? Were you still busy with work? Were you still living in that apartment?
Were you worried about him, too?
Of course you were. You couldn't reach out to look for him, that'd be far too dangerous. You could get hurt, arrested, the possibilities were endless with what could go wrong. But you were worried sick for him, especially after the news broadcasted the links heroes had found to the League of Villains after the raid on the Yakuza, and the attack on that Chisaki guy, you were scared. Not for your safety, but for his.
You couldn't tell him, Tomura would probably freak out if you told him how much you really cared. Hell, you were freaking out yourself, every time you had a relationship it always ended with them… Finding someone different. It always landed back with you looking at yourself in the mirror with doubt.
You knew, logically, it wasn't you who was the weak link in the relationships, but with how often it happened, you couldn't help but think… What if it was you?
What if Tomura didn't reach out until you paid him? What if he only reached out because you paid him? What if he wanted something more from you? What if- Your thoughts were cut short with a knock on your door, and you carefully made your way over.
Tomura had never knocked before.
You peaked through the peep-hole and felt your heart swell, quickly opening the door and pulling him inside, pulling him into a tight hug.
It was Tomura.
He was shocked at the response, unable to pull down his hood or take off his face mask because of your viper-like grip on him. Soon you let him go, immediately throwing questions at him.
"What the hell were you thinking!? Taking his arms!? Don't get me wrong the bastard deserved it- But what if you were caught!? You haven't talked to me in like a month- I thought you got caught by police or a hero or you died or something! You had me so worried-!"
"You were worried…?"
Your questioning stopped as you huffed, pushing some hair out of your face.
"Of course I was…"
He was shocked, as were you. You thought he'd know you were worried, but clearly not. What, had he never been fretted over before?
"Tomura-?"
He cut you off by grabbing your face, pulling you against him with a kiss. You huffed into the kiss and moaned into him, gripping his coat while pulling him against you. He kept his hold on your face, letting your weight push him against your door as you kissed him back.
Oh fuck, you kissed him back. You kept kissing him when his eyes shot open to look at you. You. You worried about him, you cared about him, you worked with him, you- You kissed him back! You were kissing him, and feeling him up too, before you pulled away.
"Ha- Is everything okay…?"
He blinked, letting your face go as he nodded, "Uh- y-yeah…"
You smiled at him, "You stopped kissing me~"
"I-I… I-uh… Y-you…"
"Tomura… You don't have t-"
"No I want to I just…. This doesn't normally happen…"
You laughed softly again, "You've told me, but those hags don't know what they passed up…"
You kissed him gently again, "You're smart…"
You kissed him again, kissing his cheek and his jaw, "You're handsome…"
You kissed his neck, gently nipping him, "And you're definitely my type~"
He chuckled at that, groaning at the feeling of your kisses, and letting you take his coat off of him, letting it fall to the floor. His hands found your hips, gripping them tightly while you paid attention to his neck. He pressed his knee between your legs, pulling your hips against his, relishing in your whine.
"Ha… W-we should- fuckin' move~"
He said with another huff, gently pushing you away. You whined impatiently but nodded, taking his hand and leading him to your room. When you got there you didn't even bother closing the door before ditching your shirt, Tomura following in your footsteps, undoing his belt while you shimmied out of your pants. He didn't get to lose his pants when you pulled him over to you, kissing him again, your bare chests pressed against one another. Tomura moaned into your mouth, pushing you by your hips onto your bed. You both seperated with a small laugh, pushing your plushies off the bed.
He never thought he'd see this.
He never thought at the beginning of this that he'd ever meet someone like you. You looked at him with a smile, you cared about him, you helped him and supported his desires. He wanted to relish this.
You were admiring him too, his handsome face, his beautiful eyes and pretty hair. You pushed some of his hair behind his ear as you held his face. You didn't look away from him, didn't tell him to turn off the light, didn't tell him to turn you around. You wanted him, entirely, unabashedly.
He didn't wait any longer, kissing you again, pulling your legs apart to press himself against you comfortably. You wrapped your arms around him again as he grinded against you. You shuddered at the feeling, your arms moving from his shoulders to his hips, pushing his pants down his legs. He smirked against you before he stood, taking his pants off entirely. You moved up on your bed, before whistling at Tomura, getting his attention. He looked at you, and felt his breath hitch at the sight. You pulled your panties to the side to show him how wet you were, wet for him. He quickly shoved his boxers down and damn near pounced on you pressing himself against you, before pushing himself in, selfishly.
You moaned sharply, laughing breathlessly, "T-Tomuraa… C-careful~!"
He huffed at the feeling of you- moaning at how fucking good you felt for him. He couldn't stop now- Couldn't hold himself back anymore. His hips slammed into yours over and over again, fucking you like he wanted. Your moaning spurred him on, the squelching of your sopping heat making him groan and whine above you as he looked down at where he pressed himself into you. His eyes kept looking from you to what you were currently moaning over. His smile was almost unhinged as he gripped your hips tight, ploughing into you faster than you'd ever felt.
The look on his face alone made your heart swell as you gripped his shoulder and your sheets. You clawed into his back as your head rolled back, moaning his name over and over again. Your previous partners never seemed this desperate for you, never felt this close to you, never felt like they-
Your eyes shot open as you moaned out as you came with him, feeling him shoot into you deep, making you shudder at the feeling of being so full.
"Ha-Haaa… T-Tomura you-"
You didn't get to finish your sentence, as he pulled you over the edge of the bed, pressing your face into the covers.
"I'm not done with you yet."
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Tags: @slayersins @shadowsandshapes @dabislittlemouse @dabispreciouslittlebean @the-milk-anon @shockinglysubmissive @kelin-is-writing @elias-fable @mothiopal
Did I say this evening? I meant when I was done. Enjoy~
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justagalwhowrites · 8 months
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Lavender - Ch. 48
You, Joel and Ellie make a home for yourselves in Jackson. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-47 found on Tumblr here.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only
Length: 4.2K
Summer, 2024 
“You swear I’m not going to sink,” Ellie looked skeptical, waist deep in the lake. 
“I promise you’re not gonna sink,” Joel said, smiling a little. “I’ll be right here, not gonna let you drown, Kiddo.” 
“So I just, what, fall and the water catches me or what?” She asked. “Because that sounds like bullshit.” 
“Come out a little deeper,” Joel stepped back a bit and Ellie hesitated before she obeyed. He arranged himself beside her, one arm behind her back and the other low in the water to help bring her legs up. “Alright, stick one leg straight out and lean back….” She winced as she did it. “Right, now the other one, too. Don’t worry, not gonna let you drown.” 
You watched as she rose to floating on her back, her face scrunched tight for a moment before she smiled, eyes opening. 
“I’m doing it!” She yelled. “Doc, look!” 
“I’m looking!” You shaded your eyes with the book you’d been reading, watching from the shore. “You’re doing great!” 
“See?” Joel smiled, standing up straight again, hands on his hips. “Don’t need me out here at all.” 
You watched as he showed her how to move her arms and legs while on her back, then helped her move to her front, sweeping her arms forward and pulling herself through the water. 
“I can swim!” She called to you. “I can fucking swim!” 
You smiled at Joel and he smiled back at you, both of you loving the chance to have Ellie be a child for a change. 
Jackson had been good for her. You were all still settling into it in a way. It was strange to think that, a year ago, Ellie hadn’t met Joel and you and Joel were avoiding each other like the plague. Now, you all lived under one roof, together as a family.  
You’d overhauled Ellie’s room first. It was girlie, far too girlie for a girl like Ellie. She thought about what she wanted and sheepishly came into the living room one afternoon with a notebook in her hands when you were reading, your head on Joel’s lap. 
“Is this dumb?” She asked, holding the notebook out. 
“Almost definitely not but let me look,” you said, setting your book on your stomach and taking the notebook from her. It was a mural of the stars, an astronaut floating in space with the Earth a swirl behind them and the long neck of a giraffe reaching into the stars. “In what universe is this dumb? This is awesome!” 
“Yeah?” She smiled, leaning over the notebook. “See, I did the astronaut with the kind of space suit that Sally Ride used…” 
“Brilliant,” you said. “Let’s do it!” 
“Fuck yeah,” she smiled. 
Joel made it a point to look for paint when out on patrol and it didn’t take long before you had everything you needed to make it happen. You showed Ellie how to work with the larger space, sketching out the mural in quadrants at first and then starting to paint. It took a few days to finish, the two of you working together on it. She painted the last star, you holding the step stool so she could reach high enough. She came back down and looked up at it, proud, before yelling through the house. 
“Joel!” She called. “It’s done! You gotta come see!” 
He came in, a dish towel over his shoulder, soap suds still on his wrists. 
“Well this is damn impressive,” he said. 
“Right?” Ellie said. “It’s like I’m a real artist!” 
“You are a real artist,” you smiled at her. “You made something. It’s art. You’re an artist, kid.” 
“Hell yeah I am,” she smiled up at the mural. Joel pressed a kiss into your forehead and smiled. When your eyes met his, you knew you were thinking the same thing: Any sacrifice was worth this. 
She was a little prickly about school at first. You waited more than a week to start her there, spending most of the time with the three of you piled together on the couch, either watching movies on the TV and VCR in the living room that - miraculously - still worked or playing board games. The family who lived in this house before had a decent stash in the basement - Clue, Monopoly, Scrabble, even something called Settlers of Catan that neither you or Joel had ever heard of but quickly became Ellie’s favorite. 
The three of you seemed to do best when you were close together. It reminded you, again, of what it was like coming to the QZ with Andrew. You’d thought you were better prepared for it this time - and maybe you were - but it did little to ease the worry that rose in you when Joel left the house to pick up food or Ellie went to shower and was out of your sight for more than a few minutes. The nauseating, hot ball of anxiety seemed constantly primed and ready to fill your stomach. You saw it in them, too. In the tension of Ellie’s jaw when Joel left the house, the relief on both of their faces when you came back into the room after taking a shower. 
But you needed to integrate yourselves into life here. Your leg was already doing better, Joel’s side was healing well. The two of you needed to start contributing and Ellie needed to start school again. The teacher in you was vaguely horrified at the kind of learning loss she must have had over the past few months on the road. And she needed to spend time with kids her own age, not the two middle-aged adults who had been her only real human contact for months. 
“But you’re a teacher!” Ellie protested when you sat her down to talk about it. “If I really need to learn shit that bad, why can’t you just teach me?” 
“Because I’m not the person who should teach you things like English or history,” you replied. “And you need to spend time with kids your own age.” 
“Fuck kids my own age!” She crossed her arms and flopped herself back in her chair at the kitchen table, staring daggers out the window panes in the back door. 
“Ellie,” Joel scolded lightly. “C’mon. You know she’s right. You need to have a life…” 
“I do,” she said. “There’s plenty of shit to do in the house and if I run out of shit in here, I can go in the yard.” 
“We can ease into it,” you ignored her protests. “Tomorrow, we can go to the mess hall for meals, talk a bit with some other people…” 
“I don’t trust other people,” Ellie’s eyes darted to you and Joel before looking back outside. 
“Baby girl,” Joel said gently, leaning onto the table. “You really think we’d send you somewhere that was bad for you? Somewhere you’d get hurt?” 
She glared at you both for a second before she sighed. 
“No.” 
“We’re here for a reason,” he said. “You can have a normal life here. School here ain’t like what it is in the QZ. Give it a shot.” 
“Besides,” you said when she was quiet for a moment. “We’re going to start working soon and you’ll just be in here, by yourself all day. That’s not good for you.” 
She looked at both of you for a moment, her jaw set firm. 
“Fine,” she muttered eventually. “But if it’s stupid as fuck I’m blaming you.” 
It only took her a week and a half to admit she liked school. She’d made friends, including a girl named Dina she seemed particularly excited about. She liked her teachers (“Way better than in the fuckin’ QZ - no offense, Doc.”) and seemed to be excited about what she was learning. 
“Thank fuck we got a kid who’s excited about school,” Joel sighed one morning after Ellie all but ran out the front door with barely a “good morning” on the way past. “Really wasn’t lookin’ forward to her fightin’ us on it every step of the way.” 
“She’ll find something else to fight us on, I’m sure,” you smiled at him over your cup of tea. He smiled a little back and kissed your temple before going to get dressed for the day. You savored it for a moment, the small signs of a quiet, domestic life. You hadn’t realized just how badly you wanted that life. It was like you’d been afraid of wishing for anything quite that much because, in the QZ, when you thought Joel hated you, it was so far out of reach it would only bring you pain to want it. 
You had it here. 
After a few weeks of working at the clinic, your leg was healed but you were feeling restless. You’d never been able to get a call out to Andrew to tell him that you made it here. Every little kid you saw in town reminded you of Elizabeth and Jonah and how much you wished they could grow up in a place like this. There wasn’t a day that went by in the clinic where you almost talked to Andrew out of sheer force of habit. You were providing medical care, Andrew should be there. That’s how it worked. 
“I need to make a trip to the radio tower.” 
You said it simply one evening, when Tommy and Maria were over for dinner. 
“Absolutely not,” Joel said immediately. 
“For a change, I agree with Joel,” Maria said. “We have a strict policy here for a reason…” 
“Why d’you need to go?” Tommy frowned. You smiled a little at him. Of course he’d be the only one here who was maybe on your side. 
“I just need to make one call,” you said. “To Andrew, let him know we made it OK.” 
“It’s too dangerous,” Maria shook her head. “We can’t afford giving away our location…” 
“I won’t say anything about where we are,” you said. “He knew we were heading out west, anyway. And it’s Andrew, he’d never say anything to anybody about where we were. He’s completely trustworthy, ask Tommy.” 
Maria looked to her husband. He shrugged. 
“She’s right,” he said. “Knew the guy for years, I’d trust him with my life. And I know damn well he wouldn’t do a damn thing to hurt her.” 
Maria sighed. 
“Just the one call,” she said. “That’s all?” 
“That’s all,” you said. “I swear.” 
“Fine,” she said. “But that’s it. You can’t share where we are, nothing like that.” 
“Of course,” you said. 
“Don’t I get a say in this?” Joel snapped. 
“Nope,” you smiled. “It’s cute that you think you do, though.” 
He quirked his jaw and glared at you but was quiet until the two of you went to bed that night. 
“I ain’t takin’ you out there,” his accent was thick. He was pissed. “After everythin’ we did to get this far and you wanna risk it to call back to fuckin’ Boston…” 
“I’m not asking you to take me,” you shrugged as you climbed into bed. “You need to stay here  with Ellie, we can’t both leave her and we’re not taking her back outside right now.” 
He stared at you for a moment. 
“Who the fuck is takin’ you then?” He demanded. “I know you ain’t stupid enough try to go out there on your own…” 
“Tommy will,” you said. “He already said he would…” 
He got into bed next to you. 
“Am I supposed to be happy ‘bout that?” He asked. 
“No,” you said. “But you should feel good about Tommy taking me since you know he’ll get us there and back in one piece.” 
“Can’t say I’m thrilled about the prospect of you traipsin’ through the wilderness with your ex-boyfriend,” he muttered. 
“So you don’t trust me because I was fucking him eight years ago?” You asked, brows raised. 
“Course I trust you…” He frowned. “Wait, eight years ago?” 
“Yeah?” You said. “That’s when he left, right? So, eight years.” 
“No,” he shook his head. “No, you split up…” 
“Well yeah,” you laughed a little. “But then we kept… well, you know. Did you really not know about this?” 
He was deathly silent for a moment. You could practically feel the rage building in him.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘im.” 
Joel threw back the blankets and started getting dressed. 
“You can’t be serious!” You got up, too, putting yourself between him and the bedroom door. “You are not going to pick a fight with your brother over ancient history…” 
“It ain’t ancient history if he was fuckin’ my goddamn wife for four years longer’n I thought,” he was seething. “Fuckin’ hid it from me for years!” 
“OK let’s take a breath,” you said, putting your hands gently on his bare chest. “One, you’re going to freak out Ellie. Two, if you go storming over there, you’re going to get us kicked out of town. I had to convince Maria that I wasn’t a succubus who had come to town to steal her husband, she actually likes me now, please don’t ruin that because you’re pissed off over something that happened almost a decade ago.” 
“He lied to me,” Joel snapped. “For years. Goddamn years because he knew, he fuckin’ knew he was doin’ something shitty…” 
“Joel,” you cut him off. “You hated me then…” 
“No,” he shook his head. “Never hated you…” 
“You were acting like you hated me which, for anyone watching, is the same damn thing,” you said, crossing your arms. “Did you expect me to sit at home, never sleeping with anyone, waiting for you to come around?” 
“No,” his jaw tensed. “I expect my brother to keep his hands off my girl, especially if he’s just gonna be fucking her and not treatin’ her right…” 
“We broke up because I couldn’t get over you, you idiot!” You had to try to keep your voice down, which was rare for you. You weren’t much of a yeller. “Not that I’m some kind of prize but you’d already won that one! So no, you’re not going to beat up your damn brother because he was sleeping with me when you wanted nothing to do with me. That’s bullshit. You know that’s bullshit.” 
He looked at you, his brown eyes a bit softer. 
“You really break up because of me?” He asked, hint of a smile playing on his lips. 
“See, I guess Tommy didn’t tell you that either,” you rolled your eyes. “But yeah. I warned him when we got together that I didn’t think I could love anyone who wasn’t you. And I was right. So we split up.” 
“Well…” he cupped the back of his neck awkwardly. “That… makes it a bit better…” 
You rolled your eyes. Men.
“So can we go to bed instead of having you mess up our entire life because you’re trying to be an asshole?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I’m tired. I’d like to go to bed.” 
“Let’s go to bed,” he sighed, pulling you against his broad chest and kissing your forehead.
The two of you got back under the covers and you burrowed into him once he turned out the lights. 
“Feeling better?” You asked, your nose buried in his throat. 
“Still pissed my brother thought he could get away with fuckin’ my wife for years,” he muttered. 
“I’m not your wife,” you said, teasing a little. 
“Hm?” He pulled back to look at what he could see of you in the dark. 
“I’m not your wife,” you said again. “You keep calling me that but, last time I checked, we weren’t married.” 
“Right,” he pulled you back against him. “Just… feel like my wife…” 
“Well you feel like my husband,” you yawned into him and pressed closer. “But ball’s in your court on that one, Miller.” 
It took him less than two weeks. You’d just finished getting Ellie out the door for school, Joel coming in from an overnight patrol at the same time she was leaving. 
“Hey Hon,” you called out to him, taking a sip of tea before starting to wash the pan you’d made hashbrowns in. “I can make you eggs or something if you want, I’m not due at the clinic for another two hours…” 
You turned around and there he was, down on one knee. It surprised you so much you jumped. He smiled a little at that. 
“I had different plans for this 20 years ago,” he said. “Something involving you’n me at that coffee shop where I first saw you and you ordered one of those lavender lattes you like so much. Then I’d take you to a hotel room with a real big tub we could take full advantage of.”
You had to lean back against the counter to keep from falling over, happy tears already catching on your lashes. 
“This ain’t that,” he said. “But it is what you’n me have made and you make it everything, Baby. You do. Wouldn’t be here without you - wouldn’t want to be here without you. Seems like everything good I’ve got I can trace back to you, you’re the best of all of it.” 
He reached into a pocket and pulled out a necklace, a purple gemstone with a small diamond above it where the pendant met the delicate gold chain. 
“It ain’t a ring,” he said. “But I figure a ring’d be in the way at the clinic, anyway…” 
You damn near tackled him, almost falling over in your rush to throw your arms around his neck. 
“Didn’t even ask you yet,” you could hear him smiling as you buried your face in his shoulder. 
“Sorry,” you said voice thick, still holding onto him. “Ask, I’m listening!” 
He laughed. 
“Baby, I love you more than I knew it was possible to love another person,” his breath was warm against your neck as he spoke. “Will you marry me?” 
“Yes!” You were still clinging to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and let himself fall backwards so he was sitting on the kitchen floor instead of kneeling. He pulled back from you enough to kiss you. 
“Good,” he smiled a little. “Because I’m too old to be on my knees that damn long…” 
You got married a few weeks later. It was a small affair, just you and Joel with Ellie and Tommy. Maria officiated and you exchanged matching rings Joel made out of scrap metal that he’d polished to shining. You’d never been happier. 
You toyed with the pendant, watching your husband and daughter swim, smiling a little. This was all you wanted in Jackson. All you’d ever wanted, really. A life with Joel, one that was quiet and happy, one where there was no specter of death and pain. You sometimes couldn’t believe that you’d found it, in the face of everything, you’d finally gotten here. 
“Y’all headin’ back soon?” You turned to see Tommy on horseback, heading back toward Jackson. 
“Time is it?” Joel yelled. 
“Pushin’ four.” 
“Oh shit,” Ellie clumsily maneuvered herself to standing. “I’m supposed to be going to the mess hall with my friends at like 5:30…” 
“Mind taking Ellie back?” You asked. 
“Course not,” he said, waiting patiently as Ellie dried off and pulled on her sneakers. 
“I’ll probably be home late!” She called over her shoulder as she climbed on the back of Tommy’s horse. 
“Have fun!” You watched the two of them ride off back toward town, so distracted you didn’t even notice your husband coming out of the lake until he dripped water on your bare leg. 
“Should put that book down, Baby,” he said, a look that almost dared you disobey. 
“No,” you shook your head, trying not to smile. “Absolutely not, that water has got to be fucking freezing…” 
“I’ll keep you warm,” he said, scooping you up off the blanket you were laying on. You shrieked and dropped your book before it got wet, Joel carrying you into the cold water. 
“See?” You said, teeth nearly chattering as you wrapped your arms around your waist. “Fucking freezing!” 
He tugged you against him and you could feel his hard length through his swim trunks. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his went around your waist. 
“I’ll keep you warm,” he said again, voice low and wanting this time. You smiled a little at that. 
“Oh will you, Mr. Miller?” You asked, the teasing edge to your voice picking up the the needy ache that was rapidly building in you. 
“I will, Mrs. Miller,” he traced his fingers along your arm before he kissed you, his wet curls dripping on your wrists. 
His kiss deepened, his tongue slipping into your mouth, curving around your own. He moved his hands lower until they were cupping your ass and he lifted you so you could wrap your legs around him. Once you were secure, he brought a hand around to your front, running his fingers over your aching slit through your swimsuit, pressing the pad of his thumb against your swollen clit. 
You moaned and he reached down, freeing his cock and nudging your suit to the side, his thick head against your entrance. He pressed into you and you clung to him as he stretched you open, the feel of him easing the painful neediness that burned inside you. 
“Fuck Baby,” he kissed the top of your shoulder. “Somethin’ about havin’ you in the water…” 
You dug your nails into his skin, not able to help yourself, your breasts pressed flush against him. 
“Probably because that’s how you first had me,” you panted, holding him deep inside yourself. “Really wasn’t fair, you making me lose my virginity to the best sex I’d ever have… Ruined me for anyone else, never had a shot.” 
“Good,” he said, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your ass and leveraging you up his cock before bringing you back down on him with a satisfied grunt. “Like you ruined for me…” 
He moved you up and down his thick length, starting easy and shifting to hard and fast, each thrust forcing your aching walls apart as he made room for himself inside you, his head meeting the place inside you he’d marked as his own that day in the pool almost 25 years before. Your body was clinging to him, your core so tight that it was bordering on pain and you couldn’t stand to have him pull away from you again. You tightened your legs around his waist when he thrust into you, forcing him to stay deep inside as you started to cum around him. 
“Shit, Baby…” he moved his hands from your ass to your lower back, pressing your hips closer so he could push somehow deeper inside you. “Going to…” 
You were too lost in your own orgasm to fully understand the implications of what he said. You’d run out of your birth control stash about two months earlier. The two of you had been practicing the pull out method and keeping your fingers crossed. Now, he was emptying himself into you, his cock throbbing as he filled you with his thick, hot spend. 
You groaned, savoring the feeling of him coming apart inside you. You’d missed it, missed how close to him you felt when he lost control while part of him was a part of you. It took until both of your orgasms had faded for you to realize what just happened. 
“Shit,” you breathed, pulling back from him enough to see his face, his cock still sheathed within you. “Joel, you didn’t pull out…” 
“I know,” he was still catching his breath. “Fuck, I didn’t even think about it…” 
You pressed your forehead to his, acutely aware of where your bodies were joined. You could feel his spend inside of you, his head right at the mouth of your womb when he came. 
“I guess we just keep our fingers crossed,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have held onto you like that…” 
“Never apologize for doin’ that,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “Felt fuckin’ amazing.” 
You laughed once. He was quiet for a minute. 
“But would it be that bad if I got you pregnant?” He asked softly. 
“Joel,” you almost laughed before you realized he wasn’t joking. 
“You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted to have kids with,” he said. “Life is good here, people have babies here and they’re happy’n healthy. They have a life. It’d be worth it, here.” 
“I’m turning 46 in a few months,” you said. “You’re going to be sixty in a few years…” 
“Yeah,” he said. “But our kid - your kid - would be worth it.” 
You kissed him, soft and gentle, your heart full. 
“Yeah,” you said, your lips brushing his. “Yeah, they would be…” 
He trailed his mouth along your jaw as he brought a hand back around to your front, pressing two fingers to your sensitive clit, his softening cock still inside you. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you panted. “What…” 
“Tryin’ to make you cum again,” he said, voice thick. “Think it takes better if you cum after I leave myself inside you…” 
You moaned and pressed your face into his neck, rocking your hips against him, falling apart in the water at your husband’s touch. 
A/N: One chapter left to tie up a few more loose ends. I hope everyone is enjoying some lovely Miller family time!
Thank you all so much for being here. I truly can't believe this fic is almost done. It's going to kill me a little to end it (I'm still going to, I don't think I can keep writing without a story to serve) and it feels like I just started writing it a few days ago.
For anyone who enjoys my work in general and not just the characters of Joel and Doc, I did start a new TLOU fic today. It's called Yearling and can be found here. I hope you can find something about it to love!
Thank you for spending your time with me and with Doc and Joel. I can't imagine sharing this story without you all. Love you, truly!
Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi @pedropascalsbbg@taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123@jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10@sloanexx@ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings@arizonadaydreamer@mumma-moonchild@blackroseguzzi@candypeaches16@kittenlittle24@wrappedinfiction@oatmeaiboy@pedritosdarling@winchestergypsy90@imnotdatboii @lalalalemonade11 @maknimuk1@mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes@pedrosaidsheispunk@commanderawkward@n7cje@elliesgirlll@tsunamistorm123@spookyxsam@leeeesahhh @anoverwhelmingdin @untamedheart81 @pedropascalfan221 @pedr0swh0r3 @pedrobae@fifia-writes@fatima-marisa @acf2023 @1soff@encephalitiskat @ashleymsnodgrass @karlinspace
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c0pkiller · 4 months
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MUSIC IS YOUR LOVE LANGUAGE + CSM characters reaction to you sharing your favorite music with them. Another repost bc I deleted a couple of things when I overhauled my tag system.
CONTENT WARNINGS + this is mostly sfw except for a kishibe's part because I'm deliriously horny for that old man.. Makima is kind of a jumpscare tbh.
TAGS: @iminlovewqr0w @i-literally-cant-with-this @hehehehesthings @hinata7346 @r0ckst4rjk @d4ddies-wh0re @doestalker @jottositto @getousrep
more content on my masterlist!
Aki listens to it, loves it too. Gets into the band, buys merch, tickets, and turns into a whole fan boy. You’ll come home to find him wearing a band tee and hoodie sometimes, begin to question if he only owns clothes that are centered around this band now. Did you give him an obsession? You completely shift his entire music taste. He only wants to listen to what you listen to and, eventually, reaches a point where he can’t even get through his work day without having a headphone in his ear, the playlist you made for him keeping him relaxed. His love language becomes music too.
Kishibe lets you show him your favorite song and, at first, can’t comprehend why young people listen to shit like this. “Let me show you real music.” He turns on some Nu-metal – old man music as you call it. “This is music that you can fuck to. That’s how you know it’s good.” The only man grumbles, taking a swig of his flask. “Fuck, why not?” He reaches to squeeze your thigh.
Kobeni usually only listens to bubbly pop music but she’s always open to trying something new. You show her a ballad song that you’ve loved since high school and watch her shoulders relax, feeling the melody. She can’t honestly say that there’s a specific genre that she likes exclusively but she’s such a sweetheart that, whatever you like, she likes. Ko goes out of her way to discover more bands in the genre and works to learn the words so that she can sing along with you when you’re on a road trip or just hanging out in her car.
Power is usually a mess, only listening to hip hop or rap music so that she can pretend that she knows the words. She absolutely doesn’t. “Try this instead.” You pass your headphones over to her so that she can get a little taste of culture. At first, she’s so hesitant. Power almost looks like a curious kitten learning what exactly a ball of yarn is. She’s hesitant at the new thing but, eventually, realizes that she fucking loves it. “Where have you humans been hiding this stuff?” She screeches, snatching your phone away from you and scrolling through your playlist as if she can listen to the hundreds of songs at lightning speed. Power dedicates herself to cultivating a better taste in music – although she still listens to rap when you’re not around. A creature of habit.
Angel doesn’t really understand music, if he’s being honest. He sits in silence pretty often but eventually he gets sick of you calling him boring. You don’t even get the chance to show him your favorite music. Angel takes your phone with a pout and connects your headphones, scrolls through your music app to find which song you listen to most often. He’s mostly trying to get you off his back. My most annoying friend, he thinks. Before he knows it though, the lyrics are actually getting to him. He’s starting to understand. Still, he’s so new at this. Rather than getting into a band or starting a playlist, Angel just listens to that one song over and over again – never really getting tired of it. He guesses that the song makes him feel closer to you too and any closeness is good for him.
Makima gets annoyed at you sometimes too. “You’re kind of a music snob, you know that?” Her airy voice doesn’t match her words. She even criticizes you with a smile. You can’t help but tease her though. You don’t know anyone that listens to classical music exclusively like her. It’s strange to you. You show her the pop song that’s currently on top of the charts and watch her for the full three minutes and fifty six seconds. “Well?” You ask when the song ends. She shakes her head at you, lips in a thin line. No dice. Makima gives you a song to listen to as well. Nothing you’ve ever heard of and it was composed by some old dead guy like four hundred years ago or something but, as you listen, her calculating eyes stay trained on you. Something about her gaze makes the song feel like it’s playing in your head - not in headphones. The song ends in like twelve minutes and by the time it ends, you’re in tears. How could something be so beautiful, you ask yourself in your head. “Because someone put all of their love – their soul – into that song.” And her smile is so telling. You feel like you just got brainwashed.
Denji likes whatever you like. Period. You wanna listen to pop? He listens to pop. You wanna listen to rock? He listens to rock. OST? He’s on it. At first you think that he’s just being kind of a lap dog and trying to please you but, soon you realize that Denji just likes you. He looks up to you and just wants to be like you. You start the car and begin scrolling through your playlist to pick something that’s going to get you through the afternoon traffic. “What are we listenin’ to?” He leans his weight on your shoulder and waits for you to pick something for the two of you.
Quanxi usually ignores your fangirling, not interested at all in the overrated boy band of the month that’s got the whole country mesmerized. Frankly, she’s annoyed that she can’t go anywhere without hearing the overly-repetitive title track on their stupid new album. Of course, it’s irritating that she can’t even hang around you without hearing it. Still, she doesn’t want to just snap at you and tell you to turn it off. “Give this a listen.” Quanxi hands you her ancient ass mp3 player and puts the headphones on your head. She doesn’t watch you or necessarily wait for you to confirm whether or not you’re going to like it. She’s got good taste in music, okay? You’re gonna like it and then, finally, she won’t have to hear that annoying ass pop song anymore. “Should’ve done this weeks ago.” She mumbles, as you nod your head to the baseline of her favorite song.
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thotsforvillainrights · 3 months
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so happy to see asks are open!! May I please request dating headcannons with Overhaul and a quirkless reader being by his side at the shei hassaikai base. What do the other members think of her? Obviously they can’t talk or even be near her unless they wanna be meat on the floor. Poor girl just wants to make friends but her hubby makes it so hard 😔😔😔
(I would've thought I did a quirkless reader for him before but I'm admittedly too lazy to check my HIGHLY OUTDATED masterlist so fuck it. Let's do it anyway! Also, I hope it's fine I'm leaving the reader kinda open ended as usual so everyone can kinda insert themselves into this better. Thank you for the request and the chance at writing more Kai content!)
(sidenote: I really need to update that masterlist but every time I try it's nearly impossible. I let it get too far behind, send help ahhhhhhh)
~Kai's Quirkless Reader & the Hassaikai~
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-Quirkless? Not that much of a shocker he'd fall for you. The boss being in a relationship? THAT is the shocker everyone hasn't managed to let go of just yet. In fact, most of his inner circle thinks he's holding you hostage while the other half wonders how you could've ever fallen for someone as rough as Overhaul in the first place. Did he even know how to date someone? Overhaul doing gentleman shit? Overhaul possibly kissing you one day or holding hands? Overhaul being in the same vicinity as someone else for longer than a few hours? There was a slew of gossiping he couldn't really shut down (or intimidate out of the men) for a very long time. He was trying to at least get it out of control before bringing you around to meet everyone for the first time.
-He took the time you introduce you considering he would have some of the members of the Hassaikai be your personal bodyguards or escorts when he couldn't join you out. Aside from this, he didn't really want you interacting with anyone else than himself. You were headstrong (or stubborn as he'd put it) and wanted on your own to develop meaningful relationships with his main group. Where he saw workers, you saw his friends despite him never calling them that. You wanted to be as important to them as he was. None of the men really complained since you were a breath of fresh air compared to Kai. With the help of Pops preventing Kai from killing the guys, you were able to try and get to know each of them.
-Hojo thought of you as a little sibling almost, no matter what your age is. You could literally be older than him and he'd still try to treat you like a little sister/brother/sibling. It was odd, but you didn't seem to mind how careful he was or protective nonetheless. Setsuno was a lot more careful with you since he didn't want to end up like mince meat. Had you not pushed hard for him to come out of his shell, you never would've learned all the wonderful parts of his personality aside from being a legitimate gang member. Tabe was more or less clingy to your kindness. This is especially true if you end up trying to greet him with something to eat. He adores you now.
-Rappa was actually pretty taken with you from the moment he met you. Someone brave enough to go against Overjerk's rules and do what they wanted regardless of the outcome? Oh yeah, he thinks that's fucking awesome of you. Tengai is more careful about guarding your feelings and still doesn't greet you by your first name even to this day. He also spends a lot of time scolding Rappa when he's around you since he's worried the big lug will offend you somehow.
-Nemoto has been and always will be the absolute most respectful with you. He greets you with the utmost proper manners and tries to make sure you have everything you might ever need whenever he's on duty for you. You've been trying for a long time to break down his walls and get him to chill out more but I doubt that'll happen anytime soon. Deidoro fucking loves you and loves even more the fact that he can be as crazy around you as he wants to be...well, as long as Nemoto isn't there to stop him from having that fun. You don't mind it. The man is a hoot!
-Chrono has become somewhat of a close friend to you. He knows when to let his guard down and relax ever now and then. Don't get me wrong, he still respects Overhaul very much as both a friend and a leader! It's just that when he's out with you, he's not gonna say no to putting a dollar in a prize machine and trying to win an IPAD with you. If you could chose anyone to hang out with for a day, it usually ends up being Chrono. It makes sense that Kai has gotten jealous a time or two of you relationship together. Mimic on the other hand...he doesn't worry as much with you two being together. In fact, your first impression of Mimic was that someone must've been pulling a prank on you. There's no way this beanie baby can turn into a full grown man on command. Mimic thought you weren't real when he met you too either. "How much did the boss pay for you to pretend to be his partner?"
-Katsukame was...a lot upon first meeting. He let a few inappropriate comments slip and you nervously laughed it off until Kai came out and killed the guy in front of you. Since then, Katsukame learned his place around you. Oh and Pops? That old man adored you since the very first moment. How could he not? You're giving his misguided boy a chance to experience real love for the first time! To him, you were considered family from the very first day you took Kai's heart.
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bomberqueen17 · 5 months
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assorted, and snippet
it is a rainy sunday. we had a glorious last-gasp-of-summer week, 70s and sunny and lovely, and then last night as the sun went down it suddenly got cold and is going to stay that way.
today's my late father's birthday. he'd've been 79 today. farmsister asked the family groupchat if we wanted to do anything special but like, what? no, so we're just having our normal sunday family dinner. she decided to make enchiladas because while the tomatoes are done, there are still tomatillos, so she's roasting those. i decided to thaw a pork butt and i'll make a sort of al pastor kind of pulled pork for the filling, later. but at the moment i'm out in my cabin, which is a disaster area and needs cleaning. but at the moment i'm just listening to the rain on the metal roof, and i have the propane stove on to get it up to room temperature in here, and i'm dying to take a nap but probably won't.
i told myself i could sit for an hour and maybe write. I sorta don't want to write, I sorta want to fuck around and nap, lol. I'm at a bit in Peace-Tied where I'm trying to fold in stuff I wrote ahead that doesn't quite fit now, so that's complicated-- I've been resorting to using two monitors to have the old doc open in a window so I don't have to tab back and forth. But Fit For Thrones is also in an awkward spot where I wrote stuff ahead and like not a lot has changed, but I realized there needed to be a new thread introduced, so I've got to work that in, and I'm realizing a scene I wrote ages ago that was just fluffy and didn't show a lot of character development is going to have to get overhauled to fit the new concept in, which at this point is just a slight complication but later I wanna hang like a whole plot off it, so it's gotta be here-- if I put it in later it won't have any support and might not really properly hold all the weight it needs to, so. And this scene was just fluff anyway and needs more stuff in it. So that's fine. But it's hard. Because of course all I want to do is skip ahead and write the juicy weighty scene this is gonna support. But if I do that (again, as i've been doing a lot in this series, ugh) i'll get there and it won't fit and i'll have to do more of this fiddly kind of work.
I did only miss Friday's update because I was physically too busy at the time, though. It's the wind-down of the farm season but that just means people have started to peel away to do other things, there's not actually a lot less work, and so those of us left are kind of juggling a lot more balls, even if they're less heavy than they were. (more wittering specifically about FFP behind the cut, and a snippet)
So I have a bunch of stuff allllllmost ready to post, but a bunch of tricky work to do for the continuations of them. There has been a spate lately of very nice comments, some rereaders and some new readers, and I appreciate all of you and it keeps me going, really it does.
I can't find the one, though, someone commented on the latest FFT that they thought Morvran might wind up a bit subby perhaps, and I literally cackled out loud. (Someone else was speculating that he's more traumatized/demi/gray than pure ace, which I also have been trying to convey-- he's ace-spec for sure but gray, is where I'm headed with him.)
I don't think Ciri is going to wind up being particularly domme-y in her preferences-- she also would like a pretty lady to push her around please-- but understand she was raised by a bunch of dommes all around, so I had a very early slightly-cracky notion that she thinks this is how het relationships have to work (this did bear fruit in an outside-of-series published work on AO3 thanks to the Smubbles folks, here: What Every Young Woman Needs)-- but there's an excerpt here I haven't quite yet fit into the FFP continuity, which I suppose I'll put here for everyone's delectation (Ciri POV, of Morvran):
He glanced up only briefly at her arrival, flashing her a quick smile but returning to whatever he was writing, clearly intently focused. She propped a hip on the edge of the desk, waiting, and he finished writing the line and looked up at her.  There was something about the way he looked up at her, like this, something open in his expression that usually wasn’t. It sort of made her want to pull his hair, and made her suddenly understand some things about the way her-- Geralt and Yennefer had acted, around one another. She’d always thought Yennefer was perhaps too mean to Geralt, but she could suddenly understand Yennefer’s perspective, and see that maybe it… well maybe it wasn’t being mean.  But. She didn’t know Morvran near well enough to offer to pull his hair.
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loveofmyknife · 4 months
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Live Blogging the Burrow’s end finale but it’s all in one post because I can’t be bothered to reblog the same post 10 times. So like… pre-recorded blogging I guess
Spoilers. Obviously.
- loving the finale outfits! Especially the caution tape accessories!
- hey girl hey! Poor Teedles is taking all of this very well and we love them for it. I too would rather face possible death than have to babysit my boss’s children
- someone really should go check on Simon
- love how Tula is advocating for a nonviolent solution and ends it with “and we should definitely track down and murder Phoebe”. It’s nonviolent except for one specific person (being?)
- Lucas is just doing his best as a congested little boy. Somebody get him some mint! (Bint)
- “oh, mommy has so much bloodlust!” is an excellent line
- again, Brennan is unhinged, and also maybe wearing pink lipstick, which I think adds to the vibe
- Thorn being concerned for Dr Steel is so indicative of his character. He just wants to protect his people, and even though they’ve only known this human for a few hours, she is one of his people
- I DID NOT KNOW HE COULD DO THAT
- love a good title drop, but this plan seems very hastily put together. I am concerned
- persuasion- “-OR ELSE!” … ok intimidation
- gasoline lasts for however long is narratively relevant
- how many stoats does it take to drive a truck? Apparently at least 5
- I mean as far at Nat 1s go operating a gear shift as a rodent makes sense
- viola is holding this group together by sheer force of will
-oh fuck human magic!
- new map! New map!
- Oh fuck “human” NECROMANCY!
-kinda sad that Carlos isn’t playing Wennabocker on the board in some way but it obviously makes sense from a practical standpoint
- the minis!!! So cool!
-“grandma casts sounding” oh no…
- box of doom strikes again
- 40 points of damage is insane
- Lucas no! I love his little hat but no!
- hate when the BBEG rolls a Nat 20
- 69 hp…nice
- not Lucas!!
- oh Tula is never going to forgive herself for this and I have Thoughts about it
- Phoebe really is just a situation at this point
- That is exactly what a 12 year old would say when beating up an eldritch horror
- yeah I’d say hitting the ground really hard is a reckless attack, Ava
-109 damage! Jesus fucking Christ
- oh it’s some eugenics shit, okay
- Dr Steel coming to the rescue!
- I love using a bunch of skills and mechanics to get the desired outcome. Casting a spell, moving out of range of counterspell, and disengaging an opportunity attack all at the same time just to be able to fireball this meat suit
- I also would not recommend hitting a nuclear reactor with fire
- “no that’s okay” was such a power move
- “I DEBONE THAT MOTHERFUCKER” yes you do, and somehow that invents cooking! I love it
- Nat 20! “THATS! MY! WIFE!!!” Viola has taken out 4 giants in a single round. She is a badass. She is a warrior. She is my hero.
- oh yeah, Dr Steel was just standing there for all that
- We may be experiencing a tragedy but at least they’ve also invented ice cream
- LUCAS NO!
- ok yeah i might be sobbing a little, what of it?
- I like that Ava can have a little magic as a treat
- I personally welcome our new stoat overlords
- babies!
-Get it, Tula! But seriously I like that she really got to process life without being just a widow and a mother before moving on
-baby’s first word: viscera. This is cannon
-Ava’s doing great, and her life is in her own hands. She’s completely overhauling the local law enforcement and creating triple A
- Dr Lila! She’s a nuclear physicist now!
- Did not expect Jaysohn to go for an Airbud plot line but I’m not mad at it
Closing thoughts: I loved it! I think the ending was pretty abrupt but taking out the BBEG in like 2 rounds will do that so I can’t fault them for it. I would have loved for at least one of the party to take over Education, and I think Tula was kind of set up for it but I’m glad she gets to just enjoy life now instead. I can’t wait to see tomorrow’s Adventuring Party and I’m super excited about next season!
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aubieinsanity · 10 months
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#trigunbookclub | Vol 1 | 03-04
Click here for an archive of all my #trigunbookclub posts
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🚨 Dorito alert 🚨
Commentary under the cut!
[Art & Story by Yasuhiro Nightow. Translation by Trigun Ultimate Overhaul.] [Disclaimer: I have consumed much meta content & had many conversations about Trigun on Tumblr and Discord since earlier in 2023. Lots of my commentary will be a result of cooperative analysis, so thank you to all who share their thoughts!] [Warning: While I will mostly avoid manga spoilers, some of my commentary will involve discussion of future topics. I am also assuming readers have seen the 98 anime and/or Trigun Stampede and are at least somewhat familiar with some of the major story beats.]
This chapter is so great. It's the first time we see Vash's intense concern for the welfare of others, right down to his utter willingness to put himself in harm's way to protect those around him. He completely ignores the Nebraskas while he moves the women out of harm's way -- although he's already made his feelings known by writing "kiss my ass" on Gofsef's hand in the previous chapter. Everyone just stands by and watches as he works, because Vash has already made it abundantly clear that he is not to be fucked with.
I actually really enjoy the way Gofsef and Father Nebraska allow Vash to pull the women to safety without interfering. They're not here to be merciless. They're here to collect the bounty on Vash. Father Nebraska lights a cigar, later asks "You done?!"
Perhaps the most core moral dilemma to Trigun also comes up here:
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This comes up a lot more later in Trimax, comes up in the 98 anime, and has already come up in Stampede s1 (a challenger appears... it's Wolfwood!) Hell, it even comes up in Badlands Rumble: Vash chooses to protect the life of a dangerous criminal; that criminal then goes on to take many more lives. If Vash had allowed that man to die, those other lives might have been spared. So, was what Vash did right or wrong? (Spoiler alert: there is no clear cut answer.) Wanting everyone to come out alive is a very tricky (read: impossible) thing to achieve, especially on this cutthroat planet. And, obviously, when you're Vash the Stampede.
I should stop talking about this, because it's going to come up again and again, and it's way too early to start an in-depth commentary on Trigun's moral quandaries
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The glasses. The glasses come out here. In the manga, Vash puts on his glasses when shit's about to get serious. Why? To improve his aim. Vash's lenses are orange. Orange lenses block blue light, which is particularly useful on a bright, hazy, desert planet. They help to reduce glare and increase contrast. Vash needs his bullets to go exactly where he wants them, in order to quickly disarm or disable his opponent, and to ensure he doesn't accidentally kill them.
We typically see Vash put on his glasses in the manga when he's about to enter a gunfight. He sometimes also wears them when traveling or out in the bright sun. Vision benefits aside, I think he also sometimes wears them as a sort of mask, something to hide behind. (This is particularly noticeable in Stampede. God, I could write a whole in-depth post about Stampede Vash's glasses and maybe I will)
All the bystanders think Vash is crazy. They think he's about to be demolished. Meanwhile, Vash is unrattled, focused. Of course he can do this. If anything, he's just upset about all the violence. He fires off several bullets with godlike accuracy and successfully disarms Gofsef's rocket arm. Cue the sassy bitch.
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Oh, also, add 1 to our plantussy count:
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~ Plantussy count: 4 ~
AND THEN MERYL'S BACK WITH HER MEGAPHONE GOD I LOVE HER SO MUCH (and poor Milly clinging on for dear life)
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INTRODUCING~~~ VASH THE STAMPEDE, HUMAN DISASTER!!!
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Meryl's intense energy vs. Milly's friendly energy, 💯 -- love Vash's different expressions. Then Milly gets her badass moment, and baddaboom! The girls and Vash have officially met.
Onto chapter 4! look at me, putting two chapters into one post!!!
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what the *hell* this is so soft he is so soft i am dead this has slain me
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It's been a couple weeks at this point. Vash gave up the $$700,000 bounty he got for defeating the Nebraskas, and he gave it all away to the town. He considers free sandwiches a fair trade. (read: He knows the townspeople desperately need the money. He doesn't. It's not even a question.)
Vash slips out to hop on the sandsteamer, hoping no one notices. He wears a cloak to hide his red coat and his glasses to hide his eyes. (May I refer to my previous point that Vash sometimes wears his glasses as a "mask")
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Unfortunately, local child (Tonis! Namesake for the kid in Stampede) exposes Vash, who is then subjected to the horrors of a lively celebration in which the most fickle town in existence praises him and wishes him well (/sarcasm...well, except for the fickle part)
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I have already commented on how Meryl is so freaking captivated and already falling in love (here and here) but here are the panels again!!!!
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CONSUME MY VASHMERYL AGENDA
(Listen: I love vashmeryl AND vashwood. I love both ships from both a romantic and a platonic perspective. I am also not thingy about it and am open to enjoying / letting others enjoy all ships. No ship wars here)
Then, there's the women. I have posted about this before, but I want to write some updated/summary thoughts.
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The town (or maybe just this one dude?) hires two women who are presumably prostitutes to pleasure Vash as a reward / thank you for saving the town. Vash pretends to be asleep so they will leave him be.
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Vash says that was 'more than he deserved...maybe' and appears to feel a little regret over not being able to fully enjoy himself.
🚨 Headcanon incoming 🚨
HC #1) Vash is not a virgin. I think it is only natural that he, a lover of people and joy and connection, would have slept with a number of people, moreso in his younger years. Then, as he grew older and he A) realized he would outlive and lose all those he had a connection with, and B) accumulated grotesque scars all over his body, Vash chose to avoid physical intimacy altogether.
HC #2) Vash is a virgin / ace, desperately craves intimacy and closeness, but avoids it for the same reasons as above.
Either way, Vash is denying himself comfort and joy.
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*obligatory bisexual snoozing pose*
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Also, Vash is fucking done with other people's shit and just wants a moment of freaking peace to himself
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TEEF TEEF TEEF
look at those fangs
And one final thought:
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I highly doubt Vash was actually fooled by this kid. Vash frequently plays the fool, the jester, the ignoramus, all to disarm the other person, and usually so he can stay close to them because he knows they are in danger and wants to be in a position where he can protect them.
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apocalypticromantic666 · 10 months
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In 2020, I posted my first fanfic on Ao3.
Though I had written stories before, this was something I had become completely immersed in. I lived and breathed that fandom. I built my own world, my own sanctuary in that particular story, and poured so much of myself into it through all of the characters. It was also the first stepping stone in trying to work out trauma through writing, instead of internalizing it like I did for years on end.
I was really proud of that work. But I was still finding my narrative voice, and now that I am more experienced, I can see where it was shaky or even fell flat. Dialogue and descriptions, as well as sentence structure, needed a lot of tweaking.
I was new to Ao3, too, and the hits feature made me feel as though I were under a spotlight- it blew my mind to know thousands of people worldwide were reading my work.
After many kudos and encouraging comments begging to know what happened next, or readers wanting updates, it never occurred to me that someone might not like my creation.
Later that year, in a dm, someone from that fandom that I was at odds with proceeded to tell me that my writing was 'stilled, very bland and tries to hard in regards to my works'.
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That one hurt. A lot. And this was coming from someone whose writing I had, at one time, admired. However, she turned out to be someone who, in my opinion, was not at all worthy of admiration.
And now, it is glaringly obvious to me that the reason she was so hateful is that she herself was terribly insecure with her own writing. And that she was likely telling me what she had been told about her works.
Once I shook off that hurt, those petty insults sparked my determination, and gave me the drive to work towards making my writing outshine not only my previous works, but hers as well.
That fic underwent a massive overhaul a year later, and was told from a different point of view. Writing from second person put a lot of things in perspective for me. Something clicked, and I unlocked my narrative voice.
Since then, I was told that purple prose was my strong point by more than one person, and that I've made massive strides in improvement. And this came from writers that I truly do admire. However, at the time, I was not certain I believed them because of what that other person told me before- when they planted a little seed of insecurity in me.
Over the last 3 years, it sprouted; and every time I doubted myself, every time I scrapped a draft because I thought it was bland or weak, or I was afraid someone wouldn't like it, I watered it.
But tonight, I am confident and drunk enough to say that I ripped that sprout out by the fucking roots after finding one of my Sebastian/Ciel fics on page 3 of Ao3 when sorting by kudos, and have indeed surpassed what I ever thought was possible for me. 😂 💖
For context, there are 3,449 works under Sebastian/Ciel, and Sweet Flesh was written in September of 2021. It is barely 2 years old.
Frank Sinatra once said “The best revenge is massive success.” He couldn't have been more right. I have come a VERY long way in 3 years, and while I am still learning and honing my craft, I will never doubt my talent or skills again.
Do not ever let anyone try to bully you out of doing what you love, or make you doubt yourself because they don't like what you made. You don't even have to be 'good' at your favorite hobbies! What matters is that you enjoy yourself and you find fulfillment in them. And if someone tries to discourage you by insulting what gives you joy, let me tell you that their opinion isn't worth. Jack. Fucking. Shit.
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epickiya722 · 1 year
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REACTIONS TO EPISODE 20 - ASSASSIN
The usual! Jokes, me having feelings, there's some pictures, questions... all that!
LAST EPISODE'S REACTIONS
I really want to fight these people!! LEAVE HER ALONE!!
Again, how I adore Izuku "Deku" Midoriya!! Coming to her rescue!
"It's her fault to dress up like that and wander around. People can get the wrong idea." Hm. Why does that sound so familiar?! FUCK YOU, MAN!!!!
Maybe it's me, but she is too cute!!! Like!!! Shes crying and everything and I just want to hug her and protect her!!
Dad... I mean All Might handing him the lunch... WRAPPED IN BUNNIES!!! MY HEART CAN'T HANDLE THIS!!! 😭💚🐇
AAAAAAWWWW!!!
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Hey, Banjo!
IZUKU, STOP BEING SO CUTE!!!! 💚
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"Please, my hero." Okay, for real, what is up with the OFA users and my feelings?
They just... okay who put these two in time out?
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Banjo never not made me laugh. 🤣
YOICHI'S SMILE!!! 💚💚
THE 3RD IS SPEAKING, SHUSH!!!
THE 2ND IS SPEAKING, SHUSH!!!
I still can't believe they went to kill him and instead rescue him.
OMG, THEY GIVING US THE RESCUE SCENE!!!
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... you held hands... and thus OFA started... what kind of romantic...
Nah, for real, if that's when OFA transferred it makes sense when you think about it. When it began at Yoichi and 2nd, it was weak. By the time it reached Izuku, it was so strong that it needed not only a quirkless person to handle it, but DNA from the previous user to be consumed. Over time OFA, became stronger and adaptable to the point it's almost like a sentient being with the OFA Users inhabiting its core... I need to make this a separate post...
I love the OFA Users! Looking like a rainbow! But why Nana had to be pink?
I'm joking, I actually like the shade on her!!! BUT THAT PURPLE ON EN!!! I LOVE PURPLE!!! 💜💜💜
Endeavor standing behind that pillar like that!!! 🤣
The 2nd telling Izuku things will get faster *laughs in manga reader* and Izuku biting in his food all seriously determined. Not intentional, but that is both funny and cute.
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"You were the cause of everything." And Endeavor just agrees. That's hilarious. But... it was a team effort! 😃 Clap it up for Endeavor for Dabi, AFO for just being AFO, the Doctor for being very disrespectful by MESSING WITH CORPSES, Kotaro for being a crap dad...
The civilians telling the heroes to leave and they're doing just that... like they're leaving!!!
Best Jeanist catching the stuff thrown at them though.
Okay, I don't get the civilians. They're mad at the heroes for not showing up and yet when they do show up to help they're mad!! MAKE UP YOUR MIND!!
Izuku Midoriya bet not become a target... *sighs in manga reader* I hate the civilians...
"I can't let Deku carry any more burdens." 😶 This is Izuku you're talking about here.
He is so pretty.
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Why they even put that man on life support?!
Gotta feel sorry for Tomura. AFO really just have been using him the whole time.
"He is obsessed with his younger brother." I mean, look at that face!! Yoichi is just so kind and pretty! I would want to protect him, too! The difference is I'm not gonna lock him in a vault and be a creep about it. I'm glad the 2nd & 3rd broke him out!!
"A lack of humanity." Yep
Again, I'm telling you, Deku is being like All Might was. Without meaning to. YOU SEE WHAT NIGHTEYE MEANT?!
Oh shit, did she just shoot his phone and a bomb at All Might! DISRESPECTFUL!!
Lady Nagant!!! Wait a fucking minute!!! HER HAIR ARE HER BULLETS?! WHAT THE HELL?!
"I'll let you keep all your limbs." Lady, he doesn't even take of his limbs like that. Your threats are so empty.
Oh, she's gorgeous!
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Hey, Overhaul, how was prison?
OH SHIT THEY GOT SNIPE ON TV!!!
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"I should have left him behind." Why didn't you?
I forget how damn big AFO is. Him and All Might just make everyone look like ants.
Except for that fox lady and some other folks.
I love how she just interrupts AFO. Not a lot of people have the balls, but she got brash ones.
"He was a victim..." ERI WAS THE VICTIM!! Of course, AFO wouldn't care about that because he doesn't give a damn about anyone!
He gave her Air Walk, oh nice.
And the next episode continues with the fight!!!
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averseunhinged · 5 months
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I HAVE A THING!!!
i'm mostly neck deep in my autumn exchange fic, but have also been working on this klaroline fic that is technically for halloween, but god only knows if i'll finish it, b/c i'm also trying to finish one single gd thing for riverrosetober.
this is a snippet from the halloween fic. it's technically a true blood crossover, but there's only one mention of a single season villain, and i kinda massaged that character's lore a smidge. tiny bit. a skosh. completely overhauled it. so, you don't need to have seen that at all. anyway, i'm trying to make it an exercise in just writing something and then blissfully sending it out into the world without obsessing over it. lololololololol
Klaus didn't notice at first.
Understandable, given the situation he found himself in, New Orleans a far bigger clusterfuck than he'd anticipated. Unforgivable, because he hadn't spent over a millennium honing his paranoia only to lose focus and fall down on the job once two-thirds of his long-term plans had resolved in his favor. And perhaps he was at his wits end, but he found himself oddly bored by the proceedings. Marcel and the witches. Hayley and Camille. His family. Despite the intrigue and murder, two of his favorite pastimes, there was something a bit hollow and listless about it all. Like the excitement he'd found in Mystic Falls had been leeched out of him, leaving only tepid machinations. He recalled joy bubbling up inside of him, like champagne and sunshine, but could no longer invoke anything of the sort.
It took weeks of turning the problem over and over in his mind, before he began to sense the stitchwork in his memory. Even then, it wasn't until he was observing--not stalking, Rebekah, thank you very much--Cami at Rousseau's one night that he knew what had been removed.
Or rather: who.
He spent the evening sweet-talking the bartender as she poured him drink after drink, tipping her every time, until she finally tossed over her shoulder, sassy and offhand, "You're not going to seduce me, Klaus. I'm way too smart to fall for those lines."
He hardly managed to stagger outside and to an isolated location before he was on the ground, clawing at the agony in his head, at the lonely, longing desperation erupting in his chest. The smell of his own blood gagging him, even as he mutilated himself like an animal, trying to tear out what tortured him. It eased off gradually, until eventually he found himself panting, filthy, and exhausted, soothed by the nearby rush of the Mississippi and its muddy-fishy-pollution stink, and the endorphin-soaked relief of the absence of pain.
When he could think again, he fumbled for his cellphone, arms rubbery and fingers clumsy, and despite his bleary vision, found a contact he would have sworn hadn't been there an hour ago. Except it had. He'd had her name, her mobile number, home address, email, the terrible strip mall Chinese restaurant whose egg rolls she loved, her bloody mother's bloody blood type, for fuck's sake, stored in his contacts for months.
His guts curdled when an automated voice told him the line wasn't in service.
He went down the Mystic Falls contacts. The Bennett witch didn't answer. Neither did Stefan. Damon, remarkably, did.
"Listen, I thought the whole taking your psycho family and moving far, far away thing meant I got to stop having these little bromantic chit-chats with you," the absolute prick on the other end of the line said without a greeting.
"If I could reach anyone else, believe me, we wouldn't be," Klaus ground out, throat like broken glass and raw meat.
"Jesus, you sound like shit. Well, almost everyone's gone traveling for the summer, now that things have settled down. If you need a witch, Bonnie's not really taking calls. And also hates you, so you know. Tough luck."
"Who do you suppose I'm calling in regards to, you imbecile?" Klaus panted, heaving himself up off the ground. "Caroline! I'm trying to reach Caroline!"
There was a long pause, and then, with the kind of honest bewilderment that could not be faked, Damon Salvatore asked, "Who?"
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chaos-night · 1 year
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Chapter 17: Kind Hands
If you want to know when updates will be posted, you can check out my schedule.
Rating: M
Pairing: Hawks x fem!reader x Dabi | strong platonic Shigaraki & fem!reader
Other characters: League of Villains friendships, Eri, All Might, Bakugou Katsuki
Chapter summary: It's just another day stuck with the Shie Hassaikai. You grow closer to Eri, wondering what part she plays in Overhaul's grand plan. Separated from the League, you do your best to manage in the underground labyrinth of the Yakuza hideout. Perhaps your ripples in the water might just end up making waves.
Chapter word count: 5.8k
Full fic CW: canon compliant (will be taking a hiatus after chapter 30 until the manga concludes), sort of kidnapping?, drug use and addiction, abuse and manipulation from AFO, spoilers, abuse towards characters (canon), character death (canon), violence, descriptions of blood and injuries (canon), accidental pregnancy, smut (unprotected sex), all sex is consensual, mentions of weight loss due to homelessness, mentions of disordered eating patterns due to chronic drug use in later chapters (note it’s not due to mental health but is a side effect of the drugs)
Other tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, love triangle, platonic soulmates
Tag list: @tokyometronetwork
Chapter snippet below | minors dni
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You spend most of your waking hours with Eri. The girl quickly grows fond of you, and the anger of the Shie Hassaikai members is more than obvious at the girl’s attachment. Whispers of “remember the last guy that took care of her? The boss killed him in only a few days. Wonder how long this newbie will last” and “why does the boss trust that foreign bitch with his most private possession” echo through the walls as you pass through corridors. 
The mistreatment of the child is obvious, but the objectification of her leads to a curiosity that makes you furious. Whatever Overhaul is doing to Eri—whatever his plan is and your involvement—is much more insidious than what you’ve been led to believe. Piecing it together makes your mind ache more than it usually does.
So, you march right up to him, barging into the room without your escort and demanding answers.
“What the fuck are you doing to her?” you yell.
Immediately, his cronies have their guns pointed at you. Wiping around, you grab the barrel of Chronostasis’s gun aiming it at the center of your forehead.
“Kill me, I dare you! You’ll have Shigaraki Tomura and the rest of the League of Villains to deal with,” you challenge, fire in your eyes as you stare the man down through his mask.
“Chrono, everyone, stand down,” Overhaul addresses them.
The Yakuza members slowly lower their weapons, Chronostasis hesitating until he too relents to his boss’s order.
“What did Eri tell you?” 
You turn back to look at the cold eyes of the man in charge. “Nothing. Shoe doesn’t have to tell me anything. I’m not stupid.”
“That’s unfortunate for you, because if you were, then your life would be much easier.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Your cleverness will get you killed someday. The only reason I won’t kill you is because you’re the only person Eri has warmed up to. I don’t care about Shigaraki or the League’s attachment to you. You’re not special at all.”
It’s such an odd thing to say but considering how Overhaul treats everyone around him as expendable, it’s not a necessarily unsurprising statement for him to make. 
“What are you doing to her?” You hold your ground, eyes locked with his despite every urge to look somewhere else.
“If I tell you, I can’t ever let you return to your precious friends. It’s top-secret information.”
“Yeah, only a select few Shie Hassaikai even know,” the small Yakuza, Mimic, adds.
You demand again, “Tell to me. Right now.”
Overhaul sucks his teeth. “Your Japanese is cute, foreigner. It’s no wonder she likes you. Listen carefully, because I can’t speak English and I’m not going to bother trying to translate anything. Eri is special and her sacrifice is necessary for my plan.” He holds up one of the red bullets, a silver-colored needle sticking out from the top, sharp and piercing the air.
Flashes of Eri’s bandaged arms fill your mind and you think you’re going to be sick all over him. For a moment, the idea amuses you—the thought of watching him scratch at his sick soaked skin as he yells in agony at something seemingly so simple. Under any normal circumstances, you would never think of someone’s pain with such light, but the thought of terrorizing the man in front of you fills you with a sense of twisted glee.
He continues, “These little bullets will topple hero society in its entirety. Then, we will rule from the underground.”
You want him to suffer greatly for what he’s done.
“Why are you doing this?” you ask.
“The world is filled with disease. You’re part of the minority not plagued, so consider yourself lucky. However, you’ve still fallen victim to the symptoms of a hero-villain society. Despite being quirkless, you’re not immune to the sickness quirks bring. Just look at your friend. He’d still be alive if—”
“SHE!” you raise your voice. “SHE would still be alive if you had not killed her! It was by your hand!”
“She had to be disposed of because she decided to attack me. You weren’t even there, but I can assure you that it was the League that made the first move.”
“Mag-nee would only do something if she felt her friends were in danger. Our big sister always looked after everyone first.” You stand your ground, defending your dear friend in her death.
“Perhaps she felt threatened by me, but the altercation was started by her hand. Don’t forget that the next time you march in here demanding something. I run the show, and you follow my rules.” Overhaul’s sinister voice makes your skin crawl. “You’re all expendable to me. One more step out of line you’ll end up like your friend. This is your one warning.”
Mister’s words echo in your mind, “Your goal is to come back unharmed, that’s all”.
You swallow every urge to fight back—the desire to fully attack him and rip him to shreds with your bare hands like a feral animal—and turn to leave, ending the conversation there.
I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you…
It repeats in your mind until you feel like your head will split open. Perhaps that’s how Jin feels constantly. The thought of your friends and the anger boiling inside of you brings tears to your eyes. You slip into the first door you find and sink to the floor letting yourself cry away the pain and agony.
You wish you could do more. You wish you could do at least something worthwhile.
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artificialqueens · 9 months
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🏳️‍🌈 The Miracle of Living Pt.1 (Bianca Del Rio/BenDeLaCreme ig??) - Lita 
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In this world we're just beginning  To understand the miracle of living
Hello everyone! Welcoe to the long-awaited prequel to the Bitney San Junipero AU that I technically started writing five years ago (???) but recently decided to try and breathe new life into and complete. In theory this can stand alone as its own story with a few vague references to Black Mirror future tech sprinkled in, but it's really just setup to the main fic that kind of got away from me. The story has gotten a complete overhaul, so if anyone from Ye Olden Days remembers it - please do stick around and read this new version, I promise it's better. 
Massive thank you to @veronicasanders for giving me the kick up the ass required to get this story back off the ground, throwing her ideas at me, and being my Google when it comes to divorce court and the American college system. Love you mom - I hope this story is everything you'd dreamed of <3
Summary: Bianca is twenty-one, flunking college, and - thanks to a night of drunk bad decision-making - she's pregnant with her gay best friend's baby. 
Los Angeles, California
 January 17th, 2022
“BEN!” 
Bianca’s furious voice rings out through the small apartment. She’s sitting on the toilet with her pajama pants and underwear around her ankles, willing the second blue line to disappear. If anything, it’s getting darker. 
“Uh…yeah?” The reply comes from the other side of the bathroom door.  
“I thought you said you wore a fucking condom!”
“I did!” Ben protests. Then, meek and cautious: “...It might have split.” 
“It might have what?”
Two and a half months ago, Bianca and Ben had gone out drinking to commiserate the ends of their respective relationships - Ben had found out about his long-term boyfriend’s secret Grindr profile and dumped him, then Bianca’s longest-lasting FWB had called it quits with her less than a week later. When they got home, drunk and dumb and miserable, they’d started making out with each other on the couch - as a joke, just for something to do. And then, since they were shitfaced and apparently didn’t know any better, one ‘joke’ led to another, and they’d woken up naked in Ben’s bed. They had laughed it off the morning after, hunched at the kitchen table over alka-seltzer and black coffee - too much liquor, too many emotions. Shit happens. 
And then tonight, Bianca had mentioned offhand that she was incredibly overdue her period, and suggested going out to buy a test half as a joke. Ben had gone along with it a little too willingly, and he’d been overly-energised and super fucking weird on the walk to the drugstore. Really, Bianca should have known something was up when he detoured via the liquor store across the street, and came back with two bottles of tequila. 
“Ben, are you fucking kidding me?” Bianca says through her teeth. 
“I was gonna tell you,” Ben replies, sounding flustered. “Is the door locked? Can I come in?”
Bianca wants to say no, but it was Ben’s curiosity about her vagina that got them here in the first place, so who cares about whether or not he sees her now? She reaches over to turn the lock. Ben shuffles into the room in his leopard-print boxers and an oversized pajama shirt, and perches on the edge of the bathtub, looking at the floor. 
Part of Bianca wants to burst into tears - another part of her wants to scream until she throws up. Not now. Not fucking now - not like this. She’s twenty-one; Bianca doesn’t even know that she wants a goddamn kid at all, forget about one fathered by her gay best friend. 
“Look, I didn’t notice until after we were done. And I didn’t want to freak you out - I figured it would probably be nothing, and then there was never a good time, and then you told me you were late and I…” 
“You’re a faggot, we were hammered, we fucked because we thought it would be funny - if you knew that there was any chance whatsoever that you’d knocked me up, you should have fucking told me!” Bianca snarls through gritted teeth. 
Ben doesn’t say anything for a moment. He doesn’t really react either. He just sits there and looks at her; composed, taking it in. 
Bianca met Ben at a theater summer camp when they were sixteen. Ben had just moved from Seattle; he was about to start junior year at the private school across town. They led fundamentally different lives - Bianca had found herself seethingly jealous of him and his cakewalk of a fucking existence when she first met him, resolved that she had no other choice but to hate him on premise. But they’d been assigned as duet partners for the end-of-summer showcase and, faced with no other choice but to get along with him, she’d discovered that they were fucking made for each other. Ben didn’t mind that Bianca was kind of a bitch; he laughed at her jokes, he seemed to understand her. All three qualities she’d never experienced from other kids her age. One juvenile performance of Waltz for Eva and Che later, and she’d found an apparent friend for life. 
And then, once high school drew to a close and Bianca was confronted head-on with the unblinking abyss of her future and its hopelessness, he’d offered her an exit route. He was freaked out by the idea of sharing a dorm with a stranger, so his dad had eventually relented after months of begging to privately rent an apartment - he just needed a roommate. She’d never expected that that offer would land her here. 
“So, you’re pregnant?” He asks cautiously. 
“Yeah - no shit, Sherlock.”
“Do you think you should take another one? To make sure or whatever?” Ben asks. Bianca presses the heel of her hand to her temple, still not breaking eye contact with the pregnancy test. 
“Nope - that looks pretty positive to me,” Bianca shows it to him, wiping the mist of stress-sweat from her brow. Ben pulls a vaguely disgusted face. There’s a moment of pause - Bianca bites her lip, struggling to make sense of the messy cocktail of emotions swirling around inside her head. 
“Are you okay?” Ben tries to take Bianca’s hand. It feels weirdly violating to have someone touching her while she’s sitting on the toilet. She swats him away. 
“I think so. I need a little time to get my head around…everything.” Bianca grits her teeth. 
All the scary new problems are dawning on her all at once, like she’s being descended on by a swarm of wasps. College. How to tell her parents. Hospital bills. College again. The apartment is too small for another person. She’ll probably be a shitty mother. Ben. Ben’s pending status as an absent father. She’s never changed a diaper before. College. Fucking college.  
She’s currently scraping through year number four of her two-year community college program. Which, as it turns out, only takes two years if you aren’t working full-time to try and keep yourself fed and housed. Ben’s impending graduation from USC - full ride for a screenwriting major, family that gave a shit about him - made that feel even more grim.  
This whole convoluted, stupid journey to something better had felt both never-ending and deeply hopeless for the last thirty-six months, and now the whole endeavor is decisively fucked. Even if she does make it to that prophesied something better - enough credits to earn her a spot in the fashion merchandising major she’d been declined acceptance to straight out of high school - there’s no way she can handle real college with a fucking screaming infant permanently attached to her. She can feel the dream crumbling in her hands.  
Bianca makes a silent resolution that she’s not putting her own kid - who still feels very much like a hypothetical even though it very much isn’t - through the same shit. You’re eighteen now, you’re not our problem any more. It really didn’t help that every screaming argument with her mom in the leadup to her high school graduation had been silently spectated by her brother - in all his uneducated, unemployed, twenty-seven year old glory - from his position fossilized into the living room couch with his PlayStation controller in his hand. We’re not paying for you to stay in this house and fuck your life up - why her specifically? 
Her desire not to be their problem had trailed her from NOLA to LA with Ben, and that was its own issue. She leaves on her terms and she’s abandoning her family, even though it was their sharp insistence that she got a job or an apartment or fucking something else that didn’t involve her living at home and taking up too much space that had pushed her in that direction in the first place. What the fuck was there for her at home anyway? Community college and shitty waitressing jobs? At least she could do the same shit against a prettier backdrop on the other side of the country. 
Bianca realizes she’s staring dementedly at the test in her hand again. She sniffs, trying to blink away tears she hadn’t noticed forming.
“I really didn’t see being a single mom in my life plan,” she mutters - thinking out loud.
Except she had. In her bleaker moments - the ones in which she was seventeen and terrified of what would happen if she never got out of her hometown. She hadn’t had that nightmare since she and Ben had packed his car and left at the beginning of September four years ago. 
“Who says you have to be a single mom?” Ben tilts his head, reaching a hand out for her again. 
Bianca scoffs. 
“What? No- Ben, I really don’t want to date you - one night was bad enough.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. But like…if you’re gonna go through with this, I’m not just leaving you by yourself to do it. Both of us did something dumb, and now we’re here - so, both of us should have to parent the consequence.” 
There’s a quiet, sympathetic smile on Ben’s face. Bianca still wants to fucking kill him. She eyes him up, searching for any hints of deception or fake-niceness. Surprisingly, he passes the on-the-spot analysis. 
“You’re just saying that so I stop being mad at you.”
“No! Anyway, I can’t let you raise it by yourself - I love you, but the world really, really doesn’t need two of you.”
“Ha-ha, go suck a dick,” Bianca rolls her eyes. She can’t help but crack a smile. 
“If this is what happens when I try to go outside my comfort zone, then yeah, that’s what I’m sticking to.”  
****
2nd May, 2022
“That was less excruciating than I thought it would be,” Bianca arches her back as she perches on the edge of the bed, stretching out. Her hair is still elaborately styled; what little of her makeup had survived the day still on her face.
She’d abandoned her dress on the floor the second that they got to their hotel room. She’s basically naked, which Ben seems perplexingly unbothered by; married, heterosexual life seems to have changed him quicker than she thought it would. It’s a relief, finally being alone with him. She’d have preferred to actually be alone, but after a day of forced smiles and overwhelm, he was better than nothing. 
“Absolutely,” Ben nods, sitting down to untie his shoes. He’s still wearing his tux - his black curls are coiffed back from his face, and he’d almost pass for straight, were it not for his meticulously groomed eyebrows. “I mean, I could have done with maybe seventy percent less beer and sports talk from your dad - I was starting to think he was onto me.” 
“I thought everyone knew there’s no home runs in football - that’s not a gay thing, you’re just dumb.” 
The shotgun wedding hadn’t really been a part of the plan, but after Bianca’s mom had found out that she was pregnant, and then proceeded to call her non-stop for weeks in order to berate her for bringing shame on the family like it was the fucking 1800s, Ben had suggested it. Her mother’s bizarre and endlessly changing standards of behavior continue to baffle Bianca.  
The decision to go ahead with it seemed a bit weird, but ‘weird’ had become a default preset of Bianca’s existence since January. Ben had thrown himself into the organization with immediate, over-the-top passion - opening up Pinterest and starting on the moodboard five minutes after Bianca had agreed to it. It had kept him entertained and out of the way, which was nice - he’d already started reading parenting books, and was being a little overbearing about prenatal vitamins and whether or not Bianca had made her birth plan yet. 
Outside of picking out her dress, Bianca hadn’t really had to do or think about anything. Marrying a gay man had its perks. She’d had a brief reprieve from Ben’s preemptive helicopter parenting, which gave her more energy to focus on finding bigger apartments, since otherwise the kid would be sleeping in the closet, and trying to convince her job that no, four weeks definitely wasn’t enough maternity leave. 
The wedding day had been quietly excruciating - her family, her mom specifically, engaging in that grim unspoken facade of keeping up appearances. Pretending that everything was completely fine and normal, denying any knowledge of Bianca’s pregnancy when asked about it. It would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so fucking normal for her. The atmosphere had been thorny, and Bianca had spent most of the day choking back alcohol-free prosecco and waiting for it to be over. 
Ben’s family - who seemed confused but generally enthusiastic about the whole ordeal, probably only half-buying Ben’s assertion that he was actually bi and Bianca was definitely the one - seemed to like Bianca though, and that was refreshing. Some kind of normalcy in As Yet Unnamed Kid’s extended family was deeply necessary. They, and Ben himself, had been the only bearable part of the whole thing. Plus they’d fronted most of the expenses and organized the reception at their country club, which was a damn sight better than the social hall of the church that Bea’s family pretended to attend. 
“Anyway, I’ve got proof that we’ve fucked at least once, so I don’t think anyone was super suspicious,” Ben continues as Bianca flops back onto the plush bed, letting out a heavy sigh. “How is she doing?” 
“She’s fine - she let Mommy keep all of her food down today, so that’s something,” Bianca says. 
She’s kind of starting to show now; although just to the point where she looks spectacularly bloated, rather than recognisably pregnant. They didn’t actually know what gender she was yet - but Bea had a feeling. Maybe it was more of a hope, actually; if it was a boy, Ben got to pick the name, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about calling it Raphael. 
The kid had been a little bitch recently - whenever Bianca tried to complain about it, Ben would just laugh and remind her that she clearly took after her mom. After a lot of smugness about how she’d not had morning sickness at all, it hit her like a truck for some reason the moment she hit her second trimester. She’d spent the better part of the month before the wedding bent over a toilet bowl. Bianca is already pretty fucking sick of being pregnant, and she’s not even halfway done - she’s always tired, and her boobs hurt, and she misses comfortable sleep and coffee. She thought that nine months with no booze would be the hard part, but dragging herself through life without caffeine is proving to be the real kicker. 
“This is weird,” Bianca muses, staring up at the ceiling.  
“What’s weird?” Ben turns to look at her, eyes landing on and then immediately flashing away from her exposed tits.  
“Try and think about it for like, slightly longer than you wanna think about it. You’re my husband, and I’m pregnant with your kid,” she says plainly. “In what universe was that ever something either of us would have wanted a year ago?" 
“Okay, so maybe you’re kind of messy and annoying, and you talk with your mouth full like, all the time and it’s really gross, but I can think of worse people to spend the rest of my life with,” he shrugs. Bianca swats at him with a pillow. 
“Thanks a lot.” She aims for pissed, but a smile cracks its way through. “Anyway, it’s not the rest of our lives - play pretend for a few years, then split up and go and live our truths or whatever once she moves out, like we agreed,” Bianca says. Ben nods knowingly.  
That was another aspect of things that she was a little hesitant about. Ben had meant what he said about sticking around and raising the kid, but they’d always planned for something more like coparenting. They’d have the baby, and then grow the fuck up and get their own relationships and apartments and lives while splitting custody. 
So, the sham marriage thing had interfered with that master plan quite a fucking lot. The situation had divulged into a years-long commitment to lying to people - no dating, since what was gonna happen when the kid started talking and blabbed to whatever set of grandparents about Daddy’s boyfriend? They were gonna be stuck living together for the foreseeable. So, even more keeping up of fucking appearances, which Bianca can’t stand doing it. But the ring on her finger is a glaring, expensive sign that she’s already committed.  
They’d talked about it already; pretend to everyone, including the kid, that everything was entirely fine and normal until she was old enough to understand it, get a divorce in about eighteen years, and go their separate ways while continuing to be friends if they could still stand the sight of each other. Easy. 
“Thinking about it like that just makes it sound worse,” Ben leans back to lie next to her, loosening his tie. “It’s gonna be fine. One step at a time.”
“Sure,” Bianca replies, distant. 
“I mean,” Ben rolls over onto his side, lowering his eyelids into an expression that Bianca imagines is supposed to be seductive. “It is our wedding night - how about round two?”
“Ew - no, never.” Bianca cracks a smile, pushing him away. Ben laughs. 
“Thank god, I barely got through saying that without puking.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt and glancing around the expansive bridal suite - still a mess from Bea getting ready that morning. “Do you want me to take the couch?”  
Bianca thinks for a second.
“Nah - that doesn't feel fair. I’ve been averaging getting up to pee about ten times a night though, so you can look forward to that.” She looks down at her belly, putting both hands around her barely-noticeable bump. “I hope you know you’re already a gigantic pain in my ass, baby.”  
****
September 29th, 2022  
Ben had left to go and get coffee - which is probably a good thing, since Bianca was getting tired of looking at him. He’d been…way too intensely supportive, to an extent that she’d found a little smothering. But at least he’d been there. Throughout the last nine months, Bianca had been worried that he was eventually going to get sick of her shit and leave her to deal with it by herself. She’d given him no shortage of shit to get sick of. 
The epidural hasn’t quite worn off yet; Bianca has no idea what sort of state her pussy is in, and she’s not sure she wants to know. She’s sweaty and exhausted, but she feels…good. For some reason. 
Her water had broken that morning. Ben had been at work - fatherhood looming over him and in desperate need of something more secure than his old three shifts a week at TGI Fridays, he’d picked up a job doing data entry or some other boring crap in an office full of middle-aged straight women about two months ago. Apparently it had been hilarious to watch his reputation as the super fun token gay guy shatter in real time when he’d announced to his boss in front of most of his coworkers that he had to leave because his wife had just gone into labor. 
Yeah, he’d been fucking insufferable with the constant ‘you’re doing amazing’s, but he was trying his best. Bea couldn’t exactly be mad at him - he’d just put up with eight hours of her screaming bloody murder and telling everyone who came near her to go fuck themselves. And she’s pretty sure she’d been gripping his hand so tightly she came close to breaking a couple of his fingers. 
The room is quiet now. It’s bliss, compared to the chaos of the last few hours - the mad rush of doctors and nurses and blood and sweat and swearing. It’s getting dark outside, the glow of the city lights flickering through the thin curtains. There’s a plastic crib next to Bianca’s bed, with a pink label on its side. Adore Del Rio, 6lbs 3oz. 
No matter how disgusting and tiring her day has been - and it was really tiring, and really, really fucking disgusting - a sense of enormous, beautiful calm had washed over Bianca when she held her daughter for the first time. Her daughter. 
She’d never felt anything like this before, looking down at the tiny, squishy, pink bundle in her arms. She’s asleep now, wrapped in a blanket and held to Bea’s bare chest. She’s so…little, and so delicate, Bianca thinks as Adore - her fucking daughter - wriggles and murmurs, reaching up for her with one perfect, miniature hand. The delicate curls of her wispy brown hair, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest as Bianca holds her close - she can’t believe that she fucking made her. She’s so perfect, and so goddamn fucking small - and Bianca feels both blissfully zen, and absolutely ready to tear anybody who tries to take Adore away from her limb from limb. 
She’s barely been here for an hour, and Bianca loves her more than she’s ever loved anything else before. 
*****
March 18th, 2041
“Did you finish your homework last night?”
“Yes.” Adore, lacking in any semblance of enthusiasm, grunts from the kitchen table; pulling out one of her earbuds and looking at Bianca with a mix of indignation and fury.   
“Then how come I’m getting emails from the school - again - about you not turning it in?” Bianca places the last clean plate on the dishrack and turns around, leaning against the counter and drying her wet hands on the ass of her jeans. That fails to elicit any form of response from her asshole teenager, and she tries again. “Come the fuck on, Dorey- it’s like you don’t even want to graduate.”
“Maybe I don’t?” She tilts her head, shit-eating grin on her face. That was a deliberate attempt at pissing her off - Bianca has gotten pretty good in recent years at telling those apart from Adore pissing her off without meaning to, and she tries not to let it. Even if her blood is already quietly simmering. 
“Oh, you absolutely do if you wanna keep living in this house-”
“Leave her alone, Bea.” Ben laughs, sitting opposite from Adore, as he looks up from the article he’s reading on his tablet. 
He only got home from work about an hour ago - most of Bianca’s days off fall on weekdays, so she’s been at home all day, doing pretty much nothing of note until Adore got home from school. They’d had a minor screaming match about the state of Adore’s room - Bianca had threatened to withhold phone privileges and her car keys until Adore relented, threw out the fifteen water bottles she’d been accumulating on her nightstand, and hid the rest of her mess in the closet. Fuck it, good enough. 
They only seemed to either argue or ignore each other when Ben wasn’t home which was…just fucking great. It made Bianca feel totally awesome about herself. But Ben is back, order has been restored, and Bianca is cleaning up after dinner like nothing had happened. 
“Whose side are you on?” Bianca replies, faux-shocked. “Fucking traitor.” 
“Clearly mine, because I’m his favorite,” Adore smirks. You don’t know the fucking half of it, Dorey. 
Bianca isn’t saying anything, but the way that Adore is looking at her tells her that she probably still looks mad. This recurring point of tension is getting several million miles up Bianca’s ass. 
Adore’s latest thing, with her last months of high school on horizon, has been threatening not to go to college. She’d gotten her applications in by some fucking miracle, and by even further fucking miracle had been accepted for a songwriting major at some prestigious music school that Bianca couldn’t remember the name of - and was now adamant that she wasn’t going, in favour of driving around the country with the ‘band’ that her and her dumbass friends had formed last summer, playing gigs in basements and doing god-knows what else. 
Bianca feels like she knows on some level that this is all talk; of course Adore is gonna graduate and go, she’s not stupid. But she’s been in the midst of a prolonged rebellious phase since she was about thirteen. Every time they fight about it, Bianca wants to shake Adore and tell her you’re gonna fucking do this because I couldn’t, stop being fucking ungrateful - but her failed aspirations aren’t Adore’s fault. 
It just annoys her. Adore, in every possible way, has had an easier life than Bianca ever did and she struggles not to hate her for it. Her future is available to her on a silver goddamn platter, she’s looking for reasons to not take it, and for fucking what? Being cool? 
Ben, against what had seemed like all odds when they were in their twenties, had really fallen upwards from the joint error that had changed the trajectory of both of their lives. That first ‘pay the bills’ office job doing whatever-the-fuck had unlocked Ben’s secret talent for playing corporate ball, and a little less than eighteen years later he was the CFO of an LGBT charity, and making what Bianca deemed to be a fucking stupid amount of money. Enough to afford their too-nice house in a too-nice neighborhood in West LA, and Adore’s too-nice performing arts high school. 
Bianca had climbed about as far up the ladder as she’d been able to, but given that she was a college dropout with no real experience in anything else, the depressing non-failure of retail store management was about the best she could manage. It wore her down; the feeling of uselessness and guilt as she inhabited this existence that felt a million miles above her means. 
“This is insane - have you guys read about this new Cookie Heaven thing they’re trialing?” Ben looks up again, breaking the frosty silence - Bianca disinterestedly flicking through her phone, Adore disinterestedly pretending to finish her homework. “Guys?” 
Ben had been bizarrely fixated on this emergent technology for the last year or so - some shit about consciousness transfers and virtual afterlifes that Bianca didn’t understand and didn’t care to. It made her skin crawl, not that she had any idea why. Truly, the rate at which Cookies as a principle had been developed, outlawed, un-outlawed, given rights, made illegal again but only in certain situations - it felt like it dominated the news, and with every possible turn it got weirder. Their trajectory had felt like trying to find a point for something that had been invented pointlessly. Criminal justice, entertainment, smart home tech, medical advances, god knows what else - Bianca just thought they were a bit macabre. 
“Nope, don’t want to. It’s creepy.” Bianca shudders, kicking off the process of shutting him up about it before he talks about it too much and gets under her skin. “Is this like that chick who died in that AR art thing at Burning Man and got stuck in the Cloud? Because that freaked me the fuck out.”
“Why? I think it’s really nice. According to this, they’ve been successful with people who’ve been uploaded prior to death, so now they’re looking at trialing it for long-term coma patients, end-of-life care, people with Alzheimer’s - it could be really promising.”
“Absolutely not - when I die, let me rest in fucking peace.” Bianca pulls a face.  “Don't throw some gross little computer clone of me into a weird simulation and force me to live forever - it’s weird. I don’t like it." 
“Bianca, Cookies aren’t just computers-” 
“It’s messed up.”
Adore shuffles uncomfortably in her seat, pushing her earbuds in further. Bianca half-watches her, pursing her lips. 
“I think it’s sweet. It says in the article that if this trial thing works, then they’re going to look at options for letting family members visit,” Ben says a little wistfully. 
“Ah.” It takes a moment of thought, but Bianca feels like an asshole. 
“Look, I just think that if something like that had been around thirty years ago, it would have been…” he stops, not sure how to finish his sentence. Ben’s mom died when he was ten, and that tragedy has been underpinning Adore’s entire adolescence; his constant anxiety over something happening to himself or Bianca, not wanting his daughter to have to suffer through the same lifelong, unshifting grief. “Think about Adore-”
“Yeah - maybe think about me enough to not have this conversation right in fucking front of me?” Adore bolts to her feet, her hands clasped at her sides. Her eyes look moist. Bianca half-opens her mouth, trying to say something, but no words make their way out. “This is freaking me out - stop it!”
She scrubs at her eyes furiously with a balled fist, storming out of the room and letting the door swing shut behind her with a thud. 
“Dorey-” Ben calls out weakly after her. 
“What the fuck was that?” Bianca walks around the table, slumping down into the seat Adore had just been occupying. She hears Adore’s bedroom door slam from upstairs. 
“I dunno - I guess that got a little heavy? I mean, who wants to sit around and listen to their parents talking about what’s gonna happen when they die?” Ben looks uncomfortable, chewing at his bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”  
“Yeah,” Bianca replies distantly, not really listening. 
“I do mean it, though.” Ben says, leaning across the table - looking past Bianca’s folded arms and frosty expression. “If I’d had some way to still talk to my mom - even if it wasn’t fully real, even if it was just a simulation - I’d have wanted that. And I don’t think it’s fair that we should stop Adore from having that chance.”
“What, so I have to commit to being alive forever even when I don’t want to, for her benefit? I don’t think she even likes me anymore, Ben - she wouldn’t care.” Bianca sounds more morose than she wants to, but it’s true. She loves Adore, but god knows the kid is going out of her way to make that difficult. 
“Believe me, she would.” Ben looks at her a little too seriously. “I’m just saying I think we should look into it.” 
“Look into it all you want - I’m not doing it.” 
“Seriously, Bea-” Ben is looking at her with puppy eyes and it’s making her feel nauseous. “For Adore?”
There’s loud music blasting upstairs, and Bianca is wondering if it’s Adore picking up an old habit of putting her speakers on when she’s crying, so that nobody can hear her. She wants to go and check on her, but she’s glaringly aware that any interference from her is perceived as a pending attack by Adore right now - how powerless she feels hurts. Bianca looks at the floor, picking at her cuticles. 
 “Fine.”
*****
August 4th, 2042
“So, I’m sure this isn’t gonna come as a shock to you, but your dad and I got a divorce.” 
Adore’s eyes practically pop out of her head as she spits her coffee out. More of it gets on Bianca’s face than she would have liked. 
“What?” 
“I don’t think I left much room for interpretation there, Dorey,” Bianca grimaces, wiping secondhand iced latte off of her cheek with a napkin. 
“Yeah, okay, whatever. Why the fuck did you get a divorce?” Adore looks sullen. Almost angry, actually. 
Regardless of how different they’d seemed to become as she’d grown up, every so often Bianca was hit with a very, very strong reminder that Adore was her mother’s daughter. Calm and rational, per fucking usual. 
She’d debated back and forth with Ben about who should tell her. They’d been dancing around the subject since June, when Adore had first come home for summer; practically rehearsing the conversation. Eventually they’d settled on Bianca - Ben had admitted himself that Bianca’s at times abrasive directness was the way forward. Adore didn’t hold well with people pussyfooting around her, and Ben was always a little too delicate with her feelings. He’d been the ideal Good Cop to Bianca’s bad one when Adore was little - but she was nineteen now, had moved out almost a year ago, and was as close to a real adult as she was realistically ever gonna be. She needed someone to be straight with her. And, well, out of the two of them, Bianca was probably the closest thing to straight. Even after nearly twenty years of marriage. 
The split itself had been more than amicable, since years of planning had gone into it. The only slight point of contention had been, in the process of unpicking and rewriting both of their advanced directives, Ben had been pretty insistent on her keeping the part about San June-whatever-the-fuck - that weird Cookie Heaven thing which she’d hoped would just be a passing fad when Ben brought it up last spring, but had only gained more traction and more apparent success. 
She’d tried to reason with him about Adore being a grown-up now, and how she’d made it through the last year without shuffling off this mortal coil, and so their respective deaths were probably a far-future issue that they shouldn’t be so worried about right now, but it hadn’t flown. Bianca had spent long enough in lawyers’ offices debating bullshit to have any useful argument left in her. She’d thought the divorce process would be less of a nightmare since it was agreed upon by both parties prior to the fucking wedding, but apparently she’d thought wrong.
“Because we…” Bianca sighs, facepalming. Adore has tears in her eyes. Shit, she really hadn’t been expecting this. “Because he’s gay, Adore.” 
Adore’s eyes pop again. Bianca clamps a hand over her mouth before she gets a chance to cover her in overpriced coffee again. 
“Daddy’s gay?” Adore blurts out as soon as she manages to swallow. 
“Duh?” That just tumbles out of Bianca’s mouth without any real thought. “Are you really telling me that you never suspected anything?” 
“No? I thought he was just like…I dunno, really into theater. Did you just find out? Holy shit, are you okay?” Adore reaches for Bianca’s hand a little frantically. Bianca laughs, shaking her head. 
“Nope - I’ve always known. Dorey, I…” she sighs again, realizing how ridiculous this sounds. “Listen, when a gay man and a bisexual live together, and they get really, really drunk this one time…” 
“Ohmigod, you’re bi?” 
How unobservant is this fucking kid? 
“Yeah - surprise. Now you know why we were so fucking chill about it when you cut all your hair off and started begging for a pair of Doc Martens when you were twelve,” Bianca says, chuckling. 
A confused look washes over Adore’s face. “But I…you always seemed so in love.”
“We decided we were gonna get married and pretend to be normal so that we didn’t fuck you up,” Bianca shrugs. “Which clearly worked super well.” 
Adore cracks a smile. It feels good to see her smile. 
Since Adore moved out for college - miracle of fucking miracles - the rift between them that her teenage years had created seemed to fill itself in. Bianca felt closer to her; felt the warmth of her love without hesitation or denial for the first time in years. She was like a different person. Happy - blossoming into herself. She’d started posting her music on social media, and was getting enough buzz to land gigs here and there. And she hadn’t just stopped pushing Bianca away, but had started actively reaching out for her. She called her at least once every couple of days because she missed her; messaged her constantly. Just frivolous little updates about her days, or pictures of dogs that she’d seen - silly little shit. But it felt good. 
She’d worried that it wouldn’t last. But Adore had come home for summer, and as it trailed to an end, there’d been no second coming of their years-long bitch-feud. Everything had been fucking glorious. 
“Boo, you’re mean,” Adore says playfully. 
“For the record, we were good at faking being in love because we both love you,” Bianca says, reaching out to take Adore’s hand. She’s bitten off two of her acrylics again - Bianca is a little suspicious about which two exactly, and briefly debates calling her out for it. Whatever - she’s an adult, she can do what she wants. But Bianca is taking her to get a manicure once they get done oversharing in the middle of this cafe, because it looks like shit. “That’s not gonna change. But you’re probably gonna end up with stepparents.” 
Adore looks down. She’s always done this cute little smirky thing when she’s embarrassed - eyes fixed to the floor, quietly smiling to herself. Bianca loves it. 
“Are you dating anyone right now?” 
Bianca rolls her eyes. 
“We’re not dating-dating. But yeah - her name is Katya, I met her online.”
“Is she hot?”
“None of your business - she’s too old for you anyway,” Bianca shoots Adore a warning look. “Your dad was on a date last night, too - some guy called Darius, apparently it went really well. But I’m gonna look into getting his room soundproofed.” 
“Ewwww,” Adore clamps her hands over her ears, laughing. “You’re being gross. Stop being gross.” 
“Don’t ask questions you’re not prepared to hear the answer to,” Bianca grins. “Are you good now? Or do you feel like spitting coffee all over me again? I really enjoyed it that first time.” 
“Honestly? I always wondered why none of my friends’ parents had their own bedrooms,” Adore thinks out loud. Bianca shakes her head, chuckling. 
“I love you so much, you fucking moron.”
Pride Challenge Points: 10,312
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maxwell-grant · 10 months
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Sooo, thoughts on Mortal Kombat 1 ?
@jcogginsa asked: You've said Peacemaker is the DC character who fits most in Mortal Kombat, but of the three leaked guest fighters for MK1, who do you think fits it best?
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Okay, new Mortal Kombat thoughts then
Well with this and Tekken 8 I guess it didn't take long for Street Fighter to spearhead another fighting game comeback. But while Tekken 8's more on the "basically the same as it always was except there's a graphical update", Mortal Kombat is kicking things off with a, Story Mode-centric showcase with a tiny gore montage and no gameplay. Fairly unusual territory for the series, but it seems to be paying off for them in viewcount.
I'm really not a fan of how anyone looks here, though. What you see in the trailer is the fairly logical endpoint of the MK series increasingly striving for more realism and fixing little design issues like, uuh, a majority asian cast of characters who never even slightly looked asian until some 20+ fucking years into the series, y'know. And for sure the faces look great, but I do feel like we're getting those great faces and expressions at the expense of everything else in their designs becoming increasingly colorless. Like Scorpion and Sub-Zero or Kitana and Mileena, who somehow look more like palette swaps than theyve done in decades.
It's not the only issue I have with this trend but, look the clothes and the lighting and the visuals look very pretty, but this is maybe the most swagless most of these characters have ever looked and that's a capital sin. So far, they look like half-a-step removed from A.I prompt recreations of themselves, which is the harshest thing I could say about it. It's too generic.
And man I'm, reeeally not liking the Fatalities here, I feel like that's the biggest issue with the franchise moving so firmly into 3D realism, the Fatalities just plain aren't that fun anymore most of the time. Sorry to MK fans following me but I will have to be the christian parent finger-wagging at the screen and say that they actually should tone it waay the fuck down because they lost the plot that this is Mortal Kombat, not fucking Liveleak, and plenty of modern games can pull off absurd cool pop-off gore without putting us through characters writhing and screaming and gurgling in pain during rancid torture.
And no, we can't chalk this up to personal taste anymore ever since that story about MK11 devs developing PTSD because they had to look up nonstop hanging/murder/animal torture videos and photos to get the gore right, which is frankly as good an argument as any for throwing Mortal Kombat in the trash and not letting it come out until they cut that shit out for good and overhaul their entire approach to game design and tone, which they clearly have not done and will not do. It's fucked and NRS deserves way more shit for it than their playerbase is willing to give them.
Moving on, so this is like, what, the second or third reboot? I guess it's more so them following on the clean slate Aftermath was setting up but, damn these guys really do love DC Comics and the increasingly short periods between rebooting the whole thing to dodge narrative problems and only coming back to those same problems again and again.
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On the more individual character basis: Raiden looks Japanese finally, and I guess the scaling down makes sense since he's not a god anymore. Kung Lao, eh. Kitana, looks way worse than she did in MK11 (maybe I'm biased because that was like, the one time I liked how Kitana looks) and if this is a timeline reset, are they gonna undo her as Khan of Outworld? Fucking boo if they do, that was the best thing they did with her, they are cowards for walking that back if they do.
Kitana looking boring unfortunately also means Mileena isn't looking great either, although I do like the viciousness in her eyes, I like that her alignment's pretty unclear from the trailer, and I like that they're keeping the teeth from 11.
Scorpion and Sub-Zero look way too basic, and although I'm not against their increasing focus on Scorpion looking more human, I just don't like that this is making him look less Scorpion than before, he looks like a disposable Shirai Ryu grunt that reports to Scorpion before getting killed in a pre-fight cutscene.
Shang Tsung as the villain again is a fairly allright idea (if slightly redundant given Aftermath) and of course necessary if they're taking this back to the beginning, I don't mind his design (the claw gauntlets are pretty good) but I do mind that he looks less like Cary Hiroyuki Tagawa than before. I hope to be wrong here in this assumption but If they're not bringing Tagawa to voice him, if they're not basing him off Tagawa's characterization like they did for 11, why bother with Shang Tsung at all? Tagawa's performance is like 80% of Shang Tsung's entire appeal.
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I do really like Liu Kang's look though, it's a very nice, very pleasing blend of his classic ensemble with enough Raiden elements to show his new role. Is this the first time they've ever featured Liu Kang front-and-center in the ads and posters for a new MK game? Sure feels like it. Apparently one of the head writers remarked "People, Realms, Rivalries: Liu Kang has tinkered with all to achieve his vision", which is nearly always code for Bad Guy Talk. Too early to call it but, I guess it was inevitable, and if we're really doing Evil Liu Kang for the third time this is already a better baseline than the prior two takes. I don't like his face though, I really liked his MK11 face and this feels like a total downgrade (where's the eyebrows? his eyes are totally different, he looks like the doctor from that wretched surgeon meme and it makes me hate him on sight)
So far, I do really like that the trailer sticks entirely to fantasyland kung fu film vibe. The last two games were stuffed to the gills with Earthrealm military horseshit where as this feels like it's making a point of avoiding that, no gun-toting Americans in sight thankfully. Johnny Cage has been confirmed but, he can stay, he's cool. Speaking of that, Van Damne Johnny Cage, cool I guess? I don't care about Van Damne but, if they're getting action movie celebrities to be in these, getting Van Damne specifically feels like bringing things full-circle a little.
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Kameo Fighters? Oh so we're doing Smash Bros Character Reveals now? That's gonna be a fun powderkeg to just throw out there, lmao, I hope they reveal these slowly to really make the fandom spaces unusable. I guess they put Mileena upfront to avoid the worst as is. I do like Assist Characters in the VS series, I guess this is gonna be like that so, cool with me even if they wind up shelfing characters I actually want like D'Vorah and Kano.
(SPOILERS FOR THE LEAKED CHARACTERS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THOSE): Quan Chi, eh okay they were bound to bring him back sooner rather than later, so long as he's not making Shang Tsung chump out I'm okay with it. Takeda, fine. Mavado, don't give a shit. Ferra, without Torr, okay let's see how that goes.
And of course the ones everybody's talking about, Homelander and Omni-Man, who seem extremely redundant to feature together given they have basically the exact same powerset, but I can't fault NRS for jumping on the popularity of that match-up and they have Injustice Superman assets to share between the two. Homelander, couldn't care less but sure, put the meme guy in there, he fits. Omni-Man, I've been dancing around watching Invincible for months now but yeah, cool, he's pretty damn great, seems like the only fighting game you could possibly put him in, and most importantly it means J.K Simmons is joining the voice cast, which I'm of course super excited for.
Personal stand-outs for me are Tremor, who's pretty cool. Khameleon, whose design I actually like quite a bit and who I never thought would show up again, totally on board for her. Ermac, who is one of my favorite designs and who I really enjoy playing as, but the designs so far have been really underwhelming so, not sure what they're gonna do with him.
Oh yeah, PEACEMAKER's joining the roster? Never actually thought I'd happen but I'm gonna do a victory lap anyway because I fucking called it a year ago that he was the most perfect choice in the world for Mortal Kombat. Okay scratch what I said prior, in this house we allow for ONE gun-toting American in the game. And sure maybe I'm biased, but I definitely think he fits the most within Mortal Kombat, if nothing else, because Peacemaker is the one you can actually imagine pulling off a Friendship or uppercutting the same guy's head off three times, he's the only one who feels conductive to the MK series sense of humor. Omni-Man's I imagine is a very close second, being famous for pulling off Mortal Kombat fatalities in a series where that is, at least initially when it operates by seemingly standard superhero rules, uncharacteristically frightening and sadistic violence for anyone to do.
Overall: Glad that they're making an effort to push Mortal Kombat to new places, there's plenty of cool choices or ideas set up here, but there's a lot that I dislike or am ambivalent to, a lot that I wish they were doing differently, and of course the concern of "how much are the devs having to put up with this time around given these Fatalities look somehow way worse than the ones from 11" that is frankly kind of a dealbreaker for me in terms of me getting or supporting this game. I guess it's "it is what it is", but that's a shit excuse and it could, y'know, not be what it is.
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robotslenderman · 1 year
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Saw your reblog,so
Dusty!!!!!
How is the Wendy fic going?????
Any headcanons?
*shouts in distance, sounds like the echo like noise across a large playground or empty parking lot "
Nossiesss!!!!?!?
I've actually started the first read of Wendyfic!
My fic writing process basically goes like this:
First draft. Usually in dot points, tho not always. Very messy. Like think of the average first draft -- it's way worse lmao. Wendyfic's first draft is actually surprisingly neat!
Pretend it doesn't exist for at least 3 months. I went 6.
First read! This is where I take notes on themes, structure, make notes of where to insert foreshadowing, etc.
I make a summary of the story afterwards, and a summary of character arcs, themes, etc, based on these notes.
Then after that read I go through and read again, this time making a summary for each scene.
Overhaul time. I fix up the summaries I made before and make them summaries of what I want the story to be, noting which scenes have to be chopped, which have to be combined, etc etc.
Second draft. It's basically an entire rewrite, especially if the first draft was just dot points. Especially because my first drafts are usually in present tense and I need to switch everything to past -- it's just easier to completely rewrite.
Let it sit, but not for as long this time.
Polish draft.
At minimum the draft I publish is the 3rd draft, but usually it's the 4th. For really difficult chapters it's the 5th. The bolded step is where Wendyfic is right now.
And like. I know I write fic for free but I've always prided myself on trying to be as professional with my fics as I can be, making them the best they can be. I've submitted one shots that I half assed and I wasn't really proud of them even if people loved them (the Roger fic where he touches Hvare for the first time -- don't really like how I did it).
It does mean tho that I take forever to actually publish the damn thing, but I swore to myself years ago I'd never be one of those writers that half assed a long form fic and abandoned it partway through because "well shut up and be grateful you're getting it FOR FREE." I think part of dismantling capitalism means dismantling the idea that money is the only thing worth making an effort for.
But yeah!
Wendyfic's first draft is a bigger mess than the first draft of the last fic was, so she's going to need an even bigger overhaul. There's too much of her running around ordering people to do things for her, and not enough of her actually doing things and overcoming challenges.
I am nervous about publishing this one though. Wendy was a very moral person in Radio Silence, but in the sequel she's essentially discovered just how hard it is to do the right thing and it's really chipped away at her morale and her ability to stick to her principles and that's going to disappoint a lot of people who were proud of her for her "Fuck you, do the right thing" attitude in RS. She does falter in ways that are pretty big that she wouldn't have during 2004. She makes one pretty big decision I would never make in a million years, and I just know people are going to accuse me of sanctioning that decision just because I wrote about it, but I'm going to write it anyway because I like to write fucked up things and people making fucked up choices. I'm going to slap a pretty big disclaimer on the fic because of it though -- people are going to find it genuinely triggering.
I have personal experience with something similar (someone else made the same choice Wendy did) and I guess it was my way of working out how people can make the decisions they (and Wendy) do, but I'm not going to say more than that because fuck anyone who thinks I should dig up my trauma publicly to justify writing about fictional trauma in a fucked up way.
Sorry, that was vague.
As to headcanons and so on -- really hard to comment at this point lol because anything can change. I'm thinking of dividing one character into two, but then I realised that that character actually does well enough staying the way they are so I might not go through with it after all.
I will say tho:
I stopped the final draft just before the climax because I genuinely had no idea how it was going to play out, and figured I should reread and edit before I get that far. So I still have no idea how it's going to end. Hell, I didn't fully know how RS was going to end until a couple of weeks before I published it.
The Baltimore Nosferatu Primogen is a swan because the Baltimore nossies thought it was funny. Alas, he's not my invention, he is @orodrethsgeek's, but they let me borrow him!
The Vykosoviches show up and so does Sullivan, but I don't know how much of that will stay in.
Cieszmir showed up as well but he'll probably be cut out because he was pure self indulgence. Unless he shows up and does something in the climax-I-don't-know-about, because I'm quite sure his uncle will and he hasn't been in any scenes his uncle hasn't been in. If enough people yell at em to keep him lol I might
At one point Wendy gets chased by a serial killer with a chainsaw.
The Washington DC Warren is SO COOL but I won't spoil it aaaaaa
I have no idea if Cock Robin will be in this fic or not. He was in the first draft but didn't really do anything so unless I can figure out what to do with him in the next draft he'll probably be cut out entirely.
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boylikeanangel · 2 years
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(disclaimer: I am using she/her pronouns for ed in this post. this is a personal headcanon of mine and if it confuses or upsets you please do not leave a stupid comment in the notes or my askbox. love and light <3)
copied and pasted this from discord cuz it made me feel crazy writing it but actually I am thinking about the duel scene in ep6 and how once stede had lost ed looked away and waited for izzy to kill him, not because she didn't care about him dying but because to her this is like. well. from her perspective. this is the only way it could have ended. she's still at a stage where she can't dare to hope for anything better than this, she still believes that anything good she has is unsustainable and fleeting, and so of course her time with stede had to come to an end too. it's not apathy, it's resignation. she genuinely believes she couldn't even hope to have a bit more time with stede, it's just: of course this couldn't go on. of course izzy would kill him eventually. she looks away because she's trying to soften the blow of the inevitable. she resigns herself once again to a life she hates, a life alone, fully expects to look back and find stede dead, because that's how these things go. this is the way it is. and then. then she hears stede's voice. she looks back, and he's not dead. not only is he not dead but he's saved his own life through something she taught him. just like evil sows the seeds of its own destruction, love sows the seeds of its own salvation. she saved stede, she loved him and it gave him the tools he needed to keep himself alive, to keep him at her side despite the fact this isn't the way it's supposed to go. their love is literally self perpetuating, what the actual fuck ...... and like, yeah this was a duel for ed's heart just like that instagram post said, but it was also a duel for ed's soul, for her hope, for her future. in this moment she realises she can have more than the life she's resigned herself to, she can dare to love without fear of losing, good things don't always have to come to an end, the course of her life is not inevitable. she and stede can keep each other alive, and they can keep loving each other. the way that stede did not only win her heart here but changed her entire perspective on life by refusing to die. stupid, naive, pathetic stede, who was just trying to impress his friend by copying a trick she taught him in their sword fighting lessons, unwittingly overhauled absolutely everything she believed about how the world works, about how she's not allowed to keep anything good in her life. he keeps disproving that whole "we're just not those kind of people" thing over and over. god...... he has no idea that in that moment not only did he save his own life but he saved ed's too. mr darcy voice he taught her to hope, as she had scarcely allowed herself to before.....
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starry-pierrot · 9 months
Text
TF: Rise of the beasts review.
So first off I'm just gonna say this movie didn't vibe with me as much as the last one.
Don't worry ill put a cut off so I dont clog the tag.
So I just got back from watching the new Transformers movie and personally I'll have to give it a 5/10.
It wasn't the actors, they all did fine though personally I feel some scenes were lacking with Noah and Elena. It felt like there was too many people. You got the two new humans, several new autobots and now the maximals.
It was too cluttered with characters that half the time some of them didn't even get any real scenes, mostly the maximals. Sure they were in the scenes but I dont remember their names. I don't know anything about them..beyond general fan knowledge.
I feel like we didn't need 2 humans they could have easily had Noah be in the place of Elena,like he just got his new job and he's finally making his way out of the Bronx when suddenly he's thrusted into a world ending situation! Like he just got his brother Healthcare and he was doing good and now suddenly these alien mother fuckers want to eat the planet?? Would have given him a stronger motive for wanting to destory the key, losing everything when he JUST got on the right track.
I liked Elena.I liked the woman who played her but there was no reason for there to be 2 humans and I get they were sorta trying to have her be the voice of reason about destroying the key but then that goes nowhere.
Who is the plane guy? I love him but God i can't even remember a name.
Wheeljack was fucked over im sorry I hate what they did to him. Can we please stop with the nerdy stereotype of scientists? How hard is it to make a decent Wheeljack?? For fucks sake they gave him glasses!
I did like Mirage. He was fun.
Arcee was great.
And I even liked Scourge a bit.
....Bee did not have to die. Sorry it was a waste of time.
But the one thing that has this movie just out of nowhere to me....is the plot. Like why aren't we fighting Megatron? Megatron is the middle bit of the transformers lore (depending on continuity) and then we're supposed to get the big bad planet eating god! Having Unicron come in so early just seems way out of place and makes the war on cybertron trivial in comparison.
I didn't hate the move. I had fun watching it but by God does it have some issues for me. I think why the last one worked so well was because it was a much smaller story, I wasn't expecting Unicron to show up so its out of place.
Anyway it was fun but I would have overhauled the story.
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