#it’s just like. I need to watch the scenes again and study it because despite short screen time you can feel how well they know each other

[igotanidea]

Despite everything: Damian Wayne x reader

part 1 : Family rules

part 2: A moment of weakness

***

Damian Wayne was not the one to get scared easily.

Of course not. He was Robin, after all, fighting crime alongside Batman nearly every night, beating the shit out of the villains that dreaded at the sound of his name (as for the last part, that was more like something he wanted to believe rather than truth).

But when across the school corridor he noticed Y/N, with her face flushed (prettily though he quickly discarded that thought), eyes gleaming and walking towards him like an enraged bull, he shuddered involuntarily. His older brother(s) had enough experience with girls to give him countless advice on the girls, but there was only one Damian actually listened to.

Do not mess with a girl. Furious woman is more dangerous than all Gotham’s criminals combined.

And as for now, it seemed like he was going to experience that first-handed.

Or not-

Given the fact that before she could reach him, the school principal appeared out of thin air grabbing her shoulder and guiding Y/N towards his office, not giving her the slightest chance to slap Damian’s face or tear all his hair out. All she was capable of doing, evading the watchful gaze of the most important school official was send him a murderous glance, to which he responded with a vengeful smirk and a shrug of shoulders enraging her even more.

“Mr. Wayne!” the principal turned around following the girl’s gaze and spotting his second least favorite student. From the get go he knew Y/N Y/L/N and Damian Wayne would be giving him constant headaches and causing troubles. Maybe it was a mistake on his part to accept them to the same class. “You’ll come with us as well.”

“I refuse to be in the same school as this *** let alone the same room!”

“Miss Y/L/N! Control your language or I’ll put you in detention!” the head teacher tried to put the situation to order, failing spectacularly as nearly every student was now recording the event.

“Exactly, Y/N. I don’t understand the sudden rage of emotions in you, you are acting so irrational and erratic.” Damian smirked, once again feeling the need to take control over the situation. “you need to calm down.”

“You little prick!” now she almost threw herself at him, not caring about the comments or making a scene. He was going to pay for everything he did.

“ENOUGH!” the principal yelled. In his own opinion, the tone and volume of voice made the glass in the windows shake but in reality no one cared about the outburst. The corridor  did not go quiet as expected, students did not put down their phones and Damian and Y/N did not freeze in the middle of their respective movements with shock written all over their faces. The principal sighed in the sense of ignominious failure. ‘You.” He pointed at Y/N “and you” he gave Damian a look “with me. Now. And I don’t want to hear a word.” He hissed.

“Couldn’t you have just asked?” Y/N raised an eyebrow

“Really, Sir, given your position, you should have developed better self-control.”

They exchanged glances (that were calm and friendly at first before quickly giving way to the hateful and threatening ones) and followed the principal to his den, officially known as study.

If only they knew what was going on inside each other head.

If only she knew, that under all that pose and cold exterior he was actually feeling a little guilty of getting her into this mess and getting the sudden urge to become even colder to not let her get burned even more due to becoming too attached. All because he didn’t regret the kiss they shared and actually wanted more.

If only he knew that below all that enragement, she actually felt like crying her heart out letting out all the unfairness and showing how hurt she felt because of what he did (allegedly), begging for an explanation like a broken, pathetic child.  All because she didn’t regret the kiss they shared and actually wanted more.

***

“This is simply outrageous behavior! Gotham Academy has always pride itself of raising its student in the understanding of social norms and rules of decency. And you two have now put that reputation to harm.”

“Harm?” she scoffed “this is Gotham’s school. What kind of reputation are we talking about here? Last week, we had to evacuate the classrooms because of the sudden leak of fear gas.” She put the fingers in the air mocking the quote that was used in an official statement “we have zero reputation.”

“Well- um…”

“Yes, precisely. And what kind of indecency do you have in your mind, sir?” Damian smirked “this was all a pose for the press, just to gather the attention to my father’s event. Besides, are you suggesting that it was more than just a kiss, prey tell something forbidden amongst teenagers?”he mocked.

“Well- um…”

“I cannot quite comprehend why exactly are we here.” She continued, crossing arms over her chest and leaning back on the chair with a daring face expression “Do you, Wayne?”

“Not in the slightest Y/L/N.”

“You two are-“

“We are what exactly?”

“Well… um-“

“Not to be mean but I think there’s nothing you can accuse as of” she smirked, feeling the surge of victory.

“Your behavior actually make me think it’s kind of convenient to you to bring attention to your two students, isn’t it. Sir?” Damian made the same action as Y/N and neither of them realized how similar it made them look.

“So, what kind of punishment will you impose upon us? Breaking wheel?”

“Don’t be stupid, y/l/n. I’m sure it’ll be nothing less than cangue.”

“Maybe gag to stop the flow of those meaningless words out of your mouth.”

“I’ll suggest burning on the pile for you witch.”

“Asshole.”

“Dumbass.”

They both smirked again their faces full of vengeance and then their eyes landed back on the face of the principal who seemed distressed and kind of desperate, not sure how to get out of this situation while keeping his face.

“So, sir?” she smiled innocently “what shall we expect as a punishment?”

“Do not keep us in the dark sir, we will gladly submit. Just try to think what my father might do if he finds out? Stop funding the school maybe?”

“Oh my God, you had to use the wealth argument! Low blow Wayne!” she rolled her eyes “maybe my father will stop organizing the students’ internship then huh?”

“I thought you were going bankrupt?” he mocked

“Will you shut up! Take your money and choke on them!”

They both rose from their feet standing mere inches from one another, threating to wage a war if the other did as much as blink in the wrong way.

“I hate you!”

“I hate you more!”

“You arrogant, selfish, ignorant, conceited prick!”

“You reckless, emotional, distracting, competitive freak!”

“GET THE HELL OUT OF MY FACE!” the principal finally reached the limits of his patience towards those two. It was impossible to fight two students, who were this dead set on making his life a living hell. And the truth was, that he couldn’t actually hold the kiss and the press against them. He had no legal or factual ground to interfere with students’ private life and if he did, either Y/N and Damian or worse – their fathers – or the worst -their lawyers would gladly remind him of that.

All there was left, was to hope that Wayne and F/L/N would have a talk with both of them respectively about fraternizing with the enemy.

“Get back to class. I can’t stand your faces, but I swear if something like that happens again –”

They were gone before the principal could even finish the sentence, showing him exactly how little respect he held in the school.

***

“that was fun.” She laughed wholeheartedly, for a second forgetting about all the negative feelings she was holding towards him after all the press incident and actually send him such a bright smile that made his legs tremble a little bit.

“I guess we played him well enough, huh?”

“I don’t think he was the only one who got played here.” she muttered picking up the pace not wanting to see, hear or think about Damian. All she wished was to go back to how things were before the gala, the photos, the press.

But he didn’t let her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around so she was facing him again.

“Let me go…” she said, but it came out weaker than expected

“I didn’t do it Y/L/N. I didn’t leak the photos.”

“Are you explaining yourself to me now?”

“You wish.”

“Then just let be me!” her voice echoed through the empty corridor and the door to the right creaked slightly. However before the teacher could spot the source of the noice Damian dragged her to the empty classroom putting a hand to her mouth.

“Will you shut up?!”

“Get your dirty hands of me!” she barely stopped herself from biting his hand.

“You are insane.”

“Huh! You think you’re normal with all that snooty, all-mighty behavior? We’re seventeen! We’re teenagers!”

“And that exclude restraints? Look-” he sighed running fingers through his hair. “You’re mad because now the whole school is abuzz with rumors, I get it, but I’m a part of it too. And I’m telling you I didn’t leak those photos! Think rationally – why would I want to be on tongues? Especially given the fact that it was you I kissed.”

The way he said it, like some sort of insult made her heart break. Not because she cared about Damian Wayne, obviously, but because he actually joined talking shit about her.

“I guess we both made a mistake then.” She hissed “we should get back to class.”

“No, wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” Damian muttered looking down, quite ashamed that even after years of leaving the League of Assassins’ and being raised by his father he still couldn’t quite comprehend basic human interactions sometimes.

“Then how?” she looked into his eyes.

And there it was again. The same wave of emotions he felt at the gala when he was holding her to his chest. The same feelings that coursed through his body when he kissed her away from the main event. He couldn’t quite decipher what it was, but that little voice inside his head (that sounded awfully like Grayson’s) was screaming at him to clear this thing out. To not let her go feeling like he just dismissed her, having zero regards towards her.

And it was weird. And right.

Weirdly right.

With heart almost beating out of his chest, feeling the air almost crackle with electricity, breath heavy and mind fogged he leaned slightly forward, not being fully in control of his actions. Forgetting the fact that they were in school and that they were supposed to be enemies. They were hostile for long enough and he was done.

For the first time in his young life he actually wanted someone to like him for him. Not because he was family (even if adopted), a relative of sort or a useful sidekick vigilante.

For the first time he felt the need to be needed as a human being, as a boy. He wanted her to give him that smile she did a few minutes ago when they left the principal’s office. He wanted to see her eyes shine the way they did at the gala, to feel her hug him and hold him as if she was feeling safe with him.

Despite everything.

So he leaned forward.

Slowly, hesitantly, not sure what to expect but ready for everything, gauging her reaction. Giving her time and space to back out, to run away, to call him names – unlike the way he was behaving in his Robin uniform.

She was not a villain.

She was –

Someone important.

And when she met him halfway, he melted.

Grabbing her tighter and letting the whole world disappear, focusing solely on that warmth he lacked through his entire life. Her scent, her hair tickling his face, her hand on his cheek.

So good. So right. So nice.

So terrifying.

Damian Wayne was --

***

--in love.

@gabriiiiiiii @6000-fandoms @jinviktor @atadoddinnit @celestair

#damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #robin x you #robin x y/n #damian wayne fluff #batfamily x reader #damian wayne angst

[lonely-cowboy]

breaking point

pairing: connor (rk800) x gn!reader

summary: to prove which of you is the better detective, you and connor like to play a little game. this time around, connor is more determined than ever to reach your breaking point.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: nothing but wildly ooc connor, it’s just them yapping away and being arrogant lil assholes

author's note: do i like this? not at all. am i gonna blame it on the fact it's 1am? sure. i just wanted to write smth ok, leave me alone

masterlist ⟡ requests

The best days at the precinct were the ones with no work. No crime scenes to investigate, no files to sort, no nothing. But they weren’t your favorite because you hated your job and the workload (quite the opposite, actually). No, they were your favorite because you could have some alone time with Connor, playing the little game you always did. 

As head forensic psychologist, you were primarily tasked with interviewing suspects and analyzing their reactions. Your job got a lot harder when Connor joined the department, making your job look so much easier than it actually was.

Rather than view him as your rival, you viewed Connor as a challenge. You wanted to prove (to yourself more than anyone else) that you were just as good at your job as any android. Besides, you respected Connor’s interrogation process far too much to hate him. Or rather, you liked watching him during his interrogation process. Really, you just liked watching him in general.

When there was no work and the precinct was nearly empty, you and Connor were allowed to take over the interrogation room. You would sit across from each other, doing everything you could to make the other break in a mock interrogation.

It was there that you found yourself, hands neatly clasped atop the table and brow raised in arrogant curiosity. Connor stood opposite you with his palms pressed against the table, scrutinizing you with narrowed eyes. His eyes scanned over you as he tilted his head in that annoyingly endearing way before pulling back and rubbing his hands together in thought.

“Do you believe Lieutenant Anderson is a good mentor?” Connor asked.

The two of you always asked each other meaningless questions, doing your best to refrain from answering or to successfully lie to the other. At this question, you remained silent for a moment longer than you should have. 

“Yes,” you replied simply, offering a nonchalant shrug in an attempt to throw Connor off.

“You’re lying,” he accused immediately.

“I would never,” you retorted. “I’m offended you would think so.”

Connor ceased his questioning to eye you suspiciously. His eyes trailed over your body for any indication of discomfort or nervousness. You hoped he wouldn’t find any.

“The brevity of your response and lack of natural movement suggest you’re lying,” Connor said as he studied you again. “You believe you’d be a better mentor than Lieutenant Anderson, don’t you?”

“In some aspects, yes,” you answered truthfully. After all, to lie properly was to occasionally tell the truth.

Connor nodded along with your response, noting the way you remained unaffected despite being caught in a lie. He would need to do something more to break you, something that would make you sweat.

Your gaze followed Connor as he started to pace the length of the room. Your attention was drawn to his LED as it flashed quickly between colors. Blue. Yellow. Red. Red? Yellow.

The occasional bright red made your brows furrow. Was he really that stumped? He couldn’t think of a single way to break you? You doubted it. Something else must have been on his mind, your thoughts racing at what could have him so conflicted.

“Connor,” you whispered hesitantly.

The sound of his name seemed to snap him back to attention. Connor immediately stopped pacing and fixed you with a steady gaze as if he had come to a decision. With careful steps, Connor rounded the table to stand beside you. He leaned against the table and looked down at you with his arms crossed confidently.

“You’re hard to break, aren’t you?” he murmured.

The crease between your brows deepened as your confusion grew. You were puzzled by Connor’s sudden proximity and the low tone of his voice.

“Well, I… I guess it’s part of the job,” you said softly.

Connor nodded and agreed simply, “Truth.”

Another beat of silence passed as Connor did nothing but watch you. His eyes flitted about your figure, though it seemed as though he wasn’t analyzing you this time around. It was like he was looking at you just to look at you.

“Do you find enjoyment in our little game? In successfully lying to me?” Connor inquired.

You were hesitant to answer, your confusion outweighing any thought. When you did speak, your voice cracked slightly when you answered, “Yes.”

“Do you find enjoyment in other ways from our game?” he continued.

“No.”

“Lie.”

You couldn’t help but stare at Connor. You wanted to tear your gaze away from his desperately, but there was something so appealing about the hardness of his typically gentle eyes. 

When you didn’t answer, Connor raised his brows and leaned forward expectantly. The intensity of his gaze made you suddenly nervous, your heart racing as you moved to fidget with your hands.

“I need a truthful answer, Detective,” Connor stated firmly.

He knew the answer. He knew you were lying. He just wanted you to say it. There was no point in denying anything now.

“Yes.”

Connor hummed and finally pulled his gaze away from you, allowing you to sigh in relief. There was something in his eyes that made you… inexplicably anxious. 

“Can you elaborate?” Connor prodded after a moment.

“I can,” you replied quietly. “But I don’t want to.”

At your refusal, Connor’s attention snapped back to you, the crinkle in his brow suggesting his mild surprise.

“Why is that, Detective?” he urged. When he got no response, only your steady gaze locked with his, he continued. “Are you worried it may incriminate you?”

“No,” you replied calmly. 

Admittedly, you were very proud of yourself for keeping such an unperturbed composure. Your face remained tranquil and your voice confident. But your external composure meant nothing, not when it was Connor interrogating you. He could detect your pounding heart and uneven breaths with ease. You bet he could even sense the claminess of your palms.

“Lie.”

You weren’t entirely sure why you even attempted to lie anymore. Connor was a walking polygraph, he could see through any of your lies no matter how believable they were.

But being as stubborn as you were, you refused to admit that Connor was right. Instead, you sucked in a slow breath and pressed your lips in a thin line, eyes locked on Connor the entire time. Your stubbornness made him frown, though you knew it was a quality he had always admired.

“Fine. If you won’t tell me yourself then I’ll just have to guess,” Connor shrugged with mock defeat. He pretended to think for a moment, lips pursed in a way that made your eyes dart to his mouth. “Is it because you find superiority in besting me?”

Connor started tame. Anyone would feel superior after besting an android, he was well aware of that. And you knew he was aware. What was he trying to get at?

“Yes, partially,” you said, cursing yourself for admitting that it was only part of the reason you found your mock interrogations so enjoyable.

Connor seemed unphased by your answer as if he already knew there was more to your enjoyment. He sat in quiet deliberation again, though he had already settled on his next question. 

“Is it because you’re attracted to me?” Connor questioned innocently.

Connor was smart, you knew this. You knew this and still thought that maybe– just maybe— he wouldn’t be able to guess correctly.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing away from Connor, knowing that it only made you look more suspicious. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes focused on the wall in front of you. 

“Detective?” Connor pressed as he waited patiently for an answer.

You startled at the light touch of his hand on your chin as he slowly turned you back to him. He kept a gentle but firm grip on your chin, looking down at you questioningly. The feeling of his skin against yours didn’t help at all. It only worked to accelerate your heartbeat, which Connor immediately took note of.

“Your heart rate has increased by 32%, Detective,” Connor observed. “An increased and irregular heart rate is typically a sign of nervousness. Are you nervous?”

“You know the answer,” you mumbled.

“You’re right, I do,” he confessed easily. “But I want to hear it from you; are you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Because I was correct in assuming you’re attracted to me?”

You inhaled slowly, working up the nerve to answer. But there was no point, you both knew your answer. He knew. You knew. It felt like everyone in the precinct– everyone in the world– knew.

“Yes…”

The corner of Connor’s lips quirked into a satisfied smirk having successfully broken his most stubborn participant. He slowly pulled his hand away from your chin, resting it flat against the tabletop. His arrogance sparked something inside you, compelling you to act unnaturally bold.

“Fine, you win,” you grunted, rising from your seat. “Congratulations.”

Without much thought, you reached for Connor’s tie and yanked him into you, smashing your lips against his. Your hand was tight around his tie, your nerves seeping into your grip. You pulled away sharply, only allowing him a quick kiss before your nerves could fully return. You released his tie and gently pushed his chest to put some distance between the two of you. 

“There’s your prize,” you hissed, though you both knew there was nothing menacing behind your tone.

It was Connor’s turn to feel flustered, finally. His cheeks were coated with a faint blush, his eyes wide and utterly perplexed. His lips were still parted slightly like he was savoring the feeling of your lips against his. Unease boiled in your chest the longer Connor did nothing.

But the look in his eyes settled any feelings of insecurity. He looked entirely infatuated with you. And when he spoke again, that infatuation only made itself clearer. 

“If this is my prize, I’ll have to win more often.”

#detroit become human #connor x reader #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh connor #connor rk800

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hello I don’t know if you’re currently taking requests but let me tell you. I need more about Milo. If you can. Like he became possessive with reader, jealous of everyone near her.

Milo X Reader: You belong to me

Warnings: Fighting, bar fight, bone breaking, drunk men, sleazy men, smut, dirty talk, dom x sub (kind of), dom Milo, possessive Milo, ass bitting, fingering, making out, penetration ( p in v), unprotected sex, pet names.

Word count: 3K

He's staring again, he knows he is. He also knows he shouldn't but he can't help it. Not when you look like that. You're at the edge of the bar sipping a drink Milo can't quite recognize. He's known you for years but he never noticed what your go to drink was. Perhaps it was because he had been too occupied pretending the pain in his leg wasn't killing him to care or maybe it was because it didn't really matter. He would never be the one to approach you, your favorite drink in hand as he flirted his way into your heart. You'd never made him feel undesirable. He didn't believe you had it in you to make someone feel something like that but you didn't have to, his brain did the work for you. Self loathing does wonders to one's confidence. 

Milo has been watching you for a little while now. You hadn't invited him to the bar. It had been a coincidence. He'd sauntered into the pub, his mind set on finding a pretty thing to take home. He needed to test the waters of his new powers and he wanted company to do it. A special kind of company. He had expected to find someone random, anyone who peaked his interest enough. He wasn't expecting to see you, in fact, it was the last thing he expected but he would be lying if the sight of you didn't ignite something inside him. 

He still hadn't worked up the courage to walk over. This would be the first you saw him like this. The first time he'd talked to you since the "change". It thrilled him but it also scared him. He wondered how you would react. Would you just stare or would you scream at him for his irresponsible actions? He wouldn't be able to take the look of disappointment on your face. He remembered when you first found out about Michele's unorthodox studies. You didn't  speak to the doctor for a week which to some may seem like a small amount of time but that's because they had never met you. They had never had the pleasure of being around you long enough to feel the radiant energy that seeped from you. His fear of your opinion glued him to his spot but it didn't stop him from admiring you. Milo had almost accepted the fact that, despite wanting with all his heart to whisk you away from this dingy bar, you'd probably go home alone. It wasn't until a man approached you that Milos mind changed. He watched the man stumble towards you with a drunken smile on his face. You shuffled slowly to the side trying to put a small distance between the two of you. Milos' hands clenched at his side, his features turning into a scowl as he watched the scene before him. He saw you let out an uncomfortable laugh before shaking your head in a polite no. Milo noticed the way the man's body language shifted at your actions radiating a sort of dangerous energy. Milo didn't like it at all. Before his mind could compute what he was doing his body moved in your direction, his legs moving in steady steps. Milo had gotten to you just as the man had reached out to grab your arm, his body working as a barrier between you and the man. You glanced up at Milo with a look of visible confusion on your face.

“There you are darling. Was wondering where you'd gone.”

“Milo…”

His name left your lips in a breathy whisper sending a chill down his spine.

“Hey asshole we were talking.”

“You know this guy?”

You shook your head timidly, your body moving closer to Milos as you searched for safety. Milo placed his hand on your arm before turning to look at the other man.

“You heard the lady. She doesn't feel like talking to you.”

“That is not what she said.”

“Yeah because she's too polite for that. Luckily for her i’m not, so i'll say what she’s really thinking.”

Milo paused for a moment, his ears picking up on the beating of your heart. It was a bit slower than it had been when he arrived but it was still faster than it should be. The heartbeat of someone who was afraid. The noise seemed to snap something inside Milo's brain, a sudden feeling of rage coming over him.

“Fuck off.”

You let out a small gasp at Milo's words, your fingers digging into his forearm. 

“Milo leave it, let's get out of here.”

He hated the way your voice shook as you spoke. He hated the fact that this man had gotten to you. He wanted to rip this neck open in front of this entire bar. He wanted to show them all that you were under his protection and that anyone that messed with you would have to deal with him. But the way you clung to him brought him out of his rage filled daze. He turned to look at you, his hands moving to push a stray hair behind your ear.

“Okay darling, if that's what you want.”

With one meaningful glance at the man Milo turned around, placing his hands on your hips as he guided you away from the bar and towards the door. You’d barely made it five steps when Milo felt something wet on his shoulder. He heard your scream of his name followed by the sound of glass shards falling to the ground. Milo didn’t give himself enough time to think before he pushed you away, his body turning around to face his attacker just as the man prepared himself to land a punch on Milo's face. His fist came in contact with Milo's body but not in the way he’d wanted it to. Instead of knocking into Milos cheek the man's hand found its way into Milos open palm, his eyes widening in fear as he made eye contact with the vampire. Milo twisted the man's arm, cracking the bone with ease. You watched with wide eyes as Milo tugged the man against his chest and whispered something in his ear before shoving him away. The man stumbled to the  ground using his unharmed hand to drag himself away from Milo in fear. Milo turned towards you, one hand pushing his hair back as the other reached for your arm. You let Milo drag you away from the bar, your legs moving quickly in order to keep up with his long strides. It was only then that you noticed he was walking without difficulty and without a cane. You stopped walking, your body freezing in the middle of the sidewalk causing Milo to stop as well. He turned to look at you, the anger in his features slipping away as he saw the fear on your face.

“Milo how are you…how did you-”

“It doesn't matter.”

“How the fuck can you say that? You just broke that guys like it was made of fucking paper!”

You glanced down at his legs.

“And you're walking like it's no problem.”

“What a big deal? People do that everyday.”

“Well you're not like most people Milo! You’re-

“What? A sick man? A weakling? A good for-”

“Stop it! I’d never call you any of that and you know it you jerk!”

You turned your face away from Milo, your hands going to wipe away the tears that had started to fall from your eyes. Milos' shoulders sagged at the sight. You just been through hell and here he was yelling at you like you were in the wrong. He called out your name, making you turn to look at him. Your lip shook slightly, making you bite on it in an attempt to look strong.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Please forgive me.”

He opened his arms to you with a silent request for a hug. You waited for a second before letting your body collide into Milos. He pulled you as close as he possibly could, burying his face into your hair. He listened as your heartbeat calmed down, a small sigh leaving your lips.

“Thank you.”

“Gotta be able to protect what’s mine.”

The words left Milos' lips with little effort. It wasn't until he felt your body tense that he noticed what he had said. He waited in silence, trying to see how you’d react. You shifted against him, lifting your head so you could look into his eyes. When you met his gaze and  saw the primal like expression in them your breath caught in your throat. You had no idea what had happened to him. Even though he looked the same as he always had there was something different about the way he looked at you. He looked at you like he was a lion and you were a juicy piece of meat. And though it startled you it also sent a thrill down your spine.

“What’s yours hum?” 

Your hand trailed down Milos chest fingers running over the clothes ridges of his abs.

“Yes…”

“And what do you do with what’s yours?”

He couldn't take it anymore. Not with the way your body felt warm against him and the way you bit your lips as you spoke. Milos lips crashed into yours, his hands tangling into your hair as he kissed you. You let him grab onto your body, a small moan leaving your lips when he gives your ass a squeeze. He loved the sounds you made as his hands moved against you. You break the kiss, the need for air getting to you. Milos hands don’t leave your frame, his fingers digging into your hips as he rests his forehead against your.

“Take me to your house.”

“With fucking pleasure darling.” 

You’ve been inside Milo's house a thousand times and you knew the layout like the palm of your hand. Even so you managed to walk into the wrong room. You blamed Milo. The way he tugged at your body in desperation left your brain dizzy. You glanced around the room, eyes falling on the desk in the corner.

“This isn’t your bedroom.”

Milo raised his head, detaching his lips from your neck. 

“You’re right it's not. But this works.”

“There isn't a bed Milo.”

“Oh darling, who said we need a bed?”

A smirk spread across Milo's face as he watched your eyes widen before glancing to look at the desk once more.

“Well what are you waiting for? Get over there.”

“You want me on your desk?”

“I was thinking more like over my desk but on works too.”

You rubbed tights together at the sound of Milo's voice. You weren’t used to seeing this side of him. He was usually quiet and slightly melancholic. The man in front of you wasn’t like that at all. The man in front of you was demanding and sexy. You'd be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

“I thought I gave you an order darling.”

Milos hand wrapped around your throat squeezing lightly as he leaned down to give your lips a quick peak.

“Get over there. Now.”

“Yes sir.”

You turned around a yelp leaving your lips when you felt Milos hand come in contact with your ass in a rough slap.

“That's my good girl.”

“All yours sir.”

Milo licked his lips making his way to you. He watched as you hopped onto his desk, spreading your legs so that he could see your underwear. A moan left Milos lips as his eyes caught a look at the lace you wore.

“Planning on getting fucked tonight?”

“I was actually. Just wasn’t expecting it to be by you.”

Milos smile drops at your words. He leans in closer, placing his arms beside each of your thighs, caging you with his body. You swallow dry at the sight of the scowl on his face worried you’d angered him somehow. You had made him angry but not at you. Oh no. He was angry at everyone else. Angry at the others that had gotten a chance to look at you, touch you and taste you before him. He loathed them but he couldn’t change the past. The only thing he could do is make sure that for this day forward he was the only one who could have you like this. Milos eyes bore into you the silence making you uneasy but then he gave you a sly grin and you calmed down a bit.

“You think that…”

Milos hands made their way in between your legs rubbing your clothed clit as he spoke.

“Anyone could fuck you better than i can?”

Your hips bucked as Milo pushed your underwear aside playing with your folds for a moment before inserting a digit into your cunt. Your lips fell open as you moaned, closing your eyes as Milo fucked your with his fingers.

“I asked you a question.”

“No i-ugh shit- don’t think anyone can fuck me better than you.”

“And who do you belong to?”

“Ah-fuck please- you Milo. I’m yours, I'm all yours.”

“Good girl.”

You placed your hands behind you, fingers digging into the wooden desk beneath you as Milo kept up his brutal pace.

“Wanna cum pretty thing?”

“Yess please Milo…so close-oh-please don’t stop.”

“Okay i’ll let you cum but first you gotta give me a kiss.”

You pushed yourself up so that you were closer to Milo, one of your hands finding his cheek. He smiled at you, plunging his fingers as deep as he could. You launched forward, giving him a rough kiss. 

“Cum princess, go on cum on my fingers.”

He didn’t have to ask you twice. Your body stiffened as your orgasm washed over you, your hands snaking their way across Milo's shoulders as he worked you down from your high. Your body sagged into his as he removed his fingers from your pussy and brought them to his lips. He licked his hand clean of  your juices, head falling back at the taste of you.  

“Taste so good darling.”

“Yeah?”

“That perfuct fucking pussy.”

“Your perfect fucking pussy.”

Milos dick twitched at your words the sultry tone in them making him feel impossibly harder. You seemed to notice the way his hips shifted closer to you. Your hands made their way to his pants unbuttoning them before reaching into his boxers. Milo groaned as you pallmed his cock making you smirk up at him.

“Happy to see me?”

“You have no idea.”

“I think I got a pretty good feeling.”

Milo laughed, placing a kiss to your cheek as he pushed your hair away from your face. You moved your face so that you could place Milos fingers into your mouth. He watched as you sucked on his digits, never breaking eye contact. You removed his fingers from your mouth with a pop.

“Can I take care of you Milo?” 

“As much as I would love that darling, I need to be inside you.”

“OKay. How do you want me?”

Milo pulled you off the desk flipping you around so your back was pressed to his chest.

“Lay down darling.”

“Yes sir.”

You did as he asked your ass brushing against his hard on as you did. Milos hands moved to your hips pulling your dress up so that he could get a good view of your ass. He let out a wolf whistle as he grabbed your cheeks. 

“Now that’s an ass I could get used to kissing up to.”

“What's stopping you?”

Milos grinned at you leaning down and giving your butt a soft bite. You pressed your face into the desk at the feeling, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Delectable.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh don’t thank me just yet darling. I’m about to ruin you.”

“I wanna see you try.”

“Is that right?”

“Uh hum.”

Milos hands ran up your bare thigh, his fingers toying with the edge of your underwear before ripping it off in one quick motion. You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. It wasn't long before the chill air was replaced with the feeling of Milo's warm skin. He inched his dick into your pussy slowly, trying not to cum at the feeling of your walls fluttering against him and the sounds of your squeals. Once he was fully inside he tugged your hair, forcing you to lean off the table. You could feel the outline of Milos abs against your back as he leaned down to suck on your neck.

“This is that last warning darling. Last chance to back out. If I start now I won't be able to control myself.”

“Lucian i swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now.”

Before you could even fully finish your phrase Milo had laid you back down on the desk and started pistoling  into you. He’d bring his dick almost all the way out before plugging it back in all the way. Your nipples rubbed against the wood as your body rocked with Milos movements. You could feel the desk creaking beneath you a twinge of worry entering your system but quickly vanishing. So what if he broke the desk? He could afford a new one. What he couldn't afford was cumming before you. Milo's hands found their way to your clit, rubbing it exactly. He felt you clench around him as you came causing him to reach his own orgasm. Your body fell lip on the desk, whimpering as you felt Milo pull out. You shut your eyes listening to Milo walk to the other end of the room. He returned with a wet towel, gently cleaning up the cum that had started to leak down your thighs. You whispered a small thank you, far too tired to move. Milo threw the towel on the floor, his hands wrapping around your waist as he pulled you off of the desk. He sat down on his chair tugging you into his lap. You nuzzled into Milos neck, sighing contentedly. Milos' hands stroked your hair, observing you as sleep seemed to take over your body. He placed a kiss to your hair breathing in your scent. A scent that had been made for him and only him. Everything was just as it should be: you in Milos arms. The place which you’d always belonged to.

#smut fanfiction #smut #mcu #marvel #smut tag #morbius x reader #milo x reader #milo smut #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #dr micheal morbius #morbius #lucian x reader #lucian #morbius marvel #matt smith smut #matt smith x reader #matt

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Where do I begin ?

Songfic!

Alastor x Fem! Reader

Nav !

Note : For context, Alastor & the reader are the same age. Both born 1900. The last two digits of the year is basically their age.

Warnings: Mentions of Racism, Pinning ( mutual ), swearing, 1920’s - 1930’s, Warning: sexual assault, mentions of killing, cannibalism

tags: @littlebatsimagines

Song by : Shirley Bassey

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Where do I begin

To tell the story of how great a love can be?

The sweet love story that is older than the sea

The simple truth about the love he brings to me

Where do I start?

1913 : 8th Grade Lunch Date

“ He definitely likes you Y/n.” My friend says as we sit at the table eating our lunch. On one side of the field, are tables for the white kids. On the other side, are little spots of cement where the colored kids sit. In the middle, is a lot of grass, where there’s a large tree in the middle. Under said tree, is Alastor, the schools outcast, but one of the smartest kids out there. Alastor stuck out like a sore thumb, poor thing was never dark enough to sit with the colored kids, but the white kids never wanted anything to do with him because he was mixed.

White father, black mother. It was the talk of the town when his momma was pregnant. When he was born, it was all anyone would do. As time went on, he joined the local school, and studied hard. He didn’t have many friends, and everyone always stood away from him. Regardless, he always wore that lovely smile that his teachers praised him for. He was a good kid, just not with the right crowd.

“ I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like he does.” I said, before my friend rolled her eyes, taking her lunch out of her bag.

“ Well even if he doesn’t, best not talk to ‘em again. Y’know your daddy will have you at it if he finds out you been talking to a colored boy.” My friend says, giving me that ‘ don’t do nothing stupid’ look. At that , I stare over at him, watching him eating his lunch. Around him is a small blanket, napkins and forks and knives being used ad he eats his lunch, and I smile to myself as he enjoys his meal.

“ I know I know. I’ll be fine, and he will too. We just don’t need to talk to each other.” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich.

“ Or you could give that fella a chance.” She said, before nodding her head over to one of the nearby tables.

Tommy, or also known as Thomas Vanguard. One of the richest white kids, despite our economy going down in flames.

“ Uh, I don’t really know.” I said, before she laughed.

“ Well too late, he’s already comin’ over.” She said, before my eyes widened. As I turned, I saw Tommy walking over. Oh please no. I was about to get up and walk away when I felt someone sit across from me on the bench. My friend and I turned in our seats to see who was there, it surely wasn’t Tommy.

Silence. The entire courtyard went silent.

Alastor was sitting at my table. Where all the white kids sat. Where colored kids couldn’t sit.

Until now.

“ AHH! Alastor sat at my table!” My lunch mate yelled, grabbing her lunch and running from our table. All the other kids gave the same reaction, running away to our fancy school building. I sat still, staring at him as everyone else ran away.

“ Hello.” I say, extending my hand out to shake. His eyes brightened, before he shook my hand eagerly. “ Momma says not to let people sit alone. “ I say, as I pick up my sandwich to continue eating.

“ Your momma sounds nice.” Alastor says, fixing his glasses. His skin is a caramel color, his brown hair swooped neatly to the sides and out of his face. His cheeks give a light blush, likely from the Louisiana heat.

“ I like to think she is. She can be mean sometimes though.” I say, chewing my food. Alastor smiles, before he continues his food as well. The lunch period goes smoothly from there out.

Even though the day after all the kids stood away from me because I was ‘dirty.’

Like a summer rain

That cools the pavement with a patent leather shine

He came into my life and made the living fine

And gave a meaning to this empty world of mine

He fills my heart

1915 : Highschool Newspaper

News: Black boys 12 and 13 lynched and hung at local park.

It’s all anyone’s talking about. Mainly because their brother’s been raging to the police since the whole thing happened. My best friend Mandy told me. Of course she would know, she’s his girlfriend. But no one knows.

It technically isn’t even allowed. A white girl with a black boy? It’s completely unheard of. But Mandy keeps it strictly secret. They’re never caught with one another, and even add extra arguments in public here and there to add some belief.

But I know it isn’t true. I also know that Alastor is gonna write an entire report down on it, and talk to me like if he’s one of those big fancy radio hosts I heart Tommy talk about during lunch.

“ My Daddy got my momma this cool radio, and it has this guy talking in it. It’s so cool, he sounds like a yankee.” Is usually what Tommy always says, and then he tells everyone what the radio guy says about the North.

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“ Oh M’ so sorry miss.” I hear, as I bump into someone. I stumble back and blink, pulling myself out of my daze.

“ Oh no no it’s alright. I wasn’t really paying all that attention.” I say, bending down to grab my fallen books. The boy in front of me does the same, to help me.

“ Y/n?” I hear a few feet away from me. I turn my head to find my teacher.

“ Are my cheaters cheatin me or am I seeing a colored boy with one of my students?” She asked, clearly confused. I felt my blood race, before my books were shoved into my hands.

“ I was just going to the principals office miss. Please don’t mind me.” The boy said, before my teacher rolled her eyes at him.

“ If you people would’ve been raised better maybe I wouldn’t have a problem with you.” She said before pulling a cigarette out from her pocket and lighting it. The boy lowered his head before quickly squeezing between the two of us to get by.

“ M’ sorry Misses, really was my mistake.” He said quietly as he left. When he was gone, she blew out the smoke from her cigarette.

“ Now you listen to me girl, and you listen good.” She said, pointing at me. “ Stay away from those colored folk. You never gonna be on their level so don’t try to be. Now get to class.” She said.

Oh how my blood boiled.

He fills my heart with very special things

With angel's songs, with wild imaginings

He fills my soul with so much love

That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely

With him along who could be lonely?

I reach for his hand, it's always there

1917 : High school Dance

I don’t know if this is good enough. More importantly, I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to get into the dance without my parents finding out. Would they even let me into a colored folk dance? I don’t see why not.

“ Y/n are you ready to go?” Mandy asks me from my window. She’s hanging on for dear life while I scramble to find the lipstick I need. The lipstick he likes the most.

“ Yeah just a minute.” I said, going through my vanity as quietly as possible.

“ Aw, trynna get all dolled up for Al~?” She asked, wiggling her brows. I rolled my eyes and almost jumped out of my skin when I found the lipstick I needed.

“ Okay, let’s go.” I said, before she grinned. Off we were to the dance.

“ We made it!” Mandy said as she hugged her boyfriend, who despite having a rough year, was happy to be with her.

“ Thanks for comin’. Sure they won’t have a problem?” He asked Mandy, before she shook her head.

“ No they won’t. Right Y/n?” She asked, before I shrugged, looking around the courtyard for Alastor. The party for the colored kids had been in a more quiet side of town. But that didnt mean it was easy to find someone.

“ des fleurs pour la fille?” I heard, as flowers were placed in front of me. Red roses. Wrapped in a tight red ribbon, with white fabric holding it together.

“ I didn’t know you knew french.” I said, as my eyes widened, gently taking the flowers from his grasp. I was greeted with a kiss to my temple, and his hand resting on my lower back.

“ Of course. It’s in my mothers nature after all. I hope you do enjoy tonight.” Alastor said, before offering me his arm. I took hold of it and we began to walk to the party.

“ I love the flowers by the way, they’re beautifully wrapped.” I said, before he smiled.

“ Perfect. Saved up just enough." Alastor said with a wink.

" How much was it?" I asked, before Alastor laughed, pushing the door open to the run down barn, which was where the dance would be held.

" Oh don't worry about that dear, we're here to have fun not to worry about expenses." He said, before handing our tickets to a teacher, who eyed the both of us curiously.

" Honey you sure you in the right dance?" The woman asked, taking our tickets. I nodded with a smile, before Alastor led me to the dance floor.

It's two in the morning, and the street lights are dim. All the lights on the street are out, everyone's sleeping. The flowers are still in my hand, shoes in my other as Alastor and I walk down the street to my home, the dance ending after hours of fun.

" Did you enjoy yourself?" Alastor asks, before I nod, smiling wide.

" I've never had that much fun in my life. Thank you for letting me go." I say with a smile as we approach my front steps. I walk up the first few, as Alastor stands on the pavement. I turn, waiting for him to follow.

" Can I...?" He asks, gesturing to the steps. I nod, as he steps up to walk with me to my front door.

" I hate that things are like this." I say as we stop at my front door. Alastor smiles, a sad smile, as he fixes my hair.

" Things will get better. Promise." He said, before bending down to kiss my forehead. " I'll get a real fancy job, we'll get a nice house with a pretty little yard, and we can dance as much as you want." He said, smiling. I knew that smile, that smile that he gave when talking as if he was on the radio, or when he was talking about something good that had happened with his mother at work.

" You sure?" I ask, before he nods.

" Of course. We'll get away from here, far away. New Orleans, just us." He says, before he pulls me in for a hug. " Don't ever doubt it." Alastor says, before I hug him back, ignoring the teardrops that fall on my shoulder.

How long does it last? Can love be measured by the hours in a day? I have no answers now, but this much I can say I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away And he'll be there

1919: The first bite

Twelve stations. Twelve stations that said no to him. All giving the same answer.

" You think people gonna wanna hear a colored boy on the radio? You best be trynna trick me if you think for a second you comin' in here." Was what they would say, and every time Alastor would come home with that smile on his face, despite the break in his heart.

" Any luck?" I ask, as his mother sets his food on the table, which I hand him his glass of wine.

" No, not today." He says, before he cuts a piece of his steak. His mother and I share a look, pity of course, but she's also hurt.

" Baby those people don't know who they just said no too. You're a man full of talent." His mother says, reaching over to fix his hair. " Now you just keep trying, someone outta give you something." She said, before he just nodded, his smile faltering for a moment before he sighed.

" Thank you for the food.” He said, as he took his napkin and put it around his neck, tucking it into his shirt.

“ Of course honey.” His mother said, before she stood up. “ Oh I almost forgot.” She said, before walking out of the kitchen. I began to eat the food she made, while Alastor stared at the door in confusion.

“ How was work today dear?” Alastor asks, his usually smile appearing again. I smiled to him and took a sip of the wine.

“ It was alright, some people weren’t exactly happy with their food choices.” I said, as Alastor nodded.

“ I found it!” Alastor’s mother says as she comes back into the dining room. She smiles as she sets down a small box in front of Alastor.

“ You might wanna open it.” She said to Alastor, who stared at the box with a confused smile. He lifted the lid to the small box, before his eyes widened.

“ What’s this?” He asked, before she smiled and took her seat.

“ It was your grandmothers. I found it this morning.” She said, before he smiled. Alastor looked up at me, before turning the box to face me. Inside was a ring, a gold ring with a ruby in the middle, surrounded by little diamonds.

“ She took it from a family she was working for. Her contract was up but they hadn’t given her half of what they promised. So she took that as compensation. She really meant to sell it but she liked it so much she kept it.” His mother explained, before Alastor turned the box so he could look at it again. “ Well? What do you think?” His mother asks, before he turns to look at her. The two exchange a look I can’t quite place, but he shuts the box and puts it in his mothers hand.

“ It’s beautiful.” He said, before smiling to her, and then looking at me with a smile.

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“ Y/n, someone’s here to see you.” Mandy called to me, before I took my apron off. Working at the towns diner was not an easy job. But I was finally on my break.

“ Comin’” I said, before I pushed the door that led from the kitchen to the restaurant, walking around tables and people. “ Someone needed me?” I asked, as I approached the front desk, before Mandy pointed to the door. I turned around to see Alastor, standing there with a bouquet of flowers.

“ Oh, Alastor these are beautiful.” I say, walking over to him as he smiled. When I do reach him, he bends down to give me a kiss, before handing me the flowers. There are all sorts of flowers in the bouqet, some Asters, Carnations, Roses of course, Camellia’s, a few Calla Lily’s.

“ I'm taking you out for lunch.” He said, tapping the edge of my nose. Quickly, he helped me put my jacket on, and off we were to have a lovely lunch together, where I later found out, he had finally gotten a shot to have his own radio studio.

1922: Consequences

It all happened so fast. There was nothing I could do to stop him, to stop it from happening. One moment I had been in the bathroom at work and the next I'm on the floor in tears trying to get Tommy off me. Yet nothing worked.

" Mandy I don't feel so good. I'm going home." I say, grabbing as Tommy grins at me from his table with his friends. Mandy looks at me concerned before she just nods silently.

" Feel better Y/n." Mandy says, but it's too late. I'm already pushing the glass doors and out I am onto the sidewalk of the busy street walking myself home as quickly as possible. My legs are shaky, and I can barely breathe as I open my front door, and shut it behind me. I couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he'd done to me. I kick my heels off, sobbing as I throw my jacket to the ground, letting my hair down and making my way towards my bedroom.

How dare he? How dare he do this to me? Why couldn't I stop him? Why didn't I do something? Why didn't I say something? I should've fought back harder, done something, been stronger. I turn and shut the door to my bedroom, before finding a corner near my window to curl up in, hugging my knees to my chest as I feel myself collapse on the ground, the only thing I can think of being Tommy's words.

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( Events before leaving )

" If you were with me, you wouldn't need to work in this shitty diner." Tommy said, before I hear a click. I look up, staring at Tommy in the mirror.

" I actually like working here thank you very much." I say, before I move to dry my hands with a towel from my apron. Quickly, his hand grabs my shoulder to turn me around, before his hand is cupping the bottom of my chin, squeezing the sides of my face. He's angry.

" Don't give me an attitude bitch. Word's been flying 'round you been with that mixed guy. How's he treatin' ya' huh? Bet he beats you,-" Tommy said, before shoving my face to the side so hard I fall to the ground, putting my hands out to support me. No lunch, my wrist breaks. I cry out in pain, before Tommy grabs my hair to pull be up just enough to see my face.

" What? Not used to it? Those colored folk's aint got nothing better to do than beat their women. You ain't nothing special." He said, before he slapped me. I pushed myself up with my other arm, trying to hit him back, before his knee came in contact with my stomach, airing me out. " Now you just sit there and look pretty while I show you how a real man feels. Maybe then you'll get your senses straight, 'stead of bein' dirty." And then it happened. Bottoms torn off my legs, no matter how hard I kicked or tried to hit him, nothing. I couldn't do a damn thing. All while he had his way with me. Stupid son of a bitch.

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( author's POV )

Alastor opens the front door, sighing as he takes a step into his home, finally done with the day he had at work. It only when he steps on Y/n's jacket, that he realizes something is wrong. He takes a moment to stop, staying quiet. He hears something, and when he finally realizes what it is.

He. Is. Livid.

Alastor sets his belongings down on a nearby table, before he makes his way upstairs, as calm as he can possibly be. The closer he gets, the louder Y/n's sobs are.

" Darling? Are you alright?" Alastor asks, approaching their bedroom door. No response. But the sobs don't stop. He frowns, his body beginning to shake, his nerves getting the best of him. " I'm going to open the door." Alastor says, waiting a moment for a response, before he turns the handle to the door. He looks around for a moment, before he spots her sitting near the window, on the floor in the corner. She's holding the curtain in her hand, her face stuffed into it as she sobs. Alastor begins slow, walking towards her, studying her frame. It's only when he notices the harsh color of her wrist that alarms begin to go off in his mind. He kneels down, now in front of Y/n, before he speaks again.

" Y/n?" He asks. No response, just sobs. " Dear what happened?" He asks. At that, Y/n lifts her head to stare at him. It's then Alastor realizes that whatever did happen, was very serious. Alastor doesn't speak as his hands reach for Y/n's arms, slowly pulling her as he stands, before he brings her in for a hug. " Whenever your ready, I'm here to listen." Alastor said, before he felt Y/n's hand hold onto his side.

" It was e-earlier." Y/n said between breaths, obviously struggling to speak. Alastor pulled back and stared down at her, before he saw how red her neck was. Not just red though, there were hickie's. All over her neck, and a large hand print in the middle. Like if she was being choked. The sides of her face were bruised, harsh black and blues appearing on her skin. As Alastor continued to take her state in, he saw bruises on her arms as well.

" Who did this to you?" He asked, stern. She stared, unsure of what to say. There was this look on his face she couldn't describe. His aura grew darker the longer she took to answer, as Alastor began to trace over the marks on her skin with his fingertips lightly. It had taken her a second to register what he was doing.

He was securing it. Like reassuring himself they were real, that this, what was happening, was real.

" Y/n, Dear, who did this to you?" He asked again, losing his patience. His mind was running through all sorts of things, his mind focused on the amount of rage he felt.

" ... Tommy."

That was it. Y/n stood, unsure of what to do as she watched Alastor frame shake, like a shiver. As if he was cold. He wasn't. His skin was burning hot, and as he pulled Y/n into a hug she could feel the anger seeping off of him as she cried into his chest.

" Alastor I'm so so so sorry. I tried to stop him, I really did." She said, before she pulled away from him as Alastor looked down at her, shaking his head.

" Don't be sorry. This isn't your fault. He is disgusting, and you are beautiful. He wanted to ruin you, and you didn't let him." Alastor said, wiping away the tears that continued to fall from her eyes. " How did this happen?" He asks, his tone softer now as he pulled Y/n to sit on the bed as he walked towards their bathroom. Her wrist was swollen, Alastor had pretty much guessed it was either sprained or broken. Either way, Tommy was definitely going to be his next victim.

" Your arm dear." Alastor said, as he sat back down next to Y/n, an ice pack in one hand while wrapping her wrist with the other. " Now, tell me how it started." Alastor said, before Y/n took a deep breath before she began explaining.

" I had went to the restroom at work, some customer had spilled water on me, it was an accident though. I was washing my hands, and when I looked up in the mirror I saw Tommy there. He locked the door to the bathroom and started talking. He said something about me being with him and if I was I wouldn't have to work in that diner." Y/n said, before Alastor let out a 'mhm', signaling her to continue.

" I told him I actually liked working there, and he grabbed my face and told me not to disrespect him. He called me a bitch." Y/n said, before Alastor looked at her, stopping his motions.

".. continue." He said, before moving to press the ice pack to her wrist.

" T-then, he said that word had been goin' 'round that I was with a, as he put it, 'mixed guy', and then asked how that was going for me. Then he said he bets you beat me, and then he pushed me to the floor. That's how I hurt my wrist." She explained, before Alastor nodded at her to continue, moving to check for any cuts he might need to treat on her. " After he did that he was all like, 'What? Not used to it?' and then he said colored folks don't have anything better to do than beat their women. Then he said I wasn't anything special, and he told me to sit there and just look pretty while he showed me what a feels like. He said maybe then I would get my senses straight and stop being dirty..." Y/n said, leaving out the portion of him airing her out, to not get Alastor upset.

Alastor was silent for a moment. His mind mulling over the information he had just been given. Y/n had assumed he'd been calm enough to receive the extra information.

" While I was on the ground, he also hit me, with his knee... in my stomach..." Y/n said, nervous of Alastor's reaction. He didn't say much. He was quiet.

" I'll have a talk with him tomorrow. Take the rest of this week off, I want you here, and if you go out I want you with someone so you aren't alone. You need medical help right now, I'll talk to my mother since she isn't far." Alastor said, as he stood up, quickly putting things away.

" W-wait, can't we talk about this first? I don't want him to get in trouble he might try to hurt you-"

" Y/n, I don't give a damn about what he wants to do to me! It's the fact he's gotten to you, he's hurt you, and I wasn't there to stop him. No one was!" Alastor said, stopping in front of the bed. He was upset, so much so that a tear fell from his eye, before he wiped it away. Y/n stood from the bed, but never moved to Alastor.

" I can heal from this, we can move on. I just don't want this to be a big thing." Y/n said, before Alastor stood quiet.

" It won't be. Just, let me deal with it. Stay here, relax." Alastor said walking over to Y/n to run his hands down the sides of her arms. " I promise I won't make this a big ordeal. My mother should be by shortly after I speak wit her. Until then, get yourself comfortable, be careful with your write, and wait for me to get back, alright?" Alastor asked, before Y/n nodded.

" Alright. I love you." Y/n said, looking up at Alastor, waiting for him to say it back.

" I love you too darling."

1923: Fresh Start in the French Quarter

Tommy had opened his big mouth to the entire town about Alastor and Y/n's relationship. The entire town had shunned the both of them for it, Y/n's parents officially cutting her off for good, their suspicions being correct. After that christmas, Alastor and Y/n had began to take trips to New Orleans regularly, looking for a house to by. Alastor had gotten a better job, with much higher pay. Alastor had let Y/n choose whatever house she wanted, and when she finally settled on one, he also made sure to higher movers, and of course there's the paint job and furniture.

Though the cost was something Alastor would never allow her to see, the house made her happy, and that was more than enough for him. As he had told her, " Whatever my love wants, my love gets."

The neighborhood was nice, a lot of land was also nice too, aside from the grass growing extremely fast, but the man who would mow the lawn every week was nice so there was a plus. Y/n didn't need to work anymore, since Alastor made enough for the both of them to live comfortably. The lifestyle the two had changed over too had went from simple and comfortable, just barely making it by, to lavish and extravagant.

Since moving to New Orleans people had been kinder to the two of you. As well as the two of you getting married. It was a small wedding, consisting of Alastor's mother, Mandy and her husband Clarence. A few coworkers, Alastor's uncle who was just happy to be there. The people from his mother's church who had a great time at the afterparty.

Alastor never did tell you what he did to Tommy, but that was alright. He wasn't your problem anymore.

He fills my heart with very special things With angels' songs, with wild imaginings He fills my soul with so much love That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely With him along, who could be lonely? I reach for his hand, it's always there

1925: the first letter

(Y/n's POV )

" Honey could you get the mail for me? Hand's are all covered in dirt." Alastor said, before I nodded. I had walked to the front of the lawn to open our mailbox, pulling the papers out.

"Hm. Bills, bills, more bills, bills, and, a letter?" I stop. It's addressed to me. But the address is unfamiliar. I take the mail inside and walk to the dining room to open the letter. Alastor is in the mud room, removing the gardening equipment and dirt. I open the letter, before taking the pages out from inside. There's three pages, but all are covered in black ink. Except for the second page, with the words in the middle of the page reading.

Your Husband murdered the love of my life.

Silence. I don't know who this person is. I don't know where this letter is from. I don't know who this letter is from. They must have the wrong house. My husband would never kill anyone. As upset as he gets, he wouldn't hurt a fly.

" I think we can start on dinner now." Alastor said, as I slipped the letter back into the envelope.

" What do you wanna make tonight?" I ask as we both walk into the kitchen. Alastor moves to the freezer to grab out meat while I go through our cabinets to see what we have.

" Hm, what about Chili? Never hurt anyone, haven't had any in a while." He said, before I sighed.

" Chili is the worst thing to make though." I whine, before Alastor chuckles and sets the mean down on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

" Why don't we go out then? I get my chili, you don't need to help make it. How does that sound?" Alastor asks, before I smile.

" We can go see the band right?" I ask, before Alastor nods.

" If that's what you wanna do." He said with a grin, before I smiled and kissed his cheek.

" Get your dancin' shoes. Date night!" I say as I practically sprint out of the kitchen as Alastor laughs from his place in the kitchen.

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2 weeks later : Letter two

This letter is different. The first two pages are covered in black ink, the third page being the only one that has writing. It reads.

" I know you got my last letter. Your husband is a killer. Don't deny the truth." Right in the center of the page. My hands shake as I read it, before I shut the front door, locking it tight. I begin to walk around our house, the house we bought together. The house that we danced in together, cooked together, had gatherings together. Everything.

I came across his study, where I never really entered much, since I allowed it to be just him, his personal space. Like my own study, which was really more like a library since we had shared books in there. I opened the door, but never stepped in, curious as to what he would have hidden away. The door opens fully to reveal a minimalistic room. There are papers on his desk, a desk lamp, newspapers on the side, file cabinets, a radio, a journal. Wait, a journal? I never knew he had a journal.

I step into the room, making my way over to his desk, and reaching for the journal. I flip through the pages, skimming over the words, before something catches my eye.

Tommys name.

I continue to read, reading the journal and the pages that follow up until the very latest entry. I learn all sorts of things after reading this journal, and when I place it back down on the desk I want to run out of his study. But I don't. I put it down, exactly where I found it, and exit the room. Shutting the door tightly, and leaving the house all together. Just to walk. To clear my mind. After reading his journal I learn a number of things.

First, that Tommy is dead. Alastor killed him after Tommy assaulted me at work, and took the liberty of dismembering him and even cooking some of his intestines. Second, the meat that is stored in our freezer, the meat I've been eating for years, is from actual people. Their dead, cut up bodies are the things I've been preparing every night like it's the best thanksgiving turkey anyone's ever gonna eat. Third, his mother has been getting a good portion of his check every month. There isn't a problem with that, she's a lovely woman.

But, it was the most recent entry that made my spine tingle the most.

Alastor and I had never been intimate with one another. We both had our reasons, I had been saving it till marriage, but after Tommy I hadn't been comfortable with anyone ever potentially seeing me like that again, and Alastor had never tried so it just mutually never happened. There wasn’t an easy way to put it really, in some pages of the journal he had stated he wanted to show me how to kill, to take me with him for these murders. That it would get him, excited, to think about.

I guess this is the part where I call the cops. Tell them my husband is a cruel heartless killer, that he stores remains of these dead bodies in our freezer for us to eat.

But I won’t. I can’t. Because despite knowing all this. I still love him.

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That night: Dinner

( Author’s POV )

“ Dinner is served.” Y/n says, placing Alastor’s plate of food in front of him. He smiles as she leans down to kiss him on the cheek, fixing his handkerchief around his neck. She moves to her seat, across from him, and situates herself. Immediately, he begins to dig in, cutting away at the meat with a bloodlust look in his eye she had never noticed up until now.

“ I hope you enjoy it. Took a long time to season it properly.” Y/n said, as she began to eat as well, never once touching the meat on her plate.

“ Really? Did we not have enough spices? I can run out tomorrow and get some more if you need some.” Alastor said, before taking another bite out of his food.

“ No, we had enough spices. I just wanted to season it enough so I’m not distracted by the fact it’s from a human.” Y/n says, before putting a spoonful of food in her mouth. Alastor stops, frozen as if she was crazy. He’s silent, they both are. Alastor sits there tense, expecting police officers to round the corner of his home, he thinks this is it for him.

“ What are you talking about?” Alastor asks, before Y/n looks up at him from her seat.

“ I found your journal.” Y/n says.

“ You went into my study?” Alastor asks, trying hard to mask the annoyance in his voice. He fails.

“ Yes. I’ll tell you why.” Y/n says, before she pulls out two envelopes from behind her, tossing it towards Alastor as it slides across the table to him. He stares at them curiously, before he reaches forward to open it.

“ When did you get these?” Alastor said, losing his usual smile.

“ I got the first letter maybe, two weeks ago.” Y/n says, before Alastor’s eyes flicker to her’s for a second, before back down to the letters. “ I got the second one today. I’m sure there’s going to be a third.” Y/n says, not failing to notice Alastor’s grip on his knife tighten.

“ Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asks, sternly.

“ I didn’t believe them. There was no reason to tell you if I didn’t believe it.” Y/n said, standing from her seat.

“ Y/n, did you… tell anyone?” Alastor asks, his eyes pleading with her. As if he was sorry. She knew he wasn’t.

“ Don’t look at me like that .” Y/n said, the pain in her voice obvious.

“ Did you?” He asks.

“ No. I didn’t.”

Silence. Neither one of them say a thing. Alastor stands from his seat, putting his knife down.

“ Do you hate me?” Alastor asks, refusing to look at her now. No response.

Y/n isn’t sure what to do. She’d figured he’d kill her by now.

“ Do you still love me?” Alastor asked, and the crack in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n hadn’t even realized she had started crying, and he was too. No response.

Alastor didn’t say anything after that. He left the letters on the table, before he exited the dining room. Y/n sighed, letting the tears fall. Y/n also exited the dining room, not sure where he could have gone. The house was huge, big enough to get lost in. Room by room, Y/n checked for him, now desperately trying to fix her mistake.

When Y/n made it to their bedroom, she found money sitting on their bed, all of his belongings gone. Was he leaving? Now the panic had set in.

“ Alastor!” Y/n called, running through the halls, checking for him where ever she could. practically jumping down the stairs when she saw him at the front door.

“ Alastor where are you going?” Y/n asked, panting wildly. Alastor didn’t answer. “ Alastor please.” Y/n said, before Alastor took his coat off it’s hanger.

“Y/n please, stop.” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses moving upwards slightly.

“ No. Don’t you dare tell me to stop.” Y/n said, before she began to walk down the stairs.

“ Yes dear.” Alastor said, allowing her to continue, because he knew she would.

“ I don’t want your money.” She said, putting it on one of his suitcases. “ I don’t care about that. For Christ’s sake I don’t care about our house, or our cars or anything!” Y/n said, crying again. Alastor frowned.

“ Then what do you care about?” Alastor asked.

“ You! I care about you Alastor! Not the stupid front you put up, no, I care about you! Even if you are a killer, so be it I don’t care!” Y/n said, before she moved closer to him before reaching into his pocket. She was right, there it was. The knife he wrote about. The one he always had with him. She also knew he had one strapped to him under his shirt, on his arm. “ If you think I don’t care then shut me up.” Y/n said, putting the knife between the two of them.

“ Are you asking me to kill you?” Alastor asked, confused.

“ No. I’m telling you if you don’t like what I’m saying, or don’t think it’s real. Shut. Me. Up.” She said, putting the knife to his chest.

“ I thought you didn’t love me anymore.” Alastor said, head hanging low.

“ I do. I do love you.” Y/n said, as the knife fell to the ground. Y/n hugged him, and he hugged her back with just as much force, if not more, than she did. “ I will always love you.” Y/n said, gently running her fingers down his back.

“ You wont tell anyone right?” Alastor asked, before Y/n shook her head.

“ No, not ever. I promise.” Y/n said. “ Thank you.” She told him.

“ For what?” Alastor asked, mind going blank for a moment.

“ Getting rid of Tommy.” She said.

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1932: ‘Till death do we part

She knew she could’ve told the police. She knew she should’ve. But she didn’t have the heart to tell.

Even as she watched every night, accompanied Alastor on his hunts, as he liked to call it, she still loved him.

Even when they were both all bloody, screams of a victim trying to get away, you could still feel the love between them. As odd as it may sound.

But neither one of them cared. Even when Alastor had gotten caught, when he died, she still loved him even in death. Everyone had assumed she’d taken her own life because she was devastes over him being a killer.

Oh no. They couldn’t be more wrong.

She died because she couldn’t live without him. Even in their final moments together, the only thing either cared about, was each other.

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1935: Caught

Despite them both being dead, it was only in 1935 that Y/n had finally been caught as his accomplice. Police had went through their entire house, searching through their personal items, bibles, food. Asking the help of their co-workers, house keepers, friends, family. Anyone, if they had any suspicions.

Now, they’re graves lay near one another, flowers being brought every few weeks by only Alastor’s mother, who still loved them both dearly.

“ I always knew he was a troubled child I just, thought it was because of the kids at school, and the stress of the finances.” Alastor’s mother told the police.

“ What about Y/n?” The officer asked, before his mother shook her head.

“ Oh no. She was always such a sweet girl. I never would’ve thought she would do something like that. I always knew she loved my son, but I never thought they would do that.” His mother confessed.

“ Do you have an idea as to why Alastor took the fall for the whole thing? I mean, he could’ve easily put it on Y/n when he found out the we would be searching for him.” The officer said before Alastor’s mother sighed.

“ Well, my son was in love with her, goodness. That boy would go on and on for hours about her if he could. He probably didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.” His mother said.

“ Do you think if he would have had too, he would’ve sacrificed himself for her?” The officer asked.

“ Oh yes. Of course. He would do anything he needed too to keep her safe. Why do you think he killed Tommy? He beat Y/n.” Alastor’s mother said, before the officer went silent.

“ So your saying, Alastor killed for her?” The officer asked.

“ Well, I don’t know if that’s exactly why. But I could assume so. She knew all the victims, and he’d tell me how much she’d dislike them. He was clearly trying to make her happy.” His mother said. The officer nodded, writing everything down. Now it all made sense.

How long does it last?

Can love be measured by the hours in a day?

I have no answers now, but this much I can say

I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away

And he'll be there

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin demon #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel rosie #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #helluvaxhazbin #helluva octavia #helluva boss x reader #helluva stolas #hazbin hotel helluva boss #helluva millie #helluva boss #1920svintage #1920s au #serial killer #yandere #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere helluva boss #alastor the radio demon

[imagineitdearies]

god I'm still reeling after the 22 chapter. what a mindfuck. also since you said you can talk about Astarion for hours let me take advantage of that.

so we know what Tyrus thought about this whole situation with forced bj but what about Astarion. i need his pov. was he dissociating by default, or enjoying himself despite the circumstances because it was Tyrus and feeling hella guilty afterwards?

and with the second part of the chapter what prompted his breakdown? pls ramble away ;)

Hi anon 🥰

Haha oh no, I've revealed my (very obvious) achilles heel!!

Yes yes, let's talk about Astarion in this scene 👀

As Astarion mentioned, he'd been studying up on Polymorph, hoping to prove he could be useful and an equal partner in their relationship, when Tyrus walks in.

Then Tyrus is acting off (the poor boy is not subtle about it) and 9/10 times it's thanks to Cazador, so Astarion assumes at the beginning that Tyrus has been assaulted again. And after hearing what Cazador has manipulated Tyrus into agreeing to instead, Astarion is both relieved and terrified. Their last time was absolutely awful for both of them, and at first that's all he associates this with--it's why he's so tense even whilst agreeing that he'd rather Tyrus do this with him than Cazador. Ch7 flashbacks 💀

And then he gets pulled out of it when Tyrus starts getting on his knees, reminding himself this time can be different to some extent, thanks to their bond and the lack of conditions Cazador set. At first, he's of the mindset "do the least harm," much like he was in ch4 first "teaching" Tyrus during initiation. Except this time he's sooooo much more attached to Tyrus and worried about his discomfort--not to mention feeling an unpleasant, niggling feeling of guilt about how much Tyrus has done for him of late only to now be giving him a blowjob as well. And Astarion has to shut his mouth and not offer one back even though he desperately wants to even things out because, well, he knows Tyrus too well 😂

We also have to remember that receiving a blowjob/oral sex isn't all that common in the prostitution business. Sure, it happens if the customer wants it, but very very rarely, and even then the point is always to make sure they're enjoying themselves, not Astarion, and it's usually just foreplay for the main event.

But with Tyrus in this scene, it ends up being very strange for Astarion . . . because he knows that Tyrus is not going to get his rocks off doing it. The point (besides Cazador's gross enjoyment) is Astarion's release, Astarion's pleasure. Which Tyrus does seem to care about, despite the circumstances. It's quite the novel experience.

So, while he's at first very focused and checking in on Tyrus's comfort throughout the scene, once Tyrus gets into a groove so to speak (😂) Astarion finds himself caught up in enjoying it, almost able to forget everything else, and just focus on the good parts: the physical pleasure, feeling close to Tyrus, and the pretty sight of watching him.

He's a bit confused when Tyrus ignores his warning, but his brain really isn't working enough to think hard about it before he reaches his peak and has to come down from that. Aaaaand that's when it all goes to hell in a handbasket, of course. For a split instant he doesn't understand why Tyrus would say such a thing--and then he does understand, his faculties returning to him enough that he knows who sent him this message. And all he can feel is disgust and anger, both at Cazador and at himself for enjoying it, because that means he accepted the gift.

Afterwards, his main concern is Tyrus, and then the discontent of feeling so helpless, so useless. Cue him bringing up Polymorph, and everything that follows!!

....I may have to make this a two-parter, because my ramblings are already huge now without getting more into what prompted Astarion's breakdown 😂😂

Part 2 of this Ask

#fic: perfect slaughter #ask me anything #bg3 fanfiction

[bookinit02]

bookinit’s byler fic recs

happy new years! to celebrate, i’m posting a list of some of my favorite fics of this year, sorted by word count. i tried not to include a bunch of super well-known, commonly-recced fics, and of course, there are SO many more that i didn’t include just because there isn’t enough time in the world. but i really wanted to lift up some amazing authors, my friends included, as well as some more underground fics. happy reading!!🥳

my top byler fics of 2022

1 - 10k

- it’s a choice (getting swept away) by @wiseatom. i just skimmed this again to see if i wanted to include it, and even just SKIMMING, i was having goddamn heart palpitations. there is something so special about healthy communication and resolving misunderstandings with emotional intelligence and kindness instead of anger. don’t get me wrong, big dramatic blowups are lots of fun to read, but this one stands out for how quiet it is. how gentle. not only is the willel done FANTASTICALLY, but byler here is so soft and tentative, and i was eating up every minute of it. as always, with thea, a phenomenal read. (categories: post s4, mileven breakup, painting conversation, getting together, willel)

- the body is a blade by inblue. this author is severely underrated—incredible prose, such unique fics, and so much genuine emotion in such a short space. i sincerely recommend all of their works!! phenomenal, and despite their short length, they’ve stuck with me since i read them—this one in particular. (categories: poetic, unique, character study, will byers needs a hug)

10 - 20k

- i’m caught up in you by @wiseatom. the first half of this is genuinely novel-worthy—beautifully written & crafted, to the point where i couldn’t stop writing down sentences as inspiration. the second half kicks you into an apocalyptic adventure, filled with byler banter, miscommunication, wound tending, a Painting Debacle™️, and literally everything you could want out of byler in the upside down. thea’s byler is SO much fun to read—they absolutely are best friends, and they don’t let you forget it! the banter is so realistic and snarky and fun, and i’ve read this a million times over at this point. infinite kudos always💗💗 (categories: byler in the upside down, miscommunication, angst & fluff, tension, wound tending, will has a gun)

- i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this) by blackdeathmamba. a classic, and for a good reason. great tension & pining, super butterfly-inducing, with a twist at the end that simultaneously had me yelling and giggling into my pillow. ADORABLE. so, so wonderful. (categories: pining, miscommunication, college byler, roommates, fluff)

- running up that road by @smoosnoom. i had a really hard time trying to figure out which of moon’s fics to rec bc i feel like all of them, in general, defined my 2022. and of course, everyone and their mother has recced tearing you asunder! but going back over the fics, i think this one truly had the biggest impact on me. first of all, it was the first fic i ever read while listening to the accompanying playlist, and that experience literally changed my life. it is so hard for me to read without listening to music now😭 but seriously reading this w/ moon’s song choices felt like watching a movie. second of all, i really got inside mike’s head here. his character was great, and the fic displayed some of his more unpleasant qualities that some people might shy away from, like anger or resentment. this was just a very real portrayal of byler, and of mike in general. and a lot of the scenes in here—specifically the beginning and end—have stuck with me since i read them. overall, incredible experience, and i’d read it again in a heartbeat. (categories: post s4, character study, mike centric)

20 - 30k

- the gaps and the silence by delusionaltogether (whyyyyy) aka @parkitaco. i read this last night and cried my heart out—not big dramatic sobs, but more of a silent & continuous cry that would pop back up without warning. this was just so exquisitely written—the best of parker’s work that i’ve seen, which is such an impressive feat because i love absolutely everything they publish. the resolving of miscommunication, the healing of byler’s fractured relationship, the responsibility taken on both sides, and the love that still persists through all of it—this is a masterpiece. it is a triumph of human emotion, and a truly excellent mark of good writing. cannot recommend enough—along with absolutely all of parker’s other works. (categories: angst, miscommunication, reunion, college byler, first dates, mutual pining)

- mike wheeler’s guide to falling in love with a superhero by @smoosnoom. this was my first introduction to spiderwill, and i loved every minute of it. this is fun, fast-paced, a little crazy, and just SUCH an enjoyable read. plus, i get a cameo as bagel girl, which in my opinion, is the best part!! but fr this was honestly so well done and even as i’m writing this, i’m getting the urge to read it again. loved, loved, LOVED. (categories: spiderwill, fluff, light-hearted, energetic)

30 - 40k

- you can hear it in the silence by @astrobei. there is truly not enough praise in the world for suni’s fics, or her writing in general, but this one was really something special. mike in this fic is one of my favorite mikes ever, and i think about his big conversation with robin at least once a day. this is truly just a magical coming of age romance. it is so soft & tender & real, and i genuinely could read it every single day and never get bored. also, as someone who worked in food service, i appreciated the accurate portrayal🫡 but also. never again. customers can suck my dick. getting off track here :) (categories: coming of age, friends to lovers, mutual pining, soft)

- i know, i know, i know by aude_sapere. season 4 rewrite!! the writing of this is incredible, the plot is fantastic, and it was one of my first really notable reads in this fandom. really gives will his main character moment, as he deserves!! (categories, s4 rewrite, main character will, pining, action)

40 - 50k

- i’ve come home, i’m so cold by @astrobei. this one is just. ohhhhh my god where do i even start?? this is my ideal college byler fic. it’s literally so perfect, start to finish. will’s narration is incredible, and additionally the plot is just so, SO interesting?! there’s something about suni’s writing that i just can’t get enough of. she writes exactly the way i think and it results in prose that flows effortlessly and is so much fun to read!! i am just chomping all of her fics up one by one and i am still hungry☹️ i think suni needs to write just for me forever & always actually. (categories: college byler, mystery, pining, best friends to lovers, roommates)

- boys don’t cry series by @padmedala. this series is so special to me, specifically the first installment. it was one of the first works i really read that focused on will’s queerness in other terms than his relationship with mike! there was so much queer joy & healing & growing up in this series, and it was really beautifully explored in a way that left me crying, but still unable to put my phone down. really, really wonderful, and criminally underrated. (categories: coming of age, season 4-5, queer joy, healing, romance, pining)

50 - 100k

- chiron in gemini by babydraygen. this was one of the first season 5 fics that i read, and i still think this is a REALLY interesting take on it. eddie’s alive, mike is kind of a dick, and the apocalypse is in hawkins, but everyone’s pretty chill about it. i think the characters here were so complex and interesting, and i was honestly hooked the whole time. (categories: season 5, coming of age, angst, getting together)

- there is a season by ghostlin. yet another s5 fix-it, mike-centric this time. really well written, great character development, and truly so much fun to read. to quote my original bookmark: this is, without a doubt, one of the best fics i’ve ever read. writing is impeccable, everything (EVERYTHING) is perfect, and i cherished every single word. this is my season 5. if you are reading this right now, stop and read this fic. yes, me too. read it again. (categories: s5, character development, slow burn, apocalypse, drama)

- i’ll find a new place to be from by @andiwriteordie . clearly i have a thing for s5 fics, but this was honestly so amazing!! i think about it a lot, and am definitely pulling inspo for my own eventual s5 fic (hopefully coming next year!) andi has written so many (and i mean SO. MANY) wonderful fics for this fandom, which is a gift in itself. but there’s nothing that i think about more than this one. (categories: s5, drama, will byers has powers, getting together)

100k +

- you are the heart by touchthesky. i spent months reading this one, chapter by chapter, as it uploaded, and i don’t regret it one bit. this was such an interesting, complex, and well-done take on season 5. there were some really shocking plot twists, gripping moments of turmoil, and satisfyingly resolved arcs for every single character. the action sequences are god-tier, the internal dialogue is fascinating, the worldbuilding is INCREDIBLE, and i honestly just cannot say enough good things about this fic. will probably be giving it another read soon! (categories: s5, angst, the full package, slow burn, will pov, intense worldbuilding, main character death)

again, there are SO many more—and yall are always welcome to search my bookmarks on ao3—but those are the ones i was thinking about today. here’s to more great fics in 2023!!🥳🥳

#byler fic recs #feel free to use

[slaygentford]

the jdcu: a comparative analysis in fact and fiction

several months ago I watched the netflix program mindhunter. this was a normal experience until I found out it is based on a memoir -- the work of 77 year old ex FBI agent John Douglas (jd). indeed, he is the man behind every behavioral analyst character youve ever seen, most notably jack crawford of silence of the lambs/Thomas Harris's novels, which consulted him personally.

I could not believe that those jds -- jack crawford and far more, as it turns out -- were based on the same man that jd of the show mindhunter was based on. mindhunter tv's jd is like if m3gan was a gay keebler elf. his girlfriend tells him to use his womanly wiles on murderers to get them to talk! and he does so -- the harlot! I was stunned. 77 year old ex FBI agent John Douglas consented for this little freak to be his eidolon forever on netflix? who even IS John Douglas?

and so I am compelled by intellectual curiosity to ask: by watching all jds ever committed to screen, can we qualify the multitude that is jd? and, after hearing John Douglas speak on John Douglas in his own words, can we decide who among the many is the most accurate fictional depiction? to conduct this study which is a really good use of my time, we begin by sorting the fictional jds into two categories: slaygent and hard boiled detective. after this, we will compare them to jd in his own words -- that is, his memoir and his masterclass.

mindhunter tv: let us begin where the problem first surfaced. much has been said about patient zero holden ford. a youthful thirty, he begins a career of seducing real life serial killers to learn about their behavior and so forth. many times I asked: girl what kind of interview is this? in the interest of time I will simply say that this evil roomba created and defines the slaygent category.

silence of the lambs: the next logical move. here we encounter the original and most famous fictional jd: jack crawford. despite a strong effort to manufacture chemistry with jodie foster, he is sadly still a man. three words I would use to describe this jd are Svelte, Serves in a trenchcoat, and Succinct. he falls in the middle of the slaygent/hard boiled Venn diagram.

manhunter: this jack is adorned with a rare and compelling mustache. in one scene he shouts, AND I'D DO IT AGAIN! I was not paying attention at this point to what he would do again but I did not doubt he would do it. no dignity, all exhaustion. hard boiled.

Hannibal nbc: jack crawford receives a much needed reboot! Laurence fishburne gives a nuanced and honestly moving performance of a man for whom meaning is unraveling one day at a time. this jack is sartorially aware but practical, and remains empathetic despite his painful job. hard boiled

the alienist: dr laszlo is our first sherlock holmes* archetype -- somehow this has not cropped up before now. with his difficulty relating to people, his lovely coat with a fur collar, and his genuinely sharp observations, laszlo alienist emerges as a dark horse slaygent.

*due to its original publication date, Sherlock Holmes and successive properties are not relevant to a John Douglas study.

criminal minds (& related procedurals): cm's david rossi, along with his counterparts across other networks, are unilaterally hard boiled.

though hardboiled jds prevail in quantity, slaygents are not necessarily an anomaly. now the moment of truth: is the real jd a holden ford or a jack crawford?

Mindhunter (book):

while reading this book I began to feel...discomfited. and not just because it's 400 pages of self aggrandizing ghostwritten prose. something was wrong. it wasn't until, in the last five pages of the gauntlet, that it all cohered.

jd and his wife separated because work kept him away, because he barely knew his children, and because when his daughter skinned her knee he couldn't find much empathy for the scrape because of the shit he saw all day. this isnt the unmarried antisocial slaygent ford who began our odyssey. this isn't even the stylish and heterosexual Jack Crawford of silence of the lambs, nor our mustachioed manhunter. a man who lacked empathy for his child? whose marriage crumbled? who thinks shrinks are dumb as hell? whose main recourse in difficult moments is to remind himself that serial killers are nothing but "inadequate losers" -- of no inherent interest to him outside of their contributions to his noble mission to stop serial killing?

whatever answer remains, however unfuckable, is the truth: holden ford -- and indeed any slaygent -- has never been John Douglas at all. even jack crawford is barely a jd himself. we've been overlooking the real jd all along. and he was right under our noses. hiding like the adder, right in plain sight.

the bill tench paradigm shift

a chain-smoking vet whose wife leaves him because he thinks their kid sucks? an unapproachable asshole clinging to his slippery moral high ground?

target locked.

but make no mistake. this is not yet a victory. if bill tench was right before us all along, then how many jds did I overlook with my narrow definition of a jd??? has hubris bested me again? who will we find now that the truth is blown open before us? how will we wrangle this new data into a useful paradigm? what does paradigm actually mean and can I use it in a sentence like that? questions we must answer.

I propose an ontological compromise. if we set slaygent at one end of a spectrum and the true jd at the other, we may examine all jds and potential jds without compromising the integrity of the real/tench jd, AND without ignoring the fact that slaygent ford is BILLED AS jd. indeed, slaygent and jd CAN coexist -- it is only that their differences must be accounted for.

below are MANY, though not every, possible jd.

now to the final frontier: www.masterclass.com, where for the low low price of 100 dollars you can access celebrities just verbatim reading from their memoirs. literally just verbatim reading from them. like I'm not joking like you could just go to fucking barnes and noble.

mindhunter (masterclass by jd): the discovery of this masterclass was a windfall in my work (thank you cj). now, at last, to the knowledge gleaned. jd (real) is man with white hair and a very slight New York accent. he is well fit for his age with minimal male pattern baldness. he confirms everything we have discovered regarding the bill tench paradigm shift; gruff, to-the-point, sardonic. even his controlled mannerisms are tenchian.

and so I must ask: from whence did the slaygent archetype spring? and why did jd consent for the scary keebler elf to be his proxy? despite the depth of my work, I cannot access the mind of this man, nor the circumstances which gave rise to these anomalies in the continuum.

still. in the indefatigable spirit of jd himself, I feel a theory nipping, nibbling at my ear. I mentioned sherlock holmes before, and now some unwanted voice within me calls out that very name. is it Holmes who shapes the slaygents into his image, even from beyond the grave? has all of this been a prelude to the real work -- the work of examining and classifying every Holmes committed to screen?

like vercingetorix, exhausted by the struggle, here I toss down my arms. with or without me, though, the jd quest continues. what doors remain unopened? what slaygent homunculi lay in wait behind them? and what will become of us, if we knock?

#well

[poetslore]

Things I noticed on my most recent “Coraline” rewatch: part 1

1. THE COMPUTERS: at the beginning of the movie we see that Coraline’s parents are ignoring her for their work, more specifically a gardening catalog they have been working on. That’s when I notified the computers. Coraline’s mother has a lap top, it appears to be brand new mostly because around the time this movie was made laptops were just becoming popular, while Coraline’s father has a 90s style box computer, he even appears to be using an older program to write his section of the catalog. How I interpreted this is that Coraline’s mother seems to be more sophisticated or materialistic. We see that she dresses far nicer than her husband and of course the Lap top. Coraline’s father is far more laid back, his clothes are messier and he seems to enjoy Coraline’s presence far more than her mother.

2. THE DOLL: the first night at the house, Coraline lies down in bed (the dinner transition) glanced at her poison ivy rash and then talks to the picture of the friends she left behind in Michigan, when the camera pans over we see that the doll is looking at Coraline as she lays on the bed, later, when Coraline wakes up at the sound of mouse, the doll is no longer looking at her, this is because the other mother is using the mouse to spy on Coraline and guide her, not the doll like she does during the day.

3. ONE NOTE PIANO: when Coraline first enters the other world she meets the other mother and she is then told to go fetch her other father who is in his study, for dinner. When Coraline enters the study we can see that the other father is tapping on a singular piano key, almost as if he’s in a trance, he had no purpose because Coraline isn’t around him, then about two or three seconds later he notices Coraline’s presence and acts giddy and excited and plays the “making up a song about Coraline” piece. I took this as the other mother “activating” the other father the second Coraline was near him.

4. NO FOOD?: the iconic dinner scene. On Coraline’s first night in the other world, the other mother cooks her an elaborate welcome dinner. During this dinner Coraline piles the food onto her plate (it’s appearance and likely taste is far better than her fathers tragic cooking in the real world) and then we see the other father, who also piles food onto his plate, but there’s one outlier here, the other mother. The other mother doesn’t pile food onto her plate, despite spending time on an elaborate dinner, which you’d then expect she’d want to feast on her labors, she sits there, her porcelain plate empty as she watches the others eat. I interpreted this in two way. First, the other mother is ancient, she doesn’t need to eat to survive. At least, she doesn’t eat food to survive, she eats the souls of children. Secondly, she is far more focused on Coraline, pleasing the blue-haired eleven year old girl and manipulating her rather than the food, and eating it like a regular “human being”

5. SMART COOKIE: once again this takes place during the dinner scene. Coraline has just received her welcome home cake when the other mother offers for them to play a game. At this point Coraline is growing a little suspicious for a number of reasons. She likely got a gut feeling that something a little malicious and uncanny was happening, the other mother and the other father knew she was coming based off of what the cake said (there’s no way they should’ve known she was coming, without magic of course), then the other mother asks to okay a game Coraline’s mother in the real world hate games. But we really see her first grow truly uncomfortable when the other mother taps her fingers against the table, something that Coraline’s real mother does quite frequently. It is clear that the other mother made this movement in an attempt to make Coraline feel comfortable, to make her feel like she was around her actual mother, but the girl doesn’t fall for it. She actually finds it strange and it just tacks into the pile of strangeness that has taken over the dinner. Then the lightning strikes after Coraline says there is no rain and at this point Coraline is deeply unsettled. She’s one smart cookie if you ask me.

6. “SEE YOU SOON”: despite the fact that Coraline showed extreme discomfort at dinner and on the way up to her bedroom the other mother and the other father say “see you soon” as she falls asleep. I interpreted this as: The other mother knew that the talking stuffed octopus and the chomping turtle wouldn’t convince Coraline something weird wasn’t going on there or wouldn’t ease that discomfort, but she did know that creating false versions (Coraline doesn’t know this) of Coraline’s “best trolls” aka her best friends from Michigan would comfort her and make her more open to coming back. She knew that Coraline would come back, she knew that she won this round simply based off of bringing Coraline’s “best trolls” to life.

This is where I stopped. I got tired lol. I will continue watching and update more on what I notice

#coraline #movie analysis #movies #film #other mother #laika studios #claymation #coraline jones #other father #movie review #movie aesthetic

[thequeenofsastiel]

What are your thoughts on Kanghan x Sailom dynamics after episode 3? You dropped a great meta last week that I can't stop thinking about, don't leave us hanging bestie, we wanna know more!!!;

So sorry for the delay in answering--I wanted to give it a few days to percolate and watch again--and now that I've done so, I do have a bit to say.

So Sailom was very firm when it came to tutoring. That could be misinterpreted as dominance, but it wasn't. I believe it stemmed from the immense honor that Sailom has. Kanghan's grandmother paid him, and Kanghan protected him. Sailom feels obliged to tutor Kanghan so that Kanghan can have a better life. And so he's not afraid to push Kanghan to succeed, because he believes he owes that to Kanghan.

There were a few Dom/sub moments. First was when Kanghan told Sailom to get on the bike after tutoring. He didn't say it calmly or encouragingly. He snapped at Sailom to get on in a very commanding tone. And Sailom--despite having just had flashbacks to Kanghan bullying him--nods and obeys.

The second, and third thing, were in the restaurant scene. Sailom, upon seeing the prices, instantly tried to run for it, but Kanghan ordered him to sit back down and eat there with him, saying that he was paying. And Sailom didn't argue. Which I find significant, given how averse he is to taking money without earning it. You'd think he would fight this more, just like he did with the tutoring money, but he didn't fight at all. He sat back down. Also, Kanghan ordered for him. Sailom actually specifically gave that power to Kanghan when he said he could eat anything, and Kanghan didn't even blink before accepting it.

The fourth was when Kanghan grabbed Sailom by the wrist and yanked him back to give him the steaks. He didn't need to do that. It was entirely unnecessary. Sailom would have turned back if Kanghan had asked him to. But Kanghan saw an excuse to get dominant with Sailom, and took it. And on Sailom's side, he didn't even bother fighting Kanghan at all. He allowed Kanghan to manhandle him, not pulling away, waiting for Kanghan to release him.

The fifth was the not-quite-kiss. Kanghan didn't hesitate to push Sailom against the wall when the idea occurred to him, and despite how annoyed Sailom behaved afterwards, he at no point even tried to push Kanghan away. He let Kanghan do what he wanted to do to him, just like with the wrist grab.

The last scene was one of the most interesting to me. Sailom actively fights with Kanghan, but he does it not out of dominance, but out of affection. And his asking Kanghan to study for him was so effective because Doms do want to impress their submissives. Admittedly there's equal desire on both sides to impress the other, just for different reasons. And we also got another example of Sailom throwing himself into Kanghan's arms, and Kanghan, despite deep emotional distress, can't help but return the hug. He even runs his hand up and down Sailom's back, and pats it. I don't quite know how to describe it, but it just looked like a Dom and a sub holding each other. Don't ask me to explain why it feels that way, it just does(okay I'll probably obsess over why and get back to you).

I hope you liked this meta! And thanks for saying you liked the first ones I did. It's nice to know at least some people enjoy it.

#dangerous romance #kanghansailom #sailomkanghan #kanghansailom meta #my meta #my asks #kanghansailom d/s meta

[bird-inacage]

So this show had the making to be something really decent but veered off-track pretty sharpish. If you don’t mind hearing some constructive criticism, please read on. I want to find out if others felt the same way.

The story follows Uea and King’s navigation from being bed friends (aka friends with benefits) to being a bonafide couple. The overwhelming feeling I felt after watching this series is that there was a ‘let’s include everything’ mentality. The writing lacked cohesive focus and restraint in what plot points would best serve the telling of this story.

One example of the shaky writing is the poor use of conflict. There is no clear objective in why certain conflicts are included. We get multiple villains to the same effect whose only purpose is to pile anguish onto our lead and little else: Uea’s mother, stepfather, ex-boyfriend and boss all come across as caricatures with no distinction or redeemable qualities to speak of. When such components are used all too frequently, they feel less consequential - thus drastically reducing suspense, stakes, and emotional investment from the viewer. No depth results in no impact.

Episode 9 was particularly guilty of this and I’ll use this as a case study. It opens with Uea’s stepfather being arrested (this is quickly set up at the end of episode 8) and is not referenced again. Then a colleague confesses their love for Uea, which sets up a potential love rival for King. We’ve never seen him even interact with Uea before so it feels completely out of the blue. This poses no threat because we know Uea will turn him down for this very reason. Surprise, surprise, he does. Then we see King’s mother display disapproval of King/Uea’s relationship. Other than just one brief, prickly confrontation - by her next appearance - she quickly accepts Uea.

Quality over quantity is the key lesson here. Be selective. Ensure your story beats are set up and fleshed out with enough breathing room, delivered with a satisfying payoff, rather than throwing everything in and hoping something sticks. If you are ever in doubt if a scene is superfluous, always ask the why. Why include this? Does it add value (to either the story and/or characters)? Bed Friend had me questioning this a lot.

I like the nod to blood testing that both Uea and King get done after their first night together. I give kudos whenever a show makes the effort to feature and normalise concerns around sexual health.

Main Leads: Despite suffering a huge amount of hardship, Uea is a surprisingly put together human being. He knows what he wants but is reasonable when he needs to be. I really enjoyed Uea’s confidence in his sexuality. He knows his own allure and how to harness that power. King can be downright sweet and charming but sadly didn’t have a strong sense of his own personhood. There was little backstory or context given to help you understand him as a individual and his motivations outside of Uea, which left me confused sometimes as to his decision-making. As the other main lead, I’m extremely disappointed by how badly his characterisation was handled. For example Uea coins him as a playboy, but we never see evidence of King excessively flirting with other people. We need to understand why Uea perceives him so negatively, to act as a comparison for when Uea changes his opinion later on. Show, don’t just tell. Overall, it’s their situation which develops (their relationship status) rather than their characters. They are more or less the same people they were at the beginning, just together.

Other: As the series unfolds mostly around Uea’s point of view, the remaining cast do get a raw deal. Give your secondary characters more to do than just be there. Please. More creative decisions could have been made in how these smaller characters could have played into the narrative (such as Jade, Uea’s sister or King’s parents), so that their roles don’t feel relegated to being background noise.

Acting Performance: I did fall in love with Net and James as the series progressed. They have incredibly fiery and exhilarating chemistry which translates especially well in their love scenes. They manage to balance heat with incredible levels of tenderness. I would even argue that as soon as they have any physical interaction on screen, that’s when the show comes alive. They are very adept at creating sexual tension, that’s for sure. It’s the dialogue driven moments that tend to be a bit hit and miss (but I think editing has a big part to play in this). You can tell these two are still newcomers and aren’t quite as layered in their acting abilities yet but that’s understandable. Net has a habit of doing a lot of heavy breathing when he’s conveying anxiety or worry. This can be remedied with more coaching and better direction. Note: I did also watch some of their acting in 'Catch me Baby' for context. Net has noticeably improved since then but James actually felt more natural in his performance in that series than here.

Pairing Rating: [HOT + TENDER] If you want to get hot under the collar, and still maintain softness, this two have got you covered. Sizzling sensuality in buckets.

For a show that clearly has high production values, this is where the series really suffers. A myriad of issues become apparent beneath the show’s glossy exterior, and the biggest sin here is it detracts from the actor’s efforts. I really do feel for the cast because production didn’t do them justice.

Editing: There are some very odd editing choices across the board.

Excessive uses of slow motion in places where it doesn’t belong. Some border on absurd (I laughed out loud during the first NC scene *above* where King somersaults onto Uea’s lap). I don’t know about you, but kung-fu matrix style choreography is not warranted in love scenes.

Sound-mixing choices can completely kill the mood. I cringed during the cat NC scene when comedic ‘yowls (meows)’ played in the background. Just why?

Instances where conflicting shifts in mood would take place within a single scene, particularly in how music was used. This would cause me tonal whiplash.

Flashbacks are superfluously added into scenes we saw only moments ago, occupying precious run time.

The passage of space and time can feel abrupt and therefore jarring. Establishing scenes need to be better utilised to anchor the viewer in the where and when things are taking place.

Fans have noticed really lovely scenes that were cut short or completely. No clear reasoning as to what made the cut/uncut versions or not at all.

Ultimately, the show feels like its trying far too hard to be distinctive, which can discredit the gravity of the scenes or draw your attention away from the performances. Now believe it or not, I can see what they were going for (cue sultry music video with dramatic quick cuts). I’ll credit that many of the shots and way they use camera work is certainly eye-catching and fresh. But flashiness for the sake of it is not a good thing if it adversely impacts pacing or comprehension of the narrative. Some editing styles only work best in short form rather than in a series, which is a trap they fell into here. It made the direction feel clumsy, lacking consistency and finesse - a kid in a candy store discovering PowerPoint transitions for the first time.

Styling: I do love the styling and palette of this series. All the costumes and environments looked really beautiful and rich - from our two leads’ apartments to their design office. They successfully manifested a more mature feeling to the series overall.

>>>

FINAL THOUGHTS: Now don’t get me wrong, I have grown to love this pairing. I think they have fantastic potential, and this is why the production issues irk me so damn much, because it spoils what could have been. If you’re willing to ignore the more glaring problems, there are some lovely moments sprinkled in there. I personally found the issues increasingly distracting as the series went on, causing me to skip portions. But why I saw this through was because I could tell Net and James tried their best with what they were given. If less time had been spent on stylistic choices, and more energy on Net and James’ acting, we might have a different story. I still believe they are a very promising partnership that could flourish with a better script, and I pray that ‘Love Upon a Time’ showcases them better.

(Disclaimer: These are just my own opinions. It goes without saying that one still can enjoy a show for all its successes as well as recognising its shortcomings.)

#bed friend #bed friend series #kinguea #ueaking #king x uea #uea x king #netjames #net siraphop #james supamongkon #bird-inacage reviews #bed friend review #thai bl

[artist-issues]

Honsetly I totally agree about the remake. I don’t like how they put little effort on remakes to try to surpass the original or be as unique. every time they have speaking dialogue in the new one, they always seem monotone and robotic. It like they either have no or show emotion telling us what they feeling *that why I like the animated movie because you can get away of expressive character can get by their face or they’re voice*

The only remake I still love and will keep on watching is homeward bound and 101 Dalmatian with Glenn close *despite having a few changes, they still kept what made us love about the original. And Glenn close had way too much fun playing the role of the cruella. this was after the movie fatal attraction and I love how the meaner she was, the better the movie became*

The one thing I love about the old classic Disney movies is how Walt Disney made the movies came to life and given how limit technology they had in 1940’s. For example the movie Bambi. After the success of Snow White, Walt wanted to make a animated movie of a deer but he wanted a realistic drawings of animals, so he went and bought live animals so his employees can study the behavior of the animals

He had a subtle way of sending a psa message of preventing/how someone can recklessly start a Forrest fire *I know this because the vhs of the end of this movie had a behind the scene of how they made this movie and I love the process and learning the knowledge* and I love the music

And when I learn that they might remake, I was livid. It was one thing that we deal with Bambi mom death, we don’t need to see it live action again

Disney classic has a subtle way of sending the message, but the live action remake tend to hammer and shove the message down our throat.

I agree! I think it's important to note that, in general, the Live Action Remakes don't just "shove the message of the classics down our throats, though."

The worst thing is that they change the message of the classics, and then that new message is communicated so clumsily that it feels like they're shoving it down our throats.

Because it's like I've said before: a movie's message and a movie's characters go hand-in-hand. In fact, everything about the movie from the lighting to the music is meant to make the message clear, but still compelling.

So in a remake, if you change the message, the original characters won't fit. And if you change the characters and the message to try and match, the whole story starts to feel less compelling, less interesting, less seamless. You would've been better off making a brand-new story.

But that's the thing. They won't take the risk of making a new story. And they also won't take the risk of honoring the classic messages--and it would be a risk to do so, because the classic messages no longer fit what our current culture says about things like faith, self-sacrifice, race, love, duty, etc.

And what I mean by our current culture is, people who believe in girlbosses and self-actualization and power/agency-in-the-form-of-power, to the detriment of all the values I listed above.

Anyway. You're right! Thanks for the compliment.

#Asked #answered #Preciate ya #Disney #live action remake #Disney live action #live action #remake #La remake #the little mermaid 2023 #the lion king 2019 #Pinocchio 2022 #Mulan 2020 #Snow White 2024 #beauty and the beast remake #live action batb #Live action beauty and the beast #Emma Watson #Halle Bailey #Rachel Zegler

[ohfallingdisco]

all of ur wips look so cool!! I’d love to hear more about dead fanta, dustin

ahh thank you!! i hope they are lol

here’s the opening for dfd:

Mike’s campaign was meant to honor the friends they lost in the war. 

Not that they died in Mike’s story, of course—nothing to stir up bad memories while playing through a cathartic campaign—but it was meant to symbolize, in summary, that even though they were growing up now, they were still the Party members they had been before it all started. The plot was woven around memories and details they had gotten together and shared, over smiling and tears, a few months ago at the birth of the idea. There were lots of cats, to honor Mews, a hero who lived to honor the agent who protected them in California…vulnerable things, while being solid and untouchable in the realm of fantasy. 

And not a single person was allowed to mention Vecna. 

Logically, it should be a very good game. Logistically, even. It was going to go great. So why was Will hovering at the top of his basement stairs the night before it started, looking smaller than he had been in years, almost sick with nerves? 

They had just talked to each other over walkies that morning. Nothing too serious could have happened, right? 

Nothing…bad? 

And so Mike watched Will with a lump in his throat, as Will descended the steps with Mike’s heart in his hands. 

He swore that if they were about to need to kill Henry again, then…then he didn’t want to be a part of it. That pathetic bastard had taken enough from them all as it was. 

Mike held his breath and studied Will as he finally reached the bottom of the stairs. He looked a little calmer now, which was good—but still freaked out, which was not. 

“Hi,” Mike greeted, but it came out too quiet. He cleared his throat, and his friend’s wide eyes darted up to his. 

He winced. Whoops. 

Will gave a soft smile back, only kind of strained. “Mike,” he returned, voice gentle and assured, and…well, Mike could address the way it made his stomach flutter later. 

He set down the notebook he had been using to scribble last-minute details about the campaign. “Is everything okay?” he asked, and then kicked himself. “Not that—not that you’re not always welcome here. In my house. Or—with me, or.” 

“Mike,” Will huffed happily, the corners of his lips quirking up into a tiny smile. “Everything’s fine. But, um. Thanks, I guess.” 

…Success. 

Mike thought his smile back was maybe kind of dopey, but he was fine with that. Will deserved to know that people cared about him. 

—

AND because i like this one, some from the first scene with Dustin’s pov:

Yeah, yeah. Dustin had been home alone bllions of times before. 

From when he was little and his dad died, to recent years, like Dart or the robots after camp, he was used to filling odd silence and stretchy quiets. It had become a part of his home, by now, when Mom was at work. You could even say he liked it, sometimes. It gave him space to move around. 

But despite all the years he had gotten used to staying home alone, there were some things he never got used to. Branches scraping the window. People talking outside, the cat’s random screeches, his friends showing up at weird hours to bug him. 

But…those footsteps crunching his grass right now were not from anyone in the Party. Will and El never made a sound when they walked, Lucas and Steve were more of a saunter, and Mike and Max were quick and purposeful. 

Damn it, Dustin knew his friends. And right now, he also knew he was in danger. 

He couldn’t risk looking out the window. Or going back to his room, because he had left the blinds open in the kitchen. 

And it was almost midnight. How, and why were there strangers at his house, at almost midnight, on the one night his mom happened to be in the hospital? She’d sprained her foot and been forced to stay one night. She couldn’t help it. And as far as she knew, Dustin was staying at Steve's tonight—dammit, he should’ve just gone through with it. 

It couldn’t have been that humiliating, for long.

Definitely not more than getting murdered over the one twelve-hour stretch he was supposed to be taking care of himself. 

Dustin sighed, muffling the breath with a palm.

What the actual, ever-loving—?

A quiet clatter from his room. 

Oh. 

Oh, shit. 

The cat. He forgot the cat was out, sleeping on his bed. No one left their cat out unsupervised when they were going to sleep, or at least not where they wouldn’t be able to reach them quickly and fix any problems made in the middle of the night. 

But there was a really big problem with going to his room right now: he’d have to pass through the kitchen. 

Where the window was open. And the dangerous strangers could see right in. What would they even do to a seventeen-year-old kid home alone overnight? How would they do it? Would he be taken to a lab, same as El, except without the potential of superpowers to keep him alive? Passed off as dead, like Will? Brutally psychically targeted—like Max? 

Just as he’d thought all that shit was over… 

A quiet click behind him, and a walkie-talkie stirring to life crackled through the closed window. Better quality than the Party’s, so. Someone official. 

His heart was pounding. He wasn’t ready to die. His friends were all still here and he was supposed to get married to Suzie eventually, and his mom— 

“…target,” the walkie-talkie said. 

He was trying so hard not to panic. 

—

so, hope you like it!! <33 the first chapter of this one pretty much just needs to be edited all together i think (and i owe the huuugest thanks to @wheelersboy for helping with beta-ing grammar etc. and accidentally helping me remember my original plan lol)

#cool people #byler fic #byler wip #byler

[moonmeg]

Hey so I really love your art and your body poses ars always so fluent! I have a very simple style what is your suggestion for artists who want to change from cartoony to a more realistic style like yours? And how do you get your anatomy so good!!!Also if you have time or effort could you give a small showcase of where you started and where you are now and how you developed the style!?!?

-Small side note in Watching and dreaming what sene made you cry the most?

-Personally balled my eyes out when the collector started crying.Sorry for the long thread but what do you think happened to the collecotr?

-KEEP UP THE JAW DROPPING ART!!!❤️

Thank you so, so much!

The time skip made me so happy yet so emotional but I think when the collector started crying after Luz "died", yeah that might be the moment :')

I started developing my own style the way it is now with my entry into the Hamilton fandom. I've had a style before, that I drew Miraculous Ladybug fanart with and it looked something like this

I was 14 when I drew this. I was still heavily influenced by an anime art style despite me never having seen an anime at that point in my life.

With entering the Hamilton fandom, however, I found animatics. Szin was an artist that had an art style I looked at with 15/16 and said "I want that.". So I started copying some things from szin's artstyle that I really liked (the way they drew hair and noses specifically). Over time I discovered other artists that I had art-style envy over. That being caw-chan and ziksua predominantly. I think I adapted more from caw-chan and szin than from ziksua but I would lie if I said her art didn't have an impact on me.

So my art style developed year by year.

There are big time skips between these deawings but if you're interested in my Hamilton era search #hamilton on my tumblr and scroll through it a bit. Or if you go down the rabbit hole on pinterest just enough, you'll find old art to. Search "megpeggs" on pinterest for that.

During Hamilton times of course not only other artists inspired me but I also started looking up tutorials or art commentaries on YouTube. Videos where an artist genuinely critiques their viewers art proved most useful, because they show you how to improve the anatomy, what basic rules you can follow to get anatomy right etc. And of course, references and realistic portraits. (That last drawing was created with a reference.)

If you want a more realistic art style you need to study the realistic anatomy and know how to draw something realistic. For that you need a reference that you look at again and again, basically analyzing it and taking it apart to see how what looks and how you can best copy it on canvas.

Depending on complexity it of course is rather time consuming but it's a huge help. If you know how to draw something pretty damn realistic, you can easily cartoonify or simplify certain features. (Not saying I'm so great at realism but I'd say I'm not that bad at it either)

Enter Avatar era.

A show where you can bend elements and a show that is filled with quite a lot of fight scenes makes you want to do fanart that is as dynamic. So you sit there staring at pose references again. Or you take pictures of yourself doing these things. I can't say how much the ATLA and LOK art style influenced me because there barely is any resemblance between the show and my art but I do ghink it had at least a little impact on my art style.

It involved a lot of referencing and copying (important note: not tracing!) in my case. And that's really the most important tip I can give here. Studying and analyzing the reference picture you chose. How long and thick are limbs? How big are the hands? The torso? The neck? How much smaller or bigger does this limb look due to the perspective? Learn the rules before you break them.

Some examples:

Foreheads are bigger than they seem! Remember that your character needs to fit a brain in there.

You should be able to fit one third eye between the two eyes - that's the usual distance.

Eyes are on one height with where the ears begin.

The nose's end is on one height with the earlobe.

The distance from the outer corner of the left eye to the outer corner of the right eye is the same length as the neck (in thickness)

Remember that the neck supports the head. When drawing a side profile it should start at the back of the head and leave some room for a jaw.

Hands are big enough to cover your entire face.

Your elbow is on one height with your waist.

Your whole arm should reach from shoulders to about the middle of your thigh.

There's space between breasts and the neck. You have a collarbone there!

Natural breasts hang. They have weight to them and get pulled down by gravity.

There's bones and organs everywhere in your body and they need space too

Skin wrinkles Angle your arms or hand. You're not a Barbie, you've got wrinkles there on elbow and wrist.. Furrow your eyebrows. The skin on your forehead wrinkles.

Everything I listed here is something you can go check out on your own body and it should be correct. Of course this is just the usual way anatomy is like - exceptions are found everywhere.

If my art style is something you look up to, as weird as it sounds, study it. Look at the way I draw things and try to copy them and incorporate them into your own style.

It's also important you go out of your comfort zone.

With TDAAC I couldn't name what exactly changed or developed in my art style more but I do know I started to hide hands less and challenge myself to actually draw that hand pose, staring at references from pinterest or my own hands doing that pose.

Art is a matter of learning and studying. It's time consuming, it's nerve-wreking, you may sit there and ask yourself why the hell you decided to do art but it's worth it all.

I'd recommend keeping your old art around somewhere. Over the years you can then always go back to it and compare it to your current art and see just how much you grew as artist. And that is something that definitely comes. The more you draw, the more you learn. It's not witchcraft, even if it might seem like it sometimes.

I'll add some more art of mine in a reblog, since tumblr only allows me to add 10 images.

#moonmeg ask #art tips? #idk i don't think I'm qualified to hand out art tips but weee

[keicordelle]

A First for Everything Chapter 11: A Watched Pot! Somewhere in my notes folder, there are eight (8) drafts of this chapter. Thancred just really did not want to express himself. Which, given the situation, is fairly in character, actually, I guess

Read it on Ao3 at the link above, or check out the first chapter on Tumblr here.

-

"Uri—" Urianger didn't so much as look back, tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away. His nightgown swirled around his ankles as he fled, his usually soft steps striking through Thancred’s ears like tolling thunder. Each step a finality.

Not half so final as the thud of the door as it closed behind him. Leaving Thancred staring at the space where he had just been, the heat of Urianger’s body still clinging to his sleep clothes. He could still taste him on his lips, sweet and tentative and new. Could feel the phantom touch of his hands through his hair, and his tongue coiling against his own.

Thancred touched his lips, still staring after Urianger. That had been... sweet. In all the hundreds of times he'd pictured kissing Urianger in the last few weeks, he could never have imagined how gentle he'd be. How eager. Even his wildest fantasies paled in comparison to the reality.

The tangled snarl of emotion that had replaced Thancred’s heart squeezed tighter as he heard the front door thunk closed. Fuck. "Haaa...." He sank down to sit on the end of the bed, head dropping to bury his face in his hands. Gods, he shouldn’t have done that. He should have waited until he was sure it was really what Urianger wanted. He'd let his own desires get away from him and let himself get swept up in the moment because he had wanted to kiss Urianger. He should have waited until Urianger was ready — until he was ready. Thal's balls, he wasn't sure he was prepared to handle the implications of what he'd just done. He'd kissed Urianger. His friend — maybe his best friend, and certainly one of his oldest. One of the few bright spots in the chaos and strife of this other world. And Thancred had just up and kissed him on a whim, knowing full well that Urianger wasn't the type to just up and ask for something like that. That alone should have been clue enough to slow things down, but no, he'd let his selfish desires get in the way and put their whole friendship on the line.

He should have expected he'd react badly. And yet... he couldn’t stop thinking about the way Urianger had responded. The way his hands hand curled into Thancred’s hair, and his lips had parted beneath his. The way Urianger had pushed into him, needy and hungry. The way he'd proved that he was just as good a student when it came to physical study as with literary. Thal's balls, that had been one hell of a kiss.

And despite everything, somehow Thancred couldn't find it in himself to regret it. It had been everything he had ever— No, it had been better than he could have imagined, tender and sweet in a way he... hadn't ever really experienced before. Thancred had kissed more people than he'd bothered to keep track of, and yet none had ever held him so gently, or melted so thoroughly into him. It had been awkward at first, but even that had been cute: the way Urianger had been stiff against him, unyielding and uncertain, and slowly opened up before him. The tentative way he'd responded, growing bolder and pressing forward. Gods, the sounds that he had made. A scene that would linger in Thancred’s memory for many days and many, many nights, he was sure.

Augh. He flopped back against the bed, dragging his hands roughly through his hair. Urianger’s scent still clung to the sheets, billowing up around him like some cruel and peculiar punishment. What was he supposed to do now? Should he chase him down? That stood a heavy chance of backfiring, he thought. Maybe all Urianger needed was some space, to put his thoughts in order. Or maybe he never wanted to see Thancred again, and he should gather his things and plan to move on with Minfilia before everything got too awkward to bear.

No... If Urianger needed some space, Thancred could give him some space. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to react if Urianger came back and wanted to pretend the whole thing had never happened, but that was— a problem for another time. Thancred was good at lying, to himself as much as to others. He could pretend, if Urianger wanted to pretend. Probably.

Yeah, because you've been doing such a great job at that the past few weeks. He shoved aside the thought. With a groan, he hauled himself back up to a seated position. Wallowing here wasn't going to help anything.

His gaze snagged on the glittering pile of chains on the dresser across the bed, Urianger's robe folded neatly beside them. Twelve, please tell me he at least brought his astroglobe with him. If he were out there alone and at the mercy of whatever vicious fae creatures wished to take a bite out of him.... But no, surely even in the heat of the moment, he was smarter than that. No matter how distraught he was, he'd come back if he were at risk of running into trouble, right?

Right. Thancred was just looking for an excuse to go chase him down. With a frustrated groan, he gained his feet. Better to get dressed and find something to do with himself rather than sit here dwelling on it. Thinking about it was only going to make it worse.

It was amazing how many meaningless tasks you could find for yourself when you really really didn't want to think. The house had never been so clean: baseboards dusted, windows washed, books organized (he was sure he was going to hear about that one later, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time). Thancred’s muscles burned with the strain of a lengthy workout, and the scent of yeast clung to the inside of his nose as he punched down a bulbous ball of dough.

It was also amazing how much thinking you could do when you had nothing better to focus on than dust and soap. He couldn’t stop his mind from spinning, the world around him seeming at once too small and overly large. He had half a mind to go out for a run, just to escape these walls that seemed to press in on him from every side, but he feared that the second he set foot outside, his feet would take him to hunt down Urianger whether it was his intention or not. No. He would let Urianger come to him, as he’d resolved himself to do. He'd come back eventually. He had to. It was his house.

Minfilia lingered at the edges of his vision all day long, just close enough to grate on his nerves but far enough away that Thancred knew it wasn't warranted. Only once had she ventured closer, watching him timidly with those baleful blue eyes as she asked, "Is... everything alright, Mr. Thancred?"

"Everything's fine." A grunt as he drove his knuckles into the dough, digging into its soft flesh. It wasn't half so cathartic as it should have been.

"Oh..." Thancred thought she might be smart and drop it, but after a moment's hesitation she continued. "Where did Mr. Urianger go this morning?"

"Out."

Her hands wrung themselves in front of her, twisting the end of her skirt nervously. Thancred lifted his eyes to her face, and something in his gaze made her quail, shrinking back from him and edging towards the door. "Oh..." Her eyes dropped quickly to the floor.

He turned back to his dough, and the quick patter of her footsteps told him she'd fled the moment he looked away. Damn it, she hadn't deserved that. He'd have to apologize to her later. For once, his bad mood wasn't related to her in any way — though he couldn't help but wonder what his Minfilia would have to say about this situation if she were here. She'd always been good at advice, whether he wanted to hear it or not. Hells.

Instead, he punched his distress out into his dough, and waited for Urianger to come home.

[Chapter 12]

[Kofi/Commissions]

#ffxiv #thanuri #urithan #thancred #urianger #thancred waters #urianger augurelt #ffxiv fanfiction #my writing #first for everything #~k

[reikane-enthusiast]

erm, a compiled list of all the notes I have on paper and all the notes in my brain for an upcoming..project.

(( TECHNICALLY THIS ENTIRE POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE DRA DEATHS..BUT. I don’t specify anything ))

gameplay notes..but I can’t code :

from hours 8 AM to 11 PM no anomalies will or can occur. ( unless glitched )

12:00 PM exact is lunchtime and is the only time when other students can appear in the library. Lunchtime can also have a triggered cut scene of either of the two ( image under writing but not here for sillies ) sitting with *.

Once the distraction meter ( during daytime only ) gets to middle point * will have the ability to ‘shoo’ or just get the distraction away. ( this will trigger the dialogue of “ get out, I’m studying. “ )

a distraction is a student outside of the library either trying to form a conversation with * , talking at her, or being ‘loud’. Certain students will not do normal actions, but have special dialogue instead.

if the distraction meter fills all the way up, * will get up and yell at the distraction / student. This will cause a game over.

during 12 AM to 8 AM anomalies will occur.

what are anomalies? :

Short : corpses

Long : Manifestations of *’s PTSD, possibly ghosts?..but that’s unlikely. They’re also kind of like hallucinations however *SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER*

anomalies :

( no data found for #1. )

#2, (( she really only hangs from the ceiling and is..almost non lethal. She cries out for help a lot, for someone to save her, for her brother…I’ll have to tell him sometime, not now though. Maybe it’s her ghostly wails or whatever that kills me..

#3,(( I..don’t remember what happened to her but I don’t really want to, she’s only ever in the hallways..running. I can hear her. Is it the sound? Maybe.. Maybe it’s the ringing in my ears.

#4 (( you were a bitch. However..I..don’t think you deserved that. She sits next to me a lot. I can smell the blood and the metal. She wouldn’t be dangerous if she didn’t kill with her touch, however, unfortunately she does.

#5 (( He’s on the walls, literally. and of course the wood is rotting. His blood always finds its way to me somehow, it works like acid once it hits me.

#6 (( This one is barely threatening, I think he’s just upset. He doesn’t try to hurt me , I know that, but whenever he gets close to me it hurts. It’s like I’m being repeatedly stabbed in the neck.

#7 (( I can hear her screams, constantly. I can hear the electric shocks. She reaches out her hand and then it’s just.. pain. The shocks..she’s sharing them. like the other one..she’s not trying to hurt me actively. none of them are, really.

#8 (( Idiot.. that doesn’t feel right to say though. You were stupid, but in that trial..you were just so— … She doesn’t seem sad unlike the others, she sits next to me too..trying to make me laugh. But when I look at her..when I finally see her face again..it’s over.

#9 (( You were also stupid. I knew what you were hiding, but outing you wouldn’t make me feel better. You were..kind of gross, but trying to fit in wasn’t easy..was it? I’m sorry you went out that way. Sometimes him and * are together, I can’t look at them either..despite how happy it appears they are together. Even if it was just a facade he needed to keep up during that time, I think they’re better off because they’re actual friends now.

#10 (( The blood from her mouth and her eyes gets on me even though shes far away, it seeps into my skin, her words seep into my brain..my own blood..everything. I’m sorry *. Sometimes she stands over me. Watching my every move..then the blood really hurts.

#11 (( I didn’t know you then, I didn’t remember you then, but now I do. You were a good brother from what I heard. I remember how * talked about you, how she was always wondering about your inventions.. I know you pushed her away when you guys were kids too. I can hear you making fun of her somehow, teasing her, bullying her around.. and it burns my ears sometimes. I don’t know how I hear it..but..it’s something to hold on to. He never shows up visually, but I feel his presence. I’ve never..seen you.

#0 (( She’s the closest to me always, she only shows up in the end. She grabs me by the face and forces me to look at her, shes crying..she’s grinning too though. ..But she doesn’t look injured, dead, none of that. I don’t think we ever confirmed she was dead, we just assumed she had drowned or bled out because that made the most sense. But now that I think of it, maybe you aren’t.

#0.1 (( *’s not really an anomaly..since..he can’t hurt me and he’s not dead. He’s more like protection. He keeps the actual anomalies away , I don’t really know how.. I guess **** made it up so that I could finally study.

extras! ,, based on the unused executions. :

#12 (( I remember watching you die. I thought it was kind of funny how you went out, getting arrested and all. Then you blew up.. that was..less funny. He smells like sulfur and ash..sometimes cement, sometimes he smells like burnt plastic. when he touches me it burns my flesh, I guess he wants me to feel the pain too.

#13 (( He’s connected by veins , almost like a fleshy spider. His blood unlike *’s isn’t acidic, but is definitely venomous. I hate looking at him, but it’s the only way to keep him away. I’ve only ever had one question.. Why? , Why’d you do it *? You were an idiot..but I didn’t think you were that afraid..and that fucking stupid. Then again, we we’re kids..so..I can’t entirely blame you for letting your fear take over.

#sora.txt ( 🫧 #possible DRA spoilers #spoilers #I have a ‘mutual’ ( person I’ve talked to ) who’s currently on chpt 3 I don’t wanna spoil it for them!!

[reina-royale]

The most frustrating thing about Kim is how she's immune to criticism. Her apologies are almost always met with the other person apologizing, even when they shouldn't have to.

"But Kim apologizes and learns her lesson! She grows and matures past those things! It's not fair to hold it against her forever!"

Does she? Let's review:

"Bueno Nacho" - Apologizes for getting mad at Ron for outshining her at the job. Not for forging an application for him or guilting him into taking the job in the first place.

Bonus: This is the first of Kim's apologies, and she consistently apologizes for the most minor transgression of the episode, ignoring all the other ones.

"Attack of the Killer Bebes" - Says she'll support Ron because he's her best friend, but doesn't actually apologize.

"The New Ron" - Apologizes for saying Ron needs a new haircut. Not for forcing him into one. Not for not caring how much he hated it. Not for stealing his hat. Not for humiliating him. Tries to throw in a lesson at the end that it's what's on the inside that counts, ignoring that fact that she was the one who forced him to change in the first place.

Bonus: Once again, Kim only apologizes for the most minor transgression.

Bonus+: There's a scene where Kim gets mad at Ron for "abandoning" Rufus, but, having watched the episode recently, I can say that's not what happened; Ron, despite not having pockets, still carried Rufus around with him, Rufus wandered off on his own. Ron probably wasn't too worried because Rufus does that frequently. And he does gently chastise Rufus for wandering off anyways. Thus, Kim's anger at Ron was not justified, and likely just because she was looking for an excuse.

"Coach Possible" - Never actually apologizes for driving her brothers' soccer team so hard they cry. Doesn't apologize, but does get fired from a job she didn't want in the first place, and mopes about it.

"October 31st" - Doesn't apologize for the lying or putting other people in danger. Doesn't acknowledge that she was putting other people in danger.

Bonus: How would Monique's family react to finding out one of Monique's party guests destroyed their garage door? Probably not happy, and banning Kim from their property until she can pay off the replacement wouldn't seem unreasonable.

Bonus+: I doubt the people asking Kim to retrieve the Centurion Project would've been happy to find out how it got stuck to her in the first place. I imagine Kim would be getting much fewer retrieval jobs after that.

"The Twin Factor" - Doesn't apologize for using mind control on her brothers. Tries to justify it and, though her parents clearly disapprove, isn't punished for it.

"The Ron Factor" - This would have been a great episode about Kim learning she takes Ron for granted and apologizing, but instead, despite doing practically nothing in this episode, she still has credit handed to her.

Bonus: The Global Justice scientists said the results of their study into "The Ron Factor" were complete and that Ron was a non-factor, but there's a movie about how Ron is vital to Kim's success, so clearly this is false. Perhaps they meant they couldn't replicate it?

"Adventures in Rufus-Sitting" - Lies to Ron about how it went watching Rufus. Doesn't apologize for not taking it seriously. Doesn't apologize for accidentally endangering Rufus. Just lies to him about how it went.

Bonus: My sister has mentioned to me that how someone treats a pet says a lot about how they view the pet's owner. So Kim's treatment of Rufus says a lot about her opinion of Ron.

"Return to Wannaweep" - Doesn't apologize for not taking Ron's concerns seriously or sabotaging Bonnie. Even Dr. Lurkin apologizes for not taking Ron's concerns seriously. And then Ron tries to give a lesson about how if Bonnie and Kim weren't so busy competing with each other, one of them could have won the Spirit Stick, as though Kim and Bonnie are equally to blame for it.

Bonus: Someone who hasn't known Ron as long as Kim has, has enough respect for Ron to apologize to him, when Kim consistently fails to do so.

"Bonding" - Apologizes to Bonnie for an unintentional comment about Bonnie's weight, quicker than she's ever apologized to Ron, and more sincerely as well.

Bonus: Despite not actually intending to insult Bonnie, Kim still has enough respect for her to apologize. More than she usually does for Ron, her "best friend".

"Fashion Victim" - Apologizes to Monique for being jealous, but not the things she did that could have cost Monique her future in the fashion industry.

Bonus: If Monique was hassling Kim to break an NDA and trying to get a tech guy to find a loophole so she could, would we think Monique should be forgiven so easily?

And consistently doesn't apologize to Ron for dismissing his fears, concerns, and feelings.

So, Kim apologizing to Ron is very rare, almost non-existent.

It's been mentioned to me that some relationships don't require explicit apologies or that love means never having to say you're sorry.

I say that's stupid.

If you care about someone, and you hurt them, you should want to apologize and make things right. Even if it seems like you don't need to say it, you should still show you're remorseful in some way.

And Kim doesn't.

#kim possible #ron stoppable #rufus #wade #bonnie rockwaller #monique #jim possible #tim possible #meta #character analysis