#(but for me the joy is in watching them fail & have to change. that conflict in storytelling is my favorite. it's yummy!)

[bird-inacage]

This is finally my review on GMMTV's wildly popular 'Only Friends' which saw out 2023 in style. I do realise this is almost a year since it's release, but I find that time often allows for more objectivity.

Let me start by saying that the buzz and anticipation for this show was immense. The raunchier offering was a departure from GMMTV's typical affair, paired with the understandable hype over a powerhouse of a cast. The excitement reflected an obvious appetite for messier queer relationships to be explored on screen.

I personally had a great time overall with this series, and was highly entertained throughout by the drama. The story isn't airtight, but the plot packs in plenty of twists and turns to keep you on your toes (and I was repeatedly caught off guard). I give kudos to any show that can keep me guessing. The pacing is mostly consistent, with a lot of story packed into 12 episodes. It allows for sufficient character trajectories to be explored and concluded. The final Boeing arc could have made a bigger impact if it had been signposted sooner.

The main couple here are Mew and Top, but both SandRay and BostonNick get a decent distribution of screen time. I've found the general consensus to be that Mew and Top's relationship is the least interesting of the three, and I would agree. You do get very different flavours and conflicts with each couple, as well as complex layers across this entangled web, so there's likely something for everyone.

The lessons learned by our characters is what I feel this show does really competently. We follow them as they royally fuck-up, they fail, learn and grow. The arcs depicted feel very relatable. How can you continue to love someone after they've hurt you? Should you allow your feelings for someone to determine your own self worth? Should you try to change yourself for love? What does it mean to love selflessly, or selfishly? Can friendship and love exist hand-in-hand?

Out of three main couples, two survived. I think Boston and Nick going their separate ways was the only satisfactory ending they could've gotten. Mew choosing to no longer stay friends with Boston was also incredibly valid. When people hurt us, sometimes they can be forgiven, but sometimes they cannot - and that's a valuable lesson in itself.

This is a very strong ensemble cast. The standouts for me are Khaotung and Neo. Khaotung's range is masterful to watch. Neo gave us one of the best villains I've seen in a while. Boston was an absolute joy to hate. What I loved about their performances is you could tell how much fun they were having. I also have to shout out Force, who did a brilliant job of making me utterly loathe Top. But I must stress that it's a real treat to have a cast where everyone pulls their weight.

The series also makes the effort to portray many side dynamics that I hugely appreciated. I thought Ray and Mew's friendship was told beautifully. I adored Nick and Sand's platonic affection for one another. I liked seeing the healthy parental dynamics Sand and Mew have with their respective mothers. Yo's friendship with the younger cast is lovely. The only player I think was glaringly under-utilised is Namcheum. Her character fell really flat in comparison, and didn't add much value to the friendship group. Considering she was one of our few female characters, her presence was rather forgettable.

I'll do a special mention on First and Khaotung, as they are my faves.

Acting Performance: What I commend First and Khaotung on is the ying/yang extremes of Sand and Ray. Sand is a role that requires a lot of restraint. First was told by P'Jojo on a number of occasions that he couldn't cry. To hold in and hold back, and still emote with range and nuance is super challenging. While Ray needs the opposite treatment; to be outwardly explosive across all his emotions. Khaotung put himself through the absolute wringer to bring Ray to life, and it shows. Their fight scene in Episode 10 still gives me goosebumps every time I watch it. (Note: I can't get over how suitably giddy P'Jojo looks when watching them act).

Pairing Rating: [A FIERY ROLLERCOASTER] This pairing is all about peaks and troughs, ups and downs. But ultimately we see two people who truly complement each other and balance one another out.

P'Jojo has a very distinctive voice in terms of direction, which really permeates in every element of the show. He had a clear vision and that intent translates. Stylistically, this was right up my street, and is very palatable for today's audience. From the visually dynamic sets to character styling, there's individuality but also cohesion. The music choices are superb. The opening and end credits were striking.

Editing: This show does some playful things with the way it edits, especially when it comes to montages. The 'interview' shots at the beginning of the series offer us an efficient insight into Mew's POV, but is not utilised again. At times these choices can feel experimental.

Music: Khaotung's OST track 'Let's Try' is a bonafide banger. Khao really is out here to prove his astounding range, as I had no idea this was him when I first heard it.

>>>

FINAL THOUGHTS: This series isn't one I've rewatched from start to finish since it's release - though I have returned to Firstkhao's scenes again and again. Rewatch value is always an interesting factor I like to ponder - especially the why. I think this is one of those shows where it's impact hits most on first watch, but doesn't pack as much punch a second time round. Some people hope there will be a Season 2, but I'm not sure if that would be a good idea, considering our characters have come to a comfortable conclusion in their arcs, and any further disturbance to their stories may feel unwarranted.

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

[twig-tea]

Oppan 1 for 11, what a show

Final count: Out of the 11 episodes of Ossan no pantsu ga nandatte ii janai ka, I have cried watching 10 of them. Some of those were outright sobs. Most of them got me more than once, including this final episode. And I loved every minute. I put off writing this post because I didn't want to feel like it was really over!

This was a perfect finale, bringing together the relationships and lessons built over the course of the previous 10 episodes to culminate in an extremely satisfying showdown with Daichi's father, who was a fantastic final boss because he was so realistic. The things this man spewed were the worst kind of prejudice: based in reality and couched in concern for the person they were being said to, even while they were shortsighted, hurtful, and wrong-headed ways of thinking. But that kind of polite rhetoric is so difficult to counter in the moment. I like that everyone was ready to face an angry bigot, but not the wall of polite hate that he represented, and that it took time for everyone to regroup.

Kakeru speaking up with his new friends and telling Shizuka not to change her look for a guy was such a good sequence. He tries to speak up and is misunderstood; he later explains he likes her the way she is, and that's what motivated him to speak up. And how much do I love their friends preparing to support Shizuka by finding a different karaoke spot in case her confession fails?

I'm also so glad we came back to Moe and her concerns about her future, as well as Mika and her love for her job (and how it enables her fangirling). Everyone going through it at the same time was a good choice, and I love Makoto understanding what's wrong with each of them and supporting all of them through their realizations that they can't suppress or let go of the things that bring them joy just because adulthood tries to tell them they 'should'. Moe and Mika's determination for each of their passions was beautiful.

The conflict between Madoka and Daichi was also so well earned; there is a lot this couple will still need to work through, around their instincts to suppress their hurt in order to not influence one another. Daichi did that with Madoka around Madoka dragging his feet on coming out to his family, and then Madoka did the same to Daichi around Daichi not being willing to dismiss his father's concerns about their relationship. The way Daichi isolated and lost the will to fight back was also such a good rehash of themes in this show overall: When we're hurt by interacting with others, our instinct tends to be to withdraw, but it is only through interacting with others that we can heal and move past that hurt. I like that Makoto felt his withdrawal and it motivated him to stop it.

Furuike's party and speech was such a beautiful end to this character's arc with this team. Thank you @lurkingshan for typing out this whole speech so that I don't have to, because I need to remember it forever. Don't get used to yourself! And Furuike hearing that Shimura noticed his health, and came to the conclusion that she is a quality employee who should be promoted, was a beautiful moment.

Makoto noting that the Okita family is doing ok, but still deciding to rock the boat and help Daichi was such a beautiful expression of Daichi's place in his life now, and their importance to each other. And that inspiring Kakeru was also beautiful. I love the continued theme that when you nurture your individual relationships, all of your relationships improve as a result.

The Okita family showing up to this dinner in their themed clothing as armour really got to me. They are all wearing their hearts on their chests. And how much did I love Kakeru wearing the necklace his father won for him at the festival?!

Makoto's speech to Daichi's father was such a stellar moment for this character, reminding us why he went on this journey in the first place. Seeing the flashback to Makoto's first interaction with Daichi was such a good reminder of how far this character has come. What an incredible journey. Makoto finally understands that fitting into society and avoiding societal judgment is not the same thing as happiness, and that happiness is actually critical.

I'm obsessed with how Daichi spends most of that speech staring at Madoka as he realizes what Madoka has been not saying to him, and how much Madoka was trying to demonstrate care (though these two definitely need to work on their communication and stop holding back to protect one another in the future!). "If I change this about myself, I won't be me anymore" gave me legitimate shivers. Daichi as a character is such a gift.

Daichi's father being unable to accept everything, leaving the dinner, and not attending the wedding was satisfying and realistic. The point of this show is not that the world is perfect but that it's important we find a way to nurture our own happiness and the happiness of our loved ones in the world we have, by being kind to others and ourselves.

Tears Watch (I cried so many times this finale):

"Why are there so many obstacles to overcome if you're gay?"

I don't think I actually cried when Furuike gave his speech but it choked me up hard

Shizuka saying thank you to Kakeru got me; even though she was rejected, she was still happy she confessed as herself in the end

"Eventually I realized how many tears Daichi-kun must have shed to be able to laugh like that"

Daichi admitting to his mother that he really wanted his father to accept him and still has hope that he will, and she says she's not sure he ever will, but she'll always be on Daichi's side really got to me.

The nods between Daichi and Makoto after the dinner and at the wedding, and of course the ending montage made me cry

What an incredible show. I don't think I'll ever forget it. Thank you again @isaksbestpillow for sharing this show with us!

[mgc02]

I got a request. The confrontation with Valentino at the club in "Welcome To Heaven" escalates and Sir Pentious takes an angelic bullet for Angel Dust, which lands his redeemed soul right in the middle of the Heaven Court.

Ok, VERY interesting concept I love it!

The Selfless Snake

Tw: Blood, mention of toxic relationship, slight angst, not sure if this counts as Canon character death since he is technically still alive

Sir Pentious saw Angel's face when he saw his boss. He didn't know the full extent of what was going on but he knew that it was serious. He had been trying to work up the courage to court Cherri bomb though failing epicly and hilariously every time. But he was ready to leave when everyone else was after seeing that Angel was so serious. And that was the plan. Until sweet oblivious darling Niffty took off in the worst possible direction. Angel tried to stop her but in the act Valentino saw him.

This lead a confrontation and Angel held his ground. Standing up to him which Pentious could tell was a hard thing for him to do. Angel got his point across and it seemed that although he would pay for it later today he had won. But as Angel turned Pentious noticed that infernal Moth pull out a blessed pistol. In an act of instinct he pushed Angel out of the way taking the bullet himself. He felt shooting pain up his spine and a pound of pressure from the point of entry before he fell to the ground.

Angel upon realizing was in shock and in tears. Sir pentious grabbed at the gapping bloody hole in his chest. He wasn't long for this world. He thought for sure he was a goner... but then he blinked.

"The court finds no evidence that- huh? What!?!" the woman speaking gasped with a look of shock and bewilderment. Gasps followed by whispers flooded the room. Sir Pentious though confused and a little scared waved awkwardly and smiled. "Hello" his discomfort was lessened when he heard a familiar voice.

"Pentious?!?" Charlie gasped her eyes wide in disbelief before joy took over. "You've-You've been redeemed!!!" Vaggie was next her looking surprised as well but also a little hurt though Pentious didn't know why. Charlie tried to gather her bearings and plead with the court. "Look there's proof right there! It can be done. We've done it!" The gasps rose around the room once again along with judging glances at the woman in charge. Pentious simply stayed silent and slightly confused.

Charlie before continuing looked over at Vaggie with a look of conflict and uncertainty before smiling and taking her by the hand. "Heaven may have been wrong about the exterminations but that doesn't mean that things can't change. That heaven can't right these wrongs. If we put on this belief that we are perfect we never try to improve. And this here is proof that people can improve. So why can't heaven do the same?" The quiet in the room gave away that everyone could tell she had a point. The woman in charge looked over at the smaller one who pleaded with her with her eyes.

She sighed. "This does change a lot. And it does warrant our attention to at least give it a chance. We will put the exterminations on hold for now while we assist with your redemption plan and do our own research. And if it plays out right... then maybe there is a future where the yearly extermination is eradicated for good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have much to discuss with my superiors" everyone exited and Charlie threw her arms around Pentious in literal tears.

"I can't believe my eyes! I'm so proud of you! But what happened? We stopped watching after Angel confronted Valentino." Sir pentious had a lot to tell them. "Well, it was quite intense I must say- wait what do you mean watching?"

[hey-jac]

Little cousin—

Last month, I turned 37, but today you will not turn 36. A fundamental law of the universe has been broken. Nothing makes sense. I haunt my own home, restless, murmuring Tennyson: “Ah yet, ev’n yet, if this might be: I, falling on his faithful heart, would breathing thro’ his lips impart the life that almost dies in me.”

Apart from my parents, you are the person my heart has loved the longest. You are the quiet and safety we carved out for ourselves in spaces where conflict was the status quo. You are the smiles and laughter that would disappear or take on an edge of artifice when harsh reality intruded. You are the silences of things remembered but rarely spoken.

You are also the voice of defiance that reminds me it is worth it to fight back even when the battle can’t be won.

You told me once, in adulthood, that I was your “happy thought.” You, in turn, have always been mine.

You are lemon Italian ice in the hot sun; you are days spent at the pool, the skating rink, DZ Discovery Zone, Whitewater University, Adventureland. You are the train whistles we listened to from the wrong side of the tracks and the pulse of adrenaline as we rode our bikes away from The Monster Place. You are the joy that comes with discovery & adventure—the purest, most indescribable feeling, and so much harder to find as I age, but every time I do, there is an echo of you there with me.

You are with me, too, whenever I catch the giggles with someone: the strain in my sides and my too-wide grin never fail to bring to mind you & me and our helpless laughter late at night as we tried to fall asleep. Every time we thought it under control, one of us would snicker again, re-igniting the contagion. That sort of giddy, half-hysteric laughter is healing; I am grateful we shared it so often.

I suppose it’s no surprise I miss you, when so many of the best things in life make me think of you.

I miss your smile, your real smile, the one that came so easily when we were alone together. It reached your eyes and brought out your dimples; it was powerful and perfect. I miss your laugh, and the way you said my name. I miss how easy it was between us—how we could coexist without conflict; how we were always cooperative, not competitive. (You are the reason everyone looks at me strangely when I do not want to play PvP.) You were precious and good and fun and kind and I couldn’t have asked for a better or more worthy companion. I wouldn’t trade my childhood with you for anything—and isn’t that saying something?

The last time we spoke, you made one thing clear: you desperately wanted to be loved for who you were, not what you could do for other people. I know you confided this to me because I have only ever loved you for who you are and have never demanded anything. But sweetheart, how could you not understand that there was, in fact, one thing I would have begged you to do for me? How could you not know that in order to be content, I needed you to be alive & breathing somewhere in this world?

You were supposed to outlive me, kid. I thought we had more time. I had lived my life without regrets—too attached to my mistakes to ever consider them as such—but now my cup runneth over: a veritable sea of shame and guilt and utter devastation. I would give anything for more time.

Ten months have passed since your death, yet nearly every night I dream of you. Mostly, I beg you to stay. Recently, I ran to you and held your face in my hands. I said, “If I don’t see you again, I need you to know that I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. It’s you & me and nothing will ever change that.” We were both crying. You clung to my wrists and nodded. You told me, “I know.”

I hope someday to dream of better things. Your happiest memories were of us playing video games together—The Legend of Zelda, Dragon Warrior, Banjo-Kazooie—and I would gladly have those dreams instead. Especially if it meant I could watch those adorable quirks of yours once more: the way you felt compelled to pull your socks up multiple times during every single boss fight (despite my many exclamations of, “Seriously, Beej?!”), and how, once the environments turned 3D, you would be up on your feet, moving about the room as you tried to look around the corners of the game. Even now, I’m smiling as I picture it.

You are the oldest part of my heart, kid. I miss you more than any words could ever say.

— Jac (July 11, 2024)

[smalltownfae]

Now that I finished Going Postal I am replying to the questions on this post.

How did you feel about the book?

I will just copy and past what I wrote on goodreads here:

This is one of the funniest books in the series. I did miss the surprise of having an emotional moment that makes me cry this time. I got so used to expecting that. Moist von Lipwig and Adora Belle Dearheart are introduced in this book and they are both fantastic characters. I also liked the post office workers and the golems. It was a joy to see Vetinari and Ridcully again since they are both favourites. There are also some mentions of Watch characters that were delightful. In this entry of the Discworld series Vetinari gives a chance to the main character, Moist, to work at the post office and make it functional again. Mr. Lipwig is a conman and it was really interesting to see his internal conflicts and his interactions with other characters. I especially liked the contrast between him and Mr. Gilt. The commentary about government services and collectors was top notch. Even though this is a very strong book in the series, I expected more from it because it is the favourite Discworld book of so many people. At first it didn't even feel like a Discworld book to me. It was probably because of the addition of chapters and the inclusion of so many new characters, but I quickly got used to that. Still, the book felt a bit too long. I only needed the scenes following the main character since those were the best and all the other inclusions didn't seem extremelly necessary to me. The exception to this is the epilogue, which mirrors the first chapter beautifully.

2. Do you have any favourite characters?

Vetinari and Ridcully are still my favourites here, but I really liked Moist and Adora Belle. Mr. Gilt was a great villain too.

3. Favourite scene?

Probably the fire scene when Moist saves people and (most importantly) a cat.

4. Favourite quotes?

"What kind of man would put a known criminal in charge of a major branch of government? Apart from, say, the average voter."

Mr. Pump's speech to Moist of "When Banks Fail, It Is Seldom Bankers Who Starve".

"Grandad was the tower-master and had been everywhere and knew everything. Everyone called him Grandad. He was twenty-six."

"There was a pregnant pause. It gave birth to a lot of little pauses, each one more deeply embarrassing than its parent." (Abercrombie would have loved this one)

"Moist couldn't have stopped himself now for hard money. This was where his soul lived: dancing on an avalanche, making the world up as he went along, reaching into people's ears and changing their minds."

"Sometimes the truth is arrived at by adding all the little lies together and deducting them from the totality of what is known."

5. Did you gain anything from reading this book?

The knowledge of what GNU and Go postal mean.

[bryantspeed]

Season 2 Good Omens spoilers

Long rant incoming

Now that I’ve finished crying I wanna talk about the ending and some gut punch reactions I’ve already seen from other people. A repeated sentiment I’ve seen from Aziraphale and Crowley’s separation after the kiss is that “we don’t need more tragic queer endings” and that Our Flag Means Death and Good Omens suffer from straight writers writing queer love that fails in the end. And there are a few problems I have with those sentiments

The first being, BOTH GOOD OMENS AND OFMD AREN’T FINISHED? Like Neil Gaiman has stated in the past that he and Terry Pratchett envisioned 3 seasons in the TV adaptation of Good Omens, and we have definitely left off on a very interesting note for the third act to pick up from. This is the furthest thing from an ending as we can get.

Second, Season 2 of Good Omens very much shifted away from the idiot plot of Season 1 to truly make it a love story and emphasize that above all else. Hell, both Crowley and Aziraphale both point out romcom tropes that they find attractive and attempt to use them to make Maggie and Nina fall in love! Good Omens may be a self aware romcom, but it would be wrong to say it’s not still a romcom that subscribes to those tropes and utilizes them fully! We are ending the second act on a three act romantic story, and what typically happens then? The romantic leads, despite their mutual attraction and desire, split on ideological grounds and leave each other with regrets heavy on their lips (no matter how powerful a kiss is). Queer love stories do this too! Look at the movie “Bros”, they have this same 3 act structure, as does “But I’m a Cheerleader!” where we are screaming at Graham to please just run away with Megan but she is prioritizing her financial safety and family above her own desires.

Hell's sakes, look at the pinnacle of Romance, the brains behind the 1810 Clerkenwell diamond robbery, Jane Austen! Pride and Prejudice also follows this format where Elizabeth and Darcy are ideologically and emotionally split apart, and it is not until Darcy and Elizabeth grow and change for the better that they come back together in the most romantic scene to ever grace the world! "One word from you will silence me forever. [...] You have bewitched me body and soul". What I am trying to say is, Aziraphale going back to Heaven with Metatron is an extension of that common romance trope, splitting our star crossed demon and the too-trusting angel apart to prepare for the third and final act.

And ya know the funny thing that would have certainly happened even if they ended up together at the end of the second act? They would have been split apart very early into the third act. Stories are born of conflict, no story worth telling is one that culminates in "Nothing bad ever happened and we just watched our two lovebirds go on dates and explore each other's bodies for six hours!" Love stories thrive on setting up conflict, so that the romantic leads can fight and claw and work their way back to each other in a much more satisfying emotional climax than if the sloppy, rushed confession that Crowley gave Aziraphale had worked. Stories where the leads end up together in the middle of the story itself don't tend to end well for them (See Romeo and Juliet, "La La Land," "Titanic," et cetera). That is how you end up creating a romantic tragedy.

Third, while “We want queer stories that don’t end tragically” did have a place in film criticism at one time, and a time fairly recently, I feel that sticking to that now when there are a lot more stories that express queer joy and love (especially if you look beyond just major studios, support indie filmmakers, and support the SAG AFTRA and WGA strikes!!!) limits the kinds of stories we can tell. A genuine benefit of today is that there are a lot of queer stories that we can tell, and I’ve been lucky to read a lot of them. The freedom with which we can create stories about us is breathtaking. I've had the privilege to read many well written queer stories, but I've also had the strange privilege to read poorly written queer stories that I can't fathom how they made it past editing. There’s a fierce joy I carry knowing that there are a plethora of queer stories that I can read now, and that more are being created, good and bad.

My point is, there are so many queer stories to be told, and that are being told, so limiting queer media to “must end happily” is exactly that! Limiting! If we go in to every story with the foreknowledge of a happy ending, well frankly that’d be so boring! I want tragedies! I want fucked up characters not fully resolving their problems and being left in situations arguably worse than where they began!

And while I doubt that's the direction Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett wanted to take their supernatural love story, if Aziraphale and Crowley, despite all their struggles, are tragically separated because of metaphysical forces beyond our wildest imaginings, then that would be something new! It'd be interesting if done right! As painful it would be to not see Aziraphale and Crowley together gallivanting off to Alpha Centauri, I'd much rather see a story that has these sorts of stakes for both the characters and the audience!

Anyway, the reason for this rant is just to say that I'm excited for where Crowley and the new Supreme Archangel Aziraphale go in their final act, and by god will I impatiently wait and see.

PS: to those that I saw dismissing Good Omens' and OFMD's cliffhangers for coming from straight writers, Taika Waititi literally came out as queer, and Neil Gaiman had boycotts on Sandman in the 90's because of his queer characters, and his loving portrayal of Wanda, a trans woman that I will protect will all of my heart.

[companionwolf]

tonight's final Delta Green recap:

- have spent the past few days trying to get ready for this session emotionally; that effort has NOT paid off lmao (: <- he's on the floor crying on the inside

- basically this is me rn:

- here we go everyone

- wow holiday is strong.

- what's in the bag Monday.

- everyone clap for the horrors

- Monday WHATS IN THE BAG

- oh <- there's at least 6 stickbugs in the fog around the ceiling just Watching o_o;

- ah this is a cave.... cave count: 2

- aw the stickbugs didn't just immediately try to murder us when we tried to go further into the cave -- they gave a little warning buzz first, cute

- unfortunately we're still blowing up this place (or dying in the attempt to)

- OH SHIT THE BUGS ARE PISSED

- Jacob is conflicted; let's hope the choice he just made isn't a stupid one

- BAG BAG BAG BAG

- whatever Monday just threw EXPLODED and distracted the stickbugs; we love you ma'am

- oh fuck it's a stickbug and it Knows We Are Here

- OH SURE NOW YOU PASS YOUR SAN CHECK JACOB

- joy has fired the shotfun at the stickbug's tongue, commence combat

- HOLIDAY NO ):

- no wait they're OK (they just got slammed into a fucking wall its fine)

- um. 2nd stickbug stirring? 0_0;

- Jacob has the c-4 detonator . This will not end badly probably (it probably will)

- for .. at least a 3rd time I deeply regret not giving Jacob more in Firearms

- oh BTW they're about to get beset upon by many more stickbugs so like [stares very intently at the detonator]

- literal actual note our handler shared:

- 'what the fuck are you doing? run!' Holiday thank you I forgot I could do that (though Jacob blowing them all up wouldn't be entirely OOC at this point)

- IDIOT FAILED HIS ATHLETICS ROLL

- Holiday I am in your debt I will fight your wars (they kept Jacob from falling)

- Monday you're so badass <3 but if you die I'm rioting

- ^ NEVER LOVE ANYTHING EVER

- wait no she's ok

- but joy... is not D:

- JOY SACRIFICED HERSELF SO MONDAY COULD GET OUT IM -

-

- me rn:

- Jacob is going to have . So much grief

- anyway this opera changed my brain chemistry and I love that for me <3

[no-romo-hoes]

Logan Sanders: A “Brief” Rant About My Undying Love For Him

Logan Sanders has become such an important character in my life, I really don’t know where I would be without him. Probably very similar to where I am now, but let’s not talk about that today. Instead, let’s talk about how I grew to love him, and eventually fall in love with him (to an extent).

I’m ashamed of myself when I admit this, but I used to agree with Virgil in that he was my least favourite character. I honestly found him quite boring; useful, but boring. Especially in the earlier episodes, such as “Way Too Adult” and “The Mind vs. The Heart”. However, as the series progressed, I grew to enjoy his presence, especially in “Accepting Anxiety”, though that episode focused on Virgil. Just watching him start talking at that speed with that level of tension was hilarious and weirdly comforting. I think I first started really loving the character in “Fitting In″ when he made that extra effort to make sure Virgil felt comfortable with his hair, despite despising it himself (and no one caring about his feelings, only Virgil’s). I noticed how much he cared about the others and the changes he made to himself to better suit their needs and it really resonated with me. I’ve never really had any connection or positive relationship with any of my teachers despite schools always going on about how much they care, so Logan’s subtle displays of compassion got to me emotionally. 

The “Moving On” episodes were some of my favourites out of the whole series, especially rewatching them after discovering my love for Logan. His rational contributions and genuine desire to make Thomas feel better, his concern for Virgil’s situation, his suppressed joy at the idea of a new uni course, THE CAT HOODIE??? I just adore this man. I was filled with so much positive emotion when watching him in both episodes. It’s sad knowing how much he’ll suffer in the later episodes. I want to hug that man so much. I highly doubt he has ever been hugged, so he should start now. And now I’m sad. Damn it. 

Though I adore his appearance in those episodes now, I think it was only when watching “Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts” that I truly fell in love with him (obviously he’s a fictional character and I’m aro ace so it’s perfectly reasonable and not at all weird). I watched as he remained perfectly calm and stable throughout the whole episode and how he basically saved c!Thomas from a huge breakdown, and I just went, “Yep. That one. I want that one.” He just looked and felt so stable and reassuring; by that point I was hooked.

I watched “Working Through Intrusive Thoughts” and I just melted by how kind he was to c!Thomas and how civil he was with Remus. Firstly, it’s one thing to watch the kindness of a person like Patton, who would do anything for anyone, and a whole other thing to watch a seemingly emotionless robot demonstrate such wholesome compassion for their friends. Secondly, he was angry at c!Thomas. Positively furious at being ignored and not having his needs met. But he still changed his actions to meet c!Thomas’s needs instead. If that ain’t love, I don’t know what love is. It was the same for Remus; Logan was becoming increasingly irritated by Remus’s deliberate taunting, but he still did his best to remain calm and establish a truce between them. He failed of course, but he still tried. That level of self control was astounding to me (especially since I have none myself), and I was truly amazed by how well Thomas (the real one) played that character. All the conflicting emotions and turmoil going on beneath the surface and how it bubbled and boiled ‘til it exploded. Ugh, he’s so gorgeous.

In short, I love Logan Sanders so f**king much I would kill god for him. He is a sexy man. A cool man. A cool, sexy man. I can’t wait to see how his character arc develops. Part of me is excited to watch him suffer and break, but also I love him so much and I don’t want to see him sad. 

Love you Logan, Thomas if you read this I love you as well, you beautiful man :)

[lovesaadiqa]

here cause I need to be but I don't wanna write. ion't wanna admit it to myself. feel like shit though, again. alone, again. unloved, again. tired, again. sad, again. feel like running, again! read me a couple books, I always land in the pages of someone else thoughts when mine are too much. escapism when all else fails but im choosy about what I ingest when im scared to face life. it's always a book that tells me im a weak bitch by choice or Abraham hicks or I hate you by Sza. im learning slowly about the insecurity other people introduce into my vibration when I want to "vent" so my stubborn ass aint answered my phone or called nobody in almost 10 days. you know I read that women complain about their problems to be comforted/heard & men do it for answers/solutions. fuck it, I aint telling nobody my problems but me, people really leave when I open up, when I decide to be vulnerable, when I show the scars, talk about the pain, ask for help, they mf leave me. im never good enough, too damaged, too painful, too angry.

anyway, first book was "the subtle art of not giving a fuck" - the most important thing I learned was thinking of every situation like someone left a baby on my step. Whether the baby arriving is my fault or not I am responsible for the baby and my actions are 1000% my choice.. I have a choice in how to deal. The baby signifies hardship, conflict, dilemmas, negativity and trauma. how the fuck are you going to deal? it also gives an equation for identifying whether I have good or poor values and how to measure said value against my beliefs. I want my brand to be "constant composure" (phrase also coined from a book "7 days in June") a bitch don't wanna be rocked by anything. if me and 1.8 million ppl got the same "baby" i want to be #1 in handling it with a sense of urgency, grace and full composure.

second is "untethered soul" - I learned about how to listen to and feel my emotions from a conscious awareness point of view. give the voice I hear in my head a body and set her next to me like a bff. the idea to see how wacky and all over the place your bff is, why she exists and why you allow her to manipulate how you deal. there's also pulling back from the tv.. its like understanding how into a movie you can be that you feel you're in it but in reality your sitting in your living room.. your mind is fully encompassed by what is happening in the movie. the idea is to pull back from you life, still watch the movie but notice the coffee table, the traffic outside, the couch.. it's understanding that there is still so much going on around you but you're too consume to see it, you think youre apart of the movie "the emotions, feelings, thoughts and senses" when all actuality you're just watching it. this concept is so heavy for me and needs so much more discipline for me to grasp it but there is away to watch my emotions and not become a part of them or believing they're me.

growth is a bitch! I want it, badly. I learn all these ways to heal my inner child and adopt better behavioral practices and how to change my perspective but in the moment.. instinctual reaction or a destructive behavioral pattern. shut yo ass out fast asf no matter what I stand to lose. I hate it bad, the lack of self control.. eww.

faced with leaving my place and I see all ten kinds of attachment issues showing face. tryna teach myself to ask where the emotions are coming from when I experience something and right now it's discomfort. I know all too well what thats like and the idea of having to live through that again is blocking my energy. I've realized I need to make myself my home not no carpeted 3 bedroom, 2.5 bath, 2 story townhouse, me! after I pushed everyone away all that's left is admitting im running from me! I need to find a way to be ok no matter what's in front of me.. no matter where I go I should feel that 2 story glass penthouse vibe within me.. utter joy. a bitch scared as hell but I'd be a fool to not understand that im chained to this daunting life lesson and cannot move until I figure it out. letting that sink in is leaving me a fucking fist full of tears.

“And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” -Anais Nin

[l8dyvenus]

PICK A CARD READING

what hidden ancestral power was pass down to you and how can you tap into it?

NOTE: I decided to do something different and do a PAC based off of just oracles, channeled songs, and my intuition, using the theme of Kanye West’s fourth studio album “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.” but please note, this is a general read. take what resonates and leave what doesn’t, enjoy 💥

-

PILE ONE

channeled song:

oracles:

+ manifestation

+ compassion

reading:

unaware of how powerful you are, you hold the key of creating all you desire pile one. the key to all you are destined for. your hidden powers are that you are the creator and a alchemist. you may come from a troubled family or experienced traumatic events pertaining to your family. or for some, your childhood wasn’t as great as others. you could have been bullied whether it be at school or home. could’ve been toyed with, manipulated, and had ups and downs with your confidence because of this. even could’ve been told your dreams will not happen or not received support wether it be physical, mental, or emotional from loved ones. you never had that listening ear or unconditional love where someone told you “it will be alright” even when sometimes it wasn’t. often you even felt misunderstood and lonely emotionally while everyone around you struggled with their own lives as well. without you knowing it, you are one with the universe and they see your hardships. your angels and guides watch over you, protect you, and they want you to know that your life will not always be like this. but to make your dreams reality, there needs to be an out with the old and in with the new. you need to work with them to come out of conflicted thoughts and negative beliefs others have placed you in, as you are only victimizing yourself. they are telling me you manifest little things and don’t even realize it, or sometimes you do and just shrug it off as if it’s something that just naturally occurred. but imagine if you believe it in…believed in yourself…you can have bigger and better. the main message that you need to hear right now is to have compassion towards yourself and others. whomever may have hurt you or wasn’t there for you, it wasn’t intentional. often times people hold on to unprocessed, unhealed trauma because their parents or the people around them experienced similar. they never knew HOW to heal and be better, but to change everything, YOU need to do better. holding grudges only puts a hold on you and your life, but having boundaries and sticking to it will make things easier and create a relief. be more open and receptive. learn to surrender and let go of doubts. the power of the universe is within you. you carry the guidance, support, abundance, and healing you already need. don’t let past experiences and the unjust of others continue to steal your joy. the more you resist and fight and try to prove your point with others, the more you will feel drained when you can use this energy to have compassion and respect for yourself. you are only blocking yourself by blinding yourself with frustration and anger for things and people who no longer serve you. see from a higher level, your guides are wrapping their arms around you.

channelled messages:

+ “stop whining and FIGHT!”

+ “666”

+ “1010”

+ “if you fail to plan, than you plan to fail”

+ “appraise the value of your attachments in terms of your individual long term goals”

+ “be careful”

+ “increase your efforts to ensure victory”

< PS - this is just the beginning, not the end. FUCK anybody who has something to say about you! now give me a virtual hug 🫂 >

PILE TWO

channeled song:

oracles:

+ romance & connection

+ healing energy

+ take a step back

reading:

I’m getting heavy Venusian vibes so pile two you could have prominent Libra/Taurus placements or be a Venus Dominant but you don’t have to be. you are very elegant and joyous. you bring people together and everyone loves you but with that comes a lot of haters as well. the vibe you give off is someone caring, nurturing, and vibrant. so though you maybe be good at relationships of all kinds, you may also struggle with them as well. relationships with people may play a big factor in your physical/emotional world. I hear you attract a lot of energy vampires because of this. you tend to give too much of yourself to others while they give crumbs or nothing at all in return and you are being advised to take a step back from doing that. they are draining you of your energy, even hurting you. I’m getting that you guys could be very emotional. probably wondering why you keep getting into romantic or platonic relationships with people who do nothing but take from you and you allow it. it’s a reason behind that. a reason why you are so giving because maybe growing up people weren’t as giving to you so unconsciously, you try to be like that for others. or maybe even, your parents were a bit demanding and controlling with every decision and choice in your life which caused you to lack boundaries. you haven’t unlearned this conditioning so you try to give the love and support that you lacked to others when you should be giving it to yourself. but in the end result, naturally you are a healer, that is your gift. your hidden power is that you can love and heal the most deceptive person and wouldn’t give a second thought on why you’re doing it, you will just do it and that’s okay. the world needs more people like you. you are rare, one of a kind, and beyond impeccable. but in this lifetime, this will be one of your biggest challenges. you need to find balance and set boundaries on how much love you give, and decipher on who and what deserves it or you will be left with a broken heart at the end every time. you won’t find the love you are looking for in the people who only take from you. to begin to ever create boundaries, you need to take a step back and reflect on your life. shadow work is highly encouraged. ask yourself “why do I lack boundaries?” “why do I always feel the need to over give and please others?“ “why do entertain the people who take from me?” “is my relationships just based on half hope and half escape?” “what fears, insecurities, and trauma do I have that ties me to these people?” etc. your gift is having the power and being the embodiment of the empress, the true divine feminine, but you cannot share your love properly when you are wounded. take some time alone to figure this out to heal and when you are ready, share your love with the world and good things will come back to you. doing this will be the catalyst of guiding other people who are like you, to you. this will open doors to more opportunities to build your dream lifestyle/career/family, have the right people in your corner to and receive the love/support/friends you deserve. it’s okay to not be around or give to people all the time when you do recuperate. from time to time, find solitude in nature and reflect and listen. take sundays to yourself and call it “self care sundays.” please cut those trauma bonds that you have with losers. you are so amazing, I truly need you to see this love.

channeled messages:

+ “888”

+ “333”

+ “humble yourself”

+ “self acceptance”

+ “11:11”

+ “cute doesn’t last”

+ “you are blocking yourself”

< PS - love yourself first. put yourself first. you know the patterns when someone is just trying to take from you. the first red flag you get, LEAVE. the first time you see someone put something/someone before you, LEAVE. leave people who drain you alone, stay away from them. they cross your boundary, you don’t shut up and not say anything, you SPEAK! and if they can’t respect that, cut the muhfucka loose! you are a fucking goddess. the goddamn empress, act like it! 💅🏾 >

PILE THREE

channeled song:

oracles:

+ “yes!”

+ “blessings and abundance”

reading:

pile three, it seems you have no hidden ancestral powers. you are already in touch with your guides, fully aware, but not tapped in. I get the feeling you may be in your head a lot, sometimes not believing things are real. maybe you feel like you’re going through a spiritual awakening? but this one is waaay different than any one you ever had before which means you’ve leveled up. there’s hesitation and doubt about the power you possess but you are still being advised to go forth. explore and expand your mind with knowledge and wisdom on your blessings. a major way you can do this is by meditating more to channel what you need to hear/know rather than listening to intrusive thoughts whether it comes from you or others. the more you tap into your energy, the more abundance and prosperity you shall receive but you need more knowledge. whatever you are doing, keep doing it. don’t be reluctant to go deeper and explore further. and don’t be too scared to get lost into your crafts. there’s peace and happiness in the unknown. if you are accepting and kind to it, it will be accepting and kind to you. you are being called to trust your intuition because it is right and it is guiding you. this will lead to more tremendous growth and fulfillment. you have to trust and completely surrender to the divine. you may have been feeling very sensitive and overwhelmed but that is just your guides near you, letting you know that you are on the right path and they are supporting you. let go of all concerns and trust in them. don’t hold back, don’t get scared now. if you’ve been holding off on anything, if there is a decision that needs to be made, now is the time to start taking action. raise your vibrations and believe that all your endeavors is unfolding right in front of your eyes. it’s okay to take the next step. the world is literally at your feet, it’s time to express and show everyone what talents you acquire.

channeled messages: (a lot came out so I took all :) )

+ “increase your efforts to ensure victory”

+ “444”

+ “this was fated”

+ “be patient”

+ “1212”

+ “your luck is about to change”

+ “peace is priceless”

+ “slow down and consult your inner voice”

+ “work things out”

< PS - you got this. when you think of things before doing it, you always create a certain expectation of the outcome. don’t do that, just make the decision. spirituality is nothing logical itself. if you want to think about the situation or possible outcomes, at least try not to see it from a 3D perspective. you are protected at all times. just close your eyes and take the leap 🌬 >

PILE FOUR

channeled song:

oracles:

+ raise your vibrations

+ vulnerability & freedom

+ angelic protection

reading:

im getting big ass Leo/Aries energy right off of the bat LOL. pile four, you are very confident and you are not ashamed to be vulnerable with how you express yourself, your feelings, and what makes you unique. your hidden power is just being your true unapologetic, unexplainable, authentic self. because of this, people who showcase a facade think you are stuck up, a know it all, etc, but in reality all they are doing is projecting their negative insecurities onto you. there a lot of people who do not know themselves or scared to be themselves that are jealous of you. watch out for your friends and family that surround you, because the people you are closes with tend to be the main ones who hold judgement—not to say that they are, but it is a possibility. because of power that was passed down to you, you bring freshness into this world, and your guides are protecting you. you are meant for something greater, something big, which will inspire those who feel ashamed about being themselves. your journey in this life time is to be a speaker of some sort. maybe even perhaps a mentor, a guide yourself, or someone who just presents to the world what it is truly like to live comfortable in your skin through film, art, events, etc. anything that unites people together or gets their attention to showcase this. maybe even YouTube or movies of some sort. but like with pile two—which may resonate with you—there is no love without hate. you will go through trials and tribulations, heart aches and heart breaks just by being yourself. there are a lot of envious people and energy vampires, but I got a good feeling that you have firm boundaries and know when to say no. whatever you do, never lose your spunk. never not be honest with people or lower your standards for someone else. continue to always do things for you and help others who lack this mentality. I’m getting big sister/brother vibes from you. whatever moves you make, it will get quite scary but you are being guided to trust your intuition and listen to your guides when you are placed in positions where it feels like you are stuck between a hard rock and a shell. just always remember, you have that angelic protection around you.

channeled messages:

+ “take charge of whatever is going on in your life”

+ “increase your chances of winning by having the right spiritual teachers in your corner”

+ “if you fail to plan, than you plan to fail”

+ “accept any consequences of your actions”

+ “increase your efforts to insure victory”

+ “999”

+ “make what you desire manifest”

< PS - strut your shit girl ! fuck what anybody has to say, they are just intimidated and as they should be! I don’t even know you personally and I just know you’re a bad bitch whether you’re a girl or a boy. whole energy was just giving me femme fatale. your meant to be a star, so go ahead and shine like one! 😮‍💨 >

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Nemesis: Retribution (3)

Summary: 10 years after the Avengers had left you for dead during a mission gone wrong, you unexpectedly re-enter their lives. Wholly unrecognizable from the person they used to know and now with a new team behind you, they ask for your help to stop a chain of syndicates who were manufacturing and peddling the super soldier serum. You were determined to say no until the chance at the vengeance you had been chasing for years was added to the offer.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, MCU, The Punisher, Daredevil

Pairings: Female Reader x (Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff)

Warnings: EVENTUAL SMUT. SHAMELESS SEXUAL BEHAVIOURS. (18+ ONLY), polyamorous relationships, reverse harem, blatant disregard for canon timelines and events, lots of angst, Punisher canon level of violence and gore, strong language, mentions of trauma, character death, fluff if you squint

A/N: We’re playing fast and loose with canon here people. Also thank you for the interactions. I love reading what you think and it helps me write the next chapters better. Also, I enjoy having someone to freak out with. Highlight of my life I swear to god. Enjoy!

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

1:3 Hard Candy

Natasha stormed off the jet and into the conference room where she knew the rest of the team were waiting for them, fury radiating from her small frame. Catching sight of her target only made her grow angrier. She immediately ran up to Steve and growled up in his face causing him to immediately take a step back. Sam and Bucky were immediately alarmed, standing up to intervene and the latter's black vibranium arm whirring in preparation but Steve held up a hand to stop them.

"What the hell, Rogers? You send me on a mission with zero intel and this is what I find? Did you know?"

Steve's eyes narrowed down at her, the thick beard and longer hair adding even more to his already commanding presence. He knew exactly what Natasha was talking about and he did expect her to react this way.

"I wasn't sure, Nat. And I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up if I was wrong."

"And if you were right?" she scoffed.

Steve swallowed hard before he answered, the blue in his eyes calming considerably. "I thought the three of you deserved to be the first to know."

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky asked, arms crossed on his chest and brows deeply furrowed. They didn't even know about any mission.

Natasha chuckled humorlessly and backed off from Steve. She ran a hand through her hair, the red bleeding into the old blonde color, and gestured toward the door at the approaching people.

"Well you weren't wrong, Steve."

Shock.

That was the overall theme of the day it seemed. None of them could hardly believe that you were actually standing at the doorway. It's been ten long years and you were like the ghost haunting their dreams during that time, a pure and kind soul taken far too soon. Hell, they told stories about your selfless sacrifice to the new recruits. You had unknowingly become a legend.

A legend turned ghost story.

Now you looked more like a nightmare; dried blood caked your clothes and skin, a cold smirk lifting the corner of your lips, and a dangerous unhinged glint in your eyes.

"Well, I'll be damned," Sam breathed. "Y/N?"

"Hey, Sam," you said, the almost flirtatious lilt in your voice sending a shiver down their spines. "I go by Nemesis now."

"Nemesis?" Bucky snapped out of his daze, brows raised high and his jaw clenched, features seen clearer now with his shorter hair. "The notorious mercenary Nemesis?"

"I prefer private contractor."

While they had been honoring your memory, you had been building a ruthless reputation of your own that was widely considered on par in violence with The Punisher but with the added disturbing fact that you could be hired. Of course, no one but a select few knew who you actually were.

Until today.

Nemesis. The Greek goddess of divine retribution and revenge. A name that suited the dark avenging persona you had adapted and the only purpose you now lived for. In a twisted kind of way, you were doing the same work they were only with far less finesse and none of the righteous for the good of mankind purpose they usually had.

You shrugged, sitting yourself casually down on the nearest chair on the other end of the long table from where they stood. You have had a long night, your feet were tired and they were still looking at you with absolute confusion and disbelief. This looked like it would take a while.

You rolled your eyes as you unbuckled your stained bulletproof vest, throwing it haphazardly on the table. You hazarded a glance at each one of them as you made yourself comfortable, noting the changes in them too. The years had given way to a solemn maturity to each one, it seems things had changed for them too.

"Now that I'm here, you have 12 minutes."

"12 minutes? Until what?" Steve stammered.

He couldn't keep his eyes off you, couldn't for the life of him reconcile the person he was seeing in front of him with the person he knew. From your expressions to your movements and even to the tone of your voice, you were just so different and yet it just seemed to make you a more magnetic presence. Fresh guilt washed over him, knowing that he had failed you as your Captain. They should have kept looking for you.

"You'll see. 11 minutes now. Either ask your questions or tell me what you want."

"We all thought you were dead," Steve muttered, taken back by your hostility.

"Well that obviously didn't stick. How did you find me, Cap?"

It was Steve who found you. At first he couldn't believe it was really you, but the split second glimpse he got of your eyes from the body cam on one of the field agents weeks ago drove him to obsessively dig further. It was a shot in the dark when he sent Natasha and the twins on the mission tonight.

"By chance," he admitted. "We've been chasing a group of people suspected to be manufacturing and selling the super soldier serum. Our agents have had a few close encounters with you. I think we're going after the same people."

"So you're asking for intel?" you snorted, absentmindedly picking at the bloodstains on your sleeves.

"No," he said cautiously, wary at how relaxed yet tightly coiled you looked. "I'm offering you your spot back with the team."

You almost choked on the laugh that just escaped your lips. You couldn't help the short bark of laughter at the ridiculous proposition. Looking at their faces though it seemed that the offer was serious, although the reluctant look in their eyes at your transformation showed their inner conflict. You straightened your features and shook your head, the amused smile still on your lips.

"Look, I'm not exactly on brand for you guys anymore." You leaned forward with your arms on the table and landed your eyes squarely on Bucky's, the venom unmistakable. "Besides, I seem to recall I was deemed not cut out for this team."

Bucky felt like his soul left him at your words. There was a Molotov cocktail of emotions raging inside him; surprise, shame, relief, anger, guilt, and longing. It was killing him knowing that he had a hand in how drastically you had changed. He was deathly afraid of finding out your full story. He wanted to talk to you, wanted to beg for your forgiveness and make things right. How many chances would anyone get to redeem oneself with a ghost? He couldn't find the words though, his throat going dry and his tongue heavy in his mouth.

"Y/N, you know that's not the truth," Steve tried to insist.

"I'm not Y/N anymore and I already have a team." You waved a hand dismissively. "Also your 12 minutes are up."

All at once the power cut out in the Compound, drenching the room into darkness punctuated by the flashing emergency lights. You felt yourself get lifted off your seat and the next moment you were standing behind a formation of Avengers in the arms of the resident speedster, your arms on his chest to steady yourself from the daze of the sudden movement. His muscles were tense beneath your hands but his expression was gentle as he looked down at you.

He had wanted to rush over to you the moment you revealed your face. He wanted to hold you, jump for joy, speed around the entire city with you in his embrace. How you were alive didn't matter to him.

Only that you were.

It was only at Wanda's warning for him to stay back that he did. She showed him that you weren't the same person anymore and that they weren't sure whether you would still be friend or foe. To Pietro though, you weren't different.

You were just angry.

To him you were still his little star despite the others thinking you were closer to a supernova now. His little star was just hurting and he decided that he would do everything in his power to help you heal. He held your head tighter to his chest, intending to protect you from the anticipated danger and ready to get you to safety at a moment's notice.

"What the damn hell is going on?" Sam yelled, readying his guns.

A figure silently jumped through the window and rolled on the floor to stop right in front of the group, jolting the Avengers to defend. He stood to full height and took a fighting stance; clad in head to toe red, billy clubs at the ready, and horns glinting in the sparse light atop his head.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

"Let Nemesis go," he growled.

Natasha stepped forward, snapping her own batons in place. The crackling of the electricity from it sent lights to dance on the menacing expression on her face. The rest of the team watched closely the other entry points, expecting more to come in and if the first was any indication then they were in for a real fight.

Footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway, loud and not at all trying to be concealed. Walking straight through the front door, were two towering men in heavy military gear each holding an assault rifle aimed at the group. The sneer on one lent a dangerous taunting aura to his surprisingly handsome features as if to say just fucking try me. While the other had a burning steely focus that instinctively made anyone back off, the emblem on his black vest told them exactly who he was.

The Punisher.

The Avengers snapped to attention, each one drawing their weapons and aiming back. The air was crackling with animosity and fingers that itched to pull their respective triggers. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the first to break the standoff in the enclosed space. Willing for someone to break it.

You laughed.

The disorientation at your reaction was palpable across the room. You patted Pietro's chest, grinning up at him in reassurance that everything was fine. He released you from his hold reluctantly and let you step out of the protective cluster they had inadvertently formed around you. The three newcomers visibly relaxed the slightest bit at the sight of you.

"Weapons down," you said calmly, eyeing each one in the room. No one budged. "All of you. Now."

Steve being the first one to lower his shield was the catalyst in diffusing what could have been the fight of the century. As outnumbered as the newcomers were, they lacked nothing in skill and precise brutality. Frank followed in lowering his weapon and soon everyone did the same. There was still tension but at least it was now reduced to intense glaring.

You tutted and shook your head as you strutted your way to your three rescuers. "What I needed was a ride home, Frankie. Not a goddamn full extraction op."

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, not sounding at all apologetic and knowing you weren't really angry if the tired amusement on your face was anything to go by.

He smiled at you, that small open quirk at the corner of his mouth that was always accompanied by a roll of his tongue. He reached for you when you got close enough, drawing you close with a burly arm around the back of your shoulders. He kissed you on the forehead, a lingering gesture that clearly showed an intimacy between the two of you. The soft look on his face was reserved only for you and when he raised his face to the Avengers it was back to the cold threatening glare.

"Can you blame us though?" His voice came out gravelly, a favorite sound of yours. "The last time you were with these guys you were captured and tortured."

Tortured.

The word hung heavy in the air and though your back was turned, you could imagine the look on the faces of your former team. They didn't know about that yet. How could they when they had believed all this time that you died in the explosion?

"You forgot to mention blown up," Matt added, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his lips.

He removed his helmet, floppy brown hair instantly softening his persona. He peppered kisses on your palm and the inside of your wrist as he breathed in your scent to calm his own anxiety. He almost lost it when Billy had called saying that you had been taken. He was usually the last one to jump to immediate violence in your group, but the thought of you gone filled him with irrational fear. The possibility that history could repeat itself was unacceptable to him.

"I should have come with you."

"I could handle it and Billy was with me."

"Lot of good that did," he scoffed, switching to lightly biting your wrist. This wasn't unusual. Being blind, he relied on a more intense physical reassurance that everything was still as it should be.

"They weren't gonna hurt me, Matty," you argued, but it was more to help settle his nerves.

"All right, leave the foreplay for later," the last of the trio said, pulling you by your other hand closer to him.

He held you tightly by the waist and pressed you close, molding your body to his in a practiced motion. The smile on his face was scandalous and the mischief in his eyes was one that spelled trouble. The cheeky bastard winked at you before dipping his head to lay open mouthed kisses on your neck up to your ear right along your old scars. Shivers went down your spine and you couldn't help the low hum as your body reacted instinctively to him, stepping closer still until you could feel the heat of his body through his gear.

You knew exactly what he was doing. He was always the quickest to show affection in front of company, but this was a particularly golden opportunity for him to stake his claim in front of people he believed did not value you enough. Billy wouldn't be Billy if he didn't take it.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Across the room, the Avengers watched on with blatant curiosity at the apparent intimately familiar exchanges. It wasn't as much the fact that three men were bathing you with affection, but more that this cemented how far removed you were from their memory of you. They knew you as a starry-eyed recruit who stuttered at light teasing and preening at the slightest validation.

"Y/N," Steve called for you, forcing you to step away from Billy for the moment. You turned around to face them but Billy didn't let you go far, slinging his arm over your chest and this time contorting his body to yours.

"I told you, Steve. I'm not Y/N anymore," you said, a fleeting sadness flashed in your eyes before it was replaced with a firm pride. "And this is my team."

"We're taking our girl home," Frank declared, the threat underneath didn't need to be verbalized. If they took you again, it wouldn't end well for anyone.

"Wait!" Steve said urgently, halting your exit. "We'll hire you."

It was a last ditch effort. He was grasping at straws to keep you from disappearing from their lives again. He knew that if you walked out that door now there was no chance of ever getting you back. He just could not let that happen. This would only be temporary at best, but at least it would buy him time to convince you of a more permanent arrangement.

"Not interested."

"Nem." Matt as usual cautioned you from being too hasty. "Is this about the syndicates?"

You sighed. Matt was like a dog with a bone now. There was no choice but to let him chew on it. This was particularly important to him because the syndicates had been running amok in Hell's Kitchen and he was starting to find it difficult to keep his backyard clean.

"Yeah, apparently the stuff we found in the shipment yard was for making super soldier serums. The Avengers have been following the trail too."

"Why not just join forces then? We can get this done and over with a lot faster with their help," he reasoned.

"We're doing fine on our own, Matty."

"Matt has a point, sweetheart," Frank cut in. "We've been chasing this for years. I know a part of you is just itching to end all of this."

"It might help us find him faster. Do you really want to spend another ten years pulling at threads?" Matt added.

You closed your eyes, hands clenching at your sides to control your anger. It grated at you when they ganged up on you like this, but your anger was more because they were right and you knew it. You hated it, but they were right.

It was Billy who intervened, pulling you again to hug you from behind. His hold was firmer than before, aimed more to calm your shaking body. His voice came out calm, but resolute. His first priority was always making sure you were okay and you obviously weren't okay with this.

"You heard the lady. It's a no."

Frank and Matt sighed and shook their heads, but backed off. They weren't about to push you about this no matter how much they knew this would help you. They'll try again to convince you later, but they weren't optimistic. It was fortunate for them that there was more than just one stubborn person in the room.

"Please," Steve interrupted. You had almost forgotten that there were other people in the room. Almost. "We need your help. They have someone who keeps getting in our way and every time we get close he either fights us long enough for the trail to grow cold or leads us on wild goose chases. We can't let that serum be available to whoever can pay for it."

He didn't know what it was that he said that made all of your heads snap in his direction. Your eyes in particular were suddenly wild with barely restrained fury. He would take it. At least he had your attention.

"We can't let that happen, Nemesis," he finished, making sure to use your preferred name. Anything to possibly get himself into your good graces.

"Do you have a name?" you ground out.

"What?"

"A name, Steve. Do you know who this guy is?"

"By the way he fights he seems to be a merc too. Looks like military background though from where I'm not sure," he said slowly, carefully choosing his words in the hopes of you changing your mind. "He goes by Salvacion."

"We're in."

Earth's Mightiest was stunned at the sudden reversal of your decision. As firm as you had rejected the offer, you were jumping at it now with the addition of your own team.

"Let's get one thing straight though, Cap," you began, the rage still burning in your eyes like wildfire. "My team and I will work with you. It's all of us or none of us. We'll help you lock up the syndicates and destroy the serum. We'll play nice, but Salvacion is mine."

Steve took a deep breath, relieved that you had agreed but also deeply concerned at your visceral reaction to a name. He had to ask.

"Why?"

"Because that's the motherfucker who killed my sister."

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

A/N: I feel like you guys have more questions now. Come freak out with me through the comments and reblogs! I write faster when people freak out with me. It’s the truth. Now that you’ve seen our girl with ALL our strapping men, what do you think? Who are you most curious about now?

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

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[legguk]

Hi!! So,

it's my ( literal ) first time writing fanfiction, so I'm pretty new at this stuff, but Lady Dimitrescu is all I was able to think about for weeks and I >needed< to do something about it.

( If you want some context, I wrote this thinking “what if Alcina survived?” - Alcina's pov )

———

The fall,

The end of everything you once loved

Ethan Winters.

You woke up... somehow, you woke up. The frigid air hitting your fresh wounds felt like a jolt send by reality, as if one says "you're still alive" -

- and oh how you were starting to hate that feeling.

Laying on the demolished floor of your castle, muscles twitching in pain, mouth open gasping for air... that's how you are, how you will remember yourself from now on. A defeated dragon, a crushed woman, a dead mother.

You should get up, you should let go of your carcass and crawl your way back into the warmth of your home, you should—

—you should be dead, actually. Resting on death's cold embrace along with your daughters.

Daughters.

God, your daughters.

The memories flood your mind with a painful, unbearable reminder; they're gone, dead, crystalized - gone. They're gone. Your lovely daughters, your pride and joy, the main reason you'd open up your eyes in the morning...

...Bela,

Cassandra,

Daniela....

Their names are long cold, not yet forgotten - no, never forgotten - but somewhere else, as they don't belong here anymore; not on your arms, tucking them to bed. Not on your hands, caressing their faces. Not on your lips, kissing their foreheads. Not on your tongue, as you say them.

A raspy scream leaves your throat, it sounds disturbing.

You sob, hot tears trailing down your cheeks and neck, small cries for help find their way into the wind, disappearing with less importance then when they materialized.

You cannot recall for how long you stayed at that very same position, perhaps some hours, perhaps a day, but you are certain that at some point you were overcame by tiredness and collapsed - probably the best to do for now.

xxx

And so, rises the moon and the stars watch upon your limp body, the night howling a merciful wind and singing a melodic song. Grunting, you push yourself up with your elbows, sitting up and facing the sky through the hole you've made on the roof... and the levels above...

A huge carcass sits besides you, it's wings bended on itself and it's big mouth open to whoever would like to have a peek; you probably changed back into your normal body while unconscious... Now that you can see it clearly, you notice the damage that man-thing did to you... by heavens, how were you still alive and...

Oh. The castle. You look forward, taking in the horizon - the stars look exclusively shiny tonight - you breath in, the dusty air causes you to chough a few times. Stretching your neck a bit to see your whole house, you tell yourself it looks.. fine, actually, ignoring the broken windows. The broken windows.

It's cold. You shiver harshly, panting as the air meets your bare back and rumbles through your lungs, making you hug yourself, - you're naked, you just realized - the winter in Romania is truly kind to no one.

Your legs tremble with just the thought of trying to stand on your feet. You don't rush to do it either, let the wintry breeze take in your wounds, make it sting, burn it, freeze it; freeze your body along.

“To die. To die is to live. To live without them, that's torture. To live without their presence, absent of their scents, to not hear them, nor see their faces again, that's worse than death; far, far worse. How could I ever walk into that damned house without the heavenly sounds of their laughs, the tapping of their feet as they walk free, the steadiness of their heartbeats, reminding me that my own still beats.

Beats for them. For them only.

And they're gone.

So who shall my heart beat for? Myself? No, that wouldn't do. I will rip it out from my chest if I must, sacrifice it to any god who may hear me, all so I could spend five more minutes with them. Then I'd die in peace and find them at my arms again at whatever comes after this poor life.

But I'm here.”

You still hold yourself as you stare at a castle's - broken - window, new warm tears hanging the same trail the old and now dry ones did, a silent cry.

Your intrusive thoughts were abruptly cut by a loud noise from the inside of the castle, making you jump up, gathering all your last strengths to stand and walk a few shaky steps closer to home. The more you walked, the louder the noises got; a little rustle became a bang, and your tiptoing became a sprint, you hold yourself as tight as you can, ignoring the bleeding, the cold air spiking your lungs, how insanely fast you heartbeat was. You need to get there, protect the last remnant of them you still have.

The gates felt heavy now, even for you, who would open them with one hand. Where is your strength now? The fearless dragon who'd do anything to protect her house? Perhaps she died on that fall, and now all there's left is a shadow of what you were one day.

With much pain, you open the big doors, leading to the comfort of your house; you don't get in, you throw yourself in. The warm atmosphere engulfed you like a summer kiss on a winter storm, all you needed to ground yourself to reality for now. Grabbing some sheets laying over an old counter, you wrap yourself in it – oh, that's gonna get soaked in blood, but that's not of your concern now – moving incredibly fast for someone as hurt as yourself, you follow the continuous sounds that could not mean something good. The main doors are open, the cellar is unlocked as well, that idiotic man-thing couldn't even close the doors once he finished slaughtering your home? Imbecile.

You stand at the library's door now, suddenly frozen; you know what happened in there... do you really want to get in? Are you truly ready to face it again? Maybe you should take a step back and walk away, it would be the most logical decision to take now.

But what is logic when the heart screams? What is the brain for once your emotions take the best of you? You can't walk away. Put some honor on your name. Save the last bit of your daughter that fate is still conceiving you. Your chest rises and falls completely out of coordination, your fists close around the fabric involving your body; get ready, you're going in; gather the last bit of courage you have inside yourself and blast these doors.

And so you do.

You bring those pieces of wood to the ground, the only barrier between you and the reality you couldn't accept; a guttural growl forms in your chest as you see a lycan approach your child's crystalized body; you're blind with ire, sorrow, protectorship - you name it - and it makes you shout at the top of your lungs as you dilacerate the filthy beasts you'd bat your eye at. A bloody trail of corpses marks your way through the castle grounds, your claws dripping with fresh sanguine fluid - which you can't tell if it's from the creatures or from yourself - the crimson path follows you all the way to the other wing of mansion like a spirit who must haunt you for eternity.

You scream like a feral animal, blood soaking the once white cloth around your form; the scream becomes a shriek, which descends to a yelp, ending as a furious cry. You can feel the anger leaving you, like the waters of a waterfall; explosive, big portions of water falling into a numb, deaden lake. Hopefully those waters will carry you with them, you shall fall and sink at a anesthetizing lagoon.

You kneel, eyes closed, eyebrows frowned; a loud sigh fills the deafening silence in the air, your mind is blank – better, your mind is red, scarlet red mixed with black, ire and grief. Slowly, your head lower itself so you're facing the floor.

The big Lady Dimitrescu,

kneeling on a pool of blood, defeated.

•

“Lady Dimitrescu!”

Who..? The voice was so far yet so close, you try your best to focus on the direction of the calls but your nerves just won't cooperate.

“Lady!”

Who would be calling for you? Is your mind playing tricks on you now? And since when you were laying on the floor? Too many questions for too little answers. You try to stand up, but a sharp pain on your side made you cry out and fall on your back, face knotted in pain – perhaps your adrenaline rush was keeping you from feeling what was really happening with your body, and now you feel like you're betraying yourself for that.

A small figure approaches you in a fast pace, causing you to unleash your claws one more time and snarl at the not-so-possible threat; you were hurt. Vulnerable. Letting someone close was the last thing you wanted now. The humanoid thing backs away a few steps with your aggressive reaction, hands on their chest, visibly afraid – even though your vision is quite blurry, you identify their expression: scared, desperate, sorrowful – they call out once more, almost shouting.

“Please, Lady Dimitrescu, let me help!”

Ah... Help... The now clearer feminine voice washes over you - a wave of compassion - as if hope has found its way to your house again. Well, it better go away again, or you'll drag it out yourself.

“Out.” was all that left your lips, your intense gaze locking with hers, a silent yet not so discrete warning; although you had only said one word, it was well understood by the woman, who stepped away, eyes still meeting yours, a dreadful cast hang on her face.

Still, she didn't left.

Is that girl testing her luck? It can only be. Once again you warn her: “Leave. I will not repeat myself.”

Her posture stiffens, after a moment of silence she looks at the door, truly wondering about leaving or not; her body turns around, her knuckles going white from how hard she was grabbing the fabric on her chest – she's conflicted. But why? Who is she, after all? – A long, defeated sigh leaves her, as if she knows there is no choice left.

“Allow me to help.” A failed effort on trying to sound confident; her voice is full of tears and her tone is oscillating – it makes you wonder if she has been crying – The human walks towards you, trying not to make any eye contact; you can't stand on your feet, you left hand is pressed on your injured side, the other is open and directing your now extended nails towards her.

Oh how funny it is, no?

The predator being cornered by the prey. The dragon being trapped by the rabbit. How ridiculous it is.

Her extremely shaky hands hang in front of her, trying to say she won't hurt you – oh if she only knew it's going to be the other way round. – One step closer.. Her lips and chin tremble; Another. Your claws grow bigger, eyes peering through her soul; another step, your eyebrows frown, her eyes are teary. The last step - your blood is boiling hot, your nerves on edge; you are still the predator. - a slicing sound and a half-scream saturate the air for a millisecond, just for silence to overfill it once more. Red splashes over the room again, on your face, on your chest, but mostly on the floor, where the girl was thrown at.

An agonizing scream leaves her throat - what a miracle, she remains alive - both of her hands cover her face, blood spilling all over her; what a sight, you would most definitely enjoy this very much on another situation. She cries out in despair, making you face the ceiling and close your eyes, a tired look on your face – you just want all this to end, you don't have any more patience for this. You want to crawl back into your bed and starve, you want to destroy this place, make it abandoned ruins of what one day was a home; you want to kill that damned sickening man-thing, kill this foolish girl for perturbing your grieving, and then yourself.

The woman captures your attention once again, she is kneeling, her body facing yours, her right hand presses her ripped face, the other makes its slow way up to you, although she is trembling, she manages to keep her hand steady enough to hand you a little green flask with a yellow-y label; You look closer, 'treatment disinfectant' it says... Oh you can only be joking. You feel like slaughtering the girl right this instant, but takes in a deep breath and holds the flask, her hand immediately falling along with her body. Is she dead? No, her slow yet consistent breathing exclaims that she is still alive – you honestly find it a bit offensive – You should, but you cannot bring yourself to finish the human; you should end her suffering, but now she caught your attention; and besides, she wants to help, doesn't she? then the price she'll pay is staying alive.

———

hahaaa I'm so nervous about posting this,,, ,

and yes! It is a alcina x maiden fic! I do plan it to be slow burn, and if some you liked it and read it till here, please like and/or reblog and I'll post chapter 2!

( posted on Ao3! Name: “The woman in your castle” )

( chapter 2 posted!! )

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hi! I love everything that you write and heh I am a fan! 😄 tbh this is my first time requesting something on Tumblr! If you don't mind and if I am not being a bother...can you write about how the guys would react If MC suddenly starts making meme references? I don't know how I got the idea but I am REALLY curious. And love you! :D

Hiya! Tyvm for the kind words, and apologies that this took a while! I hope you have the chance to enjoy it regardless ❤️❤️❤️ Love you too, sweet pea! I promise to get to the next request you’ve sent ASAP~

Aight but this would be hilarious because the range of the reactions is just ungodly. I will be putting this under a cut after Napoleon so I don’t clog up everyone’s dash, but all the suitors are included below otherwise! 

Comte is the one that recognizes a few, but didn’t really stay in modern times long enough to be as well-versed as a Gen Z kid might. Regardless he finds the wittiness and absolute chaotic fuckery to be delightful, and will 100% support the harmless nonsense. It never fails to get a laugh out of him

Mozart that first day be like: “Buzz off MC I hate you” MC, because she likes swinging bats at wasps’ nests: “Well that’s not very cash money of you” Mozart: ?????????? Comte, giggling in the bg like the secret fae he is This one’s just because I’m petty, but after the events of Comte rt I just imagine them encountering Vlad again and MC’s just “I lived bitch.” while Comte is flipping him off behind her lkjahgkjhdsg

Comte @ Leo when he finds the latter under his desk: Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you.  MC: wheezing from the hallway as she’s about to give him his letters

MC: So how was your day, honey? Comte: Good, good--briefly had to go beastmode upon the punk that pilfered my lint roller MC, biting her lip to keep from laughing: So does Leo still have his kneecaps? Comte: for now.

Comte, @ literally anyone upsetting the MC: I won’t hesitate, bitch

Comte: Be careful with my emotional baggage, it’s designer

MC: What if I was evil and ran towards you at very fast speeds Comte: My arms are strong, I would catch and hug you

Leo and Dazai are the ones that don’t have a single reference point but are filled with so much dumbass chaos energy that they just. Understand immediately???? Nobody knows how or why, but they just catch on so fast--adapt the language in a matter of weeks. Never underestimate the power of combined boredom, depression, and humor

I swear to god I just see MC taking them their Blanc/Rouge and being like “here you go sir, one enslaved moisture” and they just go fucking hog wild from day one. MC starts impersonating Theo when he leaves the room around Dazai, like fake deep voice “you all only hate me because you do not like me and I am mean to you. grow up.” Or like the MC meets a baby on her travels with Leo around town and she holds them and says v seriously and sagely “So you are Baby? I have heard tales of your exploits.” and Leo about loses his shit right there. They both think MC is the funniest person alive--they’ve never been more eager to throw a ring at someone in their entire life.

Also a bonus for my beloved Dazai:  MC, facing even the slightest inconvenience (like dropping her fork) in the most dramtic voice possible: Life is not daijoubu. Dazai: wheezing

MC, after watching Theo turn down a woman at the bar in the meanest way possible: bro quit letting the darkness consume you u r scaring the hoes Dazai, literally rolling around on the ground, half-drunk and dying:

MC, walking alongside Dazai and stopping to stare at her reflection in the River Seine. Dazai’s expecting some sad or twisted shit, since people often feel comfortable talking about those things around him, but instead she just: “Oh, it’s you. The source of all my problems.” And he about falls into the river from shock HAHAHA

At this point don’t be surprised if his next book is about an absolute madlad woman similar to MC

Napoleon finds it to be a delightful quirk more than anything? He doesn’t really understand it, but he finds it funny when they change their voice for effect or speak in exaggerated tones. If it’s just comprehensible enough for an outsider to understand--or Sebas gives him context--chances are it’ll send him into a laughing fit

For this one I just imagine MC singing that Ratatouille meme song obnoxiously bad while cooking, and Napoleon and Comte are just so wildly amused by it bc it makes zero sense and it’s only vaguely French at this point

MC @ Napoleon while they’re cooking brunch: Can I offer you a nice egg in these trying times?

MC, conflicted because she’s tired and wanted to sleep in but also got to see Napo’s cute sleeping face for a few hours: For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5AM on the day I can sleep in. Sebas: Early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy, wealthy, and wise MC: early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch Napoleon: laughing in agreement

Isaac is the type to be bewildered and concerned at first (especially when he hears the more nihilistic ones hoOOOoooOO BOY) but eventually begins to understand it’s some bizarre attempt at humor (that hurts Zack baby). While some part of him laments that it reminds him of Dazai and he’s secretly jealous of how she and Dazai bond over it, he will sometimes join in the chaos when the mood strikes him and he’s feeling mischievous

Isaac: How are you feeling? MC: Oh, I’m not Isaac: seconds from dialing 911 Isaac: Are you okay? MC: Oh yeah dw I just suffer from that syndrome where your neutral expression makes you look like you’re an angry serial killer Isaac: say sike rn

Isaac, tutoring MC and correcting something:  MC, muttering while redoing it: The risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math. Isaac: unable to help a laugh

One time MC was avoiding Isaac for fear of hurting his feelings and he just confronts her like: Isaac: back by unpopular demand, me! What’s wrong, MC pls MC was so hecking proud of him

Isaac, telling MC about a recent discovery he learned at uni from another professor: bones typically heal stronger after they’ve been broken--so long as they’re set properly, of course MC, looking him dead in the eyes: So what you’re saying is that I should break every bone in my body until I become superhumanly powerful? Isaac: please do not, no

Mozart and Jeanne are just. Totally lost. Why are you talking like that??? Why are you making “crab hands”???? They don’t understand. Maybe never will. They reach a point where they just kind of laugh and shake their heads, endeared by the oddity after they’re used to it and have determined it isn’t a threat/insult. 

MC: It’s a cold and it’s a brooooken, Waluigi. Waaaaluigiiiii...waaaahluigi..... Mozart: surprised, then starts snickering and playing along on the piano

Arthur, asking MC very personal questions out loud because he is an idiot sometimes: Soooo MC, are you a top or a bottom? MC: I’m a threat. (If he asks a second time, the response will be “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy.”) Jeanne, fighting a smile:

MC, about to punch an asshole: Your free trial of being alive has ended Jeanne, seconds from laughing for the first time in 100 years:

Also, because I genuinely can’t help myself. You know that knight meme like “Parry this you fucking casual.” I cannot stress enough that it is literally the personification of Jeanne’s entire character. I’m not even joking.

Arthur and Shakespeare are utterly fascinated by the rapid evolution of wordplay and the sheer hilarity. They will ask all about these so-called “memes” and ask for examples of them if MC can show them (either somehow accessing her phone or drawing them). MC draws Arthur the knife cat meme and he about a s c e n d s at the hilarity of it all, points and yells THEO IS HOLDING THE KNIFE. He is correct. They will be delighted and follow along eagerly, and--god forbid--will make their own based on late 19th century struggles.

Is this where Shakespeare got the idea for “What, you egg? stabs him” and “You are a saucy boy.”? I’m too scared to ask. Don’t even get me started on “The Fool jingled miserably across the floor.” That one is just too on the nose...

I can’t even imagine what would happen to Shakespeare if MC like translated vines and memes into Ye Olde English around him. Imagine she’s at one of those noble balls and hears rumors of these two guys living together and they’re so obviously gay and he says “And those gents w’re roommates.” And in the most false surprised tone ever MC just replies “oh mine own god, those gents w’re roommates.” Imagine having a wife that’s just as hilarious as you are and hits you with all the force of a bag of wet mice every time you speak in retaliation, he’s going into palpitations.

Every time Arthur does smth stupid MC just: “I Pretend I Do Not See It.”

Vincent is tickled pink by MC’s penchant for finding joy and/or amusement in nearly everything they do, and he smiles gently when he sees them muttering and laughing to themselves. He wants to be able to join them in what they love, but he has a harder time following along and understanding the darker humor sometimes. Mostly gets confused??? Please give him the easier ones to mimic and laugh when he tries--or just include him in your jokes MC. He’s babie your honor...

But he also. Will not. Stand any kind of self-deprecation or borderline verbal self-harm. He’s usually very easygoing and calm, but for whatever reason that stuff makes him go deathly quiet and upset.

MC, after something goes horribly wrong, hugging Vincent: Oh Vince, we really in it now Vincent: giggling a little despite his worries, relaxing

MC: Theo stop simping for Vincent that’s my job

MC, when Theo leaves the room and she gets Vincent all to herself: The evil is defeated.

MC: And this is where I would put my will to live...if I h a d one! Vincent: ;-; MC: oh shit, oh fuck, I was only kidding Vincent wait (MC was subsequently lectured and loved on for many hours)

Theo is conflicted because on the one hand, he loves to see you smiling and having fun. On the other, you’re clowning as hard as Dazai and Arthur and he can only handle so many monkeys in his circus. Most of the time he will roll his eyes and be the straight man of this comedy, but you might find him cracking a smile--or accidentally letting a chuckle slip past his lips now and again.

MC, after meeting Theo: I’m a nice person, but I’m about to start throwing rocks at people.

Theo, those first days: Oh? You’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me? MC: I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.

Theo: Every time I ask MC to explain “vibe check” to me she hits me with some kind of improvised weapon

MC, after the “incident” (you know the one): This year, I lost my dear lover Theo Theo, in the distance: QUIT TELLING EVERYONE I’M DEAD! MC: ;-; sometimes I can still hear his voice...

Sebastian is last because oh boy. OH BOYYYYY I LOVE HIM. Okay so the way I see this happening with Sebastian is just. So wild. Because at first he’s t r y i n g so hard to be the proper butler man. He does not meme. But then he starts to drift closer to what Niles from The Nanny was, where he’ll quip and joke in private or when the situation is just beyond the amount of absurdity he can handle without making a snarky comment. Everyone in the house can’t fathom how Sebas and MC got so close so fast, but there are points where they’re just “Are they even speaking English anymore???” It’s 11 times funnier than normal because Sebas almost never smiles or laughs when memeing, the deadpan quality of his playing along sends MC every time

Has ABSOLUTELY said “HEY. PANINI HEAD. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME???” jokingly when MC made a mistake in the kitchen. They laugh about it for y e a r s

MC: I can’t date someone who keeps a lamb as a pet, that’s so weird Sebas, brushing Lotte in front of MC: MC: MC: Okay, I will make an exception because she looks very polite

MC and Sebas, fully aware of the fame some of the men will reach in modern times: We will watch your career with great interest.  (I s2g that’s like half of Sebas’ rt right there I’m crying)

Sebas rt with Lotte be like that 500 dollar Mareep meme: “sometimes a family can be just a boy, his gf, and their 500 dollar two foot tall Lotte”

[honey-makki]

Firsts

Characters: Tsukishima Kei X Fem!Reader

Summary: Fate works in mysterious ways to bring people who are destined to be together, to actually be together. 

Warnings: Sex!! blow jobs, face riding, virginity loss 

Genre: fluff, smut

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Well this started as a drabble request but here I am a week later with a 5k fic about it. Soft tsukki inbound. I hope you enjoy @salty4tsukki bc I def enjoyed writing this.

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

Being an only child is not a precursor to being lonely. Memories of family game nights, shared dinners and movies watched filled the air of your house letting you know that you were both never alone and, oh, so loved. 

You knew that having as healthy a home environment was unusual and that it was part of the reason that you are so emotionally intelligent. Many of your peers couldn’t stand their parents and found every excuse to avoid being home. Sure, you and your parents had arguments about curfew or the number of texts you sent every month. The last argument happened every time you brought home a grade that was unsatisfactory, which wasn’t often, but consistent enough that it was a recurring problem. 

“I’m just tired of them expecting me to be perfect! It’s unreasonable for them to expect perfect grades, being on a starter for the soccer team, and involved in other clubs! I’m only one person.” You ranted to Tsukki, sulking around his room before plopping on his bed, arms covering your sighing face.  Tsukki was the only person you came to with family problems because you knew he would understand and not push you. The usually sassy boy always softened these days, knowing that this was the one thing that you couldn’t handle being teased about. Today, he looked at you with soft pity, knowing the amount of work you put towards everything just to be told it’s not enough.

“I could tutor you in English if you want? I know we have our usual pre-exam study sessions, but I really don’t mind making them more regular if you think they would help.” Tsukki might listen to you complain but he still isn’t the best at empathy, rather resorting to problem-solving. He showed his care and compassion to you subtly. Offering his solutions in a way you could make them sound like your own, knowing that provided a semblance of comfort. Allowing you into his room whenever you needed to complain and not questioning your feelings. Always offering you a hoodie or jacket when you were worn out from crying, knowing that the warmth would lull you into a much-needed sleep

You knew he cared about you. Yes, sometimes you over exaggerated your feelings to take advantage of that, but only because you wanted his jacket on your body. The thought that it was his arms rather than just a Tsukki scented cloth surrounding you. Only crying a little harder with the hopes he would offer to have a movie night which always meant cuddles. No, you never faked your feelings to him, not wanting to lie to your best friend and consistent childhood companion, you just embellished them.

Relishing in the fact that for maybe, just ten minutes that Tsukki wasn’t just your best friend, that he grew past friends as he aged, and saw you like more, as his other half. The person he wanted to spend not only his childhood years with but also every single one he still had left. 

You aren’t sure when you fell in love with Tsukishima Kei.

It could have been his moment against Shiratorizawa when you saw him truly experience joy for the first time in the sport he spent so much time. It could have been the time he gave you his rain jacket when it was pouring before you walked home, knowing it wouldn’t do much against the downpour, but the barrier being symbolic. It could definitely have been the time you went over to study and you walked in on him singing to himself while studying, the soft tenor notes gracing your ears. You only really remember how his voice made your heart skip a beat, the flush of his ears when he turned around catching your eyes.

All you know is that you were hopelessly in love with the man who had been with you every step, every stumble of your life. The man who towered over you but never made you feel smaller than he, the man that laughed before checking on you when you tripped, but always ensuring you were truly ok. 

Watching him grow into his height and his body gaining muscles during highschool was both a blessing and a curse. Your eyes were drawn to his figure, shoulders hunched over on his desk, deltoids peeking out of the sleeves in a way that made you want more. Yes, you loved looking at him but sometimes it plagued you. 

Eyes scrunched shut and heavy breathing, all you can think about is what Tsukki might look like under those clothes. It was a curse, lewd thoughts of your best friend being the only way you could get off anymore. That didn’t stop you from plunging two fingers in and out for your dripping cunt edging yourself closer to your release. At the precipice, you pull your fingers out and eagerly circle your clit, the other hand moving from gripping the bedsheets to pulling at and groping your nipples. Tsukki’s name leaves your lips like a fervent prayer as you cum to the thought of him. You never felt worse about yourself than you did at this moment, but somehow you found yourself here regularly. 

You didn’t know that at that exact same moment Tsukki was in his room thinking about you. The way your smaller hands would fit around his dick, the hesitation you might experience but be driven forward by lust. The thought of being the first and maybe the only person to touch you always drives him to his release. 

He might have fooled around with some girls before, a handjob here and there, amidst a make-out session, but he could never find it in himself to go further. He couldn’t, no, didn’t want to be with anyone else, because he knew that the whole time he would be thinking about you under him.

As you had aged, sleepovers became less frequent but were something the two of you still cherished and actively made time for. Tonight is one such night, having just finished your final midterms and gorging yourself on celebratory ramen from your favorite shop. Tsukki’s parents were out of town for the week, but were used to your presence in the house and didn’t mind you being over. 

You being there should have been fine, nothing out of the normal but that's not how fate works. 

Once you arrived at his place you both changed into lounge clothes getting ready to binge the latest season of Game of Thrones. You went to the kitchen to grab you both some water, knowing neither of you will want to get up once you start.

Tsukki must have had the same idea because as you rounded the corner of the kitchen, you were met with a brick wall and a frigid wave running through your body. You realized it wasn't through your body when your nipples began to harden, peaking through your now translucent shirt. While you are still shocked at the chill, Tsukki looks down to see what happened. Instead what he sees is you, accidentally exposed, the white shirt clinging to the curve of your body like a second layer of skin.

He knows that if he doesn’t avert his gaze that he won't be able to suppress a rising tent in his pants. Committing the image to memory quickly, he apologizes for being in the way, “Shit Y/N, I’m sorry. Feel free to go grab one of my shirts to change into. I’ll clean the mess up.” With that, he moves towards the kitchen to grab a towel, brushing against your body in the narrow hallway.

You head up to his room and go to his dresser, you’ve watched him put his laundry away before, knowing exactly where he keeps his biggest and most comfortable shirts. You strip off your shirt, skin pebbling at the breeze from his fan. Blushing at the fact you are taking your clothes off in your crush childhood friend room, you strip off your lounge shorts now noticing they also have been soaked.

As you pull his practice jersey on you notice it reaches your midthigh, which causes a brief internal conflict. Should I grab a pair of his shorts even though I know they’ll be too big? This shirt is longer than my shorts were anyways, but it’s not the most decent thing. The deciding factor in opting for no shorts was nothing to do with you, rather with the man waiting patiently downstairs. It had everything to do with the glint of intrigue in Tsukki’s eye you spotted earlier, the almost imperceptible hitch in his breath, and the burning touch he left on your body as he passed you in the hallway. 

Tsukki was not even thinking about what you would look like in his clothes as he had more urgent problems. His cock was achingly hard in his sweatpants, the gray not doing him any favors of hiding how he felt about seeing your body. He was doing everything he could think of to suppress both the thoughts of you and blood rushing downstairs. 

After quickly cleaning up the spill, he got situated on the couch with a blanket hoping it would help hide his current problem as he got it under control. Tsukki spent the remaining time of your absence struggling to distract himself, reciting poetry meditating, anything to not think about it, think about you, think about the curve of your che- fuck he was failing.

His eyes shot open at your weight landing next to him on the couch. Subtly looking over your form, that he now has burned into the back of his eyelids, seeing you drowning in his clothes, his volleyball clothes. Wait, is she just wearing my shirt? His gaze lingering on the soft expanse of your thighs, knowing that he should be able to see the hem of your shorts with the way you are sitting. The thought of you in your underwear almost makes him moan, his already hard dick twitching with precum budding at the tip.

You shoot him a smile, apologizing for taking so long and say you're ready to watch if he is. After some time has passed, the air is nipping at on your still slightly wet skin, you scoot closer to Tsukki and get under the blanket with him. The slight abrasion from his sweats on your skin sent electricity tingling throughout your body and unknowingly did the same to him. 

Reaching forward to grab a glass of water after a particularly gruesome scene, your phone tumbled out of your lap. Not really thinking you lean forward and grab it, slightly raising your ass into the air to reach the last few inches. You plop back down with a grunt and throw your arms open, hoping Tsukki would know that this is your way of saying you needed to take a break from the show for a bit.

Neither of you expected the moan that escaped his lips as you brushed across his now very obvious erection. Neither of you knew what to do after either, he flushed red with embarrassment and hid his face, you with your arm still where it landed on his thigh, unable to move. “Y/N, can you please move?.” he barely chokes out. The obvious restraint in his voice was a sound you had only previously daydreamed of. 

Driven by lust, or excitement, maybe even fear that another opportunity would arise, you do move, but not in the way he had intended. You get up off the couch and he's sure that you are getting ready to leave, disgusted with him, but instead, you settle in on your knees between his thighs. Doey-eyes looking up through your lashes with hesitant excitement. “Ok, I’ve moved, what next?”

Is the one thing he dreamed about is really happening? The actuality of it seems almost incredulous. “Y/N, stop joking, I’m sorry about this. They just kinda, happen sometimes.” He can’t meet your eye because he’s sure he would cum just from the sight of you between his legs. 

“If you don't want me here Kei, I’ll move, but I’m serious.” As you say his first name, another moan comes from his throat, spurring you to action. Biting your lip, you move the blanket and hesitantly grasp his erection. 

Tsukki is hazy with confusion but simultaneously everything is crystal clear with pleasure, unable to focus on anything due to the duality inside his head. Even if he wanted to tell you to stop, to stop and think, he wouldn’t be able to choke out the words.

He notices you aren’t really moving which is driving him mad until he looks down and sees just how pure you look. “Kei, I don’t-- I don’t really know what to do. Just tell me what you like and I’ll do my best.”

“Princess, are you sure you still want to do this?” as he pulls you up to eye level, cupping your cheeks. Seeing your nod and nervous smile, he leans forward to kiss you. 

The chill that had previously permeated your body is replaced with warmth, the feeling of his soft lips moving in time with yours, his gentle but assertive grip on your back acting as heat sources. It’s a comfortable warmth, an invitation into him.

You plan on taking that invitation as he deepens the kiss, one hand in the hair at his nape, the other returning to palm him through his sweats. As he stops your kiss, holding in a groan you take that opportunity to return to your original position in front of him. Waiting patiently, looking up at him for instruction with an absolutely pornographic gaze. 

Tsukki thought the image of your chest was the best thing he would ever see, but this takes the cake. Your hands playing with the waistband, with slight hesitation before pulling both his bowers and sweats down with his assistance. 

You knew what a dick looked like, but that doesn’t mean you are any less intimidated when one is just a few inches from your face. Long and curved, a prominent vein running up to the head that is flushed red and slick with precum. His hand rests on your head with the other on his thigh. Seeing his excitement on his face gives you enough encouragement to kitten lick his tip two times. “Fuck Y/N, please don’t tease me,” his voice wavering between a moan and a whine, you’ve never heard him sound so dependent, so needy before. 

Knowing that you are the one doing this to him gives you the confidence to start taking his dick in your mouth. You pause at the head, moving your tongue around, unsure what feels good until his grip on your head tightens as you rub against the bottom, just before the shaft. “Fuck pretty girl, please move your head down, please I wan--” A groan cuts him off as you follow his command. Slowly starting to bob along a portion of his length, with increasing speed.

“Spit on your hand and stroke the rest, god your mouth is heavenly” after pulling off to follow his command, you finally notice the familiar Tsukki-induced burning in your stomach, but amplified by a hundred when you see his cock twitch as you spit into your hand. He watched you with half-lidded eyes as you positioned your hand under your mouth, whispering uncharacteristically gentle words of praise.

Soft moans fall out of his mouth as you swirl your tongue around his head on every upward movement. Your hand mimicking the speed of your lips, trying to give him as much pleasure as you can. One particular comment of his shoots straight to your core, “Y/N, I never imagined you would make me feel this good.” The implication of him thinking about this, the same way you have, makes you moan around his dick, which in turn elicits a sharp intake from Tsukki.

His grip has been tightening on your head slowly, but all of a sudden he pulls you off. “Don’t wanna cum in your mouth without asking, just hand me a tissue.”

You never imagined Tsukki making the type of sound he did when you artlessly stuttered out “W-Well you have my permission.” 

Returning your tongue to his tip, which is now angrily red and coated in both spit and precum, it only takes a few seconds before he bucks into your mouth as he orgasms. His cock reaches further than you expected resulting in you choking as he hits the back of your throat, unintentionally intensifying his orgasm.

He pulls you off of him, grimacing at the cold air hitting his spent dick, bending forward to look you in the eye.. “Pretty girl, I’m so sorry for that last bit, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you ok?”

The pressure of his thumb wiping off a few spare tears makes you wonder what his touch would feel like on the rest of your body. As your mind delves into lewd thoughts, you shift your thighs looking for some pleasure, and give him an absentminded “It was fine, unexpected but I wanna make you feel good.”

He carefully sits you in his lap and pulls you into a deep kiss, slow but hungry. He moves down your jaw to your neck before whispering “Well, I guess it’s my turn to return the favor huh.” You bite back your moan, but as he harshly sucks a spot at the base of your neck it slips out. “You don’t have to hide your noises, princess, let me know how good everything feels.”

He runs his hands up and down your sides underneath his shirt before they find your chest. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined these.” You tug your shirt off and do the same to him. Both of you are just marveling at the beauty in front of you with lust. 

He makes the first move, gently bringing your right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, as his left-hand switches randomly between rubbing along your side and massaging your left boob. The warmth of his tongue flicking against your pebbled bud is miles better than your own fingers, endless breathy moans falling out of your mouth as you find purchase for your hands in his hair. 

You must be unconsciously rutting against him because he stops his ministrations and stills your hips with a harsh grip. “Feeling needy now? Let me take care of you.” Tsukki rolls you off of him and you expect him to get on his knees in front of you, making you clench your knees both out of excitement and embarrassment. 

So when he lays down on the floor in front of you and shoots you a smug smirk, “Come take a seat,” your jaw drops in shock. 

“No, Tsukki, you don't have- What if I don’t taste good, please don’t worry about it-I don't want to suffoc-”  excuses and concerns pour out of your mouth but your body betrays you at the thought of him licking your sex.

“Y/N. Get over here. I want to do this and I’ll ensure you enjoy it.” His tone was commanding enough that you moved from the couch to straddling his head without a thought, losing your panties along the way. Your mind is murky with lust and anticipation, thoughts of how many times you’ve imagined his tongue on your clit being the only thing breaking through the fog. 

His tongue pierces through the haze as he runs the flat of it along your entire soaked core. Your body wants to pull away from the pressure but buck into the pleasure at the same time but Tsukki makes the decision for you, wrapping his arms around your thighs so you are snug against his face. 

He repeats the action, trying to coax a moan out of you, adding a little more force each time. It isn’t until the bridge of his nose brushes your clit that you finally let out the noises you’ve held in. “Kei- hi- fuck- higher,” breathy moans coat your words in lust.

 “Your wish is my command, princess.” His smug tone would have been annoying except for the fact that he was pressing hesitant licks against your clit eventually circling it with the tip of his tongue. You have no control over the whines you are making, only broken up by saying “yes Kei, yes, fuck” and other words of praise

Knowing how it felt when you moaned around his dick, he tries humming with his lips surrounding your clit and if he wasn’t already hard, he sure is now after the way you lewdly moaned his name and fiercely tugged his hair. 

The view of your tits heaving along with your breaths drive him to be a little more aggressive with his tongue, mercilessly switching between toying with your folds to harshly drawing shapes into your clit. 

Your cunt is drowning Tsukki in slick, coating his face and chin and he’s never been happier. Sucking your folds and using his tongue to taste all of you. He can't believe that anything has ever tasted better than you do right now.  

He can tell by the legs squeezing his head, and the shake of your entire body you are close to your orgasm. Wanting to try something new, he slides his tongue into your hole, causing you to grip his blonde locks so hard, you probably pulled some out. 

The wanton moans reverberating through the room are the only encouragement he needs to keep pressing his tongue against your tight walls. Your cunt so desperately wants to be filled its almost sucking his tongue in, but you know that alone won’t be enough to make you cum.

“ ‘m close, fuck. Please my clit, Kei please” The loss of his pressure in your cunt is overridden by the shockwaves of his lips around your clit, paired with him tracing letters and a deep moan from his throat. That was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. His moan continues as you ride out your high, hips jerking forward at the intensity.

As he pulls you into a sitting position on his lap, “Obviously I didn’t need instructions on how to make you feel good. I’ve thought about this for years.” You aren’t clear-headed enough to slap him like you usually would. All you can think about is the painful tension already building again in your core and his painfully hard dick pressed into your thigh.

You pull him into a kiss that conveys your unspoken words. Full of need and lust and wanting to make up for all of the time you lost. Your lips meet his harshly, like if you stop that it might disappear, afraid to pull back for air.

As he moves to your neck you instinctively rut your hips against him, looking for some form of release. Growling into your ear, “Oh, so one wasn't good enough for you? You want another orgasm?” 

“Well, It’s obvious you want another one,” matching his smugness with another roll that causes him to groan.

Before you can recognize it, he's flipped you over on your back and is hovering over you, eyes committing every inch of you to memory, drinking in the sight of your body, pebbled nipples, slick coating your thighs, love marks he's left thus far. It’s almost enough to make him go feral. 

Almost. 

“Y/N, are you sure you want to do this? We can stop. I really don’t mind.” The concern in his voice is clearly fighting against the lust, just barely winning over his more carnal desires. His answer comes in the form of your hand grabbing his dick and giving it a few soft, needy strokes.

“Please Tsukki, I need you in me. I’ve thought about this for so long, no way am I stopping” 

“Alright pretty girl,” and with that he returns to your deep kiss, your lips feeling like a home he never knew he left. He brings his hand down to your core, ghosting his fingers on your lips before teasing one finger in slowly. 

You hiss at the pleasure, hands finding stability rooted in his shoulders. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth to help distract you while he rocks it in and out of your pussy. Quickly, he could tell that you were ready for a second and slipped it in, being met with you clawing at his shoulders while letting out a wanton moan.

Tsukki moves to place wet kisses along your neck and down to your chest, sucking every once in a while and then following it with a swipe of his tongue. You miss the pressure on your mouth, but you can feel another orgasm building, and it's getting harder to breathe. 

You genuinely do stop breathing when he takes one nipple in his mouth and uses his free hand to start rubbing circles into your clit. Well, if this is the way I die, I don’t really have any complaints. The coil in your stomach is about to snap and the only warning you can get out is slapping his shoulders.

The wave almost knocks you out, back arching off the floor while also trying to get more from the man between your legs. Inserting a third finger stretched you so good, he watches you try to fuck yourself on his hand through the orgasm, greedily wanting more. 

“You ready, pretty girl? Ready to take my cock?”

“Shit yes, Kei, please fuck me. I’ve dreamed about cumming on your dick, please please--” you are reduced to babbling pleas when he runs his dick along your slit coating himself in your slick. The jolt of pleasure every time his head hits your already over-stimulated bud edges on pain but you don’t want him to stop. 

You see stars and hear symphonies when he thrusts into you. A duet of his staccato grunts and your euphonic moans, accompanied by the fortissimo sounds of your pussy as he slides in. After taking a rest for you to adjust to his girth, his pace starts off slow but gradually increasing as you beg him for more. 

“Fuck, please, fill me up, god I never thought your cock would feel so good, Fuck” 

Your babbling praise is reduced to a high pitched whine when he starts slamming into you harder than before. The heavy slaps of his hips into yours replacing your moans in the melody. You barely process his words as the tip of his cock slams into your cervix with no remorse, over and over and over again. 

“Did I just hear you say you didn’t think my cock would feel good? Do you want to go back to cumming on your fingers to the thought of me or do you want me to continue stretching your tiny little pussy out?” 

Tsukki never minced his words, but the sheer lewdness of them causes heat to rise in your face. “N-no Kei. Please help, shit, me. Wanna cum on your dick so b- so bad.” His answer is to push one of your legs back towards your shoulder, the new position and the curve of his cock has him hitting that spot inside you always struggled to reach. 

Every muscle in your body is tensed up, burning from the desire to cum. Shockwaves of pleasure radiating from your pussy reach the tips of your toes and through every hair on your head. 

Your walls are clenching around him, wanting him deeper, even though there isn’t really any room left for him. Your body is driven by lust and disregards any pain you should be feeling, rather interpreting it as a different octave of pleasure. 

You find your fingers on your chest, groping and tweaking your nipples, knowing that you get even more sensitive when you are ready to orgasm. “Kei, please cum in me, I wanna cum but I wanna, no I need to do it with you,” it sounds more like a moan or a plea than a request, but Tsukki was already struggling to hold back his own orgasm.

He took your lead, moving his mouth down to your chest and rolling your other nipple against his tongue. Simultaneously, he snakes a hand down to your vagina, to the spot you begged him to touch earlier and rubs meticulous circles on your puffy and neglected clit..

Your back arches off the floor at the first touch of your clit, and your cunt clenched around his dick, making it even harder for Tsukki to thrust in and out. Your orgasm is stronger than its ever been, you’re certain you blacked out for a minute, only coming to when you hear a hearty moan from Tsukki and another wave of warmth in your sex, this time coming from him.

His forehead pressed against your chest as he fucks you through both of your orgasms, hand still curling your clit, attempting to extend the euphoria you both feel for as long as he can. Your hands find their way into his hair and you gently tug and scratch his scalp, making him look up at you. 

Your face may be covered in tears, and spit but he’s never looked at you with more adoration. You continue to pull him up to your face, placing sweet kisses all over his face as you both ride out the last waves of your high, his dick still inside of you. Wincing as he pulls out to lay down on the floor, he ends up pulling you into an embrace.

You look over to his content face, illuminated by the television,  eyes closed with a ghost of a smile dancing over his lips before he murmurs, “I never knew Game of Thrones sex scenes were quite so realistic, but I’m not complaining.” 

“God, Tsukki you’re so annoying,” you say trying to shove him off of you with a laugh, but he just holds you tighter. 

“I like it better when you call me Kei.”

Tags

@ceo-of-daichi @roandtheroses @sugawara-sweetheart @nonexistent-social-life​

[raisans-art]

What the Fuck Are these Characterizations: The Essay

Full warning: This is only concerning Tommy's stream made today, 4/29/2021. I know Ranboo has streamed after Tommy but I haven't watched that.

On with the essay.

A lot happened.

Tommy tried to kill Dream, Dream actually killed Ghostbur, Wilbur is back (pog). It's a lot. A lot of plot and a lot of emotions. I will preface this with the usual "holy hell these people are pretty damn good actors for having no formal training as far as I'm aware." They get their emotions across very clearly and that's kinda why I'm making this in the first place. The way some of the characters acted in Tommy's 4/29 stream is a bit odd in my opinion.

Now, I will concede that I have not been diligent with the Dream SMP lore. I've been given broad strokes and have seen various clips but I have definitely not been on top of it. I may have missed streams entirely and you all more avid fans may be able to name scenes that I haven't seen that rationalize some of these reactions that I will be criticizing. If you can, please do so! I'd love to start a dialogue over this!

So, how I'm gonna break this all up is to take a look at Tommy, Wilbur, Ranboo, and Awesamdude and how their CCs characterized them during the stream. I'll sing praises where they are due and point out my criticisms where they arise. Then, I will try to surmise some meta as to why I think these characterizations came to be in the first place.

Tommy

Tommy, to me, has the best characterization in this. CC Tommy clearly has a very good sense of what he wants from his character and has been playing into that line of thought from the beginning of this whole debacle.

Tommy is scared, paranoid, and pissed off. Ever since he left the prison he avoids taking damage like the plague, rambles indecisively, is easily sent into a panic, and is hypersensitive to the people around him. He panics when he sees weapons out and one crucial thing that he made clear from the start was that he wants Dream dead.

Straight out of limbo, Tommy concludes that Dream needs to die. From there he plans this whole mission with Ranboo, Tubbo, and Ghostbur to get in and kill Dream. He says that Dream can't keep living with this power at his fingertips, and from before his final death, Tommy clearly wants to be rid of his abuser, adding a personal layer to his plan. Tommy is stubborn and determined since the beginning, sacrificing his life and disks for L'manberg and refusing to believe that his home is gone until the place is blown to bedrock. Of course, he would stick to his plan to a T.

Now, is this a smart decision to sneak into the highest security area in the entire SMP? Fuck no. It's a stupid idea. Even if Tommy hadn't messed up, Sam would've seen Dream die to a floating axe and kept Tommy and Ghostbur in that containment cell. It would've been a one-way ticket, especially given what we see of Sam in this stream.

But this all makes sense for the character CC Tommy is playing. Tommy isn't thinking about how smart of a decision this is and he hardly ever does when he takes action. He shoots from the hip, takes his first instincts, and acts on them.

It's easy to draw a clear line of progression of Tommy as a character from season 1 to this moment in season 3 and past Ghostbur's death. His hyperventilating as he tries to get his plan to work after it failed, Trying to save Ghostbur from what he went through, lashing out at Sam, and yelling at Wilbur. All of this in line with who Tommy is as a character and how events have changed him. This is a good characterization.

Wilbur

Wilbur has changed a lot since we've seen him last, both alive and dead. Since he's been alive, Wilbur has changed his tune from "I want to die" to "hell sucks, mate." What's particularly interesting is that this sentiment that he has from being alive carried for a long time into his limbo, as evidenced by his appearance in the season 2 finale on the bench. He wanted to "stay dead" at that point. Since we've seen him in limbo, he's gone from content in his situation and understanding why he's there and that he's there forever.

Now we have Revivedbur. Revivedbur is ecstatic to be alive again. He goes from numb to embracing feeling again. The fandom once thought that Revivedbur would be annoyed with or hateful towards Dream for bringing him back turned into joy and reverence. This is quite a drastic leap. Bad characterization.

But it isn't.

I have seen one clip from Ranboo's stream on 4/29 and that is Ranboo telling Philza that Wilbur is alive. In this bit, after mentioning that Wilbur has been in limbo for a perceived 13 and a half years, Phil says "13 years is a long time to be away... he almost certainly isn't the same person... people can change quite a lot in a single year, two years, three years, four years, even five years, Ranboo."

Wilbur has been gone for 13 years. He's been in the same place with no change other than Tommy for 13 fucking years. That's 13 years where we heard from him 2 times. We know virtually nothing about what those 13 years were like for him, but from what Wilbur has said, it was torture to him. He was stagnant, stuck in a fucking tube station for 13 years, unable to leave no matter how hard he tried.

We know so little about how his time in limbo changed him because it's such a long span of time with radio silence. I dare say this is fucking great characterization.

Ranboo

This is where I start having some issues, and this is where I have the least amount of context. From what I've seen, Ranboo is little miss angst who forgets things and is constantly on the verge of having a panic attack (hyperbole). From what I have surmised of his character in various contexts, serious and dramatic scenes and domestic ones, Ranboo really cares about the people around him and is scared of himself and his mind.

So why is it that he straight up just sneers at Tommy, saying "the hell did you do?"

I'm really just focusing on this because it just seems really off to me in the context of his character. Ranboo was in on this plan. It's pretty common knowledge that the only person with revive powers is Dream. Ranboo doesn't know everything that happened within the prison, sure, but why is he so quick to assume that Tommy was the root cause? Is it because he's been hanging out with the world's 2nd biggest Tommy hater, Niki (the character for clarification)? I honestly don't know where this jump-in assumption is coming from. Given what I understand of his character, this line and the implications I'm getting are just a bit out of character. Feel free to explain why I'm wrong because I am not in this loop whatsoever.

Awesamdude

Sam is where I have the biggest issue. How does a man go from living on an isolated island in grief over a death he could've prevented if only he had been quicker, to yelling at that same formerly dead person that he was at fault for the death/revival of another person?

Now, one thing that is strengthened by this characterization is Sam's dedication to the rules. He has his strict protocol and he is not going to let that slip up for anything. He wants to keep Dream in prison and never let him out.

But I'm just having a hard time grappling with a man so quick to blame himself last time something like this happened being so quick to place blame on a child he, from what I've seen, had a good relationship with. It feels like I'm missing something here.

Yeah, Tommy broke into the prison, but why is Sam's first thought that Tommy was trying to break dream out? This harsh turn on Tommy just doesn't come across right to me.

Why Did This Happen?

I do think there could be a meta reason as to why these don't land right to me. These two characterizations are centered around Tommy. How people are reacting to Tommy's actions. Tommy and Dream are the head of the prison stuff right now. at least as far as I know. I'm not sure if Wilbur has come back on as a writer yet but last I heard it's still Tommy and Dream handling their shit. With the writers in mind, I wouldn't put it past them to decide to add more conflict with Tommy and other members of the SMP right now. The Egg is a bit busy with other things, Jack is just running the hotel, and the Syndicate doesn't really have any qualms with Tommy on any level that they would act on. It could be the writers trying to add conflict to the prison storyline by generating conflict between Tommy, Ranboo, and Sam with Wilbur being a fuckin wild card.

I don't know mate, I just wanted my thoughts out there and maybe be fucking pounded into the ground by people more knowledgeable than me.

Have a dialogue with me I'd love to debate. (All friendly debate please I don't feel like taking this too seriously it is Minecraft roleplay after all.)

[ahopelessromantic]

No Grave ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of blood, surgery, a gun wound, quite some angst, Spencer and Reader are next level whipped for each other

Is there truly nothing that can get in-between true love? Spencer and you are forced to find out in the most painful way. 

(A/N: I kind of let myself get away with this one, it’s dramatic af lmao. But I listened to Hozier’s Work Song while writing it, so can you really blame me?)

Derek Morgan normally prided himself in having fairly quick reflexes. He had played college football, his rifle scores had always been consistently good, he was able to take down an unsub in less than a minute. But none of that had helped him when a psychotic suspect had shot down his best friend. He had to watch it happen as if it was in slow motion, his voice failing him and not even allowing him to yell out a warning. Spencer had sunken to the floor with a surprised look, blood already beginning to seep through the fabric of his shirt. He coughed weakly and immediately all of Morgan’s attention was on him. Full of worry, he barely even noticed Hotch arriving on the scene and taking down the suspect. “(Y/N).” Spencer spluttered out; his voice hoarse. Now, all of a sudden, everything was happening way too quickly. Morgan frowned in confusion at his friend’s words. “Is that the Unsub’s accomplice? Come on, Reid, stay with me.”, he growled, applying pressure to the gun wound. But he could feel Reid’s body growing limp. “Call (Y/N).” Was the last thing Spencer weakly whispered before passing out.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Emily hummed calmly, placing her arm around Morgan’s shoulders. He took a deep, shaky breath and shook his head. “Then why am I here and he isn’t? Why wasn’t he wearing his goddamn vest?!” He made a move to get up in agitation, but Prentiss pressed down on his shoulder, effectively stopping him. “You know Spencer would have taken it off to negotiate with or without your blessing. And blaming yourself isn’t going to help anyone right now. We’ll know more soon, okay?” He nodded, burying his face in his hands. It had been three hours of surgery already, and it wasn’t looking good for Reid. “Has Garcia found anyone with the name (Y/N) in the unsub’s life yet?” JJ shook her head, watching Morgan and Prentiss with a worried look on her face. “Nothing. Are you sure he said that name?” Morgan was about to snap at her, mad that she dared to criticize his memory at that moment, but then a nurse headed their way. They must have made up an odd group, just a bunch of tired-looking agents draped over various chairs and even the floor. “You’re with Doctor Reid?” This time there was no way for Prentiss to stop Morgan, he jumped up from his seat and towered over the unsuspecting nurse. “Finally, we see someone from your staff! Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve gotten any updates?” The nurse flinched, then regained her composure and straightened up to meet Morgan’s glare head-on. “If you’ve been here for so long already, you probably know that we’re not allowed to give you any information on the patient.” Morgan visibly deflated. “Can you at least tell us if he’s alive?” The nurse sighed, a conflicted look on her face. “Listen, his emergency contact is on its way. Maybe they can tell you more.” With that she disappeared down the hallway, leaving behind a clueless team. “Reid has an emergency contact?” Rossi asked but only got confused faces as an answer. After that, it was back to waiting. Just when Morgan thought he was going to lose his mind; someone came their way again.

You were sure you looked like an absolute mess. You had woken up from a terrible nightmare, and ten minutes later the hospital had called you. Before the staff member had even begun to speak you had already known that something was wrong. Like a madman, you had bolted through your apartment and carelessly gotten dressed. You were sure you had forgotten about half your purse’s usual contents back in your apartment. With some spare clothes and a hot to-go cup of coffee, you had gotten into your car and driven as fast as never before in your life. At some point, you had either switched on autopilot or gone into shock, or maybe even both. It was only in the hospital’s garage that you tuned back in, wondering how you had even gotten there in one piece. Upon seeing your reflection in the elevator up to the ICU you became painfully aware of the fact that you were wearing Spencer’s sweater. And with that, your emotions overcame you, threatened to pull you under like a deathly avalanche. With tears streaming down your face you made your way to the front desk, stating your name as calmly as possible. Your whole body was shaking and after the first whiff of hospital air you threw up into the nearest trash bin. One of the nurses had been so kind as to lead you to a waiting area and explain that Spencer was still in surgery. The people sitting there matched the descriptions of his team members and you weakly smiled at them. “You’re with Spence, right?” One of them jumped up from his seat and nodded, looking at you expectantly. “He’s- They told me he’s still in surgery.” Was all you were able to bring out before you broke down sobbing. A woman with dark hair pulled you into a much-needed hug, and if had you been less worried about your loved one’s wellbeing you would have felt bad about ruining her shirt with your tears. “I’m sorry if it seems insensitive, but I think we all have to ask.” A serious-looking man spoke up once you had slightly calmed down, now sitting next to the kind woman in one of the hospital’s dingy chairs. “Who… are you?” You were still so deep in thought that you hadn’t even heard the question, absently playing with the ring on your left hand. It was a habit Spencer normally called you out on, taking your hand whenever he spotted you doing it. It was also how the team’s glances landed on your ring, their breaths catching in their throats. “I’m Spencer’s wife.” You said with a heavy voice, swallowing down a sob. The team looked like they were about to bombard you with questions, but then a serious-looking nurse made her way over to you. You felt every single muscle in your body tense up. “Doctor Reid is out of Surgery.” For a moment you felt as if you were floating, ready for more good news, but upon seeing the expression on her face you could swear your heart stopped for a moment. “Would you please come with me?” You nodded and got up, your legs feeling like jelly. The nurse led you to the front of a hospital room. “You can go in and see him now, but I have to warn you. Your husband suffered a gunshot to his heart, and although the surgery has been successful, he’s still in a critical condition. He’ll only be somewhat safe once he makes it through the night.” You nodded, and without stopping to think for a moment you stepped into the room. If your heart hadn’t been broken before by the mere prospect of never looking into Spencer’s beautiful eyes again, it would have surely shattered into pieces now. Seeing his lifeless body on the hospital bed filled you with an indescribable ache like someone was physically trying to claw their way through your chest on the search for your now cold heart. The hot tears on your cheeks were the last reminder of warmth in your body, and you quietly whimpered. You sank into the chair next to his bed and felt yourself completely break, burying your head in the hard mattress. The eerie beeping of the heart monitor and the sound of the oxygen tank posed the soundtrack of your demise and for a while, you completely lost all track of time. You had known that his work was dangerous, and you had always been somewhat prepared for something bad to happen one day. You set up as his emergency contact was proof of that, of a partnership whose very essence it was to constantly fear losing each other. But nothing could have ever prepared you for this, sitting next to his pale form and feeling like you had been shot just as bad as him. It didn’t quite want to fit into your head, that this could be it. This could be the last breaths you would ever witness him take and it made you want to scream in pain. If everything had gone according to you, your life with Spencer had been nowhere near to being over. Hell, it had only just started. You gripped his hand, more to anchor yourself than anything. “Spence, baby. Do you remember the day we got married?”, you whispered in a last fit of broken hope. Maybe talking to him would bring him back to the land of the living, bring him back to you. Your wedding had been such a spontaneous decision, and yet, somehow, it had been the best day of your life. You had been speaking about the concept of marriage over breakfast, how commercialised weddings had become over the years, and then suddenly he had looked at you over the rim of his coffee mug and asked you if you wanted to get married today. There hadn’t even been any nervousness in his voice, he had been so certain that this was the way for you two to go. You had laughed at first, asked him if he was crazy, to which he had just retorted that he was crazy about you. “Nothing is going to change anyway. I’m yours and you’re mine for the rest of our lives, right? Might as well save some taxes while being together.” His words had been so profound that you hadn’t even had the chance to say no. So, that day, you in your prettiest sundress and Spencer in his best suit, the two of you had gotten rings from the jeweller around the corner and then driven to the courthouse where you had signed your lives away to each other. Now, sitting next to him in the glum hospital room, all of that seemed like a far-off memory. A sunlit moment of joy in a now so dull seeming world. “Your life is mine, and my life is yours, remember?” You whispered with an aching soul. “My life is going to end with yours and I’m not ready for that yet, okay?” Your voice broke. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet.” You started sobbing again, and at this point, you were surprised you even still had tears in your body left to cry. All night long you weren’t able to get a minute of sleep, your gaze continuously fixed on the rise of his chest. If he was going to stop breathing, you had to be there. A doctor came by to check on Spencer in the early morning hours, looking somewhat hopeful. “He’s made it through the night, that’s good. Your husband is a fighter, Mrs Reid.” You almost hugged the poor guy, so grateful to finally have received good news again. “He should be waking up slowly, once he’s awake we can transfer him to a regular care room.” You nodded and looked back to Spencer, hooked up on various machines and tubes. The shadows under his eyes were dark, and although you wanted nothing more than to see his face full of life again you wished he would just take his time waking up. Normally you always had to force him to go to sleep. The team had been a huge help in keeping you sane, all of them had been camping out in the waiting area, waiting for any kind of news. Of course, you had wished to meet them under different circumstances, but nothing to bring you together like your husband almost dying, right?

Spencer woke up around noon. At first, you hadn’t even noticed it, but then his hand had twitched next to yours and your brain had immediately switched back into hyper-focus. He scrunched up his face, and then with the faintest morning voice ever he mumbled out a quiet “Ow.”. You started laughing and crying at the same time, pressing kisses all over his hand. “Why does my chest hurt?” He grumbled; his eyes still closed. “You were shot in the heart, honey.”, you reminded him, your voice almost matching his. It was then that he opened his eyes and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. You were never again going to forget how beautiful they looked. He weakly gripped your hand in his, his expression still more confused than anything else. “Is that why everything hurts?” You laughed and nodded, leaning your forehead against your joined hands. “I’ll go get the doctor in a minute. But do you even know how much you scared me?” Spencer lifted your chin and looked at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. “How does that song you like so much go again? No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her? You’re not getting rid of me that easily my love.” You breathed out in relief, leaning into his touch. “I love you so much, Spencer.” For a whole moment you got lost in his eyes, and it was there you knew that you were never going to take another moment with him by your side for granted. You were going to hoard them like a greedy madman and hold onto them until age or death would have to pry them from your hands. But then life picked up its normal speed again, doctors came swarming into the room to check on Spencer and you were filled with nothing but gratefulness to the universe for giving you more time with him, more time to make memories for your collection.

With a smile on your face, you watched the team spill into the room, all of them looking more than happy to see your husband alive. It had been two days since the surgery, and the nurses had only now given Spencer the clear for visitors again. Morgan sat down across from you, punching Spencer in the shoulder as gently as possible. “That’s for almost dying on me, and for not telling us that you’re married! We could have notified her much sooner, man.” Spencer had half a heart to look guilty, distracting himself by playing with your wedding ring. “You guys know how dangerously close Unsubs sometimes get to us. (Y/N) is all I have; I couldn’t risk her ever getting hurt. It’s got nothing to do with you, I promise.” Emily crossed her arms, looking down on Spencer in feigned anger. “Well, that’s good because we really happen to like your wife. She forced us all to sleep while she was waiting for you to make it through the night.” Spencer’s eyes met yours and you basked in the warmth flowing through you. He already had a cheeky grin on his tired face again. “Why does that sound so familiar?” You chuckled and rolled your eyes, gripping his hand even tighter. There was no way in hell you were going to remove yourself from his side during the next few weeks. After a few days he was cleared to return home, and you couldn’t wait to have your home feel like just that again. Home just wasn’t the same without him.

“Sir, you have absolutely no business still looking this good after getting shot in the heart.” Spencer laughed in surprise, shoving his wet hair out of his face. He had taken his first shower by himself today, finally able to fully move his arms again without ripping the stitches open. “Honey, I haven’t worn anything but hoodies and sweatshirts since getting back from the hospital.” You could see the familiar blush on his cheeks he got whenever you complimented him, and it filled your chest with warm honey to see him like that again. “Still. Being alive suits you.” He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, getting into bed and patting the empty spot beside him. “I know it’s early, but come sleep with me?” His painkillers made him constantly tired, but you’d prefer a sleepy cuddly Spencer over a Spencer in pain any day. “Like you even have to ask.” You giggled, turning off the lights and cuddling up next to him. “I know it’s a weird question.” You spoke into the darkness after listening to your husband’s calm breathing for a while. “But when you were on the other side… did you see anything?” You could feel his chest vibrate with a half-hearted chuckle next to you. “Go to sleep, (Y/N).” You shook your head and further curled up into his size. “I’m gonna need to hear you breathing for at least thirty minutes more before I’m able to fall asleep.” He took a deep breath and started drawing circles on your skin through the fabric of the ratty old MIT t-shirt of his that you always slept in. “It was just… lonely. And cold. So cold. For some reason, I knew you weren’t there. So I decided not to stay.” You tried to wipe away the tear that had snuck down your cheek as discreetly as possible. You had expected many answers, but nothing quite like this. “God, I love you.” You whispered with a trembling voice. Spencer turned to fully face you and caressed the side of your face. “I love you too. More than you can even imagine. But you should sleep now. I’ll still be here tomorrow, I promise. I’m never letting go of you again.” You nodded and snuggled into your pillow, a hand on Spencer’s chest. “Are you… checking for my heartbeat?” Eyes already closed, you giggled. “Shhh. I’m not letting go of you again, either.” With that, the two of you fell asleep. Spencer hadn’t lied to you. He was still there the next morning, and every morning after that as well for many more years. No matter how dangerous life became, he was always going to crawl back to you and you to him. No graves could hold your bodies down.