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grapejuicestyless · 7 months

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can you do a conrad fic based on sad, beautiful, tragic by t.s.?

Sad, Beautiful, Tragic.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n is young, naive but not stupid. Conrad had made one too many empty promises for even her to continue believing.

My feet stood cemented on the pavement, stuck to the grounds that lingered in deadly details of him, but never us. Not now, not ever.

I felt like an idiot, showing up now, so late. A random autumn night in Boston. The streets in the city still bustling with life, longing for the scents of pumpkin spice and apple cider. The further into the suburbs you drove, the quieter it grew. The trees became plentiful, black streets becoming canvases of orange and yellow.

We weren’t right. It was obvious. Laurel reprimanded me for this, my great attempts to salvage what little we had left between us. A dwindling flame, a broken glass spilling wine across a pearl white table cloth. She called me a fool, too blinded by what I wanted to work so badly in my head that I refused what was being presented right in front of me.

His snide remarks with his school friends, all much smarter than I. They knew it. I was never a prodigy, a prospect, gifted. Each dig was minor, easily brushed away like dust on the pages of a forgotten story page. But Conrad always had a way with his words, a tongue that made even the kindest comments come out like daggers. Backhanded and cruel, aimed at the naive.

Gullible was never written on the ceiling yet each time he smiled and pointed I looked. I was a scarlet thread, wrapped tightly around his thumb.

When the door opened, Susannah greeted me with a sad smile. Her eyes spoke a thousand sentences, pleading for me to leave, walk away while I still could. But Conrad had promised, promised that if I just gave him one more chance it would be different.

And I believed him. I believed him because when I met him, he was a good man. Shy, sweet, observant. He was charming, and god he was always handsome. The Conrad I fell for never lied to me. If we disagreed, it was quickly resolved.

Now it seemed like each phone call was just another nail in the coffin. Another reason flying by, red flags blowing in the wind begging me to follow, to leave. It was walking on eggshells, fragile. I was clumsy and they broke. I sit alone in my room sometimes, phone beeping to its death, hanging off my shoulder and I forget. I forget all the reasons I am fighting, what I am fighting for.

But then he comes back, just like he always does. A vicious cycle. He throws daggers at my deepest hurts, freshest wounds to have the pleasure to watch me crumble within his grasp. And when I’m too weak to stand, he lifts me back up. Suddenly, my stomach aches, I want to throw up. It’s bubbling up my throat, the guilt is eating at me until I am nothing. How could I ever even forget how wonderful this man is to me, how could I ever want to leave? I wipe my memory of all the nights I spend crying on the floor. We never speak of it, what we’re doing, but the guilty look in his eyes tells me he knows. We both do. I sleep on the floor for another week, I can’t move. I am paralyzed by my heavy heart, a locket around my neck. It’s golden, decorated in whimsical swirls. A picture of Conrad stays with me always, I clench in my fist. I want to rip it off, watch the chain scatter. It weighs me down, I can barely breathe.

I am a good girl, I don’t fight. I stay quiet while Conrad fights himself. I don’t buy into his attempts to work me up anymore. I know that with him, with us, we are destined to see storms. I know better now that once they pass, the sky will clear and the tragedy of it all will fade away. So I wait. I always wait for that moment of clarity. I refuse to think when I’m so worked up.

It’s sad, and it’s beautiful and oh so tragic, the way we dance around each other. How hours ago I was standing outside his door, regretting my naivety, trying to salvage us. Now I sit in his living room, waiting for him with my legs crossed. The melodic ticking of the clock alerts me of the time. I’m cold, my nose is rosy. I let the house capture me in its warm blanket. A sacred place of safety, I smell Susannah, I smell my mother. I see Belly’s old pictures on the wall in frames and Stevens gifts to Jeremiah and Conrad.

“Y/n/n, hey.” His voice is airy, lips pressed to my temple. I didn’t even hear him coming in the deafening ringing of silence in my ears. My eyes shift to his face, but I cannot move.

“Hi Con.” My voice is coarse, tired. It’s so late, my eyes hurt from being open so long. His arms wrap around me as the couch dips beside my thighs. He’s so warm, so gentle now, I find myself drifting away again. Getting lost in the calm, I forget about how devastating the storm was. I haven’t even picked up all my discarded pieces yet. Somehow, I manage to keep giving away more and more, even now. I am not sure how I can afford this.

Our conversation is warm, long. He talks about school and I talk about mine. With us being alone, I miss any snide comments or judgmental stares. He is so much kinder without the influence of others. He is almost the same man I grew up loving.

“You’ll still visit me, won’t you?” He pleads innocently. The look in his eyes is genuine, I almost crumble. A sharp intake of air is stuck in my throat, my brain becomes re-wired.

I remember the sad looks from Susannah, the fights with my mother. I remember how disappointed Belly was when I left again. How Steven yelled and fought until I was gone. Everyone in my life sees it in a bad light and I still managed to miss it.

Suddenly the golden chain around my neck feels heavy again. It hurts my skin, it’s burning the back of my neck. I hold it in my hand, it’s still heavy in my palm.

“Y/n?” His hand is on my thigh, I can’t breathe. My chest heaves, my throat is burning. There’s a lump stuck in my throat. It’s expanding and my eyes hurt. I’m tired, I’m sick, I’m sad.

Standing up, his hands drop from my lap. I close my eyes so I don’t have to look at him anymore. I can feel my lip quivering while I suck in a harsh breath. My eyebrows are furrowed, fists clenched.

“Y/n, hey, baby…” He cooed at me, palm pressing to my cheek. I am inconsolable, irrevocably damaged. Too lost in our beauty to remember the tragedy, the sadness that defines us. That is us.

“Conrad, I’m leaving.” It comes out sticky. Quiet other than my sniffles and his breathing.

“You just got here, did…have I done something?” I feel his hands slip down to my elbows. He holds me in place son the carpet. It hurts, not because he’s holding too tight, but because his touch burns.

“No, Conrad.” My eyes open, I search his blue ones. I get lost in our deep they are, collecting my thoughts. I feel trapped.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t. If I stay any longer I’m afraid I won’t ever leave.” His face is blank until it isn’t. It’s shifting, contorting into something that looks incredibly confused, pained.

“What, what are you saying?” His voice is less calm now, raising. Not quiet reaching the level of desperation I can see building inside of him already.

“It’s a cycle, Con, can’t you see it? We’re toxic and it’s sick because we are the ones letting it be this way. We fight but we never talk. You promise me you’ll get better but you never do! I’m tired of trying to be alright when I’m around you! You don’t make me feel good.” It’s off my chest, yet he hasn’t comprehended any of it.

“Y/n, please. We can work through it, right? I love you, I do. Please just, please. I love you, you have to love me. It doesn’t just go away like that, I love you.” He’s crying now. His blue eyes clouded in a dark overcast. He makes me feel guilty. All self respect I have is gone, and suddenly I’m back in his arms.

My head finds its place on his shoulder, I tuck my face into his neck. Not to be close, but because I feel to ashamed to show it after falling so quickly under his mind games.

Silently, I agree with him. Of course I still love him, I always will. So I stay, a fool who got so close, but remained so far away. He presses another kiss to the side of my head and tells me I won’t regret it. When I wake up alone in his bed, cold the next morning, I know I’ve been blinded to another empty promise. It’s so hard to stay when he’s mean, but it’s even harder when he’s sweet. So I pack my things quietly and leave. I won’t visit him at school. Not until he comes home will we see each other again.

Oddly enough, the thought doesn’t drain me. I don’t dread never seeing him for weeks on end. I don’t regret not choosing somewhere closer to get an education simply to be near him. I am relieved he will be gone. My heart keeps beating.

It’s barely a month before I’m stood back in front of him. Only now the carpet is cold cement and his living room is the train tracks. He is in Boston, he’ll never leave. He tries his hardest to get me to stay. He’s the nicest I’ve ever seen him. He’s persuasive, but in our time apart he doesn’t know I see it less as a genuine feeling from him and more as a twisted tactic of manipulation.

“We can settle down, we’re almost out of college. Just me and you and it’ll be great. If you’d only give us another chance.” He pleads, hands not yet on my skin, but he’s so close. I can feel his warm breath on my skin.

“I don’t want that anymore, Conrad.” I try to be kind about it, I try and blame my distance on myself. It is me who is trying so desperately to break things off. He’ll never know it was his cold heart that shattered our beautiful love. But it’s helpless, he won’t stop.

“Then we’ll travel the world. Y/n, I don’t care, I just want to be with you!” He tries again. Yet all his words are the exact same. He’s not even trying to understand me, I feel like screaming.

“No, no.” I reaffirm. I won’t look at him because it hurts me too much. I know if I look at him I’ll stay again. My chest is closing in on me, I can’t help but reach to hold onto it. My pinky grazes the same locket when I do. It’s dainty, but gorgeous. There’s stacks of photos within it. Mostly of Conrad, but a few of my family underneath.

“I’m not understanding, Y/n. I don’t get it?” He’s desperate, the train is coming. Once it pulls up to the platform, if he hasn’t convinced me one last time to stay, I’ll be forever gone. It’s the final fight, we can feel it.

“All we do is fight, Conrad. I can’t fight anymore. I tried to end it earlier and you promised me it would work out, it would stop but it hasn’t! And I can’t do it anymore.” My hands rest on the bends of his elbows. I hold him close, I look into his eyes finally, I want him to understand me, I beg for him to understand me.

“Then let me fix it. Let me make it better, Y/n. Anything, I’ll do anything I just can’t-don’t walk away.” My pleads are deaf on his ears. He doesn’t care about what I want, and it’s apparent now that he never did. He’s selfish, so he only takes. He wants me but he hates to have to deal with me.

“Conrad, stop!” He’s ranting, my voice is loud over his. A few people turn their heads. It’s so late in the evening, they’re only passing. Ready to go home.

My eyes shift around until everyone has gone back to their own business. The breath that leave my chest is heavy, harsh but quick.

“Please, Con. Please just try and listen to me.” My voice is breaking. Not because my leaving is breaking my heart, but because I am tired. I am tired of staying, of being so weak. I am wasting my youth on a boy who hasn’t matured yet. I deserve more, I crave it.

“There’s no amount of fixing either of us could do to mend whatever’s happened between us. We lost it a long time ago. And I’ll always love you, how could I not? You’re everything to me. But you’re not mine anymore, and I can’t be yours.” My hands slip from his skin to my chest. I try an even out my breathing, again I am reminded of my necklace. It feels wrong to still wear his picture around my neck when I’ve already let him go.

Unclasping it slowly, I let the gold gather in my palm. It’s warm from where it touched my skin. It’s rusting form how often it’s been worn, and my neck feels lighter. I ball up my fist, taking his hand over my other one steadily.

When he feels the warmth mixing with the coolness of the pendant, I can see him giving up. He nods, swallowing hard.

When the train comes, I wave goodbye to him one last time. He’s frozen, hand still holding the locket out and eyes still sad. I wonder how long he’ll stay there, I never see him move even as the train pulls away from the station.

………………………………………………………………………………….

The whirring of the train passing is accompanied by the occasional blowing of its horn. It’s deafening against the heavy silence that’s consumed me. There’s not even a crunch of a leaf to break it. Now that she’s gone, it’s settled in how I’m truly alone. I’ve blown it.

I wait for her to be out of sight. The caboose nothing more than a small speck in the horizon. The moon is high, the wind is chilling. It’s nearly winter in Boston, yet the weather is no where near as cold as my bones. I curl my fingers over her locket, bringing my knuckles to my lips, I breathe over it.

It doesn’t even smell like her. It’s a sad souvenir of pity. She didn’t want me, I’m certain she only gave it to me because she didn’t want a reminder of me either.

I stuff it into my pocket slowly, fingers feeling around the rough cotton of my pants. It sits snug at the bottom of it, right beside the long, handwritten note I prepared for her.

I knew I had my own demons, I know I was a mess. I treated her horribly, I gambled away our love. But this time I was serious. I wanted to fix it. I wanted to make it better.

My words meant little to nothing now. There were no amount of promises I could make when I was already too late.

#tsitp conrad #conrad x reader #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher #taylor swift #sadbeautifultragic #conrad fisher x reader #conrad x you #team conrad #conrad fisher x you #olivia rodrigo picks between summer i turned pretty&039;s conrad and jeremiah #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher fluff #conrad

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jamdoughnutmagician · 1 year

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Paint It Black.

Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count:676

Summary:You show Eddie just how metal it is to paint your nails.

Warnings:Nothing, unless you count badly written fluff as a warning?

Authour’s Note:I guess I just wanted to write something cute and fluffy with Eddie since I don’t write fluff like this all too often?

Eddie struggled to concentrate on his guitar, where he was supposed to be learning a new song for Corroded Coffin, however his attention had been completely diverted to where you were sat on his bedroom floor admiring your freshly dried manicured nails. You had painted your fingers in a vivid shade of red, an enticing colour that had certainly caught his eye.

“Looks pretty, Sugar” he tells you from where he’s sat on bed.

“Thanks, Teddy” you beamed back at him.

Eddie smiled back at you, hearing the pet name slip from your pretty lips. He’d swear he was a tough guy in front of all his friends, but one mention of the nickname from you and he was putty in your hands.

You noticed how Eddie was still eyeing your freshly painted nails with curiosity.

“Hey, Teddy..” you catch his attention, pulling from his thoughts.

“Yeah, Sugar?” he says, smiling your way.

“Do you want me to paint your nails too?” You offer.

“Are you sure? Isn’t that like..weird or whatever?” he worries, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Doesn’t have to be..anyway most of those metal rock stars you admire so much wear nail polish too” you chuckled.

“..Even Ozzy?”

“Yes Eddie, even Ozzy” you assured him with a smile.

You see him go over it in his brain, his big brown hold an uncertain expression. You decide he needed an extra nudge. A little reassurance.

“Come on Ed! Give me your hand! I can paint them and you can see how you like it, and if you really don’t like it we can take it off, no harm done!”

“Alright then!” his lips spread into that cheeky smile that you’ve come to love so much.

You bring up a small bottle of Black nail polish from your little bag of nail polish colours.

“I think that this Black shade will be the perfect colour for you, Teddy” you say as you crack open the bottle.

You take his large hand in yours and begin swiping the dark polish across his fingertips.

“Stop fidgeting Eddie!! It’s gonna smudge!” you warned him.

“Okay okay! I’ll stay still, I promise, Sweetheart.”

You finish painting his one hand before taking his other hand in yours. You start to paint the polish carefully over the nails of his other hand, making sure to give each nail an even coat of the black paint.

“Do you know you do that?” he chuckles.

“Do what?” you look back up at him, in the middle of painting his index finger.

“Stick your tongue out when you’re concentrating.” he tells you.

“I do not do that!” you defend.

“Babe, you just did it, right there. It’s okay..I think it’s cute”a slight giggle escapes his lips

“Don’t make me laugh, Ed! I told you, you’re going to smudge my paint-job!”

“Sorry, Sugar.” his big brown eyes soften as he looks at you.

You finish up, swiping the final coat of black polish over his pinky finger, grinning up at him.

“There we go! All finished! What do you think?” you ask with a smile.

He looks over his nails, examining them in great detail before breaking out into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen

“I love them babe! Looks super metal! Thank you so much!”

—-------------------------

Eddie strolled into the cafeteria the next day, setting his lunch box down on the table amongst all the other members of Hellfire.

“You go to the salon to get them done or what?” Gareth jokes, poking fun at the dungeon master.

“My girl did them, got a problem with that Emerson?”

“I happen to think it looks very metal indeed.” you say smugly as you sit down next to Eddie.

Eddie glared down at Gareth, daring him to say anything about him or his girl.

“Yeah, no, totally, very metal.” Gareth agreed, backing down.

Eddie smiled at you. He would proudly wear his painted nails everyday, it was a reminder of the sweet gesture of you offering to paint them, and it warmed his heart.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson drabble

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paellegere · 3 days

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final thoughts: supernatural season 15

holy shit. i did it. i finished supernatural. i actually finished it a couple hours ago but i'm still having trouble processing it. i've been working at this for six months (but with a one-month break back in december) and i'm finally finished. honestly i don't think i really believed i would do it because shit this show is long, and i am not predisposed to enjoy shows like this. so this is a huge mark of pride for me, that i can finally say i did indeed sit down and watch all 327 episodes of supernatural :)

anyway all that to say i hated this season with a passion lmao, hasta la vista baby ✨

honestly i think i'll end up keeping this short because frankly most of my criticisms boil down to

how did you fuck up your own lore this badly

holy plotholes batman

this is so disrespectful and irreverent toward kripke's supernatural

nothing about this writing makes any kind of sense

well, that's convenient (in the most boring way imaginable)

so it's basically just a game of spin the wheel and see what it lands on.

the season started super weak; the concept was bad from the get-go and executed only to a mediocre standard, so i couldn't help but cringe my way through it. rowena's death was really well done, but her character was never well developed, in the same way most side characters on this show are never well developed, so while i appreciate the care that went into that scene it felt rather empty. it made me regret how poorly and inconsistently written she was. and yeah most side characters get this treatment—hell, cas gets this treatment which is why i don't care about him much—but she had such a provocative death scene that it had me lamenting that she didn't get a better foundation and better development. alas, that's just what it means to be someone other than sam and dean on supernatural.

after that was... the eileen subplot. i do really like eileen despite her being a rather flat and uninteresting character the way most women are on this show (y'know, kickass independent "girl power" women without nearly any other significant personality trait), but i really didn't appreciate the substantial pivot sam took from dean-focused to eileen-focused in this season. yes, season 12-14 did go to great efforts to make sure this wasn't The Sam And Dean Show anymore, but season 15 is so dramatically incongruous from even 12-14 that it just boggled my mind. the sam/eileen stuff was a major part of that, and it just didn't feel good because it was one more nail in the coffin with regards to how little the showrunners respected the foundation of the show (y'know, "the epic love story of sam and dean"). the only real salmondean moment in the entire season was the 7-minute incest speech in the finale—like what? i couldn't even properly enjoy that because of how poorly it was set up, thanks to the four seasons of retconning their relationship and making it less important to the series overall.

anyway all that to say, they had this massive sam/eileen subplot and then nothing even came of it. sam didn't even call to check if she was alive after jack resurrected everyone? he didn't meet up with her on screen even once? like if you're going to give him this season-long romance with someone other than dean, you could at least have the balls to commit to it. i find that just. godawful writing. eileen didn't have to be sam's blurry wife or anything, but he should have had some kind of resolution, literally anything at all, if we're meant to believe she's in any way important to him. c'mon.

more incongruous moments: dean got weirdly angry in this season. like what's with episode 17 man? there is nothing about dean in that episode that feels even remotely in character. from "jack's not family" to dean pulling a gun on sam, it all felt wildly overblown, way too melodramatic and sudden, and just not anything dean would do. yeah he's an angry guy, but???? this was too much, even for him. and the whole jack argument between sam and dean made me roll my eyes hard. because how do you expect me to believe that after all of the developments up to that point, that

dean wouldn't consider jack family. first of all that's stupid, dean drops the f-bomb on literally anyone he thinks is useful to further his goals. second of all it contradicts the bond they've formed since season 13, and it no longer fits with the parallel themes set up between sam, dean, and jack. it undermines what's been established, what's been developed, and what jack means to them on a thematic level. so so so stupid. cannot stress how dumb this move was. it just felt like the writers pulling out yet another OOC moment just so they can conveniently move the plot in the direction they wanted. so annoying.

sam and cas are equals in dean's eyes. like that's just hilarious to me. the last time cas died dean got sad for a little bit and burned his body on a pyre. the last time sam died dean committed suicide. these are not equal reactions. and sam and cas have never been equal to dean because dean always chooses sam over everyone, again evidenced in the series finale. so it was just hilarious for this one episode to pretend like sam and cas could ever be equal.

of course season 15 did really push a destiel agenda in the most unexpected and bizarre way. like wow, and i thought seasons 12-14 were a totally different show. no, season 15 is so much worse than that. i have absolutely no idea why they made the choices they did with this season, but they were not good, they routinely disrespected kripke's foundations of the show, and they ignored every theme ever laid out up until then. all for... what, exactly? so dean and cas can have a weird little non-romance together for 18 episodes only for them to slip wincest back in at the end? what's up with that? no like seriously, what were they trying to do here????

i told my friend this earlier, but i do think it's funny how cas's death speech is just straight-up factually incorrect regarding dean. i'm 100% fully willing to believe that castiel was blinded with lust by dean winchester that he simply made up some guy in his head who looked like dean. and that will be my headcanon going forth because wow it's shocking and funny as hell how much he got wrong while waxing poetic about dean. "you're the most selfless man i know" when kripke spent 5 seasons pounding it into our heads how fundamentally selfish dean (and sam, obviously, but the speech is about dean) is. girl what are you saying. dick so good he rewrote dean's basic character traits to be more convenient to him. i respect it truly i do.

anyway the finale. i hated it! to absolutely no one's surprise. a few days ago i wrote out what i thought would have been the most thematically cogent endings for supernatural. i knew what actually happens, obviously (hard to miss tbh), but my resolve on this front was only strengthened by actually watching it. yes the 7 minutes of incest were very nice and compelling, but... wow. this episode has some of the worst pacing i've ever seen in my life. dean died halfway into the episode? and the rest of that was... a sequence of short scenes that are too drawn-out to be a montage??? like there was no tension, no buildup, and no setup for what they did. it felt so lazy and underdeveloped, lacking any kind of poignancy or thematic cohesion. and then i had to watch TWENTY MINUTES of half-baked scenes of dean in heaven and sam growing old. i wouldn't have hated this ending so much if they had better pacing, i'm serious. like the outrage i feel is predominantly because of how badly it was written. the concepts aren't good, but they were par for the course. but TWENTY MINUTES OF MONTAGE. A MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH WITH NO EMOTIONAL BUILDUP, WHICH ACTIVELY CONTRADICTS THE THEMES OF THE SHOW. WHAT!!!!!!! WERE THEY THINKING!!!!!!!!!!

anyway i disliked that a little bit.

so overall i pretty much hated every part of this season and there were very, very, very few redeeming features sprinkled in. it's fine though! i'm fine. it's all over now :)

a few brief thoughts on the series overall: i regret ever speaking badly of kripke's supernatural; i didn't know how good i had it until it was gone. in hindsight, a lot of the seasons i thought were dogshit were actually not the worst things ever—i just didn't realize how bad bad could get. i know now. i will carry that knowledge with me forever.

dramatics aside, i honestly did enjoy watching the show. as much as i hated so many of the writing choices, the plotholes, the retcons, the way the writers just handwaved away anything inconvenient and rewrote characters entirely just to force them into the story they way they wanted them—it was still, like, fun. the agony was enjoyable (things masochists say). i think it helps that the fandom at large generally agrees that the writing is bad; it gives a sense of community and solidarity in the misery. there's no uneasy disconnect between myself and the rest of the fanbase, and that honestly does make all the difference. it's fun to suffer together, and i don't regret watching this show one bit :)

so with that said, here's my final ranking for every season:

season 1 (thematically strong, tight writing, incredible vision, truly foundational in its establishment of overarching themes, tone, and genre)

season 2 (such an interesting plot which builds on what was established in season 1. this is where the meat of the show is, where the heart is exposed to daylight as the chest is ripped open)

season 3 (well written, though disappointing in some areas largely due to kripke dropping the special children plot thus leaving a hole. not very noticeable due to the good writing, but still there. i'll never forgive them for killing off henricksen)

season 4 (this is the first real drop in quality imo, but it's relatively insignificant. the writing feels more meandering, and the tone shifts rather drastically away from the horror of its origin. the introduction of angels destroys a lot of the religious anxiety that formed the foundation of the show, but at the same time introduces a fantastic story about fate and doom)

season 5 (same as season 4, but with the flaws a bit more glaring. castiel's unclear motivations and underdeveloped shift in perspective are a major point of contention for me; i don't think it was handled well and could have been written better to make him a stronger character from the get-go, possibly allowing him to be a better character in later seasons instead of the conflicting mess we ended up with)

season 9 (the writing is atrocious, but the vision is so good. i still don't know how they managed that. they had such a great idea and they took kripke's supernatural and expanded on it in such a satisfying way. it drove me crazy! but holy shit the actual writing is so bad)

season 8 (i feel largely the same about 8 as i do 9, but i just think the writing was overall worse. it does get brownie points for having benny in it, though)

season 10 (boring. boring and paced so, so, so badly. the sole redeeming feature was how committed it was to its vision. it has the exact opposite problem as season 6 in that it has too little content to fill out the season. but god, the vision. you'll hear me waxing poetic about the season 8-10 vision on my death bed)

season 7 (it did a lot to pave the road for seasons 8-10 which i can't ignore. it also got itself fairly settled after the mess season 6 was and didn't try to bite off more than it could chew. i didn't love it, but it had a lot of moments that were provocative and interesting, and it provided pretty good setup for season 8. the writing was not good, but i think that goes without saying)

season 6 (introduced really interesting ideas, but tried to cram so much into one season that it failed to deliver satisfying payoffs for any of its setup. soulless sam was an interesting exception and really redeemed it for me)

season 12 (12 and 13 are about equal for me because i hate the plots, i hate the intense diversion away from The Sam And Dean Show, i hate the writing, i hate the concepts, etc etc. but they both introduce supporting characters which show off new and interesting sides to sam and dean: mary in 12 and jack in 13. it allows for focus to stay on sam and dean's relationship a little longer even though they're no longer generating any organic conflict between them, so i appreciate that at least)

season 13 (i fucking HATE the apocalypse world. that is my deciding factor between seasons 12 and 13. also i hate what they did to mary here)

season 14 (honestly an inoffensive season. i still hate the writing way more than anything else pre-12, and it doesn't have the benefits of a new character introduced to provide external conflict between sam and dean, so while it was relatively inoffensive it was also boring, lacking, and really obvious how little the writers cared about maintaining sam and dean's relationship as the emotional core of the show)

season 11 (the writing all things considered wasn't the absolute worst thing i've ever seen, if i'm being fair. on the other hand, i hated everything about this season conceptually, and i hate that it vouched for christianity as the ~one true religion~ which again undermines kripke's original series. this is me being petty and i'm okay with that)

season 15 (see above. oh but i'm honestly surprised it managed to surpass my ire toward season 11. like honestly it's impressive because i hold a massive grudge toward 11 which should have been insurmountable. a feat has certainly been achieved here!)

anyway. i said this wasn't going to be long but then i just kept on writing and writing. because that's what i do. i never learn 😔 i'll end it here then. i intend to go back and rewatch seasons 1-5 now that i'm finally finished, so i'm looking forward to that. i want to see if my rose-tinted glasses that i've been looking at kripke era with are based on reality or simply a longing to return to less terrible times :P

#liveblogging: supernatural #oh my god o h my god <3 #i did indeed rank every season from 1 to 15 in here. for funsies #spn reviews #.txt

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alpydk · 10 days

Text

Cabinet of Oddities (The Final Chapter)

Gale x Tav (OC F)

The final chapter. The defeat of the Netherbrain, the docks, the Chionthar. 2 epilogues. The first is the "canon" happy ending. The second is the one I prefer but decide for yourselves.

((I'm going to add a long blurb of thanks here. And some of my own unwanted backstory.

Nana was created for a DnD game back in 2021. A year when everything for me went to shit and I had a nervous breakdown. Her aversion to touch reflected my own insecurities with it, Thomas was the self-destructive tendencies which I clung to so desperately, her 5 years in the past was my 2021 as I lost myself to my mental health. Either way, this story was written as a reflection of all that happened and the friends that helped pull me out of it (despite all the struggles that came in that area).

But yeah, thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed the story. It's meant a lot, especially with this being the first fic I've ever written. So again, thank you, thank you, thank you.))

Ao3 Link

Nana fell onto the Netherbrain, her slight changeling form hitting the flesh beneath her. “Ooo squishy…”

“Tormentum!” Gale fired off a barrage of magic missiles at the mind flayer that loomed over her. “Nana, pull yourself together!” The battle so far had been intense, fighting their way through the High Hall, taking down cultists, ghouls and mindflayers and they’d had little time to recuperate before the final stages came. Now they bided their time as their own mindflayer ally opened the last portal giving them access to their foe. Gale ran to her, helping her from the ground where the enemy had shoved her.

“Thanks,” she said, wiping the ichor from her armour before leaning around him and firing an arrow past him into a tentacle that had suddenly emerged. “This is fun, right?” He could see how light her eyes were and the way her lips curved as she saw the arrow hit.

He looked at her in confusion but then a smile crept on his face. “Hardly the verbiage I would choose, my love.”

The portal erupted into view and the group sprinted for it ready to face the brain, the hardest part they had to overcome. Gale still thought of the orb, of that final choice he would have to make if things began to go badly for them. They continued to fight valiantly leaping between the plates that barely held in place around the brain. He could see the wear and tear of Astarion’s armour, the bruises on Shadowheart’s face, and again the choice presented itself to him. If this is what is needed, then so be it.

“Pew pew!” Nana dived past him firing arrows at the brain, his thoughts interrupted. Does she even realise where we are right now? He felt his head throb as the Netherbrain attempted to dominate the tadpoles they carried within. “Tormentum!” Another collection fired in the direction of the brain. Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails.

It was a spell from the Shadowheart that was the final nail in the coffin, causing the Netherbrain to cry out in agony. He heard its voice within his head pleading with them to surrender or work alongside it but the mindflayer accompanying them ordered them to kill it. Gale stood with the crystals, looking at the Netherbrain in front of him, knowing only one thing; He needed to get the crown. He commanded with authority for the Netherbrain to destroy all the tadpoles and itself, immediately feeling intense pain in his skull, the worm withering away to nothingness.

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

Nana watched as Gale made the order, her cheeks flushing a little at the sight. Oh, he is nice when he’s in charge… She bit her lip and then grimaced before crumpling to the ground in pain. She clenched her eyes shut, hoping for it to end and as it did, she looked up seeing the crown shatter into pieces before falling out of sight.

She looked down into the water. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. No Thomas, no tadpole, just the ramblings of her own mind. Jam, cushions, Gale. Going to be a fun night. And then there was a new sensation, one she had never experienced before, falling a large distance.

She felt the wind in her hair, savouring the moment before she hit the cold water beneath. A strange feeling overtook her as struggled to stay afloat, her arms growing weaker against the current, water entering her lungs. She could see the light above the surface but her mind kept drifting away from her, willing for sleep to take her. It was only as Astarion grabbed her pulling her upwards and the air entering her lungs again that she realised what had happened. She gasped for breath as she was pulled up onto the docks, coughing up mouthfuls of water. “I need to… learn how to swim.”

Astarion stood up next to her wringing out the water from his clothes. “Darling, you need to learn so much more before swimming.”

She felt Gale’s hand on her back, rubbing gently, and looked up to him with a smile. “We made it…”

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

Gale walked along the docks indulging in the sensation of finally having his mind to himself again. He thought over the crown and where it was within the water, how he would find it and reforge it, and whether he was still willing to hand it over to Mystra as she had ordered of him. He looked over at Nana as she removed her soaked leather armour revealing her cotton shirt underneath, her pale skin moist with droplets of water. She shook her head, spattering Astarion, and Gale watched as he chastised her for it, her laughing at his temper. Is godhood worth losing all this?

It was as her smile faded that his attention moved to what she had seen. Karlach stood on the edge of the docks, the flames of her skin licking higher. She’d spoken little of her affliction to him throughout their travels, but he knew what was happening as Shadowheart ran towards her with concern on her face. He watched, unable to hear the words they spoke to one another as Karlach burnt hotter and brighter than any of them had seen previously, his mind racing, looking for solutions. An ice blast, the water around us. All other options except the one he knew she was against. It was Wyll who shouted past him about Avernus, the reluctance showing on her face as she heard the words, but Shadowheart managed to convince her to see sense.

They had no time to say goodbye to the trio before they fled through the portal, the heat of Karlach’s flames becoming too much for any of them to handle. Nana stood next to him, a tearful and shocked look on her face.

Astarion came closer towards them both with a smirk. “Well, loves, I guess it’s just our merry- ow!” He flicked his wrist as if he had been bitten by an insect. Gale saw how his skin began to smoke, the delicate fingertips of his hands cracking into a soft blue. “What the - oh gods. Oh no.” The sunlight.

Nana's panic was clear to see as she watched how Astarion fled across the docks, his abilities being altered by the absence of the tadpole. “We have to go after him!” she called to Gale, before beginning to run.

Gale reached an arm out stopping her progress. “There’s little point. There’s nothing we can do for him.”

“Maybe not, but he’s our friend. We can’t just leave him alone out there,” she pleaded with him. In mere moments she had lost over half of the people who had ever come to care for her, leaving only him alone with her. “We have to find him. Please, Gale.”

You’re right. The crown can wait. He gave a small nod and together they ran off in the direction they had seen Astarion flee.

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

It had been over one hundred years since Astarion had felt the sun last burn his skin, a cruel torture technique that Cazador had used a few times for entertainment. But over the last few weeks, he had forgotten the feeling of it, the sting and then the pain that followed. He ran to the shadows, glad for the layer of dust in the air that blocked the sun’s direct rays from burning him up instantly. He crawled into himself, the days of those small beams prickling at his skin flashing in his mind, and he closed his eyes, willing them away, trying to work out his route to the Underdark where he would have to continue on alone.

What Astarion had not expected was to feel someone sit next to him as he sat alone behind the crates. He lifted his head and sat in confusion seeing Nana with him. After all they had been through, how he had treated her, and distrusted her so much. She still refused to abandon him like so many others had before. “He’s here, Gale,” she yelled out into the air.

Astarion didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want anyone to see him in this condition, with his face burnt by the sun, and his clothes tattered and torn. He buried his face in his knees again to shield himself from her view. As he spoke, his voice was quiet, more vulnerable than he would have liked, “Leave me alone.”

She said nothing but he didn’t feel her move. He heard Gale’s steps on the stone beside him and felt as he sat too. I don’t want their concern. He wanted to shout for them to leave again, he wanted his strength back, he wanted the sun, but they chose to never leave him. Even as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, they sat quietly with him waiting until he was ready to say goodbye on his own terms.

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

“You’re going to be okay, right?” Nana’s lip quivered as she spoke the words on the shores of the Chionthar.

Gale gave her a reassuring smile, placing his hands over hers. “I will be.” He spoke with confidence, despite the worries he held within. He was thankful for the tadpole’s absence making these little moments that much easier to handle. “I will find the crown and come back to you. Do not worry for me.”

“I’m going to wait right here. I’ll stay here until you’re back.”

He could see the concern on her face, and he wished he could reassure her further. The letter he’d written lay in the journal he’d gifted her on the desk at the Elfsong Tavern, and he hoped she would never have to read it. Even if she did, he had spent hours with a quill in hand trying to provide the best words that could give her comfort if the worst were to happen. The kiss they shared felt too short, and Gale hoped it would not be their last. He boarded the boat to go out into the waters, letting his hands slip from hers. “Nana, know that I will always love you.”

He watched as she sat alone on the shore, her legs pulled up to her chest, and as she slowly disappeared from view he gave a quiet prayer to his goddess for her protection.

*****************************************

Epilogue

It was a sunny day outside of Waterdeep. A lone gravestone could be seen, purple flowers lined around the base. Not far from it sat Nana in her natural changeling form, her short white hair had grown out and the scuffed leather armour had been replaced with an elegant silk gown.

"So, it's been a year now since that day by the river. A lot's happened, as you know. I held a proper funeral for you here and I was able to say my goodbyes. I met up with Karlach and the gang again. They said Avernus has been good to them. They mentioned something about a refinery and that they’re hopefully sorting something permanent for Karlach’s machine. I’m hopeful for her. Astarion went back to the Underdark as well and has pretty much put himself in charge of all the vampires. He looks well, a lot more at ease with himself than he used to be.”

She brushed her hair behind her ear. “And then there is me... Well, me and Gale are getting married. Yeah, I think he’s crazy too. I know you probably won’t be too happy about it, but then you were never really that happy about anything, were you? I wonder if you were always that way. Was there any way I could have really saved you?”

She sighed deeply looking at the tattered journal that sat beneath the stone. “I think that’s why I'm here today. I wanted to explain the choice I made a year ago. Why I didn't want to help you. I’d believed that I wasn’t enough, and when I met you, I thought that for maybe a moment you were the answer to everything. Too many times I questioned what you did and yet I allowed it, afraid of you leaving me. I was selfish and because of me, people got hurt, and people died. After meeting Gale, and everyone else, I realised that I am special in my own strange way and that being alone isn’t really what I want anymore. I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t need you anymore. I do hope though that you’re happy. You showed me a new world outside of my swamp, and maybe at some point, you did feel something for me other than the disgust you did a year ago.” She wiped away a stray tear and smiled. “Either way, I hope now that you’re gone, you’ve found some peace in death that you never had in life."

A few feet away Gale approached, his hair still weaving around the collar of his robes, though now with a layer tied neatly back. "Nana, If I could give you longer I really would but my mother is quite the stickler for being punctual. We’ve also received a letter about a tree growing at the location we previously camped at in Rivington. They’d like for us to come and claim it before they cut it down."

Nana looked at Gale and smiled before turning back to the gravestone. "Well, I guess this is it then…” She stood and placed a hand on the cold stone. “Goodbye, Thomas. I'll always remember our time together." She breathed deeply and approached Gale, sharing a brief kiss with him before settling her hand in his.

Together they left the resting place of Thomas, only the sound of birdsong left hanging in the air.

*************************************

Epilogue (Alternative)

The rains poured outside of Waterdeep. A lone gravestone could be seen, purple flowers lined around the base. Not far from it sat Gale his dark hair had grown out, greying more than it previously did and the scuffed purple robe had been replaced with leather armour.

"So, it's been a year now since that day by the river. A lot's happened, as you know. I held a proper funeral for you here and I was able to say my goodbyes. I met up with Karlach and the group again. They said Avernus has been good to them. They mentioned something about a refinery and that they’re hopefully sorting something permanent for Karlach’s machine. I’m hopeful for her. Astarion went back to the Underdark as well and has pretty much put himself in charge of all the vampires. He looks well, a lot more at ease with himself than he used to be.”

He brushed his hair back with his hand. “And then there is me... Well, I’m returning to my swamp. I stayed here for a while with Tara and your mother but they’re a bit much for me. I see the way they look at me, blaming me for what happened. I should have gone with you, I should have stopped you. I should have prayed harder to Mystra…”

Nana sat in his form holding her arms tightly around her body. She sighed deeply looking at the tattered journal that sat beneath the stone. “I think that’s why I'm here today. I wanted to say goodbye properly. I’d always believed that I wasn’t enough, and when I met you, I thought that for maybe a moment you were the answer to everything. I kept your form for comfort just like I did all those days past with Thomas and I know in some way you’re still with me but I know that I can’t keep doing this. I need to let you rest, I want to hold onto you, but I know it’s not what you want. Your letter brought me comfort and I keep it in the journal you bought for me. You never let me down, never. You were always worthy, always good enough and I just wish you knew that. I wish you were here so I could tell you every day how much I love you, how much I’ll always love you.” She wiped away a stray tear. “I’ll keep writing poetry for you."

A few feet away Astarion approached, a large black umbrella held over him, blocking his suit from becoming soaked. "Darling, if I could give you longer I really would but they expect the rain to clear in the next few hours and I’d love to get back to the Underdark long before that happens."

Nana looked at him and waved an arm not wanting to be rushed before turning back to the gravestone. "Well, I guess this is it then…” She stood, reverting back to her natural form. “Goodbye, Gale. My moon and star." She breathed deeply and approached Astarion, giving him a small nod, thankful for the rain coming down upon them.

Together they left the resting place of Gale, only the sound of raindrops hitting the umbrella left hanging in the air.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 #galemance #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #well so long and thanks for all the fish

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secretmellowblog · 1 year

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I actually don’t think it’s true to say Hugo “intended” for Javert to be Romani. I admit my own feelings on this have changed over the years. :( The thing that was the final nail in the coffin to “this was almost certainly not *Hugo’s* original intent” was when I listened to a talk from a person studying race in Les Mis and they addressed Romani Javert specifically. It really feels like the more you study the passages that people pick to support this interpretation, the more the claim this was “definitely Hugo’s intent” seems to hold less water.

To be clear I don’t think Hugo’s intent is the be-all end-all, and that people can reinterpret things, and that reinterpretation is good. I also think people can reasonably disagree on translation/interpretation. but if we’re talking about the original intent….

If you read any other of Hugo’s works, there is never this level of ambiguity when he is trying to indicate a character is Romani. He is especially never this ambiguous when a character is dark-skinned enough to not pass as white. He is explicit. (And he’s racist. Hugo sucked.) Romani characters in other Hugo novels both before and after Les Mis are basically always explicitly said to be Romani, in a way that Javert never ever is.

Even in Les Mis we see a handful a characters who are supposed to be nonwhite, and it’s always very explicit. Hugo was racist and also very unsubtle.

The passage people usually cite as proof Hugo intended Javert to be Romani are two lines in his backstory— one saying that his mother was a fortune teller, the other saying that he’d come to hate “the race of bohemians from which he’d sprung.”

There are two words commonly used for “bohemian” in French. one is usually is used for the race of Romani people and the other usually used as a general adjective. Apparently the term that Hugo uses here is the one that is more commonly used as a general adjective. Saying “this passage is meant to clearly explicitly indicate he is Romani” seems to me like it’s mistranslating it; at best, it seems like you can argue there is possibly some intentional ambiguity.

Later on we also get a description of Cosette that describes her as “the bohemian who walks barefoot,” and the word for bohemian used in that passage is actually the French word that’s more associated with the race. (It’s being used in that context in the racist way people use g*psy as an adjective.) But people are far less likely to interpret dainty innocent Cosette as Romani compared to “violent” “brutal” and “savage” Javert who “hates his own race.”

The “fortune teller” mother could play into bigoted Romani stereotypes— but it could also into bigoted stereotypes about poor/lower class people, which often broadly overlap. Because of racism a lot of the way characters are coded as lower class/being on the fringes of society, and coded as Romani, broadly overlapped.

And “race” is being used in a more general sense here to refer to class, the way Hugo uses it often.

None of the early adaptations of Les Mis go with the Romani Javert interpretation. I can’t find old reviews that mention it. To me this indicates this isn’t what people at the time would’ve gotten out of the story either, especially because Hugo doesn’t seem to have gone on the record about people missing it. And again if you contrast that with other Hugo novels, where reviewers and adaptations DO all get which characters are meant to be read as Romani..:it just doesn’t seem to hold water that this was definitely what an audience was supposed to get from it.

And even if this was Hugo’s intent (and I don’t think it was)….well then it’s a catastrophic failure? Then it’s very Badly Written and shallow and horribly handled?

Because Les Mis is about how people with different kinds of marginalization face very different specific challenges. A character’s gender, class, level of education, criminal record, age, etc etc etc all affect the way that they’re treated and there’s lots of explicit discussion of that constantly.

So if Javert was intended by Hugo to Romani, and especially if he was supposed to be visibly nonwhite— well then it’s a failure of the narrative because Hugo never does any deep research or analysis of how his race would actually affect his life. Even in the very racist and bad novel Notre Dame De Paris/the Hunchback Of Notre Dame, there is explicit discussion of the way being Romani affects the character’s lives and how they’re treated in a way that we never ever ever see with Javert. It’s poorly handled and racist, but it’s there.

But if you want any of that explicit discussion about race to be in Les Mis you have to do the research and add it yourself, because it is just…Not There.

There’s no discussion of Romani culture and Javert’s distance from it, there are no scenes showing the way Javert interacts with other Romani people, there’s no explicit discussion of actual Roma people at all really, and (if Javert’s meant to be read as someone who doesn’t pass as white) theres no discussion of the way being visibly nonwhite would affect his life in such a deeply racist society. literally none of that is there. If Javert is supposed to be Romani there is an utter lack of care paid to how that would actually affect him and the way he’s marginalized, in a way you don’t see with how Hugo handles gender or class.

Again to me it seems like if Hugo intended for Javert to be Explicitly Definitely Roma, we would know; if he intended for him to visibly nonwhite, we would definitely know.It’s not just that the way he codes Javert doesn’t resemble the way he handles Romani characters in other books… it’s also that it doesn’t resemble the level of detail/care he usually pays to Exactly what background each character comes from and Exactly how it affects their lives.

It seems like what fans often do is take Javert’s internalized classism and label that as “internalized racism?” But I feel that while there are similarities because “class” in the 19th century was often treated as something immutable and biological, and classes were often described as a “race”, they’re really not the same thing.

And like, I’m not here to tell people what to do! people can reinterpret things how they want and bring their own takes on the story. Hugo sucked and was shitty and racist. A lot of my favorite Les Mis fanfics are one that take characters Hugo probably intended to be white and reinterpret them as POC, doing research into how that would’ve affected their experiences. But at the same time….

Many other people before me have pointed out that there is a Trend to which characters in which Les Mis tend to be more commonly reinterpreted as POC. There is a reason why “savage” “violent” oppressive cop Javert was played by a black actor on broadway years before we got our first black Valjean.

As someone who used to have this interpretation, I think Javert is a challenging character to attempt to reinterpret as a POC (without massive changes to his characterization) if you’re doing it for “good diverse representation” because he just, sucks so badly. Especially if he’s written as the only POC in the cast, he’s just a mess. He’s described as violent. As beast-like. He’s a bigoted cop. He’s brutal. He’s hideously ugly. He canonically refuses to think because he hates thinking. He hates the “race” (meaning class of poor people) he comes from. Every time we see him he’s compared to a savage animal. And yeah that’s …a lot of baggage! He is a character made entirely of baggage. And adaptations like BBC Les mis show the kind of uncomfortable racism that ends up being brought to the surface when Javert is one of the few main POC in the cast.

But yeah. TL:DR; There is ambiguity in Javert’s initial description, and I see why people have this interpretation. I think people can reasonably disagree on it. But over the years I’ve come down on the side of, it’s a bit misleading to say this is Definitely Clearly Exactly Canonically what Hugo intended and that adaptations/fans are whitewashing him.

To be clear I also think that reinterpreting characters is great and good! And that reinterpreting characters as POC, doing the research that Hugo didn’t, is especially good! but also that Javert in particular is a problematic hornet’s nest of unfortunate implications that kinda have to be managed, and that whether you disagree that this was “Hugo’s intent” or not there’s a massive gap in the story when it comes to discussing race that would sorta need to be filled with outside research.

#Les mis #javert #lm 1.5.5 #I dug this out of my drafts to post before tomorrow #but yee #anyway #now I go back to radio silence #: (

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nightfallgame · 1 month

Text

(NSFW) SHORT — Viktor Lucero (01)

Originally Written: 12-15-20

Prompt: Uhhh viktor touching himself with something he stole from the reader

The object in Viktor's hands is probably going to get him in trouble. He might be a lovesick fool, but he's not stupid enough not to recognize that he's made a bad choice.

It's a pair of your underwear, stolen straight from your laundry pile.

Just looking at it has Viktor's heart pounding and his cock twitching in his pants. He stares at the gray fabric, all but drooling, and debating if he can really go through with what he took it for. It would be a waste not to, but if you ever knew...

They're used. They'll smell like you.

Viktor gives in. He picks up the underwear from where it was resting on his bed and hesitantly runs his fingers over the cloth. It's soft and comfortable-looking. A part of him wants to put it on, maybe wear it to class for a day just for the thrill of it, but that would ruin the you attached to it. He can't do that... no matter how badly he wants to.

Still holding the underwear, Viktor lays down on his side, pulling his covers up over himself. He slides his pajama pants down over his hips, then traces the swelling outline of his cock with two fingers. He's so aroused that even that light contact makes him shiver.

He swallows heavily. He's really going to go through with this.

The thought is thrilling.

Next, Viktor takes out his cock. Already, he's about halfway hard. Fingers against bare skin are electrifying, especially when his eyes are glued to what's in his hand.

How would you look at him if you knew? Picturing the disgust in your eyes makes Viktor's cock twitch. You'd see him as a pervert forever. You'd know just how badly he wants you, how far he's willing to go, and how he'd debase himself for your sake and nothing more.

Shivering, Viktor strokes himself a couple of times. He doesn't need to bother with spitting on his hand. Already, his dick is drooling pre-come in a surprising amount.

Stealing the underwear was way too easy. He was alone in your room, and the idea that you let him be there is just another nail in the coffin of need.

The pleasure is smothering. Staring at the underwear and rubbing at his tip makes Viktor's the muscles in Viktor's thighs twitch, spasm, and try to press together. A thin trail of drool is leaking out of the corner of his mouth, wetting the pillow beneath his head. He bucks up into his hand desperately and whines under his breath at the pleasure.

And then, Viktor dares to do something even more overwhelming.

Slowly, as if fearing that you'd appear in his room and see him at any second, Viktor brings your underwear up to his face. He inhales against the cloth and moans at the scent of you clinging to it. This is something personal, something unique— and now it's his.

He could almost pretend like his face is buried against you, like you're using his tongue. That's a thought that makes Viktor shudder and his eyes roll.

"A-Ah—"

A needy moan leaves him. He wants to be close to you for real, not just in his fantasy.

As his pace increases, so does Viktor's spiral of lustful fantasies. His mind flickers back and forth between countless ideas of what you could do to him, of how he could be of use to you, and of how you'd feel if you could see him now.

He can almost imagine you behind him, arms wrapped around his stomach. You could stroke his belly, leave bites along his neck and shoulders, and whisper all kinds of things into his ear. Being yours would be the best feeling in the world. Viktor's never had anyone close to him. He's never loved like this. You're the first person to break through his shell, and—

Moaning even louder, Viktor curls in on himself. Every breath fills his lungs with the scent of you, and every slide of his fingertips against his pre-come-slick skin makes him hotter.

Inside and out, Viktor might as well be burning up. He's suffocating with every breath he takes in. The fabric over his face is making it hard to get enough air.

And that— That gives him new thoughts.

As it tends to, his mind flickers back to a certain moment that he can never forget. But this time, instead of his mother's hands around his neck, it's yours. It's your face above him, smiling as you strangle him to his breaking point.

Biting down on his lip until he tastes blood, Viktor finally comes.

The orgasm is forced out of him with a feeling like a lit match. The pleasure is a gut-wrenching wave that makes his whole chest seize up.

Viktor lies there, shaking and twitching, for what feels like ages. There's copper against his tongue, a hot, sticky mess on his hands, and your underwear is still held up to his face. Viktor feels more like a pathetic pervert than he ever has before— and it's better than he could have imagined. Being this low, this shameful for you is the perfect place for him.

Slowly, he sits up. His arm gives out on him once from how shaky it is, then almost another time. Viktor's head is spinning. He's still feeling warm all over from the aftershocks of his orgasm, and his cock is so sensitive that he flinches just from it brushing against his thigh.

He proceeds to neatly, carefully fold up your underwear and hide it deep in the bottom of one of his dresser drawers, under plenty of clothes.

You might find out eventually. Maybe that won't be a bad thing.

Either way, Viktor takes a deep, slow breath. His head is filled with thoughts of you. Being held and cared for sounds wonderful, but Viktor is, as always, alone. He'll have to clean himself up while pretending like you're the one looking after him.

That fantasy alone will never be enough.

#Viktor Lucero #East City Boarding School #Short #Reader #Lemon

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sunlightandsuffering · 10 months

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Lys, I'm here for you to read it whenever you decide to write the scene where Eren breaks up theire fwb arrangement. Or is just overall dejected after everything goes to shit

OH BESTIE IT'S ALREADY WRITTEN! Like I said I have a surprising amount of this AU written lol 😂 Excuse me I was in my Hisu villain era when I wrote this lol 😂

But then one day Eren shows up with Historia, pretty small blonde Historia and instead of not bothering to introduce her. He tells everyone to meet his new girlfriend.

This must be the girl he liked enough to fuck.

And that’s the nail in Mikasa’s coffin because nothing has ever hurt so badly. Because he kisses her forehead and gets her drinks before she can ask and Mikasa is horrified to discover she’s not just another fling, she’s the real deal. And she comes over to their apartment frequently and she hates it.

Everything is pain.

And then one day she’s watching the pretty blonde girl snuggle with Eren and she realizes she’s watching her live her dream.

She walks in drunk after another business gala she didn’t want to attend, but where Eren would have typically waited up for her before, now she finds him asleep on the couch with Historia, stupid Netflix movie still on and her heart breaks into a thousand tiny pieces because she’d had that.

Not a month ago that had been her. He’d wait up and greet her with caramel M&M popcorn he’d made himself and she’d vent to him about all the awful men in suits. And now it’s not and it’s over forever and she doesn’t know if she can handle it.

And then Eren is telling her he’s going to move out and enough is enough.

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michaeljoncarter · 2 years

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Do you like Jason or no? Sorry if this sounds rude I just can't tell from your posts and am kinda curious haha

it doesn't sound rude! very valid question. and also a very loaded one

jason todd is simultaneously one of my favorite and least favorite characters of all time, and i’m going to take this opportunity to ramble aimlessly about my (mostly negative) feelings about him and how he’s written in modern comics because it haunts me every day <3

and knowing how fans of the bat people can be, this really feels like kicking a hornet's nest so quick disclaimer: THIS IS JUST MY OPINION! not a personal attack on people who like jason as he is now and oh my god i cannot stress to you enough how much i absolutely do not want to argue with people about this lol

jason when he was first introduced is honestly one of my all time favorite characters. he was solid and interesting and he had so much potential. imagine for a moment a world where everything didn’t suck and we got jason staying as a sometimes-ally-most-times-antagonist to the batfam instead of being shoehorned back into their ranks. (imagine. if dc allowed its characters to have complex personalities and relationships again. ever.)

instead of that, the second he was out of winick's hands, with few exceptions, other writers pretty much IMMEDIATELY started stripping him of everything that made him interesting and turned him into essentially just another stock villain running around doing shit that made no sense for his character when they needed someone to shove into the role of antagonist.

(and don’t get me wrong: he should be an antagonist 99% of the time imo, but... y’know. preferably in a way that like. makes sense for him. at all.)

then lobdell clowned his way onto the scene with the final nail for his coffin and now we have a jason todd who doesn't really ever use guns, doesn’t kill, doesn't seem to have any real problems with bruce or his code, and isn't even in gotham most of the time.

there's really no point to the modern iteration of jason. he's essentially just a worse version of dick. nobody has any idea what to do with him like he is now because there’s really not much there to... do anything with. he's a hollowed out shell of a character because we need him to fit nicely into the batfam, and all that pesky character motivation and drive gets in the way of that. god forbid a story have conflict beyond the occasional snarky one-liner

sometimes, other characters will say something about how crAaAaAzy jason is or how he’s the black sheep of the batfam or he’ll be referred to as an “anti-hero,” but he never... does anything? like he’s really no different than any of the other squeaky-clean bats at this point. just fully sanitized

the only thing even slightly setting him apart from everyone else is his murder, so they bring that up at every opportunity to give him some sort of defining feature, but they can't do it in any logical way because then they'd have to stray into anti-hero territory and put him at odds with the batfam, so it's only in the most ridiculously superficial ways possible.

it's just like... him bringing up his death constantly is funny until you realize the writers are doing it so often because it's pretty much the only character trait he has left lol

the only real constant with modern jason is that everybody who comes within 30ft of him starts acting stupid and wildly out of character because he may be the most badly written and nonsensically characterized bitch of all time, but he's got a big fanbase, so writers want him to be the best, most specialest boy in the world at all times to appease them, and the only way they seem to know how to do that is by bringing down the iq of everyone around him so he'll look good in comparison.

it's gotten to the point where seeing he's going to be in a book feels like a bad omen because 9 times out of 10, anything he's in has absolutely shit writing because he's just GOT to be the strongest, smartest person in the room even when the room is full of gods, superpeople, and heroes who've been doing this shit 10x as long as he has.

it was already annoying BEFORE he "reformed," when he actually arguably had the slightest bit of an edge by virtue of usually being more ruthless and willing to cross lines than the heroes he'd fight, but now he doesn't even have that.

there's just nothing special or interesting about him! he does nothing! he's boring! and for no good reason! there’s so much they could be doing with him, but instead he’s..... sitting there. in bruce's shadow. stagnating. it's so annoying. he's just... an amalgamation of pretty much everything wrong with modern comics for me

sooooo to answer the question: i liked him a lot, but as far as i'm concerned, bruce killed him with that batarang to the neck at the end of the under the red hood arc, and there's been some sort of shapeshifter/bizarro version of him running around ever since, and that character, i despise

#ask #anonymous #anti jason todd #like not really but i know some people blacklist stuff like this so??#i feel the need to state i'm not like... a winick stan lol? like i have my issues with him #but for some reason nobody can get it together #so his is pretty much the only version of jason that's really felt like a solid character to me #everything i've read with him in it for the last few years is just like......#so empty #there's no point #one liners are not a personality #they've got him fighting with a crowbar for fuck's sake #like that is so mindblowingly stupid i don't even have words strong enough to insult it #it's just incredible #i don't know if this even makes sense i just like blacked out and woke up to this wholeass thesis typed out #thank god it's over now hopefully i never have to talk about this man again lmao #formal apology to all of my followers for making four posts in a row about this bitch

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prettytm · 19 days

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@architaciturn { x }

"You belong to me."

The words fall on deaf ears, he'd be horrified when later he realizes what he's said in the height of passion, that words he's hoarded in the privacy of his own mind were unleashed on the vampire. He fears how easily they could be misconstrued. He doesn't mean those words in the way he knows Szarr use to spit them, they were not a call of ownership, a dark reminder Astarion's body and mind weren't his own.

When Billy utters them, they mean something wholly different. They were a claiming of his heart, his soul, something deeper than anyone else could have ever claimed for their own. Astarion was his. As surely as the sun sinks beneath the horizon to once again greet the morning sky. The the certainty of the stars in the heavens he knew that theirs was a fate neither could have expected but had been written in stone.

Yet there is fear of how the pale elf might respond to hearing them. He never wants to cause his panic that he had exchanged one master for another. After all.. He had been merely a gift to help ensure an alliance. How could Cazador have known that would be the last nail in his coffin.

"My Little Star." He breathes against a nest of white curls, scenting him with the roughness of his beard and the oils and creams he uses. He smirks as he moves to bite into his nape of his neck, a hand slowly running between his thighs to grip his cock to stroke him teasingly. "How needy you are tonight.. Have you missed my cock so badly? It's been.. Two, three days?" The words are a husky, breathless whisper. The fingers that had hooked inside his mouth have remained until just then. He withdraws them to swirl in the milky seed painted across his stomach and thighs, a combination of their sticky mess before then feeding them deep and deeper pass the slit of his lips, choking him prettily with three slender but long digits. "I suppose I understand.. You're so use to being fucked senseless daily.. How could you not miss what's yours? Hmm? Do you think you're sweet enough to take more.. Or should your king wait until you've recovered?"

#architaciturn #::: { Verses; Freedom For Love }

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nightmare--artist · 8 months

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The Messenger Wiki

Creator of Character: NightmareArtist/aka me.

Current Name: The Messenger.

Past Name: Xavier Midren.

Time frame from when he was alive: early 1800's

Nicknames: Message man, Messenger, No face, "masked" man, faceless,

Possible Quotes: "This'll be the last message/letter you will ever receive." "As this letter ends so does your life." "You will regret the choices you have written out in permanent pen infront of you." "There is no escape from me." "Me and my letters will always find you with time."

Brithday: Tuesday, March 8th.

Gender: Male.

Blood Type: Black colored and a bit thick.

Nature: Corrupted Evil.

Age: Unknown appears to be somewhere in his 20's.

Height: 6'3

Family: Mom-> Claire Midren -deceased- Dad-> Varick Midren -deceased-

Friends: None, why would he need any?

Sexuality: Bi with a preference for guys.

Enemies: Anyone who maybe stronger then him, has a advantage over him, attacks him, or whoever he deems his next victim.

Love interest: None, there is no time for any of that.

Current Appearance: Short fluffy brown hair, brown eyebrows which are typically hidden under hair and or hat, no eyes, eyesockets are like deep dark voids, pale skin, no mouth and where a mouth should be is some scaring on the skin, he dosen't wear a mask it's just his face, pointed ears, razer sharp nails, sometimes a void like hole in chest, wears a white long sleeve button up with yellow buttons, medium dark brown pants with a yellow button on the front and the back of each leg to connect them to his socks, long black socks, brown boots with black laces, tan suspenders concted to a light brown belt with a buckle that's connected to the dark brown medium pants, carrys a light brown messenger bag with papers in it and on the inside of the bag it says "Xavier Midren", and wears a hat with different shades of gray and a black strap, there is a rip on the black strap as if something had been ripped off it. On his left back shoulder blade has a Zalgo marking and on his right upper arm there is a Slenderman marking on him.

Past Appearance: Pretty much the same clothing especially when he is working his hat didn't have a rip though, he liked to keep a form of good appearance everyday to make himself feel good, had a mouth, skin had more life to it, normal ears, no symbols on him, normal cut nails, had eyes and they were a green color.

Voice type: he can't speak now due to how he currently is but when he was alive he had a regular British accent to him.

Species: Unknown Humanoid like Enity.

Weaknesses: His head, if shot in it dead, or if head is bashed in dead. Like how a normal person would die from head injurys or zombie. Can't talk. Nets are another weakness, he can't seem to get free from them on his own normally. Staying too long around someone or something that has a major connection Slenderman or Zalgo, frist his head begins to hurt more and more then the marking on his skin for the specific subject starts feeling like it is on fire, which distracts him a lot sometimes. References to his past like his past name being said majorly confuses him. Small, dark, tight spaces, it brings him panic and reminds him of how he was stuck to die in a coffin.

Abilities: Can open a hole in his chest to stuff food in it typically he just uses his chest, can see just fine without eyes surprisingly, has great strength and really great speed, can make noises without a mouth like growling. Very stealthy. Any paper that comes out of his bag he can manipulate what he wants written on it. He can quickly heal, if wounded badly he'll heal completely in 3 or 5 days. He is very flexible he can undo his joints if needed or wanted and can turn any part of his body quite far.

Current Whereabouts: Deep forest or woods, sometimes near roads or in his old worn down home that can be found in a forest.

Weapons: His hands and his sharp fingernails.

Works for: No one, he doesn't like working for anyone from experience with working for Zalgo then Slenderman unwillingly. He avoids anyone or anything involving them at all costs, not wanting to fall back under one of their control. When he did work under someone he is used to get rid of bodys and evidence, to kill, also to give messages if needed.

Favorite food: Road kill, live people or animals.

Hobbies: Hunting/stalking people or animals, watching and feeling the rain, sleep till daylight is gone, sometimes sketch little drawings with pen and paper from his bag but this is rare to see happen he typically hides this.

How he kills: He has two ways, frist way is to stalk his pray, he follows them giving them a scare here and there till he finds the perfect time to finish them off or when he is bored enough to finally put an end to his victim's life after mental and or physical torture on them. The second way is that he is very forward with his approach, he sometimes waits on the side of a road and waits for a car or vehicle to come by and he jumps into the road and or creates a distraction to make the vehicle crash. The end result is always him tearing apart his victims and him putting the body parts inside his chest which is form of eating them and getting rid of evidence. Sometimes he does a mix of both ways. He learns new tactics from watching what others do or from what others are doing to him, he uses his letters to mess with his victims.

Personality: quiet, creepy, organized, secretive, impulsive, calm, manipulative, loner, observent, clever and a bit animal like.

Past Personality: kind, caring, hard worker[- dispite running late on some things but he always trys to make it all up in the end.-], oblivious to certain things, out going, believes in justice.

Backstory: The Messenger was a 1800's messenger named Xavier Midren. He lived in a small town named Riverwindnormindy. One day when he was doing his usual route of deliverys like everyday he does he saw something he shouldn't have seen in a alley and then out of fear he informed a nearby police officer at a station of what he saw. It all got taken care of, or so it seemed. Later that afternoon after he was done with work he was riding his bike home due to his family not having enough money for a car or anything like that, the way home went through the woods/forest, he was suddenly chased and attacked by people who were involved with the person he reported to authorities. They wanted to teach him a lesson he wouldn't forget even in death that lesson was to keep his eyes and mouth shut and to himself. They beat him up, he tried desperately to get away and fight back but it was no use, he then trys to scream for help, they quickly put him down to the ground and pinned him down to it, overpowering him. They then stitched his mouth up so he couldn't attract any unwanted attention. They proceeded to beat him up some more afterwards they decide they should wrap things up. They stabed his eyes out and buried him 7 feet in the ground in a coffin in the woods/forest he had an idea what they where doing to him by the feeling of being shoved into a box like thing and the sound of dirt hitting a hard surface. He tried the best he could with the strength he had to bang on the coffin, he tried his best to make as much noise as possible, maybe there could be hope. . .? These actions and hope is all he could try to do and have. He kept at it till he eventually ran out of oxygen, sadly no one ever figured out where he was or what exactly happened to him. He died 7ft under the ground in the woods/forest all alone, in fear, in darkness, and in pain.

A more detailed version of his Backstory: ["The Lost History of the Messenger" Backstory|http://aminoapps.com/p/urlm3aq]

~Guess that was the one message that shouldn't have been given.

Now: He dosen't really remember too much of his past life now. He came to be the way he is now from Zalgo wanting a new minion to control and use suddenly a while after his death when most everyone he knew was long gone and brought him back in a way that made him not really himself anymore mentally, emotionally, and physically, one thing led to another and The Messenger winds up working for Slenderman as a Proxy by being brainwashed by it, he gained a bit of a conscience at a certain point after a long while and realized he was being controlled he then manages to break free from both for now by pure luck and he stears clear of anything having to do with both Zalgo or Slenderman to not slip back under control again to either one of them. He tried to cut the markings off of his skin once but when his skin healed the markings slowly came back and it hurted like a motherf**ker when they slowly came back. It's like a punishment for attempting to take them off. Despite breaking free from Slenderman and Zalgo they still have a bit of control on him, messing with his brain and torturing his mental state till the day he finally comes back to one of their submissions. Slenderman is much more persistent then Zalgo most of the time. It's like a game messing and torturing The Messenger, whoever gains The Messenger on their side or kills him wins.

Fun facts:

•if you're up close with The Messenger he smells like a corpse.

•He is very possessive of his things.

•Had someone who had a crush on him when he was alive named Jefferson who was a colleague of his but he was oblivious to it.

•Barely has any family photos of his family.

•Lived in a two story house with a celler. Rooms were upstairs and bathroom and everything else was downstairs. Had some bookshelfs with books. Typically keeps his parents room locked so no one could mess with it. Has drawings he has drawn in a drawer in his desk in his bedroom, barely uses his bed for some odd reason. His house has been ransacked a few times and the place looks abandoned.

•Typically draws individuals with unique facial features or interesting physical appearance he has seen, come across, and or interacted with and sometimes stores the drawings in his desk.

•He is very flexible.

•Doesn't believe in kind gestures or love much, he believes the other's goal is to use him, he has trust issues.

•If you put your hand in his chest while opened it would feel like how a inside of a pumpkin feels - without the seeds and wall. And if you take your hand out it would be covered by a black substance, like his blood.

•If he cries for whatever reason it would be a gray watery substance.

•The black blood substance smells awful, like a decaying corpse if smelled.

•When it rains he likes to stare up at the rain as it drops on his face and into his eyesockets. He finds some sort of comfort in this.

•When creating him for the frist time these things came to my mind a lot: Windegos, Ghouls, Slenderman, Zalgo, urban legends in general, E.J., Ben Drowned, Jason The Toymaker, Zombies, Ticci Toby, Demons, things I learned of older history in World History in 9th grade, and Madame Macabre Creepypasta/FnaF songs.

#creepypasta #creepypasta characters #original character #the messenger #the messenger wiki #creepypasta wiki

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bean-doge · 3 months

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Thoughts on The Black Lizard and Beast in the Shadows

These two novels aren’t connected with each other at all but since they were put together in one book I am going to write about them in the same post.

But, well, even if they aren’t connected they definitely have one thing in common: the fact that they both were supposed to have a cunning and strong woman as one of the main characters but fail to show them as actually interesting and multi-dimensional characters because Ranpo doesn’t know how to write women at all.

The Black Lizard

This was supposed to be a classic detective novel with a genius detective and a genius criminal facing each other in a dangerous and potentially deadly fight. And I love these types of stories. It is interesting to see what steps both detective and criminal can take to achieve their goal and how they do it. But this novel did not give me the feeling of excitement and did not spark the desire to find out how these (supposedly) brilliant minds work which would keep me eager to continue reading.

First of all, the author’s speech was insufferable. Constant “But who could this be?!” or “My dear reader, you thought the author made a mistake but lo and behold!” annoyed me to no end. I understand that initially it was a story printed in serial magazines but reminders of the events that happened just a page ago made me feel like this novel thinks of me as an idiot. And author starting to speak directly to the reader feels out of place because you can tell that this was not supposed to be a story with the author as a present being.

Second, Black Lizard herself was written horribly. We are supposed to think that she’s a genius thief — yet most of the time the story focuses not on how smart and cunning she is but on her sexiness and eccentricity. Oh, she loves to dance naked and has a museum with stuffed people in it. But when it comes to showing her smarts we only get a couple of glimpses of it. Good genius detective vs genius criminal stories make you doubt who is going to win until the very end. Here it was clear that Black Lizard is going to lose from about the middle (and it was the moment when I completely lost interest in this novel and just forced myself to read it to the end). And her falling in love with Kogoro was done so badly. It could have been made interesting — her enjoying their chase so much she starts to think of him as someone more than an enemy — but since the story isn’t that long it just felt rushed and random.

Third, Kogoro Akechi wasn’t that brilliant of a detective in this novel either. Most of the time he just was monologuing about something he had already done instead of being shown in the action. And explanations like these are just plainly boring. They may work as one big reveal for a specific detail that becomes the final piece of a puzzle that makes everything clear. But when the whole story consists of “big reveals” instead of lacking one small small piece you are constantly lacking a whole lot of details which are randomly dropped on you at once and you are left to deal with them confused and disappointed. And extremely abrupt and sudden ending was the final nail in the coffin.

Overall, a dull story with quite weak writing and boring characters. I’ll give it 4/10 because, well… it could be worse I guess? But I definitely can’t recommend it to anyone, it doesn’t worth your time.

Beast in the shadows

I had very high hopes for this novel. I love ero guro nansensu and this is considered one of the first and most iconic works of this genre; I love Edogawa Ranpo’s ero guro nansensu works (especially “The Demon of the Lonely Isle”, one of my favourite books ever); and even if The Black Lizard was disappointing I was still hoping that it was just one bad work (you can’t make masterpieces every time, right?) and this one was going to be great. I was wrong.

This book definitely was ero because the shocking reveal about Shizuko, our lead heroine, is that she seemed to be a quiet and normal woman but turns out that she loves sex and loves getting hit with a whip! How scandalous! And, of course, I am speaking from the position of a modern reader, and at the time when this novel was written it was actually shocking to see something like this in a novel. But what else is there to Shizuko other than her love for BDSM? Nothing. We spend the whole novel following her only for her to kill herself behind the scenes. She was supposed to be this great twisted mind but she turns out to be absolutely plain as a character. And in the end we aren’t even sure that she really was behind everything that happened.

The main character is also not interesting at all. Story is told from his POV, so we are supposed to know his thoughts and have the benefit of a doubt about how we see the situation. But somehow he manages to hide his thoughts from the reader and it is not done in a smart way. He should have been slowly piecing the story together while finding new evidences and we were supposed to be following him through it instead of getting his sudden conclusion dumped at us at the end and then get hit with “Or maybe it wasn’t like this at all, who knows”.

As I said, there was ero. But what about grotesque? What about nansensu? There was none. I did not get that feeling of bizarreness, of seeing something that I shouldn’t like I did when I read “Strange tale of Panorama island” (which was finished just a year before “Beast…” and is a much more suitable for ero guro nansensu genre in my opinion); I didn’t get the feeling of disgust and pure horror like I did when reading “The Demon of the Lonely Isle”. So as an ero guro nansensu work it was also pretty weak.

It was better than “The Black Lizard” because I at least didn’t have to force myself to finish it but I wasn’t that interested in what was going on either. 5/10 and can’t recommend either.

#edogawa ranpo #the black lizard #beast in the shadows #book review #bean doge reads

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amarriageoftrueminds · 2 years

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Hey... So I don't understand why so many people like p*ggy??? 10 years ago sure, he'll I liked 10 years ago. I was a dumb kid, saw what she did in the screen and thought 'This is feminism'. Today I look back and I cringe because she didn't represent feminism, she's a perfect woman born out of the idea that man have on the perfect woman, she isn't slutty like Private Lorraine, she doesn't care about other guy's like bucky, she saves herself just for steve, she is the woman born out of white man's fantasy, of what white privileged man think feminism should be. I don't know about you but in these last few years I started to hate HA take on p*ggy 'she can do what Steve does, only is better because is in heels'. I'm sorry for coming to bitch in your asks I am just kind of frustrated I read the Screen Rant 10 reasons why p*ggy is a better captain than Steve and I resolved to share my frustration with someone.

Hey no problem, I don’t mind!

(And I hate those stupid articles. If I wanted to see 1990s sexual politics I’d go watch Buffy! How are we still not past the ‘women have to have impractical clothes and immaculate hair and makeup at all times’ and ‘being physically violent is what makes a character a ‘good’ female character’ stage??)

Peggy is the first character I can recall coming across in media where the beliefs of the writers about what they are, and the beliefs of the actor playing them, just don’t tally with what they’ve actually written. But it’s remarkable how much that can be used to convince credible people that what they’re seeing is good.

(Or maybe it’s more that they’re unpleasant people, who genuinely don’t believe anything she has done is wrong, because they’d do it themselves. So any criticism of Peggy is a personal attack, because they feel she’s just like them, easy to project themselves onto.)

By this point I genuinely can’t think of anything Peggy could do on screen that casual viewers would call out as bad.

She has both assaulted and sexually assaulted Steve, hired a Josef Mengele expy (who killed members of the 107 and personally tortured Steve’s bff, both before hiring and afterwards as a direct result of her hiring; who also ‘killed’ Bucky while in the process of trying to kill Steve), and helped him become immortal (in two universes now she has done this; across the multiverse!), shouted at/blamed other people for her incompetence, and she has stepped over Steve’s bleeding body to seize power for herself after speaking about casting off ‘mere’ mortality, like Red Skull, (and acting like him immediately after) in What If...

What more does it take? Actual puppy kicking?

It’s like viewers are dazzled by the make up and boobs and can’t see anything else. (To be fair they are amazing boobs).

Like if people have convinced themselves that Brock Rumlow is a nice guy and nothing he did was bad because he’s played by someone hot?

I always had an uneasy sense of ‘I have to act as if I like Peggy, because everyone else is fawning over her, so it must be just me??’ Which I didn’t consciously realise I was feeling until I saw other people voicing doubts.

The real nail in the coffin was finding out about HA’s behind the scenes antics: the air of arrogance and entitlement, the repeated unprofessional, unwanted sexual contact, and the- I think of it as a hint of black rage in her eyes, but always voiced in a breezy, bubbly tone? Creeps me tf out!

I remember her telling stories about Whedon’s criticisms of her performance in AOU, and she was acting like that was a hilariously rude, wrong-headed thing for a director to do (to give an actor criticism when they’re acting badly). She’d remembered exactly how he worded it, and then repeated that in an interview, to backstab over it and make herself look good.

And for CATFA; I remember her talking about how she struggled with the radio scene, but that her audition, doing the radio scene, was amazing, and one of the grips on set told her she’d made him cry.

And just... I can’t understand why it didn’t occur to me at the time, but: who does that??

Can you ever recall hearing an actor use an interview to talk about how great their own performance was?

So when I look at Peggy, now, it’s not just the script that makes her rotten, it’s realising that that is not someone accidentally playing Peggy that way. That’s an actor who thinks those qualities of arrogance and vengefulness are just confidence and self-defense; all fine and fun. She strikes me as someone you absolutely would not want to cross.

And the fact that the mind-control guy Fennhoff, in AC, hinted at being the person behind the Winter Soldier mind-control method... he says he thinks she’s an incredible liar. And the ruthless cold blooded serial killing Black Widow in that show? Also thinks she’s great.

The way she in fiction and IRL makes both men and women just throw their brains out the door? (Mary Sue Alert - even the bad guys love her!)

It’s so dangerous.

God, she could’ve been an absolute shining bastard of a villain! Alas.

One thing I’ve clocked about Peggy, recently, is the way she avoids answering questions when answering would make her look bad.

(Gives me strong Christian Grey flashbacks. Watch those movies; every time Ana asks a question, he dodges it, or acts as if he’s put his money where his mouth is and proved he would do X selfless thing just because he’s said he would.)

Examples with Peggy doing this:

(Why did you join the army?) Oh you don’t know how to talk to a woman.

(What are you doing here?) Officially I’m not.

(What about you and Stark?) Here’s your transponder.

(What about you and Stark?) Still don’t know how to talk to a woman.

(I don’t know what the right thing to do is). Oh Steve you’re so dramatic.

(Why are you double-crossing your colleagues?) Never mind that there’s a killer out there! (this was in AC.)

While I was googling things relating to this ^ (apparently this is part of gaslighting?) I stumbled across this short checklist of How to Tell If You’re in an Abusive Relationship.

And. Well.

Are you in an abusive relationship?

Your inner thoughts and feelings Do you:

feel afraid of your partner much of the time? (Steve looked afraid while she was shooting at him and braced his shield between them after she walked past. (Does that count as once or twice??) Definitely not afraid of her ‘much of the time’ but definitely afraid of her.)

avoid certain topics out of fear of angering your partner? (With the way she never answers questions I guess there’d be no point... but it’s interesting where his nursing-home visit falls in CATWS; in Act 1. Apparently he never went back to ask her about Hydra or Zola. What would be the point? And after being shot at, he never brings up Howard again, and starts carrying her photo around in his compass.)

feel that you can’t do anything right for your partner? (She shouts at him for, variously: getting in the way of the saboteur, not jumping from the plane at a time she chose, giving her orders, being late/out of contact, being kissed, etc.)

believe that you deserve to be hurt or mistreated? (Steve apparently doesn’t think shooting at him out of jealousy is psychotic!)

wonder if you’re the one who is crazy? (He’s still letting her voice opinions at him after that...)

feel emotionally numb or helpless? (More to do with grief in CATFA and A1, but in CATWS he’s not grieving so much but is definitely like this while still in contact with her...)

Your partner’s belittling behavior Does your partner:

humiliate or yell at you? (yes, see above; calls him a lab rat unprompted, calls him a dancing monkey unprompted, when the monkey Steve drew wasn’t even dancing (and he hasn’t danced in the European USO show so she cannot have seen him dancing) ... but then she praises him; this is classic abuse; she knocks him down so that only she, alone, can be the source of his self-esteem; Erskine and Bucky’s good opinions of Steve are only valid if she espouses them), also tried to humiliate him in front of Stark by bringing up Lorraine, and then got physically violent when Steve wasn’t chastened enough by her disapproval for her liking.)

criticize you and put you down? (yes, see above; the fact that she peppers cruel unwarranted criticisms in with cloying praise is no less creepy)

treat you so badly that you’re embarrassed for your friends or family to see? (egh, Steve seems pretty embarrassment-proof and spends all his time with his friends)

ignore or put down your opinions or accomplishments? (turns her back and dismisses his questions when he ‘kisses’ someone else; sneers at his desire for love, simultaneous with his ambition to become a soldier, and his success in the USO tour. The only times she can be convinced to say he’s right is when he frames it as originally her opinion: ‘did you mean that?’ and ‘dignity of choice.’)

blame you for their own abusive behavior? (apparently her shooting at Steve is his fault)

see you as property or a sex object, rather than as a person? (omg 1000% percent yes).

Your partner’s violent behavior or threats Does your partner:

have a bad and unpredictable temper? (YES, IN TWO UNIVERSES)

hurt you, or threaten to hurt or kill you? (YES)

threaten to take your children away or harm them? (N/A)

threaten to commit suicide if you leave? (No)

force you to have sex? (we never saw them have sex, thank christ; but she does force him to kiss her)

destroy your belongings? (Yes, she shoots at his shield; if you count his legacy as a possession then she sure as heck destroyed that by hiring Zola)

Your partner’s controlling behavior Does your partner:

act excessively jealous and possessive? (Y E S)

control where you go or what you do? (YES; won’t let him dress himself or be dressed by the nurse; won’t let him leave for Krausberg without being in control of how he travels and arrives there, even though he’s already got a jeep; wants to control/know where he is even though that’s obviously not necessary since he walks safely back to camp. The scene where she tells him off for being late/not calling in could be transposed to a modern setting where a controlling gf shows up, going ‘where were you? I texted you and you didn’t answer me! your phone is dead? you’re on thin ice!’)

keep you from seeing your friends or family? (If EG Steve has been around the whole time and married to her then, yes, she has. Apparently he didn’t get to visit until after she was dead and couldn’t stop him...)

limit your access to money, the Internet, phone, or car? (stopping him driving off in the jeep could count as controlling/limiting his access to a vehicle; if you see transponders & radios as the cell phones of their day then she is the one to control/manage/interfere with his, both times; and if the internet = information then she often acts as if she’s the only source of knowledge he should rely on, even when she’s just repeating things he already knows, eg. showing a map he’s already seen, saying Nazis will shoot at him *IRONY, mansplaining what Bucky would think/want him to do, how Steve should move on, etc. Steve never asks for this information or her opinion. She just graces him with it.)

constantly check up on you? (yes; she and Steve don’t know each other, they’re not a couple, so it’s none of her business to go poking her nose into how he’s doing in the Brooklyn lab, on the USO tour, in the pub (twice). Both of the times Steve is on a plane in CATFA it is Howard’s business to know where Steve is, since he’s the one actually getting Steve to safety. Since the script writers don’t care to actually give a woman anything to do, all Peggy is doing is getting in the way.)

The more “yes” answers, the more likely it is that you’re in an abusive relationship.

😬

#yikes #long post #antipeggy #antisteggy #p*ggy meta #steve meta #antiendgame #littlesolangelofangirl #toAyourQ #mcu meta #endgame steve is a skrull #tw: abusive relationship #steggy is hydra trash party #dat's me #meta #mcu #steve you in danger gurl #R U N #it ain't slander if I'm just listing things she did #what's funny is I never shipped steggy #even when I didn't ship stucky #I didn't ship stucky for a long time until one day I rewatched CATWS and boom #but I was getting this 'I guess liking her is compulsory?' feeling from first viewing of CATFA #and it wasn't because she was in the way of a ship because I didn't have another ship #I just didn't ship her and Steve #it felt like trying to ship a man with a bossy aunt #shipping a young fit guy with a battleship wodehouseian Wagnerian Aunt?#was just never sexy to me #too incestuous #felt like mother/son incest vibes

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carrotkicks · 3 years

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Hi!! I’m still going through comics but can I ask why is Tim ooc in Red Robin? Or what makes him ooc?

great question! but hoo boy, you just opened a can of worms buddy.

Before reading Red Robin (2009) it’s extremely important to know the context of what’s happened in his life leading up to that series, so I’d usually recommend reading his actual Robin run before…. BUT that’s a lot so I’ll try to summarize what was going on

Basically, around 2004 DC decided they hate Tim, or at least wanted him to be more like the other Robins, and began to destroy the kid’s support system which meant death to Jack Drake, Steph, Kon, Bart, (Dana i’m not sure but she never showed up again after Infinite Crisis) and the last nail in the coffin, Bruce. The last part of Robin and through other books leading up to Bruce’s “death” Tim’s mental well being is shown deteriorating pretty steadily, and he starts becoming more and more attached to the Robin mantle as if were a lifeline. It the end of the ’93 series he literally dropped out of highschool just be be a vigilante full time

**yeah it was definitely to the point that it was becoming unhealthy for him.

See, the foundations of Tim’s character isn’t just that he’s the logical one, or the good detective (bc let’s be real ALL the bats are) it’s he’s naturally very compassionate AND he really values his work life balance. He’s definitely got more distinct character traits that get lost in Red Robin but these two are the majorly important ones. And in the build up to that series (namely FabNic run and Battle for the Cowl) Tim loses those core personality traits and is written as a mini-Bruce mastermind schemer which is far from what you’d expect for him. And honestly? (In my personal opinion Fabian Nicieza screwed with Tim’s character SO BADLY that people think that Bruce 2.0 is actually who he is)

Okay, but In the context of Red Robin, Tim being ooc makes sense! Because at that point, Tim’s at rock bottom. He’s overcome with grief over Bruce’s death, lost his purpose (being Robin), pushing away his loved ones and self isolating. And on top that the kid literally runs away from home because of an almost delusional belief that Batman is Alive, and well yes he was technically right it doesn’t really change the fact that Tim was really not himself.

He even acknowledges it himself!

But the thing that makes the Chris Yost Red Robin arc good is because it’s a deconstruction of Tim’s whole character. It’s one of those “we’ve reached rock bottom, nowhere to go but up” sort of things. (when FabNic takes the reins of the series it’s just ooc though because there's no character development. Just Tim being edgy and kinda mean, which is pretty unlike him)

Sooo I’m pretty sure this was all over the place and made little sense but TL;DR Red Robin ’09 is a really good series. I personally loved it, but Tim isn’t really himself and you have to acknowledge that it’s not the best indicator of his real personality. He’s in a dark headspace and the book was tragically cancelled before we could see him go back to the “light” (curses n52). Just enjoy it for what it is and don’t take his characterization in it as gospel.

#just kinda rambled actually #but making sure that people understand Tim's character is weirdly important to me #i care a lot about this kid #ask #meta i guess?#long post

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mk-wizard · 3 years

Text

The real problem with female characters: it’s YOU, babes (hear me out)

Hello

For too long, I didn’t know what to say about the subject of fictional feminism because I thought it was because I was neutral since fictional characters are not real and everyone tends to be exaggerated, but... deep down, I felt torn because I am a complex person; I’m a woman who proudly identifies as a feminist though at the same time, I’m an artist who believes in freedom of expression. However, after seeing the unkind and unforgiving backlash towards Masters of the Universe: Revelations especially towards Teela’s complex character, the final nail in the coffin has been hammered and I have picked a side and it gave me a lot of clarity...

I have decided to side with my fellow artists BECAUSE I am a feminist and the real problem isn’t the female characters or even the creators who make them. At one time it was, but not anymore or at least not for a large majority of the female characters out there. The real problem is the way the female community reacts towards every single female character that gets produced especially if she is beautiful. It makes me sad to say it because I’m a woman myself, but this is the real problem. Every time a female character is introduced, it doesn’t matter if she is brave, intelligent, hard working, determined, kind or interesting. The instant she so much as breathes the wrong way according to women, she is labelled as “problematic” even when many women in real life are just as guilty of doing it to or worse yet, defend the same action/trait in real life!

The best example of this hypocrisy and double standard is how in real life, the feminist community makes a huge point of taking a stand against slut shaming hence the Slut Walk in how it reminds us that women who are beautiful and dress sexy still deserve to be treated like ladies. However, the number one complain I hear from these same women is that the way the Disney Princesses and comic book heroines look and dress objectifies women. In other words, these women want us to judge the beautiful woman in sexy clothes by her character and just let her enjoy the right to dress how she wants, but they don’t even do that for a fictional woman.

Another example is when a female character makes a mistake even with good intention, she is practically put on the stake to be burned, but when a male character does wrong (even if it is the same mistake), nobody says anything. I am all for women being held accountable for their mistakes, but making mistakes is part of a hero’s growth in order to become a better person which includes a better female person. And in some cases, the character is just supposed to be bad and that is ok too. After all, we have bad male characters who might I add are often deemed as sexy for being bad by women. You cannot wish for complex relatable female characters who are human, then get disgruntled for not being perfect little saints after. It isn’t fair and it is a complete contradiction.

Now, don’t get me wrong, there are still some badly written female characters, but when I read the criticisms made by other women on a lot of these female characters and they leave me wondering if we are even talking about the same ones. It is like watching the overly demanding mother towards a daughter. The mother wants her daughter to be herself, independent, to take risks and think for herself, but when the daughter does just that, the mother turns around and scolds her for doing that. In reality, the mother isn’t disappointed because the daughter acted out of line. She clearly didn’t. The mother is disappointed because deep down, the mother has learned the hard way that giving her daughter complete agency over herself means that she will do things that the mother hoped she wouldn’t. However, the mother fails to realize that the daughter isn’t being a bad girl for just being different from what her mother hoped she would be like.

And that is the very point of feminism that many women seem to forget. Just as men shouldn’t telling women what to do or cross examining each one of our actions, women shouldn’t be doing that to each other. There is no right or wrong way to be the woman you are because a woman should never be denied the right to be herself for better or worse.

And that is the mindset and standard we should have when looking at these female characters. And before making any criticism towards their actions or how they dress, always ask yourself this, would you do the same thing if they were a man or better yet, a real woman?

Instead of being so judgmental towards the wave of complex and varying female characters, we should be rejoicing that we got what we wanted: female characters who can do anything male ones can do which includes being human, being silly or being flawed. And yes, those are things to celebrate because it is proof that they have grown out of the Mary Sue, token female and love interest only roles!

Let’s start celebrating the female characters even if they do things we wouldn’t do because that is part of what makes them great.

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daddywright · 3 years

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I have only recently got into the ace attorney fandom, and this story was the first story I read, and I feel spoiled! I absolutely loved every chapter, so I'm gonna word vomit here and tell you everything I love about this!

"She offers him a smile. It’s small, tentative, but it possesses a strength that makes a hidden part of him twist and burn with quiet envy." the first time we see nick's wish to be as strong as mia!

Considering the fact that nick didn't have any prominent figure in his life, it makes sense that he would look up to gregory so much

"Phoenix looks up, and starts walking towards Mia Fey

He doesn't stop for two years."

THE RELATIONSHIP THAT MIA AND NICK HAD WAS PRECIOUS AND DESERVES MORE THAN WHAT THE FANDOM GIVES THEM

"Larry’s arms wrap around him, squeezing almost too tight" People forget that Larry and Phoenix were good friends too, and Larry would help his best friend

"Nobody believed him, nobody but Mia" Maya is what Phoenix is to Mia and I adore that

"He wishes, desperately, that he’d said it while she was still alive. I loved you. For everything you did." Not you absolutely breaking my fucking heart

Also the first AA game felt unnatural in the sense of how seemingly unaffected Phoenix seemed at Mia's murder so I'm really glad you wrote it this way

"Expensive. Thoughtful. Too much." SHUT UP NICK YOU DESERVE ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING

Also quick break to mention how I absolutely fucking love your writing style and i wish I was literally half as talented as you cuz the last time I read something that made me feel this multitude of emotions was ocean vuong. And I practically worship Ocean Vuong. So now I worship you too

"You're a stranger to me // When will I stop hoping?" I never really realised just how badly nick musta been hurt by good ol' bratworth before this fic, but now that I have read it, it would have hurt him so bad

"Is this why you never answered my letters? Because I was a reminder? Because it hurt too much?" Honestly what happened to miles and phoenix's friendship hurts so much because it should have never happened, and miles didn't deserve that.

"Maybe Miles Edgeworth is not the man he thought he’d be, either." yo when I tell you this hurt I mean this huRT

Fun fact! My birthday is on the same day as DL-6 anniversary. Gregory Edgeworth died on my birthday. I feel horrible now

"monster. You were nine years old and he's a monster. " No one has made me feel this much emotion for what happened to Miles in a single sentence other than you. I commend you for that

"I love you," he says quietly. He has never said those words to anyone, except for Dahlia Hawthorne.

Maya sniffs in his ear, crushing him tight. "I love you, too."

He has never heard them back.

PHOENIX HAS NEVER HEARD THE WORDS " I LOVE YOU" COME BACK TO HIM ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME WHY NOW I'M SAD

"Tell me everything. Every detail—" Miles is worried bout nick and why wouldn't he? gods you're so gay miles but tbf if I knew someone like nick irl i'd go ballistic too

"He determined the motive for his own assault...with amnesia. Naturally." My man's smart af and he is king

"Is that what she thinks of me? That I'm like that? That I don't care about who the bad guys really are?" Gumshoe noooo you're hella precious! Also this particular chapter was so well written! loved this soo much!

Also taking a minute to appreciate the pacing! Rarely do I ever come across an author who just hits that sweet spot of perfect pacing and you did! so thank you!

Alright so here are a few thoughts that I felt capcom needed to do which you did for us!

no. 1 - Address the trauma phoenix faced with not only dahlia but also with mia's death

no. 2 - Actually fucking flesh out a good relationship dynamic between larry and phoenix

no. 3 - actually! have! phoenix! be hurt! in bridge to turnabout! istg my man would not have dropped from a burning bridge to a freezing river only to have a cold

AUNT FRANZY AND PEARLS MAN!

THEY CUTE

ok so I have a LOT of feelings for bridge to turnabout and HOO BOY BUCKLE UP

So I always thought that in this fic, miles must have felt fucking awful! I mean he very clearly hates who he was and what that has led to but that must have been doubled over with this case! Phoenix would have died if not for mia and it would have been indirectly miles's fault. I think about that alot

Like he said that he very much regrets whatever he did as bratworth in the phone call with gumshoe but i don't think he anticipated this. poor edgeworth

Also I think this was the final nail in the coffin for miles. Phoenix forgave him, after all the fucked up shit miles did, and that made that man go "how is this guy so fucking compassionate awwwww shit I'm in fucking love with this idiotic brave man".

my main thoughts were "holy shit phoenix must have been feeling awful." like to learn that you were in love with a person who turned out to be a murderer but then not a murderer cuz everything you felt about that was real and just...... it must have hurt. He never fell in love with dahlia. it was iris, always. and WHAT ABOUT MILES DURING THIS!!! Like to learn that the man you love was falsely led to believe that he was in love with a person he rarely met and then learn that his ex who is not murderous might still be in love with him because "that was real. that part was real." like damn. people just gloss over this

also I feel terrible for iris F in the chat for iris lads.

Dahlia literally haunting that courtroom scene. I felt mia's power. I felt her desperation. I felt everything and I am once again in awe of the absolute power your writing holds.

also godsdamn pearls had to go through all that shit huh. also FRANMAYAAAAAA THANK YOUUUU

I too, am a hoe confused as to what I should feel towards diego.

Ok anyways we jump to disbarment now

"He just winks at her and says Maya has other talents, and if Mystic Maya overhears, she puffs up at him like the fish from the aquarium she saw once, the one with all the spikes and silly eyes."

you know what constantly amazes me? your ability to change tones so effortlessly. When writing from edgey's pov, the language is sophisticated. precise. when writing from pearly's pov your language is simplistic, child-like. from phoenix's pov it's natural. grounded

"She never knew anybody who made faces like him, growing up in Kurain, and it’s one of the things that makes him special." Yo phoenix is the most amazing uncle ever and we all know it ok he's brilliant

I'M RUNNING OUT OF CHARACTER LIMITS

PEARLY CALLING EDGEY AT FIRST SIGN OF TROUBLE I'M SOFFFFTTTT

“I think I did something really bad." trucy baby no it's not your fault

pearl and trucy bonding supremacy. my girls would fuck shit up

"She’d meant to do this properly, one day." Thank you for giving importance to maya's feelings. thank you for treating her like a real human being. thank you

“Everything that happened...for what? It’s only gotten people hurt. Pearly. Our mother.” Me. Me." I felt so bad for maya here. I wish I could tell you in precise words about how this exact framing of the sentence is what broke me. "me. me" maya deserved more, but mia did all she could

"What do scared kids need? ...Food." not you breaking my godsdamn heart again. phoenix just knows what's it like being a helpless child, and he'll be damned if he ever lets anyone face that again

“‘Course, Pearls,” he says reflexively, before frowning. “What for?” reflexively. if every man in the world could be like phoenix wright then the world would be worthy of the gods

"Another one?" give it 2 years edgey she'll be your daughter too

"after countless hours creating the man’s living space in his mind from the background snatches he’d seen in the man’s ridiculous video calls." NOT ONLY DO THEY VC FOR NO PARTICULAR REASON BUT ALSO MILES ACTUALLY SPENDS TIME TRYING TO RECREATE HIS ROOM?? BECAUSE HE WOULD ONE DAY LIKE TO BE IN IT??? good gods these bitches gay. good for them

"because just as day is light and night is dark, Phoenix Wright is an honorable man." damn straight. you love to see it (it being a 27+ year old man pining for another 27+ year old man)

also hey miles! how do you feel about the fact that the man you love changed his fucking major and degrees halfway through college just so he could see you again only for you to be incredibly rude to him and make him end up in jail! (i bully edgeworth cuz i love him)

"Wright finishes, shrugging like it’s nothing, like his commitment and belief isn’t the most extraordinary thing that Miles has ever faced." it's more than pining at this point. it's incredible faith and trust. Miles had someone who cared about him even after all those years despite him having changed so drastically, ofc he would be surprised. Miles loves phoenix and so do i.

also HOT DAMN YOU WRITING IS JUST * MWAH *

Also the whole segment where they kiss is just !!!!! miles wants! it's beautiful! THEY'RE IN LOVEEE

receiving poisonous bottles which your ex tried to kill you with. My man can't get a break huh

Miles being chivalrous and protective and absolutely stealing my godsdamn heart (and phoenix's too)!

Klavier being the absolute king that he is we stan

The hostage situation section? gods miles must have been terrified.

Phoenix not being able to promise pearly that he'd always come back home and miles hearing it and like... ouch. my heart. you didn't need to do that (but i love your for it)

GODS THE CLIMAX WITH KRISTOPH WAS SOOO SATISFYING AND LIKE MY MAN PHOENIX REALLY PUNCHED THAT BITCH HUH

klavier baby I am so sorry

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL!

and thus my comment ends. I believe I have almost used up all of my commenting limits and i leave with these few parting words : HOLY SHIT YOUR AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU!

also I made a playlist on spotify for this fic! here's the link : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3k8lRHiO8ZXQDLpiTUL7SN?si=fc3b35b4ab064867

gods this was long huh

GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY....WHERE DO I BEGIN...THE FACT THAT YOU BROKE THE CHARACTER LIMIT ON AO3 AND MADE A PLAYLIST? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?

thank you so much for all the amazing things you said....i am crying on a Wednesday morning knowing my writing was appreciated this much. thank you!

#ask tag #long post #my fic #nymphietonkslupin

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