#But it felt like the writers were on *their* side so it just tastes sour to me.

[ophthalmotropy]

Someone tagged my post about characters with tunnel vision with Basira and I can't even get angry at them because it's not wrong :/ It fits, but I don't like her.

[melrodrigo]

Secrets - Cairo Sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: Cairo comes to you after she has her first big heartbreak, but finds something other than comfort.

Warnings: (teeny) underage drinking, Cairo has a lot of mood swings, it eventually ends happy!

A/n: Not sure if I hate this but a cairo fic as promised! enjoy <3

When Cairo told you about her crush on Mr.Miller, you were (rightfully) disgusted. He was at least twice her age, a teacher, and wasn’t even that hot.

You thought maybe it was something silly, a joke if you will, to humor you on a particularly boring school day.

But over the weeks, things changed. It was subtle, but not enough for your keen eye to miss. Something in Cairo’s eyes sparkled, a look you’ve never seen from her before.

She would gush about him after class, and during she would stare at him, blatantly, open with her intentions. It was hard for you to watch.

But the worst thing? He stared back.

Weeks of weird sexual tension and seeing them outside of school, you’d grown more and more sick at the thought that this could be real.

Something people needed to know about Cairo was that she was a dreamer. She might seem realistic on the surface, but secretly, deep deep down, she yearned for that fantasy love she was always writing about.

You could kinda understand the appeal, you guess. An older man, a writer. Still, that didn’t stop it from leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

So when she came bursting through your door two weeks later sobbing, you hadn’t known that you would realize there might’ve been something else holding you back from being so supportive of her actions.

The minute you’d opened the door she came rushing into your arms. You wrapped her up, rubbed her back as she calmed down.

“Please don’t cry.” You told her, in a way that Cairo felt wasn’t ignorant but comforting. Like you cared so much about her if she cried it might tear your heart apart. The way you were looking at her in that moment, she couldn’t help herself from wondering if maybe you did care for her as more than friends.

You were certainly the character. Her attractive, sweet, considerate friend. The complete opposite from Winnie. More reserved and a poet at heart. Really, she’d never kissed a girl, but she definitely wouldn’t have a problem kissing you.

Before she knows it, or before she can stop herself, she’s tilting her face up and grabbing your hair towards her. The moment your lips touch it’s fire.

She catches the sight of your surprised face for a second before you close your eyes and surge forward, with more weight than she would’ve expected. A weight that’s not at all unwelcome.

The more the kiss escalates the more she feels like needs more. It’s primal. The pure lust she’s feeling.

Her hands tangle in your hair, yours in hers. She leans in to press her body against yours, desperately seeking more skin-on-skin contact.

You happily let her do so, mind foggy with lust and her and her and her.

“Cairo.” You groan into her mouth, unbelieving that this is really happening.

She gives you no indication that she hears it, only takes that opportunity to slip her tongue in, breathing heavily.

It feels so good, and her scent fills your nostrils. The smell you love so much, something of a mix of pinewood and cinnamon.

But there’s something else- a sour smell that’s so strong it almost burns.

You realize all at once what it is. Alcohol. How you didn’t notice it before on her breath was a wonder. It’s enough to break you out of your trance.

“Cairo.” You say, more forcefully this time, pulling away and pushing her down onto the side of your bed.

She whips her head around, confusion and hurt so clear on her face you feel yourself crumble a little.

“What?” She asks, eyes glazing over. There’s conviction in her tone. You know she gets like this, defensive, when she gets hurt. Your eyes widen at the realization of what you just did.

“Oh- no,no,no. I didn’t mean it like that.” You blubber, trying to fix things before she misunderstands. She stares at you hard, squinting slightly.

“You’re drunk Cairo, you don’t mean any of this.” You say, hoping she’ll come to her senses and agree with you.

Even though this is a dream come true, you don’t want to ruin your friendship for one night of bliss. Not to mention she’s drunk, a good deal so, and it would just leave you feeling dirty.

“I’m drunk but I’m very much aware of what I’m doing. What, you think just cuz i’m intoxicated I’ll fuck anyone?” She hisses, inching closer to you, menacing despite her small frame.

You gulp. “That’s not what I said.”

It comes out in a weak mumble. Cairo rolls her eyes. Her annoyance fires up something in you, and this time you speak stronger.

“You know that’s not what I meant. You’re drunk, I don’t want to take advantage of you. Even if you want to now, how am I gonna know you won’t regret it later?” You say, watching as Cairo gets so close to you that you’re face to face.

“I’m not going to regret it.” She slurs, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling.

You resist, but she doesn’t care. Her grip tightens until she’s pulling slightly at your hair. You tell her to stop once but it falls on deaf ears.

“Cairo I’m serious. You’re hurting me.” You plead again, and the voice crack that leaves your lips seem to be the thing that brings her back to life. She blinks once, twice, the brown returning back to her doe eyes slowly but surely.

She retracts, pulling her hands back and looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry.” She says, bottom lip quivering. You stay silent, unsure of what to do.

“Y/n I’m really sorry.” She says again, eyes sorrowful.

The mood swings on this girl, you secretly think.

You take her hand in yours, and look into her eyes. You know she’s telling the truth, you know all her tells. The slight quiver of her eyebrow, the way she plays with the nape of her neck. She means her apology.

You sigh tiredly.

“It’s okay, really. Let’s just talk about this later when you’re sober, alright?” You suggest gently, watching her nod her head carefully.

“How about you sleep on my bed today hm? I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t want you going home in this state.” You prod, and when she agrees, you move her, softly like you’re handling something that might break at any moment. You settle her onto your bed and under the covers.

“Y/n?” She calls out when you’re fluffing your extra pillows to prepare for your bed on the floor, voice already sounding sleepy. You hum in response.

“Will you sleep next to me? I promise I won’t pull anything again.” And the way she says it, you know you could never be able to deny.

You wordlessly slip in beside her, suddenly rigid with nerves. The feelings you were feeling when she first came in were returning. Could it be that you liked Cairo?

The quiet atmosphere doesn’t help with your swimming thoughts. You don’t think you’ll be able to sleep much next to her, you feel a little tingly all around.

A couple minutes pass by and when you’re sure you’ve heard Cairo start snoring, you try and step out the covers, desperate for some relief of your wildly beating heart.

An arm drapes around your body before you can begin to move, and you peer over to see Cairo with half lidded eyes, sleepily telling you not to go.

You had no choice now- how were you to leave? It was like waking up an adorable animal that fell asleep on you.

You scoot your body closer to her so she doesn’t have to reach for you so much, and try to relax.

Not five minutes go by before Cairo pokes your cheek and speaks again, amusement in her tone.

“Your heart is beating very fast.”

[beauspot]

The Bear Season 2: And Why I’m Fucking Annoyed (Full Spoilers below)

*Long Post*

The Bear is something truly special. When it dropped in June of last year it wasn’t a major hit right away. It was a sleeper and it grew its fanbase over time. If you were here this time last year you remember how small the fandom was posts on every platform could barely reach 200 interactions, but with the Golden Globe wins and the word of mouth this fandom began to grow and expand, because season one of the show was just so good.

Season 2 however is an interesting piece of media. I am well aware that I have some bias in this department and I can’t view this season objectively, but neither can the rest of you so I’ll say what I want.

To start off I really enjoyed some of the episodes this season, the first two? Excellent. The Marcus Episode(with my husband Will Poulter at his side)? Fantastic. The Richie Episode? Perfection. And let’s not even talk about Fishes, which was beyond words. I genuinely went into this season wanting to like it and praise it the way I did the previous season because I thought it was good. The writing—which is spectacular in nearly every other place—takes a nosedive with this romance plot. I still do think it’s good, but I can’t act like this whole season hasn’t left a sour taste in my mouth, because it has. Because the show runners are lying racist misogynistic nasty assholes who bullshitted us for nothing.

Toward the end of last year/beginning of this year Chef’s Kiss fans words made their way to some journalist who then asked about the potential for it with the actors and the writer( in an article stupidly named “don’t worry the bear doesn’t want carmy and sydney to kiss, either” the writer of which goes on to ship carmy and marcus so clearly they have excellent taste 😒) who all shut it down. Fine. That’s fine. That’s their opinion and it doesn’t affect us. What bothers me is the words of the co-creator Chris Storer who said this 👇🏾

He went on to say the show was also just meant to be focused on these people doing their jobs. So fine. We said even if it won’t be canon there’s no way they would bring in a new love interest cause that’s not “the vision” they have for the show, right?(He also goes on in the pic above to act like we couldn’t separate our love of the plot of the show from the ship which is…infantilizing and annoying) continuing on though, he also said this

He thought it would be cool to see a show with no romantic plot. Mind you this statement was made in January and the show starting filming in February. So unless they want me to believe they added this romance plot as some last minute thing (which very well could be the case as Claire has quite literally no personality outside of being pushy and being Carmy’s girlfriend) they knew they were having a romance plot in the second season and chose to lie about it. So the actors, the creator, basically everyone who was apart of this project said that Syd and Carmy were a weird ship (a strange thing to say to your, at the time, small audience even if that’s how you felt) just for them to turn around and have Carmy with a new love interest from school and have Sydney and marcus develop feelings for one another in the second to last episode? can y’all be fucking forreal for one minute?

Suddenly all you “yesss let men and women be friends, not every show needs romance” ass bitches want to ship something. I can tell you know Syd and Carmy have chemistry otherwise you wouldn’t have been shaking in your boots hoping the writers wouldn’t get them together. There was some dumb post i saw rooting for Claire and Carm but then adding ‘no one was better than platonic Sydcarmy’…

I see you.

I spoke about this before, but this constant sidelining of black women in these types of shows irks me. Sydney is basically hunting Carmy down for 85% of the season because he can’t do his fucking job he’s so consumed with Claire. And I know people are gonna say i’m being overdramatic, but it’s so clear they just did not want their main white boy to be with a black girl. Something that happens over and over and over again so many fucking times you can just lose count. Carmy, who in season one was so in tune with Sydney’s emotions he quelled his own anger and anxiety to ask if she was ok now ditches her at their restaurant to go help some girl he hasn’t seen since high school. He ditches her to go to a party then has the nerve to bring up Claire’s helping to inspire him.

Like yeah no shit Sydney is sorry that she’s there, y’all are opening a restaurant together which could fuck both your lives if it fails and Carmy is off doing god knows what instead of his job!

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!? And yeah, Carmy fucks it up at the end with Claire but that doesn’t negate the rest of the season. Chef’s Kiss shippers are strange and delusional and the show doesn’t need romance and then Claire is half naked in Carmy’s apartment? Look Carmy deserves happiness, his life has been basically nonstop stress and trauma since he was a kid and him ending the season thinking he doesn’t deserve fun or love is heartbreaking because it isn’t true, he deserves all the love in the world especially since he is actively trying to break the cycle (along with his sister). That doesn’t negate the fact that he agreed to being partners with Syd and then left her to make decisions on her own about a business they agreed to start together. Which is why he apologized and rightfully so.

And I know for a fact annoying Sydney and Marcus shippers are going to be like “well ackshully they are clearly setting up Sydcus this season so how can they hate black women.” I love Marcus as much as the next person and honestly after I saw where the writing was going I was like fuck it why not at this point, but if Sydney and Carmy’s shippers were living off crumbs Sydney and Marcus shippers were living off the memory of food. But sure that ship had development.

also no i don’t fuck with that syd and marcus ship because why the fuck are you snapping at sydney cause she rejected you and it wasn’t even really a rejection that was very incel core and it’s not about being upset half the kitchen is always screaming about something, it’s why he snapped at her.

I’m just angry so yeah fuck this show.

I’m genuinely contemplating if I want to watch the next season at all. I said if they wanted to go no romance, fine go no romance, but to not only lie about that but bring in some whole new girl we don’t know and throw the black girl to the closest guy despite the fact Sydney and Carmy are more alike than anyone else? You clearly need to do some introspection and think about why you can view Sydney and Carmen as friends but get sick at the thought of them being more.

There is a possibility (a slight possibility) that they are playing the long game we wanted, but i am wary because they lied and put a manic pixie indie girl in as a love interest this time and it sucked. But then I remember the scene with Syd and Carmy under the table and how open and honest they were with each other and even though their relationship wasn’t the best this season I can see it’s potential, because that one scene had more chemistry than all of that other ships other scenes combined. I don’t know.

This got me thinking though Will Poulter romcom when? I will be seated. Also the consensus on twitter is that people really didn’t like Claire and thought the show should have ditched their plot all together so that’s nice. A lot of people seem to think this is a setup for sydcarmy and idk, maybe i’ll rewatch when i’m more calm.

[troutfur]

Tonight is Writer's Choice night because I said so and because I binged the whole of the new book over the course of my day off and it gave me ideas.

Tomorrow we're back to taking prompts from the audience, in accordance with my guidelines, but as a clarification since I've got more than a handful: Mapleshade's Vengeance is in fact one of the books I haven't read. And I'm not sure it's a book I even want to read. After the whole "yeah it's totally a good idea to write an article telling kids that if they don't jump into a flooding river to save someone else they're going to Hell, just get social media to shut up" fiasco from last year it just has left a sour taste in my mouth.

Preamble out of the way, enjoy Sunbeam's ThunderClan polycule, feat. pfurr dynamic worldbuilding:

On the night Nightheart went missing, Sunbeam went into her new nest feeling dejected. The whole of ThunderClan had been buzzing with a celebratory atmosphere but hearing her mate had left had her double-guessing herself at her decisions so far. The cryptic reassurances from StarClan Squirrelstar conveyed to to her had for sure not had remotely close to the intended effect. With no clear reason why he was gone she was left wondering if Nightheart’s wenwi --his maternal grandmother-- was even telling the truth or just trying to save face for her awbyyo --her bloodline.

As she settled in to sleep, Sunbeam felt a paw prodding at her side. “Hey.” Sunbeam raised her face to see the tortoiseshell face of Nightheart’s sister.“I know you haven’t officially joined the pfurr, but... would you like to sleep with us? At least until my brother’s back.”

“I...” Sunbeam was a bit taken aback. She turned her face towards two other cats cuddled with each other, their faces expectantly towards her. Those must be her empf --her nestmates-- Sunbeam guessed. “I thought Nightheart slept alone. He did mention you but with how he spoke I thought he was a--”

“Oh no, no!” the molly was quick to interject. “StarClan no, he’s not nearly bad enough to be a hug’koo.” In their language that was a word meant ‘cuckoo’, but it could also mean a cat that had been expelled from a nest. “He just has fallen into the habit of sleeping on his own. Being made a warrior late and all.”

“But he left his Clan to court me,” Sunbeam protested. Having let that slip out she wanted to swallow back her tongue. Berryheart would certainly have thought that an offense grave enough and she hoped upon reconsidering Finchlight wouldn’t agree with that view.

“And he’s not going to lose his place in his birth pfurr from that,” Finchlight said with a shrug. “You just try again the other way ‘round. The elders may say it’s disrespectful but I’ve always thought it was jus the smart thing to do.”

“It’s not like I have a sibling to share a nest with who I care about offending,” Sunbeam mused, rising to her paws as she followed Finchlight back to her nest.

“Really?” she asked. “An ul-arramew? You don’t very much act like one.”

“No, it’s not like that,” Sunbeam said. “I have two brothers in fact. But one of them took a SkyClan mate and the other was not very pleased. And so...”

“Oh,” Finchlight said. “I’m sorry I pried.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sunbeam said. “What’s the courtship period for if not for meeting your soon-to-be mate?” The word she used there was empf for in their language there’s no distinction between one’s romantic partner and any other cat one share a nest with.

“Settle in,” Finchlight offered as she carved her space between alongside the other two cats, a golden tabby tom and a pale brown molly, who were already settled on their nest. “It should be enough for all four. We had it expanded for Nightheart forever ago but since he insists on being by his lonesome.”

“Hey,” Sunbeam greeted with a flick of her tail which the other cats responded to in kind. Though everyone in the nest was cozy and fit rather neatly the atmosphere didnt’ seem yet conducive for actually going to sleep. “So... Nightheart never mentioned any other empf other than her sister. When did you all start courting?”

Myrtlebloom and Bayshine went wide-eyed in surprise for a moment before clarity dawned on them and they gave an amused purr.

“We didn’t court,” Bayshine --the tom-- clarified. “We’ve just... kinda always shared a nest.”

“Pryyp?” Sunbeam piped up.

“Our wipfurrs” --that means mothers-- “were always close. And Sparkpelt had not been in the right mindset to nurse or take care of Finchy or Nighty towards their first moon or so. So they nursed with us and the habit of sharing a nest just kinda stuck.”

“Did he never tell you?” Finchlight asked.

“No, he didn’t,” Sunbeam said in surprise. “That’s lovely of her and lovely of you. When he spoke of ThunderClan he always stressed other things.”

“Typical,” Bayshine said with an eyeroll. “Such a complainer that Nightheart. There was once towards the beginning of our apprenticeship when he...”

The nest continued gossiping about their missing member until sleep overtook them. As she drifted off into sleep, with her head rested on the soft fur of her soon-to-be empf she began to give off a purr. There may be a piece of their nest missing but now she could work on loving and being loved by the rest of them.

[mlmxreader]

The Flirting Game | Eames x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: Eames: Hi!! Hope you're doing good 🖤! May I please request something using the following prompts for Eames X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader: "Just fucking leave it, alright?!" Thank you 🖤!! 🐍anon

summary: tensions are rising, and it's not fun for you or Eames.

tws: swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Eames hummed as he shuffled his playing cards at the table, only daring to look at you from the corner of his eye; you had been sour all day, and he couldn't pinpoint why. Your bad mood, he assumed, was just one of those days. It had to be. He couldn’t think of any reason why you would be in such an awful mood, after all.

But then, maybe it was something he had done; he thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. No, he hadn’t even spoken to you that day except a few texts here and there to check in with one another like usual. But Eames couldn’t wrap his head around it, and frowned as he looked over at you as you made yourself a cup of coffee; something was definitely wrong, as a heavy metal song he knew you loved was playing on the Bluetooth speaker connected to his phone, but you didn’t even mouth the lyrics like you usually did when you made coffee.

He furrowed his brows, you were definitely up shit’s creek and he was sure that he was holding the paddle; he used his phone to turn up the volume a little bit, but you didn’t notice. Something was absolutely wrong. He rose from his chair, letting his playing cards fall to the table before he made his way over to you, grabbing your sides like he usually did but doing his best not to hum in disappointment when you didn’t play along like usual. 

“What is it?”

“Don’t fucking worry,” you huffed, brushing him off. 

That wasn’t normal, either.

You never brushed Eames off, the same as he never brushed you off; you were the best of friends, always had been. You never brushed one another off - sure, you kept secrets and you had boundaries, but you never, never brushed each other off or pushed each other away. He was confused, and admittedly, a little hurt.

“Darling-”

“Just fucking leave it, alright?!” You snapped, pushing him away from you before storming off to the bedroom. 

Eames frowned, wincing a little when the door slammed shut. He sighed, shaking his head as he didn’t know what the fuck he was meant to do. He didn’t know how to comfort you, he didn’t even know what was eating away at you so terribly. If he knew, maybe he could have comforted you; he knew though, that his own problems would have to wait.

Sure, Eames had been pining after you for years upon years and had wished that he had had the time to tell you how he had felt for so long - but either his work, personal shit, or your work always got in the way. Like the universe was against him and didn’t want you together as anything but friends. He sighed, resigning himself to the table and drinking your coffee. He hated it, it wasn’t made the way that he liked but he drank it anyway because he loved you enough to look past a different taste in coffee.

He sighed, going back to his cards and shuffling them as he waited and waited; it felt like years before he heard the door open again, and quiet, hesitant footsteps approached. Eames looked up when you reached the chair beside him, and he dared to smile as he cleared his throat. 

“Good evening, darling.”

“I’m really sorry, dearest,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I just… a lot of shit right now.”

Eames nodded in understanding. “For all of us. It’s alright.”

You sighed, shaking your head again. “It’s not.”

“Darling,” he scoffed, shaking his head fondly as he started to lay his cards out for a game of solitaire. “I love you enough to forgive you for drinking shit coffee. I’ll forgive you for a little lashing out.”

“You’re not pissed?”

“No!” Eames almost laughed. “If you had broken my mum’s shire horse ornament, then yeah - but you didn’t. So I don’t care. A door can be replaced - you can’t.”

“Thanks…” you muttered, leaning your arms on the table. You rested your chin just below your hand as you sighed. “Can I let you in?”

He nodded, placing one card on another. “Always.”

“It’s Cobb,” you explained, “he keeps flirting with me and sending me all these really flattering and… weird, if I’m honest, messages. Like he wants to, I dunno, go on a date or something but I… shit, Eames, I can’t imagine doing something like that with anyone but…”

“But?”

“Anyone but you,” you muttered, shaking your head. “I know, I know I’m an idiot and I should probably jump at the chance to spend time with anyone else but… but you get me. You let me in, and I let you in. We’re…”

“We’re good together, darling,” Eames replied, doing very little to not sound smug. “Aren’t we?”

You nodded in agreement, daring to smile. “We are, yeah… quite honestly, I’d be fucking livid to spend my days with anyone but you.”

He grinned, nodding. “So it’s mutual… can I let you in?”

You nodded. “Always.”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you for ages,” he started, “but my work, your work, personal shit with both of us always gets in the way… but, my dearest darling, I’ve wanted to be something different to friends for so long. I told you - I said, you mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger. What if my dream’s being able to spend my years with you?”

“Then I’d tell you we need to do everything we can to make it real,” you said softly. “But, y’know, Eames, I have to admit something.”

“Go on.”

“You’re so much better at flirting than Cobb is,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Really. So, so much fucking better.”

Eames grinned as he licked his lips. “Someone like you? I always have to be on top form - can’t have someone else snatching you up, can I?”

You grinned back as you shrugged. “I guess not.”

[snorlaxlovesme]

For the ask meme:

41) Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

66) What’s a fun fact about let me do this for you?

68) Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

74) Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

(You don't have to answer them all if you don't have the wherewithal I just love asking questions to writers!!)

smooch smooch smoochsmoochsmooch LC you know I love you and you know I love talking about writing

41. Who's your favorite character you've written?

like, OBVIOUSLY Soul or Maka otherwise I wouldn't have dedicated the past like ten years of my life writing for Soul Eater. but a secret third option? Hagakure from My Hero Academia. probably because Horikoshi gave me absolutely NOTHING to work with besides "girl who is constantly invisible and wants to be hero" so I got to come up with everything else for her on my own. and since I can't think of a single 15 year old girl on the planet that would be comfortable with fighting naked while everyone else was clothed, invisible or not, I gave her a complex about it. and it's a pretty rad fic if I do say so myself. [x] i

66. What's a fun fact about let me do this for you? [x]

the long-lost soup recipe was inspired by a couple different things! there's an episode of Spy x Family where Yor is trying to learn to cook for her fake family and a co-worker tries to teach her how to make a stew, I think. at the end of the cooking process her co-worker asks Yor where she's from and deduces that the region where she lives probably adds sour cream into the stew, and when Yor and her brother taste it it brings back memories of their childhood. i had a similar experience 2 years ago when i went to Chicago. we went to a fancy restaurant and by total coincidence the mashed potatoes I got as a side dish tasted EXACTLY like how my grandmother used to make them. when i was a kid we'd always have Christmas and Easter at my grandma's house and her mashed potatoes were different from how my parents made them and they were SO yummy. she passed away in 2015 so being able to eat what felt exactly like her cooking in 2022 felt really special. those kind of things reminded me just how special home-cooking is, and how taste can trigger memories. i thought it would be comforting for Cheng Xiaoshi to have a memory food like that, that he really wished to taste again, and to have Qiao Ling love her brother enough to attempt to make it over and over again so he can experience that kind of warmth again. and honest to god, hand on the Bible, i had not watched s1 in a while and had COMPLETELY forgotten about the noodle lesbians and didn't know that i was subliminally channeling a plot Link Click had already used LMAO

68. Are there any fics that inspired you to write the way you do?

that's hard to pin down since I don't have even really have a definitive writing style, really. if you look at the work I used to put out in the 2010s, it's mostly snappy sitcom-style romantic comedy things (which I would say was largely influenced by the Soul Eater fandom as a whole and Bittersweet Romanticide's [x] many many excellent Pokemon one-shots and longfics. those were my core texts when I started writing fanfiction so my earlier style comes from them I'm sure. nowadays? i think maybe since being in the TRC fandom I've switched up my style to be a bit more prose-heavy. that's more Maggie Stiefvater's influence than anything, since I've taken like four of her writing courses. i've been able to flesh out ideas better and have been more intentional with my pacing since learning from Stief

74. Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

no matter how many times i reblogged it, you'd come over, right? [x] was chronically ignored and that remains one of life's greatest tragedies it's a TRC pynch one-shot that takes place in the middle of the end of the world. apocalypse NOW, RIGHT NOW, truly. but ironically despite the fire and brimstone raining down, it's more of a backdrop to the emotional turmoil Ronan is going through, as he experiences the end of days alone. (angst with a happy ending, though, soooooooo. it deserves to be read. it is very good. )

[long-suffering-little-spoon]

I JUST REALIZED THAT YOU WATCHED THE OFMD FINALE

H-

How are you feeling 🥲🥲🥲

Pahaha not swimmingly, I'll just say. First I have been doing a bit of the ol' menstruating which means everything is immediately more extreme lol. I've been very conflicted and I'm still not 100% sure how I feel about *THE THING* especially, but this is where I stand right here right now at like 11PM lmao

Under the cut cos this ended up being exponentially longer than I thought it could ever be sorry

Overall I've loved season 2!! It has been so much fun to interact with the community and convert everyone to the Izzy hands cult engage with the fandom week by week. We've had some incredibly beautiful high moments and some lovely refreshing queer joy. I adore the new characters and the developments of our existing ones. I know my negative thoughts here are much more substantial than my positives but this doesn't mean I didn't like it!! I just don't feel the need to describe the positives because I feel like they're pretty obvious and universally recognised, agreed upon and beloved, y'know? (if you want a purely positive thoughts autistic happy flappy hands rant™, i can oblige dw)

Izzy's death is not the only reason I have mixed feelings on the finale. Obviously the episode cuts were a result of HBO'S meddling and isn't the fault of the crew, but the pacing still felt off and everything that happened just kinda washed over me like white noise (haha will wo-). The loose ends were tied up in wholesome ways and if we don't get a season 3 this would be a mostly decent way to end our characters' journeys, if a bit rushed. But then...

Izzy's death. A lot of people feel very very betrayed and hurt by Izzy being killed off, some people don't feel the comfort they used to from this show because of it and no longer want to engage. I don't wanna discount these people's views, more power to them; I cannot stop them from feeling what they feel and doing what they choose. I haven't given up hope on this show but Izzy's death just felt pretty unsatisfying to me?? Putting my bias towards him aside, I get the "killing off mentor at end of second act" trope but I just feel and wish way more could've been done with Izzy. I wanted to see more of him being happy and secure in himself and his found family and his queerness and his disability!! But now I don't get that and it very much stings. I think I could've come to terms more with his death if there had been more time to dwell on it all and get to see the individual characters mourn, but again episode cuts, thanks HBO!! /s. And I know they had the funeral but it still feels like we didn't really get a chance to mourn or treat Izzy's death with the weight it warranted. And I am far too tired especially right now to engage in "is this/is this not bury your gays/disabled character" but I will say I've seen pretty compelling arguments on both sides. As an able-bodied disabled person I don't feel it's fully my place to dictate, but I am upset Izzy was killed right after some big moments in his healing process and being a disabled person and in general just enjoying his life.

Personally I'm not giving up on the show as a whole because the finale left a sour taste in my mouth. I still very much like this show and I'm willing to stick around for a potential season 3 and on future rewatches I'll be able to see the stuff I loved separate from the stuff I didn't. But since looking back now, the latter is most recent, it kind of casts an unpleasant shadow on a very enjoyable season of television.

RIP Izzy Hands you deserved better sweetie, you would've loved Drag Race. And also shoutout to Con O'Neill for a fucking phenomenal performance last season, but especially this one. Izzy was absolutely iconic and a fan favourite for a very good reason, even if imo the writers did him dirty. He was hilarious and a petty little bitch man but then deeply broken and compelling and a genuinely beautiful character with a beautiful journey despite an unfortunate and unjust end?? He slayed.

Wow this was a lot!! Sorry if you were expecting silly goofiness lmfao I got very analysi-ish and a bit melancholic. Thank you so much for the ask JJ, it was a good opportunity to try and express all my thoughts and squish them into something cohesive for both you and me. (And thanks to my friend who I was discussing this with earlier; they helped me get a new perspective by sharing some of his thoughts. Dude, if you're reading this you know who you are, thanks a bunch!!!!)

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

Val!! Hi!! Can I request for your Halloween event Thatch x fem! reader for candy apple? Thank you, dear!! You are an amazing writer, please keep blessing us with your talent!! Love u!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Hi anon babe! Of course, you can I will happily write for Papa Thatchie. Love him so much!!! Awww thank you so much!!!!! I hope you enjoy!!!

TW: none

WC:531

“Hey what are you doing?” you saw thatch on the stove. On the other side of the counter, you could see a bunch of apples and sticks and a bowl of nuts. 

“Well, I felt bad you couldn’t try the candy apples at the pier last night since they were sold out so I’ve decided to make some for you.” When you got closer to Thatch the smell of warm caramel was. “You didn’t have to do all this.” sticking your bottom lip out. We kinda got a late start last night and the candy apple line was very long not even halfway up there, they sold out of candy apples. Thatch saw the bummed look on your face as you both continued roaming around the pier. “You wouldn’t mind if I helped out.” picking up the sticks and you began to stick them into the apples. 

“Well, aren't you sweet?” Thatch his lip curling up, turning the stove off as he continued to stir the hot mixture. You began to hand him the stuck apples, then Thatch would dip the apples in the gooey sauce.  He placed them on the rack to have them cool down before the moment “You can start to add my nuts on the apples.” Giving a cheeky smile while looking at you and then giving you the bowl of chopped nuts.

Letting out a small snort “you are something you know that.” playfully saying to the tall man. You began to sprinkle the nuts on the dipped apples. “But that’s what I like about you so much.” “Well, I thought you were just after me for my good looks.” cocking his brow at you. “Maybe I should rephrase my words.” placing the bowl of nuts down on the counter, Thatch began to wipe his hands with the hand towel “Everything about you and  I mean everything about you is what I fell in love with.” “Aww, babe.” Thatch brought you into his arms, feeling the bear tight hug as he lifted you off the floor slightly swinging your back and forth. “Right back at cha babe.” Cupping his cheeks with your hands, you pecked the cook's lips. “Can we try one of the apples now???”  giving him a sweet smile.

“Let's give them a try.” Thatch placed you down and he picked one of the caramel apples and handed it to you. It was making your mouth water. Taking a bite of the apple you got the taste of the sweet/ sour of the green apple with a mixture of caramel and nuts. It was a taste that reminded you of your childhood. You took a big bite of the apple, and he saw your cheek become big like a hamster's. 

“Big enough bite for ya?” he laughed as he saw you chewy on the piece even with your cheeks full of the apple you had a smile on your face. You brought the caramel apple to his lips where he gladly took a bite. “My nuts really brought out the flavor.”

Luckily you swallowed the piece you had in your mouth before he said that you would have choked to death with his nuts comments.

[dans-den]

My Top 5 Worst Shows of 2022

What's going on everyone? It's Dan here and were nearing the end of 2022 so much like every other degenerate online, I'll be giving my Top 5 lists. Starting off the list, I'll be giving My Top 5 worst shows of 2022 list!

Keep in mind, this is all subjective and just my opinion on what I've seen this year. There will be shows on this list you agree or disagree with and that's okay! are we clear on that? good. Let's begin.

Number 5 is going to the limited Netflix series, DAHMER. (6/10)

Now right off the bat, I'm sure I'll catch major flack for putting a show like DAHMER on this list because it was actually quite popular for a fat minute. My real gripe with this show is because it's a piece of entertainment based around a real killer. I don't have problems with adaptations based on true events or people, but when it comes to basing them off tragedies or killers, I get real mixed on the subject. I feel as long as its done tastefully then it's fine, but with Dahmer it feels like the series glorifies him to an unhealthy degree and makes Jeffery Dahmer (at least in the show) likeable. It's similar to when Zac Efron portrayed Ted Bundy a couple years back and people found Bundy to be a charismatic and likeable guy despite that he was a real monster much like Dahmer. Now you can argue this is thanks for Evan Peters portrayal which I'll admit is pretty well done, but even so, it feels like the show and its story is making light of the events that took place especially when they exaggerate or alter details for the sake of the story. The show itself is alright, like I said Peters did a great job but the show itself is....meh. The show overall I'd give it a 6/10, but the events and person it was based off of leaves a bit of a sour taste in my mouth and feels that it altered more than it should have for the sake of entertainment.

Number 4 is going to another limited series that's on Disney Plus, Kenobi (5.5/10)

This show I had high hopes for and something everyone has been waiting for, An Obi-Wan Kenobi movie or series on his exile on Tattooine watching over a young Luke, but it turned out to be a real disappointment. Now I already reviewed the show back in the summer and gave it a 5.5/10 so if you want a full in-depth on why I dislike it go check that out. To summarize what I initially said, The show is basically pointless filler in my eyes. It doesn't really add anything to the story of Star Wars and we got glorified fighting scenes between Kenobi and Darth Vader which I felt wasn't necessary, they didn't need to meet. Another reason was the characters were all weak, the main bad guy or gal in this case was just poorly written and felt like her actress was just being over the top. Plus the Inquisitor was thought to be killed off so easily and this caused outrage in the fandom since he's a big player in Star Wars: Rebels. The shows saving grace was when they brought in the writer from WALL.E (I'm serious) for the last two episodes and it managed to salvage the series and actually make it entertaining, make the characters sympathetic and bringing the Inquisitor back to life. The show was just a huge mess, even worse than Book of Boba Fett. It is a real shame because I wanted to like the show, it had it's moments where there was something that could have been great if it was handled better. Unfortunately this is what we ended up with and it was a real disappointment.

Number 3 has to go to the Disney Plus original series, She-Hulk (5/10)

Now this is a show I knew was gonna be met with heavy dislike and major debate. I had no faith in this show and when I watched a few episodes...it further reinforced those feelings. To be fair, the She-hulk show concept could work well but the way it was executed here was just awful. It's no secret that the MCU has treated the Hulk like a complete side character throughout most the MCU's run in cinema and I find that to be a serious injustice since the Hulk is my favorite Marvel character (yes even more than Spider-Man though he is a close second). I honestly hate how they've treated him in every phase after the original Avengers movie and I thought with the She-Hulk series they'd at least give him some kind of reparation for it as this wise mentor since he's professor Hulk now. But NOPE! Jennifer just complains, telling him how she's gone through far worse than him and talks down on him writing off his struggles as nothing. That's what initially made her so unlikeable in the first place, she has this sense of entitlement and just because she's a woman it means her problems are always worse than Bruce's issues. Keep in mind Bruce has struggled with a dual personality he was unable to control for the longest time and even attempted suicide at one point where as Jennifer has mentally more control than he did so it just makes her character unlikeable. In the comics and other shows she's portrayed to be a real charmer and someone who is easy going but in this show, she's entitled, mean-spirited and shameless (in a bad way). I know this is meant to appeal to a more adult demographic since there's sex (Disney's closest thing to that), Twerking, and profanity. All of those could work for a She-Hulk show, but the writing and lackluster CGI/VFX (she literally looks like that one scene in Click where Adam Sandler's character makes himself look like the hulk) is what truly holds it back. It has it's moments with neat Easter eggs and Cameo's like Abomination from the 2008 Incredible Hulk movie, but it's not enough to save the show and all that I've said makes it a chore to watch than entertainment.

Number 2 goes to the infamous Halo TV show on Paramount Plus. (4.5/10)

My god I don't even know where to begin with this one....For starters one of the producers Steven Kane would go on saying that they didn't play or look at the games the show was based off of. Secondly, They ruined Master Chiefs character by having him remove his helmet in the first episode which is something he would have never done in the games, third it's just space drama when there's no covenant fighting, I could go on and on. I already review this show so if you wanna see that go ahead but yeah this show was just doomed to fail. I don't understand why they bother making adaptations of beloved video game franchises and give it to people who seem to hate video games and make it so generic and almost nowhere near what its based off of. Yeah they said that this is non-canon, but that's still no excuse to make a Halo Show and make it this terribly. Companies always do this where they make a generic show and slap a beloved IP just so people will watch it. They did this as well with the resident evil show on Netflix (which I've seen clips of and will not watch it ever). It's a generic zombie show and they slap the Resident Evil name on it just so it could generate some views. We've seen with things like Arcane, The Witcher, Cyberpunk, Cuphead, and Sonic that prove you can adapt video games into a great show or movie as long as you have the right team behind it and stay loyal to the source material while also making it your own. It's been proven yet there are still shows like Halo that refuse to give any effort into it or hand it off to the right team. The Halo show was hard to watch, the only episodes I genuinely liked were the first and last episodes because they were action packed battles between the Spartans and the Covenant, everything in between was just space drama. Unfortunately, the shows budget was limited so they couldn't give us a lot of the covenant, that's why their appearances were limited. Also I hate Kwan Ha (not her actress) she is the worst character in this god forsaken show and is baby sat by Soren who I felt was the best character in the show. I initially gave this show a 4.5/10 but I honestly regret that score now I felt it should have been far lower.

And now for the number 1 spot! The Worst Show of 2022 goes to....

Number 1 goes to Fairly OddParents: Fairly Odder on Paramount Plus (1/10)

I've mentioned what has held back a lot of the shows on this list, whether it be bad writing, bad acting, low budget, horrible VFX and CGI, decent concept but poor execution, poor adaptation of a beloved property and even controversy because of real people. I've mentioned how all these shows have one, maybe two of these qualities...well this show has ALL OF THAT!

I know I gave my review of this show back in April, but I don't think I fully expressed all my reasons so I'll try to get it all out in this. First off, the concept of this show is just awful. This live action and animation hybrid idea can work if done with proper care but this show half hazardly puts it together with the smallest budget known to man like literal peanuts flicked at the production. The OG Fairly OddParents was done completely in animation which is far better because you're not limited thanks to animation being a far more flexible medium. The animation is so cheaply done and clunky like I've seen better flash animations from 2005 than what I'm seeing here in 2022 how is that even possible!? The characters are all weak like I do not like any of the main cast aside from Cosmo, Wanda, Jorgen, and Mr. Crocker only because they got the OG voice actors back for their roles and even Mr. Crocker's Voice actor actually got to play him both in live action and animated which I think was awesome but that's about the only positive thing I can say. The settings are so repetitive and uncreative, they literally use the same settings and just redecorate them slightly to be somewhat different. The writing is just poorly done and the acting is all phoned in like good god no one was having a good time. The VFX and CGI are done poorly due to the low budget like this is stuff I can make with a green screen, photo shop and my art tablet. But the worst part about this show is the man behind it, Butch Hartman. He was the creator of Fairly OddParents and was one of the best animators in the industry back in the 2000's and even early 2010's. He was truly one of the best but along the way he got greedy and arrogant. He had that Oaxis Kickstarter, he's been accused of plagiarizing art and commissioning it, and he's just become a real unhinged Jerk if I'm gonna be honest. He agreed to bring back the fairies and he did a shit job at it. It's clear he had no real passion or drive to make this show successful...it's just a shameless cash grab and a phoned in check for himself. It's a real fall from grace story here. Normally a series like the Powerpuff Girls or MLP are ruined because the networks take it upon themselves to squeeze every dime out of the existing property when the original creator departs from the show. Here, Butch comes back but just doesn't care about his IP enough to make it good, he only cares about money and this show has nothing to offer. This show is just a hollow shell of its former self and that's why I feel Fairly OddParents: Fairly Odder is the worst show to come out in 2022 and possibly of all time.

There you have it folks! the worst shows of 2022 according to me! how many of you have I upset? How many of you agree with me? let me know! I'll be posting the Top 5 Best shows along with the Top 5 Best/Worst movies of 2022 and I'll post those throughout the week.

See ya!

[mushroom-jack]

Writer tag game

I wasn't tagged by anyone I just saw @bisexualnerd doing it and it looked fun + I love to talk about myself

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

77 publicly on my page, 23 posted anonymously, and then 7 orphaned... so 107 total! That's more than I thought tbh.

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

714,735 according to my statistics page

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Currently I'm writing the most for Mother of Learning and A Study of Resonance, but I've historically written a lot for MCYT and various Danny Phantom crossovers. DP x RotG will always hold a special place in my heart.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

This won't be accurate bc 4/5 my real top 5 fics by kudos were posted anonymously, but skipping over those...

when trouble comes (I'll be by your side)

blood on your hands

See My Crown (I am King)

An Emperor and his Heirs

Ice-fishing

5. do you respond to comments?

From time to time! I usually don't because I don't have the energy, and I feel like I would sound very repetitive just saying thank you, but I will usually reply if I feel like I have something substantial to say/to answer questions that won't be answered by the narrative. I'm also more likely to reply to longer comments or "regulars"/people who's usernames I recognize, lol.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ooh, with the angstiest ending? Despite my enjoyment of angst I don't really do sad endings; I loved you (and it felt like dying) as well as and im lonely (there, i said it.) are both venty drabbles I wrote a long ass time ago, so that's as close as I've got.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

when trouble comes (I'll be by your side) has a good happy ending, and of course the whole point of lay all your love on me is that it's a alternate "happy ending" for ASOR. Usually I fuck with a good bittersweet ending though <3

8. do you get hate on fics?

Usually not! I would say I've only ever gotten a real "hate" comment once, and it was some asshole being like "stop asking for nice comments blah blah blah you like getting your dick sucked" as if the whole point of oral sex isn't to enjoy it? that was wild.

9. do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes!!! Though I usually post it on anon. I love writing power exchange and power imbalance and power dynamics as a whole – I've written lots of lovely, consensual scenes with on-screen negotiation... and also several where the thorough-line of the scene is lack of communication to the point of toxicity, LMAO. It's definitely rare for me to write anything that could be reasonably considered "vanilla"

I also enjoy writing some omegaverse from time to time!

10. do you write crossovers?

Lots and lots and lots! the The Coldhands Project is my baby, that's a Danny Phantom x Rise of the Guardians crossover. My current WIP is Zorian Kazinski and the Unfulfilled Prophecy, a MoL x HP crossover. There was a point in my life were I really wanted to write a DSMP x Hermitcraft crossover, though that never ended up coming to fruition... and I've also written some DPxDC, though that's on anon :)

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, though I suspect someone's been heavily inspired by my work before, to the point of it being noticeable. Not that I can say anything, since that would make me a massive hypocrite lol... I definitely did the same when I was a baby fanfic writer in middle school and didn't understand the consequences of my actions. Hence those orphaned works.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge!

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Nope -w-

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Currently, it's definitely tompercy, and I've written upwards of 80k words about them... lol :3c

Of all time it probably would've been TNTduo if thinking about it these days didn't leave a sour taste in my mouth. I loved that ship for many years.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I doubt I will ever finish nine years with you... but I love Daine/Numair deeply in my heart. It would just take a lot of effort and research, so I doubt I'll ever come back to it.

It'll be a miracle if I ever finish The Coldhands Project but I'm utterly determined to.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I love to do some heavy description to set the scene and mood, I love to do internal turmoil, and I love to write two characters who are insane about each other. And generally speaking, I'd say I can do a passable job at most scenes :)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Actually so many. I really struggle with action scenes, whether the action be fighting or sex – I physically can't choreograph a sword fight, and how do you make thirty minutes of repetitive movement sound engaging? I really want to learn how to write intertwined plot lines, which I'm actively working on and attempting to write, but I'm forgetful as hell and it's hard for me to keep track of things... also, complex political intrigue isn't easy to come up with!

Finally, literally how do you write characters smarter than you? If they just think through things faster than average that's alright, because I can take as long as I want to think of what they would come up with in thirty seconds... but characters who just outright have more knowledge than you? Characters who are charming and charismatic, or excellent at reading social cues, when I'm incredibly asocial? Characters who are sharp, sarcastic, witty, and mean? I have such a hard time writing characters who know how to do things I'm absolutely clueless at.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm actually doing this right now for Zorian Kazinski and the Unfulfilled Prophecy!!! Although, Ikosian is a fictional language so of course, I can just make things up. I get to play around a lot with how linguistics and translations work – for example, Zorian initially translates the Ikosian word for mind magic into the English "mind magic"... because, of course, that's what it's called in the text of MoL. But there might be a scene coming up where he decides a more elegant word for it would be "psychomancy" – [psycho-] translating from the Ikosian "mind", and [-mancy] translating from the Ikosian "magic". Isn't that sick???

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Avengers/MCU; I wrote parkner as well as irondad & spiderson stuff.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

I have a list of these on my AO3 profile so I'm copy-pasting from there... in no particular order:

Shaky Ground also known as Pit AU, a bedrock bros centric, 2b2t-inspired, character study fic w plot in the background

when trouble comes (I'll be by your side), a deity 3/4 SBI & human!Tommy character study w plot in the background (you're sensing a pattern here)

deal with the devil is a demon!Wilbur x bartender/witch!Quackity tntduo

golden light, and what comes with it, a writing style study that's also a Jamie Bennett character study... lol

all my tompercy/ASOR fics. Having to choose favorites between these would take a whole nother list because I have many, many favorites

Anyways nobody tagged me for this so anyone can do it, do whatever you want forever

[magical-xirl-4]

From worst to best (or in your case, least awful), how would you rank all the sides of the Love Square?

Oooh jeez this will be interesting because I think my opinions on it have changed a lot.

I used to be cool with all sides of the square but since the show has devolved into what it is, I definitely like some less than others. Keep in mind, I haven’t watched the show since season 3 so I might be missing some info or be wrong. These are my subjective opinion too, it’s just how I feel about each so I’m looking the writing in all of them.

Adrinette

Because of what’s happened so far in the story, I can’t fucking stand this side. To me this ship represents the entire square so really I’m almost saying that hate the whole square, but it’s not exactly true. Adrinette is so frustrating because they canonised it without giving the audience the full satisfaction of the whole square being realised. What’s the point in the LS anymore if there’s no draw to it? Why are people still watching this show? Once again I haven’t kept up with the show since S3 so forgive me if I’m wrong but; didn’t the whole square flip at some point? So, Marichat were into each other but Ladrien was not? It rubs me the wrong way because it makes me dislike how they write Adrien even more: because it’s what Adrien wants, Marinette can finally date him, even though she literally got over him??

Anyway, I used to like this side of the square second most but now it just leaves a sour taste in my mouth. It has so many more problems but I don’t have much time to go into them.

Edit: from what I know now with season 5, they are lowkey abusive?!?! With Adrien/Cat never being mad at Marinette/Ladybug for messing up and always giving in and forgiving her and telling her she’s right?!?! Holy shit they just made him even more of a doormat because he’s in love with her. It genuinely sounds like a reaction an abused person would have with idolising their partner, and creating an imbalance. Not to mention she doesn’t actually love the Cat Noir side of him, according to Catwalker, That’s so upsetting and genuinely fucked up, the LS is literally fucked.

Ladynoir

I always felt very meh about this side, but I understood where it had its fans. It’s kind of a shame that this side was just totally shut down by recent developments but it also makes things awkward because, Maribug had feelings for Chat at some point and Adrichat had feelings for Ladybug. They’ve definitely had romantic tension together at some point but that’s all supposed to be gone because of Adrinette. Thing is, I can totally see the writers sowing more seeds of emotional cheating because of course (I didn’t watch the NY special either but I heard that happened so).

I’ve always liked Ladynoir third most, second least? Because Ladybug clearly didn’t feel the same way about Chat. Sure further down the line she did but it started with Chat always pushing and pushing and her rejecting and rejecting. He’s tried to kiss her multiple times and even after he’s told no he still doesn’t get it (Prime Queen). Not to mention the disaster that was Glaciator.

I used to be whatever about it but now it’s just kind of sad, they could’ve had romantic tension without it being weird but now all hopes are dashed with now worries of cheating taking place. Yeah, it’s not looking good 😭

Marichat

I used to like this one the least (I never disliked it) because they weren’t mutually into each other. Since recent developments and a more of an appreciation for their dynamic, I’m surprised that it’s not my second least favourite but since they had that whole romantic confession thing I guess I shouldn’t be. Now I have no idea what the fuck is happening with this side but, good for them I guess? I have no idea how the development was handled for them developing feelings either but imagine it was somewhat okay so, big win?

Marichat always had a fun dynamic but I was indifferent to it it because I’m used to seeing “girl rolls eyes at boy being flirty” it’s just so over done in my eyes? And it almost felt like Ladynoir 2.0, because let’s be honest he WAS being flirty in Evillustrator. So yeah I was “just making sure I’m different” about it, but now we got Adrinette being that and Ladynoir being stale, I can’t help but actually appreciate this one, which, unfortunately, makes the standards quite low. Also, I never liked how much the fandom sexualised this side the most so I still have a negative bias toward it but it’s never what it used to be.

Ladrien

Onto my forever favourite side of the square, and it’s purely because of how they for the longest time had mutual feelings for each other. I always thought how cute it was that Ladybug was able to save Adrien and take his breath was taken away. Marinette got to be heroic for the boy she likes, and I can’t help but still get gushy over how Adrien swoons over her in Dark Cupid. Gorizilla is my favourite S2 episode and it’s because of the amazing Ladrien and how hilarious it is. It’s just a very bubbly feelings sort of ship, and it makes sense because 99% of the time I love my ships having mutual feelings from the get go or getting a long very well.

I have no idea currently what the side is like in the show. All I know is that they fell out of love w each other (kind of?), so they don’t have this bubbly feeling toward each other except for Maribug getting feelings for Adrien AGAIN. To say that it’s my favourite is still quite sad because there’s no hope for it.

This isn’t exactly a straight forward ranking because of my lack of knowledge and my own subjective opinion but, here ya go

[arianaofimladris]

Whumptober 2022

Another Witcher installment for Whumptober 2022.

Prompts used: - NO. 11 "911, WHAT'S YOUR EMERGENCY?" - Self-Done first aid - NO. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE - New Scars - NO. 19 ENOUGH IS ENOUGH - Alt. 11 Stabbed

If you prefer to read on ao3, the story is available here: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42431703

Please consider tossing a few words to your writer. I accept and appreciate all kinds of reviews, critics too.

***

Sanctuary

His senses came back slowly. First was the scent or herbs and fresh linen. Second – the damp cloth on his forehead, low enough to cover his eyes as well. Third was the pain. He tried to move and his breath hitched as his left side flared up.

“Ah, finally!”

Geralt blinked as the cloth was removed. The voice was familiar and one he dearly wished to hear in his current situation. Nenneke, the priestess in the temple of Melitele, was the one he had hoped to reach. It seemed he had somehow succeeded, though the last thing he remembered was slow, painful ride with growing dread that he would not make it to Ellander in time. He couldn’t recall actually reaching the temple, but is seemed he had.

"I-," he tried to push himself up and felt the last bit of blood drain from his face as the pain returned with all its violence. His instinct was to curl back, arm wrapped protectively around his abdomen, hand pressed to the gaping holes at his side. He felt thick bandages under his fingers, the nauseating feeling suddenly overwhelming everything but pain.

"No, no, don't! It's too-"

-

"-Geralt? Oh, come now."

He felt warm, plump fingers patting at his cheek. He fought with his heavy lids and blinked, but his mind was too foggy to adjust his pupils. Geralt squinted and saw Nenneke leaning over him, one hand keeping him firmly in place, the other still on his face.

"What-?" His throat felt like sandpaper.

"You back with me? Good. Don’t try to move just yet, everything is still so fresh. Here.” The priestess raised his head a bit and pressed a mug to his lips. He drank greedily despite the awful, sour taste of the drink. It wasn’t worse than his potions and seemed to work just as well.

Once the pain dulled a little, Geralt finally managed to focus his gaze on Nenneke. She looked weary, dark circles under her eyes standing out against her pale face, but her eyes were lively as ever and her cheeks flushed with anger. She gained more weight since he had last seen her, but her movements were swift and energetic as always, despite her obvious weariness. Gone was her long braid and the robes she wore were different shade than he had known. Geralt remembered how she used to wrap her braid around her head to keep it out of her way. Now her hair was shorter, put in an elegant bun. His brain finally supplied him with information where he had seen the robes she was wearing. Oh, he realised. Mother superior. She was no longer one of the priestesses responsible for tutoring healers. She was the head of the temple.

He must have looked even less lucid than he felt, because Nenneke cupped his face again.

“Geralt? No, don’t fall asleep just yet, I need to redress the wounds and a little cooperation from your part would be appreciated. Tell me, what was that? Shall I worry about poisoning as well?”

“No,” the witcher whispered. “Griffin’s claws. I cleaned it.”

“Alright, I want you to turn on your right,” Nenneke slid one hand under his back. “Don’t try to do it on your own, just work with me. You somehow managed to keep your intestines inside you and I would like them to stay like that. A griffin? A mere griffin managed to grab you in half like that? What were you trying to kill it with? A spoon?”

Horizontal change of position didn’t cost him as much, but he still sucked a breath as Nenneke touched his side. Glancing down, he could see red spots on the dressings covering the deep puncture wounds the claws had left. He was glad the griffin hadn’t managed to tear the whole part of flesh from his side. He wouldn’t have managed to patch that up well enough to even hope to reach Ellander.

“I went after one. There were two. And a young one,” Geralt explained. “I wanted to deal with them anyway. Be done, go on.”

“So you were cocky. Look where it left you.” A stream of curses left Nenenke’s mouth as she finally removed the bandages. “No, don’t you move!” She hissed sharply as Geralt couldn’t stop a painful whimper and tried to roll back. “Don’t make it worse!”

Even if he wanted to oppose her, he had no strength to do so. Nenneke worked on his wounds, cleaning them and swearing at fresh blood that stained the cloth she was using. Geralt focused on his breathing, trying slow and calm his heartbeat. Both were too fast and shallow for a witcher.

After what seemed like forever, Nenneke wrapped him up again and let him rest. Geralt sighed in relief and swallowed, trying to get rid of the metallic taste of blood from his bitten lip.

“You still awake? Good. I want you to try and eat a bit.” Nenneke covered him back with blankets and carefully propped him up with additional pillows. Geralt tried to cooperate, but his head lolled against his will; it seemed impossible to keep it up. Nenneke sighed and sat at the edge of the bed, supporting his head to feed him. The witcher feared his stomach would rebel, but the broth was mild and warm. The process was painfully slow and humiliating. Frankly, he found himself too weak to really care.

A little food seemed to work wonders and at least the nauseating feeling was gone. Nenneke helped Geralt lie down back on his uninjured side and the witcher watched her lazily as she cleaned her tools and picked the bloodied bandages. After a moment of silence she caught his gaze and her expression hardened.

"One more thing, Geralt. What possessed you to take those drugs of yours? You came here quite idiotically high considering your state."

Geralt rasped. "Couldn't bear riding,” he admitted. “Had to stay awake somehow."

“Well, you didn’t come here exactly lucid,” Nenneke scoffed. “A group of merchants you met on the road brought you here two days ago, barely conscious, hanging on your horse like a sack of grain. Don’t look so surprised, people around know witchers come here for healing and learning, you’re hardly the only one.”

“Nice change,” he muttered sourly.

“That didn’t exactly answer my question.”

"Ran out of painkillers," Geralt winced.

Nenneke's nostrils flared dangerously. "What do you mean you ran out of? I don't know about your witcher tutors, but I sure remember teaching you better than that."

Geralt winced. "Had a rough month."

"Yes, I've seen." Nenneke shook her head in admonishment. "What did they stitch you that with? Twine?" She pointed at the fresh scar running a little below his right shoulder blade and down to the ribs. The skin was still pinkish, the edges rough and uneven.

"Nothing," Geralt replied. "I couldn't reach it, and-," he winced again and looked away. The memory still stung, despite everything.

Vesemir had warned him, warned them all before they set off, each on his own. He has warned them people would likely either hire them or spit at their sight. Geralt had quickly learned not to play the valiant knight. Still, so far the people he dealt with were suspicious but civil enough, so it came as an unpleasant surprise when he returned to the village with the head of the wyvern and was told to leave as soon as he was reluctantly paid. Nobody seemed to care he came back bleeding and they refused to help him. Geralt left then, preferring to set his camp in some secluded spot where he wouldn’t have to watch his back constantly. He patched himself up, then spent there the next few miserable days before he felt good enough to travel. The wound healed quickly, though not as neatly as it would have, had it been taken care of. Hence Nenneke’s obvious displeasure.

"And?" The priestess was clearly waiting.

Geralt told her briefly what happened, finding out that keeping his eyes open was becoming harder and harder. A full stomach, along with pain dulling potion and the warm blanket tugged around him made the prospect of undisturbed sleep irresistible.

“Fools and barbarians,” Nenneke placed the mug angrily enough to slosh a bit of broth. She sighed. “Well, I’m not letting you out of here until you are healed. Rest now, I will check on you later.”

[justblades]

𖣯 FOR THE : SLICK&SLOPPY! 500 EVENT

♡ CHARACTERS : mysta, ike + kyo x gender neutral! reader

SCENARIO : BLINDFOLDS ! WC : 1.2k

WARNINGS : SMUT, MDNI. dubcon, brat taming, slight bondage, not proofread.

MYSTA — "happy birthday mysta!" you greet to him as the grizzle haired opens the lid of life-sized box, revealing you wrapped in silk ribbons and blindfold depriving you of your sense of sight. it felt a little skittish to be greeted with a short minute of silence at first, but when the male finally lifts you up from the box's hard surface, your bottom makes contact with the fluffy sheets right after.

"i'm at a loss for words right now." he mumbles to your ears, gloved black hands tracing the bindings on your body like a gift for him. the way the leather fabric brushes on your skin leaves jolts of excitement coursing through your veins, it rakes shivers up and down your spine that you couldn't help but mewl.

you nod with a sheepish smile in exchange. all it took for mysta to register what happened was a quick nanosecond and your back was pushed to lay flat on the sinking mattress. hands tied, feet tied, eyes blindfolded; you had no idea what was happening but it was so exciting. zipper noises echo inside his spacious bedroom, as well as shuffling of trousers until it gets pulled back down.

mysta crouches at your body with both of his legs guarding the sides of your head. he lowers his pelvis for you to reach his dick in its full glory— he uses his hands to guide you towards it and when you finally envelop his warmth with your lush lips, he feels himself immediately cream.

a sharp taste of sourness sparks like firecrackers in your tastebuds but you still did the drill, you bob your head up and down his dick with the help of your partner, making sloppy noises everytime you take him in. his hands shake whenever you tried to suck him deeper, also going as far as sticking your tongue out to caress the back of his shaft, tracing lines that would surely make mysta catch his bliss in a matter of seconds. "best birthday gift ever." he utters lowly, breath becoming heavy.

IKE — your job was a simple one, you were fortunate enough to do the bare minimum and still be paid with a wage that's worth to keep you alive for 2 years. although whenever some of your acquaintances would ask what you do for a living, you'd rather be general and not be specific about it, because as weird as it sounds, you're the novelist's specimen to be used for his writings.

specimen is one way to call it, you're more like an assistant that assists him on how he can keep his scenes hold truth while also the work itself being fictional. usually, he'd call you to his studio whenever he's planning to do bed scenes for his works that the general public have been loving.

the writer was indeed knowledgeable in a lot of things, it's just that he deemed you as someone who's always full of suprises that he based some of the events he wrote on his books from you; his assistant. today, you stand across the bi-haired male with a weak stature, feeling somewhat like a nervous wreck in front of ike. "sir, why the need for blindfold?"

"this is exactly how i'm writing the scene. i need you again to fill the gaps of details for me." he answers nonchalantly, treading towards your figure only to snake his hands around your waist, facing your back. ike slowly trails his hands upwards as his fingers carefully palm through your soft buds, protruding from the thin layer of shirt he made you wear. from how skilled he was from his hands, it was inevitable your libido had increased.

his dominant hand continues to toy with your nipple until it perks up much to his liking, while his other one forcibly inserts a plug inside your hole with no forewarnings— right after just stripping you off your undergarments. you couldn't stifle your moans of pain mixed with pleasure anymore hence why you start to fall on your knees, it was worse for you couldn't see anything.

ike just watches above you, whipping out the control to adjust the frequency and vibration of the device clamped inside your walls. you curl into a ball from the unanticipated sensation brewing in your lower abdomen, "s—sir ike . ." you attempt your best to plead for mercy but he heeds no attention to it at all. "the way you're begging for me right now is attractive."

KYO — "you need to be taught a lesson." his deep voice chimes into your ears, jade and blue hues narrowing as he peers straight into your soul. meanwhile you remain seated, straddling his lap with your hands wrapped around his back, lips pursed into a thin line from the nervousness gnawing at your bones.

slowly grinding your lower region against his thigh to be granted a little slack for kyo's so-called punishment since you tried to tease him sexually in front of his friends, he doesn't budge a movement. kyo only watches your pathetic figure attempt its best at arousing him, while you had no idea if you were doing the right thing since— you were blindfolded.

"kyo, i've been good lately i don't see why you need to do this." attempting to bargain for a softer punishment, kyo immediately grabs a fistful of your hair as he forcibly crashes his lips on yours with ardor. his lips were soft and plump, tongue as well slick in slipping itself in with no problem. his other hand constantly palms through your sex swiftly, but his movements tend to lean on the harsher side.

"it hurts too much." you mumble to his ears while resting your head on his shoulder, arms starting to hook on his neck as support to keep on grinding on him like an animal in heat. your voice was shaking but kyo's was as firm as his belief that you were being a bad partner to him. "i don't want you to be seen by the others . . hence why i'm doing this."

he pumps your genitalia, curling his digits up and down to which moans of satisfaction bubble from your throat. "of course, i . . i won't let others see me like this." stammering, he scoffs in sarcasm as the arctic haired picks up his pace in doing you. your thighs start to flinch every stroke he does, mind also feeling fuzzy from the prolonged foreplay.

"you like this so much it seems, it can't be helped if you're that thirsty for me." kyo says in exchange, now rubbing your back once he halts from pleasuring your lower region. "now tell me, what is it exactly that pissed me off and what are you going to do to avoid it next time?"

[redheadspark]

Holding Back

Holding Back

Summary: After the Eternal Reader saves him from a near death experience with a Deviant, Druig asks her to teach him how to fight and defend himself.  This then sparks something in the both of them they never saw coming

WC: 6,816 words

Warnings: Nothing serious really. Some fluff and a HINT tension (I’m no SMUT writer, sorry )

A/N: I literally wrote this in one day with the thought of Druig learning how to throw a punch! 

My Eternal Reader has the cosmic Energy of producing an Exoskeleton around herself to give her brute strength in fighst!

I tried editing it as best as I could, sorry for any error or spelling mistakes!  Hope you enjoy!

WC: 4,459 words

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                                                             Babylon

The first time you saved Druig was during your early days on the planet.

Babylon was still developing as a community and as a society, the humans there were not but grateful for the work and service of The Eternals that were there.  You kept the humans safe from the Deviants, which became a daily chore for you all to fend off and kill.  Yet you and your Eternal family were there to destroy all the Deviants on the planet, it was set in stone by the Celestial you created you: Arishem.  You have yet to meet the Celestrial himself, but Ajak was the only one who could communicate with Arishem, so you all had to rely on her and what she would tell us.  Meeting after meeting, it was the same two rules:

Destroy the Deviants, and do not interfere with human conflicts.

Just like the others, you were finding yourself falling in love with the human race.  They were fragile, yes, but they were also filled with joy and light. They beamed in wonder at you when you would defend their home from Deivants, seeing your midnight gray armor shining in the light as you fought with closed fists and level feet.  Your cosmic energy glowed around your body as you could produce an exoskeleton that was practically nearly indestructible.  You could take blow after blow from a Deviant, not breaking a sweat or even getting a single scarp from an assault.  You weren't as powerful as Gilgamesh, nor as quick on your feet like Makkari or even Thena with her weapons, but your exoskeleton was a weapon in itself.

You knew how to fight, and you fight well.

Not all of your Eternal family members could fight, which wasn't a bother or a burden.  You each had a gift or ability to use and bring, always bringing each other up with praises and endearing words.  You loved each ability that was used, especially the ones who were always underestimated.  Phastos was a marvelous inventor, making things out of thin air that helped the evolution of humans.  Sersi was gentle and kind, transforming things that were beneficial to the humans that were wrapped around her finger.  Sprite was good with her illusions, painting a tale to tell the humans that entranced them and gave them hope.  Ajak was the soothing and kind mother figure of our group with healing hands and gentle words.

Which left Druig.

He controlled the mind of humans, being able to bend their will with just a look from his glowing eyes.  Like the others, he knew how powerful he was and would try to use it for the better of the humans.  Yet in contrast with the others, Druig was more on a beaten path that seemed a bit off from the rest.  He saw and felt things in the humans that you didn't nor did the others.  Perhaps he knew how frail they were and would try to prevent them from demise.  Ajak would remind him plenty of times to not interfere with their inner conflict with one another, which always left a sour taste in his mouth.  You didn't say it, but you saw how sad he would be at times for not stopping a fight or an inner human war.  

You two were cordial, good friends to be precise.  You would snort from the banter he would partake in with either Phastos or Kingo, showing his sarcastic side and poking fun with his fellow Eternals every once in a while.  Even seeing him help the humans with farming or repairing their homes brought a new sense of light to him.  He was never one to want to fight.  He was the opposite, actually.  When there was a scuffle, he would try and diffuse it.  If there was any sense of a fight about to break out, he would stop it then and there.  It was safe to say the aloof Eternal was growing on you, very slowly.  You never think of it at first, it would take you years to realize it.

With this one recent fight, we had at least 3 massive Deviants to take care of.  You were already out on patrol when you saw them coming, warning the others just in time to get ready for the fight.  Ajak and Sprite stayed on the Domo to watch inc are we needed help, Sersi and Druig were going to get the humans into the walls of the city, away from the fight and out of harm's way.  You were partnered with Makkari in taking on one of the massive Deviants while Ikaris, Gilgamesh, and Thena were taking on the second Deviant on the other side of the city, which left Ikaris and Kingo with the third near the outlands.   

Makkari was moving left and right swiftly and was light on her feet, taking out blow after blow with her fists against the Deviant in front of us.  You got a few clicks into the beast yourself, using your exoskeleton ability within the fists and arms to weaken the strength of the Deviant down.  Makkari was a good fighter, using her speed with her punches and then having a sonic boom flow through her to land a massive blow. 

Once the Deviant that you were battling took its last breath in a heap on the dusty ground,  the both of you sighed in relief as we were finished with this one particular Deviant.  You looked over at Makkari, seeing her wipe a small sliver of sweat off her forehead as you walked over with a small grin on your face.

That one was tough, you signed to her, seeing her grin back at you.

But we did it.  We're a good team!  Makkari reasoned back with you with swift movements in her fingers.  You were about to say something else when a massive roar was heard in the distance.  You and Makkari looked over in the direction, seeing not too far off a cluster of humans were rushing through the city gates, a Deviant not too far behind them.  You panic, hearing the screams of the humans as the Deviant was coming closer and closer at a rapid speed.

Makkari grabbed your hand, speeding the both of you over to the area.  It was within a second, the two of you and on your feet right in front of the humans.  Makkari started speeding around, ushering humans one at a time through the agues.  You looked too, seeing Druig was off to the side with glowing eyes.  The humans that were rushing through the gate had glowing eyes too, having you realize Druig was controlling them in getting them inside.  Would Ajak approve of this?  It didn't matter, because your heart was dropping from what you were seeing.

The Deviant saw Druig, running over to him instead of the humans.

"DRUIG!" You scream, running as fast as you could the small distance over to where he was.  You had good 30 feet to run over, the Deviant getting closer and closer to him.  Druig, hearing your voice, snapped out of his mind control and his eyes went back to their regular blue, hearing the roar of the Deviant that was barreling his way.  You ran faster, determined to get there first since you knew Druig had no chance of moving away in time.  He looked at the beast, his eyes going big and his stance going stiff as if he was a statue itself.  

You slid on your knees to be between them, your exoskeleton energy hovering over your body just in time.  Facing Druig, you threw your arms out to make your exoskeleton expand into a shield around yourself and in front of the Deviant.  You stood on your feet, feeling the blow of the Deviant against your back as it slammed into you.  The force was so strong Druig fell onto his back as the Deviant ricocheted off of you and over your makeshift shield in a defeated roar.  You didn't feel any pain from the impact, but seeing the Deviant soar over your head through your peripheral vision.  You were about to look up at the Deviant that was flying over your head when something else was catching your eye.  

Druig was on the ground, on his back, and he was staring at you with his wide blue eyes.

Something inside you shifted, almost like a piece that was too big to too small to fit into a formation.  You had no idea if it was because of his eyes and how they were both wide and bright, or the fact that he looked vulnerable on the ground there beneath my feet.  But something was telling you to protect him, to shield him with all your might and with all your strength you had within yourself.  He was kind, kinder than the other would give him credit for.  Yet the others almost overlooked it, thinking of his quietness and sarcastic nature.  But he was your friend, someone who was almost itched in the back of your mind and who you knew to be important to this family that you had.  

Seeing his eyes stare directly right at you made you almost lose your breath.  You never saw him so vulnerable and exposed before.  All you were thinking about was making sure he stayed alive, but that's not what he was seeing back at you.

The Deviant slammed into the wall behind Druig, making you breath out a few deep breaths while still in your crouched position and hovering slightly over Druig.  He was frozen, almost petrified by what he had just witnessed.  You breathed out carefully, moving your arms back down at your sides and standing completely back up.  Your exoskeleton energy disappeared as you looked down at Druig, moving your hair out of your eyes before you finally reached down to take his hand.  You hoisted him up, noticing his calloused hand was slightly shaking.

You stood in front of each other, making you look over his form to make sure he was truly okay.  His eyes were still trained on you with either shock or admiration, maybe even fascination.  

"You okay?" You asked, seeing that he was still somewhat frozen.  Perhaps in shock, but you saw him gulp as he was almost lost in your eyes.  He nodded quickly then, not his cool and collected self.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," he replied, his voice sounding almost scratchy with his answer.  You merely smiled, about to say something else to him to break this weird tension.  It felt like tension, and there was no real reason for it.  You saved him from an assault from a Deviant, you would have done it with anyone else.  But why did this feel….unique?

"Hey!  I could use your help over here!"  It was Kingo that called out to you, having both yourself and Druig look over to see him trying to tire down the Deviant he was up against.  You shot a look back at Druig, patting him lightly on the arm.

  "Stay out of trouble," You replied in a huff, then running off from Druig over to the direction of Kingo.  You weren't thinking about too much, merely thinking that you were doing what you were supposed to do.  But you didn't realize that Druig was watching you with his bright blue eyes, still in some kind of trance.  

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"Teach me how to fight,"

You paused, standing in the middle of the meeting room of the Domo as you heard Druig right behind you.  You turned on your heel to see him standing in the hallway, watching you with determination in his eyes as he was hovering slightly in the dim light.  You raised an eyebrow at him.

"How to fight?" You asked him, not understanding.

"Yes," he replied lightly, walking over to you a bit as you cocked your head at him, "I've watched how you spar with Thena or Kingo, even with Makkari.  I wanna know how to fight like that,"

"Why would you wanna learn?" You asked him, intrigued with the notion of showing Druig how to fight, "You hating fighting,"

"I do," He hummed in agreement, "But it doesn't mean that I don't want to be prepared if I do need to fight,"

"Prepared?" You questioned him, almost cocking a grin at him then folding your arms in front of yourself, "I take it you're expecting to fight another human while we're here.  Doesn't sound like you, Druig.  But why me?  Why not ask Thena since she's the stronger fighter, or even Makkari or Ikaris,"

"Thena scares me a bit with how she fights," Druig admitted quietly, though you grinned at him since he felt a bit flustered in telling you how he felt about Thena, "Makkari's too fast for me to keep up."

"And Ikaris?" you had to ask, yet you saw him grimace a bit.  You then sighed, shaking your head slightly.  Druig and Ikaris were never on the greatest of terms, especially when it came to the philosophy of humans and our duties as Eternals.  Ikaris was the second in command, and you did see how he listened to Ajak's every word with bated breath.  Druig saw it as annoying.

"Never mind about him," You hummed then, "But....me?"

"You're a great fighter," Druig explained, "I've seen you fight.  You're precise and smooth in your movements.  I need to know how to move like that so I won't be as vulnerable as I was out there,"

"First of all, that was a Deviant," You reminded him, "We can still be killed by a Deviant if we're not careful.  And since you can't use your mind control on a Deviant, you expect to just rely on your fists?"

He said nothing but was still staring at you for some kind of answer.  He was a stubborn one at that, never blowing with the wind of decisions that were thrown at him.  You could see it in how he was staring at you and in how he was standing there with his hands folded in front of him, he wasn't going to budge in his determination to have you teach him to fight.  It still felt insane for you to do this for him, out of everyone on the Domo.  You knew Thena and Makkari, even Ikaris for that matter, were way better at fighting when it came to tactics and a certain skill.  

Yet, he chose you.

You finally sighed, seeing there was no way out of this, "Fine.  I'll teach you,"

Druig grinned from ear to ear when he agreed, almost having his whole face light up in pure relief that you would agree with him.  You then held a singular finger up at him.

"We're gonna spar like the others, though," you explained, "No powers are allowed.  You're gonna learn the old fashion way,"

Druig held up his hands at you, a twinkle in his eyes as he still smiled at him.  You almost felt your heart stutter a bit now as he nodded.

"Whatever you say."

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Teaching Druig how to fight was a bit more of a challenge than you thought.

First off, the boy had lead in his feet.  That was the first thing you had to show him and train him on: being light on his feet.  Sure he tried to keep up, but after the first two sessions of him just trying to avoid being slammed by one of your hooks or getting his leg swiped, it was going to be harder for him to even just stay on the tip of his toes.  Every time he landed on his back or in some kind of hold, you could see the frustration in how he wasn't about to win a round.  But you would remind him that he was learning, seeing the stubbornness seeping in his stance when you would restart and try again.

He took every tip and criticism wholeheartedly.  You showed him how to move his arm in a punch, how to swiftly move his legs to dodge a strike and then re-center again.  You were calm in what you told him, seeing how he was an infant fighter.  When you saw he was getting tired or almost delirious, you ended the session.  But he wasn't all the way useless, he had some fire within him when it came to you showing him how to hold his own.  

It took a solid few months before you saw improvement.

"She worked you good, didn't she?" Phastos asked in a snort as he watched Druig slowly drag his feet to his spot in the meeting room, waiting for the rest of the group to come together for the morning briefing with Ajak.  You were sitting on the other side of the room with Thena and Makkari, staying silent with a small smirk on your face as Druig grunted and groaned while he sat down on the bench.  All Makkari could do was smile widely from her seat as she ate some fruit, amused at the mind controller and his sore body. Phastos chuckled next to Sprite, who was almost sporting a wide grin from seeing the mind controller with aching muscles.  Gilgamesh laughed from his seat next to Thena and yourself.  

"You know, it could be worse," Gilgamesh said to Druig, yet Druig glared at him now as Gilgamesh shrugged, "She's going easy on you,"

"How can you tell?" Druig asked in a low tone, keeping his glare at him as he was sitting a bit uncomfortably in his spot.

"You're still walking," Sprite explained from her spot on the otherwise of Kingo and Phastos, "When she spars with Ikaris, she works him so hard he hardly stands.  You're getting off light,"

"Alright, that's enough for now.  We have much to discuss today," Ajak floated into the room with Ikaris right on her heels, the others snapping over to her at attention.  Ajak gave Druig a quick look over before she then looked over in your direction, giving you a small concerned look.

"As reassuring and generous as it is that you're teaching Druig some self-defense, let's ease up on the sparing and have him rest," Ajak advised you, once again hearing the soft snickering of both Phastos and Sprite.  You merely nodded at your leader, saying nothing else before she gave you a small wink.  You just smiled, watching her turn back to the group to start the meeting.  You couldn't help but look over at Druig, seeing him rearrange himself on the seat before he finally found a good way to sit.  He looked at you then, having you give him a reassuring smile.  He smiled too, though it looked a bit strained when he did. But it was a smile none the less. Maybe you were going too hard on him, seeing that he could barely walk or sit without having some muscle pain.  

"At least he doesn't spar with me," Thena mumbled under her breath into your ear as you looked from Druig over to her now, seeing her give me one of her intense yet kind stares, "I would have made him bleed the first round.  You’re going easy on him, aren't you?"

"Not really, why?" You whispered back to her, seeing her cock her head at you.  Ajak was discussing something with Phastos and Ikaris, not even hearing both yourself and Thena talk to each other.

"It seems like you are, that you're afraid to hurt him," Thena explained some more, "You and I go at it hard, practically every time.  But with him….you're holding back,"

"He's not a fighter," you reminded her, "Not like us.  He wants to be though. I don’t want to hurt him, Thena."

"And yet he's learning from you," Thena countered back with you as she gave you a sincere smile, "You must be doing something right for Druig to come to you and only you,"

You said nothing else as Thena looked over at Ajak to discuss the new patrols that were going to be in place for the next week.  You stayed quiet, reeling what Thena said about Druig.  Thena was right: He only came to you.  He had others that he could have learned from, and you knew the other fighters in the group had their way in fighting and attacking.  However, he returned to you every time like clockwork. You weren't anything special when it came to actual fighting, you only had an exoskeleton to protect you and to use.  It wasn't that you doubted yourself in what you could do.  You were confident enough in your being.

But now you that a small sliver of insecurity from a mere comment from Thena, because of Druig.

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Druig was getting better as another few more months went by.  The soreness in his muscles was slipping away with every session you would do with him.  You could see the toned muscles building in his arms and legs, sculpting him down a bit to be more sharp and angular. His speed was getting faster and his footwork was much better.  Druig even looked forward to meeting with you in the late afternoons after his patrol, already putting the notes and tips you gave him to practice.  Although you were still winning fight after fight with him, he was no longer beating himself up too much about it.  It fueled him to do better.  Dodging a hook before moving around on his heel, ducking his head to barely miss hitting a blow against your rib.  

He was getting better.

When you two would take a break for a few rounds, you would sit together and find yourselves in deep talks.  You find it easy to talk to Druig, discussing the recent human activities there in Babylon.  Druig loved hearing you talk about what the humans would show you when you would walk around the city, willing to help them in dire times and be sincere.  You did love the humans, seeing how such a fragile but caring race grow right in front of your eyes and they watched you like a mere God.  

Druig, in return, exposed some of his fears and uncertainties of holding back with min color ability with the humans.  He would still help out in the open field, fixing homes that were damaged from attacks, or help Phastos in showing new tools to the humans.  It was simply nice to talk with him and you both grew close.

Closer than you ever thought.

He still stayed behind during Deviant attacks, but he didn't mind it.  You went out to protect the humans as you always did.  But after a fight, you gravitated over to Druig to discuss how the fight went.  He would listen on a still breath when you would tell him the play by play, almost entranced in what you would tell him.  It made me wonder why he would only want to listen to you and what you had to say about it as if you were far more important.  

Yet it was easy to talk with him, almost as easy as breathing or even running.  You both talked to each other constantly and with no hesitation, growing closer and closer together as friends and comrades with the Eternals.  He would crack a joke with you to make you laugh, or you would poke a jab about Ikaris under your breath and he would snort.  It was safe to assume, you two were rather close then.

But something was holding you back.

You were seeing him in a new light, seeing the highlights in his hair out in the sun when you would walk side by side.  Or you would notice a small beauty mark he had near his jawline, almost having an itching sensation to touch it with his fingers and his skin was indeed soft.  You started to notice these things when you were close in your sparring sessions, and it was making your stomach fit and somersault.  Was it because you two were growing together into a relationship that seemed more than friendship?  Perhaps was it because you loved hearing him talk and show more of his true self around you so easily and organically.  

You were getting afraid that you were catching feelings for him, something that was foreign to you and you've never felt before.  Sersi and Ikaris were already a couple there on the Domo, and although you were glad they were together and found their won concept of love, you didn't think you would find it yourself at that moment in time.  Love was the last thing on your list, the romantic kind anyway.  But it was slipping into your brain and your chest whenever you were around Druig.

Were you in love?  

It was like a cord that as wanting to snap in you, as soon as you realized you had feelings for the Eternal.  It was scaring you that you were seeing him in such a light, in a light that made you feel weak and almost exposed at the same time.  But you couldn't help it, fighting him and being so physically close to him at times you could breathe him in and be calm.  He was slowly getting some kind of hold on you, and you were not feeling strong enough to break from it.  It didn't seem right, falling for him when you didn't feel good enough for someone as intense and as massive in him.  

Your rhythm with him was good, you didn't want to break it.

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

On the eve of a feast that was going to be held in honor of another victory against the Deviants, you were once again sparring with Druig.  It was like any other session that you had with him.  You two would practice three days a week now, no longer needing to have it every day since Druig was now a decent fighting partner.  Of course, at the beginning of the session, you would win round after round.  It was almost like a dance between the two of you in how you much and swayed around each other.  The way you moved almost made you think of the movement of fish in the water or a hawk in the sky.  Druig was showing no more hesitance or restrain, which was what you wanted with him all his time.

But you were almost slowing your steps down, your swift strikes were a pinch duller and without that bite that you usually showed and used.  It was your fault though, your mind was elsewhere.  As hard as you tried to focus on the current round you were in, your mind was drifting to the man in front of you.  His soft eyes, the smoothness of his skin, and how he smelled of fresh soil from being on the farmlands.  It was almost making you lose your focus.

He punched you hard in the cheek with a right hook, having you fall back a bit and snap back to the present.

His eyes went wide from what he did, his fist falling to his side in an instant as a blossoming pain erupted on your cheek.  You hissed in pain, reaching up and touching your cheek as you stumbled in your steps away from him.  It was going to bruise, and although you were going to be fine with it, it still shook you in your brain.  You squinted, touching the tender spot before shaking it off and looking at Druig.  He looked petrified that he hit you, almost grief-stricken on his face.

"I'm sorry—" he started to say to you, walking over to you and reaching out to touch your cheek.  Without a second thought, you darted away from his touch as if he would sting you, seeing the look of confusion and almost hurt in his eyes as you tried to shake it off casually.

"It's fine," You replied, still feeling the punch against your cheek but not wanting to show it.  Now you felt foolish, seeming like a blushing girl in front of her crush and was trying not to show it.  You then realized, at that moment, that you were the blushing girl, and you were desperately trying to hide the feelings you had for Druig, "Let's…let's just take a break,"

You turned away from him, not wanting to feel any more embarrassment at that moment since it seemed like you acted so silly.  But you felt him take your hand in his own, stopping you from walking away from him and almost pulling you back to him.  Your throat was tightening and your heart was almost feeling like a jackrabbit

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, sounding so concerned as you finally turned to see him so close to you.  He was a mere foot away, searching your face and eyes with his own.  His eyes reminded you of the night sky that was scattered with stars and constellations.  You count breathe for a second before he gave you a serious stare.

"You...You were going easy on me," He stated like an accusation, having you stutter a bit there while he was still holding your hand.  Yet it wasn't a fierce hold, rather it was like you were made of glass or even porcelain.  

"No, n-no I wasn't—" You started to reason, but he shook his head.

"You were," he accused you, having you see him watching you like a hawk now as he was pointing at you with his spare hand that wasn't holding onto you, "I knew you are holding back with me!  Why?"

"I'm…I was just tired from today," You tried to lie.

"Oh, please," he lightly scoffed, then pointing to the tender pink mark on my cheek, "You would never let me hit you, ever.  And yet I landed a hard punch on your cheek, and you're never phased from it?!  What the hell is that about?"

"You're getting better and you got one in, alright?  Let it go, Druig!" You replied cooly, not liking where this was going.  It felt like he was placing you on some kind of trial, trying to expose you and what was going on in your mind.   As much as you were trying not to say anything else, you were realizing how close he was getting.  Breathing in the sweat he had along his skin along with the hint of musk he always had, seeing the glistening of the sweat against his brown hair that was almost having his hair in an alluring manner, and the heat radiating off his skin.  It was almost making you dizzy all over again.

"That's not like you," Druig kept going at you some more as he was still holding his hand within his large fingers, "All this time we would do this, you never once let me win or even touch you.  It's like you're afraid.  Are you?"

"Why do you care if you did hit me?" You asked him back in a leveled tone, "Isn't that why we're here?  You're supposed to try and hit me, that's the whole point of us fighting and practicing like this!"

"Not intentionally though!" he retaliated with you, his voice sounding a bit like a bite when he told you this, "I would never want to hit you on purpose!"

"So what?" You asked then, heat rising to your cheeks, "Why would you care if you hit me or not?!  It's not like you care about me!"

It was deafening, the silence there between the both of you there in the middle of the room.  The way he was staring at you was like you slapped him across the face. Maybe you said the wrong thing, almost like you offended him in how he was no longer showing agitating or anger towards you.  Instead, it was pleased by something softer, gentler.  Even the heat that was one in his eyes was now gone and almost at a low simmer, like dancing amber in a dying fire.

"You don't think I care about you?" he asked, his voice no longer loud or bold but almost like a broken whisper in the wind.  You cringed inwardly, feeling guilty that you said those words to him in the heat of the moment.  A part of you was wanting him to back off of you and let the conversation die there, but then the other part was trying to deflect what was going on within you.  Yet now, seeing how he looked in front of him, you wished you could take it back.

You wish you stayed strong in front of him, to lie and make things go back to the way they were.  You hated that you developed feelings for the Eternal over the time you fought and spoke together.  This change within you was enough to scare you and frighten you.  This turn of events was the first real sensation that scared you, falling for someone that seemed impossible for you to touch.  

"No," you whispered back, almost feeling a shiver as he was a mere inch away from you now.  He was reading you, top to bottom now with his eyes and his body stance.  It was a vulnerable place to be, his hand still holding your own and kept so close you were breathing each other in.  You didn't know if it was the endorphins that kicked in from the sparring, or that this bottle-up sensation to be this close was enough to make you want to scream, but you could almost see it on his face too.  He was so close…so very close.

"You're such a fool," He said in a breath to you, then kissed you squarely against your lips.  As soon as your lips touched, something inside of you was almost shaking you to your core.  His lips, so soft like a feather and yet firm against you to show there was no hesitance, made you almost melt to the ground.  All of those talks together, the jokes and banter you shared late in the night talked together about humans and the fragile species, it was all melting together in your mind like a whirlpool.  

Flashes of moments with him engrained your mind as you smoothly leaned into him to press your kiss against his lips.  You saw his rare smiles that light up his whole face and gave him dimples in his cheeks, how his nimble fingers and hands dug into the rich earth when he would help plant a row of crops, or how his smooth tone of voice carried in the wind when he would give you words of encouragement. 

One kiss lead to two, and then three.  Your mind was no longer working, not logically.  Your hand that was laced in his pulled his hand towards you a bit more before you felt him wrap his arm around your waist as he kissed a bolder kiss against your lips.  Your hands were touching his bare arms, feeling the slight sheen of sweat against your fingertips as you angled your head to feel him press closer to you.  His other hand reached up to cradle your neck, having you feel his fingers touch near your bruising cheek and into your hair. It made you sigh and slightly moan against his lips, almost making your mind go blank altogether. 

It was almost like a drug, what he was doing to do and how it was affecting you.  The Euphoria of your soul and heart was expanding as you found your feet moving with Druig, feeling him gently walking the both of you over to the wall behind you.  Your body was moving without you realizing it, you were only thinking about Druig and how you two ended up in this position.

Your back touched the wall, Druig still leaning into you but not overcrowding you.  It felt like he was giving you enough space to have you move away from him, the kisses he was sharing with you were bordering possessive but still intimate and kind.  You've seen humans kiss before, plenty of times walking through their markets or sharing a moment.  You knew those gestures did fascinate you, how they expressed their love to another with a simple press of lips.  Some did it to be friendly, but others did it to show love.  There were times you yearned to have that, to share that with someone who saw past your strength and plainness.

Now you had it front of you with Druig.  How he held you against the wall with gentleness and yet with a fierceness that made you weak in the knees.  In every kiss he pressed, it was a way he was telling you he loved you.  He didn't have to say that he loved you, you felt it in every kiss he pressed against your own.  He had more emotions to him that he would care to admit out loud, but you felt it there in his arms.

After what seemed like some time, he pulled away from your lips slowly.  You tried to chase his lips, not wanting this sensation to end with him.  But he stopped your gesture, the hand on your neck carefully cradling you still as his thumb traced the still tender cheek.  You froze, watching with your doe eyes that were glossed over as he leaned in to press a kiss against the wound he gave.  You shivered, feeling the kiss against your cheek and how cooling it was.  It felt like he was giving you a seal against your body, like a promise that he wasn't willing to break or tamper with.  

He pulled away, looking back at you again as you were looking over his face.  He was flushed, almost out of sort with his breath and the plumpness of his lips.  His eyes darkened a darker shade of blue that reminded you of the starless nights.  But your mind was at peace with what you were seeing in front of you.  That fear you had was long gone.

"I've cared for you for some time," He confessed to you, having you watch him with that softness still in your eyes as he gulped slightly before he went on, "Ever since you save me from that Deviant,"

"Then?" You had to ask, reaching up to touch the brown bangs that were about to go into his eyes.  You moved his bangs away, stroking his forehead with your fingers and feeling him lean in a bit to your touch, "I merely protected you,"

"Yet I was enraptured with you then," Druig continued as you searched his eyes, "You bewitched me with that strength and selflessness you had.  It was part of the reason I wanted to learn how to fight from you: to be closer to you,"

You grinned, hearing how sheepish he sounded from the confession.  It was almost like he was shy to admit, but hearing that he merely wanted to be closer to you in that way almost broke your heart.  You felt guilt then, remembering all the times you knocked him down or got him good with a kick or punch.  

"So you were willing to have me hurt you over and over, just so that you can get closer to me?" You asked, seeing some blush come to his cheeks with his embarrassed smile as you giggled, "Druig, you could have just talked to me.  I've hurt you so many times…"  Your face was almost crestfallen, from thinking of how you did physically hurt him not knowing his motives.  Druig saw your face confronting into sadness, shaking his head as he pressed his forehead against your own to soothe you.  

"I would do it all again," He reassured you lovingly as he pressed a soothing kiss against the corner of your mouth.

"You're a sadist," you tried to joke with him, but he grinned as he pulled back slightly for you to see his full face.

"No," He hummed, "I'm just in love,"

That piece you thought you were missing, all this time you felt a small hint of incompleteness, it was now complete.  That pice snapped it, almost instantly, just from hearing that simple sentence.  It all felt natural for you up until this moment, those hours and hours of talking together and bearing your souls to one another.  This was just the finale to all that you were festering inside and it was blossoming into some new creation that was beautiful, raw, and real.  You smiled from ear to ear as you watched him pull away from you completely.  It felt cold then, not having him near you as he took your hand once more in this.  This hand-holding felt soothing, palm against palm, as you watched his beautiful face look at yours.

"Let's go to this feast," he explained in a lighter tone to you, "And we can spare again."

"I won't hold back this time," You said coyly at him as he merely gave him a signature.

"I don't plan on you to," He purred back to you.

And you didn't.

[whirlybirbs]

FEVER-DREAM    ;    echo/reader 

summary: echo is fine-tuning his new prosthesis. you have experience, you help. unspoken feelings are acted on. adoration blooms. you learn what mesh’la means.

word count: 3k

pairing: echo / f!reader

tags: mutual pining, lots of tender looks, victorian-era hand-touching sluttiness, echo is a gentle soul, reader is head over heels, a touch of ptsd mention, set on ord mantell, mention of our boy fives, in this house we love assistive devices, enough sexual tension to power the death star

a/n: this is me round-house kicking the bad batch writers in the throat because they made echo cosplay a droid — but, also because this man deserves to be treated as more than a means to a mission’s end. majority of you know i am ~bitter~ (understatement of the century) of tbb’s plot/design/writing. but echo has been a favorite from the original days... so have some very soft fic.

i reference character redesigns by @nibeul​ in this piece — please go peep them here, and some updated character spreads here! they’re really beautiful and add a phenomenal layer of storytelling to the existing designs that’s lacking. nibuel’s art and writing is lovely. please give them a follow — i can’t rec their work enough. 

“How does it feel?”

The words are nearly whispered; it’s clear you didn’t want to startle him, and Echo can feel the pinch in his brow soften at your sudden appearence in the doorway. 

His bunk, at the back of the Havoc Marauder, is small — the space itself even more so. There’s a makeshift partition, hooked together with spare parts and meant to offer a bit of privacy on the cramped vessel. Its slate grey color has faded, and the edges have become tattered in the cycles of use. 

When Echo pulls his dark eyes up from his work, you’re leaning against the frame — your expression is earnest.

For a moment, the once-ARC Trooper is quiet. 

He wonders if he’ll ever get used to your attention. Each and every time, it sends him into a spiral; his heart catches as he inhales and tries to push down the warm stir in his gut. The sight of you is enough, nowadays, to melt Echo’s well-maintained irritability. His attention is stolen from his ever-present pain, if only for a bit.

There are plenty of days where he misses the old him — the wide-eyed, eager ARC Trooper who had his brothers by his side. His real brothers. Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait... Fives. 

Fuckin’ hell, Fives was probably staring down at him now laughing. 

No matter what changes, you’re still shit with the ladies, vod’ika. 

In a way he hasn’t fully admitted to himself, you make him feel like himself again. Like... Like some shiny cadet, on leave and distracted by the promises of pretty smiles passing-by. It’s good.

This makes him feel... good. 

He flexes, and his right hand — the new, gunmetal durasteel cyberized-prosthesis — closes into a tight fist. It’s taken him a bit, but the feeling isn’t so foreign now. It’s still... slow. Slower than he’s used to, but you’d mentioned it may take some time. The phantom feelings get better, too. All in all, it’s a good thing.

Your own hand, your left, glimmers back in the same gunmetal color.

(Echo had never pressed you about the missing limb — not until one day, in Cid’s, you’d joined him in a quiet corner. You’d spilled your drink and a complaint about getting the star-cherry syrup out of the joints had slipped out. Echo had laughed; a real laugh, the sort that was so rare coming from him, it had you staring at him as if he’d hung ever star in the sky. 

Can I ask how it happened? he’d said, breaking the heavy silence when your eyes never left his.

The Pykes, you’d said, and that was enough.)

“I haven’t, uh... Haven’t gotten the sensory calibration right yet.”

Then, his prosthesis cramps. His fingers go rigid, and Echo curses sharply as he reaches around his forearm to quickly reboot the appendage. It goes slack, then hums alive once more.

You wince.

You’re slow to move into the room — and you settle atop one of the crates Echo had stolen from the belly of the ship, an old Mantell Mix shipping container. You’re mindful to set his datapad aside, to not disturb his space too much. Before you reach for his hand, however, you lift your chin and open your hands in your lap.

“May I?” you ask, just as soft as before.

Echo feels small under your gaze.

Truth be told, you’re doing more than just... asking. You’re taking him in — appreciating him. It’s a habit that’s grown more and more apparent to not only himself, but the others.

In recent rotations, Echo has let his hair grow out — not long, but the once close buzz he’d kept has begun to curl at the top. Not entirely dissimilair to how it was before the Citadel. The dermal implants, the ones the Techno Union installed in order to parse the nuerological data in his head, stand out against his warm-colored skin. 

His usual AJ^6-inspired headpiece is resting on his bunk.

That damn thing.

A neccesary tool. One that, given the amount of user data Tech had procured when working on modifying the implant, Echo found himself immediately distrusting. It wasn’t as if the AJ^6 cyborg construct had a beautiful track record, and frankly, Echo would like to keep his personality in tact, thank you very much. There were plenty of days he felt machine enough. 

It wasn’t often you saw him without the headset; you knew it made linking in via his scomp easier to handle, it made the visualization of data transfers as easy as breathing. For Echo, it was a part of his vast kit, an important tool. For you, seeing him without it bubbles up a bit of a smile.

Echo catches it.

His eyes narrow playfully.

He looks... well. You — hell, are there words for it? For the way the sight of him makes you feel? It’s like there’s a world full of potential there, a thousand words unsaid, and feelings that have steeped in the warmth of longing gazes and half-there touches.

You’re still looking up at him, knees bent on the crate.

You blink, realizing you’ve been caught staring — not for the first time and certainly not for the last. In the beginning, it had left a sour taste in Echo’s mouth. But, now... Well, it stokes a sort of pride in his chest that he hangs onto. 

It never gets easier to recover from — certainly not when Echo smirks. He moves to allow you to take his prosthesis into your lap. The gesture is gentle; your fingers cradle the firm yet pliable metal.

“What?” he asks. His voice, low and rough and warm, is tinted with amusement.

“Nothing,” you say vaguely with a shrug — as if that’s supposed to explain any part of your enamored stare. Your attention moves to the prosthesis.

“Nothing?” he asks, moving to thumb his left ear with his free hand with a dash of nervousness. A habit. Echo tilts his head as his fingers brush the cochlear implant there. The panel rests neatly against the side of his head, a small rounded-off square. The bite of self-consciousness has dwindled around you — but still, it creeps back up every now and again.

The Corporal’s brows knot playfully as you turn his new hand over in your lap; you’re admiring the upgraded feel, the more seamless panelling in comparison to your own. Echo watches your lashes flutter in silent thought.

Then:

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

You blink slowly at the hand, swallow down your sudden sheepishness and ignore his gaze. You bite back the smile digging into your cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks suddenly, and you look up.

A baited trick. He’s smiling. 

The warm sort — the sort reserved for you and for Omega. The two souls that hold a piece of his heart, with all its ticking valves and electric timed pulses. There are machinisms that keep him alive, and then there is you. Your wide-eyed expression melts, giving way to the sort of smile he’s tried to memorize over and over. It’s the same smile that has warded off that reoccuring nightmare of the night on the tarmac at the Citadel, the same smile that has pulled him through the grit of phantom pains.

“What—” a sudden laugh bursts from your chest, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You were staring, mesh’la,” he rumbles out as a reminder, enjoying the fact he’s suddenly become the center of your attention. Echo leans back, his boot toeing yours. You nudge it back. Your face feels hot. You ignore his pointedly teasing look with a roll of your eyes.

The nickname started a few weeks ago. You haven’t asked what it means — no, for now it’s meaning hangs in the balance. Untouched but there. The affection the word carries makes your heart feel heavier and unbelievably full.

“Bad habit,” you chirp back, looking up at him through your lashes.

His laugh is warm.

“Maybe not.”

“No,” you say quietly; your voice is soft as your eyes bounce across his face, tracing the lines of his face with your gaze, “I don’t think it is.”

There’s a silence that slips between you — a comfortable one. It’s heavier than before. That has begun to happen recently, especially with the petal-soft utterance of mesh’la becoming more and more frequent. You hold his gaze. Echo lets out a soft, contented sigh.

Then, you remember the task at hand.

You clear your throat.

“Uh... The access panel I’m looking for,” you say slowly as your raise your finger to point to your own arm, “It’s on your bicep.”

Echo blinks. He clears his own throat before looking down — he hadn’t even noticed that access panel. That could explain the jarring miscommunication stalling the limb. This model had more bells and whistles than he initally realized. 

Better than a fuckin’ scomp link, that’s for sure.

Wordlessly, Echo makes room on his bunk. You move to settle beside him, your bent leg resting aginst his hip as you half-straddle the bed; your other knee brushes his thigh — and Echo tries to sit still. You’re close, now. 

“Is it okay if...?” you trail off, fingers tugging on the short sleeve of his blacks; you pause until Echo offers a curt nod. You catch him swallow. You push onward, fingers nimbly rolling the fabric up over his broad bicep. 

Echo steals a glance your way as your fingers pass across a slip of his bare skin. 

In his lap, both his hands twitch.

He’s no small man. Lean and athletic, Echo is built like a soldier. Omega had said once that Echo was an ARC Trooper, one of the best of the best. You believed every bit of it, and you’d hung on her words when she’d rambled on about ARC training, about Kamino, and about who Echo was before you knew him. It was all in the past, though. That Echo is a part of this Echo but... They’re different men. He’s been changed by the things that have happened.

You don’t press him on the details. 

In time, they’re slipped into conversation here and there — between the here and now.  

In the beginning, when you’d found yourself amongst the crew of the Havoc Marauder — be it for a simple job on Cid’s behalf — Echo had hardly paid you a moment of attention, though you admit you’d been curious from the start. It had taken three jobs for you to finally see his face. Then began the slow and gradual bonding over catching joints, grating plates, and hardware updates. His legs, your arm. Two pieces of a pair.

Now, he has this. A beautiful new upgrade — something he’s wanted for a long time. A part of his old self is back, in a way.

You liked that it was more than just a tool. That, in having this piece of his body back, he felt like more than a tool. More than a scomp link. 

After all, he is a man — a... a very handsome man. One whose proximity is sort of distracting you, again, from the task at hand.

“The panel here,” you say as you slowly press on the seam that enables the settings panel to be revealed; you’re mindful to explain, “It controls sensory outputs, as well as synchonized synaptic commands. The panel on my forearm does the same to my hand, yours is just... well, you’ve got the new and improve version.”

Echo ducks his head as you work, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Feeling a bit jealous, mesh’la?”

“Maybe,” you breathe out with a smile. 

Then, you lift your eyes. You intended to see that he was still comfortable, but instead you come face to face with the Corporal. His nose nearly brushes yours when you lift you chin, completely dragged in by the closeness shared.

There’s a beat of tension. Echo’s mouth goes dry.

You fingers pause. You swallow hard. “How... uh, how does it feel?”

Echo tightens his grip, then releases. His breath tickles your cheeks. His eyes, a deep, warm brown, flit from your eyes to your mouth, and then back. His voice is a croak. 

“...Same as before.”

You tinker with a dial, eyes never leaving his; your voice is above a whisper. “And now?”

It’s immediate. Like a rush of cold air up his arm — and on instinct, Echo’s hand twitches. His fingers grip the fabric of his blacks, along his thigh, and... he feels it. The smooth, stretch of the material. It’s... it feels like a lot. His fingertips, metallic and cyberized, tingle. It’s distracting.

He can feel. 

His hand is slow. It moves across to bridge the space between you. His pointer finger settles on the curve of your knee; the feeling of your tactical pants beneath his fingertip is ignored, instead he chases the heat of your body.

Your breath catches at the touch. 

Echo’s face is turned to you, but... his attention has settled on his hand. His palm then sweeps across your thigh. He follows the curve, soaks in the feeling. You’re frozen in place, beating back the desperate sound of appreciation that threatens to be pulled from your throat. The touch is... more than welcomed. 

The closeness itself is making you dizzy.

Then, Echo turns — and the warm, durasteel-plated palm finds your cheek.

Your skin is hot. 

“Is this okay, mesh’la?” he whispers, words riding on a quiet exhale — the sort that make you feel... well, you don’t even have words for the way he makes you feel. Echo is... kind, honest, and loyal. Above all else, he’s gentle. Despite it all, despite every bit of horror he’d been put through, he’d never lost sight of the importance of a gentle hand. Especially now in a moment as intimate as this. It coaxes you closer.

You lean into the cybernetic attachment, cheek resting in his palm. You nod, then, with eyes eager to take in every bit of this moment.

He chuckles at the enthusiasm. Echo’s thumb, deft and smooth, then traces the line of your lower lip.

The feeling is... the gnawing pain that he’s felt for nearly a year has melted. Finally, the itch has been scratched in his brain and the hollow ache of his bones is gone. It’s relief, and comfort, and excitement and all these beautiful things — and you. 

You’re stuck — you don’t want to move, you won’t move. He’s rooted you completely, and when his other hand — the calloused and warm one of flesh and blood — finds it’s spot along your thigh, you swallow a lovesick sigh that would only exaserbate your desperation. 

Your mouth is moving before you realize it. 

“What does it mean?”

Echo’s eyes narrow, only a bit, and he runs his thumb up your cheekbone.

“What does what mean?” 

“Mesh’la,” it sounds foreign on your tongue. It’s not Hutteese or Twi’leki, not like any language you know, “Will you tell me what it means, Echo?”

The corner of his lips quirk. Your eyes jump to it.

You feel like someone’s reached right into your chest and given your heart a squeeze — and it only worsens when he laughs. He laughs, deep and quiet and warm, like a thunderstorm on a summer night. It feels cruel, to string you along like this when you’re here, lips parted, hanging off his every touch and his every word.

“Beautiful,” he says quietly as his other hand touches your jaw — it’s so damn reverent, this little moment in time, that you almost don’t believe it’s real.

It feels like a dream — like someone has come in and stolen your thoughts from you; like the unrequited yearning has finally stoked a fire large enough to burn you up entirely, a fever you never knew you wanted.

His nose brushes yours.

Your fingers wind into the fabric of his chest. You’re clinging, lost to the moment — and you can’t help wonder if this is how it feels when he catches you adoring him. He’s admiring you so tenderly that you nearly break.

You want to kiss him.

He’s thought about nothing but kissing you for the last five days at least. Longer in his dreams. Nowadays, it’s a constant pull, a constant want.

And now, it’s here — a present and current moment where it can happen. Where he can stop being a shiny cadet and he can make a move...

Enter Omega.

“Echo, we’re back—!”

The telltale hammer of a girl’s boots on the floor signals that the party is back from their supply run — but you’re so far off, spinning in a different universe, you don’t even hear her until its too late... Until Echo is yanking himself away and clearing his throat and rolling his wrist to test the prosthesis in a different way, a less intimate way. 

You blink, then rattle yourself back to the present. Omega is in the doorway staring with a quizzical look. Clearly, your state does little to dissuade the assumptions she’s already making and you can see the gears turning in her head. The dark-haired girl then slowly grins.

“Hi.”

You swallow. “Hi, Omega.”

“...Whatcha guys doin’?”

Echo coughs. “Uh, just fine-tuning the new upgrade.”

“...Riiiiiight.” 

You rub your cheeks and laugh — clearly forced and incredibly pained — as you stand up and nearly ram your head right into the top of Echo’s bunk. It’s met with a hiss of warning from the trooper as he jumps up to try and protect you from the impact. 

“Well! Uh, thanks for letting me help, Echo,” you clap, rocking back and forth on your boots, “I, uh... Oh, Cid called. I should... I should get back—”

“Yea,” he says, straining a bit to find the words, “Yea, I’ll... I’ll comm you if it starts to, uh... If it starts to act up?”

Omega watches the exchange, big brown eyes moving from left to right. 

“Good, great — yea, that’s,” you inhale as you rub your thighs and move towards the door, “Perfect. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Bye!” Omega calls, waving.

You wave back, smiling. “Bye, Omega.”

Then, once it’s only Echo and Omega in the bunk, the tween speaks.

“...What the kriff was that?”

[i-aim-to-overanalyze]

I’ve been rewatching Ninjago out of nostalgia and I’m currently finishing Season 3 which is actually?? Decent?? I know the reason it probably leaves a sour taste in a lot of people’s mouths is the Nya love triangle and the villains could’ve been better but it feels like this is the season that the plot kicks it up a notch?

Like don’t get me wrong, I grew up rewatching Season 1 the most and love it even if some aspects haven’t aged well *cough*everyonemakingfunofZaneforwearingpink*cough*

Season 2 I think has a great first half (the idea that Garmadon purposefully tries to thwart the Ninja in ways to prevent his son from reaching his full potential so they don’t have to fight is interesting) but it’s second half feels disconnected and even rushed a bit for what was supposed to be the series finale 

The fight scenes are also just painful to watch and I laugh at how much of the time there’s like a group of them watching an one-on-one battle without making an effort to like,, help that person out

My favorite instance of this is when Cole tells Kai to take on the Stone Warrior in the museum like?? Why wouldn’t all of you fight him?? Why Kai specifically??

Side note, I love how the Overlord was clearly supposed to be the most ultimate evil bad guy ever and how much of an emphasis they made on “Oh remember this past season 1 event? Can’t believe this is our final battle!” *proceeds to make thirteen more seasons*

But with Season 3 it’s like

Ok yeah the Ninja becoming teachers in-between seasons when they’re supposedly still teenagers is weird which also keeping S4 in mind i refuse to see them as anything but in their early twenties excluding Lloyd 

Yeah Nya deserved so much better this season. Like really between Season 2 where she received barely any action as Samuari X and the love triangle, I don’t know what is worse but at least it felt like she received more screen-time

Yeah Evil Wu could’ve probably been explored more and it would’ve been more interesting if he actually,, spoke

Yeah it doesnt make any sense the Ninja knew the Serpentine had been stuck in the tunnels or the Serpentine saying they locked themselves in the tombs when later seasons contradict this but thats just Ninjago for you

But even including all that there’s some really great stuff like!

The decision to split Lloyd and the other ninja up actually works out well?? It gives a chance for the Original Four to shine on their own and for Lloyd to be still the super important Chosen One

Which then the writers gave us Lloyd and Garmadad bonding time which was so great

The fact they decided to make Sensei Garmadon swear off fighting and weapons makes him so interesting?? He will very much fvck you up but by allowing you to be the person to fvck yourself up

The whole interaction he and Wu had regarding protecting Ninjago’s future was great and you know the writers were cowards that feared if they didn’t kill Sensei Garmadon off that he’d prevent Wu from hiding secrets which is like 90% of where the suspense in Ninjago stems from

If you ignore how dumb the love triangle is, I do love the fact like others pointed out, it very much seems the reason Cole even starts showing an interest in Nya is because he does it out of spite for Jay getting upset at something he wasn’t even aware of 

I love Cyrus Borg--his excitement about the future of technology is infectious and I love how easily the writers could’ve had him against Pixel leaving his side and instead Cyrus encouraged her to go do what she wanted

The poor man does get captured and cyborgified twice in one season oof

Zane’s and Pixel’s relationship is actually pretty cute?? It’s literally the plot of Wall-E but I don’t care it’s still cute, whether you see it as romantic or platonic.

The idea of an evil eldritch spirit like the Overload being a computer virus isn’t that bad of an idea. I mean, he’s still a ridiculously weak villain but it’s still cool.  

The ninja go to space!!! Is it absolutely ridiculous? Yeah, but it happened and I still think it’s hilarious it happened. 

And then Zane’s sacrifice at the end?? It doesn’t matter if you know he comes back, it still hurts!

Also! The music is good?? Like S1 and S2 had decent music but it’s even better here?? Especially the Weekend Whip remix. This lego show’s music should not be as good as it is at times.