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jqnehr · 2 days

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i told my mum about dr ratio and she called him a cad. so i wrote a drabble about it.

“I told my mother about you,” you say, quietly watching Ratio work away at the papers he was marking. You watch as he circles a big, fat ‘0’ in red in the top right hand corner of the paper, before putting it aside. He looked up at you. “And what did she say?”

You pause, dropping your gaze to the table top, unsure of how to go about this. "...She called you a cad."

Silence. No scribbling pen, not even a sound of an inhale or exhale from the man sitting in front of you. The table top is the most interesting thing you've ever laid eyes on right now. Ratio is so still, you'd think he'd have turned into one of those sculptures he made and taunted enemies with.

"...We...I haven't even...met her." For the first time in all the years you've known the man, he's utterly unable to formulate a single coherent sentence. Looking up, you see him staring at you wide-eyed, slack-jawed, and he looks devastated. "What did you say?"

"I—! Nothing! Nothing incriminating! I just told her that your life's purpose is eradicating idiocy and that you..."

Okay, I did kind of tell her that you're massively self-assured and that you walk around with an alabaster mask on all the time. But you don't want to break his heart too much. And that I hated you so much I love you.

His eyes narrow into slits. "Let me guess. You told her I throw chalk at people."

The ceiling fan's patterned movement is suddenly very fascinating.

"Aeons, woman, are you trying to get your mother to break us up?" Ratio drops his pen and stands, his hands on his hips. "I can't believe it! You probably made me sound like some lunatic that impales his students with sticks of chalk when they get a question wrong!"

"You..." kind of do. But pointing that out probably wouldn't be wise. Fumbling for something to say, you come out with, "I just told her that you need to be humbled! And that I'm...in the process of humbling you! Nothing too bad."

He rubs a hand over his face in exasperation. "Darling, please don't tell me you told her I drop a pillar on my opponent when I'm in a battle."

"I..." Yes, I did. You probably should've kept your mouth shut. And then your mother exclaimed, 'so he murders people!' and you had to scramble to explain that he kills aliens and such, not people. She didn't have a bar of it.

"Wonderful! Now she thinks I go around crushing people with columns for fun!" You had a feeling Ratio's reaction wouldn't be good. But not this bad.

"It's okay, maybe you two can meet and you'll put on your best behaviour and won't call her an idiot." You get to your feet and pat his arm comfortingly. "Treat her with respect, and she'll like you."

He actually looks like he's about to cry. "It's hopeless. Your mother probably hates me now. She called me a cad! A cad! All because you told her I hate idiocy."

"You're not going to...leave me for this, right?" Your voice is small, and you're suddenly very afraid that you really took it too far. "I'm sorry..."

"No! I'm leaving you over this. I just...need to think of a way to convince her that I don't run around stabbing people with chalk." The papers he was marking are now forgotten and he begins pacing. "What does she like? Cookies? Macarons? Apple pie?"

"My mother likes wine and cheesecake," you respond, watching him walk back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in quite the tizz. "White wine. Likes champagne, too. Um...and she loves chocolate. She'll force you to marry me if you give her chocolate."

"Perfect! Well, then, ask your mother if she is alright with meeting me, and I'll come along with gifts of champagne, cheesecake and chocolate. How about it?"

Good thing my father wasn't in the room when I smack-talked Ratio to her. It would've been much, much worse. "Uh, yeah, alright. Just beware, though, you're going to have to woo my father, as well."

Ratio gave a long-suffering sigh. "What does he like?"

And suddenly the Doctor of Idiots was running around collecting all these gifts for your parents. Perhaps it did work out for the better, since now you're sure he's desperate to stay with you.

#hsr dr ratio #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #hsr drabbles #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #star rail #honkai star rail dr ratio #dr ratio hsr #is this a self-insert? nah not really #but yes everything i wrote about my mother is real #i love her so much #she's so iconic omg #and wow 2 fics in one day im on a ROLL #and yes that dr ratio longfic is coming along. just wait a bit longer the chapter planning is almost done <3

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koolades-world · 1 day

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Hello there! hope your day is going good and if not I hope it gets better.

I was wondering if I could request a scenario (you can do headcanon format) Where Mc is in a life or death because a lower demon is about to kill them and Mc actually kills the lower demon with their own magic. how would the undatables react/comfort Mc after they killed someone because their life was in danger.

Thank you in advance if you do decide to write and make sure to stay hydrated!

hi there! i can do that :)

hope you're having a great day too <3 just drank water with a liquid iv in it so hopefully im super hydrated now haha. i've had a bit of a sore throat for the past few days now so i've been really chugging water better than i usually have which says a lot! love me my 30 oz water bottle that goes everywhere with me

enjoy!

Undatables react to Mc killing a lower demon while defending themself

Diavolo

he's very proud of you but quickly goes on high alert

you've never seen him more serious

he's doing all sorts of things such as upping security measures and looking into the background of the now deceased demon to ensure your safety and to make sure there wasn't anything more behind the attack

he makes sure to give you a huge hug and lets you know exactly how he feels <3

Barbatos

if you hadn't killed them, he would've finished the job for you

since there's no work there for him to do, he'll be taking a visit to see that demon's relatives in the near future

in the meantime, he'll help you unwind and try to take your mind off it

perhaps a tea party with all your favorite treats and little d's there, if you'd like :)

Simeon

he won't ask questions and he'll heal you no matter what

even if you didn't get very hurt, he insists you stay under his care for a little bit

you'll get the best bedside care and soup ever

let him dote on you, it'll make him feel better too knowing you're safe in his arms <3

Luke

he's immediately freaking out

what do you mean a lower demon tried to kill you!!!

100% in tears and refuses to let you out of death grip hug he has on you

the next day, he gifts you an amulet with an angelic blessing on it and asks you to carry it everywhere with you. doesn't care if that means the brothers can't get anywhere near you now. better for him that way anyways haha

Solomon

he's very impressed!

gah they grow up so fast. it felt like just yesterday he gave you the nickname of his apprentice

deep underneath his gushing, he's worried but he knows that you're capable

even goes as far as to give a few little tips for the future. love at it's finest haha

Mephisto

he's furious with himself that he even let you get in that situation

he almost feels as if he's failed you, but he tries to hold up a facade of nonchalantness

it won't take much coaxing to break down this barrier and see how upset he actually is

if you notice him being extra loving in the next week or so, try not to comment on it but accept his affections

Thirteen

she's with you as much as she can be, but she knows it's just impossible to be by your side all the time

she's angry at herself and the now dead lower demon because that window of time when she's away is never very large

but, she knows you are more than strong enough to take care of yourself if it wasn't already apparent before

she'll make excuse after excuse to be with you until she eventually just spills the beans. she really cares about you <33

Raphael

he's gonna check you at least three times over to make sure you're alright

but right after he almost scolds you, in a loving way

he tells you he should've been the one to do it and that he should've been by your side

he was just very nervous he could've lost you, but is so proud of how you stood up for yourself <3

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me thirteen #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me raphael #obey me mephisto #obey me solomon #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 1 day

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27 / 1.7k / spreading rumors about dating Gaz, part 2

⬇ nsfw; mention of revenge porn

...

Gaz doesn't negotiate. He doesn't back down. When the situation calls for it, he knows when it's time to escalate.

That's why he fucks you on your dining room table instead of a public bathroom. Partly because he's not a slag. The idea of you possibly agreeing to do it--of giving him the same ammunition you gave your ex to humiliate you--leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Even if you started rumors and risked his reputation.

A growl rises in his throat at the thought of your ex having the gall to send him that video of you. Christ. What on Earth did you see in him?

Partly, though, he wants to fuck you in your own house so that when he next sees your prat of an ex-boyfriend, he can properly rub it in that fucker's face that you invited him in on the first date.

Or maybe he'll take a picture of your panties in his teeth. He hasn't decided yet.

You're strung out with pleasure, your bare back against the table. You’re caught between wondering why he wanted to fuck you after all and letting every last reservation about it vanish into nothing. You’ve always wanted this. You never thought it would happen.

"Sergeant," you gasp out. "Is this-- what about your reputation--?"

"Don't start." His fingers trail the lines of your body, his eyes fixed on the parts of you he caught only blurry glimpses of in your ex's video. It didn't do you justice.

He wants to pretend there's nothing to this besides convenience--you did owe him. Hell, you wanted to sleep with him. You always made that crystal clear. Now he's just allowing himself to give in to baser impulses like a dog snatching up a rabbit thrown into its path.

But you're right. This will look bad if someone finds out. He should worried, but it's hard to care about that when the thing competing for his attention is the filthy way your pussy swallows him again and again, seeing how slick you leave the base of his cock.

He should've used a condom. He knows for a fact you knew he didn't and you said nothing. He'd tell you off for it now, too, but he's absolutely certain it would just make you cum. The nerve of you.

His hips stutter for a second before he can banish that thought from his mind. He shouldn't like the idea of you being that obsessed. Acting like you'd do anything he asked. Christ, work would be a nightmare if this got out. Him actually sleeping with you. But then again, he suddenly doesn't much like the idea of you finding a different rebound. You'd just be thinking of him anyway, right? Wouldn’t you?

Whatever. He’ll deal with the fallout later. When he's not enjoying your body.

“Who’s going to know?” he murmurs, eyes falling to your chest. “Let it go.”

“Mkay,” you sigh out. There's nothing more you want than to please him right now.

"You'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you." It's not a question. You both know it's true. And he likes that--he hates admitting it, but he does. His eyes drop to your pussy again, and his hips pick up their pace.

You've spent months flirting with him, teasing him about taking you to bed. Now you're getting everything you want. He's right. Why would you care one goddamn second about the consequences? “Anything.”

He hates how needy you sound when you say that. You're too trusting. He's taking advantage of you. Don't you get that?

His grip on your hips tightens, pushing into you more and more roughly. Your moans rise in pitch and he has to grit his teeth.

“Good." He says lowly. "Then you won't tell a soul about this, will you?"

"But--ah, ngh..." You bite your lip as he stops thrusting and grinds himself into you. You gyrate your hips, needing friction. "But people already think we're together."

“Do they? That’s a bold claim.” You're overestimating how many people believe silly rumors. Besides, it's hardly your concern anymore. He lays his palms flat on the table on either side of you, bracing himself. Your skin is so soft; your neck tempts him, but he restrains himself. "You're keeping your mouth shut from now on, yeah?"

You let out a sound of frustration as he slows even further. You try to push your hips harder against his. "Sergeant, please!"

"You want this, don't you?" His voice is chilled, but the heat in his eyes as he stares down at your bucking hips is hardly discouraging. "You'll want it again. You'll keep wanting it."

"Ugh, yes," you snap, squeezing your thighs fruitlessly around his toned waist.

"As long as you don't tell a soul about this, I’ll see to it that you get what you want," he growls. "Not your team, your friends, your stupid ex. No one."

You open your mouth to question him again, but he pulls away and snaps his hips hard into yours. Whatever you were about to say dissolves into a string of semi-coherent affirmations. Yes, you'll keep it quiet. Yes, you'll pretend none of this ever happened. Yes, you'll never use his name on base again. Anything he wants. Just don't stop.

"Good girl. Good girl..." Easy enough. Now that he knows how to get his way with you, you shouldn't be such a problem anymore. He can’t help but be a little greedy, though. "You're not going to fuck anyone else, either."

"Never!"

He grunts in approval. "And you'll never--and I mean never --try to get back with your ex. Understand? You'll stay away from him."

You writhe and plead, winding your arms around his shoulders. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the table, the muscles in his arms taut.

"Do. You. Understand?" His voice comes down on you like low thunder, all around you.

"Yes!"

"Good. I'll know if you do. Mm…" His breathing grows shallow. Your heat is impossibly tight, and tightening up even more. He squeezes your wrists. "You going to cum?"

"C-Can I?" you breathe out. "Please, can I cum?"

His hips stutter and he has to close his eyes for a moment. God, he's never been tested like this.

"Sergeant, please!"

"Cum," he says, the word short and sharp like gunfire. "Cum on my cock. Right now."

He presses his thumb to your clit and you wail, clenching around him like you haven't cum in weeks. Your body rolls, practically convulses, your head knocking against your dining table as you arch up. He lets out a snarl, not slowing down despite how painfully tight you squeeze him.

Once you come down from the high, his pace never slowing, your swollen core twitches and spasms with overstimulation. You cry out, but you make yourself stay in place. You want to keep making him feel good. You want to make him feel better than he ever has.

"Cum inside me," you pant out. "I-I'm on birth control. You can-- please--"

"You're a liar," he growls through clenched teeth even as he picks up his pace.

"I promise," you plead. Even if you're a liar, and you are, you're not lying about this. God, you want him to do it so bad you can feel yourself clench up again at the thought.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm when he pulls out, spilling his load across your chest and stomach instead.

You clench down on nothing, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction even as your orgasm ebbs out of reach. You let your head fall back onto the table, your breathing heavy. You don't see his eyes running over you, deliberating.

"Sergeant?"

"Mm?"

"Do you maybe want my phone number?" Almost seems like a silly question. He has your address now anyway.

"Hm." He pulls away, picking up your discarded purse from the mess of clothes on the floor. He pulls out your phone and opens your texts, types in his number, and sends himself a quick message. Then he finds your conversation with your ex-boyfriend. His eyes narrow. The last texts exchanged were earlier tonight. And you started it. You told him you were out to dinner with someone else. Just to get a rise out of your ex. It obviously worked.

That's okay, he figures, opening the menu and blocking your ex's number. If there's one person he does want to know about this, it's that arsehole. Maybe now he'll stay away from you.

You sit up. "Kyle?"

His eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. "Yeah?"

"Were you serious?"

"I was."

"Even about coming over again?"

"I mean every word I say.” He hands your phone back to you and begins to get dressed.

You watch him, grasping the edge of the table. "When will you be back?"

"My squad leaves on assignment tomorrow. Don't know how long it'll be." He zips up and grabs his t-shirt. "I'll text you."

"Right, right." You suppress a sigh. "Always got a job to do."

He slings his coat over his shoulder, then pauses. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help but reach his hand out to your cheek. He runs the back of his finger over your jawline. Then he disguises the tender gesture by gripping your chin and pulling it up so you're looking him in the eye.

"Behave," he tells you, voice low. "No sleeping around. No flirting of any kind. Is that clear?"

Your heart pounds. You swallow and nod.

"Good," he says, holding your gaze a moment longer.

As he leaves, closing the door behind him, he curses himself.

This is not a good idea. What's he trying to do, fix you? Stupid, stupid, stupid. This isn't going to end well. You're not good for him. But damn if he doesn't feel more satisfied than he has in years.

He has no choice. If he wants you to behave, he'll have to keep your eyes on him. Whether he’s on base or not.

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more Gaz / masterlist tag

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defectivehero · 2 days

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Hello! If ur requests are open, I'd love to see a villain or hero trying to break down the walls of their enemy, who's whole purpose is to be a tool. Denied everything for the sake of a single goal, a mere sacrifice, destined to die :)

this ask is so peko pekoyama & izuru kamakura coded. and i love it so much. warnings: manipulation, child abuse, graphic depictions of injury/violence/blood, dehumanization

"Ah, you're awake," the villain realizes aloud, looking at the hero. "I was hoping to get some answers from you."

The hero is silent. They look surprisingly calm, despite the situation they find themself in: bound to a chair, a blindfold secured around their eyes. They don't look unnerved, startled; there's no emotion in their expression—no modicum of energy or presence to denote them as even remotely human.

Admittedly, this hero has intrigued the villain, ever since the moment they met. The hero had moved with a mechanical precision, and the villain was surprised to find that their precision extended to every other facet of their life. There is no boundary between work and personal life for the hero—because they simply don't have a personal life. At least, that's what the villain has found. They'd love to be proven wrong at this point—would love to be proven wrong about their lingering suspicions regarding the cruelty of the local hero agency.

"What did you want to ask about?" The hero asks, as if they are the one controlling the conversation. And maybe they are. The villain blinks, thrown back into reality.

"Why are you...?" The villain tries to say. They're not quite sure how to proceed. They take a slow breath and start pacing around the hero, hoping to quell their restless energy. They are the one in control. "No. What did the agency do to you?"

"Why do you care?" The hero hums. There isn't a denial of any kind—"They didn't do anything to me" wasn't a response. The villain's stomach stews in unease.

"Answer the question," the villain demands.

"Very well," the hero answers carefully.

In hindsight, the villain should've braced themself for the answer. They were so focused on the question that they neglected to prepare themself for the nearly infinite amount of possibilities—unspeakably cruel possibilities. They're suddenly grateful that they blindfolded the hero—grateful that the hero won't be able to see their expression. Because what they say next breaks the villain’s composure.

"I was seven when it happened… My powers manifested. I didn't know how to use them. It was bound to happen."

"...What was bound to happen?" The villain hears themself say. Their voice sounds like a stranger’s.

"I was kidnapped walking home from school. One moment, there was a sharp pain on the back of my head; the next, I woke up to a glass cage and a manacle secured around my ankle."

The villain is biting the inside of their cheek so hard they can taste blood. They shouldn't be surprised, but they are.

"I didn't know where I was or what was happening. I was just a child." The hero continues. The villain wants to think that there's a trace of emotion in the hero's voice after the latter statement, but they get the feeling it's just their imagination.

"For a while, I was alone. I don't know how long. I tried to summon my powers, but they still weren't under control. I nearly killed myself in my attempt to escape.

"Then, someone visited. It was a man in a dark suit. He unlocked the cage, or manipulated it, I can't remember—and walked up to me. There was a glass of water in his hand. I was so thirsty.

"I was too young to know any different, too young to question what was clearly a kind gesture. I took a sip... My vision spiraled and I fell to the ground.

"I woke up on an operating table, with people staring down at me through advanced medical equipment. Tears were slipping down my cheeks, from the brightness of the lights above. Someone secured a mask on my face. I tried to stay awake, but I couldn't move.

"I woke up on the floor of my cage, in a pool of my own blood. There was a giant wound on my forearm, leaking pus. I dry-heaved over and over again. Nothing came up.

"I got a lot of visitors after that. It was clear that they did something to me. Suddenly, I was getting meals three times a day, books and video games to keep me busy... I must've been eight or nine years old at that point—old enough to understand that I was nothing more than a lab rat."

It takes them several moments for the villain to find their voice. "...And then?" They manage to ask. They stopped pacing minutes ago—now they're standing across from the bound hero.

"Then I was trained," the hero says. "Brought to the brink of my exhaustion over and over again, day after day. Months passed, then years... like granules of sand slipping through my fingers."

"I was soon trusted to participate in missions. I didn't know what was happening, why I was fighting who I was fighting. All I knew... was the hollowness in my chest and the commands inscribed on my mind itself."

The villain is silent. They don't trust themself to speak—they know their voice would break, betraying their thoughts.

At some point, the hero is the one to break the silence. They tilt their head to the side slightly, leveling the villain with what they can assume to be a curious gaze under the blindfold. "Why have you captured me? Do you hope to rehabilitate me?"

"It won't work," the hero says before the villain can answer. Somehow, they've ascertained that their capture was motivated by that exact desire: the wish for rehabilitation, the visceral need to do something good for someone other than themself. "They have broken me beyond repair." The hero's voice is hollow.

"Everyone can be fixed," the villain responds.

"But I am not a person. I am just a shell, an empty husk. An amalgamation of observations on human behavior, with no memories, no passions, no opinions. I don't even have a name."

Somehow, this is what breaks them. Somehow, the villain survived the onslaught of horrible information, suffered through the retelling of dehumanizing events and cruelty beyond measure. Yet this is what breaks them: the hero does not have a name. A name: a concept so simple. Even animals have names—they are ascribed names by humans. What does it say that this person has no name? They have been deemed lower than humans, lower than animals. They are merely a tool. A weapon.

The villain's thoughts are spiraling. They feel themself moving before they can stop. They robotically break the distance between the two of them, until they're standing over the hero. The hero must sense their proximity, but they do not respond—do not even flinch or move. The villain bites the inside of their cheek hard and begins untying the ropes around the hero's limbs.

"What are you doing?" The hero asks. They sound vaguely surprised. But the villain is nearly certain it’s just an act.

"Leave," the villain demands, their hands shaking ever so slightly as they finish freeing the hero. "Go."

There's a brief flicker of emotion on the hero's face—a quick flash of complete, utter confusion. It happens so fast that the villain can just barely comprehend it, can just barely grasp that the hero may, deep down, have the freedom to express genuine emotion. But as quick as it appears, the confusion is gone: smoothed over by an infuriatingly blank slate.

The villain watches the hero leave. The moment the door clicks shut, the bile on their tongue rises and they dry-heave. They cough and take deep breaths, feeling their throat burn with more than just acid. Unshed tears linger in their eyes, in the back of their throat.

Is the hero past saving? More importantly, do they even want to be saved?

The villain rubs a hand over their face and walks back to the wooden chair where the hero sat moments ago, kicking it over in a rush of pure frustration. It slides across the floor with a horrible screeching noise.

The villain is overcome with an intense desire to do something rather uncharacteristic: they want to free the hero from the agency's chains. And, hell, it's not out of a foolish desire to do something good. Not anymore. Somewhere, deep down, the villain wants the person they just spoke to—who has only known cruelty—to be given a chance to truly live.

It's ironic. The villain has been fighting heroes for years, unaware that the real evil has been under their nose this entire time. Because, while the heroes may be purveyors of justice, the nature of that "justice" is determined by the agency. It's the agency that contributes to the systemic oppression running rampant in their city, it's the agency that manufactures people and turns them into weapons.

The villain clenches their restless hands at their sides. It seems they have to make a slight change to their plans.

i can't tell if i'm happy with how this turned out or not. i feel like the ending kind of sucks, but whatever. it is what it is.

tag list: @lateuplight @wit-is-wisdom @greengableswriting @whump-me-all-night-long @noawhite @rekhyt-of-arcadia @the-blind-one-speaks @sufferfictionalcharacters @basically-psyduck @alexkolax @subval01 @emerald-blade @felicia609 @surplus-of-sarcasm @ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit @a-chaotic-gremlin @unknownogre @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @whatwhumpcomments @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @agayprince @starsick1979 @a-lonely-little-ghost @agayprince @plum-tello

click here if you’d like to be on/off the tag list!

#defectivehero #hero x villain #hero and villain #heroes and villains #superheroes and supervillains #writeblr #writing #short fic #snippet #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #etc

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pxuvalentinx · 2 hours

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Woah like imagine talking about having a family with teen kento ‼️ requesting anything on this plsplspls

a/n: i actually kinda really like this idea waowww !! i've been so slow with requests lately :') i'll get to them soon pinky promise. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST THOUGH !!! tags/warnings: obv teen pregnancy, slight angst, fluff, nanami is a sweetheart, established relationship (lmk if i forgot anything)

Teen Dad! Nanami, who at first wasn't too sure about this. He always tried to be safe with you, but I guess accidents happen. Nanami honestly thought it was a silly prank of yours at first, but when you showed him a picture of the positive pregnancy test, he lost his composure for a second.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who told you that he needed some time to think about it and really realize what's happening. Once the shock was over, he came running to you, telling you that he'd be more than happy to support you and be with you regardless of the situation. Telling you that he'll support both you and your kid to the best of his abilities.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who now would take on more missions to make some extra money to be able to support you through everything and also save up for the future. Since his plan was now to put a ring on your finger someday.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who often came home exhausted, pissed off that he had to work overtime and also that he had less time to spend with you. Regardless of that, he always made sure to get you whatever you craved, to massage you whenever your back hurt too much, and to help with chores around the house. Nanami would also take notes for both of you in class; education is important after all.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who tried to keep as calm as possible when your water broke (he was panicking on the inside). He read somewhere that panicking will only make the pregnant woman panic too. So he kept calm, calling an ambulance as he held you close, grabbing the little hospital bag you two packed together (he also read about that).

Teen Dad! Nanami, who tries his best to even support you during birth, holding your hand. Sadly, he couldn't really bring himself to watch it happen, only ever glancing over. Nanami hoped it was enough for you.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who becomes the best dad ever regardless of how young he is. He'd start taking on a bunch of chores and duties, just to let you rest.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who calls Shoko every day just to ask silly questions that should've been obvious. Shoko answers every question anyway, wanting to support you and him. Nanami always wrote everything down.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who supported your spending addiction when it came to buying toys and outfits for your little one. In the end, he couldn't deny just how adorable it looked in all of those outfits you buy.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who started looking for other jobs he could do after he graduated from high school. He knew he wouldn't be able to do Jujutsu sorcery forever.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who your little one always throws up on. It's like, as soon as he holds your little one, it just gets the urge to throw up. Gojo definitely makes fun of him for that (until he holds the little one and it also throws up on him, earning a teasing smile from Nanami).

Teen Dad! Nanami, who loves you just as much as before, not caring about any of the changes the baby or being pregnant made to your body. If you're insecure about it, he'll reassure you a lot.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who spoils you and your child as soon as he gets the chance to. When your baby grows up, he won't be able to say no to anything they ask for.

#x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami kento fluff #teen nanami #jjk x reader #jjk x you #fluff #nanami headcanons #dad nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #pregnancy #jjk cast #reqs open #writing requests

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ckret2 · 13 hours

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Bill said, "Well, that explanation should've been simple enough. Any questions?"

Stan asked, "Why are you wearing a bedsheet for a skirt."

"Because somebody—" Bill shot Soos a dark look, "grabbed all my perfectly clean clothes for laundry day, and left me with a bedsheet and one dirty t-shirt."

Soos chuckled sheepishly. "Whoops. Sorry, dude."

Mabel raised a hand.

Bill pointed at her. "Yes!"

"Are there vampires at the library?"

"Not anymore!"

"Aw."

Ford grudgingly raised a hand.

"What."

"Are squid kings real. I don't mean squid royalty, I mean—a rat king made out of squid."

"Yes. As of last summer there were seven with at least fifty giant squid, but two were negotiating a merger so it might be six by now."

"Do—do they combine voluntarily?"

"Oh, sure. In droves. It's a huge honor! The one I'm friends with says the psychic powers are totally worth the eventual zombification—they're ninety percent undead now and haven't regretted it once in five hundred years."

Ford opened his mouth, got stuck between three questions, and didn't manage to settle on one before Wendy raised a hand.

Bill's attention switched to her. "Yes!"

"Dude. Why are you standing on the TV."

Bill looked down. So he was. "This is my lecture podium."

Wendy snorted. "Okay."

"what was Bill explaining that prompted these questions?" how the memory gun works.

#bill goldilocks cipher

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tassodelmiele · 21 hours

Text

Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie ⁓

Here we are, it's finally monday and we can hope again in having a good, productive week (please let it be a sunny one too I can't hibernate in April I need my photosynthesis).

I'm wondering what do you think of this little work of mine, so if you feel like it you can write me whatever comment/question/any various and possible magical shit.

Have a good chocolaty day ⁓

DISCLAIMERS: little bit of touching and hints about sub/dom relationship! Finally my kinks are emerging! (evil laugh); Ghost-who-needs-to-make-peace-with-his-brain x Reader-who-needs-to-learn-how-to-shut-up; "How to be a psychologist without a degree" (by John Price); embarassing mission I hope does not exist in reality, but i needed it for plot's sake; little bit of wounds and scars (Doc.'s gonna tie you and Ghost up to a chair for the rest of your life); yelling and fighting and arguing (you're used to it by now).

..................................................

Fourth part here:

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«Why the hell you've let her-»

«MacTavish»

Price swallows through the smoked breath, clenching his fingers around the consumed cigar just to distract himself from the willingness to punch a wall, or the Sergeant's face.

«I've already had Ghost yelling at me for half an hour. Spare me»

«Then explain yourself, Cap.»

«I can't. I've no explanation. She'd done it by herself»

«She's no insubordinate»

«Not in that sense». He sighs. «I told her no. I knew it was too much for a rookie». He chews the extinguished cigar for a while, taking his time. «Laswell agreed. But that goddamn girl managed to convince Kate, somehow»

«How come?»

«Dunno. But she's already feeling bad enough, and she was the one who's got to rescue the girl»

«Laswell?? Ye serious?»

Price nods, eyes locked at the door in front of them. The doc entered almost one hour ago.

«And» Soap dares to ask «is Laswell…uhm…»

«She's ok» the Captain anticipates him. «Nothing broken. But the rookie…». He sighs again, scratching the bridge of his nose, pushing lightly his digits on the eyes. «I don't like soldiers wasting their lives like this. Especially good ones»

«The mission had to be done anyway»

«We could have waited for a better plan»

He takes a last chew on the cigar, spitting it on his glove before squeezing the leftover crumbles in his fist. He throws everything in a trashcan, then gazes at Soap.

«We've got shit to do, Sergeant. We'll come to check her later»

«They've done something bad to her». That wasn't really a question, even if Soap hopes to be wrong. «Am i right?»

«What came up in that bloody lil' head of yours?»

Three gunshots in your arm (the right one, 'cause luck kicks you in the ass as always), one blade wound and various bruises, just to complete the masterpiece. Doc sent you out of the bed with a promise: to try to not touch the medications.

One in particular.

You didn't even want to eat, but you need to. So breakfast has started, with chocolate scent, closed stomach and two pairs of gaze on your red face. You've tried to avoid contact with every human being in the base, but someone's got a good sense of smell for you. And you eventually end up with Soap and Gaz surrounding you with their (legitimate) questions.

You're blushing like hell, stirring oatmeal crumble in the mug with your eyes drowning into it.

«…I've thought…i could be helpful»

«You're a brave kid, but that was-»

«Stupid» Soap ends the sentence. «To say the least». He finishes his coffee in a sip, swallowing the hot liquid in a rush. «It wasn't a rookie's work, ye should've known»

You nod in embarrassment. «I did know»

«Then why?»

«'Cause…» you swallow, burying your eyes more into the mug, scratching the cuticles skin out of the nails. «…a girl was required. For the mission»

«Hold on» Gaz grabs your shoulder, lowering his voice. It was a confidential subject, not the one to speak about in a crowded dining room. But he keeps on with his curiosity anyway. «It was about weapons traffic, wasn't it?»

You nod.

«Then why a girl?»

You're about to answer, your mouth's already open even if you're not sure if filling them with a temporary lie, or just spit the truth.

Another sudden press on your shoulder takes you off from every doubt.

A big hand grabs you firmly, squeezing skin and bones underneath your uniform. Your body instantly shivers, tightening under the hold. You raise your head a little, but you know whose mask you're gonna jump into.

Ghost has the magical power to bring back the silence. He doesn't even have to speak, just a glare of his is enough. His look hits Soap and Gaz as to say: shut your bloody mouth; and they just roll their eyes at the ceiling, as to say: but we wanna know 'bout her mission, damn it.

Then he lowers on you just that tiny bit that's needed to let you feel his body heat closer, so warm against your cold limbs.

«Your presence is required» he says quickly, almost murmuring against your ear.

And here you are, walking behind his massive figure with eyes lowered on the ground, following his feet at a security distance through the base. He stops a couple of times to talk with someone, moments in which you play camouflaging with the wall; then you two reach a door, and you're so into not-seeing in front of you that you don't even look at where you are.

He closes the door behind you, and only after a few seconds of embarrassment you find the bravery to mumbling:

«W-who required me?»

«I do»

Your heart skips a beat before your ears could collect his voice and your synapsis could elaborate its meaning. That's when you suddenly raise your sight, finding him clinging on the desk while looking at you through the mask, and even if you can't see his face it's pretty clear that he's judging you. You can read it on the skull, as there's an imaginary -but very perceptible- neon writing saying: You're a bloody stupid gnome.

Voice escape through your lips automatically: «I'm sorry»

«'Bout what?» he kinda calls you out, pressing with his sternness on your pathetic whimpers.

Your eyes lower again.

«…causing trouble-»

«Just that?»

You nod. You don't wanna talk about what kinda trouble; but he does.

«Take off your shirt»

Your brain flashes a sudden error signal, allowing you to shiver and wrap your arms tight around yourself.

«…sir?»

Stupid question. You know why he's asking, the goddamn doctor had probably told him.

«Your shirt» he repeats, not moving from his place.

Two days ago, you would have started a war about this, yelling at him without regrets, brave enough to fight against your superior like two children between one small bucket.

Not now. Now you just stand in your special spot in the office, allowing your body to move just what is needed to breathe, eyes locked on the floor. You feel him growing impatient, sighing through the mask as you're disappointing him.

«'K. If that's so…»

The sentence remains hanging in the air, and in a matter of seconds, without getting aware of how fast he came toward you, his hands are on your shoulder. You instantly panic but you're too small to fight against his weight that's pushing you against the door, pinning you still with an hand on your breastbone while the other runs to your shirt's hem.

You grab his wrist in a stupid attempt at stopping him, but he lifts the shirt up in one movement, revealing bruises, a bloody bandage, and…a little scar slightly under the belly button, fresh from the oven and still shiny from some medical gel: the writing made out of fire burns on your skin in an elegant gothic style.

He stares at it, contemplating that swallowed piece of tattooed skin. Your face becomes so red you could spontaneously combust in this exact moment.

«Who made it?» he burst out, whispering harsh words.

You swallow hot air, digging your dry throat and hoping that whatever's gonna come out of your mouth will be the most sensible as possible.

«It's…it…traffic wasn't just 'bout weapons»

«Humans» he talks over immediately.

You nod your head, specifying with a swallow: «women»

«You've sneak in as a good to be sold»

«There was no other way to-»

«And they've marked you» his voice's not that high, but you're whispering enough to make it easy for him to have the upper hand on you. You become quiet, avoiding his sight, with your hands still wrapped around his wrist.

«Are you proud?»

The question wasn't expected, spitted roughly through his mouth. You clench your digits, digging in his gloves.

Then you nodd.

«Yes» the answer is a breath, warmth by your boldness and the consciousness that you've done what had to be done. And none would have taken that awareness from you. You eventually lift your sight a little, meeting his mask, letting the skull shape fill your eyes.

«Yes, I am»

You know he's looking at you as if he's got an idiot under his sight. You feel him judging, investigating your behavior, interrogating your posture. And you, trapped between a scary giant and a door, with his cold glove pressed where your belly still hurts, you dare to stare at him for one whole minute.

It seems enough: he lets you go, shaking your hands away from his wrists as he stands in all of his height against you.

«Good soldiers come home alive, little gnome»

«…it's a curious scolding from one who lives a dangerous life»

«I've already told ya: you don't know me»

«But i'm neither deaf nor blind»

«Buy a bloody mirror then». He takes two steps back, letting you breathe freely for the first time since you've entered the room. «Ya can say you see us clear, but speaking of seeing yourself…I can't say the same»

«I know me»

«It seems not»

Blood starts to rush to your brain as the embarrassment turns into a mixed spoonful of anger and bitterness. You follow him, still at security distance, toward his desk. «Why? 'Cause you've caught me touching myself once and I made one bloody moan?»

«'S not that, and we've already talked enough 'bout it» he mumbled, pretending to not pay attention as he looks through some documents on the table.

«Oh, oh sure! Now we've talked enough about it» your arms end up crossing on your chest. «after you've ripped my elbow»

«It was just a nerve»

«Judicially irrelevant»

«Shut your bloody mouth»

«Why? 'Cause you've told me s-»

«Yes»

You freeze; that was a cold, hard stone order. He's got his knuckles clenched on the table, his back's muscles are visibly breathing under the pressure of maintaining a glint of calm.

«You» he turns at you, pointing a finger at your freezed face «you are a goddamn idiot, one of the worst species. I've tried to convince myself you weren't actually so stupid but, damn god, was i right in the first place»

Guilt assaults you with a knife at your throat, for reasons you don't know. And you find your eyes lower, your spirit evaporated, your anger extinguished under his glare. You try to mutter:

«I've just done my duty-»

«You threw away your life»

«The mission had to be done, that was our last possibility to catch that damn illegal traffic» you rush, raising your voice to grow some confidence in your speech «Laswell needed a woman and i just did my damn work!»

And he almost barks back, raising stern and furious eyes at you: «than what 'bout asking someone more experienced, you bloody asshole?!»

«'Cause it was needed a woman with-!». You suddenly stop, biting your inner cheek as a last word slips, almost like a whisper, through your lips: «…inclinations»

He's left speechless for a while, standing in front of you with the finger still hanging toward your figure. You swallow; you know he's going to ask more, and that's just 'cause you can't keep your mouth shut.

As if you've called it, he spit out a terse: «Explain»

You sigh. This would be a great time to sink ten meters underground.

«I» you start gesticulating, drawing figures in the air with your hands «I am…i-»

You expect him to joke about your incapability of connecting two words together; but he remains silent, looking at you almost with curiosity. And you're forced to keep on talking.

«…I like certain things people don't usually…agree to do» you force words outside your mouth, with cheeks on fire and eyes buried on the pavement.

His conclusion wastes no time to come:

«You're a submissive»

It's not a question, it's a truth and it hits you like a brick in the face, as if he'd already understood your particular nature till the beginning. There's no need for more explanation: you know what kind of submissive he's referring to, and he evidently knows just enough about the subject to grin, just a little, under the mask.

«The target was known for his…peculiar sexual tastes». The additional clarification was not necessary, but he gives it anyway. He let out a soft chuckle, almost like he's having fun thinking about it. «I can't believe that Laswell really rely on this stupid trick»

You would really clarify how much Laswell fought against your will to volunteer for that risk, but your voice is gone under the embarrassment. Your digits are digging into cuticles again, and you're about to pretend to not exist, turn your heels and just go away.

And you don't even notice he's got closer again, till he forces your face up by roughly grabbing your cheeks in one hand.

The disappointment is palpable.

«You've run into that perv's den alone, risking yourself for a mission you knew you couldn't handle…just to satisfy your throbbing cunt?»

That hit you worse than every other thing he's thrown at you till now. Your cheeks catch fire in his hands, guilt choke air in your lungs and poisonous butterflies eat your stomach, whispering through the entrails: he's right.

But you don't want him to be right.

«I've just decided to put every weapon I've got at your service» you spit out.

His grip gets tighter. «Sure thing. And what have you gained? Apart of a saving operation that wasted everyone's time, of course»

«Mission was completed»

«We would have found another way to do it, rookie»

«But I did it» you grab his wrist, trying again to escape from his hold. «And i'm alive, so why the hell are we even talking about-»

It happens all of a sudden: he pushes you again against the door, harder and roughly enough to make your spine squeak on it. You hold a yell, and one second after you can't breathe anymore.

He holds you by your mouth, pushing on your face with his whole hand open, while the other runs down right under your belly, squeezing on your crotch like it's made of play dough.

«This is no playfield». His voice is almost a growl murmur in your ear as he lowers enough to overcome you with his bigger body. «Soldiers have morals. And dignity. Maybe 's not clear to your pretty little brain. So: watch» and he speaks slowly, growling coldness with tongue maid of sharp metal, his eyes on you with that goddamn mask supply (and you're sure you're gonna dream about his sight forever) «your. Bloody. Mouth. Kitty»

The nickname, the grip on your pants, the fact that you're breaking your personal apnea record…just burn your brain. And, in a loss of breath, trying so desperately to find a way out of that embarrassment while freezing your hormones that are already running too low on your body…

You bite him.

You sink your teeth in his glove as hard as you can, ripping off that goddamn dignity he was speaking about, letting the residual rage work as a fuel for your mouth. He suddenly jerks with a step back, catched by surprise, tearing his hands away, and to do so…he pushes with the other hand on your lower belly.

On your goddamn freshly engraved and barely healed tattoo.

On the scar the doc pleaded with you not to touch.

You spit his glove out of your mouth, yelling like your vocal chords have turn into a megaphone.

Ten minutes later, you two are waiting outside of the infirmary.

The knock on the door doesn't distract him, too focused pretending to find his paperwork attractive.

Price gets in without invitation.

«Just a word» he sits at the desk, usual hat at his place and cigar climbing from his lips «between me and you»

Ghost doesn't lift his sight.

«I've talked with doc-»

«I don't need to be scold 'bout it, if that's what ya'r here for»

Price sighs a low, maybe a little bit too paternal: «Ghost-»

«If you two» Simon raises his voice a little «believe in trusting every goddamn rookie, sending them risking their bloody neck just 'cause they've told you how good they are at shaking their ass-»

«You've already yelled about it, give my ears a rest. In any case, Laswell made the best choice in her position» Captain talks over him. «And I agree with her. We couldn't lose that opportunity, Simon»

«She didn't even managed to end the mission alone»

«But the rookie did a great job. Only problem was taking her out of that shit»

«You can't seriously call a kink exploitation one "great job"»

«She's a soldier. We're not here to babysit, risking our life 's part of our contract»

Silence.

Price starts to get nervous, feeling some mixed emotions that he really can't stand at six in the evening. He suddenly stands up, patting both hands on the desk, taking a deep breath before exhaling a long, almost exhausted:

«There's nothing bad in making friends with your allies…»

Ghost is already rushing an "i don't need friends" kinda sentence, but Price anticipates him:

«Me too, i've made friendships on the battlefield that i hope will last as long as my bones will walk on the dirt. Then, we could die together and be happy in whatever hell God'll decide to send us. But» and his "but" was final «i know what you're doing here. Stop it. It's gonna be draining, for the both of you»

Ghost spits out: «I'm doing nothin'», too rushed, then muttering: «Don't even like her»

«I don't care who you like. You can marry whoever you want, you've got my approval»

«For fuck's sake Price-»

«Wanna delete her from your eyesight? Just look straight in front of you from now on. Wanna keep an eye on her?» John raises his hands, throwing Ghost's embarrassment in the air while admitting with the most honest attitude: «Sure. Ok. I keep an eye on you all every goddamn minute of my life. She's not a princess, though. And ya'r not a bloody knight»

Silence becomes again the king in the office. Price is still fixed in his extreme openness, ready to give his Lt. the best suggestions on how-to-not end up again at the infirmary with that goddamn rookie (before the doc kills the both of them).

Then Ghost finally raises his gaze.

And Price has a bad s-.,ensation in his guts, almost like he'd said something he shouldn't have.

«Keeping…an eye on her» Simon repeats, lost in thoughts.

John nodds, hesitating before leaving the office.

..................................................

#call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod fanfic #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #ghost x reader #ghost x you #johnny soap mctavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #writing dialogues is so funny #Price is basically becoming more and more the pscyhologist of the team #Task Force 141 is a close team of gossiper #don't know if ou've already noticed but i don't know shit about miitary life #it will be something more spicy sooner or later #for now just hints about sub/dom relationship

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lovelyherruins · 3 days

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omg sometimes I forget team black ARE real people and not just mindless bots.

half the issues in hotd didnt even involve alicent, if anything they already existed before she entered the picture. antis says she should've minded her own business but then not mention Harwin, Larys, and Joffrey.

If Harwin just kept it in his pants instead of becoming the crown princess' side hoe (because that's what he is) then the whole Strong boys and arguements wouldn't have happened.

Do I have to explain Larys??

I brought Joffrey up for one reason and it's this:

it wasn't necessary but did it cause the riot that happened? no, you know what did tho? Joffrey openly talking about his and Criston's "relationships" with the people getting married. was that necessary for him to do? no it wasn't because it what world WOULD it be needed for some guy to talk to Kingsguard's secret relationship with the princess?

Those three MEN should've minded their business not alicent. when she asked Rhaenyra questions it was her job or her being a friend which leads me to :

perhaps alicent wasn't but the same thing could be said about Rhaenyra (lying on her mother's grave anyone?? just being over all Brat when Alicent TRIED to fix them??). the thing is they were both in bad situations in which they had little to no control in. Neither can be blamed for how they tried to help themselves or how they acted under pressure as KIDS. people seem to forget that alicent was also a child and always say "she was older in the books!" tell me when you ever picked up that book. the show is clearly different to the books why keep bringing up alicent's age? to justify hating her as a child.

HER PROBLEMS WAS CAUSED BY THE MEN IN HER LIFE!!!!

who forced her to go to the king's chambers and wear her mother's dress? Her dad. Who had the power to NOT marry her but did it anyway? Viserys. Who mistook her (understandable) missing of her father as a reason to kill his father and brother? fucking Larys. Who impregnated her and when she had sons, did nothing to support her or to fix the problems arising with the birth of male heirs? Viserys.

"they were friends not lovers"

friends not lovers, guys!!

friends not lovers.

of course it's never openly stated that they were in love but considering that the actors (who know the characters best) said there was an underlying romance between them and it was purposeful... you can't blame others for shipping them because as they said it was THERE.

while it was a big jump that alicent took with his words, I prefer to see what she did as less of a cunning act and more of an act of desperation. a way to avoid the incoming fighting that'll happen when the word gets out.

I'm not sure if the commenter is blaming the dance on alicent but can we for a second remember that alicent was going against her dad to bring back aegon? the council already had plans to sit aegon at the throne, alicent's misunderstandings did nothing to change that.

if rhaenyra ascending the throne wouldn't have cause a civil war, then Jace ascending it definitely would have because let's not forget being anti-bastard was not a thing Alicent created, everyone was against them.

Team black stans will call themselves feminists and say they support women's rights but when Alicent is shown to them, they scream internalized misogyny and call her a cunt. are you a feminist or do you just like seeing women agree with you and your views? to fit into the mold you made for feminism

alicent is a great example of the oppression of women in any time period and the greatest show of WHY women need feminism, and antis don't even give her grace

they uplift and praise the women who already have power and freedom and put down everyone else who doesn't have those things. that tells me more about their character and beliefs than whatever color they identify as.

#house of the dragon #alicent hightower #anti team black stans #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenicent #i cant believe im making apost before the 2nd season even starts

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cassandraevans · 2 days

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Some other grievances I've had with the 911 show. I just wanna get these out and be done with it. I wanna just sit back and love the characters without caring about the writer's choices but alas. Hopefully this will be all of my rants about this show and I'll be able to post only what I love about it from here on.

I know I've been very critical of Eddie so far and angrily so. But as much as I'm criticising him for being a very bad and careless romantic partner, i really really hope that when it comes time for him to get together with Buck, he will have learned from all his mistakes and matured and learned about his shortcomings and where they stem from and I hope he'd have worked on himself enough to not put Buck through any of the bullshit he put every one of his romantic partners through. Buck doesn't deserve that.

While I absolutely love Buck, I also have a problem with how he just kissed Lucy while being in a relationship with Taylor where everything was finally looking good, I knew from the moment Lucy was introduced and the way Buck looked at her, and the writers make him cheat on Taylor and ask her to move in as a way to deflect from that. Yes he tells her later, yes she forgives him and I was hoping they would last a little longer but no, the writers just kept her around long enough to make her do something bad to break them up, so then it wouldn't be his fault.

It's like the writers don't think cheating is that bad at all, you cheat? No worries, all forgiven, your partners love you too much to leave you over that. The question is, do the ones that cheat love their partners the same? Because when Hen cheated on Karen I was so pissed, like the lady did not deserve that, I'm glad they didn't break apart over it but still it was not a simple mistake. And then Buck cheated on Taylor and then the writers made her use a private conversation for a news story and stab Buck in the back. Like if they were going to break them up they should've done so when he cheated or let them remain together, I hate it that the writers made Taylor forgive Buck for CHEATING but Buck breaks with her over the first mistake she made in the relationship, I'm not defending Taylor's choices and I was angry at her for it, she could've gotten Buck in so much trouble which he didn't deserve but I hate it that she made one wrong choice and the relationship is over while Buck cheated and he was fine. I hate the writers for trying to dismiss cheating as no big deal.

I was also mad at Hen being all pissy when Karen was grieving the loss of her embryos and Hen had to feed Denny, and do some other things around the house that Karen usually does, I get it, Hen comes home late from her draining shift and it hurts to see that nothing's done but the that's the least you can do for your wife, not to mention one who left her opportunity to become an astronaut to raise a child with you as a family, when she's grieving the loss of your potential children, but Hen keeps complaining and gets mad at Karen for grieving instead of performing her motherly duties, like I feel like the writers of this show have a problem with women taking some time to themselves, whether it be to grieve, or go take care of your dying mother and then grieve, or having postpartum depression, the women are the villain for wanting, no, needing a break, mostly because of things they had no control over, if they deviate from their motherly/spousal duties because of any tragedy, they're not the victim but their partners are, [(I know chim tried his best and didn't deserve to suffer, but neither did Maddie. Chim's storyline after Maddie left literally made me bawl and I'm so glad they're back together, they need each other, I wish they never broke up) so I'm mostly talking about Eddie and Hen here.]

The writers just had to make it all about Hen, when Karen was grieving and staying in bed, all Hen did was complain about HAVING to do the things Karen usually does, Hen looked at it all like an inconvenience. The writers then made Hen accidentally kill that cello girl and justifiably Hen was wrecked with guilt and fear and didn't know how to handle it, can't blame Hen at all for the way she took it but I can blame the writers. Karen put aside all her heartbreak abd grief from her lost embryos and stood by Hen throughout, and I love her for it, Hen deserved Karen to be by her side at such a time, but just before that incident when Karen needed Hen to stand by her and support her emotionally, all Hen did was be impatient and basically tell Karen to wrap it up. The writers made a new emergency tragedy to make it about Hen and tossed aside Karen's grief and made her never talk about it again like it never happened. I hate the writers for that.

Again as a note, these are my opinions about the show, you're free to have your own opinions. I'm just trying to vent out my frustrations with the show on my blog. Don't come at me with your angry anonymous asks and justifications because at the end of the day it's a fictional show. I haven't spoken about what I love on this show yet that doesn't mean i hate it, I'm frustrated by some of the characters' choices because I love them. Viewers will have vastly different opinions about it, to each their own.

Do recommend similar shows to watch while we all wait for new episodes. Lone star is on my watchlist next.

#911 show #911 spoilers #911 eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #maddie buckley #chimney han #athena grant #bobby nash #christopher diaz #buck 911 #911 opinions #911 abc

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witchmd13 · 4 months

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back to being insane it haunts me that arthur doesn't recognize the de bois crest on tristan's shield when he comes back as a ghost. uther truly didn't allow him to learn even one thing about ygraine. he doesn't even know what his mother's family crest looks like.

#sorry for the tswift reference but literally #i should've asked you questions i should've asked you how to be asked you to write it down for me #because every scrap of you would be taken from me #i'm going to put my head through a wall now #ygraine de bois #arthur pendragon #merlin #tristan de bois

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jakeperalta · 3 months

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oh the joys of making a silly little poll about something that actually does not matter at all

#deleted my poll about enjoying books with unlikeable characters because it just meant that my activity was #full of 3000 people vastly overcomplicating or misunderstanding the question #so like clearly i should've given more detailed explanation from the start #but also. how would all of these people cope if they went on storygraph and were asked 'do you find the characters lovable?'#talking

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maudlintrash · 1 year

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WARNING: DO NOT CONSUME IMAGES OF CHARLES LECLERC. GAZING UPON IMAGES OF CHARLES LECLERC COULD LEAD TO INTEREST IN FORMULA 1. THIS IS FATAL.

#pipiteer #YOU'RE A REAL ONE #you never should've engaged with my content pipit #pipit you know better than to make jokes and ask questions online #LEARNING LEADS TO LOVING PIPIT #myvid #this is the full dramatized narrative of how i sniped pipit from 500 yards with the sebchal scene #and she got an infection and succumbed three months later #i love my friends!!#yes i re-edited a thing and am reposting #dont look at me #f1

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commsroom · 1 year

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you said talk to you about Eiffel so. what’s your favorite funny Eiffel line, and what’s your favorite serious one?

okay this is a difficult question because my favorite eiffel line is like, whatever one i am currently listening to and/or thinking about. i just like to hear him say things. boy will he will say things.

right now the one in my head is... the part from the space you're in where he's like, "i'm guessing you've seen 2001, you know how this goes! first it's all 'no exceptions, rules are rules' and then some hapless idiot gets hurled into the cold abyss. noooo thank you! until spacewalking is statistically the safest way to travel, i know where i'm hanging out, and it's with my two best buds: HEAT and AIR."

... which, yes, also gets sad if you think about it for a moment and consider. things that haven't happened to him yet. a lot of funny eiffel lines are also sad eiffel lines if you think about it; he's kinda just like that. but i love the way he says it. love when he says things.

some of my lasting favorite serious eiffel lines are "it's not just about surviving, it's about being able to live with ourselves after we get off this tin can" and "all day i've been going out of my way to be the single, solitary voice of... not even sanity, just decency, and all i've gotten for it is people yelling at me." that's just. so much about him.

appropriate for his birthday: one of my favorite line deliveries in the show is "i'm gonna get older... i'm gonna get older" in a matter of perspective. it's just. a particular balance of flippant response and legitimate pathos, especially considering it's his first birthday post-mayday. he's going to get older...

#wolf 359 #doug eiffel #asks #i'm going to think of a dozen more that i would rather have included the instant i post this it's just. it's an impossible question #special mention to 'with what? my raw animal magnetism?' for all the mileage i've gotten out of it #thank you for asking me i'm going insane about eiffel. ohh my god he's turning forty you know he's not handling it well #noo keeping with the theme i should've said #'without the excess o2 i'll be able to light my cigarette without lighting the air around me on fire... the way that baby jesus intended'#i knew i'd think of a better one after. that's how it is

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catchyhuh · 6 months

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i like your pfp

but on a similar topic, what's your favorite design of the lupgang?

My favorite is usually just all of the shin lupin manga designs, because I'm biased as hell, but i am a fan of fuma, cagli, and dead or alive's style as well!

ty!! it's kind of funny, initially i was weary of the dead or alive designs but (as evidenced by the icon) THEY KINDA GREW ON ME! i imagine the fucking cool as hell animation and ole helped too BUT ANYWAY!! DESIGNS! IM GOING TO PUT MY ANSWER UNDER A CUT TO BE POLITE

okay my favorite lupin design. this one is probably the hardest because i love a lot of different ones for different reasons. i would say it's not a stretch to say lupin has the most consistent design across everything, and that's even compared to a guy who's face is half covered 90% of the time. um this is very basic but every time i like, envision the guy in my head, i'm thinking about part 2. his angles are sharp enough to convey that he's up to no good, but he's got huge expressive eyes without being too cutesy either. if p3 lupin is laffy taffy than p2 lupin is like. silly putty. moldable but slightly more solid. i think it'd be easier if i talked about lup designs i DIDN'T like but that's negative and we're talking POSITIVES. so yes. part 2.

for jigen i mostly base it off of his eyes. i collect jigen eye peek frames like they're pokemon cards. and based on that alone i'm half tempted to say det conan vs lupin but then i thought, hey, that might just be because. jigen was the main highlight of those for me. there's many good eye peeks so i have to observe all my collected studies. and then i went through everything and decided yeah this is probably still my favorite jigen. the insanely fluffy hair combined with the twice as spiky beard probably doesn't hurt in just creating a fun design either yknow

god picking one specific fujiko is ALSO going to be difficult because they literally just invent a completely new insanely beautiful woman every time. which is kinda the point but ANYWAY there's so many and i'm thinking like OH I LIKE THAT FUJIKO but only cuz of her hair. I LIKE THAT FUJIKO but i think it's just because this dress is pretty. stuff like that. so i went through my whole excessive catalog of screenshots and i think my answer is operation return the treasure. aside from just being a nice, if standard, design, i like the way she doesn't have drawn in pupils at some points, which is very small and subtle but kind of like. a visual shorthand to tell you something is Wrong with this woman and i love that! but my final answer is. so strange. it's this figure. this figure is THE fujiko to me. the sick as hell outfit, the charm, the way her smile is equal parts standard fujiko flirtiness but also looks like she's sincerely just in a happy mood. this fujiko ROCKS

goemon's design in princess of the breeze was kinda cute, like the middle point between his old look and the p4/p5 shorter haircut, and i also LOVE fuma but that's just because it's the quintessential goemon experience. i think my FAVORITE favorite is hemingway papers. he's so pretty but still Shaped and solid. a good balance of cool and mysterious but also silly enough to get in on the fun. plus he makes this face and that kinda automatically makes him the best

ok god help me i've been talking way too much about tokyo crisis i'm not going to talk about tokyo crisis. by this point as i'm writing this i've spent multiple hours going through all of the shit i've seen and making a mental list of all the best parts of each design and i've determined you can use the same basic design thirty times but it will FEEL different based on how you let their personality come through. so. because i'm forcing myself out of tokyo crisis mode. i think episode 0 is an ehh level special (with way too muted colors i should add) with a LETS GO!!! level zenigata. look at this guy! final answer: this guy.

#sorry this took a lot longer than such a simple question should've taken #i just have a LOTTA OPINIONS ON THESE GUYS AND HOW YOU CAN CONVEY A LOT OF INFO ABT THEM JUST AT A GLANCE!!#i initially was tempted to use this to talk about my favorite outfits they've worn too but no. too different. ill keep it concise. ish.#lupinions #asks

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